#To be fair I have experienced abandonment for being too much of a drag before...

[heyitsjay03]

I saw request we’re open for RE8. Could I please have a fem! reader who tries to get rid of Ethan Winters because he keeps causing distress to her wife, Alcina? Please and thank you.

yes. yes you most certainly can have this.

i have been DYING to write about some alcina x fem!reader for the sole reason being that i have NEVER questioned my sexuality so hard since this damn game came out so yeah.

ps: wrote this in first person hope that's okay!

pps: there is some major plot deviation because.... i felt like it. idk. it fit??

DISCLAIMER: I do not claim to own Resident Evil or its characters or plot. CAPCOM please don't come for me.

here you go love >:)

word count: 1.57k

"Girls!" I call, closing the door behind me. "My darlings, I'm home!" Shifting the grip on the parcel of items from the village, I look around.

Usually one of the girls would've answered by now. Bela is usually here to greet me.

She's probably with her mother.

I shrug off my fur coat, handing it to one of the maids. She takes it and lays it over the back of a chair. I can tell by the large, gnarled scar on her forearm who she is "Marienna," I mumble, staring up the stairway. "...where're the girls?"

Marienna's face pales as she stares back at me. Her mouth opens and closes like a trout. "Well?" I snap, "D'you know where they are or-?!"

A crash resounds down the hallway. Alcina's voice tears from her bedroom, followed by a shuddering sob.

I'm hurrying up the stairs in seconds, abandoning the parcel. My body collides with the door- forcing it open.

Our bedroom is destroyed- the vanity broken to pieces. Alcina's soft hands cling to the golden wood, thumb rubbing against the varnish. Slowly, her eyes trail up to me. A smile nearly as broken as the vanity crosses her painted lips. "...I loved this damned mirror," she mumbles, eyes turning down to the broken pieces again.

"What happened, darling?" I coo, stepping over the pieces to stand beside her. My hand on her shoulder, I turn her face gently towards mine. Tears are streaming down her face- leaving jagged streaks of mascara. "Are you alright? What happen-"

Alcina's body tenses under my touch. Trembling, her grip tightens on the wood. It cracks before being wrenching in twain in her hands. "It was that stupid manthing!" She hisses, standing back up to her full height.

"...what 'manthing'?" I ask, "Your brother?"

Alcina ignores me, leaning back down to pluck one of the larger fragments before throwing it across the room. "He laid his filthy paws on our daughters!"

My mind races as it struggles to understand what the hell is happening.

Manthing.

It's not Heisenberg. He'd never lay a finger on the girls.

Some brutish village slug- that's got to be it.

But why? Why on earth would they...?

It doesn't matter.

As Alcina leans down to grab another bit, I grab her hand. "...are... are the girls okay? Where are they?"

A shuddering sigh passes her lips. "...they're all together," she whispers, wiping tears from her face hastily. "Bela... she was... that disgusting beast, he nearly killed her!"

"What?" I mutter, eyebrows drawing together as I step back. "...what... well is she okay? What happened? Is she going to be alright?!"

Alcina sighs again. "...she'll be alright," her hand wraps around mine gently. "Her sisters found her. Brought her to me."

"Where is she now?," I ask, tightening my grip around her finger. "My baby girl... where...?"

Alcina smiles warmly, getting down onto one knee. Her fingers brush back the hair from my eyes. Tears fall quickly down my face as I realize what could've happened if Cassandra and Daniela weren't nearby. "She's with her sisters," she answers gently. "Resting... waiting for her mother to get back with the flowers and silk from the village."

A cold laugh passes my lips before I sniffle. "...her mother should've been there. Should've never left."

Alcina's face tightens. "You can't blame yourself, darling," she mumbles, turning my chin up so I can face her. "No one knew this... Ethan Winters... would be so hideously vindictive."

I nod slowly, wiping the tears from my face. "...can I see her?"

"Of course, my love," she says, leaning in to press her lips to my cheek. "Of course."

The two of us walk down the halls to the center of the house. 'Safest place for her' Alcina had told me.

She had spoken to me the entire way over here, trying to get me out of my own head.

Bless my beloved wife for trying.

But that name. It just keeps buzzing around my mind.

Images of my hands, covered in thick blood, gripping the handle of a sickle play through my head. The blade going through the jugular of this 'Ethan Winters' and popping out the other side. Him desperate for air, choking on his own hot blood, as he watches me loom over him.

His last words will be for mercy.

His last view will be my blade.

My breath is bated as I watch him stalk through the darkness of the courtyard. In the moonlight, I can see is head is down, eyes wary as he keeps a fair grip on his pistol. The cool air lets me see him regulating his breathing- keeping him steady, keeping his pistol steady.

He's experienced.

My grip on my own weapon tightens as he stops in the gazebo. His eyes narrow as he turns around, his pistol raised. I watch in mild amusement as he whirls around, looking for something to shoot.

He's experienced, yes, but still not experienced enough.

I tug the fabric around my face higher along the bridge of my nose. Gripping my sickle, I balance on the balls of my feet.

Ethan finally relaxes, dropping his arms with his back to me.

A small smile creeps along my lips under the mask. A foolish move made by an even more foolish man.

My body slides underneath the stone railings for the stairs leading into the center of the courtyard. Untucking one of the smaller knives from my belt, I pinch it between two fingers and flick my wrist forward.

The knife goes flying- landing right between Ethan's shoulder blades. A guttural yell comes from him as he spins around to face me. In a blink, I'm up in front of him, nose brushing against his.

I can see the fear in his eyes.

I can't help my smile growing beneath the dark fabric.

Ethan raises his hand, pistol in his palm. With a tut of my lips, I shake my head and stab his hand through with my sickle. "...no, no," I mumble as he continues to scream and thrash against my hold. "There'll be none of that, I'm afraid, Mister Winters."

His teeth gritted, he hisses as my sickle is pulled from the inner part of his wrist. A bitter laugh bubbles up from my gut as he stumbles back onto the floor of the gazebo, now holding the pistol in his shaky left hand. "You can't be serious!" I giggle as Ethan pulls the trigger.

A wet squelch hits my ears as the bullet tears into my stomach. I sigh dramatically, looking down at the gushing hole in my dress. "You didn't think I was human- did you?" I ask, twirling the sickle in my hand.

"Wh- what?" Ethan mutters, eyes fixated on the bullet wound in my torso.

"I'm not," I continue, stepping closer to him as he tries to back away. Another gunshot echoes through the courtyard- the bullet landing in my left shoulder. "Not entirely, anyways."

"What the hell are you?!" Ethan yells, firing three more shots. One in the crook of my neck, one just barely grazing my temple, one lodging itself in my hip.

My jaw tightens as I hurry forward, grabbing him by the collar and throwing him back into the center of the gazebo. "I!" I snap, grabbing him again and gripping his wrist. "I... am the mother of the girl you almost killed!"

I pull another knife out of my belt. Trailing it down his lips, I smile. "And the wife... to a woman scorned." With a single swing, the knife digs into the flesh of his palm and nails it to the gazebo.

Ethan yells in pain. As I step back, his other fist cracks across my face. I stumble back. Grabbing at my cheek, I chuckle darkly. "Oh, Ethan," I coo coyly, grabbing my sickle. "You really shouldn't have done that."

I swing and watch with what could only be described as 'glee' as the blade pierces his throat. Covered in blood, the blade glistens crimson in the pale moonlight. Ethan's choked pleas are drowned out by my laughter.

"Why?" is the only word able to leave his lips without being smothered in a gush of blood.

"Because, Mister Winters," I hum, my nose brushing against his as I watch the life in his eyes flicker. "You should never have touched my family."

BONUS ENDING:

"What is that delicious smell?"

I turn around to see Alcina bending down to peek outside. A smile crosses my lips as I gesture to the mutilated corpse with the end of my sickle. "Dinner, my love," I hum, wiping off the blade with the fabric I had used for a mask. "Sorry it's not the cleanest."

Alcina scoffs and waves me off. "It's fine, _________. I'll just go let the girls know their mother brought dinner...," she pauses, eyes flicking over the gushing body. "...who was that? He smells... familiar."

"Just Ethan Winters," I answer nonchalantly.

"...y-you..." Alcina stammers, eyebrows weaving together and lips pursing. "You... when did you-?"

"He must've been tired," I continue with a small smile. "He was not nearly as difficult a kill as I thought he'd be."

"...I'll... I'll be going now."

"Okay, love," I chirp, "I'll drag him in in a second. Love you!"

Alcina's eyes are still wide, mouth slightly agape as she steps away from the doorway. "...love you too... darling."

can you tell i had a lot of fun with this?

yeah. because i did.

i hope you enjoyed! writing lady d is so much freaking fun i kid you not.

big vampy lady make brain go brr

#lady dimitrescu x reader #lady dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu x fem!reader #bela dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu #anon ask #anon #resident evil village fanfiction #resident evil village #resident evil 8 #ethan winters #manthing (derogatory) #had way too much fun with this #it was supposed to be like 500 words tops #it ended up being over 3 times that

[highqueenofelfhame]

fafs, twenty four

so i was definitely going to wait to post this until tomorrow or the day after but then decided to say fuck it and in the spirit of rowaelin month am just giving it to you now, whatever. who needs rules. or regulations. not me.

follow @highqueenofelfhamewrites and turn on post notifs to receive updates (i don't do taglists anymore, sorry folks!) masterlist//support me with a ko-fi//redbubble

It was nowhere near the worst injury she’d ever had, but it certainly wasn’t pleasant.

The living room floor of one of her smaller sanctuaries had been turned into a makeshift operating room. A trash bag was laid out beneath her, rustling with every move she made. The first aid kit that had been untouched and hidden under the kitchen sink was open with all its pieces scattered around her. A brand new bottle of vodka sat to her right, several shots worth already buzzing through her veins. It would take at least one more swig before she got started, but it was already difficult to slide the thread into the needle, so she was holding off until she was just about ready to begin.

Gods damn the agent that shot her. Aelin would bet money that it was Remelle, the blonde bitch that had been pawing at Rowan for years. Before, when she was Lilian, she’d heard a wide array of stories about the woman and her unwanted advances. Ever since Aelin had been introduced to the FBI as a criminal informant, she had shot daggers at her in every meeting, likely angry Aelin was spending so much time with Rowan. Despite how much of that time was angry banter from Rowan, no matter if Aelin was trying to thaw out his icy inner and exterior.

None of that mattered now. She could have Rowan if she really wanted him. Maybe they were already together and--

Aelin stopped those thoughts in their tracks, eyes focusing on the task at hand. There were bigger things to worry about, like getting out of the city and, most importantly, the bleeding wound on her thigh. She chewed on her lip until the thread finally made it into the curved needle, and she held back a cheer as she sloshed some vodka over the wound on her thigh. Hissing through her teeth, she thanked the gods that it wasn’t any worse.

It wasn’t even that bad, considering everything else she’d experienced. There was the time Arobynn had stabbed a dagger through her palm, and she’d had to stitch up the injury herself. She wasn’t sure how many times she’d been sliced and jabbed in training. Her list of broken bones and scars was a long one. Once she got older and was better at her job than all of the men combined, training had become more of a game of survival. They had been out for blood, shedding hers in red tears on the floor until she managed to incapacitate them enough to claim the victory for herself.

This gunshot wound was minor. It hadn’t nicked anything major, and it had taken a while for Aelin to realize she’d even been shot. The adrenaline from running from the full force of the FBI had been enough to repel the pain until she was nearly to her safehouse. She was four blocks away when she realized her pace was slowing and that there was a sharp, hot pain throbbing in her left thigh. A glance down told her everything she needed to know. She had limped straight through the front door and to the first aid kit, where she now prepared to stitch her own leg up.

At one point, there had been a numbing agent in this bag, but she remembered using it on Sam after a nasty fight with Arobynn one night when she was twenty-one. Since then, she’d seldom been to this safehouse and had neglected to restock her kit. There was barely enough of the nylon thread left over, but she would manage. Aelin made a mental note to have someone, either Nox or herself, replenish the missing items.

With a deep breath and a final swig of vodka, she picked up the forceps and shimmied the tension from her shoulders while she hunched over her leg, ready to begin.

With the first stick and the drag of the thread through her skin, Aelin bit her lip so hard she drew blood. It was a bizarre and uncomfortable feeling accompanied by a slight burning sensation. Several times she groaned while she sewed her skin back together. By the time she was finished, her mouth tasted metallic, and the trash bag beneath her was covered in droplets of blood. Her bare thigh looked grim and would leave behind a jagged, ugly scar, but she doused it once more in vodka before wiping away the blood with a damp piece of gauze. Her hands were mostly steady while she placed a bandage over the top and taped it down.

It was just another painful memory that would soon fade to silvery skin. How many more would it take until she was free?

Shaking her head to pull her from any thoughts too negative to deal with right now, Aelin smiled a bit. She was almost pleased with herself for handling the entire situation so well, but the reality of the situation was soon to crash down on her. It didn’t take long for her to get up, going about the tiny house and jerking all the curtains closed. Hardly any natural light was able to filter in through the gaps in the curtains for how tightly she’d twisted at the blinds until they were sealed completely shut. Thumbtacks were shoved into the walls to keep anyone curious from peering inside. She would move to another place in a day or two, she promised herself, after she had time to dye her hair and her wound wasn’t so fresh.

Every lock on every door was twisted into place-- seven locks on both the front and back doors. Only two of those locks could be opened with a key from the outside. The other five were inside only, a variation of deadbolts and chain locks that made her feel secure.

Only when she was satisfied that she was as safe for the time being did she go to the single bedroom and lock the door behind her. In a handful of heartbeats, she collapsed on the old quilt and drifted into a fitful sleep.

~*~

The news that it would take weeks, maybe months, of physical therapy to have his shoulder back to one-hundred percent was irritating to say the least. Rowan would be out of work for a while, but that wasn’t the most frustrating part of the situation. He would be wearing the restrictive sling for weeks, only to take it off when he changed clothes or showered. They didn’t even allow him to take it off to sleep, for gods’ sake. Rowan would be sleeping sitting up for the foreseeable future, and he was fucking annoyed about it.

The last few nights sleeping in the hospital had been anything but fruitful. Not only was he woken by the nurses coming in to check on him every few hours, every single time he tried to adjust to a more comfortable position, he was reminded of the sling. The pain was nearly suffocating. Rowan had heard from Fenrys about how bad shoulder injuries were, but this was on another level of anything he had ever experienced.

So why he was standing in the abandoned apartment of the woman who had shot the bullet through it in the first place was beyond him at the moment.

It wasn’t the apartment littered with cameras and paid for by the bureau. It was the one she’d lived in privately before her beating and arrest. It was the one decorated with opulence and taste. With artwork that wouldn’t surprise Rowan to find it had been stolen and was priceless. The one with books stacking shelves every which way, those novels bookmarked and annotated, as he had just learned. Like she loved them so much, she couldn’t help but document her favorite and least favorite parts.

The linens closet was filled with the softest blankets and nicest sheets Rowan had ever felt in his life. Silk sheets were currently stretched over the mattress in her bedroom, a thing that Rowan had thought she’d quipped as a joke once.

“Sorry, the sheets aren’t Egyptian cotton for whatever the hell you’re used to,” he’d said, a bite in his tone as he showed her the dump of an apartment the bureau had decided on for her.

“Silk,” she winked. “Feels good against my skin when I sleep naked.”

It hadn’t been a joke. He ran his fingers over the fabric and almost smiled at the memory but forced his lips into a frown instead. As he looked around the room, the nearly ostentatious yet somehow tasteful room, he missed her. He hated himself for it, but he missed her. The woman had shot him through the shoulder, but the pain in his heart was somehow worse. His first thought when he woke in the hospital from surgery had been about if they’d found her and she was safe, gods above. Everything about himself was secondary, and he didn’t really care.

But they hadn’t found her. There was no trace of her after her anklet was cut. Nobody had seen her; traffic cams had stopped picking her up like she had just… vanished. He hated that she was so good at her job, so good at being a criminal.

Deep down, Rowan knew that wasn’t what bothered him. It never really had. There wasn’t a part of her soul that he had seen and didn’t understand or want to love. Nothing she had ever done had pushed him away in the slightest. Her honesty about her life and the vulnerability she had shown him only made him respect and love her more.

He wasn’t mad that she shot him. Was he annoyed that he couldn’t use his arm? Of course. But he understood. Rowan understood that she felt backed into a corner and betrayed, and she went into fight or flight mode. In this case, it had been fight and flight. He had stepped too close and got shot in return. It was fair. She was used to fighting her way out of situations, so of course, it was the route she’d taken.

He just wanted her to slip up for once so he could just find her and talk to her. Figure out whatever the hell was going on when they’d argued before she shot him, then disappeared in the middle of the day in a bustling city. Rowan wasn’t even mad that she hadn’t been caught. In fact, he was glad they hadn’t caught her.

Rowan didn’t want her to be found. The full force of the FBI would rain down on her like a hurricane and she would be shown no mercy. There wasn’t a single part of him that wanted her suffering in an interrogation room, throwing around the word allegedly like she used to throw daggers. For her to be thrown back in that dismal jail cell awaiting a death sentence that almost assuredly awaited her for what happened at the bureau.

But he was still frustrated as all hell that he couldn’t find her now, no matter how much he didn’t want her rotting in prison on the outskirts of the city.

It was while he stood with his fingers running over the silk of her sheets that he heard the jingling of keys at her front door. It was surprising, considering he’d had to pick several locks to get up here in the first place. Rowan flattened his body against the bedroom wall, listening to the front door open and close.

The footsteps that followed weren’t Aelin’s, though. They were a little louder, carrying a larger and heavier body. Rowan moved to stand in the doorway, startling the man in the center of the room. He dropped the bag he was carrying, swearing loudly as he bent to pick it back up.

“Gods above, Suit,” he murmured, dropping the bag on the kitchen counter. “What are you doing here? Getting something for Celaena?”

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” Rowan inquired, noting that the bag he carried contained nothing of real importance. If anything, it looked like a combination of garden tools and art supplies.

“I think I stashed something here if we’re being candid and off the record, which I would very much appreciate if we were, by the way. I’ve come to collect.” Haversham -- Rowan still didn’t know the man’s real name -- began digging around Aelin’s bookshelves, looking behind and even inside some of her books that turned out not to be books at all. They looked like books, but when opened in the middle were hidden pockets. Some were empty; some weren’t. Rowan noticed a few that had different bits of identification tucked away. None of that seemed to be what Haversham looked for as he simply closed them and put them back on the shelves.

“Where is she?” Rowan finally asked, a little boldly.

“Can’t you check that fancy anklet you have her wearing and figure it out? I haven’t seen her in a week. She isn’t calling me back, either, so when you do see her, can you tell her that I…” The man trailed off after looking up from his search and seeing Rowan’s face. Rowan’s hard, unyielding face and the concern that was likely etched in his features. The wrinkle between his brow, the stiff way he held his lips. Haversham’s head tilted curiously.

“Holy gods, did she make a run for it?”

“Something happened at the bureau. I can’t find her. Neither can they. But I need to talk to her. I can’t help her otherwise.”

“Do you want to help her?” The sound that came from Rowan was nearly a growl, and Haversham retreated a step with his hands raised defensively. “Look, I’m just saying. She wouldn’t make a run for it unless it was something serious and you’re incapacitated at the moment. Which leads me to believe that she did it; otherwise, you wouldn’t be hurt at all. Celaena wouldn’t let somebody hurt you. So either you really fucked up--”

“I did, but only by not protecting her and defending her when it mattered.”

Haversham twisted his mouth to the side while he gave Rowan a hard once-over. It was like he was assessing everything he knew about his character while deciding if he would help him or not. There was a prolonged silence that made Rowan want to throw something at the man, but he waited it out.

“I’m only going to help you because you make her happy. And I don’t mean superficially. I mean that for the first time in the eight years I’ve known her, she’s been happier and more alive than I’ve ever seen her. I know she trusted you more than she’s ever trusted anyone else. More than me, which doesn’t say much considering I think she trusts me as far as she can throw me. But she trusts you more than Sam even.” Finally, he ripped a page from one of the books and began to scrawl across the page until it was nearly full. When he handed it to Rowan, he realized it was a collection of addresses. Some were in the city; some were in other countries. Some were a handful of hours of a drive into nowhere. One was practically around the corner from where they were now.

“What is this?”

“Safehouses. Those are the ones I know about. Celaena has… a lot of secrets. I don’t know even half of them. I have my suspicions about a lot of shit, but I’m letting her come to me with it when she’s ready. So I don’t know all of her safehouses, but I know those ones. Those are the ones she’s let me use in times of trouble. That’s the only help I can really offer you besides calling if I hear from her.”

“Thank you,” Rowan said softly, and he meant it. It was the biggest and only lead that he had on her whereabouts, and even if she wasn’t crashing on a bed in any of these places, it was a start. It was the only hope he had so far that maybe, just maybe… he might find her.

~*~

Rowan had decided to start on the outside and work his way in, and it was wasting a lot of time. Everyone he was friendly with at the bureau was constantly calling and texting to see how he was doing, asking what he was up to. Fenrys told him he’d stopped by his apartment a few times this week, and he hadn’t been home. Rowan replied, saying he was just taking some time to himself, which seemed to satisfy the man, and that had been that.

In reality, Rowan had been in Terrasen trying to find Aelin. She wasn’t in either of the two listed near the border of Adarlan, so now he was slowly working his way back toward Rifthold. It just didn’t seem likely for her to be hiding somewhere in the city, not when she would have to leave for food and other necessities at some point. So he’d gone as far out as he could before making his way back. So far, it had turned up nothing. Both of the cabins he’d visited in the woods had seen better days and likely hadn’t seen Aelin in years.

He was driving toward his fourth destination now, so deep in Oakwald, he wasn’t entirely sure he wasn’t back in Terrasen at this point. The location pinged on the Adarlanian side of the border, but he had little hope of actually finding her. There were only two safehouses left on the list, and both of them were in the city itself. Would he still check them? Of course. But did he think that she was stupid enough to be there? Absolutely not.

The energy of the place was different as soon as he made it up the drive. Halfway up, a gate that covered the driveway, and Rowan had to abandon his car and hop the fence. It was a bit of a feat, as it was taller than him, and he only had one good arm to use, but he managed. Even if it had taken him three times as long as it usually would have. Feet pounding down against the dirt so hard it caused a small cloud, he proceeded up toward the small cottage with a little more confidence than he’d had the rest of the drive.

Smoke was wafting from the chimney, and a dim glow flickered in the window. The window that a lithe body stood in, peering through the curtains and backlit by the fire. He couldn’t see her face, but he knew it was Aelin, knew he’d been spotted, and knew she was watching. How she had known he’d arrived, he wasn’t sure. Being overcautious her entire life likely meant that there were tripwires that alerted her of his presence somewhere on the driveway.

As he got closer, she disappeared, and the curtains slipped back into place. When he got to the door, he reached out but hesitated for a moment. Aelin clearly didn’t want to be found and was clearly mad at him. What if she did worse than she had the last time they’d seen each other? Part of him thought she wouldn’t, but he hadn’t ever thought she would shoot him, either. Rowan wasn’t sure how many times she had told him she hated guns, but desperate times call for desperate measures, after all.

It took more courage than he cared to admit to turn the knob. Much to his surprise, the door opened, and he slipped inside, shutting it behind him quietly. To be frank, Rowan couldn’t believe his luck. He couldn’t believe he’d managed to find her at all, much less on a list of places that Haversham managed to remember.

As his eyes adjusted to the room, he saw Aelin sitting across the room with a bottle of rum in one hand, balanced on her thigh. She was slumped down a bit in the chair; her hair dyed a muddy reddish-brown color. A dagger was in her other hand, being twisted in circles against her bare leg. Rowan wanted to tell her to stop, that she would hurt herself, but faster than he could register, she was moving. He was stunned further into silence by the whistling of the wind and the slight breeze by his ear. A loud thud had him whipping around to the door.

Embedded in the wood, millimeters from where his head had just been, was the dagger she’d been holding, and when he looked back at Aelin, she was smirking.

#fafs #fafs24 #far way from sane #rowaelin #tog fic #tog fanfic #fanfiction #throne of glass fanfiction #throne of glass fic #rowan whitethorn #aelin galathynius #nox owen #fenrys moonbeam #remelle #lorcan salvaterre #terrasen #adarlan #writing #my writing #white collar #white collar au #rowaelin month kinda? question mark

[sluttyten]

Coming Home

Poly Orgy Series: Part 8

Poly Series Chapter Index

summary: when you found out you were pregnant, you worried you’d have to go it alone, but instead you find that you have quite a lot of support, several boyfriends that love you wholeheartedly, and a place to call home.

length: 21,227

tags: pregnancy!!, smut, polyamory, multiple partners, unprotected sex, the usual poly orgy series type of tags

“Baby, I don’t want to have to worry about anything in the future. I don’t want you to have to worry either. I love you so much, and the other night I was thinking about the future, about you, about the baby, and really it seemed to me that there’s only one true next step for me to take.” Mark takes a deep breath.

Your world freezes.

“Baby, will you marry me?” Mark asks even as he’s sinking down on one knee.

“Mark!” You cry out, slapping him on the arm hard enough that the sound echoes around your living room.

“Fuck!” Mark straightens up with a whine, his hand immediately flying up to cover the burning imprint of your hand on his arm. “What the fuck?”

Tears burst to your eyes, though you're not sure exactly why. “Mark, why would you ask me... ask me to marry you?” Your voice pitches up at the end, a surprised and somewhat almost frightened squeal.

Mark looks at you then, all wide-eyed seriousness. “I just thought it’s the right thing to do. If you’re pregnant, then shouldn’t you have something stable? A husband? Someone who can help you out and take care of you and the baby? And with the way our lives are, it’s a miracle that no rumor has gotten out to the fans about you at all yet, but now if it does, if they find out about you being pregnant, well, then everyone’s going to want to know which of us you’re with and the answer can only be one, and it’ll just make sense for us to get married, right?”

“And you think that should be you?”

“Well, why not?” His tone is slightly angry, defensive and hurt.

You sigh and turn your back to him so you can wipe at these tears without him watching you. 

“Baby?”

“Mark.” Your voice breaks and you clear your throat before turning around and addressing him again. “Mark, I appreciate it and I get where you’re coming from, but I’m going to say no. I love you, and I love that you want to do the right thing by marrying me, but it’s simply not fair to all the others. It’s not fair to you if you’re not the--”

“I don’t care about who the dad is.” Mark straightens up, determination burning in his gaze. “I know the odds of it being mine are slim. I would love if it is mine, like, the idea of being a dad is scary, but no matter what happens, who turns out to be the father, I figure I’m still going to be involved, right?”

You open your mouth, but you can’t find any words to comfort him, to give him a satisfying answer. You don’t know what’s going to happen in the future. Of course, you’ve always known that this whole polyamorous relationship couldn’t be sustainable, though you’ve all tried your best. This news, the little life growing inside of you, might just be that last little chip to shatter the relationship to bits. How can you hope to stay in a relationship with them all when you’ve got a baby? How could you raise a child with fourteen possible fathers?

“Maybe I’ll just Mamma Mia the whole situation,” you mumble. 

Mark snorts. “You gonna run away to a Greek island and raise this baby on your own? And in twenty something years when we’re all doing our own things, we’ll get an invite to a wedding, and only then will we unravel the mystery?” He smiles and steps up, wrapping his arms around you, one hand gently cradling the back of your neck. “Baby, you don’t have to do any of that. We’ll all figure this out. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done this tonight. I just.... I’m a traditional kind of guy, I guess. Baby, marriage, moving in together. Those are all things I’ve wanted for a long time, and we’ve already got two of those things in the works. But it’s okay, I understand.” 

You sink into his hug. Mark’s so warm and soft and with his arms wrapped around you, you feel even more sleepy than you had before. You breathe in, just taking in the smell of his soap and laundry detergent, and you breathe out.

“This feels nice,” you mumble, your words muffled against his shoulder. 

Mark’s hum of agreement vibrates through his chest, and a moment later it turns into a laugh.

Without breaking the hug, you ask him, “Why are you laughing?”

“I don’t even have a ring or anything.” Mark’s voice bounces happily, and he hides his face in your shoulder. “Probably a good thing you shot me down, honestly.”

A while later when you’re in bed, Mark yawning now too as he settles into your bed, you sit up and reach over to rummage through the drawer of your bedside table. 

When you turn back around, Mark’s watching you curiously, and he wordlessly gives you his hand when you gesture for him to give it to you. He watches as you uncap a Sharpie marker, and then you separate his ring finger from the others, as you draw a fine black line around the base of his finger. When you’ve completed the ink band you hold his fingers in yours.

“This is a promise,” you tell him, “that we do have a future together, no matter what. That we’ll always be in each other’s lives as lovers or friends or whatever it may be, you’ll always be special to me, Mark Lee.” 

You turn his hand over, and bringing his palm to your lips, you kiss right beneath the black band that you just drew on him.

Mark lunges up, wrapping his arms around you, dragging you down against his chest, and he kisses you, kisses your cheeks and nose and chin, and you’re laughing with your hands braced against his chest, kissing him when you can too.

And the next morning when you wake up, you find that some time in the night, Mark had picked up your abandoned Sharpie, and drawn a matching black ink band on your ring finger.

Things are a bit weird for a while after that while everyone adjusts to the awareness that you’re pregnant. And after your first prenatal appointment, some of the boys start acting even more differently.

For one thing, the appointment confirms that you are indeed pregnant, and about eight to nine weeks along by the looks of things. Which, as you listen to your doctor, makes a lot of sense given the symptoms you’ve been experiencing. And that news of you being approximately eight weeks along, and therefore bringing a baby into the world in about 32 weeks, definitely changes how some of your boyfriends start behaving.

Especially after you show them the ultrasound picture.

It’s just a little gray, blurry blob, but there’s a heat in your chest that’s not caused by the heartburn you’ve begun to feel 

For a few of the boys, this means that they get protective over you. Taeil and WinWin, for example, both offer to do pretty much everything for you, from opening doors to running upstairs to grab something. Anything that actually might be in any possible way considered “overexerting yourself” they argue with you to let them do. 

Johnny, Jaehyun, and to your surprise, Jungwoo, all get much more touchy, wanting to be around you as much as possible. And Jungwoo is just a horny boy all the time, to the point that one evening after you get home from a date with him, as you’re sitting on his lap on the sofa in the otherwise empty house, Jungwoo just starts touching you, and you can tell that he’s already half-hard.

“What is with you lately?” You ask with a laugh, letting Jungwoo pull your shirt over your head. “You’ve been so horny. Is it something I’m doing different?” You perch yourself on his knees, bat your eyelashes at him, and push your chest forward, smiling as his eyes slide down to the curves of your breasts.

“Oh my god... Yeah, angel. Just thinking about you pregnant is actually really sexy.” Jungwoo’s hands settle on your hips. “You’re gonna look even sexier, and your boobs are going to get bigger and, uh, it’s not something I’ve really talked about before, because I was afraid the others would make fun of me or you’d think it’s really weird, but the idea of, like, nursing?” Jungwoo averts his eyes from you, his face going a pale shade of embarrassed. “I think it’s pretty hot.”

You smile and pat his head. “You’ve always had a thing for my boobs, you know, so honestly, I’m not too surprised.” Jungwoo leans into your touch, smiling all sweetly even as his hands knead at your ass roughly. “But you really think me being pregnant is sexy?”

Jungwoo nods. “Definitely. Plus,” he shrugs and says, “I don’t know, there’s just something about you right now that is very, very attractive. Jaehyun says so too.”

“I’m sure he does. Especially since he’s been hot for the idea of knocking me up since the first time we all had sex.” You drape your arms around Jungwoo’s neck. “You, him, Johnny, all three of you are acting so clingy and affectionate lately, meanwhile most of the others wouldn’t dare to try to have sex.” 

Just the day before you’d tried to initiate something with Hendery. He went along with it while you were just making out, but as soon as you slid your hand into his pants to rub his erection to full hardness, he’d backed away, making excuses. Taeyong had done the same a few days before that.

“I’ll dare to do it.” Jungwoo leans his head down, mouths at your breasts, as he murmurs, “I want you to ride me, right here. But turn around.”

Reluctantly you climb off his lap, and as you’re facing away from him, Jungwoo pulls your pants and panties down. You step out of them, look back over your shoulder at him, and see Jungwoo watching you with a look of pure awe on his face. 

“You’re always so beautiful.” Jungwoo slides a hand down your side, over your hip, curving around to your butt. He leans in and drops just a tiny kiss right at the small of your back. “What did we do to deserve you and everything you’ve blessed us with.”

Your face heats up with a blush. 

When he pulls you back onto his lap, his hands settle on your hips, guiding you all the way back until your back is pressed to his chest, his cheek touches yours, and your ass is right over his bulging erection. His fingers flutter for a moment, and then he brushes his hands up to your belly, gentle and light, and then he touches one warm palm flat against your skin, the soothing heat of skin on skin sinks down into you. 

Jungwoo’s lips rest against your cheek as you sigh, relaxing back against him.

His other hand wanders lower, fingertips dipping into the crack between your thighs, and obediently you part them for him, letting your legs fall off to either side of his, giving him access to your wet heat.

“Look at you, already soaking wet, spreading your legs so easily for me.” Jungwoo murmurs. “You really do want it badly, don’t you? How long has it been since one of us touched you?”

Truly not that long. That evening with Taeil, Johnny, Taeyong, Kun, Doyoung, and Ten was the last time, and that was just a little over two weeks ago. But compared to just a couple months ago, a week could be considered a dreadfully long time to go untouched by any of them.

You whine when Jungwoo only strokes his finger teasingly over your entrance, avoiding your clit, hardly giving you anything.

“Too long, Jungwoo. I want you.”

“Me? But I’m sure you went to others first. Lucas? I know you love how big and broad he is, making you feel all small. Or Kun hyung? Remember when he and Ten were hogging you all to themselves; you couldn’t get enough of them then.” Jungwoo teases. “You want me? Why do you want me so badly?”

You squirm, wiggling down against his erection. “Because I love you, Jungwoo. I want you.” 

