#it really helps to build it up I’m guessing which. mmm don’t like that

[dexter-erotoph]

SKID AND PUMP BOTH INSTANTLY CHEERING UP WHEN THEY GET TOLD THEY CAN SEE EACHOTHER

[iwritebigbellies-blog]

Keep having to cut these scenes out of my "real" writing. Sigh. Enjoy, I guess.

***

By the time the Lance was closing down, Rhea was fatigued to the point of sentimentality and Hector was roaring drunk, which amounted to the same state of mind. Samira got them into an Uber where Hector tossed himself across the back seat, laying his head in her lap. Samira looked briefly concerned, but Rhea smiled and waved. “I’ve got him,” she said.

“Of course you do,” Samira said, yawning and waving them off.

Once they were underway, Hector’s eye cracked open, blurrily looking up at her with a smile. Rhea scritched his hair and ran her fingers down his jaw, just enjoying the shape of him. How had she never noticed how badly she had always wanted to touch him, to have access? These questions would come up for the rest of her life.

“D’you think your friends in San Fran will like me?” he asked quietly. He shuffled all the way onto his back and reached up to slowly run his fingers along the fringe of her hair. He didn’t look concerned. Just curious.

“I do,” she replied. “But my friends there—it’s not the same. We’re not close. We run in the same circles, but they don’t know a lot about me, and I don’t really know them.”

Hector frowned. “But how?”

Rhea laughed a little, dry. “I’m like a rabbit, Hector. Nervous in the open air, ready to bolt. But in my den, with my family, I open to all the fuzz and the cuddles.”

“No rabbits in San Fran?”

“I guess not,” Rhea said. Hector took her hand, kissed it, and lay it on his chest where she could feel his heart hammering.

“I’m going to be in your den now,” he said, closing his eyes again. “I’m very fuzzy.”

Rhea laughed, stretching to reach the hem of his shirt, exposing his very fuzzy—and pretty poochy—belly, which she rubbed happily. “I hated being alone, Hector. I can’t wait for this. Honestly.”

“Me too,” he murmured. His eyebrows knit as she kept running her hand over his exposed midriff. “That feels good. Keep doing that.”

It could not escape Rhea that his belly was very full and very tight. She made soft and gentle circles as he turned his head to kiss her stomach. “Little bit of a tummy ache, hmm?” she said, gentle teasing.

“Lil bit,” he confirmed, twisting slightly into her hand. “But you are making it worth it.”

Rhea knew he enjoyed it. He loved being taken care of. Lying drunk in her lap, his overtaxed belly being rubbed, that was practically his happy place. She could almost see thirty years of guard breaking down as he put himself entirely in her hands, knowing she had him and would do everything to keep him safe and make him happy. Just like he would for her.

It helped that she found him adorable when he was helpless like this. And that she found this fuzzy, round belly he was developing incredibly sexy. His thick, strong build was immeasurably improved by a big meal and/or a night out, when the effects of his happy, trusting indulgence were prominently on display. She couldn’t have kept her hands off of him even if he hadn’t explicitly requested belly rubs.

Back at the flat, Hector got distracted three times just getting up the stairs, and Rhea was breathless with laughter by the time she herded him through the door. He stumbled toward the couch, but she caught his arm and propelled him toward the bathroom instead.

“Brush your teeth,” she told him, as if he were six years old. “You’re coming to bed.”

“Mmm,” he replied, and did as he was told.

When he emerged, he was reasonably put together, and Rhea had fetched them both water. Hector took his from her and immediately emptied it down his throat, his beer trick all over again. Rhea gaped.

“Hector, I know it’s just water, but slow down,” she said, taking the empty glass and refilling it from the sink. She stepped close to give it back again, laying a hand on his rounded belly. “You’re already full as a balloon.”

“Saving up for the night,” he replied, covering her hand with his and taking a few more deep gulps. Rhea could feel his poor belly rounding out just a little more. Hector held her eyes long enough that she knew he was seeing what she felt: heat and tingles. He sidestepped to put the glass down, and peeled off his shirt, running his hand in a circle once before coming to a rest at his belt, too tight and digging into the rise below his bellybutton. He started to sigh, then looked a little confused when he couldn’t fill his diaphragm deep enough.

Rhea shivered and took hold of his belt, pulling it apart with more effort than the other three times she’d done it today. His head tilted back and he closed his eyes as she snapped the button open too, and he could finally draw a deep breath. “Look at you,” Rhea murmured. “You look a bit like a snake that’s swallowed an egg.”

“God, I used to be able to eat so much more than this,” Hector groaned. He kicked his pants off and collapsed into the bed, lying on his back and placing both hands on his belly. “Out of practice.”

Rhea stripped down to a tanktop and panties and stretched out into bed next to him, resuming stroking his belly in soft circles. “Guess you better practice some more, then,” she said, nuzzling close.

“I can’t believe you like this,” Hector said, letting her tend to him. “Because this feel so fucking good.”

Rhea kissed his shoulder and nudged him. “Roll onto your side, big guy. It will feel better.” Hector obliged, groaning plaintively as he did, and she spooned tight along his back, reaching around his middle to run the length of his swollen stomach.

“Tha’s amazing,” he murmured, letting his belly pootch into her hand, shuffling a little to lie as close to her as he could. She kissed his back and closed her eyes. She could feel his breath deepening as he dozed off. “Light of my life. Balm of my wounds. My…Goblin.”

“I love you,” she whispered. He pulled her arms tighter around him.

“Love like time,” he replied. “I will never reach the end of it.”

He was asleep a moment later.

[imagineanime2022]

Kids

Kalluto Zoldyck X Fem!Reader (Platonic)

Word Count: 630

Requested: Anon

Request: Hii, if you write for Kalluto, could you make an angst to fluff scenario with reader who's a sort of mother figure to him? Like maybe kalluto had a nightmare or he's just really frustrated about something and the reader comforts him?♡ that poor baby doesn't get enough attention or love :((( thanks❤️

Kalluto had been with the Phantom Troupe for a little while now, that was where he met you, the kindest person that he had ever met, you were gentle with everyone that you met and encouraged everyone. Kalluto found himself growing close to you, he’d find himself standing behind your legs and looking to you when he did something noteworthy and you would always have some kind of praise ready for him.

You noticed that Kalluto was very independent for his age, more grown up and detached then most and it wasn’t because of his occupation as an assassin. You noticed that he seemed to have given up on the idea of even being noticed which in all honesty confused you because his ability and his skill deserved all the praise in the world especially at his age.

It had been at least a couple of months, you had all been unbothered after the incident with the Chimera Ants but after all that Kalluto seemed a little standoffish then before, you had given him some time usually he’d come to you if he had a question but this time it was almost like the problem was with you.

This was the 2nd night of him keeping his distance so when it came time to eat you walked over to him with his food and sat next to him. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on?” You asked, passing him to food that you had brought over. “Nothing.” He answered, it almost seemed like a habit, you raised an eyebrow at him. “Really?” You asked. “Mmm.” He hummed. “Doesn’t seem like nothing, seems like something is bothering you.” You informed him as you leaned back in your seat. “You know you can tell me if something is wrong, I won’t tell anyone, I might even be able to help.” “I just don’t understand.” He muttered. “Don’t understand what?” You asked. “Why do I like it here more?” He answered. Your eyes widened not because of what he had said but the meaning behind it, you glanced around the abandoned building that the group had claimed as their own while you thought about your answer. “More than home?” You asked, he nodded almost as if he couldn’t say it out loud. “What’s different?” “Different?” He asked. “I guess I matter here.” “You don’t matter at home?” You asked. “Mum and Dad are more focused on my older brother.” He answered. “Killua left a while ago, they haven’t been able to get him to come home, no matter how hard they try.” “So no one is really paying much attention to you?” You asked. “Not really.” He answered, the way that he spoke he was vulnerable. This was the first time that you had heard him sound like a child, sound is age. You reached over and wrapped an arm around his shoulder. “It will never be wrong to want someone to see you.” You informed him “as long as you are here, you will have my full attention.” He seemed to relax into your side as you pat his head softly. “I’m sure that no ones ever told you this either but you are way better at everything that you do, than anyone else at your age. I promise you that you’ll show everyone and I’ll be there every step of the way, if you want me there.” You said. “You promise?” He asked. “I promise.” You nodded. “And the rest of them will look after like you’re their own, unless you give them reason not to.” “Thank you.” He said softly and you winked. “Nothing to thank me for.” You leaned down and pressed a small kiss to his forehead “now eat up we’ve got work to do tomorrow.”

Request Here!!

[mmmmmmmmmmmmsoup]

The cleaner

part 1

(This is my first short story, so please be kind, but I would also love some feedback)

Some background information: You are a dropout from the military, you were looking for a much needed job. Somehow, you landed a gig cleaning. Now you are a cleaner who picks up after a bunch of smelly dudes. But it’s not all bad, you get paid fairly well and the company(?) that you work for has given you rent free accommodations. These are your adventures!

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! You wake up panicked, sitting up immediately only to find the source of the noise, your alarm clock. “Ugh”, you push the button to silence the alarm, while rubbing the sleep out of your eyes.

6:30AM was the time, it gave you enough time to get dressed, brush your teeth, eat, and anything else you needed to do before your shift started. As you looked in the mirror, putting your hair in a pony tail(or just pinning it up, if your hair is too short), you sighed “another day”. With one last look in the mirror, you headed out the door.

Getting to where you needed to work was no trouble, you literally had to walk across the gravel driveway and you were there. The company that hired you, gave you a little shack to stay in while your here. Not the nicest shack you’ve ever seen, but it had a bathroom, room for a bed, and a mini fridge. Which is more then most shacks have.

You’ve been working here for almost 2 weeks now, your still getting adjusted to the job, while the men that your cleaning up after, are getting adjusted with your presence. You haven’t talked to them a bunch, but you know they are an odd group, to say the least. there are 9 of them, some are fairly clean and even give you a hand with work, while others… less so.

As you make it inside the building, you look down at your check list that you carry around. “Let’s see here…garage has been done, all of the lower floor has been done, mmm. I guess all there is to do is clean the kitchen, sweep, mop the floors, and vacuum any rugs. Ok seems pretty low key for a Thursday, sweet!” You click your pen and get started with your day.

Threw out the day you have managed to clean the mess that was the kitchen, sweep and mop most of the rooms, with only a few more to go, and it isn’t even 1pm yet. You were on a role!

Currently you were vacuuming a rug that was located in what you would call, the living room. Mindlessly vacuuming, zoning out thinking about who knows what, when suddenly the vacuum stops. “Uh?” You try turning the vacuum off and on, nothing happens. “Please don’t tell me this thing just died on me!” Your eyes follow the wire of the vacuum to where you plugged it in, only to find a VERY large man standing there, with the end of the cord in his hand. ‘Holy fuck!’

The man was tall, like fucking ridiculous tall. He was more on the bigger side for body types, but you could tell it wasn’t just water weight, this man could knock the shit out of you if he wanted.

You started to sweat slightly “…can I help you?”. This guy did not look friendly, he wore a scowl on his face and is looking down at you as if you have done something wrong.

“You go on break now.”

Baffled, unsure you heard him correctly, “pardon?”

“You go on break now.” He says once more, with a thick Russian accent.

“Oh…OH! No, I’m ok, I’m just gonna finish up, then I’ll be done for the day.”

“No, you take break.” He insists, well not really insists more demands it, but yeah.

“No really, I’m almost done, won’t take anytime at all!”, you try to say without coming off as rude. ‘Let me do my job big scary man, and then you won’t have to see me for the rest of the day!!!’

“I make sandwiches.”, He blurts out.

….

“What?”

“I make sandwiches, you take break and eat.”

‘…well that was unexpected. I thought this guy just hated my guts, but he actually might be nice?’

“Oh….ok, I guess I can take a quick break, couldn’t hurt.” You say as you place the vacuum to the side.

“Good.” The giant starts to turn around and walk towards to kitchen/dining area, you follow.

as your walking, your trying to remember the name of this giant. When you first started working here, you had gotten a small introduction to the 9 men, but it was short, and names were never your thing. ‘What was it again? Henry? No that isn’t it… hoovey? Heavy? Heavy!’ As you both make it to the kitchen, there’s a table in the corner with a plate stacked with sandwiches, like atleast 25. A crazy amount of sandwiches, but maybe he made some for everybody? ‘Aw, that’s kinda sweet.’

As you sit down, heavy grabs you a plate and napkin. He doesn’t sit, “I go get everybody else.”

“Oh, ok”, as heavy walks away you grab a sandwich and place it on your place. ‘Should I wait for everyone else to get here? Heavy didn’t say anything about not eating right away.’ As your staring at the sandwich, you realize your gonna be in a room full of guys you don’t really know that well. Your anxiety is starting to set in, you’ve never been great at socializing, you start to tear at your napkin to try and sooth your social anxiety.

Suddenly out no where a bunch of guys basically run in to the kitchen, some grab a plate and sit down, while others grab one or two sandwiches and leave immediately, assuming to return to whatever they were doing before heavy told them about food.

“So your the newbie, eh?”, You look up to who spoke, it was a guy with a hard hat on and some goggles. He wore overalls that were stained with oil.

"er, yup. Well kinda, I’m just a cleaner.”, You shrug, as you reach for your sandwich.

“Well I’m engineer or engie, for short, just incase you forgot. Thanks for all the work you’ve done so far.” Engineer says with a smile, ‘what’s with all the weirdly specific names?’.

“Ja! I don’t think this place has looked better!” You turn to the man with the German accent. He has black hair, round glasses, and is wearing a doctor uniform. ‘I know his name starts with a M, so his name isn’t doctor….um mmm me- medic!’

“Well thank you, I try!” You say bashfully.

“Well I’m heading back to work, got this new blueprint I’ve been planning” engineer says, as he grabs a sandwich on his way out.

Now that engineer has left the room, there’s only 4 people in the room, including yourself.

Medic, was sitting across from you, while heavy was sitting beside him. Then there was a guy in a suit wearing a ski mask sitting to the right of you. ‘I have no fucking clue what his name could be. I wouldn’t even be able to guess, theif? Sketchy jewelry salesman?’

You start eating your sandwich, trying to avoid eye contact ‘this sandwich is actually pretty good!’

“So Y/N,” you hear medic say, you freeze and look up at him from across the table.

“How are handling your living arrangements? If you need anything fixed in that old shack of yours engineer can fix it for you!”

You swallow your bite of food “oh! It’s ok, I don’t need anything fixed. It’s got everything that I need, can’t complain.”

“I’m surprised you were ok living in a shack in the first place.” You hear a French voice to your right. It’s the guy that looks like a sketchy jewellery salesman.

“If I was you, I would have asked to be placed within the building itself, it’s not like we don’t have room” he continues. 

“Aw well, i’m sure your company just wanted to make sure it was kept professional is all.” You say nervously.

“I suppose…” He replies, grabbing a cigarette from his pocket.

‘I gotta get out of here!’

Before anyone else can put a another word in, or have to wait another minute in awkward silence, you take one last bite of your sandwich and stand up. “Well, I better be getting back to work! Thank you for the food heavy.”

Heavy nods and sort of grumbles in a thank you tone, as he scarfs down his 4th sandwich.

You put your plate in the sink, feeling a little guilty cause you just cleaned the kitchen, and now you might have to do it once more today.

“Don’t worry about the kitchen, we’ll clean up when we’re done!” Medic says from across the room. ‘He must have seen my conflicted face.’

“Oh, are you sure? it is my job to clean” you stress.

“Ja, I know you already cleaned to kitchen, the least we could do he deal with our own dishes.”

“Ok well, if your sure.”

You walk out of the kitchen to continue the list of chores you must do.

For the rest of the day, it doesn’t take you long to finish up. You put away all the cleaning supplies, and head outside to your shack.

On your free time you doodle in your sketch book, write down the names of your acquaintances, so hopefully you will remember next time and just chill.

You go to bed early so you can wake up early tomorrow to clean some more.



Ok! That’s part 1! How did I do??

I have no idea where I am going with this story, I just know I’ve been itching to write this. So if anyone has any ideas, I’d love to hear them

[atonalginger]

Snippet Sunday

thank you for tagging me, @eridanidreams ! You've already tags all the usual suspects so I extend my tag to anyone who reads this far and has something they want to share!

This is from my starborn WIP I've come to call the Starborn Saga which sounds maybe too dramatic but it's what I got. lol.

Warnings: explicit language, suggestive themes (thoughts and implications of sex) With that this snippet is best suited for 18+ audiences.

“You really mad about the shipping crates?” Sam asked Lila as he settled on the couch in their room.

She stood next to the big picture windows watching the security bots patrolling the grounds. Two kept bumping into one another while a third harassed a small genophage minding its business. She’d need to upgrade their programming. She smiled at his question, “What do you think?” She asked.

“I don’t know what to think anymore. I figured you’d cool off when you saw everything I ordered but then you’ve been distant all fuckin’ evening,” there was heat in his words but he stayed relatively calm. She turned to look at him, “I haven’t been distant, I’ve been thinking.”

“Could have fooled us,” Sam tossed his red flannel shirt into a basket near the door, “Goose’s been teasing me all evening.”

She laughed, “Oh no, teen razzing.”

“Oh, fuck off,” he waved her off and bit back a smile.

“Oh?” she raised an eyebrow in feigned shock. An impish smile curled her lip, “In that case I guess I won’t give you that gift.”

Sam looked up, curious. He narrowed his eyes and pursed his lips. Then mouthed the word ‘gift’ to himself.

“I’m still not thrilled you volunteered our outpost, because even the most discreet crews can slip up, but I’m not a fool: Del would have found us eventually.” Lila sauntered over to the couch, “I just wish you would have told me.”

“I wanted to surprise you,” he sounded tired. She wondered how many times he’d said these words today, “I wanted to do something nice for you and Goose. A gift. Being King of the Crimson Fleet comes with perks I like to use.”

“King?” Lila stood in front of him, her knees touching his, “Does Del know that?”

Sam flashed his signature smile and shrugged, “Don’t see how it matters. He still gets to manage the crews and that keeps him happy.”

“He’d try to kill you if he heard that,” she tapped the bottom of his chin with her index finger. He just laughed and took her hand, pulled her in and kissed her. She caught herself with a hand to his chest and clawed at the fabric of his shirt. With his other hand he snatched her waist and yanked her onto his lap.

“Maybe I should build myself a throne. Have my queen sit pretty on my lap.” He looked her over and bit his lip.

“Your queen,” she touched her chest in faux shock, “What an honor.” He ran his fingers up the back of her neck and took a fist full of hair, pulling her in for another kiss. She let out a small squeal and pushed back on his chest. He let her go and stared at her with hungry eyes.

“Aren’t I supposed to be fucking off?” she tilted her head to the side. He trailed his eyes down her front and squeezed her ass, rocking up at her, “you can fuck something.”

“Mmm, I could,” She pushed on his chest and forced herself up to her feet, “You really don’t want your gift?”

Lila could see the wheels turn in his mind. His eyes focused on her cleavage, a finger hooking the neck of her tank top and pulling it down further. He bit his bottom lip and looked up at her, “color me curious, I do.”

She reached down and worked his belt and pants open, her eyes never leaving his face, “just sit back, your Highness,” she said playfully.

“I prefer your Greatness, thank you,” He leaned back and draped his arms over the top of the couch cushions.

She grabbed the sides of his pants and shorts and pulled them down, Sam lifting himself to help, and knelt in front of him, “Don’t push it, cowboy.”

[shiningwonderland]

Masato Hijirikawa (Repeat)

Translator: Boo (Twitter: masatoswife)

Proofreader: Rei (Twitter: wolfe_raine)

Editors: Mae (Twitter: itoshikimaegirl), Terry (Twitter: turtlemudge)

QA: Rei (Twitter: wolfe_raine)

July — Wachsend Shine

It’s July.

The rainy season hasn’t ended yet, but recently there have been more days with nice weather and the sunlight feels very warm.

Otoya Ittoki: Say, this school’s pretty fancy, huh…

Masato Hijirikawa: How so…?

Otoya Ittoki: The whole building is fully air-conditioned, so it’s comfortable all year round. This time last year, I was dripping with sweat during classes.

Masato Hijirikawa: Is that so…? The school I went to was similar to here.

Natsuki Shinomiya: The same goes for me. I’ve never suffered from summers and winters very much.

Otoya Ittoki: For real? It’s like that for everyone in schools these days?

Haruka Nanami: Ah… No, I believe ordinary public middle schools don’t have such things… Summertime was always really hot for me, too…

When I answer him, Ittoki-kun stares at Hijirikawa-sama with spite in his eyes.

Masato Hijirikawa: You can spend your time more comfortably too now, can’t you?

Otoya Ittoki: Well… yeah, but…

Masato Hijirikawa: Then don’t complain… More importantly… Nanami. There is something I want to ask you.

Masato Hijirikawa: Last year, on a snowy day…. Were you outside singi—

Ringo Tsukimiya: Ah, what a relief…! There’s still some kids left.

Haruka Nanami: Ah, Tsukimiya-sensei…

Otoya Ittoki: What’s up, Rin-chan?

Masato Hijirikawa: Is something the matter?

Ringo Tsukimiya: Absolutely. You see, there’s something I want help with for a bit….

Haruka Nanami: Um, well… I’ll help with anything.

When I get up and raise my hand, Tsukimiya-sensei is so happy, he claps his hands.

Ringo Tsukimiya: Really?! You’re a lifesaver~. To tell you the truth, I should be cleaning the pool right now.

Ringo Tsukimiya: I said 'I want this clean by today', but Shiny just wouldn't hear it, no matter what I said! I can lend you some swimsuits, so let’s all do it together!

Masato Hijirikawa: I do not mind, but… if we simply return to the dormitory, we can get our school standard swimsuits—

Otoya Ittoki: Can we swim after we’re done cleaning?

Ittoki-kun asks excitedly, interrupting Hijirikawa-sama’s words.

Ringo Tsukimiya: Of course~! Let’s have lots of fun!

Ringo Tsukimiya: Therefore, let’s not talk about boorish things like those school swimsuits.

Tsukimiya-sensei winks in Hijirikawa-sama’s direction.

Then…

Natsuki Shinomiya: Waah, I’m looking forward to it!

As he says this, Shinomiya-san smiles at me.

Natsuki Shinomiya: I’ll choose a swimsuit for you. We might as well get you a cute one.

Haruka Nanami: Uhm…

Select the Phrase!

できるだけ地味なものでお願いしま��. Please pick one that’s as plain as possible... (+10 Love +0 Music)

Natsuki Shinomiya: Of course, I’ll be choosing one that looks cute.

Haruka Nanami: Not like that…

Natsuki Shinomiya: Hehe. I wonder which one to choose~.

Natsuki Shinomiya: Waah, you look so cute, Nanami!

Haruka Nanami: Y-you think so… ?

Natsuki Shinomiya: Of course I do. So... please raise your face and let me see better.

Haruka Nanami: Mmm…

There’s a big ribbon on the chest, so whether or not it’s cute isn’t really the issue here…

Is the amount of fabric just scarce, or is my skin exposed too much… ?

It’s honestly so, so very embarrassing.

