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kingofbodyrolls · 4 months

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Friendcation (m) | myg | winter special

| s.masterlist | m.masterlist |

Summary: You’re in labor and live outside of the city, and it just happens to be Christmas time, there’s a lot of snow. Will you and Yoongi be able to make it to the hospital before your baby arrives?

OR– The one where Yoongi fucks you into labor and crashes the car 🙃 (It’s set about 1,5 years after friendcation ended) 🙂

it's obviously part of a series, but it can totally be read as a standalone oneshot (though there's some jokes you might not get, but that's all).

Pairing: Yoongi x reader (female)

Other characters: Jimin 😇 + the rest of the gang makes an appearance at the end too 💜

AUs: roadtrip!au, non idol!au, pregnancy!au, established relationship, married!au, mechanic!Yoongi, holiday!au.

Genres: slice of life, humor/crack, smut and fluff

Rating: mature/explicit/R18 (This is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact.)

Disclaimer: I do not own BTS or know them personally and this work of fiction is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. The actions and personalities described in the story do not reflect those of BTS— it’s just fiction. Also, if you would kindly read the tags/warnings before reading, that would be lovely: and if you don’t like whatever is described in the tags, just hit return and find something else to read. Thank you 🌸

Word Count: 10.3K

Warnings (general) + triggers: sex while pregnant, minor car accident, a lot of crack and humor too, because otherwise it wouldn’t be friendcation. Slight angst. Possessive Yoongi. Jimin deserves a warning too 👀 (it’s always Jimin)! Giving birth in a car in a somewhat detailed description (without medical help). Breastfeeding a baby. A lot of kissing.

Warnings (explicit): smut in the form of unprotected sex, fingering, dirty talk, praise kink, breast play, nipple play (with a little bit of lactation), flashing/exposure of vagina and boobs, comfort sex (Yoongi making sure OC is comfortable the whole time 🥺), strong orgasms, blood (because of childbirth, but barely mentioned).

Author’s note: this couple just wouldn’t leave me alone 😂 So here we are, with a winter special. I really hope you like it. It was so fun to write, I just love their relationship and then also with their friends, especially Jimin 🤭 I might do more specials through time, I don’t know. Don’t know if people are interested (but I’d probably write it anyway, lol). Like, we still don’t know how Yoongi proposed, their wedding, their honeymoon 👀

This has different povs, mainly Yoongi's, then Jimin's and reader's (I hope it isn't too confusing).

Thank you so much – and thanks to all that likes, comments, reblogs, yeah, anything. Thank you from the bottom of my heart, it makes me so happy and a damn smiling fool 💜

Taglist: @idkjustlovingbts @constancelayon @wobblewobble822 @ktownshizzle @moonchild1 @ultimatefangirl0 @baechugff @jimintaemin @parapiop7 @fckkntired @iluvfndms @citypop-princess @tarahardcore @bergandysam @massivelyfullenthusiast @tatyhend @gimeow *strikethrough means tumblr isn’t letting me tag you :( **if you wish to be removed from the taglist, let me know 🌸

It’s been cross posted to AO3 if you prefer to read there.

He is used to it.

But ever since you became pregnant, it’s been getting worse.

Your sleep moaning, that is.

And it’s always turning him on.

His frustration simmers beneath the surface, fueled by the magnetic allure you effortlessly wield. Yet, with a single glance from you, his resolve melts away like butter on a warm summer day. This magnetic power you wield over him isn't a recent revelation; it's been your enchanting spell, cast long before that memorable camping trip more than a year ago.

Memories surge like a tidal wave, setting his irises ablaze with vivid snapshots of you both, entwined amidst the intimate cocoon of his van, sheets tangled in the echoes of passion.

Countless adventures and camping escapades have unfolded since that fateful journey with your friends, yet it's the kaleidoscope of memories created with you that he holds as precious treasures, each moment a vibrant gem in the tapestry of your relationship.