He tuts, his lips trailing down now from your cheek to your neck, brushing over sensitive skin, his nose bumps against your jaw. “But why though? What exactly do you want about me?”

His teeth meet the skin of your shoulder just barely, and you whine. “I want you to have me all to yourself, Jungwoo. You can make me feel small too. You’re so big and broad and long.” You rub your ass down against his erection, your head dropping back against his shoulder. “I want you to make me feel small, like your little angel doll.”

Jungwoo smiles where his lips are against the top of your shoulder. 

You can feel yourself dripping wet, the slick arousal gathered on his finger that just keeps up its petting of your pussy lips. 

His mouth moves, teeth pricking your skin occasionally, and then you feel the moment that he catches your bra strap between his teeth, dragging it along to the curve of your shoulder. When he releases it, the band tickles down your upper arm, and Jungwoo shifts, focusing his nipping kisses on your other shoulder until he against takes that bra strap between he teeth and drags it over the curve of your shoulder. 

“Sit up, angel.” Jungwoo murmurs, and you do just that, feeling excited but also disappointed when his hands disappear from your skin, only to return a moment later. His slick finger touches against your back along with several non-slicked fingers, and a second later the clasp of your bra comes apart. You let it drop from your arms, leaving you fully exposed in the room, sitting in a fully-clothed Jungwoo’s lap.

He spreads his legs apart, and you lean back against him once more as his spreading legs push yours farther apart as well.

“Sexy.” Jungwoo kisses your cheek again.

He scoots your forward just a little, just enough that he can fit his hand between you both, and unfasten his zipper to get his cock out. You feel him hot and hard against your tailbone, and your core throbs. It’s been too long since you last had one of them inside you, and now....

You moan from the satisfaction of lifting yourself up and sitting down on Jungwoo’s cock. 

“Perfect.” Jungwoo murmurs, his lips against your bare shoulder once more. “Love the feel of you when it’s been a while. The way you react.” His hands circle around to the front of your body, one hand lifted to gentle cup your breast. You groan, leaning back against his chest, sinking down the last inch around him, and Jungwoo’s other hand strokes lightly at your clit. “You’re so beautiful.”

With his arms wrapped around you, his hands caressing your body, his cock filling you up, you feel so perfectly small and safe in his arms, even with you being so exposed out in the room.

Jungwoo smiles as you start to squirm, needing to move to get more than just feeling full and having his teasing touches on your clit. But as you move away, pushing up onto your feet, pulling off his cock, you turn to see Jungwoo frowning slightly. Until you sit back down on his lap facing him. 

“I want to see you.” You push his cock back inside you, nice and snug, and then plant your hands on either side of his face, lower your mouth toward his, and start riding him.

Jungwoo’s hands fall to your hips, keeping your rhythm steady as you bounce in his lap. The sound of your gasping breaths and breathy moans echoes all around the space, and you’re grateful that tonight it’s only the two of you here. You feel the sparks of pleasure buzzing and zipping around under your skin; Jungwoo’s hands grope at your ass, his lips burn along your jaw, and you needed this, you really did. 

The orgasm comes over you before you expected it, suddenly crashing through you--walls clenching around Jungwoo’s dick, thighs twitching, unable to hold you up any longer, but that’s when Jungwoo just holds you up by your hips and keeps fucking you through it, his thrusts rocking through your body, elongating your orgasm.

Jungwoo grunts as he approaches his orgasm, low moans under his breath and swearing, and you just twist your fingers in his hair, dragging his lips to yours as he cums.

He pulls out of you as he does, cumming half inside you and half against your thigh, but you don’t mind. You sink down, feeling the mess as you sit against the front of his jeans, the denim rough against your sensitive clit, but at the moment you’re a glutton for that kind of oversensitivity. 

With Jungwoo’s softening erection still wet and the rough denim of his jeans, you start humping against him, desperate for another orgasm to keep this warm buzzy glow inside of you going. 

“Fuck,” Jungwoo groans. “Gonna cum again, princess? You’re making quite the mess of my jeans, look at you.” You do duck your head, looking down at the front of Jungwoo’s jeans where his own cum is smeared along with your wetness and more of his cum as it leaks out of you while you wantonly rub yourself against the denim, making a larger and larger wet patch, grinding forward against his cock, back along the denim.

His hands circle around your back, broad hands covering the expanse of your back, and you arch backwards a bit, leaning into his touch, keeping the movement of your hips against his pants. Jungwoo dips his head forward, his tongue swipes a circle around one of your nipples, his lips then skirt around kissing your breasts. They hurt but right now it doesn’t feel so bad, not with everything else you have going on.

“Cum again for me. I’ve got you.” Jungwoo murmurs, and he sucks gently on your nipple. Your mind falls straight to what you’d been talking about with him earlier, and you picture Jungwoo sucking on your breasts like this, breastmilk on his tongue, and somehow you find that to be a stimulating thought. 

This orgasm writhes through you, and your hips twitch erratically over his jeans, your body falling into the overwhelming pleasure of it, and you can feel the heat squirting out of you, and Jungwoo’s moans of surprise mix with yours. And all through it, the heat of his hands holding you safely remains, and then he pull your forward against his chest, those same hands rubbing soothingly up and down your back. 

“I’m sorry about your jeans,” you whisper to him after a little while when you’ve come back to yourself. “We should probably throw them in the wash before they’re permanently ruined.”

“No,” Jungwoo hums. “It’s fine. We can just stay like this for a bit longer.”

But you feel like your pussy is drying to the leg of Jungwoo’s pants, and that idea is certainly not pleasant, so when you peel yourself away from him, you wrinkle your nose a bit in disgust and Jungwoo groans at the loss of contact. “Let’s go shower and throw the clothes in the laundry. Plus, we shouldn’t stay here like this much longer. Who knows who will come home and find us like this?”

“I guess you’re right.” Jungwoo stands up suddenly, and it’s then that you really get a look at his pants. The whole crotch of them is dark from you squirting and from his cum. He quickly stuffs his cock away again, wipes his fingers along the front of his pants, and then you watch, bemused, as he lifts his fingers to his face and sniffs.

“You’re gross.” You laugh, taking his hand, and grabbing up your clothes before heading for the stairs.

“What? You smell good.” Jungwoo reaches up to touch your butt as you climb the stairs, and you stop so that you can spin around and look at him, and Jungwoo just grins. “Come on, thought we were going to shower?”

Moving day comes quickly, and the move is easy when you’ve got a whole moving crew at your disposal, every one of them more than happy to move things for you so you don’t strain yourself at all. Especially since they’ve all had multiple chances to look at that little blur that was the beginning of a baby in your ultrasound picture. You first showed off that picture two weeks ago, and now ten weeks along, you’re really starting to feel the pregnancy.

You’re exhausted, wanting to just nap all the time. And then, on top of the morning sickness, you’re dealing with heartburn too, plus just the day before the move, you stood up too quickly and felt dizzy, so now the boys are being very protective over you.

“Don’t lift that!” WinWin cried out in frustration as you bent over to lift a box from the floor. His hand rested on your back as you straightened up. “I’ve got it. Don’t worry about it, what do you think we’re all here for?”

He quickly stooped to lift the box for you. As soon as he was out the door, you looked for anything else that you could do. You hated being unable to help yourself move out. Ten had refused to even let you try to wrangle your cat Miso into the carrier since he seemed to be uneager to leave the apartment and move into his new home. So far most of your stuff had already been taken out before you could lift a finger to help, but now you saw a few boxes left, and just as you moved toward them, Xiaojun came through the door and caught your eye.

Xiaojun shook his head. “Don’t. We’ve got this.”

When you fold your arms across your chest and pout at him, Xiaojun smiles and walks over to you. 

“Don’t be like this.” He laughs. “We’re just looking out for you and the baby.” Xiaojun lifts a hand to your cheek, his thumb touching the corner of your lips tenderly. “Just think, all it takes is one day to move out, and then you’re living with us, baby. No worries about getting home late at night to your empty place.” 

You glance around at your startlingly empty apartment. This little place you’d made into a home, but it had grown less homelike over the last few months as you spent more time with your boyfriends. 

Home was them, the comfort of their kitchen filled with spices and warmth of whatever was cooking up, the sleepiness of sinking into the sofa with a few of them after a long day at work. 

Home was Taeil cuddling up behind you, his nose chilly on the side of your neck, but the rest of him so warm. It was Johnny kissing you hello every time either of you walked into the house after not having seen each other all day. It was quiet chats with Taeyong with your limbs tangled together, Yuta’s little moments of caring for you through words and touches and gifts. Home was Kun and Ten bickering with each other and turning to you to point out that they’re both fools, hearing them murmur ‘I love yous’ with Ten’s chilly fingers intertwining with yours, Kun’s contrastingly warm lips on your skin. Home was the smell of Doyoung and the sound of his voice singing so smooth and beautiful, his laugh, his gentle touches and bright smile when he saw you. It was Jaehyun sleepily slipping into the shower with you, just wanting to be close to you, WinWin silently taking care of you and quietly showing affection through light touches and surprise moments of intimacy. 

You could find home in Jungwoo’s playful, needy rambunctiousness and in his quieter heartfelt moments. Home was in Lucas confiding to you worries and secrets that he feared would make him look weak; it was in Lucas gathering you into his arms and bracing you against his chest, easily making you forget that the rest of the world was out there. Home was Xiaojun holding your face in his hands like the most precious treasure in the world; it was him laughing with his whole chest and spending hours curled together without sleeping, just having the quiet time together on your phones or listening to music or whispering to each other or gazing up at the stars. It was Hendery always being able to make you laugh, knowing the right things to say, caring and worrying and loving you. 

Home was Mark playing his guitar and singing under his breath, smiling out at you from beneath a hoodie, holding your hand as if he worried you might fly away, and most importantly home with Mark was found in him always being the first to invite you into their company, into their hearts and homes.

“Let’s go home,” Xiaojun tells you.

You nod, take his hand, and walk with him out of your apartment for the last time. 

Miso doesn’t like living in the house, not right away. He hisses at the boys, always bolting from room to room, trying to hide from anyone that’s not you. It’s only after Ten accidentally shuts Miso in his room with him and you that Miso finally mellows out just a little bit. After that he likes Ten. Only you and Ten. But that doesn’t keep Taeyong, Taeil, Jeno, YangYang, Renjun, and Jaehyun from trying to befriend him. 

Even when you’re napping on the sofa and Miso curls up on your chest, as soon as Jaehyun and Ten come downstairs, Miso stands up, flicking his tail angrily, and jumping off your chest, which wakes you up. You just catch sight of Miso’s tail disappearing from your line of sight, and then you look around.

It’s dusk outside, the sky a pretty pale blue with hints of pink and periwinkle clouds, and through the door in the kitchen you can hear laughter from outside. Johnny and a few of the others are out there grilling dinner, some others are in the kitchen. Jaehyun sits down across the room from you, but Ten slides onto the sofa with you.

“I’m sorry Miso doesn’t like you, Jaehyun.” You stretch your arms over your head, savoring the feel of your sleepy muscles stretching. You shiver at the feel of your shirt skimming up your stomach, a slight tickle. 

“Yeah,” Ten laughs. “He only likes me. Let’s hope that the baby’s the same way.”

Ten’s chilly hands slip under your shirt and you whine, smacking his hands away. “God, Ten! Stop that!” 

But he laughs and pulls his hands out, only to bring them to his face, puffing some warm breath into them before he does it again. It’s slightly better, though not by much. You pout at him. 

“I just want to feel.”

“Feel what? The baby’s not big enough to kick yet. I don’t think it even has proper legs. It might still have a tail.” You roll your eyes, looking across the room to where Jaehyun is watching all of this with a light smile on his lips. “And I’m not even showing yet, so you’re literally just feeling up my belly. I have much less to show under here than you do.”

And you dive for his shirt, trying to pull it up to expose his toned abs, even higher so that you see the black tip of his chest tattoo. Ten laughs and wrestles his shirt out of your grip carefully. He drops a kiss on your lips, and dances away before you can protest. He vanishes out the back door of the house, into the cooling afternoon where Johnny and Hendery are grilling dinner. 

You sigh and sink lower into the cushions. Jaehyun’s looking back down at his phone now, but you watch him anyway. 

Ever since all of this with you announcing your pregnancy, showing off the first ultrasound of Little Blobby (as you and a few of the others, including Jisung and Haechan, have begun calling it), and since moving in, you haven’t really had many opportunities to speak one-on-one with Jaehyun. He’s been busy MCing, taking on an acting role, fulfilling other idol duties. 

“Jaehyun?” You call. He looks up at you, and when you hold out your hand to him even though there’s still quite a few feet of empty space between you and him, he raises his eyebrows. “Come here?”

Jaehyun slides smoothly onto his feet, and you scoot into more of an upright position, making room for him to join you in the oversized armchair that you’ve been reclining in. He plops right into the spot with you, and you shift around, getting comfortable, which ends up meaning that you’re tucked against his side, one leg thrown over his. Jaehyun takes your hand, lifts it to his lips, and then brings your intertwined hands back down to rest atop the leg you have thrown over his.

“Yes, my love?” His voice is low, soft, and a bit scratchy as you know he’s at the tail end of a cold.

“I just wanted to be close to you,” you tell him. “And I feel like we haven’t really talked much recently. I miss you. Have you been sleeping enough? Eating enough?”

Jaehyun’s nose crinkles as he laughs. “Mom instincts already kicking in? Yes, I’m getting plenty of those things. I’ve been busy, but I’m managing. What about you? I heard you’ve been having trouble sleeping the past few nights. Taeil hyung said that you toss and turn. Mark said that you were sleep talking about some weird shit last night.”

You snort. “Yeah, last night I had a dream that we were all out eating at a restaurant, like one of those weird ones you’ll find sometimes in America with the fresh seafood tanks? With lobsters and stuff in them? And we were waiting for our food to be served, and it was taking forever, so Doyoung asked the waiter how much longer it would be, and the waiter pointed at me then at the fish tank and said, looks like you’re almost done. And there, in the giant tank, was me, looking like one of the people from Avatar in that big tank, my belly all big. It was fucking weird, that’s for sure.”

Jaehyun gives you a weird look, but laughs. “Your imagination is something else. But other than that weird dream, you’re doing well? Morning sickness still bad?”

You nod. “I walked past Jisung and Chenle earlier after they got home from practice, and they were eating like spicy teokbokki and all those smells combined, I couldn’t take it. Also, I guess my weird food cravings are starting too, because I really wanted crunchy peanut butter and watermelon earlier? I have no idea where that craving came from.” You shrug, and look at Jaehyun’s face again. “But I think morning sickness might be going away soon, that’s what the blogs I’ve looked at say. That the sickness starts to wane at the end of the first trimester and goes away for most women. Hopefully I’m not one of the ones that it continues for, I don’t think I’ll be able to handle that.”

He’s looking down at your belly, and you bite your lip. Was he even listening while were talking? He looks miles away. 

You bump him with your shoulder. “Jae? What are you thinking about?”

Jaehyun blows out a heavy breath. “You’re really pregnant, huh?”

You sit up a bit more, lean away from him so you can look at him more straight on. “Yeah? Duh. Thought we went over this like four weeks ago? Confirmed by an ultrasound and everything. And even before that you were totally on board when all I had was one positive cheap pregnancy test from a convenience store. Why the tone of, like, surprise?”

Jaehyun shakes his head. “No, it’s not-- I’m just still thinking about it a lot. Like, it’s amazing, honestly. Thinking that one of us is a dad, and we don’t really know it. I know,” he sighs, rubbing a hand over his face as he says, “That I’ve been a bit of a jealous asshole in the past. And I’ve tried working on that, right? I love you and of course I want this baby to be mine, like, fuck, how many times have I talked about that. But I want you to know that, uh, even if it’s not mine, I’m just excited and amazed that in a few months you’re going to have a baby. When do you get to find out the sex?”

“I think about at 20-ish weeks.”

“And have you started thinking about names yet?” Jaehyun strokes his thumb over your knuckles. 

Before you can answer him, Yuta appears, perching himself on the arm of the chair beside Jaehyun. “What are we talking about?”

“The baby,” Jaehyun answers, “and if she has any names that she’s thinking about.”

“You should definitely give the baby a Japanese name,” Yuta teases. “Since I’m probably the father.”

Jaehyun’s head turns so fast that you’re surprised you don’t hear his neck crack.  “Why do you think that?” The look he gives Yuta is so sharp, the glare so powerful, you just hide your face against Jaehyun’s neck, trying to soothe him with some physical attention. So much for working on his jealousy. It looks could kill, Yuta would be six feet under. 

“I’m just joking, Jaehyunnie.” Yuta pats the younger man’s hair. “But one of the fourteen of us is the father, and considering how often you sit out and just watch the rest of us fuck her, I’d say your odds are pretty low.” Yuta says that with a smile on his face, but Jaehyun frowns and slaps Yuta’s hand away.

“Oh, knock it off, both of you.” You place a kiss lightly on Jaehyun’s neck, and put your hand on his head, comb your fingers soothingly through his hair. “I literally slept with every single one of you right around the time that this Little Blob was made, so therefore, it really could be any of you. And, about names, I don’t think I’m really going to choose until after the baby is born. It’ll be my choice.”

“How are you going to choose which of us goes with you to have the baby?” Yuta asks.

“Maybe I won’t take any of you along.” You tease. “Maybe it’ll just be me and my mother. Speaking of which, I still haven’t told them.”

Jaehyun freezes then turns to look at you slowly. “What do you mean you haven’t told them yet? Aren’t you, like, twelve weeks along? Babe, you need to tell your parents.”

You know that, you completely agree that you need to tell them. But you know they’re going to ask who the father is, that they’ll definitely judge you harshly when you tell them that you don’t know who the father is, and they won’t understand if you attempt to reassure them that it’s okay that you don’t know who the father is because you know that it’s for sure one of your fourteen boyfriends, because your parents likely will disapprove of that too.

“You can tell them I’m the father, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Jaehyun says softly, tipping his head gently against yours. 

You bite your lip. “Thank you. That would help, for sure, but also, like you said, I’m twelve weeks along. My mother will be pissed that I waited so long to tell her.”

Yuta shrugs. “Tell her that you just found out. It’s not like you’re showing. So you say that you’ve been feeling weird, and you finally went to the doctor to get checked out, and found out you’re pregnant.”

“Just text her, tell her you’re pregnant, and that you don’t want to answer a lot of questions.” WinWin appears behind the chair, leaning forward to rest his chin on his hands. “At least you can tell your parents that you’re adding a grandchild to the family now. One of us is going to have to wait to tell our family about the baby until after it’s born when we find out who the father is.”

You hadn’t thought about that either. 

“I’m sorry,” you apologize, resting your head again on Jaehyun’s shoulder.

“Don’t apologize for that.” Yuta stands up. “It’s not like it’s your fault.”

“Time to eat!” Johnny shouts as he comes through the door, carrying a platter piled with grilled meat. You catch a whiff of it.

Covering your nose, you shake your head. “I can’t deal with that.” Johnny catches sight of your face and whisks the plate back outside, not that it takes the smell with it, and your stomach rolls. “I’m going upstairs. I’m not hungry.” You pull yourself out of the chair and hurry up the stairs, gladly breathing the air up on the top floor that’s untainted by the smell of meat.

You shut yourself in the room you share with Taeil, and as you sit in the bed, your back to the headboard, you stare nervously down at the phone in your hand. 

It takes a few moments to build up your courage to finally press the contact for your mother, and you hold your phone up to your ear.

When she answers, you take a deep breath. “Hi, what are you up to?”

“Oh, nothing. Just watching your father try not to burn our meal.” She laughs, and you can hear your dad laughing in the background too. “What are you up to? Dinner plans tonight?”

Your heart pounds in your chest. “Um, no. Actually there’s something I want to talk to you and dad about.”

“Are you okay?” Your mother’s voice suddenly grows sharp, concerned.

“I’m fine. Definitely. Can you put me on speaker?” You wait a moment until your mother gives you a confirmation that she’s done just that. Your dad’s speaking over your mother, both of them with concerned tones that you finally silence by speaking over them even louder. “Do you remember me saying I’m seeing someone?”

You had, several months ago, told your parents that you were seeing someone after your mother had repeatedly tried setting you up with a young man that owned her favorite bakery. Up to that point you didn’t want to even tell them that you were seeing someone so they wouldn’t ask too many questions. You’d not given them many details, and they didn’t push. 

“Yes, we remember.” Your mother says.

“So, things have gotten pretty serious with him. Especially recently.” You can hear your voice shaking with nerves. This is not how you ever imagined telling your parents you were pregnant. You’d always thought that cute reveals to new grandparents were very entertaining videos to watch online, but now that you’re in this situation, you don’t think you could do it, not given the circumstances.

“Serious?” You father repeats. “How serious?”

You’re quiet for a few moments as you try to think of the best way to phrase it, but you wait so long that you mom says your name, checking to make sure that you’re still on the line.

“Um, so, I’m pregnant. About twelve weeks along, according to the doctor.”

“Twelve weeks?!” Your mother gasps. “Oh my! You’re pregnant! Honey, she’s having a baby! And your boyfriend... he knows? Is he excited also?”

“Do we finally get to meet the boy?” Your dad asks. “Now that he’s got a baby in you?”

Your mother hisses your dad’s name, and you hear her slap his arm. “But really, do we get to meet our future son-in-law?”

“Well, that’s another thing. Don’t.... I don’t want you to think that he and I are getting married now because of this.” You cradle the phone in your hands. “Nothing like that is set in stone. Right now, we’re just focusing on having the baby. And I suppose you should meet him.” But you’re not sure about that. It doesn’t seem fair for you to choose one of your boyfriends, one who may not be the father, and have him be the only man in this relationship that gets to meet your parents. 

“Oh, well, I suppose you’ve never been so much of a traditionalist, have you? So, it’s not terribly much of a surprise that you’re not necessarily going to marry him. But a baby! Our baby’s having a baby!” Your mother cries out in excitement. 

You spend the next half an hour to forty-five minutes talking with your parents, catching them up on moments in your life, talking about your pregnancy, dipping into details of how your mother’s pregnancy with you had gone. By the time you end the call, you feel much better, much lighter.

You feel as if the transformation happens suddenly. One day you look just as you have usually done, and then the next.... you’ve popped, the bump evident when you look in the half-fogged mirror of the bathroom.

You can’t help touching your belly, feeling the mound that certainly wasn’t there just weeks before.

“What are you doing?” Johnny asks, coming up behind you. He wraps his arms around you, hands covering yours on your belly. His skin is still wet and warm from the shower that’s still running in the background for you to step into. His hand is such a welcome presence, the heat of him against your bare skin. “You’re starting to show.”

You’re about fifteen weeks at this point, right in the timeline your doctor had told you that you might start showing. After that moment in the bathroom, you start wearing looser clothing, and just find it increasingly difficult to hide your pregnancy from anyone that you’d still been trying to keep it from, and your body is changing in a way that other people certainly take notice of.

“Shit, look at you, baby.” Mark whistles when he walks into the kitchen late one night, and he finds you standing beside the refrigerator with a midnight snack. You’re just wearing a pair of shorts and a low-cut camisole. Your belly standing out in evidence of the life inside of you, but you’re quickly made aware that that’s not exactly what Mark is pointing out.

He steps closer to you, and instead of touching your belly (as all the others have done as soon as they realized you were starting to show), Mark cups your tits.

“They’re bigger now.” His eyes are wide glued to your chest.

“Of course they’re bigger. Once this little blob comes out I’m going to have to feed it with these.” You nudge his hands away. “They’re not just toys for you all to play with, you know. They serve a purpose.”

Mark smiles at you and kisses your cheek. “I know, baby.” He tucks his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants, and he stands there watching you eat, apparently entirely forgetting the reason that he entered the room himself. It’s quiet for a moment before Mark finally asks, “When’s your next appointment? Don’t you get to learn the sex of the baby soon?”

You nod. “Soon. I’m not sure if I actually want to know what we’re having though.” You drop a hand down to touch your little barely-there bump. “I might want it to be a surprise.”

Mark steps closer again, and this time he touches your belly too. “This little angel’s going to be full of surprises for us, isn’t it?”

You push your fingers into Mark’s hair, enjoying having him so close to you and the way he melts into your touch. Mark’s eyes flutter shut as you comb your fingers through his hair, he leans his forehead down against yours.

“Mark?” Your voice is very quiet even in the silence of the kitchen. “Mark, what do you want from this?”

“What do you mean?” He murmurs, not pulling back from you at all, but staying right there with his eyes closed and his forehead against yours. 

“I mean, do you want to be the dad? Or are you secretly hoping it’s one of the others? Do you want it to be a boy or a girl? Do you think this is going to really fuck up this relationship?”

“I think if it was going to mess this up, it would’ve already done so, right?” He stands up straight again, putting a few inches of space between you. “We’re all still here, excited about the baby. Hell, even the others are excited and they’ve not got any DNA in the game.”

You know he’s talking about the younger members, the ones not in this relationship. They’ve all been excited and supportive too. You’d taken several exhaustion naps on the sofa between Renjun and Jeno; just the other morning as you’d been looking at a pregnancy book at the kitchen table, YangYang had sat down beside you and started asking you questions about it. Haechan swore that he’d be glad to help babysit in the future. You’d heard Chenle and Jaemin offering to take bets on the paternity of the baby.

“And I don’t know about being the dad,” Mark says, “I don’t think it matters too much to me one way of the other. I don’t mean that in a bad way! I feel like that sounded kinda bad, but like, if I am the dad then that’s awesome and I’m going to try my hardest to be the best dad I can be, but even if I’m not, I’ll still try my best to be here. But I guess it also depends how you want to raise the kid, like, fourteen dads? Or are those who aren’t the dad just going to be Uncles who occasionally share mommy’s bed?”

You wrinkle your nose at that. “That’s exactly what I mean, Mark. This relationship is going to change, and that’s scary. I don’t want this to change, I love how we all are together, but after this, then what?”

“Hey.” Mark cups your face between his hands. He tilts your face up toward his, and when he kisses you softly, almost chastely, for just that moment in time you forget your worries. “That’s a problem for when we get to it, but it’s miles and miles away in the future. You don’t need to worry about that now, okay?” He kisses you again, and this time the kiss isn’t so sweet or tender. 

Your midnight snack is entirely forgotten on the counter beside you. Mark envelops you--his smell and his taste, the heat of his skin against yours-- and you lift your hands to his arms, first touching his wrists up near your face, and then your fingertips dance down his forearms, resting for a moment against his elbows as Mark twists his fingers into your hair, tilting your head to a better angle as your mouth opens to his, and you gasp quietly. 

His tongue touches yours, springing another moan from you, and Mark smiles, his fingers tightening in your hair. 

It doesn’t take much more kissing than that to have you craving a midnight snack of a different sort. The hunger grows inside you, the heat building, and soon you can feel your shorts are damp with arousal and your fingertips itch to undress Mark, your body aching with the need to have him inside you.

“Mark,” you mumble, planning to ask him to fuck you, but your hands are already moving. Your hands drop from where you’ve been holding onto his arms, instead gripping the bottom hem of his shirt which you tug at until your fingertips find skin instead. 

Mark groans, feeling your cool skin against his. And when your fingertips move across his abdomen, quickly dipping inside the waistband of his sweatpants, Mark inhales sharply, breaking the kiss for a moment, just to ask, “Here?”

You nod. “Yeah, why not?”

That’s good enough for him.

Mark dives back into the kiss, making little noises of contentment as you push his sweatpants lower, as you dip your hand inside his boxers, wrapping your hand around his cock. It doesn’t take long for him to start chubbing up in your hand.

“Mm, baby,” Mark pulls out of the kiss, his hands shaking to detangle his fingers from your hair, and his hands fall to your hips instead. Mark lifts you carefully up to sit on the edge of the countertop you’ve been leaning against, and now you’re at the perfect height to spread your legs and pull his cock free of his boxers to rub at the already damp fabric over your pussy. 

You remember the time you almost did this with Kun in here. Things got hot and heavy with him, but the younger boys were just in the other room, so you moved things upstairs instead. But tonight there’s no one around. Everyone’s either out or upstairs in their rooms. There’s nothing to stop you from having sex with Mark right here in the kitchen with the lights on and everything.

Mark thumbs the middle of your shorts out of the way as you keep jerking him off, rubbing the tip against the material, which he’s tired of, craving the direct wet heat of you on him.

“Fuck, baby, why aren’t you wearing any panties?” He almost whines. His thumb glides along your slit, and you shift forward, wanting to have him just slip his thumb inside you, but he pulls it away, putting his hand back to the safe distance of your thigh. “That’s dirty. Looking so sexy already with your belly growing and your tits too, then no panties either. Shit, it’s like you knew this was going to happen.”

“Maybe I’ve just been hoping.” You lean in, capture his lips in a brief kiss, and then say, “You’ve all been so careful with me. I don’t get fucked nearly as much as before, and while this pregnancy has messed with my sex drive a bit, I do still want to have sex, I just think you all should know that.”

“So no panties because you’re horny, hoping to entice one of us into fucking you?” Mark grins crookedly, looking down at your pussy, which you finally bring his cock closer to, and you dip his tip against your clit, moving it in circles.

You smile and try to stifle a moan.

“Do you want it?” Mark asks you.

“Yes, Mark,” you sigh, and you guide his cock to where you need him most, and Mark lifts a hand to tilt your mouth up to meet his once more. 

Mark enters you smoothly, slowly, in one thrust. Your toes curl at the slow feeling, the stretch and glide, the way that you’ve barely had anyone touch you in weeks, since Jungwoo, probably. You don’t think you’ve been with another one of them since him, not having one of them inside you like this--just you helping them out with a blowjob maybe and then possibly a bit of fingering, but most of them were still treating you like some fragile porcelain doll--and that was probably a month and a half ago when you were with Jungwoo, the last time you’d had one of their dicks inside your vagina.

“Oh, fuck,” Mark groans. “I swear you’re tighter than normal.”

“Shh,” you shush him, laughing as you try to kiss him quiet. “It’s been a couple weeks since I’ve had more than a finger or two inside me.” 

Mark moans, deepening the kiss, silencing you as he thrusts slowly, each push of his cock deeper inside you feels incredible. 

You both take it slow, in no rush to get off right now, it’s just good enough to have him inside you, to kiss him, and Mark seems to feel the same. Kissing and hands slipping under clothes, just touching, hips rolling, everything slow and warm and you feel so wet, growing wetter with each glide of Mark’s cock inside your pussy, pants and moans rising in frequency. 

Your goal isn’t to cum, just to have Mark so close to you, but soon there’s no denying that you’re both getting close. It’s been too long since either of you had this kind of sexual release. Mark’s thrusts start to grow faster, sloppier, and he pants against your lips, “Can I cum inside you? What about---?”

“It’s fine, Mark.” You gasp, dropping your head back. “Please, I want to feel it.”

Happy to oblige you, Mark ducks his head to kiss at your neck. His hand sinks to the apex of your thighs, his thumb tracing quick, careful circles on your clit as he thrusts into you, chasing his quickly rising high. The sound of your breathy sighs and moans, soft whimpers of his name, all seem to drive him on, and you cum just moments before him.

“Mark, fuck!” You gasp. You clutch at his shoulders, holding yourself close to him as the sensation pulses through your body, dragging Mark into his orgasm as well. He bites down on the juncture of your neck and shoulder, muffling his moans as he spills inside you, his cum making you feel warm and full, and you don’t want to move from right here like this, just want to stay here with Mark inside you, close as he can be to you, his body pressed fully against yours, your baby bump against his belly.

You don’t want to move, and you probably wouldn’t have for quite some time, but suddenly there’s the tapping sound of someone jogging down the stairs. 

Mark pulls away from you, stuffing his cock back inside his sweatpants, and he reaches out to tug your shorts back into place. He even rearranges your hair so it falls over your shoulders, hiding the mark he’d just sucked on your throat. And then he steps away, leaning against the stove and pretending to study a box of cereal someone had left out.

WinWin walks into the room, his eyes puffy from sleep. He yawns as he looks between the two of you, walking across the room toward you to reach the sink. 

“Were you just messing around in here?” He asks, opening a cabinet door to pick out a glass. “Because that’s gross. We all eat in here.”

He looks away as he fills the glass with water. Mark’s eyes go faux-innocently wide, and he opens his mouth, prepared to give some excuse.

You cut him off. “You’re one to talk, Dong Sicheng. Are you forgetting the time I rode you right over there at the kitchen table? You weren’t so concerned about this being a place where we eat then. I’m pretty sure I remember you specifically pulling me into your lap and telling you that this is where we eat, so you wanted to eat me.”

WinWin coughs, almost choking on the water. Mark laughs loudly.

You smile at them both, and then push off the counter, landing on your feet, and you wrinkle your nose at the feeling as a bit of Mark’s cum begins to trickle down your thigh. WinWin reaches out to you, as if worried that the look on your face is due to some discomfort of the baby.

“I’m fine. Don’t worry.” You walk the few feet over to Mark, kiss him, and then you turn to WinWin, kiss him as well, and turn to walk away, calling back over your shoulder, “Good night!”

Their returned well-wishes of sweet dreams follow you upstairs as you crawl into Hendery’s bed. 

He stirs a bit when you slide in beside him. He fell asleep watching videos on his phone, and the phone’s laying facedown on his chest, the edge of it still outlined from the light of the screen, so you move it off, rolling back to the side of the small bed to plug his phone in before you re-situate yourself on your side, and Hendery moves up to spoon you from behind.

He murmurs your name sleepily and drapes his arm over you, nuzzling his nose against your neck before he falls immediately back to sleep. And you soak in the warmth of his bed, his body curled against yours, wishing you could fall asleep, but somehow you just can’t.

You stay awake, staring at the shadows in the room, praying for sleep to claim you as it’s claimed Hendery behind you, Xiaojun across the room. 

Nothing.

You hear footsteps climbing the stairs up to the floor above, hear the creak of movement, and then the closing of a door. A few moments later, the door to this room opens as well. The dim glow of a nightlight in the bathroom down the hall casts a streak across the room, right over you in Hendery’s bed.

“Sorry,” WinWin whispers as he comes inside, tiptoeing. “Did I wake you up?”

“I wasn’t sleeping. I can’t sleep.” 