It would work with a style like Tomo-chan’s, but more importantly, I wonder if it’s okay for someone like me to wear a swimsuit like this…

Ringo Tsukimiya: Oh dear, oh dear! Haru-chan, you’re so cute… ! So cute that I want to take you home…

Otoya Ittoki: Sensei, isn’t that statement kinda inappropriate?

Ringo Tsukimiya: Is it? I feel like it’s normal to want something by your side when you think it’s cute, but…

Otoya Ittoki: Well… but… I guess she does look really cute, huh… You should be more confident, Nanami.

Haruka Nanami: U-uhm… thank you…

Then, Hijirikawa-sama, who has finished changing his clothes, comes in.

The moment he looks at me, he suddenly stops moving.

Ah… It doesn’t suit me, after all.

Ringo Tsukimiya: Waaaa~~h! Maa-sama looks super handsome!

Maa… -sama?

Even though up until just a while ago, he still called him Maa-kun…

Moreover… his eyes have somehow become heart-shaped.

Ringo Tsukimiya: I can’t take it~… The line from your collarbones to your chest is perfect! How sexy…

Ringo Tsukimiya: Beau-ti-ful! I’m being captivated~!

Tsukimiya-sensei pokes Hijirikawa-sama’s chest.

But…

Hijirikawa-sama doesn’t move an inch.

Somehow, his eyes seem unfocused, like he’s staring into a void…

Perhaps he’s not feeling well…

Haruka Nanami: U-um… Hijirikawa-sama.

Masato Hijirikawa: Ah! Yes, w-what is it… ?

Hijirikawa-sama… For some reason, he’s really disoriented. Besides… he won’t look me in the eye… What’s wrong?

Haruka Nanami: Um…

Select the Phrase!

どうかしましたか? Did something happen? (+20 Love +0 Music)

Masato Hijirikawa: No... it’s... uhm…

Haruka Nanami: If you’re not feeling well, you should go to the school infirmary… I’ll go with you!

As I say that, I tightly grab Hijirikawa-sama’s hand.

Masato Hijirikawa: ...!!!

Then, Hijirikawa-sama withdraws his hand in surprise.

Masato Hijirikawa: There is no need for that…

Hijirikawa-sama turns away from me and goes to the changing room.

After a while, Hijirikawa-sama returns to the pool. He’s holding a baggy hoodie in his hands.

Haruka Nanami: Ehm... Hijirikawa-sama…

He quietly places the hoodie over my shoulders without looking me in the eye.

Haruka Nanami: Eh...?

Masato Hijirikawa: … Wear it.

Haruka Nanami: … But…

Masato Hijirikawa: … Just do it. Won’t you… ? It’s just… women should not expose their skin like that…

Haruka Nanami: Ah… I see. Thank you…

Ryuya Hyuga: I brought three people to help! … Hm? Seems like Ringo has also found some. With this many it’s going to be a walk in the park.

Ah, it’s Hyuga-sensei. He brought… Ichinose-san, Jinguji-san and Syo-kun from S class.

The three of them are said to be the highest achievers in S class and pretty close to their debut.

Ichinose-san and Ohayaho News’s HAYATO are twin brothers.

Jinguji-san, who had a recording showdown with Hijirikawa-sama before this, is a cool person with a strong presence. Come to think of it, he’s definitely popular with girls.

And last but not least, Syo-kun, whose popularity skyrocketed due to his strength and masculinity despite his small body. There’s even a secret fanclub for him.

Ren Jinguji: Hijirikawa… What’s with that pale body? Your swimsuit doesn’t look good on you at all. You can’t be a summer man like this.

Masato Hijirikawa: And… ? I do not think I want to be such a thing.

Ren Jinguji: Ah, that’s right. You’re always like that. You just won’t make any effort. And yet, it’s extremely easy for you to obtain everything.

Ren Jinguji: Just because you’re the eldest son, you’ll inherit the conglomerate, and you’re needed at home. You have exactly what I can’t have, yet you’re trying to throw it away.

Ren Jinguji: That attitude pisses me off. Just looking at you makes me want to beat you up.

Masato Hijirikawa: That would be unjust resentment.

Ren Jinguji: No sweat, huh, Masato Hijirikawa? Hey, let’s have a match. I’ll break your nose.

Masato Hijirikawa: I don’t know what you intend to have a match for, but I came here to clean the pool. I do not have time to play your games.

At that moment, a huge shark appears inside the pool.

Masato Hijirikawa: I-is that… a great white shark!? Why is it in a place like this… ?

Ren Jinguji: No, you’re wrong… It’s…

Shining Saotome: HA-HA-HAAA~. It’s ME!

The shark’s skin rips apart and the principal appears from within.

The principal is wearing a fundoshi and the mysterious phrase ‘body sushi’ is written on his abdomen.

Shining Saotome: I heard your conversation! Let’s have a maaatch! It will be a three-on-three water polo match!

Shining Saotome: By the way, the losing team will have to crossdreeess!

Ringo Tsukimiya: How lovely~! Doesn’t that seem fun? When it comes to crossdressing, just leave it to me! I’ll teach you lots about it~!

Ryuya Hyuga: Water polo… ? Didn’t we gather students to clean the pool… !?

Shining Saotome: HA-HA-HA~. It’s no proooblem!

Saying this, the principal pulls at one of the shower nozzles next to the pool.

The bottom of the pool opens with a clicking sound, and all the water disappears.

Under it is a huge, robot-like thing…

Saotome Academy is full of mysteries, huh…

Once the bottom of the pool has opened all the way, big brushes—kind of like the ones in a car wash— come out and clean the dirt from the pool walls.

As soon as the walls are squeaky clean again, the floor returns to its original state. The floor looks clean as well.

Meanwhile, only ninety seconds have passed. Saotome Academy’s science and technology are not to be underestimated.

Shining Saotome: On to the final touch! COME ON, big waves!

Water vigorously spurts out from the sides of the pool and fills it in the blink of an eye.

Otoya Ittoki: If there’s all this machinery, you didn’t need us to clean the pool in the first place…

Masato Hijirikawa: … Exactly.

Shining Saotome: Hahahaaa~. The Shining ZR2 is TOOOP SECRET.

Shining Saotome: If you bring it up in conversation to others, it could result in an organization just as secret aiming for your liiife! It’s absolutely confidential!

Ryuya Hyuga: … Then you shouldn’t have shown us in the first place. When did you even make this thing anyway… ? Don’t just selfishly drain money from our budget, geez.

Shining Saotome: Did you say something, Ryuya-san~?

Ryuya Hyuga: Nope, nothing. He really is a self-centered old man. Think of the trouble I go through as the accountant for once…

Otoya Ittoki: Water polo, huh… How about the positions? I can go offense!

Masato Hijirikawa: I’m not that fond of ball games as they can injure my fingers, but…

Haruka Nanami: U-uhm…

Select the Phrase!

わたしが代わりに... I can go instead… (+25 Love +0 Music)

Masato Hijirikawa: You? In my place?

Otoya Ittoki: Well, if Masa doesn’t wanna it can’t be helped.

Masato Hijirikawa: I have not said I’m not doing it.

Otoya Ittoki: But you don’t like it, right?

Masato Hijirikawa: Be that as it may, there is no way I can force this onto a woman as I watch from the sidelines. Not to mention….

Hijirikawa-sama grasps my hands.

Masato Hijirikawa: I cannot afford to expose your hands to danger.

Masato Hijirikawa: Eventually, these hands will bring to life thousands of masterpieces. They are precious hands…

Masato Hijirikawa: On top of that, since you get injured so often… do not involve yourself in dangerous situations. I do not want you to be in pain.

Haruka Nanami: … Okay.

He’s worried about me. … I feel happy.

Natsuki Shinomiya: That’s true… And besides, if you were to move too much in this swimsuit, the string might come undone.

Masato Hijirikawa: The string…

The swimsuit I’m wearing has a top part that is held up with a string, which is tied behind my neck.

So… if it were to come undone…

… It might end up like the rare incident from a long while ago, at a swimming competition full of female idols.

Otoya Ittoki: T-That’s like… Doki Swimming! Topless quali—

Masato Hijirikawa: Ittoki! Don’t say any more…

Hijirikawa-sama hurriedly closes Ittoki-kun’s mouth.

In the end, Ittoki-kun plays offense, Hijirikawa-sama is on defense, and Shinomiya-san will play as the goalie.

The water polo match has begun.

It’s water polo, though there won’t be any formal rules, since we’re only playing in the school’s pool with a small number of people.

There aren’t any goal posts either, so if anything, it feels more like they’re playing portball inside a pool. One person from each team stands on top of a diving board, to substitute for a goal.

We came up with the rule that if the person who plays as the goalie catches the ball, they get points.

It’s quite unusual for water polo, but it seems to work just fine when playing three-on-three.

Otoya Ittoki: Masa! Pass!

Ittoki-kun is quick to catch and throw the ball over to Hijirikawa-sama.

Masato Hijirikawa: Roger…!

The ball draws a beautiful parabola in the sky right in Hijirikawa-sama’s direction, but…

Ren Jinguji: You’re not gonna get it!

Jinguji-san darts in front of him.

He butts in with efficient movements, making it seem like he isn’t underwater at all.

Masato Hijirikawa: Argh…

Hijirikawa-sama also reaches out in an attempt to get the ball, but…

Ren Jinguji: Heh. How unfortunate.

He’s one step too late and Jinguji-san takes the ball.

Ren Jinguji: You can’t beat me if you insist on playing while protecting your fingers! Get real, if you even can!

He sneers at him as he says it and immediately throws the ball towards Syo-kun.

Ren Jinguji: Over here! Catch it, Shorty!

Syo Kurusu: Got it!

Syo-kun takes the ball in a tight catch.

They’ve already scored a point…

Select the Phrase!

頑張ってくださいっ! Do your best! (+25 Love +0 Music)

Ren Jinguji: If you really want to cheer him on, why don’t you take off the hoodie and show him your swimsuit? I’m sure he’ll be delighted.

Haruka Nanami: … I’ll try.

I take off the hoodie Hijirikawa-sama lent me, and, once again…

Haruka Nanami: Do your best!

… call out to him.

Masato Hijirikawa: I will… Ah!? !!!

For some reason, I feel like Hijirikawa-sama’s movements are only getting slower.

Ren Jinguji: Whoo~! You’re the best, Lady! I dedicate this goal to you~.

Jinguji-san’s movements, on the contrary, are only improving.

In the end, A class loses, and they will have to crossdress.

Haruka Nanami: Sorry about the match... but I’m glad your fingers are okay.

Masato Hijirikawa: I apologize… We’ve been defeated. It seems I cannot win against him while protecting my fingers after all…

Masato Hijirikawa: However, in the unlikely event of an injury, I would not have been able to play the piano for a while. If that had happened, you would have mourned over it.

Haruka Nanami: Ah…

He did it… for me?

Haruka Nanami: Thank you…

Masato Hijirikawa: No, it’s not something you should thank me for. It was a battle I should have won…

Masato Hijirikawa: I am ashamed of myself… We lost the match, and now I’ll have to wear these clothes…

Ringo Tsukimiya: Oh dear, it’s not just clothes~. Your make-up must be done as well!

Masato Hijirikawa: Make-up… I presume there is no way we can neglect that part, can we…

Haruka Nanami: Yeah… Without make-up, the clothes may feel out of place.

Masato Hijirikawa: ... Could you assist me? I don’t know a lot about cosmetics, but I do not like to leave things unfinished.

Masato Hijirikawa: Since I’ve ended up like this, I want to go through with it until the very end.

Haruka Nanami: Understood. I’ll do my very best!

I pick up the cosmetics I borrowed from Tsukimiya-sensei and apply them in order.

Since Hijirikawa-sama has beautiful smooth skin, the foundation stays on really well…

Haruka Nanami: Um… Could you close your eyes?

Masato Hijirikawa: Like this… ?

As I approach the final stage of applying the make-up, staring at Hijirikawa-sama’s especially beautiful face makes my heart pound.

Haruka Nanami: Erm, I’m going to apply the lipstick now.

Masato Hijirikawa: Mhn…. It tickles…

I put a red hue on my pinky finger and gently trace it along Hijirikawa-sama’s lips.

Ah… His lips are... soft…

… Pretty… Hijirikawa-sama looks so beautiful when crossdressing that, even as a woman, I can’t help but gaze at him in admiration.

Like this, it’s as if he’s a Japanese doll…

When all three guys from A class finish changing their clothes, they reveal themselves in the classroom.

Masato Hijirikawa: This is… me… ?

Hijirikawa-sama mutters to himself in a dumbfounded manner as he stares at the mirror.

Otoya Ittoki: You have it easy, Masa. At least you look pretty. But me…. Don’t I look too much like a guy still…?

Saying that, Ittoki-kun pinches his skirt in an unfamiliar manner.

Natsuki Shinomiya: That’s not true! You look like a boyish girl.

Shinomiya-san’s height gives him the aura of a beautiful, powerful woman.

Ringo Tsukimiya: Waaah~! Maa-sama, you’re such a beautiful woman!! Even from a professional’s point of view, you look outstanding~. With that, I’ve decided today’s victory goes to Maa-sama!

Ringo Tsukimiya: If you were to debut as a female idol like this, I wouldn’t be able to afford letting my guard down. That’s how beautiful you look…

Tsukimiya-sensei stares at Hijirikawa-sama with an enthralled expression.

Masato Hijirikawa: Victory… ? Of which competition!? Good grief…

Hijirikawa-sama lets out a sigh.

The people in the classroom let out sighs as well, but rather than exasperated, they are sighs of admiration.

Ryuya Hyuga: Well, you certainly do look beautiful. If you keep quiet, I don’t see a man at all.

Otoya Ittoki: Right, right! Masa is like super pretty!

Haruka Nanami: Whoa… Beautiful…

Ren Jinguji: Wha—!? I’ve been defeated in beauty… Tch. Next time it’ll be different. Prepare yourselves.

Even though Jinguji-san won the water polo match, he clicks his tongue in frustration and leaves the classroom for some reason.

Masato Hijirikawa: … Heh. He truly is something…

Haruka Nanami: He really likes competitions, huh…

Masato Hijirikawa: Perhaps that’s it.

Upon seeing Jinguji-san like this, Hijirikawa-sama and I look at each other and start laughing.

Haruka Nanami: Haaah, Hijirikawa-sama was so beautiful… I, on the other hand���

There isn’t anything beautiful about the face reflected in the mirror.

Haruka Nanami: It’s no good… No matter how much I smile, I don’t see anyone but plain, old me! … Comparing was a mistake.

Haruka Nanami: I’m sorryyy!

Tomochika Shibuya: Haruka? Why are you saying sorry to the mirror?

Haruka Nanami: Ah, Tomo-chan… Erm… to tell you the truth…

I tell Tomo-chan what happened today.

Tomochika Shibuya: I see… Masa-yan was that beautiful a woman…

Haruka Nanami: Not just that!! Beautiful is an understatement! I even wondered if his beauty was actually a miracle…

Tomochika Shibuya: THAT beautiful!?

Haruka Nanami: And inversely, I felt that I’m just utterly plain…

Tomochika Shibuya: You think so? I think you’re plenty cute. You’re unusually naive for this day and age. Well, you’re kind of an airhead, but…

Tomochika Shibuya: There’s an earnest, hard worker inside this clumsy girl… Not to mention you’re honest! If I were a guy I’d definitely have my eye on you!

Haruka Nanami: H-have your eye on me…

Tomochika Shibuya: Well, me aside… Since you’re plenty cute, please have more confidence! You have your good qualities, don’t you?

Haruka Nanami: Qualities…? If we’re speaking of things I’m able to do, then...

Select the Phrase!

作曲！Composing! (+0 Love +15 Music)

Haruka Nanami: That’s right! Looks aren’t everything! Thank you, Tomo-chan.

Haruka Nanami: I have to work harder and make a good song.

Then, I start playing the piano.

I’ll do what I can. Because there are definitely things I can help with.

I can’t forget that.

Tomochika Shibuya: That’s not exactly what I meant… but that’s kinda like you, after all…

Either way, I’ll do the best I can! That’s the most important thing, unquestionably!

Mini Game

Ringo Tsukimiya: You’ve already learned enough of the basics by now. From here on, it’ll get more serious!

Ringo Tsukimiya: The arrangement of your assigned song has already been done in composition classes.

Ringo Tsukimiya: I’m thinking I’ll have you actually perform that song today~!

Ringo Tsukimiya: Once you actually perform it, you’ll understand things that you didn’t notice from just the score, and your understanding of the song will deepen.

Ringo Tsukimiya: Oh, before I forget! The performance level of the song will be included in the evaluation, so please do your best~!

Ringo Tsukimiya: Everything’s ready on my part. Please start whenever you’re ready!

S Perfect Rank

Masato Hijirikawa: Those are wonderful results. Your talent is gradually blooming… I feel truly fortunate to be able to witness it right in front of me. Please, I want you to continue to stay by my side.

Haruka Nanami: I will. I’ll stay by your side forever and ever…

Chapter End

[rafor]

Chapter 45 - The Bright City - The Glitch

I opened my eyes at last. I had thought I was dead, or perhaps I still was. I found myself in an unfamiliar place, and for a moment I wondered if I had gone blind, but then I saw my own body. It was still me, unchanged. But everything else around me was white. A dazzling white that seared my eyes. It wasn’t smoke, fog, or anything like that. I felt solid ground beneath my feet. I reached down and touched it, feeling a rough texture like stones, but I couldn’t see it. I felt lost and afraid, so I shouted for help. “Hey, is anyone there?” It was a clichéd move, asking for help in a seemingly empty place. But then a dragon appeared with a familiar face. He was similar to me in color, but his wings were different. He greeted me, “Hi Raphael.” I recognized his voice and exclaimed, “Zeno? Is that really you?” He confirmed, “It’s me. Nice to see you.” I asked him, “What? Where are we?” He asked me back, “Can’t you see it?” I couldn’t, but gradually my vision was adjusting, and I began to see the road I was standing on and the buildings around me. I realized I was in a square, surrounded by other dragons, all light dragons, who looked at me with curiosity and confusion. I said to him, “Are we in a city?” He welcomed me, saying, “Welcome to the Bright City.” I asked him, “Wait, how did I get here?” He said, “Mmm, let’s see,” and conjured up a dark ring with some golden and white symbols at its edges. In the ring, I could see the arena and everyone who was still there. He continued, “There’s Fyrenthos, Akira, and Freya, and also you. I think you might have died.” I protested, “What? No, it can’t be. I was healing. I saw that. I was fine.” He pointed out, “There’s a light sword and a light dragon holding it. I can only guess, but by seeing you here, I think you might have been wounded by it.” I argued, “That light dragon just tried to kill me with it, but I remember surviving, not dying.” He asked me, “Did you get hit by it?” I admitted, “It hit me while I turned myself into black smoke using the dark element, but still, it didn’t kill me.” He explained, “Whatever happened, even while in that form, it hit you. There’s no way to survive that if you have even a trace of the dark element in you, which you do.” I kept looking at the arena. I saw Freya getting furious at them and ready to unleash her rage on both Akira and Fyrenthos as they were trying to reason with her. Fyrenthos kept apologizing, “We’re sorry. We didn’t mean to kill him, I swear,” but Akira made it worse by saying, “We just did you a favor. That little bastard is now going to face the judgment of those above us. You won’t see him ever again.” She was insane. I told Zeno, “If we don’t do something, someone else is going to die soon.” He replied, “She isn’t wrong. You have already passed a judgment,” and he paused there. I asked him, “What kind of judgment?” He told me, “After you died, you were brought here, but since you haven’t fallen into the void yet, that means that you’re free from any crime that could condemn you.” I asked him, “So this is some kind of heaven?” He said, “Not really. This is just a step between eternal death and life. While you’re here, there’s still a way back to the real world.” I said eagerly , “That sounds great. How can I get back there? I can’t leave Freya alone."

He smiled and said, “I had already intended to send you back. You have a bright future ahead of you, Raphael. I’m glad you appreciate the body we share, but perhaps we could make some alterations.” I wondered, “I never said that, but is this your same body? Am I a clone then?” He clarified, “Only a replica of my physique, nothing more. You may have also resurrected a son who would bear my genetic mark, if we were to verify.” I exclaimed, “Oh man, this sounds so wrong. Did I have the right to do this?” He assured me, “If you didn’t, I wouldn’t have granted you the opportunity. You have a chance to live, and I will give you another one, as long as you desire.”

I looked around as I was about to say that I was ready to leave, but I noticed a detail and inquired about it. “Why are there only light dragons here and a single dragon like me and you who are different from everyone else? Are you a shadow dragon?” He answered, “An interesting question. Indeed, I am, and usually only light dragons cross the first wall and settle here. So I can only surmise that we are an exception.” I said, “I suppose I was fortunate then. Anyway, why don’t you want to return to the world? I could offer you a place in the city if you wish. Maybe repay the debt that I owe you for giving me a way back?” He declined, “I appreciate your offer, but I have to refuse. I’m needed here, but maybe one day I’ll come for a visit. Besides that, I might adopt your appearance to avoid being slain by Solara.” I asked, “Do you know her? Also, wasn’t I the one borrowing your appearance?” He chuckled and said, “Oh yes, I know her. Well, not personally, but don’t worry about it.”

I thanked him again and said, “Well then. Shall we proceed to send me back to the sender?” He gestured towards the portal and said, “Proceed. That’s the gateway. It will take you back where you wish.” I asked, “Just like that?” He said, “If you know where to go, sure. What are you waiting for?” I said, "Oh, nothing. I was just amazed by the city. Is there any way to come back here without a dreadful event like death?” He said, “Once you master the secrets of the light element, you’ll find the way back here.” I asked with curiosity, “May I know what that secret is?” He shook his head and said, “Sorry, but that’s something you have to discover yourself. Anyway, I’m sure you’ll learn it. Good luck.”

I approached the portal, ready to leave, and said, “It doesn’t matter. I will. Thank you again for everything, Zeno.”. He said as I was entering the portal, "Oh, and one last thing. I gave you a little gift.” But his words were lost as I crossed over.

As I emerged from the portal, I felt a jolt of reality hit me. I was back in the arena, bathed in a radiant light that made me look like a celestial being. Freya spotted me and cried out, “Nox?!” She halted the raging typhoon that had trapped Fyrenthos and Akira in its vortex. I quipped, “Back from the afterlife, just for you.” Akira hurled a curse at me: “Cut it off already, you fucking lucky bastard!” Fyrenthos silenced her with a stern warning: “Maybe it’s time for you to actually shut up. You’re going to get both of us killed like this.” Freya soared into the air and zoomed towards me with incredible speed. She caught me in mid-air and exclaimed, “I thought I lost you!” I reassured her, “I’d never leave you. You can’t lose me, my dear sweetie queen.” She wrapped her arms around me and hugged me with all her might. Tears streamed down her face as she buried her head next to my neck. I hugged her back, feeling a surge of emotion. Akira snorted to Fyrenthos, “Why didn’t you do the same when I died too?” She replied, “You killed yourself on a suicide mission. It was different. And you didn't come back like that; he looks holy compared to you.” He had no comeback.

