#can you tell i have *LOUD HAMMER HITTING TABLE NOISE*

[snakarscrolls]

people often say its far easier to comprehend something and just as easy to get excited about things you know about in advance, when speaking of spoilers to media, reading wikis before engaging with firsthand, and while i certainly agree, i feel like the uncertainty and initial confusion are severely underrated parts of the human experience... its a real ride when you first attempt to make sense of something, interpreting and misinterpreting stuff as you go, symbolism everchanging and free. when i first played ahit i had no idea what to expect, id seen a few letsplays but couldnt make sense of anything happening or what any locations were supposed to represent at all, i was also far too annoyed by the players skipping collecting every visible pon lol... my first playthrough was detached and level headed, i didnt really react to anything, but i did go "oh the express owls are my favorite characters.. the badge seller is my favorite character... subconites are my favorite now, i think?.. no, its nomads... alpine skyline is my favorite location, no, scratch that, its subcon.. but i like mafia town too..." like i was completely entangled in everything. it felt like a really huge and complex game, like when i first approached vanessas manor i was absolutely convinced in her huge and empty and oppressive ice glove there were npcs and maybe a passage to another village... not necessarily connected to her in any way, just present. i always describe ahit as a game that feels like dreamed of it, and yet its real and fully playable. i think thats why i vastly prefer the base game to the dlcs, the wonky and disjointed graphics add to the comfort of it all

[bring-forth-his-sac]

Not sure if this is too far but maybe some dads best friend mixed in with close calls and very rough stuff if ya know what I mean 😏

Stained

Word Count: 7.4k

Warnings/Tags:  rough sex, degrading name calling (slut), mentions of a facial, cheating (soz Lucille), alcohol consumption, hair pulling, semi-public sex

It happened again.

By now, Negan knows the routine. Argue. Say shit neither one of them can take back. Lucille kicks him out or else Negan reaches his limit and storms out. Make up later. It’s their pattern.

But tonight is different. 

They were supposed to go to a friend’s house for dinner, which threw a wrench in their usual routine. A part of Negan still wanted to go. Sure, he dreaded the tension-filled conversation, Lucille throwing in her usual passive-aggressive digs, but there was a silver lining: he could vent afterward. He needed to. To someone who’d actually get it, without the sugar-coating.

Negan has been friends with your dad for years, long enough to know they could trade a few sharp words and move on without it turning into some dramatic scene. Sometimes, Negan could really use that kind of blunt, no-nonsense talk with another guy. 

But hell, he wouldn’t mind shooting the shit with you either. You always got his humor and honestly, you were the only one who could make him laugh without trying so damn hard.

Instead of your home, he finds himself at a bar. Lucille was quick to call dibs on going solo to your parents house, not wanting to deal with Negan in front of friends. 

He left without another word, driving to the local watering hole like a man on a mission.

The bar is the usual kind of dimly lit place that doesn't ask questions. Negan doesn’t need questions tonight. What he needs is a drink and a distraction.

He settles onto a chair by the bartop and orders a whiskey, the burn of it going down smoother than he expected.

Lucille’s parting words echo in his head, the sharpness of her dismissal stinging all over again. The way she had shut him down so easily, almost like telling off a child. Negan can feel the frustration creeping back in. He could’ve used a laugh tonight but instead, he’s stuck here. 

Alone, as usual.

On a typical night, Negan hates how quiet the bar is. He can’t stand silences, everything about it gets on his nerves. The patrons are too tight to even cough up a quarter to play a song on the jukebox. It always feels like the kind of place where the air is thick with nothingness and every minute stretches on longer than the last.

Negan doesn’t have the luxury to brood over that on this particular night. Instead, the loud chattering of a group of girls fills the bar, cutting through the silence like a chainsaw.

Just a handful of them crowd around a table, all bright-eyed and wide smiles, laughing as though the weight of the world hasn’t yet found them.

His brow furrows as he watches them out of the corner of his eye. They’re not doing anything wrong but the racket they’re making feels invasive in the normally subdued space. 

Every time they laugh, the sound hits him like a hammer to his skull, ringing in his ears. It’s like a constant, steady hum of disruption. Negan can appreciate a little noise and some new life in the place, but tonight?

Tonight, it’s too much. It’s frustrating him. He takes another swig of his whiskey but it doesn’t quite block out their high-pitched, frantic laughter. 

One of the girls spills a drink, and the others burst into a fresh round of giggles, the kind that seems to echo through the entire room. 

He’s about to look away when another girl quickly picks up the drink and continues to say something. She's sitting across from the others, leaning forward and talking animatedly, her hands flying through the air with each word. 

One of her hands subtly goes to her thigh and she tries to discreetly yank down her dress. 

Negan wonders if women know they don’t need to wear tight mini dresses or the crop tops to get laid. But he supposes that’s the joy of being a  youngster. They do stupid shit, wear stupid shit, drink stupid shit. Some grow out of it while others still say stupid shit and end up drinking alone at a bar.

His eyes flicker over her figure. Negan can’t see her face, the angle of her head and the way her body is half-turned away from him hides it. 

Negan doesn’t mind. He can still appreciate her thighs and the curve of her ass from his seat at the bar. Her hair and back covers most of her upper body too so Negan can’t appreciate any titty action just yet.

His fingers drum against the bar and he catches himself, realizing that he’s staring. He quickly looks away, taking another drink of his whiskey as if the liquid will wash away whatever was just stirred up inside him.

In a way, Negan’s glad you’re not like that. You’re pretty without all the extra shit. Since elementary school, you've never been the type to crave attention or stand out in a crowd. Yet you're not the kind of introvert who keeps completely to yourself either.

You fall somewhere in the middle, comfortable with who you are without needing to put on a show for anyone.

There’s been plenty of times you’ve been the most entertaining thing to Negan at your parent’s dinner parties. He loves the witty remarks you toss his way and how you both quietly poke fun at the evening while the others remain oblivious. Those little moments are the highlight of his night.

But, of course, there are also those other times. When a careless comment from your father or mother hits a nerve and you retreat into yourself, disappearing into the background. Negan can always tell when that happens; the sharpness in your eyes dulls and the sarcastic remarks you usually offer him vanish. 

He wonders if you’ll be disappointed tonight, when it’s only Lucille who arrives for dinner. You make the dinners bearable for him but surely you reciprocate that feeling. Both of you are as thick as thieves in your own subtle way.

The woman he’s been checking out stands, saying one more quick thing to her friends before she turns and heads for the bar.

Maybe it’s because you’re already clouding his thoughts that seeing you in person hits him even harder. He’s imagined you a thousand times, with your quiet demeanor and the casual clothes you wear that make you almost invisible.

The mental image of you is so vivid, it’s like you’ve been etched into his mind… yet here you are, so different than that.

You do the same action that you did earlier, yanking down the end of your dress as it threatens to ride up your thigh. Negan lets out a gulp, not sure how he feels at the fact that he’s been checking out his friend’s daughter.

Turning back to say something to your friends, you let out a laugh as you clog along in your high heels to the bar. 

This is exactly what you needed. A night away from all your worries and stresses… and your parents. 

Besides, you're an adult now. You’re allowed to have fun! Whether that be crazy golf, drinking until you need your stomach pumped or smoking whatever. No matter how much guilt or pressure your parents try to put on you, tonight is yours. You’re no longer bound by their expectations. You can take a break from being the person they want you to be and just be.

Maybe that’s why the words “Lydia found out her boyfriend cheated so everyone was going to go over to hers and cheer her up!” came out of your mouth when you told your parents you couldn’t stay for dinner instead of “We all want to go out and down tequila shots!”.

Whether your actual reasoning would’ve worked or not, it doesn’t matter because they let you out with no more than a remorseful look as you left to help your heartbroken friend.

“Get more salt sachets!” a giddy Lydia calls out as you clip-clop up to the bar. 

You’re so caught up in your own little bubble of excitement that you barely notice the guy at the bar. You wait beside him, leaning on the counter and waiting until the bartender comes over. When you feel his eyes linger, you glance his way, wondering if you’ve found some fun for the night. 

You look over, pre-emptively batting your eyes lashes everything seems to slow down. There, standing just a few inches away, is Negan. Your dad’s friend. 

You freeze for a moment, excuses caught in your throat, as you realize that it’s not just the familiarity of his face that’s throwing you off. It’s the way he's looking at you. Negan’s expression is unreadable but the way his gaze lingers has a weight that catches you off guard.

You try to swallow the sudden lump in your throat. What is he thinking? How long has he been standing there? And why, of all people, did it have to be him?

You hate it. On one hand, you want to ignore him. Maybe give him a nod of acknowledgment before pretending like you’re not in front of someone you’ve known since you were a kid. 

But on the other hand, you know what Negan’s like and the last thing you want is for him to loudly draw attention to your… friendship? 

Ushering yourself closer, you hurriedly whisper “What are you doing here?!”.

Negan struggles to maintain his composure, forcing himself to keep his eyes on your face instead of letting them wander. 

“What am I doing here?” His jaw clenches as if readying himself to barrage you with questions “What are you doing here, dressed like that? Are you drunk? Do your parents know you’re here? I swear….”.

You scoff defensively, glancing down at the glass of whiskey in front of him. “Oh so I can’t go out with friends but you’re allowed to drown your sorrows?”.

Negan doesn’t even entertain your question, immediately waving it off. “That’s not the damn point,” he hisses “I’m not the one with my tits out and stumbling around a bar!”. 

He shoots some other patrons a glare as they try to eavesdrop, making sure they keep their eyes to themselves. You gasp, putting a hand on your chest. Maybe your dress is a lower cut than what you’d usually wear but your boobs aren’t about to pop out of the thing!

“You— you can’t talk to me like that!” despite how your face flushes, you stand your ground. You’ve always known Negan to be raunchy but not once has he ever spoken to you like this before.

"Can't talk to you like what?” Negan doesn’t give you the time to ponder that rhetorical question, crossing his arms as he continues to lecture you.

“You think you look appropriate right now? You think your parents would approve of this outfit?" his eyes narrowing dangerously.

“I’m out with friends, not at dinner with my parents!” You defend, deciding to add in your own jab “Besides, I thought you were at theirs tonight, having dinner with Lucille… not drinking alone”.

Negan can’t keep still. He’s too antsy, wanting to shake some sense into you but trying to stay cool in public.

With an elbow propped up on the bar, Negan points a finger at you “Watch it, before I haul your ass outta here”.

This is the closest you’ve ever seen Negan to real anger. Whenever he’s been at your house, it’s always been the aftermath of it you’ve witnessed. His sullen mood and Lucille’s small comments at him whenever the conversation allowed; both of them handling their simmering frustration in their own way. 

To not only witness his anger first hand, but to have it directed at you… you’re not sure if you want to pout or get on your knees right then and there.

You scoff, trying to seem unbothered. “Enjoy your drink, I’m going back to my friends,” you say it with just enough sass, turning to retreat back to your table.

You know it’s a pointless endeavour. 

Negan won’t allow it. And you know it.

His hand snakes around your upper arm, his grip firm but not painful. "Oh no you don't,” he tugs you back, urging you to face him again “we’re leaving. Now”.

You were hoping for a little more time here, a bit more back-and-forth, rile him up before hopefully breaking down those stubborn walls. 

“You can leave, but I’m not!” you snap, digging your heels in.

He leans in close, his anger flaring back to life as his voice drops into a dangerously low growl. “I’m not asking you, sweetheart, I’m telling you” the pet name slips out like a command, making something tighten in your chest. 

“You’re drunk, you’re dressed like a goddamn slut and you’re not staying in this bar another second”.

Is it bad you can feel the heat between your legs as he degrades you? How is it your dad’s friend, someone you kinda considered your own friend too, is calling you a slut so easily? And why does he keep trying to steal quick glances at your chest?

Heh, well, you know the answer to that last question.

Still, you play your part and you slap his arm. “Don’t call me that! Jackass” you say with a defiant huff.

His eyes widen but Negan doesn’t acknowledge the slap in the way you wanted him to. Instead of continuing to bicker, he grabs his leather jacket from the back of his chair and throws it on, his movements sharp. 

“Jackass?” he repeats, clearly not amused.

“Yes! You’re acting like a major jackass!” you fire back, though there’s a glimmer of amusement in your voice. 

Negan grins, that mocking, almost wicked smile spreading across his face as steers you away from the bar.

“Yeah, and you know what else I am?” he asks “The one dragging your drunk, barely dressed ass out of this bar before you make a complete fool of yourself”.

He starts tugging you toward the exit. “I had like… two drinks!” you protest, stumbling slightly to keep up.

But just as he’s about to drag you out the door, you use all the momentum you have to shove him into the door right next to the exit. 

The ladies toilets. 

Your friends giggle as you both disappear from sight, assuming you’re hooking up with the stranger. They’ve always known you have a thing for older men but little do they know who he really is…

Negan stumbles into the bathroom, his mind still trying to process how he went from the exit to somehow ending up in here instead. His brow furrows as he takes in the situation.

Before he can say a word, you speak, your voice steady but firm “Negan, I’m not leaving”.

He steps closer “Yes. You. Are. We’re leaving. Right. Now”. His hand shoots out to grab your arm, but you’re already one step ahead. You sidestep him, narrowly avoiding his grip.

“No!” you exclaim, more forcefully than you intended. Hoping to get through to him, you soften your tone, offering a sliver of vulnerability. “My parents don’t know I’m here… they think I’m just at a friend’s place” you admit.

Your words hang in the air, a soft confession of rebellion. But Negan’s response is as expected—he rolls his eyes, the action exaggerated as if he’s heard this excuse a thousand times before. 

“I don’t give a fuck if your parents ground you for a year!” He snaps, his voice low but intense “You’re not staying here dressed like that and acting like this”.

“Acting like what? Having fun?”.

His jaw clenches. “By acting like you’re only worth a quick fuck in the backseat of someone’s car,” Negan replies, the words carrying a weight that makes your stomach sink.

The insult stings, but you refuse to back down. With a small scoff, you shake your head and tilt your chin up slightly. “You’re telling me you didn’t do that when you were young?” you challenge.

Negan’s expression falters for a split second, his lips twitching as if he’s about to crack a grin but he maintains his steely expression. 

He exhales sharply through his nose, his stance stiffening. “I did it because I’m a guy,” he mutters, his tone clipped “so it’s different”.

“That’s misogynist,” you point out as you cross your arms, unintentionally making your cleavage more noticeable.

For a moment, you catch Negan’s gaze flickering downward before snapping back up to your eyes, his face strained. 

His lips press together in a tight line, his eyes briefly closing in frustration as he fights to maintain his composure. “Fuck, can you just…” Negan gestures vaguely at you “Cover up or something?”.

Without waiting for an answer, Negan turns away, running a hand through his dark locks. 

You let out a quiet sigh. “I didn’t bring a jacket,” you say flatly, not giving him the satisfaction of seeing you flustered.

He mutters something under his breath, too quiet for you to catch. With a dramatic huff, he whips off his leather jacket. “Of course you didn’t. On top of everything else, you want to get hypothermia too” His voice drips with exasperation.

Negan turns back to you, holding out the jacket, his eyes briefly look to your chest again before quickly darting back to your face, his bottom lip caught between his teeth.

You catch the slight pause, the way his gaze betrays him, but you choose not to acknowledge it— at least, not directly. You stare him down, not hiding the smirk plastered on your face. Then, in one swift movement, he practically hurls the jacket at you. 

“Here,” he says, the word a little too resigned.

Instinctively, you catch the jacket, but you don’t put it on. Instead, you hold it in your arms, letting it drape over them as you roll your eyes at his comments. 

“I’m not some delicate little flower,” you tease, your smirk becoming playful “maybe I like it rough”.

The words slip out without thinking, a little too flippantly, and you feel the heat rise to your cheeks.

Maybe those two drinks were enough to get you tipsy after all.

Negan’s eyes narrow at you and you can see the gears turning in his head. There’s a flicker of something in his expression. Maybe amusement, maybe disbelief, but before he can say anything, you catch the faintest hint of a smirk forming on his lips.

He steps closer, his imposing frame shadowing you as he leans in. “Damn, you’re something else,” he says, his voice thick with something you can’t quite place.

You’re not sure if it’s the alcohol or the overwhelming presence he has, but for the first time tonight, you feel a small shiver run up your spine. 

“Rough, huh?” His words are like a threat, his tone smooth and dangerous.

Before you can respond, his hand shoots out, and suddenly, he has a firm grip on your hair, tugging it just enough to pull your head back. 

“Ow! Negan!!” You whine, your voice a mix of surprise and irritation. Good job at proving you like it rough.

He loosens his grip, but his fingers stay tangled in your hair, holding you captive in his gaze. He stares down at you, his dark eyes boring into yours. 

“You think I don’t notice how gorgeous you are?” he murmurs, his voice low, almost possessive “But this? Telling me you like it rough? Tsk, tsk, tsk”. 

Your heart skips a beat at the admission, and your eyes widen ever so slightly. The words settle in your chest, warm and electric, and for a split second, everything else fades away. 

Negan thinks you’re gorgeous. 

You can barely process it but you don’t get a chance to let the moment settle. His fingers tighten in your hair again, this time with purpose. 

“There’s a difference,” he growls, his voice rougher now, “between making eyes at some random guy at a bar and teasing a man who actually knows what to do with you”.

You swallow hard. His grip on you, the way he towers over you, his scent— all of it feels like a pressure you can’t escape. You can barely breathe.

“And you…” You pause, testing the waters “You know what to do with me?”.

And then, possibly the most un-hot thing happens. A toilet flushes. The sound is loud and sudden, causing you both to freeze. It comes from one of the stalls at the end of the room and it’s quickly followed by the drunken shuffling of feet and a zipping noise. 

Without a word, you and Negan lock eyes, an unspoken agreement passing between you in that single, charged moment. 

“Shit,” Negan mutters under his breath, his hand still tangled in your hair, but now pulling you toward the nearest empty cubicle with urgency. 

“Ouch!” you whisper, batting at his hand and making him untangle his hand from your hair. You barely have time to shoot him a glare before he’s guiding you into the small space, his body close behind you.

Just as the cubicle at the end of the room unlocks, the lock to your cramped cubicle slots into place with a soft click.

For a moment, you both hold your breath. You’re pressed together in the cramped space, his chest against your back, your bodies flush together.

You hear the drunken patron stumble, mumbling something unintelligible as they turn on one of the taps and start washing their hands. You both hold still, waiting for the heavy footsteps to move away. Negan holds you against him, one hand on your waist to keep you close. 

Although that’s not the only thing that’s touching you. 

It’s hard not to notice the unmistakable press of his semi-erect cock nestling against the curve of your ass. It feels firm yet pliant, a promise of things to come. 

Turning your head just enough to look up at him through your eyelashes. He doesn’t meet your gaze, too busy zoning into some spot in the stall door as he listens intently to the patron outside.

His brow furrows just slightly, the lines on his forehead deepening as he focuses. You can tell he's strategizing, weighing up different excuses in case he’s caught in the ladies room. Negan’s lips are pressed together, a slight tension around them, but it's not a scowl. 

Deciding you want some attention, you press your ass back slightly. You hear a grunt.

“You’re not making this easy on me,” he huffs. You can feel the warmth of his breath against your neck as he looks down.

Through the thin walls, you can hear the drunk go on their way, their footsteps slowly fading as they stagger out of the bathroom. The door swings shut with a final, echoing creak. 

As if to prove his point, Negan moves his hips forward, forcing his erection against your ass. He’s harder than you thought and you shudder at the mere size of the thing in his pants. 

He makes a quiet, pleased sound against your ear as his hand trails up your waist, teasing passing the side of your breast before settling on the back of your neck. 

“Fuck, you're responsive…” He pulls back slightly, making sure you can still feel him.

“Is that a good thing?” you ask softly.

He chuckles, his voice low and husky. “It's a dangerous thing, darlin,” he squeezes your neck teasingly “Nothing good ever comes from being too responsive... unless you're trying to drive a man wild”.

“Maybe that’s exactly why I’m trying to do” you push back against him again, this time bending your body slightly to really accentuate your ass.

Except all that does is encourage your dress to ride up your thighs again, stopping just before your ass. Grabbing his leather jacket from your arms, Negan tosses it up on the stall door before moving to your thighs.

Negan isn’t a one to waste time, especially when it comes to taking advantage of certain situations. Bringing both hands down to your thighs, he helps you dress by tugging it up in one swift movement. You let out a gasp as the cool, thankfully air conditioned bathroom making the skin on your ass get goosebumps.

“Negan! I-“ you move to turn away so he can’t see your ass but Negan’s one step ahead this time.

 Looping an arm around your torso, he makes sure you keep the squirming to a minimum. With his other hand, he brings it down between your legs and presses a finger against your panties.

He holds you in place, bent at the hips and ass against his crotch. You can feel the dampness of your panties against your heat. The wetness seeps into the fabric, making it stick to the lips of your pussy. 

“Fuck me, you are soaked!” with no qualms about modesty, Negan swipes the tacky panties to the side and gets a feel of your folds himself. 

You stop a moan from escaping, not wanting to be too eager. "Goddamn, you're a sticky little mess, ain't ya? All wet and sloppy, just fucking dripping” he teases your hole, momentarily pressing a finger to it but never dipping inside.

Hoping to gain some control, you go to stand up straight. The thoughts of looking into his eyes as he fingers you is more appealing than your view being the wall of a bathroom stall.

But Negan isn’t as fond of the idea. The arm looped around you quickly makes its way to your back, forcing you to stay bent. You let out a scoff as the side of your face smushes against the wall. 

“Negan, what the fuck?” You whine, blindly throwing one of your arms back at him “If you’re gonna finger me, at least let me enjoy it!”.

“Nuh-uh,” he grabs your arm and presses it against your back, restraining you before he continues his exploration of your pussy “I get to decide how the fuck we do this”.

You quieten down when you feel a finger trace your folds, spreading your wetness around. “You this much of a slut for every guy or am I just lucky?” He asks, chuckling at his own thoughts “Your friends were cheering like this is a usual thing for you”.

Before you can reply, Negan plunges two fingers deep inside your dripping cunt, his thumb grinding against your clit. “I— ah!” You mewl, trying to give a coherent response “N-no, never!”.

Negan picks up his pace, loving how you give in, basically slumping against the wall. “See, doll, I want to believe you. I mean, I don’t know that many sluts that get this fucking wet from just a little grinding… it’s shameful, really” he curls his fingers to hit the perfect spot, making your squirm.

“But in saying that,” Negan continues, his breath hitting against your neck as he leans closer “I don’t know that many modest gals that wear something like this”. 

Deciding you know better than to repeat your mistake and move again, Negan takes his hand off your back and paws at your chest instead. But in true Negan fashion, he needs to up his antics.

Tugging down the low cut neckline of your dress, you hear a ripping noise as he pulls at the fabric and forces it down past your bra.

“Huh… surprised your modest enough to wear a bra” he comments, quickly rectifying the situation. Without warning, Negan roughly shoves the bra cups up, freeing your tits completely. "Fuck, look at these," he growls, appreciating the sight of your breasts spilling out. 

The fingers he has working your hole pause and retreat, much to your disappointment. You take the opportunity to turn around to face him, starting to feeling a crick in your neck from being smushed up by the wall.

“Asshole, you tore my dress“ your voice is laced with frustration, although that may be from how much you want him to stop teasing and fuck you already. 

With an amused scoff, Negan goes to hold up his hands in surrender. His fingers glisten with your juices. “I’m trying to be a gentlemen here, doll” he chuckles as he defends himself.

You fight the urge to cover yourself, knowing that’s what he’s waiting for. He wants to see that shy side, to see you blush and get flustered. 

You glare at him instead “How is this being a gentleman?”.

“Well, I coulda just ripped it clean off, but I left ya some dignity,” Negan smirks, crowding you again. You’re left no choice but to back into the wall, holding your glare as you look up at him.

“And I've fingered ya before fucking ya which is pretty damn noble” he adds, seeing you battle between staying annoyed and wanting to blush. You open your mouth to complain but a loud moan comes out instead as Negan pinches one of your nipples.

He thumbs your hard nipples, chuckling as they perk up even more under his touch. “Damn, always knew you’d have a good pair on ya," he muses “fuckin’ perfect”.

Negan doesn't hesitate, leaning down to engulf one nipple in his mouth. He sucks hard, letting his teeth graze the sensitive bud as he kneads the other breast roughly. Groaning around your nipple, he switches to the other, assaulting it with the same fervent enthusiasm. 

With a grunt, Negan grabs your thighs and hoists you up, pinning you against the wall with his muscular body. Your legs instinctively wrap around his waist, arms going around his shoulders.

Negan grinds his still clothed cock against your bare pussy, applying just enough pressure to make you whimper. 

The rough denim of his pants provides no comfort, each thrust of his hips pressing his erection directly against your sensitive clit. "You feel that?" He asks against your tit “Want you to beg for it, gotta hear ya saying it”.

You have no hesitation. There is no reluctance to beg for him, not when you’re this close to getting what you thought would always be a wet dream. 

"Please, Negan, I need it!" you beg, your hips bucking against his pants in desperate attempts to get friction. “I’ve wanted you for so long, to fuck me in my bedroom o-or on the dinner table! Fuck, anywhere! I don’t care!”.

That seems to convince him. Reaching down and fumbling with his jeans, Negan has his cock out in record time. He grips the base, stroking it a few times as he lines it up with your soaked pussy. 

The head of his cock presses against your entrance, the tip barely peeking out from between your folds. Negan slowly eases in, allowing you to adjust to his massive size. 

You writhe and moan against him, trying to keep your body relaxed as he enters you. Trying your best to keep eye contact, you let out a string of whimpers as he fills you completely. 

"Damn, I actually fit," he says, stretching you out in a way you’ve never felt before. Negan pulls out carefully, as if testing the waters before plunging back into your needy pussy with vigor.

"Holy fuck, even tighter than I imagined. Built for my dick, aren't you?" he grunts, starting to fuck you hard.

Each brutal thrust of his hips drives his thick cock deeper into your pussy, stretching you wide open. "Fuck, you're so tight it feels like my dick is splitting you in half. Love it. Fucking love it" Negan rambles on and grabs your thighs, spreading them as wide as he can.

"Fuck, Negan... you're so..." you try to speak "ah!”. It’s all too much in the best way possible. That delicious ache of being so thoroughly penetrated, the feeling of absolute fullness with each deep thrust.

"More... fuck me more..." your hips arch up to meet his thrusts, trying to keep up.

Negan angles his hips upwards, hitting that spot inside you over and over as he pounds into you. "Look at me," He growls, "Look at me while I break you in half with my dick. You like that? You like feeling so stuffed?"

“I-I've never been this full before…” you say with teary eyes.

Negan notices your body tensing and shuddering beneath him, your pussy walls starting to flutter wildly around his thick cock. "Holy shit, there it is... Your cunt's squeezin' me like a fuckin' vice. You gonna cum on my dick?".

The pressure is building to an unbearable point, your entire body trembling as your orgasm approaches. Your mind goes blank, unable to answer his question as he hits that perfect spot.

Just as your orgasm hits, Negan feels your pussy clamp down around him like a silken fist. "Holy fuck..." you gasp, back arching as pure pleasure courses through your veins. 

Your entire body quakes, inner muscles milking his cock as you ride out your intense orgasm. You dig your nails into his shoulders, legs trembling uncontrollably.

Negan grunts, fucking you through your intense orgasm with deep, deliberate strokes. He can feel your pussy spasming wildly around his shaft, coating him in your slick arousal. As the last waves shudder through you, he finally pulls out, his cock glistening with in the light.

He lets you stand for a moment but you legs are so wobbly, it’s difficult to support your weight after that intense orgasm.

Before you can even catch your breath, Negan grabs your shoulder roughly and forces you onto your knees. Your body complies in an instant, unable to fight against such force.

Your knees ache as they hit the bathroom floor but that’s the least of your concerns. You look up at him in wide-eyed shock, lips parted as you anticipate him coming all over your face.

"Fuckin' hell, such a pretty face..." He strokes his throbbing cock with his fist, ready to explode.

But instead of aiming for your face, Negan aims his cock at your chest, unleashing a thick, hot load of cum all over your tits. He groans loudly as he paints your breasts with his seed, the warm liquid dripping down between your cleavage and seeping into the fabric of your dress.  

“Next time you’re either swallowing it or you’re getting a facial courtesy of yours truly” he informs you, although the only piece of information you truly savor from that is ‘next time’.

Doing the gentlemanly thing, he grabs some tissue from the toilet paper dispenser and hands it to you. You dab at your chest, knowing the dress is a lost cause and will probably have to be thrown out later. 

“Help me up?” You ask, somewhat shyly once you’re done.

Taking your arm in a much more gentle grip than before, Negan helps you up, subtly looking over your chest to make sure you’ve wiped off all of him. “You feeling alright?” he asks lowly, as if remembering the public place you’re both in. 

You blink, giving yourself a moment to calm, your body still humming with the aftermath. “That was…” you pause, collecting your thoughts, “...wow.”

A soft chuckle rumbles from his chest, and he slips his leather jacket off the stall door. “Well, that’s a better response than I expected,” he says with a smirk, draping the jacket around your shoulders and gently guiding your arms into the sleeves. Without a word about how the jacket nearly swallows you whole, he zips it up, pulling it snug to cover your chest. 

This is a completely different side to the Negan you’ve seen tonight. This is the Negan that gives you a small, reassuring smile after your parents throw some off handed insult your way. 

The two of you stand close, your breaths mingling. Slowly, the space between your faces narrows, as if drawn by some unspoken pull. You gently tilt your head, just enough to bring your lips into alignment with his. 

The kiss is a tender brush. Featherlight and hesitant. It’s the kind of kiss you’d expect before going at it like a bunch of animals… not afterwards.

The kiss lingers, still tasting of warmth and something unspoken. Pulling back just enough to rest your forehead against his, you can feel the soft touch of his lips still tingling on yours. You mutter against his lips, almost sheepishly “Can you drop me home?”.

His lips curl into a quiet smile, a slight glint in his eyes as he nods. “Considering I didn’t get to finish my first glass of whiskey, yeah I should be good,” Negan gives you a playful look.

Unable to help yourself, you give him a small smile. It’s not as seductive or teasing as the ones you have given him previously. In all honestly, it feels like Negan has fucked the seductiveness out of you– if that’s even possible.  

“... So this wasn’t some drunken mistake?” you ask coyly. 

Negan wraps an arm around your shoulders as he unlocks the stall door and carefully guides you out. ”Wear a dress like that the next time I’m at your parents for dinner and you’ll find out” he replies with a smirk. 