WinWin sits on his bed, and in the darkness, you can just barely make out the shape of his shadow patting his bed. “You can come over here. I can help you fall asleep.”

You don’t see what he’s going to do to help with that, but you carefully extract yourself from Hendery, tiptoe across to WinWin’s bed, and slide in with him.

He props himself up against the headboard with a few pillows, and then you feel him draw you in, resting your head on his chest, leaned back against him. His cheek rests against your head, an arm casually curled around your waist, his hand touching your belly, and he whispers, “I think we just need to tire out that busy mind of yours. What is it that you’re thinking about? Tell me?”

So you start talking, telling WinWin in whispers all of these worries and wonders in your head. Concerns for the future, for the state of this relationship, how they’ll all react when the day comes that you do find out which of them is the father because you’ve long since accepted that you have to find that out, though you had briefly entertained the idea of just not doing any paternity test at all. You talk to WinWin until you’re certainly tired out, or at least your voice is.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize then. “You’re probably tired, aren’t you? But I just keep talking.”

WinWin mumbles something that never quite makes its way to words. Then, “It’s fine. You need to sleep too, though. Aren’t you tired yet?”

Not quite.

“Alright then.” WinWin sighs and shifts his head, his lips right beside your ear, and he starts singing to you quietly in Chinese. The song is familiar, but you can’t place it; it’s a relaxing tune, and WinWin’s deep voice works wonders, lulling you into such a state that you don’t even notice when exactly you fall asleep.

One moment you’re awake in his arms, and then you’re dreaming.

You’re walking down the hallway, passing by the door to Lucas, Ten, and Kun’s room, climbing the stairs, you walk along until you reach a door just beyond Taeil’s room. A faint golden light outlines the door which looks shiny and new, recently installed, and from behind the door you hear the cries of a baby.

Your heart leaps in your chest.

Just a touch of your fingertips, and the door opens on a nicely decorated nursery -- creamy white walls and gauzy curtains decorated in stars and moons, a crib is tucked in the corner under a gently spinning mobile, and that’s the source of the crying. 

The baby’s crying. Your baby. You walk closer, and making shushing noises as you approach, you look down into the crib and see your baby.

But it’s not only one baby. There are multiple babies, a whole row of them side-by-side, waving angry fists up at you. A baby wrapped in blue with Johnny’s face. Another that looks like Yuta. A little girl who has Hendery’s big brown eyes, one that looks exactly like Taeyong.

You blink.

There’s only one baby, cooing up at you happily with an undeniable resemblance to ---

You wake with a jolt. WinWin, still curled there together with you, strokes his fingers over the back of your hand, mumbling something in his sleep to comfort you. In the dark, you stare at his face in front of you, but all you can see are the faces of the little babies in your dream.

You shift closer, pressing your face against WinWin’s chest.

At work, you try to avoid talking about your pregnancy. Not an easy thing to do when many of your coworkers are women, including older women who just want to offer up advice based on their own pregnancies. And they’ve all got so many questions: how far along you are, who’s the father, are you still dating that guy who came to briefly visit you once so many months ago, are you learning the gender, and many more questions.

You can’t help thinking about that dream again and again.

Previously, you didn’t think you really wanted to know the sex of the baby until the birth. But after that dream, you can’t stop thinking about it. 

Sometimes you’ll find your mind wandering back to that dream or mulling over what you think you’re going to have. And after your coworkers repeatedly asking you who the father is, you keep thinking about that too, trying to run through your mind the encounters you’d had with your boyfriends around that exact time that this Little Blob was conceived. The younger boys are actually taking bets on which of your boyfriends is the father, whether it’s going to be a boy or girl, and all sorts of silly bets.

And it’s not only them; the last time you spoke to your mother she was making guesses on gender based on family history and invasive questions into your sex life, which she’d followed up with an inquiry about meeting the father-to-be that you’d edged out of by feigning an incoming call from your doctor.

But you know you can’t put it off forever. At some point your parents are going to want to meet the man who impregnated their daughter. You just have to choose one of the possible men to introduce to them. 

“I wouldn’t mind, I don’t think.” Xiaojun tells you late one morning.

The house is quiet. When you left Taeil’s room this morning as he woke to go to Inkigayo, you sat downstairs in the kitchen, drinking a morning glass of water and taking a handful of recommended prenatal vitamins, watching as half of the house cleared out, your boys going off to work. 

You were excited, getting to see them work in different combinations than normal. 

After they’d all left, piling into multiple vans, it’d just been you, Xiaojun, Jisung, Haechan, YangYang, and Taeyong left in the house. Haechan and Jisung were firmly shut inside their room, probably not likely to wake until at least the afternoon, and YangYang was similarly probably sleeping. Not that any of them would give you the company you wanted. 

Sure, you enjoyed hanging out with the younger members, playing games and watching movies, and teasing them endlessly. But you didn’t want to just be entertained, you didn’t want to just go back to sleep now that you were awake. 

You were horny.

You’d been dreaming nicely up until the moment that Taeil jerked awake at the sound of their manager’s voice calling from the doorway. It was a rude awakening, considering how just a second before you’d been in the midst of sucking off Doyoung while sitting on Jaehyun’s face, having the absolute time of your life. But the dream had faded in moments, leaving you with only the ache between your thighs, the heat that needed to be quenched. 

So now, with all of the others gone, you were left with three choices. One, you could just take care of it yourself, which is the least fun option. Your second option was Taeyong, but you knew he had only dragged himself home from the studio a couple hours ago because he’d climbed into bed with you and Taeil, snuffling and clingy, just wanting a cuddle. A third option was Xiaojun, an eager, always good option.

So you went to Xiaojun’s room.

He was awake on his phone, and the sight of you in his doorway brought a smile to his face. You stepping inside and closing the door behind you made him smile brighter and start to sit up in bed. And when you reached down and pulled the long shirt of Lucas’s you’d stolen to sleep in over your head, Xiaojun’s smile melted into liquid desire pooling in his eyes. 

“I’m horny, Dejun. Please help me.” You drop the shirt on the floor, and in seconds you’re on your back in Xiaojun’s bed, his mouth hot on your skin, lips on your breasts then your stomach, taking his time trailing slow kisses over your increasingly noticeable bump. And then he’s on your thighs, kissing, nipping, and when he licks at your pussy, your body glows with lust and pleasure.

Xiaojun performs oral sex right then like he’s going to be graded on it. Soon you’re shaking in his bed, thighs closing around his head, hips rocking against his face, and Xiaojun just keeps licking until you whine and whimper his name, knotting your fingers in his hair. He moves quickly up to kiss you.

You stay like that, kissing as the morning passes by outside, soft kisses that turn hot and passionate with your hand down the back of Xiaojun’s sweatpants as he grinds against your thigh, kisses getting softer as you spread your legs for him to fit between them and push his sweatpants down just enough that he can thrust into you. And it’s slow, soft and lazy sex in the haze of the golden rays of sunlight shifting across his sheets from the window above his bed. 

Xiaojun cums and uses his fingers to get you off, and then keeps kissing you even as he rolls off to the side, holding you there in his bed even though you both feel gross and sticky sweaty. 

The kissing tapers off eventually. He holds one of your hands, and your other hand absentmindedly goes down to your belly, and you start talking about the appointment you have in next week where you can finally find out the sex of the baby, and how your mother wants to come, and she wants you to bring your boyfriend.

“I’m serious,” Xiaojun says. “I wouldn’t mind if you wanted to introduce me as the representative for all of us. Your singular boyfriend, father of your baby.”

You look at him out of the corner of your eye.

Xiaojun smiles and hides half of his face in his pillow. “I think I’m probably not the dad, like, it’s just a feeling I have, but who’d be better to meet your parents than me? I’m nice, polite, handsome, funny, smart. Not to mention modest.”

You laugh and push at his shoulder, and Xiaojun dramatically rolls away and then stands up off the bed. 

He looks down at you, still smiling. “And also, I think one of us should be there with you at that appointment. I think one of us should always go with you, because you need the support, it’ll be nice, right?”

“I don’t know. I cried when I first heard the heartbeat.” You sit up and look down at your belly. “Pretty sure several of you would have teased me about that.”

“Pretty sure several of us would have cried right along side you. You played us that recording of the heartbeat.” Xiaojun shakes his head. “Maybe you weren’t paying attention, but there was quite a bit of excitement and emotion that day among all of us.” He reaches down and strokes his thumb along your cheek. “Just think about it. I’m gonna go eat, do you want some?”

You don’t, so you stay there wrapped only in Xiaojun’s sheets and mentally draft up a conversation to have with your boys.

You put it up to the boys to decide which of them would accompany you to your next appointment at eighteen weeks, and who will also be the one to meet your parents. 

“Whether you vote or play rock paper scissors or draw straws or something, I don’t care, as long as you’re all aware that it’s perfectly fair no matter who wins. I don’t want any of you feeling jealous, like I’m playing favorites or anything ridiculous like that.” You gave them this task right before you walked out the door to go grab dinner with some friends, hoping that by the time you arrived home later, they would have the answer.

Dinner was great. Since starting the relationship with the guys, you’d seen less and less of your friends just because it was a full-time kind of thing being with multiple boyfriends, plus it was difficult having this love life and not being able to openly talk about it with friends for various reasons such as being in a fifteen-person relationship was not at all common and also because your fourteen boyfriends were idols who could have their careers damaged if word of your relationship with any one of them got out.

Your friends were excited to see you and your not-so-little-anymore baby bump. They’d seen what you’d posted on social media -- the sonogram photo when you decided to finally post about the pregnancy, Snapchats and Instagram stories complaining about the woes of morning sickness and other symptoms -- and it was really great to catch up with your friends, and by the end of the night they were already telling you that they couldn’t wait for the baby shower.

“And we can’t wait to meet your baby daddy!” One of them cries, flinging her arm around your shoulder in a one-armed hug. “Like, you’re dating him right? You’re always so secretive with your love life; I can’t remember if you were dating someone, or was this just like a fling kind of thing?”

“Yeah, who is he? When can we meet him?” Another says.

You look around at your friends. “He’s just really private. But, yes, we’ve been dating for several months. But it’s also kind of complicated.”

“Complicated? Does he not want the baby?”

“Complicated and he’s private? What, is he an idol or something?” One laughs, and everyone bursts into laughter. You try to laugh along, but then you catch the eye of one of the girls and quickly look away. She’s been with you the time that you ran into Taeyong in public while you were broken up; you wonder if she’s thinking of him.

Another friend gasps, “Oh my god. Bitch, he better not be married!”

You try not to look like you’re caught in the spotlight, but you definitely are. “He’s not married!” Is the first answer you can think to give them. “And, no, it’s not that he doesn’t want the baby. He’s very excited, I mean, like, they’re excited.”

That raises several eyebrows. One of your friends nearly chokes on her drink.

“They? Like personal pronoun they or they, as in like, multiple people they?” One friends seeks clarification, and you take a deep breath and stare down into your water glass at the ice cubes clinking together before you give her the quiet confirmation of “multiple people.”

There’s giggles and teasing catcalls from around the table. You feel on fire, like you’re being roasted alive, and even gulping down the cold water doesn’t really help. There’s a fluttery feeling in your belly, so you lay a hand over it and just swallow down another mouthful of water, hoping to quell the nerves of having all of their attention on you after admitting this.

The friend beside you who’d been hugging you, squeezes your shoulders in what is probably meant to be a comforting motion. “So do you know which one of them is the dad?”

You shake your head. “No, but it doesn’t really matter. Like, they’re all excited and this relationship has been going on for a while. It’s serious, and I do love them, and it’s very unconventional, like super unconventional, but I’m happy.”

“That’s all that matters, isn’t it?” One of them says. “You’re happy and in love and having a baby! Damn, I wish I could be so blessed.”

After that the topic turns away from you and your love life for a bit, and you’re glad for that, but you’re also glad to have opened up just a tiny bit about the relationship. To have finally told someone that you’re in an unconventional relationship that includes more than two people, though you’re sure your friends think that it’s probably just you and two boyfriends, and you truly don’t feel like enlightening them any more. But it’s nice to have put it out there.

And when you do get home later, with a box of dessert that Ten had texted you begging you to bring home about halfway through your dinner, you find that half of the boys are still sitting around the table in the kitchen debating, but a handful of them are sitting in the living room.

Mark is sitting on the sofa with his laptop, Chenle leaning his head on Mark’s shoulder. Ten is in the armchair with Miso tucked in the nest of his legs. Hendery laying on the floor, his chin propped up on his hands, and Yuta’s sitting right beside him, watching a soccer match on the TV. Haechan, Jisung, and Jeno are also sitting on the second sofa, slouching down on the cushions, either on their phones or also watching the game.

You look around at them, before you glance toward the doorway into the kitchen.

“We lost,” Ten explains to you. “They’re still deciding.” He strokes Miso’s head, and then looks up at you, squinting in faux-anger, “You know, it was pretty rude of you to put us at odds with each other like that, and then you dip out to a fancy fun dinner with your friends. And did you even bring us anything tasty to eat?” 

You stick out your tongue at him and pull the box out from behind your back. 

“Do you think I don’t love you or something?”

When you hold it out to him, Ten eagerly reaches for it, but you pull it back quickly. 

“You have to share it, you know.”

Ten whines, but nods, and as you start to hand it over again, Kun sweeps in out of nowhere, and takes the cake, then brushes a kiss on your cheek. Chenle laughs loudly, watching all of this, especially when Ten snatches the back of Kun’s shirt and jerks him back, nearly tumbling him into Ten’s lap on top of your poor cat.

Miso bristles and flees Ten’s lap to the comparative safety of the stairs where he begins grooming himself and glaring at the ruckus below. 

You end up with Kun and Ten squeezed together in the chair, you perched on Kun’s lap with the box of dessert open in your lap, the three of you taking turns with a single fork. Your feet rest in Yuta’s lap on the floor, and after a bit, he leans over and rests his head against your knee, his actions sleepy but his eyes are wide awake following the moves of the players on the screen. 

You can’t seem to relax, nervously glancing toward the kitchen doorway every few minutes. And thinking about who it’s going to be, which of them is going to be the one to meet your parents, to come to your appointments with you, it makes you nervous. While you sit there you feel flutters in your belly multiple times, and that just makes you feel even more nervous.

When the other boys finally come out of the kitchen, Taeyong whines, seeing the nearly finished dessert in your lap, and he comes over to beg a bite.

“What did you decide?” You ask him as Taeyong takes the box from you and settles on the arm of the chair. “Which of you is it? Whose egos do I need to soothe?”

“Probably Jaehyun,” Taeyong mumbles around the cake. “He’s pouting.” He jerks his head toward the other side of the room, and you follow the move just to see Jaehyun standing behind the sofa where Mark and Chenle are sitting. Jaehyun’s got his arms folded across his chest, his jaw tense, his eyes deadset on the TV, though you can tell he’s not actually watching the game. 

Taeyong clears his throat and whispers, “Johnny won; we figured he’d be the best in these situations. He’ll charm your parents for sure, and he’ll be good at the appointment too.”

You catch Johnny’s eye as he comes around the sofa to sit down beside Chenle. He immediately starts tickling Chenle’s sides until he’s squirming and making loud squawking laughs while Johnny just laughs at him and calls him cute.

Eventually Yuta lifts his head from your knee to shush them, his eyes still glued to the screen as one of the teams makes a goal. You look over at Johnny again as he’s petting Chenle’s hair while the younger settles back down. And then you look up at Jaehyun. WinWin’s now standing beside him, his arm slung around Jaehyun’s shoulders, and they whisper to each other, but after a moment Jaehyun seems to feel you watching them, and he catches your eye with a sweet smile.

“How do I look?” Johnny asks, nervously tugging at the collar of his shirt. You’re about to leave for the appointment, and as you sit on Johnny’s bed watching him get ready, you fight down your own nerves. 

“Handsome. As usual.” You sigh, fluttering your hands over your belly. “What about me?”

You push up to your feet, standing right before Johnny. He smiles warmly, a hand sneaking around to the small of your back, and you step just a bit closer to him. 

“Sexy as always,” Johnny says with a grin. “Pretty and cute and beautiful too. If your mother looks anything like you, I can’t wait to meet her.”

Yes, the source of all your nerves. Johnny meeting your mother. Your mother coming to your appointment with you both. And then there’s the late lunch you’re having afterwards with Johnny, your mother, and your father. 

“Hey, don’t be so nervous, sweetheart.” Johnny cups your face in his hands. “I’m great with parents. By the time we come home later, they’re going to absolutely love me, we’re going to know if you’re having a girl or a boy, plus we have a little surprise the others should have ready for you by the time we’re home.”

Now, that makes you more suspicious than nervous.

Typically you don’t have a good history of your boyfriends trying to surprise you with things. Seven times out of ten the surprise ends up being an orgy, and the other three times out of ten are just a failure on their part. So as you and Johnny walk out of the house, you watch the others suspiciously, such as when Taeil kisses you on the cheek as you pass him on the stairs, when Renjun pipes up from the sofa to tell you that they’ll all be anxiously waiting to see who has won the first of their series of bets, and when Doyoung hurries up from behind you to give you a few words of luck and calming for the appointment and for introducing Johnny to your parents.

“Thank you, Doyoung.” You press up on your toes to meet him for a brief kiss. “See you later!”

As you turn to follow Johnny, Doyoung’s hand falls reluctantly from your arm, and you look back at him to offer him a reassuring smile because he’s pouting.

“Doyoung also really wanted to come with you today,” Johnny tells you a few minutes later. “Him and Jaehyun were really duking it out there toward the end of our debate. Both of them were pretty pissed when I was the one who was decided on.” 

You don’t know what to say to that. If it were possible, you would happily bring every single one of your boyfriends, but that is neither practical nor realistically something that your parents would ever possibly approve of. Your parents are not like your friends; your friends think it’s different and sexy that you’re in a relationship with more than one man, but your parents would think that something like that is disgusting and wrong and would certainly try to influence you to choose just one of them.

So you fall into this rabbit hole of thinking, and it’s not until Johnny puts his hand on your thigh, squeezing slightly as he says, “We’re here,” that you snap out of your thoughts.

You’re at the doctor’s office, and when you look up through the windshield of the car, you can see your mother standing beside the door into the office, somewhat awkwardly smiling at passersby, looking nervous as well.

“This will be wonderful, okay?” Johnny reassures you. “Are you ready?”

You nod, and then push the car door open.

The moment that your mother sees you, her face lights up, and then her eyes fall down to your belly, the definite mound of your belly, and she breaks into a smile so wide that you think she also might start crying.

“Oh, my baby!” She pulls you into a hug. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m good, Mom. Taking good care of myself and the baby, with some help of course.” You pull out of the hug and turn to Johnny. He’s standing a few feet back, not wanting to intrude on the moment with your mother, but when you hold out a hand to him, he steps forward. 

The second his fingers interlace with yours, you feel confident and happy, and you turn back to your mother. “Mom, this is Johnny. My boyfriend.”

She looks at him. Looks him up. Looks him down. You can tell she’s analyzing everything about him, filing away little details that you’re sure she’ll want to discuss with you later. 

And then Johnny holds his hand out to her. “Johnny Suh, ma’am. It’s great to finally meet you. I was just telling her this morning that --” You elbow him sharply in the side and glare at him, not wanting him to finish that sentence calling your mother hot. He laughs, and holds his hand out to your mother again. She shakes his hand, still watching him appraisingly.

“It’s nice to meet you too, finally. She’s always been secretive about relationships, but I think this is the longest we’ve ever had to wait to meet someone she’s dating.” Your mother glances at you. “Why’ve you kept this one a secret?”

“He’s too charming for his own good sometimes. Come on, let’s get inside.”

As you sit in the waiting room, nervously tapping your foot as you wait, you look around at the other women in the room. There are some whose bellies are huge, looking ready to pop at any moment. Some who aren’t showing at all. There’s one woman wrangling two toddlers along with her big pregnant belly, looking increasingly frustrated at the two children climbing over her and over and under the chairs. 

You don’t even notice that you’re shaking your leg so much until Johnny’s hand comes to rest on your knee. His voice is low, soft so no one else can hear it when he asks, “You okay?” 

“Fine. Just ready to find out.” You place your hand on his, and that’s when you notice your mother watching you very observantly. 

The three of you chat a little bit, and she tells you that your father is all ready to interrogate your boyfriend, especially since you’d given them no information about him. “She wouldn’t even tell us your name.”

“I can’t talk too much about us, you know. We’ve got to keep it a little bit of a secret.” You whisper to her. “Maybe you don’t recognize him, but he is an idol. Other people might recognize him, and we can’t let word get out.” 

Johnny’s wearing a mask and a hat now that you’re in the doctor’s office together, keeping his head down somewhat just on the off-chance that someone could recognize him. But now, with the way your mother is staring at him in surprise, you think it might draw some attention.

When you go to the restroom a few minutes later, leaving the two of them alone, you worry that you’ll come back to find things in a disastrous state, but to your surprise, after an extended bathroom break due to the number of others trying to use the single restroom available off the waiting room, you return to see them laughing and talking more comfortably with each other, and just a few minutes after that you’re called back to meet with your doctor.

Now, it’s not like the appointment jumps straight into finding out the gender of the baby, but that’s all the matters, all that you can focus on while you and your doctor talk, while she examines you, while your mother and Johnny sit nearby, but then it’s time and you’re on your back with your shirt pulled up over your belly and a technician spreading the cool gel over your belly.

You don’t remember reaching for Johnny’s hand, but suddenly you’re holding onto it while you look at the screen. Your mother’s leaning forward eagerly too, all three of you plus the doctor staring at the screen at the inside of your body, searching for your Little Blobby. 

“Ah, here we are.” The technician pauses for a moment, and you can hear the heartbeat inside you--not the one that belongs to you, but the second smaller one, the faster tiny one--and you can see it on the screen. 

“That’s the baby?” Johnny squeezes your hand and leans closer to see the screen more clearly. “That’s our baby?”

“It sure is.” The technician moves the device a bit more, trying to get a better view. “Is this daddy and grandma’s first time seeing the baby?”

“It is!” Your mother says excitedly. Her hand briefly touches your leg as she shifts closer to see as well. “It’s just too exciting to learn the baby’s gender, don’t you think? How could we miss the appointment for this?”

She’s right, you realize. It’s very important for the father of the baby to be there when you find out the baby’s sex. And as much as you love Johnny, you look back up at him right then, and you realize that he very well may not be the father of this baby. There are thirteen other men who it could be, and it’s not fair to rob them of this experience.

“Wait,” you say. The technician stops, and when she looks at you, you clear your throat. “I don’t think I want to know today. If you can just, like, write it down and put it in an envelope?

“Honey, what?” Your mother picks up your hand from where Johnny’s just dropped it. “You don’t want to know today?”

You shake your head. One look at Johnny shows you that he’s a little bit hurt, but that he understands the thought process behind this decision. He wanted to be the special one here with you for this momentous step in your pregnancy. But worse than Johnny is your mother. She wants to be here for this. 

“We can have a reveal party, Mom. I thought I wanted to know today, but I just think it’ll be more exciting to be surrounded by family and friends, you know?” Well, by that you mostly mean with all of the potential fathers there as well.  “So, can you do that?” 

The technician happily agrees. “Of course, once I verify the sex of the baby, I’ll be glad to do that for you! Your little one isn’t exactly in the right position for this, but let me try to move around, see if I can get a better angle.”

Your mother sits back in her seat, folding her arms across her chest, seeming very disappointed, but Johnny stands right at your side and puts his hand on your shoulder. You meet his gaze, and Johnny smiles.

“What are you hoping for?” You whisper. “When you’ve thought before about having kids, what were you deep down hoping to have?”

“Honestly?” Johnny turns his attention back to the screen, though at the moment there’s truly not much to see. “Growing up, I was an only child, you know. I always wanted a little brother, and then when I moved here I found my little brothers. Mark and Haechan, Chenle, Jisung, the other kids. And I realized that boys are such a mess, such a chaotic hassle, but that’s easy for me to understand and handle.” Johnny’s voice dips lower as he says, “A boy. I hope you’re having a boy.”

Later that day as you and Johnny return home with a sealed envelope tucked safely in your purse, still filled with happiness from the success of the long lunch with your mother and father (who in the end both loved Johnny entirely and were very charmed by him), you just want to tear open the envelope and share the news with all of the boys inside. It’s been hours since the appointment, Johnny had kept up conversation with your parents, and then he’d insisted on stopping to grab some stuff from the store on the way home. 

By the time you walk through the door of the house, you’re buzzing with nervous excitement. You want to tear open that envelope to find out the sex of the baby, dive into the bags of candy you’d begged Johnny to buy for you, and be with the men you love. But as soon as you’ve stepped out of your shoes and tucked them away in the entryway of the house, Johnny reminds you that the boys all have a surprise for you.

“We’re back!” He calls, taking you by the hand and leading you into the living room.

You leave the grocery bags sitting beside the sofa. The house is suspiciously quiet and still. You frown.

A voice calls down from somewhere high above. “Just a moment!”

“Johnny... What is the surprise? You know usually, it’s...”

“It’s not a sex thing, don’t worry.” Johnny places a soothing hand on your head. “A good surprise.”

“You can come up!” Another voice calls down, and Johnny leads you by the hand up the stairs. By the time you reach the top floor, you can hear that all of the boys are up here, not just your boyfriends but the younger boys too. And once you’ve climbed the last step, you can see them all gathered around in the hallway.

“Okay, seriously, what’s going on?”

“We have a surprise for you.” Taeil says, stepping out of his room and joining the others right in front of him. “Come here.”

Johnny lets go of your hand, and you walk forward slowly. You know that there’s no need to be suspicious of your boyfriends or the others, yet you can’t help it with them all being so mysterious. 

“We all worked really hard today,” Jaehyun explains to you. “We honestly weren’t sure that we’d have it ready by the time you got home, so we had Johnny distract you a bit longer.” You frown back over your shoulder at Johnny, but he’s smiling down at Ten who’s whispering something to him. Jaehyun continues, “But we did finish. And it’s for you.”

He steps forward and lays his hand on the door to Taeil’s room.

“What did you do?” You look around at all of them assembled around you. 

Tired of waiting, Yuta steps forward and pushes the door open. It’s not what you expected.

In place of the usual massive bed that occupied the space just earlier that morning is a more normal-sized bed. And, on top of that, it’s pretty, prettier than any boys room. 

You take a step inside and look around a bit more. The walls have been repainted--three of the walls in cream, one in a dark shade of green. The room’s been redecorated entirely, and then as you turn and take a look in the corner of the room you see a crib and an armchair, a dresser with a stuffed polar bear toy that you recognize from Doyoung’s bed sitting on top of it. 

“What is this?” You ask, then to Taeil, “Where will you sleep?”

“I moved down the hall.” Taeil grins. “We just thought that you need a space. For just you, for the baby.”

“You guys...”

You don’t know the exact moment when you start crying, but then you’re just suddenly in tears, bawling into the shoulder of whichever boy sweeps you first into a hug. They wrap around you, trying to comfort you, but you don’t exactly need comfort, you just need to outpour all of these emotions. 

“It’s lovely, thank you all.” You eventually manage to get the waterworks under control, and as you wipe at your tears, you lift your head, catch sight of the crib again, and you remember. “Oh, I forgot! Johnny and I, at the appointment, I decided I didn’t want to find out right away, not then. I felt like you should all be there when I find out. My mother wasn’t too thrilled with that, but we can have, like, a gender reveal party, with my parents, some friends.”

“A party? Here?” Doyoung asks, ruffling his hand through his hair. “When? It’s almost Christmas.”

“Next weekend? Do you think that’s too soon?” You look around at all of them. Ten and Taeyong glance at each other, looking doubtful. “It is too soon, isn’t it. What about the following weekend? The, what would that be, the thirteenth?” 

There’s murmurs around the room, the boys talking over their schedules, and after a few moments the general agreement is that they do have that day, for the most part, free for a party. 

“I’m hungry.” You groan, sinking down onto the edge of Kun’s bed.

He looks up from his phone, frowning in confusion. “Why did you come in here instead of just going to the kitchen?”

“Because I don’t want to go all the way downstairs.” You shift, trying to get more comfortable, but that’s easier said than done. 

“Oh, I get it.” Kun laughs. “You want me to go down there, make you something, and bring it back up here for you to enjoy?” 

“I wouldn’t say no to that.” You finally lay down on your back, pillowing your head on Kun’s arm. “But, mostly I came in here because I know you have snacks. And snacks, plus cuddling in your bed is always going to be much, much better than walking downstairs to the kitchen.”

Kun rolls his eyes playfully and sits up, moving around you and bending over the edge of his bed to get at his snacks. You shift around, getting comfy, and tell him “I’ve been craving something salty. This baby just wants salty food.”

“Well, this baby convinced you to come to the right place.” Kun sits up again, dropping a bag of perfectly salty snacks into your lap. He settles back into place beside you, and after a few moments filled only with the sound of you crunching on your snacks, Kun asks, “Do you really not know what the baby is? Boy or girl?”

You shrug. “We really didn’t find out at the appointment, if that’s what you mean.”

“No, I believe you. But what do you think it is? Or what are you hoping for?” Kun steals his hand into the bag in your lap. 

You shrug, stuff your mouth full so you can buy yourself some time to think.  

“I don’t think I really know. I had a dream a while ago, though, with a baby boy. But I think a girl would be good too. Little girls always have such cute clothes, and I know more about girls than boys. ”

“That’s what we’re here for, though. Me and the guys.” Kun puts a hand on your belly. “I want the baby to be a girl. I think raising a daughter, getting to spoil her, treat her like a little princess, that would be great.”

You snort. “No matter if this baby’s a boy or a girl, I’m sure it’ll be spoiled rotten by all of you. Chenle’s already bought a few things, he told me, and then I’ll never want for babysitters, with all of you around. But I don’t think I’ll be disappointed either way, boy or girl.”

“And what about names? Have you seriously thought about that yet?” Kun asks, once again dipping his hand into the bag, stealing away a handful of the snack. And because he’s Kun and avidly listening to you as you both relax and snack in his bed, you tell him all of the names you’ve been considering, he makes suggestions, you both fall off in a tangent about naming your child after characters from movies or dramas or books.

You’re still talking about it when Jaehyun peeks his head through the door. “There you are.” 

“Here I am.” You sit up a little in Kun’s arms. “Were you looking for me?” 

Jaehyun glances around the room before his narrowing eyes fall to Kun’s hand on your belly. “Yeah. I mean, no, not really. I was just... missing you. I didn’t need anything.” His hand flexes around the edge of the door.

“We were just talking about baby names,” Kun says. “And talking about what she wants the baby to be. Boy or girl.”

Jaehyun steps inside the room then, closing the door back behind him as he comes over to sit on the floor beside the bed. “Definitely a boy. An athlete.”

“You just want a mini-you.” You reach into the bag (which has drastically lost most of its contents since Kun first gave it to you) and toss a few pieces in Jaehyun’s direction. 

“No, I just want a sweet baby with you.” Jaehyun tosses it right back at you, then lunges up to kiss you briefly. You twist your fingers in the front of his shirt, holding on even as he backs away. “Yeah, I hope you’re having a boy, but I bet you’re hoping for a girl, aren’t you? Taeyong told me he’s hoping for a girl because he’s already watched a boy be raised with his nephew, and he just thinks a girl will be easier.”

He’s probably not wrong. You often hear about the hijinks and mischief of little boys, and you imagine any son of yours, raised in a house like this, would definitely be chaotic, an uncontrollable whirlwind. Though, you’re sure that due to the influence of all of these men, a daughter might turn out equally as mischievous.

Kun and Jaehyun begin playfully bickering back and forth about names, and you zone out a bit, only snapping back to reality when Jaehyun puts a gentle hand on your knee. 

“Sorry, I’m feeling tired.” You shake your head, and move, trying to push yourself to sit up. “I should get to bed. Growing a baby is tiring, and I have to work tomorrow.”

Kun reluctantly watches you leave his bed, but you kiss him before you go. Jaehyun walks with you upstairs to your door, and he leans against the doorway as you go inside, his hand quickly snatching yours to keep you there a moment longer. 

“Goodnight.” He smiles, a loose, easy, happy expression. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” You drape your arms over his shoulders, your hands tangle behind his neck, and you lean up to kiss him. Jaehyun smiles into the kiss, pushing it to be more than just a goodnight kiss, which you entertain for a moment longer. But you truly just want to sleep tonight, so you slide your arms from his shoulders, pressing your palm against his chest as you pull away.

“No,” Jaehyun moans greedily, giving you one, two, three more little kisses.

You bite your bottom lip and hold his gaze. Jaehyun’s warm eyes soak through you, heating you with a gentle radiant glow. Your stomach flutters, like the giddy butterflies you’d felt early on in this relationship.

“Goodnight, Jaehyun.” You pat his chest over his heart. “Love you, and I’ll see you in the morning.”

Jaehyun’s hand clings to yours, only slowly letting up his hold so your hand can slip out of his.  

“Go to bed,” you whisper at last, stepping inside and beginning to draw the door shut. “Go to sleep and dream about the baby. About me.”

Jaehyun laughs, steps close just one last time to kiss you, and then, as he pulls away, he murmurs, “You know I always dream about you.”

It doesn’t feel practical to be having a threesome when you’re twenty weeks pregnant, with a big round belly, yet that’s exactly what you find yourself doing.

Jungwoo and Hendery are goofing around together while the three of you are shopping together. Laughing, pushing each other, being loud enough that they draw attention to the three of you, but the weather’s recently turned very cold as the winter season truly takes hold in these days leading up to Christmas, so they’re covered up with hats and scarves, and Hendery’s wearing a mask as well as glasses. You find it unlikely that anyone could recognize them, but you continuously try to calm them down just in case.

You’re shopping for a few things to decorate your nursery, for some last minute Christmas presents,  and originally you’d intended to come alone or to ask your mother or some of your friends if they wanted to come along, but at the last minute, Jungwoo volunteered and Hendery said he also had a need to go shopping.

