#If you listen closely you can hear my brain frying

[ringhoarder]

I’m reading Harrow the Ninth and WHAT THE FUCK. WHAT IS GOING ON. IM SO CONFUSED SHES HAD A LOBOTOMY AND SHE CANT REMEMBER GIDEON????? BUT HARROW IS REMEMBERING CANAAN HOUSE DIFFERENTLY????? PLEASE SOMEONE HELP IM DYING OVER HERE

#If you listen closely you can hear my brain frying #wtf is happening #harrow the ninth #harrowhark nonagesimus

[therisingdarkness]

Fortunate Son

So this is a Ghoul fic in his pre-Ghoul days, written for @cloned-eyes. It's very dark, deals with war trauma, gore, and medical trauma, death, etc. I wouldn't call it Dead Dove, but it comes close I suppose. There is nothing happy about it tbh. But I LOVE writing this stuff and I love disintegrating my friends by tormenting their OCs. This is pure, indulgent Ghoul Whump, and also the introduction of three of our shared babies.

If you read, I hope you enjoy!

~~~ ~~~ ~~~

 The world was black.

That was fine though. Jenot didn’t want to open his eyes. He was so tired of the blinding white lights of the medbay, so tired of the way the longnecks and medical droids swarmed him the instant they knew he was awake, poking him and prodding him with needles and scanners, asking him questions he didn’t have answers for—How does your prosthetic feel? Is it too heavy? How is the movement? Can you see? Look at this chart. Look over here. Open your mouth. Wider. Wider. 

It had been easier when he couldn’t hear. Deafness had been a blessing at the time, but long fingers had pulled at the ragged remains of his ears, measuring and sticking things in the canal until they wedged something hard and foreign inside each one. There was a ringing noise, a piercing buzz that felt like it lived inside his brain, and then he could hear the low murmur of voices all around him, followed by the incessant beep and hum of medical machinery. More stimulation that he had been better off without, but how was he supposed to follow orders when he couldn't hear? 

The crook of his arm ached from the thick needle feeding fluids into his veins. It was the only thing he could feel, the only thing he had to remind him he was still alive. They had only spared him so many painkillers before deciding it'd be more efficient to simply fry his nerve endings. Back-to-back surgeries, countless hours spent edging in and out of consciousness, sometimes aware of a tube fed down the remains of his throat as they pieced him back together, and other times so disoriented he thought he was back on the battlefield. 

He didn't have the strength to fight. Those first nights were filled with pain, with blood, with darkness and the dying screams of the few unlucky brothers pulled from the muck and the mire. It had almost given him hope to know he wasn't the only one who had been saved…but that hope had lasted only so long as he was blind. 

They did something to him, scraped out the ruined, gelatinous mess of his eyes and replaced them with cybernetic implants that allowed him to see better than he ever had before…and the first thing he saw, after opening his eyes and turning his head to the berths next to his were the other survivors of his unit. 

The sight of them made him want to tear his implants back out.

His brothers laid there, pale and still, eyes open and glassy, their bodies wrapped in a network of thin hoses. Jenot didn't have to crane his neck too far to see that those hoses were also hooked up to him. 

Blood.

They were using his brothers…as living blood transfusions, killing them slowly by bleeding them dry. He watched the life drain out of one of them—he couldn’t remember his name, couldn’t even remember his CT number—listened to his last rattling gasps of breath and saw the tears leaking out of his eyes as the light in them dimmed. Jenot wished there was something he could have said to them, something that would have let them know that he was there, he saw them and was with them. They weren’t alone…he wasn’t going to let them die alone….

But it didn’t matter.

They still died.

They died for him—a choice they hadn’t been allowed to make, but a fate decided for them by the longnecks. He couldn’t stop it from happening, couldn’t protect them or offer them any words of comfort in their last moments. All he could do was just…lie there, hooked up to a dozen machines, and watch his brothers fade away.

“No point in trying to save these units,” he overheard one of the longnecks whisper to their colleague. “They’re too far gone as it is. Salvage what you can from them to ensure the commander pulls through, then dispose of the remains. They’re expendable.”

“The commander is worse off than the other ones we managed to retrieve…why is priority given to him?”

“Orders came through from higher up. I don’t intend to question them. Besides, it gives us the opportunity to…experiment.”

“True. I’ve been meaning to run a few tests. It’ll be easier to use these units as subjects. Less paperwork.”

Resistance was futile. Jenot wasn’t even sure he had it in him to struggle, not when his limbs felt like they were filled with lead. He couldn't even speak to tell them 'no'...the prosthetic jaw and tongue felt too strange. He couldn't get it to work the way he wanted, couldn't feel anything to indicate things moved the way they were supposed to. The few words he had been able to grate out on their demand to make an attempt didn't sound anything like the usual smooth cadence of his voice. 

It was all too much.

It was too much.

He couldn't cry, couldn't scream or shout the way he wanted to. His chest felt tight, filled with some emotion that buried itself beneath his ribs, taking hold like thorny vines, choking his lungs until he felt like he couldn't breathe, ensnaring his heart until everything went numb, until the only thing he could feel was the slow crawl of time ticking by, driving him crazy. 

He didn't want to die…but was this any better?

What existence he had been forced into…it was a mistake. He wasn't meant to be there, alive, broken and scarred but on the mend, tended to like he was somehow more worthy of being saved than his brethren just because of his rank—the same rank he had been so proud to receive alongside Wolffe and Fox, the same rank he had celebrated at 79's, partying like the world was ending the next day and getting so drunk it was a miracle they had made it back to base unscathed…now the same rank he cursed for drawing an arbitrary line between himself and his men, marking him as somehow better than them.

He couldn't unsee their eyes, unblinking and tear-filled as they exhaled their last, the subtle movements of their pale, chapped lips as they begged not to die, for someone to save them. 

“Hurts,” one of them had whispered. “It hurts, Commander.”

Jenot closed his eyes, trying to forget.

“They got us good, didn’t they,” the trooper had kept on, delirious, his voice raspy. “I wish…I wish we coulda died out there…on the battlefield. Bombs on our heads an’ kark…better than…than wasting away here. I don’t…I don’t feel any better.”

Because they hadn’t been trying to make him better…not that Jenot could have told him. The prosthetic jaw and tongue had been too new, and he had been so weak, so tired—all he could have done was lie there, listening to his brother’s voice grow fainter and fainter.

“Commander…I don’t feel good. Th–they gave me somethin’, didn’t they. M’ skin’s burnin’.... Feels hot. I don’t…I don’t think….”

He never got to finish his sentence. His next exhale was his last, his breath tapering off into a thin whine as his lungs deflated for the last time. Jenot couldn’t turn his head, but he had felt tears in his eyes, slipping down the sides of his head as he squeezed them tight, wishing he could have blocked out the sound—and what a shameful wish it was. The least he could do for them was bear witness to their last moments. 

That was his duty, as Commander. They had looked up to him, followed him with the trust and loyalty that was baked into them from birth. Every decision he made they had followed, blindly, because he had never steered them wrong before and they had no reason to believe this time would be any different. 

…and they had been wrong.

Jenot forced his eyes open again, gasping like he had been punched in the gut. There was no escaping what he had done…what had been done to them.

Even with his eyes closed he could see them, their bright faces and their roguish, familiar smiles. He hadn’t deserved them…he couldn’t save them, not a single karkin’ one of them. 

Outside, a storm raged and waves hundreds of meters high crashed against the massive pillars supporting Tipoca City. The structures were secure, the noise muted through many layers of durasteel…but he knew the sound of the storm. It brought a strange sort of comfort amidst everything. The wind, rain, even the waves…all were constant, steady. His earliest memories as a cadet were filled with warmth, packed into a room with the rest of his batchmates, curled up in his bunk and listening to the roar of the sea outside.

He wished he could go back to that time, when his future was still undecided. Maybe…maybe there was something he could have done differently, some choice he could have made that would have changed things. Maybe if he hadn’t been a commander…maybe if he had been anyone else this wouldn’t have happened. Maybe his unit would still be alive and he wouldn’t be left reeling with guilt over being the only man to survive the Massacre of Toydaria.

With a groan, Jenot pushed himself into a sitting position. The aches and pains he expected were so dull they may as well have not been there. What should have been a blessing was only another annoyance; he didn’t like not being able to feel. With some effort, he managed to swing his legs over the side of the medical bed and felt around until he felt the solid floor beneath his feet. Pins and needles slid under his soles and toes, but the sensation was as fleeting as it was sharp. He didn’t even have time to cling to it.

He sat on the edge of the bed for a moment, gathering his wits and summoning the strength to stand. His body felt so heavy; the weight of his new prosthetic arm dragged his shoulder down until he felt lopsided. It wasn’t hooked up all the way—the longnecks had mentioned something about needing more time to integrate all the nerve endings. His other hand, swathed in thick bandages, was missing fingers, but at least the prosthetics they had grafted onto his hand actually worked; he couldn’t remember how it happened, couldn’t feel anything anyway. They moved when he wanted them to and that was the only bit of silver lining.

Don’t think about it. Don’t think about it. They’ll keep putting you back together. 

Inhaling deeply, he forced himself to stand, swaying in place before grabbing hold of the IV stand he was still hooked up to. He thought about finding a way to rip the needles out of his arm, but…maybe it was better not to push his luck.

The medical wing was fully dark; a chronometer on the wall put the time at a little bit past 2am. Right between the shift change, if he remembered correctly. He only had a small window of time to escape before he’d be missed. They’d find him eventually, drag him back, threaten to strap him down…but it was worth the risk.

The halls were longer than he remembered as he dragged himself and the stand along, its wheels squeaking in protest as he leaned on it for support. Even if he couldn’t feel anything, his body knew that he was injured, knew that he needed rest. Labored breathing escaped through his mouth, hot breath moistening the tongue that he was still trying to figure out how to use. He knew he shouldn't push himself, but the medbay was too quiet and its ghosts too loud. He needed relief that drugs couldn't give him.

Step by step Jenot followed the familiar corridors and passageways until he reached one of the observation decks, where the windows, made of the same thick glass as ship cockpits, stretched from floor to ceiling. Hurricane strength winds lashed against them, hurling rain and waves over and over, but the glass held firm. Jenot stood in the entryway, watching tiredly before shuffling over to one of the windows; he leaned against it almost immediately, hoping to feel the chill from outside…but there was nothing.

Just the sound.

The noise.

His new hearing aids crackled with the low rumble of thunder and he winced as a loud whine shot through his skull. He could scarcely feel anything else, but he sure as hell felt that. With some effort, he managed to sit down, putting his back against the steel wall and sliding until he felt the floor beneath his ass. The hoses attached to the needle in his arm pulled taut, bidding him to tug the IV stand close. It was a relief to be off his feet; the walk, while not far from the medbay, had taken its toll on him. He wanted nothing more than to lean his head against the glass, close his eyes and let the familiar sounds of the storm lull him to sleep.

“Go talk to him.”

“No, you go talk to him, you’re th’ one who wanted to!”

“Then why’d you two follow, huh?”

“‘Cause you’re gonna get in trouble!”

“Don’t be dumb, everyone’s asleep.”

“So? Go talk to him.”

Jenot cracked open an eye and moved slowly, turning his head toward the sound of barely disguised whispering emanating from the entryway. He knew the sound of disobedient cadets when he heard them, having snuck out of his bunk with Wolffe and Fox enough times to understand the allure of defying curfew. There were three of them, he realized as his cybernetic eyes automatically compensated for the low light, enhancing his sight until he could see just as clearly as if it were fully lit.

Three sets of brown eyes stared back at him, continuously shuffling to push one cadet to the forefront of their trio. Shock registered on their faces, still rounded with baby fat they wouldn’t outgrow for another two years or so, before they slowly filtered into the room, hands tucked behind their backs and eyes cast down to the floor like they expected to be reprimanded. 

Why should I? 

In another time and place…yeah, he might’ve given them a good scolding and sent them back to their bunks on the wings of a light-hearted threat…but why bother? What good did it do him? 

I shouldn’t be responsible for anyone else…look where it got me.

Guilt stabbed into his chest, but he was tired—too tired to pull himself off the ground to deal with the cadets, who now stood close enough to reach out and touch, if he had wanted to. One of them, missing one of his front teeth and sporting a little stain on the front of his sleepwear, took a step forward and kept his head bowed.

“Sorry,” he mumbled to his socked feet. “We didn’t mean t’ disturb you or nothin’...we couldn’t sleep.”

“That’s your fault,” one of the other cadets said. “You always keep us up!”

“Shhhh!” hissed the third, shoving at his batchmates. “Not so loud!”

Jenot watched them with waning disinterest. They were trying not to stare at him and failing miserably. Their big brown eyes kept darting up and down, fixating on his face before shifting elsewhere. They weren't subtle about it either, but cadets didn't know any better. Not this young, at any rate.

He knew why they were looking.

The edges of his neck and jaw stretched tight against the prosthetic, skin red and raw where blood crusted against the seam. It would be slow to heal, slow to integrate, they had told him. He was lucky, they said, that he had been brought back to the facility. Who knows what would have become of him had a battlefield medic gotten his hands on him.

The black carbon metal stood in stark relief against his skin, ugly and frightening. Unnatural. He didn't like catching his reflection anymore. It was surreal, to see the metal and silicone in place of where he once proudly wore a mustache and beard (because he looked good with it, and because it set him apart from his brothers, most of whom chose to remain 

clean shaven).

So yeah, he knew why they stared…and though he didn't blame them, it rankled something inside of him, inspiring a special brand of annoyance that curdled into something deeper, darker. It hit him, suddenly, the striking desire to reach out and tap the three of them against the top of their heads, flick their noses, hurt them in a way that would make them stop.

Make them leave.

It faded as soon as it came, leaving him with more guilt—he would never hurt his brothers, not on purpose.

But…they wouldn't stop staring.

"Th' hell d'you want?" Jenot rasped, finally focusing enough to force the prosthetics to work. He couldn't feel them, but the medical droids had coached him to just…move by instinct. Just don't think about it. Talk like you were whole.

Good advice…but easier said than done.

The three cadets flinched as though he had snapped at them, even though his voice amounted to little more than an aggressive whisper. For some reason their fear registered as cowardice—ugly and pathetic, what were they fuckin’ teaching the cadets these days, where was their fuckin’ spine—and Jenot sneered to himself. He would have given anything for a pack of smokes, anything to quell the irritation quickly rising inside of him.

On some level he knew it wasn't normal, feeling the way he did; he had never snapped at cadets before, had never given himself over to the minor annoyances they caused. It was just bad timing…he had wanted to be left alone, just for a moment, just long enough to gather his thoughts and wrestle his emotions back under control. He had just wanted some peace and quiet…and he couldn't even get that.

It wasn't their fault, though. 

They were…fuck, they were just kids. 

They won't be kids for long, a mean little voice whispered inside his head, distinct from the other tumultuous thoughts running rampant. A few more years and they'll be grown, kitted up and on their way to die on some backwater planet for a cause they don't really believe in. 

Jenot closed his eyes, but in the darkness he saw the mutilated faces of his brothers, bloodied and broken, eyes wide and pale as they stared back at him, waiting for him to give their next orders.

“Are you okay?” one of the cadets asked. There was a slight pressure on his shoulder, barely perceptible, and when he looked the cadet gasped and yanked back his hand, his eyes just as wide as those of Jenot's dead troops. Bile rose to the back of his throat and he forced himself to swallow it back down, forced himself to look away, back out at the storm raging just outside the window.

His translucent reflection stared back at him, his new cybernetic eyes glowing faintly. They had shaved his head to attach electrodes to monitor his brain activity while he had been in a medically induced coma prior to and following the extensive surgery required to clean up his jaw and throat and attach the prosthetic. Sticky residue clung to his skin where some of the patches had been.

He felt…different.

He looked different.

He…he wasn't okay. 

He wasn’t okay and he was never gonna be okay ever again.

“Either tell me what you want,” Jenot growled, “or get lost.”

The cadets huddled together closer, two of them clinging to the brassy one Jenot mentally labeled as the ringleader of their little trio. He gulped, throat working hard to swallow past the ball of nerves stopping his words, before stammering out a small apology.

“We just w-wanted t’ know what it's like….out there….”

Jenot made a noise that wasn't a laugh, but wasn't really anything else. 

“Out there?” he asked, nodding toward the window. “Or you mean th’ war.”

Silence, but three pairs of big eyes watching him closely gave him the answer he was looking for.

“Eager t’ get out there and’ show th’ world what you're made of?”

“Y-yessir. We wanna do our part.”

Do our part.

It struck him, suddenly and with a clarity that bordered on blinding, that there was a madness to this war that he had overlooked until now.

Or maybe…maybe that was just the way he had been brought up, trained—conditioned—the way all of them were taught not to question things. Regardless, the idea that they had any ‘part’ in the war beyond the fact that they were, quite literally, made for it, was laughable. 

The Republic he and so many others were so proud to serve remained just out of reach. As clones they had no birth certificates, no citizenship, nothing beyond their CT numbers cataloging their decanter dates. What identities they forged among themselves held tenuous, at the mercy of sympathetic Jedi and the odd senator who referred to them by chosen name rather than number; there was always the sense, deep down, that despite the courtesy they were sometimes shown, they were still just tools of war.

Their ‘part’ was in their existence. Their ‘part’ was the armor on their backs and the blasters in their hands, their blood on the ground as they pushed back against the Separatist armies, fighting a war for a government they had no part in, fighting for worlds they'd never belong to.

“Careful what you wish for,” Jenot said, looking back out the window. “It's not th’ honor you think it is.”

“But…the Republic needs us,” the biggest cadet spoke up. His hair was a little wild and his teeth looked a little too big for his mouth. Despite his size he stood firmly behind the ringleader, hand fisted up in the other’s tunic. Jenot stared at him and watched as the kid dropped his eyes to the floor, unable to meet his intense gaze. 

“You think they need you?” Jenot asked, unable to stop himself from sneering. “Like it just won’t end without you? Like you’re special?”

Uncertainty crossed his face, because why wouldn’t it? They were taught to respect their superiors, both those who came before them and outranked them. Jenot knew their natural instinct would be to believe every word he said, regardless of how treasonous it sounded. Funny…not even a month ago he had always made sure to watch what came out of his mouth. The longnecks had impressed upon him and others that they had a responsibility to the cadets, to set good examples for the kind of soldiers they were meant to be. 

Now though…he just couldn’t think of a good reason why he should bother.

What was he supposed to do while sitting there, looking like a freak? 

“You’re not special,” he said before the cadets could protest. “Not a single one of you. You’re nothing more than numbers t’ them. All th’ kark they feed you during’ training sessions doesn’t mean a thing. Not a damn thing.”

“You’re a liar,” the third cadet finally spoke up, his eyebrows drawing together angrily as he bravely scowled. “Suda Mo says we’ve all got potential. We could become Arc Troopers if we train hard!”

“‘Course they want you t’ train—th’ harder you work th’ better you make them look. You die out there in th’ field they gotta start all over from scratch. But they don’t care, that’s why…that’s….”

They’ll just make more of us, Commander. 

Jenot shook his head, trying to rid himself of the ghostly whispers of his dead comrades. His stomach twisted with every word he said, like something inside of him was still decent and unspoiled by all he had seen…all that had happened. That part of him that kept fighting was the part he wished would just give up and die. He didn’t want to owe the Republic for saving him. Hell, he hadn’t asked to be saved and still didn’t know why, out of all his brothers, he was the one they thought worth the effort with half his body blown away.

You know why.

You know exactly why.

No…stop…don’t think about it.

“I used t’ think th’ same,” he growled, forcing to speak in the hope it would drown out his thoughts. “I used t’ be like you, daydreaming how I’d make a difference if only I could get out there sooner. You see what that kinda thinking got me?”

He gestured roughly to his jaw with his bandaged hand. The cadets flinched, but couldn’t stop themselves from staring in the face of an open invitation.

“What…what happened?” the ringleader asked, taking a step closer. He tilted his head to the side and wrinkled his nose, unable to hide what had to be…it was disgust, wasn’t it?

“Bad orders,” Jenot said. “Intel was wrong. You’ll be surprised how often it is. But we were arrogant. We had Jedi with us an’ thought nothing could go so wrong that we couldn’t make it out alive. We were wrong.”

“You were ambushed?”

“Slaughtered. Like animals. It wasn’t even a fair fight. Not even th’ fuckin’ Jedi could save us.”

“That’s…that’s kark.”

The other two cadets gasped as their fearless little leader cursed back, clinging harder to him like they had half a mind to drag him off. He stood there, anger radiating off of him with his hands balled up into fists as he stared at Jenot, his expression openly defiant.

It was a good look. Maybe he should have just let the kid impress him a little and been the bigger person. He could have just let it go because at the end of the day, they were still snot-nosed cadets who knew nothing about anything and especially not about the world beyond the safety of Tipoca City. All they had to go on was rumor and simulations.

“Say that again?” Jenot hissed, leaning close. He didn’t care about being the bigger person. His heart was pounding, blood rushing through his ears at the thrill of going against everything he had ever been taught. The longnecks would send him straight to reconditioning if they could hear the way he was talking, and he didn’t give a damn. He wasn’t going to keep their precious secrets. He wasn’t going to protect their ‘investments’ any longer. He owed them nothing. He never asked to be born and he didn’t ask to be saved. They had gone and made a monster out of him so that was how he was going to act—monstrous, until someone came to shut him up for good.

“I said you’re full of k-kark!”

“2020, shut up!”

“Man, you’re gonna get us in trouble!”

“Yeah, Cadet 2020,” Jenot jeered, “you should listen t’ your friends. Would hate for your precious caretakers t’ find you wanderin’ out of bed so late.”

“Y-You’re out of bed too!” the one called 2020 shot back. “You won’t say nothin’ ‘cause you’ll get in trouble!”

He had guts to talk back like that. His peers weren’t cowering either, though they weren’t exactly backing him up. At least they had the good sense to keep their traps shut. As much as he wished he could rip them a new one and send them back to their bunks, he didn’t want to run the risk of attracting attention himself; not only would he have to listen to their inane lectures, they’d probably sedate him again. He was so tired of the drugs.

Jenot reached out and snagged the front of 2020’s tunic, dragging him close; the others, hanging on for dear life, stumbled forward as well.

“You got a lotta nerve telling me I don’t know what I’m talking about,” he said, his voice eerily soft and calm. “You think th’ Republic’s so great? You think th’ Jedi are so powerful? Look at me. They wouldn’t let me die.”

2020 blinked hard and fast, leaning away but not quite resisting, still trapped in his training that forbade him from disobeying a direct order, or fighting back against his superiors, who’d only ever try to better him. Stupid, naive little fools, all three of them.