At last, his gaze shifts towards you, and he beholds the tranquility that graces your sleeping form, nestled beside him. There you lie, on your back nonetheless, which really mustn't be nice considering your big belly.

You’re almost nine months pregnant and the baby can come any minute, he knows.

You’d been trying to conceive for some time, a delightful excuse to have sex all the damn time–although, truth be told, he never needed one.

He feels his dick strain against the confines of his boxers and he wonders whether to rouse you from slumber, it's not merely the urgency of his arousal but the genuine concern for your well-being—your supine position hindering blood flow and oxygen to the precious life within your belly.

Thus, with a tender touch, he delicately stirs you from your peaceful slumber.

Initially met with silence, your slumbering form stirs slightly, emitting a soft murmur of both moans and snores.

A soft chuckle escapes him as he observes your endearing response, yet undeterred, he persists in gently prodding you.

In a hushed and tender tone, he attempts to reach out to you with a gentle “Babe,” his voice a delicate whisper, carrying the weight of affection.

As your head gracefully pivots towards him, your eyes, like delicate butterflies, flutter open in response to the gentle call. A soft smile graces his lips, a silent serenade to the gradual awakening of your consciousness.

As consciousness fully embraces you, your eyes roam the dimly lit room before finding solace in his gaze.”Why did you wake me? It’s the middle of the night…” you inquire, the bedroom's shadows bearing witness to the query that hangs in the air.

With a gentle yawn, you pivot your body, settling into the comforting curve of your side. In the quiet accomplishment of this subtle shift, one of his cherished missions finds completion.

In a tender tone infused with love, he begins, “You were sleeping on your back. It’s not good for the baby,” his words a gentle caress carrying the weight of concern for the precious life cradled within your belly.

A warmth infuses your smile as you meet his gaze, a silent acknowledgment of gratitude for the depth of his concern and the wellspring of love that envelops you both.

And with a playful chuckle lacing his words, he adds, “And you were moaning too.” Your laughter joins his, and you both know what this means.

“You’re always horny, Yoon.” you tease, your hands exploring the contours of his body with purpose. Swiftly finding the elastic of his boxers, you trace the outline of his dick with a deliberate touch, a dance of desire that unfolds seamlessly between you.

Your hand glides sensually over him, a teasing caress through the fabric of his boxers, and a guttural groan of pleasure escapes his lips.

He seizes your hand, bringing a pause to the tantalizing dance between you. “Do you want to, babe?” he inquires, his gaze a reflection of both restraint and anticipation, hanging on the unspoken words between you.

A soft chuckle escapes your lips, your body and mind fully alive, the air already charged with the unmistakable electricity that Yoongi seems to effortlessly ignite within you. You’re already soaked in your panties, and with a whispered moan, you confess, “Yes, I need you Yoongi.”

Gently guiding your hand away from his cock, he inches closer, turning you to lay on your side facing away from him.

Swiftly seizing his pillow, he artfully tucks it beneath the gentle curve of your belly, sculpting a cocoon of support and comfort.

Nestling his head into the crook of your neck, he inhales deeply, savoring the heady and intoxicating essence that is uniquely yours. It's more than a fragrance; it's a potent elixir that courses through him, a sensory drug that elicits an involuntary response—a subtle, primal twitch in the fabric of boxers.

A low, guttural moan escapes his lips, intimately shared in the cocoon of your embrace, as he senses your shiver echo through his touch.His skilled hand embarks on a journey, tenderly caressing your breasts, lingering over the soft expanse of your tummy where the fluttering life within makes its presence known. As his exploration ventures lower, he cups your pussy outside your panties.

Your hips undulate into his dick, a rhythmic dance that draws an involuntary duet of pleasure-laden moans from both of you. His awareness sharpens, attuned to the undeniable evidence of your arousal. With a deliberate touch, he tugs your panties aside, revealing your drenched pussy.

Initiating a delicate exploration, he trails his fingertips along the contours of your folds, gathering the essence of your arousal before skillfully guiding a single digit into the velvety warmth of your desire.