You’d done Hendery’s shopping first, which had perhaps been a mistake as he was now weighed down with his own bags of new clothes. The emptying of his wallet had been encouraged by Jungwoo who was in a very bright mood, and suggest that Hendery buy everything he tried on, from a large fuzzy Nike jacket to a beanie that had cat ears, and even an umbrella that Hendery commented was pretty as the three of you passed by the store selling it. And now that he had all of these things, Hendery was distracted, and neither of them were helping you find the store you were looking for while you walked.

“Jungwoo!” You whine, clutching his arm and clinging to him when you have to turn around because the two of them stopped to play-fight right in the middle of this shopping mall.

An older man sitting on a bench a few feet away watches them somewhat fearfully, but a small group of young girls who are clustered together in front of a makeup store are hiding their giggles behind their hands.

“Sorry,” Jungwoo laughs. “Hendery’s just so cute, I can’t help but play with him today.” He reaches over as if to pinch Hendery’s cheek, and that just starts them off again.

“Ya!” You cry out, slapping at whichever of them is nearest you. “Focus!”

This time it’s Hendery’s turn to apologize. “Sorry, sorry.” He dramatically moves about six feet away from Jungwoo, well out of arm’s reach. “I promise to be good for the rest of this shopping trip.”

“Please. I just want to finish up and then go home.” You curl a hand over your belly as you feel something like bubbles, almost like you’re feeling gassy. And you know the sooner you get home the better if that’s the case. You refuse to use a public restroom just because you truly can’t be sure of how clean it is, and the risk of infections freaks you out, especially now that you’re pregnant and have another being's health to worry about.

“Are you okay?” Jungwoo asks, stepping closer, the light mood gone in an instant, replaced with concern as he notices you touching your belly. 

“I’m fine, let’s just go so we can head home.”

After that, they’re both still somewhat goofy, but they stop messing around so much. Even as you’re in the baby store so you can find some cute decorations, Hendery sticks close to you, smiling awkwardly when another pregnant customer starts chatting with you about some things he’d rather not hear about.

But at some point in the chat she asks you, “How far along are you?”

“Twenty weeks.” You place your hand on your bump. “It’s crazy when I think about it, like, it doesn’t feel like it’s been that long since I found out.”

She smiles. “Yes, but you should definitely enjoy it while you can. I remember my first one. Experiencing everything for the first time. Feeling my son kick for the first time was the strangest but most wonderful experience. Have you felt your little one yet?”

“Oh, I’m not really sure.” You look down at your belly while Hendery and Jungwoo whisper to each other a few feet away, looking at a selection of baby shoes. “I definitely haven’t felt like a kick.”

The woman laughs. “I don’t expect you would at only twenty weeks. The baby’s probably still too small for you to feel a big kick yet. For me it felt like butterflies in my tummy at first. Just little movements, kind of like gas sometimes, honestly.”

“Really?” You rub your hand over your round belly, thinking back to that feeling just earlier, thinking back further a few weeks, feeling random bouts of what you’d thought were nervous flutters. But maybe they were more. “Then I think I have.”

Almost as if it knows you’re talking about it, you feel it again. That little ripple of movement inside you that could almost be mistaken as something else. You look up at the woman in front of you, probably wide-eyed with surprise, and a smile breaks across your lips. 

“Did you feel it?” She asks, her own smile rising to her lips.

“Yeah.” Quickly, you turn to your boyfriends. “Guys, I felt the baby move!”

They both reach for you at the same time, hands on your belly. The woman laughs, “They probably won’t be able to feel it yet. But soon. My husband first felt our son kicking through my belly when I was about twenty-five, twenty-six weeks.”

You hurry to finish up in the store, but you can’t stop touching your belly, can’t stop trying to feel the baby moving. By the time you’re back at the house, you can think of nothing else.

You take your purchases up to your room, and Jungwoo follows you.

“What does it feel like?” He asks, trying to put his hands on your belly again as soon as you’ve laid the bags down in the corner by the crib. 

“Just a little flutter.” You tell him, moving to lay down on your bed. You pull your shirt up, exposing your belly to the room. Jungwoo comes closer, sitting on the edge of the bed. There’s a soft knock on the door, and then it cracks open, Hendery comes inside, his eyes eagerly falling on your belly. “I agree with that woman earlier. You probably won’t be able to feel it yet. When I feel it, it’s not that strong yet.” You move your hand over your belly, thinking, this is so weird.

You knew that there was a baby inside you. Obviously. You’ve dealt with the morning sickness and the sore tits and everything else. You’ve watched and felt your body changing to accommodate this new life. You’ve heard the heartbeat and seen the sonogram.

But now you’d felt that life moving within you. And that was the realist thing yet.

“That’s amazing.” Jungwoo caresses your belly, leaning in to drop a kiss right below your belly button. “Do you remember what I told you that night, when we were in the living room after our date?”

“Hmm?” You sink back fully into the pillows and glance over at Hendery as he comes closer. 

“About finding you pregnant very, very sexy.” Jungwoo kisses your belly again. “Your belly, your boobs. This glow.” His hands slide along your thighs and you shiver. He turns his head to the side, looking up at Hendery then back at you as he says, “I just want to make you feel good, princess. You’re doing so much, you deserve to feel good.”

“I do, don’t I?” You smile, lifting your hips a bit to encourage him.

Another kiss to your belly. His fingers at the waistband of your pants. 

“What about me?” Hendery asks. “I want in, but I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t hurt her.” Jungwoo tugs your pants down from your hips, bringing your panties down too. “She’s not made of glass, and it’s not like she’s been abstinent since the baby was made. The baby’s going to be fine, she’ll be fine. Want me to show you how, Hendery?”

Hendery makes a face. “I know how to--”

“Then kiss her or something.” Jungwoo watches hungrily as you sit up just enough to pull your top over your head, then you reach back and unfasten your bra, and once that’s fallen away, you’re bare in front of the two of them.

“Your boobs.” Hendery groans lustfully. 

You feel Jungwoo’s lips hot on your belly, moving higher to the top of your bump. His hips drop against your leg, and you feel his erection, and when you reach for Hendery, wanting to drag him into a kiss, your fingers brush against the front of his pants, and he makes such a desperate sound, pushing his hips forward into your touch. 

Jungwoo nuzzles against your breasts, breath tickling along your skin. 

Hendery pulls his shirt over his head, sinking down to the bed with you, and his lips connect with yours in a messy, uncoordinated kiss as you plunge your hand down the front of his pants to touch him.

Hendery’s always easy like this, so easy to work up, to touch him and get him going quickly. 

You moan when Jungwoo touches you, slicking a finger between your folds, teasing. Hendery hurries to wiggle out of his pants, and his hand takes over from yours as he kneels up on the edge of the bed as soon as he’s free of the pants. Jungwoo flicks his tongue over one of your nipples and then sits up, kneeling back between your legs and looking at Hendery, then at you, then back at Hendery.

“Wanna suck you, Hendery,” you mumble, stroking down his thigh. His hand squeezes around his cock. “Please, you know I’ve missed your dick, the taste of you.”

“Fuck, princess, you’re wet.” Jungwoo enters you with two fingers, the glide easy because you truly are so wet right now. “Give it to her, Hendery. She’s clearly drooling for it.”

Hendery shifts forward on the bed, and you open your mouth for him. His eyes all but roll back in his head with pleasure as he sinks his dick between your lips. And while you’re distracted in getting Hendery’s dick wet, Jungwoo’s fat tip presses against your pussy, and with just a push, you stretch open around him, taking him in just as well as Hendery.

It feels so good to have them both inside you. It’s been months since you last got double-teamed; the boys are scared enough when having sex with you one-on-one, but doing it like this, the closest you’ve had to this was when rolling around with Xiaojun he’d given you his fingertips to suck on while he was inside you. 

“Oh, god.” Hendery moans.

You wrap your hand around him, and bobbing your head on him, focusing on just the tip, it’s easy to get him close. Hendery’s been without any action except for himself for so long, since at least a couple weeks before you realized you were pregnant. 

You drag his cock between your lips, push down once on him, taking him deep. You hungrily lick and suck, working your very best to get Hendery off while Jungwoo thrusts into you. 

Hendery’s cock falls from your lips, and his breath comes out raggedly as his hand jerks over his length, carrying him to his orgasm. You feel it splash warm across your chest and your chin, striped across your breasts. You moan, stretching up to wrap your lips around his tip again, licking, lightly sucking, and you snake a hand down your body to touch yourself, fingers on your clit as Jungwoo pulls out, running his hand over himself.

And when you feel his cock rub against your belly, you get what he’s doing. His kink for your pregnant body doesn’t end with just fucking you, he wants to cum on you, mark up your pregnant belly with his semen. 

“Jungwoo, Jungwoo, please!” You pant, sliding your own fingers inside yourself, trying to reach your orgasm. “Wanna cum!”

“Ah, baby.” Hendery pets your hair. “Want me to help you?”

You nod, already grabbing his hand, bringing it down your body, but his hand slows as it passes your belly, and before he can even touch you, Jungwoo swats his hand away. 

Jungwoo fucks back into you, his hands touching your belly, driving into you again and again. 

The orgasm shudders through you, powerful and good, and Jungwoo pulls out a second later, and his cum stripes across your swollen belly. Carefully, so as to avoid landing on you, Jungwoo drops off to your side and pushes his face into your pillow with a satisfied sigh.

Hendery disappears into the ensuite bathroom, emerging a few moments later with a damp cloth which he uses to wipe the drying cum from your chest, chin, and belly. He gently wipes between your legs, and then runs it once more over your belly. 

“That was the first time I’ve had sex in this bed.” You sigh, wiping your hand across your forehead, brushing away some hair. “Thanks.”

Hendery laughs. “Oh, anytime.” 

It feels very strange having your parents there in the house along with all of your boyfriends and the younger boys. If your parents think this is an odd location for your sex reveal party, they don’t comment on it. They don’t ask you why Johnny’s parents aren’t there. They certainly don’t ask why all of the older boys are eagerly introducing themselves to your parents, or question why your mother walks in on you holding Kun’s hand in the kitchen. 

If your parents find any or all of this strange, they don’t say a word, and for that you’re very grateful.

Because the day has finally come to learn the sex of your baby.

It’s been two weeks since the appointment, and Johnny has sworn up and down that he hasn’t looked at the envelope. He hid it away where no one would find it, so no one else would be tempted to open it until the party.

As you’d begun setting things up for the party the day before, cleaning the house, organizing, you’d entrusted one of the boys’ managers with picking up a gender reveal cake for you. She’d been supportive of your pregnancy since the boys had told their managers about it, so you trusted her to do it well.

And then there’s your friends. Your close group of friends who already had suspected your baby daddy to be an idol after that last dinner. It had started out as a joke, obviously, but as you wanted to invite them to the party, and after talking with the boys, you’d texted your group chat with your friends and told them that the father actually is an idol, you can’t say who, just that he is.

So naturally, after telling them and inviting them to the party, they were all asking you all over again who the father was, and you refused to tell them, just made them promise that if they came to the party, they wouldn’t talk about it. You didn’t want to ruin any careers over this pregnancy. And you trusted them a lot.

Having all of them here--you parents, your friends, your hoard of boyfriends, and the other members--was very odd.

Especially when you overheard Mark and Ten and YangYang giggling together about you inviting your parents to a sex party. “Sex reveal party! A reveal! Not a sex party.” You’d cried out in exasperation. 

 As everyone showed up to the party, they were dressed in either pink or blue, depending on whether they thought you were having a boy or a girl. It was interesting to finally see what each of your boyfriends thought as they emerged from their rooms wearing either color. 

“I just don’t own anything pink,” Taeyong tells you, tugging at the strings of his blue hoodie. “But I think it’s a girl.”

Your friends arrive in their various shades, the majority of them wearing blue. As soon as their eyes land on Mark, you hear gasps. 

“What the fuck, I knew it!” The friend that had been with you when you ran into Taeyong during your break wraps her arm through yours. 

“NCT?” Another of your friends cries, pulling you even closer into the midst of them. “The father of your baby is a member of NCT? How the fuck did you manage that? Why have you kept this a secret for so long?”

The hungry eyes and titters among a few of the girls is reason enough, you think. There’s a jealous flare in your belly as one of them tries to catch Lucas’s eye as he passes by wearing a gaudy pink sweater.

“It wasn’t easy, I promise you. Just, don’t flirt with them, okay?” You try to slip away, wanting to go hide in the balloon bouquet of blue, purple, and pink that someone had placed in the corner by the stairs. 

“What? You want to keep them all for yourself? Babe, that’s just not practical.” One of your friends laughs, and the others laugh too. You feel warm now because that’s exactly what you want; all of them for yourself. It might not be practical, but it is reality. “So which one of them is it? Which one are you dating?”

You praise the universe in the next moment when your mother comes over, all smiles and her second mimosa in her hand. “That Doyoung is so polite. Girls! You’ve made it! Goodness, when was the last time I saw you?” She pulls your friends into hugs, and in that time, you escape.

You sit down beside Jisung (in blue) and Ten (in pink) at the kitchen table where they’re picking through the snacks, nibbling and now watching your friends warily.

“How much do they know again?” Ten asks you.

You reach for his glass of water, gulping it down to calm yourself. “They know that one of you is the father, I haven’t given them any name or anything. I did, however, make them promise not to talk about being here today. God, I’m nervous.”

Ten covers your hand with his, squeezing gently, and says, “Don’t be” at the same time as Jisung asks, “About what you’re having or your friends finding out that you don’t even know who the dad is?”

You just groan and drop your face into your arms. Ten laughs but puts a soothing hand on your back. “It’s okay. You know it’ll be fine.”

Your nerves just continue to increase as you notice your father trying to chat with Johnny (in blue) even as Mark (also in blue) keeps trying to get your father to talk with him, and your mother is simply being charmed by Kun (wearing both pink and blue, unable to decide) and Jaemin (wearing an unhelpful shade of pale purple that could almost be pink) and Taeyong. And then there’s your friends, dispersing among the boys, sometimes huddling together in pairs to whisper, sometimes they’re all over the place-- one talking to Lucas, while another blushes as she asks Taeil to hand her a napkin to wipe up the drink she spilled, while another stands beside Ten and Yuta to admire Ten’s tattoos.

“Relax.” Jaehyun comes up behind you, startling you. His hands settle on your shoulders. “You’re so tense, I feel like you need some cake. Then for this party to end, then maybe a nap or at least a footrub, right? Nice bubblebath?” His hands massage your shoulders, thumbs digging in wonderfully to the tense muscles. 

You drop your head back with a groan. “That sounds great.”

“I’ll go get the cake,” he whispers. His lips just barely brush against your cheek in a kiss, and then he’s gone, disappearing into the kitchen to fetch the cake from where their manager left it chilling in the fridge. 

“Everyone!” You call, but your voice shakes and gets lost in the din of other voices. Doyoung notices you though, so he shouts instead, “Everyone!”

The attention in the room shifts to Doyoung beside you until he waves at you, passing all of the attention right onto you. Nervously you rest your hands on your belly. 

“We’re going to cut the cake now.” You move over toward a small table that had been moved into the living room, in front of a wall of blue and pink streamers and balloons and golden string lights that Ten and WinWin had hung up earlier that morning. 

Jaehyun emerges from the kitchen, carrying the cake in front of him. Renjun’s right behind him with a knife and a stack of plates.

As soon as Jaehyun sets the cake down and Renjun’s handed you the knife, you stand alone up there. 

You’d decided it was best if you stood up there alone. Yes, as far as your parents are aware Johnny’s the father, but you don’t really want your friends to think that because it’s simply not a certainty. So all of the boys stand back, and you clear your throat. 

If your parents and friends can feel the pure excitement and anticipation radiating off of most of the young men in the room, they don’t seem to think twice about it. But every eye is on you as you lift up the knife Renjun handed you, as you make your first slice into the cake. An excited ripple moves through the room as you make the second cut. And then you slip the knife under the slice and carefully bring the slice out of the cake, revealing the color inside.

Cheers around the room.

Pink! Pink! The cake is pink!

You throw yourself into the arms of the first boy who approaches you. Jungwoo, Johnny, Lucas, Jaehyun, Kun, they all pile in.

“Careful! Careful!” You hear your mother crying. “Be careful with her!”

The boys all back away, giving you just enough space, and Johnny’s hands fall to your round belly. Doyoung touches the back of your head, his fingers wandering down through your hair, settling on the back of your neck. WinWin stands right beside you, nearly bouncing in his excitement.

Your mother rushes forward and your friends, all gathering around you to touch your belly. Already your mother’s suggesting names to you. One of your friends, who’s already had a daughter, is offering you hand-me-downs. With everyone around you like this, the heat of everybody surrounding you, your head begins to buzz, and you look around, searching for anything to steady you.

“Cake? Who wants cake?” Mark asks, and you turn to see him right beside you, a slice of cake on a plate in his hand. He starts slicing and handing them out, getting people to move away from you, offering you more space to breathe. 

You sit down at an empty spot on the sofa. Johnny sits down beside you, grinning, handing a delightfully pink slice of cake to you. He bumps his shoulder against yours. 

“A girl. A baby girl. What do you think about that?” He asks.

You put a gentle hand on your belly, feeling the baby--your baby girl--stir inside you. Lately you’re more in-tune to those movements. You can tell the difference between butterflies and gassiness and her moving inside you. 

“Eat up, baby. Let this little girl taste her celebratory cake.” Johnny taps the plate, and then stands up, clearing the space beside you for your closest friend to slip into. Johnny goes over to Jaehyun and Hendery, throwing his arms over their shoulders, all three of them cheering. 

“Congratulations!” She folds one leg over the other. “A sweet baby girl. And with a daddy like this, she’ll have life made.” She grins and looks around the room, scanning over all of the boys, your other friends, your parents. “But really, which one of them is it? I’ve been watching you, trying to figure it out, but I can’t tell. You seem really close with all of them.”

You push a forkful of cake between your lips. “I am close with all of them.”

“Right, but which of them got you pregnant?” And then her voice drops lower. “And at dinner you said they, so like, is that they two of them that you’re with, or one of them with someone else?”

“I can’t tell you that.” You reply, keeping your voice low so no one else hears. “I can’t risk it getting out.”

She smiles again, amused and victorious even though you didn’t really tell her anything. “I’ll take that as you’re having sex with two of them. You don’t have to tell me, but I just hope that you’re happy with them.” 

“I really am. Happy.” You lean back, stroking your bump. “They make me so happy, how could they not when because of them I have this to look forward to.” You feel like you’re probably smiling like a fool, looking down at your belly, unable to block out the daydreams that pour through your mind. A life with your daughter. You feel that little now-familiar flutter. “I’m having a girl. A daughter.”

You look up from your belly, catching Yuta’s eye from across the room. He winks at you, and you can’t help the giddy feeling that rises up in you, so you just laugh, sinking back in your seat, feeling more relaxed, lighter, happier.

Good Thing <- Previous || Next -> gimme that: a drabble

a/n: oof this was a long one, now I hope y’all see why I split the last one and this one into two parts instead of keeping it as one long one. I’m not really sure when the next part is going to be posted, but I do have a drabble to post probably a week from now. I hope you enjoyed this part, like that resolution to Mark proposing, I really enjoyed seeing everyone’s reactions to that ending of Good Things. Please let me know what you thought, as usual, reblogs, comments, likes are super appreciated! 

#nct smut #wayv smut #nct #wayv #nct2020 #poly smut

[whumperscorner]

Ahh your "Strapped to a bomb" fic was so good, thank you for using my request! Would it be alright if I request another? I really enjoy your writing, it really hits the whumpy spot hehe! If it's okay can I request "Rope Burns" with Prompto and dad Cor and/or PromptoxNoctis.

aaah thank you anon! I'm so glad you enjoyed :D Now, I don't actually have "Rope Burns" on my bingo card, maybe it's possible you've looked at a different card before requesting? That's no biggie though, and I do love the prompt, so I've decided to try to combine it a bit with whumptober :3

Hope this one's still enjoyable <3

Whumptober 2021 day 1.- Bound

Fandom: Final Fantasy XV

Characters: Prompto Argentum, Noctis Lucis Caelum

Whumpee: Prompto Argentum

Word count: 2444

Warnings: restraints and manhandling, slight descriptions of injury

Prompto doesn't really mind working late shifts. Sure, it can be a bit spooky sometimes, especially closing up alone like today. The gas station he works at isn't exactly in the city's most reputable neighbourhood, so the late shifts always bring with them their fair share of 'eccentric' customers. On the other hand, they're also never as busy as the day shifts, and Prompto has never experienced anything actually threatening or dangerous in his time working here. So really, the biggest problem with the closing shifts is the effect they have on his sleep schedule.

This evening's shift goes about as usual. There are a few regular customers early in the evening who Prompto chats with for a bit, then he restocks some shelves and does some cleaning up in the back. At one point there's an odd-looking man in the store who doesn't end up buying anything, just walks around the between the shelves and mutters to himself. Prompto leaves it be, he knows better than to ask or intervene unless he has to. The night rolls by with few notable occurrences, and with just over an hour left before closing time now Prompto doesn't have a lot to do. He texts back and forth with Noctis in the downtime, and the two makes plans to meet up after Prom's shift is done and hang out. It's Friday after all, and Noct has gotten a welcome break from his duties as Prince, so they deserve to have some fun now. Prompto smiles at his screen, having just sent a thumb's up to Noct's suggestion to go watch a late night showing of a movie, when the sound of the door opening and closing catches his attention. He quickly puts the phone away and begins talking entirely from habit as he looks up to meet the customer.

"Welcome, what can I-" then he stops. What meets him when he looks towards the entrance, only a few feet away, is the barrel of a gun trained directly at him. Prompto's words get stuck in his throat, and he makes a small, choked gasp instead as his eyes widen. The first thing he notices is the gun and it takes him a second to take in the men standing there too. There are two of them, the one holding the gun and one other, both wearing masks and both carrying big duffel bags. Prompto's eyes flicker between the men for one terrifying moment where nothing happens, then it's as if his body is on autopilot. He rushes to the side of the counter where he knows the emergency button is located, no thoughts in his head except that he needs to alert someone. A gunshot rings out, and Prompto feels something whizz by in front of him. One of the shelves on the wall behind the counter crumbles, sending various snacks flying everywhere. Prompto stops dead in his tracks. The adrenaline previously coursing through him is gone now.

"Do as I say if you want to live." says the man holding the gun. His voice is somewhat muffled by the mask, but it still sends shivers run down Prompto's spine. He manages a slight nod and stands as still as he can as the two men approach. "Step out here." is the next order, accompanied by a quick gesture with the gun. "Hands up. No sudden movements."

Prompto obeys. What other choice does he have? His hands are trembling when he brings them up, and he has to force himself to move out from behind the counter and closer to the men. It's like his body doesn't want to move and blood rushes in his ears, making the whole situation feel surreal. When he finally stops the man with the gun nods quickly towards his accomplice, who rushes forward and closes the remaining distance between Prompto and the assailants. He throws the duffel bag onto the ground, where it lands with a heavy *thud*. Prompto gets no time to wonder what's in it though, as the man quickly grabs one of his wrists in an iron hold and wrestles him down to the floor. Prompto groans at the rough handling, and desperately tries to squirm into a more comfortable position. However, that only results in the man grabbing his hair harshly and tugging his head back.

"Stay fucking quiet." He hisses through Prompto's pained cry. Prompto whimpers out a weak apology, and when the man lets go of his hair he doesn't struggle anymore. Not even when the masked assailant reaches for the duffel bag and begins rummaging in it, pinning Prom down with a knee uncomfortably placed between his shoulder blades. It would be easier to wriggle free now, but one look up at the other man and then gun still trained on him makes Prompto quickly abandon that thought. The man holding him seems to have found what he's looking for in the bag and before Prompto can even begin to wonder about it he feels his hands being tugged in place behind his back and coarse rope tied around them. Prompto yelps at the feeling but doesn't dare struggle too much. There's laughter from behind him, though he can't tell which of the men it's from, possibly both. In any case he can feel the bindings on his hands being tightened maybe just a little too much, and he winces. This time it's definitely the one holding him the laughter comes from.

"Oh, did that hurt doll? Sorry, I'll make it better." He says, in a sort of mocking polite tone. Another strip of the rope is added just above the one already around his wrists and this one, to Prompto's horror, is tightened even harder. It forces Prompto's shoulders into a slightly weird position and comes dangerously close to cutting off circulation in his hands. Then the man turns him over, so he lies on his back on the floor instead of on his stomach. Prompto can't hold back the pained noises when the new position pulls on his bound hands.

"Don't overdo it now." says the other man, but he too chuckles at Prompto's hopeless expression. He turns back to what he was doing before, which Prompto now sees is seemingly emptying the cash register of anything and everything in it. Prompto's heart sinks, and he's just beginning to think this evening has reached it's all time low when the man pauses. "But gag him too, just to be sure." He adds, and Prompto can almost hear the wicked smile behind the mask.

He sends the man sitting over him a pleading look, though he knows it will be futile. And soon enough a filthy rag from the duffel bag has been balled up and forced into his mouth. The smell from it alone makes Prompto want to gag. He tries a couple times to spit it out, only for that to earn him a harsh slap and an order not to do that. Then the man stands up, leaving Prompto bound on the floor as he himself joins the other man in looting whatever items of even marginal value may be in the store. Prompto stays still in his uncomfortable position as they move about around him, not daring to move. All through this some small part of Prompto has been hoping that someone would appear to intervene, or would notice the disturbance and call for help, but now the reality of the situation is settling in. And the uncomfortable reality is that if no one has come running at this point then it's likely no one will. Gunshots in this area aren't a rarity, and Prompto is beginning to suspect that even if he had reached the emergency button the police wouldn't have come. The hopelessness of it all settles heavily in his stomach.

Prompto doesn't know how long he lays still there, but eventually the pull on his shoulders and the rope digging into the skin around his wrists gets too bad. With considerable effort he begins turning himself over on the side, to a position that is hopefully less straining. The movement catches the attention of one of the men though, the one carrying the gun, and he strides over. Prompto can see a dangerous twinkle in his eyes through the holes in the mask. Correctly guessing that that cannot mean anything good, Prompto keeps squirming and kicks his feet on the floor in an attempt to scurry away. He wants as much distance between himself and the man as possible. The man cackles at this and crouches down on the floor, where he quickly grabs hold of one of Prompto's flailing legs and drags him back. His tightly bound hands scraping against the tile floor makes pain flare up beneath Prompto, and he whines desperately into the gag.

When Prompto is deemed to be close enough the man lets go of his legs, and before he gets the chance to try anything again the man leans over him and tightens a strong hand around his chin. Prompto's eyes are wide and fearful now when the man's fingers are digging into his face with bruising force. "Didn't I tell you not to move around?" He all but spits in Prompto's face. Prompto makes no motion in reply. He only shuts his eyes tightly in pain when the man suddenly yanks his head up uncomfortably, only to slam it back down into the floor. Pain explodes from the back of Prompto's head, and he cries out into the gag. The man yanks him back up again, this time by his shirt, and Prompto follows limply. Just then, as Prompto sits half upright in the man's grip waiting for the inevitable pain, the unmistakeable sound of the door opening and closing stops everyone in their tracks.

There, by the door, is Noctis. The realization hits Prompto that his shift must've ended. Noct has come here for him, and relief fills his chest to the brim. At the sight that meets him Noct has also stopped dead in his tracks. With wide eyes he looks from Prompto on the floor to the man holding him and then back again. Then Prompto yells into the gag and wrenches himself out of the man's grip, and it's like the standstill in the room is broken. In the ensuing chaos Prompto just barely has time to see sparks beginning to fly around Noct's hand as he's about to pull something out of the armiger. The man then quickly grabs hold of Prompto again and jams the butt of the gun hard into the side of his head. He's then harshly shoved to the side as the man springs into action, and lands painfully on the hard floor. Black spots dance around the edges of his vision from the pistol-whip and though he tries he doesn't have the strength to sit up again.

He can't see clearly what's going on, only blurred bodies and sparks. Then a gunshot rings out, and another one, and then an enraged yell from one of the men. Worry seeps into Prompto's confused mind, and the longer the scuffle goes on the more it grows. He wants Noctis to be okay, he wants them both to get out of here. By the time the noise comes to an end Prompto is blinking rapidly to try to stop the tears threatening to spill. They're not helping his vision one bit, so when a silhouette hurries towards him fear spikes in him for a short moment. But this one doesn't have a mask, and two larger silhouettes are left behind it.

"N-Noct." He whimpers when the gag is carefully removed and tossed to the side. Above him there's some soft cursing, and then Noctis gently grabs his aching shoulders and helps Prompto sit up straight.

"I- yeah- shit, I'm here Prom." Noct says, fumbling a little with his words as he takes in the state Prom is in, and his brows crease in worry. "What was that?" he asks, nodding hastily towards the men on the ground some ways behind him. They seem to be unconscious now, and Prompto swallows hard before he answers.

"Robbery?" he offers weakly, accompanied by an attempted smile that doesn't quite translate on his tired face. Noctis looks at his with wide, worried eyes. Then it seems he realizes, or remembers maybe, that Prompto's hands are still bound. Again, sparks fly in the air as Noctis summons one of his daggers to cut Prompto free. The ropes are so tight it's difficult to do without accidentally nicking Prom's skin in the process but eventually it works, and Prompto can finally move his arms properly. Almost immediately his shoulders sag in relief, but Prompto's breath hitches when he brings his hands in front of himself again and sees the state they're in. Noctis obviously has a similar reaction and lets slip a small gasp.

The skin around Prompto's wrists and a bit further up the arm is rubbed red and raw by the coarse rope, bruises are already forming where the first rope was tied, and multiple other places blood has been drawn. Most of which cannot possibly be from Noctis' careful cutting. Prompto doesn't say anything, he doesn't know what to say. He only stares at his own trembling hands for a while, seeming almost scared to move them. It's only when Noct extends his own hands and carefully grabs hold of them that Prompto looks up. Noct manages to send Prom a reassuring smile, though a somewhat shaky one still. He begins rubbing his thumbs in soft circles on Prompto's hands, careful to avoid the most severe bruises and cuts, and Prompto lets out a long, wobbly sigh.

"Thank you." Prompto says finally.

"Of course," is Noct's answer, low and genuine. "do you think you can stand?"

Prompto isn't quite sure, but they try regardless. Turns out he can both stand and walk on shaky legs, provided it's with support from Noct. Support he readily gives. They make their way out of the gas station store, and Noctis can't resist giving one of the men an extra kick as they pass them. Then Noct calls Gladio to come pick them up and notifies him of the incident, even if local police likely wouldn't do much Noctis isn't going to let this go so easily. As they sit and wait, leaning their backs against the wall, Prompto nearly dozes off. His head resting on Noct's shoulder. And all the while, Noct never lets go of Prompto's hands and keeps rubbing small calming circles across his skin.

#whumptober2021 #whumptober 2021 #no. 1 #bound #final fantasy xv #ffxv whump #whump writing #tw: restrained #whump #my writing #tied up #restrained #prompto argentum whump #ffxv prompto #ffxv noctis #manhandling #robbery #rope burns

[gojos-sidepiece-69]

Tokyo Tech Training- Chapter 2

Your eyes snapped open and you met eyes with your lover from last night. Fuck. Did that actually happen? It shouldn’t have. Damn it. No, god, no. I got drunk and had an insane fever dream, that’s it. Your brain worked in overdrive trying to rationalize your decisions from last night. Intense waves of shame and guilt washed over you when you realized that you were, indeed, practically sober.

You woke up with no headache. Your hips, however, were a different story altogether. “Morning, sunshine,” your dimpled teacher said intoxicatingly. It was too early for his bullshit. “Please, Gojo. Not now. I’m going to go home and pretend this didn’t happen, okay? Great.” His grin widened as he pointed out, “Oh, so we’re on name-to-name basis now? I thought I was still your Sensei.”

You ignored him and firmly got up only to catch a glance of yourself in a full body mirror. You saw purple peeking out at you from under Gojo’s shirt. You pulled it down slightly and felt at your raw, sore love bites. “Sorry about those, I always like it a bit rough,” Gojo explained, still shamelessly man-spreading in his bed. “I could tell,” you deadpanned. You lifted up the hem of your shirt to inspect the degree of damage he had done to your hips, and it was bad. You could barely even walk straight. You were planning on a pleasant walk-of-shame home, but seeing the state of your condition, that was now out of question. As if he read your mind, he said “I’ll give you a ride back.”

You got a sneak peak into the Strongest Jujutsu Sorcerer’s morning routine, which included putting on his dumb blindfold and dark navy uniform. He handed you your clothes from the previous night, taking extra care to comment about how he was upset he didn’t get to see you in your “cute little lacy bra.” Everyone had left earlier that morning, knowing from previous experience not to wake Gojo in the morning. In addition, they didn’t want to take their chances while their airhead of a teacher took the steering wheel, blasting trap music way too damn early. You, however, had the treat of experiencing this first-hand. “All aboard!” He said childishly as you stepped into his black BMW. He immediately turned the volume of his music all the way up, humming to Pick it Up by Famous Dex.

You closed your eyes, and muttered a silent prayer that you wouldn’t die in a freak accident on the way home. With your luck, Gojo would crash straight through a KFC Drive-Thru and laugh about it.

You were shaken out of this scary afterthought when you realized that Gojo was driving 65 MPH in a 35 zone. “What the hell? Slow down!” You yelled, but your driver only looked at you and laughed. “You didn’t have a problem with me going fast last night.” You gritted your teeth. Of course he was going to make your drive home as sarcastic and filled with as many horrible sex jokes as possible. The worst part was that you, at the back of your mind, were fighting back a small laugh. But you weren’t about to confirm that he was funny. So you slowly exhaled through your nose, until your breath hitched at the back of your throat.

Gojo’s hand had snuck past the gear and onto your knee. Keeping his (inexplicably blindfolded) eyes on the road, it slowly snaked up to your thigh and rested there. He could feel you tense up and smiled to himself. He loved the effect that even just his hands had on women. The sensation gave you flashbacks of the night before. He touched a bruise on your inner thigh that he had licked and sucked so tenderly last night, and you shuddered. He drew small circles, but didn’t go any further.