“Y-You should be grateful they s-saved you! They’re only tryin’ to help!”

Something inside Jenot went numb with that—whatever had been burning inside him, keeping him from diving too deeply into territory he’d come to regret, was suddenly snuffed out. 

“Grateful?” he seethed, ignoring the burning numbness in his hand as he dragged 2020 closer, til they were almost nose to nose. “You think I should be grateful? For making me look like a monster? I can’t feel anything anymore! I had t’ lay there an’ listen…listen t’ them kill my brothers!”

“Th-they wouldn’t do that!” 2020 insisted, pushing back finally. “They wouldn’t! The Jedi wouldn’t allow it!”

“SHE’S TH’ ONE WHO GAVE TH’ FUCKIN’ ORDER!!”

He hadn’t meant to yell—rather, he hadn’t been able to control himself. His voice echoed off the arched ceiling of the observation room and back down the hallway leading back to the medbay. The cadets were practically cowering, but he didn’t have it in him to care, not when they had the gall to act so condescending to him. 

Jenot had spent days slipping in and out of consciousness. Before they had fitted him with hearing aids his world had been dark. Sleep was the only escape he had, yet he could only pretend for so long before the murmur of voices woke him.

He couldn’t unhear the things whispered between the doctors and aides. Had they known he was listening in, perhaps they would have taken their gossip elsewhere, but what better place to trade secrets than a ward of death? It was there he heard them admit the only reason he was alive was because the Jedi who had accompanied his unit—even the thought of her name made him want to retch; what good were they if they couldn’t keep his men safe—the one who had kept him alive through the mystical powers of ‘the Force’ or whatever, had ordered the longnecks to do everything in their power to make sure he pulled through. 

She was the reason he was still alive, but she was also the reason he had to lie on a bed surrounded by his dying brethren, listening to their tearful pleas for the pain to stop, listening as they slowly lost their minds to the agony wracking their bodies after being denied painkillers, or the drugs pumped into them when the ‘doctors’ decided they were no longer worth keeping alive even as experiments. The moment they lost their worth was the moment they became nothing more than faulty products.

Jenot stood up, ignoring the protest his body made. 

He couldn’t stand it, couldn’t fucking stand the way these brats thought they knew better, because they couldn’t comprehend a world in which the shiny reputations of the Jedi were so tarnished. They were still too young to fully understand what they were, that the Kaminoans didn’t regard them with fondness or affection. They sat in their bunks, warm and dry and well-fed, complaining about the minor aches and pains of training, with no idea of the horrors they would face on the outside.

“You wanna know th’ truth?” he asked, releasing 2020 to grab hold of his IV stand. “Follow me. I’ll show you…since you think I’m a liar.”

“2020, no,” the small one whispered fiercely. “We hafta get back to the bunks! Suda Mo is gonna do his rounds soon….”

“Yeah, forget about ‘im, he’s just a mean ol’ clone mad ‘cause he lost a fight!”

“No,” 2020 said firmly, “I wanna see for myself. I don’t believe anything he says, so I hafta go. If he’s wrong, then I’ll know.”

“And if he’s right?”

“...then I guess I’ll know that too.”

To their credit, the other two refused to leave their batchmate’s side. They kept close, creeping along the wall in complete silence as Jenot dragged himself back to the medbay. He kept imagining he heard footsteps behind them, the gentle swish of fabric and the slow breathing of their ‘keepers’. He knew shouting would bring security down on their heads sooner rather than later, but rage filled the void left behind by propriety and he didn’t give a flying kark who had heard. They were bound to get caught eventually, but he wasn’t gonna let those brats go without teaching them a lesson the only way he knew how.

The corridor grew darker the closer they got; staff turned the lights off in order to make the patients more ‘comfortable’, but he was beginning to think it was probably to conserve energy. It’s not like they actually cared. Jenot paused to listen, but the only sound was his own labored breathing and the sniffing from one of the cadets—just a little further, however, he picked up the faint beeping of medical equipment.

“We’re not supposed to be here,” the smallest cadet whispered, squeezed as tight as he could possibly be to the larger one, who was shivering in place. 2020 swallowed nervously and Jenot noticed the way he glanced up, but said nothing.

“No one’s gonna know,” he said raspily, just as the doors slid open.

He stepped inside, dread washing over him as the unfortunate familiarity of the room caught up to him. Behind him, the trio hesitated. They couldn’t see inside from where they were standing…which, if he was still the kind of man who wanted to protect the younger clones from the harsh realities of the world for a while longer, he might have stopped them there, told them he was only kidding and they should head back to their room now.

But he was angry, and they had hurt him with their accusations, sharpened their words into little blades and stuck them deep, into the soft parts of him that were still vulnerable and fragile. The parts of himself he’d have to kill before he ever let anyone else use them against him in this way.

“What’s th’ matter?” he asked. “Too scared?”

“I-I don’t wanna go in,” the big one stammered. “I’m good.”

“Y-yeah, me neither. I-I’ll believe anything he says.”

One of the machines kicked off, buzzing as an EKG monitor spat out a printout of one of its patients’ heart rate from the past hour. The cadets gasped as a single unit and jumped in place, looking for all the world like they were ready to bolt back down the hall. The only thing keeping them there was 2020, who stared with wide eyes at Jenot, his face pale and drawn and his expression one of pure, childish regret.

“Coward,” Jenot hissed. “And you think th’ Republic needs a big hero like you?”

His taunting did the trick.

2020 took a deep breath and took hold of his brothers by each of their hands.

“C’mon, I’ll protect you,” he whispered, meant only for their ears; Jenot heard everything though, heard the smaller one’s little whimper and the way the big one swallowed. He grinned, though it didn’t feel like the right kind of smile. The prosthetic was still too stiff, didn’t let his lips move the way he wanted them to. He watched, waiting patiently as the kids took their first few tentative steps past the threshold of the medbay and into the dimly lit room.

“Over here,” he said, gesturing as he released his IV stand to let it trail after him, holding fast by the hoses still attached to his arm. They pulled again but he didn’t feel it and so didn’t care. The berth he led the cadets to was still occupied, one of his men clinging to life with the help of machines.

Fetch, Jenot remembered, so named because of how eager he was to help, so willing to run and fetch anything anyone asked for. 

“Hu-who’s that?” 2020 asked as he crept closer. 

“One of mine,” Jenot said. “One of th’ ones who wasn’t so far gone he couldn’t be of use.”

“What d’you mean?”

He should have just let Fetch die with dignity. He should never have brought the kids into the medbay, and maybe later he’d regret his actions…but in the moment, Jenot pulled back the thin sheet covering his squad mate, revealing the extent of the carnage underneath. 

The ‘wound’, if it could be called that, had been cauterized and sterilized in the field—ropes of intestine laid across the bottom half of the berth, resting over the remains of his hips and legs. Melted armor fused with blackened skin and bone, skeletonizing his lower half and the only sign of life was the shallow rise and fall of Fetch’s chest; just inside the cavity of of his torso his lungs inflated and deflated with the help of the surgically attached ventilator. They hadn’t bothered closing him up, declaring he was too far gone upon arrival…but that hadn’t stopped them from bringing him back anyway at the first sign of life. He still had something to give after all.

The cadets screamed and scrambled back, or tried until Jenot snatched 2020 by his arm and shoved him closer, forcing him against the edge of the bed.

“Take a good long look,” Jenot snarled. “This is what they do t’ you when they’re not ready for you to die. Th’ only thing keeping him alive right now is that machine, an’ it’s doing’ all th’ work. Th’ second they take him off th’ oxygen, he’ll die.”

2020 thrashed in his hold, but even injured Jenot was bigger and stronger, and filled with so much righteous fury that he didn’t think there was any way any of the kids could have stopped him. He had a point to prove after all.

“Let me go!” 2020 yelled, digging his fingers into the bandages wrapped around Jenot’s forearm. “What’s wrong with you?! Let me go!”

“You wanted proof,” Jenot snapped, shoving him against the bed even further, his hand on the back of 2020’s neck, practically rubbing his face into the bare skin of Fetch’s chest. “Here’s your karkin’ proof. They won’t let him die ‘til they’re done with him. They won’t stop ‘til they’ve bled him dry of every resource they can scavenge. How else do you think they keep th’ rest of us alive when we fuck up?”

2020 screamed again—it would have been a little funny if Jenot hadn’t been so furious. He didn’t notice how the other cadets fled, abandoning 2020 to his fate. He didn’t notice anything at all until he looked up at Fetch’s face and saw the skin around his eyes, wet from something—tears? Was it possible for a man to be aware when he was so far gone? Was he scared of dying? Did it hurt? 

He looked down at 2020, still struggling against his hold and crying hysterically, begging now to be released.

“I’m sorryI’msorry’msorryplease–pleaseplease lemme go I’m sorry,” the boy sobbed, twisting and squirming. 

In that moment he looked…he looked so young. So vulnerable. He was…he was just a child.

What am I doing?

The lights came on and Jenot looked up, blinking as two of the medical droids floated over, followed by the on-duty aide. She looked him up and down, making him feel so very small and worthless, before reaching for 2020. He released the cadet immediately, and watched as the kid flew into aide’s legs, hugging her tightly and wailing into her skirt.

“What…is going on here?” she asked calmly, resting a long fingered hand on top of 2020’s head.

Jenot opened his mouth, but his words had dried up. Anything he could have said in his defense would have only incriminated him more. He never should have left the medbay, never should have engaged with the cadets, and he certainly shouldn’t have allowed his petty rage to take over in bringing them back. He stood there, silent, blood pounding through his head and in his ears in a way he didn’t need his hearing aids to be able to hear. It was an ache that transcended pain, but at least it was something he could feel.

“He brought us here!” one of the other cadets yelled from the medbay entrance, peeking around the corner with tears running down his cheeks. “He said he had somethin’ ta show us!”

“Is this true, CC-1313?”

His number hit him like a sledgehammer to the gut. What wind he had left in his sails was stripped away, leaving him feeling weak. Blindly he reached back for the railing on his bed, set up next to Fetch’s, and sat down heavily on the edge of the thin mattress.

“Y…yes,” he said, staring at the floor. 

“I see. There is no excuse for this behavior. You are expected to set an example for the cadets. I will be speaking with the prime minister about this ghoulish incident.”

“I understand,” Jenot said robotically. 

The medical droids fussed, one of them carefully rearranging the sheets to cover Fetch back up while the other hovered around the electrodes still attached to Jenot’s chest and head, taking measurements with its instruments. He sat there and let it happen, wishing there was a way he could have just…ended it, out there in the field. He…he didn’t want this life, didn’t want to share a room with Fetch, watching him die slowly. He didn’t want to face his reflection in the mirror everyday, knowing he looked like…like that. He didn’t want to face her again, knowing she had survived Toydaria as well.

But he would.

He didn’t have a choice. 

They’d make him.

#commander ghoul #cloned-eyes #friend's oc #clone oc #star wars clone wars oc #bad batch oc #ghoul whump #the mun writes

[ahszoebns]

Jake’s Sister. Colby Brock (fluff)

“Colbyyyy" I say, exaggerating as I roll onto my back.

"This is so boring and I already know all of this stuff. Can we please take a break?"

Colby and I have been researching stuff about the Stanley Hotel for the past hour and a half. Even though I wasn’t gonna go, I wanted to keep him company and make sure that my brother Jake and his friends would be kinda safe.

Colby looks over at me with a deadpan look. "You haven’t lifted a finger since you got here, you just listened to what I was saying.'

I roll my eyes and groan dramatically. "Okay, so maybe I’ve just been listening to you, but I know enough that my brain is starting to fry. I say that calls for a much needed break."

Colby looks at me begrudgingly before he huffs out a loud sigh. "Fine, okay okay, let's take a break."

A proud smile adorns my face. I didn't think the stubborn Colby Brock would give up so easily. I roll back onto my side, facing Colby who sat up against the side of the wall his bed was pushed up against. I pushed the upper half of my body up so I was sitting normally now, as opposed to being sprawled across Colby's dark black pillows. I move to sit beside him, my positioning the exact same as his; both of our heads leaning against the cold wall.

We sit there in comfortable silence before I whisper.

"Thank you for putting up with me, it means a lot." I say while smiling softly, looking at the opposite wall of his room.

I close my eyes as I hear his head shift, turning to look at me. He whispers back.

"You know I love you. I'm always here for you, for anything." He says in the most genuine voice I have ever heard. I know he is giving a deeper meaning when saying the last part, and I know he is telling the truth when he says that. He would always be here for me, and I would always be there for him too. I just hope he knows that.

I can feel his gaze locked on my face. I look over to him, both of our heads remained in contact with the wall. His eyes roam my face. From my eyes, my eyebrows, my nose, my almost nonexistent freckles, to my lips. I feel the blush forcing itself past my ears and onto my cheeks. I do the same to Colby. Looking at his gorgeous, baby blue eyes, his eyebrows (which are one of my favorite features about him), his cheeks that have little moles, his adorable nose that is the cutest and finally his lips. The ones that I have been lucky enough to kiss countless times before. I looked up back to his eyes and before I had time to process it, his lips were on mine.

Several seconds later, we both pull away before opening our eyes and looking at each other intently

I lean forward, wanting his lips to be touching mine again. This feeling. It's one I could relish in forever.

After seconds, I pull away and softly kiss as many of his moles as I can. With these actions I earn little hums of pleasure coming from Colby’s lips, which only motivates me more. I move my left leg over to the other side of his lap, now straddling him. I hold onto each side of his face before pulling away and looking at him attentively. He looks at me similarly, his eyes sparkling in the light.

"I really, really like you." I whisper.

"I really, really like you too. Like, a lot." He whispers back, brushing a strand of my hair behind my ear.

My hands travel up to his hair and my nails, very gently, scratch along his scalp. His eyes close slowly and softly. I pulled lightly on the roots of his hair causing him to mutter three small words that hold the power to affect me significantly.

"Oh my god."

Once the words leave his mouth, my lips are smashing against his once again. Our lips move in sync as if we had done this a thousand times.

His hands are gently placed on the small of my back before I feel his hands slowly work their way down. He pauses at my hips, his fingers dipping under my shirt. The smooth pads of thumbs find a The smooth pads of thumbs find a simple rhythm, rubbing soft circles on my back. On the other hand, my hands pull onto his roots one last time before trailing down his torso, landing on his waist. I hear a low groan comes from Colby’s mouth. His lips trail down towards my neck, while his hands move towards the inside of my thighs.

His touch is electrifying and feels as if his fingers are leaving a trail of tingles as they move closer. My head rolls back in pleasure, giving him more access. My mouth parts slightly, letting out a small moan. When did Colby Brock learn how to do this? I shake the thoughts out of my head and redirect my eyes to look at him. The eye contact is intimidating but I can't help not looking away.

My own hands do their own exploring, finding their way to his belt. I look down and look up to Colby’s eye level again, silently asking if it's okay to go further. He nods his head before whispering a small "yes"

I nod my head with a small smile on my face before carrying on with my previous actions. I start to undo his belt and just as I am about to, the door swings open.

Colby and I stop and whip our heads to the doorway, snatching our hands off and away from each other.

"Jake! What the hell, man? There's a very obvious reason why the door is closed." I scold Jake while giving him a very harsh death glare. It didn't surprise me that Jake was randomly at Colby’s house, this always happened.

"Hmm I don't know. Maybe you should've thought about that before doing it.” He returns the glare while looking at both of us. My legs are still on each side of Colby before I come up with a quick retort.

"Oh please Jake, like I haven't heard you and Tara before. I may not be near your room but you guys are really loud sometimes. Just think of all the times I could've barged in to stop you guys, but I didn't." I smirked at Jake, who continued to stand at the door, dumbfounded. I roll my eyes and laugh lightly.

"O- okay. But.. tha- that's different!"

"Goodbye Mr. Webber." I wave. He huffs out a breath, loudly as he closes the door and leaves.

I turn back to look at Colby. His smile is wider than ever as he looks into my eyes.

"You know, you're pretty amazing." He praises.

"Thank you, I think I'm pretty amazing too." I sarcastically reply with a goofy smile on my face.

Colby rolls his eyes before kissing me quickly.

"Now.. where were we?"

[bagsybaggins]

Chapter 8: Strange Feelings

[Previous Chapter]

YN opened her eyes, looking up at her ceiling, a sense of something wrong tinting the air. She inhaled softly, turning her head towards her nightstand and looking at the clock. Groaning at the time, she rolled out of her bed and rubbed her eyes. She closed her eyes, listening to the sound of Dustin and Mom fawning over Dustin's costume. 

'Dare-'

Opening her eyes she looked up, turning to the end of her bed. She frowned, her fingers curling into her blanket before she shook her head. Standing up from her bed, she yawned as she walked towards her door, opening it and hearing Mom ask to see Dustin's 'pearls.' As she turned towards the living room, she paused as she felt a shiver crawl up her spine. She looked to her left, towards the basement door, an feeling in her brain pulling her towards the door.

"Dare-Bear! Why aren't you ready for school?" Her Mom said, breaking Dare out of her staring match with the door.

"Sorry Mom, woke up late."

---

"No, Nancy-"

Nancy leaned against her locker as she looked at me. "Come on Dare, you can't just not go."

I look at her from the corner of my eyes and raise my brow. She sighs while rolling her eyes.

"I mean you could, but I want you to be there Dare. So you can stop me from doing anything stupid."

I pause for a moment, my hand still on my notebook before I sigh. "I'll think about it, okay?"

She smiled and opened her mouth to say something, but I interrupt her. 

"I mean it, Nance." I close my locker, turning to her with my books in my arms. "I'll think about it, but you know how I feel about parties. If I don't go, you can't be mad at me. It always ends up the same way, with a bunch of drunk people and stupid mistakes."

She stares at me, her smile drifting slowly, and then she nods. "Alright, that's fine. Just give it some thought, and call me when you decide okay?"

I smile and nod my head. "Will do Nance. I'll see you later."

I brush past her and head to my next class, knowing that if I turned to look, she would be watching me with a frown. 

I knew she wasn't mad, but she wasn't happy either. If Barb was here, she would've gone and I would be either at home or with Dustin trick or treating. That's how it always went. And I didn't want to change that.

I sigh heavily as I turn into my next class, my eyes drifting close as I try to calm down my brain. Stopping it from frying with overthinking. From trying to think about what could happen if I went, what could go wrong. About what could happen if I didn't go.

"Shit!" I exclaim as I run into somebody, my nose hurting from hitting their chest.

As I rub my nose, I open my eyes and look at who I had run into.

The new guy, Billy I think his name was, smirked down at me. My eyebrows furrow as I look at him in confusion, before I shake it off.

"Sorry, didn't see you there," I mutter, taking my hand off my nose.

"Course you didn't see me there, you had your eyes closed." He said, crossing his arms and leaning in closer to me.

I raise my right brow before smiling thinly and nodding my head. "Yep, you're right. My bad."

I try to brush past him but he puts his hand on my left shoulder, stopping me. I turn to him and he smiles down at me.

"Sorry, I think we got off on the wrong foot. I'm Billy Hargrove, and you are?" He asks.

I stare up at him, my nerves buzzing underneath my skin before I sigh. "I'm YN, YN Henderson. You're Max's brother, right?"

He raises his brow before nodding his head, snapping his finger, and pointing at me. "That's right, you're the one who had called out her name our first day here. In the parking lot, right?"

Nodding my head I smile. "Yeah, that's right. She's awesome, kicked my ass at a few of the arcade games."

He pauses for a moment, his smile frozen on his face as he looks down at me. Then he laughs and his smile stretched wider, leaning in towards me. 

"She's always been good things like that. Say, are you going to the party tonight?"

I hesitate to answer as the bell rings, and I chuckle awkwardly. "I'm not a fan of parties actually. But, if I'm there, I guess you'll see me."

And I push past him with a smile. "It was nice talking to you!" And I head towards my seat, him watching me before he left the classroom.

---

Dare sighed as she sat down at the normal table for lunch taking off her hat, crossing her arms on the table, and resting her forehead against them. She closed her eyes, breathing in for a moment and letting herself relax.

"Hey, Dare-Bear."

She huffed as she felt Eddie sit down beside her. "I thought I told you to not call me that."

His laughter caused her to look up and glare at him.

"Just because you tell me to not do it, Sweetheart doesn't mean that I'm not gonna keep doing it." He grins as he leans his head on his hand, looking down at her.

She rolls her eyes, turning her head so she faced him, but didn't lift her head from her arms. "True enough, Edward."

Eddie visibly pulled back, his face scrunched up in a frown of disgust. "Don't call me that, ever again."

She cracked open her eyes, lifting her brow. He sighed and nodded his head. "Fine, no more Dare-Bear."

She smiled.

"But I'm keeping Sweetheart then!" He exclaimed, lifting his index finger as if to make a point.

She sighed and lifted her head. "Fine, I'll allow it."

Eddie grinned before leaning his head back on his hand. "So what's up with the long face Sweets?"

Dare paused, glancing at him before sighing and resting her chin on her hand. "Nancy wants me to come to the party tonight."

Eddie raised his brow, nodding his head. "And I take it that you don't want to?"

Dare huffed before shrugging, leaning back and her hands dropping to her lap. "No, not really. But, I don't want to go trick or treating this year either." She turned to him. "But I also want to make sure Nancy doesn't do anything stupid, like puke in the bushes."

Eddie cringed, agreeing with her with a nod of his head. "Right, right. So what do you plan on doing?"

Dare hesitated before slouching over in her spot. "I guess I'm going to the party. Not like I have anything better to do, you know?"

He shrugged. "I mean, you could always hang out with me."

Dare smiled and grabbed her hat, putting it back on. "True, but how about you come along! We can just hang out there, making sure to disappear so we don't have to get involved with whatever happens."

Eddie paused, his lips thinning as he looks away from her. Dare laughs as she nudges his shoulder with her own.

"Come on Eddie! Who knows, it might not be a shitshow!" She smiles widely as she pokes his side. "Don't leave me to the wolves Eds!"

He groaned, throwing his head back and brushing her hand away. "Fine, FINE! I'll go."

Dare let out a cheerful whoop, her arm slinging around Eddie's neck. "YES!"

Eddie laughed, hugging her back briefly before pulling away, his ears a bright red beneath his hair. 

"Yeah yeah, don't act so excited. I doubt you'll even notice me, I tend to blend into the background." He coughed as he looked back at her.

Dare smiled and shook her head. "Guess I'll just have to go and find you, now won't I."

He grins at her, nodding his head. "Guess you will."

---

"Nancy-"

"No, Dare. You look great like this!" Nancy exclaimed as she put on some eyeliner on me.

I glare up at her before brushing her hand away, looking over at the mirror. I pause before nodding my head and shrugging. "Alright, you're not wrong."