With a rhythmic precision, he starts a sensual dance, his digit sliding in and out of your eager core. Each movement draws forth an increasing symphony of heavy pants, and he can already hear that you’re not gonna last long.

Adding another skilled finger, he intensifies the intimate pleasure, a seamless union of sensation as your bodies synchronize in a provocative dance. Your backside grinds into the rigid length of his desire, fueling his fervor to push the limits further. With an escalating pace, his fingers move within you, a crescendo of pleasure building with every adept stroke.

Breathless and on the precipice of ecstasy, you urgently plead, “I'm so close, Yoongi. Touch my clit instead,” your voice a desperate plea. He complies with a deft move, withdrawing his slickened fingers from the depths of your core to redirect their attention, skillfully navigating the peaks of your pussy with an intoxicating dance against your throbbing clit.

Yoongi has become attuned to the cadence of your breath, a masterful symphony that he has memorized like the back of his hand. In the harmonious rhythm, he discerns the telltale signs that you are on the precipice of ecstasy—so close that the intoxicating anticipation hangs in the air like an electric charge.

His fingers move in a tantalizing dance, tracing circles around your clit with an intimate familiarity. As he senses you teetering on the brink, your breaths hang heavy in the charged air, and the ethereal moans escape your lips like a whispered melody. In a bold move, he pinches your clit. Your body responds in an electric surge, tension radiating through every inch of your being, held in the exquisite grip of his deliberate touch.

Returning to the rhythmic circles on your clit, he guides you through the waves of your orgasm, a seismic tremor that reverberates through your being. Each stroke of his touch acts as a steady anchor, grounding you in the aftermath of what feels like an earth-shattering climax.

You gasp for air, your breaths coming in furious bursts, and in a voice drawn out with need, you moan his name—a melody of pleasure that lingers in the charged air between you.

“'Fuck!” escapes you in a guttural moan, your hands clenching into fists under the watchful gaze of his darkened, appreciative eyes.

Withdrawing his hand from the depths of your core, he endeavors to temper the tempestuous movements coursing through you, a steadying touch anchoring your fervent reactions with a gentle grip on your hips.

“'Damn. It's like the orgasm is lingering,” you confess in a strained voice, leaving Yoongi uncertain whether to interpret it as a blissful prolongation or a potential intensity that might overwhelm you.

“What do you mean?” he inquires, his voice a warm breath against your neck.

“It's just... I can feel it all the way around my stomach,” you pant, the lingering sensations creating a unique symphony within you. “Ah, it's probably Braxton Hicks contractions, because of the orgasm,” you assert with a newfound certainty. In response, Yoongi hums in acknowledgment, his hand delicately finding its place on your belly, where he can feel the subtle tightness.

“Are you sure it’s just that?” he questions, his concern etched in the furrow of his brow. Yet, as your assurance unfolds, a palpable relaxation courses through the muscles of your belly. “Yeah, they're fading now,” you confirm.

“Yoongi, I need you inside me now,” you declare, your words a sultry plea as you sensually grind your ass into the rigid bulge within his boxers.

With a sharp intake of breath, he hisses, seizing your hips in a possessive grip, molding you against the heat of his pelvis.

Effortlessly, he peels your panties down your thighs, and you willingly lift your legs to aid in their complete removal. As he holds the damp evidence of your arousal in his hand, a wicked glint in his eyes betrays the realization, damn they are soaked. Without a second thought, he discards them to the floor.

“'Is this position comfortable for you?” he tenderly inquires, a gentle concern threading through his words as he sheds his boxers. Adjusting his position, he moves slightly, aligning himself with the contours of your core from behind.

“Yeah, I’m good.”

Lying down and approaching from behind, the fit feels unusually snug. Yoongi, with deliberate intent, spreads your ass cheeks, his hand tracing a teasing path before he strokes his arousal, the anticipation building. As he aligns with the entrance to your core, a slow and deliberate entrance ensues, eliciting a moan from you.