The tires screeched to a halt right outside Tokyo Tech, and you clambered out of his car as fast as you could. You left in such a rush that you dropped your “cute, lacy bra” on the passenger-side floor. You didn’t even notice. Luckily it was Sunday, and you wouldn’t have to worry about seeing your teacher until tomorrow. “Have a great day!” He yelled after you, and you flipped him off classily without so much as a backwards glance for your superior. As soon as you got to your dorm, you dramatically collapsed onto the mattress.

You were so tired from fooling around the entire day yesterday that you slept through Sunday in its entirety. You arose early Monday morning and groaned when you remembered that it was going to be your first Field Training day. And you were absolutely correct in thinking that you were most definitely not ready.

“Each of you will be assigned a Jujutsu Sorcerer to shadow for your field practice today. Watch how they exorcise curses, take mental notes, and follow each of their directions carefully. Megumi and Nobara, you’ll be going with Nanami. Yuji and Y/n, you’re stuck with me,” Gojo said, keeping eye contact with you for an uncomfortably long amount of time. You thought to yourself, I might as well just start calling it blindfold-contact, if I can’t see his gorgeous eyes. I mean, eyes. Gojo whistled and led you and Yuji back to his black car. Yuji ran like the track-star he was, yelling “SHOTGUN!” so loudly that you didn’t care to argue.

He threw the door open and leaped into the passenger seat, while Gojo took the wheel and you occupied the backseat. Yuji took the liberty of connecting to the aux, this time blasting Tetris by Derek King. Once again, it was way too early in the morning to be listening to songs about ass. But this issue did not seem to exist for the Tokyo Tech’s favorite resident ass men, Yuji and Gojo. Or as you liked to call them, Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dumb-ass.

Not even a comfortable minute into the drive, Yuji energetically bent over and picked up your forgotten bra. “Ooh, looks like Gojo Sensei is getting some! Who’s the unlucky girl?” Yuji joked around. “Oh, Gojo. GOJO,” the pink-haired puppy-boy fake moaned like an animal in pain while poking fun at his teacher. Your sensei, ever the enabler of horrible jokes, chuckled along. He glanced up into the rear view mirror and made eye contact with you, breaking it as soon as he swerved into the wrong lane. “At least tell me what she looked like!” Yuji practically bursted at the seams. Gojo sighed and offered a single comment to his student that was enough to temporarily stave off his curiosity and shut him up. “She had a great ass.”

You heard a genuinely amazed “Wow!” from your fellow first-year as blush once again danced onto your cheeks. You broke the car’s mounting tension by piping up and asking, “So where are we actually going?” Gojo explained that their Field Practice entailed an actual mission to retrieve one of Sukuna’s fingers. What the hell? You thought to yourself. You had barely one day of instruction and you were being thrown into the deep end already? Jesus Christ. But somewhere deep inside your mind, you knew that Gojo cared for his students and would never let any of them get hurt.

Rudely interrupting your thoughts for the millionth time, Gojo interjected, “But we’re stopping by the bakery first. I need my morning fix.” Your stomach grumbled at the thought of food just as you remembered you hadn’t eaten yet today. With one shitty parallel-parking job, you had arrived right outside the Ichiban Pan bakery. The three of you filed into the bakery, the bell on the door ringing as the sweet aromas supplied you with some much-needed serotonin. You walked up to the counter, and immediately noticed how beautiful the cashier was. She had long, dark hair and a figure that anyone would drool over.

To your surprise, she said, “Gojo...back here already? I knew you hadn’t had enough of me yet,” as she eyed him lustfully. “Of course I had to come back for seconds. Your goods were just so...soft and sweet,” he smiled coyly as he leaned onto the counter and shamelessly flirted back. The woman reached over and toyed with Gojo’s blindfold as his smile grew. She said, “So, when are we going to have some more fun?” He answered, “Always so eager, huh? Don’t worry, you’ll get your turn soon.” You couldn’t tell if your face was heating up with annoyance at the thought of Gojo delaying the mission to flirt with one of his girls, or at the fact that you felt...jealous. Jealous that you weren’t the only one he had eyes for, and envious that this girl was older and maybe even more attractive than you. She made you feel plain in more ways than one, and your mind started to wander.

Did Gojo touch her like how he touched me? How many girls has he had before? How many is he with right now? Damn it. You shook off the bothersome thought. Maybe it was your innate competitiveness as a Jujutsu Sorcerer, but you knew you had to get him back. Fair and square. You told yourself it wasn’t because you wanted more from him, but it was because you wanted to make him feel jealous in the exact same way. Whatever it was, whenever the time would come, you were going to leave him frustrated.

Three delicious dangos and thirty minutes later, you found yourself at the site of the curse: a closed off mall. While you were now right outside of the car, you could feel the cursed energy radiating out from its epicenter. “There’s one unregistered first-grade curse that you need to extract Sukuna’s finger from. And I’m going to osbserve,” Gojo said while he sat on the hood of his car. “You’re going to what? I’ve barely had ANY training,” you sputtered angrily, but Yuji was already pulling your arm and dragging you towards the curse. Well, you thought to yourself. Might as well prove yourself a worthy comrade to Yuji and a promising student for...he didn’t matter right now. The two of you sprinted forward as Gojo lowered a dark veil over the area, blackening the sky.

Yuji shoved the front doors open and leapt inside, and you jumped in after him. The lights were broken and flickering, casting an eerie glow over the abandoned mall. The escalators were still running, but you could hear distant crashing sounds. “This way!” Yuji yelled, as the two of you sprinted up the escalator to the second floor. The crashing increased in volume, and it was clearly coming from a destroyed souvenir shop ahead.

You laid eyes on the grotesque curse, which resembled a deformed, melting, red plastic mannequin that was at least twice your height. Its arms immediately extended and shot out at you, but you dodged out of the way. You hadn’t learned any techniques yet, so it seemed like you and Yuji would be teaming up and harnessing your raw cursed energy to deliver blows to the mannequin. The curse opened its mouth to reveal jagged teeth that caged in one of Sukuna’s fingers. “There it is!” you shouted. But in an instant, both you and Yuji were caught off guard and knocked to your feet by the mannequin’s extended arms.

They grew spikes that jutted out and beat into your sides. You yelped and coughed in pain, starting to see blood pool out from under your uniform. You gritted your teeth and tried your best to deliver blows to sever the curse’s arms, but it was useless. Yuji, too, seemed trapped in between the sharp spikes. After ten minutes of intense stabbing pains and useless struggle against this first-grade curse, Yuji piped up. “I think I’m going to have to let Sukuna take over and destroy this curse.” Your eyes widened. You had only heard stories of the demon king, and they were all horrific. But it was between that and death, and you both made the split-second decision. “Do it,” you nodded.

You watched from your position as Yuji let Sukuna take over his body. Black tattoos etched their way across his toned body, which was exposed to you after he carelessly tore his tightening shirt off. His smile grew wide and you heard a malicious laugh. “Fool,” Sukuna said directly to the curse, before ripping its right arm off with brute force. “You think you’re any match for me?” Before its arm could regenerate, Sukuna tore off its other one and freed you before tossing you aside like a corpse while informing you that you were “in his way.” You hit your head against the front window of the store and groaned. You watched the mannequin open it’s mouth and shoot out it’s razor-sharp dagger teeth at Sukuna, but he just grabbed onto the curse’s head and tore it right off with ease.

He reached two fingers into the curse’s mouth and extracted the finger, examining it with a slight grin before swallowing it. “Feels so good,” he murmured while throwing his head back and laughing loudly. A wave of confusion washed over you. If the job was done, why hadn’t Yuji switched back yet? What was going on? You shivered and backed up slightly as Sukuna turned his head to look down at you.

“You know,” he drew out a breath as he kneeled down and picked up a scrap of cloth from Yuji’s torn shirt. “I haven’t taken over a vessel in ages. And that means I haven’t had a woman in a very,” he stepped closer to you, “Very long time.” You looked up at him from the ground, taking in his mouthwatering physique. This curse made you forget about logic for a minute and revert to primal instinct. The first thought that ran through your brain was running your tongue over his abs. However, a second later, you had an even better idea. Why not let Sukuna have his way with me? That would show Gojo. I want him to hear me moaning while he’s still sitting in his stupid BMW, blood rushing to his dick as he thinks about me getting fucked stupid by the undisputed king of curses. That thought alone was enough to push you to answer, “And what do you want me to do about that?”

“You’re going to do as I say. Let me fuck you until you can’t remember your own first name.” Your heat throbbed at that, and Sukuna wasted no time binding your hands together tightly with the scrap of cloth. This was really happening. You were about to get destroyed by the legendary Sukuna in the shattered storefront of a souvenir shop. In the dark. Without any semblance of a warning, Sukuna ripped your uniform top right off of your body, leaving behind only scraps of fabric. You shivered at the sensation of being exposed to the cold. You looked up at him wearing only your plain black bra and uniform skirt, and his eyelids lowered. “Fucking slut,” he said, as he ripped off your bra with the same fervor. He smiled hungrily as your nipples perked from the chills, and groped at your breasts with both hands.

He admired how they fit perfectly within his calloused hands, and how he could feel your heartbeat rapidly soar. With fear. Humans really are useless creatures, aren’t they? He thought before he demanded, “Open your mouth.” You complied, and he slid two long digits all the way inside. You felt one hit the back of your throat and you moaned onto his fingers as they slid back out. He rubbed his fingers back onto your breasts, coating them with the wetness of your own saliva. You moaned loudly with pleasure, positive that your pathetic Sensei could hear you from outside.

“That’s good.” Sukuna approved of your moaning. The thought of him making you arch your back, screaming and crying for him pushed him on further. His hands aggressively found your skirt, tearing it easier than paper. He looked down at your soaked panties and felt the urge to make you feel small and embarrassed. “You’ve gone and made a mess of yourself. I’ll just have to get rid of them,” you saw Sukuna’s tongue move around in his mouth as he forcefully tugged off your panties. His hunger got the best of him, and he bent down to let his tongue take one long lap along your dripping cunt. “Fuck,” he breathed as you threw your head back, hitting against the wall. “I haven’t tasted a woman in so long,” he said, before bending back down and slipping his tongue into your slit.

His strong arms kept your shaking legs pried wide open for him, sharp nails tightly gripping into your thighs, and you could only groan louder. He continued to drink at your slippery juices until you screamed and came into his mouth. He licked his lips as he pushed your thighs back together and lifted himself up. “I’m not even close to finished with you yet,” he growled, sensing you getting slightly tired.

He lifted you up and threw you onto your stomach. You propped yourself up shakily using your elbows while he pushed your head down with one of his hands. You arched your back for him, granting him an easier entrance. Kneeling behind you, he teased his dripping tip at your folds while squeezing at your ass. The buildup was almost too much for you to take, so you began to whine “Suku-,” but before you could finish, he entered you roughly. Sukuna mercilessly railed into your pussy from behind, one hand simultaneously gripping your hair and pushing your head down, while the other dug crescent-shaped nail marks into your hips.

His pace was so fast that you could only scream and curse and whine his name, but he only laughed and threw his head back. “Sl-slower,” you begged, tears spilling down your face, but Sukuna maintained his speed. Your useless request only prompted him to move his hand from your hair to your throat, gripping you tightly. “Don’t ask me that again,” he growled, still thrusting.

You could feel his thrusts become more loose and sporadic, and finally he pulled out and groaned deeply while spilling his cum all over your thighs. You panted and stood up slowly, but you held back a shocked scream. You watched in horror as Gojo Satoru stood before you, blindfolded eyes trailing over the white, creamy liquid dripping down your thighs. You instinctively covered your breasts and cunt, managing a weak, “how long were you watching?” Gojo took a step forward. “Well, I decide to assess the situation for myself when I heard you screaming for mercy, so I came in at about the time...” he mimed checking a fake watch, “a 1000-year-old curse started pounding you from behind.”

You blushed, heart racing from the exposure and accidental voyeurism. You hadn’t expected him to actually come see you for himself. However, your eyes took a quick trip to see a growing bulge in your Sensei’s pants. You smiled to yourself as you thought, mission accomplished.

🌹

#gojo smut #gojo x reader #gojo x y/n #gojo satoru #gojo sensei #jujutsu kaisen #jjk anime #jjk smut #anime #chapter 2 #long fic #fanfic #writing #fanfiction #sukuna x reader #sukuna smut #sukuna

[ilovemesomekillianjones]

Navigating the Storm (1/4)

Summary: Emma Swan navigates the aftermath of Neverland by trying to deal with everything the way she always has, by locking all her feelings away. Between having to share Henry with two other people now, her parents confession in the Echo Caves, her parents pushing her towards a man she has no interest in, and feelings for another man that she never expected to feel, Emma is at the end of her rope. *Post Neverland - No Curse*

Author’s Note:  Thank you to my friend @hollyethecurious for beta reading this story for me! I have had this written for about three months now and have finally put on the finishing touches. This is part 1 of 4 - I will post a chapter a week. Hope you guys enjoy!

Rated M          4.5K          ao3           ffnet          Under the cut, promise

It had been exactly two weeks since they’d stepped foot back in Storybrooke, since bringing Henry home safely from Neverland. Two weeks in which Emma Swan had had very few chances to just be, to just breathe. Each breath felt like it was choked by the need to scream or cry. Two weeks of restless nights and emotionally fraught days; parents urging her toward a man she did not want, her mom wanting a new baby, another mom wanting her baby, not that she held anything against Regina. Henry was as much Regina’s as he was hers, she knew that, but that didn’t mean it didn’t weigh heavily on her soul. And of course there was Neal, who had been an ever-present thorn in her side during the last two weeks. 

Emma wanted to blame everything on Neal, it would be so easy, but she couldn’t do that, there was rarely only one person to blame. She had to take some responsibility, too. He’d been bugging her about giving their relationship another shot, about putting aside the past to make a better future for Henry. Each time, Neal’s words would hit the solid mass of her thick skull and bounce right off, while simultaneously invoking a silent wrath in her being. What the everloving fuck was he thinking? How could the two of them being together be good for anyone? It didn’t help that her parents both still thought Neal was a saint. It didn’t help that each time they unwittingly made little comments about her giving him a chance, it felt like a little more of the world weighed on her shoulders. 

Each morning she dragged her feet getting out of bed, if only to delay dealing with the barrage of shit she didn’t want to hear about or deal with. Of course, if she was honest with herself, she’d admit the reason she was feeling like this was because she was effectively not dealing with any of it. But why choose now to be honest with herself, she’d been content to ignore every other issue she’d dodged in life, abandonment, intimacy, self-worth, why stop now?

Emma hadn’t felt emotional sadness like this since the days between finding out she was pregnant in prison and knowing she would have to give her baby up. Her body felt heavy, her mind felt clouded, and her soul was just… sad, there wasn’t a better word for it. She hated this feeling, and when the sadness became too overwhelming, anger often surged in, and no one needed an angry Emma Swan around. She loved her family and her family-by-extension, but she needed a break. 

As she walked toward Granny’s at a molasses slow pace, hands shoved in her jacket pockets, head down, where she was meeting her parents, Neal, Henry, and Regina for a late dinner, her eyes filled with tears. She struggled to inhale air past the lump forming in her throat. A deep anger rose within her, mostly because she was pissed at herself for wanting to cry. She didn’t know how to make everyone understand what she was feeling and why she was feeling it. No one had ever taught her the healing power of communication, while growing up in foster care. As the anger finally defeated the desire to cry, Emma Swan did what all responsible folks do and locked that shit up, deep inside where no one would see it. 

“I saved you a seat, Ems,” Neal offered as she entered the diner.

 “Yeah, look mom, right between me and dad,” Henry piped in.

Emma glanced at the six of them, one seat between Neal and Henry, no doubt by design and one seat at the other end of the table by her dad. “Uh, I have to discuss a case with David,” she lied. And boy did that make her feel like Shittiest Mom of the Year. “I’ll come back in a few.” 

Taking off her jacket, she sat next to her dad and began speaking with him about the new project they were working on to make Storybrooke Sheriff’s Department digital. There was truly nothing she needed to discuss with him right this instant, but she could not handle another manipulation by Neal, especially in front of Henry, about getting back together. 

“Why don’t you go sit with Henry and Neal,” David whispered, “we can discuss this tomorrow at work.”

Sucking in a deep breath to tamp down the edge of anger that started to creep up on her, Emma realized there was a silver lining here. At least he had whispered.

“I’m perfectly fine where I’m at,” she quietly replied, affecting a sense of calm she didn’t really feel.

“Oh, honey,” her mother began in what was not a whisper, “go sit down there, let me get a picture of the three of you.”

And just like that, there was another brick piled on her shoulders. She understood that her parents really did want what was best for her. Why couldn’t they just magically understand that Neal wasn’t it? She could hear Neal trying to coax her over and her head started to spin. She really did need that break.

As she choked on the sob that wanted to escape, the bell above the entrance rang, and if she’d never experienced what being saved by the bell meant, she was right now. “Hook,” she murmured, just a little more breathlessly than strictly necessary. 

“What?” Snow asked. 

“Hook’s here,” Emma said. “Why don’t you join us for dinner, Hook?” Emma called over to him. He was just the buffer she needed tonight. She didn’t miss the intrigue in his eyes, which he quickly masked with a conciliatory smile that didn’t quite reach those pretty blue eyes.

“While I appreciate the offer, I don’t wish to intrude,” he answered graciously.

“You’re not intruding, we were just sitting down to eat a meal. Everyone has to eat.”

“Well, if all of their Royal Highnesses don’t mind,” he acquiesced.

“Everyone scoot one seat to their right,” Emma instructed, she didn’t expect him to sit next to Neal, not with the current state of affairs. 

Snow stared at her daughter wide eyed and Emma just stared back through narrowed eyes, hoping that her expression conveyed, he did save your husband’s life.

“Ems, I thought you were going to sit with me and Henry,” Neal asked, failing to mask the irritation in his voice.

And I thought I was meeting you with the bag of watches, not the cops, Emma thought bitterly. If Neal was going to use Henry against her, he was going to be sorry. She wasn’t going to stoop to the level of using a child to get what she wanted, but she was also not going to be bulldozed by her ex.

“That’s okay, dad,” Henry intervened. “Mom can sit with her friend. How’s the fastest ship in all the realms, Captain?”

Emma beamed at her son’s cherubic nature. He was truly good. He was innocent and perfect, and she felt like she might cry again as her young son saved her again.

“She’s jolly good, m’boy,” Hook answered merrily, obviously tickled that Henry had asked about his pride and joy. Or maybe it was simply because this boy treated him with common courtesy. Hook had vowed to himself to turn over a new leaf when he’d turned his ship around to help Emma save her son, and although he knew that, most people still treated him like the pirate they’d known him to be. 

“You okay, Swan?” Hook asked her quietly, as conversation started up around the table.

“I- yeah,” she said, slapping on a smile, and even though it was an effort to smile, she found that she wanted to smile for Hook. She also found that he knew she was lying. 

“If you ever want to talk about it, I’ve a never ending supply of rum aboard the Jolly.” 

“I might just take you up on that,” she laughed. And it felt really good to laugh. 

“I thought you said you’d back off,” Neal seethed as he walked over to their end of the table.

Emma looked between the two men before quietly sounding a warning. “We do not need another pissing contest here,” she hissed.

“Contest,” Neal fumed. “There is no contest, I’m Henry’s father, he’s a home-wrecking pirate.”

Emma’s head began to swim again as she listened to Neal berate Hook, as she read between the lines of what he’d said. He felt like he deserved her because they bore a child together. 

“Is everything okay?” David asked.

Emma closed her eyes and weakly shook her head no. She would lose it if her parents got involved.

“Here Neal, why don’t you take my seat,” Snow offered.

Emma shook her head no again, but apparently no one was looking at her. 

“Haven’t you destroyed enough lives?” Neal asked.

Emma’s eyes shot open and she’d hit just about her limit. Her throat felt like it was almost swollen shut as that urge to scream or cry or both, came raging back. 

“Haven’t you done enough damage, Hook?”

“Bae-” Hook started

“Stop calling me that!” 

“Neal,” Hook corrected, “it is not my intent to come between you and Emma. I was merely accepting the invitation she offered. I did say I would back off, I didn’t say I would ignore Emma if she requested my company.”

“Back off from what?” Emma asked, feeling a little annoyed that they’d been discussing her like a - she didn’t know what.

“Swan, I merely told Ba- Neal that I would not interfere if you two decided to pursue a chance at a family with Henry.”

“I think that is very noble, Hook,” Snow inserted. 

“Not now, mom.”

“Well Emma, it’s only fair that you two have a real shot, now that you’ve been reunited,” Snow argued, “and I was just saying that I think it’s noble of Hook to put his feelings for you aside to give you and Neal that chance.”

That was it, that was her limit. Chances? Reunited? FAIR? The lights flickered twice before pitching Granny’s in darkness. Emma stood up and placed both her palms flat down on the table.

“Regina,” Emma said in a ragged voice, barely containing her emotions, which she desperately wanted to contain with Henry present. “Take him home, please.”

“Come on, Henry. I have lasagna at home,” Regina said, without having to be asked again. She could feel the energy of the situation sizzling about, and she knew only too well the magical properties of raw emotion. Of course Henry instinctively knew to listen as well. “Granny’s is closed,” Regina announced, “Mayor’s orders.”  

The several patrons around had the good sense to slap some money on the counter and head out. 

“I love you, mom. I’ll see you tomorrow,” Henry said as he and Regina readied to leave. He came to her end of the table and gave her a hug.

“I love you too, kid,” Emma responded as she ruffled Henry’s hair, and the lights flickered back to life. 

Once Henry and Regina were gone, Emma eyed her parents. She tried breathing in and out slowly. She didn’t want to fight, she didn’t want to hurt them, she didn’t want to cry. But something had to give. 

“Mom, Dad,” she whispered, as she knew her voice would crack if she attempted to speak in a normal voice. “I’ve been having a really-” a broken sob overtook Emma, halting her words. Her face crumbled, tears filling her eyes and falling to her cheeks, as the full weight of what she’d been dealing with overwhelmed her.

“Oh honey,” Snow cried as she stood up to try and comfort her daughter.

Emma held up a hand and shook her head no at her mother. “Please… don’t. I have to do this.”

Snow’s face fell as her daughter rejected her, but she sat back down to comply with her daughter’s wishes.  

“Go on, Emma,” her father said quietly.

Nodding her head, she took another big breath. “I’ve been having a really hard time since we came back from Neverland. I’m happy that you want a new baby, I am, but it also hurt to hear that you wanted to have a chance to experience everything we never got to, and I know that’s not your fault, but it still hurts. And I am happy that Henry has Regina, because no matter what, she really does love him. But it hurts to have to share him with her when we have a third person to share him with now, it’s less time, when I’ve already missed so much.”

“It wouldn’t be if you spent time with me and Henry,” Neal muttered.

“Goddammit, Neal!” Emma yelled, pounding her fists on the table. “You have got to stop that. I’m struggling with my parents wanting a new baby and I am struggling with sharing Henry with you. But my biggest problem, the one that eats away at me every day, is you! I can’t stand the way you try to manipulate me in front of my son, making it seem like I’m the only reason we can’t be a family. You showed up to Storybrooke with a fiancée, don’t act like you came back here to win me over or some other noble bullshit. And I can’t stand that my parents think you should be my happy ending.” Another sob choked her words and she paused to catch her breath. “You will never be my happy ending,” she yelled before leaving the diner. 

Emma jogged down the walkway, unsure of where to go, but knowing she couldn’t remain in there one second longer. She didn’t want to see the looks she’d put on her parents’ faces anymore and she didn’t want to deal with Neal. After an hour of wandering, she found herself down by the icy cold shoreline. She sat down in the freezing sand and folded her arms around her legs. Resting her chin on her knees, she lamented the fool she’d made of herself and the mess she’d made of things. 

“Awfully cold for camping at the beach,” Hook said.

Emma jumped so hard, it hurt her butt when she landed back in the unforgiving sand. “Jesus Christ, you scared me. Are you following me?”

“Sorry, love,” Hook apologized, holding hand and hook in the air as he always did when she went on the offensive. “I didn’t mean to alarm you. And no, I am not following you. I was up on the deck of my ship and saw your golden hair in the moonlight; wanted to make sure you don’t catch your death out here.” He handed her a blanket. 

“Thank you,” she said through chattering teeth, only now realizing just how cold it was. “You probably need to invest in some warmer clothes if you’re planning to stay in Storybrooke for the winter.”

“Is that an invitation, Swan?”

She just rolled her eyes as she held her hand out to him to help her up. 

“Don’t worry your heart, I am plenty hot,” he flirted, extending his hand and pulling her up.

“You are plenty full of yourself is what you are,” she laughed. “I don’t know why I ended up here. I just… I cannot go home. I should probably see if Granny has a room available. Paying her some rent is the least I could do after clearing out her customers.”

Hook scratched behind his ear, his nervous habit that always made Emma chuckle inside, because how did The Captain Hook have a nervous tic? 

“You could stay on the Jolly, if you like. You know, instead of walking back to Granny’s.” 

“Is that an invitation, Hook?” Emma countered.

“Actually, it is,” he said as he bowed deeply, holding his right hand out in the direction of his ship.  

She decided it was probably her best option for the night. She didn’t want to see her parents at the loft, she definitely didn’t want to risk running into Neal at Granny’s, and she was far too proud to ask Regina for a crash pad. So, she followed the direction of Hook’s extended hand and headed to the Jolly. 

“Thank you,” she mumbled as they headed down into the Captain’s Quarters. It was only slightly warmer below deck, and she wondered how cold he got at night. 

“Perhaps a little gratitude is in order,” he smirked, pointing his finger to his lips as he had done several weeks ago.

Emma didn’t even have to think about it this time. She launched herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck and backing him up against the wall. She kissed him just as passionately as she had back on that Hell Island, but this time, she had no intent of limiting their activities to just a kiss.

“Swan,” he moaned against her mouth.

“Hmmm?” she hummed as she continued to learn his mouth and his tongue which had come out to play. 

She loved the way his hook felt pressed at her back and the way his hand cupped her cheek before sliding into her hair. She took the opportunity to quickly run her hands up through his chest hair before shifting them up under his jacket to divest him of it. 

“Swan, stop,” he whispered between kisses. “Stop, darling.”

Emma immediately pulled back. Like, what? “What’s the problem,” she asked defensively.

“I apologize lass, it was a poorly timed Neverland reference.”

“A… joke?” Emma’s head began spinning again. One million thoughts ran through her head as her brows furrowed and panic hit her eyes. Her mouth turned down as a strangle hold settled over her... rejection. She’d had one melt down and now she was damaged goods in his eyes. A one time thing, she’d said, and he was the one who was going to enforce it. “I have to go,” she muttered, mind already on auto pilot to the lovely land of orphans-aren’t-worthy-of-love. 

Killian quickly blocked her path to the door. Bad move. 

“Get. Out. Of. My. Way,” she seethed. “You don- don’t want me...”  Oh fuck, she panicked, the tears were going to start again. When would this roller coaster come crashing to a halt? Emma Swan, Dumpster Fire, she mused, it had a truer ring than Emma Swan, Savior. 

“Don’t you tell me what I want or do not want,” Hook reprimanded. “I want you, I have wanted you, far more and far longer than you know.” He stepped into her space and lifted her chin with his hook, until she had no choice but to look into his eyes. “Make no mistake about that, love.” A fire burned between them, something palpable, and only by sheer force of will, was Hook denying himself the pleasure she’d been looking to bring him mere moments before. 

Truth. Truth is what she saw in Hook’s eyes. “Then why are you pushing me away,” she asked, lips still quivering with the threat of tears.

“Because I won’t exploit your emotions, that would be the pinnacle of bad form.”

“What?” 

Hook took her hand and led her to sit on his bed. “Emma, you just confessed major hurt and heartache to your parents. You obviously have unresolved issues with Bae, and you’re harboring a sadness that is ruling your emotions. Despite Neverland and everything that happened there, I have never seen you this close to the brink of despair.” 

A tear slipped down as Hook brought his hand up to cup her cheek. “Look at me, Emma.” 

She sniffled, but complied, as she realized he was not going to continue until she looked at him. 

“You are strong, and you will get through this, but a quick romp in the sack is not part of the solution. I cannot in good conscience let you lead us down a path that you will undoubtedly regret. It’s not fair to you and it’s not fair to me.”

“If I don’t get to tell you what you do or don’t want, then you shouldn’t get to tell me what I will or won’t regret,” she huffed.

Hook smiled at the fire that lit his Swan, and continued on, “I did promise Bae that I would back off, I thought it was best for Henry, if it was what you wanted as well.”

“I don’t want that,” Emma interrupted. 

“I know you don’t want that. Tonight made that clear,” he assured her. “But tonight also showed that you have some things to work out. I am here for you, Emma, and no matter what our future holds, I will stand by your side and help you traverse all of it. But where matters of our hearts are concerned, I cannot be your port in this storm if you only plan to pack up and set sail when the tide calms and the tempest parts.”

Tears surged forth once more as she lunged at Hook again, but this time just to throw herself into his embrace. She didn’t even know why she was crying, but she knew that this, him, everything he’d just said, this was what she needed. Someone to stand by her side, someone to accept her for her, someone who knew that she had shitty baggage but was okay with it and wanted to help her lighten her load. “I just want to forget, I want five minutes where I don’t feel like everything is closing around me like a vice.” 

“That’s it lass, everything is going to be okay, I promise,” he murmured as he wrapped his arms around her protectively. “Let it out, crying can be quite cathartic when you let it.” 

Emma cried a little harder as she listened to his soothing voice. She sat up many moments later when she’d cried herself out. Wiping away her tears, she looked at the man next to her. “How did you get so wise,” she asked in a nasally, I’ve-been-crying voice.

“How’s that?”

“About crying being cathartic.”

“Ah,” Hook chuckled as he blushed a bit. “You pick up some things as the centuries pass. I may have learned that sometimes letting out pent up emotion is better than harbouring it until it blows up.” 

“Thank you, Killian,” she whispered, before leaning in and tenderly placing a chaste kiss to his lips.

“You called me Killian.”

The bit of awe in his eyes made Emma giggle. “That is your name, isn’t it?”

“Aye, but you know what I mean, love,” he chuckled with her.

She laughed again until she was caught in a yawn that wracked her whole body. 

“Let me get you something to sleep in.” Hook went to an antique armoire and pulled out one of his shirts and a pair of long johns. “These should keep you warm.” After handing them to her, he placed a kiss on her cheek. “I’ll let you get some rest, no doubt your day has been taxing.” Then he turned to leave. 

Before he could make it to the door, Emma reached out to grab his hook. He turned around to see what she needed.

“Will you stay with me?”

His eyes pleaded with her not to tempt him into breaking his word. His good form. 

“I promise I won’t jump your bones, sailor.” She rolled her eyes playfully, but then she glanced away and folded her arms around herself, a vulnerability encasing her whole form before she spoke again. “I just want you to hold me,” she whispered. 

His chest ached for her, for this tender side of Emma Swan that he’d never been privy to. Why would he ever deny her something as simple as holding her? “Of course, love.” After changing into something passable for sleep attire, he joined Emma in his bed. 

“I know this is going to sound sappy, but today, at Granny’s, when you showed up, I was on the brink of losing my mind,” Emma confessed as she lay snuggled against his side, his right arm wrapped around her, making her feel safe. “But when I saw you, I felt like… like I might be able to get through it, like everything would be okay, if only you were with me. That’s why I asked you to stay.”

“And did it help, having me there?”

“All I know is, even though I didn’t say everything I need to get off my chest, I did get through part of it, and I am glad you were there.” 

“Happy to oblige, darling.” Hook craned his neck forward to place a kiss to the crown of her head. 

Pulling the blankets up to her neck, Emma shivered. “Give me your other arm, you’re warmer than these blankets.” 

“My hook,” he said, holding up the shiny version of his moniker. “I wouldn’t want to accidentally harm you.” 

“Then take it off,” Emma responded as though it were the most obvious answer in the world.

“I don’t think so, love.”

“Why not?” she asked, sitting up to look at him.

Hook took advantage of his freed arm and scrubbed his hand over his face. “It’s not a sight I wish you to see, it’s actually quite revolting.”

“I don’t believe for a second that any part of Killian Jones is revolting,” Emma said, gently pulling his left arm toward her. 

“Swan,” he groaned.

“Killian, you saw me at my most vulnerable today, and you didn’t run for the hills. I won’t either,” she promised softly. “I don’t think you understand that what I like about you is this,” she placed her hand over his heart, “the man you are.” 

Killian placed his hand over hers, where it rested on his chest and brought it to his brace. “Okay then, go ahead.” 

Carefully unfastening the buckles, Emma pulled the entire brace away from his arm. She held his forearm in one hand and ran the fingers of her other hand over the scarred flesh, inspecting the damage. Although Hook was right, it wasn’t a “pretty” sight, it wasn’t nearly as bad as he would have had her believe. “Does it still hurt?”

“Aye, sometimes.”

She delicately massaged in a downward motion, from his forearm to the end of his wrist, and watched his face. He wasn’t making eye contact with her, but rather, watching her ministrations. He looked half panic stricken, like he might bolt, and half enchanted by her touch. She followed the pattern several times until he’d fully relaxed to her touch. “See, was that so bad?”

Hook’s face was a deep shade of red and his entire body had broken out in goosebumps. He didn’t know how to answer her question. He had never willingly let another person see his mutilated arm, let alone touch it. On one hand, it was that bad, he felt laid bare before her and he was still dressed. On the other hand, or hook, as it were, he felt something akin to what she had explained earlier, like he would be okay, because she was there. “I suppose not,” he murmured, all the more enamored by this enchanting woman.

“Good.” Laying back down, she wrapped both his arms around her and snuggled into him. “Much better.” Emma slept better that night than she had since they’d come home from Neverland. 

Tagging some lovelies - please let me know if you’d like to be added or removed!