She grinned at me as I stood up and walked to the door. "Steve driving us?" I ask, turning to her as I put on my hat.

"Yes he is, but don't wear the hat-"

I stick out my tongue and turn back around. "Not happening Nance, either the hat stays or you go with Steve without me."

She huffs as she crosses her arms, her brow raised at me. I cross my arms, mimicking her. And soon enough, she folds and rolls her eyes. 

"Fine, you can wear your hat." She looks back at the mirror, fixing her little ribbon. "You do know that this is a costume party, right?"

I hum as I look down at my attire, shrugging quickly. "I'm dressed as Sarah Connor, or at least I tried to dress as her. So I'd say I got my costume as close as I could to the real thing." I look back at her, raising my brow. "And you are?"

She looks at me, but before she could say anything, there was a knock on the door.

"Nancy! Steve's here!" Mrs. Wheeler said through the door, and I sigh.

"Coming!" Nancy called out before giving me a look. "Just try to enjoy tonight, alright?"

I look at her as I nibble on my bottom lip, before nodding. "Alright, I'll try. Just don't do any stupid shit, alright?"

She smiles at me, nodding her head as she hooks her arm around mine. "Of course not."

---

Dare sighs heavily as she finally escapes the heat of the dance floor, going into the backyard that wasn't as crowded as it was inside. She blows a strand of hair out of her face, adjusting her grey jacket so it was rolled up to her elbows. She pulled at the collar of the peach and white tie-dyed shirt, grimacing at the scratching of the tag in the back.

She paused for a moment, looking over the crowd of people in the backyard, drunkenly dancing to the music. She didn't exactly know how long she had been separate from Nancy, but she knew that Steve would keep her safe. Dare frowned again, not seeing any good familiar faces that she had wanted to see. 

Towards the edge of the fence, Eddie stood with his arms crossed. He couldn't believe he was there, but he knew why he was. He sighed for what seemed to be the hundredth time before he finally noticed the person he had been searching for. Only, she hadn't noticed him.

He took a moment to focus on her, standing on his toes and moving around people to catch a clearer look at her. He smiled when he realized what she had worn as her costume. He glanced down at himself, the warmth creeping onto his face as he remember what he had decided to wear. And they were matching.

He had gone as, in his own style, Kyle Reese. From the Terminator movie, they had gone to see together almost three days ago. And she was Sarah Connor, but wearing the same hat that she always wore. 

He grinned a little wider as he watched her flip off someone who had obviously bumped into her, her frow visible from there. The feeling in his stomach fluttered again as she crossed her arms, leaning back against the house. He inhaled sharply as her gaze drifted over where he was.

But the butterfly in his stomach started to sink, as her attention was caught by someone else. Billy had approached her, smiling as he recognized her. And she returned it, though not as widely as he had.

"YN, you're here. I'm glad you could make it." Billy said as he leaned his right arm on the house. "I guess you arrived a little late, you weren't there when I was announced the keg king."

Dare laughed and shook her head, her smile thinning. "No, must have just missed it."

Her eyes drifted over the sea of people in the backyard, before Billy leaned in closer and blocked her vision.

"What's on your mind? Can't stand the sight of me?" He laughed, his smile faltering just ever so slightly. 

Dare's eyes widened before she shook her head rapidly. "Oh no! I was just, worried. I couldn't find my friend, and I just wanted to-"

Billy chuckled and nodded. "To look after them, right?"

Dare paused before smiling softly. "Yeah, it's what I do."

Dare flushed a soft pink as Billy leaned in more, a smirk drifting across his lips. "So would you take care of me too?" His hand pushed her cap up from her face.

Her brows twitched downward at his words, confused she asked, "What-"

But before she could finish her sentence, Billy kissed her.

Eddie felt his heart drop to his stomach, hell to his feet. He knew that some part of him wanted to scream, to pull her away from him. But he didn't. He couldn't. His fingers clenched tightly into a fist, his eyes narrowing as he glares at the two. But then he remembers.

She wasn't his. 

Eddie exhaled and turned away from them, walking back towards the gate to leave. He paused for a moment, looking back at the two, before walking out.

Dare leaned back, her eyes wide and her cheeks a bright red as she parted from the sudden kiss.

"Why'd you do that?" She asked softly, her voice in disbelief. 

Billy smiled as he leaned back toward her, his hand cupping her cheek, and his thumb touching her bottom lip. "Because you're adorable."

Dare blinked at him before reaching up and pulling her cap down, stepping out of his reach. "I should go check on my friend."

He laughed as she scrambled towards the door, not missing the redness of her cheeks.

"I'll find you later YN." He called after her, causing her to pause and look back at him. "You still need to take care of me, right?"

Her throat tightened and she looked away from him, trying to blend into the crowd as she tried to go back inside. But as she looked towards the fence, she stared at the back of someone who was walking away. She felt like she knew them, but she couldn't put her finger on it. But she recognized the coat from the movie. Someone had been her Kyle, and she didn't get to meet them.

---

"I don't understand Steve! What the hell happened?" Dare yelled as she followed him to his car.

"What do you want me to say, Dare?" He said as he turned around, looking at her with his eyes slightly red. "She told me she wasn't in love with me. Said that it was bullshit, that I was bullshit."

Dare gaped at him before frowning heavily. "What else happened Steve?" 

Steve shook his head with a scoff, his arms hitting his sides. "Nothing else happened-"

Dare glared at him, her finger poking into his chest as she pointed her finger at him. "I know Nancy, Steve! What set her off, what else happened?"

He paused for a moment before sighing, looking down at the ground. "Barbra's parents, they're selling the house because they need money to try and find Barbra."

Dare's eyes widen as she takes a step back, her shoulders slacking. "Oh."

Steve nodded, not looking up from the ground. "Yeah."

She put her hands on her hip looking back at the house that was still lively, before looking back at Steve. His eyes were red, and his sniffling made her sigh.

"You should head home Steve-" He looked up at her, his eyes darting back to the house for a moment.

"No, I need to take-"

Dare shook her head, putting her hand on his shoulder. "No, Steve. You need to go home, wait until tomorrow when she's sober okay. Then you can talk to her. I saw Jonathan in there, and I'm sure he'd be fine with taking her home. But right now, you need space okay."

Steve frowned heavily, opening his mouth to argue before Dare covered his mouth with her hand. 

"Go home." She glared at him lightly, waiting for him to nod his head.

"Fine, I'll go." He sighed as he pushed her hand away. "Do you need a ride?"

Dare paused, frowning in thought before sighing. "I should get back, or maybe try to find Dustin and them."

Steven nodded his head, sniffing one more time as he wiped the corner of his eyes. "Then, umm, hop in."

---

I sighed softly as I looked out the window as we drove by the many trick-or-treaters. I glanced at Steve from the corner of my eyes, frowning when I see him wipe at his eyes again. I bite the inside of my cheek, before mentally kicking myself. 

"You can drop me off here. They're over there." I say, lying through my teeth.

He turns to me before looking ahead and nodding. "Alright." He said softly. 

I huff and smile as he pulls to the curb. "Thanks, Steve. And, give her time. I'm sure everything will work out eventually." I grin lightly as I open the door and step out.

He nods his head, not looking at me. "Thanks, Dare. You're really nice."

I shrug. "It's only for my friends. Have a good night Steve."

I shut the door after hearing him repeat it back, waving at him as I walk in the opposite direction. He pulled away from the curb, driving off towards his home before I groan and turn around and head towards my house.

I walk through the sea of trick-or-treaters, laughing to myself at some of the silly costumes. Most of them were heading home, their bags full or because of their own curfews. And I knew that the boys were on their way home too. And as I turn the block, not too far from my house, I notice something strange.

I frown as I continue walking down the street, my hands shoved into the pockets of my jacket. As I get close to the edge of my street, the blue figure turned toward me. Hesitating to step forward, I glance around at the nearby trick-or-treaters, noticing how they didn't spare the figure a glance. Swallowing thickly, I push the growing fear down, taking another step towards the figure. 

As I decide to ignore it, pretending that it wasn't there, I feel the fear bubble as it turns and follows me after I had passed it. I didn't look at it, nor did I hear its steps. But I could feel it following me, somehow I did. Turning my head ever so slightly, I try to get a look at it from the corner of my eyes, but a car passes by and the figure is gone.

My nerves are buzzing beneath my skin, and I couldn't ignore the feeling anymore. I turn down my street and run towards my house, ignoring my lungs as I feel them constrict. My feet thumping against the ground, and my heart pounding in my ears doesn't block out the feeling that it was still following me. Watching me.

As I turn to the front door, my hand on the handle, I look back. But there was nothing. I heaved and wheezed as I shuffle into my pants for my inhaler, my eyes glancing around for the blue figure. And even as I manage to calm my asthma down, the figure was gone. And the feeling had faded away.

I sigh heavily, placing my inhaler back in my pocket and opening the door. Relief floods through me as I walk into my house, my eyes drifting to my mother who had fallen asleep on the couch. I smile as I walk toward her, grabbing the remote from the side table and turning the tv off. 

"Taking care of your Mom as always." I hear a voice say, one I hadn't heard in a long time. 

I let the remote fall from my hands as I turn my head towards the sound of the voice. My eyes widen in panic and horror as the blue figure steps out of the kitchen doorway, and into view. 

My father smiles at me, his body a strange see-through blue. Like from Star Wars. His eyes drift to mine, and his smile falters for a moment. His brows furrow as he takes a step closer and points to himself.

"Can you see me, Dare-Bear?" He asks, and I inhale deeply.

And then I turn around and head straight out the door. I ignore him calling my name, jumping down the steps, and grabbing my bike.

"Dare- YN wait! We need to talk if you can see me-"

"I am not talking to a figment of my imagination Dad!" I pause as I look at him, before shaking my head. "This isn't okay."

He calls out for me as I peddle down the street, with only one destination in mind. To the one person who I knew I could count on. Hopper.

---

I had seen his car speed down the street from the road I was about to turn on. And I failed to get him to stop. And after chasing him, for what seemed to be hours, I caught up to him. His car was left on a trail deep in the woods, I could see the cabin not too far from the car. And after I stopped and used the rest of my inhaler, I decided to take my time with actually getting to the door.

"Why is he all the way out here?" I mutter to myself, huffing as I drop my bike next to his car.

As I walk towards the house, I notice a small flash near the ground. I frown before moving my head back and seeing it again.

"Is that a wire, or a spider web?" I ask, before kneeling and putting my hand out.

My eyes widen as I feel the thick wire against my fingertips, and I launch myself backward. I sit on my butt, staring at it in confusion before inhaling deeply. 

"It's probably nothing." I stand up, stepping over the trip wire carefully, and then walk to the house. 

As I walk onto the wooden porch, I hear footsteps on the other side of the wall. I quietly kneel, trying to creep to the door, feeling like something was off. Maybe my gut was just going haywire, but something wasn't right.

Kneeling in front of the door, I listen in on what was going on inside. The tv was playing in another room, but heavy footsteps were moving around in the living room. I frown heavily before I reach into my pocket and get the bobby pins from it. I swallow down the lump in my throat, slide the pins into the door, and slowly try to pick it. I could feel the cold October breeze against the back of my neck and against my cheeks as I heard the audible click, and how it went silent on the inside.

I quickly turn the handle and push the door open, climbing to my feet before raising my hands. 

"WHOA WHOA HOP! IT'S ME!" I yell as I was met with the barrel of the gun. "It's just me Hop, don't shoot."

He stares at me in disbelief, before lowing the gun and putting the safety on. "Jesus Christ Kid. You almost got yourself killed! Why the hell are you here? Did you follow me?"

I slowly drop my hands to my side and shake my head, before nodding. "Yeah, I followed you. But for a good reason! I needed to talk to you about something! I saw-"

"No, Kid you need to go home. You can tell me tomorrow-" And he tried to push me out the door before the door opened behind him. 

We froze as I looked over his shoulder and made eye contact with someone else who I thought was dead, or gone. But she wasn't blue like he was.

"Hopper, what the fuck?" I say slowly, turning to him in disbelief.

---

I cover my eyes as I try to digest what he had just told me. How he had been hiding her for months. How she had been with him for months and didn't tell us shit.

"Look, Kid. I understand that you're upset-"

I scoff and shake my head, lifting my hands from my face. "No Hop, I'm not upset. I'm angry and confused. Because I don't know what is going on with me, and now you’re adding this-"

"Whoa whoa whoa. Hey, what do you mean you don't know what's going on with you? What's going on with you?" He asked as he kneeled down in front of me, with Eleven to my right.

I fiddle with my fingers before I look at him again. 

"It's crazy Hop. I think I might be going crazy." I whisper, my voice breaking as I feel my emotions starting to boil over.

He frowns and shakes his head. "You're not crazy, why would you think you're crazy Kid?" 

I exhale deeply before sniffing slightly. "I saw Dad."

He paused, his face frozen in confusion and disbelief before he frowned again. 'What do you mean, you saw your Dad?"

I inhale deeply as I cross my arms and lean back against the couch. "I was on my way home, from the party. And I saw him, on my street. I didn't recognize him because I didn't get close to him. I felt like I was being watched, so I ran home. And when I walked in, he was in the kitchen so I didn't notice him." I pause as I look back at Hopper. "But then he said, 'Taking care of your Mom as always.' And I just froze."

Hopper rubbed his hand over his mouth, nodding his head. 

"And then, we made eye contact. And he asked me if I could see him. And I just ran, Hop. I just ran away, because I was scared. I was remembering that night when I had- had found his body. And I just kept remembering that he was dead, and gone. He's gone-" I blink as my eyes begin to sting and tear up, and Hopper quickly brings me into his arms. 

"He's dead, so why am I seeing him, Hop? I shouldn't- I can't." I sob as he comforts me, his hand on my back as he tries to calm me. I could feel El's hand on my shoulder as he patted my back.

"It's alright Kid. Calm down, it's alright. You're safe. Just calm down, take deep breaths." He inhales, and I struggle to copy him. "In and out Kid."

I close my eyes and focus on breathing in slowly, hearing him count down from three. And then we exhale before he nods his head. And we just breathe for a minute or two.

"Better?" He asks, and I nod my head pulling back and wiping my cheeks. 

"Yeah. Thanks." I whisper before he nods his head.

"What did he look like exactly Kid? Can you tell me if anything was off about him?" Hopper questioned, no doubt wanting to figure out what was happening. 

I nod my head. "He was blue and see-through. Like a Star Wars ghost. And he," I paused as I frowned, trying to remember how he looked. "He looked like the way he did before he died. No bullet wound, no blood. He looked normal."

Hopper sighed while nodding his head, standing up. He rubbed his chin in thought before I stood up.

"Hopper is there a chance-"

He shakes his head. "I don't know Kid. But if you see him again. Tell me, alright? I want you to call me."

I slowly nod my head before crossing my arms. "Can I stay here with El? Just for tonight?"

He stares at me before nodding his head with a huff. "Fine, alright. But be sure to not tell anyone, alright? We can't have them learning that she's still alive."

Looking down at El, I nod my head. "Alright, will do Hop."

---

Dare yawned as she opened her eyes, the new day arriving, and a feeling of dread settling into her stomach. As she sat up on the makeshift bed on the floor beside El, she looked over at the girl who was sleeping peacefully. She sighed and slowly got to her feet and opened the door. Hopper was already awake, and he turned to her as she walked out, shutting the door behind her.

"Morning Kid."

She smiled thinly before nodding. "Morning Hop."

He looked at her as he popped some Eggos into the toaster before he place some on a plate in front of her. With a frown, she shook her head and pushed the plate an inch away from her. 

"No thanks, Hop. I'm not hungry." She muttered before clearing her throat. "Can you take me home? I need to get ready for school, and check on Dustin."

Hopper stared at her for a moment before nodding with a sigh. "Alright Kid."

---

I inhaled deeply as I stepped out of Hopper's car, waving him goodbye before he stopped me.

"Remember what we talked about."

I nod my head before turning back towards the front door. As I push my keys in, Mom swings the door open and pulls me into a hug.

"Oh, Dare-Bear! I was so worried about you! I almost called the Wheelers to see if you were staying at Nancy's!" She exclaimed loudly in my ear and I force a thin smile onto my face.

"I did Mom, just didn't feel good so I headed home," I say as I pull back from her hug, my eyes drifting towards the figure I had seen the night before.

"You ready to talk?" He asked gently, his arms crossed as he looked at me.

I sigh and push past Mom. "I think I'll stay home today Mom. I'm not feeling well still."

"Oh alright- Would you like me to make some soup?"

I shake my head. "No, I just want to rest Mom."

I walk into the hall, looking back at Dad before Dustin opens his door.

"Dare! You won't believe what I found-"

I close my eyes as I open my door. "Not now Dustin, please."

And I close the door behind me before collapsing on my bed and closing my eyes. 

I inhale deeply and open my eyes, noticing Dad standing in front of the door.

"Alright," I say as I sit up, crossing my legs and turning to him. "What the hell is going on Dad?"

#stranger things #eddie munson x yn #eddie munson x henderson!reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #yn dare henderson #hawkins #steve harrington #nancy wheeler #jonathan byers #will byers #mike wheeler #the freaking rebel #chief hopper #eleven

[streets-in-paradise]

Certified Paranoid - Barclay Wheeler Family AU Oneshot

Word Count 800 words

Characters: Andy Barclay, Jake Wheeler, Junior Wheeler, Nica Pierce

Warnings: AU were Andy adopts Jake and Junior with some Andy x Nica added to the mix.

Notes: This is a short domestic scene i wrote when trying to distract myself during a heat wave.

Tags: @losersclubisms @series-thoughts

@silvershewolf247

It was the hottest day of the month in the middle of an intense summer that was altering everyone's moods. Spending winter in company wasn't as difficult for Andy as that abnormally hot summertime had been. They were uncomfortable, he was uncomfortable and no one had the willpower to lift a finger about it. 

Two fans in a living room that wasn't huge to start with and a man with two boys trying to find relief was quite a desperate sight. Andy was laying on the largest couch and Junior was on the floor, mimicking a similar position with the addition of a lifeless-like expression. On his part, Jake was moving in synchrony with the rotating movement of the fan that was closer to him. 

" Couldn't you pay some more and get a cabin near a lake?" Junior began to complain at some point in the afternoon. " We would be diving in cold water ríght now. " 

The wishfulness in his tone at the end of the sentence spoke for himself. 

" You picked the wrong side for luxuries, kid. " Andy frankly replied. " If you wanted that sort of shit you should have stayed with Tiffany. Chucky would have been glad of exchanging you for a TV on the post divorce division. " 

Jake laughed and his cousin wished he had anything close to throw at him, or the energy to do it. 

" Don't listen to him, that's just the rich kid inside of him speaking. " Jake deepened the mocks. "Junior wouldn't change you for a lake house. " 

" ... Well, my brain is slowly frying so excuse me if i say dumb shit. " 

"... The less he would trade you for is a Beverly Hills Manor." 

Junior seemed upset to the core and that got an energical reaction out of him.

" Now YOU are saying dumb shit, Jake! I have lived with Andy more than you and I have become an expert survivalist. I'm laying on the floor because it's colder, what is your strategy?" 

" Moving with the wind." 

Imagining the hilarious visual made Andy look at Jake and when he noticed it the boy exaggerated the motion to make him laugh. 

Junior took advantage of the small mood improvement. 

" Dad, can we get an air conditioner?" 

It was weird for Andy to be addressed like that, even more from him but not precisely because it was more emotional than usual. 

His kids always used to call him mom.

" Holy shit, Jun! Are you alright?" 

" I'M BURNING ALIVE!!!" Junior screamed, acting as if he was clumsily attempting to raise. " PLEASE, I BEG YOU" 

Both kids have secretly wondered all summer why they wouldn't have one already. 

" You need a certified technician for that. " The man hesitantly explained. " ... I don't like to have strangers at home. Why do you think I live in the woods?" 

Jake had a good answer for that. 

" So nobody in miles would hear the screaming ?" 

" We know you are the ' i do all on my own' guy, but we can't deal with this shit anymore. " Junior followed, making snarking escalate. " Save that energy for when you try to impress Nica by changing tires." 

Andy actively chose to ignore the last part. 

" Cooling the cabin is a process. If we wanna do it ríght, we need permits. What if someone sees something weird when they come to check the place for the install?"  

The excessive caution of that man knew no límits.

Jake needed to ask an obvious question regarding that extremism. 

" What's next? Are you going to tell us you are afraid Chucky could take his time to find out you solicited a permit, find our technician and possess them, come here and try to kill us all? " 

" I didn't have that in mind, but now that you mention it..." 

" Andy, you are a certified paranoid. " Junior added in the counter strike. " Normally I would say that is awesome, but now it's making us roast in our own fluids. " 

" Yeah, it's not like we can pray to Damballa for good weather. " 

Jake was just joking, but Junior thought it was a brilliant idea.

" Wait a sec... Everytime Chucky speaks to him, it starts raining. " 

" Don't fuck with that, dumbass. What are we gonna do if he demands a sacrifice? " 

" We have our first volunteer!" Junior cheered, ready to pretend he would go macabre. " Thank you, Jake. I will think of you once the air will be breathable again." 

They were coming up with crazier ideas each minute that the bickering lasted. Luckly, Nica showed up at the ríght moment. 

" Let's be rational. " She attempted to calm the boys down. " ... I'm sure Andy can kill a deer in our names and it would be just fine." 

Andy couldn't help laughing and she wheeled closer to him. 

One sweet smile of hers and he was done. 

" So... What should we try first? Getting a cooling system or the voodoo sacrifice?"