Besides his tousled hair, Negan still looks fine. He’s not dishevelled or out of breath or having trouble walking… all things you attribute to yourself.

Negan notices your state too, keeping his arm around you as you subtly leave the bathrooms and head for the exit. If it’s even possible, Negan pulls you closer, guiding you out like a drunk that’s had one too many. His presence is possessive in the gentlest of ways.

You give your friends a knowing look as you both leave, one that says you’ll explain everything later.

The sound of drunken chattering and laughter fades as you step out into the night, the streetlights casting a soft glow on the parking lot. 

When you reach the car, he opens the door for you with a small smirk, his eyes never leaving yours as you slide into the seat.  A few moments later, Negan slides into the driver's seat and the engine rumbles to life. 

The car doesn’t even get out of the parking lot before Negan’s hand finds yours. The ride home is quiet. He doesn’t say much, and neither do you, but the silence between you feels relaxed.

Every now and then, his thumb gently brushes across the back of your hand like a quiet reassurance. He doesn’t mention the contact, simply letting it linger. 

 The soft, rhythmic motion of the car becomes like a lullaby and with every mile, the weight of the night lifts just a little more. Every so often, you glance over at him, his face relaxed. When your eyes meet, he offers a smile and you sleepily return it.

Negan doesn’t pull up directly outside your house. Strategically stopping his car a little down the street, he sighs.

“Hate to say it but I’ll need that jacket back,” he gives you a once over, as if to memorize what his leather jacket looks like on you.

Fiddling with the zipper, you mumble “So I’m supposed to walk in there with a ripped up dress?”.

He laughs at that, shaking his head before reaching into the backseat. “Here, I know it’s dirty but it’s the best I can offer,” Negan hands you a sweatshirt. 

The sweatshirt is faded, its fabric softened from years of use. The sleeves are slightly frayed at the cuffs and a few small holes hint at its age. On the front, several dark oil stains mark where hands have wiped off grease, probably from Negan when working on his motorbike. 

But most importantly, it smells like him.

As you take off his jacket and put on the sweatshirt instead, Negan gives you some privacy and looks away. “Are you coming in too?” You ask, gently placing his jacket on his lap once you’ve changed.

Taking that as his signal to look, Negan gives you a sympathetic smile. “Not tonight, darlin,” he replies “think Lucille would chop my nuts off with your mom’s fancy silver if I showed my face”.

“You two are fighting that bad?”.

Negan shrugs “Same old, same old”.

You try not to fidget with the frayed sleeves of his sweatshirt, not wanting to pick at it right in front of him. 

“And… this?” You focus your attention at simply inspecting the sleeves instead of picking at them “I mean, I know you said it wasn’t a drunken mistake but still… I get it if you wanna pretend like it never happened”.

As much as you wanted quick reassurance, you’re met with silence. 

Negan leans back in his seat, taking his eyes away from yours and looking at the street. Up ahead, he can see the porch light on to your parents house. Although, he doubts Lucille will be leaving anytime soon. She’ll probably stay late, try to wait it out until Negan has drank himself silly and fallen asleep.

“Tonight shouldn’t have happened,” he says with little emotion “It ain’t right. I know it. You know it. Hell, anyone in a ten mile radius would call me all sorts of names if they knew about it…  fucking your friend’s daughter is a whole mess”.

You stay quiet, unsure whether you should just get out now.

“But shit, if you wanted to suck my dick right now, I wouldn’t say no,” he chuckles “it’s a fucked up thing to say but I wouldn’t mind something like this happening again”.

That puts a smile back on your face. Getting ready to leave, you say “Maybe if you come to dinner next time, I will suck your dick”.

Negan watches you with narrowed eyes. Of course you’d be able to make his dick twitch again, making him feel like a teenager that could get it up over and over again. 

“I’ll hold you to that,” he warns as you get out.

“Good,” you hop out of the car, giving him one last flirtatious smirk before going “I hope you do”.

Closing the door, you strut along the pavement, your heels clicking as you go to your house. Walking has never seemed so hard, not only because of your shoe choice but from the aching in your gut and your legs wobbling more than you’d like to admit. 

Still, you try to do your best to walk straight, knowing Negan is watching. 

When you get to the front door, you give Negan one last glance before disappearing inside. He wait a few moments before starting up his car and leaving. 

The first thing you hear is a chorus of polite laughter from the dining room. Great, looks like they’re still in the midst of dinner. Before you have a chance to debate if you could get upstairs without them hearing, you hear your father call out your name.

“Is that you?” He calls out.

Reluctantly, you walk in, lingering by the doorway. Your parents to turn in their dining chairs to face you. Whereas Lucille has you right in her line of view. She offers you a gracious smile as you enter.

“I thought you were staying at Lydia’s tonight,” you mom says, eyeing your sweatshirt and what appears to be a skirt. Thankfully she doesn’t comment on how short it is.

“Eh, Lydia talked things out with her boyfriend so they’re back together again,” you lie casually “you know how they are; fight, break up and make up”.

Lucille casts her gaze down slightly, as if your words hit a little too close to home for her. You shift uncomfortably. 

“There’s some leftovers in the kitchen if you’re hungry” your mom says, blissfully unaware.

“I’m ok,” you give her a smile “I think I might just shower and head to bed early”.

“Alright,” she already waves you off, turning back in her seat “if you’re sure”.

You don’t linger, giving them a polite nod before leaving. It’s only when you turn to leave does Lucille look at you again. 

She’s never believed in coincidences. And she’s never believed you to be into repairing cars. She knows the faint stains on your sweatshirt, mainly because she’s the one who spent hours trying to scrub them out… only for Negan to reward her with new stains on the damn thing. 

Nodding along with whatever it is your father is saying, Lucille’s mind strays further and further from the dinner and to Negan instead. 

Something’s happened. What exactly, she’s not sure. But you’re involved and so is her damned husband.

—————

A/N: thought I’d put in a quick note just to say thanks for reading and apologies for disappearing all month! My family almost got scammed out of 11k (it was insane) but!! More importantly!! I got seriously bad writers block so apologies if this fic is a little choppy, I’m still getting back into my stride!!

[randomly-a-fan]

On the Red-Dirt Road Finale

Pt. 1  

Pt. 2

Pt. 3

Pt. 4

Before, Chop Top whacked MJ in the head to knock her out. While MJ was knocked out, she remembered the things that Pennywise translated out for Jason by accident. ‘Does he really think I’m immature? how does he put up to my actions and reactions?’. MJ was tearing up during her unconsciousness. She didn’t think that Jason would dare to come rescue her; since she’s been disobeying her husband’s request, why would he bother? he could be a free man, the kind that can do his bidding.

In the darkness of her unconsciousness, she heard a loud ringing. “DINNER TIME.” Drayton shouted, as he was ringing the bell. MJ woke up feeling all wet and sweaty; perhaps from the aftershock after getting whacked in the head. “Yer goin’ to love Grand-dad, he’s a one-hitter when it comes to hammerin’ down victims.” Drayton explains. He was expecting a scream or a squeal, however, she was quiet. “What’s the matter, aren’t yeh excited for dinner? I know I am, and grandpa too... which reminds me *to his brothers* HURRY UP YOU SLOW-POKES, IT’S DINNER TIME.” Drayton shouted to his brothers.

***

MJ didn’t move a muscle the whole time, even if Chop Top tries to scare the crap out of her, she wouldn’t flinch. “The bitch is in a depressed state; she thought she can be a hero and save her daughter, but instead, she went down to her fate.” Drayton explained with a chuckle. Bubba stares sadly at MJ, before he walked over to her to wipe away the tears that’s been staining her cheeks. “Good call, Grandpa hated salty brew.” Drayton said.

After MJ’s face was cleaned, Bubba carried MJ all the way to the washtub next to grandpa, where grandpa does a one-hitter, only, he keeps dropping the hammer multiple times. If MJ had the moment to make the mock, she’d say: 'He’s a one-hitter alright, he really hits the floor to its death.' But she’s just accepting her fate. When grandpa got the aim, she was knocked out again.

The Sawyers were going to do more to her, until they noticed that the ceiling is falling apart, and that they’ve all heard a weird noise. The noise was coming from the large pipe. Jason jumped out, making a threatening chi chi and ah ah. Even though Drayton have met Jason before, he couldn’t recognize him under his Hockey Mask. “What’s the big idea! What business do you have?” Drayton shouted at the intruder. Jason first removed his hockey mask then puts it back on. “Ah, Jason is it, what’cha doin’ wearing a hockey mask?” Drayton asked with a fake smile. Drayton was unaware that Chop Top was petrified; he knew that the hockey-masked guy was The Camp Blood Legend.

Jason saw from over Drayton’s shoulder, was his wife with her face in the washtub, then the old creepy man in a wheelchair with a hammer. Jason stared angrily at Drayton. “Oh uh, look... I tell you what sonny, I’ll give you some money, if you just spare us and be on your way.” Drayton said while holding out the money from his pocket. Jason doesn’t give a damn about money, he wanted his wife, alive, so he raised his machete and charged at the boys. Jason successfully stabbed Drayton in the behind, which will give him quite a shock. Drayton crawled under the table in fear. Chop Top gave grandpa the hammer before he cowers in fear. “Bubba, get’em down, he’s no match for you, get’em!” Chop Top yelled out at his little brother. Bubba didn’t want to move a muscle; he gave Jason the friendship bracelet a long time ago, does he really want to kill off his friend? 

While Bubba thinks, he remembers what Malon has told him, about making the choice for himself, and listen to his own heart. Jason shoved grandpa out of the way and caused the wheelchair to roll backwards. Jason cut the binds from MJ’s arms and tries to wake her up. MJ only groans as she’s trying to get out of her unconsciousness, so Jason lifted up his mask and gave her a kiss by the lips, to help her snap out of her unconsciousness. “...Jay?” MJ said groggily. Jason nodded while tearing up. As Jason hugged his wife tight, Chop Top was going to whack both Jason and MJ in the head, with a hammer that he has picked up when Grandpa fell. Bubba saw what his brother is going to do, so he gave his brother a good whack in the head with a lamp to give him a shock. Jason and MJ were shocked to what they’ve just witnessed. “Bubba! You saved our lives?” MJ asked in shock. Bubba nodded while whimpering; he hit his own brother, his own family, but he can’t stand to see his friends get killed, not when Malon will be missing them.

Without the Voorhees or Bubba knowing, Drayton took a grenade from the Nubbins corpse’s pocket and pulled the ring off of it. “Come with us, Bubba; you can relive a happy life, away from your traumatic events.” MJ offered. When Bubba was about to accept, he heard a faint noise from under the table. Bubba then noticed the grenade that Drayton was using, so Bubba squealed at the Voorhees to make them leave, while Bubba goes over to stop the grenade from hitting his friends, even if it means giving his own life for them.

***

Malon and Aquarius were waiting outside, while Pennywise lays on the sofa to settle his stomach. Then they both heard an explosion. “What was that!?” Malon asked in panic. Aquarius saw that the hideout was about to collapse, so she held Malon in her arms, to prevent her from looking out the bus window. “Is mom and dad back yet?” Malon asked with worry. “Penny, can you sense anything?” Aquarius asked with hope. “I don’t know, I’m still recovering from my tummy ache.” Pennywise answered. Malon didn’t care if Aquarius didn’t want Malon to see, she squirmed out of her grasp and rushed outside. “MOM... DAD...” Malon called out. 

Aquarius rushed out to Malon’s side. “Malon... You’re a big girl now, and I believe it’s time for you to face the music... I don’t think your parents made it out.” Aquarius said sadly. Malon looked up with tears. “NO, my dad is alive, and he’s keeping mommy alive too, I just know it... I can feel it!” Malon said with angry tears in her eyes.

After a few minutes, and the dust is settling, they’ve noticed a large figure coming towards them; Jason was carrying his wife bridal-style out of the dust. “They’re alive, thank God!” Aquarius praised. “MOM... DAD.” Malon shouted out before running towards them with happy tears. Jason puts MJ on the ground so they can both give Malon a heartwarming hug. “Look at us, we’re together again... As a family.” MJ said while tearing up. Then something came to Malon’s mind. “Where’s Bubba?” Malon asked in concern. “I wanted to thank him, and take him home with us.” Malon said. Jason and MJ stared sadly at each other before staring back at Malon. “Sweetie, Bubba risked his life for us, he went down with his brothers; it’s all he ever wanted.” MJ explained sadly. Malon’s mouth was wide open after hearing that. “You mean he’s... No... No... NO...” Malon collapsed down with tears running down her eyes. “That’s not fair, Bubba did not deserve this!” Malon bawled. Jason hated to see Malon crying so hard, but he had to get Malon and MJ onto the bus, so he waved at Aquarius to walk Malon into the bus, while Jason carries his wife into his arms again.

*** 

Once Pennywise was driving, Aquarius took a look at MJ’s injured foot. “I think it’s cute when Bubba tries to fix it with a ‘Hello Kitty’ band-aid, however, it won’t help with the possible infection. When we get back home, we’ll make a stop at my cousin’s place; she performs tetanus shots and other vaccinations. But for now, we have to clean it up and patch it up.” Aquarius said while fixing MJ’s foot.

While Aquarius was cleaning MJ’s foot, MJ and Jason were looking at Malon in the back of the bus. Malon was still upset for what Bubba has put himself into. Jason wanted to join Malon by laying down next to her. He was going to wrap his arm around her, but he assumes that Malon was not in the mood to be cuddled. Until he felt Malon snuggling against him, and wrapped her arm around her dad. Jason also saw Malon tearing up, and is rubbing her face against his side, so Jason patted her head and gave her multiple kisses.

*** 

After Pennywise drove past the border, Aquarius insisted that they stop at the diner for breakfast. However, Malon didn’t want to eat; she was too much in destress to eat. But MJ and Jason didn’t want Malon to not eat, so they both decided to stay with Malon for a few minutes. “You two go ahead, we’ll come in eventually.” MJ said. 

So, once the Grays went in, MJ and Jason sat next to Malon to talk to her. “Sweetheart, we understand that you’re sad over Bubba, but you have to understand that he gave his life for us.” MJ explained. “But why doesn’t Bubba want to come with us? We could have given him a happy life, away from his abusive brothers.” Malon asked with confusion. “He didn’t come with us, because he didn’t want to leave his brothers; they’re his family.” MJ answered. “Even though they’ve been mean to him? Siblings should never be mean to their siblings.” Malon said. 

MJ paused as she tries to think of a response. When she looked over at her husband, something came up. “Let me ask you this Malon, remember when your grandparents came over for a visit, and that they’ve been mean to daddy?” MJ asked. Malon nodded. “Well, mainly grandpa, but yeah.” Malon added. “Well, if my parents offered to take you home with them, would you go? I mean, my dad knew that your dad is a serial-killer.” MJ asked. “Of course not, I love you and dad very much! I know dad kills trespassers, but that’s only because he’s protecting us from harm.” Malon explained. “There you go; even though Bubba was bullied by his brothers, it doesn’t mean he wants to leave them.” MJ explained. 

Malon nodded slowly after hearing the facts. “It doesn’t help to state the fact that he’s now dead...” Malon said. “But I’m assuming that he’s happy in heaven, and he would want me to be happy too... Though, is it alright for me to be sad?” Malon asked. “Of course.” MJ answered while giving her daughter a hug. Jason smiled at his girls for sharing a bond, until his wife pulled his arm to join in the hug. Once the conversation is settled, the Voorhees went into the diner for a hearty-breakfast. 

However, for what Malon has witnessed at the hideout, she didn’t want to eat any meat, so she asked the waitress to hold any meat products; such as sausages, ham, and bacon. “Malon, you love bacon, what’s wrong?” MJ asked. “Clearly for what your kid has been through, she doesn’t want to eat any meat that came from a living creature. So, she chose to live her life as a vegetarian.” Pennywise explained for Malon. “No one was asking you Penny.” Aquarius informed. “Sweetie, being a vegetarian is a big decision; it can be life changing if your body wasn’t used to having protein.” MJ explained. Malon didn’t respond to that; her traumatic event caused her to not have anything to do with murder. 

Jason understands what she’s thinking, if he were in Malon’s shoes, he wouldn’t want to eat meat either, thank goodness for him, he can still eat steak. Jason isn’t too worried; Malon is still young, so she might change her mind about wanting to be a vegetarian... He hopes.

Bonus

Back in Texas, the construction workers were taking care of the demolition of The Texas Battle Land. When one of the crew workers was eating his sandwich, he heard someone approaching from behind. When the man turned around, he saw a large man in a leather mask. As the man screamed in terror, Bubba chopped him up with a chainsaw. Once the man is dead, he swung his chainsaw around in the air on the road by the abandoned amusement park.

The End???  

[writerrelapse]

It Rains Aboard the February

Short thing I wrote while abroad. SciFi Horrorish? Might revisit some time to do more with it.

Please check out the tags for trigger warnings. Gonna list 'em up here too:

#tw child death #tw blood #tw gore #tw overt racism #tw mention of unaliving

"I heard this thing can go twice as fast as those military planes. You know, the ones radar can't see," said Markus, watching the sun arc over the curve of the world from the porthole of the February. He swirled his cocktail in one hand, pressed a finger to the impossibly thick glass.

"Are you all set, sir?" the server at his elbow asked. Her nametag said something he didn't know how to pronounce.

"Sure," he replied, waving her away. 

She left with a click of heels and the whoosh of heavily filtered air. He'd have to tell Lockheed about the sound the door made--too loud, disruptive. The instinct to check his smartwatch came and went. He was supposed to be on vacation; no emails, no conference calls--something cold touched the back of his neck and he wiped at it, distracted by the swirl of clouds over Canada. If he asked, maybe the pilot would let him use one of the telescopes to find Sarah sitting on the back porch of her mother's house where she'd fled from the states, from him, her hands dirty with garden dirt. 

Markus drank the rest of his cocktail, nose wrinkling. Vacation, he reminded himself. He was in orbit on Lockheed's dime, for chrissakes. Jettisoned as far away from everything as humanly possible by the fuel of grit and prosperity, good service, good practice and long nights standing between Lockheed and the budding union heads in untailored suits.

He left the lounge for the spa. A massage would get his mind off things.

***

Stretched out on his stomach, he floated in the red warmth behind his eyelids, Anita's blunt knuckles kneading at a knot in the meat of his shoulder. He grunted when her weight bore down.

Anita asked, "Good? Bad?"

"Fine," he said. A little pain meant it was working. The white noise playing from the ceiling speakers changed to the hiss of soft rain, the hum of an engine, the padding under him fine Italian leather. "Can you change the noise?" he asked.

The masseuse hummed, her soft footsteps going to the side table. "Batteries are dead. Lo siento, I will find more," she apologized, hurrying out. 

Markus grumbled and shifted on the table under the towel. Water hit him, cold and wet, slithering down his arm. "Anita, what the fuck is leaking?" he called. 

"La lluvia," said a girl's voice above the sound of traffic and water dripping into a gutter. 

Markus shoved himself up onto his elbows and craned his neck. Who the fuck had brought their kid--

She stood in a paisley raincoat in the shadow beyond the doorway, dripping water onto the shining plex floor. 

Markus grabbed at the towel around his waist, scrambling off the table. He slipped and landed hard on his hip, "Fuck." He could see her small legs and her rainboots between the legs of the massage table. 

Don't worry, Lockheed had told him. We'll deal with it. It was raining. You didn't see her. You hydroplaned. Accidents happen. The car was brand new and so fast, he wasn't used to it yet, he didn't know how the light had been red. Horrible tragedy, not worthy of manslaughter, your honor. Mister Markus Holland regrets--

"La lluvia," said the girl in the raincoat. 

Then it poured in buckets, soaking through his towel, hammering against his shoulders. The room would fill. He would drown. No matter the sleeping pills, the drinks, the company bonuses--he would drown.

"Mister Holland," Anita said, standing over him, brown eyes large and worried, dry. "Did you fall?"

No girl, no water. Markus clambered to his feet. "No, I--did you bring a goddamn kid here?" he yelled. He must've seen her welfare brat running around somewhere and it made him remember.

Anita blinked. "No, no there are no children on the ship, Mister Holland," she answered. "Do you...want me to work more on you or?"

Markus stormed out, tying the towel at his waist with shaking fingers. He should've been keeping up with the sleeping pills, even if they made him feel like shit in the morning. Lack of sleep could make a person hallucinate. In his room he took a dose, pulled on a pair of lounge pants and went to the large, plush bed to wait for them to kick in and his heart to stop hammering. It wasn't his fault. The Porsche had been fast--his first luxury car--the rain had been dense. Could happen to anyone.

The ceiling was made of asphalt, glistening with water and puddle mirrors. Her body was crumpled against the drain, leg at a wrong angle, fingers curled limp and pale. 

He opened his mouth to scream. Water dripped from her hair into the back of his throat. No, no. It had been--

"La lluvia," she said, head lolling like it would come off.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry--"

Her eyes looked at him, glassy and discolored. One disoriented in the socket and showing pink muscle. 

"They needed me. I was their golden boy. I couldn't go down for--for--"

Droplets let go from her fingers, tinged with red as they hit his face. The girl's eyes had been the same hazel as Sarah's as she'd served him divorce papers,"You can keep the car."

"I don't want the car. I don't want the money."

"You did, and you got them."

***

Sarah stretched out on the weathered porch boards, giving her back a break from pulling weeds out of the vegetable bed. The rabbits had done a number on it but she had more chicken wire coming. Her phone buzzed in her pocket and she checked the number. 'Ralph LOCKHEED.' She didn't remember his last name anymore. Not that it mattered. She answered him with, "If you're going to try and apologize for Markus again, I'm tossing my phone in the creek."

"No," he answered quickly. "Don't hang up. Listen, Markus passed. The cops are investigating because he left a will. Emailed it out just before his death. He left you a lot of his assets. The rest are going to the mother of that girl he hit and, get this, a couple union heads he'd busted."

Sarah heard herself ask, "Did he kill himself?"

"That's the story the cops are going with, but here's the thing. He drowned."

"But...he was on the February, right? That fancy billionaire's spaceship?"

"Yes,” Ralph answered. “And he drowned."

[fullmoonandstar]

Roommate

Matt Murdock × reader

Cw: none?

Rating: G

Word count: 1k

Summary: You work from home when the former owner of the apartment gets undusted

(This can be read as gn!reader but is afab in future releases)

A/N: imagine you rented Matt’s apartment after he got snapped and now he suddenly appears again! I thought that was interesting and wrote this thing. Let me know if you want more :)

Raindrops slammed against the windows as if they had to prove that autumn was here. You sat at your desk typing a particularly hard email to your boss who became more and more demanding. There simply were not enough people to do the jobs and there was nothing you could do about that. More than five years ago half of the world’s population had disappeared and even though Kevin from accounting was working hard to repopulate the earth, it would still take about 18 years until the babies from today could enter the work -

Crash! The loud noise from the living room made you jump from your chair. You held your breath and listened. Then you heard it, a groan and a quiet swear. Oh fuck, there’s someone in my apartment. How did they get in? Judging from the fact that you were not faced with an armed robber right now, they had not noticed yet that you were home and maybe you could drive them out. You grabbed the metal bat you kept next to your bed and snuck to the living room door. Your heart hammered in your chest and the only thing you could hear was the rushing blood in your ears. Not the best moment for that, now that you needed to listen for any sound that person of people in your apartment made. Maybe if you came out swinging, they would retreat. You tried to listen but there was no movement in the living room, no steps, not that you could tell anyways. Maybe they were listing too? You swallowed hard, ripped the sliding door open, and swung your bat. 

"Get the fuck out of my house!"

"Wow! Stop!"

The man that stood in your living room with his hands raised was not what you had expected. He wore a suit for one, not something burglars usually wore to commit a crime but the black glasses that sat on his nose were even stranger. With the thick rain clouds it was almost dark enough that you wanted to turn on the lights, but here was this guy literally wearing sunglasses. You grabbed the bat tighter. Even if he did not look like a threat that did not mean he was harmless.

"I don’t know how you got in here but is my apartment and I want you out. Now."

To your confusion, he asked you if this was the apartment under your address and you said "Yes."

Why did he ask that? Was this some sort of distraction maneuver while some buddy of his arrived?

"Then this is my apartment."

You scoffed.

"Buddy, I’m paying the rent so this is my place."

His brows furrowed behind the glasses. 

"So, if you don’t mind. The door is there."

You pointed with the bat and took a step forward, only then you saw it. 

"What the fuck did you do to my table?"

One of the legs was broken out from under it and splinters surrounded it. Not even talking about the shattered mug next to it. 

"I … I was walking and it was suddenly in my way," his voice was alarmed now. 

"What do you mean "it was suddenly in your way"? That table had been there for 2 years." 

"And how did you not see it?" you added in exasperation. "It’s red!"

Everyone told you that table was ugly but you loved it with fiery passion and now it was in pieces.

Your eyes threw daggers at the man. The corners of his mouth twitched and he took off the glasses. 

"I’m blind."

The man’s light brown eyes looked right through you and you waved your hand experimentally but there was no reaction, his pupils stay unfocused. 

"I can hear you waving," he said and brought his hand to his hips. "What do you mean the table has been there for 2 years? I have lived here for 3 years."

I wonder…

"Who are you? What’s your name?"

"Matthew Murdock."

That name echoed around in your head until it hit something, a memory.

"You got some id?"

He was not pleased but produced a wallet from inside his suit jacket and pulled out his id. It was him alright. The Id was set to expire in 2020. If your suspicion was true, this was totally possible.

"Wait here."

You rushed to the closet in the bedroom and pulled out a box from the top shelf that you never used. When you had moved in the landlord had told you you should clean out the rest of the stuff that was in the apartment, which was mainly stray letters that had arrived over the years. Whatever else had been in here, had been cleaned out by relatives or stolen. You had put the letters in a box, vowing to throw them out at some point, and had forgotten about them as soon as they had left your sight. The box had gathered dust on the closet and you coughed when you opened it.

"Oh boy."

There it was, Black on white: Matthew Michael Murdock, your address.

"What is it?"

Matthew stood at the door and listened. You plastered an apologetic smile on your face out of habit, even though he could not see it.

"Do you want a coffee? Or some tequila? Either way, I think you better sit down for this."

You flirted with the idea of a midday drinking but opted for a coffee instead. It did not mean you could not switch to something harder later.

"Okay, I don’t how to say this so I’ll just say it."

Matthew sat opposite you in the fluffy armchair and listened.

"It’s 2023," - his eyebrows crept up - "about 5 years ago half of every living thing on the earth just disappeared. And you were one of them."

"You’re kidding me."

"I wish I was. I’ve been living in this apartment for 4 years."

Matthew sank into the armchair as if the weight of the knowledge was pressing him into the soft cushions. You sipped your coffee while he sat across from you letting the fact, that he had been dead for 5 years sink in. The skin around his left eye was green, like a faded bruise. Who the fuck would beat a blind man? He blinked slowly and finally said: "Can I get that tequila now?"

[lockuptherain]

My entry for the #tagminibang2022 is inspired by the artwork of @jbarkerstargazer which can be found at the end of the piece. Thanks to @tagminibang for setting this up. So, without further ado:

Roll Call

It had been, John reflected, one hell of a day. It was the sort of day that one couldn’t simply switch off from.

Heh he laughed at himself I’m starting to think like Penny.

After finally seeing his brothers safely home he’d found himself too wired to simply go to bed. The rehydrated meal hadn’t exactly hit the spot either and had left him feeling restless but, unusually for him, with the inability to focus on anything in particular.

EOS hadn’t understood. To her it was another successful mission, everybody returned safe and more or less sound. 

“International Rescue has performed at higher than expected levels” she’d said, confused. “Given the parameters, more people were successfully saved than models anticipated.”

She was so very young.

How could he explain to her that it wasn’t the close call Gordon had, or the shock Alan had faced or even that if Virgil had been even slightly less strong then it all would have gone horribly wrong? The problem was Scott. Scott had blindsided him, appearing on the comm with the little baby girl tucked under his arm. It shouldn’t have gotten to him. International Rescue saved children just like they saved adults. Of course they did. Saving babies was rarer, but John had seen each of his brothers with a youngster or two. He’d even pulled a six month old from the rubble of an old farm house after the twister in Oklahoma.

Perhaps he should have tried to explain, he mused some hours later, instead of blowing EOS’ confusion off. But instead of facing up to the memories and, worse still, the feelings that Scott and the little baby produced, he’d instead opted for a comfort he seldom, if ever, allowed himself on the space station; a long shower, lots of chocolate, his favourite book and, finally, most importantly, normal clothes.

Now he reclined on a long shelf in the gravity wheel, his right hand side pressed against the reinforced glass, as close as he could physically get to the velvet void beyond. With his paperback resting comfortably on his chest he finally felt the inner turmoil ease. Here, in his own personal safe haven, he allowed himself to remember, and for EOS sake, he started speaking out loud.

“It’s been a long time since I last saw Scott with someone so little” he said. Over his shoulder a camera ran quietly along its rail, signifying that EOS was listening. “But, at one point, it was every day. Scott was only ten when our mother died, but Alan was just a baby.”

He could see it clearly in his minds eye. Around him Thunderbird Five faded away to be replaced by the family homestead. Outside the kitchen window rain hammered down, unleashed from heavy dark clouds that had turned the afternoon into a dark and dingy affair. Inside the kitchen John’s only elder brother sat at the table focusing intently on his mathletics homework.

“I know this will be a difficult concept for you EOS but when you’re only nine, your ten year old brother is so much older than you are. We all looked up to Scott, after we lost mom, and I’m ashamed to say it took me longer than I’d like to take on my share of the responsibility. But, at that time, I thought Scott had it all sorted.”

In his mind’s eye the rain worsened and a sudden flash lit up the usually cosy kitchen. Scott and John both looked to the window, each counting before a loud boom rent the air. John jumped, instinctively looking for mom who would tell him that everything was alright; it was just a storm. But, of course, she wasn’t there. Dad was in his office and had told Scott he was not to be disturbed.

“It’s okay Johnny” Scott said. “Just a bit of noise is all.” Another thunderclap sallied forth and John bit his lip. Scott was right, it was just a bit of noise and noise couldn’t hurt you. Upstairs the baby started crying having been rudely awoken from his nap by the terrible sound. Scott didn’t leap up in a panic though. Like it was a completely natural, everyday occurrence, he turned his tablet off and put it aside.

“Hey, can you check on Virgil for me?” He asked. “Maybe prise him away from the window and make sure it’s shut this time?” This made John smile a bit. The last time a storm this big had rolled though Virgil had only been about four and instead of being scared by the storm he’d been fascinated by it. Mom had thought he’d slept through it, only to find her little guy soaked through and almost hanging out his bedroom window. 