We descended to the ground, where a crowd of dragons had gathered around us, curious about the light that had enveloped me or the typhoon that Freya had conjured. I also spotted Solara flying towards us from afar. The guards kept the onlookers at bay and gave us some space, as we were still savoring our reunion. Akira shouted, “While you’re at it, kiss.” Fyrenthos snapped at her, “Enough. I’m going to cut your damn tongue, I swear.” We ignored them. We didn’t kiss either. Solara landed in the center of the arena, scattering everyone away as she feared we were in danger. She yelled, “Away from the Queen and the King!” We didn’t respond. The world around us seemed distant and irrelevant. We couldn’t let go of each other. Solara asked us, “Are you ok? Wait, Nox, is that you?” I replied, “It’s me, Solara. Why?” She said, “Your wings look different.” I tried to glance at them, but Freya’s head blocked my view. Freya said, “Oh, look!” She released me and spread my wings. She gasped, “No way, they look like the night sky.” I opened my other wing to get a better look. I said, “Wow, I didn’t notice. How do you think they look?” She said, “They’re beautiful! Like everything else.” Indeed, I had undergone some changes in my appearance. My marks now glowed, my wings were translucent and studded with stars, my body was more lustrous than before, and my horns were significantly larger, which was the only change I didn’t like. They were already bothersome enough. Now they were even more so.

We told everyone that there was nothing to worry about and that everything was fine. Everyone dispersed after hearing our words. Solara stayed a bit longer and asked us what had happened. Freya and I recounted our story while Fyrenthos and Akira kept a safe distance, bickering with each other but not leaving.

I persuaded Freya to spare Akira from any punishment for her actions. I harbored no resentment towards her, and I wanted to clear the air between us. So I approached her and said, “Akira, can we talk?”

She snapped, “What? No thanks.”

Fyrenthos intervened, “Akira...”

She sighed. “Ok, fine, what is it?”

I asked, “Why do you despise me so much? I knew I was your pawn. I remember everything, but you still blame me for something that was beyond my control. How can I earn your forgiveness? Maybe I could thank you for teaching me the lethal nature of a light sword?”

She scoffed, “Since when did you become so wise, King Raphael Nox?”

I said, “You’re already deflecting. Please, could you be a little more mature? You don’t want to be outsmarted by your pawn, do you?”

She paused, and I could see a flicker of doubt in her eyes. She realized something and said, “You ruined my life. Everything changed because of you, from the day you arrived to the day that you left.”

I said, “And how is that my fault? I didn’t choose to come here and disrupt everything. I didn’t see the vision that you shared with everyone except me. You made all the decisions on your own, and I have to say, thank you for doing so.”

She said, “You’re welcome then. You also did something for me,” and she glanced at Fyrenthos. He was still upset with her, but he took a deep breath and said with his remarkable patience, “We’ve grown a lot since then. We learned to trust each other, and now we’re unstoppable.”

Freya said, “We’ll see about that. If you’re up for it, after you get some rest, we could have a duel tomorrow. But with one new rule: no light swords or anything lethal. We don’t want anyone to die.”

I chuckled and said, “Oh, and thanks to you, I also got to see the light city. It’s real, you know? They call it the Bright City.”

She said, “Are you kidding me? I only had visions of it. I don’t know if it really exists.”

I said, “I assure you that I saw it with my own eyes, and it’s real. Thank you for giving me a chance to visit it.”

She looked incredulous and then said, “You’re welcome then. I’m sorry for sending you there against your will. Ehehe…” She changed her expression. Her eyes were filled with sorrow. She threw herself into Fyrenthos’s arms and whispered to him, “What’s wrong with me?!”

He said softly, “Oh, little miss, nothing is wrong with you. You just have to not let your emotions get the best of you. Come on, I’m here. Let it all out.”

She sobbed uncontrollably, and we decided that maybe it was time to return to the palace and leave the past behind.

We offered Fyrenthos and Akira a guest room in the palace for the night, but not before we invited them to dine with us. Our sons Zephyrion and Vesper also joined us at the table, where we enjoyed a lively conversation. It had been a long time since we used the royal table, which could seat more than fifty dragons and wyverns. We felt awkward occupying only four seats, and I wondered about the history of this kingdom. Did it once have a large royal family that had vanished? Was it connected to the fallen kingdom of the Wyverns?

After dinner, we suggested that they accompany us on a flight outside, as was our custom. But they politely declined, saying they were exhausted. We realized then that we were also weary and that the hour was late. We had lingered at the table longer than usual, chatting with our guests and introducing them to our sons, who bombarded them with questions about their identities and origins. We bid them good night and retired to our rooms. We had no qualms about sharing a bed with our partners. I was looking forward to a good night’s sleep, but Freya had other ideas.

She began to tell me how distraught she had been when she thought she had lost me and what horrible things she had planned to do to our guests if I hadn’t returned in time. Her words were so sadistic that I shuddered with fear. Then she switched to a sweet tone and cuddled up to me in bed. She whispered, “All this makes me wonder: should we expand our family?” I was puzzled by her question and replied, “I don’t think we can adopt our guests as family members. They probably have their own plans.” She glared at me with menacing eyes, then moved closer. Too close. She said, “I wasn’t talking about them. I was talking about us, our bloodline.” Then it dawned on me what she meant. Oh no, what had I gotten myself into!

[mosylufanfic]

Awkward first meeting themed #7. Rebelcaptain.

“You found me hanging by my fingertips from your window and i don’t want to tell you i was trying to rob you but idk how else to explain this and i don’t want to go to jail and also you’re kind of cute we should make out when i’m not clinging onto your window ledge for my life”

Initially I thought of this as a modern AU, but this canon possibility occurred and it tickled me pink.

Need a Hand?

"Well, kriff," Jyn muttered to herself.

Her fingers were starting to hurt. The wind snatched at her clothes and whipped her hair around her head.

She didn't need to turn her head to know how far down it was. She'd overestimated that damn ledge was what she'd done. The window had popped open, taking her by surprise, and her foot had slipped right off. It was a miracle she'd caught herself. No thanks to the cheap-ass rope she'd paid too much for, which had snapped the second she fell. 

No rope, and she didn't have any purchase for her feet except flat wall no matter how she flailed her legs. Her fingers really hurt now, and the wind was chilling them almost numb. When they did go numb, down she'd go.

"Hello?"

She went tense all over - well. Tenser. 

"Who's out there?"

She thought frantically. Absolutely no non-criminal reason for clinging to the wall ten stories up, right outside a general's personal office, occurred to her.

A head popped out of the open window. Dark hair caught by the wind, razor-sharp beard and mustache. Kind of cute. For a fucking Imperial. Because she could see the ugly olive-green uniform with all its rigidly straight lines. 

Just her luck that not only had she miscalculated the ledge and gotten a piece of shit rope, she'd gotten bad intel on the office's schedule. According to that, everyone was supposed to be out all afternoon, but clearly they were not. 

Damn. She was dead. 

Although she was dead if her hands slipped. 

Either way, it didn't look good. 

He looked down and spotted her. His brows furrowed. "Hi," he said after a moment. 

HI? What happened to blustery bellows? You there! What do you think you're up to? Guards! Guards!!

None of that. Weird. 

"Hi," she said, because it had been a good fifteen seconds since he'd greeted her, and he was looking like he had more questions for every one of those.. 

"Can I help you?" he said. 

Another shocker. "Me? Nah. I'm fine."

"Mmm. Yes. You look fine." He reached down. "It makes me nervous. Have pity."

Saw would have told her to dramatically reject his offered help and fling herself to the winds. But Saw wasn't here, was he? He'd fucking abandoned her on Tamsye Prime last year. So whatever he would have done, she'd do the opposite. See how he liked that.

"Oh, well, if you insist," she said, and felt his warm hands clamp over her wrists. She went tense again.

"Grab onto my wrists," he said. "Then you can get your feet braced."

Gripping his wrists as tightly as her chilled fingers would permit, she anchored her feet to the side of the building, leaning back. A sudden fear that she'd pull them both over froze her intestines, but he simply leaned back in his turn, counterbalancing her as she walked up the side of the building until she could get one leg over the windowsill and tumble into the room.

Ground! Solid ground. She could kiss it. 

That's if this Imperial here didn't shoot her. Although he could have let her fall, so - 

"Thanks," she said, flexing her aching fingers and then tucking her hands into her armpits to warm them up. They tingled as they thawed.

"No trouble," he said, scrupulously polite. 

He wasn't the general. She'd studied too many holos of the man, red-faced and smug in front of all his valuables, to make that mistake. But he must be some kind of lackey or factotum or assistant, and as such, he was almost as dangerous.

And yes, damn it, it wasn't adrenaline-based horniness. He was cute. And young - not more than ten years her senior if she had to guess. Maybe as little as five. But literal scum of the earth could be good-looking, she supposed, and everyone had to be young once. 

He looked her up and down. "Do your parents know where you are?"

Her teeth snapped together. She hoped it looked like a petulant teen's annoyance instead of her instinctive rage every time someone made her think of Galen Erso.  "Of course they do." She emphasized her Core accent as much as she could, hoping to transform herself into a silly, bored high society teenager. 

He made a skeptical noise. "What were you doing out there, anyway?"

She shrugged one shoulder. "You know. Taking the air." 

"Taking," he said. "The air."

"Mmmhmmm." She flexed her fingers again and smoothed her wind-whipped hair back. "Very refreshing. All the rage. You know us young people. It's quite the fad these days. Hanging out on window ledges ten stories up."

"Dangerous fad," he said, moving back in front of the desk and frowning at what looked like a datapad.

"Well, that's what makes it fun. The possibility of falling to your splattery death." Since his attention was diverted, she sidled up next to a set of shelves and swiped a tiny gold statue from behind several others, where it would be least missed. 

"Not to mention the possibility of somebody thinking you might be trying to rob a place."

Her fingers convulsed around an ugly crystal swan that would fetch at least five hundred credits with her favorite fence. "I mean," she said as the swan's wings cut into her palms. "There's that."

She tucked her hand behind her back and gently dropped the swan into her bag. Then she curled her fingers around the tiny blaster she had tucked into an inside pocket. Would it shoot through her bag? 

He tapped something on his pad. "You're going to tell me that makes it more fun, aren't you?"

"Oh, yeah," she said. "Although you lose the game, so - uh, can I ask a question?"

"You can ask."

"Why are you trying to break into your boss's desk?"

At that, he did look up. "Now, what makes you think that?"

"That lock cracker you're holding." She gestured. 

His eyes flickered. For a moment, she thought, He's dangerous.

And not in the way that Imperials were usually dangerous, with the weight of power behind their bullying. But dangerous in that he could take care of her, and then her body, in about twenty seconds, and go back to breaking into that desk without a thought. 

Then he smiled. "Why do you think?"

She let out her breath. 

She'd always heard that the Imperial brass spent all their time backstabbing and climbing over each other, but it was a surprise to find actual espionage going on. Well, hell, maybe they'd blame him for the missing trinkets. Seemed like the kind of petty thing an Imperial would do. 

It didn't escape her notice that he hadn't exactly answered her question. But she didn't pursue it, and she let go of the blaster. 

Since her hand was free, she swiped a tiny box, positioned front and center of the trinket shelf, that would feed her for a month.

"You know," he said, back to frowning at the cracker, "that's all chump change on that shelf there. You want the real stuff, check the top shelf." 

She looked up. The top shelf was well above six feet off the ground. Easy for him. Doable for her if she climbed. But she felt like she'd had enough of climbing for the day. 

She considered him. He hissed through his teeth as the lock resisted yet another attempt. 

"Give me that cracker," she said. "You get me something off the top shelf. We'll call it even."

He gave her a long look, then handed it over and went to the shelf, reaching up.

"Nope," she called out. "Too distinctive." She'd never shift it. "Not that one. Yeah. Yeah, that one." The lock clicked loudly. "Okay, you're in."

"That was fast," he remarked, handing her a vase that looked about six hundred years old and tucking the lock cracker into some inner pocket. 

"I'm good," she said, wrapping the vase and the swan in a length of padded cloth she'd packed for just that purpose. 

She watched him spray his hands with something that looked an awful lot like the sealing spray she had on her own fingertips. So you wouldn't leave fingerprints behind.

He pulled paperwork out, riffled through it, found what he was looking for, and scanned it with a wand from his pocket. He dropped all the flimsi carelessly on the floor, including the one he'd scanned, and pulled out another drawer to do the same. 

"Oh, do you want this?" he asked. 

She accepted the jewelry box and found it held a pair of incredibly ugly earrings, jammed with gems and filigree. "Nice," she said. She could pop the stones and melt down the settings. "Gaudy. But good quality. General's a bit of a glitter hound, is he?"

"Oh, they're not for him," he said, pursing his lips over another piece of flimsi. "They're for his eighteen-year-old step-niece who visits dear old Step-Uncle an awful lot lately."

That was only a year older than her. "Gross," she said. "If you know that already, why are you breaking in instead of blackmailing him?"

"I could," he allowed. "But it lacks poetry. Finesse."

"Plausible deniability?"

"That too." He tossed more flimsi to the floor.

"You're going to blame me for this, aren't you?" She watched him, narrow-eyed. Easy enough for him to help her now, then sound the alarm when he'd got what he wanted, and get all the recognition of having caught a burglar. Her fingers inched toward the little blaster again. 

"Absolutely," he said, scanning yet another paper. "Or rather, everyone else is going to blame the mysterious robber who vanished without a trace. And you're going to be far enough away in a short enough amount of time that you won't care."

She relaxed. He could be lying. But she didn't think so. "No. I won't care."

He checked the last two drawers, dumped them for good measure, and got to his feet. "Going out the same way you came in?"

"That was the plan. But I'm open to suggestions." She watched curiously as he selected an apparently random holo from a display ledge, then swept the rest to the floor in a mess of shattering glass and short-circuiting electronics. 

"General's private elevator," he said, waving a hand at the blank wall with a panel set about elbow-height. "Goes all the way down or all the way up. Your choice."

"Don't those have cameras? Records?"

"Not if you're using the step-niece's personal code," he said. She was somehow unsurprised to see him punching it in and the door zipping open. 

She peered in, noting the camera in the top corner and that its light was off. She scraped her hair over her face anyway before stepping in. "You coming?"

"Oh, I have my own way out," he said. "Don't worry about me."

"I wasn't."

He handed her the picture he held. "The frame should fetch you a nice price."

"Thanks for the help," she said, selecting the button that would take her to the bottom-most parking level.

"Don't mention it," he said. "Really. Ever."

As the elevator plunged downward, she studied the picture he'd given her. It was a bog-standard office holo, everyone standing stiffly, fake smiles plastered over bared teeth. At the back of the group, half-hidden by someone's shoulder and head, was a patch of dark hair and a bearded cheek that might have been the man who'd been searching the office she'd just left. 

"Hmmm," she murmured, and deleted the picture. 

What a weird heist that had been.

FINIS

[strawberrymilkgeorge]

Part Seventeen. The Bugity Stream

warnings: swearing, dream is jealous, kinda angsty word count: 4k (not including pictures)

behind the screen (irl dream x f!reader) series masterlist ultimate masterlist wattpad

a/n: heheheeee bugity stream!! barely any dreamsy interaction and we don’t read the actual bugity fanfics, but lots of pouty dream :/ and we’re seeing stuff from a new person’s POV (also, elmo and i 389757% have come up with lore for the foxtrot fic that they mention in this chapter..... side fic??)  everyone say THANK YOU HARVEY FOR BEING AN AMAZING BETA (@hungoverhellhound) ur the best :)  also also, 🦀 anon suggested using discord people’s names for twitch chat so i did!! (i asked beforehand and everyone who wanted to be included was) it was fun adding that little bit so hehe hope mushroom field likes their comments

ANYWAY, ENJOY THIS PART!!!!!!!!! and as always, thanks for all the positive comments and stuff yall really make me cry /pos 

**********

George’s POV

.

George left the messaging app when he received a spam of notifications from Dream on Discord telling him to call him as soon as possible. He knew it wasn’t an actual emergency, which is the only reason he took his sweet time rising from his bed and meandering over to his desk. George fell on his chair with a huff, taking a deep breath before pulling himself closer to his desk and opening Discord. He picked up his headphones and slid them on, preparing himself for the loud voice his best friend was about to use. After pressing a few familiar buttons, he could hear his best friend's frantic cry for help through his headphones.

“GEORGE.”

He tried his hardest not to roll his eyes. “Dream.”

“I'm-I’m going to literally—GEORGE. What am I supposed to do?”

“About what?”

“You know what!” Dream huffed, exasperated. “The stream!”

“You don’t even know what it is, why are you being so weird about it?”

“I’m not being weird,” he defended.

“Yes, you are,” George countered. “You’re, like, panicking, I dunno.”

“Because it’s Quackity! He’s probably gonna make, like, a proposal video or some shit to show her and then everyone is going to ship them and she’s going to forget about me and—”

“This wouldn’t be a problem if you tell her you like her.”

Dream scoffed. “Oh, so they can make fun of me for it? No, thanks.”

“She wouldn’t make fun of you for liking her,” George reasoned. Definitely not. “Why would Bugsy make fun of you for that? Or for anything in general?”  

“Okay, maybe not, but she’d definitely be weirded out or not believe me. I can’t tell her yet. It… it has to be the right time.”

George thought it was rather cute that Dream cared so much about his confession being perfect, whereas Quackity was doing everything he could to make Dream just say it. Dream had been stressing over how to tell her he liked her for a few weeks, constantly running ideas by George before telling him to forget it and coming up with new plans. He could see how important it was to Dream that he did it right. They just needed to figure out what “right” was.

“Fine, but I’m just saying if you told her already, you wouldn’t have to be so worried about this.”

“Should I be? You make it sound like me panicking is justified! WHAT ARE THEY DOING?”

“Stop being so dramatic!” George laughed. “She isn’t going to forget about you and if he proposes to her, we can just ask to join the call and we’ll all yell at Quackity for you, okay?”

“No, I wanna yell at Quackity.”

“Well, he said he’s not going to let you in the call so…”

“He did? When did he say that? Wait, why won’t he let me in?? What are they doing??”

George laughed at the franticness in Dream’s voice. “I’m not allowed to say.”

“George!”

“I can’t!” he said as he threw his hands into the air. “I literally can’t!”

“Oh come on, you’ve never kept a secret in your life but now you decide to?”

George shook his head. If only Dream knew how many secrets he was actually keeping, it would be obvious just how good George was at not spilling things.

“George, just tell me what they’re doing,” Dream begged, his voice now somber and genuinely worried instead of frantic. “Please.”

“I can’t, Dream. I’m sorry. But really, it’s going to be okay.” Hating the seriousness of the conversation and the oddly soft tone of his voice, George changed the subject. “Oh, look at that, Karl wants to join the call. I’ll add him,” he said quickly, knowing Dream wasn’t going to say anything about how much he liked Bugsy around her best friend. In Dream’s eyes, Karl was unaware of his feelings for Bugsy, and George assumed he wanted to keep it that way.

“Wait, George before you—” Dream started softly but was cut off by the sound of someone joining the call.

“Hey, Karl!” George greeted obliviously.

“Hi! Neither of you are streaming or recording or anything, right?” Karl asked.

“No,” Dream answered bluntly.

“We’re just waiting for Quackity to start his stream and we’re gonna watch together.”

“Oh, yeah!” Karl cackled. “You really wanna see it, Dream? Even though Quackity will probably hit on Bugsy?”

“Yeah, why should I care?” he faked disinterest, even though everyone in the call knew he would definitely care if that happened. “It probably will be funny, to be fair. And since Bug will be too busy to talk to me, I guess I can still, you know, hear her voice…” he trailed off to an almost inaudible volume and George smiled, deciding not to tease the younger boy for the sweet sentiment.

“I'll watch it with you,” Karl said. “We can all make fun of them together.”

George noted the long pause of silence before Dream softly asked, “Do you know what they’re doing, Karl?”

“Yup!”

“W-what is it?”

“Mmm, can’t say! Sorry!” Karl chirped in fake obliviousness. “Why do you want to know?”

George rolled his eyes; he knew what Karl was doing, pretending like he didn’t already know Dream would be jealous in hopes that Dream would spill to him. It’s like he and Quackity enjoyed causing Dream pain, pushing him to the edge in situations where he couldn’t vent his feelings, forcing him to keep it inside and build it up in an overwhelming pile of emotions.

“Just… curious,” Dream lied.

“I guess you’ll just have to wait and see,” Karl said nonchalantly. “I’m gonna be honest though, George, can I just say, I’m a little annoyed with them.”

George laughed. “Really, why?”

Karl hummed, choosing his words carefully. “It might mess things up,” he said softly.

“Yeah, I’m starting to see what you mean by that,” George admitted vaguely. In the few minutes he had been talking to Dream, he could already tell it wasn’t going to go over well with the blond boy.

“Can you guys just… tell me what they’re doing?” Dream tried again, the desperation spilling out of him. “Why is it a big deal? What would it mess up?”

Karl giggled again. “Bugsy and Quackity like keeping their fans on their toes, you know? As Bugsy’s number one fan it would be the worst to tell you.”

“Well, I’m also Quackity’s number one anti right now so it cancels out,” Dream reasoned. “So you can tell me.”

“Aw, he admitted he’s her number one fan!” Karl teased.

Dream groaned when he realized he wouldn’t get anywhere by repeatedly asking the same question. In other words, he gave up. “When are they supposed to start?”

“Um, soon I think?” George answered vaguely as he opened Twitch on his other monitor. “He’s not live yet but he Tweeted earlier that it would be around now.”

There were a few moments of silence before Karl spoke up. “So, how have you guys been today?”

“Mm, pretty good,” George admitted, scrolling through Twitter on his phone and pretending to not hear Dream’s pitiful sighs. “Kinda slow, but not bad. What about you?”

“Good, actually. Bugsy, Naomi, and I went out for lunch earlier which was fun. Speaking of…” Karl giggled. “Naomi? And you? What’s up?”

George felt himself turn red at the mention of their relationship, whatever it was. “Why don’t you ask her?”

“I have,” he admitted happily. “I just want to make sure your stories line up.”

“Karl! No, that’s-that’s… I’m not telling you anything now.”

“George doesn’t talk about feelings, Karl. He’s not going to tell you. I know his side of the story though,” Dream said. “He’s told me.”

“What did he say?”

“I could tell you,” Dream bargained, attempting to get the information he wanted in any way possible, “if you tell me what Quackity and Bug are streaming.”

Karl cackled. “Woah, woah, woah, Dream. I don’t need to know that bad. Dang, you’re really impatient!”

“Yes, okay!” Dream snapped, annoyance in his voice. “Sue me for wanting to know what super top-secret thing that the girl I really like and the boy who constantly publicly flirts with her are doing! Because it’s obviously not just a cooking stream or roblox or else you guys wouldn’t act like the FBI put you in charge of keeping it from me. And don’t give me that garbage and ask why I assume it’s something flirty just because it’s being kept from me. I know that all of you are aware of how much I like her so Quackity is definitely doing it on purpose. Literally everyone except maybe Y/n knows I like her, I know that. So yes I want to know and yes I’m worried about what the fucking stream is.”