#barclay wheeler family au #andy adopts the wheelers au #BarclayPierce #andy x nica #andy barclay #jake wheeler #junior wheeler #nica pierce #chucky fanfiction #chucky 2021

[kimmimaru]

So, I struggle to sleep. My brain will just refuse to shut the fuck up, basically. So I started listening to sleep stories, just to give myself something other than my own thoughts to focus on. It’s worked ok so far, found some that have helped. Anyways, the issue I have is that there are some pretty long pauses between paragraphs in some of them, so the voice will fade away and there’ll be soft music or rain sounds and I’ll be juuuust on the edge of sleep and then the guy will start talking again. It scares the fuck out of me lol. Makes me jump every bloody time. His voice isn’t even loud at all, its very soft and gentle sounding but it’s so unexpected that it jerks me awake again.  Also I use youtube because I don’t know anywhere else (no, I won’t use audible. I already pay for prime, don’t want to fork out extra). I did find one story I enjoy read by Stephen Fry, there’s just something so nice about his voice. And he doesn’t do the long pauses so that’s a bonus. And I really hate that ASMR stuff. It’s weird and uncomfortable.  I just wish I wasn’t so sound sensitive because any deviation from the usual night time noises wakes me up and once I’m awake, I’m awake and there’s no chance I’m going back to sleep. For example: People outside. I live in a usually quiet place, countryside close to some woodland. So when my neighbours come home drunk from the pub and stand outside chatting (I say chatting, its more like they’re so pissed they have no concept of ‘quiet’ and are just shouting at one another) if I was asleep before, I will wake up as soon as I hear their footsteps. The pair of owls who seem to live in the trees outside my house? Loud fucking birds. They like to scream at one another for a good long while. Foxes? Also loud fuckers. Hedgehogs? The worst. Grunting and sniffing. Cats? Ffs no one needs to hear that. My neighbour deciding to cook a whole fucking meal at 3am? Chop, chop, chop, bang bang bang, crash. Microwave ping. Jesus christ. (not to mention the thuds as they walk around in their flat, that’s not their fault though). People opening their windows? So. Loud. Ever listened to big ass Victorian mental hospital windows open? It’s not fun when you’re trying to sleep and then suddenly have the awful feeling that its not a neighbour and someone is, in fact, breaking into YOUR house, through your window even though it’s locked and you have a massive dog who hates other people down stairs. So then you have to get up and wobble your sleepy arse down stairs to make sure. Also the noise from the pipes, the general sounds of other people’s TV’s (is that ghosts having a meeting in your living room? No, it’s your neighbour watching some late night television). And then...and then there’s the sound of electricity. That shits annoying. No one ever believes you either, you can insist until you’re blue in the face that yes, the walls ARE making sounds but no, you’re crazy. It hums. And it’s not tinnitus either.  And yet...and YET, I also can’t sleep in perfect silence either. Because it drives me insane and it comes back to having to listen to my own thoughts. Which is not good. Night time me is mean. So, thank god for fans and sleep music/stories. So long as its not ASMR, don’t have long pauses so you end up with an accidental jump-scare and it sounds like Stephen Fry.

#Late night ramblings #sorry #I am so tired

[yabai-erasure]

2022 kpop wrap up

bro this year did not let up for a second

quick thank yous

wjsn chocome super yuppers thank you for making camp kpop again

fromis_9 dm was the first choreography i learned this year thanks for letting me be a sexy queen for a bit

taeyeon INVU music video was so aesthetically in sync with endwalker that it blew my tiny weed addled brain

pixy villain goth bitches rise up

twice celebrate yeah i cried when they renewed ok

dance class staples

viviz bop bop i didnt watch queendom2

ive love dive you already know

aespa illusion sluuuurp

b side spotlight

rocket punch in my world

red velvet bamboleo

purple kiss singles were ass but their bsides were gold

twice basics fuuuuck yeah dude

itzy racer vocal fry queens

wjsn done dont disband dont disband dont disband

fav post-izone project

i cant even tell you how much joy i get out of seeing most of the izone girlies thriving. yena, yuri, chaeyeon, and eunbi all made fantastic solo songs, wonyoung, yujin, chaewon, and sakura are tearing it up in ive and le sserafim respectively, and I even got peeks of nako and hitomi throughout the year. like, my tiny heart cant take it.

i loved eunbi in izone, i loved her when i watched produce 48 this year, and as a soloist in 2022 she absolutely impressed me. her icy voice and house instrumentals are just what i need and i thoroughly loved glitch and underwater

fav songs i changed my mind about

okay O.O literally had me by the throat until the let me be your super heroooo and then i lost interest. I think I had hit superhero mental saturation from existing on the internet for the last five years and hearing the word superhero was somehow the last straw & i was just like fuck this song. I was wrong dude. several months later, my bedtime edibles would hit and I'd be typing O.O into the youtube search bar multiple nights a week.

also

billlie gingaminga yo

I reluctantly got into boy groups this year

I got into kpop back in 2013 because the goth bar near me had a monthly kpop night. the bartenders were mean as fuck but made unbelievably strong drinks, and they would project the music videos onto a huge screen and my roommate and I would get sloshed and try to twerk to HyunA. It was a simple and beautiful time. but. the DJ who ran the event was such an unabashed EXO stan and we would spend half of the night drunkenly talking shit about her not playing enough girl group songs.

it makes zero sense for me to still have this chip on my shoulder, especially in a year where pretty much everyone agrees that girl groups dominated the industry, but I've been admittedly ignoring boy groups for the majority of my time as a kpop fan and it just started to feel unfair.

drag me for this but Blessed-Cursed got its claws into my brain. I was sick of not knowing what naega byeonhae meant. I liked doing the silly anime pose choreo during Thunderous. I'm like, vaguely aware of who the members of Seventeen are. wow. truly in my growth era. dont ask me about nct tho

who i'm watching for 2023

Fifty Fifty had a no-skip debut mini. higher is fantastic dizzying bubblegum pop, log in is?? cyber girl crush?? lovin me is smooth af, this mini is just so polished for a debut

CSR ohhh myyyy goddd are they filling such a sorely needed niche in kpop right now. I couldn't get into pop? pop the fuzzy effect sounded vaguely horror movie to me, but loveticon is wonderful I can't wait to see what they do next.

period

basically nothing i can say about these tracks, if you listen to them you feel the impact

le sserafim antifragile

ive after like

newjeans ditto

i hope 2023 is better for yall

kep1er good luck truly

itzy blink twice if you need help burying jyps body

loona unionize

closing thoughts

I got to see Twice play in new york and that was sick. thats all

#kpop #wrapup

[mulberrysilk]

Momo, hear me out...jealous Geto who gets jealous of how much time reader spends with his daughters cause he feels like they're taking her away from him, tells himself that it's because she's not doing her wifely duties of producing an heir.

He sulks all day until they're back in bed and even though he wants to stay angry he just wants to be close to her so he ends up spooning her and gently rubbing her tummy imagining their future son, reader is still a little nervous around him but she's grown accustomed to him doing the tummy thing every night.

They talk about how many kids they want, and Geto is just like "two" after he thinks about how much time she already spends away from him tending to the girls and that babies would take up more of her time.

YES LELI. OMG. BLESS UR BRAIN AFDHAJD frick this made me fall more in love with Geto AHHHHH

BOUNDED

Geto Suguru x f!reader

cw: arranged marriage au!, cockwarming, smut, with a dash of fluff, breeding, mention of pregnancy, hinted lactation kink

a/n: the link to the main fic is there in the title huhu also I have Geto brain rot. ( also sorry, no proofread ;-; ) I can’t wait to write more Geto content afdgshdhshhe

The days where Geto’s presence was sparse in a week were unfortunately too often, you didn’t complain, more like you couldn’t. He’s a busy man, your husband…husband, you caught yourself repeating silently. The way that title was bestowed upon him wasn’t as foreign as it was on the day you two married, slowly you were getting accustomed to it but you still would always greet him shyly when he returned home.

Ah yes, the home. The large old-fashioned Japanese styled home surrounded by thick woods, a green lawn along with a garden and couple yards away was the house for the hired helping hand to keep the house in tip-top shape while Geto was away. With that, he kept his promise of you not having a burden amount of household chores to do.

Loneliness wasn’t a problem, not with how the girls finally moved in recently. They were more than happy to have you around, they donned beaming smiles that warmed your heart and they would talk your ear off with anything and you would always happily listen. They’d express how a feminine touch would do Geto good, and that it was about time he had someone by his side when they’re not. Mimiko expressed that they just wanted him to be somewhat happy and that the hole of loneliness he felt could be filled in by you.

“That’s very sweet of you both to say,” you smiled warmly at them, plating the the croquettes that the three of you made as an activity for dinner. “I’ll do my best to fulfil my duty as his wife.”

The two girls squealed excitedly, hugging you from both sides, the crackle of croquettes frying in hot oil softer than their voices.

“Oh, Y/N-san, can you come with us to Harujuku this weekend?!” Nanako bounced beside you. “Mimiko and I are dying to try this crepe place there!”

Mimiko’s head bounced excitedly, nodding, their expressions reminding you of fluffy puppies wagging their tails in anticipation.

“I’ll have to ask Suguru first,” you told them, switching off the stove.

“That’s okay.” They chirped in unison, the young girls smiles wanting your heart, happy to be giving them some sort of normalcy in their lives. If a mother’s love was what you could give them, then you’ll give your all to grant them that.

But you didn’t expect one outing to become two, then three. The duration of whenever Geto was away now spent with the two girls he adopted as his own daughters, and the man of the house didn’t expect that you’d be so preoccupied with the girls that he wouldn’t even be able to steal a kiss nor a glance whenever he was home or at the headquarters.

Geto from his spot at the head of the table, glanced to the opened shoji doors that looked out at the garden where he could see you and the girls, the conversation between the donators something that went one ear and out the other.

When was the last time he saw you? Touched you? How were the girls stealing your attention so easily from him, your darling, husband?

He let out a heavy sigh, the men sat with him tensed, believing that sigh to be a bad sign. The first commander by his side, inquired quietly of his well being.

“I’m fine,” he tilted his head, eyes still on you, watching the way a smile stretched on your face as the two girls played in the pond trying to catch the fishes.

“You’re sulking,” his first commander pointed out and Geto raised his brows at the curse users statement. “A stormy cloud follows you.” The young man deadpanned.

“Sulking?” Geto’s ever present smile remained on his face masking to those who weren’t close to him of the green jealousy he felt sprouting from his chest.

Did you enjoy spending time with the girls rather than with him? Why weren’t you greedily pawing at his robes whenever he was home even if it was for only an hour or two before he’s off again? With how busy he was, how was he going to make sure his seed takes and produce an heir?

“Suguru,” you approached him after the meeting was over. You stood close to him but maintained a respectful distance since you two were not at home. “Are you done for the day?” You asked sweetly, your hands behind your back, hiding something from his gaze.

From his seat on the tatami, his cheek resting on his knuckles, he watched as you knelt and sat on your heels, kimono robes folding neatly with your movements.

“Not quite,” he answered, reaching out to twist strands of your hair between his fingers, feeling their soft texture as if they were the most interesting thing in the world. “Why?” He cocked a brow, a teasing smirk, the same one who showed you on the day you on got married on the journey to your shared home. “You miss me?”

Heat exploded in your cheeks and from the way your brains cogs seemed to malfunction, Geto assumed from your flushed face that you did miss him but was too shy to admit it,

“D-don’t overwork yourself,” you simply replied, looking away, fighting the urge to over your hot face with your hands. He didn’t like it when you hid your face from him you remembered. “I brought you some biscuits the Mimiko, Nanako and I made this morning.” You took his hand, placing it gently on your lap before occupying his empty palm with the carefully packed biscuits.

Not expecting a thank you at all, you bowed your respectfully, as you were taught, and made movement to leave. The large tatami room still had some of his followers lingering about discussing and making conversation with other member, you believed it was best to act professional as to not interrupt anything.

A soft tug at your wrist, you were pulled to Suguru’s chest, your hands finding it’s place on his shoulders for support. Before you could say anything, soft warm lips pressed against your temple.

“Thank you,” he whispered before letting go, your heart pounding in your chest.

In the corner of his eye, Geto could see his two daughters giggling behind the shoji door.

“Come home safely,” you murmured softly, the concern in your voice making Geto’s heart flutter, something he’s been feeling lately with you.

When he did get home, you had prepared dinner for the family, the girls keeping you occupied again after the meal just when he thought he could have you to himself. But he couldn’t blame them…how long have they gone without a mother figure? And there’s only so much he could give them as a stand in father.

When will he get you alone, he wondered, taking a sip of the sake you poured for him as you and the girls did the dishes together, a domestic sight, a normalcy, he wanted to protect. You looked cute in that apron too, he’d like to see you with nothing but the apron on later if he could.

And he did.

Once the girls were fast asleep in their rooms on the other side of the house, Geto wasted no time in pulling you close to him, kissing you deeply with need, tongue dancing with yours as his hands wandered your curves. The thought of how your time was not filled with him gnawing at his chest, jealousy oozing, his anger silent.

“Suguru,” you chuckled, his lips on your neck ticklish.

“Mhm?” He hummed pulling away to look at you and pinning your wrists against the mattress, before sliding his fingers to intertwine with yours. “What is it?”

You debated on telling him, the whole idea or feeling of it, childish. You slid your hands into his hair, untying his hair from the half up bun it was in, letting it fall freely. “It’s nothing.” You smiled, caressing his cheek, his high cheekbones and dark slanted eyes features of his you admired.

“It’s not nothing. I can see it in your eyes you want to tell me something,” he spoke, pressing his thigh against your core, the apron he requested for you to keep on while remaining completely bare beneath it, only the thing that’s covering you.

You softly moaned, hips rolling upwards to grind your clit against his thigh, the movement delightfully surprising him. You were getting more and more comfortable with him, slowly easing yourself to be more open with him. But he liked you like this, greedy hips grinding against him and looking at him in that way where he was all you ever needed. He shuddered when he felt your growing arousal make it easier for your slow movements glide against the skin of his thigh.

“I just missed you that’s all,” you admitted, squeezing his hands while you shuddered from the pleasure slowly building up inside you.

“Then why didn’t you come look for me?” He pressed his nose against the curve of your neck, deeply inhaling your scent. “I would’ve been more than happy to entertain you.” He sucked on your sensitive spot, earning him a sweet moan.

“I-I wouldn’t want to distract you from something important,” your arms snapped around him, nails digging into his flesh, his thigh pressing a little harder at your clenching core.

“How sweet of you,” he hummed, snaking a hand down between the two of you, your walls clenching around nothing when his cool fingers brushed against your hipbone and whining when you felt the tips of his finger ghost over your clit. “I look forward to coming home to you every night, you know that?” He slowly to massage your hardening nub in circles, slick leaking out of you. “To kiss you, to touch you, to see your pretty face light up as if you haven’t seen me in years. All of that for me? You spoil me.”

You wanted to say that he was the one spoiling you. Whether he loved you or not, it didn’t matter. You were indebted to him, to his kindness, that he wasn’t hurting you and degrading you for having weak cursed energy flowing within you unlike your relatives.

“And besides all of that,” his fingers teased at yo ur entrance, his dark eyes watching your eyes shut and your lips get bitten by your teeth. “You obediently let me fuck this cunt.”

You gasped at the sudden plunge of two digits inside you, filling you up as your walls hungrily clenched around them. His words, his voice and his touch, melted you.

“I was angry, you know,” he curled his fingers you, making you cry out in pleasure. It felt so good. Whenever he touched you like this, it always felt sinfully good. “But I could never stay mad at you.” The obscene wet, squelching of your cunt swallowing his fingers reached his ears, the sound making Geto harder. His other hand tugged the front of the apron aside, your right breast now exposed to cool autumn breeze that blew into the room.

He lowered his head, fingers still pumping in and out of your tight heat, and enveloped your breast in his mouth, his tongue circling around your hardened tip before sucking harshly, the notion making your walls clench around his fingers tighter. Your breathy moans and soft whimpers of his name were as melodious as when he first heard them, and as he continued to suckle on your breast, he couldn’t help but let his mind wonder to the thought of you already swelling with child, your breasts heavy and leaking with sweet, sweet milk.

Those thoughts were not a far away dream but one that he could achieve, and with your knees pressed to your chest, the cute apron crumpled to your waist as your breasts bounced with each thrust, he was getting closer and closer.

Geto was lost at the feeling of your tight walls embracing his length with need, begging to be filled with his seed, to milk him dry. No words except his name could fall from your lips in the moaning and breathless mess of a state you were in, your hands were gripping his biceps, taking each deep stroke so well.

The scent of sex wafted through the air, his guttural groans and moans only stirred you further to the edge, the relentless piston of his hips and the very presence of him, was all too much for you. You couldn’t remember how much you came but you could always make out and remember the sensation of when his hips would still to empty himself in your womb before slowly fucking his cum into you. n the arms of the man who you were bound to by oath, you felt peace and even love. Your thighs twitched from the remnants of your high and the excess of his seed that couldn’t be taken into your womb, leaked out and around his cock that was still nestled inside you, now soft. His body pressed against your back and his lips pressed onto the crown of your head, his hand caressed your tummy’s something he’s been doing lately.

“Sugu…”

“Yes, my dear?” He sounded so at peace, calm. No turbulent waves radiating from him.

“H-how many children do you want? However much you want, I’ll do my best to give you,” you confessed, heart pounding in your chest.

Geto couldn’t repress the smile forming on his face. How lucky of him to have chosen you as his wife. He’d never forget the day he first met you, his path was shrouded with darkness and the brief moment his eyes locked with yours and you gave him a soft smile, the kind that came form the heart, he felt bathed in sunlight.

“Two.” He answered, continuing to caress your lower abdomen.

“Just two?”

Geto was amused with how surprised you were.

“Why?” His hand trailed low, close to your core that pulsed around him. “Do you want more than that?” Even if he only wanted two initially, if you wanted more what kind of husband would he be to deny you? Besides, having a big family with you isn’t so bad.

“I-I just wanted to know,” you hurriedly blurted out, cheeks burning.

“I only want two cause I would be jealous.”

“Of our babies?” Your brows furrowed.

“Yes. They would take all your attention away from me like our girls do,”

Your heart fluttered when he called Mimiko and Nanako ‘our girls’. It was such a small thing but it meant the world to you, to be apart of his life and theirs.

“But then again, whatever you do, no matter how mundane…I’ve grown to love.”

“Isn’t it a bit childish to get jealous over your children getting more attention than you?”

That earned you a playful pinch on your waist, making your squeal and unintentionally clench around him, making him softly moan.

“I was never very good with sharing. Plus, who can blame me for getting jealous when I have such a beautiful, loving wife?”

#jjk.works #bounded;Geto #getou smut #getou suguru x reader #geto smut #geto x reader #geto suguru smut #geto Suguru x reader #jjk smut #jjk x reader #tw.breeding kink #tw.pregnancy kink #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #💍.geto

[fangurk]

She’s Always There (Paul Lahote x Reader)

Key:

Y/n: Your Name

Y/l/n: Your Last Name

Y/n/n: Your Nickname

Y/e/c: Your Eye Color

Y/h/c: Your Hair Color

Prompt Given To Me By @ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhghhhh.tumblr.com: hey!! so the reason I'm messaging is because I wanted to request something but can't fit it all into an ask lmao. anyways could i please request a Paul Lahote x reader where the reader has been super close to the whole pack for years and has been Paul's imprint but doesn't know it (bc Sam thought it would be best to keep u away from it all) and they decide to finally tell you about being shapeshifters and being Paul's imprint and you're so mad about them not telling u earlier and there's a huge argument and they and Paul tries to calm you down but you say stuff like 'leave me alone' and things like that and it sounds like you're rejecting him/the bond in ur angry breakdown. anyways Paul is heartbroken and can't get out of bed or eat or anything so the guys finally convince you to come back bc they and Paul need you and it's just the reader cuddling with him and getting him out of bed to take a shower and eat and he realizes that you're not going anywhere and it's just like healing the imprint bond? sorry for this WALL of text, I've just had this idea stuck in my head for a while lol. if you don't want to do it, that's completely fine!! thank you for your time ♡

ok so my guy,, bc this fic has been stuck in my head for a bit, some scenes have developed? so idk i hope this isn't too much, but if u do write it, would u be willing to add like some angst to it, obvi, and maybe a scene/part lol where when the reader tries to get him to shower (bc the misinterpreted rejection made him like super depressed and he just felt low about himself) he won't shower, because he doesn't want to come out and the reader is gone. so either they shower together (not smutty just angst&fluff) or she sits like in the bathroom while he showers LOL. and when he feels a bit better, they go down to eat and he's touching some part of her at all times. if this is too much to like,, include then that's a-okay. i just need to get this OUT of my MIND ugh lmao!/!

Reader Gender: Female

Summary: The Reader has been friends with most of the pack members for her whole life. Which is why, after months of silence and strange changes, she was willing to let them back into her life— until she finds out she’s been told lies that leave her in danger, of course. After a big freak out and two weeks of avoiding them, the boys come begging for her help; it turns out that Paul has some wolf-y claim on her, and whatever she said to him has left him worse for wear...

Warnings: Mentions of Depression, Nudity, Angst, and Cursing.

A/n: this is literally like a whole novel I’m so sorry I got carried away. this is kinda based on a lot of fics I read where the imprint has the potential to really hurt people and I named Paul’s dad.

Word Count: 2.9k+

“The legends are real!?”

Y/n Y/l/n hasn’t ever been so disturbed in her entire life.

After weeks of radio silence, Sam Uley’s little ‘gang’, mostly consisting of people she’d known since childhood, had slowly trickled back into her life. What started as a grocery run with Paul or a movie with Jared had turned into big bonfire parties including Jacob Black and his gaggle.

But that was months ago. Months. And now, as she sits by a fire, surrounded on either side by them, they decide to tell her their little secret?

“Y/n.” Sam says as she abruptly stands, eyes stern and hand raised placatingly.

His actions only served to upset her more and her skin bristles with irritation. Sam was acting as if she, a human surrounded by shape shifters, was the unstable one. As if she could do any damage to things built to kill vampires.

“Don’t you dare, Sam.” She clenches her fists, glaring right back at him. “It’s been months- months- and you’re telling me now?”

“It’s not exactly an easy thing to bring up.” He reasons, voice a little less demanding. “We all wanted to be sure that you were ready to know.”

“Ready?!” Y/n laughs mirthlessly, y/e/c eyes wide with disbelief, “When was I supposed to be ready Sam? W-when one of you gored me? When a cold one ripped me apart?”

Her hands shake as she puts them on her forehead, blinking back tears. Growing up all she’d ever heard were stories of humans getting dragged into fights between wolf and vampire, and she couldn’t bring herself to look Emily in the eye because it was suddenly apparent that wolves alone could hurt people too.

It was so bad, whatever happened to Emily, that they said a bear mauled her— Y/n didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

“It’s not like that, Y/n/n.” Embry chimes in, reaching out to grab his friend's arm.

She yanks her body out of the way and gathers her belongings quickly.

“What is it like then, Call?” She holds her bag to her heaving chest, “because it seems to me that you all have the ability to turn into giant, slobbery freaks that are built for killing vampires and, after completely dropping me for weeks, you decided to keep it secret from me for months. Did it even occur to you that I would’ve been better off knowing right off the bat?!”

No one says anything. Eight shifters and two of their girlfriends sit there, just staring at her like she was speaking a different language.

“You know,” Y/n has to clear her throat to steady her wavering voice, “had you guys really been souped-up on drugs like everyone says, maybe I could’ve handled the lying. But my life was clearly potentially in danger, and you let me hang around without saying anything. I- God I don’t want to see you people right now.”