@laschatzi @qualitycoffeethings @hookedonapirate @wordsmith-storyweaver @kmomof4 @winterbaby89 @hollyethecurious @wyntereyez @hooklineandswan @teamhook @let-it-raines @whimsicallyenchantedrose @spartanguard  @tiganasummertree@apromisednightcap  @xemmaloveskillianx @elizabeethan @cocohook38 @optomisticgirl @darkcolinodonorgasm @jennjenn615 @timeless-love-story @girl-in-a-tiny-box @thesschesthair @galadriel26 @ultraluckycatnd @lifeinahole27 @therooksshiningknight @kday426 @djlbg @superchocovian @itsfabianadocarmo @lfh1226-linda @delightfully-difficult-pirate @thejollyswan @csalltheway @xarandomdreamx @vvbooklady1256 @withheartfulloflove @resident-of-storybrooke @mcakers @gingerchangeling @searchingwardrobes @snowbellewells

#cs ff #cs fan fic #captain swan #captain swan ff #captain swan fan fiction

[dontcare77ghj]

Tree

Steve x reader x Bucky x Sam

Reader POV

The year was 1516, it was all hallows eve, and you were standing at the edge of the wood near your village. 

You were waiting for your lover to arrive with a horse so the two of you could elope. Neither of your parents approved of your relationship, but you wouldn't hear of it. 

You were in love with this man, and you desired to be his. You wanted to be his wife.

So, the two of you had made a plan. You would steal a bag of silver and gold from your father, he would take a horse, and the two of you would marry without your family's consent.

The moon was at its highest point, and you were beginning to feel scared. It was all hallows eve, a full moon, you standing in front of the woods, and your lover was nowhere in sight. 

There was a loud crack behind you that caused you to jump. Your head snapped behind you as you tried to see what had made the noise. 

Your eyes were desperately scouring the wood when a sharp pain exploded in your back.

You let out a loud scream, hand attaching itself to the area as you whipped around to see your lover standing there with a knife.

"Henry?" You whimpered, jumping back as he slashed at you once more. Without a second thought, you rushed into the woods. 

You stumbled several times before you decided to kick off your shoes, throw your coin purse, and hike up your long skirt. You could hear Henry behind you screaming your name as you dashed to the left and fell down a hill.

You rolled down the long slope, branches, and prickles scratching your face and arms as you let out small cries. As you reached the bottom of the hill, you laid there for several seconds as Henry's yells dulled into silence. 

The pain in your back startled you back into reality, and you had to press your hand to your mouth to silence your cry.

You needed to find help.

As you attempted to stand, your legs gave way and caused you to go tumbling to the forest floor. You tried to stand twice more before abandoning the idea and crawling forwards.

You couldn't say for how long you crawled along the forest floor, but it was a while before you conceded and stopped. The reality of what had happened crashed down on you as you laid, bleeding on the trunk of a tree.

The full moon was shining onto your face as your blood dripped onto the exposed roots of the old tree.

"I don't want to die." You whispered aloud. "I don't want to die. Not like this." You said to yourself, to the moon, to the forest as your eyes closed and your head fell back against the tree, and you fell from the world.

You didn't die. 

When you awoke the next morning, there was a loud humming noise in your ears as you made the trek to the edge of the forest.

As you made it to the edge of the wood, suddenly your legs couldn't move. You tried for hours, ran through the majority of the woods, trying to find a way out, but every time you made it to the edge, you were unable to move.

The humming in your ears followed you as you somehow made it back to the tree where you had woken up.

Do not cry.  A low voice said into your mind. The sudden appearance from the voice startled you and caused you to jump upright.

"Who said that?" You called, spinning in a circle. "Who's there?"

I am in front of you, young one.

"The tree?" You murmured to yourself. The voice was silent as you reached forward and pressed your hand to the trunk of the tree.

You gasped as sparks traveled through your arm and throughout your body. The humming in your ear turned into loud shouting, and then you were gone.

As it turns out, on that fateful all hallows eve, something happened to you. As you laid dying, your blood mingled with the roots and soil of the tree. This, combined with the full moon, had intertwined your spirit with the tree.

You were a part of the tree, and it a part of you. 

This is why you could understand not just your tree, but the other trees of the wood. And they could hear and listen to you too.

It was also why you couldn't leave the woods. You were as bound to the earth here as your tree was.

In the beginning, you had tried to keep track of your time here. Counted out the days and weeks, but soon it became too hard, and you lost track.

Be careful, young one, you could fall. The tree chided as you walked along the thick branches. 

"I am always careful." You grinned, lightly hopping to another branch. "Besides, I have had much practice."

You have had much practice in falling. The tree teased you.

"And that practice has left me an experienced climber." You shrugged. You had just climbed to the top of the tree when you witnessed something fall from the sky. "What was that?"

Perhaps you should investigate.

Without another word, you jumped from the tree and began to race towards the crash. 

As you got closer, you slowed down and hid behind a tree. From there, you could see what appeared to be a large pile of scraped metal in a heap behind three men. 

Two of the men were laid unconscious while a blonde was attempting to help one.

You should go and help them.

"I don't believe that would be a good idea." You whispered. 

You are scared. The tree acknowledged your fears. My dear girl, you have no need to fear these men. I sense no danger from them.

"Are you sure?"

I am sure, Y/N. Go and help them. 

"Of course." You nodded before moving out into the open. "Allow me to help you." You said to the blonde, startling him.

"Who are you?" He demanded, grabbing a circular disk from beside him.

"My name is Y/N. I mean no harm. I merely wish to help your friends." You said, raising your hands. "Your friend needs yarrow root." You nodded to the brunette. "I just want to help." You repeated to him.

"Please, help us." The blonde's resolve crumbled after a second. 

You rushed into action, finding the root quickly and mashing it into a paste with the knife from your belt.

As you coated the brunette's wounds, the blonde was making a splint for the man with darker skin.

"Steve." The blonde announced, causing you to look up from your work.

"Pardon?"

"My name. My name is Steve. Thank you for helping me." Steve told you.

"Of course." You nodded. "The three of you are going to need shelter for the night." You said, noting the darkening sky.

"Where can we find shelter?" Steve asked. 

"You can stay with me." You told him. "I live close by."

"Thank you. Thank you so much." Steve breathed. "I can't carry Sam and Buck at once, though," Steve added more to himself.

"Another thing I can help with." You smiled, jumping up and moving to the closest tree. Pressing your hand into the bark, you closed your eyes and passed on your need to it. 

Suddenly a large section of bark from the trunk of the tree slid from it and landed gently at your feet.

"Do you think we should carry them or drag your friends back to my home?" You asked, turning to the shocked blonde.

"Your home is lovely." Steve complimented you as you gathered a handful of apples.

"Thank you." You smiled, handing him an apple, and taking a seat beside him. "The trees donated the woods, and I gathered the ferns and leaves myself."

"How did you do that?" Steve questioned you. "Get the tree to do that? And all this?"

"It's very complicated. I'm not even sure how it works, precisely myself." You murmured, looking down. "A long time ago, I was attacked and bleeding out. It was all hallows eve, and my blood mixed with this tree's life force. My spirit is a part of this tree, and this tree is a part of me. I awoke after my death to find I was connected to not only this tree but the rest in this forest." You explained to him. 

"My ma used to tell me stories when I was a kid. It was mostly Celtic mythology, but it sorta sounds like you're a Dryad." Steve told you. "I'm sorry that happened to you."

"It's okay. It was a long time ago. At least, I believe it was. Frankly, I lost track of time many moon cycles ago." You said.

"What was the last year you remember?"

"It was 1516 when I died."

"Y/N, it's currently 2018," Steve informed you, causing you to drop your apple in shock.

Sam, Steve, and Bucky had been staying with you for two full moon cycles. The metal they had crashed, a jet Sam told you, was entirely unsalvagable meaning, they couldn't call their team for a rescue.

The nearest town was apparently seventeen hours away, and Sam and Bucky were too injured to walk.

You didn't mind having guests for many reasons. One being you hadn't been in contact with another human who had good intentions for years. 

To have people who had been outside these woods, to talk to was a dream come true.

You loved their company more than you could admit. You and Steve would talk about mythology, books, and stories for hours on end. You and Bucky would about your shared interests in nature and in animals until the sunset. And you could listen to Sam explain the outside world and what had happened since your death until he lost his voice.

But they would also listen to you. When you'd explain what you could do, how you'd spend your days, and what life was like when you were alive.

"I can't believe you've never had a burger before." Bucky shook his head as you and Steve picked blackberries. 

"To be fair, growing up, we weren't the wealthiest. We were well off and could occasionally afford something from the butcher but not often." You said, smiling as Steve threw a berry at Sam.

"We have to find a way to get you a burger," Sam said, looking at you from where he laid with Bucky. "Maybe you could come with us when we find a way home."

"I couldn't. I can't leave the forest." You shook your head. 

"Seriously?" Sam questioned you.

"I tried to leave, but I can't move past the edge of the wood." You told him. "My tree is bound here, and so am I."

"Jesus." Bucky whistled lowly.

"I'm not complaining. I love my life here. I love the animals, the land and the trees. But it does get very lonely here. Before the three of you, I hadn't seen people for fourteen moons."

"Where did they go?"

"They tried to destroy the forest. Men began cutting down trees with these electric contraptions. I could hear all the trees screaming, but I hid until they started cutting my tree." You said, lifting your head and showcasing your neck. "The second they cut into my tree, I began to feel the pain it did."

"What happened to them?"

"I frightened and angry, and it was as if the forest came to life." You said, looking down. "I don't know what I did, but none of those men came out alive." You added, lightly tracing the scar on your throat.

"That wasn't your fault. You lost control. It happens to the best of us." Steve assured you.

"They still died by my hand. It is still an accident I caused." 

"Do you regret it?" Bucky asked you. "Do you regret what you did?"

"Every day." You nodded. "I regret what happened to them every day."

"Then that's all you can do. All you can do is look back on your mistakes and regret them." Bucky told you. "Take it from me as someone who has made many mistakes over their lifetime." He said, causing you to nod.

"Now that we've gotten that out of the way, Steve carry me back to the treehouse," Sam said, reaching his arms out to the blonde. "I think it's time we try to cook for Y/N."

The boys had officially been in your forest for three months. The three were all healed up but were still staying with you.

"Bucky, no!" You shrieked as the man wrapped his arms around your waist and lifted you off the ground. 

"Come swim with us, doll." Bucky grinned, walking you over to the lake where Steve and Sam were waiting. 

"I swear, Bucky." You began before being tossed into a waiting Sam's arms. As you sputtered up water, Bucky stood on the bank laughing hardly. "I'll give you something to laugh about." You grinned, flicking your hand, causing a branch to whip Bucky into the water.

"Okay, okay, I give!" Bucky shouted as Steve and Sam howled with laughter. "You win!" He surrendered. 

The three of you spent hours in the lake until you were all pruney, which is when you all moved onto the shore.

"If you could have one thing, what would it be?" Sam asked randomly as the four of you gazed at the clouds. "I'd kill for one of Stark's smoothies."

"A dragon," Bucky said immediately. 

"Ma's soup," Steve responded.

"What about you, Y/N? If you could have one thing in this world, what would it be?" Bucky asked after you remained silent.

"I want to have love." You said without looking away from the sky. "I think I stopped believing it was a real thing after Henry for a long time."

"And now?" Steve asked. "What do you think now?"

"I think. I think I'm a fool. Looking back, what I had with Henry was never a good relationship. I was foolish and naive when I was with Henry, and I don't think I even knew what love felt like then." You said, turning to face him.

"Do you feel it now?" Bucky pressed you.

"I do, and I think I understand the difference between being in love and loving something. I love the trees. I love my woods. I loved my family." You began, biting your lip when you paused.

"And?" Sam asked, rolling over to face you. "What's the difference?"

"It's nothing important. Ignore me." You told him.

"Doll, we want to hear what you have to say. It's important to us." Bucky told you.

You took a deep breath as you sat on your knees and faced the three who sat up.

"I love the trees. I love my woods. I loved my family. But I think I'm in love. I think I'm in love with the three of you. I don't the same way about those things that I do about the three of you are. Everything I feel about each of you is so deep and raw, and it frightens me.

And it also frightens me that I'm feeling all these things for each of you. Because I don't think I could choose, and I know that's wrong. And I'm a sinner and a harlot for the thought of it but,-" You began to rant only to be cut off by Steve's finger on your lips. 

"Breathe, Y/N." He chuckled lightly. "What you're talking about does not make you a sinner or a harlot."

"On the contrary, what you're proposing is something we would be more than okay with," Bucky told you. "The three of us are already in a committed relationship, and we've been talking about asking you to join us."

"What?" You whispered.

"Y/N, I know this is very different from the teachings of your time, but what your discussing is normal now. Men can be with men, women with women, and multiple people can be in a relationship." Sam explained to you.

"Were you kidding about me joining you?" You asked, looking between the three men who all smiled at you.

"Not at all," Sam said, and suddenly he was leaning towards you. Just as his lips were about to connect with yours, there was a loud whirring noise above your heads.

"What is that?" You yelled above the noise.

"I think it's our team!" Steve yelled back as a jet landed in the clearing. You watched apprehensively as a door opened, and two women and three men exited the quinjet.

"You're alive!" An older man cheered, swaggering forward. 

"How did you find us?" Steve asked as the four of you stood to greet them, you sticking to Sam's side.

"Tony hacked into a lot of satellites." The redheaded woman said, embracing Bucky, then Steve stopping as she spotted you. "Who's your friend, boys?"

"This is Y/N." Sam introduced. "She's the only reason any of us are alive. Y/N, this is Natasha."

"It's very nice to meet you." You greeted, sticking your hand out to the woman. 

"Thank you for keeping our friends alive," Natasha said, shaking your hand firmly.

"No trouble at all."

"With these three? I doubt it." One man snickered, receiving a smack to the arm from the other girl. "What do you three say? Are you ready to return to the real world?"

You shared a look with your boys at this. 

"Your lady friend can come too if she wants." The first man offered.

"I appreciate the offer, but I can't leave the woods." You smiled weakly at him.

"Huh?" A blond man said, scrunching his eyebrows at you.

"She's bound to the land," Bucky explained. 

"She's a Dryad. Her soul is connected with a specific tree here." Steve added. "She can't leave it."

"It's okay, boys. Go." You told them. "Others need you more than I do."

"But Y/N," Sam started. "We don't care about them, not as much as we care about you."

"Sam, you need to go. All of you. You save the world. It needs you more than you think. If you were to stay here and something were to happen that you could have fixed, I would feel guilty. And so would you. You have to go home."

"We'll come back and visit," Steve said after a minute. "All the time."

"Steve, you actually want to leave?" Bucky asked him, surprised.

"No, I don't want to, but we have to. We all know it." Steve reasoned with his partners.

"We'll visit every month. We'll be here so often you'll want us to leave." Sam promised you.

"I don't think I could ever get mad at you." You said, hugging each one of the men before pushing them towards their friends. "Go. Save the world."

"We'll be back. We promise." They said as they boarded the jet. You waved as the door closed and it began to make loud noises once more.

"It's not like I'll be going anywhere."

 We can all see what you're doing, young one.  Your tree said as you deposited another pile of blackberries in your home.

“Getting ready to make another berry spread? Yes.” You nodded.

You’re not fooling any of us, young one. You’re in pain, you just won’t admit it. 

It had been four days since your boys had had to go back home. And you had been doing anything and everything you could to keep your mind off them.

“I miss them.” You sighed, sitting on the ground. “I miss them so much.”

It is understandable. You love them but they promised to return, that is something.

“It is.” You nodded, leaning your back on the wood. “I hope they come back soon.”

The sun had shifted another place in the sky when you heard the loud rumbling of a jet. At first you merely watched but as it began to land you rushed to your feet to greet them.

“I missed you!” You sighed, throwing yourself into Bucky’s arms

“We missed you too, doll.” Bucky said as Sam stole you into his arms.

“It’s so good to see you, Y/N.” Sam said, squeezing you gently before passing you to Steve who also enveloped you in his arms.

“What are you all doing here? Not that I’m mad but it’s only been four days.” You said, pulling back from them.

“I know but it took us four days to come up with this and get in contact with these two.” Bucky said, gesturing to the two men behind you.

“Y/N, this is Loki and Thor. They’ve agreed to help you if you want them to.” Steve introduced you.

“How can you help me?” You asked, cocking your head to the side.

“We cannot unbind you from your tree but we can move it.” Thor informed you. “My brother will preform a stasis charm and it will put both you and the tree into a state of sleep.”

“This will allow us to move you and your tree back to the compound. You can come with us. See the outside world again.” Sam told you.

“Are you kidding me?”

“No. This is real, if you want it, you can come with us.” Steve said. 

“So what do you say, baby doll? Will you come home with us?”

“Yes!” You cheered, pulling Steve, who was the closest to you, down to your height and kissing him passionately. You quickly did the same to Sam and Bucky before hugging the both Thor and Loki. “Thank you! Thank you so much for this!”

“It is no hardship.” Thor assured you, patting your back gently.

“Come on, doll. Let’s get to your tree and get you two home.”

Non-reader POV

“Y/N! Are you out here?” Sam called as he, Steve and Bucky entered the wooded area of the compound. 

The four of them had been together for three years and they were all incredibly happy together. Y/N had left a note for the boys in their shared room reading merely come find me.

“Oh doll!” Bucky called as they closed in on her tree. “Where are you?” 

“Boo!” Y/N cheered, jumping from a branch onto Steve’s back. “I win.” She smiled at Sam and Bucky.

“You sure do, doll.” Bucky chuckled, taking Y/N down from Steve’s back. “What’s going on, doll?”

“Well, I’m not sure if you remembered, but it’s been three years since we met, give or take a week and I’ve decided we have to celebrate.” Y/N smiled. “So I made us a picnic and it’s up there.” She pointed to her treehouse.

“What did we do to deserve you?” Sam asked, pulling her closer to kiss her.

“Do you want my list?” She teased as they pulled apart. “I’m kidding! Now come on, the foods getting cold!”

The four stayed in Y/N’s tree for the rest of the night and well into the next day. The tree that was more responsible for their relationship than anyone admitted.

Remember all Taglists are open as are requests.

Taglist @rvgrsbrns @smilexcaptainx @hopingforbarnes @starlingelliot @piper-koko-barnes-rogers @jelly-fishy-babie @skeletoresinthebasement @agent-barnes40 @reann-loves-sebstan @skadikh @summergeezburr @buckybarton03 @sunshinepower17 @bindythedemon @natasharomanoffismywife @keenmarvellover @bbybarness @storiesbystarlight @buckybarnesplumwhore @bromieeeomieee @marvelmenarebeautiful @nikishadow @pauloonig @abyssiniapleasant @beautybyfire @officalmarvelbaby

#Steve Rogers #steve x reader #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #sam wilson #sam x reader #sam wilson x reader #stucky #stucky x reader #captain america #captain america x reader #Winter Solider #winter soldier x reader #falcon x reader #falcon #avengers #avengers x reader #steve rogers x you #bucky barnes x you #sam wilson x you #steve x reader x bucky #steve x reader x sam #bucky x reader x sam

[rosiehunterwolf]

For the Romping and the Roaring- Part 2

My submission for Day 2 of @serpentfever's Inhuman Event!

Link to read on ffn.net (Recommended if you are on mobile or haven't read the first part yet)

Preview:

The hair on the back of her neck raised, sensing the hit a moment before it came, but by then it was too late to dodge, even with her quick reflexes.

Kai’s hand shoved into her chest, and she hit the ground hard. She gasped, more from shock than pain, and then her brother was darting past her, out the door.

She gazed after him, dazed. She had experienced her fair share of fights with her brother, but he had never hit her before. It hadn’t hurt bad- she knew the raw strength he could pack, and that he had been holding back immensely, but it still- it still made her heart race.

“Nya!” Jay yelped, running over to her. “Are you alright?”

“I-I’m fine,” she breathed, her voice shaking hard. She swallowed, trying to force out the tremor.

This hadn’t changed anything. She wasn’t afraid of her brother. Just a bit shocked, that was all. He hadn’t meant to do it, he had just lashed out out of frustration.

He would never hurt her on purpose.

He would never.

(Full chapter under the cut)

Prompts Used: Injury

Word Count: 6,730 (wooo this one hopefully won't crash my browser)

Rating: T

Trigger Warnings: Blood, Dehumanization

“Lloyd, come away from the door. It’s too cold outside.”

Lloyd looked back reluctantly at Nya’s call. Kai peered at him from over the large grocery bag he was carrying.

“She’s right, bud. The last thing we need is for someone to get sick. Medicine is pricey,” he added, frowning at the lightness of his wallet.

Zane carried in another bag beside him and pulled the door shut. Nya walked over to him, ruffling Lloyd’s hair as she passed. “How are we doing on cash?”

“We still got enough for a little while. But not a ton. I guess I underestimated all the stuff we would need.” He frowned, glancing around at their makeshift home, shivering as a chill tickled through the air. “We should’ve gotten more blankets. With winter coming, it’s going to be tough having no heat.”

“We should take turns sleeping with Lloyd. He’s like a little living furnace.”

Kai smirked. “Well, at least that’s one person we shouldn’t have to worry about. I thought he might be more vulnerable because of how small he is, but those dragon and oni genes really seem to be doing something for him.”

“Speaking of which,” Nya sighed, “he nearly set Cole on fire today.”

Kai winced. “Did we lose anything?”

“Just a blanket and part of a shirt.”

Kai shook his head, turning towards the boy. “Lloyd, what did I say about using fire breath indoors?”

Lloyd hardly seemed to hear, gekkering softly as he climbed up a support beam, flapping his wings a few times to propel him up to the rafters. Red eyes glowed eerily down at them, and Kai sighed.

“He’s only getting more restless the longer we’re in here,” Nya growled. “You don’t know what a pain he is when you’re gone.”

Kai crossed his arms over his chest. “It’s been two weeks. We can’t keep him in here forever.”

“We can’t stay here forever,” Cole grunted, looking up from the book he was reading. “We’re already running low on funds. We’re going to have to get jobs, somehow. And we can’t live in an abandoned warehouse for the rest of our lives- already, we’re struggling with the winter coming. Jay’s already got a cold. Sooner or later, one of us is going to freeze to death.”

Kai drummed his fingers along his thigh, turning his gaze to where the lab hybrid was snuggled on the floor in a pile of blankets, near the center of the building, where it was warmest. “How’s he doing?”

“He’s gonna be fine, it’s just a common cold. We’re just letting him sleep it off. But winter’s only just beginning. It’s only going to get worse from here on out.”

“Cole’s right,” Zane said. “We have to try something else.”

“We’re just a bunch of kids,” Nya snapped, her voice tight. “We have no idea what we’re doing.”

“Perhaps it’s time… we start looking for help.”

Three wary gazes shifted to Zane.

Kai narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean by that? Everybody hates our skins. Who would help us?”

“We don’t know that for sure. Borg told us that the world had it out for us… but he also pretended to care about us when he was really just using us.”

“Are you suggesting we go to the police?!” Nya growled. “Do you want to die?”

“Borg lied about a lot of things. What if he was lying about this, too?”

“And what if he wasn’t?” Kai retorted. “That’s a huge risk, Zane. One we can’t afford to take.”

“It was only a suggestion.”

“I get where you’re coming from, Zane,” Cole sighed, “but they’re right. That’s a big risk, and if we’re chased out, we have nowhere to go this time.”

“So what do we-”

They were interrupted by a shrill shriek, and whipped around to see Jay jerking up into a sitting position, Lloyd half-slumped over his chest. “What are you doing here?”

“Lloyd, leave Jay alone, he’s resting,” Kai chastised, rushing over to scoop him off of Jay. Lloyd squirmed in his grip, and Kai sighed. “What is wrong with you today?”

“He’s got too much energy for this cramped little place,” Nya told him. “He’s gonna end up hurting someone if we don’t do something about it.”

“Take him outside,” Jay sniffed, “before he burns the whole place down. And besides, he’s the only one of us you guys haven’t let wander since we got here. How is this different from what Borg did to him his whole life?”

“We’re protecting him from Borg,” Kai growled sharply. “If it was up to Borg, he’d be dead right now. I think we’re doing a much better job.”

“I’m not saying we aren’t,” Jay corrected quickly, waving his hands. “But I thought we wanted to give him the freedom he never had.”

“It’s not that simple, Jay,” Nya sighed. “Lloyd’s wanted- we all are, but he’s got the most at risk. If he’s spotted by anyone from Borg- it’s dangerous, is what I’m trying to say.”

“Of course it is. But so is hiding in an abandoned building for the rest of our lives. So is having nothing but a quickly-dwindling stash of money to our name. So is sleeping in a cold building with no heat through the winter. So is keeping a frustrated, fire-breathing brat inside a flammable area for two weeks.”

Lloyd shot a plume of fire at his face, and Jay shrieked, ducking. “See? I told you!” “Nah, he’s just mad at you for calling him a brat,” Nya snickered.

Kai gritted his teeth, pushing Lloyd’s face to the side until he stopped. “Jay does have a point, though. Maybe it’s worth trying to take him out.”

“But Borg-”

“We’ll be really careful,” Kai told her. “I’ll make sure he’s ready, and on his best behavior. You plan out where we’re going to go.”

Cole frowned. “How many of us are going to be going?”

“Two, plus Lloyd, would be ideal. Any more would draw too much attention.”

“Three of us could still be risky,” Cole warned. “Everyone at Borg looking for us will know what we look like. Disguises can only go so far.”

“I don’t want to just send one person out with Lloyd, though. If things go south, we’re going to need to stall for a little bit until we can get away.”

Cole crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m not sure how much I like the odds of two of you against a whole legion of Borg associates.”

“We don’t know for sure there’ll be that many,” Zane reminded. “And it will take a while to call backup.”

“And besides,” Kai added, “I’m not planning on getting noticed. It’s just a precaution if we do.”

Everyone stared expectantly at Cole, who remained silent. Lloyd struggled in his arms, and Kai let him go. The boy bounded over to the badger hybrid, and gripped his leg, looking up pleadingly. Cole looked down at him, his forehead creasing. Closing his eyes, he let out a long sigh.

“Alright, Kai, but I really hope you know what you’re doing.”

---

Kai, in fact, did not know what he was doing.

The plan was so simple in his head- teach Lloyd to blend in by having him get used to disguises and showing him the proper behaviors. They had done a very similar thing every time they had taken Lloyd out on one of their outings, back when they had still been living at Borg Tower. How hard could it be, really?

As it turned out, very hard.

Nya had not been lying about his exuberance. He seemed determined to make every little thing difficult.

“Lloyd, just put on this hat! You’ve done it before, quit being stubborn now!”

Lloyd jerked away from the hat like it was some sort of disease, hissing and batting at it. When Kai tried to pull it over his head, the boy grabbed it in his teeth and started pulling.

“No, no, don’t rip it! Augh, why can’t you just do as you’re told!”

“How’s the training going?” Nya laughed.

Kai turned to glare at her, releasing the hat. “Fine, thank you.”

“Really? Because it looks like your pupil just got away…”

Kai jerked his head back. Lloyd had dragged the hat, by his teeth, across the room, and was now slipping himself under the slab of wood that they had used as a foundation for a bed, which was much too low to the floor for Kai to even dream of fitting under.

He scowled, walking over to where Lloyd had wedged himself into, and stuck his arm underneath it, praying that he didn’t lose any fingers.

Luckily, Lloyd didn’t seem to be in a biting mood, but Kai could feel him cringing back from his touch.

“Come on, Lloyd, just come out of there already-”

He stopped as he realized Nya was giggling. Shooting her a glare, he growled, “What’s so funny?”

“You think you’re gonna have him ready to go by the end of the week?”

“You see if I don’t. You’re gonna be sorry you ever doubted me.”

“Uh-huh. If that’s what you need to tell yourself, I suppose.”

---

“Brr,” Jay huffed, as he and Nya pushed the door shut. “The wind’s really picking up out there.”

“Hopefully it’s just a cold streak,” she agreed. “I don’t want it to be too cold if we’re bringing Lloyd out in a couple days.”

“You guys still on for that?”

“I think so. Kai says he’s making progress with him. I guess we’ll have to see.”

“Hey Nya, Jay,” Cole nodded at them. “You feeling better, bro?”

“Oh, a lot better. Good as new! I think it was just a little cold. I can go back to helping out, now.”

Zane sighed. “We were fortunate, this time. Let’s hope it stays that way.”

“Lloyd,” Nya called, pulling a package of gummy bears out of one of the shopping bags. “We got a surprise for you!”

She cast her gaze to the rafters, expecting him to come leaping down, but was surprised when she saw him wriggle out from where he was dozing beside Kai, instead.

She handed him the bag. “Don’t eat them all at once, okay? We’re a little tight on money right now, so you won’t be getting any more for a while.”

The smile he shot her was small, with no teeth, as he took the bag. “Thanks, Nya.”

She frowned at him. The last time she had brought him candy, he had basically been jumping off the walls with excitement, his tail swishing and ears twitching. Now, he was barely even smiling, and stood abruptly still.

Tugging at the seal, his brow furrowed as it didn’t open. When he didn’t immediately tear it open with his fangs, and instead handed it to her so she could open it for him, she knew something was definitely off.

“What’s wrong, Lloyd? Are you feeling alright? Aren’t you happy with it?”

“No, I want it!” he yelped, grabbing for the bag.

She frowned at him, snatching it away. “Why are you acting so weird?”

Lloyd’s ears drooped, his hands dropping to his side. “Kai told me to act like the humans so I could go outside. Did I do bad?”

Nya felt her heart squeeze. “Oh, no, honey, you didn’t do anything wrong. I… I’m just not used to seeing you like this.”

He looked up at her, red eyes hopeful. “I did it right? I acted good?”

Nya took a slow breath. “Yeah, I mean… Lloyd, what exactly did Kai tell you to do?”

Lloyd shrugged. “He said if I smile too much, people can see my fangs.” Peeling back his lips, he pointed to the sharp teeth, as if Nya needed a demonstration. “Seeh?”

“Yes, Lloyd, I see. But why do you need to hide your fangs in here?”

“Kai said I’m prat-practicing,” Lloyd told her matter-of-factly, looking immensely pleased with himself for pronouncing the long word. “So I can be good when we go outside!”

Nya’s stomach felt hard. “What other kinds of things did he tell you to do, Lloyd?”

“He teached me how to not wiggle my ears so much.” He pointed to his ears, making a point of holding them still. “And we talked a lot. He’s showing me to walk on my feet better too, which is kinda wobbly though, and not as fast as using my hands, too. But Kai said I’m doing better than I was! Hey, Nya,” he added, pointing at her face, “you’re doing that thing Kai told me not to do. I can see your fangs!”

Nya unclenched her teeth, working her jaw. “Thanks, bubs. I’m gonna go talk to Kai now, okay? You have some of your gummies.”

Turning to where her brother was slouched against the wall, paging through a magazine, she stormed over to him. He glanced up at her nonchalantly, and Nya felt a surge of frustration in her chest at how calm he was.

“What’s wrong?”

“Why have you been teaching that stuff to Lloyd, Kai? Why is he acting so… weird?”

“You mean normal? It’s great, isn’t it? I gotta admit, it felt like an impossible task at the beginning of the week, but he’s reformed pretty quickly. I think he’s almost ready to go out!”

“It’s not great,” she growled. “You’ve completely changed who he is! There’s a difference between teaching him to stay low and to completely reforming him into human society!”

Kai eyed her testily. “I don’t see what the big deal is. What else were you expecting me to do?”

“I wanted you to hide him, not change his behavior! This isn’t him, Kai!”

“Relax, Nya, it’s just some minor modifications. He’s still our mischievous little brother!” “Really? Because he seemed much less feral to me.”

“Well, yeah! We can’t have him acting out in the middle of the city! I, for one, think this is an improvement. He hasn’t set anything on fire in days.”

“We’re not humans, Kai! We’re different than them, and that’s okay! He has to know that. He has to know what we are! We can’t just try to change him just because it’s what the world wants.”

“I don’t see anything wrong with being like the humans. They’ve gotten off alright, haven’t they? Meanwhile, we’ve spent our whole lives being cheated and used.”

“Just because something’s hard doesn’t mean we should just give up! I can’t believe you, don’t you care about your identity at all?” “I care about surviving. I’m trying to keep us safe! What’s a few little changes if it benefits us in the long run?”

“It might start as just some small changes, Kai, but eventually it’s going to snowball into something bigger.” She felt her voice catch in her throat. “I don’t want to teach him to hide who he is. I want him to be proud. He hasn’t done anything wrong! We left Borg to get away from that, didn’t we? So that we could start our own paths and be who we wanted to be?”

“You wanted to be homeless and poor?”

“Kai!”

“What? You’re upset with me for telling the truth? We ran away from Borg so we could live. It was out of necessity, not even a choice, really.”

“Borg was our captor. He lied to us our whole lives, made us believe he was the only one who cared when he couldn’t be bothered with us at all. If you’re seriously defending him right now-”

“I’m not defending him, of course I’m not!” Kai jumped to his feet, growling. “What kind of psychopath do you think I am? He tried to kill my baby brother! If you think I would be on his side after that-”

“But don’t you see, it’s more than just that! He was hurting all of us, for years. He was a bad person even before he decided to get rid of Lloyd. Now’s our chance to finally be free of all that. Now’s our chance to be ourselves, to-”

“To get captured again, according to you.”

“How could you say that? I want to protect everyone as much as you do, but I also think you are posing a threat to us by imposing on us the same rules Borg did-”

“How dare you compare me to him!” Kai roared. Nya flinched, and she felt the others turn their gazes on them. “I am nothing like that wretch, nothing, I want nothing more than to protect my family from him! I am doing what I must to keep us safe from him, to keep us as far away as possible. I am trying to avoid suspicion, and I don’t care about your sentimental values. I care about surviving!”

If it was anyone else, they would’ve backed down. Kai didn’t break out his roar at just any time, especially not on those he cared about. When he did, you knew he was seriously pissed. No one in their right minds would mess with him when he was mad.

But Nya was his sister, and her temper was just as hot. Although she might not have the strength of a lion behind her, or the fierceness of his roar, she wasn’t going to let her brother scare her.

“You are not protecting us, you are only restricting us, and the sooner you find out that you are just treating us like he did-”

The hair on the back of her neck raised, sensing the hit a moment before it came, but by then it was too late to dodge, even with her quick reflexes.

Kai’s hand shoved into her chest, and she hit the ground hard. She gasped, more from shock than pain, and then her brother was darting past her, out the door.