George and Karl were silent for a few moments, processing his rant. Maybe Karl was right, maybe it was stupid of Y/n to try to make him jealous this way. Sure, jealous Dream was entertaining, but when was it too far? Would Dream think them reading fanfiction together was funny at all or just purely exasperating? George started to think the latter was more likely.

“Shit,” Karl mumbled. “Dream—”

“Dream, I promise there’s nothing to actually be worried about,” George tried reassuring.

“Yeah, you’ll probably get jealous and it’s very understandable if you do but… Quackity’s just messing around,” Karl added.

Dream took a deep breath and almost on cue, George got a notification from Twitter that Quackity had tweeted.

“He’s live,” Karl announced softly and they waited to hear Dream’s reaction once he saw the title.

It came softly, a voice of disbelief ringing through George’s headphones. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

“Hey, you’re already trending for your joke, that should make you happy,” Karl offered and Dream knocked something over on his desk.

“Shit,” he mumbled through the mic. “Shit, shit, shit. I spilled my—shit.” A few seconds passed and George took the silence to share his screen with the others so they could watch the video together. “No, Karl, that doesn’t make me feel better. It’s not really a joke. I mean, I’ll play it off as one but… wait, don’t share your screen,” he told George. “I don’t want to watch this shit.”

“You said you did.”

“That was when I didn’t know what it was,” he replied as if it was obvious. “I don’t want to watch them read fanfiction together.”

“He doesn’t actually like her,” Karl reminded gently.

“I don’t care, it’s still embarrassing for me! It’s just a fat reminder that she doesn’t like me back and that she’s not my girlfriend.”

George wanted to slam his head against a wall. He opted for his desk instead, his forehead coming in contact with the wood with a loud THUD. It was so hard to keep his mouth shut and not just tell him about Y/n’s feelings.

“It’s, like, Quackity is rubbing it in my face that she doesn’t like me. What an asshole.”

“That’s not what he’s trying to do,” Karl said. His voice sounded as in pain as George felt. Which one of them was going to break first and tell Dream?

He didn’t know how to use words that weren’t ‘Bugsy likes you, dipshit’, so he tried something else. “It might still be funny—”

Dream wasn't laughing. Nothing about this was funny to him. “George.” Frustration was evident in his sharp tone.

“I don't get what the big deal is—”

“They're-they’re reading fanfiction! It's just gonna be a bunch of, like, romantic stories about them and, what, I'm supposed to just watch?”

“You don't have to watch it if you don't want to. I'm sure Quackity won't mind losing one viewer—”

“George, I'm being serious.”

“Calm down,” he said gently. “It's just Quackity. We told you already, he doesn't like Bugsy like that.”

“Doesn’t mean I’m okay with this,” Dream mumbled.

George took a deep breath. He did understand how Dream was in an uncomfortable situation, and even if it wasn't a big deal to him, it was to Dream.

“Hey, Dream?” Karl started gently.

“What?” he spat. He sounded like he was seconds away from disconnecting and hiding in his bed or punching a wall or doing whatever it is Dream does when he’s upset.

Karl hesitated for way too long before saying, “We can do something else if you still want to hang out with us. I don’t want to force you to watch it if it really will upset you.”

Dream breathed deeply. “I’m being dramatic,” he admitted softly, reminding George of a little kid getting reprimanded by an adult. “We can… watch it, I guess.”

“You’re not being dramatic if that’s how you feel,” Karl reassured. When did he become a therapist? George sat back as he listened to them, biting his lips in order to not spill Y/n’s secret. “If it really does make you upset, then that’s that. You’re allowed to be jealous, I mean, I understand why you are. That was literally Quackity’s plan, we expected you to be.”

“I’m not allowed to be jealous, though,” Dream countered lightly. “She’s-she’s not my girlfriend. She’s allowed to do what she wants. I have no right feeling like… like…” he trailed off and sighed.

George raised his head to look at Dream’s Discord icon empathetically.

“I didn’t know you liked her this much,” Karl admitted. “I just thought… well, I don’t know what I thought.”

George agreed. They knew Dream was whipped for Bugsy and that watching a stream of Quackity and her read fanfiction together would piss him off a little, but this was different. He sounded utterly heartbroken.

“I really do,” Dream mumbled, his voice muffled by what George assumed was his hands on his face.

Internally screaming at himself to tell his best friend something that was guaranteed to make him feel better, George wrung his hands together. He looked at his second monitor, which still showed Quackity’s starting soon screen. “Dream?”

“What?”

“Tell her.”

“I can’t, it has to b—”

“It has to be perfect, I know,” George interrupted impatiently but gently. “Tell her soon.”

Dream’s next words came in a soft, embarrassed tone, no longer defensive and combative but rather nervous and contemplative. “What if she doesn’t believe me? Or she thinks I like her for the wrong reasons?”

“Do you mean because you haven’t seen her?” Karl asked sincerely. “Because of that idea her ex got stuck in her head?”

As if suddenly realizing he was in the presence of the person who knew Bugsy better than anyone, Dream’s voice perked up. “Karl,” he paused. “Can you promise me that you won’t tell her anything I tell you?”

“Yes,” Karl replied quickly. “I promise. I want to help you and if that means not telling her, I will.”

“You heard on Quackity’s stream that she and I were FaceTiming? Like, that I’ve seen her?”

“Yeah,” George and Karl replied together.

“I’m still bitter that I found that out from watching a stream instead of from my best friend,” Karl muttered, “but continue.”

George laughed through his nose at Karl’s comment before Dream explained his concern. “Since I didn’t tell Bug that I like her before I saw her, I’m worried she’ll think I only like her now because I know what she looks like. See my problem? If I told her before, she wouldn’t believe me but if I tell her now she might think it’s because of her looks.”

“Oh,” Karl said, his voice muffled behind his hand. “I see what you’re saying. Hm, that’s… I think... I could be wrong, but I’ve talked to Naomi and we both think she’s, like, realizing you don’t need to see someone to like them.”

“How do you figure?”

Karl hesitated. “Not important. But, I think it would be fine if you told her. I think you’ve proven that you like her for more than her looks and she’s blind if she couldn’t tell you liked her before.”

George nodded to himself. “Yeah, Naomi has mentioned that to me too. I think you guys are right. And yeah, Dream, you’ve clearly liked her before so she would understand.”

“What if it makes things weird between us?” Dream asked. “You know, telling her.”

“Trust us, it won’t make things weird.”

“How should I—”

Dream was interrupted abruptly by Quackity unmuting his stream and yelling, “CHAT! HOW ARE WE TODAY?” and laughing loudly.

George flinched at the sudden change in mood. Just as he and Karl were calming Dream down, Quackity went and made the air tense again. George could feel Dream’s anxiety slowly growing.

“Again, we don’t have to watch,” Karl offered but Dream made a noise in protest.

“Let’s watch.”

The atmosphere was tense to say the least, occasional comments trying to lighten the mood about Quackity or Bugsy being funny or stupid, but overall the voice call was quiet. George had no idea what to say to Dream and he could tell Karl didn’t either. Having the chat open wasn’t helping either.

user43: GEORGE IS HERE HE’S GONNA SNITCH TO DREAM libbbyyyyyyyyy: george george george he’s watching venus: bugsy simps getting FED today user13: wattpad writers watch out ItsRainingPastels: this is so funny!! Bugity interactions are amazing Chrimsss: foxtrot???? user71: READ. FOXTROT. cantaloupe: ajsdkfhj please the look on his face when bugsy said “that could be us” user92: FOXTROT NEXT FOXTROT NEXT user48: i'm surprised dream hasn't barged into chat or their call to yell at quackity yet noraimp: i’ve been saying bugity supremacy all along and no one believed me until now hungoverhellhound: stop saying foxtrot i WILL CRY user11: SUCK IT DREAM, BUGSY AND QUACKITY ARE BETTER FOR EACH OTHER bexwastaken: i miss dream :(

George took the liberty of closing the chat so Dream didn’t have to see it.

“Thanks,” he mumbled softly. Apparently that was a good choice on George’s part.

“Chat just gets in the way,” he excused, trying to place the decision on his own reasons rather than embarrass Dream by acknowledging that he knew seeing all the comments was bothering the younger

“This story is actually kinda funny,” Dream admitted. “Well, it’s super cringey but… it’s funny that Bug thinks it’s funny.”

Karl made a small whine in adoration. “That’s so cute.”

“Shut up,” Dream mumbled. “Or I won’t tell you anything ever again.”

“Were you going to?”

“Yeah, maybe, I guess,” Dream said. “If that’s okay with you. You know her better than anyone and… I obviously need advice or nothing is going to happen.”

“Dream,” Karl started formally, “I’d be honored to give you the best Bugsy advice I can offer. And to hear you say cute things like that about her because it’s adorable. I’m sure ranting about how cute she is to George is like talking to a brick wall.”

Dream hummed, a small laugh escaping him. “Yeah, that’s pretty accurate, actually. He’s not very responsive. He doesn’t get it.”

“I’m sure she’s pretty and all, I’m just not good at talking about people’s feelings,” George defended.

George tuned back into the stream as Quackity and Bugsy laughed loudly. “Oh my gosh, holy shit that was wild,” Quackity exclaimed.

“Yeah, what the heck? That was so funny,” Bugsy admitted, still laughing lightly.  

“Okay, okay, one down. Guys, stop spamming Foxtrot in my chat, what is that? Is that a fic? I said I already picked everything out, don’t suggest things.” Quackity looked at his phone and laughed. “Wait, I did pick that one out, actually.”

George assumed the chat was going wild and his curiosity got the best of him so he opened it.

user66: READ CHAPTER 10 hungoverhellhound: NOOO NO DON’T READ IT PLEASE I CAN’T HANDLE THIS TODAY venus: this isn’t going to go well libbbyyyyyyyyy: laksjdhjkh try not to fall in love with each other after this one ItsRainingPastels: ive heard things about this fic… everyone cries cantaloupe: YES YES noraimp: are they reading foxtr…. oh no user52: SKIP TO CHAP 10 bexwastaken: dream come get your girl smh Chrimsss: we’re about to watch bugity become real because of this fic user10: it starts slow, do chap 10 or 16!!!! user88: quack isnt in it until later lol

“They said it starts really slow though? I’m not in it until chapter 3?” Quackity scoffed. “Fine, we’ll skip ahead.”

“People are saying ‘Chapter 10’ so that one must be good?” Bugsy suggested and Quackity complied.

George closed the chat again when he registered Dream’s silence and apologized under his breath.

“Try not to fall in love because of this fic?” Quackity read. “Can’t happen because we already are in love, chat.”

Dream scoffed, mirroring Bugsy’s reaction. “In your dreams, duck boy.”

“You are, actually,” Quackity teased.

“Shut the fuck up, Quackity,” Dream grumbled to no one, and George couldn’t help but laugh a little at that.

Foxtrot — the fanfiction the chat was raving about — was really good. At least the chapter they read on the stream was. It was so well written and soft and George hadn’t heard Dream speak in a good 15 minutes. George didn’t dare look at chat after they finished reading that one, opening his phone to text Quackity instead.

“Hold on, one second, chat,” Quackity said, faking a British accent as he looked at his phone. “One second, chat.”

George looked up and saw Quackity smiling at his phone as he set it on his desk and returned to the stream. “Okay!”

George set his phone on his own desk before hearing Bugsy laugh. “Dream just texted me.”

“What did he say?” Quackity asked nervously.

“He’s…” she trailed off and laughed. “He wants to know if I’m leaving him for you. He said, ‘I understand if you have feelings for him after that’. Oh my gosh.” She giggled and George heard Dream laugh through his nose.

“Dream,” Karl laughed. “Why?”

“Do you realize how suspicious it would be if I didn’t make some sort of appearance during the stream after all the things I’ve said on Twitter and stuff? I had to joke around for the chat.”

“Fair…” George said.

“Is he watching?” Quackity asked Bugsy as if George hadn’t just told him they were. “Dream, go away. We aren’t letting you in VC. Just accept the truth,” he laughed loudly.

George shook his head to himself as he realized how much this wasn’t a joke just to mess with the fans. If it was, Quackity would have let Dream into their call so everyone could witness Dream be jealous but instead, he was almost banishing Dream to be jealous in private. The fans not seeing how Dream was actually feeling made it more real somehow. Quackity really wanted Dream and Bugsy to own up to their feelings.

“I want to strangle him,” Dream confessed jokingly. “At this point, I don’t even want to be in their call because I don’t have the energy to play up being sad. I’m just really sad.”

“I told him to stop reading actual cute ones, so it should be fine now,” George announced. “That last one was too much.”

“You’re telling me.”

“Quackity, I’m not falling in love with you,” Bugsy stood her ground with a laugh. “Not happening, bud.”

“We’ll just have to read more until you do,” Quackity cackled and George heard Dream huff.

The stream didn’t last too much longer, Quackity apparently not wanting to take the joke too far even though he already had.

“Thank god that’s over,” Dream mumbled as George unshared his screen and closed Twitch.

“It wasn’t too bad, right?” Karl asked slowly.

Dream hummed. “It was pretty bad, Karl.”

“Yeah, I know,” he sighed.

“But now it’s over and you can go back to talking to Bugsy and have her full attention,” George said positively.

“How am I supposed to talk to her after that?”

“Like normal?”

“What if she brings it up?”

“Then you say, ‘Bugsy, I don’t want to talk about this because I like you’,” Karl suggested. “Simple.”

“Okay, you are no help. No longer coming to you for advice.”

“I’m kidding! I’m kidding. Just… tell her it was funny but don’t elaborate. She’s good at picking up on when people are uncomfortable, she’ll drop it.”

“Or tell her you like her,” George agreed and Karl laughed as Dream groaned.

“No. Not yet.”

“Not yet,” George mimed. “But soon.”

Dream took another deep breath. “Soon.”

__________

PREVIOUS | NEXT

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[scuttling]

Some Assembly Required

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairings: Aaron Hotchner/Female Reader Word Count: 1,500 Tags: 18+, NSFW, Oral sex, Fingering, Unprotected sex, PWP Summary: When your very handy boyfriend Aaron helps put together your new office furniture, you repay his kindness the best way you know how. *Requested by @qtip-blog. Link to A03 or read below! You and Aaron have been dating for over a year, and the good times so heavily outweigh the bad it kind of blows your mind. Never before have you been in a relationship built on such mutual trust, respect, admiration—it makes you emotional to think about, he makes you emotional, all of his sweet words, his kind gestures, the ways he shows his love.

His favorite way to show he cares is to provide for you, whether it be a home-cooked meal (he’s not the best, but he’s trying,) or a book you’ve had your eye on but convinced yourself not to buy, or in this case, a new desk for your home office when the other one looked a little worse for wear.

You’re sitting on the couch one day, and he has his laptop open on his thighs, asks you to come closer and pick out the desk you’d like; you try to tell him you don’t need a new one, that the old one is still perfectly functional, but he won’t take no for an answer, wants to do this for you.

Never one to settle for bland surroundings, you choose a desk that is green, solid, that you think would look perfect in your office; you’re stuck there for hours on end, making calls and staring at a computer screen, so you might as well have something cool to look at while you’re working.

He smiles softly at your eclectic choice but adds it to his cart, and when it arrives he comes over in jeans and a t-shirt, looking like your own personal hunky handyman, and gets to work building it. You hand him screws, hold up the instructional pictures for him to look over, steal kisses, and within an hour your new desk is built, a perfect pop of color against the wall and something that will always remind you of Aaron when you look at it.

He rests his hands on it, presses down to test the load bearing capacity or something, and you look over his strong back, his denim clad ass and thighs, and suddenly you’re feeling very thankful and want to do something special to show your gratitude. You walk over to him, lift one of his hands, and slide between his body and the desk, set his hand back down so he’s caging you in against it. He raises an eyebrow, and you brush your fingers through his hair and pull him in for a kiss.

“Mmm. Is that what I get for putting together your desk? Because I’ll buy you all brand-new furniture if this is my reward.” He smooths his thumb over your chin, tips it up for more soft sips of lips, and you put your hands on his waist under his shirt, sigh.

“I’m just grateful for you. That you like to show me how much you care.” You sweep your palms up over his chest, back down to his hips, slowly flick open the button of his jeans. “Can I show you how much that means to me?” You slowly wet your lips, making your intentions very clear, and he nods his head and bends down for a series of increasingly rougher kisses that make your head spin. You tug open his fly, push his jeans and underwear down his legs, drop to your knees.

“Oh, baby,” he breathes when you take him in your mouth, both hands now pressed to the top of the desk for support. You stroke him slowly, suck softly at the first few inches of him in the way you know gradually drives him insane, look up through your lashes so he can see how flushed and aroused you are just by doing this for him.

The hand not holding him upright dips to caress his balls, and you pick up the pace a little, want to bring him off, want to hear him groan your name when he fills your mouth. He has other ideas, though, brings his hands to your cheeks and guides you off of him, pulls you up so he can kiss your soft, wet lips.

“I want to be inside you, sweetheart.” You hum, can’t deny that would be a delicious change of plans, and you slip your shorts and panties off while he pulls your t-shirt over your head. He lifts you up, sets your ass on top of your pretty new desk, and spreads your thighs. “So gorgeous,” he murmurs, and he steps out of his pants where they pool around his feet, tugs his shirt off so he’s gloriously naked, hard for you, perfect.

He leans in to kiss you, brings a hand to your pussy and rubs slowly, wets his lips when his fingers slip through your slick folds, resting against your entrance like he wants to slow down and take a moment to savor this. You gasp softly when he pushes two fingers inside, and you spread your legs wider, rolling your hips against his hand as he works you open enough to take his thick cock comfortably.

You plant your hands on his chest, pant against his lips and throat while he strokes his fingers inside you, and you squeeze your legs together and moan as you come on them, catching his praise with your softly open mouth. You tip your head back, swallow hard, and then push against his stomach so he’ll take a step back, let you hop off the desk.

He had offered to buy you a new chair to go with the desk, because your existing one is red, doesn’t really match—but you don’t care about matching, because it’s comfortable and set up just right; he hates it, though, and you’re about to make it your mission to change his mind.

“Sit for me?” you ask, pushing your hair away from your neck, because you’re overheated already and in need of some air there. He sinks back onto the chair, looks up at you like you’re already halfway to rocking his world—he always looks like that when you ride him, and it makes you feel really sexy and confident, which leads to even better sex; it’s a cycle of awesome orgasms you can’t resist initiating when you have a little extra time to feel him fall apart beneath you.

You push up the arms of the chair for a little more room, straddle his thighs with both feet on the ground, and line him up, slowly bend your knees to let him stretch you open. He sighs, puts his hands on your hips, squeezing tight, and you move up and down, taking him in all the way and then pulling off until he almost slips free. Your hands find his shoulders for leverage, and you look into his eyes as you sink down, lift off, slow and steady, covering him in your wetness and earning soft moans.

“So good, baby. So good at this, so perfect for me. God, I love you.” Your breathing gets rougher at his words and you move a hand to his head, weave your fingers into his hair, pull him close for a passionate kiss.

“I love you, Aaron. You fill me up just right.” You arch your back, legs working to bring you both slow, decadent pleasure, and he palms your ass, helps you move, takes a little of the pressure off of your thighs. “So good to me. You always take care of me, you always give me what I need.” He starts to lose control beneath you, pumping up to match your movements, and you settle into his lap, feet dangling off the ground, and just roll your hips, clutching his shoulders, moving fast.

“Oh, god, yeah. Just like that.” He brings his big hands to cover your breasts, squeezing them, rough fingers rubbing your nipples, and you throw your head back, hair falling behind you as you rock and grind and come with a whimper of his name. He thrusts harder to get you through it, to get you to make more wrecked, desperate sounds, and when he comes you both slam down hard and you can hear metal fall; you thank his quick reflexes, because he lifts you up and gets to his feet before the chair literally falls apart, bolts and a spring on the floor instead of wherever they’re supposed to be.

You gasp, laugh, tug his hair, and he chuckles and kisses you, breathless and sweaty as you both are.

“Guess I get to buy you a new chair after all,” he says, looking into your eyes, kissing your jaw, and you cling to him, grin.

“You better hope I can’t find another red one,” you pant, and he takes you to the bathroom to get cleaned up, and then you lounge on the couch while he pulls up a page of desk chairs for you to browse.

The new one is still red, but much, much sturdier than the last. Taglist ❤️: @thaddeusly @arsonhotchner @mrsh0tchner @ssahotchie @sleepyreaderreads @mintphoenix @meghannnnnn @disgruntledchowchow @azenpal @g-l-pierce @my-rosegold-soul @ssamorganhotchner @heliotropehotch @angelhotchner @qtip-blog @gspenc @wishuhadstayed @averyhotchner

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

Words: 9,067 Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: The prison Warnings: mentions of anxiety, language Summary: Y/N falls ill on a run and Daryl worries about what's wrong.

Your name: submit What is this?

You leaned back against the chain link fence as Daryl pulled out the bolt cutters and cut the chain around the gate. “Okay. Umm… canned pears,” you said, glancing over at the archer. He peered up at you through his curtain of wavy brown hair.

“Pears? Nah. Peaches.”

You straightened up as he heaved the gate open. “I prefer pears.”

“Canned pears are disgusting,” he said, raising his eyebrows at you.

“Fine! If we find some, more for me!” you said. He slung his crossbow back over his shoulder in a well-practiced habit and started to lead the way toward the building. You followed just slightly behind him, fingering the hilt of your knife.

When you reached the small loading dock, Daryl gave you a serious glance and set down his duffel bag. He pulled the bolt cutters out again. You nodded and he banged them harshly on the closed overhead door. You both strained your hearing after the metal rattling ceased. Nothing. It was silent. You grinned at him.

“Well, that’s good news,” you said, relaxing slightly.

“There could still be some in there stuck somewhere. Don’t let your guard down,” he said, clipping the lock off the mechanism keeping the door shut.

“You know I don’t let my guard down,” you countered.

“Mmm,” he hummed, focused on the task at hand. He replaced the bolt cutters in the duffel and checked the magazine of his pistol before sliding it back into the holster at his side.

“French-cut green beans,” you said suddenly.

His blue eyes shot back up to your face. “Green beans?” he repeated. “And what the hell does ‘French-cut’ mean?”

You laughed. “They’re, like, thin sliced lengthwise. Julienne cut.”

Daryl just kept staring at you like you were nuts. “Juli-what? Green beans,” he said again. You grinned. “I love canned green beans! Maybe even more than fresh ones… although I don’t think that’s true anymore since you can’t find fresh anything these days…”

He let out a scoff of a laugh and shook his head, turning back to his crossbow and fitting a bolt into the flight groove. “Yer nuts, ya know that?”

“You like it,” you said, lifting your boot and poking the toe into his butt. It elicited the exact response you wanted, which was a look he meant to be stern, but the crinkles at the corners of his eyes gave away his mutual amusement.

“Sometimes,” he said, straightening up.

“Well, what are you hoping we find in there? Besides canned peaches.”

He shrugged. “I dunno.” He reached for the door latch, getting ready to heave it open.

Your hand shot out and landed on his arm, stopping him. “Nuh uh! That’s not a good answer!”

He sighed, taking in your insistent and expectant expression. “How ‘bout a giant jar of garlic dill pickles?”