She leaves with that, stepping over logs and storming back down the beach with determination. Faintly over the roar of her heartbeat, she can hear someone scrambling to stand behind her.

“Wait!— shit, sorry-” Paul grunts, jogging to catch up with her- “Y/n-“

With an unusual gentleness, his warm hand wrapped around her forearm. For a moment, deep in the back of her mind, a foreign feeling tells her to stop, to listen; but that small voice is quickly smothered by the rational part of her brain, and she wrenches her arm from his grip.

“Don’t touch me!” She snaps, lowering her voice, “Leave me alone- I need to be alone.”

Paul stands there, dumbstruck, an unreadable look in his eyes as she walks away. And he’d continue to stand there, looking like a kicked puppy long after her retreating form became a blur amongst the darkness of the beach.

“Paul?” Sam is hesitant, hand hovering over the younger boy’s shoulder a minute before he touches him, “You okay?”

Shrugging his leader’s arm off his shoulder, Paul sighs. “No...I...I’m just gonna head home.”

Instead of going in the directions of the cars, the wolf stalks off toward the woods; Emily stands from her seat, wrapping her sweater more around herself as she watches Paul leave. Concern is written all over her features.

“He’ll be fine, Em,” He pulls her in for a hug, “it’ll all work out eventually.”

ஓ๑♡๑ஓ

Y/n does a good job of avoiding them for a while.

She turns her phone off a few days in and avoids going to First Beach, even when Washington gets a rare, warm summer feel. Books that have sat long forgotten on her shelves get read and TV shows she’s always meant to catch up on get watched; it’s boring and she runs out of options, at one point thinking of dying her hair y/f/c just to spice things up, but it allows her to think. (Or at least it allows this strange little voice in the back of her head to tell her that she needs to go back to them.)

The next time she sees any of the boys is exactly two weeks after the bonfire incident.

She’s curled up on her couch, picking at some of the Clearwaters’ fish fry and barely watching an episode of ANTM, when a fist comes banging down on her door. Turning off the TV, she tiptoes to the window, peeking under the curtain as carefully as she can.

As she expected, Jared Cameron and Embry Call are on her porch, the former standing in front of her door with his hip cocked, the other rooting around in her mother’s plants for something. Cringing, she hopes if she’s quiet enough that they’ll just go away.

Her front door opens within minutes, however, and she realizes her hoping is fruitless.

Should’ve known you can’t hide from wolves, she can’t help but think bitterly.

“Y/n?” Jared calls out through the house, “we know you’re here.”

“Yeah, and you guys should probably move your spare key,” Embry tacks on, flicking the light switch to the living room up, “I've known you forever and it’s still in the same place.”

From her spot by the window, the y/h/c haired girl glares at the two boys, arms crossed over her chest. Embry gives her a lopsided grin and holds the key out to her, his bud plopping down on the couch and pulling her abandoned plate into his lap.

Y/n extends a hand to take the key.

“Has it really been in the same place?” She sounds a little more defeated than she’d like.

“Yeah, it’s always been in your mother’s cornflower pot.”

“That’s...kinda sad.” She wrinkles her nose, pocketing the key with the intention to hide it better later, “but uh, I’ve been ignoring you for two weeks for a reason. Peacefully breaking into my house kinda furthers my need for space.”

Embry scratches the back of his neck.

“Well,” He says, “we need you to come back, man. Paul won’t talk to anyone- Sam doesn’t know if he’s eating, and he won’t even get out of bed for patrol! He needs his imprint-”

“His what?” She cocks her head to the side and Jared snorts from the couch.

“She left before we got there, nimrod,” Jared mocks through a mouthful of food, “she doesn’t know what an imprint is.”

He lets out an indignant “Hey!” as Y/n walks by, snatching her plate back from him on her way to the kitchen. Embry chases after her, a grumpy Jared jumping up from the couch to follow.

“You’re his imprint— you’re basically his soulmate!”

“Really?” She says warily, sealing the fish and putting it back in the fridge.

Both boys nod clumsily.

“You remember a few weeks ago when you saw each other for the first time again and he kinda just stood there like an idiot while you talked?”

“Yeah? Oh!-” She brings her hands up to her mouth, brows furrowed as she recalls.

It was exactly Jared had said. She and Paul had seen one another for the first time in a long time and the minute her y/e/c eyes looked into his, it was like he’d been struck dumb.

Embry gives her an encouraging look, “An imprint is...It's not like love at first sight, really. It's more like… gravity moves… suddenly. It's not the earth holding you here anymore, she does… You become whatever she needs you to be, whether that's a protector, or a lover, or a friend. When you snapped at him last week he thought you were rejecting him….”

A part of her thought about how absurd it was that he knew that whole speech. But the bigger part of her came to a realization that made her stomach churn.

“So he's all depressed… because… of me?” She whispers, leaning back on the counter.

Embry, always a rather sympathetic person, opens his mouth to comfort her, but Jared cuts him off.

“Basically. So are you going to come with us so we can help Paul or are you going to continue being petty?”

In any other circumstance, Y/n probably would’ve thrown something at her for calling her petty. She felt she was completely justified in her actions. A part of her wonders if she can really believe them— they’d spent months lying to her after all. But a larger part thinks about Paul, curled up in his bed, slowly desecrating because he thinks she rejected him.

If it were really all some ploy to get her to listen to them, then she’d at least be the person who chose the well-being of her friend over a petty disagreement.

“I’m coming.” She affirms, pushing herself off the counter, and letting the boys lead her to the car.

ஓ๑♡๑ஓ

Jared and Embry drop her off in front of the Lahote household. They tell her something but she can’t really hear them over her heartbeat, she doesn’t even know they’re gone until it’s too late to turn back.

Getting into the house wasn’t the hard part. Paul’s father, Cyrus, had been leaving as she arrived, and, after he watched her stare at the house with a fearful expression for a few minutes, he happily let her in. The hard part was willing her legs to take her up the stairs to Paul’s room, and then it was opening his bedroom door.

Y/n has known Paul since they were eight, but she was afraid of him until they were eleven. He wasn’t mean, per se, but his anger made him do mean things; she wasn’t entirely happy with puberty and it’s monthly gifts, but whatever it did to make her suddenly un-afraid of him she was grateful for. But now, standing in front of his bedroom door, she had a nagging fear that Paul would revert to that eight year old boy who threw lunch boxes and twisted arms behind backs until people cried.

The door creaks slightly as she struggles to push it open.

His room is almost completely dark except for the light coming from the hallway behind her. Trash and dirty clothes have formed a compact layer on his bedroom floor, foot sized holes leading up to the twin sized bed in the corner. On the bed, amongst the blankets she’s sure he doesn’t need, is Paul— or at least, a Paul sized lump.

As gross as it is, she’s kind of relieved he’s been eating.

“Paul?” She whispers tentatively, stepping toward the bed.

The lump flinches and turns toward her.

“Y/n?”

If the room and the description of his state weren’t heartbreaking enough, his voice definitely was. Hollow, rough, and small, everything it never was, everything Paul wasn’t.

“Is that you?”

“Yeah...it’s me..”

She carefully steps over to the bed, and Paul slowly sits up, pushing his blankets to the side. There’s a beat of silence as she stands between his legs, his reluctant hands coming to rest on her waist after a minute. Y/n let’s him have another to gather his thoughts.

“You really came…” Tears well up in his eyes and loops his arms around her back.

She runs a hand through his hair. “I did, and I’m so sorry, if I had known—”

Paul nuzzles her stomach, “S’fine, you didn’t know, and you’re here now.”

There’s a sort of cute, euphoria lacing his voice and he’s visibly much more relaxed.

“Just don’t ever say that again…”

“I won’t, I promise.”

She’s surprised when he manhandles her into his lap, but she doesn’t really mind. He’s warm and strangely familiar and something about it just— clicks.

“When was the last time you spent, I dunno, a minute or two out of your room?” Y/n asks softly, y/e/c eyes glancing about the room.

The shifter’s only response is a shrug, too busy nosing around her neck with vigor. When he finds a certain spot, it makes her squeak, and this seems to excite him like a puppy finding out its favorite toy makes noise.

“You need to bathe, eat something substantial,” She intertwines their fingers, “and the...pack...they’re really worried about you— are you even listening to me?”

He looks up at her then and flashes her a sheepish smile, answering her question. Pursing her lips, she pulls his arms from around her.

“C’mon, Paul.” She stands up and takes his hand. “We’re gonna get you cleaned up.”

She moves toward the door, urging him forward, only to be jerked to a stop as he stays put. He looks a little distressed when she turns back to him, brows furrowed, almost like he’s in pain.

“Paul?”

He grunts, jaw clenched as the cogs turn in his head. Y/n cocks her head and reaches out for his other hand. It felt like some sort of supernatural intuition, one she’ll blame on the imprint and ask Emily about later.

“Paul, hon, why won’t you come shower?”

“I’m afraid you'll leave,” He says bashfully, “it’s stupid, I know, but part of me is afraid you’ll leave while I’m in the shower.”

Y/n couldn’t help but feel a little heartbroken at his confession. Paul was part wolf, and part of being part wolf was imprinting— she almost wishes she’d have stayed long enough to listen, or been able to focus as the boys debriefed her on the ride over because only being able to speculate how much she’d actually hurt him was eating her alive. He wouldn’t even shower, something he desperately needed to do, because of what she’d said.

Taking a deep breath, she barely registers the words she’s about to say.

“I’ll wait with you, I’ll sit on the toilet, you’ll see me there.”

And true to her word, Y/n does sit on the toilet while Paul showers, reading the information on soap bottles to distract herself from the fact that he was there next to her, very naked. Occasionally he asks her what she’s doing, and she reads the ingredients out loud to the best of her ability, and he laughs a little— she tries to hide her smile, but she was too happy he was laughing.

She closes her eyes when he gets out, letting him dry himself off and pull on some clean shorts. He throws the wet towel at her when he’s done, eliciting a “Hey!” that makes him laugh again.

Now that he’s clean, the two of them descend into his quiet house. Y/n navigates the kitchen, her wolf attached to her hip and being less than helpful, and makes them both something to eat— he doesn’t do much more than stand behind her, wrapped around her, making her life more difficult.

“I’m so happy you came back.” He says, watching her work.

“I was always going to.” Y/n responds, her voice sure and steady.

They talk as they eat, sitting across from one another at the too big table in the Lahote household. Talk about how this was going to work, admitting feelings that always lingered, and everything in between; she hooks her leg around his, watching him scarf down his meal with a wrinkled nose and fondness glittering in her y/e/c eyes.

He’s...gross...but he’s hers, she’s kind of stuck with him.

A date is planned. An actual date.

Paul promises to take her to the local diner (and to wear a shirt, for once.)

“I’ve been saving up for something like this.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, and you can get that dessert you like.”

Y/n laughs softly, but heat spreads up her neck and settles in her ears and cheeks. It’d been a long time since that had been her favorite food, but it was the thought that counted...

When Cyrus Lahote returns from work later that night his son and the Y/l/n girl are awkwardly situated on his couch— him on his back, snoring, her lying on top of him, face tucked into his neck, also fast asleep. The older man turns off the TV and tosses a blanket over the pair, ascending up the stairs with a smile on his face.

Y/n Y/l/n was trustworthy. She’s always there when Paul is in a rut too big for him to handle...

#paul lahote #paul lahote imagine #paul lahote x reader #twilight wolf pack imagine #twilight wolf pack #twilight fanfiction #eclipse #twilight wolf imagines #embry call #jared cameron #sam uley

[daddysfangirls-anime]

Why are you here?

Pairing: Kaneki x reader (x Ayato)

Warning: Fluff, Language, smut, fingering, oral,

Summary: She likes Kaneki and wants to know why he joined Aogiri Tree. She gets her answers and more .

Why was he here?

Ken Kaneki it was obvious he was here for his own personal reasons and benefits. But what were they? Why join Aogiri Tree the people who kidnapped and tortured him? Why?

These were what thoughts ran through (y/n) head every time she saw him. At first, she didn't care but the more she saw him and got to know him the more the questions nagged her.

why was he here?

Her reason was obviously, Ayato, her best friend she followed him like a lost puppy. She had no one else. But why was Kaneki here? It seemed as if everyone but she knew.

Why was he here?

I can smell your brain frying from here. Just go talk to him." Ayato said seating on the window seal (y/n) sat on her bed she had a dumbfounded look. "oh don't give me that look. I can see your head turning. Your wondering why again. How about instead of wondering YOU GO ASK" Ayato had watched (y/n) drive herself mad putting theories of why together. He knew why Kaneki was here, to get stronger simple as that. To reach his true form. Weird sentimental shit.

"you think he'll answer me" (y/n) stood from her bed

"why shouldn't he, it's just a question" Ayato shrugged and (y/n) nodded as she left the room Ayato watched her go.

He didn't like this obsession (y/n) had with Kaneki it made him uneasy. He thought Kaneki a bit unstable though respected him for his strength, goals, and ability to protect his sister. Ayato thought himself almost equal to Kaneki, ALMOST.

(Y/n) stood in front of Kaneki's door hesitate to go in. Alright, alright you got this. She went to knock on his door then opened it not waiting for a response.

"I wondered when you would come in?" Kaneki said standing in front of a window.

"why are you here?" (y/n) jumped straight to the question. Kaneki looked over his shoulder. Did she really not know? Everyone else knew even the higher-ups who allowed him to join knew. But she didn't know. Guess you could blame Ayato for that. Even as a goal he kept her very clueless and innocent.

He was bored maybe this would be fun.

"what, you don't know?" Kaneki turned around. "no" she looked so adorable. "I thought it was obvious, apparently not. Why do you think I'm here?"

"Just a theory but...maybe Ayato. I mean he's Touka, your friend's, brother. Maybe you're here to convinces him to go back. Or... you' re a spy here together secrets maybe you' re part of the CCG. Oh, or you're here to work up the ranks then kill the one eyed ghoul, The leader".

(y/n) took a seat on Kaneki's couch as she rambled on and on somewhere in her rambling she switched from theories to books to movies. She didn't even notice when Kaneki handed her a cup of coffee. Kaneki found her rambling and how she easily switched between topics adorable (y/n) didn't even notice how comfortable she had made herself until she took a sip of her coffee.

Shoes off, curled up on his couch, coffee in hand, Kaneki sitting across with a small smile.

"oh my gosh, I am so sorry" (y/n) tried to get up seeing as she had made herself too comfortable.

"no, no, no" Kaneki stopped her "it's fine it's fine"

"I was rambling then got comfortable"

"I like it. It's adorable" (y/n) blushed settling back into the couch. The only person that enjoyed her rambling was Ayato. It was flattering to have someone else enjoy it.

"Did any of my theories come close" Kaneki chuckled "yes and no". "well are you going to tell me what I got right"

"Nope"

"tell me" (y/n) whined leaning against Kaneki "why"

"I want to know why you're here"

"why"

"..."

"Why do you want to know so badly that you're begging for it" the tension in the air got really but it wasn't scary tension but something else.

" I ... because. I want to know when you're going to leave" she pulled away and looked down. She hated to have to say it but she had developed a small crush on Kaneki in his time being here. She liked him since the day they kidnapped him. That was fun.

Kaneki leaned in a little closer setting her coffee cup elsewhere. "why do you want to know that?"

"I... I don't want you to leave" Kaneki wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her into his lap.

"and why is that, (y/n), why don't you want me to leave?" oh this boy was playing dirty like the devil.

"I enjoy you're Company and I like you and - I just want you to stay. Who will I have to talk about books when you're gone?"

-

"Don't you have Ayato?" Kaneki asked as his lips ghost across her skin. She shivered. "I'm sure he'll be happy to listen to you" he kissed and sucked on her neck as she whimpered and whined under him.

"Ayato, h-he doesn't really listen. I- I aaahhhhhh" (y/n) moaned as Kaneki's hand moved up and grasped her breast through her shirt. Kaneki leaned back (y/n) still in his lap and put his arms behind his head.

"You want me to stay then make me stay. Show me you want me to stay."

(y/n) slid off of Kaneki's lap and got on her knees in front of him. She made direct eye connect with him as she unbuckled his pants and pulled out his cock. (y/n) leaned forward still making eye connect with she kissed the tip of his cock. "you're going to need to do more than that if you want me to stay"

Licking for the base to the tip (y/n) took all of Kaneki's cock in her mouth in one got quickly hitting the back of her throat. She had most defiantly done this before. Kaneki groaned but kept his hands behind his head as (y/n) sucked and bobbed up and down on his cock. He continued to hit the back of her throat as her hands massaged his balls.

"Fuck. I'm not going to last long with you doing all that. As good as the view it I'd like to finish elsewhere." Pulling her back Kaneki stood her up and helped her pull off her dress and panties, thank god she when braless today. Pulling her back down into his lap Kaneki hand found it's between her legs feeling how wet she was. "looks like you enjoyed that as much as me"

(y/n) moaned as his hands spread her folds and slipped inside of her. She leaned forward gripping his shoulders as he pumped his two fingers inside of her and had his thumb working her clit. She moaned as she clawed at his chest.

"yes, yes, yes"

Kaneki fingered her until she was brought to the edge clenching around his fingers then he pulled away. (y/n) whimpered as she felt the emptiness. "don't worry I'm giving you something bigger". And in one swift move, Kaneki thirsted up into her.

(y/n) screamed and fell on to him as he filled her in one go. He didn't stop to let her adjust but continued to pound into her. It took a moment but soon the  pain became pleasure and (y/n) moaned as Kaneki thrust into her. Arching her back massaging her breast with one hand and her clit with the other.

"I'm I'm so close... please, please, please"

Kaneki speeds up as he gripped her hips tighter and pounded into her harder. (y/n) screamed as she came clenching around Kaneki triggering his end. Feeling Kaneki fill her made her moan and almost come a second time.

Kaneki twisted them so they were laying down on the couch. (y/n) whimpered as Kaneki gripped her ass and lifted her so that he would slip out of her.

-

Kaneki drew soft circles on (y/n) back as she laid on his chest listening to his heartbeat it was like a loud yet low drum. It was something she'd never get used to, but like to hear.

"Touka," Kaneki said. (y/n) looked up yo see Kaneki looking at the ceiling " I'm here for Touka ... and everyone else at the Café. I want to get strong and better so I can help and protect them. So nothing will ever happen to them. I'm not here for beliefs I'm here for strength".(y/n) sat up

"you could've just told me that we didn't have to do ... this" she waved around to her clothes on the floor and her naked body. Kaneki managed to stay dress the whole time.

"To be honest I was bored" Kaneki chuckled (y/n) scoffed "well I'm glad I could entertain you".

Getting up (y/n) dressed herself leaving Kaneki she heads to her and Ayato's room.

Entering the room she found Ayato in his bed and collapsed on him. Her head on his chest listening to his heartbeat it was nice and soft like a piano. It was something she was already so too and couldn't go a day without hearing.

"did you get your answers" he had one hand on a book and the other combing through her hair. "Touka... and strength. But mainly Touka" he threw his book

"Thought so"

Ayato pulled her closer and kissed her forehead. As he rubbed her thigh he felt a wetness "something tells me you two did more that talked" he said as his hands dipped down into her folds. Shit, she knew she forgot something.

"yeah" (y/n) sighed "He wouldn't tell me at first. Plus he was bored. He wants Touka not me, it was just a waste of fucking time. and he didn't even last that long"

Ayato laughed as he pulled her closer and kissed her cheeks." That's okay I want you. You're my slut best friend."

"who are you calling a slut" (y/n) said sitting up and straddling Ayato

"you, the girl who left then waltzed back in 30 minutes later with no underwear and cum dripping out of her. You are literally dripping ."

(Y/n) pulled up her dress to reveal her clean shaven pussy that was indeed dripping. This was no the first time he had seen her naked nor the last. Ayato laughed. (y/n)pulled her dress down looked directly into his eyes and said

"shut up"

#tokyo ghoul #tokyo ghoul fanfiction #fanfiction #ken keneki #ken kenki x reader #ayato #ayato x reader #smut #tokyo ghoul smut

[rogue-durin-16]

LIFE-SAVING SHARPIE

Summary: Despite being a muggle, Y/n's mother was an expert in divination. She tried to teach Y/n, who saw it as a mere muggle game. But, oh, what a powerful weapon a muggle game can become in the hands of the right witch.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader

Genre: angst (w/ a good ending)

Tags:

Fred Weasley: @whiskeyn-rain @lumos-solemn

Permanent taglist: @elia-the-bibliophile @randomparanoid @karlthecat15722 @thebutchersdaughtersblog

Warnings: injuries, death(ish)

A/N: I'm not saying I'm incapable of writing an angsty ending for a Fred Weasley story, but I'd rather not do that, so here comes a stupid story that occurred to me this morning, enjoy <3

Rogue-durin-16 masterlist

"Y/l/n!" I sighed. "Is it true?"

"Your mom is into divination?" George question made me throw my head back in desperation as both twins made their way through the Great Hall to meet me.

I knew that day would be a bumpy one the moment we entered in the Divination classroom. The fact that a muggleborn aced a new subject since class one was strange.

I knew I would have to give some explanation to my friends after. Ron was particularly shocked by the fact that my muggle mother had taught me —against my will, may I say— lots of Divination-related things. I knew Ron, being Ron, would surely tell every soul that would listen about his discovery, but I had hoped for him to wait until the third period at least.

"Secrets spread like wildfire here." I said.

"Are you secretly a soothsayer?"

"Yes, Fred. You see, I have the Sight." I ironically stated, and, seeing this as a perfect opportunity to get closer to the boy I fancied, I added "Want me to read your palm?"

They shared an amused look, fully aware that I was joking. Even in the Wizarding World, divination wasn't something to believe in.

There were supposed to be people able to see the future, such as professor Trelawney, but no student had seen her predict a thing, so she wasn't the best example.

George was the first one to sit down. "Predict my future, oh, you who were gifted with the Sight." I snorted as he laid his palm before my eyes.

I picked his hand on mines, "Hmm..." Fred hovering over my form from behind wasn't ideal for me to concentrate. "Okay so..." I felt one of his hands toying with the clasp of my necklace, brushing my nape. "Will you stop touching my necklace and sit down?" I demanded.

"Yeah Fred, sit down." George reprimanded his brother. "She's trying to see my future." I heard Fred chuntering before he plopped down on my other side, leaning on a tad too close for my liking. "Alright, fortuneteller, is there a love line?"

Of course he would ask about that. "Let's see..." I traced said line, unable to remember to the T what my mom had tried to teach me. "So, the heart line is arched... Which means..."