She gazed after him, dazed. She had experienced her fair share of fights with her brother, but he had never hit her before. It hadn’t hurt bad- she knew the raw strength he could pack, and that he had been holding back immensely, but it still- it still made her heart race.

“Nya!” Jay yelped, running over to her. “Are you alright?”

“I-I’m fine,” she breathed, her voice shaking hard. She swallowed, trying to force out the tremor.

This hadn’t changed anything. She wasn’t afraid of her brother. Just a bit shocked, that was all. He hadn’t meant to do it, he had just lashed out out of frustration. And, although she still believed she was in the right, she had provoked him a bit, if she was being honest.

He would never hurt her on purpose.

He… he would never do that.

He would never.

He…

“Nya?”

She blinked, realizing Jay was extending a hand to her. She took it, and let Jay pull her to her feet.

“Are you sure you’re okay? He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

“No!” she hissed fiercely, and Jay flinched. Gentler, she added, “I’m fine. Kai would never do that.”

Jay didn’t meet her gaze, only gripped her hand tighter.

“Where did he go?” she asked the others, after her breathing had returned to a somewhat normal state.

“Straight out the door,” Zane replied. “No one saw which way he went.”

Nya glanced around the room, stopping when she realized Kai wasn’t the only one missing. “Where’s Lloyd?”

Zane pointed quietly under one of their makeshift beds. A pair of red eyes glowed from underneath.

Nya crouched down, reaching her hand in. “We didn’t mean to scare you, Lloyd. Come on out, it’s alright now.”

Lloyd burrowed deeper under the bed. Nya sighed, giving up. She knew he would only come out when he was ready.

“Should I go after Kai?” Cole asked, frowning.

Zane shook his head. “I think it’s best to give him some space to blow off some steam.”

“I just hope he’s careful. If he’s too full of anger to pay attention to what he’s doing…”Jay’s tail drooped. “The last thing we need is for anyone to get spotted now.”

“We’re pretty far out here,” Cole assured him. “If we were closer to the city, I’d be worried, but Kai’d have to get pretty far to get anywhere within the distance I think the Borg employees would be searching.”

“I hope you’re right,” Nya sighed. “One day, his temper is going to get him- or one of us- into a situation he can’t get out of.”

---

The next couple days were incredibly tense. Kai came back a few hours later, not speaking to anyone and going straight to bed. He and Nya hardly spoke to each other, and when they did, their interactions were short and argumentative. The others were careful to stay out of it, not picking any sides. Kai had a feeling that they were pretty uncomfortable around him, though.

He hadn’t meant to hit Nya. She was his sister. Even though she was being stupid and sentimental, he still loved her and never would want to hurt her. But it wasn’t like he had seriously wounded her, either. It had just been a little scuffle. He knew that Nya knew that, and that she was only mad about the argument. The others, however… they were overreacting. He didn’t understand, after all their years together, how they could seriously think he would harm one of them.

That’s what the point of all of this was, wasn’t it? To protect them? Why couldn’t anyone else see that?

He was sick of all this. Sick of all the fighting, sick of struggling and hiding all the time. He just wished they could be normal.

Although Nya wanted anything but that, it seemed.

He understood what she was saying, in a sense- they were different. But was it really so bad to want to change who you were if it meant a life of peace and safety?

Kai just didn’t know anymore. He was tired of being the one who had to decide. He missed when they were younger, and Borg had made all the decisions for them.

Not that he wanted Borg to be in charge of them anymore- but the sentiment still stood.

But life had a way of being against them.

Wishes weren’t going to fix anything.

---

When the scheduled day for Lloyd’s venture into the town rolled around, the circumstances hadn’t improved much. They had originally planned for him and Nya to accompany Lloyd- a decision he was regretting now, with the tension still between them. He almost considered asking one of the others to take his place, but decided against it. He wanted to be there with Lloyd- he had been the one who had spent all the time training him, after all. And he didn’t dare ask Nya to change her mind about going- she would probably argue just for the sake of it, and it wasn’t worth the confrontation right now. Things were already bad enough as it was.

As they wrapped Lloyd up in his winter gear, he complied much more easily than usual, and three of them set out quietly.

“Where are we gonna go?” Kai asked Nya as they approached the bus stop.

“I was thinking we could go downtown, more towards where the little shops are. The people there are pretty nice, and it’s usually bustling, so it’ll be easy to blend in with the crowds.”

“How many stops down is that,” he frowned, fingering through the bills in his wallet.

Nya watched him anxiously. “Not too far. We can walk, if that’s better.”

“It’s fine.”

“Are you-” “I told you, it’s fine!” Nya jerked her gaze away sharply. “Excuse me for trying to be considerate, then.”

“Oh, don’t be like that. It’s too cold to walk.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “I can’t tell if you’re trying to be caring or not.”

Kai growled. “Me neither.”

Lloyd squirmed by their feet, and Nya sighed. “Can we not do this, now?” She pointed down the street, to where the bus was rolling up. “The bus is here, anyway.”

Kai told the bus driver where they wanted to go, slipping him the proper payment, and the three of them piled on, taking a spot near the back, even though the bus was mostly empty. Kai knew, from his previous trips, that it would get more crowded the closer they got to town, and sitting in the back meant not many people would be looking at them.

Lloyd stared out the window for most of the ride, his wide eyes taking in the landscape rolling past. Kai watched too, and as the bus drove them deeper into the city, he saw the shining buildings, with trees and patches of greenery dispersed in between them. With winter arriving, most of the trees were skeletal, but some still had a spattering of leaves, coming in bright golds, soft reds, and blazing oranges. It wasn’t something Kai got to see often in his lifetime, in person, at least. The changing of the fall leaves was a very finicky and brief time of the year in Ninjago City, and he had been lucky if one of his outside visits fell during this time.

Deeper into the city, the buildings thickened, rows of homes filing in orderly lines. Blues, olives, tans, grays, whites- each one had its own unique charm, but they all felt like they belonged.

One house in particular caught his eye, though- one that stood out from all the rest. Its walls were a bright red, and the lawn was wildly overgrown. Too many chairs were crammed onto the small porch, paint chipping on the door. It was an eyesore compared to the rest of the neighborhood.

Being too unique was problematic, he supposed.

By now, they were getting into the thick of the city. Beautiful buildings soared above them, colorful graffiti decorated walls and bridges. Most noticeable of all, however, were the people. A father with his daughter sitting on his shoulders, an elderly couple each holding a hand of their grandson as they swung him between them. A young couple walking down the street, chatting, with their hands casually intertwined, a group of teenage boys, laughing and racing each other down the street on their skateboards.

Everyone had one thing in common- they looked happy, content, at peace.

Kai hoped they appreciated what they had.

For the first time since they had boarded the bus, he glanced over at Nya. She was staring out the window too, but her gaze wasn’t directed at the scenery beyond, like his, but instead at Lloyd’s reflection in the glass.

The bus screeched to a halt, arriving at their stop, and the three of them hopped out, thanking the driver.

Walking down the street, they found themselves in a charming little section of town, the shops modest but plentiful. Nya was right, there was plenty of activity to help hide them. All the footsteps and voices around him swamped Kai’s ears, and he shook his head, trying to press them flatter against his head. This was only a milder section of the city, he was going to have to get used to all the sounds of the urban environment if they were going to adapt to this place.

Kai wondered how Lloyd would be affected by the environment- the young boy had proven himself to have a strong sense of hearing as well, and had never been a fan of being swarmed.

But either Lloyd’s hat was muffling his senses, or he was simply too enamored by the shops to care. With every shop they went in- from t-shirts, to souvenirs, antiques, jewelry, fabrics, and a bakery, Lloyd always seemed to find some little shiny trinket or another. They couldn’t buy him much, but Lloyd seemed perfectly content with just looking, already moving onto the next object of interest within a minute or two, anyway.

They did actually make a purchase at the confectionary, though, letting Lloyd pick out a piece of candy. He had gone with a rainbow lollipop, a purchase Kai was pleased with, because it would actually last him a while, giving him and Nya time to pick up a few more essentials before heading back to the warehouse.

Emphasis on few.

“We don’t really need the new jacket, I know we have a needle and thread I can use to patch it up on my own.”

“Yeah, well what about all those protein bars, do you really need all those?” Kai asked, raising an eyebrow at her.

“They’re a good source of nutrients!” “Yeah, and they’re expensive. There’s gotta be a generic brand one you can get for cheaper.”

“These are the only ones I can get Lloyd to eat.”

“Well, he’s going to have to learn to adapt to our budget-”

“Buy them with this!” Lloyd purred, slipping a stack of bills into his hand.

Kai and Nya froze, slowly turning to look at him.

“Lloyd,” he asked slowly, “where did you get this?”

“I found it.”

No duh, Kai bit back. “Found it where?”

“Someone left it. At the store.”

“Lloyd!” Nya cried, sounding close to hysterics. “You can’t just take people’s money! You can’t take any of people’s things without permission. That’s stealing!” “They left it there,” Lloyd grumbled, kicking his foot. “I thought they were done with it. They should be more careful with their things. I’m careful with my things.”

Kai snorted a laugh, and Nya stared at him incredulously. “You can’t seriously think this is funny? He stole!”

“Oh, come on, Nya, he didn’t do it on purpose.”

“It’s still a crime.”

“He’s four!” “Doesn’t mean you should encourage him.”

“I wasn’t. In case you’re forgetting, he was the one who took it, not me.”

“But you don’t care.”

“I never said that!” “I’m your sister, I can tell.”

“Alright, alright, so maybe I wouldn’t mind a little extra cash. So what? We need it. Probably more than whoever was foolish enough to lose this.” “Kai! I can’t believe you!” “What? It’s not like we even know where to take it! Lloyd,” he turned to the boy, his voice sharp. “Where did you find the money? Which store?”

Lloyd was looking significantly less cheerful now, his eyes wary as he took a step back from them. “I dunno. Can’t remember.”

“See?” Kai snapped at Nya. “We couldn’t return it if we wanted to!” “So you’re just going to pocket it?”

“Where else would you have me take it? Like I told you, we need it more than the rich, privileged people around here.” Blood was roaring in Kai’s ears now, his breath coming in heavy pants. Why was there so much noise buzzing in his ears? There were people, so many people, and all that noise, mixing with his frustration, was making his heart slam against his chest in a dizzying rage.

“Just because they have more than us doesn’t make it right.”

“It makes it understandable.”

“I can’t believe we’re back to this again!”

“Back to what?”

“You’re trying to change Lloyd’s behavior again! I told you it would escalate- in only a few days, you’ve gone from having him hide his goofball side, to make him think stealing is okay, just because we’re in a rough patch!”

“You think I want to do this? I know it’s wrong! But sometimes an opportunity presents itself, and you gotta do what you gotta do.”

“We can’t just throw our values and everything about ourselves out the window just because things are difficult right now, Kai.”

“We haven’t really been given much choice, have we? In another week or two, we’ll have gone completely bankrupt, then what are we gonna do, huh?”

Nya paused for a moment, her breath hitching. “We’ll… we’ll figure something out. But this isn’t the answer.”

“Oh yeah? Let me know when you find one.” Turning away from her, he slipped the cash into his pocket. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. He was starting to feel lightheaded, now. He needed to end this.

“Kai, please, the last thing we need is another charge on our backs.”

“Going back to the shop to return this- even if we knew which shop to go to- would only put more suspicion on our backs. If we keep it, no one will probably ever even notice it’s missing.”

“But they could have security footage-” Nya stopped dead, the color draining from her cheeks.

“What?”

“Where’s Lloyd?”

---

Lloyd was running.

Ducking and weaving between the people roaming the streets, he tried his best to avoid running into them, but once or twice, his hand brushed against them, and he flinched away, hating the way the unfamiliar touch felt on his skin.

There were too many people here. He hated this feeling, being crowded around on all sides, like he couldn’t breathe. He just wanted to get out of here.

That was pretty impossible, though, when he had no idea where he was.

He shouldn’t have run off. Kai and Nya were going to be furious.

But… he just hadn’t been able to take it anymore.

He had been so happy when he had first brought them the money. He had thought he was helping, and that now they would be able to get more stuff and stop looking so worried all the time. But it had only made them start fighting again. Their raised voices had rung loud in his ears, too loud, and their smoldering gazes had scared him. That hadn’t been Kai and Nya- the big siblings he knew and loved. That had been something different, something Lloyd didn’t like one bit.

He hated it, every time they fought- every time the ugly side of them came out. But this time had been so much worse, because this time it was his fault, it had been him who messed things up by taking something he wasn’t supposed to.

He had just wanted to make them proud.

But maybe they would be better off without him.

He just wanted things to be the way they used to be, back when no one had fought or yelled at each other, when everyone had been happy, hanging out in their fun little room, giving him badger rides and letting him pick whatever movie he wanted.

But that had also been the time when he had spent his nights locked up alone, when strange people in long coats and scary masks would poke and prod him, and he wanted nothing more but to see his family again, but Dr. Borg wouldn’t let him.

But that was the way things had always been, hadn’t they? There was no perfect world.

At least not for monsters, like Lloyd.

Lloyd stumbled, his head reeling. All these thoughts were a little too much to take in.

Glancing around, he spotted an alleyway leading off of the streets. The perfect opportunity to get away from all the noises and people and clear his head.

Nearly crying in relief, he slipped into the comfort of the darkness.

---

“He was just here!” “Oh no, he must’ve run off again! You know how upset he gets when we fight!”

“Shit,” Kai muttered, his bubbling anger quickly giving way to panic. “He must’ve gone to look for somewhere to hide.”

“Dammit, he could be anywhere by now,” Nya whimpered, pressing her fingers to her temples. “This is all our fault!”

His frustration with her dying, Kai put a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t worry, we’ll find him. He can’t have gotten far, I should be able to pick up his scent.”

Nya glanced around, surveying their surroundings. “Just try to be subtle about it. There are a lot of people here.”

It was harder to track Lloyd’s scent without getting down to the ground, and the many other crisscrossing scents in the area added to the complexity, but, luckily for them, Lloyd’s oni and dragon blood made for a distinctive tang that Kai was able to pick up on after only a minute, despite all the distractions.

They followed the trail for a few minutes, Nya hovering behind him anxiously as he went. After a while, Kai was starting to get worried he had somehow made a mistake, when they reached a busy market street.

Shaking his head, he pushed his way into the throng.

Immediately, he was overwhelmed with at least a dozen more scents, and he lost Lloyd’s for a moment. Desperately trying to pick it up again, Kai felt like he was floundering, all the scents and sounds making him stumble.

Nya grabbed his shoulder, steadying him. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m… fine, it’s just… there’s a lot of people here.” He put a hand on his head. “It’s a lot.”

“Can you still smell Lloyd?”

“I don’t know.”

Nya turned to a shopping bag she was holding, rummaging through it until she found what she was looking for and pulled it out. Popping the cap, she handed him the bottle of water. “Here. This might help.”

Downing a few sips of the cold, fresh, liquid, Kai felt his heart rate slow slightly, the fog in his brain dissipating a bit. “Thanks, Nya.”

Turning back to his surroundings, he searched for Lloyd’s scent again. This time, he caught it rather quickly, and the two of them hurried down the street a little ways, until it led to a dark alleyway.

Kai slowed his pace, his steps wary. “Lloyd? Are you here?”

There was silence, for a moment, then a soft whimper replied him. Kai froze. “Lloyd?”

Nya pushed in front of him, and Kai caught sight of his sister’s pupils dilating to her night vision.

“See anything?”

Nya didn’t respond, and Kai blinked rapidly, urging his eyes to adjust to the dim lighting. When he could finally see better, he looked over at her. Nya was standing frozen, her face white, as she stared down the alley.

Kai followed her gaze, and promptly felt his stomach lurch.

Although he couldn’t see nearly as well as Nya in the dark setting, it was well enough to identify the figure curled up in the back of the alley as Lloyd, pale and quivering as he grimaced at his leg, stretched out at an ugly looking angle, all twisted and bloody.

“Lloyd!” Nya screamed, running towards him as Kai gagged, trying hard not to puke at the scene. He tried to shake action back into his limbs, beginning to follow Nya where she was crouched over at Lloyd’s side, crying softly-

Kai froze, scenting the air. The overwhelming reek of blood and pain filled his nose, and he was still left muddled from the chaos of the busy market a moment ago, but…

Over all of that, he swore he could smell something else, something that seemed important.

“Nya, do you… do you smell that?”

“What?” Nya choked, wiping at her eyes. “Kai, he’s… it’s bad, come help me!” Kai was about to abandon the mysterious scent, when all of a sudden, it clicked.

Cold dread trickled down his spine. “Nya, look out, it’s-”

His words were cut off as something slammed against him, sending him to the ground, winded. Nets were thrown over him, and he felt strong yanks on his arms and legs as sharp rope dug into his wrists and ankles.

Blinding panic crashed through him as the full implication of what was happening hit him. No, no no, he couldn’t get captured, he couldn’t be brought back there, Lloyd couldn’t be brought back there, they would-

Kai threw back his head and roared as loudly as he could, hoping that someone, anyone would hear and come save him-

Sharp metal clashed against his jaw, sending spikes of agony through him as something was wrestled around his head. He tried to cry out again, but realized that he couldn’t move his mouth anymore, the metal device jamming it shut.

He could hear Nya’s screams from somewhere behind him, which abruptly cut off as she met his same fate. Muzzles, he realized with horror, the image of Lloyd, chained in that little room on that day they had first escaped flashing through his head.

Borg had found them. And now they were going to pay.

#ninjago #NinjagoInhumanAuWeek #For the Romping and the Roaring #R&R #Part 2 #woooo cliffhangers hope ya like those #not that you have to wait long for the next part #but i thought i was being clever #XD #rosie writes #my fic

[notyetbulletproof]

I do think there is a greater conversation to be had in regards to Kaz about forgiveness (of himself) and allowing himself to get the softer, lovelier, kinder things in life. I do think guilt plagues his life and has been a fixture since he survived and was “reborn” (let’s face it a large part of him had to die for him to come back) in that saintsforsaken Harbour. I think he never really confronted his grief — 1) he had no time, 2) was completely abandoned and left to die by a system where the only value one had was monetary and one’s ability to make more and 3) how could he?

Grief masquerades as many things before we admit to ourselves what it is. Anger. Vengeance. Fear. Those 3 things? They’re often way more motivating. They add purpose and give us something to work towards.

He had to build up his life brick by brick on the promise to himself and Jordie that he would destroy those who destroyed him and his. No distractions from the goal. That he doesn’t notice when love slips through the cracks - Inej, Jesper, Nina, Wylan, Matthias. He doesn’t realise until he lets himself realise. Kaz is honourable. The deal is the deal. He protects his own. Yes. But it’s the fact that these people become incredibly important to him so much so that he names his victories (emerald palace becoming silver six) after them. A monument to who they were and who they’ll always be—- his crows.

"Crows remember human faces. They remember the people who feed them, who are kind to them. And the people who wrong them too. They don't forget. They tell each other who to look after and who to watch out for." — CK

Then, we have Inej. The girl he loves. The one person that is able to slip under his amour. More importantly, the one person he’s willing to try to disarm for. The one person the softer emotions become more obvious around. He wants her. He needs her. She’s essential to him. The one person he admits he’d drop every plan for revenge (legit his purpose for YEARS) he ever had if it meant she was safe. Then it’s the conversation of —- Can Kaz let himself be loved? Can he let himself find joy amidst the grief? Will he allow himself solace and reprieve? Will he allow himself to have what he desires or will his past keep dragging him back?

I keep thinking about these quotes:

“ We can endure all kinds of pain. It’s shame that eats men whole.”- CK

“And that’s what destroyed you in the end, the longing for something you could never have” — SOC

"I've taken knives, bullets, and too many punches to count, all for a little piece of this town. This is the city I bled for. And if Ketterdam has taught me anything, it's that you can always bleed a little more." — CK

"Suffering is like anything else. Live with it long enough, you learn to like the taste."— CK

Don’t get me wrong— I am very clear that Kaz’s touch aversion and phobias exist because of the terrible traumatic event he experienced at 9 (wtf!) years old. I am just saying that I do think it’s the psychological torture and barriers he’s put up that plays a part too. When he talks about psychologically torturing Pekka being a way better outcome —- the boy would know. How long has he done that to himself?? When Kaz is in a fight, a violent bloody, lots of people touching and kicking and just ALOT—- violence seems to help (he’s said as much). It gives him something to focus on and the pain dulls the fact that people are touching him. Being hurt, having touch be followed by pain and grief is something he is accustomed to. A learned coping strategy. Not necessarily effective but hey— it’s worked.

And then Inej. Someone, I think we can all agree kaz is so much softer for. His tell. His one weakness. And he tries to reconcile that with his harder coping strategies by rejecting any reality where it could happen for them but they keep coming back to each other. He can’t maintain the ruse with her. He can’t be Dirtyhands all the time around her. She deserves more than that.

Then it’s their desire for intimacy. For physical touch. He wants to be physically intimate with Inej. Maybe not all the way right away, let’s be fair to them both, that’s not happening yet. But he wants to touch her (if she wants that and she does). He wants to hold her and know she’s alive and present and here with him. We know that physical contact triggers the trauma response. Yep. However his want to best it to be better than this “weakness” (it’s not weakness sweets but okay) motivates him to keep trying. To be what they both want. And while Inej might not know everything about his pain, she has her own issues with touch and when he says that if she can be brave to speak those words aloud, he can be brave and move past the fear—- it’s monumental. It’s acknowledging that it’s difficult for them both but they want this and they’ll try try try.

Let’s also think about when he thinks about Inej. Beyond all that. When he talks about himself being broken and “bad” but knowing he could pull himself into a semblance of a man for her. Feeling broken and less than and then by CK knowing that he could do right by her and showing more than telling just how much he loves her.

And most of all (because this was the point I am thinking about)—- starting to really consider forgiveness. For Jordie. For himself. Starting to really review what it is he’s truly broken about. What ending Pekka will not solve. It will give him a reprieve but he needs to make the effort to break down his walls. Him holding Inej’s hand signifying a promise to her, to himself, to them, to a new future.

A promise to try. To break down the amour and to forgive himself for not “knowing better, for being a child and trusting in the kindness of people (that line always fucked me up). To break down the barriers that keep him from happiness. That keep him from letting himself be loved. From keeping everyone at a distance because even when you do that? You still lose people and in the words of other characters in other books in the universe — “you’ll mourn (us) them anyway”. Or in Kaz’s own words “And if Ketterdam has taught me anything, it's that you can always bleed a little more." — CK

All this to say that I feel that as much as Kaz Brekker’s amour exists as a response to the horrors of his past. Exists as a shield to the world. Exists to protect him and his from the horrors that currently persist. I do think it also exists to prevent him from dealing with his grief. From forgiving himself and Jordie. For forgiving himself because in doing so he would have to confront certain things about his experiences that he couldn’t focus on before.

If he’s all about destruction then he doesn’t have to feel the other things that come with all he has experienced. (Honestly him thinking about Jordie and what he says to him about Jordie’s decisions leading up to their terrible loss— I was a mess).

“Was there never another dream?”—- CK.

Is the amour protection from that? What happens when vengeance is achieved?

Build something. Watch it burn?

Make a promise to support a new purpose?

Is forgiveness a huge part of taking off his amour? Yes. I believe so. And it starts with him (forgiving himself).

You were both kids. You were all kids.

#kaz brekker #my love #he’s making the steps towards healing

[fectless]

(This is technically in response to the post right below this one, as world building totally counts for it, right?)

Anywho, more fandom thoughts, but for BLEACH this time. I recently started rewatching the anime again for the nth time as part of my language practice (and having the Japanese subtitles on while watching it in Japanese is an experience) and reached that episode where Aizen and co. get rescued by Menos Grande after declaring their intentions to Soul Society. And then a few things hit me.

The first: Rukia says, the first time Ichigo sees her sending someone on via Soul Burial, that one neither feels hunger nor gets sick in Soul Society. We know that this is false for a few reasons.

Those who can become shinigami definitely need to eat and all souls need water which implies that they can suffer from thirst (and perhaps heat exhaustion).

Captain Ukitake is suffering from an unknown disease that makes him literally cough out his lungs. I’ve read something about it being a defect in the make up of his soul that is only not killing him because of the pact with the Soul King’s arm, but I cannot recall if this was canon or fanon (as the Blood War arc was just like that). If so, does this mean that sickness does occur in Soul Society, but so rarely as to not be mentioned? Or does it occur more in the outer districts? Why does it occur?

Hisana died from a sickness as well. Yes, it’s stated to be exhaustion, but I feel like that doesn’t make sense? Like, the flashback in the anime has her abandoning Rukia after she collapses while carrying her around. And she collapses later when she regrets this and goes to look for her sister. And then she dies.

Seriously, why does it occur? It’s weird. And it cannot be an Aizen thing as I’m pretty sure Aizen is younger than Ukitake. Is it because of what happened to the soul king? Does it have something to do with when people get sent on (like if they were close to being a hollow)? Is it because they died while sick? Is it because of their resolve?

...Do we never see sick souls in Soul Society other than them because they usually just. Die pretty soon after arriving?

And if spiritual power leaking is what causes spiritual pressure, and the “vents” can be closed... do people in the districts sometimes close them by mistake and then blow up? Is spontaneous combustion a thing in the afterlife?

The second: I’m pretty sure “Ichirin no Hana” is a love song that Byakuya is singing to Hisana’s memory.

Someone has probably stated this before, but the lyrics of the song literally say how some one, a “single flower,” is precious and can’t be replaced. How that flower bloomed despite being stuck somewhere dark and how they looked lovely but like they were about to wither away. And that the singer would accept all of their pain if only that person would smile and stay with them...

The title of the song also matches the title of the chapter in which Byakuya reveals to Rukia the secrets he’d been keeping from her about Hisana. He uses the same words, “ichirin no hana” to describe the season in which she died

Literally his whole dilema during this arc, the entire way he interacted with Rukia up to this point, was that he was conflicted between his sense of duty (to his parents, his wife and keeping his word) and his feelings for his beloved Hisana. Rukia’s physical resemblance to her sister is almost uncanny and the lie she is told when she asks why she was adopted was, “You look like Byakuya’s late wife.” How much must he have hated that? A person whom he had sworn to protect that, had she arrived two years earlier might have saved his wife’s (after)life? A person that looks just like his beloved, who reminds him of her every time he sees her (for those first 50 years), but is not and never will be Hisana. And then. To know that she’s going to be executed for crimes, that she felt she could not rely upon him enough to even let him know she’d encountered trouble in the human world when he’s been doing his best to ensure she’s safe (because that is one of the few reasonable explanations for why Rukia hadn’t been promoted yet, and then was promoted during the 3 year gap)? To see her stripped of her rank, her strength even (with that collar and the stone of the prison tower). To see a small form who so resembles his beloved all listless and soon to die, wearing a white yukata like his wife had in her last days...

Watching it again made me feel things, okay? Like yeah, it seems like it’s a stupid dilema from some perspectives. Especially considering Central 46 had a run in with Aizen by then, but. Byakuya was raised in the Seireitei. He was raised knowing that his life was the Seireitei’s tool. That his duty, his reason for existing was for the sake of his family’s honor, so he must be composed, must act as the family and Soul Society bid him. That’s some mighty powerful brainwashing/indoctrination right there. And he broke it once already to marry some nobody from the slums. He did something not only against the norms, but something selfish. Maybe if she’d had high spiritual power this would have been accepted, but she was sickly and likely did not. He went against the clan elders who had probably instilled obedience in him since birth and was afraid of doing it again.

(And if you count the filler arcs, you can bet that they held that one Kuchiki who went traitor against him too. Like: “he married that Hisana girl against our orders? What next? Will he betray Soul Society too?”)

And maybe I’m making a bigger deal out of his upbringing than I need to. Maybe it wasn’t really like this. But I feel like it really was. (Moreso with the filler arcs and what I’ve heard of the light novels.)

Also, this song and the way that the opening animation fit together really solidifies the whole “Ichigo and Rukia were always meant to have a tragic romance” vibe that I kept getting the first time I encountered this series.

The third: Rukia was likely younger than six months (physically) when she was abandoned, but I’m pretty sure that she was older than three months when she and Hisana died.

Her blanket was pink in the flashback.

Sure, the above might not seem to have much significance but it’s been proven in canon that clothes are part of oneself. I reblogged a post a while ago that went into detail, but to sum it up, clothes are part of your self image and your self image determines a bit about what you look like when you die.

Babies are usually no longer swaddled by the time they’re six months old, and some places recommend that you stop by the end of their second month.

Babies have pretty bad vision when they’re born. They take four to six months to reliably track objects in motion and use binocular vision decently. They take about four months to see across a room, and about two months to see farther than maybe 30 cm away. And around the three month mark, they start having decent color vision. Around then is when babies supposedly start showing color preference.

Babies tend to have poor long term memory. (To be fair, they’ve got a lot going on compared to being in the womb and sensory overload sucks.) Their memory by the age of six months is only a few weeks. Two months old had a memory span of a few days.

If she’s been consistently wrapped in a pink blanket, then by the time she’s old enough to see color, she would be old enough to remember what color her blanket usually is— or if it was a different color that particular day.

The fourth: when Gin raises his spiritual pressure on Aizen’s orders, Chad remains standing. This raised a bunch of questions as Gin is stronger than Yammy (to the best of my memory).

Chad remained standing. Yes, his whole fight with Captain Kyouraku was about his resolve and how he would stand by his friends and fight for their safety/ideals but. Like. Earlier that year, his spiritual strength was on par with Yuzu. He’d been friends with Ichigo for years which was why he was even that strong. He’d been in a Hollow attack maybe three times before Rukia was arrested and could only barely see them the time Ishida pulled a stupid and used Hollow Bait. Sure, he has experience fighting and he’d trained under Yoruichi, but it feels sus considering how the others fared.

Orihime fell to her knees pretty quickly after Gin turned up the pressure. She’d also fought against high-ranking shinigami at that point, and trained under Yoruichi, and fought off Hollow (alone even! And she was the reason why Sora moved on, despite Ichigo’s Blade purifying him) before. And yet... It could just be a lack of resolve, as that had come up in earlier chapters but it doesn’t feel right.

Ishida is excused from this due to circumstances.

Tatsuki has been friends with him for ages. Sure, it seems like they weren’t as close after his Mom’s passing, but by then they’d already known each other for quite some time. I’m pretty sure that they were hanging out semi-regularly through junior high/middle school, at which point he got close with Chad and she got close with Orihime. She also has experience fighting (admittedly in martial arts rather than the street fights Ichigo and Chad get dragged into). She experienced at least one hollow attack during Ishida’s Stupid Day. But she collapses as soon as Yammy shows up? That feels off.

In contrast, Ganju was struggling about the same amount. He was born to a noble family— who are known to typically have decently high spiritual power, like his older brother Kaien and his cousin/uncle Issin. He was raised in the Rukongai, meaning he likely came across Hollow attacks. (And those definitely occur.)

Makes me wonder things about Karin’s strength. Like, she managed to escape from the hollow who attacked their house to run for Ichigo’s help (manga) or lived long enough while alone with it that Ichigo and Rukia could come save her (anime), both of which are quite impressive for an eleven year old. She also kept up with Hitsugaya when they played soccer and he’s a captain. Based on Ichigo’s experience, it’s likely that she too will become stronger as she grows up. And does she have an inner hollow too, or is that Ichigo only? If White was simply a parasite and decided to stick to Ichigo I could accept it. But as a hollow Ichigo is a Vast Lorde, and hollows of that level can split into parts (like Starrk and Lilynette).

Does Yuzu not really have any spiritual strength because she inherited more of the Quincy genes from her mom and the hollow genes she inherited don’t balance out that same way it does in her siblings...? Food for thought.

TLDR: how and why is sickness as thing in Soul Society? Byakuya listens to rock music and I’m p. sure the third opening song is him angsting over his wife’s death; it also gave me strong feelings about how he was prolly brainwashed growing up so his angst over Rukia’s fate is not actually stupid. I continue to have IchiRuki feels. Rukia and Hisana died when Rukia was about 3 months old. And I am more confused now about how spiritual power works than I was before I started rewatching the anime for language practice. Also, more questions have arisen about hollows.

#bleach meta #bleach anime #remind me to look into Japanese textiles and dyes during Meiji era #maybe I should have split this into multiple posts... #long post #wish I knew how read mores can be put in on mobile #this is more than 3 sentences #bleach

[iam93percentstardust]

Winteriron, regency AU with Bucky courting Tony properly in public and being shamelessly inappropriate in private about how pretty Tony is.

Also found on ao3 here!

~

It just isn’t fair, Tony laments to himself even as he throws his head back and pants. It isn’t fair that Bucky can turn him into this trembling, gasping mess in a matter of mere seconds and then step away and look perfectly presentable in the next instant when Tony still feels utterly undone. It isn’t fair that Bucky is the very picture of propriety when they’re in public and then whisper such filth into Tony’s ear the moment he steals him away into a darkened corner, honeyed words about how he can’t wait for their marriage, how he’ll spread Tony out beneath him, and teach him the meaning of bliss such as he’s never known before.

It isn’t fair.

Tony doesn’t picture himself as much of an innocent, not after the abuse he witnessed and endured in Howard’s home, but Bucky has him acting like a blushing virgin who hasn’t yet experienced his first kiss. It’s ridiculous. So maybe Bucky was Tony’s first kiss. Maybe he will be the first person Tony takes to his bed but he still doesn’t need to act like it. He’s supposed to be calm, collected, worldly—

“I love the way you turn such a pretty shade of red,” Bucky croons, stroking his cheek with the back of his hand and Tony just…melts. He turns his face into Bucky’s palm, kissing the center of it and smiling a little when Bucky groans. “Like the sunrise over the city. Makes me wonder…”

He trails off as he slides his hand from Tony’s cheek to the curve of his neck and down to the neckline of his shirt. One stroke, then another, and Tony feels like he shouldn’t be this undone by a simple touch but he is.

“Will you blush so prettily when I have you beneath me?” Bucky muses. “Will it travel down your lovely body when I take you? What about your—”

“Bucky,” Tony gasps. ”Someone could hear.”

“And who could hear us all the way out here, darling?” Bucky looks around the abandoned garden. The crickets are singing their nightly tune and in the distance, Tony can hear the sounds of the party but other than that, they are alone.