At John’s nod Scott left and made his way calmly up to the nursery and a terrified young baby. John didn’t see him again till much later that evening. The storm was still roiling outside and John had just convinced Gordon to go to bed - there was no point with Virgil, he’d be up until the storm died down or he’d put himself to bed if he got tired enough. Little came between him and sleep.

John wandered back to his own room, scolding himself for jumping at the latest boom. Once there he quickly hid under the covers (because it was cold, of course, not because of the storm). A short time later his door cracked open and Scott came in, little Alan balanced under one arm.

“See Allie? John’s not scared of the storm. He’s gone to bed like a good boy. And you saw Gordon, he’s also in bed like a good boy. Shall we check on Virgil now? I bet he’s not scared either” and with that they turned to go, Scott softly pulling the door closed behind them.

John forgot all about it until the next big storm when the same thing happened again. It happened the storm after that too and the one following.

“It became their thing” John explained to his young AI. “Every time there was a big storm, or a power outage or even if more than one of us were sick, Scott would pick Alan up and they’d go round checking their brothers weren’t scared. Alan even carried on once Scott joined USAF, though by that time Alan had to be real careful about just walking into his older brothers rooms in the dead of night unannounced” John laughed. “I guess he finally grew out of it.”

“But I don’t understand, John” the AI said, sounding confused. John new that, whilst her response was instantaneous for him, for EOS she’d held a long pause as she’d thought about what he’d said. “What does that have to do with today?”

John sighed internally, trying to put his feelings into a form the AI would understand.

“I wasn’t expecting it, I suppose” he said. “Seeing the little girl and seeing how Scott just carried on reminded me so sharply of those storms.”

“You were unprepared for the reminiscence” she said, somewhere between a question and a statement.

“I was” John confirmed. Slowly he sat up, dislodging his book and the old photograph he used as a bookmark. He fingered the image carefully so as not to damage it more than age already had. It showed himself and his brothers on a a rare camping trip. They weren’t lined up or smiling for the camera. It was something their father had snapped, capturing a moment. He could just make out himself, up in the beaches of a tree, nose buried in a book. In the background Virgil was chasing Gordon - John didn’t remember why. But the main focus of the photo was a thirteen-year-old Scott with three-year-old Alan tucked under one arm. In Scott’s other hand was a large leaf which is was holding up for Alan to look at.

“ I have prepared the space elevator for you, John” EOS said. John smiled, she may be young but sometimes she was also very astute.

“Thank you EOS” he said. “I think a freshly made breakfast is something we’d all enjoy after that call-out.” 

Thinking only of the best way to whip up pancake batter John descended back to Earth, to his own bed and a surprise for his brothers.

Four months later International Rescue was grounded as a tropical storm swept over Tracy Island. Up in low orbit a subroutine installed by EOS alerted her to late night movement in the house occupied by her father’s family. Quickly she dove through the Ethernet and jumped from camera to camera. There she saw Alan Tracy emerge from his room and move to that of Gordon Tracy. A quick scan proved Gordon to be asleep, something that the youngest member of the family quickly ascertained for himself before moving on to the next eldest brother. Outside Virgil Tracy’s door Alan paused. The door opened from the inside and the eldest Tracy stepped through. Scott and Alan didn’t exchange a word. As EOS watched, Scott slung an arm around Alan’s shoulders and they moved on to the room belonging to Grandma Tracy. EOS followed them as they checked on each family member together before heading to the kitchen. She thought for a moment and then, on the nearest monitor, offered up a live image of a sleeping John so that all members of the family could be properly accounted for.

Down on the island Alan nudge Scott as he noticed John’s image. The eldest brother turned from measuring out coco powder and smiled.

“Thanks EOS” he said. “Another storm and other roll call completed.”

[jessikahathaway]

Baby Talk - Part II

Pairing: Jikook X Reader (Jimin X Reader X Jungkook)

Genre: Surrogacy!AU, Polyamorous!AU, Romance. (Future Smut)

Warnings: Profanity, medical procedures, pining (Like a stupid amount but what can ya do), Joon and Jin get protective, mentions of pregnancy symptoms. (If I forgot anything please let me know!)

Words: 10.5k (I guess I'm committing to long chapters lol)

You’d hit the four week mark, and not much had happened yet.

Despite you feeling like your hormones were on a swing.

Jimin was bewildered when he came into the bathroom to find you crying on the floor. Trying to comfort you went downhill quickly because soon you were mad that he was joking around. Then you were crying again, apologizing for being so harsh.

Up and down and up and down.

But they never got mad at you. Never yelled at you and never ignored you. But you forced your emotions down deep into your heart. A place that would be locked and the key thrown away. Because you knew what was happening, and it simply couldn’t happen.

It was late and you could feel your stomach begging for something to eat. You’d gotten really hungry lately, no doubt your body trying to accommodate for the new life you were growing inside of you.

So, you hurried to the kitchen under the guise of night and made some rice and a little bit of stir fry. You put together everything, making sure not to make too much, and started cooking.

It was around three in the morning when you sat down at the table and ate your food, looking through your phone with a bored expression. Nothing interesting on social media and YouTube videos were only entertaining for so long. So, you ate your food and cleaned up before starting to head back towards your room.

Then, a large flash went off in the sky, causing you to jolt and look out into the city. Rain was pelting against the window, sounding sharp to your ears. It was a little intimidating.

Then the loud crash of thunder rang through the house.

You yelped at the noise, covering your ears in fear. You’d never particularly liked thunderstorms, but this one was coming in hot and aggressive. You pulled your hands away from your ears, just trying to focus on getting back to your room when another flash lit up the room. Your heart was hammering in your chest and you started to sweat.

Before you could think too much about it you were knocking on Jungkook and Jimin’s door. Another crash of thunder roared through the house and you swear you felt the floor shake. You whimpered in fear and fidgeted with the hem of your shirt. Did they hear you? Or was the storm too loud? Should you go in? What if they weren’t decent?

Jimin had said you could go in if something was wrong...

But did being scared of a thunderstorm count?

FLASH.

BANG.

You couldn’t take it anymore and you burst through the door with tears in your eyes. Fear causing you to shake violently.

Jimin and Jungkook both bolted up in bed at the sound of the door slamming open, and were out of bed instantly at the sight of you shaking on the floor.

“Y/N? What’s going on? Are you alright? Are you hurt?” Jungkook’s worried voice echoed in your ear.

“She’s trembling,” Jimin said, rubbing your back.

“I-I I’m sc-”

FLASH.

BANG.

You cried and flung your arms around Jungkook’s neck, burying your face in his chest, tears streaming down your face as you shook violently. Jungkook looked at Jimin in shock and a little bit of his own fear, but Jimin just took his hand and placed it on your head.

‘Comfort her,’ Jimin mouthed.

Jungkook nodded before rubbing your hip soothingly.

“What’s wrong Y/N? Is it the storm?” He asked, bringing his other hand to your shoulder.

“Y-Yes,” you whimpered, keeping your face buried in Jungkook’s neck.

“It’s alright, Jimin and I got you. You’ll be safe,” Jungkook promised.

Jimin rubbed soothing circles onto your back as the two of them tried to ease your frantic heart. Both of them knowing it can’t be good for the baby. But, also, on you. The stress of carrying a baby was already a lot, the fear of this thunderstorm wasn’t a good addition.

Soon, you had cried yourself to sleep.

Jimin took you in his arms, picking you up and Jungkook followed after him as they headed for your room.

The couple laid you down in bed, brushing your face tenderly. Jungkook watched as Jimin covered you up, bringing the sheets right up under your chin. He smiled at the soft pout on your lips, he wondered if the baby would have your cute pout.

Jimin, moved your hair away from your eyes, tucking it behind your ear gently. When he was certain you were settled he took Jungkook’s hand and headed back to their bedroom.

“God, that scared the fuck out of me,” Jungkook said, sitting down on the side of the bed.

“Me too,” Jimin agreed, rubbing his face in exhaustion.

“Didn’t know she was that scared of storms, makes me want to beat up the sky for scaring her like that,” Jungkook said, frowning.

Jimin laughed lightly, but kissed his boyfriend lovingly. “I know you would if you could, or at the very least, sue it,” he snorted.

“Ooh, yeah, that could work,” Jungkook said.

“I’d never seen her like that, so vulnerable. She always puts up such a tough exterior,” Jimin said, biting his lip.

“Yeah, maybe it shows that she’s starting to trust us. I can’t imagine how hard it must be to live with two people who are kinda strangers to her,” Jungkook said, feeling awkward.

“Well, maybe we can fix that,” Jimin reasoned.

“What do you have in mind my stunningly attractive boyfriend?” Jungkook asked, leaning forward.

“Mmm, let’s take her shopping. Spoil her a bit, you’ve got more zeros in your bank account than I can count on all of my fingers. She’s gonna need maternity clothes anyways. Imagine her all dressed in Gucci and Prada while walking around pregnant with our baby,” Jimin said, appearing to be day dreaming himself.

“That would be... nice... To spoil her, show her we care about her well being and everything,” Jungkook nodded in agreement.

“Let’s do it,” Jimin said, gripping Jungkook’s hands.

“Okay, yeah!”

Unfortunately for the couple, you appeared to be hating every second of this shopping excursion.

“Y/N! Come on,” Jungkook said, walking with Jimin’s hand interlocked with his.

“Coming, coming,” you sighed, following after them.

“Y/N? Are you alright? Do you need a break?” Jimin asked, stopping to take a look at you.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just, sleepy,” you grumbled.

The boys had effectively cut off your caffeine intake as of late, and it was showing. You were more exhausted than ever, just wanting to sleep the day away, but the two men wanting to hear nothing of it today. Normally they would’ve just let you sleep, but, today was a different story.

Jimin bit his lip and looked at Jungkook with concern.

You didn’t seem to be having fun at all.

What was the point in spoiling you if you were just gonna wind up pissed off at the end of it? But maybe you just hadn’t found something you wanted yet. Jimin didn’t want to lose faith so early on, but you really were in a grumpy mood today.

Jungkook pointed out several different kinds of stores, suggesting different ones and you merely told them that whatever they wanted was fine. Feeling defeated already, Jimin told Jungkook to pick a store and maybe you’d find something you wanted in there.

Soon, you were in some high end designer store, looking around with a bored expression on your face. Most girls loved when you spoiled them, wanting nothing more than to have free reign with a credit card and a whole shopping mall. But you looked so fragile and out of place in this big store.

Jungkook looked around and found some things he wanted, Jimin too, but you were still sitting on the bench, head in your hand and looking tired.

The couple looked at each other, wondering what in the world they could do to make you smile. All they wanted to do was spoil you, make you feel better...

“Are you two with the young lady over there,” the store attendant asked, pointing at you with genuine curiosity.

“Ah, yes, she’s with us,” Jimin confirmed.

“I take it she’s not really into the whole shopping experience,” the attendant said, and the couple nodded sadly.

“We just wanted to spoil her, take her out and get her stuff she wanted. But it looks like she’d rather die than be here right now,” Jungkook said, frowning.

“Well, what are some things that she likes?” The shop attendant asked.

“Books,” both of them said quickly.

The attendant laughed at them softly, nodding.

“My wife is a fan of books too, sometimes I wonder if she likes them more than me. But, you said you want to spoil her right? Tell her that, explain what you’re doing, sometimes that helps,” he offered.

Jimin nodded, looking over at your sleepy figure in the corner of the store.

“It’s worth a shot,” he said.

The pair thanked the shop attendant for his time and headed towards you.

You looked up and tried to give the couple a smile, but it looked awkward and forced, making them frown even more. Jungkook sat down next to you, and Jimin kneeled in front of you.

“Y/N, do you know why we forced you out of your blankety cocoon today?” Jimin asked, looking at you with curiosity.

“You said you wanted to take me shopping,” you said, gazing back at him.

“Exactly, we wanted to take you shopping. Not just shop for ourselves and drag you around. We want to spoil you, give you whatever you want. All you have to do is ask and you can have it, Y/N, money isn’t an issue here,” Jimin said.

Biting your lip you felt yourself get uncomfortable. “I-I don’t really like being spoiled, you know? I um... It makes me feel weird,” you said, rubbing your neck.

“The last thing we wanted to do was make you upset,” Jungkook said, biting his lip.

“No I’m not upset I just feel awkward,” you explained.

“Oh, there’s no need to feel awkward Y/N, it’s just us,” Jimin reassured.

“People keep staring at us, like I’m some lame friend third wheeling on a date,” you sighed, rubbing your face.

Jimin and Jungkook both swallowed hard.

They hadn’t realized people were staring. But it would make sense, Jimin and Jungkook were known in the city and suddenly a girl is walking around with them? That did seem a bit odd. They were also regulars in this mall and no doubt the staff were looking too.

God, they had messed this whole day up.

“Oh Y/N, we’re sorry,” Jungkook said, pressing his hands to his face.

“Sorry? Sorry for what?” You asked, turning to look at him with confusion.

“Not including you,” Jimin explained.

“There’s no need to include me-” you started when Jungkook cut you off quickly.

“Yes there is, you’re carrying our baby, we want you to feel comfortable and safe. Not ignored and shut out, that’s not fair to you,” he said, brushing his hair away from his face.

“Yeah, we want you to have whatever you want. As long as it isn’t unhealthy for you or the baby,” Jimin said.

“This isn’t about flexing or whatever on other people, this is about you. And what you want,” Jungkook said.

“Well,” you said, worrying your lip with your teeth.

“Yes?” Jimin said, leaning forward.

“It’s, well, I guess some new clothes wouldn’t be bad. I’ll need maternity stuff,” you told them.

“Yes! Absolutely! We can do that!” Jimin said, standing up and pulling you with him.

However, it was a little too fast for you, causing your head to spin. Jungkook was steadying you with his warm palms on your waist, Jimin keeping you upright with his hands around your wrists.

“Sorry Y/N! I-I wasn’t thinking and I got so excited, sorry,” Jimin frowned at himself.

“It’s alright,” you said, not wanting him to be upset over something that didn’t really matter.

“I need to be more gentle with you, you’re carrying our baby for Christ sakes,” Jimin huffed.

You nodded, noticing the stern look on Jimin’s face. Licking your dry lips, you looked down at your feet. You were only a month along so you couldn’t really see anything yet. But knowing there was a life inside of you made you feel a little flutter in your chest every time you thought about it.

However, you needed to get that under control.

This wasn’t your baby.

And that’s just how it was going to be.

Jimin and Jungkook had managed to drag you into a designer store for mothers apparently, because everything in here looked like it was worth a fortune. How were you supposed to pick something and wear it when you were afraid it was gonna get dirty? For fucksake you were almost certain they would be ruined by the end of this pregnancy.

“Ooh! Y/N, pink is your color,” Jimin smiled, holding up a rose colored blouse at you.

Looking down you saw small daisies printed on the shirt as well. It was cute, you had to give him that. You agreed to try it on, but only if he promised not to show you the price tag. Jimin nodded quickly.

Jungkook came around the corner, carrying a couple different articles of clothing. Mainly dresses, as they would be a comfortable and easy choice. But there were some skirts and blouses in his arms too. After finding the ones you liked the three of you were sent to the dressing rooms.

Jimin and Jungkook waited outside on the bench, demanding a fashion show from you. You rolled your eyes, but didn’t say no before you headed in and tried on a couple of outfits.

You walked out and did a little spin every time, Jungkook and Jimin giving their opinions. Which were always small claps with whistles accompanying them.

Then you walked out in a shorter green sundress that you had managed to grab on the shelf without looking at the tag, thank God. It was green with splashes of turquoise and white that made your eyes pop beautifully. There was a cutout at the top that showed a little bit of cleavage but it wasn’t an insane amount. Nothing you thought anything of anyways.

It came to your knees, and it was generous with the room in it. No doubt when you were showing it would come up to your mid thigh. Fluffing your hair you walked out and smiled at the boys. Jungkook’s eyes trailed down your body. This was the first non maxi dress you’d tried on, even the skirts had been considerably modest. So, they were getting the first glimpse at your skin.

Jimin was stunned.

You were absolutely gorgeous. A vision.

Legs looking gorgeous and long, skirt fluttering around your knees but Jimin couldn’t help imagine you when you were showing a little more. Would it ride up higher? Clearing his throat he smiles at you.

“It looks really good, Y/N, I didn’t pick this one. Did you Kook?” Jimin said, turning to his boyfriend, who seemed to still be in a stupor.

“Jungkook?” You said, looking at the doe eyed man with a little bit of worry pinching your features.

“Yes? No, it-you look amazing Y/N, did you pick this out?” He asked you.

“I did, yeah,” you answered.

“Little sneak, do you really want to stop our hearts?” Jimin teased.

Blushing you brushed your hair behind your ear and stared at your shoes. Jungkook looked at you with so much longing it made Jimin’s heart stammer. Not out of jealousy, but something else. Jimin shook the thought from his head.

Soon you were all settled back in the car, several shopping bags in the back. Jimin and Jungkook had requested a driver today, wanting to just enjoy the experience. So, the driver dutifully drove while the three of you sat in the back.

You looked out the window and watched scenery pass you by. Jimin and Jungkook looked at you, each with a similar look on their face and similar feelings in their chest. But neither of them were brave enough to admit it to themselves. Not when they almost had everything they’ve ever wanted, or what they thought they wanted...

Getting out of the car, Jimin asked the driver to have the bags delivered up to their apartment. The driver nodded before disappearing.

The three of you made your way up to the apartment, but not before Jimin and Jungkook spilled that they had a surprise for you. Looking at them with a menacing glare, Jungkook broke first as you three made it into the entryway of the apartment.

“It’s nothing crazy, just... We didn’t want you feeling like the third wheel or, you know, not a part of this. You are just as important to us as the baby you are carrying, and while you’re with us we want you happy and... so we got you this,” Jungkook said, holding out the signature blue box that made your stomach churn with how much it must’ve cost.

“Please, don’t ask how much it cost. It doesn’t matter as long as it makes you happy,” Jimin whispered.

Slowly, you opened the box and a beautiful moon pendant sparkling in diamonds and white gold stared at you. You damn near dropped the thing because of how gorgeous it was. Jungkook and Jimin froze on the spot when they saw tears starting to fall down your face.

“Do you not like it?” Jimin asked.

“Is it too much? Did we go overboard?” Jungkook worried.

“N-No, it’s beautiful,” you said, touching the pendant with a delicate finger.

“Do you want to put it on?” Jungkook asked, hoping to God that you didn’t throw this pendant back in their faces.

“Yes, please,” you said, handing Jungkook the back and brushing your hair out of the way so he had access.

Slowly, you watched as the beautiful moon swung just above your cleavage, kissing your chest lightly. It was fastened behind your neck and you turned around, looking at the two men with a bright smile on your face.

Then, they held up their wrists.

A sun and a star.

You looked and saw it was all a matching set.

“You guys, you really,” you said, smiling softly.

“Honestly, Y/N, you’re our equal in this. You aren’t just a womb we’re renting,” Jimin said. “You’re a person, with wants and feelings and we want you to feel that. More than anything, we want you happy and safe.”

“We’re so thrilled you chose us, seriously. If there’s anything you want, anything you need, name it, we’ll get it for you. Scouts honor,” Jungkook said, holding up his hand.

Feeling an overwhelming sense of emotion, more tears ran down your cheeks, making you sniffle and wipe at them with irritation. You didn’t want to cry right now, you were happy! Now, you just looked like a snotty red mess.

“Aw, don’t cry Y/N!” Jungkook said, coming forward to wipe your tears.

“God you guys are such turds, making me cry all the time,” you sniffled.

“It’s not our fault!” Jimin said.

“It is very much your fault,” you said, holding your stomach gently.

A rush of air left the two of them at you doing something so maternal. It made Jungkook’s blood burst into flames, and Jimin had to swallow a moan at the knowledge of you being pregnant with his baby. You cocked your head to the side and looked at the two silent men.

“Okay, well... Thanks for today you two... I’m glad I got to be spoiled a little bit. I’m gonna go take a shower, are we ordering out for dinner tonight?” You asked. They were still silent and you wondered what the fuck broke them when Jimin blinked rapidly a few times before clearing his throat.

“Y-You’re welcome, if you want to go again just tell us and we can,” he said, fighting to keep his calm exterior.

“Okay, I’m gonna go take a shower then,” you said again, taking off towards the stairs.

Jungkook damn near collapsed on the floor when you were finally gone.

“Jesus,” he said, panting hard.

“Do you, do you feel it too?” Jimin asked, gazing at the area where you had been standing.

“Yeah,” Jungkook croaked.

“Fuck what’s wrong with us? She’s here for us to care for her, to nurture her, not use her like some object,” Jimin said, running his hands through his hair in frustration.

Jungkook rubbed his shoulders, trying to soothe his boyfriend’s frantic thoughts. He agreed. You weren’t someone for them to use and abuse... You were the mother of their child and you deserved to be respected. But God if the thought of you didn’t send their minds spiraling.

“I know... We just gotta tough it out I guess. What else can we do?” Jungkook reasoned.

“I don’t know Kook, I don’t know,” Jimin said, gripping his boyfriend’s hand tightly.

—

The six week mark came and so did the morning sickness. To start, it was just waves of nausea, but soon it turned into full blown vomiting.

It was around seven in the morning and you had barely slept a wink. You felt jittery and restless, unable to relax. But when you sat up to head to the kitchen for something to eat, your stomach flipped. Soon, you were in the bathroom getting sick in the toilet.

Shortly you heard a knocking at the door.

“Y/N? Sweetie are you alright?” Jimin’s worried voice echoed through the door.

“Yeah,” you wheezed, trying to keep yourself from hurling again.

“Can I come in?” His light tone echoed through the room.

“Yeah,” you said, feeling another rush of nausea washing over you as he comes in. You looked and saw his worried face come into focus.

“Oh sweetheart,” Jimin said, rubbing your back as you got sick once more.

“Jimin? Y/N?” Jungkook’s voice echoed in the apartment.

“We’re in the bathroom Kook!” Jimin yelled.

Shortly Jungkook’s footsteps came into the bathroom. He was frowning, knowing you must be uncomfortable and there wasn’t much he could do for you. Watching Jimin rub your back gave him a sense of comfort however.

You were struggling with your chest being tender also. Every time you moved against the toilet you felt a jolt of pain go down your spine. Wincing when you came back up, Jimin had gotten you a little cup of water. You swished the cool liquid around before spitting it out and standing up slowly, per Jimin’s instructions.

You brushed your teeth and told the boys you were alright. They left and you did the rest of your morning routine. Jimin came back into your room and asked if you were ready for breakfast. You nodded and let Jimin lead you to the kitchen table. Jimin, taking note of your poor start to the day, asked if you wanted anything in particular for breakfast. Thinking back you really enjoyed the Nutella and banana toast he made for you a while back.

He nodded and started the toaster quickly. Jungkook had been working overtime recently and had to leave shortly after your bathroom incident. Soon, two pieces of Nutella toast with bananas were placed in front of you.

But the second the smell of banana hit your nose, you were scrunching up your face in disgust. Jimin looked at you with confusion. Then it dawned on him: food sensitivity.

Quickly removing the plate he asked if anything else sounded good, and you came up with the weird combination that was scrambled eggs with cream cheese.

Jimin looked on with a light smile on his face as you scarfed down the eggs and cream cheese without a single nose scrunch. It always made him happy to see you eating. Keeping up your health for the sake of the baby and you made him happy.

Soon, you were done and Jimin had gone into the living room to watch some TV when you noticed him sitting there. Lounging on the couch was a normal thing, but, looking at him now you-you couldn’t put your finger on it. He just looked so good, sitting there. He’d recently redid his hair so it was a beautiful blond color. His eyes wandered from the television to you, standing there in your loose t-shirt and pajama shorts.

He licked his lips for a moment, but that was all it took for you.

The flash of his tongue made you slightly weak in the knees, causing you to grip the edge of the table for support. Jimin seemed to mistake this for a more serious problem as he was up in a matter of seconds to come to your side.

“Y/N? What’s the matter?” He asked, looking at you with concern.

“I-I’m good,” you said, giving him a thumbs up. “I think I just ate too fast.”

Jimin mulled this over in his head for a moment before nodding and stepping back.

“As long as you’re okay,” he said, heading back towards the couch.

But your symptoms weren’t just limited to food sensitivity, morning sickness and random bouts of arousal, oh no... The best one was the nightmares that had taken over your sleep schedule.

Normally they were just vague things that you forgot about when you woke up. But they were becoming more vivid. More, unsettling.

You were dreaming being in pools of blood, sometimes it was yours, sometimes it belonged to the boys. Sometimes you didn’t know where it came from, but it was always there. Never to be washed away, only to drown in...

You were caught up in the throes of a particularly bad nightmare...

You’d miscarried and lost the baby, Jimin and Jungkook were heartbroken and left you bleeding out on the floor as you stared up into the ceiling, dying.

The room was tilted and everything was wobbly.

You tried to go after them, to ask for another chance. But it was too late, they were gone.

Screaming, you bolted up in your bed. Tears flowing down your cheeks at a rapid rate. Your heart was hammering in your chest so loud you swore you could feel it in your throat.

You heard the slamming of a door and soon Jimin and Jungkook barged into your room, looking around frantically until they found you on your bed, shaking and crying into your hands.

“Y/N!” They yelled, going to your sides and trying to get you to talk to them.

“Sweetie, what happened? Why did you scream?” Jimin asked, petting your hair trying to soothe you.

“I-I had a nightmare, I-I lost the baby and, then lost you two,” you whimpered, covering your face again.

Jungkook swallowed thickly, the image of you crying being burned into his memory. He hated seeing you like this. It hurt him to see you so distraught. Jimin, too, was struggling with your emotions. He just wanted you happy and healthy, free from any worry and troubles of the real world. But of course, he couldn’t protect you from everything and everyone. No matter how much he wanted to.

“Y/N, it’s okay. We’re right here, we aren’t going anywhere,” said Jungkook. You were crying violently, looking at the bed spread with blurred vision. Jimin looked at Jungkook with worry written all over his features, your smaller frame sat shaking in the bed as the two males tried to comfort you.

Jungkook hesitantly reached out to wipe the tears from your face. You looked up at the man with puffy cheeks and swollen eyes, before glancing back down at your lap.

“You aren’t going to lose us, Y/N,” Jimin reassured.

“I’m scared,” you whispered, so broken that it had both of their eyes tearing up at the sound.

“It’s alright, we’re scared too,” Jimin said, patting your hair gently. “But we’ll get through this.”

“There was so much blood,” you whimpered, biting your lip trying to keep the sobs from coming out.

“Y/N,” Jungkook said, feeling his eyes burning with unshed tears of his own.

“I was dying and you just... left me there,” you confessed.

“We could never leave you just like that Y/N, ever,” Jimin said, sounding shocked.

“We’d never forgive ourselves if something happened to you,” Jungkook whispered.

Jimin grabbed his hand, rubbing his fingers over the knuckles. He knew seeing you like this was hard on both of them, and knowing how much you truly didn’t think they cared was also hurtful. Because all they wanted was to tell you you didn’t have to leave... But it couldn’t work like that.

Jimin’s work as a high end therapist was already wobbly because of his relationship with Jungkook. As unfortunate as it is, people didn’t want his help if he was dating a fellow man.

And Jungkook had already been shamed for his love publicly, the gossip forums on the newspaper and websites having a hay day with his image. He’d worked so hard to show he wasn’t any different than a straight man when it came to his work. But, the world is a cruel place, and social norms often reared their ugly heads with Jungkook.

They couldn’t drag you into that cesspool of nasty comments and uncomfortable encounters. It was a harsh reality, but it was the one you were all living in. And there wasn’t anything they could do about it.

Jungkook wanted to scream about how it was unfair. How you sitting here with them wasn’t wrong, as long as you all cared about one another, how could it be? But they both knew how this would end.

With you walking out of their lives and your child’s life, forever.

“I’m sorry for waking you up,” you hiccuped, swallowing down the rest of your tears.

“No, don’t be sorry,” Jimin said, rubbing your shoulder.

“If something’s wrong we want you to tell us,” Jungkook said, looking at you with misty eyes.

“I-I will,” you said, wiping your face.

“Are you going to be able to go back to sleep?” Jimin asked, looking at your state with concern.

“I should be able to,” you said, trying to convince yourself of the same thing.

“We can stay with you, until you’re asleep,” Jungkook offered before even thinking. Jimin’s head snapped to the younger male, who was already shrinking.

“W-Would you?” Your soft voice spoke up.

Jimin nodded finally, crawling into the bed with you and Jungkook following suit. They each took a hand and held it tightly. Jimin drew different shapes and patterns on your palm, making you giggle when it tickled. Jungkook interlocked your fingers together, running his thumb over your soft skin like Jimin did with him when he was nervous or scared.

Sooner, rather than later, you were passed out once more, hands clutching Jimin and Jungkook’s.

The men managed to untangle themselves from you as they went back to their room, hearts heavy. When the door shut, Jungkook burst into tears.

“Oh my sweet boy, don’t cry,” Jimin said, wiping his boyfriend’s cheeks carefully.

“Jimin,” he said, forehead resting on the older man’s shoulder.

“I know, it hurts me too,” Jimin whispered.

“I just want her to know that she’s not just a convenience, she’s so much more than that,” Jungkook whimpered.

“Yeah,” Jimin said, thinking of your body curled up on the couch with a good book and a warm drink next to you. Your smile when your favorite song comes on in the car. The way you’re already so protective over the baby.

“I don’t know if it’s because she’s carrying our baby or what, but, I want to be closer to her. I want to know everything about her... God I don’t know what to do with myself Jimin,” Jungkook complained, wiping at his tears in frustration.

“We just gotta keep it in our mind that she had a life before this, and she’ll have a life after it too. S-She’s doing this because we’re paying her Jungkook. Of course that isn’t the only reason but, it is the main one,” Jimin reminded his boyfriend, and himself.

Even though the words felt hollow in the air.

“I guess,” Jungkook said.

“You’ve got work early, we need to go back to bed,” Jimin said, motioning for Jungkook to get into bed as well. The two men cuddled up to each other, each feeling like something, or someone, was missing...

--

Faster than you thought possible, the ten week mark had come.

It was time to get your first ultrasound of the pregnancy.

The boys were over the moon about the whole thing. Excitedly chatting in the car.

“I hope we can see the baby well,” Jungkook said, driving carefully through the street.