"That you can't tell a thing?" I slapped Fred's arm.

"Which means he's balanced." I corrected him. "You're able to realize when you need to take care of yourself, and when you should let a someone in." George seemed invested. "You'll have just one serious partner, but they'll be the right one."

"Well, that doesn't sound half bad, huh?" He looked at me with a content smile.

"My turn." Fred spoke, smacking his brother's hand away and replacing it with his left one. "The line of life or whatever." He scooted a bit closer and I felt my heartbeat pick up. "What's my fate?"

"Are you left-handed, Fred?" I questioned with an eyebrow raised, already knowing the answer. "I need your dominant hand." Oh well, that came out wrong.

"Straightforward, are we?" George snorted at his brother's remark as he exchanged hands, turning to straddle the bench to be more comfortable. "Alright, what do you see?" He had leaned on to the point where he only needed to tilt his head down a couple of inches to rest it on my shoulder.

"A hand." I deadpanned, which earned a playful push from him. "Okay, okay— I see..." A puzzled frown took over my gaze. "Wait—" I turned to George. "gimme your hand."

"What?" Fred questioned, shifting his position ever so slightly.

"Uhm..." The frown grew bigger, and I had to remind myself what I was doing was a joke. "You... don't have a lifeline?" I dubiously informed. "I mean— it sorta... Starts? but then it fades away." I widened my eyes and froze, remembering what that meant.

I saw Fred tilting his head slightly. "Is it so bad that you won't tell me what it means?" He asked jokingly in order to lighten my distraught mood.

"It— well, it means that you'll die at a young age." My eyes met his and, despite the amused smile that always danced on his lips, fear slipped out of his orbs now, too.

"Wait what?" George propped himself on his forearms to see his brother's palm. "Can't be. Check mine?"

"I just did, you git." George wasn't even smiling. Maybe he did believe it. "Yours is fine."

The three of us stayed in silence for an instant. Even if none of us believed in divination, the fact that Fred had no lifeline was rather unsettling.

"It's fine." I cleared my throat, turning to my bag and leaving Fred's hand over the table on the process. "Apart from seeing the future, I can fix lifelines." They looked at each other when they saw me grab a sharpie. "Don't move." I demanded, holding down Fred's right hand before tracing a black line where the lifeline was supposed to be. "There. A long, healthy life."

When I looked back at the twins' faces, I saw them ready to laugh. Distress had already left them, and that helped my own evaporate.

"Merlin, Y/n!" Fred dramatically exclaimed. "You've just saved my life!"

"She sure did." George agreed, patting my back.

"Now go and tell Ron to shut up." I didn't want to imagine what would happen if people started to believe I could actually predict their future; the twins were sceptic and even they had somehow fallen for it.

I was so focused on George getting up that I didn't even notice Fred's hand flipping and wrapping around mine.

A soft kiss was placed on my cheek and I felt my face heating up even before meeting Fred's proud grin. "Figured I'd give my savior something in repay." His eyes seemed to flicker to my lips for a second; it's just my imagination, I thought, unaware of Fred's thumb caressing the back of my hand until he removed it in order to stand up.

Four Years Later

FRED'S P. O. V.

One second I was laughing at Percy's joke, and the next one everything was black; not only visually, everything was pitch black in every fucking sense.

I heard nothing, I couldn't touch anything, my voice was gone.

My mind was completely blank, until a thought slipped in my brain: 'you'll die at a young age'.

My head was spiralling now. I was dead. That's what death felt like? Nothing?

Y/n's words kept going on and on, frying my brain. How ironic it was that the voice I would have forever in my mind belonged to the girl I had been in love with since I was fourteen, and the words were what we thought to be her silly prediction.

I had no idea how long it had been, but suddenly I felt it; a tear running down my cheek. A flaming hot tear, burning its way off my face. Then I felt something else, some sort of rope wrapping tight around my right hand and wrist, so tight that it made my pulse speed up.

My pulse.

It dawned on me that my heart was beating fast against my chest. It was beating.

I needed to breathe.

"FRED!" Someone forced my eyes open; It was Percy. I couldn't see him right away because the lights were blinding to my eyes, but I recognised his voice. "FRED SAY SOMETHING!"

"Y/n..." I couldn't hear my own voice, but I felt her name going through my vocal cords.

"HE'S ALIVE!" Ron cried. "you're alive-" my sight was blurry but I could pick out my younger brother's crown in front of me as he sobbed over my chest.

"We gotta get him out of here right now!!" Of course it was Hermione who got everyone moving. As both my brothers managed to pick me up, I felt my eyes closing once more. Not even the fear of not waking up again stopped me from passing out.

READER'S P. O. V.

I had volunteered as Healer to help Madam Pomfrey during the Battle, that's why it was me who received two Weasleys practically dragging a third one into the improvised infirmary.

I recognised him from his jacket. "Fred..." At first I thought it was his corpse, that's how bad he looked.

"Y/N!!" It was only when Fred seemed to tilt his head up due to Ron's cry that I reacted, rushing to help them. "Keep him alive!" I only nodded, taking Ron's place as he took off.

With one of his arms over my shoulders and the other over his brother's, we managed to carry him to one of the stretchers; his painful weak groans went directly into my ear as we moved him, triggering the tears I was holding to fall.

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

FRED'S P. O. V.

"—alive, somehow." Y/n's voice, though it sounded far away, let me know she was close. "No, don't wake him up."

"Listen, you gotta get him to St. Mungo." It seemed George the one talking, but his voice was too shaky to tell. "in an hour this is gonna get really ugly, I want him out."

"George, we're besieged." Her tone was hopeless.

"Look at him, You said it— It's a bloody miracle he's still breathing." my brother's voice shattered; all I wanted was to get up, hug him and say I was okay, but I felt my brain spinning once more. "Bill and I will escort you out of the castle so..."

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

The next time I opened my eyes, terror inundated me; everything was dark again. I gasped for air and propped myself up, instantly regretting it. A stabbing pain attacked every part of my body, triggering a shocked cry out of me.

"What are you doing?!" Y/n whisper-shouted, before placing both her hands over my chest to push me back to the bed again. "Are you mental?" Her fingertips moved out of the way a bandage that covered my eyes. "Oi, listen," when she noticed my shaky hands desperately trying to reach my face, she took them in hers. "You're safe."

I tried to say something —anything—, but my throat was sore, and the only thing that was able to leave it was her name.

"Shhh." She hushed me, letting one of her hands travel to my face. "You have to rest." I would have sworn she was crying, but I couldn't tell. "Everything'll get better." Her thumb stroking my cheek was the most soothing thing I had ever felt, so it wasn't difficult for me to close my eyes, this time willingly, though I was equally scared. "I'll stay by your side." The reassuring squeeze her hand gave me, made me aware that she had noticed my fear.

Before drifting off, I felt Y/n's lips placing a chaste kiss on my forehead, making my heart hammer against my chest.

I was still alive.

A Month Later

READER'S P. O. V.

It was Ron who sent me an owl the moment Fred finally got out of the hospital. He informed me that, instead of going to the Burrow to rest a few days—as planned—, ha had gone straight to the shop.

That's how I found myself the next morning inside Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, which was not-so-surprisingly full of people again.

Due to the huge amount of customers, it was relatively difficult for me to spot the twins.

Apparently, I turned out to be easy to spot.

"Y/n!" I turned in the stairs' direction to be met with a very enthusiastic George who, before I could even greet him, engulfed me in a hug.

"I see you can't catch a break." I observed, pulling away with a big smile on my face. That place really made the trick to bring joy to everyone.

"You can't imagine." He replied, his gaze wandering around before pulling my hand. "Oi, Fred! Look who dropped by!" He shouted over the hubbub, leading me to the till counter, behind which I saw the reason why I had come in the first place.

Just as Fred's eyes noticed me, he attempted to rush out of the till. I left George's side as soon as I realized that he, in fact, couldn't really rush out.

"Merlin's beard!" Despite he had just had to grip the counter in order not to fall, he tried again. "Take it easy, will you?" I scolded him, steadying him by his forearms and helping him step back to rest against the till. "Do you want to go back to the hospital?"

"If you're the one taking care of me, I wouldn't complain." The first time his eyes fell on my lips, I missed it because I was still securing him. The second time it was impossible to miss. "You know? Your sharpie saved my life."

I snorted at his nonsensical words. "You're delirious, Weasley." My hands finally left his forearms, just to be picked up on his. "Still suffering from the concussion?" I joked, trying to deviate my own attention from my fast heartbeat.

Another glance at my lips.

"I should get going." George spoke behind me.

"I was going to visit you tomorrow." Fred stated, his gaze now focused on my eyes.

"Sorry to break it to you, love," I pointed out, motioning at him with our hands still held. "But you can barely walk."

"Yeah, but I needed to see you." He looked somehow sheepish; I doubted I had ever seen him like that before. "I'm gonna be as clear and concise as possible—" He cleared his throat and forced himself to look at me. "I'm pretty much in love with you." I didn't know my eye could go as wide as they went. "Thing's I've known for a good couple of years now." He shrugged. "Telling you scared me, but then this happened." He gestured at himself. "And now not being able to tell you scares me even more." His eyes scanned me before looking around. "This wasn't the ideal place to tell you, but I didn't want to wait any longer."

I gulped, trying to process it as fast as possible.

"For Godric's sake, Y/n," he gently tugged my hand. "Say something, please." Fear started to take over him, even if he tried to keep it at bay. "It's alright if you don't feel the same, we can still be friends, I promise—"

"How do I kiss you without hurting you?" I questioned, already feeling the heat on my cheeks.

I could tell by his face that, out of everything I could have said, he was not expecting the answer I had given him. "Ever the caring one." He let go of my hands to cup my cheeks. "Just kiss me," he sounded so happy, it was contagious. "I'll deal with the pain later."

I listened to him and, holding onto his blazer, stood on my tiptoes and crashed my lips against his— only because I had been wanting to kiss him for too fucking long.

I got lost in the kiss and my brain completely dismissed that an entire wall had collapsed over the boy before me just a month ago; my hands went up to his neck, pulling him closer and, consequently, earning a painful groan from him.

"Shit! sorry." I was quick to let go, suddenly very aware of our surroundings, too.

He just shook his head and pulled my back to him, this time by my hips. "I said I'll deal with it later." He spoke against my lips before going in for a second kiss.

I was more gentle now, careful not to cause him too much pain.

To our dismay, we were interrupted.

"You said love confession!" George snapped us out of it; this time the groan Fred let out was from annoyance. "not snogging session in front of our customers! Get to work!"

He huffed, unwillingly separating from me. "If you stick around until lunch time, we can resume this."

I pretended to think about it. "I guess I can find something to do until then." My smile was as wide as his, and it grew wider when he pulled my into a hug, placing a kiss on the crown of my head. "I love you too, by the way."

His laugh reverberated on his chest. "Good to know."

"Freddie! Now!" This time it was me who groaned at George's demands.

"Help me out, love." Fred requested, pulling away from me so I could help him move behind the till counter. "See you in a couple of hours?" I nodded, pecking his cheeks and walking away from the shop.

It was when I started to walk down the Diagon Alley that it clicked.

His lifeline.

The sharpie.

"OH MY FUCK—"

#fred weasley imagine #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x y/n #fred weasley x slytherin!reader #fred weasley #fred weasley x hufflepuff!reader #fred x you #fred x slytherin reader #fred x y/n #fred lives au #fred weasly x reader #harry potter fanfiction #fred weasley fanfics #fred weasley fluff #harry potter #battle of hogwarts

[revirushifaa]

Feeling so bad for my poor cousin who just got slapped in the face by her awful dad, so in her honor I'm writing these headcanons(She's the one who got me into Obey Me, she deserves these)

The brothers react to MC being slapped in the face by another demon that's not them:

Lucifer and MC:

-The moment he hears hiccups and faint whimpers near, he's already sprinting to MC, he holds their shoulder. The slap mark on their face is enough to put him in seething rage.

"Tell me names, MC. Who did this to you?"

"A-another demon..."

-He's ready to shred some demon to pieces. But first he comforts MC, wetting his hand in cold water and gently laying there on their stinging cheek.

"You will be fine, the pain will go away. And I promise you, I will make this demon pay for their life."

-His soothing voice is on the spot, he wants to soothe them as much as he can before he goes to teach a nasty lesson to the demon who dared hurt them.

-He gets with the demon, and beats them to a bloody pulp until they're begging miserably and crying.

"Touch them again, and next time your intestines will be pulled out along with your heart."

Mammon and MC:

-Ohhhh, why's MC sobbing that way and coming to him?? He feels the urge to destroy someone if they made cry like that!

"Oi, what's the matter-WHO IN THE HELL SLAPPED YA?!!"

"A-another demon..."

-Mammon cares for MC's injury, and peppers them in care, reassuring them that he's gonna make a baby bawl their eyes out.

"Rest assured, MC. No one else will hurt ya. THE Mammon will protect ya from those pieces of guts!!"

-No sooner said than done, Mammon goes to face the demon and he's quickly beating them and causing them great harm, while screaming and saying all sorts of impurities.

"CURSE YA TO HELL, YA HURT MC AND YA DIE!!!"

Leviathan and MC:

-Playing games as the shut-in that he is, when he hears a bawl.

"L-Levi!!"

-Oh no. He abandons immediately the game and rushes over, opening his door to see MC holding their cheek and in tears.

"W-who made y-you this, MC?? T-tell me... oh dear, c-come in."

-Shyly he gently pulls them inside and closes the door. After he listens the truth he's definitely upset.

"There, there, it's gonna be alright, I've got you. This won't go unpunished."

-He cares for that stinging cheek and gives MC all the attention that they need, watches an anime of their choice to comfort them fully.

-Once the comes, he goes and makes the demon think this twice.

"I may be a shut-in, but I am not afraid to knock your brains out. This for slapping MC!"

-He makes them regret it and doesn't stop, not even when he has them K.O.

Satan and MC:

-Reading peaceful time, the Avatar of Wrath is reading about new cats breeds, when MC sniffs as they walk past the reading demon.

"Hold on there, MC. Why the tears?"

-He frowns deeply when he sees the slap mark on their cheek.

"Who in blazes did this to you? I am killing them."

-He goes full attentive mode and begins treating the red sore cheek with all the care that he can give, wipes away MC's tears and comforts them in his own way, before he goes to kill some demon.

-Finds them and immediately grabs them by the neck, choking them, without stopping.

"Prepare for hell hours, scum. If you will punch MC in their face, then you have a death wish."

-He does this until he knocks them out, and throws them on the ground, kicking their ribs, cracking all of them.

Asmodeus and MC:

-His beauty session is already taking place, his working on that new coconut milk body wash cream that he had gotten.

"A-Asmo..."

"Hm... yeah, MC-MC, dear, what happened to your cheek?! A sunburn?!"

-After he's explained that it's a slap and not a sunburn, he hisses and shakes his head. Goes to make the sting go away and rubs their face softly and with love,

"MC, dear, I am gonna go have a firm talk with this demon, okay? You can stay here."

-He finds the ruffian and goes to them, pushing them against a wall, he has a rather creepy smile on.

"Well, well, what do we have here? The one who hurt my dearest MC? Oh not can do, I am teaching you a lesson, prepare yourself."

-His done drastically changes to a cold tone. And soon screams of a demon are heard all around the Devildom. No one should make the Avatar of Lust mad. Or better: Never hurt his dear.

Beelzebub and MC:

-Munch, munch, munch. Oh food is so delicious. The sweet glutton is having another big meal and enjoying it all, but he can't help feeling worried for MC when they entered the room.

"H-hi, Beel."

-They greet him and their voice sound teary, another reason for getting worried. He sees them holding their cheek.

"What's wrong, MC? Did you fall down on your cheek?"

"N-no... a demon slap me...."

-Time and space just stopped there. Beel gets increadibly mad and he slams his hand on the table.

"How dare them. I am frying them in a cauldron of devilish oil!!"

-He gets down from his chair and immediately cuddles MC, showing them tender love. To soothe them, if that demon out there thought they could get away with hurting MC, well, they're so wrong, they now have a glutton demon after their head.

"It's alright MC, eat something. I'm going to hunt down the prey for you."

-He slams the demon the second he finds them on to the ground and stomps onto their stomach, slapping their face once, twice... countless times until it gets pretty red.

"You hurt them, prepare to feel everything back at you the triple."

-Doesn't stop at all, he hears their pathetic and helpless cries of mercy, but he gives them now. He has a good strength, so all that will hurt so much for days.

#obey me imagines #obey me #obey me shall we date #headcanons #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #not belphie included

[all-you-need-is-paul-mccartney]

The Couple Next Door IX (Roger Taylor x Female!Reader)

Find Part Eight Here

A/N: Surprise! I’m briefly back from a year-long Hiatus and I have one chapter for TCND, one for ATU AND a George Harrison one-shot I’m just gonna drop and then probably disappear again for another few months. I’m also finding it even more difficult to write for Roger seeing as I’ve kinda been listening to nothing but The Beatles for the last fifteen months and I really only hear Queen at work, so that’s gotta change. But I am very sorry about the LONG wait. I really do appreciate you guys, and I think you’ve all waited quite long enough to find out what happens next...

Summary: Roger and Y/N spend the morning taking care of Bobby; they talk a little more about the future and come to the conclusion they both want the same thing.

(Let your imagination run free, bc this can be either Canon or Borhap!Roger)

WARNINGS: Swearing is probably a given at this point, self-doubt, mentions/ suggestions of sex (advise you to avoid if you’re under 18), and I usually revise when I’m stoned so there’s probably some typos in here too, sorry.

Rated T for Teen-- (I feel like a video game rating smh)

Bobby was crying again.

Granted, it was about seven in the morning, and he did sleep for the rest of the night.

Roger was the last of the both of you to wake up; not because of the crying-- he didn't even hear the crying-- but he was wrapped up in the blankets with you, and you were trying to remove yourself from his grasp.

"Don't leave," Roger grumbled as he pulled you tightly against his chest, eyes remaining closed as you whispered back to him.

"But I have to go. Baby's cryin'."

Roger loosened his grip on you, much to his dismay, and you slipped from his embrace, leaving him cold, and alone.

"Come back, Baby..." He really hoped his gravelly plea would entice you to return from the nursery after tending to Bobby, and although you were probably against having sex in your friends' bed, he figured there was no harm in testing the waters.

"That's not how that works when you have a baby, Rog. The day starts now."

Roger groaned in protest, but as he rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands, he revealed to himself that you were no longer in the room, and the baby's cries settled when he heard your voice float down the hall from the nursery room.

Roger, as much as he didn't want to, tossed the comforter off of his body, and after rising to his feet and combing his fingers through his hair, he shuffled out of the bedroom and made a beeline to the stairs.

He was glad he was familiar with John's kitchen; because he was certain you had no idea where anything was, meaning he would be the one preparing breakfast that morning, and the one following it, most likely.

Fuck it, he would (try to) cook you up seven different meals a day if you asked him.

Anything for you.

He put the kettle on, and moved to the pantry in search for John's teabags, yawning lightly as he pulled the door open.

Nothing in the pantry really stuck out to him as being a good breakfast that morning, so Roger ended up migrating to the fridge after retrieving the tea, where his eyes fell on the carton of eggs on the bottom shelf.

He settled on making French Toast for breakfast seeing as he, according to you, made the best French Toast in England.

So he got to work whipping up some eggs and pulling four slices of bread from the bread box on the counter-- but not before he got one of Bobby's bottles out for you, warmed it, and placed it on the kitchen table.

Roger was frying the French Toast in no time, and he hummed gently as he busied himself with focusing on the now whistling kettle, and when the right time to flip the toast would be.

"... I thought you were still in bed," your words were sudden, and it made Roger jump a little. But when he realized it was only you, Bobby in your arms, his mouth contorted into a dopey smile.

"Nah," Roger turned the pan's burner down a little, and after he flipped the French Toast, he set his spatula on the counter, turning to face you.

"I was gonna let you sleep in, since you were so reluctant on waking up," you explained with a yawn. "But here you are awake, and making breakfast before me."

"Well it wouldn't be fair then, would it? Me sleeping in while you've all this work to do?"

"I don't know, would it?"

"I really don't think so, Dove."

He felt pride swell in his chest when pink dusted your cheeks at the sound of your new nickname, and he took this chance to swoon you further by pulling you in gently by the elbows, and he enveloped both you and Bobby in his embrace.

"Beautiful..." Roger's voice was barely a whisper as he touched his lips to your jawline, and you responded with a soft exhale.

"Even when you've just woken up," Roger mumbled against the skin of your neck, lips curling into a smile, "you are the prettiest goddamned thing I've ever laid eyes on."

"Mmm, down, boy," you purred back jokingly, taking a small step back. "Baby still needs to eat."

"Well yours is coming right up," he teased, "and Bobby's is already at the table." Roger pointed to the bottle on the other side of the room before tapping your rear. "Take a seat, and I'll bring your food over."

You didn't have to be told twice. You took a seat at the table, and although Bobby was growing a little agitated, it was short lived when you put the bottle of milk in his possession.

Roger, not five minutes after you sat down, joined you at the table with your French Toast and your mug of tea, made just the way you liked it, of course.

"'S the right tea, yeah?"

You took a quick look at the label hanging from the mug.

"Yep." Your eyes squinted after letting the label fall where the string tied to it would let it. "Y'know, you've been making my tea right for months, you don't have to check to make sure you're right."

"You know I'm always gonna make sure it's to your liking."

"And I love you for it."

"Hopefully for other things too. I'm not just good at being your barista."

"Oh, don't you worry. I'm not overlooking your other good traits," you smiled as you brought your mug to your lips and having the first sip of tea of the day.

As Roger sat down next to you with his own plate of food and mug of tea, he decided to wait on Bobby to finish so he could eat with you.

So, naturally, he took the time to evaluate again what kind of situation he was in.

There was nothing like watching you care for Bobby. Roger had known you for years, and not once in his life did he ever think he would be sitting next to you at breakfast while feeding a baby, whether or not the child was his own, or yours.

The whole scene looked too good to be true, though like the previous night, Roger just drank in the sight of you putting all your love and care into a child at breakfast with him.

How did you think you weren't cut out for being a mother?

This was in your nature.

The domesticity of the situation made Roger a little emotional. This was the closest he'd ever gotten to experiencing a breakfast with a family he'd built, and he spent every passing second filling his mind and heart with the beautiful sight before him.

"Y/n, you would make a wonderful mother." Roger's words left his mouth faster than his brain could register what he'd said.