“Why can’t you wait?” Tony asks him. “Why must you taunt and torment me when you know I’ll be yours in a few short months?”

“Because you are beautiful,” Bucky says bluntly. “And the months may seem short to you but they are an eternity to me.”

Tony stares at him for a long time, touched by Bucky’s honest declaration that Tony means too much to him to care about what propriety dictates. He lifts a shaking hand and gently cups Bucky’s cheek, a mimic of what Bucky had just done to him.

“They aren’t short to me,” he says hoarsely. “The months. They stretch on without end and I want to be yours now just as I want you to be mine. I don’t want to wait. Bucky, I would run away with you now if I could, if it would not drive my family to ruin, and I want you to know that.”

“You and your honor,” Bucky says, smiling fondly. “Howard owes you nothing but an apology and yet you still won’t leave them behind for the sake of their representation.” He leans down, pressing Tony into the hedges, and kisses him gently, sweetly. “It’s one of the many reasons I’m so enamored with you.”

“I would leave him,” Tony says scornfully. He looks back up at the house, his father’s house and one day, Tony’s. Someone is standing on the balcony and somehow, Tony just instinctually knows that it’s Maria. “But—”

Bucky’s gaze follows his and he makes a soft noise of understanding. “But your mother.”

“She doesn’t deserve to be shunned because I was too desperate to wait a few more months, no matter how long they might seem.”

Bucky kisses him again, harder this time though not as hard as Tony knows it could be. “You’re too good for me,” he murmurs into his mouth.

“Amore mio,” Tony whispers. “You would wait for me to appease my family. If anything, I’m not good enough.”

From the balcony, he hears his mother call his name. Bucky grunts, frustrated, and then he catches hold of Tony’s hand and drags him deeper into the garden, further into the maze Howard had had built back when it was all the rage. Tony doesn’t think that Howard has ever set a single foot inside the garden, much less the maze, and it has been his sanctuary since he was a child, running from his father’s hatred. Sometimes, his mother tries to follow him into the gardens but she never goes very far, claiming that the gardens are too haunted for her. There are no ghosts in the garden, only the memories of a scared child. They stop when they can no longer hear Maria calling, far enough in that he doubts she’ll follow him but perhaps not. It is their engagement party after all.

Bucky pushes against the hedge and kisses him again, desperate now and needy. “You are good,” he mutters, “and if you don’t see it, then it will be my duty to tell you each and every day until you can tell yourself.”

“That may be forever,” Tony tells him, thinking of the thousands of lives destroyed by Howard’s weapons—weapons that Tony helped create.

“Then I will tell you forever,” Bucky whispers, his hungry kisses moving down to his neck. “And it will be my burden to bear. Now hush, your throat is begging for my mouth.”

“Funny,” Tony says, feeling the heat rising in him again. “I didn’t hear it say a word.”

“Oh but it did. It’s pleading with me for me to bruise it.”

Tony’s hands are clutching at Bucky’s back. When did that happen? He could have sworn that they’d been at his side a moment ago. “Sounds violent,” he gasps.

“Only a littler death, darling.”

Maybe so but as Bucky slides his thigh between Tony’s legs, letting him rock against him as he pants, he thinks it may still be just as explosive. Pleasure is coiling in his stomach, spurred on by Bucky’s words about how beautiful he is in this moment, how much he wishes he could spread him out on the grass, how—

“Anthony!” he hears his mother call.

He groans and Bucky drops his head to Tony’s shoulder, muttering a low curse. “Don’t say things like that about my mother,” he says, swatting Bucky’s arm.

Bucky raises his head, looking at him with dark eyes. “You look absolutely debauched, darling.” He presses forward again, pushing his thigh against the hard line of Tony’s cock. “Perhaps we should skip the party, go deeper into the maze. Let me lay you out, get my mouth on your beautiful—”

He steps back suddenly, leaving Tony swaying just as his mother turns the corner. “What were you two doing?” she asks suspiciously, eyes narrowing. It isn’t fair, Tony laments again, that Bucky can look so unaffected when Tony feels as debauched as Bucky had said.

“Nothing,” Bucky says innocently. “Tony wanted to show me the gardens where he spent so much time.”

She purses her lips, eyeing them, but when neither one cracks, she nods briskly. “Very well. Come back inside. Your guests are wondering where you are.”

As they’re led out of the gardens, Tony leans over and whispers, “You will be the death of me.”

Bucky smiles crookedly. “Only a little one, darling.”

#winteriron #alle writes #alle answers #nsfk #ish #if you like please consider reblogging #lo-anlurui

[luminescentlyricist]

⚙️ Whirlwinds ༄

( Meat timeline w/ Candy elements )

( CW: Depression )

John was feeling lonely. Ever since the the session had begun, he had steadily become quieter and quieter. It was nothing out of the ordinary, really, but he wasn't talking to any of his friends as much, and found himself taking comfort in any silence he could. Not even Casey was cheering him up, regardless of how many bright blue bubbles she blew or adorable noises she teased him with. So, strangely, he sought comfort in Dave.

His keyboard had begun gathering dust, as he'd returned to his old house with the intent to actually talk to people face-to-face and maybe invite them over. But now, after what felt like years of isolation, he blew off the grey motes. Coughing, John placed his fingers on the keys as it began to boot up. This bought a soft sort of half-smile to his face. Pesterchum seemed like ancient technology, but they - all of his friends from both sessions, as well as the trolls with Trollian - insisted on keeping the chat clients alive.

There were a few moments of inescapable lag as his desktop exploded with notifications. His friends loved him that much. Scrolling through his contact list, he noted that 'CarcinoGeneticist' had been the source of a lot of the notifications. Karkat and Dave shared one thing in common: they never shut up, and that was exactly what John liked about them.

Well, he normally did.

Due to their mostly well-meaning spam of messages, the two collectively succeeded in causing his screen to freeze for a solid ten minutes, during which time John lamented not having the grist at hand to alchemise a new one. Regardless, he sat in front of it, mostly unmoving apart from the habitual tapping of his feet against the floor. The wind moved against him so tightly it felt as if it were trying to crush him into an anxious mess.

Everything became a few shades brighter when the screen finally decided to work, and the Heir himself seemed to brighten, if only for a moment. He sat up a little straighter, fixing his glasses that had been knocked askew. The wind also began to disperse, leaving a gentle breeze that helped to melt the ever-mounting tension in his shoulders. Dave had messaged him a moment earlier.

The message - of a picture - was also attached to a link, an audio clip. John missed Dave and his voice. He hadn't left the house in a long time, not since he came back to it. His friends used to try and visit, but they stopped trying three months ago when he didn't respond. Perplexed, John fumbled for his earbuds and plugged them into his laptop. The cool kid's warm tone graced his ears, bringing with it a sense of comfort.

"Hey, John. I know you probably won't hear this, but I just wanted to let you know that you're the coolest kid I've ever met. We're talking smuppet levels of cool."

John paused the video. Was that supposed to be a compliment? He couldn't tell.

"You're so cool you put arctic freezes to shame. Anyway, I know you're all down in the dumps right now, and that's a completely valid response. We've been through some mad shit lately. But you can come and talk to me whenever you need me, okay? Point is, I want you to come and hang when you're finished being a hermit. Come outta your shell, dude. Find a new home, 'cause this one's all up in the clouds."

When the clip ended, John's smile fell and the giddy warmth faded from his body. It was suddenly very cold in the house. As much as he liked Dave, his energy had begun to wane. Soon, though, another ping sounded from his laptop. There was the photo that he'd forgotten. Clicking on that file, he realised it was akin to a new face reveal. He'd not seen Dave in so long. Too long. He could barely remember the faces of his friends.

Even though Rose was a Seer of Light, dealing with knowledge and such, John couldn't help but feel that she wasn't the one to help him with his terrible memory. There were some problems that even God Tier couldn't fix, which was one of the things he realised when he returned home after so long. Sometimes, John didn't even get out of bed in the morning.

Usually, Casey would meet him at his bedside at nine in the morning - though she often got the simplistic schedule confused, and John had to get her instead - so that they could go check on the Salamander Village in the Consort Kingdom together. But, that morning, she went alone. John enjoyed the little task that he did with his daughter above all else, and it had simply become *draining*. He never wanted it to be.

His eyelids drooped as he stared at the screen in front of him, the display having dimmed in preparation to go to sleep. John dragged his finger across the trackpad, squinting against the bright lights. There he was: Dave, in all his coolness. The teen was lying on his back, faking sleep, and his crocodile consorts had laid a blanket over him, photo-bombing the picture he had attempted to take due to the unusually endearing scene.

It was a soft moment, perfectly captured in time.

Things like those were exactly what John missed about hanging out with his friends. Shutting the lid to his laptop with a small sigh, the heir wondered if he'd ever go out to see them all. He hadn't even responded to any of Karkat's messages.

"Gee, John. You're really slipping today."

He murmured this to the empty house, voice seeming too quiet compared to the otherwise vast space that was his. John was so tired. He had no energy whatsoever, but the sun remained high in the sky. The day was certainly dragging on regardless of the fact that he'd only been awake for a few hours. Taking off the iconic blue-rimmed glasses that he wore and setting them on the desk, John waited for something - anything - to rouse him.

Around him, the naturally warm breezes that he seemed to generate had stilled, causing a gentle shudder to ripple down his spine. John stood, picking up his glasses and perching them on the end of his nose. It wasn't that he needed the lenses to see; he was fairly sure going God Tier had given him 20-20 vision, but they were as important to him as Dave's shades were to the other.

Glancing towards a dusty photograph on the mantle, he directed a swift breeze to wipe the dust away. It was an old picture of he and his dad, with John himself only about five. Walking to pick it up, he studied it in a silence that had since become comfortable. Sure, he missed his dad, but memories were more than enough, even though his vision blurred with tears. Unlike a Strider, he had never been good at masking his emotions.

As a droplet ran down the glass, the boy traced around his face in the picture. As far back as he could remember,  he'd always had the same style of glasses. The first time his dad let him pick the rims he wanted, he'd simply chosen the same ones as his dad had picked for him. Dark blue and obnoxiously rectangular, just as he'd worn before and since.

They helped him remember how much he was loved, in a way,  so he didn't want to forget them. That was why it had hurt so much the time they were sucked mercilessly into the void. Just as soon as the first had transpired, another shudder ran through him. Bad memories were threatening to resurface, memories of what had happened before. He groaned aloud, trying to block them out with the noise.

He had been tempted to talk to Rose for another reason: despite the fact that there weren't exactly any functioning universities in Earth C to give her the appropriate qualifications, everyone considered her a good therapist. She'd seen and experienced her fair share of horrors since her stint in Grimdarkness. Maybe she would understand how... depressed he felt. John felt awful for always burdening Dave with the information, even though the group's resident coolkid always seemed so open to it all, even in the times he was sure no one would listen.

After so long in the house, alone, John had acquired a lot of time to think. Some of it was a negative thing, but he'd recently come to terms with a big part of himself that he'd buried around everyone. Since Kanaya and Rose had established that they were together, he'd been ruminating about his own sexuality. It felt a little safer.

There was a more inclusive crowd in Earth C than he and his friends had ever anticipated, so that nobody felt left out. Alienated. There were so many different choices he was able to make, and no legislations in place would exclude him. Being a god had its perks, though that hardly mattered. He had a truth to consider.

He was a homosexual, and he'd caught feelings for his best friend.  

Even though it was a lot to process, he was working through it slowly. Dave had once felt like someone so above him, to put on a pedestal and almost glorify. But through the session, and their chilling times on Earth C together, that had dissolved. They had a lot more in common than he had previously thought, but that did nothing to calm the jitters enveloping his entire body at the mere prospect of meeting with the other boy after so long.

At that moment, the doorbell rang out with a discordant attempt at a tune. John mentally reminded himself to fix that later. He was jolted away from his thoughts, and called out to his visitor tiredly.

"Hold on a minute..."

Dragging his feet, the boy headed to his old room. He'd since relocated some of his dad's ties to the cupboard there, unwilling to part with that aspect of himself and move into the other, bigger space. He discovered that his fingers were shaking despite his prior lethargy, which meant he couldn't tie the knot on the one he'd picked out properly. He was still only 23, but wearing them made him feel a little more mature.

Draping it over one of his shoulders like a dish-towel, the boy headed out to open the door. He was relieved to see that his daughter hadn't completely abandoned him, but the small yellow salamander had someone else in tow, dragging them inside the house while bubbling excitedly.

"Sup?"

Dave's greeting was relaxed, almost to the point of nonchalance, but the other knew him well enough that he wasn't offended by it. The cooler of the two's lips twitched up into a smile upon seeing his friend's shocked expression, and he laughed quietly.

"What's up, Egbert? Have you been rendered speechless by the Strider Charm emanating from my every pore?"

The man noted, clearly recognising that he needed to stay something familiar to relax John.

Still silent, John nodded sheepishly before posing his own greeting.

"Hi, Dave! I haven't seen you in ages. Whatcha been up to?"

He asked only when he'd cleared his head, but it didn't do much to prevent his voice from squeaking. He wasn't sure how to answer his buddy's question, so he'd swung it back to Dave, whose brows crinkled thoughtfully beneath his shades.

"Not much, really. Chillin', helpin' my bro with his projects. He told me he wanted to dismantle Sawtooth and Squarewave to do something new."

John's face brightened slightly to match the Strider's smile, but it was all he could do to ignore the lethargy that had crept back into his body.

"Woah... That must be hard work. I'm glad you're getting along with him, though!"

Instead of rising in tandem with his excited statement, the young man's voice fell flat. It wasn't that he meant to sound unenthusiastic, he'd just completely zoned out. Standing in dazed silence for a moment, he was only snapped back to reality by Dave's worried questioning.

"Hey, bro, you alright?"

John had no idea how to reply, instead shrugging dumbly. Sure, he wasn't going to die because he hadn't slept for the past few nights, but his limbs felt weighed down by lead. He stared blankly towards the wall behind his friend,  whole body beginning to lightly tremble.

"I think I'm fine, yeah... Don't worry about me, 'kay?"

The man's words slurred, and he laughed shakily. He braced himself against the near doorframe, exhaling as the world spun and lurched around his head. Thanks to the ever-increasing list of God Tier benefits, there was no need for him to sleep. Evidently, he should have. He'd not let himself have any relief from his steadily darkening thoughts for weeks.

Dave's hand lightly brushed John's shoulder, causing him to flinch and nearly fall over. He'd retrieved the tie, and was going to ask about whether or not John wanted help tying it, but did something else entirely when he felt the young man sway beneath his touch. While Casey freaked out a little, scampering away from the two to hide, Dave wrapped his arms securely around John's torso to steady him.

"I hate to tell you this, John, but what you're feeling right now is the exact opposite of fine. C'mon, dude. I can take care of you for a bit. Think of it as bro-to-bro bonding."

Dave held his position there, not speaking, until he felt the other's shaking slow down. He kept a hand on John's shoulder to steady him after the awkward embrace, slowly walking with the trembling man beside him until they reached a little further into the house. Gently, Dave guided his friend to sit down, and then called for Casey.

"C'mere, Case. Your dad needs some serious salamander love."

He never called the yellow salamander 'Casey', preferring 'Case'. She still responded to it, so he didn't see the point in changing his ways. John's adopted daughter peeked her head out from where she was hidden, blowing a bright blue bubble towards the coolkid. She made her way towards him, although she was obviously more concerned about reaching her dad.

Dave lifted Casey up into his arms and carried her to where John was on the couch. Before placing her down, he whistled and made an explosion noise upon 'impact'. She immediately hugged John's chest, walking across his legs and torso to get to that part of him. He smiled tiredly down at her.

John's eyes were drooping again, and that caused Dave - who was watching over the scene carefully - to frown.

"I can take Casey out of the room if you need some privacy, dude. You seem pretty tired."

His voice was softer than usual, but still held that certain suave that the other regarded as oddly calming. Casey bubbled in protest - or so Dave thought, since salamanders were pretty dim most of the time - and made an indignant noise.

"I think I just... I need to sleep, 'cause I've been awake for a while. But it's nice having you two here."

The man wearily smiled a little more, as if to reassure the two that nothing was wrong. It never reached his eyes.

Nodding, Dave walked to the kitchen. He retrieved a glass of water for his best friend, making sure it was cold to the touch but not icy enough to cause a headache. He returned to the living room to find John softly humming a familiar tune to Casey. It was 'Pipeorgankind', the same dramatic melody that he had once used to clear the skies of his land. A grin split Dave's features moments after.

"Aw, man... Didn't you invite me to the party? Cold."

As always, the Strider's voice held a lilt, nuanced enough that those who knew him well enough could tell whether or not he was joking around. He set the water down, clearing his throat.

"If you need a DJ, I can assure you that my beats are fresher than a cake straight outta the oven."

John stopped humming for a minute, looking towards Dave, who had fallen otherwise silent. He wasn't sure how to respond, but Dave never really expected a response in the first place.

He sat on the couch next to the other, hoisting Casey into his lap with a lop-sided grin. The salamander bubbled again, and he reached out a tentative finger. Ever since he started visiting LOWAS, Dave had never been sure whether or not the large blue objects in the salamander's mouths were their tongues. To his surprise, Casey stayed there. As soon as Dave's finger made contact, however,  the salamander licked him, bright blue liquid coating his entire hand.

This pulled a soft laugh from the boy next to him, due to the fact that the Strider's otherwise perfect hair was sticking up at the front, and he never seemed to notice. Reaching out with his powers, John directed his natural drafts - weaker than usual - to dry and swiftly redirect his hairdo.

Even though he was still incredibly tired, the blue boy was glad for the company. It didn't matter as much that Dave was obnoxious sometimes; he'd always had a keen sense of how others were feeling regardless of his own emotional confusion. As such, the Strider kept his arm around John, the small gesture providing a modicum of comfort more than his natural presence could.

The simple action was enough for the first tear to spill down John's cheek. He had adjusted himself to the feeling of crying alone, and there was a degree of embarrassment associated with anyone seeing him. But the Knight had always made him feel safer, and made it known that he'd always have a shoulder to cry on if he needed one.

Casey had situated herself on the other cushion, having moved from Dave's lap. She was keeping herself as close to her dad as possible.

Sometimes, John felt.... numb. In a way, he was jealous of the Striders' unique ability to lock away emotions, to not feel at all. He was shaken away from this mindset when Dave began gently wiping his tears away with a tissue. This particular Strider was one of the most empathetic people he knew.

Although doubts were racing through the man's mind, he was doing his best to make John feel safer.

"Let it out, man. It's... It's good for you to cry. You've bottled up so much shit I'm glad you're finding release. Just keep fighting, 'kay? I'm proud of you, John. You're one of the strongest people I know, but..."

Dave broke off as his normally suave, constrained tone wobbled, taking a deep breath before continuing.

"It's okay to break sometimes."

Dave's voice was barely more than a whisper, but it was all he could do not to start crying himself. Feeling John's panicked, shaking gasps slowing down gradually - With the other man pressed firmly against his chest in an awkward embrace - was a relief. It allowed him to let out the breath he had no idea he was holding.

He knew that his friend was sleeping, the soft breezes he emanated having tightened to curl almost protectively around his body. Gently, he eased his way out of John's lax arms. He stood, walking to the man's old bedroom and retrieving a blanket. He frowned when he saw how thin it was, though.

Taking off his thick hoodie, he draped it over John's body and scrawled something onto a sticky note: "Keep it. ~D." After attaching the note to the jacket, he bent over and pressed a soft - clearly hesitant - kiss on the other's forehead. Taking off his shades to look at John properly, his expression lifted into a smile.

Even though he knew John wouldn't hear him, Dave spoke as he left.

"I love you, dude. Good luck."

#john egbert #john homestuck #dave strider #dave homestuck #johndave #homestuck epilogue #okay I lied this is truly as soft as it gets #homestuck meat #homestuck candy #luminescent lyricist writes #🏠 stuck at home 🏠

[ilguna]

Metanoia - Chapter Twelve (f.o)

Summary: you will be crowned victor of the 75th hunger games.

Word Count; 3k

Warnings; swearing, mention of murder and torture

NOTES: i give reader a last name to fit the world.

–

The second that you stepped foot off of the hovercraft, all you heard was the distant sound of gunfire. The peacekeeper gave you a bitter reminder of your due date, and then kicked you off the ramp almost instantly after. You waited a moment to make sure that the hovercraft was long gone, and then you went straight for the noise.

You know that they would want you to head straight to your house, which is the exact reason why you chose not to. They probably have something there waiting for you. A note, a bunch of roses, your house being trashed, bloodstains--maybe it’s been set on fire! It doesn’t matter to you all that much.

You’d much rather know what’s going on in the heart of the district, than take a shower and get a change of clothes. Plus, you only have two weeks until your evaluation by Snow, which means you have to act fast. And this is all under the assumption that there won’t be people checking up on you every couple of days.

You came up with a plan on the way here, as any sane person would. The basis of the plan being; you’re not going to follow Snow’s directions in the slightest. You’re not going to calm the people down, you’re going to add fuel to the fire. 

Snow threatening to kill Tanith is the last fucking straw. Him threatening to strap you to a chair and torture you like Peeta and Johanna is one thing, but bringing Tanith into this, when she has nothing to do with it, is a whole ‘nother ring of hell. If he thought for one fucking second that he’d get away with a statement like that, he’s wrong.

You’re not going to fuck up your life twice, especially not because of what Snow says or does. 

You weigh the necklace in your hand for a second, staring down at it. Then, you unclasp it, and bring it around your neck. Once it’s not tangled in your hair, you let it rest against your chest.

The entire district seems to be barren--at least that’s what you’ve seen on the way. All houses have their doors shut, but windows are broken and porches are in splinters. The shops are basically the same way, though it’s much worse. Some are burnt down, others are void of all things that were once inside. 

It looks like a tornado blew through here, and had no mercy. Everything that could have been ruined, is. It’ll cost thousands of dollars to fix the damage done on these places. Buying a whole new house or store would be much easier than to restore what it looked like before.

“Approaching civilian!” Someone yells above you.

Covering your eyes, you look up to see where they are, since this is the first person you’ve come across the entire walk. The second that your eyes adjust, you’re met with a gun pointed at your face.

“Point that away from me!” you snap.

“Who are you, and how did you get back here?” a different voice asks closer to you.

Lowering your hand and whipping your head to where it came from, the situation isn’t much better. There’s a man with an automatic rifle pointed at your chest, finger near the trigger as if he doesn’t know if he should pull it or not. Not to mention all the people behind him hovering, and having the same intentions as him.

You should pick your words carefully.

“My name is (Y/n) Rosecelli, victor of the sixty sixth hunger games, tribute of the Quarter Quell.” What a hell of an introduction, “And I walked.”

He lowers the gun a bit, “You’re alive?”

Your first reaction is to scoff, “It’ll take a lot more than the Capitol to kill me, am I supposed to be dead?”

“That’s what we were told.”

“Hell of a shock, then.” you resume walking, “Who’s in charge of District Two’s rebellion? Like, who’s organizing the attacks against the loyalists?”

“Lyme.” A girl answers, “She’s also a victor.”

Lyme… well, you definitely recognize the name, and you can hardly remember what she looks like. Tall, likes to exercise, short blonde hair. She’s always been more modest and rebellious, it doesn’t surprise you that much. She’s older than you, almost twice your age.

“Take me to her.” you tell them.

“You’ve got it.” the boy says.

It’s a long walk, as you’re told. The only good news he had to offer was that you wouldn’t have to fight your way through gunfire to get to the Capitol building--where she’s at. They’ve pushed back most of the loyalists into the train tunnels that run through the mountains. Everyday they gain new ground, but they don’t really dare to go inside of the tunnels. It’s the loyalists’ territory.

“So, where have you been?”

“The Capitol.” you say, following the boy around the corner, “Unconscious and recovering from venom. I’m not easy to get rid of.”

“How’d you get here?” 

“Snow organized a personal hovercraft to drop me in the abandoned part of District Two, near Victor’s Village. You should probably get some people watching over there in case it happens again, so the peacekeepers won’t be able to sneak up on you as easily.” 

They don’t say anything else after that, even though you mentioned Snow pretty boldly. Of all things they could have asked you about, they ignored the one that would give them the most answers on why you’re here and wanting to see Lyme first.

“I’m going to check to make sure that it’s clear.” the girl says, the rest of you wait for minutes on end, and none of them seem antsy about it.

When she does show up, she tells you that you’re clear to head up, but they’ve got to go back to parolling. She says that you should mention the abandoned thing to Lyme, since she’s more likely to listen to you, and then they walk away.

You take the easiest path you could possibly take to approach the Justice Building. It’s also the one that will put you in the open, allowing the people standing out front to get a good look at you. If you snuck up through the shadows, they’d likely be more distrusting.

You hold your hands up even before you’re out from around the corner. They turn their guns on you quickly, but you don’t stop walking, “I’m here to speak to Lyme.”

“Stop--!”

“I don’t have any weapons on me, put your guns down before you shoot me by accident.” you head up the stairs, “My name is (Y/n) Rosecelli, and I’m here to talk to Lyme. I don’t have much time, so let’s leave the formalities for another time.”

“We should go get her--” 

The second you turn to look at him, he stiffens, “Open the fucking door and bring me to her, or you’re going to be added to the graveyard.”

His eyes slowly drag to your arm, which is very clearly presented thanks to the short-sleeved shirt.

No words come from him as he opens the door and heads inside. You follow behind him, and from how new your shoes are, they sound like heels against the tile floor. You’re surprised that they aren’t squeaking as if you’ve just come in with water on the bottom of them. You guess that you should be grateful instead.

The guy brings you up the staircase, “You don’t have any weapons on you?”

You have a hundred snarky things that you’re willing to say to him, but you settle for the simple, “No.”

He brings you around a corner, and knocks on a door a couple times. He makes you wait out of sight while he opens the door, “You’ve got a guest.”

“We’re busy--”

“She insists.” he says, and then he allows you to come over.

You don’t wait in the doorway, you head straight inside, “Scram, runt.” 

He tries to stand his ground, but the second you force the door to shut, he removes his fingers. After that, you go up to the table to see who’s standing there.

Lyme, as you expected. But there’s a strangely familiar face standing near her, finger still pointing out a place on the map. When she realizes that you see the place she’s pointing at, she retracts her finger into a fist.

“Who are you?” she asks.

You laugh, crossing your arms as you get closer to the map. There’s a bunch of lines drawn in pink marker, and considering the amount of space left behind the line, you’re guessing that’s the rebel’s side. As for the loyalists, they’re marked in red, like they’re the bad guys.

You place your hand on the free space, “Just letting you know, since this entire place is abandoned, the Capitol can sneak right in.” you look up, they’re puzzled, “The Capitol had enough room to drop me off and leave without anyone noticing--I walked for miles until I finally came upon one of your scouting groups. If you’re not careful, they can drop peacekeepers off behind you guys, and you might as well be extinct after that.”

“You’re from the Capitol?” Lyme asks, one of the guys by the window reaches for something in their belt, you can take a solid guess on what it is, even without the sight of it.

“I’m a little disappointed that you don’t recognize me, but I can point you two out even if your guys’ hunger games were ten to twenty years before mine.” you remove your hand from the map now, “As I’ve introduced myself a hundred times now, (Y/n) Rosecelli, District Two’s tribute for the Quell.”

Lyme’s face lights up, “I thought I knew you. You were in the Capitol?”

“Snow took Peeta, Johanna and I out of the arena. While he was ordering people to torture Johanna and Peeta, he put me in a ‘medically induced coma’.” you use the quotation marks, “Because of the spider venom in the arena. Today is my first day back to life, and I’ve experienced more than my fair share of shit today.”

“Welcome back.” Paylor says.

Paylor is a victor from District Eight, like six years or so before your games. She’s young, and really fucking pretty. You’re just a little dumbfounded on why she’s here in District Two, rather than ordering around her own district.

“Thanks.”

Lyme shifts on her feet, “You don’t look too bad.”

“I’ve got scars all over my body, they’re just not visible above the waist.” you shake your head, “And the only reason why I’m even in good condition, is because Snow wants me to calm down the rebels.”

“But you’re not going to.” There’s an edge to Paylor’s voice.

“No, I’m not. Instead, I want a ride to District Thirteen. That’s where Katniss and Finnick are, right?”

Lyme nods, but her face is scrunched up, “I can’t send a hovercraft there because I don’t have any. You’ll have to wait until Coin sends one here with supplies.”

“Coin?” 

“President Alma Coin.” Paylor answers, “She’s the leader of District Thirteen.”

Great, another dictatorship.

“Alright, when’s the next supply drop?” you shift on your feet.

Paylor and Lyme share a look, clearly thinking.

“We got one a week ago?” Lyme asks.

“Not even that, a few days ago,” Paylor shakes her head when she looks back at you, “You’ll have to wait at least a week, maybe more.”

You laugh, but nothing about this is funny, “You do know the state of Peeta and Johanna?”

“We know about Peeta, he’s been televised a few times.” A guy says.

“Alright, well take the last time that he was on air, and worsen that by ten. They’re fucking torturing them, you realize that? Johanna had her head shaved and she was drenched in water, like they were waterboarding her.” you lean forward, “We need to get them out.”

“We don’t have an opening for that, much less know where they’re keeping them--”

“The training center.” you say, “And I know how to get to them, I was a door away from them, Peeta and Johanna saw me.”

“That’s the heart of the Capitol.” Paylor says, “Even if we did get the volunteers to do it, we wouldn’t be able to go.”

You raise your eyebrows, “You’re telling me that Beetee hasn’t tried to hack into the security already? Didn’t he work on it for them? He would know some secret window at least.”

They share another look, and Lyme tilts her head, “She has a point.”

“And then what? You think anyone would actually want to go in?” Paylor asks, “It’s a suicide mission.”

“Listen to me,” you lean forward on the table now, they look at you, “I have two weeks--maybe not even that. If Snow finds out that I was lying or keeping information from him, he’s going to come for me and I’ll end up like Peeta, Johanna and Tanith. And if I don’t help the loyalists, he’s going to kill Tanith.

“I am working on a strict time frame, and you guys bickering about this, isn’t helping. Contact Alma Coin or whatever, at least present the idea, and if she likes it and asks for volunteers, you put me at the top of that fucking list. I will lead as many volunteers as she wants to the others. The only thing I ask in return is a free ride to District Thirteen.

“If Tanith is out of his hands, and I’m in thirteen, Snow can’t do anything to me.” you raise your eyebrows, “He won’t be able to use anyone as leverage anymore, and you’ve gained another foot in the rebellion. But all that can’t happen without you at least suggesting the idea to your supreme leader first.”

Lyme rubs her forehead for a moment, before saying; “Get Coin on a call.”

“Want to sit?” someone asks, pulling out a stool.

“Thanks.” you sit, crossing your legs.

You watch as they set up the entire call and as it pends. You spend most of the time fiddling with the hemming on the bottom of the shirt, ripping the stitching out, and then pulling on the string.

Paylor goes back to what she was saying with the map and all before you came inside. She writes down that she needs to add people to scout behind her lines, and then plans the ways that they can get into the tunnel. You want to chime in some way, but you keep out of it.

You can help as soon as Tanith is safe. You need to get Tanith out of the Capitol first, because if you’re even taped being around Lyme and Paylor with no argument going on or anything, you’re going to be fucked. Snow doesn’t have any morals, as much as he hates to admit it. He’s heartless.

“The call’s gone through.” the one by the computer says, “Plutarch’s answered.”

He projects it onto the large blank wall in front of you, but Paylor has to turn around to see him.

“Plutarch… Heavensbee? The gamemaker?” you ask, “Why?”

“He’s the one that helped organize getting them out.” Lyme tells you.

Plutarch has a smile on his face, “(Y/n), it’s nice to see you healthy.”

“You got Katniss, Finnick and Beetee out of the arena?” you ask.

Plutarch nods, “With the help of Haymitch, yes.”

“Fuck you.” you spit, “You fucking left me there! I was right there--you could have gotten me and you let me be taken by the Capitol! You’re the reason why the Capitol has had me for the past couple of weeks, you asshole--”

“Calm.” Lyme comes over, placing her hand on your shoulder, “You can yell at him later, keep on track.”

“Whatever.” you shrug her hand off, crossing your arms.

Paylor picks up where you didn’t start, “She’s been in the training center with the other tributes. She knows how to get to them, and we’d like to try and revisit the idea of a rescue mission with the tributes.”

His face says no, but his words say otherwise; “I wish it was my decision, but Coin has already decided that now isn’t the time. Especially not after we were just attacked by the Capitol.”

“When?” Lyme asks.

“A couple hours ago, we haven’t gone to the surface just yet to make sure that it’s over.”

Your mouth drops open a little bit, “I was on that hovercraft.”

Paylor nearly breaks her neck from how fast her head whips in your direction, “You were?”

“Yeah--I thought it was odd that the space was filled with… bombs. I was expecting them to attack two almost immediately after I hit the city, but they just flew off, away from the direction of the Capitol.” You shake your head, “Before you ask; no, I didn’t hear anything while I was in there.”

There’s a moment of silence, before Paylor sighs, “Where’s Coin?”

“Making sure the systems are still running, I sent someone to get her, so she should be here soon.”

“Good.” you slide off of the stool, “Because when she gets there, you’re going to do everything you can to convince her to consider the idea.”

Plutarch raises his eyebrows.

“She means--” Lyme tries.

“I mean what I said.” you lean against the table, staring at Plutarch’s face, “If you were just attacked, they’re going to be expecting some sort of retaliation. So, you attack their defense systems using Beetee’s knowledge. You get them down long enough, and that’s when the hovercraft slips through. Beetee stops, and then when the hovercraft is heading back, he starts again, or whatever.”

“That’s not exactly how things work…” someone in the corner mumbles.

“Well, they need to make it work.” you stand again, “Because I will be getting them all out of the training center. Even if I’m the only volunteer, I’ll do it.”

Plutarch laughs, “Not hellbent on killing them anymore?”

“They’re strapped to chairs being tortured like animals. Even I know when enough is enough.” you back off after that, “If I come back in here in an hour, and her answer is no, you better start fucking praying, because I am much worse than the Capitol.”

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