You nodded, pleased with his answer. “Much better. Okay. Ready,” you said, unsheathing your knife. Daryl took in the playful light that lingered in your eyes as you readied yourself for whatever you were about to find inside.

He heaved the overhead door open and the two of you stepped into the dim shipment receiving area, shoulder to shoulder. You both clicked on your flashlights and swept them over the room. Daryl led the way to a door in the far wall. “Bet this goes to the storage area,” he said quietly. You nodded, a little anxious, shifting your weight from one hip to the other.

Daryl knocked loudly on the door and again you both strained your hearing, listening for the tell-tale moaning and clawing of the dead. It was intensely quiet. You and Daryl exchanged a look and he reached for the door handle. You gave him a nod and he pushed into the next room.

You were hoping to find the stock of emergency supplies that had been put together shortly before the outbreak became all-consuming. They were to be sent as hurricane relief. But instead of the hoped-for stockpile, you found a mostly empty stockroom instead.

“Shit.” You stepped farther inside and kicked at a piece of discarded shrink wrap on the floor. “I guess someone else heard the same tip we did,” you said, shining your light over the empty shelves.

“Mmm. Or got real damn lucky,” Daryl said, his crossbow still raised. His light illuminating a nearby doorway into the main store area. “C’mon. Let’s just check out here.”

You followed behind him with your flashlight up and you hadn’t moved too far into the room before a wall of horrendous odor hit you. “Oh my God,” you said, pressing a hand over your nose and mouth.

Daryl’s light landed on the decomposing scattered bodies of walkers. “Somebody cleared the place out,” he said, crouching down to look at the inflicted wounds. “They’re all shot.”

“Oh, fuck,” you murmured, gagging at the smell. You doubled over and heaved a few breaths, struggling to stop the bile that was suddenly churning in your stomach.

Daryl glanced back at you over his shoulder, climbing to his feet when he saw how pale you looked. There were beads of sweat across your forehead. “Ya alright?” he asked, rushing over to you, overwhelmed with concern. He gently rubbed your back.

You were afraid if you spoke you were going to vomit so you waved a hand at him and did your best to steel yourself. When you felt like you could talk, you tried to straighten up. “I’m fine. I’m fine. Really. It’s just the smell—Ugh, it hit me hard. I think I just need some air…”

Daryl was staring at you with a deeply furrowed brow. “Ya sure?”

“Fine. I’m fine.” You felt another wave of nausea and shut your eyes against it. “I’ll be outside… Just finish looking around in here and I’ll—I’ll meet you out back,” you said. Daryl sweetly grabbed your hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. You met his blue eyes and saw they were darkened with concern. “I’m okay.”

The archer watched you retreat out into the fresh air, puzzled over the situation. He’d never seen you react to the smell of rotting bodies or gore that way. Hell, he’d seen you open up a walker’s stomach to check for meal contents. He’d seen you put down countless numbers of dead ones with an unhesitating knife to the skull. Just then he heard the unmistakable sound of you retching outside.

“Y/N?” He rushed outside to see you doubled over on the pavement a short distance from the door.

You straightened up at the sound of his bootsteps, your knees feeling a little shaky.

“You’re sick,” he said, a shadow growing on his face. “We gotta go. Get ya home.”

You looked miserable. “It’s just a stomach thing. It’s not a big deal,” you said, pulling out your water and rinsing out your mouth.

“Maybe it’s somethin’ ya ate. What’d ya have this mornin’?” he asked with anxiety.

You shook your head. “Can’t be that.”

“Food poisonin’? Why not?”

“Because I didn’t have anything,” you said, shoving your canteen back in your bag. “Did you finish up in there?” you asked.

He shook his head. “Nah, but don’t matter. I’m sure whoever put down all those walkers cleaned it out. Ain’t nothin’ gonna be in there anyway. C’mon. Let’s just get ya home,” he said, taking your pack from you and slinging it over his shoulder.

“Daryl, we came all this way. Don’t you want to—”

“Nah. What I want is to get ya home. You’re sick. C’mon,” he insisted. His face was clouded with worry as you wiped a shaky hand over your brow, surprised at the clamminess of your own skin.

You nodded. “Okay. Alright.”

You were still a little nauseous the whole drive back to the prison. You had the window down so the fresh air was on your face which helped some, but the churning in your stomach never really stopped. Daryl kept glancing over at you the whole time he was driving, checking the color of your face, watching carefully for any sign that you were worsening.

He reached over and rested his hand on your knee. You caught his blue eyes and smiled weakly. “Don’t look so worried. It’s nothing. Probably just the stagnant air in there or something,” you said, trying to reassure him.

He wasn’t convinced, but he nodded.

He felt better as soon as he had you back behind the safe walls of the prison. His hand rested lightly on your lower back as you both headed up toward the main building. Daryl spotted Hershel and Carol in the yard and stopped short. “Hey—I’m gonna grab Hershel to come take a look at ya. Go on and lay down,” he said, inclining his chin toward the building.

“I’m fine,” you said for what felt like the hundredth time. “You’re really making too much of this,” you said.

“Maybe. But better safe than sorry,” he said.

You gave him a weak smile and nodded, conceding to his sweet concern. “See you in a few?”

He nodded, grabbing your hand and giving it a squeeze before he jogged off toward Hershel.

It wasn’t long before he arrived at the space the two of you had claimed, Hershel and Carol in tow. You were laying on the mattress with his poncho draped over you. You looked tired, but Daryl was relieved to see that some of the color looked like it had come back into your face.

Hershel pulled up a chair as you sat up. “Feeling a bit under the weather? Let’s see if you’ve got a fever. After having kids, every parent turns into a human thermometer,” he said. He pressed a hand to your forehead. “No fever. Any other symptoms? Headache? Weakness? Feeling dizzy?”

You shook your head. “No. A bit tired. And just had some nausea.”

“She was pale and clammy before,” Daryl drawled, watching with worry. “She looks better now.”

Hershel nodded. “I see.”

“Really, I think it was just the smell of those rotting walkers. The air in there was heavy with decomp. It was like I could frickin’ taste it. Ugh, it was horrible,” you said. Your stomach turned again a little as you thought about it and you squeezed your eyes shut.

Hershel nodded. “Well, I don’t think there’s anything to worry about,” Hershel said.

Daryl shifted. “Ya sure?” the archer pressed him.

“I’m sure. Why don’t you go on and help Rick with that new water line? We’ll just get her some water and something to eat. Make sure she rests. But I don’t think there’s anything troubling.”

Daryl considered you for a moment and you gave him a smile. He seemed to feel reassured and he nodded. “Alright.” He crossed the space to you quickly and leaned down to place a kiss on your cheek. “I’ll be back in a bit,” he said, giving you one more parting glance. You smiled at him again and watched the wings on the back of his vest disappear down the stairs.

“So, I’m okay?” you asked, adjusting Daryl’s poncho over your lap. You watched Hershel and Carol exchange a look. You stomach twisted. “What? What is it?”

“It was the smell of the walkers that set off the nausea?” Carol asked.

“Yeah…” You stared at the two of them, perplexed. “What, you’re surprised that a bunch of rotting corpses in a closed-up store with no ventilation made me puke?”

“Well… a little, to be honest,” Hershel said gently.

You gave him a questioning look and then stared at Carol.

“We’re not saying that isn’t understandable. It’s just that you have never reacted that way before. And we’ve all seen you deal with rotting corpses before plenty of times,” Carol said. “You’ve never gotten sick.”

“I don’t get what you’re driving at. So, maybe I have a little stomach virus or something?” you said. “Is something wrong with me?”

“No. No, honey,” Carol said, grabbing your hand. She took a breath, her eyes searching your face. “Y/N, could you be… pregnant?”

You froze, a sudden, struck expression on your face. The doctor and Carol watched your eyes go a little round and wide, flitting back and forth as your mind whirred, like you were searching for the answer in the air over their shoulders. “Oh my God.”

Hershel and Carol watched your reaction carefully. You were as still as a stone statue.

“Oh my God,” you said again. “I didn’t even—” You shook your head slightly. “I didn’t realize, but—” You pressed a hand to your mouth. “Between never having enough to eat and the constant stress, I didn’t even notice that I—I mean, it’s not like we’ve been trying.”

“So, I’ll take that as a maybe,” Hershel said nodding. There was a spark in his eye as he peered at you kindly. “We’ll see about getting you a test.”

You looked back at Carol, your mouth dropping open and your eyes a little frantic. “Carol, what do I—? Daryl… He—" If it was true, you had no idea how the archer would react. Hell, at that moment you didn’t even know how you would react.

She gave you a concerned smile and squeezed your hand between her palms. “Let’s just take this a step at a time,” she said gently. “Okay?”

You gulped and nodded, suddenly reeling with anxiety. “Okay. Okay…”

Hershel climbed to his feet. “You rest. Carol and I will figure out getting a test for you. Probably just ask Glenn to make a run.” He read the anxiety on your face. “Either way this goes, it’s your decision what happens next,” he said gently. “Daryl is a good man. Try not to worry,” he said.

You nodded. “I know. I know… Okay.”

Carol followed Hershel out and you laid down on the mattress, pulling Daryl’s poncho up over you and curling your fingers into it, pressing your face close to the fabric and breathing in his smell. You laid awake for a while with your mind spinning, wondering how he would react to the news. It was always easy to picture your future with Daryl, even during what was seemingly the end of the world, but you’d never thought about the details beyond the two of you being together. And with the history of his parents, what he had gone through, you didn’t know what he would want as far as a family… That had never mattered to you before, but now that you were staring the possibility in the face you were suddenly wrecked with nerves.

Sometime later, the archer arrived to check on you, approaching the space you shared in the lofted area of the cell block quietly, expecting you to be sleeping. But he was surprised to see that, although you were in bed, your eyes were open and you rolled over at the sound of his quiet steps.

He was sweaty and coated in dust and mud that was in various stages of drying. He set his bow down beside the bed. “Ya ain’t sleepin’?” he drawled.

You shook your head.

“Why not?”

You shrugged. “Just couldn’t.”

His brow furrowed. “How are ya feelin’?”

“Fine. Just a little tired.” You smiled at his dirty and somewhat disheveled appearance. “Come here,” you said softly.

He glanced down at his mud-coated clothes and arms, and looked back up at you like you were nuts for that request. “M’filthy,” he said.

“I don’t care,” you replied. “Come here.” You moved over to make room for him to lay down beside you.

Daryl gave you a look, his blue eyes soft, and bent down to at least pull off his boots. He laid down facing you and his heart leapt as you moved into him closely, your arm draping over his waist. You moved your leg until it was tangled between his. He happily breathed in the scent of your hair.

“Ya okay? Really?” he asked, his deep voice a little heavy with gravel—the result of his concern.

You pulled back from him just enough so you could look into his handsome face. “Mhm. I’m fine. Really.”

He nodded and seemed to relax some, draping his arm over you, mirroring your position. You nuzzled into him again and for the first time since Hershel and Carol had left you alone, your mind quieted.

You felt him place a kiss in your hair and you smiled reflexively.

“I need to clean up. I’m gettin’ our bed all muddy,” he said. You felt the rumble of the bass in his voice.

“Can I come?” you asked softly. “I’ve felt gross since the run.”

He glanced down at you and nodded. “If I ever say no to that, ya can assume I’ve lost my damn mind.” He gave you a fond look and smoothed your hair gently. “Ya sure ya just don’t wanna sleep?”

“Mhm. I’m sure. Besides, I won’t be able to sleep unless you’re right here anyway.”

Daryl smiled, feeling a swell of affection for you and the way you always made him feel wanted and needed. “Alright. C’mon then.”

So, the two of you made your way to the showers and slipped into a private stall. Daryl pulled you into him under the stream of water and kissed your bare shoulders and up your neck, his arms smoothing over the curves of your sides and landing on the angles of your hips. You scrubbed away the mud from his skin and he smoothed the soapy lather over yours, loving the way his fingers glided over the shape of you. When you were both clean, Daryl shut off the water and wrapped you into him with his big towel causing you to laugh. “Gotcha,” he drawled.

“You do.” Your hand landed flush on his strong chest, your fingers splayed out, and you looked up at him, the corners of your eyes crinkled slightly in a smile. Daryl’s heart jumped every time you looked at him like that. He leaned forward and left a kiss on your nose, watching as your eyelashes fluttered closed.

You looked up at him again as he grabbed your towel for you and you both dried off before pulling on some clean clothes. Daryl watched you running a comb through your hair and studied the graceful movements of your hands. “Hey,” he said softly, drawing your eyes to him immediately. “Ya know I love ya, right?” He still looked a little bashful every time he said it. You didn’t mind.

Your face lit with a gentle smile and you closed the space to him in an instant, clasping his face in both of your hands. “I know. And you know, I love you, right?” you said.

Daryl’s lips found yours and you sank into each other for a moment. “I know,” he said when you broke apart. “C’mon. Ya need somethin’ to eat and then sleep.” He laced his fingers with yours and pulled you toward the cell block.

After a quiet supper with the rest of the group, the two of you wandered outside into the evening air to enjoy the stars for a few moments before heading up to bed. Daryl sat down on the soft grass and tilted his head at you, beckoning for you to come sit up against him. You sank down in front of him and leaned back. He wrapped his arms around you and rested his chin on your shoulder.

One thing Daryl always loved about you was that you didn’t need to fill every silence. Just being close to one another filled each of you up in ways that idle chatter never could. But when he did want to talk, you listened intensely, really listened to him in ways he wasn’t used to. “I’ve been thinkin’,” he said softly, pausing to anxiously chew his bottom lip for a moment, “if the outbreak hadn’t happened, you and I probably never would have even looked at each other.”

“Hmm. How do you mean?”

“Mmm,” he hummed, thinking about how best to explain what he meant. “I was too busy runnin’ around bein’ a piece of shit with Merle. And you—we were in different worlds, ya know. We probably never woulda even had the chance of brushin’ elbows. But if we did,” he shrugged, “I don’t think ya woulda looked at me twice.” He ran his hand down your bare arm, relishing the feeling of your soft skin. “Hell, I didn’t think ya would look at me twice even now…”

You turned and looked over at him, a sad but thoughtful expression on your face. “It’s hard to know, and maybe you’re right, that we would have never met… but if we did, I think I would have seen you just the same way. It’s impossible not to see you, Daryl.” You clasped his face and stroked your thumb along his strong jaw.

His eyes were flickering between yours and he felt that familiar bloom of warmth starting in the center of his chest, right between his lungs, and growing outward. He nudged his nose up at you, in awe of you always, and you acquiesced happily and kissed him. “Let’s get some rest,” he drawled when you finally broke apart. “C’mon.”

Daryl stood and pulled you up, keeping your hand captured in his, his thumb smoothing over the back of your hand as you made your way up to bed.

_ _ _ _ _ _

When you woke up the next morning you could tell it was much later than you usually slept in. And the fact that Daryl wasn’t beside you and that you hadn’t woken up when he stirred was also unusual. You were a light sleeper, and the two of you generally woke and got up around the same time. This sent your anxiety whirling again.

You got up and threw on some clothes, heading down to the lower level of the cell block and finding Carol and Beth sitting at one of the tables with Judith.

“Morning, sleepy head,” Carol said with a smile.

You rubbed your eyes and sighed. “Yeah, geez. What time is it? I don’t even know when I last slept in this late.”

She nodded and gave you a pointed look.

Beth only smiled up at you. “You must have needed it then,” she said kindly.

“I guess so…” You glanced around but the cell block was empty. “Where’s Daryl?”

“He’s on the fence with Rick. Little herd piled up overnight,” Carol explained.

“Mmm,” hummed in acknowledgment.

“Maggie and Glenn ran into town for some supplies,” Carol said, shooting you another meaningful look.

You nodded. “Great. Okay.” You anxiously bit the inside of your cheek.

“You want some breakfast? There’s some oatmeal we made,” Beth offered.

You shook your head. “No, I’m alright. I’m gonna go see how things are going on the fence I think.”

“Y/N, you should eat something,” Carol said.

You waved her off, already headed toward the door. “I’m fine! I’ll eat something in a bit!” Truthfully you had no appetite at all. This waiting, the not knowing, was agonizing.

You stepped out into the bright sunshine and set out toward the two figures on the perimeter fence. There was a group of walkers still clawing at the chain link, but it looked like Rick and Daryl had it under control. You grasped the interior chain link and hollered at Daryl and Rick over the mawing and growling sounds. “Best way to start the day?”

They both spun and you grinned at them. They were sweaty and splattered with walker blood, each clutching a metal rod in their hands, the end covered with a bit of gore. You felt a spin of nausea and avoided looking at the crimson dripping from their weapons.

“Morning exercise,” Rick said with a smile. He turned back and continued the task.

“Yer up,” Daryl said with a smile. He came over, wiped his hand on the red rag he always had in his back pocket, and then rested his fingers over yours, which were poking through the fence on his side.

“You should have woken me up! I can’t believe I slept in this late,” you said.

“Nah. Ya needed it,” he drawled. “Ya were out cold. Didn’t even move when I got up. Besides, we’ve got this handled. Ain’t no reason ya need to be out here.”

You nodded. “I see that.”

“Should be a done in a bit,” he said, glancing back over his shoulder at the growing pile of dead ones on the other side of the fence. Looking back at you, Daryl thought you looked a little pale. “Ya feelin’ alright?” he asked, his brow furrowing a little.

You nodded. “Mhm. Fine. I’m gonna just go see if Hershel needs help in the garden,” you replied. “See ya in a few?”

The archer nodded and watch you start to turn away. “Hey—just take it easy, alright?”

You laughed. “I think harvesting cucumbers is about as easy as it gets!” You gave him one more wide smile and headed for the vegetable garden. “Hey, Carl,” you said, as you came through the gate and passed him. “What are we harvesting today?”

Hershel glanced up at you and gave you a small smile. “Cucumbers. Peppers. Those tomatoes could use some weeding if you’re up for it,” he said. He surveyed you carefully and, like Daryl, did think you looked a little pale. But you seemed otherwise bright and alert as you set about your task.

But you hadn’t been working in the garden long when you started to feel a bit dizzy. A cold sweat broke out at your hairline and on the back of your neck and you knelt heavily in the soil a little suddenly.

Hershel noticed immediately. “Y/N?” He got up and moved over to you. He watched you wipe a shaky hand across your forehead. “You alright?”

You heaved in a deep breath and forced it out slowly. “Just feel sick all of a sudden. I’m okay. I’m fine,” you said, straightening back up. But as soon as you tried to stand your knees felt weak.

Hershel grabbed your arm to steady you. “Whoa. Easy now. Alright.” He turned to Carl. “Carl, go run and get Daryl.”

“No. No, I’m fine… Don’t bother Daryl with this. It’s nothing. I’m alright. I’ll just head back inside and rest,” you argued.

“You sure? It’s no bother to Daryl to come look after you,” Hershel said, giving you a pointed look.

“I’m fine. Really. I guess I do need some rest. It’s nothing,” you argued.

Hershel reluctantly released his gentle hold on your arm and you made your way back inside. Carol stood up when you came in and you read concern on her face at the sight of you. You let out a wry laugh.

“Wow, do I really look that bad?” you said, wiping at the sweat on your brow again with the back of your hand. Beth glanced over and she too looked worried after studying you. “I’m okay. Just gonna go lay down. I must just be a little sick... Caught some virus or something.” You climbed the stairs and collapsed back into bed, again grabbing Daryl’s poncho and cuddling up to it.

You dozed in and out for a while but woke when you heard hurried steps on the stairs. Looking up you saw Daryl in front of you, his blue eyes narrowed and obvious worry on his countenance. You leaned up on one elbow as Hershel came into view behind him.

Daryl sank down on the edge of the bed next to you and pushed your hair out of your face, smoothing it gently. “Ya are sick,” he said.

“I think she might be a little anemic,” Hershel said. “She needs iron. Red meat would be best.”

Daryl glanced over at him and nodded. “Alright. I can do that,” he said, grateful for a task that would be helpful to you when he was feeling helpless. He looked back at you. “I want ya to stay in bed today. Rest,” he said softly, his eyes flitting between yours. “Ya gonna be alright if I go out and hunt?”

You nodded. “Yeah. I’ll be fine.”

He gulped. “Alright. Promise you’ll stay in bed?”

You looked up at the sweet worry on his face. “I promise. Promise you’ll be safe out there?” You hated the idea of him going out and hunting alone.

“I promise. I’ll come back to ya.” He smoothed your hair again and then leaned down to place a kiss on your forehead. You closed your eyes briefly at the sensation.

He shouldered his crossbow and look at Hershel. “Thanks, doc,” he said. You watched the wings on the back of his vest disappear down the stairs.

You glanced up at Hershel who set a glass of water down next to the bed for you. “You really think I’m anemic?”

He nodded. “I do. Fits all your symptoms. All of them except you getting sick yesterday.”

“Oh… okay.”

Hershel gave you a kind look. “Glenn and Maggie should be back any minute now. I’ll come and check on you in a bit.”

You dozed on and off for a while until you heard some activity down the stairs and you sat up in bed. Quiet, steady footsteps on the stairs approached and Maggie came into view with a small bag for you. “Got what you needed,” she said.

You sat up, your stomach churning nervously, and accepted the bag from her. “Thanks,” you said. She hovered for a moment.

“Do you know what you’re hopin’ for?” she asked.

You shook your head and glanced up at her. “Not really…”

She nodded. “Well, either way it goes, we’re all here for you. And I know Daryl is too, no matter what.”

You gave her a small smile and nodded. “Yeah. Thanks.” You stared back down at the bag in your hand. “Well, better get it over with I suppose,” you said, standing up and heading for the bathroom.

A short while later you were back in the space you and Daryl shared, the pregnancy test sitting on the chair next to the bed. You couldn’t stop switching between sitting and anxiously bouncing your leg and pacing along the side of the bed wringing your hands. You were obsessively checking the time and it felt like it had decided to move like cold molasses. You were a bundle of nerves, but finally it was time to check the results. You forced a nervous breath in and out and picked up the test.

Positive. It was positive.

You felt like your knees were about to give out and you sat down on the bed hard, staring at that little plus sign.

Your heart was racing, and even though you were terrified, and so nervous wondering what Daryl’s reaction would be that you thought you might pass out, you broke into a teary smile as you stared at the results.

You replaced the test on the chair beside the bed and flopped backwards onto the mattress, staring up at the gray concrete of the ceiling and watching the shifting light and shadows. Whether it was simply from the relief of knowing or a result of the stress leading up to it combined with the toll on your body, you fell asleep not long after, cuddled up to Daryl’s poncho.

_ _ _ _ _ _

It was almost sunset when Daryl came back from his hunt, hauling a small deer over his shoulder. He had told himself he wasn’t coming back until he had some meat for you and everyone else (but mostly for you…) and he had succeeded. Usually hunting or tracking quieted his mind, but the whole time he was outside the prison fences he had been worrying about you. Before the outbreak, it wasn’t a big deal to get the flu or some random virus. But now, without access to modern medical care, something simple could turn into a big fucking problem real quick. You’d never had a problem with anemia before, if that’s what this was, and he didn’t really understand why you suddenly would. But he also knew that you were the type of person who would choose to go without a decent meal so Beth or Carl could have a second helping. He made a mental note to ask Maggie and Glenn about whether they saw any place on their run today that might have meds or supplements. Better to search out what they could before you needed it desperately.