You looked to Roger from Bobby, cheeks and tips of your ears darkening, and Roger was talking again before he could realize it and catch himself.

"Any man would be so damn lucky to have you. I honestly can't believe you stick around me still."

Your face was feeling real hot, now. Roger's head was still lagging behind his words, and clearly, he wasn't done talking.

"You could be out building a beautiful family right now, but instead you're babysitting with your best friend who you also occasionally sleep with. I just... I don't understand."

It took you a second to respond, but Roger didn't blame you. Honestly, he didn't even know what he would have said if he were asked the same question.

"... Well, I love you, Roger."

Your words were simple, and Roger knew your statement was nothing but platonic, but that didn't stop his heart from pounding against his ribcage.

You'd said those exact three words to him minutes earlier, but the context of the conversations contrasted their meanings.

"But we promised each other at the beginning of all of this that we'd be fine giving up pursuing family life if that means living with one another..."

"... You sound unsure, now."

The atmosphere felt heavy, and it was almost as if Bobby had known making noise wasn't in his best interest. He decided to finish eating at the right time.

"... It's not that I'm unsure. It's just..."

Roger waited patiently for you to answer, but you had noticed Bobby finished his milk, and you took the bottle from him.

You burped him, and placed a pacifier you pulled from your pocket in Bobby's mouth. You must have gotten it from upstairs before you came down.

"Let me," Roger offered his arms out for the baby, and you let him take Bobby. You'd stood up and moved to the sink to wash the bottle.

Meanwhile, Roger, who'd also gotten to his feet, was slowly walking around the kitchen. He was praising Bobby for finishing all his breakfast, insisting he was so proud of him, his smile wide and gaze adoring as he evaluated the child in his arms.

"It's just that. There. The way you're behaving with him," you turn to face Roger, finger pointed at him. "The way you're treating him as your own."

Roger's mouth opened and closed a few times, but after shutting his jaw for the third time, he decided the best thing to do in this situation would be to keep quiet.

"You'd make the most wonderful father, Roger. The way you behave with Bobby, god, the way you behaved with Raymond the other day," you sounded frustrated, and all Roger could do was watch you pace the kitchen, his sheepish face now a deep red.

"It's just that I would want the father of my kids to be just like you. I wouldn't settle for anything less."

Roger opened his mouth again to speak. He felt like his chest was on fire. Your thoughts were becoming painstakingly parallel to his, Roger had noticed. He couldn't get any words out before you started speaking again.

"Like you said last night, this job is giving us a chance to experience what it'd be like to have a family... and maybe I'm upset I did throw the chance to have all of that away."

You looked like you were on the verge of tears, and all Roger could do was watch you and listen to what you had to say.

"Roger, I hope you know you will always have a special place in my heart. You're my family, you have been for the last five years of my life, and there's no doubt about it. But being able to have a child..."

Your hands ghosted over the robe's fabric covering your definitely unpregnant belly. "... I think I want to have children."

"... Y/n I hope you know I feel exactly the same way."

And then everything was clear.

Roger understood where his band was coming from.

Getting married to you would solve all your problems.

He knew what the both of you were thinking in this new moment of silence, but there was absolutely no way Roger was going to fall to one knee and propose to you right now when he wasn't even romantically involved with you.

And he just felt it would be very inappropriate if he took this moment to spontaneously ask you on a romantic date with the intentions of courting you.

"Listen, Y/n," Roger finally built up enough courage to break the silence. Bobby cut him off with a short cry, and Roger immediately started swaying the baby in his arms. Sure enough, Bobby's agitation ceased, and Roger could continue, keeping the movement going.

"Just because we're living together without families now doesn't mean we won't be able to have families, say, five to ten years down the road."

At this point, although it was necessary, Roger didn't really want to mention the discomfort he felt when imagining you falling for someone who wasn't him.

Your eyes were big and sad, lip pouted as you considered Roger's words. "... are you sure?"

The idea of you and him having to move out of the condo Roger risked the both of your love lives for didn't sit well with him.

You'd be gone making sweet love to some lucky asshole who probably didn't deserve to be in your presence, while Roger goes on a bender, gets ahold of some weed and coke, and sleeps with enough girls to distract him from realizing he'd thrown the best thing in his life away-- you.

He didn't want you to think he thought you were selfish. The last thing he needed right now was to feel guilty for making you feel guilty.

So he just nodded. "No house isn't forever anyways." When you didn't respond to his little joke, he sighed.

"Y/n, we're still so young. You don't have to commit yourself to anything like that just yet. Enjoy being able to go out drinking with me every weekend, and sleeping in on our days off. Your chance to start a family will come when the time is right."

You let out a shaky breath. Roger was actually a little surprised with how well you were keeping yourself together.

But his actions put the both of you here, and to see that this conversation nearly reduced you to tears had Roger drowning in guilt, even without the help of mentioning any of his inner conflict to you.

"I just hope you're right." Your voice was broken and your fingers were tangled stressfully in your hair.

"Hey," Roger's voice had gone soft again, his rocking slowing to a halt, and you looked up to find him with an open arm, awaiting your touch.

You slowly unravelled your fingers from your hair, and you gave into the hug not moments later. Roger pulled you to his chest tightly, his free arm occupied by the baby.

"Y'know... I made you French Toast to start the day off good." When you didn't say anything in response, Roger pulled away from you just enough to look you in the face.

He was giving you that same look he did at the Garrison's again; that unreadable gaze he'd achieved with those big blue eyes that seemingly bored holes into your very soul.

His free hand slipped up from your back to your neck, and he leaned in to just touch his lips to the corner of your mouth.

So close, yet so far away.

It wasn't before long that he pulled away from you, but Roger just couldn't keep his eyes off you.

"You come sit down and enjoy your French Toast, Dove. I've got Bobby."

"But--"

"Please?"

Roger knew he'd convinced you as soon as he said that magic word. Though you took a moment to look from the bundle in his arms to the breakfast you really were dying to dig into, you eventually sighed out a gentle "thank you," before taking your seat again at the table.

He came around and kissed the top of your head. "Enjoy, Honey." Roger took a seat next to you, Bobby still in his one arm, and the both of you ate your French Toast in relative silence for the first few seconds.

"... God, you really do make good French Toast, Blondie." Roger was smiling now. At least you were talking again.

"I only improved my cooking skills for you, y'know," he admitted with a mouthful of his food, though he didn't sound ashamed of it.

"And thank God for that. Cooking every other night sure beats cooking every night."

"You can say that again," Roger mumbled before shoving the last of his breakfast into his mouth. You still slowly ate away at your meal, and Roger was making funny faces at Bobby in between taking sips of his tea.

The telephone in the living room started ringing, and you stood up to go get it, but Roger immediately dropped his fork and grabbed your wrist.

"Nuh-uh. I just finished eating. You still have a little bit to go. Take Bobby and I'll get it." You scooped the baby up without another word, smiling when he opened his eyes.

"Can you at least bring back his rattle from his play pen?"

"Can do, Princess," he called over his shoulder as he approached the phone.

"H'lo?"

"Roger?"

"Oh, hey, John!" Roger tucked the phone's handset under his chin, carrying the telephone in his left hand so he could get Bobby's rattle.

"Isn't it a little early to be up?" Roger glanced at the clock, which read that it was quarter after seven.

"Biological clocks. Just wanting to checking in. Is Bobby okay? Has he been any trouble?"

"No, of course not! He's doing fine, John." Roger tucked the rattle in his back pocket when he found it, and returned to the writing desk where the phone was meant to stay.

That was something he loved about you. You always bought him pyjamas with pockets. The concept was cool, and being able to use them was even cooler.

"Y/n's got him in the kitchen right now," he explained, taking the handset again with his now free hand. "We're all just finishing up breakfast, actually."

"Oh good. How is she?" John paused for a second, his voice dropping a little lower. "... How are you guys?"

Roger made sure his voice was a little quiet, as well. "John, this may have been your guys' best idea ever. I don't know why I was against this in the beginning."

"Really?! What's happened already?!" John, everyone would have guessed to be one to avoid certain kinds of gossip, though when it came to Roger's business with you, he liked checking up on that.

"I told her about all that family stuff."

"And?"

"And, well..." Roger set the phone back onto the desk and scratched the back of his neck. "... She may or may not be having the same problem," he mumbled.

"So... so you both want a family?" John tried clarifying.

"Yes."

"Then why are you two not together?!" Roger slipped away around the corner into the main hall with just the receiver so he was a little further away from the kitchen. He didn't want you hearing their conversation, or John through the receiver.

"Well I'm not asking her here!"

"Then where? And when?"

Roger knew John was just getting excited, and his questions honestly had Roger brainstorming every possibility when it came to asking you.

"... I don't know, yet," Roger said after a while of thinking. "But soon. God, it needs to be soon." He didn't quite know why he was pressuring himself to ask you sooner than later.

Maybe it was because he was scared someone much better and more deserving of you (or alternatively, a selfish prick) was going to waltz in and steal you from him just before he had you for sure.

"Do you need any help with that part? I can get Fred and Bri--"

"No no no, it's okay, John." Roger leaned up against the wall of the hallway, fingers tapping the handset absentmindedly with his eyes squeezed shut for a moment.

"You guys have already done enough, really. I... I think I'm good on my own from here."

"Well, I'm glad," John expressed to Roger. "It's not every day you need to help Roger Taylor get with a girl, y'know."

"This is different, and you know it."

"I just like to tease," John defended, and Roger could even hear a smile evident in his words.

"Anyways, Veronica and I will be home tomorrow around noon. Y/n's got our number. You two take care."

"Of course, you too," Roger was making his way back to the writing desk.

"Thanks. Oh, and Roger?" John added quickly.

"Hm?"

"If you two end up doing anything, for God's sake, please wash the sheets."

As John was speaking, you'd walked into the living room with Bobby in your arms. "We're gonna go and have some play time, now! Yes we are!"

Roger was too panicked by your presence to even realize you weren't paying any attention to the phone call, and he hoped to God you didn't hear a single thing John had said. "Yeah-yes! Laundry. Will do."

He nodded his head once, though John couldn't see him, and after saying their good byes, Roger hung up the phone.

He turned to where you were in the living room. You were looking in the play pen for something, and Roger suddenly remembered the rattle in his back pocket.

He pulled it out hurriedly and held it out to you. "Shit! I'm so sorry about that--"

"Don't swear, Roger," you took the rattle, a smile on your lips you both knew you were trying to frown away. "There's a baby here."

"What? He doesn't know what that word means."

"Well, the more you keep saying it, the more of a chance he has at that being his first word, and I do not need the Deacon Family hunting us down for teaching their kid swears." You looked from Roger down to Bobby, shaking the rattle gently and grinning when Bobby squealed happily and reached out for the toy.

You took a seat on the couch, and played around with Bobby while Roger went back to the kitchen to do the dishes.

From 7:30 AM to about 2:30, all that really happened was play-time and lunch, something Roger prepared. You offered to do the dishes, but Roger wouldn't allow it. He just suggested you put Bobby up for his nap. He'd fallen asleep in your arms during play-time, like he did with Roger the night before.

The both of you thought it was crazy Bobby would just fall asleep rather than cry, but honestly, neither of you were complaining. Quiet baby for the win!

Roger just finished putting the last plate on the drying rack on the counter as he listened above for your footsteps leaving Bobby's room. He dried his hands off with the dishtowel hanging over his shoulder after turning off the faucet.

From behind, Roger felt a pair of arms slowly circle his body, and he smiled warmly at the feeling of you pressed against his back.

"He asleep?"

"Mhm."

Roger's smile only widened as you inched your palms up his chest. He turned in your arms and pressed his hands against your hips, inching you closer as he leaned back against the kitchen sink.

"Well, what do we do, now?" Roger asked. He sounded like he was up to no good. With the sultry look in his eyes and the way the smile on his lips looked like he was repressing a naughty suggestion, he knew you knew he already had something on his mind.

"Well, I mean," your hands slipped up into Roger's long hair, fingers tangling themselves between the strands. "Anything, really."

You knew what game Roger was playing, and you loved how cute he was, thinking he was going to have you on your knees for him.

His eyes shamelessly raked over the top half of your body, and he squeezed his hands, still at your hips.

"What'll you be doing with your free time, Roger?" You took one more step closer to him, and he pulled you the rest of the way to him so your groin was flush with his.

"I'm looking right at her."

He was already strained against his jeans, and you just offered a smile, fingers tightening their grip in Roger's hair.

"Mmm... I kinda like the sound of that," you admitted lowly, half of a smile on your lips. You shifted your hips from side to side, and Roger tried to pull you even closer.

You rolled your hips against Roger again, and the cheekiness in his face fell with a look of long-awaited relief, and his head dropped to your shoulder.

One of his hands moved up to grab you by the back of your neck, and when he lifted his head to look at you again, his second hand dragged upwards from your hip to squeeze your waist.

Roger lifted the hand by your neck, and combed your hair back with his fingers. His eyes fell onto yours for a brief moment, and you could have sworn there was something he tried to tell you there.

You just couldn't read him.

But he didn't care. He pulled you in close again, and his lips were on yours.

You'd kissed Roger before. Not in public, but definitely in the bedroom. And they weren't very scarce. Honestly, if Roger's lips weren't somewhere else on your body, they'd be on yours.

But why was this feeling different from all the other times he'd kissed you?

He was being a lot less forceful and needy than he usually was.

His grip wasn't tight on you, and it wasn't like he was crushing you against him as if indicating he needed more of you, now.

He was holding you rather, and the hand at your waist circled around to press against your lower back. The hand on your neck shifted a little forward so Roger could gently slide the pad of his thumb down the column of your throat.

The both of you were holding your breath, and Roger was the first to pull away. The both of you sucked in some air, and before you could even draw in a full breath, Roger's lips were on yours again.

He pushed towards you, guiding you backwards until your back was flat against the refrigerator. His warm hands grabbed for yours and he pinned them above your head by your wrists.

Okay. This, was something you were used to. But there was nothing that could have prepared you for when Roger's hands loosened their grip on your wrists, and he was lacing his fingers between your own.

Your hands felt very small in Roger's. How had he never noticed that before? What else had he neglected to realize about you?

In that moment, he felt you pull away to breathe, and he looked down at you worriedly, fingers frozen, yet still laced with yours.

"I- uh... I-I'm sorry--"

"No no, don't be. It's okay," your response was very rushed, but you didn't skip a word.

There was about a minute of silence, your hot breaths mingling in the space between your lips, though your gazes were locked with one another, and you couldn't look away.

"Did-uh... did you want me to... to stop?" His question was gentle, almost sincere-sounding, but he still made no effort to move from his place.

"No. God, no." And as soon as you'd answered, Roger closed the space between the both of you again, his fingers unwound from yours to grab you by the jaw, and you just held his waist, pushing your body as close to him as he would let you.

He shifted around a little, and moved his leg between yours. You could feel his mouth bend into a smirk against yours, and he began to apply pressure to the apex of your legs with his knee.

Before long, as much as you wanted to resist it, you fell to Roger's submission, and as you waited for him to grab your waist and put you wherever, he hesitated for a second, and dropped his hands from yours.

You opened your eyes again to find Roger, face red, and staring at your chest. Not in an ogling way, but more of a method to avoid looking you in the eye.

He could tell you were looking at him, and he shifted his gaze to you. He itched at his hands awkwardly, mouth opening and closing as he tried to explain himself.

You just waited. You gave him time to think, and he had an answer for you sooner than either of you would have thought.

"I just... I wanna try something else. I don’t want to control you like I do every night."

It wasn't much of an explanation, but a good beginning to a demonstration.

"Will you come to bed with me, Y/n?" His offer was gentle, yet confident, despite offering a hand out hesitantly.

When you dropped your hand into his, all of the tension in Roger's being relaxed, and he quietly led you up the stairs, past the nursery, and into John and Veronica's room.

Before you could say anything he gently explained that he'd do laundry later, and then he pulled you in for another kiss he'd been waiting to give you since the last one.

Roger pulled you closer to him, hands cupping your face as his lips began to desperately chase after yours. You kissed Roger back with just as much vigor, but then he slowed the movements of his mouth, and guided you backwards until the back of your legs hit the edge of the bed.

Roger helped lower you down onto the bed, and he leaned over you, dipping down to kiss your lips again. He knelt between your legs, and pulled them up around his waist so he could lean in even closer.

You felt his hands squeeze your hips, and he pulled at your bottom lip with his teeth. You hummed lowly, your eyelashes kissing your cheeks as Roger pulled away ever so slightly-- just enough to pull his shirt off of him, and close the distance between your bodies again.

You tangled your hands into his hair, and he hummed in approval before pulling back just once more.

"I'm sure that's hardly fair..."

"What?"

"This," Roger tugged gently at the hem of your shirt.

"Why's yours still on?"

"... I never said it had to be."

Roger exhaled, and slowly pulled your shirt up over your head after you raised your arms to help him out a little.

He placed the palm of his hand over the smooth skin of your belly as he stared at your bare torso. And before long, he dipping down to kiss you again.

You reciprocated his actions, wrapping your arms around his neck and tightening your legs around his hips, to which he rocked himself against your core, and then---

Bam!

The headboard hit the wall, and Bobby woke up.

"Nooo..." you squeezed your eyes shut as the baby's cries began to reverberate down the hallway.

"Fuck!" Roger groaned, eyebrows knitted together helplessly as he climbed off of you. You both knew it was Roger who technically woke the baby up, and it was just silently agreed on that he went to put him back down.

"Dammit to hell, those separated headboards."

Roger opened the nursery door, and made his way to the crib in the corner of the room. Bobby's cheeks were wet with tears, and Roger's heart sank. "'M sorry, little guy. C'mere. Come see uncle Roger."

He picked the baby up and rocked him back and forth, though it wasn't exactly doing much, so Roger took a seat in the rocking chair on the opposite side of the room, swaying the both of them with a push of his feet.

Bobby's cries settled, and Roger felt proud of himself. Sure, he wanted to get back to what he was doing before, but instead he took his time in making sure Bobby was comfortable and not in need of anything before he drifted off to sleep again.

Bobby played around with Roger's fingers a few moments after his agitation ceased, and he couldn't believe how large his hands were in comparison to Bobby's. He was once that size.

A little while later Roger set Bobby down in his crib, and the infant was out. The drummer smiled at his accomplishment. He didn't even need your help.

With that, he left the room without a sound.

He stepped into John and Veronica's room, and closed the door quietly behind him. He was in the middle of turning on his heel when he stopped dead in his tracks.

You'd taken some of the pillows off the bed and wedged them between the wall and the headboard to keep the bed from making noise.

You were also splayed out on the bed in a lot less clothing than he remembered you in when he left.

With a teasing beckon from your finger, Roger knew three things were for certain.

1. You were the smartest woman he knew.

2. You were the most gorgeous woman he'd ever laid eyes on.

3. He, the Roger Taylor, had fallen madly, and helplessly in love with you.

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

A/A/N: Again, you’ve all been waiting long enough for the next chapter, so here you are. i hope you all enjoy, and if my response is great with this one, I’ll see if I can spit out another one soon <3

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[jjfics]

Room 19 ll 01

ship: Harry Potter x female!Reader

summary: Harry and the reader both work at the Ministry and are sent together on a mission. their feelings for each other start shifting as they arrive at the hotel.

author: Jane Jack aka your girl JJfics

word count: 2050

a/n: i usually like writing established relationships so this is something new to me but it is a trope i have always enjoyed so i hope you will too. i was on a phone call with my best friend while writing this and they said, and i quote, i dropped my french fry, on the couch

Dragging a suitcase full of clothes can be very exhausting when you are not allowed to do magic. While you could theoretically obliviate all the muggles that happen to see you two, it would be a waste of time. You and the oh-so-famous Harry James Potter were placed together for this mission by the Ministry of Magic, and so far it has been going great. If not talking to each other unless you had to is considered great.

You had expected him to be cockier and pretend to know everything. It’s what the Daily Prophet says anyway. But he has been very silent around you and even though you would never admit this to anyone, especially to him, you have been wondering if he is like this with everybody or if this is about you.

You were supposed to pretend to be a muggle couple who goes on vacation while investigating the activities of some suspicious wizards. Those wizards and witches you were assigned to keep an eye on live somewhere in the countryside of Scotland. No train and no bus could take you this far.

You were currently on a deserted road with Potter on your right checking a map as you did your best to not kick the suitcase that contained both of your clothes out of annoyance. You hated having agreed to take turns with it but at this point, you wanted to give up.

It has been an hour since you last turned left on this road. There was a village somewhere ahead but it seems so far away you might as well just sleep right here. Stargazing with Harry Potter did not sound like a bad story to tell your friends later, but you had to remind yourself how awkward that would turn soon as he refuses to talk to you at all.

“We should be there in about half an hour,” he said suddenly. Oh, so now he talked, good to know.

“Okay,” you sighed.

“What?” he looked up from the map in his hands to face you.

“I don’t even know… Can’t we take a break? We’ll get there eventually.”

“No, y/n. There is a perfect timing at which we have to be at the hotel. We have to arrive at the same time as the group. Is something you would have known if you actually read the instructions we were given before this trip,” he furrowed his brows and said with exasperation latched in his voice.

“You think you’re the only one who cares about this mission? Not everything is about you, Potter,” you said with a cold voice. Maybe he hasn’t been talking to you not because he doesn’t like you personally, which you would totally not even care about, never, but because he was too obsessed with himself to acknowledge anyone else.

“I never said everything is about me!” Harry shouted back at you. “I don’t even want it to be. But I do want this mission to go well, specifically.”

“Why?” you let the suitcase fall on the ground completely moved closer to him.

Potter looked over your head at the road, avoiding eye contact. “It doesn’t matter,” he said and he hated it because his voice sounded a bit unsure. “It doesn’t matter” he repeated.

You rolled your eyes and took a step even closer. “Then why do you care? I bet you didn’t even want to be placed with me, did you?” you shouted back with pain. “You think I’ll screw this up for you, don’t you, Potter?”

“No, y/n, God, just shut up!” he grabbed your arm and pulled you off the road. You were both so concentrated on getting the stress of the trip out on the other that you didn’t even hear a car coming down the street. Its speed slowed down as it approached you and the driver rolled down the window.

The man inside looked you up and down and then stuck out his hand. “Ben Nelson.” he introduced himself.

Potter shook his hand and gave him a small and awkward smile. “Harry Campbell,” he said. He nodded his head in your direction and added shortly “And y/n Campbell.”

The driver laughed stiffly and raised his eyebrows. “And what might you kids be doing here alone?”

“We were just trying to get to the village, not too far away from here,” Potter told him.