Jimin hummed in agreement. “Me too, the baby is still super small right now. About the size of a prune but, we’ll still be able to see them on the screen. And, we can hear their heartbeat!”

You smiled at their excitement. Bringing your fingers up you brushed the pendant they gave you, a nervous habit you’d picked up shortly after their gifting it to you. Jungkook looked at you in the rearview, playing with the sparkling jewelry piece. It made his chest feel tight, looking at you. Jimin placed a hand on his, making Jungkook focus on him for a moment.

Jimin shook his head and Jungkook swallowed thickly, knowing exactly what he meant.

Soon, you were all at the clinic.

Jimin helped you out of the backseat, getting your bag and whatnot so you didn’t have to fuss with it. Jungkook placed a protective hand on your lower back, guiding you into the building.

You felt your heart flutter in your chest at the action, having to cover up your blushing with a cough. Jimin urged you to sit down while he got the paperwork, something you didn’t fight him on. You were exhausted as of late.

The boys reassured you it was normal to be tired. You knew, however, that you were a little more tired than normal. Briefly you wondered if it was because it was your first time and you’d never felt something like this. However, that didn’t sit right. You knew there was something going on, but you didn’t want to worry the boys. Especially since you were getting an ultrasound today.

Sitting next to Jungkook in the waiting room, he made small talk. Asking how you were feeling and if the morning sickness had gotten any better.

“It’s gotten worse,” you complained, leaning your head back in the seat.

“Really? Maybe we can ask the doctor to prescribe something for you,” he said.

“It should be going away soon, I’ll be alright,” you reassured, patting his knee.

“Sometimes it doesn’t go away until the baby is born, I just don’t want you to suffer if we can do something about it,” Jungkook said softly.

“If it gets too bad, I’ll say something. Okay?” You said, keeping a gentle smile on your face.

“Yeah, okay,” he agreed.

Jimin came back and took Jungkook’s hand, intertwining their fingers together. Jimin had a habit of tracing the tattoos on Jungkook’s hands when he was nervous, it made you smile.

Eventually a nurse called your name and led you back to the ultrasound room. Jungkook smiled and sat down in the chair provided. Jimin helped you up onto the table and the ultrasound tech went over what they would be looking for and opened it up for questions.

When no one had any, she proceeded.

“Okay, I just need you to pull the front of your pants down a little bit,” the tech asked, prepping the machine.

You immediately turned and looked at Jungkook and Jimin, then down at your stomach. It wasn’t a big deal, it was just a little bit anyways.

Without much more thought you pulled your pants so just the top of your panties were showing. Jungkook’s eyes widened at your actions, but he tried to keep a calm exterior. Jimin kept his eyes trained on the screen, not wanting you to feel uncomfortable.

The ultrasound gel was cold, making you jump when it came in contact with your skin. But soon it was warming to your skin and you all looked at the screen with rapt attention.

“Alright so we should see the head and curvature of the body, but other than that this is just to make sure that everything is looking good in the uterus and to see if there are any abnormalities with the baby-oh! Babies it appears,” the tech said, a big smile on her face.

“What?” Jimin said.

“There’s another head there, if you look right here,” she pointed at the screen. “Looks like you’ve got a set of twins in there!”

Jungkook’s eyes teared up, looking down at your stomach with his heart in his throat.

You were stunned.

Twins?

The first try?

Wow, you really did win the lottery.

“Oh my God,” Jimin said, hiding his face in Jungkook’s shoulder.

“Way to go, got those twins first try,” you said, trying to keep your nerves under control.

“It’s all thanks to you Y/N, we couldn’t do it without you,” Jungkook reminded.

“Are you guys going to want the pictures?” The tech asked. Jimin and Jungkook of course said yes.

“Wow, look at their heads babe!” Jimin yelped as you all walked out of the clinic together. Jimin was still cooing over the pictures of the twins from the ultrasound.

“I need to put it in my wallet,” he said, bringing out the accessory shortly after.

You smiled at their excitement. You were beyond happy, you’d done it. Gave them the twins they desperately wanted. First try too. You knew that meant a few more complications, but, you didn’t want that to hold too much weight over you.

“We should call Namjoon and Jin! Tell them the news about the twins!”

You nodded quickly, wanting to tell your friends the update.

Namjoon and Jin were thrilled, obviously. Insisting that they’ll give Annie to Jin’s parents for the night so you could all get together and have a meal. Agreeing, the boys set it up for around seven thirty.

“Dress nice! I also expect to see those ultrasound pictures!” Jin said through the phone.

You snorted and shook your head, gently touching your stomach. You felt a fluttering in your chest, like you were standing on the edge of a tall building or something. It made you gasp lightly, moving your hand away from your belly to your chest. Jimin seemed to notice your movement because he was turning around in his seat.

“Everything alright there?” He asked, looking at you with his beautiful brown eyes.

“Y-yeah, I’m good. We’re-good,” you said, pointing to your tummy. Jimin’s eyes lit up at the mention of the babies.

“Okay, tell me if you need anything,” he said, turning around and facing the front once more.

You all walked back into the apartment, Jungkook still gushing about everything. You simply smiled and went to go get ready for dinner.

Jin did say to look nice, so you picked out a few things from your shopping excursion a while back. Putting on a dress that looked skin tight but it was super stretchy, so no doubt you could wear it late into the pregnancy. The zipper on the back would be an issue but, it made you feel a little sexy. You hadn’t really done a lot in regards to your appearance around the boys, you didn’t see the need.

But, it wouldn’t hurt to do your hair and dress nicely...

You had the perfect shoes to pair with the dress. You grabbed some stockings and a few other small pieces of jewelry, placing them on the bed while you assembled everything together the way you wanted it.

Eventually, you were all set.

Except for the zipper on the back.

You didn’t understand why there was a zipper on such a stretchy dress, but fashion has its ways you guess. Reaching behind you proved unsuccessful. Quickly growing frustrated, you did the following without thinking.

“Jimin? Jungkook? Can one of you come here for a second please?”

Once the words were out, you immediately wished you could eat them.

But the damage had been done.

Both men walked in your room.

Jimin’s jaw dropped open, looking at you in awe.

You were in knee high stockings, low heels and a slinky black dress that hugged your body so perfectly it made him want to drop to his knees. Jungkook fared no better. Seeing your hair styled and a little bit of makeup on your features really enhanced your natural beauty. They both were staring, making you shrink in embarrassment.

“O-Okay, you can blink any time now,” you said, chuckling to ease the tension in the room.

“You look... wow,” Jimin breathed.

“Incredible. You look incredible,” Jungkook said, eyes trailing down your legs.

“Thank you, but, um... Could one of you please come zip me up? I can’t reach the zipper,” you said, turning your back to them fully.

Jungkook stared at his boyfriend with an almost agonized look on his face. Jimin nodded and walked forward, brushing your hair out of the way. Placing a gentle hand on your hip Jimin pulled the zipper up to the top, covering each inch of your beautiful skin.

Jungkook swallowed his noise of protest, trying to remember what Jimin had said. You weren’t an object for them to use, you were their surrogate. The woman who would be birthing their twins. And then leaving...

Jimin knew if Jungkook had walked forward to zip up your dress he wouldn’t be able to keep it together. Jimin wasn’t doing that hot either to be honest. Your hips flared out. Looking so beautiful hugged in the dress, and the warmth of your skin beneath his fingertips was... alarming.

“Thank you,” you said, turning around with a smile on your face.

Jimin couldn’t help but mirror your grin.

“Absolutely, are you ready to go now?” He asked, trying to keep from getting distracted any more.

“Yeah, let’s go! I want Jin to feed me so much I burst,” you said, heading towards the door. Once you were gone, Jungkook looked at Jimin.

“This is only getting harder,” Jungkook said, biting his lip.

“Are you going to be alright?” Jimin questioned, placing his hand on Jungkook’s shoulder.

“Yeah, just... This feels wrong,” Jungkook whispered.

“What feels wrong?” Jimin asked.

“Keeping her at arm's length, I just feel awkward. Pushing her away when she’s doing something so big for us, it’s really emotionally charged and... I feel like a jerk for treating her like just another person. Like she isn’t special,” Jungkook explained, brushing his hair out of his face.

“I understand,” Jimin said, trying to smooth the frown lines from Jungkook’s face.

“Boys? Are you coming?” Your voice echoed through the house.

“Coming!” Jimin said. “We’ll talk about this later, okay? We’ll figure this out.”

—

The dinner at Jin and Namjoon’s was beyond anything you’d expected.

There was so much food and honestly, you ate a lot. Lying back in your chair, tilting your head back you sighed. Rubbing your stomach unconsciously. But the boys noticed everything. Especially how amazing you looked in that outfit.

It was just about all they could do to keep their hands off of you. Jungkook was fidgeting the whole night, being the one who sat next to you. He really tried to keep his cool, but a man could only take so much.

“So, Y/N, how does it feel to be pregnant with twins?” Namjoon asked, taking a small bite of rice.

“Honestly? It’s not been a cake walk, let me tell you. My mood swings are everywhere, my chest is killing me, food is either a hit or miss and don’t get me started on how arou-ahem,” you froze at your brazen attitude. Jimin and Jungkook’s heads snapped at your statement, looking at you with masked emotions. “Sorry, got carried away. Anyways, it’s been wild. But, I’m really glad to be doing it, you know? The boys take good care of me,” you praised, smiling at the two of them now.

Namjoon noticed it first.

The twinkle in Jungkook’s eyes at your words. How genuinely happy he seemed listening to you talk. Jimin’s body language was always engaged with you, never closing off or making it appear like he wasn’t interested.

Namjoon’s eyes widened.

This would need to be discussed...

Soon, everyone was sitting in the living room, just digesting. When you got up and said you had to use the restroom.

When the men were alone, Namjoon attacked.

“What are you guys doing?” He asked, looking at the two younger men with worry in his features.

“What do you mean?” Jimin quizzed right back.

“Listen, I’ve been friends with Y/N for a long time. I really care about her and want only the best for her. I also want you guys to be happy and healthy and have your own family, so please don’t take what I’m about to say personally but-what the fuck?” He asked.

“What do you mean what the fuck?” Jungkook asked.

“Why are you looking at her like that?” Namjoon asked, feeling his frustration rise.

“Like what?!” Jimin argued.

“Like you-Like you, are all, like... a couple?” Namjoon said, feeling the awkward tension rising in the room.

“What?” Jungkook coughed.

“We aren’t together,” Jimin said slowly.

“But do you want to be?” Namjoon asked.

Jungkook broke first.

“I don’t know,” he whispered, placing his head in his hands. Jimin was quick to comfort the younger male, rubbing his back in big, soothing circles.

“It’s a new experience for us. We just want her to be happy and healthy and safe. You know, take care of her,” Jimin explained, skirting around the question.

“Of course, but, there’s a difference between appreciation and affection,” Jin said, speaking up.

“Y-Yeah, we know that,” Jimin answered. “I’m a therapist, I know what emotions are.”

Namjoon rolled his eyes.

“If you know what emotions are then why are you denying your own?” he asked.

“I’m not!”

“Bullshit,” Namjoon challenged.

“This is fucking ridiculous,” Jimin growled.

“What’s all the angry whispering out here for?” You asked, walking back into the room. The energy snapped within an instant.

“It’s alright, just a heated debate about politics,” Namjoon joked, giving you a tender smile.

“Oookay?” You said, coming back in to sit down next to Jungkook, who was trying his best to not squirm when your thigh brushed his.

The rest of the night moved rather calmly, but not without a fierce monopoly game that almost caused a few table flips. Jungkook wound up losing and threw a mini tantrum. But it was quickly smoothed over when you promised you’d bake him some cookies the next time he had a day off.

While Namjoon and Jin were cleaning up, Jungkook and Jimin discovered your sleeping frame on the couch once more. Breaths coming in even and slow, they smiled at you. Your lips were pouting lightly, something they’d discovered was a habit when you were sleeping.

And Jungkook adored it.

He came over to your side and tried to wake you up, but when you whined and fussed he decided it would just be easier to carry you to the car. Carefully, the strong young man lifted you into his arms and towards the door. Jimin got the rest of your things all together and they thanked Jin and Namjoon for the meal and night.

But before they left, Namjoon grabbed Jimin by the shoulder. Jungkook waited, looking back in worry. Jimin waved him on, saying he’d be there in a minute. Jungkook nodded before heading out the door.

“What?” Jimin asked.

“I’m sorry about earlier, I overstepped. I didn’t mean to offend you or Jungkook. It’s just, Y/N is very inexperienced when it comes to love and emotions and having that connection. I’m worried about what’s happening to her. I don’t want her to get her hopes up and be crushed later on,” he explained.

Jimin nodded his head.

“I accept your apology. I didn’t mean to fly off the handle either, Jungkook and I have been... Discussing it. But it’s not an easy thing to come to terms with, we aren’t sure what we feel for her... We know we care about her, but is it because she’s our surrogate and we want to care for her? Or is it something deeper? We don’t know,” Jimin sighed, running his fingers through his hair.

“Y/N is so special. She gives without thinking, she is so dedicated to those she cares about... she’d give the shirt off her back to someone she didn’t even know. It’s hard not to love her, but... she doesn’t deserve to be pulled in a million different directions either. But you all deserve to be happy, I’m always here if you need to talk,” Namjoon offered.

Jimin smiled lightly. “That’s normally my line.”

“You guys are good people, I wouldn’t have recommended Y/N do this if I didn’t trust you. But, just... please don’t take advantage of her heart. And don’t lie to yourselves either.”

Jimin nodded, looking down at the floor with a resolute nod.

“Thanks, both of you,” Jimin said, giving a small wave before heading out towards the car. Jungkook already had you buckled and settled in.

“What was that about?” Jungkook asked, getting into the front seat.

“He wanted to apologize for earlier, he felt like he overstepped. And, he wanted to explain why he was so defensive over Y/N,” Jimin said.

Jungkook nodded and started the car, taking off down the road.

“Why is he so protective? Did they like, date in the past or something?” Jungkook asked. Jimin shook his head.

“N-No, Y/N hasn’t ever had a boyfriend or girlfriend,” Jimin said, resting his head in his hand.

“What? Really?” Jungkook balked. Trying to think of how someone like you hadn’t ever been snatched up before. You were a total catch! But, you did tend to keep to yourself.

“Yeah, she told me about it the day she had her IUI done,” Jimin explained.

“Oh, so-wait. She’s having a baby when she’s never, like, had sex?” Jungkook said. “Is that safe?”

“I mean I’m sure it’s safe but, she’s not... Um, she told me she’s had sex before,” Jimin said.

“Wow, how did this all come up?” Jungkook asked.

“Well, she mentioned something about wanting someone who looked at her the way we look at each other,” Jimin blushed.

“She’s so cute,” Jungkook groaned. “Well, at least she’s been with someone before. You know, had that kind of pleasure.”

Jimin coughed, rubbing his neck. Jungkook looked at him weirdly.

“What?”

“She may have off-handedly mentioned that she’s never, uh... You know, finished,” Jimin flushed. Jungkook looked floored at the information.

“You mean to tell me, that some jerk took her virginity and didn’t fucking make it special? What a fucking tool bag,” Jungkook growled.

“I don’t know the story, she didn’t divulge that kind of information. I was the one who guessed she’s never finished, and she was pretty embarrassed about it all to be honest,” Jimin said.

“That is so frustrating,” Jungkook said.

“Yeah.”

The car was quiet, save for your soft little snores coming from the back seat.

“Did you hear what she said during dinner?” Jimin asked. “When she was talking about her pregnancy symptoms.”

“Yeah...” Jungkook trailed off.

“I wish we could do something for her, I feel so bad,” Jimin whispered.

“We can be there to support her but we can’t over step either,” Jungkook said.

“I know, normally I’m the one reminding you of that,” Jimin huffed.

“I understand it’s not easy for either of us,” Jungkook said softly.

“Maybe we just need a god romp in the sheets to get it out of our system hmm?” Jimin teased, running a hand up Jungkook’s thigh. Jungkook couldn’t help the hiss that came out of his mouth at the touch. They hadn’t really been active in that way since you’d come into the house.

“Y-You know how loud I get,” Jungkook said, swallowing hard.

“Oh I’m very aware how loud I can make you scream,” Jimin winked.

“Stop, I’m already hard,” Jungkook whined.

“I bet you are baby,” Jimin said, squeezing his boyfriend’s thigh tight.

“Stop, please,” Jungkook whined.

“Mmm,” Jimin said, not sensing that Jungkook really wanted him to stop. “And what if I keep going baby? What if I snuck my hand into your pants and tugged your pathetic little cock until you came huh? Make you come all over your expensive pants and make you lick it up?”

“Jimin,” Jungkook said, cock straining against his pants.

“Yes baby? What does my baby want, huh?” Jimin asked, so sweet... Almost dangerous.

“I-I want-”

“Mmm, are we home yet?” You voice perked up from the back seat.

“Y/N?” Jimin asked, turning to look at you. Your eyes were bleary from sleep and it was obvious you must’ve just woken up. Jungkook adjusted himself in the seat, trying to hide his throbbing erection from your sight.

“Yeah?” You said, blinking slow.

“Sweetie,” Jimin cooed, brushing a few strands of your hair back from your face, even though it was an awkward angle for him.

“Jungkook are you okay?” You asked, noticing how tense the young man’s posture was.

“I-I’m good,” he said, trying to hide his arousal.

“Okay,” you said, laying your head back down.

Jungkook pulled the car into the front slot of the building, handing the keys over to the valet. The two of them brought you out of the car and Jimin decided it was his turn to carry you up to the apartment. So, the three of you all made it to the apartment in silence.

You were awake, but you weren’t feeling too terribly chatty. Sleep still at the forefront of your mind. Jungkook and Jimin hadn’t spoken since you got out of the car, and you can’t help but feel like you were in the middle of something kinda intense. The charged feeling in the room making you shift against Jimin’s chest.

He looked down at you, trying to keep himself from jostling you too much. You were exhausted. But soon, you felt bile rising in your throat...

“Jimin put me down,” you said, holding your hand to the mouth. Just as he set you down you scrambled to the bathroom and threw up the massive dinner you’d eaten. Jimin and Jungkook were rushing right after you. Jungkook brought your hair away from your face. Jimin sat down next to him to rub your back.

You got to the point where you were just dry heaving into the toilet, but it didn’t seem to end.

“Oh fuck,” you croaked, coughing hard.

“You want some water?” Jimin asked.

“No, I’m scared I’ll just throw that up too,” you whined.

“It might be better than just dry heaving,” Jimin said.

“You got a point,” you huffed, trying to keep your head from spinning.

“I’ll get you some,” he said, moving off the floor to head towards the kitchen. Jungkook shuffled forward, kind of molding his front to your back. When you pushed a little too hard against him you felt it. Wondering what it could be for a moment you pushed back against him again, when he groaned in surprise.

“U-Um, Jungkook?” You squeaked.

“S-Sorry!” He said, moving away faster than the speed of light.

“I-It’s okay, just, you know,” you flushed.

“It’s not because of you! It’s not uh, I wasn’t um,” he stuttered.

“I-I didn’t think it was?” You said, more of a question.

“It’s not that you’re not pretty or anything it’s-”

“No, I get it,” you said, smiling weakly.

“Y/N-”

“Here’s your water,” Jimin said, bringing in a glass for you to drink.

You sipped it slowly. Not paying attention. Jungkook looked like he was going to die in the corner, which made Jimin shoot him a weird look. He just shook his head as he covered his face. Jimin made a mental note to question him about it later, but his concern was on you right now.

“Have you been getting sick a lot?” Jimin asked, placing a soft hand on your shoulder.

“I mean, it’s mainly in the morning. I think I just ate too much at dinner,” you said, pouting lightly.

“Gotcha, do you feel like you’re going to get sick again? Or do you think you’re done?” He asked.

“I-I think I’m good,” you said, putting the empty glass down.

“Are you sure?” Jimin asked, making you look at him.

“Mhmm,” you confirmed, eyes getting droopy again.

“Alright sleepyhead, brush your teeth and go to bed. Need help getting up?” Jimin worried, fussing over you like any father to be would.

You stood up slowly, mindful of your dizzy head. But, when you stood at the sink you felt everything kinda snap into focus. Jimin dragged Jungkook out of the bathroom to let you do your thing, but told you to come get them if you needed anything.

Hurrying into the bedroom, Jimin narrowed his eyes at his boyfriend.

“Why did you look like you’d rather crawl into an overflowing storm drain than be in that bathroom? What happened when I was getting water?”

Jungkook looked up at Jimin could see the embarrassment on his face. Sighing, Jimin sat down, placing his hand on his boyfriend’s back.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have teased you in the car. It’s just, been a while you know? I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable or anything,” Jimin apologized.

“Y/N felt it, my... When you moved me so you could get out of the bathroom to get her the water, she was pushed up against me. And, she pushed back against me and felt my dick against her,” Jungkook said, rubbing her face.

“Oh, that is... uh, awkward,” Jimin agreed.

“It gets worse,” Jungkook said.

“What do you mean?” Jimin asked.

“I-I told her it wasn’t because of her and then I tried to tell her it’s not that she wasn’t pretty and I just threw up a bunch of words that didn’t make sense and then you were back,” Jungkook whimpered.

Jimin sighed. Jungkook had never been a genius with words, but normally he was better than that. He knows that Jungkook is mortified, Jungkook wasn’t good at mingling or recovering from blunders of the social variety. So, Jimin just sighed and gave his boyfriend a gentle kiss.

“It’s okay Jungkook, Y/N isn’t gonna hold this against you,” Jimin soothed.

“I just feel terrible,” Jungkook said softly.

“Why? It was an accident,” Jimin reasoned.

“Because I-I didn’t want her to stop,” he swallowed. Jimin bit his lip and tried to keep his anger from spilling over.

“I don’t know how many times we have to talk about this Jungkook,” Jimin said.

“We were talking about it in the car! But we’ve never talked about what we want, what we’re doing now, it's not sustainable. I’m going crazy!” Jungkook yelled.

“Jungkook keep your voice down!” Jimin reminded.

“Jimin I’m so fucking confused, I don’t know what we’re doing. What I’m doing. I-I do know one thing for certain. I love those kids, so much, and they aren’t even here yet. I love them so much, because they’re ours... But... I can’t keep doing this. Getting closer only to rip myself away, it’s killing me Jimin. If you want me to walk away, I will but, I just can’t keep giving myself hope when there isn’t any,” Jungkook cried, tears falling down his cheeks.

“I-I didn’t know you were so broken up over this,” Jimin whispered.

“I’m so confused,” Jungkook whispered.

“I am too, I love you so much but... I feel this connection to her. I know it’s normal to be grateful, but, I know it’s more than that with her,” Jimin said, moving to give Jungkook a back hug.

“Then we need to make a decision,” Jungkook said.

“You want to pursue her as a part of our couple? Like, make her our girlfriend?” Jimin asked.

“Do you?” Jungkook asked back.

“I mean... I wouldn’t be opposed,” Jimin said softly.

“I don’t want this if you don’t,” Jungkook said, turning to look at Jimin with sparkling eyes.

“I want this... I want her, but, we need to give her some time, as well as ourselves to come to terms with this,” Jimin reasoned.

“Okay,” Jungkook agreed.

“But, when we’re both ready, we can approach her,” Jimin said.

“Would this be healthy to do? I mean, mentally,” Jungkook asked.

“Polygamous couples generally tend to have better communication than the average two person couples. And with one of us being a therapist I think we could manage. I-I want to work towards that,” Jimin confessed.

“I want this too,” Jungkook said excitedly.

“Then that’s what we’ll do...”

You laid in bed late into the night. You heard Jungkook and Jimin having a disagreement. You couldn’t make out the words but, the walls were thin... You prayed to God that it wasn’t about you, or anything related to the children.

Slowly, your hand trailed down to your stomach. You didn’t think you could see a bump yet, but maybe a little something? You weren’t sure, maybe it was just wishful thinking.

You moved slightly, and you felt something in your underwear. Adjusting lightly, you pulled them down to look, and you saw a decent amount of arousal soaking into the cotton fabric. Blushing bright red you reached down to touch your hot center, to find that you were, in fact, dripping wet.

Biting your lip you thought back on the bathroom incident. Jungkook’s firm body pressed against yours, his hardened cock pressed against your ass, the hot groan he let out. Running your fingers over your slit, you gathered your slick and pushed against your clit gently.

Shockwaves of pleasure ripped through you at the sensation.

“Oh!” You gasped, hand coming up to cover your mouth in fear of waking the boys.

You did it again, causing your body to jump slightly, making more of your arousal drip from your center. Licking your lips you thought about what Jungkook’s hands would feel like instead of yours. What his body would feel like pressed up against yours naked... Jimin’s plump lips flashed through your mind for a second, making you wonder what his blond head would look like between-

No!

No no no no no!

Ripping your hand away from your weeping core you turned over and placed your hands on your head.

How could you? Those two weren’t something to fuel your lonely fantasies! They are in love with each other, and are going to have a family... Albeit you had to help with that part but, still. Jimin and Jungkook weren’t yours... They were each other’s...

But as much as you tried to tell yourself that it would never happen...

You couldn’t help but dream of the two men’s hands running over your body...

Hot breaths touching your ears...

Taglist: @kittkat44, @giadalin, @kookachuwu

If you want to be added to the taglist, just shoot me an ask!

[hoedorokishoto]

MHA Characters when you are pregnant/Dads.

Dedicated to my very best friend who is having a hard time at the moment, and I thought some headcannons of dilf my hero characters would cheer her up.

Eijiro Kirishima 

The cryer.

Crys when you are having sex to get pregnant, crys when the test is positive, crys while you are vomiting in the toilet and crys when your jeans stop fitting because of your bump.

Assures you that crying is manly and sticks by that.

Fusses over you as soon as you find out, even putting foam bumpers on tables and corners so you do not hurt yourself or your growing bump.

Is so excited to tell his friends. Calling Bakugo immediately after finding out, the pee was still warm on the stick as he dialed.

Yelled into the phone with just random words that had something to do with babies. No actual sentences.

Watches in awe of your body and how it changes. Loves all the stretch marks that you may grow.

Thinks growing a human is the most amazing thing anyone has ever done. Constantly asking weird anatomy related questions.

On that note says things like, “Babe, can you believe my cum helped make this tiny human growing in your stomach!”

As your due date gets closer, watches you like a hawk. Any slight noise you make, makes him thinks it go time. Already at the door with your bags and your just like “I literally yawned.”

When you do go into labour, he is right there next to you. Holding you close as he sits behind you, holding your legs back, your head rolled back and rested against his shoulder.

“You are doing amazing baby.” “God, I fucking love you.” “You are already the best mum in the whole world.”

Crys as soon as your baby is born, crys with you as he leans his head on your shoulder and watches you and your baby have skin to skin.

You wake up to him holding your only hours old baby. Whispering to them how much he loves them and nothing bad is ever going to happen to them and that they are the best thing he has ever done.

Katsuki Bakugo 

Gloats when you tell him you are pregnant. “Of course you got pregnant the first time, I’m the best.”

Even though he leaves the room with the biggest goofiest smile on his face.

The night you both find out he starts sleeping with his arm around you and his hand firmly cradling your stomach.

Wakes up before you every morning and makes you food, then hold your hair back as you vomit said food into the toilet.

Complains to no end. But never leaves your side and rubs your back as he puts a cold washer on your forehead. Wiping vomit and spit away from your face.

“We have to tell that old hag! She has been bugging us about having a brat since our first date.” He would say even though he is beyond excited to finally tell his parents.

“I’ve never been more excited! I knew you had it in ya!” This leads to dinner being over and the two blonds yelling back and forth.

Masaru just sits next to you and offers you some tea as his wife and son bicker. Both of you used to it by now.

You tell all his friends eventually. “Congratulation Kacchan!” “Shut up Deku, don’t talk too loud around my unborn child. I don’t want them to catch being a loser!” Even though you see the small hug he accepts out of the corner of your eye.  

Keep his phone close to him regardless of what he is doing. Does not want to miss any videos or picture you might send of you bump. Or in case something happens.

Always brings home snacks that you crave. From gummy bears to celery. You name it he buys it. Again he complains and pretends you annoy him but he would do absolutely anything for you.

Wakes you up unintentionally in the middle of the night by spontaneously putting baby furniture together. Pre parental panic finally hitting him as he hammers different pieces of wood together.

“Tsuki? Are you gonna come to bed?”

“I can’t! I’ve got to get this together and then I’ve got to fireproof everything in case the kid gets my quirk and then……”

“Fireproof? You think it’s just gonna blast its way out of me and already have a quirk?” You laughed.

He smiles, finally calming down. Then gets mad again and says not to make fun of him.

Your due date finally comes and still nothing. Even after eating multiple pineapples, bouncing on many exercise balls and having as much sex as you could manage there was still no baby.

10 days later your water breaks and you rush to the hospital.

The baby getting stuck on the way down. Being as stubborn as their father.

You had to be rushed for a C-section. Katsuki never leaving your side. Refusing to go anywhere even as they prepped you.

He looks very good in scrubs. 

He stroked your face as he sat next to your head, the large curtain covering anything too gory from both of you.

Flinches when he hears the first cry, looks into your eyes and presses his forehead against yours.

“You did it Teddy bear. You are so fucking tough.”

Let’s a tear slip as he watches the baby get weighted.

Cuts the cord and watched the tiny little human you have made in awe.

He always though he was born to be a hero. Now he thinks he was put here to do this, be the best dad that he can be for his little brat.  

Shota Aizawa 

Being a dad falls into his lap accidently both times.

First with Eri and second with your 2-year-old daughter.

You met in the girl’s section of a clothing store, him holding up 2 equally as ugly sweaters and looking very confused.

You and your daughter walked up to him and offered him a hand and the rest is history.

Doesn’t know how he got so lucky to have 3 girls that he adores more than anyone else.

Can’t comprehend that anyone would want to treat you or your daughter badly and makes it his mission to treat you right every single day, so you forget all about the past.

Activates his quirk, his hair floating around his face and watches your daughter yell and laugh as she runs around and gets caught up in his capture scarf, Shota just catching her before she hits the floor.

Let’s both the girl’s braid and put bows in his long hair and blush on his cheeks.

You have photos but have been threatened that if anyone sees them, he will have to take drastic action.

Loves watching Eri and your daughter play together. Singing songs and hugging each other as you dance around the living room.

Takes the girls to U.A. to meet his students. All the students cooing over them, saying how cute they are. Midoriya making both of them candy apples as Mirio picks you both up and puts you on his shoulders.

You both fit it. It’s like you were the missing piece and now he is whole.