The sun was low and sinking fast beyond the tree line as Daryl nodded to Carol as she closed the gate behind him.

“That’s a good find!” she said enthusiastically, looking at the deer slung over his shoulder.

“Yeah. How’s Y/N?”

“Hershel’s been checking on her. She’s been sleeping all afternoon,” Carol said.

Daryl nodded. “Good. I was afraid she’d be up tryin’ to help on the frickin’ fence or somethin’. Stubborn,” he drawled. He started up toward the prison and left the deer outside to be butchered. He wanted to see you before he did anything else.

It was quiet in the cell block. Most of the group was winding down for the evening, sprawled out with a book or busying themselves with some quiet activity. Rick gave Daryl a nod as he came in and continued bouncing and shushing Judith.

Climbing the stairs to your shared space, Daryl could tell you must still be asleep. Normally you’d have been calling out to him already with some greeting, or you’d be waiting at the top of the stairs with a one of those smiles that killed him every time.

He smiled as you came into view on the bed. You were partially curled up on your side, cuddled up to his poncho tightly, your fingers curled into the fabric and your cheek pressed to it. He pulled off his vest and tossed it on the chair beside the bed, debating about whether or not to wake you up and ask how you were, when he heard something clatter to the floor.

He bent and felt around under the chair and his hand closed on it. Straightening up, he finally looked at what was in his hand. Even Daryl knew what that little plus sign meant. He glanced back over at your sleeping figure.

This was—was this—suddenly, everything made sense.

The archer rushed down the stairs and toward the exit. Rick looked up and frowned at his urgency. “Daryl?” But the archer didn’t even stop to look at him.

Outside, he grabbed his crossbow from where he had laid it down by the deer, shouldered it, and let himself into the alley between the fences, running toward the vehicles waiting on the outside.

Carol saw him and her stomach immediately twisted. “Daryl?” She rushed toward the fence, but by the time she got there he was already slamming the driver door of the SUV and peeling out, the tires scattering gravel behind the car. Carol gripped the chain link fence so hard her knuckles were white and stared at the taillights disappearing into the dark beyond the lazily drifting cloud of dust. Her stomach dropped.

She ran the whole way back up to the prison and met Rick on his way out. “What’s going on?” Carol asked desperately.

“I was just coming to ask Daryl that same question,” Rick said, his eyes searching the yard and perimeter fence for his broad-shouldered frame. “He just went hurrying out of the cellblock.”

“I saw! He just took the SUV and peeled out of here,” Carol said, her eyes wide and worried. “It’s dark! Where could he possibly be going right now that couldn’t wait?”

A shadow darkened Rick’s expression. He shook his head and shrugged, meeting Carol’s eyes again, at a complete loss. “Better ask Y/N.”

Carol suddenly realized—like a flash of lightning. She nodded to Rick. “Let me go talk to her.”

Carol climbed the stairs to you and Daryl’s space in the cellblock. You were fast asleep on the bed and she gently touched your shoulder to wake you. You stirred and glanced over at her through sleepy eyes. You must have read something on her face because you shot up in bed immediately. “What? What is it? Is Daryl okay? Is he back?” You could tell by the lack of slanted light coming through the high windows that it must be dark.

Carol didn’t know how to tell you this. “He’s fine. He came back with a deer. And then—all of a sudden he just barreled out of here again. He took the SUV.”

You suddenly realized that Carol was sitting on the chair where the pregnancy test had been. Your heart plummeted into your stomach. “Wait—where—where’s the test? It was—it was right there where you’re sitting,” you said.

Carol shook her head. “I didn’t see it. There was nothing here when I came up. Just Daryl’s vest over the back here—”

Carol took in your wide-eyed expression. You jumped up off the bed and starting searching around the floor, reaching under the mattress. “It was right there. I set it there.” You stood up, frozen, one hand clutched to your head. Shit. You hadn’t meant to fall asleep. Daryl came back, and you were asleep, and he must have seen the test and— “He—He came back and I was asleep and he saw it,” you murmured. “He must have seen it and… he just ran off?” There were tears stinging in your eyes now.

Carol stood up and gently grasped your shoulders. “Try not to jump to any conclusions.”

“Carol, it was positive.” You just stared at her, your eyes still wide. “It was positive! What else am I supposed to think? He came back and he saw a positive pregnancy test and he just—he just left?” Your voice was desperate.

The only thing Carol could think of doing was to grab you tightly and hug you. “It’s okay. It’s going to be okay! Don’t panic!”

Part of you knew Daryl would never just leave, but another part of you knew this was completely uncharted territory. You honestly didn’t know how he would react to the news… You couldn’t stop cursing yourself for leaving the stupid test out like that and letting yourself fall asleep. Anyone could have walked up and seen it, and of course it had to be Daryl. You snatched his poncho off the bed and started toward the stairs.

“What are you doing?” Carol demanded.

“I’m gonna go wait,” you said. “I’ll be in the east guard tower…And Carol—Please don’t say anything about this to anyone… Just—not yet. Not now.” You breezed past Rick on your way out, ignoring him calling your name.

Carol met him at the bottom of the stairs. “What’d she say?” Rick drawled.

Carol shrugged. “She was sleeping. Maybe—maybe Daryl is worried about her being sick and decided to go look for supplies,” she offered weakly.

Rick let out a disbelieving sigh. “At night? By himself?”

All Carol could do was shrug.

“How is Y/N? And where’d she just rush off to?”

Carol nodded. “She’s alright. Worrying about Daryl now obviously. She wanted some fresh air and to watch for him so she headed up to the guard tower.”

The worry creases on Rick’s forehead didn’t ease. “What the hell is he thinking going off by himself at night?”

Carol shook her head. “He probably wasn’t.”

Up in the guard tower, with Daryl’s poncho swaddled tightly around you, you sat out in the open night air and stared at the road that led up to the gate. A few times you even tricked yourself into thinking there were distant headlights approaching, but when you looked again everything was just as still and black as it had been a moment before. You heard the door creak open behind you and Hershel stepped out.

He sighed and looked up at the inky blue-black sky, dotted with innumerable stars. “Ah. It’s nice and cool out here now,” he said, leaning back against the wall of the tower. He bent and set a bowl of some noodles and vegetables beside you. “You better eat something,” he said.

“No appetite right now, funny enough,” you said.

He could see the rigid tension in your shoulders and he sank down next to you with some effort, adjusting his prosthetic leg with a sigh. “I can see you’re getting ahead of yourself,” he said gently. “Trying to guess the answer before you can even ask the question.”

You finally looked over at him, an anxious expression on your face. “Did Carol tell you?”

“No. She didn’t have to. I can guess well enough,” he said, a small smile on his lips. Hershel turned his gaze out over the yard. “You know there was a time, back at the farm, when I wasn’t sure about Daryl. You can imagine this old farmer was a little skeptical of his rough-around-the-edges, hot-headed biker attitude,” he chuckled to himself. “But time and time again, he came through for me and my girls. He watched out for all of you and he kept us safe even when we weren’t his to care about yet. He certainly saw Shane for what he was before anyone else.” Hershel breathed in a deep breath of the cool night air and let it out slowly. “And I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he’d do anything for you.”

You could feel tears burning in your eyes again, and you adjusted the poncho around your shoulders.

“Whatever reason he had for tearing out of here like he did, I promise you that he will be back,” Hershel said strongly.

You wiped one tear that leaked onto your cheek and sniffled, trying your hardest to blink away the rest. You nodded. “Yeah. I just—I don’t know how to—how to do any of this,” you said. “And we’ve never even talked about it so I don’t know what he wants. What if—”

Hershel chuckled again. “What ifs can lead you down a dangerous road of thinking. Let’s just wait and see, hmm?”

You gulped and nodded, staring back out into the night. “You don’t have to wait with me,” you said.

“I’m going to sit here until you eat something. Doctor’s orders.” You could hear a smile in his voice and you begrudgingly picked up the bowl he had brought for you and picked at the food. Hershel smiled.

When the bowl was empty, Hershel took it from you and pulled himself to his feet again. He gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Everything is going to be just fine. You’ll see.”

You felt like you had been waiting up there for days, but it was really only a few hours. You were reeling with worry, but this time when you thought you saw headlights and looked again they were still there.

You jumped up and stared as the SUV came into view and stopped at the gate. Turning on your heel, you started to rush toward the stairwell but you suddenly froze. What the hell were you going to say? What the hell was Daryl going to say? You were gripped with anxiety again as the multitude of what ifs you had been fighting since waking up suddenly traveled through your brain in single file at light speed. You were frozen, staring at the door for… you didn’t even know how long when it suddenly started to open.

You startled and jumped back with a small gasp of surprise. Daryl’s broad shoulders emerged through the widening gap. “Y/N?”

You gulped and stared back at him, anxiously chewing the inside of your cheek.

He stopped just inside the door and took in your wide eyes and obvious distress. His brow furrowed heavily, casting a shadow over his narrowed blue eyes. He gulped and stepped closer to you.

You cleared your throat, hoping your voice wouldn’t come unnaturally high or strangled sounding despite the constriction in your throat. “You’re back,” you said softly. It was the only thing you could force out.

Daryl looked puzzled. “Of course I’m back,” he said, stepping closer. He drew his bottom lip in between his teeth and worried it between his teeth for a moment. You watched as he reached in his back pocket and pulled out the pregnancy test.

Your heart was pounding.

“I, uhh—I found this. Ya were asleep and—” He gulped. “It’s positive, right? Means you’re pregnant.” It really wasn’t a question.

Daryl could see your chest heaving a little with your nervous breaths. You nodded.

Daryl stared down at it for a long moment before he looked back up at you. “What do you wanna do?” he asked.

You stared at him. He looked so calm while you felt like you were spinning. “I don’t—I don’t know—I—” You forced in a breath. “We’ve never talked about what you want. Hell, we’ve never talked about what I want either…”

“I know what I want. I want you. That’s more than I could ever ask for,” he said, stepping closer toward you again. “But this? This is your decision. And whatever you decide is fine by me.”

You were almost overwhelmed with emotion immediately, just hearing him speak those words. Daryl saw it and he couldn’t resist breaking the buffer of space between you any longer. He clasped your face in both hands as the tears finally broke free of your eyes and traveled down your cheeks. “Hey. S’alright,” he murmured to you. He wrapped you up in his arms and pulled you against him tightly. “M’right here.”

You pulled back just enough to look up into his eyes. “You’re really okay with… either way?” you asked him, uncertainty still plain in your eyes.

He nudged his nose up in a nod. “Ya. Promise.” He smoothed his hands over your back.

You leaned your head against his chest for a moment and listened to his strong and steady heart. Daryl gently stroked your hair, enjoying the feeling of you against him and the silky strands of your hair under his fingertips.

You squeezed your eyes shut, part of you still bracing against some worst-case scenario you knew would never come, but that nagging doubt wouldn’t be completely silenced. Your voice was soft, but Daryl still heard it as clear as day. “I think—I want to do this. With you.” You pulled back slightly and looked up, meeting Daryl’s waiting blue eyes. You had barely gotten the words out before he had wrapped you up again and picked you up off your feet, hugging you so tightly he squeezed a little air from your lungs. You let out a surprised laugh as he set you back down, about to speak again, but he clasped your face and kissed you feverishly before you could start. It was like a warm shot of bourbon or that first warm day of sunshine after a long winter. It was urgent and soft at the same time, pleading and needy but affirming, his fingers in your hair.

When he finally pulled back there was a smile crinkling the corner of his blue eyes as they flickered between yours. You were sure you had a slight look of shock on your face still despite the bewildered smile you were now wearing.

“We’re doin’ this?” he asked, not releasing his gentle hold on your face.

You nodded. “We are.” Your heart was pounding. “Oh my God, we are…”

Daryl kissed you again and you sunk into it deeply this time. His hands came to rest on your hips and you stared up at him, still feeling a little like you were spinning. “I didn’t know how you’d—because of your life growing up…” you trailed off.

He nodded. “I know. But I ain’t my dad,” he said forcefully. “You’ve shown me that more than anyone.”

“I woke up and Carol said you just went running off and I—I didn’t know what to think when I realized the test was gone and that you must have seen it,” you admitted.

Daryl’s brow furrowed and he shook his head as he looked at you. “Ya thought I would leave ya?”

“No! No, I didn’t—but then—I just—I guess I got scared… This whole thing is a little overwhelming.”

“Hey. C’mere,” he said, wrapping you up in his arms again and pressing you against him. “I ain’t never leavin’ ya. Never. You’re—you’re my everythin’.”

You breathed him in for a moment before pulling back. “Well, then where did you go?”

One corner of his mouth twitched up and he laced his fingers with yours. “C’mon. I’ll show ya.”

You followed him down the stairs and back into the prison to the cellblock. It seemed that everyone was already asleep except for the two of you, satisfied once Daryl was back that they didn’t need to wait up worrying anymore like you were. When you climbed the stairs into your space, Daryl bent down and pulled a duffel bag out from under the bed. It looked like it was stuffed full. He knelt down beside it and unzipped it.

You stared down at the contents and then met his blue eyes. “This is what you were doing?”

He nudged his nose up at you in a nod, pressing his lips together a little nervously. Now you were the one who grabbed him and kissed him desperately.

The bag was full of things you would need during a pregnancy and for a baby; pre-natal vitamins, bottles, pacifiers, blankets, diapers. Your heart swelled as you looked down at it and then back at Daryl again. You shook your head. “You just—you amaze me,” you said.

He shrugged, still a little bashful when you directly complimented him even after all this time. He reached back under the bed and pulled out a second bag. You gave him a questioning look. “What is that?”

“In case ya decided the other way,” he said. “S’mostly just some random things ya like. Books and…” He shrugged again.

“So—Baby was Plan A?” you asked him as he climbed to his feet.

“You were Plan A. Ya always were and ya always will be.”

You looped your arms around his neck and his hands reflexively landed gently on your lower back. “But—you were hoping—?”

He paused thoughtfully for a moment and then nodded. “If ya woulda asked me a week ago I don’t know what I woulda said. But as soon as I picked up that damn test up and looked at it… And then I looked at ya just layin’ there asleep, all wrapped up with my poncho the way you were… I knew what I was hoping for. But I mean it when I say that anything you decided would be fine. You’re the one who as to do the hard part.”

You arched up onto your toes and kissed him again, sliding your fingers into his hair and feeling calm and happy again for the first time since you had sent out for the test. “How’d I get so lucky finding you?” you asked him quietly. Daryl felt his heart skip a beat and electricity zipped up his back. You always did that to him. Easily. Still.

“I ask myself that all the damn time,” he drawled. “Now c’mon. Ya need rest.”

You nodded and realized that despite sleeping most of the day, you were exhausted. Anxiety will do that… “I suppose you think this means you’re gonna be able to boss me around now?” you joked, settling into bed.

“Damn right,” he said with a smirk, pushing the duffels of supplies back under the mattress. “Gotta make sure ya take care of yerself and the little one. I’m gonna boss ya around all the damn time.” He kicked off his boots and slipped into bed next to you, immediately moving until his body was pressed against yours and he could wrap an arm over you. You slipped your fingers between his. “Gonna tell Hershel he can boss ya around too,” he joked. “And Carol. And Rick. And Maggie. And—”

“Alright, that’s enough,” you laughed.

Daryl smiled to himself and kissed your neck. “We’re doin’ this,” he said softly.

You sighed contentedly and nodded. “We are.” And that night you had no trouble sleeping.

[anna-pixie]

jaskier’s plan -> one

Summary: You’re in love with Geralt, and every time you stop at an inn you’re forced to watch him bed other women. Jaskier concocts a plan to get you to admit your feelings to him.

Pairings: Geralt x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of sex, swearing, jealous Geralt

Your longing gaze is fixed on the white haired man who resides in the corner of the crowded inn. He is on his fourth ale, yourself and Jaskier close behind on your third. A particularly gruesome monster in the town meant that it’s slaying was rewarded with a lot more coin than originally promised, and two free nights board in the town inn - drinks on the house. 

Of course, this also included a free nights… company… for your male companions. Company which they are far too happy to be accepting. You sneer into your drink as Geralt tightens his arm around the lady who resides on his lap, humming as she places a hand onto his chest. 

Pain ebbs in your chest as he smiles at her, and you bite your lip painfully, trying so hard to suppress the tears that are fighting to build behind your eyes. You turn, noting with a raise of your brow that Jaskier is still beside you, his gaze fixed on you rather than on the painted ladies like usual. 

“What? Have I got something on my face?” You laugh, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. Jaskier shakes his head, an unusually somber expression on his face. 

“Tell him how you feel, Y/N.” 

A clearly fake, high pitched giggle escapes your mouth and you take a huge gulp of your drink, averting your gaze from Jaskiers. You wipe the edge of your mouth with your thumb before turning to look at him again, your face bashful. 

“I haven’t a clue what you mean, silly bard.” 

Jaskier places a warm hand over your clothed forearm, your eyes darting down due to this action. Your lip starts to quiver as you meet his eyes again, and you note the sorry sympathy in them. This is why you didn’t tell him about your feelings for Geralt. Is he really shocked, you’ve been smitten with the large man since you first started to tag along on their adventures a few months prior. 

“You’re sad, Y/N. I don’t like you being sad. Besides, that makes for an awfully boring song. The grumpy Witcher, the sad girl and the bard who has to watch them pine for each other every day?” He pauses for a second, his expression thoughtful as he looks to the ceiling, “Actually, I just may write that tonight!”

You slap Jaskier’s hand where it remains on your arm, and he squeals, but doesn’t remove you from his grip. 

“He doesn’t pine after me, Jask. Look at him, he has all he needs there.” You both look over to Geralt again, seeing the woman’s head buried in his neck, his eyes closed as he holds her hip lightly. 

“Tsk, tsk. You don’t see what I see, Y/N.” 

“Yeah right, Jask.” You humor him, not having it in you to argue about this anymore, but groan as the tell tale warmth slides down your cheeks. Damn your body for betraying you like this, you don’t want to cry about it, not here, not now. 

As if sensing your tears, the light above you shades as it is blocked out by a hulking figure. Though you realise by the two sets of footsteps, Geralt has brought his new friend over with him. You wipe your eyes quickly with your free hand and turn to face Geralt, who makes himself comfy on the seat next to you, the woman residing on his big lap once again. 

His brows furrow as he examines your face, his yellow eyes gazing into yours before travelling down and narrowing when they see your arm encased in Jaskiers hand on the table. He shifts slightly, clearing his throat before speaking. 

“Interrupting something, are we?” His tone is sardonic, causing you and Jaskier to share a baffled look, removing your arm from his grip. Geralt’s lips turn up ever so slightly at this. 

“You’re not in a position to talk, my friend,” The bard gestures towards Geralt and his company, “Why aren’t you already… sealing the deal.” He winks over exaggeratedly at the man, eliciting a glare from him whilst you giggle. 

“We’re waiting for a room to free up, can’t do it in yours.” The unnamed woman speaks, her shrill voice angering you while she plays with a lock of her fiery hair. 

“Mmm. I guess four is a crowd.” You can’t help the rebuttal that falls from your lips, avoiding Geralt’s piercing eyes as you speak. 

Jaskier, who had been thinking very hard for the past minute, lights up suddenly, throwing an arm around your shoulders and pulling you towards his body. Geralt’s wide eyes observe this exchange with what you can only assume is confusion, but there seems to be a hint of anger lurking somewhere. 

“Follow my lead, okay? I’ll explain later,” He whispers quickly, turning back to face the pair next to you, a shit eating grin on his face as he addresses the lady, “Besides, me and Y/N could use a bit of privacy… if you know what I mean.”

The lady’s face lights up and she cackles, sending a wink in your direction, “Got yourself a goodun’ there. Go and enjoy yourselves, I’ll occupy this one ‘till you’re done.” Geralt grunts as she points towards him, his eyes frantically darting between you and Jaskier. His chest rises and falls rapidly and he sends a murderous glare Jaskier’s way. 

“Come on, Y/N, it’s love making time!” He squeals, grabbing your arm once more and pulling you away from the table with haste. He doesn’t stop running until you reach your room and he slams the door loudly. He giggles loudly as he leans against the wood, leaving you confused as you stand in the middle of the cold room. 

“Care to explain, Jask?”

“Did you not see his eyes, Y/N? He was practically seething with jealousy!”

“Oh, don’t be silly.” You roll your eyes, heading over to the adjoining wash room to change into your night clothes - which at the moment is one of Geralt’s very large shirts. 

“If my hunch is correct, he will be storming in at any moment.” Jaskier grins wickedly, wolf whistling when you reappear in your sleeping attire, “And he won’t be able to keep his hands off of you. Guess I’ll have to keep the red-head company instead, what a shame.” He pretends to pout. 

“Stop it, Jask-” Your sentence is cut off when the door to your room flings open, slamming harshly against the wall as Geralt strides into the room. His eyes move from Jaskier’s smirking figure to you, raking his eyes over your not so covered body. His nostrils flare and his voice is a low growl as he turns to Jaskier. 

“Get out.” He doesn’t have to tell him twice, the bard skipping out of the room, closing the door behind him and leaving you alone with a very angry Witcher. 

“So that’s how I’m supposed to find out that you and Jaskier are fucking, hm?” He snarls, stalking towards you as you try to take a few steps back. 

“We’re n-”

“Why him, Y/N? Why him?” His words are still angry but you sense a sudden shift in tone, it can’t be. Is he upset? 

You take a deep breath, your eyes watering once more as you prepare to reveal why the bard concocted this plan in the first place. Damn him. 

“Listen to me, and don’t interrupt me, okay?” You look pointedly at Geralt until he nods, his jaw tightly clenched, “Jask, in his own misguided way was trying to help me out. We’re not… sleeping together, he just wanted to make it seem that way.”

He takes a moment to process your words, his brows furrowing as he responds, “Help you out… with what?” He chooses his words carefully, as though he is scared he will say the wrong thing. 

“I…” Your voice cracks as you try to confess your feelings to the man before you, “I was jealous, okay? I can’t bear to see you lay with whores night after night, because I want you to spend those nights with me. I…” Your emotions take over, tears spilling out as you blubber over your words. 

You expect him to laugh, throw your words back at you and tell you how repulsive he finds you, but instead a pair of warm lips are planted harshly on your own.

*

To be continued...

[solarwonux]

Crop Tops and Tattoos || Wonwoo

soccer player!Wonwoo x f!reader

w.c: 3.2k

warnings: smut, shower sex, wonwoo soft!dom, oral sex (female receiving), friends with benefits, friends to lovers, public sex (kinda) I think that’s all. 

note: another repost I’m sorry lol. Anyway, I hope you enjoy, honestly I literally have like a bunch of works that literally take place in the same soccer!svt/college!svt universe but really have nothing to do with one another except for like 3 and they’re all spicy lol. Let me know if you’d want them and also enjoy this one and lmk your thoughts hehehe :)

masterlist

“W-What?”

“Come to my practice tonight.” You rubbed the sleep from your afternoon nap out of your eyes, listening to Wonwoo’s soft voice through the receiver. “I miss you, come to my practice tonight, we can hang out after.” Wonwoo all but begged, and you can almost picture the pout that was on his face.