“Ah, that’s where I’m heading… yeah… well, come on, do you want me to help you put that trunk of yours in the back?” the man chuckled.

“What?” you asked, confused.

“Yeah, I’m taking you there, come on.” he took his seatbelt off, but Harry held his hand up.

“Thank you, sir. We can put the suitcase ourselves.”

“Okay, but hurry up you. I don’t have all the time in the world like you young ones.”

Potter smirked at you, and you tried to hide the way you blushed by bringing your hands up to your hair to tie it back before dragging the suitcase once more and closing the trunk loudly. You and Potter got in the backseat together, just to make it clear that you were a couple, you thought; he probably wouldn’t sit next to you otherwise.

“You two have been together for long?” Nelson asks.

You are still very mad at your partner, but you have to put on an act. You are not y/n y/ln anymore. Now you are y/n Campbell. “One year,” you falsely giggle. “But it has been the best year of my life” you put your arm on Potter’s thigh, and you could swear he stopped breathing for a second.

“My wife and I have been together for 30 years. Met her when I was young like you… Good times, good times.”

You got to the hotel way faster than you had assumed at first, making your argument from earlier look stupid now. You didn’t apologize though, and neither did he. As you entered the hotel you left Potter in the hall with the suitcase and handed him your ugly muggle coat (you missed your soft travel robes a lot) and headed to a toilet.

After fixing yourself in the mirror, trying to delay having to talk to him again, you finally exited the restroom and looked for him in the cold entrance hallway. There he was in a corner, with your coat over his shoulder and his arms crossed, making you wonder how even women’s clothing looked this good on him. He had a frustrated expression on his face as if something was bothering him a great deal.

“Where are my clothes?” you asked.

“Our clothes are in room 19. A kind person offered to take them there for us while I waited for you. Let’s go.” It didn’t make sense. What was his problem now? You arrived early; everything went as planned.

He walked in front of you through the large lobby of the hotel to the stairs like he knew the way already. The woman must have shown him where the room is. He didn’t stop until you reached the second floor. There were many tall brown doors down the hall but you kept passing them. The numbers on the wall next to them kept increasing until, at last, there was 19.

Potter reached in the pocket of his pants for a small golden key to open the door. Inside it smelled like old wood and fresh air. It was truly a beautiful room that reminded you a bit of your own at home. Everything had a nostalgic feeling to it that made you feel welcome. But there was one small thing you didn’t realize at first. One small problem.

There was only one bed.

A big bed with white sheets stood in the corner with your suitcase underneath. Your tired feet begged you to jump on it and immediately fall asleep, but your brain would not let you. Because Potter must have wanted to do the same, but none of you moved.

“I will sleep on the floor,” you said quickly.

“No, it’s okay. I’ll do it. You have to rest.”

“Listen, Potter, I know you want to be a gentleman for once, but I’m not that tired.” Lie. “You can take the bed."

“But you carried the suitcase; you deserve this more” he scratched the back of his head. Did he believe you to be weak?

“I will sleep on the floor” you hissed and walked over to the bed to take one of the pillows.

The watch on your hand told you it was 1 am when you woke up on the hard wooden floor. Your back and feet hurt like crazy and you regretted being the brave one more and more. All you wanted now was to lay on the soft bed next to Potter. His breathing was even as his chest rose and fell back slowly. His hair was messy, his lips parted as he slept. He looked peaceful like this, almost like someone you could suffer being around.

You didn’t bother to turn on the lights as you crossed the room to the bathroom. The moonlight which came through the window was enough to guide you.

You tried falling back asleep after, but woke up disappointed at 3 am again. You searched your entire memory for any Sleeping Spell but you couldn’t remember any. Perhaps Potter would not even know what had happened to you next morning when he couldn’t wake you up and worry.

You did not want him to be worried, ever, so you stopped trying. You sighed and looked over to the comfortable bed once again. He was still in the same position. Nothing was bothering his perfect sleep.

He would not mind, after all, would he? If you just got 3 hours of actual sleep and then moved back on the floor in the morning? He would not notice your presence. He did want you to take the bed, so why not do it?

You hugged your pillow close to your chest and watched him in case he woke up as you made your way next to him. Doing your best not to touch him you stood as far as possible on the bed. He rolled over and you could not tell if he was awake for his face was turned to the wall. Anxiety was flowing through your veins but only for a moment. Who cares if he woke up? He would say something if it really bothered him.

You fell asleep quite instantly. Even though it was more like a short nap it was the best sleep you had ever had in your life. So warm and comfortable. It was a refreshing dreamless night. You yawned softly before opening your eyes and you wanted to stretch your arms, but you found that you couldn’t. Something was restraining you.

And then you realized that it was a bit too sunny inside the room for it to only be 6 am as you had planned.

You opened your eyes slowly only to be met with Potter’s face very close to yours. His eyes were still closed and he looked very content with the position you two were in: cuddling with his hands around your waist and your head previously on his shoulder. You found yourself not wanting to move or disrupt him. You wanted to stay there forever. He was more than just sufferable like this.

But you did not want him to know about this, that is, if he still didn’t. So you attempted to get off the bed. It was almost painful, leaving him and the bed, but you had to get ready for the first part of the mission today. He smiled in his sleep as you sighed, wondering what he could have been dreaming about that made him happy.

He woke up 15 minutes later when you were already dressed. You made sure to return your pillow to the cold floor and hoped he didn’t realize what happened during the night. With the wands hidden in both of your coats you made your way to a cafe in the village for breakfast, where, according to the instructions from the Ministry, you should observe the group of wizards from afar.

#harry potter #hp #harry potter x reader #harry potter imagine #harry potter fanfiction #hp fanfic #hp fandom #hp imagine #hp fic #harry james potter #harry potter fandom #harry james potter x reader #harry potter golden era #harry x reader #harry fanfic #harry imagine

[aliwritesfic]

The Night Shift part 5 (F!Reader x Frankie Morales)

Quick summary: You learn the meaning behind Frankie's nickname

Warnings: None, I think, please let me know if I need to add some <3

W/C: 1.7k

Spotify (mainly just vibes, some songs have meaning, also updated regularly)

Part 1 Part 6

The smell of cooking bacon made your stomach growl as you entered the diner on Tuesday evening. You hadn’t eaten much all day, just a piece of toast and a handful of stale cheerios. Frankie was in the kitchen, his back to you. Your throat dried at the sight of him, remembering what you had done and how you had fantasized about him only a few hours earlier.

“Hi, Frankie,” you said, pushing thoughts of what you wanted him to do with his hands out of your mind. Stop being such a hornbag! You scolded yourself. Then he set those dark brown eyes on you and your brain ceased to function. Could he see your secret written on your face?

“Hey,” he said, smiling up at you. “You look tired.”

You almost sighed in relief. Maybe he couldn’t tell at all. You grabbed the coffee pot and poured yourself a cup. “I didn’t sleep much today. I was . . . worried about the kitten.” It wasn’t a whole lie; you really were worried about the kitten. The vet hadn’t sent you any updates, and you hoped that was a good thing.

“Are you gonna keep the kitten, if she lives?” Frankie flipped eggs as he spoke and set up a couple of plates.

“I can’t,” you grimaced, “Kurt would never go for it. He’s not really a fan of pets.”

Frankie made a face. “Not even adorable kittens?”

“Not even then,” you sighed. “It’s fine, though. It’s not like I have the time to properly care for one. I’m here most nights and I’m so busy with housework during the day when I’m not sleeping that it just- it just wouldn’t work.”

You kept your tone light, aware that customers could be listening. You didn’t want to scare off any tips with how miserable the subject made you. Frankie seemed to understand, because he didn’t bring the subject back up.

You were surprised at how easily you two worked together. Completely in sync when you had to be, entire sentences seemed to be translated through quick looks and raised eyebrows. This guy is a serial complainer. Want me to do something about those frat boys? Can you pretty please make me one of whatever this lady’s having?

All too soon it was 5:30 and the morning crew was there, breaking the comfortable silence between you. You found yourself lingering again, although you weren’t sure what for. You didn’t exactly need to stay. But still.

~*~

Frankie was shocked to see you still there. He was pulling his keys out of his jacket pocket when he saw you, standing outside, shivering in the early spring air.

“Thought’d you’d be halfway home by now,” he said, but he was still pleased to see you. He had come to the conclusion last night that you had a boyfriend, he would respect that and not make any untoward moves on you. Friendship suited him fine, even if he did think your boyfriend was a bit of a freak for not wanting a pet.

“I wanted to ask you something,” you said.

“Go ahead,” Frankie prompted.

“How’d you get the nickname Catfish?”

At this, Frankie’s lips twitched. He hadn’t been expecting that. “Before we were deployed, the boys and I went on a fishing trip. Well, one thing led to another and I had a huge catfish on my hook. This was a catch and release type of situation, you know?” When you nodded, he continued. “So, I reach in this creatures mouth to unhook it, and the bastard clamps down! Whole hand, in its mouth! And the thing about catfish, is they don’t have teeth, so they can’t technically bite, but they suck. It was like my hand was in a vacuum seal. When I eventually managed to get it out, no help from the boys mind you, it looked like a giant hickey on my hand. So, that’s where the nickname comes from.”

You snorted with laughter, and Frankie began to laugh too. At the time, it hadn’t been funny but looking back, he knew he would have been laughing his ass off if it happened to any of the other boys.

“I think Santi got a photo of it, I’ll try and find it for you if you want,” Frankie said. You nodded eagerly, wiping a tear from your eye.

“Please do, I’d love to see it,” you said with a grin that made his heart do something it really shouldn’t. Frankie nodded, making a mental note to call Santi and demand that the bastard rip apart his house to find it if he had to.

You turned to leave, and before he could stop himself, he was asking “do you want a ride?” Friends gave each other rides when they needed it, he reasoned. You hesitated, and Frankie kicked himself. Of course he’d overstepped. You didn’t know him that well, he was just the fry cook.

“Uh, yeah actually. It looks like it might rain.”

As if you had summoned it, thunder rumbled low overhead. Fat drops of rain began to fall slowly painting the ground. Frankie jangled his keys and you both sprinted to his truck. He opened your door for you, and ran around to his side. He didn’t miss that you sat with your back ridgid, your hands curled so tightly your knuckles were white.

“You okay?” he asked, although you obviously were not.

“Yeah, no, it’s just . . . You’re aware your truck looks like a death trap?”

Frankie snorted. He was very aware of this, but he was also very aware of what was under the hood. He trusted this truck more than any fancy modern car. Still. He decided that this was the perfect opportunity to mess with you. Just to see how you responded.

“Have you ever seen The Fast and The Furious?” He began, and you raised an eyebrow at him, your face skeptical. “Tokyo Drift, specifically. Well, this truck won me the title of Drift King several years in a row. That’s how well she runs.”

“Oh, fuck off!” You rolled your eyes, but you were laughing. “That’s not even slightly believable.”

“Yeah, you’re right. But how cool would it be if it were true.”

You rolled your eyes again, but you were smiling as you did it, and Frankie counted that as a victory. You gave him directions as he drove, surprising him with how close you lived to him. Only a five minute drive away. How long had you been this close? How had he never noticed you in the neighbourhood? Had he been blind, all these years?

“Thank you,” you said quietly as he pulled up outside your building, a three story walk up with a faded brick facade. The rain was coming down hard now, and lightning flashed.

“Anytime,” Frankie said in a tone that he truly meant any time. You nodded and ran through the rain, disappearing into the building. Frankie idled for a moment, wishing he could call you back and kiss you goodbye.

But he didn’t, because it wasn’t decent and it wasn’t what friends did. Friends didn’t crush on their friend like a fucking idiot kid.

So Frankie drove himself home and drove all thoughts of your mouth out of his head. That was until he checked his phone, and saw a text from an unknown number.

Thanks for the ride, I really appreciate it :) sent 5:57AM

Frankie quickly saved your number in his phone, not taking the risk of losing it somehow. A second message from you buzzed through.

Oh and lunch on Sunday is at Taylor’s Bistro, on High Street if you still wanna come sent 6:01AM

Frankie wrote his message quickly.

Wouldn’t miss it x

He stared at it for too long, erased the x, replaced it with a smiley face and hit send before he could overthink it entirely. Then he remembered his promise to you, and called Santi almost instantly.

“Fish, what the fuck man? It’s four in the morning,” Santi groaned into the phone.

“It’s six you dope, but I need a favour,” Frankie said.

“Money?”

“No, man, nothing like that. Do you still have that photo of the catfish on my hand?”

“Yeah I’ve got a copy in my wallet.” Santi sounded more awake, and Frankie could hear his fancy espresso machine whir to life.

“Why do you- nevermind. Look, I need a copy ASAP.”

“What for? If it’s to destroy it just know I’ve thought ahead and I’ve got four physical copies and one in the Cloud.”

“No, nothing like that. It’s for a girl at work, she asked how I got my callsign and now I’ve gotta show her the photo.”

“Oh?” Santi sounded intrigued. “Who’s this girl?”

“A friend,” Frankie said a little forcefully. “She has a boyfriend.” As if that closed the matter. Apparently, it didn’t.

“Why should that stop you?” Santi asked. “You’re hot, I don’t know this chick but she’d be blind to not be into you.”

“Well, for one, my brain isn’t directly wired with my dick.” At this, Santiago scoffed. Frankie continued, ignoring him. “Secondly, she’s like, twenty five or six. She’s probably not into old guys.”

“You’re thirty-three, you’re not old. Also, chicks dig DILFs.”

“I don’t have a kid.”

“And yet you still have big DILF energy. I wonder if there are any little Francisco’s running around that we have yet to discover.”

“Shut the fuck up, man, it’s bad luck to say that kind of shit. Just get the photo to me, please.”

Santiago roared with laughter as Frankie hung up. Trust Santiago to work one of his deepest fears into conversation. Frankie wasn’t sure what he was more afraid of: having children, or having children and having no clue they existed. It wasn’t that he was against having kids altogether, it was just he knew he wasn’t in the right headspace to take care of someone who depended on him entirely. Some days he forgot to take care of himself, he didn’t want a kid to suffer. It wouldn’t be fair.

He brushed the thought aside as he climbed into bed. It was bad luck to linger on bad thoughts, at least, that’s what his abuela always told him whenever he complained about something as a kid.

He wasn’t sure why exactly he had told you that there was photographic evidence of a catfish latched onto his hand. Maybe he wanted to impress you? But no, he reasoned, there was nothing impressive about that. It was just plain embarrassing. He realised with a start that what he wanted was willing to do anything to hear your laugh again.

Taglist: @hnt-escape @sharkbait77 @1800-fight-me @annathewitch @darnitdraco @frankiecatfish

#the night shift #frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #triple frontier

[fiveisnumber1]

Blast to the Past - A Timeless Side Piece

Here’s like a somewhat short little piece, my brain just decided to come up with this concept after a conversation with @oceanspray5 so I wrote it down. If you read it, let me know your thoughts, I’d love to hear them! Thanks ❤️

August 6th, 2043

Like most mornings, you sat around the kitchen table having breakfast with your family. Typically all of the Hargreeves siblings would be present but they had gone out for their own breakfast this morning to celebrate Vanya’s promotion as conductor of the local orchestra, leaving you, Five and your children to have breakfast without them. Your darling husband, Five, sat to your right and held your hand as he drank his morning coffee. And across the table sat your two beautiful children. You smiled as you listened to your daughter Lia detail how she and some of her cousins were going to go shopping for first day of school outfits this coming weekend. On the other hand your son, Penn, was quiet. He pushed around the meal on his plate as he looked between his food and his father. You couldn’t tell exactly what was going on in his head but you knew that it had to deal with Five. Giving Five’s hand a squeeze he looked towards you. With a slight tilt of your head you gestured towards your son just at the right time for Five to catch his eye.

“Is something wrong buddy? You’ve barely touched your breakfast.” Five questioned

Penn stayed silent as he looked at his dad. Something was wrong and it had been weighing on his mind for a while. Straightening his posture he put down his fork as he took a deep breath. The rest of the family looked on quietly as Penn turned to Five and asked,

“Hey dad, you think I can try traveling back in time a few minutes?”

Five knew this topic would come up at some point when he started trying to teach him to time travel. He was his son, so of course he’d want to do more than what were in his capabilities. It just wasn’t feasible to move up to minutes given that he barely had control of traveling for seconds. Regretfully, Five looked at his son as he answered,

“Not yet, we’ve only hit going back in time 30 seconds.”

Penn’s face dropped as disappointment spread across his face. Seeing the change in demeanor Five tried to brighten things up by adding,

 “Y’know what though, I’ll let us shoot for 45 seconds today. How about that?”

“Dad, I’ve been practicing seconds for the past 6 months, I want to do more.” Penn complained

Five looked at you and saw the concerned look on your face. Five was trying to be reasonable in terms of his son’s feelings. He knew that getting to start learning to time travel was exciting to him given that he was only able to start learning those six months ago, but excitement did not equal experience.

“Penn, I appreciate your enthusiasm but your mom and I have explained on multiple occasions how dangerous time travel can be.” Five elaborates

“It’s taken your dad years to get to the level of control he has now.”  You added

Penn could feel frustration build up inside him. He wanted to time travel in the same way his dad could. It wasn’t fair that he couldn’t move up to minutes. He definitely had mastered seconds so what was the hesitation with bringing up the amount of time? Standing up from his seat he gave a pointed look as he exclaimed,

“I’m ready to make that jump! I’m not asking for years just a few minutes!”

Five was shocked at his son’s outburst. He had never seen his son this upset and even in times where it came close he still had never shown this much. He knew it would upset him, but Five was doing this for his own son’s good. Sitting up straighter, Five looked at his son.

“Penn, I’m sorry but the answer is no.” Five firmly replied “We need to start small so there are no large consequences.”

The beginnings of sparks started to fly off of Penn as a blue glow whirred around his hands. You and Lia winced at the minor disturbance Penn was causing due to his anger. Instead of saying anything more though, he jumped away from the kitchen and with a flash of blue he was gone. Wanting to help her obviously distraught brother Lia quickly stated,

“I uh...need to make a phone call...”

“Who do you need to call at 10 am?” You questioned

“Oh y’know...uh...Spiderman?” Lia replied confused before quickly adding “Anyway bye.”

And just like that your daughter had also flashed away to follow her brother. With both your children gone from the table you and Five sat in a silence. Pulling his hand from yours, Five dropped his head into his hands.

“Ugh, I feel like my father right now.” He lamented

Your heart broke at his statement. You knew that Five was nothing like his father and constantly loved and cherished your children. He would give the entire world to them if he could. Having him compare himself to that shitty excuse of a man was so saddening because you knew he was only trying to keep Penn safe. Placing a hand on his back you leaned in closer as you tried to comfort him,

“Hey, you know you’re not your father. You didn’t say no to him, just not yet.”

Five looked up from his hands and over at you, the pain in his eyes was on full display.

“I know but it’s like staring myself in the face. I got mad I couldn’t time travel like I wanted during a meal with my family and here he is doing the same.” Five elaborates

“Darling, he has wanted to time travel just like you ever since he could comprehend the subject. He wants to be just like his dad.” You try to affirm

“I just don’t want him to make the same mistakes as his dad.” Five commented looking away from you

He knew the decision was the right one but nevertheless he felt so awful not being able to make his son happy. Placing a gentle hand on his cheek you bring his gaze back to yours. Giving him a slight smile you reply,

“I know. Maybe if we just give him a few minutes to cool off everything will be okay.”

“I hope so. I hate saying no to our kids.” Five stated

Your smile widened as you brought your face closer to your husband’s. Taking on a less serious tone you commented,

“You hate saying no to anyone in this family,”

You could see a smile start to reappear on his face. Oh how he loved you so dearly. Closing the space between you two, he placed a soft kiss to your lips. Pulling back he smiled as he responded,

“Especially you, ma chérie,”

Quietly, the two of you sat back in your chairs sipping you coffee as you patiently waited for your children to come back to the table. Upstairs though Penn flashed into the living room as he paced back and forth talking to himself,

“Ugh, it’s no fair. I wan’t to time travel more than just seconds. I’m ready for minutes!”

Flashing in a second later, Lia leaned against the living room door frame as she listened to her brothers rant. Crossing her arms over her chest she commented to him,

“You know you’re lucky you even get seconds. I can’t learn time travel for another two years.”

“Thats’s because you’re 13. you’re too young.” Penn retorts “Me on the other hand, I’m 15 which means I’m old enough to learn,”

Flashing away from the door frame Lia reappears closer to her brother floating upside down in the air.

“Just because you’re old enough to learn doesn’t mean you’re smart enough to do it.” Lia remarks before sticking her tongue out

“This is none of your business you car floor french fry.” Penn replies pushing her face back

Walking away from her, Penn makes his way towards the side of the room the piano was one. Transporting herself from her molecules from her position in the air Lia appears sitting criss-cross on top of the piano. 

“It totally is my business,” Lia explains catching her brother’s attention, “You had this conversation in front of me dumbass,”

Penn rolled his eyes at his younger sister before using his powers to knock her off the piano top.

“Hey! You can’t just do that!” Lia complains 

Standing up from the floor, Lia looks towards her brother who hard turned away from her again. Watching him she had noticed that Penn had taken up a position as if he was about to take off running.

“What are you doing?” She asked

“Just leave me alone, so I can jump back in time a minute.” Penn huffed

“But dad said no.” Lia reminds

“Lia, I can do a minute. It’s just 30 seconds more, I can’t fuck up 30 extra seconds.” Penn states still not looking back

“But dad-” Lia tries to say again

Penn was done with this. Whipping around he narrowed his eyes on her as he exclaimed,

“Forget what dad said alright! I’m doing it!”

Quickly he whipped back around as he took off on a running start, blue energy starting to form around him. Trying to stop her brother, Lia flashed to him attempting to tackle him to the ground. The two of them felt as the whirring of energy stopped. Both children stood up from the ground as they brushed themselves off. Annoyed that Lia had ruined his time travel practice he angrily scolded,

“Why did you do that? Something could’ve gone wrong.”

Lia didn’t reply. All she could manage to do was stare with wide eyes and mouth agape at something behind him.

“What’s with the stupid expression?” Penn questioned

Instead of saying any words she slowly raised her hand as she just pointed to whatever she was looking at behind him. Turning around, he looked in the direction of what his sister was seeing and was met with a sight he never expected to see. A depressing portrait of a younger version of his father staring down at him from over a fireplace. With the sudden realization of what had happened slipping in all Penn could manage to say was,

“Oh fuck.”

#the umbrella academy #tua #umbrella academy #umbrella acedmy #five hargreeves #tua five hargreeves #tua five #five #five hargreeves x you