Starts to think that maybe it’s a good time to give the girls a sibling.

You agree but, in the meantime, you adopt 2 cats, both of them making themselves at home rather quickly.

Shota will forever be thankful that he picked up those 2 ugly sweaters as he looks at his bed which is currently occupied by his 2 daughters, 2 cats and you. Lightly snoring, small hand over your swollen stomach.

[elianamarie-blog]

The Things You Give Pt 14

Steven Hyde x Read

Happy Holidays and New Years everyone! I can’t believe we’re already 14 parts in. I’m so glad you guys are loving the story! Tag list is open if you want to be a part of it :)

Beep, beep, beep.

           The sound of the heart monitor was the only noise resourcing from the room. Hyde sat beside y/n, watching as her chest gently rose and fell, and listened to Red interrogate Eric from the hallway.

           “What do you mean you don’t know what happened?!” Red asked him in his usual gruff tone.

           “I don’t, Dad!” Eric defended. “All I saw is that she was sick and she was trying to get Fez and Hyde to stop fighting and she just dropped!”

           “And you didn’t catch her?” Red fumed. “She could’ve gotten hurt!”

           “Well, I didn’t expect her to fall!” he responded.

           “Red, honey, your yelling isn’t making anything easier,” Kitty said quietly.

           “For me it is!”

           “Red,” she said more sternly.

           “Well, have they figured out what’s wrong with her?” the worried father asked impatiently.

           “No, they haven’t,” Kitty answered calmly.

           “What’s taking them so long?” he grumbled. “We’ve been here for hours!”

           Kitty blinked at her husband. “We’ve been here for twenty-five minutes.”

           “And our daughter has been unconscious for forty! My little girl is in there now and I want answers, dammit!”

           “Red, she’s fine,” Kitty said, trying to soothe him. “She’s tucked in a bed right now with monitoring and her breathing is normal. They drew her blood and we’re just waiting on the test results.”

           “They need to come faster!” he shouted, causing Kitty to frantically look around and smile nervously as her coworkers stared at them.

           “Hey, Mom, if Dad has another heart attack, at least it’ll save us another ambulance bill since we’re already at a hospital,” Eric said grinning, sarcasm bleeding into his tone.

           “Can it, dumbass!” Red snarled.

           Inside the room, y/n groaned, hearing the arguing from outside and slowly opened her eyes, seeing nothing but white. Her head felt someone was taking a jack hammer to her skull. Steven noticed and waited anxiously by her side.

           “Why do they have to be so loud?” she mumbled.

           Steven sighed in relief and grabbed her hand. “Are you okay? How’re you feeling?”

           “I think so,” she croaked. “I feel like crap and I’m tired.”

           Hyde chuckled softly and leaned over, kissing her head softly. “You scared the crap out of me.”

           “What happened? Am I in the hospital?” she asked, not letting go of his hand.

           Hyde paused, searching her face. “You don’t—? You fainted and hit the ground pretty hard. They think you may have gotten a concussion.”

           “Well, that explains my headache,” she grumbled and rubbed her head. She looked at Steven who was still looking at her with worried eyes. “Where is everyone?”

           “Your parents are out in the hall with your brother, Fez is here but went to find ice cream.” He rolled his eyes at the thought but continued. “And everyone else is on their way.”

           “How long have I been out?”

           “About forty-five minutes. I’m glad you’re okay,” he answered and pulled her hand up to his lips, placing a gentle kiss.

           If it wasn’t for her head screaming at her, her heart would be fluttering away like butterflies, but all she wanted to do was numb the pain. A sharp pain surged through her skull, causing her to hiss.

           “What’s wrong? Are you alright?” he asked her.

           She tried to nod, but that caused more pain to her skull. “My head hurts. A lot.”

           “That’s what happens when you smack your head on concrete,” he answered. “You have a pretty good-sized knot on your head.”

            Y/n reached up and felt her scalp until she felt a painful bump behind the side of her head. She winced at her own touched. “Ow.”

           “Maybe you shouldn’t do that,” Hyde chuckled. “I’m going to go get something to drink. Do you want anything?”

           Her stomach churned at the thought of liquids and scrunched up her nose. “No, but I probably should. I’ll take a ginger ale if they have any.”

           “You got it, doll,” he said and walked out just as the doctor was stepping in.

           “Good afternoon, Miss Forman,” the middle-aged, dark haired man said. “I’m Dr. Kipp. I’ve been looking over you while you were out. How are you feeling?”

           “Not gonna lie, Doc, I feel pretty lousy,” Y/n responded. “I’ve been sick for the last couple of days. Not being able to keep anything down, I’m achy all over…I’m starting to wonder if I have the stomach flu or something. On top of that, my head is killing me.”

           “Well, you passed out due to your blood pressure dropping which caused a lack of blood to the brain, but it’s definitely not the stomach flu,” Dr. Kipp answered casually, setting down his clipboard as he went over to the sink to wash his hands.

           “How do you know that?” Y/n questioned him.

           “Well, it can’t be because you’re pregnant.”

                                                  --Time Skip—

           “How’s y/n doing?” Donna asked as she got to the waiting room, flowers in hand.

           “Oh, that’s so sweet that you got her flowers!” Kitty gushed, making Donna smile. “And she’s awake. The doctor is in there right now with her.”

           “Oh, good,” she said and sat down next to Fez who was quietly eating ice cream. “Where did you get the ice cream?”

           “Oh, I told them that y/n was my wife and they let me get ice cream!” he replied stoically.

           “So, you’re telling me that you hit on her and now you’re telling people she’s your wife?” Hyde seethed, holding a cup of coffee in one and a ginger ale can in the other.

           “Can you kids not fight for five damn minutes please?” Red asked impatiently. “It’s bad enough that we’re here, I don’t want to have to hear about your petty drama.”

           “Hey, don’t get mad at me. You’re the reason she’s here in the first place,” said Fez.

           “Why would it be your fault?” Kitty asked Hyde.

           “It’s not!” Hyde replied. “He’s just saying crap so I can knock his teeth in.”

           Kitty and Red squinted their eyes at the teens for a moment. “What on earth is going on here?” Kitty asked, growing frustrated.

           “Nothing,” Hyde answered through gritted, glaring daggers at Fez.

           Fez returned the glare. “You know, Hyde, I often wonder what it would be like to hook up with my best friend’s sister. Don’t you?”

            Hyde’s expression hardened. “It’s a good thing we’re in a hospital because when I break your bones, you’re already here!” Hyde aggressively moved towards Fez, but was stopped short by Eric getting in between them.

           “Okay! That’s enough,” he sang-song. “Hyde, why don’t you sit over there quietly and don’t beat up Fez.” He turned to Fez. “And Fez? Shut the hell up.”

           Hyde jerked himself away. “I’m going to go give this to y/n.”

           Back in the room, y/n felt like the wind had been knocked out of her lungs. “I’m…what?”

           “Pregnant,” he responded in a faux enthusiastic voice. “That was through the blood test. We’re going to have you take urine test as well. So,” he pulled out a plastic cup. “You’re going to pee in this cup and when you’re finished, pull the string and a nurse will come in and collect it. Then, we’ll do a full examination on you to make sure your head is okay.”

           Y/n nodded numbly and mindlessly grabbed the cup in her hand. “Okay…”

           “Probably not the news you were expecting, huh?” he asked.

           Y/n chuckled weakly. “No. Not at all.”

           “Well, I’ll be back soon with your test results.”

           He walked out the door, leaving y/n alone in the room. Her hands felt numb and she felt like there was static all around her. How could she be pregnant? How did she let this happen? And oh God, what was she going to say to Steven? Her eyes widened. Her parents?!

           A sudden heavy weight was shattered onto her chest and her eyes began to water. How was she going to tell everyone? What if her dream came true and she truly was alone? Could she raise a baby on her own? Where would she live? What job would she have to do to support her baby? Was she even going to be a good mom? Will her children grow up to be decent people? What if they’re born with health conditions? Or they fall ill? Can she even count on herself to get out of bed at 2 AM to go to the 24 hour store to buy cough medicine when they get sick? How do you even change a poopy diaper? How is she going to react when they’re teenagers and they’re learning how to drive or get their first boyfriend or girlfriend? What kind of mom was she going to be? What kind father was Steven going to be? Will he even stick around?

           With all these questions swimming through her head, she didn’t notice Steven walk back in. “I got that ginger ale you—hey, you okay?”

           Y/n snapped her head up as she was yanked out of her thoughts, which she silently thanked heaven above for. “Y-yeah, I’m fine.”

           “You sure?” he asked as he set down the drink on the table next to her. “You don’t look fine. In fact, you look kinda pale.”

           “Yeah, um,” she stuttered, swallowing hard and waved her hand casually. “The doctor says I passed out due to lack of blood to the brain. Blood tests came back normal, but he wants me to take a urine test just to be sure.” Not a total lie. Just left out a part.

           “Oh, okay. Do you need help getting to the bathroom?”

           “I think I got it,” she answered truthfully and slowly got out of bed, barley able to feel her legs. She ambled her way to the bathroom, dragging the IV along with her. She felt Steven’s stare burning a hole in the back of her head, but she couldn’t think of what he was thinking right now. She couldn’t. It would drive her to an anxiety attack.

           She closed the door quietly and baby stepped her way to the toilet. She passed by the mirror and did a double take to her reflection. Her ponytail was a complete rats nest, her eyes had dark circles under them, and her normally rosy cheeks had lost all color. She looked half dead and she wanted to cringe away. She turned her head to the side and saw the swelled up bump on her skull. She winced when she saw it and let out a sigh. She really wanted to curl up into a ball and sleep for 72 hours.

           She made her way to the toilet and shakily did her business in the cup. When she was finished, she left in on the counter in the bathroom and pulled the string. After she was finished washing up, she walked out to meet Steven sitting in the chair.

           “Hey,” he said gently whispered.

           “Hey,” she answered in the same manner. “Where is everyone?”

           “In the waiting room. Do you want to see them?”

           Her heart dropped, but she needed to play it cool. “Yeah, that would be nice.”

           He nodded and opened the door to call them in. She got back in bed with Hyde’s help, making sure her IV wouldn’t get pulled out of her arm.

           “Oh, y/n,” Kitty sobbed and rushed over to y/n who was sitting up fully and wrapped her arms around her. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

           Y/n barley reciprocated the hug. “I’m okay, Mom.”

           “When we saw you being loaded up into the ambulance, I thought I was going to die right there,” Kitty responded, stepping away from her daughter.

           “I’m fine, Mom. Really.”

           “What did the doctor say?” she pried.

           “Uh…they don’t know yet,” Y/n replied. “They’re taking a urine sample.”

           “Well, a person fainting is never a good thing,” Kitty stated matter-of-factly. “It means your blood pressure dropped and you weren’t getting enough blood flow to the brain. Those things just don’t happen.”

           “I know. They’re running tests right now,” Y/n said and leaned back against the pillows.

           “When will we find out?” Red pushed.

           “I don’t know,” Y/n responded growing annoyed. “I don’t know anything.” Lie, lie, LIE.

           “Well, we better find out soon,” Red said. “This place gives me the creeps.”

           “If you wanna leave, you can. I’m a big girl, I can leave on my own,” Y/n responded.

           “No, no, I wanna be here in this room when the doctor comes and tells us what’s wrong,” Kitty said stubbornly.

          Y/n’s heart and stomach dropped. There was no way anyone was going to be in this room when the doctor came back with the results. Positive or not, she didn’t need her parents asking questions and then finding out about her and Steven.

           She kept her face and voice as calm as possible. “No, no it’s okay. Really. I don’t know if I want everyone in here anyway. In fact, it’s probably best that I’m alone.”

           “Oh, nonsense. I—”

           “Kitty, if she wants to be alone, then we’ll leave her alone. She’s an adult now. She doesn’t need us in here,” Red said, signaling to his wife that they leave. “Besides, the Packers’s game is on and I wanna go home.”

           Kitty sighed, annoyed. “Fine. Fine, I’ll leave, but I want to hear everything, missy.”

           Y/n’s eyes widened a fraction and her heart beat violently against her blood cage. She could practically feel her blood pumping through her veins. She nodded numbly. “Okay.”

           Kitty nodded and kissed y/n on the head before leaving. She felt some tension leave her body as she watched her parents leave. She leaned her head back against the pillow and closed her eyes, feeling completely drained.

           “Are you okay?” Donna asked.

           “Yeah,” she mumbled. “Just…feeling depleted.”

           “Well, you can’t go to sleep yet,” Hyde said. “You might have a concussion.”

           “I want sleep,” she whined.

           “I know, but I’d rather you be exhausted than not wake up at all,” he responded.

           She glared at him through half open eye lids and grumbled, “I hate you.”

           He chuckled lightly. “I know.”

           The door to the room opened revealing Kelso, Fez and Jackie.

           “Hey, y/n, how are you feeling?” Kelso asked.

           “Bout as great as I look,” she replied, a weak smile playing her lips.

           “So, super sexy,” Fez responded cheekily but that smile quickly faded when Hyde punched his shoulder. “Ow.”

           “Remember: Respect,” was all Hyde said before sitting back down.

           “I heard what happened,” Kelso responded. “And Brooke made me bring you these.” He handed her a small bouquet of yellow daisies and lilies.

           Y/n chuckled, accepting the flowers. “Tell Brooke I said thank you for the nice gesture. And tell her to bring the baby around soon. I want to meet my niece.”

           Kelso’s face brightened. “You…you really think of her that way?”

           Y/n nodded. “Why wouldn’t I? We’ve all been best friends since we were little and it only makes sense that we look at each other more than just friends now.”

           “Like lovers?” Fez asked her seductively.

           “Do you have a death wish?” Hyde spat.

           “Okay, Steven that’s enough,” Y/n said as sternly as she could. “And Fez, shut up.”

           Fez pouted and went and sat in the corner of the room.

           “You know what? My mind is made up,” Kelso said. Y/n stared at him curiously, everyone joining in.

           “Kelso, in order for your mind to be made up, you have to have a brain,” Eric commented.

           Kelso shot Eric a glare before turning his head back towards y/n and Hyde. “I’ve been spending a lot of time with Betsy lately and Brooke is really starting to trust me.”

           “Okay, and that makes up your mind for?” Y/n asked him.

           “Hang on, just let me finish,” he said smiling. “Brooke is starting to trust me so much she’s even allowing me to pick the godparents.”

           “Oh, that’s great!” Y/n gleefully responded. “I’m so happy for you.”

           “And there’s only one rule. It can’t be Fez,” Kelso added on.

           Fez nodded. “That is a good rule.”

           “Godparents?” Donna mumbled to Eric. “Like we need any more responsibilities.”

           “I know,” Eric whispered back, rolling his eyes. “Such a burden.”

           “I’ve been thinking about it a lot and it’s a big deal. So,” Kelso said, stepping closer to the bed where Eric and Donna sat. “Eric, Donna.”

           “Uh, oh,” Eric sang-song.

           “Please scooch over so I can ask Hyde and y/n if they’ll be Betsy’s godparents?”

           Y/n looked at Hyde with excited eyes. “Really?!”

           “What the hell?!” Eric exclaimed.

           “Hyde and y/n?” Donna asked insulted.

           “You picked Hyde and y/n?” Jackie asked, equally insulted. “Why didn’t you ask someone else? Like me?”

           “Because you’re single,” Kelso deadpanned.

           Jackie crossed her arms. “And?”

           “And you need to be in a relationship to be a godparent,” Kelso responded slowly like he was scared to continue speaking. “That’s why they call it godparents. You can’t be single and be a godparent. That’s just stupid.” He laughed and rolled his eyes.

           Jackie stared at him in disbelief, trying to make sense of what he said. “That barley makes any sense, you moron.”

           “Hey, hey, hey, he chose us. Let him speak,” Y/n said not trying to contain her glee. “Not that I’m questioning your choice because, you know, you chose us, but why us?”

           “Because I really trust you and I think you’d be fantastic with Betsy,” he responded sweetly.

           “And you don’t think we won’t?” Eric asked.

           “Yeah, you don’t trust us?” Donna chimed in.

           “Well, to be fair, I’ve seen you drop almost everything you’ve held in your hands,” Kelso responded. “And you’ve never really taken care of a baby.”

           “Yes we have!” Donna defended. “Remember that time last year when Laurie had to babysit that one baby and I ended up changing her diaper when she couldn’t? I was a freakin’ natural!”

           “Yeah, I mean, if you gave me the honor of being godmother, I would be popular, head cheerleader, and voted best legs. This would give me another title,” Jackie argued.

           “Would you guys relax?” Hyde asked everyone. “It’s not that big of deal.”

           “Yeah, it’s not like he’s shunning you guys,” Y/n responded.

           “You’re all still going to be aunts and uncles,” Kelso defended.

           “Yeah, that’s easy for you to say,” Jackie grumbled and joined Fez in the back.

           “We can be good godparents,” Eric argued. “You can trust us.”

           “Eric, remember Goldie, the goldfish?” Y/n asked.

           “Yeah,” he responded.

           “Remember how you killed Goldie by taking him out of the fish bowl?”

           “I needed to hug something,” Eric answered coldly. “Besides, I’m not going to have to flush a baby down the toilet!”

           “Either way, man, thanks. I’m honored,” Hyde said and clapped his hand with Kelso’s and pulled him in for a bro hug.

           “If I have another kid, I’ll make you two godparents. I promise,” Kelso said.

           Eric huffed. “Yeah, yeah.”

           “Alright, I have to take a leak,” Hyde announced.

           “And I’m going to go find some more ice cream,” Fez said.

          “Can you guys make sure y/n doesn’t fall asleep?” Hyde continued.

           “You got it pal!” Kelso responded and watched as Hyde and Fez walked out.

           “I’m not a child,” Y/n responded once they were out of ear shot. “I am perfectly capable of looking after myself, thank you.”

           “Kelso!” Fez called out and barged back into the room. “Kelso, come quick! There’s a hot nurse fight happening downstairs! Hurry before it ends!”

           “See ya,” Kelso said and scrambled out the room, leaving Jackie, Eric, and Donna alone.

           “Yeah, I’m leaving too,” Jackie said pouting. “I don’t want to sit here and be reminded that I wasn’t picked for godparent. I may have to do some shopping therapy to get over it. Bye!” She squealed and walked out, leaving just the twins and Donna.

           “Do you need anything sis?” Eric asked. “Some water? Fluff up your pillows? Relinquish your title of godparent over to me?”

           Y/n gave her twin a look before scoffing. “No, thanks. I’m fine.”

           “Fine. I’ll just go see if they have any teddy bears in the gift shop that reads ‘Not Quite the Best Godparents’ and maybe it’ll be tear absorbent!” With that, he stormed out the room, leaving Elena in stunned silence.

           Donna rolled her eyes. “I better go after him. Last time I left him alone while he was upset, he thought I didn’t care about him anymore and didn’t speak to me for three days.”

           She left, leaving y/n alone in the room. Again. She leaned back once more, enjoying the silence, but now that she was alone again, she realized just how loud the silence was. All she could think was pregnant, pregnant, pregnant.    

           “What am I going to do?” she mumbled to herself.

           The door to the room opened again; Dr. Kipp entering once more.

           “Hi Miss. Forman,” Dr. Kipp greeted. “We got your test results back.”

           She gulped. “And?”

           He sat down on the stool next to her bed and looked her in the eyes. “It’s positive.”

           Her heart dropped completely, and it felt like the wind had been knocked out of her. “I’m pregnant?”

           “I know this is a lot to take in, but we need to gather some more information from you so we can determine how far along you are. But first the basics. What’s your full name?”

           “Y/f/n y/m/n Forman.”

           He scratched her answer down on his clipboard. “Birthday?”

           “May 18, 1959.”

           “So, that makes you eighteen years old, correct?”

           Y/n nodded.

           “Okay, and your current address?”

           “416 Edlebrook Ave.”

           “Beautiful,” the doctor responded and looked up from his clipboard. “Do you know who the father is?”

           Tears started to burn her eyes as she nodded her head. “I do.”

           “What’s his name?”

           “Steven James Hyde.”

           “When was your last menstrual cycle?”

           “Somewhere in mid September.”

           “And today is October 19,” he said more to himself. “So, you are about three weeks along. Now, I’m going to give this information to the nurse and have her give you a pamphlet and a referral to an OB/GYN. I’ll have them give you a call to set up an appointment. Do we have permission to leave a message with someone if you’re not available?”

           “Uh…no, just me is fine, thanks. I’m not ready to tell people yet.”

           He nods. “Understandable. Now, let’s look at your head and see how you’re doing.” As he took out a flashlight and started examining her eyes, Hyde walked back in the room.

           “Hey, Doc. How’s she doing?” he asked.

           “Well, I’m not seeing any signs of concussion, so that’s good.” He turned off the light and started feeling around underneath her jaw to the back of her head where he felt her bump. She winced and he took note of it. “She seems great besides that nasty bump. Just put some ice on it if it starts to hurt and take some aspirin for the pain. Otherwise, you’re good to go.”

           “What about her test results?”

           Dr. Kipp glanced at y/n and saw her terrified look. He glanced back at Steven who looked worried. “Test results came back normal and she’s perfectly healthy.” He noticed Steven visibly relax. “Anything else, she may discuss with you at her discretion.”

           Y/n mouthed a thank you to the doctor who gave her a subtle nod and finished writing his notes on his clipboard. “I’ll have a nurse discharge you. You have a good rest of your night and rest up.”

           Y/n nodded. “Thank you.”

           With that, he left the room, leaving y/n wanting to vomit—and not from feeling sick this time. She continued to sit in her bed, not being able to properly process the information. Her world felt fuzzy and she felt like she was going to pass out for a second time. She could hear Steven talking to her, but it was all garbled and muffled as if she were underwater. Was her dream right? Was she going to be disowned by her family? Is she going to disappoint her mother? Oh no, how is Red going to take this? She and Steven are dead. Dead like road kill.

           She heard Steven’s muffled voice again, but this time louder. She blinked and looked up at Steven. “I’m sorry, what?”

           He knitted his eyebrows at her. “I said, are you okay? Do you need help getting dressed?”

           She shook her heavy head and slowly slid out of bed. “I should be okay.” She untied her hospital gown, allowing it to pool around her feet. She shivered as the cold air hit her bare skin and turned to see her clothes balled up in a plastic bag. She slowly started dressing herself and felt Hyde’s eyes burn into her the whole time.

           She finally looked up at him as she finished putting on her pajama top. “What’s up?”

           “Are you sure you’re okay? You’re acting different.”

           She nodded, not being able to look him in the eye. “Yeah, I think so. Just still not feeling well and feeling a little disoriented from the fall. But I think I’m good.”

           He eyed her for a minute. “Okay,” he responded slowly. “As long as you don’t pass out on me again.”

           She chuckled. “I think I’ll be okay.”

           A knock came at the door and the nurse walked in. “Okay, Miss Forman. Here are your doctor’s notes to help you feel better. Plenty of rest and fluids. And—” She noticed Steven listening to her and she looked back down at the pamphlet in her hands and slid the doctor’s notes over it. “Here’s everything you else need to know. If you have any questions, there’s a number you can call and if you don’t get better or start to feel worse, come on back in.”

           Y/n thanked her and quietly gathered the rest of her stuff and headed out with Steven. He guided her slowly into the camino and started up the car. She rested her elbow on the windowsill of the door and leaned her head into her hand, feeling like sleep will overtake her any minute now. Hyde placed a gentle hand on her thigh and lovingly rubber circles with his thumb.

           “Let’s get you back in bed, yeah?”

           She swallowed the lump in her throat and nodded, not being able to form words in fear she would start crying.

           The drive home was deathly quiet as rain started to fall. The only noise emitting was outside as the rain fell onto the windshield. Not being able to handle the silence, Hyde reached over and turned on the radio, allowing the music to softly fill the car. It eased the tension slightly, allowing y/n to relax.

           He pulled up in front of a supermarket and put the car in park.

           “What are we doing here?” she croaked.

           “Do you want some soup?”

           She gave him a small smile. “That would be nice. Thank you.”

           He nodded and got out of the car, leaving it on so the heater would warm up y/n. Ever since the hospital, she’d been cold and not able to heat up as fast as she normally would. She shivered, realizing she didn’t bring a jacket or her robe. She looked around the car and noticed a blanket behind the driver’s seat. She wrapped her cold fingers around the soft material and realized it was their sex blanket. She crunched up her nose a little, noticing some stains. “Ugh, gross,” she murmured before placing the clean side on her. The stench of sex filled her nostrils, but luckily it didn’t upset her stomach more than it already was.

           She waited in the car for a few more minutes with the blanket pulled up to her chin and listened to the music. Paul Anka came on, singing (You’re) Having My Baby.

           “Would you look at that,” she grumbled and changed the station. Stevie Wonder’s Isn’t She Lovely was on playing. “What the…” she grumbled and changed it to another station. A country song this time was playing. One that y/n didn’t know, but it was better than the others, so she left it on. She listened to the lyrics as they went:

           The girls in New York City, they all march for women's lib And better homes and garden shows, the modern way to live And the pill may change the world tomorrow, but meanwhile, today Here in Topeka, the flies are a buzzin' The dog is a barkin' and the floor needs a scrubbin' One needs a spankin' and one needs a huggin' Lord, one's on the way

Oh gee, I hope it ain't twins, again.

             “Are you kidding me?” She reached over and turned off the radio, choosing to sit in silence.

           Just then the driver’s door opened and Steven clambered inside with a container of chicken soup in one hand and a pack of cigarettes in the other. “Here you go, doll.”

           “Awe, thank you, baby.” She grabbed the container from his hands and allowed the warmth to thaw her icy ones.

           “You turned off the music?” he questioned and started to beat the pack against the heel of his hand.

           “Yeah, there was nothing good on.” Technically not a lie.

           “Ah, makes sense,” he responded and noticed the blanket. He snorted teasingly. “Cold?”

           “No, no, I’m burning up actually. The blanket was so I could feel like I’m in hell.”

           He threw his add head back laughing. “Take it easy, Firecracker. If I hada known you were cold, I would’ve given you my jacket.”

           She smirked at him. “Nah, this is fine. Thanks. Besides, I wouldn’t want you to be cold.”

           “I’ll be fine,” he said and stuck a cigarette between his lips.

           Y/n’s eyes widened and quickly ripped it from him mouth.

           “What the hell, y/n?”

           “Uh, I’m still not feeling well enough. I don’t want hurl all over your car.”

           He scrunched up his nose at her. “Fine. Fair point. But I’m smoking when I get back!”

            Y/n shook her head at him. “What a rebel.”

           “Damn straight,” he responded and turned the car on. “Don’t forget who you’re with.”

           “I couldn’t even if I wanted to.”

           He smiled at her before backing up and driving them home for the night.

                                                 --Time Skip—

           The next couple of days were brutal for y/n. Kitty wouldn’t stop interrogating her and y/n finally told something made up to get her off her back. Kitty didn’t believe her, but she backed off knowing she’ll be back again. She wanted so badly to tell Steven about her pregnancy, but every time she tried, it would come out a different sentence.

         “I’m,” she would start, but right when she would look into his baby blue eyes, she would panic. “hungry. I’m hungry, starving! Can we go get something to eat?”

         He would give her a weird look before agreeing and leaving to buy her food.

           On top of that, morning sickness would rear its ugly head and she would end up being sick at the most random of times. She would be sitting down in the basement with her friends, feeling fine, but then she would feel her lunch coming back up and she would have to haul ass to the nearest restroom.

           Everyone was worried about her, trying to get her to go back to the doctor, but she already knew. She had secretly made the appointment with the OB/GYN and wasn’t going to be able to see her until two weeks out. Until then, she had to keep lying and making excuses.

           “It’s been almost a week,” Eric said one afternoon as they were all huddled into the basement. “You really should go back to the doctor.”

                      “I’d rather not,” Y/n said. “Going to the doctors for every sniff and cough is not my thing.”

                     “But it’s not just a sniffle or a cough,” he pointed out. “It’s like one minute you’re fine and then the next you’re throwing up Mom’s tuna casserole.”

                  “That was a long night,” she countered, remembering that night as she had to lay on the floor next to the toilet for hours because she couldn’t stop throwing up.

             “Well, can you still keep down fluids?” Donna asked. “Like, chicken broth, orange juice, and tea?”

           “Yeah, those are fine,” Y/n responded. “I just can’t seem to digest solid foods. But I was able to drink apple juice the other day with some bread. I’m also not nauseas all day anymore. I think I’m getting better.”

             “Well, if you’re feeling better, wanna go shoot some hoops?” Kelso asked.

             “Nah, but you guys can,” Y/n responded. “Me and Donna can just sit and ogle.”

             “I knew you were checking me out,” Kelso purred and rubbed his chest.

             “Not you, you dork,” Y/n said. “Hyde and Eric.”

                      “You ogle at me?” Eric said disgusted. “That’s gross.”

             “No! Donna is, you dumbass!” Y/n said and stood up while Eric laughed. “Moron.”

             She walked outside to the driveway with everyone behind her. As they reached the driveway, the boys split up into their group while Donna and y/n moved away to watch from the porch.

             “So, Hyde, how’s it been with you and y/n?” Kelso asked under his breath, making sure the girls couldn’t hear.

             “You know, things are going good, but with her being sick this past week, it’s been kinda hard not getting any action,” Hyde responded.

             “Ewwwww! Could you please not?” Eric exclaimed. “I told you I don’t wanna hear it.”

             “I know, that’s why I did it,” Hyde laughed and tossed the ball to Eric. “Your play. Go.”

             The girls watched from the porch, admiring the way their men looked. Y/n wanted so badly to jump Hyde’s bones, but didn’t want to puke in the middle of it and ruin the mood. She and Donna chatted idly as they watched their men get sweaty and hot.

             “Look, I know he’s your brother, but damn does he look hot when he’s all concentrated,” Donna swooned as she watched Eric block Fez’s slam dunk.

             “Really? I think he looks constipated,” Y/n laughed.

             In the middle of the play, Eric turned, facing them while trying to block Kelso from making his shot. The concentration he wore on his face made Donna drool but laugh.

             “You’re right, he does look constipated,” she agreed and laughed even more.

             “I know you don’t think so, but Steven just looks so good when he’s moving around like that,” Y/n said and stared at her boyfriend. “I mean, when he gets all sweaty and flushed, it makes me want him so bad.”

             Donna chuckled. “So, how have you guys been?”

             “We’ve been good. You know with me being this sick, we haven’t really gotten the time to do it or anything.”

             “From the looks of it earlier and hearing Eric scream ‘ew’ makes me believe that Hyde already said something like that to him,” Donna laughed once more.