An almost primal growl escapes your lips as he sinks in, each agonizingly slow inch a delicious torment. It's not just amazing; it's an exquisite tightness that makes you acutely aware of his presence, as if you can feel him reverberating through every fiber of your being, from the deepest reaches of your pussy to the intimate confines of your uterus.

Yoongi indulges in a series of deliberate thrusts, each movement a slow dance that unveils the exquisite tightness enveloping him. With each rhythmic advance into your core, he keenly senses the escalating tension in your body.

“Yoon,” you pant, the syllables a breathless plea that lingers in the charged air. Yoongi, attuned to your every reaction, halts his movements, his hand tenderly caressing your cheek. “I can feel you everywhere inside, fuck.”

“Is it good, or should we stop?” he asks, a genuine concern etched across his features. His desire is not just for pleasure but for your comfort and satisfaction.

“No, it's good for now, but I'll let you know if it gets too intense, okay? Maybe we can change positions then?” you inquire, your voice a sultry whisper that hangs in the air. As you sensually grind your ass down into his pelvis, fucking yourself on his cock, a soft moan leaves your lips.

Yoongi releases a low, guttural moan against the sensitive skin of your neck, his reverberating pleasure mingling with lust between you. His hand journeys down the curve of your hips, gripping them with a possessive urgency. In this tactile exchange, he finds stability, a grounding force that allows him to drive into you once more, each thrust a testament to the fervor building between you.

As you surrender completely against him, a harmonious synchrony of pleasure unfolds. Sensing the shift, he accelerates his thrusts, a rhythmic dance that quickens the desire between you.

Yoongi inhales deeply against the canvas of your neck, and in a sudden, electrifying twist, you feel the graze of his teeth. Your body shivers with anticipation, and then he descends, sinking his teeth into your neck. Not too forcefully, but with a compelling intensity that sends a jolt of electricity down your spine. Your body responds in kind, grinding against his, and a sinful moan escapes you.

Then, with a sensual grace, he traces the path where his teeth had left their mark, his tongue delicately caressing your neck before placing soft, lingering kisses. Your response is a sultry mewl, the audible manifestation of pleasure, and in the electric aftermath, you feel a surge of arousal saturate his dick.

Breathless and on the precipice of ecstasy, you gasp, “Yoongi, I'm—,” the words trailing off into a passionate pant as he skillfully drives into you, each thrust an artful symphony of pleasure that transcends language, leaving you teetering on the edge of bliss.

“Hmm?”

His grip on your hips tightens, and with each deeper thrust, the world around you seems to blur as you swear that, despite the physical limitations of the position, you can feel him everywhere. It's an overwhelming sensation, almost too much.

“I want to change positions,” you pant, and in an instant, Yoongi withdraws, his response swift and attentive. With a purposeful motion, he turns you around, orchestrating a seamless transition that repositions you to face him once again.

“What do you want to do?” he smiles, his gaze tender as he caresses your cheek with the gentle strokes of his long, slender fingers. In the delicate dance of his touch, you feel an overwhelming sense of love and appreciation.

“I want to ride you,” you confess, leaning in to capture his lips in a soft kiss. As you pull away, a playful smile dances across your face, your eyes reflecting a potent mix of love and lust.

“Fuck, yeah, babe,” he breathes in eager agreement, turning to lie on his back. As you discard the pillow he thoughtfully fetched for you, you proceed to shed your nightgown, leaving both of you completely bare.

With a graceful motion, you hike one leg over his body, settling into a commanding straddle. Your hand confidently takes hold of his dick, aligning it with the eager warmth of your pussy again. A smile plays on your lips as you gaze down at him, relishing the empowering intimacy of having him beneath you in this moment.

His smile mirrors the adoration and appreciation he feels as he takes in every incredible feature of yours. As you descend slowly onto his cock, your face flushes a subtle shade of red, your quivering lips betraying the intensity of your desire. Your nipples stand proudly, and your gracefully rounded belly hangs low, a testament to the life you’ve both created and soon to welcome into the world.