“Woo, I can’t I have to finish my half of the group research project.”

“Perfect, I’ll help you. You’re my partner anyway. Please love, I just want to see you it’s been forever.”

“It’s been two days Woo.” You rolled your eyes sitting up on your couch, retreating your phone from your ear, checking the time, 7:30PM it read. So much for a thirty-minute nap, you sighed.

“Precisely why you should come to my practice…hold on a sec,” Wonwoo pulled the phone away from his ear and gave the lost student instructions to where the art history section of the library was located at. “Please, it will be worth it, I promise.” He whispered, cupping his mouth over the receiver, muffling his words a little making you laugh.

“I’ll think about it, get back to work.”

“Okay see you tonight.” He said a little too excited and hung up the phone, a wide smile appearing on your face, making your stomach perform a whole gymnastics routine in the process.

The relationship you and Wonwoo had was interesting, it had started off as mindlessly flirty with one another, graduated to ghost touches and during a hot summer’s day. Where the air conditioning in the library had leaked and instead of Joshua calling everyone to tell them to stay home, he had made sure everyone showed up. Or else. His exact words.

The touches and flirting had escalated to the point that Wonwoo had dragged you to the forgotten encyclopedia section of the library and pinned you against the dusty bookshelves.

Since then your relationship grew more to just sleeping with one another to let off some steam. He would hold your hand underneath the reception desk at the library, mindlessly drawing patterns and phrases onto your skin. He would walk you to class when he could, sometimes with a bubble tea in his hand, other times empty handed. If you were scheduled to close on days, he had an earlier shift, he would wait and walk you home holding you close while the two of you talked about your day. And as of recently, after sex he had started to spend the night, claiming he slept better with you by his side.

In your head Wonwoo was your boyfriend just without the label. It was also a conversation the two of you needed to have, but it was also one you feared because you didn’t want it to ruin it.

You ran through the gates of the soccer field and started up the steps of the aluminum bleachers, earning weird stares from the guys and girls that decided to attend SVT’s first soccer practice of the season. You sat down, out of breath, holding your bag close to your body as you tried your best to regulating your breathing. A reminder that maybe hitting the gym every once in a while, wasn’t such a bad idea, because clearly having mind blowing sex with Wonwoo wasn’t helping with building your stamina.

“Woo your girl’s here now you can finally start playing.”

“Get your head out of your ass Jun.” Wonwoo scoffed shoving Jun lightly, earning a laugh from the other boy. Wonwoo gazed over at you a knowing smile evident on his face and waved at you. You felt your cheeks heat up and your eyes grew wide as you took in his appearance.

Wonwoo had sworn to you that he would never wear his old jersey again, especially since Seungcheol and Jeonghan had deviously cut it up after their last game last season. Yet, here he was in all his glory. The shirt stopping just above his belly button, the sliver of his toned stomach peeking through and you felt the beat of your heart start to raise. You warily waved back, before placing your cold palm against your forehead trying to cool yourself down.

Wonwoo raised an eyebrow, lifting his hand up and threaded it through his dark locks. His shirt riding up, exposing himself more and you felt the air leave your lungs. It was stupid, you have been seeing him in a lot less clothing for months and in every angle. But for some reason now as he stood boring his soft eyes into yours as Jihoon shouted commands to his teammates. The sweat dripping down the sides of his face, his glasses fogged up slightly due to the humidity and a knowing smirk adorning his face, teasing you. And you felt like you were about to burst.

“Hey, Woo, stop ogling at your girlfriend and get into position.”

“I like your shirt.”

“Hmm, yeah?” A devilish snicker fell from his lips as he pushed up against the cool tile wall. You nodded dragging your nails across the sliver of teasing skin, leaving red marks behind in their wake making Wonwoo shudder. “So sexy.” He groaned lowly pressing his lips onto yours forcefully, his hands snaking around your waist down to your ass giving it a squeeze making you gasp. He pulled away from your lips and trailed them down your neck. He swiped his tongue over your sweet spot earning him a whimper from you.

“You gonna let me fuck you in the locker room showers?”

“If you ask nicely.” You breathed out playing with the elastic waist band of his shorts. Wonwoo laughed against your neck and bit down before pulling away. “Can I fuck you in the locker room showers please?” He pouted playfully, grabbing your thigh and wrapping it around his waist.

“God Woo, yes.” You wrapped your arms around his waist pulling him closer to you feeling his growing cock against your aroused pussy. “As you wish darling.” He mumbled pecking your lips repeatedly before pulling away from your body, making you whine at the loss of his body heat.

Wonwoo chuckled sinking down to his knees, your eyes hooded with pleasure, feeling the wetness between your legs grow. He left teasing kisses down your clothed thighs, his thumbs hooking underneath the waist band of your leggings dragging them along with him. “Woo my shoes.”

“I was getting there, you’re so impatient sometimes.” He mumbled sitting back on his knees tapping your calf silently telling you to raise your leg. “It’s your fault…how am I supposed to be patient when you always look so good.” You obliged watching as he slowly took of your shoe and throwing it outside of the shower stall along with your sock. He repeated the process with your other leg before attaching his lips against your clothed thigh and left gentle open-mouthed kisses up your leg.

“I guess it’s time I teach you how to be patient.” He smirked pulling down your leggings along with your panties in one go. He threw them aside, placing a kiss against your hip bone, where the small stick and poke infinity sign tattoo he had made after a long night of immoral rendezvous. “Still can’t believe you let me talk you into giving you this.” He mumbled giving it another kiss and stood up.

“I wanted a tattoo but didn’t want to experience the pain.”

“It still hurt you, I had to stop, that’s why it’s all crooked and unfinished.”

“But it’s my favorite.” You whispered, his dark lust filled eyes boring into yours as he slowly started to take off his shorts and underwear, exposing himself to you. No matter how many times the two of you slept together, the sight of his body always had your heart beating out of time. He was perfect, an Adonis carved out of marble and to your surprise he was all yours.

“Don’t take off your shirt.” You whispered reaching and grabbing a fistful of the cloth and pulling him to you. “I want you to fuck me with it on.” You eyed him, a teasing finger running down his chest. “You’re so naughty today.” He laughed grabbing your hand and moved it up to his lips kissing each of your knuckles his sensual gaze lingering on yours. You felt your breathing pick up, the heat trailing down your thighs. “Please touch me.” You whimpered pulling your hand away and taking your shirt of throwing it behind him.

“Not yet I need to shower, I’m all sweaty from practice.” He winked, his hand finding the shower handle and turning it. A gasp left your lips as you felt the cold start to coat your heated bodies. “Now behave princess.” He kissed you hard, running his tongue over your bottom lip asking for entrance in which you granted. His hips flirting with yours and all you wanted to do was get down on your knees and beg him to use you in any and every single way possible. He pulled away detaching the shower head sending you a wink before putting it against your clit. The harsh water jets sending a sweet wave of pleasure up your spine.

“You’re going to cum like this and then I’ll fuck you.” He mumbled, before sinking down on to his knees again. He kept the shower head in place and alternated in kissing your thighs. Desperate whimpers falling out of your mouth. Wonwoo hooked one of your legs on top of his shoulder and bit down on your thigh, sucking making you yelp. “Your body reacts so well to me.” He kissed up your thigh sucking another love bite next to your tattoo before pulling away, shifting the shower head slightly. The sensation sending a new wave of pleasure up your body making you moan.

“W-Wonwoo, mmm, please.”

“Please what?” He teased the sound of a smirk evident in his voice and you’ve never wanted to hit someone so badly before. “I-I need you please.” You cried out, the tip of his index finger teasing the entrance of your pussy. “Yeah…you need me baby?” He chuckled moving your arousal around coating his finger with it before pulling away and bringing it up to his mouth, moaning sinfully as he licked it clean

“Y-Yes need your fingers, or mouth anything p-please W-Woo.” You raised your hips trying to grind yourself against the water, searching for a release in every way you could. “I’ll give you what you want but you can’t touch me.” He tsked giving you a pointed look. You whined nodding your head grabbing onto the smoothness of the shower wall. He ran his hot tongue against the lips of your pussy, the sensation mixing with the coldness of the water sent shivers up your spine.

“You always taste so sweet.” He mumbled against you flicking the tip of his tongue against your clit. Your mouth hanging open as your fingers itched to touch him and push him against you even further. “L-Let me touch you?” You breathed out your nails digging themselves into the skin of your stomach. He nodded against you repeatedly licking strides up your lips before attaching his mouth on your clit. By now the shower head was long forgotten as it fell from his hand, hitting the shower wall with a loud clank making you jump.

You threaded your fingers in his short hair tugging at the roots making him moan against you. He wrapped his arms around your ass pulling you closer as he lost himself eating you out like a starved man. “B-Baby I’m close.” You moaned arching your back against the wall as he lightly bit down on your clit and pulled away. He licked his lips savoring you and adjusted his round glasses earning a lighthearted laugh from you. “Don’t laugh or I won’t help you cum.” He grumbled pressing his index and middle fingers against your entrance and slowly sinking them into you immediately curling them up in search for your g-spot. A satisfied smile etching across his face as you moaned out the second he found it.

Wonwoo attached his lips onto your clit again, this time wasting no time and sucking on it roughly, his fingers moving inside you at a fast pace. The coil forming at the pit of your stomach, your hands tugging on his hair, your hips bucking against his mouth and fingers. He moaned feeling your clench around his fingers, giving him the motivation to pick of his pace, the pleasure getting too much for your body to handle and before you knew you came undone screaming out his name. He helped you ride out your orgasm, desperately licking up your release making your body twitch from the oversensitivity.

“You did so well baby.” He mumbled before pulling away, licking his lips moaning in approval as the remnants of your arousal hit his taste buds. He thrusted his fingers a few more times before pulling them out making you whine, missing the way they felt inside of you. He chuckled licking them clean before standing up.

“Think you can give me one more?” He asked giving your lips multiple pecks and then your cheeks. You laughed pushing his face away resting your tired body against the wall of the shower.

“Yes.”

“Can I ask you something?” You crossed your arms in front of you holding up the towel Wonwoo had wrapped around your body. Wonwoo hummed handing you his extra t-shirt as well as the sweatpants you had left at his place weeks ago. How he knew to bring them along with him was beyond you, but you decided to save that question for another day.

“Why do the guys call me your girl.” You emphasized standing up from the bench and started getting dressed. Wonwoo closed his locker resting his back against it drinking you in slowly, making you feel a little insecure. “Jeonghan saw you leave my apartment one day and texted the group chat to share the tea.” He rolled his eyes using quotations around the last word of his sentence before pushing himself away from the locker. “Now the guys think we’re dating.”

“But you never corrected them?” You tugged his shirt over your head gathering your semi dry clothes and folded them. “Do you want me to correct them?” He placed his hand on your cheek moving your head gently to meet his eyes.

“I-I mean yeah, we aren’t dating you made it very clear that you weren’t looking for a relationship when this started.”

“I wish I could eat my words.” He whispered running his thumb over your swollen lips. “I think I’m past just wanting to fuck you; I want more.”

You felt the air leave your lungs; your cheeks heated up and you desperately searched for a new point of focus because the intensity evident in his gaze was overwhelming. “We should go, I need to finish my half of the project.” You picked up your drying clothes and your bag and rounded the corner of the bench you had been sitting at.

“You don’t want to be more?” Wonwoo caught up with you grabbing your free hand to stop you from walking and held it close to his chest. “I do, I’m just scared you’ll end up regretting it if we ever do try to be more.” You confessed trailing your eyes down his body and stopping at your interlocked hands.

“I won’t, you make me feel so good an—”

“Exactly, I make you feel good. All you’ve ever known is how it feels like to be with me naked. You don’t know what it’s like to actually be with me.” You pulled your hand away. A frustrated sigh spiraling out of his lungs as he ran a hand through his hair.

“Your worst habit is jumping to conclusions.” He mumbled lowly tugging at the roots of his hair. It didn’t feel nearly as good as it felt when you would do it to him, but that was something he would ever confess out loud. “I want to be with you in every way possible, I know what I said before and if I would take back my words I would because that was before I found myself falling for you.” Wonwoo closed the gap between the two of you holding you tightly. His confession had your mind running nonstop, the weight of his words making their way into your heart and finding a home. You hugged him tightly, burying your face into his chest. “Is that a yes?” Wonwoo asked confusion laced in his voice as he hugged you back running his hands down your back soothingly. You hummed nodding your head taking a whiff of his lavender body wash and somehow it felt like home.

“You can’t just say things like that so casually.” You groaned raising your head from his chest placing a kiss on his chin. “Give me a warning next time.”

“Would you have preferred reading the essay I wrote about it instead.”

“Wonwoo stop fucking around you didn’t do that.” You scoffed pushing away from him and started down the hallway to entrance of the locker room. “Yes, I did it’s fifteen pages long, I even used citations.” He yelled following you a few steps behind, the teasing tone in his voice made you doubt his word. But he did once write a whole essay on how Soonyoung was the worst co-captain in the history of co-captains because he had beat him in Mario Kart.

“You have two options I can read it for you tonight after you’re done with your half of the project or I can read it for you on your wedding day.” You choked on your saliva making him laugh. He patted your back gently before pushing open the door to the locker room.

“What the fuck Woo, our weddi—”

“Finally, we’ve been waiting out here for hours. I’m starving.” Hoshi exclaimed throwing his hands up in the air before starting down hallway. “I told you guys to leave.” Wonwoo sighed rolling his eyes and extended his hand for you to take.

“Half of us did once they heard you guys fucking.” Vernon shrugged shoving his hands in his pockets. Your cheeks started to heat up, you prayed to every god out there to do you a solid and open the ground up and have it swallow you whole. “And you guys didn’t?”

“Nah, you’re paying for dinner remember, plus we made a bet while we waited.” Vernon took two long strides over and placed his hand on top of Wonwoo’s shoulder. “I never expected you to have a daddy kink and now I lost fifty bucks to Jeonghan and Dino each, that’s a hundred in total.” He shook his head and walked away running to catch up with Hoshi.

“I don’t have a dad—”

“You know bathrooms have echoes right?” Dino pushed himself way from the wall and started walking away. “We heard the two of you loud and clear, so you can’t deny it, Jeonghan even took a voice note just in case you wanted to deny it.”

“Baby you’re going to have to visit me in jail cause I’m about to commit homicide.” Wonwoo placed a chaste kiss against your head and let go of your hand and charged over to Dino. He turned around laughing before running down the hallway leaving you behind with a smirking Jeonghan.

“Honestly, I just hope you guys disinfected the stall the two of you used.”

[multiplefandomsblog]

V3 boys accidentally knocking up their s/o in the killing game

desc; how the v3 boys would act if they found they knocked you up during the killing game.

warnings; fem!reader, pregnant!reader, sexual comments, cussing, mentions of sex, mild mild spoilers??

just a small note; I haven't finished the 3rd game yet so I have no idea what happens thus, I apologize if it isn’t too accurate or if there are gaps in my story! Also, i don’t know if reader stays in the killing game long enough to birth a child, so like, i just made it like she did?? 

Shuichi

to be honest, I think he would find out before you did.

he is extremely observant so he would notice the symptoms right away

He would notice how you got fatigued easily, how you seemed to get nauseated

first, he would ask you if you were late

then, if you said yes, he would tell you straight up.

“S/o, you’re pregnant.” “I- I’m what!?” 

he would definitely get worried for you and his baby, 

a child born into a killing game is not ideal after all.

would be with you at all times, too scared to let you out his sight

he doesn’t want you or his baby to get hurt or killed by another student

yes, he believes in everyone but he can never be too careful.

he’s constantly pestering you and asking if you’re alright

you have 0 time to yourself, because he’s always with you

would probably hold hands through the bathroom door if you were using the toilet

he would try and prepare everything for when you go into labor

he wanted to make sure that both you and the baby are safe before and after labor

he takes care of you very well, always getting what you need or want

overall, i think he’d be a very responsible dad when the baby is born, probably the best dad out of everyone.

Kokichi

At first kokichi thought you were joking,

“Nishishi! Nice prank, s/o! You almost got me!”

But when you look at him with a serious expression, he goes-

“Wait shit, did we not use protection?” 

He’s not sure how to feel about it, so he just puts a fake face on.

He acts super excited and unworried but on the inside he’s not sure what to do.

he would constantly over think and become unsure of himself, the question repeating over and over in his head; Would he be a good dad?

Though he’s concerned for you and the baby, he’s actually kinda happy

he’s excited for all the pranks he and the baby can do against everyone in the killing game.

He has a new pranking partner!

yes, his pranking partner is less than a month old, but still! the baby is going to be a pranking master!

if you had strange cravings, he would try them with you

wanting to, “experience being pregnant with his tongue(kinky?)”

the horny bastard would probably still wanna smash, but definitely more gently than usual, he didn’t want to stab the baby with his dick

I think he’d talk to your baby via belly a lot

he would tell your baby stupid jokes that were kinda inappropriate but still hilarious

“Hmm, it must be nice being inside S/o. I would know, I was too.” 

“KOKICHI-” “NISHISHI!” *fucking books it*

i think he’d be a pretty irresponsible dad, but he’d definitely fight for his new family(with pranks)

random headcanon, but i think kokichi would wrap your baby in one of his checkered scarves when it comes out like- ahHHHHHHHHHH

he would also swaddle da baby with his scarf fvhajfgkgavkgbuyg

Korekiyo

When he found out, he was pretty shocked at first

But after the shock, he was insanely happy that he managed to create a human with you.

he adored the fact that his child would be able to make history and continue to live on even after he dies.

He loves humanity, so he’d love the human baby he made with you even more

during your 9 months of pregnancy, he would praise you and your ‘glowing body’ daily

constantly saying stuff like, “Your body is a temple and you are a Goddess.” and “The life growing inside you simply amazing and I am proud to share this experience with an entity such as you.”

You know, that cheesy ooey gooey romantic shit

“S/o, I want to crawl into your body so I can experience being born aga-” “That’s enough of that.”

It's cute and all, but it sometimes gets embarrassing when he is basically worshipping you in public(especially like that).

i think he would tell the baby, folk tales and myths while it was still in your belly

he wanted to raise the baby to be just as curious as he is.

though, behind all these adorable things, kiyo is worried.

don't get me wrong, he does enjoy the other students’ thoughts and strange minds, but he doesn’t trust them for a second.

he would never willingly leave you with another student.

he gets a teensy bit controlling; always asking you to stay in his lab or dorm.

but he won’t get unreasonably angry if you go anywhere else, he just encourages staying in places with less people

if you do need to go somewhere else with other people, he would just follow you

in the end, I think kiyo would be a dad that never neglects his kid(can’t relate-).

he would always be there for them.

K1-B0

K1-B0 doesn’t have the facilities to knock anyone up.

like kokichi asked, do robots even have a penis???? 

how the hell did you two fuck in the first place!????!

but if somehow, miu gives him a penis and actual sperm??? I guess it could work?? i don't know how it works man- I've never fucked a robot

I think he’d be happy and proud that he managed to impregnate you

“See!? I can do human things too!” “...Impregnating a human, K1B0? Seriously? Too fucking far.”

okay, I can’t take this one seriously T_T

um, if you and K1B0 had a baby, would it be half robot??

through your belly, the baby would make robot noises to communicate and K1B0 would understand which is cool

when the baby was born, he gets very protective; he doesn't want his baby to face the same discrimination and bullying he did

he wouldn’t be afraid that the others would hurt the baby, because he helped build in lazer eyes for his baby.

oh but he definitely would not let his baby go near Miu at all

he would prevent that from happening as much as possible

he’s afraid she’ll do something weird to the baby and add new gadgets,

sure its cool and all for him, but the baby is so young!

I DONT KNOW WHAT THIS IS ABVHGJDFKVJGVJ

Kaito

Kaito would be fucking psyched when you told him, stars in his eyes and everything

“I-I’m gonna be a dad!? whOOOOOOOOOOO!!” He picked you up and hugged you tight, but not too tight; he didn't want to hurt the baby.

But then realization hits him like a truck when he realizes, that the baby was going to be born into a killing game.

He would have a nervous breakdown and cry for about, ehhh a day or so

but once he gets it all out, he focuses on the positives

if it was possible, he loves you even more than he did before!

now that you have a mini you growing inside you(inception!?), its like, double the love :0

he’s giddy everytime he sees you with your baby bump, not being able to resist hugging you every time he sees you.

he loves you so much, it's hard to put in words 

he cries when he can feel the baby kick, kissing your belly uwu

when you’re around people he can’t trust in the killing game, he gets very very protective

he would watch their every move, moving to shield you when they move their hands.

but around the people he trusts like shuichi and maki, he’d let his guard down and relax

he would stress out if you were in any discomfort, always making sure you were okay

if your legs or back were sore, he would be there in an instant to massage your joints until his hands fell off

he puts you before himself, sometimes forgetting to take care of his basic needs like, eating or sleeping

you’d have to remind him a lot

I think something cute that he would do while you two slept is holding you or your belly protectively while he dozed off

overall, a goofy dad that makes stupid dad jokes.

would have a lot of proud dad moments

he seems like the type who would embarrass his child a lot lmao

Gonta

uh, gonta is father?

would definitely be shocked and stressed out when you told him

his protective mom dad instinct would intensify and he would constantly be carrying you

1. because he didn’t want your legs to get tired

2. he’s practicing for when he picks up his baby

3. if he carries you like this, no one can reach and/or hurt you

4. because he can

5. and because a gentleman would do that

he doesn't really know what to do when you’re having pregnancy symptoms, like vomiting, nausea, etc.

he’s not great at that part, but he knows how to protect you from danger and he knows how to make sure you’re comfortable

he treats you like a queen(as all women should be treated!)

he isn’t really worried when you’re around other students, but he still picks you up just in case

i think he’d act super sweet, like his sweetness would intensify to 100

he would try cooking a meal for you or giving you breakfast in bed, but it always tastes like boiled eggs in the end?

like no matter what it is, it always tastes like boiled eggs

pasta? boiled eggs

maki rolls(haha)? boiled eggs

sandwich? boiled eggs

“...Mmm! Gonta this is, uh, not at all tasting like boiled eggs!” You tried to say enthusiastically, Gonta nodded with a soft smile, “Gonta glad you like it!”

eventually you caved in and told him(after a few months... you didn't want to hurt the baby—gonta—, okay?)

he’d have to ask kirumi to do all the cooking while he just handed her ingredients

he feels weird when he thinks about the fact that his baby is growing inside you

all he can think about is larva

but he thinks its cool that his creation is going to grow inside you and become another human

so he just rolls with it

Rantaro

(i apologize in advance if this isn’t too accurate)

i feel like i can imagine this:

Rantaro was sitting on the benches outside, drinking his bottled tea. His eyes darted towards your approaching figure. He stored his leftover tea in his cheeks as he gave you a wave, putting his bottle down. “Rantaro, i’m pregnant.” His eyes widened as the tea came spewing out, luckily he turned his head away so you were out of the splash-zone. He dropped his bottle before standing up and immediately hugging you. “I love you so much, we can do this. I love you.” He repeated as he moved his hand up your head, tangling his fingers in your locks.

he would be pester you if you looked like you were in pain or struggling with something, thinking you were going into labor

*breathing pattern changes* “Holy shit! Are you going into labor?? Fuck, okay um, uH hospital?? UH contRACTIOns HOw LoNg?-” “I JUST BREATHED DIFFERENTLY.”

p a n i c

he doesn’t know how the whole pregnancy thing works, he’s only a teen after all

but no matter what, he supports you in any way he can

i think if anyone made a bad comment about your baby or you, he would probably scare the shit out of them with his scary expression

intimidation x100

i headcanon him to be a cuddly dad

he would hold you a lot, he likes feeling all three of you together

small scenario from when the baby was born;

As your baby’s cries filled the room, you sighed as you got up from the bed. Rantaro, however, abruptly stopped your movement, “Don’t worry, I got ‘em.” He rubbed his eyes, kissing your forehead as he gently pushed you back down onto the bed and walked towards the crib.