             Y/n chuckled. “Sounds about right.”

             They fell into a comfortable silence as they watched the four boys play basketball. The entire time, y/n’s heart was hammering against her chest, debating on telling Donna right there. She couldn’t take keeping a secret this big from her best friend. Besides, if she wasn’t going to tell someone soon, she was going to explode.

             “Donna,” she said shakily. “I have something to tell you.”

             Seeing how serious her tone was, Donna perked up. “What?”

             “I need you to promise me that you’re not going to freak out. Because if you do, everyone will hear it and I can’t have that right now.”

             Donna’s heart started beating wildly against her own ribcage, now nervous and worried. “Okay?”

           “And whatever happens, promise me you’ll still be my friend?”

           “Of course! What’s going on?”

             Y/n took a deep breath before looking Donna in the eye. At that moment, she wanted to crawl up in a bawl and just cry. But she knew she couldn’t; She had to be strong. So instead she let out a shaky breath.

             “I’m pregnant.”

@lieswithoutfairytales​ @mdittyz123​ @n-dg-wm​ @undead-sierra​ @random-thoughts-003​ @taysirene​ 

[feitan-apologist]

Feitan x Reader (Not SFW)

Content Warnings: 18+ only, Noncon (dead dove do not eat), kidnapping+imprisonment, whipping, orgasm control, forced orgasm, verbal degradation

AFAB reader

Synopsis: reader is a beginner nen user and has been investigating the phantom troupe. instead of killing them, our smol sadist decides kidnapping them to play with might be more fun :)

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

The moment you regain consciousness, you know something is wrong.

Your awareness comes back slowly, dragging itself up out of a murky haze, and with it discomfort. The first stirring of alarm comes when you try to move your arms. Still shrouded in fog, you strain for a few futile seconds before realizing that your arms are tied behind your back, you think with rope, and you can’t move them at all. The stiffness in your shoulders tells you that you’ve been positioned like this for a while.

Instinctively, you call forth your En, wanting to know where you are and what - or who - is around you. But when you reach for the power that’s simmered under your skin for the past year, always ready, always accessible, something just… doesn’t connect. You still have a life force, obviously, but it feels blocked off somehow, like it’s just beyond your reach, fingertips brushing it but unable to grasp ahold.

The twinge of alarm in your chest has ballooned into panic, and you start to sweat, heart hammering against the inside of your chest. From the feel of it, your ankles are tied to the legs of a narrow table that you’re currently bent over, holding your legs spread open; in addition to your arms bound behind you by an intricate braid of rope that secures you from shoulder to wrist, you can feel something fitted snugly around your neck. As you open your eyes, seeing nothing but a blank, dark wall in front of you, your attempt to lift your head is stopped with a jolt as the short chain attaching your collar to the table snaps taut. And most insidiously, the chilled air brushing against your skin tells you that you’re completely naked.

As your brain processes all this new information, a single coherent thought pops into your head - oh, fuck.

“You’re awake.”

The quiet voice behind you makes you freeze. You stop breathing, every muscle tense, as the voice’s owner slowly steps into your field of vision, and when you see who it is, you could swear your heart stops beating.

“Feitan.” Your strangled whisper, barely audible even to you, prompts the corner of his mouth to rise imperceptibly. The Phantom Troupe’s torturer stands relaxed before you, shirtless, pale chest shining in the dim light. His face is impassive; he seems completely emotionless as he stares down at you, bound and growing increasingly panicked before him.

“You can’t use your Nen,” he says in that soft, unsettling voice of his. “I’m sure you’ve noticed by now. But there’s no point in trying. You can’t escape.”

“W-Why am I here?” you choke out, every muscle in your body still rigid. You can’t stand to meet his gaze; instead, your eyes stare straight ahead, unblinking.

“You were getting a little too nosy for our liking. I was just going to kill you, but when we were going through your computer, we saw some… interesting things in your search history. I was so surprised, a bland little thing like you… I decided it would be a shame to kill you without playing with you first.”

You recoil in disgust at his choice of words. What the fuck?? What is he talking about? Your mind scrambles for a response, but he continues before you can get a word in.

“I can tell you’re afraid.” He removes a hand from his pocket and cups your chin, tilting your head as far as the collar and chain will allow and forcing you to lock eyes with him. He smiles, and your blood runs cold. The look in his eyes is unmistakably that of a predator sizing up its prey. “That’s good. You should be.”

With that word, he releases you, striding back around the table where you can’t see him. You strain your head, trying to track his movements, but the collar gives you a very limited range of vision. “Wait!” you cry, “what are you - please, what do you want? I’ll - I’ll give you what you want, just please let me go.” Your voice comes out terribly weak-sounding, and you inwardly scream, pulling against your restraints with a renewed vigor, desperately trying to conjure forth the Nen that continues to elude your grasp. He snickers, the sound coming from a good distance away, so you jump in shock when his hand caresses your ass a moment later, leaving goosebumps in its wake. You shrink from his touch, shrink from the thought of what your revealing position, bent over like this, implies. No… he wouldn’t… he can’t…

“I already have what I want. I’ve caught you, and now I get to have my fun with you.” There’s no mistaking the glee in his voice, filling you with dread, your mind whirring ever faster toward the inescapable truth of the situation. His hand slips away from your ass, and you hear a faint rustling - he’s holding something, but you don’t know what. The seconds tick past, no indication of movement from behind you, and you find yourself holding your breath in anticipation. Your heartbeat thuds against the table, against the inside of your chest, the utter silence threatening to drown you, the blood roaring in your ears, what is he going to do to me, oh god oh god oh god-

Your thoughts are cut off as the whip cracks across your ass, hard, and you scream - honestly at first merely from the shock of the impact and the loud noise, adrenaline numbing your senses. But a moment later the pain registers in your brain, a line of white-hot fire running across your backside, and your throat tightens, breathing growing fast and shallow. “Feitan, please-”

“Oh, that hurts, does it? I thought you were tougher than that.”

The whip slashes you again, lower this time, leaving another line of heat in its wake. “Stop!” you cry, desperately fighting back the tears forming in your eyes. He laughs wordlessly, letting a long, silent second stretch out before slashing you again, then again, each crack of the whip punctuated by your cries. You strain your head, trying to see where he is so you can anticipate when the next hit will come, but he’s out of your field of vision - the only thing you can see is the blank wall in front of you. He’s varying the amount of time between whips on purpose, you realize, sometimes landing three or four in agonizingly quick succession, sometimes letting long seconds stretch between each one. The anticipation has you shivering, squirming in your tight constraints, not knowing when the next lick of pain will cut into your flesh. He’s trying to get inside your head, amplify your fear and helplessness, make you weak.

And fuck, it’s working. You’ve taken worse than this in training, far worse, and he’s right, you are tougher than this. A whipping should not be enough to have you undone, tears now streaming down your cheeks, body flinching as the blows land across your exposed ass and thighs. Except… training had also never left you with this terrible tension between your legs. The criss-crossing web of angry red marks Feitan’s whip had created were practically glowing with heat, and while the stinging, burning sensation was undoubtedly painful, with the anticipation and the fear and your adrenaline-addled brain… it also felt a whole lot like pleasure.

As the whip landed again, the cry you let out was unmistakably close to a moan. You could hear the delight in Feitan’s voice as he stepped closer, running a hand across the angry flesh of your backside, his cool fingers tracing the lines he’d made. “Like I said, I was surprised at the things you watched to get off. We share many of the same tastes, you know. But between the two of us, we both know which one is the little masochist.” At the word masochist, his hand dips between your legs and strokes the wetness that’s gathered there. You gasp as his fingers find your clit, swirling over it in a motion that draws a moan equal parts shame and desire from your lips. “What a fucking slut you are,” he murmurs, “getting wet from me whipping you. You’re pathetic.” You cry out as he slides two fingers into you, curling them against just the right spot.

“Don’t,” you whimper, “please.”

“Oh, you don’t think this feels good?” Feitan asks. “Fine. Maybe you’ll prefer this.” His fingers slip out of you and you can hear him rummaging with something underneath the table. Realization dawns on you as a telltale buzzing starts up, a moment before he presses the vibrator against your clit. You moan, back arching involuntarily as you press down onto the wand, shame flooding through you a moment later at how good it feels.

“No, stop, don’t… don’t make me-”

“Oh, I’m not making you do anything,” Feitan says, securing the vibrator in place and sliding his fingers back into you. He leans over you, drawing his fingers in and out in a slow, consistent rhythm. “It’s not my fault you’re a little painslut that gets off from me hurting you.” He lowers his head to your bare shoulder, and as you feel his cool breath on your hot skin, you wonder if he is bizarrely going to kiss you. When his mouth meets your flesh, however, it’s his teeth that sink in, eliciting a new, different sort of pain. You can’t help but moan as he harshly works his mouth on you, sucking and biting your skin in a way you know is going to leave a bruise. You writhe, trying to get away from the sensations of pain, of pleasure, the two almost indistinguishable now, overwhelming you. You realize with horror that you’re already well on your way to orgasm - usually it takes you longer than this, but fuck, you can’t help it, you can’t stop the bombardment of stimuli hitting your body, his fingers working expertly inside of you, the burning marks covering your backside, the vibrator inescapably pressed against your clit.

“Please stop,” you beg, humiliated, desperate, you can’t come from what this monster is doing to you. Being degraded like this is bad enough, but you can’t give him the satisfaction of enjoying it.

“Getting close, are we?” Feitan leans further over you, whispering his next words directly into your ear. “Don’t you dare come without my permission. Understand?” When you don’t respond immediately, he grabs a fistful of your hair with his free hand and pulls, hard. You yelp, and quickly stutter your assent, yes, you understand. “Good.” He lets go of your hair, releasing the tension on your scalp, but in the next moment his mouth is on the side of your neck, working his teeth into the soft flesh above the collar. You jerk away but are stopped short by the chain, and he digs his teeth in so hard you’re afraid he’s going to draw blood.

It’s jarring having him so close, so intimate. The faint scent of his hair, the warmth of his body pressed against yours, the wet heat of his mouth - it’s a disgusting parody of the intimacy shared by actual lovers. You close your eyes, squeezing out the tears still freely flowing, and try desperately to dissociate. You don’t want to be here, trapped in your aching body; you will your mind to go anywhere else, to drift off in some fantasy that will let you escape the horror of what this man is doing to you. But you can’t. If it were purely pain you had to endure, you’d be able to do it, you were sure, but you’d never had to contend with someone using your own body against you like this.

The seconds tick past as you writhe and moan and shake beneath him, gritting your teeth, breath coming in short gasps, and then - you can’t do it. Your resolve breaks, you can’t do it, you can’t hold back any longer, you feel like you’re going to explode, and you let the pleasure come freely, gasping as you reach the edge. Remembering his threat, you ask through clenched teeth, “Can I come?” Feitan leans back, huffing out a breath, and you can feel the self-satisfied smirk on his face. He’s won.

You don’t understand when the stimulation suddenly disappears, his fingers slipping out of you and the vibrator pulling away. Your pussy clenches around nothing, desperately seeking the pleasure that was there a moment before, the orgasm still so close. A sound of utter betrayal escapes your lips as you realize what he’s done.

“What? Weren’t you asking me to stop just a few minutes ago? I thought this is what you wanted.” The glee in his voice is unmistakable, and in that moment, you hate him with every cell in your body.

“You fucking basta-Aagghh!” your words are cut off as the whip slashes across your ass again, catching you completely off guard. You sob in anger and pain as he whips you hard, five times in immediate succession. The brief break your tender flesh had been granted only heightens the pain as five fresh marks join the lattice of swollen lines covering your ass and thighs. “Fuck!” you scream, fresh tears springing to your eyes.

“Oh, you poor thing,” Feitan says derisively. In the next instant, he’s pressing the vibrator against your clit again, laughing at the way your body immediately reacts, arching into the stimulation. You can’t fight the whimpers escaping your mouth, every muscle in your body tense and shaking as the orgasm previously denied to you builds back to a crescendo.

“Please can I come?” you cry, and the fact that you already know the answer doesn’t ease the agony as Feitan pulls the vibrator away, leaving you teetering on the edge but unable to push yourself over. You sob as he whips you again, no longer making even the barest effort to hide your pain and frustration. You realize distantly that you’re breathing too fast, too shallow, and your head is spinning; it’s a good thing you’re laid out on this table, because there’s no way you could remain standing right now.

Done with the whip for the moment, Feitan leans over you, sliding two fingers deep into your cunt and rubbing your clit with the other hand. “Do you know how absolutely dripping wet you are right now?” he murmurs. “It’s pathetic.”

“Fuck you,” you reply through gritted teeth, but then he curls his fingers in just the right way, and- “Aaahhh, pleeeease may I come?”

“No,” he replies, voice full of malicious glee, pulling away, and you brace yourself for the whip you know is coming. You’re caught completely off guard, then, when he presses the vibrator against your clit just moments later, and you’re immediately pushed back to the edge.

“OhhhhfuckcanIcome?” you gasp, and when he pulls the vibrator away, the noise you make is one of absolute despair. You’re exhausted from the pain, from the stress, from the edging; you’re dimly aware of how not in control you are, mind clouded over with fear and desperation and the overwhelming desire - no, need to come, you’ve never been this desperate in your life, and while you hate the man standing behind you with your whole being, you’re also utterly dependent on him for the release your body is begging for. “Feitan,” you whimper, “please, I’m begging you, please, stop, I need to…”

“Oh, you need to, do you?” He runs his hand over your ass, fingers grazing over the lines he’s left, dipping lower to teasingly trace over your cunt before returning to their original path. “You’ll just die if I don’t let you come, will you? Is that how this works?” He laughs at your quiet stream of pleases, muttered almost unintelligibly as you shake and cry before him.

His hand disappears, and suddenly he’s in front of you again, crouched down so that your eyes are level with his. His fingers curl into your hair and yank, forcing your eyes open, and you stare at him through a haze of tears. “You want to come? Earn it. And don’t even think about biting me - you won’t live long to regret it.” He stands, hands fumbling with the front of his pants, and you understand as he frees his cock and shoves it against your lips. You hesitate, recoiling at the thought, but as he grabs your hair again and pulls hard, you open your mouth for him.

Feitan doesn’t hesitate to shove his cock down your throat, making you gag and struggle to turn your head away, fighting his grip. He holds himself there for a long moment, then pulls out long enough for you to gasp for air before shoving himself in again. You struggle to control your tongue and lips as he fucks your mouth in earnest, staying just shy of the point that will make you gag but setting a rapid pace that almost immediately has you struggling to take in enough air. You’re torn between a desire to make this as unpleasant as you can for him and just wanting it to be over as quick as possible. Not that you have much control over that anyways - both of his hands are tangled in your hair now, controlling the speed and angle of his thrusts, and you can’t so much as turn your head away.

“Look at me,” he growls. You strain to meet his gaze at this awkward angle, and a jolt runs through you as you lock eyes. His face is twisted into what could only be described as a manic euphoria - eyes wide, pupils dilated, a slight sheen of sweat coating his temple, and a smile of pure, sadistic delight on his face. It’s the expression of someone unhinged from reality - and who’s loving every moment of what they’re doing.

Feitan pulls out of your mouth suddenly, leaving a strand of saliva hanging from your lips to the head of his cock. He surprises you as he releases his grip on your hair and lowers a hand to caress your cheek; the gesture is soft, completely incongruous with the rest of his actions. “You look perfect like this, you know,” he says quietly. You stare back at him in shock, at a loss for words. What is that expression in his eyes? If the thought didn’t strike you as absolutely absurd, you’d call it affectionate.

You don’t have time to say anything, though, as he strides around the table again and positions himself behind you. You let out a choked cry as you feel something hard press up against your opening, and within the next moment he’s pushed inside you. The “No” dies on your lips as he slides in deep, stretching you out, hitting every nerve inside you, and your back arches against your will. You don’t want it to feel good, you don’t want this at all, but the fresh tears that slide down your cheeks as he begins fucking you aren’t ones of pain. Your body screams in pleasure every time he slams into you, rough and fast, his hands gripping your whip-damaged hips, and you’re reminded just how close you were to coming before. The slight gasps coming from behind you tell you that Feitan is getting there as well, and you fleetingly rejoice at the thought that this will be over soon.

The sound that leaves your mouth when he reaches down to rub your clit would have made you ashamed, before. Now, the only thought in your head is of release. You’re at the edge again immediately as his fingers practically attack your clit, rubbing too hard, too fast, it’s almost painful, and you don’t even attempt to ask before letting the orgasm bloom inside you. In that moment, everything falls away. Your entire awareness is focused on the pulsing heat between your legs and his cock still pounding into you, your pussy clenching around every thrust as you come harder than you ever have in your life. You don’t know if you scream or sob or stay silent. You aren’t aware of anything besides how unimaginably, exquisitely perfect you feel.

It’s bliss.

.

You barely notice as Feitan comes inside of you, pushing in as deep as he physically can before eventually pulling out, leaving you limp on the table. You don’t know how long you lay there, eyes shut, mind drifting in and out of awareness as he does god knows what in the room behind you. You like it this way. It’s so much easier not to think.

When he eventually walks around into your field of vision, he’s fully clothed, face covered by a bandana, his earlier expression now replaced with the usual impassivity. He crouches so his face is at eye level with yours and gazes coolly at you. “You disobeyed me.”

“I - what?” you mumble, raising your head.

“You came without asking permission,” Feitan says calmly, drawing a knife from his pocket. You stiffen, eyes wide as he raises the blade and delicately traces your jaw with it, keeping the pressure light enough to not break the skin. “I told you you’d regret it if you disobeyed me. And you did it anyways. You’re even more of a masochist than I thought.”

“No - I - that’s not-”

“Shut up.” The blade is at your lips now, tracing the outline of your Cupid’s bow. “I made a good choice when I brought you here. You’re going to be a very entertaining little pet. Now-” he stands abruptly. “I’ll be back in a few hours. I’ll punish you then.”

You twist your head around as you try to follow his departure from your field of vision, a sense of relief filling you at the thought of even a temporary reprieve. “Oh, I almost forgot,” he says from behind you. You jerk as he clicks the vibrator to life and presses it against your overly sensitive clit, trying to angle your hips away. He only pushes it harder up against you and secures it in place against the table with what sounds like a metal clamp. “Maybe this will make you more obedient.” You squirm, arching your back and wriggling your hips to try to escape the stimulation, but it’s no use - the vibrator is pressed up snugly against you, and it won’t budge. Your stomach drops as you realize how he’s going to leave you.

“Wait!” you cry, mind racing for something to say to make him change his mind.

Your answer is the slam of the door behind him as Feitan walks out.

[the-crows-typist]

Hi Lemilia-senpai! Can i ask for a romantic and fluffy ficlet with Silver and a fem crush with the word “cooking” please? Thank you!

Good day, I’m back. Work has been kicking my ass but hopefully I get to the full swing of things as the year progresses. Please enjoy this fic with some hints of familial and romantic love.

Word count: 4,735 

The Possibilites are Endless

“I want to make you proud.”

Silver’s family was among the fae, it had always been, and despite being the only human many did not hesitate to show affection towards him.  Try as he may, Silver had no memory of his youth before Lilia took him in though the old man did say he smelled of charred wood when he found him but that was all he could surmise. Malleus, another boy Llia raised into adulthood, looked after him and another boy, Sebek. Their lives were relatively easy but it came with the promise and training to become Malleus’ royal guards

Silver had a knack of roaming the halls alone when he wasn’t studying or practicing swordsmanship. He liked to trail the smell of the kitchen; the staff were nice to him and since he didn’t pose much trouble, they allowed him to look through their work station granted he doesn’t touch anything hot. The soft creaking of the door and pattering of feet would always be acknowledged by the chefs before they went back to work.

Ever the curious boy he was, he walked up to the one of the stations with his nose smelling salt, pepper, and thyme. His eyes would sparkle at the cooking materials before him, palms almost itching to grab it.

His small hands reached for a hammer, one made of wood and had spiked endings. He looked up at the sound of laughter, the chef smile down at him after cutting crosses into the meat he was preparing. “Interested in that?” Silver was inclined to put it back before it was lifted out of his hold with magic. “This is a meat tenderizer, it helps you make the meat softer before cooking.”

“What happens if you don’t hammer it?” Silver tipped his toes, looking at the raw meat seasoned with spices that tickled his nose.

“It’ll be tough to chew,” The chef let the hammer float out his hands, hovering over the peace of meat to beat it with hard slaps. “Why don’t you sit down over there and I’ll make you a snack and then you’ll see the difference.”

He sat obediently on a stool, watching the chef get to work with the many spices and herbs that he smelled that sizzled with the meat. Yes, he had enjoyed the luxury of his new life under the fae but it wasn’t always this comforting or relaxing. Malleus and Lilia were often busy and Sebek…While Sebek was fun to play with, his loud personality often made Silver exhausted.

“Can I help?”

There was a beat of hesitation and the drop of the shoulders that he had seen almost familiarity “When you’re able to handle the hammer with magic.” The chef smiled at him again but Silver already knew what that meant. What he could handle was different from people like Lilia could handle.

His look was dejected but it was something he was used to hearing. The limits of those of the fae and humans were vastly different and their treatment of him was a testament to that; always protected and never seeing the front, always staying behind and never someone’s side. The silence was deafening and his eyelids grew heavy, slipping into a sleep he didn’t want to go into. A dream begets one’s deepest desires, a long yearning for something so awaited for so long. He dreamed of standing next to someone, their cloak fluttering in the wind.

Ah, yes…This is what he wanted the most.

Perhaps one day, he’ll stand side by side with someone. Someday…

His eyes opened, the apple tree lending light to him from the small crevices and holes formed by leaves and branches. Riddle sat next to him, sweaty from their previous ordeal. They had cooked so much meals that day that the ghosts had asked them to take a break.

“Heat doesn’t affect us,” Said the head chef. “The students are not yet accustomed to the kitchen so it’s best to let them rest.” His head craned to Riddle and Silver. “A good thirty minutes will do.”

“Hm,” Riddle leaned his head against the bark. “The next judges are Jamil, Vil and Malleus…They’re the hardest trio to please.” Silver grimaced, first a dream that bore into his heart then having to face Malleus? Talk about bad timing. “What are we cooking this time?” Silver asks.

“Beef stew.”

There was a grimacing from both of them and Silver pushed himself off the ground. “The sooner we finish this, the better.” Offering his hand to Riddle, he pulled his classmate from the grass. “Please don’t hesitate to tell me when I’m dozing off this time.” The redhead let out a small laugh, remembering the moment Silver fell asleep while stirring some ingredients. “I will.”

The two walked back to the kitchen sharing a brief silence together, “Do you…” Silver began. “Do you often doubt your abilities?” Riddle tilted his head before Silver explained once more. “What I mean is that you question if you’re really as strong as people say you are…Or something like that.”

“I do. Many times.” Their walk slowed and Riddle looks at his pen, its pristine gem clear and pure of the ink that once dwelled within it. “Even after I became the dorm leader, I always do. My magic cancels out others, yes, people often think that my magic is the strongest they’ve seen but in reality, it’s rigid and stiff and above all, conditional.”

There was a look of remembrance in his face and Riddle sighed, pocketing his pen neatly onto his uniform. “People like Leona, Azul and all others after me hold magic far greater than what I can ever hope to achieve. I have moments when I think of myself as not being strong enough, being bitter about what I can’t do.”

Silver sighs, perhaps he shouldn’t have asked but seeing Riddle suddenly smile made him pause. “But that also means that even I have a long way to go in perfecting my magic.”

“And what better way to improve than by improving one’s talent in cooking?” Riddle’s smile was sweet and Silver couldn’t help but return it. “That’s right.”

“Ah, but…I should really get used to cutting onions.”

“You’ll get them right, eventually.”

The three judges took their seats. Silver closed his eyes, holding the meat tenderizer tightly in his hand. The presence of someone he wanted to impress wasn’t doing wonders for his insides.

Vil pulled him seat closer, eyeing Riddle with a smirk. He had been a judge in the past along with Jamil. “We’ll be in your care.” Vil says. “As far as charred remains go, I expect a lovely dish. Perhaps control the fire you use this time.” There was a noise of embarrassment and Riddle pouted. “I…I have improved my craft with Silver,” His goes back to his dignified pose, of that of a king, “I will not serve food that isn’t up to your standards.”

A huffing laughter and Vil leaned back on his seat. “Make my taste buds sing, Queen of Hearts.” Malleus regarded the two with a calculated gaze. “How is Silver in all this?” He asked his junior, Riddle had just taken out some garlic, onion and potatoes while Silver went to the back to prepare the meat, clearly not wanting to look but listening to Riddle’s criticisms.

“He has done well with a few close calls.” Riddle explained. “I cannot say for certain which of us is doing the best since I have resigned myself from that thinking. This event isn’t to see who cooks better but to teach those who want to know the craft.”

Malleus chuckles and Riddle lets him go on his way. “Then he is in good hands. I shall look forward to your creations, Rosehearts, Silver.”

Jamil looked to his side, eyes wide suddenly. “I didn’t you were coming along, prefect.” You came in with a camera and some notepads in your hands, it was clear that you rushed your way to the building. “I have to record this moment for the school newspaper.”

You waved at Silver and gave you a smile in return. While your appearance in Night Raven was sudden, you and Silver had grown close quickly and often joining each other for lunch or spending time together after school. Your presence was calming him but also an indicator that he should do well.

“Just act like I’m not here.” You ready your camera and took a shot.

Jamil’s eyes looked at how they worked through the kitchen, so far so good in terms of food prep. Riddle was meticulous with handling the knife…Though he needed some time to perfect cutting onions without crying. He can’t blame him, he had the same problem when he was starting out. The meat tenderizer hit the raw meat a few times before being cut into small pieces.

Silver seemed to have prior knowledge to cooking and he was faring out better than Riddle. The smell of garlic, onion, carrots and potato mixed together perfectly. So far, so good. It wasn’t long for you to kneel beside him to take a picture of the cooking area from a different angle. “I think they’re doing well. No bad fires or anything!” You whispered to Jamil and he only shrugged his shoulders.

“Indeed.” Jamil leaned back on his seat. “Silver and you hang out together often, correct?”

“Yup, during lunch times mostly.”

Jamil nodded his head. “Then you’ll be able to see what I’m seeing in a clearer light.” A wave of confusion washes over you and you look onto Silver without the eyes of a photographer. His eyes determined yet his shoulders tight and rigid, those shaking hands handling equipment flimsily.

“It’s only proper that you put good posture into everything you do,” Jamil lectured. “In cooking it is a necessity, no less. And while I understand he wants to do his best given the leader of his dorm will be a judge …” He placed a hand on his chin in thought.

“You think this behavior runs deeper, is that it?”

Jamil smiled at you, shrugging his shoulders. You set your camera on the table, letting your knees rest. “Silver doesn’t talk much about his dorm.” You explain. “He feels that he doesn’t need to…But out of the group he’s always with, he tries the hardest.”

Silver sets the meat and cut vegetables into a pressure cooker. “The hardest?” You look down at your feet, your memories filing to the days he chose to be vulnerable around you. It was under one of the apple trees.

“When you’re different, you do what it takes to belong. While I have been reminded time and time again that it isn’t needed…” His eyes are downcast, staring into nothing; a big sigh lets his shoulders grow and recede. “It’s harder to keep trying when the difference is so obvious.”

Jamil is silent and so were you. The pressure cooker had been set and the waiting game began, Riddle was quick to shake Silver out of what might have been a sleeping spell. “Silver’s strength is immense and his skills make him almost a danger to those who try threaten the people he loves,”

“I just wish he wouldn’t be so hard on himself.” The camera was pulled to your chest, you expression worrisome.

Jamil looks down, almost feeling guilty for prying. “I’m sorry I asked.”

“You didn’t know.” You reassured him.

The judging round was tense for both Silver and Riddle, the three students in front of them had the most refined palates in the entire school. The plates were shaking in their hands, Riddle handing one plate to Jamil then to Vil and leaving Silver to Malleus.

The flash of the camera made everything hazy, suddenly the sound of silence was too deafening. The plate rattled in his grip.

He needed to do well. He must do everything well.

“Silver?”

He closed his eyes and breathing deeply. There was anticipation and then concern as he tittered over.

“Silver.”

The light headedness was gripping him and he was swaying, he couldn’t breathe properly.

“Silver!”

The plate shatters when it slipped out of his hands and Silver goes down to the ground with a loud thud, a collective gasp runs silences the entire room. You and Riddle bolt, taking Silver up in your arms and pulled him up from the hot mess of ceramic and spilled food. He was blinking wildly, only coming into consciousness seconds later.

He sees the mess, he sees his own legs sprawled on the floor with his head reeling in confusion and fear. Then he looks up at Malleus whose green eyes bore an expression he couldn’t understand in all the panic that rose within him.

All the words said to him were things he couldn’t hear in the strong beat that rattled in his ears. Malleus blinked, a hand reaching out to him with lips speaking but couldn’t be head. “Silver, are you—?” Silver gets up and immediately runs out of the building, pushing you and Riddle aside.  

“He’s not answering his phone.” You say, pulling the receiver off your ear. The mess had already been cleaned and destroyed plate disposed of. Malleus stood beside you, holding the last shard of broke plate carefully in his hands.

“Please give me the shard. I’ll take care of it—.” Riddle offered his hand but was met with only a question in return. “Tell me, Silver has been practicing with you this whole time.” The redhead faltered and his hand went limp on his side. “Has he said anything to you, anything at all?”

Riddle was silent, his head hung in thought. “All he ever told me was all about cooking but…He did ask me one question about doubting yourself..” Malleus blinks then sets the shard down on the table behind him.

You set your phone back and Malleus closed his eyes. “I see.”

Pocketing your phone, you give your camera to Riddle. “I’ll go look for him.”

“I’m coming too.”

Jamil walked to your side but before you could deny his request, he gave a sympathetic smile. “Consider it my apology for prying.”

“Silver, what is this?”

Lilia had come in at such a bad time, the stew he was trying to cook had burned in his sleep. With a flick of his wrist and snap of his fingers, the fire has disappeared into a pillar of smoke. The stew was a murky black and it smelled of charred remains.

“Papa, I—!”

Dread filled his soul, Lilia had approached the cauldron to lean down and scoop a spoonful of ruined stew and ate it in one bite.

“It’s good.”

Silver didn’t flinch when Lilia’s hand set itself on his head. “Needs a bit more salt but it’s good. You’d make a good chef one day.”

“You didn’t have to lie to me.”