God he loves you. So fucking much. In his eyes, you’re a goddess.

As you lower yourself onto his dick, a duet of moans escapes both of you, the soft stretch heightening the sensory experience. The angle of this position enhances the feeling, and in the synchronized exchange of pleasure, you both revel in the palpable sensation that binds you together.

“Fuck, Yoon!” you pant, the breathless exclamation escaping your lips as you reach the apex of his pelvis, his cock filling you up completely.

“'Ah! It's so much better like this,” you moan, the words dripping with satisfaction and pleasure as you take control, beginning to ride him with a rhythmic motion.

Yoongi's hands find purchase on your hips, their firm grasp not only steadying you but becoming an integral part of the rhythmic dance as you bounce on his dick.

It's undeniably exquisite, the sensation heightened by the captivating sight of you taking control, sending Yoongi into a feral state of desire. The raw power of your dominance, setting the pace and depth, fuels an irresistible fire within him. Your expressions—those eyes closing in lust, the whimpering pleas—seemingly unravel his restraint, threatening to push him over the edge.

“You look so good, bouncing on my dick. Such a good girl,” he pants, the words imbued with a husky appreciation. His hands, slightly squeezing your hips, become a tactile affirmation, letting you know that every movement is not just good but exceptionally arousing.

You keen in response to his praise, a melodious symphony of pleasure that resonates in the air. Empowered by the encouragement, you guide yourself down deeper, every movement an exquisite dance that intensifies the feeling of being incredibly full.

“Yoongi, I don't think I'm gonna last long,” you pant, the admission hanging in the air like an electrifying confession. Sensing the imminent climax, you slow your movements, the deliberate deceleration amplifying the anticipation.

“It’s fine,” he reassures you, “I’m not going to either.”

You chuckle at him, the sound a melodic blend of pleasure and fatigue as you continue to bounce on his arousal. “I'm also so damn tired. This is challenging with my belly being this big,”

“I can take over if you want—or we can try another position?” His offer is laced with genuine concern, a desire to ensure you don't strain or tire yourself unnecessarily.

“No! I love this. I want to ride you,” you moan, the words a passionate declaration as you sink down on him once more. The anticipation of your impending orgasm begins to unfurl in the depths of your stomach.

“Yoongi—, I'm close,” you pant, the admission a breathless revelation as you continue to move at a languid pace, the enticing rhythm showcasing the delightful bounce of your tits with each motion.

He has always been captivated by the allure of your tits—a mesmerizing aspect of your physicality that leaves him in awe. A part of him remains undecided, caught in the delightful dilemma of whether he prefers your tits or your ass, a choice he'd willingly forego, harboring a fervent desire for both.

Your hands find purchase on his sculpted pectorals, seeking support as exhaustion sets in, causing your movements to slow, each languid motion bringing you closer to climax. His gaze lingers on your face, a canvas painted with the intensity of the moment—sweat glistening, mouth slightly agape, and eyebrows creased in ecstasy as you fervently ride him, lost in the rhythmic dance of pleasure.

He senses a primal twitch within as he stays deep within you, and his gaze traces a path down your neck where the evidence of his love bite remains visible. Continuing his journey, his eyes appreciate the sight of your wonderful, bouncy tits.

Withdrawing both of his hands from your hips, they now tenderly grasp both of your tits. “These are so wonderful, as is every part of you,” he murmurs in a voice laced with appreciation.

You feel the walls of your pussy contract in response to his words of praise, a cascading sensation that culminates in a soft moan, his name escaping your lips like a whispered melody.

He caresses your tits, their softness, fullness, and weight filling his palms with a tangible desire. As his hands explore, he discovers your perked nipples, rolling them between his fingers in a delicate dance of pleasure.

“Yoongi!” A high-pitched moan escapes your lips, the fervent cry echoing in the charged atmosphere as you throw your head back, surrendering to the pleasure of sinking down on him once more.