You watched with droopy eyes as Rantaro gently shushed the baby by bouncing them in his arms. Rantaro made his way back to bed and slipped in beside you, the now quiet baby still in his arms. “Mmm Rantaro no, we’re gonna crush the baby.”

You softly groaned in protest. Rantaro pouted at you, silently pleading with you with his puppy-dog eyes. You let out a huff of defeat before nodding, eyes half-closed. The last thing you saw before dozing off was Rantaro smiling goofily at the baby. You slowly fell asleep, Imprinting a gentle smile on your face as you slept. 

sorry for steering the other way for rantaro’s, its 6am ;-; what is sleep anyway? phew, thank you for requesting this! i enjoyed writing it, it was fun :D

- mod chia

[ashes-in-a-jar]

And I Owe it All to You

Hello! This is a fic I wrote based on @speakerunfolding 's wonderful Jonmartin scottish cabin comic which I couldn't stop looking at.

I wrote this while watching Dirty Dancing for the first time in many years. Quite an experience xD

Summary: It's a night in for Jon and Martin in the cabin and they decide to pop out the wine.

Rated: T

Word count: 2.2K

Tw: alcohol, drinking and being slightly drunk, minor injuries

Maybe it was the fact that neither of them had gone out much in the past few months. Maybe the Fears prefer their avatars lightweight. Maybe Scottish alcohol tended to be stronger than English alcohol. But the sparkling wine they bought on a whim at the village store shouldn't have had the effect on them that it did.

Having emptied two cups each (Jon was actually drinking out of a mug, since they found only one wine glass, and he conceded the honor of feeling classy to Martin) they have already become giggling messes over some dumb joke regarding one Peter Lukas and a computer that refused to boot.

It wasn't even that funny. But there they were, acting like complete fools leaning against each other on the couch, legs propped up in a completely uncomfortable position on the small living room table (dangerously close to the now nearly empty bottle), holding their cups precariously in one hand and holding hands with the other.

And enjoying every moment of it.

The giggling subsided. They took a moment of comfortable silence to regain their breath and enjoy another sip.

"Can't believe he didn't know he could just u-unplug and replug the whole thing. Even I know that." Jon's speech was ever so slightly slurred, his leftover wine sloshing in his cup.

Martin hummed and then snorted.

"Jon, you barely know how to do that either. I had to teach you how to open new tabs in the same internet window for christ's sake."

"It was a new laptop! All of the buttons were in the wrong p-place." Jon protested weakly, starting to hiccup.

"Sure."

"Prick." Jon nudged him fondly. "You underestimate my vast knowledge of 'modern' things."

Martin snorted again. "Modern, you say?"

"Yes Martin, what do you take me for?"

"An old geezer." Martin tousled his hair gently. Jon leaned into the touch. Then, the words sunk in.

"Hey! Why do you and Georgie keep thinking that? I can know pop culture!"

"Oh yeah? Tell me, what do you know?"

"Uh..." Jon struggled to straighten himself, which resulted in actually sliding further off the couch. "Um...I know S-Star Wars! And uh, Matrix? I think. I've seen it once. Oh! That, that dinosaur movie! And... Titanic?" He finished unconvincingly. 

Martin looked at him, raising an eyebrow. "Really, Jon? You're just naming movies now.  And not even new ones. Did you actually watch any of those?"

Jon avoided his gaze "I... I may have fallen asleep during uh, during some of these?"

Martin gave him a long look. 

"Yes alright, I fell asleep in all of them."

Martin huffed "Thought so". 

Jon gave up trying to salvage his dignity, taking a final long gulp from his mug, a small drop trickling down his chin. Martin swiped it away, absent-mindedly licking his finger, not noticing as Jon hiccuped, his face heating up considerably. 

"I-I did like the Princess Bride though— that was a nice film, if a bit sensational." 

"Hang on. You watched the Princess Bride? And liked it?" Martin asked, incredulous. 

"I'm allowed to like things, Martin. B-besides, Georgie made me watch it. Said it was a- a core staple of cinema history o-or something."

"Oh yeah? Did she make you watch those other movies as well?" Martin asked casually, swirling the liquid in his cup. 

"Unfortunately yes. She would cruelly  shake me awake when I finally managed to get some shut-eye for once in my life. I-it's not my fault the only times I could sleep normally were during those, those damn films! She woke me up for that ridiculous scene with the, uh, the bullets in the Matrix. And that lifting scene in that unseemly dancing movie."

"What lifting scene?" 

"That movie with all of the dancing? Th-the one where he lifts her at the end in the middle of the crowd with that song? At least, uh, at least I think there was a lot of dancing, I wasn't actually, hmmm... Focused at the time." 

"Oh my god Jon, do you mean Dirty Dancing? You fell asleep during Dirty Dancing?" Martin's delighted incredulity was plain on his face. 

Jon scrunched up his nose. "That's the name of the film? Good thing I fell asleep then."

"Jesus Jon. That's incredible, good on Georgie! Heh, at least you woke up for that scene. It's iconic, you know." 

"Yes, yes." Jon waved at him dismissively, reaching unsteadily for the wine bottle. Martin gently took it away from Jon and with a much steadier hand, poured the remaining bit of wine into his mug.

"Thank you Martin," Jon mumbled into the cup. 

Another warm silence fell on them, lulling Jon into a half drunken stupor. He nearly threw his cup in the air when Martin's words startled him back into awareness. 

"I can do that scene you know, that lifting part." He was looking intently at his glass. 

"R-really?" Jon hiccuped. "How?" 

"I… I had a boyfriend who wanted to try it. So we did. Turns out that I'm good at balancing large things that aren't stacks of paper."

Jon hummed. He suddenly imagined very vividly Martin lifting someone else in that way and felt a pang in his chest. What was that?

Another beat of silence. 

"Do. Do you want to try?"

"W-what?" 

"Do you want to do that lifting scene with me? I'm sure I could lift you." Martin suddenly sat up, his tone excited and anticipating. He looked at Jon. 

Jon shifted. "Uh, I-I guess it's fine? Sure."

"Okay! Let's do it then!" Martin got up on his feet, swaying ever so slightly. 

Jon looked up at him surprised. "W-wait, now? Shouldn't we wait? You know, to be less uh, inebriated? Don't you need to see the scene again for a reminder?"

"Mmm. We don't have reception so I can't exactly watch the scene again. But, but I'm pretty sure I can do it now, definitely sure! Come on." He held out his hand expectantly. 

Jon took it, stumbling only a bit as he got up. Martin took out his phone . 

"I might even have the song saved. Let me check."

A moment later he gave a whoop of success and the song began to play, filling the main space of the cabin with its soft, if slightly tinny sound. 

Jon stretched, releasing the tension in his muscles. "All right Martin, where do you want me?" 

"You need a bit of a running start, and then you need to jump high right as you reach my arms, so stand over there." He indicated towards the door of the bedroom. 

"Right." Jon stumbled only once as he made his way towards the designated spot. Martin moved across the room stopping right near the kitchen door. 

The song kept playing calmly in the background, slowly building up towards the upbeat chorus. 

Jon looked at him again "I dunno Martin. A-are you sure?" He suddenly felt a bit more fuzzy than he did sitting down. He hiccuped again. 

"Please Jon, you're thin as a rake. Have a little faith." His face wore that determined look that Jon couldn't help but love. 

"Alright, as you wish." He grinned, proud of his clever reference as he took his stance. 

Martin rolled his eyes as well as his sleeves. "Steady on Westley, this is the part."

Jon felt a rush of excitement as he caught Martin's enthusiasm. "Ready?" He asked, bouncing a little on his feet in preparation. 

"Ready." Martin crouched a little, holding out his arms. 

As the chorus neared Jon, with a wild drunken energy, took his running start, jumping up as he reached Martin, grabbing on to his shoulders for support. Martin firmly gripped Jon's hips, bent his legs and with a strained grunt lifted Jon in the air as the song reached a crescendo. 

Jon was flying. 

He laughed giddily, stretching out his arms in elation. 

As Martin continued holding him in his strong grip he looked down at his beautiful boyfriend. Despite the exertion, Martin looked up with the softest expression as the song kept playing for them in the background. 

For a moment everything was perfect. 

And then Martin leaned backwards a bit too far. 

In hindsight, they should have known this would happen. While Martin was better at hiding it, he was as drunk as Jon. And Jon's already impeded balance certainly didn't help. 

As they went down, Jon idly wondered if they could also recreate the rest of the dance if they practiced. And then he hit his nose on the floor. 

After a moment of stunned silence the pain rushed in and Jon grunted. 

Turns out that while most of him was protected from the fall by Martin's soft and sturdy body, his knee also missed the mark and crashed into the floor as well.

Muffled by Jon's body above him, Martin squirmed. "Ugh, Jon, are you okay?"

When Jon didn't respond, Martin groaned and picked himself off the floor, lifting Jon in the process. 

"Oh my god, Jon! You're bleeding!" 

Jon's face throbbed. And so did his knee. His hazy drunken state began fading away as the pain sharpened. 

"I-I think I hit something." 

"I'm so sorry Jon! God, where are the tissues?" Seemingly having sobered up considerably, Martin picked Jon up and carried him bodily into the bathroom. Jon allowed all of this to happen as the shock of the fall dissipated. He let Martin easily lift him onto the sink counter as he shoved a towel into his hands.

"Hold it against your nose while I... Jesus, your knee too?" He stepped back now hurriedly lifting the stained pant leg to reveal the damage. 

"God, Jon I'm so sorry. Hold still, I'm going to find the first aid kit. We shouldn't have done this. This was a complete disaster." 

He kept muttering irritably as he walked away. Jon sighed and pressed the towel to his throbbing nose. His foggy mind still felt as though it was trying to catch up to the recent chain of events. He spoke slowly, attempting to convey himself with clarity. 

"Martin, it's fine. Honestly, I think we both know I've had worse-" 

"You nearly broke your bloody neck! God, where's that goddamn kit." He shouted from across the cabin as Jon heard the rattling of drawers being forcefully pulled open. 

"Martin, please I-I'm okay. It's just a little bit of bruising. It honestly already feels better." 

And it actually did. In the chaos after the fall, they both forgot Jon's... situation. Jon watched as the cut on his knee slowly closed up, leaving only the drying stain of blood behind. The pain in his nose was slowly vanishing as well. 

By the time Martin came back holding the bag, Jon already put down the towel and was tentatively poking at the previously bruised spot. 

Martin stopped in front of him, looking at him with a mixture of emotions Jon couldn't parse out. He smiled at Martin hesitantly. 

"See? Good as new. No harm no foul, I say."

Martin let out a long suffering sigh and took the towel out of Jon's hands. He quietly dampened it in the sink and stepped closer to gently pat at his face. 

Jon looked at him. This close he could practically count his faded freckles, follow every line and trace every mark that was so beautifully Martin. He let himself smile. 

"I must say, I'm quite impressed by your strength, if we weren't so inebriated, I'm sure you could have kept me up there for quite a while," he said quietly, enjoying the fluttering touches. 

"It wasn't because I was drunk." Martin muttered. 

"Pardon?" 

"I said it wasn't because I was drunk that I dropped you," he said a little louder, oddly flustered. "I was looking at... At you. You just looked... I dunno, happy, I guess? I just never seen that expression on you before and it..." He trailed off, concentrating intently on Jon's knee, finishing up cleaning up the blood. 

"M-Martin, look at me. Please look up here." Jon gently tugged at his shoulders to pull him up. At this height, sitting on the counter, he actually came face to face with Martin, seeing his blush and ruffled expression right in front of him as opposed to slightly above him like he normally did 

He lifted his palms to bracket Martin's warm cheeks. 

"There you are," he whispered and leaned in for a quick kiss. He then leaned back slightly. "You know that I'm perfectly happy. Here with you. Y-you know that, right?" 

Martin looked at him for a few moments, then smiled. "Yeah, I do."

"Good. Now, help me down so we can clean up the wine stain, which I'm sure is growing on the carpet right now."

"Wha- oh," Martin said as he turned to see the fallen glass that apparently toppled during the mayhem. 

"Yeah. Let me down?" Jon said again, holding out his arms. 

Martin turned back to him, a teasing expression on his face. "As you wish." 

Jon groaned and allowed himself once again to be pulled, secretly enjoying Martin's burst of giggles as they both walked back into the crime scene that was their drunken night in. 

All things considered, it was a pretty good night. 

[cunningambitousdetermined]

The Plan (Natasha Romanoff x F!Reader)

title: the plan

pairing: natasha romanoff x f!reader

warnings: mild swearing, mentions of homophobia, FLUFF with a dash of angst

summary: Y/N has been in love with Natasha Romanoff for a VERY long time and honestly, Tony is getting sick of watching it. Natasha has been in love with Y/N since the very first day and Steve can’t take the assassins obliviousness anymore. Steve and Tony, reluctantly of course, team up to make the pair notice how perfect they are for each other. (OH SHOOT IM SORRY I SUCK AT SUMMARIES WOW)

requested by @iamninaanna: 

Hey Sunshine, I love your writing, so I'm here to request something :) 

Can I please request a Natasha Romanoff × reader, where the Avengers are playing truth or dare, and somebody challenges Natasha to kiss the reader, or something like that, and then they confess their feelings to one another. I was having something in mind, I hope it's not to specific, that like Natasha rambles about the reader to Steve A LOT, and he's so sick of it, he has to do something about it, while it's the same situation with reader, just that she's talking to hers best friend, which can be any of the Avengers, you decide, and then Steve and the reader's best friend make a plan together, and well, you know the rest <3

Okay, that was a lot, but I'm really excited😊 Thank you if you write it!!

a/n (i think that's what i put when i’m responding, if i screwed it up please let me know, it would be much appreciated) :

hi taja! thank you so much, this is the first time someone has requested something and im really excited. but also terrified. more terrified. reader is a girl but if someone wants me to rewrite this as gender neutral, i can.  hope i do it justice and if your reading this, thank you for reading. if anyone has any feedback, it’s always welcome. okay here i go!!

the story: 

Y/N Y/L/N flopped backward on to Tony Stark’s bed, grabbed the nearest pillow and let out a angry scream into the unsuspecting piece of cloth and feathers. 

“Woah kid, what’d the pillow do to you?” Tony joked, his eyes still trained on whatever new gizmo he was working on, chuckling at his best friends antics.

“It’s fucking Natasha” Y/N mumbled quietly into the pillow, her voice muddled by the soft white sheets that she buried her head farther in. Tony was silent, the only sounds was the clinking of the Tony’s robots and tools working, so she assumed he hadn’t heard her. Not that she wanted him too anyway. 

Y/N was in love with Natasha Romanoff. Head over heels, fully in love with the assassin that she’d worked closely with for the past years. To describe how Y/N felt about Natasha in words would never to how she really felt in justice. Natasha was a tall glass of Coke: Orange Vanilla. Rare, unsuspectingly sweet, and utterly addicting. Her red hair, the black bodysuit, the way she fought, she could take down 10 men on her own, with her bare hands. She was sweet- always sharing her secret candy stashes with Y/N- smart -helping Y/N out when she was still taking classes. 

Sometimes Y/N really thought Natasha felt the same way, then she flirted with a guy here and hot girl there and the idea fled from her brain.  Y/N had never seen Natasha have an inclination toward women, she flirted with every living thing. Y/N liked to think it was a coping with feelings for someone and that's why she was so flirty but in reality, Y/N knew there was no way she felt near the same way. She was an extra to the Avengers. And besides, no one even knew she liked girls. 

“It’s what, darling?” Tony had moved and was now sitting in front of Y/N, spinning around in his chair like a little kid in their dad’s office.

Y/N wanted to tell him how in love she was with Natasha, she wanted to tell him all the little things she noticed, all the little things she loved. But she couldn’t. How would Tony take it? Tony might take it okay, but the team? Steve? Bucky? They were from the 40′s, women didn’t love other women openly back then, did they still think it was... unnatural? She didn’t think she could deal with being any more of an outcast. Did Natasha like girls? The thoughts were drowning her slowly, cutting off her air supply, the last bit of air building up into a scream that she would never let out. 

Tony coughed and Y/N realized she’d been silent for too long. “Tony....” she took a deep breath in, “I- uh-...,” Tony raised an eyebrow, waiting for to go on. Y/N coughed clearing nothing from her throat, elongating the silence before she just spit the words out like hot fire. “I’minlovewithNatashaandIdontknowwhattodo?” 

“You’re what?” Tony asked, having caught nothing of that sentence, something about Natasha but honestly he was still lost. 

Y/N felt a little better and slowed herself down. She trained her eyes on a seam in the comforter and whispered, “I’m in love with Natasha and I don’t know what to do”

There was a silence and Y/N could feel it smothering her, pulling her into the water, dunking her head under, she was drowning and, and and- Tony erupted in laughter. Y/N’s head shot up and she stared at him, color drained from her face. Tony rocked back and forth but when he came up again, he caught the absolute terror on her face and his smile dropped. 

“Y/N?” he asked softy, he stood up, plopping on the bed next to her, “Babe?” Tony tried to catch her eye, ducking his head but she turned away. He grabbed her chin in his large hands, “Babe, I wasn’t laughing at you. God, I’m such an idiot.” he blew out a harsh breath, “I was laughing because I already knew, not because you are in love with her.” Tony felt her face relax and he turned her chin to meet his eye. 

“You knew?” Y/N asked softly, tears still gathered in her eyes. Tony’s eyes softened as he saw the tears and he used the pads of his thumb to wipe them away. 

“I’m sorry Y/N. I don’t care if you like women. I’ve known you had some sort of feelings for Natasha for a while, you can see it when you look at her. I was just waiting for you to tell me.” Y/N laughed at this now and threw her arms around Tony, who wrapped her up in a hug. “Now, tell me more about Natasha and this ‘love’” he said, his voice muffled by her hair. 

~

“STEVEEEE” Natasha groans, letting down her normal assassins façade. 

“Mmm” Steve hummed in reply, motioning for her to come in to his room. She smiled and darted to the spinning chair in the corner, propping her feet up on the desk. It was silent for a little bit, the pair just enjoying each others company when Natasha spun her chair around and broke the silence. 

“Do you think Y/N likes women?” Steve already knew the Natasha liked women and he was totally cool with it. Nat has been surprised when he had been super supportive but was very grateful for all the love and reassurance he’d given her. 

“Nat,” Steve sighed dramatically, “She can’t NOT know your in love with her, unless she’s totally oblivious which she may be...” He turned to face her, jumping on his bed to be closer to her, “You should just tell her” 

“But...” Nat frowned, “what if she doesn’t like women? And I creep her out? And..” She stopped as she felt Steve lay a hand on her shoulder. 

“How could she not like you?” he questioned, “And trust me, it’s quite obvious how she feels.” 

“HOW SHE FEELS?!” Nat practically screamed, so unlike her that Steve leaned back. She cleared her throat, “Sorry- she feels...?” 

“She’s in love with you, obviously”

Nat grabbed a pillow from the bed and screamed into it, then looked at Steve, wary, “Really? Y/N with her...” Steve tuned out the rest of what Nat said, he’d heard it all before. Too many times. Nat sighed, in a happy way that Steve had never heard from her before, “Y/N...”

~

Steve knew that this had to end, Natasha and Y/N pretending they weren’t head over heels for each other. He’d heard enough of Nat’s wistful rants, it was so unlike her, it was starting to worry him. If he was correct in his guess, Tony was feeling the same way. So, despite Tony being, well, Tony, Steve sought him out to solve the mess. 

~

“Truth or dare, old man?” Clint smirked at Tony, all the avengers had settled for a night in and decided to play truth or dare. Y/N had rolled her eyes at this, they were too old for it, but settled in next to Tony anyway. 

“Dare, obviously” Tony rolled his eyes at Clint, eagerly awaiting his fate. 

“I dare you to stand on top of the tower and sing at least 30 seconds of ‘Rich Girl’ by Gwen Stefani and livestream it.” Tony laughed at this and stood up. 10 minutes and one livestream later, all of them were laughing harder then they had in a long time. 

“Okay, okay, my turn to ask,” Tony smiled, “Natasha, truth or dare?” Steve couldn’t help the smile that overtook his face, the plan was in motion. 

“Dare...” Natasha didn’t let her voice waver, her signature smirk on her face. 

“I dare you to kiss Y/N”

The whole room fell silent. Y/N’s face flamed and her eyes filled with tears. Was this a joke? Tony knew how she felt. How could he? The eyes in the room were on Nat and her but she ignored them as she got up and ran out of the room. Tony’s eyes widened as Y/N darted through the door. 

“Nice going, Tony. You upset her.” Natasha’s glared at Tony, angry. But inside she couldn’t help but wonder if she ran because she didn’t want to kiss her. Maybe she hated the idea. Maybe she didn’t like women after all. Nat got up, she had to face this. “I’ll go get her” She dragged her hand over her face and got up. Tony and Steve exchanged a glance as she left, hopefully this wouldn’t blow up in their faces

~

“Y/N!” Nat yelled down the hall, “It’s me, I’m sorry Tony was a jerk. Can we talk?”

Y/N heard Natasha’s voice and faltered, she had to face this at some point. She took a deep breath, letting the cool confidence she had on missions fill her. 

“Yeah, I’m here Nat” She called back and within seconds Nat ran around the corner. Nat’s eyes softened as they looked into Y/N’s beautiful eyes, still just as mesmerizing, puffy and red. Nat took an unconscious step forward, her thumbs caressing the hidden tear streaks. Y/N’s breath caught, her heart flipping at Nat’s touch. Before she could think about it, Y/N leaned up and let her lips meet Nat’s. Nat responded immediately, pulling Y/N to her, wrapping her arms around her, teeth tugging at her bottom lip. Y/N groaned into the kiss, letting her fingers card through Nat’s hair. They pulled away after a minute, smiling like idiots. Y/N looked down slowly before glancing back up shyly at Nat. 

“Um... I really like you Nat” She whispered, with a smile

“I really like you too Y/N” Nat chuckled, pulling her in again for a sweet, soft kiss. It said everything they hadn’t said. All the nights of longing, the confusion and the love. 

Tony, Steve and the rest of the team watched from the security room, smiling and high fiving at the happy couple. 

AHHH I HOPE YOU LIKED IT!! feedback is always appreciated!!

tagging: @iamninaanna (to be tagged when i write something just drop me an ask)