Silver’s hat had been discarded and so was the meat tenderizer, the tall boy huddled between the large roots of an old tree with hands around his shoulders and legs to his chest. He closed his eyes, remembering Lilia’s smiling face as he pat his head and assuring him whatever he makes tasted good.

And yet…

His body calmed, limbs relaxed and eyes hollow. The winds blew the trees, the wood irked and the leaves hissed like rain. He blew it. He totally blew it. Everything he had been doing up until that point was perfect and thanks to Riddle he didn’t fall asleep even once.

That was until he had to present his work to the judges. Malleus was a prince, after all, it was expected that he would be served nothing less than perfection. What he did was an absolute embarrassment to him and as the appointed knight to the royal family.

“Raise your head a little higher, strengthen your grip on the sword. Yes, very good.” The young boy’s hand was adjusted, the heir apparent holding it gently with his long fingers against his wrist. “This part, your wrist, is the most valuable part in handling a blade.” Malleus’ smile betrayed his concern for him. “So take care of it for me, alright?”

Even in his youth, Malleus was so careful with him as if he were an extremely delicate porcelain doll.

“Lilia told me you had come down with a bad case of the stomach bug. Honestly, what were they thinking feeding you such a meal?” Malleus’ hand would come to feel his forehead. “I’ll have the palace healer bring you some brews to ease your stomach pain.” The prince brushed some hair off his sweating face. “Rest, Silver.”

What was the point of being a knight if all he ever did was stay behind at his orders?

“You have to stay here and protect Sebek.” Beyond the castle walls, Silver could hear the roars of invading beast of the night and corrupted village people. Malleus held the boy’s shoulders while Silver pulled at his robes. “I can’t let any one of you get hurt. No one should.”

All he ever wanted…

“Silver,” Malleus would call for him.

Was to be next to him.

His hand would come up as it always did, his fingers ready to run through his hair. “Silver,” He’d call out to him.

That’s all he ever wanted.

“Silver,”

“Found you.”

His eyes opened, your hand resting on his shoulder. The wind blew and making your hair fly, framing your face as you smiled at him. “You…” He turned his head when Jamil made his presence known

. “I didn’t expect you to choose the forest as a hiding place. It took us a while to pinpoint where you were.” Your hand left his shoulder and you sat in front of him. “Do you want to talk about it?”

The wind blew again, the warming breeze provided him time to think things through. “All my life it’s been that way.” He buries his nose onto his knees. “I don’t want to stand behind someone forever.”

“Then don’t.”

Jamil kneels down next to you Silver’s stunned silence made him look away from a moment, flushed embarrassment on his cheeks. “W-what I mean is…If you don’t like the position you’re in then you have to move. It’s a hard process but the first step matters the most.”

“I don’t know—.”

“Uncertainty comes with it, if that what you’re asking.” The boy shrugged his shoulders. “There’s no going around it.”

“Malleus was upset when you left suddenly. I think its best you talk to him, let him know you’re alright.” Your smile had become a calming factor for Silver and soon the cold grip on his insides loosened. “Can I make the beef stew again? I think I got it right this time.”

“Ah but I’ll need some help.”

You giggle, waving your hands and waggling your fingers. “You’ve got four hands readily available.”

Malleus had walked the campus to every corner he could and not once did he see the familiar mop of messy white hair in the sea of people. The prince sighed, looking down at the shard of ceramic plate tucked in his hand.

“Sebek.” He called for the guard who straightened up too much. “You’re dismissed, I can handle this on my own.”

“But Master—.”

He folded his hands over his chest, the arching brows giving the younger guard the entire message in one go. He reluctantly bowed his head, “Understood.” And left for another route but not without turning his head to Malleus one last time.

Now that he was alone, Malleus let out another sigh. As years go by, his heart becomes no stranger to loss but time did not ease the pain no matter how long or how distant the memories were. Raising Silver brought on emotions he did not expect to feel in a very long time, this human boy once so fragile and small grew to be one of the greatest guards he could ever hope to raise.

And it all happened too fast.

It made him protective, even hesitant to let Silver into any harm even if he was raised to be his guard.

“Silver, come here.”

A young boy held his robes over his knees, the sore wound red after tripping over sharp rocks. Malleus’ hand hovered over his wound, healing it shut but the pain still remained. It wouldn’t be long until Silver was taken into his arms and resting against his shoulder that his heart felt a sudden warmth, contentedness.

Lilia smiled at him where he stood and turned to leave, giving them privacy. The young boy’s small hands held Malleus’ robes into his palms with a sigh and the prince stroked his back. The warmth in his heart never stopped no matter how many years hand passed.

Yet the bitterness of lost time always found its way back.

“Silver.” The piece of plate in his glove suddenly felt more sentimental than once perceived.

“Please let us cook again.” All of you had bowed your heads in front of the ghost who was getting ready to leave for the afterlife. “Ah but—.”

“Please, I won’t fall asleep this time…Or break a plate…Or burn myself…Or—.” Silver was promptly stopped at the ghost’s laughter. “I understand, I’m in no hurry to leave but since this request is so sudden, I’ll have to relegate all the cleaning to you. It’s only fair.”

You, Jamil and Silver smiled together and the ghost only felt warmth at the spry young people in front of him. “Riddle.” He turned to the redhead. “Please show them where the meat is being stored.”

“Of course. This way, all of you.”

“We’re gonna cook, we’re gonna cook!!!” You say, pushing Silver’s shoulders as you walked to the freezer.

“They’re a bit too excited, aren’t they?” Riddle asked Jamil who only shrugged his shoulders.

“That’s just who they are.”

The comfortable silence was long and the students were cutting up their greens just as the meat seared in the pan. “Back home, my grandma taught me all the recipes I needed to know to keep the family going.” You’d explain, peeling the potato perfectly and handing it to Riddle to be cut. “Once a month, we’d have a big get-together and cook our favorite foods and eat it.”

Silver set aside the chopped onion, washing his hands knowing what happened to Riddle when he didn’t. The meat was taken and in came the vegetables into the pot. “Okay, we should stir fry the vegetables for a moment and let it cook.” Riddle says, tipping his toes to look into the pot.

“I’ve mostly cooked for necessity.” Jamil explained, leaning against the sink with a smirk. “But I can see the charm of being able to cook with or without help. It’s calming.”

Riddle sighs and begins to add water into the pot along with the meat and seasoning. “It was only recently that I started cooking, can’t say that it’s fun but the end result is rewarding. I want to perfect my skill as much as possible. I can’t always rely on others or on magic all my life.”

“What about you, Silver?” You ask, moving to cover the pot to let everything simmer.

“…My father’s cooking is not very good.”

There was collective sigh of understanding, you pat his back knowing he went seventeen years of this. “But he tries very hard,” He explains further. “More than anyone else in the Valley of Thorns. He’d cook for everyone he took care of despite the packed schedule he has.”

He remembers Lilia slaving away over a cauldron one night all those years ago, plates of mushrooms and prepared rice around him and a cookbook floating overhead. His fingers were bandaged and eyes trained to the book. Mushroom Risotto. Silver’s favorite dish.

“While I do want to cook for myself, I also want my father to enjoy tasty meals whenever he can. It’s only right that he does.” You smile, leaning your head against his shoulder while your hand rub the other one. “You’re a sweet person, Silver.”

“I’m just doing the right thing.” He reasoned.

“And that’s the sweetest thing anyone can do.”

Silver wasn’t telling the entire truth, he shamefully admitted to himself. While his father, his family, meant so much to him; you had a special place in his heart. The way you spoke to him, the way your presence soothed him, everything about you was something he cherished.

Just seeing you smile was enough to last him the day.

While he wanted his father to enjoy yummy meals by his son, he also wanted you to smile with each bite.

But he can’t say that, no, he shouldn’t. It would ruin the surprise and bitter the meal.

“It should be ready.” Riddle says, placing a protective cloth over the lid and pulling it open. Silver could not hide his smile when you let out a sound of amazement, the smell of cooked beef and the spices made your mouth water.

“I wanna try a bite.” You say but Jamil had to pull you away. “Let it cool,” He says like a tired older brother. “You’re going to burn your tongue.”

“But I wanna taste!”

Riddle sighs, shaking his head. “Let us at least plate it and have it judged.”

Your whining voice was met with a pat on the head and the food was whisked away to be plated and presented to the Jamil and then you. Silver’s huffed when you let out a sigh of delight when they delicious looking food was set in front of you.

“Dig in, both of you.” Riddle said. “Tell me what you think.”

Utensils brushed against each other and the anticipation built up when you and Jamil took a bite. You squealed at the taste, tiny jumps on your feet when the flavor exploded in your mouth. “It’s good!” You exclaim. “The balance is just right and the meat is so tender.”

Jamil nods his head, taking in another bite of the stew. “It’s good, you need to be careful with how you handle your seasonings next time. Too much of anything can ruin the dish but your method of tenderizing the meat is good and your vegetables are cooked and stewed perfectly. Good work.”

Riddle and Silver smiled to themselves, their chests beaming with pride at a job well done. You move forward, bringing your spoon to Silver’s lips. “Say ah!” You say and his cheeks go pink, you were too close and by the seven, you looked so cute.

“I—.”

“Ah!”

The spoon went into his mouth with a surprised expression, the taste of meat and the knowledge that spoon was used by you before him made his heart flutter. An indirect kiss. He chewed, his hand over his lips. “It’s yummy right? You cook really well.”

Your smile melted his heart, his shoulders hunching over and lips pursed. “Thank you. If you’d like, I can try other recipes for you.” He offered and you gleefully nodded your head and holding your hands to his. “Yes, yes! I’d absolutely love that.”

Jamil leaned over to Riddle, whispering “Smooth.”

The dorm leader chuckled. “Indeed.”

Silver stood next to you, speaking about the food you ate and sharing in the sweet clarity of a wish he didn’t know came true.

The ghost floated afar, settling just under the tree with Malleus by his side. The two watched the youth eating their creations in the kitchen, being merry and experimenting, discussing and playful. Silver’s smile was soft compared to yours but the playful personality of a young boy growing was still there.

The ceramic shard sat inside the hold of the heir apparent, the green eyes seeing world after world basking in the new reality of one he had held so dear. “He’s grown, hasn’t he?” he asked the ghost. “He has, indeed.”

You hugged Silver’s arm laughing, Malleus’ heart beating slow in tenderness for the smiling boy who stood beside you.

“To think he had troubles holding up your hammer all those years ago.”

The ghost laughed, bringing his hands behind his back. “It had been that long, hasn’t it, your majesty?”

Silver stood next to you, his wish finally fulfilled.

“Long enough to for time to pass by like in a blink of an eye.”

[siegelst]

Anonymous asked [

Curiosity - Passage of time [ Day 30 - escape] by Anonymous

Rated Explicit Mature 18+

clothes kink, major size kink, voice kink, karl has part lycan in him, scent-marking, tits, Karl's new roommate tries to escape.

warning: don’t know German but using google instead, sorry.

Day 30  - Escape

"Foreigners seem to have broke in your factory." said mother Miranda.  I scoff at this siting back with legs spread out, puffed a cigar. A faint echo of panic went through me. But I had a lie ready to recited. Believe in the lie. It’s been a month since that happened and now she discovers it.  "Why haven't you alerted me of these people?"

"Cause it’s very easy. They all dead! They f*cken died the day they broke into my factory." I barked, waving around my cigar in my left hand.  "I would think super size bi^ch would have said something after i left their bodies outside her door,"

"Only 1 out of the 5 you gave me was good." said super size bi^ch.  

"Oh? No thank you for me?" I sneered back, leaning forward.

"I thought there were 6?" muttered fish freak.

"You'll can't have all the fun! I wanted fun. So I used the last one before she met her end to Sturm." I gloat as i sit back, blew smoke before saying "She screamed wonderfully."

"Ugg you horrible disgusting man thing." She screeched.  I rolled my eyes as i puffed my cigar.  As if she wasn't taking in maidens in to do live experiments and have them bleed dry for her wine.  At least when i do experiments they are dead subjects. Device on me, made a noise. Motherf*cker. The meeting didn't end until 20 minutes later. 

female p.o.v.

After managing to pick the lock,  I started for the elevator before studying the map of the factory.   I went for the stairs that went down.  I ran into some rooms, some had medical tables.  having no idea where i was even if i had a map with me. I get lost easily.  If i find more stairs i get out of here right?  

The factory was noisy and the temperature was getting hot humid.  An Hour later i was still going through random halls. 30 minutes later i’m falling into a pit full of metal scraps. I climbed through the wreckage before finding a ladder high up.  I had to jump to the first bar before pulling up and walked along the metal beam. To find a landing with a machine with a level on it. I pushed it down. Nothing happened. Darn. Must not be enough energy.  

I found another walk beam that connects to main flooring. 20 minutes later i was in end of hallway before I looked down to see a bars blocking a tunnel that could be moved. After pulling i finally get it to move before crawling through the cobwebs tunnel.  I hear static as if from out of tune radio as i pulled myself out.  Ending up in a narrowed hall.  

"Oh Buttercup, you better not be escaping. I will find you." Oh no i thought he was gone for the day. As i crept toward other end of hall, go through another room, to see one his creation to be laying on table behind cage fence.  I couldn't get through.  "Best to turn yourself in and no one gets hurt"

Maybe i could break down the cage fence. Or go back into the tunnel. a snicker was heard. "You're lost again, buttercup?"  

I went back through the tunnel before going down a hallway. Crap, didn't i go through here before? I’m back in the rooms where medical tables at again, second guessing myself.  I open 1 door to see the walls littered with various sharp knives  and saws before closing it.   "You going in circles, darling.  You're lost! admit it!"

"Shut up"  I muttered as I started to try any door to get away. A booming laugh echo though the speakers. I took too many turns and find myself falling falling down until hitting cold water. 

I gasped & cough after resurfacing.  It was dark where I’m at. I find stable ground to pull myself out of the water and looked up to see how far I fallen. pretty dam* far apparently. Looks like I’m at rock bottom. I didn’t hear boss over the speakers. Maybe the speakers don’t reach down here?  walked some steps away before remembering i did have my phone on me. turning on the flashlight feature - i moved it around to see where i was.  Seems like these metals were abandon and i could see a old motorbike connected to a tank wheels, but didn’t seem to be finished yet.   I moved around some more before accidentally bump into a metal contraption.  Stepping back and walking around it i could make out that the metal contraption was a metal horse. Now that is neat and pretty. if only boss makes something like this instead of using dead bodies.

I turn around the humongous room before pausing to see shoes. for a second i thought it was my boss. but noticing that the shoes look old, ripped, and way bigger than his, and hearing a animal growl got my heart in my throat. Moving the light up up up to barely see a hairy man with the wildest mane of a lion that been fried from the snow.  I gulped and started backing up. I barely make out the sharp fangs, canines, the ripped clothes and the blood splatter on him and the gigantic hammer he was holding only shown slightly when reflected from the light cause the flashlight can only go so far. The dude looks to be 13 ft tall. I met my first lycan.  

The lycan picked me up in one hand, looked back to see the floor getting further further away, as i turn back to be inspected by the lycan. i raised my arms to cover my face. hearing the loud sniffing sounds filled my ears before we were interrupted by a voice.

“Now now Urias, don’t eat her.” said my boss, his voice dripping like hot caramel, as lights began to flicker on.  I see the lycan clearer and more terrifying, see metal scraps floating around  the room and see. . . my boss - using the metal scraps to walk down to us like a escalator. I glanced at the lycan as if to say ‘You seeing what i’m seeing?’. the lycan gave the an unimpressed look.  Boss landed on the ground, walking towards us, talking lower, his eyebrows raised up slightly. “Give her to me Urias. Now.”

There seem to be a warning in the way he spoke that line. If i had looked around I would noticed something was aiming at the lycan. but was too busy looking at the teeth on the guy. they were smeared with blood. The lycan didn’t want to for some odd reason. I’m cold from the water being held up 12-13 feet in the air by a lycan and I’m tired, and my shock is almost over so i could scream anytime.  I covered my face again as the lycan went near to sniff at me again before feeling something run up my face quickly, warm wet. . . . did the lycan just licked me??  Feeling i was being lowered before boss snatch me back, shoving me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. was it me or did he sighed in relief? nah my tired mind just playing tricks on me. “Thank you Urias. Go back to your den.”

He turned away to walk somewhere. I push on his back to glanced back at the large lycan, he was still standing there and the hammer was huge, dripping with blood against the floor. sh*t maybe boss was worried about the lycan eating me.

I was back at square one in the cell as boss threw me onto the old mattress. Leaning over me, his hand grip my face, him furious.

"You’re dam* lucky that Urias didn’t see you as wolf chow, Buttercup.” He hissed at me. His forearm was hot against my wet cloths. “Otherwise I be mopping up your remains of your bones if it wasn’t.”

A metal chain cuff clicked my ankle. He pulled me right up against him my body leaving the bed slightly. “How the F*ck did you get out?”

I narrowed my eyes at him, giving him the look of ‘I ain’t telling you.’.  Next thing i know i was, thrown over his thighs  - his thighs against my stomach and felt a hard smack on my backside. D-did he just spank me?? once the shock of him spanking me I start to yell and struggling but he wasn’t budging.  He was yelling in German.

Heisenberg. p.o.v. 

The bi*ch brought this on onto herself. i thought as I laid a harsh hand against her cloth backside. “Du undankbare Schlampe, du hättest getötet werden können von Urias. Oh, jetzt bist du wütend? naja ich bin es auch. Hör auf herumzuschlagen, Scheiße.” 

Finally i get to see my new roommate mad. she was drench from her trip in the water channel, wetting my clothes in result of it. Her cloths sticking to her like second skin leaving nothing to my imagination. view of her nipples perked through her thin layer of tank top and my button up shirt dripping with excess water onto the cell floor. I pulled her back by her hair to drag her up to see if she’ll tell me. she shook her head.  Darling i could do this all day. I felt myself stiffen. Her cries and angry shouts means nothing.

Knowing where she was roughly when she fell, still didn’t stop my heart skip in panic. Arriving to sight of her in the hands of a12 ft lycan in the air, water glistening on her skin, her collarbone, neck, face, her tits tightening due to the cold, practically begging to be touch, and seeing Urias taking an interest in her was enough for me to start sweating. Of course she runs into the tallest lycan there is.

Her shocked face was barely make out with Urias hand snaked around her middle easily. F*ck even I was getting nervous. Urias licking her was a heart-stopping - almost had me shoot a rod between the bunny and the giant wolf. as he lowered the lass back to me, gave me huge relief she was back to me unharmed. her wet body bumping against my back, shoulders and chest as i stomped back to the cell was torture. I was brought to present as her finally breaking, sobbing over my lap. I felt myself twitch. 

“How the F*CK did you get out?” I growled, my hand cupping her under her chin to raise her up. I feel burn of her skin, my forearm brush against her tits briefly, making my cock jump in interests.  

“Bobby pin.” she hiccuped, trying not to cry in front of me. I glanced down toward the door of the cell, and sure enough see a non-metal bobby pin on the ground.

I shoved her off my lap, her hitting to cold cell floor, another chain attached to her other leg, her cold body shaking. I nudge her so she lay on her back, and pressed my shoe lightly onto the side of her stomach. She looked up at me in daze confused as she glanced at my shoe worriedly, her body displayed for me. before I removed my foot.

“Better get comfortable Buttercup” I said, as I stood, walked out of the cell. “You going to be here for a while.” 

Closed the cell, after obtaining the bobby pin and walked out of the room, ignoring her yapping, I have business to take care of.

translation:

You ungrateful bi*tch, you could have been killed by Urias. oh now you're angry? well so am I. Quit thrashing around, f*ck

[newvegascowboy]

i am. once again requesting red and arcade content because I am obsessed

how about.... “i didn’t know where else to go.” / “i didn’t have anywhere else to go.” ?

oh hell yeah ofc <3 sorry this took me 100 years, i was having Writer Moments

minor warning for suggestive content. not like a lot but being safe, y'know.

Several things happen in succession that Arcade would consider small miracles.

First, he makes it across the street. Second, he has enough dexterity left to heave the heavy brass doors of the Lucky 38 open, and third, his vision stops swimming enough that it only takes him two tries to hit the correct button on the elevator.

He sighs as the doors start to slide closed, his back hitting the wall. The elevator lurches under Arcade's feet and his stomach flips. He lifts a hand, rubbing at his eyes and trying to ignore the throbbing in his head that's only intensifying at the mellow muzak playing in the elevator. His mouth taste like bad whiskey, and his clothes smell like even worse cologne. Every muscle in Arcade's body feels like it's buzzing, and not in a good way. Fuck this day. And fuck his decision making, while he's at it.

The doors ding quietly, sliding open. Arcade stares blearily at the ceiling for a moment, listening to the faint click on, click off of the blinking light on the number pad. He lifts his head, staring into Red's apartment.

The suite is mostly dark except for a dim yellow light filtering in from the living room. It's quiet, too - Red usually has a record playing, somewhere. Now all Arcade can hear is the faint whistle of wind from beyond the presidential suite walls. Maybe Red isn't even home. That would certainly make this less embarrassing.

Staggering forward, Arcade leans against the wall, trying to keep himself upright. His hip knocks against a table. The legs squeal across the ground, breathtakingly loud in the darkness of Red's apartment. Arcade hisses, reaching out to steady the table. He hesitates for a moment, listening to the gentle ambient noise of the apartment before taking another few creeping steps towards the living room.

Down the hall, a door bangs open. Arcade sighs, propping himself against the wall. Red appears in the hallway a moment later, looking wild eyed, hair still mussed from sleep. They're in nothing but a pair of loose fitting sweatpants, but their revolver is in hand, the hammer pulled back. Red relaxes upon seeing him, tension falling out of their shoulders.

"Arcade?" they ask, lifting a hand to push hair off their forehead. "What the hell are you doing here? It's the middle of the night."

"Sorry," Arcade says, leaning heavily against the wall. He lifts a hand in an aborted wave. "I didn't know where else to go."

Red squints at him. "Are you drunk?"

"Very." Arcade blinks. "Can you help me?"

A soft, incredulous chuckle escapes Red's lips. Shaking their head, Red pads towards him. They disengage the hammer on their revolver and drop it on the coffee table amidst the pile of magazines and old coffee mugs. They gesture at Arcade, gently grabbing him by the bicep to haul him up.

"Gotta admit, that was pretty dumb," Red says. "I could've shot you."

"You could've shot me many times," Arcade says, throwing an arm around Red's middle. Red starts to maneuver him around the living room to the couch. "And you would've if you really wanted to."

"Isn't it always you who's telling me not to test my luck?"

Arcade grunts, glancing away. Instead of answering, he looks Red up and down. "Where's your shirt?" he asks, foot snagging the leg of a chair. Red's grip tightens around him, keeping him upright. Arcade leans into them. "Oh my god, you don't have - have company here, do you?"

Red laughs shortly. "No, I don't," they say. "Here, sit."

Releasing Red, Arcade drops onto the couch. He huffs, grimacing as the room spins around him. Red takes a seat on the coffee table opposite him, leaning forward to rest on their knees. They eye him, a slightly amused furrow to their brow.

Arcade blinks placidly, feeling sedate and quite unwilling to move now that he isn't in danger of falling. Red looks softer for whatever reason - either the mellow light, or strands of hair hanging over their forehead softening the severe scar cutting across their eyebrow. They aren't wearing their sunglasses for once, both eyes on display. Arcade tries not to stare, but his eyes linger on their face. Faint freckles dust the bride of their nose.

He glances down, following the jut of their collarbone to where their shoulder curves down. A silver chain is looped around Red's neck, a crucifix pendant dangling against their bare chest. Arcade stares at it - or he stares at Red's skin, striped here and there with old scars or freckles. His eyes keep trailing down, to the plane of their stomach and where the waistband of their sweatpants is clinging to their hips.

He shouldn't be shocked at the sight. Red is - perhaps infamously - not shy about showing off their own body. They have little reason to be. Arcade has seen them without a shirt on a hundred times, and in far more risque positions. He knows that Red is fit. Lean, but not so much as to be wiry. And tall.

A snap. "Arcade?"

Arcade's eyes flick back up to Red's face. Heat rushes up the back of his neck, turning the tips of his ears pink. "Hm?"

"You alright?" Red asks mildly. "Lost you for a minute."

"I'm unwell," Arcade says, feeling faint.

"Don't throw up," Red warns, leaning back a little as Arcade grabs for a pillow.

Arcade buries his face in it, biting his tongue. He suppresses a groan. "I won't," he says, voice muffled. He slumps to the side, hitting the arm of the couch.

Red chuckles quietly, a noise that just makes Arcade squeeze the pillow tighter. What is wrong with him? "I have a feeling you won't be making it down the street," they say, pushing themselves to their feet.

"I'm impressed with myself that I made it across the street," Arcade mutters, listening as Red pads to the kitchen. With Red gone, the feeling fades, and Arcade slowly untucks his nose from the pillow.

Red rummages in a cupboard for a moment, and then Arcade hears a faucet run. A moment later, they're back, pressing a glass of water into his hand. Arcade continues, bringing the glass to his lips. "Without dying or being mugged."

"You don't exactly look like a high roller," Red says shrewdly.

Arcade's eyes crack open. "What's that supposed to mean?"

In response, Red's eyes flick down and back up, no doubt taking in Arcade's unwashed lab coat and the button up he's been wearing the last three days. Arcade sniffs, turning his head. He lifts the glass to his lips again. "I've looked worse. And so have you, so I better not see a soapbox."

Red nods sagely. "Of course."

Arcade wrinkles his nose. Red just rolls their eyes, an exasperated and somehow undeniably fond smile on their face. "You are in danger of soaking yourself and my furniture," Red says, reaching out to take the glass as Arcade leans to the side. They set it on the coffee table beside them, replacing their elbows on their knees.

"What's the occasion, anyway?" Red asks.

"Huh?"

Red gestures at him. "You, three sheets to the wind. It's not usually your style, unless you've been holding out on me and you're actually fun."

"No," Arcade says, dropping his head back to the couch cushions. He lifts a hand, scrubbing at his face beneath the rim of his glasses. His knuckle smudges across one lens and he sighs. "It's... an anniversary."

Humming, Red leans forward, hooking a finger around the earpiece of Arcade's glasses and tugging them off his face. They fold them up, setting them on the edge of the coffee table. "Not a good one, I take it."

Arcade huffs darkly, thinking of Navarro and all the old soldiers who'd raised him. They'd always been morose this time of year, but none more so than his mother. No doubt the Enclave remnants are out in the desert right now doing just the same as him. His mother probably would be too, if she were still alive.

Growing up, this day had always been punctuated with bitter stories even angrier outbursts. He'd hated it so much as a teenager, and here he is - contributing. Just like he has every year.

"No," Arcade finally says with a quiet sigh. "Definitely not."

He leaves it there. Red, for once, seems to realize that Arcade won't be forthcoming. They drop the subject, letting the silence linger between the two of them.

After a moment, Red plants their hands on the coffee table and pushes themselves up. "In the interest of not babysitting," they start. "I'm going back to bed. If you wake up needing to hurl, please do so quietly."

Red takes a step away from the living room, pausing by the couch to turn out the lamp on the end table. The sudden darkness does nothing to ease the throbbing in Arcade's temples. He squeezes his eyes shut, sighing.

"Red," he says, and Red's footsteps pause.

"Yeah?" they ask. They're standing by the doorway, a few feet away from where Arcade is lying on the couch.

"Thanks," Arcade rasps.

Red shifts, head tilting. They offer a small, tired smile. "No problem, Arcade."

"You wouldn't actually ever kick me out, would you?"

"I will if you wake me up again," Red says.

Arcade smiles, lifting a thumbs up. Red turns, disappearing down the hall. "Goodnight," they call.

"Night," Arcade calls back, somewhat feebly.

Down the hall, Red's door latches quietly.

[buckleyy--diazz]

Second untitled Sambucky fic aka Claudia sucks at title but she wants to post her fic so please enjoy some Bucky getting "accidentally" high and Sam being the best as always

(Also please note that I started writing this way before Bucky moved to Delacroix and Sam became Cap so yes they are sharing an apartment in NY, it's not relevant to the story anyway)

Now please, enjoy x

***

Sam woke up to the sound of someone breaking into the apartment he shared with Bucky. His eyes flew open when he heard a loud bang, probably the front door crashing into the wall. His first instinct was to grab the gun he kept in the drawer of his bedside table, you could never be too careful. Immediately Sam thought of Bucky, he needed to protect Bucky. Millions of scenarios were running through his head like what if a rogue HYDRA agent found Bucky and came to kidnap him?

Sam carefully opened his bedroom door and padded along the corridor as silently as possible. Their apartment was silent, too silent and whoever had broken into the apartment was probably waiting around the corner to attack. Sam’s heart was hammering in his chest. He realized Bucky had not moved from his bedroom, the door was closed and he could see the light from the night lamp filtering at the bottom of the door. It wasn’t normal, surely all the noises would have woken up Bucky, Sam knew he was a light sleeper if he slept at all. Sam was hit by a wave of nausea at the thought they already got Bucky.

Suddenly Sam heard a giggle, it seemed like it was coming from the kitchen.

What the fuck?

Sam walked in slowly and turned on the light, hoping to surprise anyone who was in the kitchen and keep the upper hand. Sam was prepared for anything, really. He was prepared to fight HYDRA agents but not the sight of Bucky sitting on the kitchen floor, eating chips and giggling for apparently no reason.

“Sam!,” Bucky yelled excitedly when he noticed him, “Why the gun? Are we in danger?” he asked, laughing.

“What the fuck, man? I thought we were being attacked, I thought someone came here to kidnap you,” Sam whispered-shout because the last thing they needed was to wake up one of their neighbors and for them to call the cops.

“I was hungry,” Bucky replied, ignoring Sam’s little rant. He patted the linoleum floor, motioning Sam to join him. Sam rolled his eyes but he locked the gun and put it away before sitting next to Bucky, his back against the cabinets. Sam winced as the cold floor touched his thighs, reminding him he was half-naked. Sam wanted to laugh at how ridiculous the situation was but he was still half-mad at Bucky for making him worry like that.

“Chips?” Bucky offered and Sam reached for the bag. Bucky giggled again when their fingers brushed through the bag. Something was off. Bucky did not giggle. He laughed sometimes but he did not giggle like a teen girl in front of her crush.

“Buck? Are you high?” Sam questioned, “How the hell did that happen? You cannot even get drunk!”

Bucky nodded, “I didn’t know it was possible,” he explained, “so when Leah offered me a “special” brownie I thought I would not feel anything or that it would wear off as quickly as alcohol.”

Sam shook his head and sighed.

“Who is Leah and why did she offer you drugs?”

“She’s a-,” Bucky hesitated, “she’s a friend, she works at the sushi place. Sometimes we meet up after closing and we play board games and talk.”

“You never mentioned her before, and that doesn’t explain how the drug affected you,” Sam said, trying to push away the jealous feeling growing inside of him. Now was not the time.

“I have no idea, I know the serum can make my body process things like alcohol faster but it can also enhance things so I guess drug is one of the things I won’t be doing again. And Leah, she’s just a friend Sam. She doesn’t know about me, about my past. For her, I’m just James, it’s nice you know.”

Yes, Sam knew. He could relate. Sometimes he missed simply being Sam Wilson, not The Falcon, not The Avenger, just Sam.

“Okay, don’t go all emo on me because you’re high, Barnes,” Sam joked and Bucky glared but there was no heat behind it.

“You have really pretty eyes,” Bucky said, changing the subject so fast it almost gave Sam whiplash. Bucky shuffled closer to Sam, his jeans brushing against Sam’s naked thigh.

“Uh, thanks?” Sam replied.

“You’re badass,” Bucky continued, “you never hesitate when there’s a battle, you’re always ready. You barged in here thinking I was being attacked.”

Sam blushed.

“You believe in me, you believe I can be a good person and that my past does not define me and you believe it so much that I almost believe it too.”

Sam opened his mouth but Bucky cut him off.

“No, let me finish, please. I’ve wanted to tell you for a while and never had the courage. You did not hesitate to start searching for me when Steve asked. You hated me and you still did it because you’re a damn good person Sam Wilson. You saved me and I will forever be grateful for it.”

“Told you to not go all emo on me,” Sam joked, trying to not show Bucky how much his words were affecting him, “but, you’re welcome. I’m happy I saved you.”

Bucky put his hand, the metal one, on Sam’s thigh, Sam shivered unsure if it was because of the cold feeling or because Bucky was touching him and his hand was suddenly very close to his dick.

“I’m done spilling all my feelings on you,” laughed Bucky, “your skin is really soft,” Bucky continued, his fingers tracing circles on Sam’s inner thigh.

“How do you know?” Sam asked, nodding toward the vibranium hand.

“The captors in my arm make it feel almost like my regular hand.”

“Oh yeah?” Sam smirked, “you ever tried on-”

“You’re a pervert Sam Wilson, do you often think about me jerking off?”

“No, I don’t,” Sam lied, hoping Bucky wouldn’t notice and call him out. Truth was, Sam probably thought about Bucky naked and sweaty, his skin flushed and moaning with a hand wrapped tightly around his dick more than it was healthy.

“You’re a shit liar, Wilson,” Bucky whispered, his hand sliding higher on Sam’s thigh. If Sam thought Bucky’s hand was close to his dick earlier, it was nothing like now, and Sam bit the inside of his cheek, reminding himself Bucky was high.

“Look at me, Sam,” Bucky pleaded, his voice soft.

Sam swallowed loudly, he turned his head slowly and Bucky’s face was a few centimeters away.

“I really want to kiss you, Sam.”

Sam closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

“I- I can’t Buck, I’m sorry.”

In a second Bucky’s hand was off Sam’s thigh and Bucky was storming off the kitchen and despite how fast it happened, Sam had not missed the hurt look in Bucky’s eyes. Bucky’s bedroom door slammed and Sam winced. He felt like an asshole.

Sam got up from the floor and put the bag of chips away. He needed to talk to Bucky, he needed to explain himself. Sam took the gun from the counter and turned off the lights behind him. Once in his room, he put it back in the bedside table drawer and searched for a pair of sweatpants.

Sam knocked gently on Bucky’s bedroom door, calling his name,

“Buck, please, we need to talk. Please, can you open our door, I know you’re not sleeping.”

“There’s nothing to talk about, everything was perfectly clear Sam.”

“No, it’s not, please let me in. I need to see you, I cannot do this through your bedroom door.”

Bucky didn’t say anything and Sam started to walk toward his bedroom, defeated when Bucky opened his door.

“You have five minutes.”

“You’re high-”

“Not so much anymore,” interrupted Bucky, “felt like someone dropped a cold bucket of water on my head ten minutes ago.”

“Let me finish, please. You’re high or were, the point is I really like you Bucky, more than you probably realize, and I really really want to kiss you too. Believe me. But doing this while your judgment is impaired, I cannot do that. Too many people took advantage of you in your life and I won’t be one of these people.”

Bucky blinked but said nothing.

“I said what I needed to say, I’ll go back to my room now.”

Sam turned around and Bucky grabbed his wrist and pulled Sam toward him.

“You’re a good man Sam, too good for me.”

“Believe me when I say it takes me everything to not jump you right now, Buck.”

“Then what are you waiting for?”

“I told you Bucky, I can’t but if tomorrow you still feel the same…”

Bucky nodded.

“Sleep with me? Just sleeping, I swear I’ll be good,” Bucky whispered, his lips moving against the shell of Sam’s ear.

“You’re a demon, Barnes,” Sam replied but he followed Bucky inside the bedroom. He laid down and Bucky took the place next to him, wrapping his arms around Sam’s waist. They were asleep in a second.

Sam woke up to the sound of birds singing and the sun hitting him in the face. Bucky’s body was still pressed against his and Sam felt warm and content. He could get used to waking up like that.

“You’re staring,” yawned Sam without opening his eyes. How are you feeling today?”

“Very sober,” answered Bucky leaning over Sam, his hands on each side of Sam’s head. Sam finally opened his eyes and Bucky was a few inches away, looking intensely at Sam. Bucky pushed the comforter away and straddled Sam’s hips and Sam swallowed.

“So? Do you still-”

Bucky nodded and Sam couldn’t wait any longer, he brought his hand up, placing it behind Bucky’s neck. Sam smiled softly and gently pressed his lips against Bucky. They were soft and warm and Bucky moaned when Sam slipped his tongue in his mouth. Bucky moved his hand and put it behind Sam’s head, keeping him as close as he could. Bucky's kisses were intoxicating and better than anything Sam had ever imagined. They kissed until their lips felt raw and their stomachs growled. Bucky laughed into the kiss and let himself fall next to Sam.

Sam turned on his side and kissed Bucky again, now that he was allowed to do it he never wanted to stop but their stomachs growled again and Sam sighed.

“How about we make breakfast and then come back here because I am not finished with you,” Bucky said and Sam smiled widely.

“I like the way you think.”

[ndoandou]

🎹A Lonely Steamy Night🎹

Pairing: Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart x F!MC

Warning: rated 18, GARBAGE ENGLISH

Contents: masturbation, vaginal sex, creampie, love making

@kbiscuits here you go dear!

It was night time. MC was in her bedroom, laying down under her cozy sheets. Her lover, mozart was busy composing. He had been busy for a few days and MC was getting real lonely.

She wanted to give mozart some space so he could concentrate better on his composition, in fact it was MCs idea to stay away from him. Now shes regretting that decision because she missed him a lot emotionally and.. sexually.

Just thinking about those steamy nights made her body heat up, her nether regions especially.

"Hngh.." MC moaned silently as her thoughts became wild. She couldnt ignore her thoughts anymore.

She trailed her hands into her underwear, touching her slit, feeling her wetness againsts her fingers...

.

.

Meanwhile in mozart's room...

Mozart slammed his quill furiously as he crumpled up the music sheet he was composing on.

He exhaled sharply as he gazed down towards his tight pants. His member had been buldging furiously against his pants for a while and it had distracted him awfully. Instead of music flowing throught his mind, it was his desire and longing for MC. He understood that MC wanted to give him his own space for his own sake, but he couldnt carry on like this.

As much as he wanted to see MC, he figured that she would be asleep at this time

Mozart glanced once more onto his raging member, constricted in his pants. Frustration was painted on his face.

"Damn it, guess i have no choice" mozart muttered under his breath, annoyed.

He unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned his pants, allowing his throbbing member to spring out. He was clearly energetic down there as precum was already leaking. He snaked his hand towards tip masaging it gently as he thought of his sweetheart MC.

"Mmh.." mozart groaned lowly, feeling the pleassure build up in his nether regions

He started pumping his member gently, imagining that he was making endless love to MC.

Once he had enough of the gentle strokes, he fasten his pace, feeling his release coming closer than expected. His fantasies grew wilder and wilder every second.

"Ngh..!" Mozart groaned out as he released violently onto the palm of his left hand.

He was panting a bit as he released fairly hard, due to not doing it with MC for a few days. He stared at his now soiled hand and exhaled shamefully. He felt wrong touching himself to the thought of her for some reason.

Mozart quickly cleaned off his hand with a hankerchief and tossed it into his washing.

"Maybe a cup of coffee will fix things.." mozart mumbled, fixing himself up and walked out of his room.

.

.

Mozart had fixed himself a cup of coffee and proceeded on going back to her room when he heard strange noises coming from MC's room

"Ngh..haaa.. mozart.."

Mozart froze in his tracks almost dropping his cup of coffee

"Is she.." mozart thought to himself as his cheeks slowly grew red, which soon was replaced by a shy smirk.

He placed his coffee down on the vase table, knocking onto MC's door

"*knock* MC..?" Mozart knocked and called her name, pretending to not know what she was doing

This of course, scared the living hell out of mc causing her to almost jolt out of bed

"Y-yes?!" MC yelped, trying to tidy herself up quickly, hiding the fact that she was doing.. things

"May i come in meine liebe?" He asked sweetly, trying to hide his playfull tone

"O-okay.." MC said as she clutched her blankets

Mozart opened the door and closed it behind him. He slowly approached MC who clearly looked as if she was hiding something. He sat on her bed. His gentle smile twisted into a playfull smirk

"I heard what you were doing schatzi.." mozart said playfully causing mc to gasp in embarrasment

"Why didnt you tell me that you needed me that much..?" Mozart asked as he got closer to her, slowly traling his hand onto MC's face, cupping it.

"B-but i felt bad for bothering you.." MC admitted shyly

"Dont worry about it, even i was left alone with my thoughts and well.. i acted on those thoughts" mozart said still with a playful tone but with a pink tint on his cheeks

MC understood what he meant causing her face to burst red.

"Heh.." mozart chuckled softly as he leaned towards MC's lips giving it a deep kiss, tongues dancing against each other.

His once soft member had started throbbing violently againsts his pants again just from teasing his lover.

"Ngh..!" Mc moaned into his mouth. Mozart slowly pushed her down onto the bed, straddling her without breaking the kiss.

If MC was moist earlier, at this point she was dripping wet, especially feeling his lover's buldge against her thigh.

Eventually they broke the kiss with a trail of saliva connected to their lips. Mozart gave MC a quick peck on her neck earning a tiny moan from her.

His hands trailed from her delicate face towards her breast. He gave her breasts a gentle massage, occasionally squeezing her erected nipples through her thin night gown

"A-ah..!" MC moaned out slightly feeling her breasts being stimulated. She could also feel her lover's member start to throb violently againsts her thigh.

MC didnt want to be the only one stimulated, so she decided to do something daring. She reached her hands towards his throbbing bulge, stroking it through his pants.

"Mmh..!" Mozart moaned out which he quickly put a hand to cover his mouth.

MC smiled shyly when she saw his reaction

"Let me make you feel good too.." MC said with a blush on her face

His heart skipped a beat, hearing his partner say such thing with a cute voice.

"Do you realize how cute you are being right now..?" Mozart whispered into her ear and gave it a nibble, causing MC to jolt. he unbuttoned his collar, "i dont think i can wait any longer meine liebe.." he continued with a husky voice

"Me neither.." MC admitted softly as she unbuttoned mozart's pants letting his member spring out. She gave the head a light massage feeling him twitch against her fingers

"Hah.. eager aren't we?" Mozart panted out with a playful smirk

Mozart brought his left hand down towards her lower parts. He pushed her panties to the side giving him a clear view of her drenched heat.

"Heh.. were u this.. mm.. wet when you were touching yourself earlier" mozart asked MC teasingly as he glider his thumb up and down her drenched slit causing her to buck her hips against his thumb.

"Ngh..! I..mm dont think so.." MC said as she choked back a moan, still touching his member which was now leaking with precum.

Mozart wanted to tease MC more

"So tell me.. what were you imagining..?" Mozart asked, teasing her

MC blushed and looked away, biting her lips in embarrasment

"W-well.. i imagined y-you kissing me and...." MC struggled to speak as she was too embarrased. She covered her face with her free hand

"Hehe.. dont worry MC, i was just mmh.. teasing you" mozart said as he chuckled, giving his embarrased lover a gentle peck on her cheek.

He gestured MC to pull her hand away from his member and scooted closer. He slowly peeled of MC's panties off and nudged his member againsts her entrance

"Do you want to know what i imagined meine liebe?" Mozart whispered into her ear, gliding his member up and down MC's slit, making sure to brush against her clitoris, earning soft moans from her. "I imagined burrying myself deep inside you, making endless love to you.." he continued with a seductive tone, slowly pushing himself inside of MC's wet heat. The way his member stretched her and the way MC's core tightened around him caused them both to moan out loudly. He used to restrict his own noises in the past. It took him a while to finally be able to make more noises in bed.

"Haah.. MC..." he moaned out into her ear "would you hah.. want me to go gentle or rough..?" He asked softly into her ear

"Hngh..please go rough mmm.. on me wolfie" MC said lewdly, causing mozart to tense up

"I would have find it hard to go gentle on you meine liebe.. especially after calling me by my first name" he said as he exhaled, feeling his desire building up

He started off with a slow yet fierce thrust, gradually picking up pace. He made sure to hit her sweet spot. Every thrust earned a loud moan from MC as she could feel him deep inside of her.

The pleasure they both felt was unreal. It always had felt unreal whenever they did it, but this time was beyond unreal, after not doing it together for a few days.

The way their sexes joined together with a slap, caused them both to make more noises when ever they were joined together. Moans and grunts filled up the room with the wet noises their sexes made. They didn't want this blissfull moment to end which is why mozart slowed his pace down.

"Wolfie..?" MC asked curiously as his lover thrusted into her slower than before

"Sorry MC.. i dont think i would have last long enough if i kept thrusting like that..i also want to make this moment more intimate for the two of us.." mozart admitted shyly

She found this side of him really adorable, which then she threw her arms around Mozart's neck. This sudden gesture surprised Mozart.

"I love you wolfie.." MC whispered

"I love you too meine engel.." mozart said as his face bursted red, from MC's cuteness

They took a moment to stare into eachothers eyes, sexes still connected to each other. The way mozart's amethyst orbs glimmered with love and passion made MC's heart flutter.

Their lips slowly connected unconciouslly, drowned in love and pleassure. Their soft lips gently pecking each other, feeling each others warm breath.

Their gentle kisses became heated and passionate, their toungues once again interwining. Unconciously, Mozart had pick up the pace, hammering himself roughly into MC , along side with the passionate kissing. Their moans were muffled into each others kiss.

"Im sorry liebe... i *grunt* wont last any longer.. may i finish inside of you?" Mozart asked sweetly, panting as he pulled away from the kiss.

"Ah..! Please do.. i love you wolfie..." MC said as she felt the knot in her nether regions start to snap.

Just the phrase " i love you wolfie" drove him feral. At this rate he was drilling into her heat with no mercy, causing loud moans and cries to erupt for MC's swolen lips. Mozart on the other hand was growling into her neck feeling himself lose control.

"K-Kiss me!" MC moaned out as she wrapped her legs onto his waist, which Mozart immideatly started kissing her roughly.

They both released, a scream of pleassure escaping from MC's mouth, feeling herself tremble at the sensation of her orgasm. Mozart had pushed himself deeply. He released deep inside of her, painting her insides white as he moaned loudly into her mouth.

They pulled away from the kiss with a wet sound, both panting as they recovered from their mind blowing ecstacy.

"Sorry if i was too rough on you mc" mozart said appolegetically as he pulled out from her core.

"Dont worry about it wolfie.." MC said as he pulled him into a sudden tight hug

.

.

.

Arthur walked down the halls with a cup of coffee in his hand, when he spotted a cup full of cold coffee resting on the vase table.

"By jove, who left their untouched coffee here?" He asked himself.

Thats when he heard questionable noises come from MC's room.

"My, my, seems like wolf abandoned his coffee for his dear MC" arthur said walking away as he chuckled.

.

.

.

AAAAA this one isn't my best work but i tried ;-; sorrtcif some parts here sounded awkward 😭

[yeochikin]

sick days. | j. yunho

a/n: phew i finally did it! this is a sequel to this fic but this can also be read as its own too! i won’t lie, i had so much trouble writing this. the amount of times i typed then erased then typed over and over again was a huge struggle for me in the past week, so i understand if this fic seemed a little... blegh ;;;; writer’s block sucks but it’s alright, i enjoyed writing it anyway hehe hope you enjoyed this. do excuse any mistakes as this has not been proofread ✨💖

word count: 3k+

main focus: yunho x fem. reader

warning(s): none, i think!

“tell me i'm hot.” 

“yeah, you're hot, yunho.”

“aye.”

“you have a fever.”

“aye?”

“say ‘aye’ one more time, and i’m gonna stab you with my paintbrush.”

“aye!”

your eye twitched at his answer, showing him the temperature you had taken for him. the boy in question, who was currently laid all tucked in bed with a wet cloth on his forehead, merely gave you a bright smile despite his face looking all flushed. sometimes, you wondered whether your roommate was literally a golden retriever in his past life who got reincarnated into a human, but still somehow having the energetic personality following his next life.

“little rose, you're gonna catch my fever too. i can take care of myself.” he protested, watching as you gathered the empty ceramic bowl that was previously filled with yunho's favourite soup, mentally thanking seonghwa in your head for the recipe he gave earlier, promptly placing it onto the wooden tray you left on his bedside drawer.

“pup, you know i have a stronger immune system between the two of us. i'll be fine.” you retorted, causing the sick boy to jut his lower lip out into a little sulky pout.

“you're lucky you're cute, pup.” you grumbled, moving the cloth away to feel at his forehead, the playful glare in your eyes melting into a soft gaze. you couldn’t stay mad at him, even if you tried. luckily, his skin wasn't burning as much as before, though the pinkness in his cheeks were still present.

everything seemed like a blur today. all he remembered was trying to get up from the bed but for some reason, yunho felt as if someone had dumped a huge pile of bricks on top of his body while someone kept hitting his head with a hammer. he was lucky that you came into his room to wake him up as soon as his best friend, mingi, called you up to ask where the peachy haired boy was since he couldn't reach him for some reason. that's when you know something was up.

of course, panic started to fill your entire being as soon as you saw how flushed his cheeks looked upon entering the room, along with him shivering underneath his blanket. you immediately went to his side as you phoned your other friends to tell them what was happening. it didn't take long for yunho to be dragged away from the bed by mingi, and jongho (mainly jongho) just so seonghwa could drive them to the doctor's, despite yunho mumbling that he's fine to which he was absolutely not fine at all.

you were thankful that it wasn't that serious, but nevertheless, yunho still received an earful of scolding from you for not taking care of himself more, as if seonghwa’s nagging wasn't enough. 

so now here he is, laying still on the bed as his eyes blinked slowly before his lips lazily curled up into a grin towards you once he felt your palm resting against his forehead. the dazed look in his eyes was already a sign of the medicine he took earlier slowly kicking in. noticing how droopy his eyes were, you made sure the blankets were properly tucked on him. 

“rest, pup. by the time you wake up, it will be when i wake you up for dinner so you can take your meds.” you hushed him, sitting down on the edge of his bed.

poor boy only grunted in response, finally giving up to force his eyes open, letting sleep take over him. you had decided to linger a little longer in the room, just until you were completely sure that the taller male was finally getting that much needed rest. sighing to yourself, your lithe fingers gingerly moved away some of the stray strands that managed to cover most of his eyes. your expression softens at the way his lips parted ever so slightly, chest heaving up and down in an even pace, adoring the way he looked so serene. with quick yet quiet movements so as to not wake the male up, you picked up the wooden tray, and crept up on your tiptoes towards the door. 

you let your body drop onto the couch in your small living room, an arm over your forehead as your eyes stared up at the ceiling. the room was filled with silence that if someone were to drop a pin, it would have created a loud noise. the silence… it was almost a little too eerie for you. normally, it would have been filled with the sounds of you and yunho discussing your assignments as if one could give the other an inspiration to do so. it was when you turned your head to the coffee table that you saw something on the coffee table. 

it was your sketchbook. 

the object sitting idly on the table made you recall a particular conversation you had with yunho a couple of night’s ago.

“what are you up to, little rose?”

yunho’s voice effectively made you look up from your sketchbook, the page though seemingly empty, it was a tad crumpled from your many attempts of sketching, doodling, and the many amounts of erasing. the peachy haired boy made his way from the kitchen overlooking the living room to sit down right next to you with two mugs of what seems to be coffee in both hands, handing one of them to you.

sending him a defeated smile along with a low mumble of appreciation, carefully lifting the mug up to your lips to take a small sip of the drink. as if almost immediately, the bittersweet taste of the drink washed over your tastebuds, warmth being sent throughout your entire being. clearly, nothing can really beat coffee whenever you were in a stumped position. 

“professor kim wanted us to draw something yesterday.” you finally answered, momentarily pausing to take another sip of the coffee, the boy next to you putting an arm on the couch behind your head while his other hand held onto his mug, listening to you intently.

“he mentioned that he wanted something that.. makes our chests swell with a warm feeling that you feel in your chest whenever you look at your own drawing?” you mumbled, furrowing your eyebrows as you set your gaze onto the blank sketchpad that was laid idly on your lap, lips pursing in deep thought.

“well, surely you must have felt the feeling before, don’t you?” yunho asked, reaching out to place his mug on top of the coffee table in front of where the two of you were seated at.

“i..” you started but somehow, the words died off in your throat. 

you wanted to answer ‘yes, of course i have!’.

you wanted to say, ‘everything makes me feel that way too!’

but..

..you had come to the realisation that you had never felt such a feeling in your life before. but, wasn’t that the same thing as happiness? if that was the case, then everything would’ve been ‘a warm feeling’ to you.  

yunho, who seemed to notice you being in your usual thinking bubble again, merely smiled to himself. from the couple of years being your roommate, and dare he say, your best friend, he had picked up all of your habits, and actions. from the way you would rub your nose due to being flustered, or how you would pick at your lips whenever you felt nervous - to which, he tried to make you stop by giving you a small keychain with a stress ball attached to it, fortunately making you squeeze it instead of picking your lips again - yunho could read you like an open book most of the time. 

though of course, he would have to admit, it is when you seem predictable would be the time where you would be sprouting up something so.. unpredictable. the memory of you pulling a sudden all nighter because of a sudden inspiration from watching a movie would always make you look so endearing in the male’s eyes. it was when your eyes meeting his own was what made yunho flinch ever so slightly in his seat out of surprise. 

“tell me, pup. have you ever felt such a feeling before?” you asked, curiosity evident in your bright eyes. 

your question was to be expected, making yunho’s features soften at you. folding his arms in front of his chest, his back leaned further into the couch as he hummed underneath his breath in thought. the happiness that managed to make him freeze in place, huh? it took him a moment, but eventually, he nodded his head. 

“i have, little rose.” he responded.

“and what was it, if you don’t mind sharing.” you inquired, shifting in your place to sit criss-cross as you turned to face the male next to you.

yunho could only stare at your face, slightly caught off guard upon hearing your sudden interest. he couldn’t help but to release an amused laugh at the way you leaned in ever so slightly, reaching a hand out to playfully ruffle your hair.

“it may sound a little ridiculous. but it was when you threw that birthday party for me last year.” he mentioned, only to feel an amused chortle threatening to leave his lips upon seeing the confused look painted over your face, as if waiting for the peachy haired boy to explain what he meant. 

“you baked a cake for me, no?” the corners of his lips quirked up as soon as realisation seemed to hit you. you did bake a cake for him. but really, it wasn’t that special so made him pick that certain day of all days? before you could even ask, however, yunho already beat you to it by giving out his own answer.

“no one has ever baked a cake for me before, it was either bought from our local bakery in town or none at all. but something about a homemade one.. you can feel the effort and so much love from someone who had taken their time in doing so.” yunho trailed off, eyes somehow shining with an unknown sparkle in them as soon as they landed on your own. 

“and i have you to thank for, little rose.” he continued, fingers gingerly curling the stray strand of hair behind your ear.

you swear you could feel your heart increase its pace, feeling as if it was about to burst out of your chest. your cheeks felt warm due to the feeling of your blood rushing up to them, a hand quickly reaching up to rub your nose before tearing your gaze away from yunho’s warm one. 

you didn’t need any more explanation. you had found your inspiration.

a fond smile curled itself over your tiers at the memory before deciding to stand up as you made your way to your room, grabbing the sketchbook with you along the way. you have a drawing to finish.

❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀

a small creak from a door being opened resonated throughout the small hallway of the house, along with heavy footsteps, and the sound of a deep yawn mingled in the air. yunho rubbed his eyes as he made his way into the living room. his eyes were still heavy with traces of sleep lingered in them before looking over to the wall clock idly hanging on the wall, wanting to know how many hours had passed after he fell asleep earlier. judging by how dark it was outside, it was already night time, or maybe even midnight. with how long he slept, it was possible he slept the whole day away.

although slowly, yunho was thankful that the medicine seemed to make him recover considering how his head wasn’t throbbing painfully like before, though he still felt a little heavy but it wasn’t as bad as earlier. he could get up on his own, and that’s already enough for the tall male. 

“y/n?” the peachy haired boy called out, wandering around the house in search for you. 

it was when he reached the door to your room that he noticed the door was slightly ajar, along with a faint sound of what seemed like a song playing coming from the inside as well. his knuckles, gently knocked against the wooden surface before gently pushing the door a tad wider, just enough for yunho to peek in. 

and there you were. all hunched over your desk with your head on top of your folded arms, seeming to have fallen asleep with whatever you were doing earlier. as much as yunho wanted you to let you have you rest after busying yourself by helping him earlier during the day, he didn’t want you to have a sore neck and back due to the position you were in. he knew how much you would complain about the pain in the two regions afterwards but then doing it again, it was a never ending cycle that yunho was amused to see from the years of living with you. 

walking over to the desk with an intention of wanting to wake you up so you could properly lie down, the male noticed something right next to your head. it was your sketchbook. he walked up behind you, looking down at your sleeping figure. with how your pencil was loosely being held in between your dainty fingers along with a couple of crumpled up papers, mixed in with the other pencils in a variety of colours you had strewn all over the surface of your desk, yunho had made the conclusion that you were working on the assignment you had told him a couple of days ago. 

he was glad to know that you were finally getting started on it, knowing how much you would procrastinate until things were a little too late for you to do. but with how you managed to finish everything right on time despite having such little time left, would never cease to amaze him every time. 

with slow movements (clearly not wanting you to wake up all surprised and accidentally smack him in the face), yunho leaned over you to clear up your desk from all the clutter and coloured pencils around you, only then having a clear view of what you had drawn onto the sketchbook which caused his eyes to widen ever so slightly at the sight, pausing in his ministrations. 

his gaze was set on two drawn figures in what seems to be a bedroom, standing side by side with their faces facing each other, joyful smiles painted over their features, each having a paintbrush in hand. it looked like the two of them were enjoying their time together. but what had caught yunho’s eyes was one of the figures having the similar shade of peach as his hair colour, mirroring yunho’s own hair colour. it was when he saw the familiar details on the walls of the drawing that the peachy haired male noticed what, or rather, who the two figures were in the sketchbook.

“yunho?” a soft voice called out, grogginess laced in their tone as they spoke up which made the tall male flinch ever so slightly in place as he tore his gaze away from the drawing down to you. 

from his mind, he had already answered you calling out his name but in reality, he was staring down at your face. tilting your head up, eyes half-lidded from the sleepiness still apparent in your irises. it was when you looked down that you might have caught the gist of whatever has made him speechless. emitting a gasp out of realisation, your hands quickly covered the drawing, whining at him.

“y-you weren’t supposed to see that. i wasn’t d-”

“tell me, little rose. what do you see in me?” was his sudden question, effectively making your words die down in your throat. gulping thickly, your heartbeat was suddenly too loud in your ears. finally having the courage, your lips parted to answer the male’s question.

“i have found comfort in you.” you whispered, yunho’s eyes staring into your own nervous ones.

“i have found happiness whenever we spend time together.” you noted the way your faces were mere centimetres apart from each other.

“i have found the.. the warmth that made me feel at home.” his hands reached out for your hands, holding them in his much larger ones, feeling the pad of his thumbs caressing your knuckles.

“i have.. found myself falling for..” you murmured, yunho resting his forehead on top of your own, both of your eyes fluttering shut, and your noses touching against each other.

“i have found myself falling for you.” 

you were scared to open your eyes. you were scared that if you did, everything would have taken a completely different turn. you were scared that you would ruin the friendship the both of you have built together. you were scared to see the disgusted look on yunho’s face after the little confession. 

you were scared to lose yunho. 

however, those thoughts were completely thrown out of the window upon hearing the words being uttered by the male looming above you. 

“little rose, can i kiss you?” 

the question kept repeating itself in your mind. you wanted to say yes, you wanted to throw your arms around his neck, you wanted to scream out in relief. yet, not even a whisper came out. not trusting your voice, and the choice of words, you merely gave him a nod. to yunho, that was already enough for him. without wasting any more time, the taller male leaned in to press his lips against your own. yunho wasn’t sure if his fever was coming back or it was due to his heart pumping so fast that blood rushed to both of his cheeks. he wasn’t sure, but his face was undeniably warm. 

your smaller hand released one of the male’s bigger ones, reaching up to rest itself against his cheek while your lips moved against his own in sync. everything around you felt muted, the only thing you could hear was the beating of your heart like some type of drum. you never knew that a simple action could make you crave for more, but of course, the need for air was already screaming in the both of your minds that made you pull away from each other, albeit reluctantly.

yunho could faintly taste the sweetness that lingered over his lips as his eyes stared into yours in silence, his hand squeezing yours, before a gentle smile spread itself over his brims, you finding it contagious as you can’t help but to show him your own smile in return. deep down, he wanted to kiss you again, seemingly longing to feel them on his lips once again. so, he did just that. much to your surprise, of course you weren’t complaining.

you would be lying if you denied any more of his kisses. 

once the both of you pulled away for the second time, one specific thing popped into your mind, eyes widening in realisation which caused yunho to tilt his head ever so slightly to the side in question.

“if you get me sick, i swear.”

“hey, you said you have a strong immune system!”

“jeong yunho!”