He luxuriates in the splendor of your beauty, every facet of your amazing body a source of enchantment. Everything about you accelerates the rhythm of his heart, the butterflies in his stomach multiplying with each passing moment.

He gives a gentle tug on your nipple, sending a surge of sensations through your body like an electric current, a simultaneous feeling of warmth and chill enveloping you in a paradoxical embrace.

You sense a delightful tingling sensation rippling across your entire body, a prelude to an impending climax that hovers tantalizingly on the edge.

“Shit, Yoongi, I think I'm gonna come,” you moan, the admission carrying the weight of impending ecstasy.

He grunts in response, the primal sound echoing the urgency of his own impending release. “I'm close too.”

You start to sense a delightful tightness in your breasts, with Yoongi skillfully alternating between rolling your nipples, tugging, and pinching them. The exquisite play on your sensitive peaks sends shivers down your spine. Simultaneously, you become acutely aware of the wetness between your thighs, a slippery testament to the overwhelming arousal that courses through your body.

The sound of skin on skin slapping resonates through the air, a visceral percussion that punctuates the charged atmosphere. The noise sends a jolt through your body, causing your muscles to tense in response.

The tingling and prickling sensation in your breasts intensifies, creating a crescendo of arousal that surges through your body. Then, in a sudden release, you feel the pressure in them subside, a wave of pleasure ebbing away like a tide.

Yoongi watches in awe as a gush of milk shoots out of your tits, creating a mesmerizing display that soon turns into a sensuous drip. His finger skillfully rolls your nipples, the fluid covering them and your tits in a glistening sheen of your breastmilk. Fuck it’s hot. He feels his dick twitch again, as he keeps looking at your tits.

You sense a wetness on your breasts and instinctively glance down, only to be met with a wave of horror as you realize you've begun lactating. In an instant, you cover your bobs, a mix of shock and embarrassment washing over you. The sudden shift in your body leaves you feeling vulnerable and a bit grossed out.

“I'm so sorry,” you begin, breathless words escaping your lips as you continue to fuck yourself on his dick.

“You don't have to be sorry, babe. It's natural and sexy,” he reassures you with a loving smile, a genuine attempt to dispel any insecurity. His eyes, filled with both warmth and desire, convey a message beyond words—that he not only doesn't mind but finds the situation undeniably hot.

“Please let me touch them,” he pleads with a rare vulnerability in his usually composed demeanor.

You take a moment to contemplate, acknowledging that while you might not find it as inherently sexy as he does, the arousal sparked by his desire for you is undeniably enticing. Embracing the vulnerability, you lean in and press your tits closer to his face, your tummy meeting his, as you concede with a whispered “okay.”

You release your breasts from your grasp, and like a magnet seeking its counterpart, his hands find them once more. With deliberate tenderness, he begins to massage your tts, each slow and deliberate stroke creating ripples of pleasure that resonate through your body.

As you move up and down on his length, the kaleidoscope of emotions—love, lust, and adoration—mirrored in Yoongi's eyes sends a shiver down your spine. In that charged moment, overwhelmed by the intensity of his gaze, you feel like you could die a happy woman.

His fingers resume their dance, skillfully rolling your nipples and coating them with the warm fluid of your breast milk.

With a newfound determination, you pick up the pace, fervently chasing the brink of your orgasm. Yoongi, fully immersed in the moment, continues to fondle your tits with an affectionate touch.

“Ah! Yoongi, it's so good!” you moan with a symphony of pleasure as you lower yourself onto him, and in response, he tugs a little harder on your nipples.

“Fuck,” you pant, breathless, the sensation of being so thoroughly filled with desire and pleasure overwhelming your senses.

As your stomach tightens, the internal coil finally springs free, and you unleash your slick juices on his dick. A surge of ecstasy washes over you, rendering your vision blurry, a temporary blindness overcome by the intensity of pleasure. A strange ringing noise fills your ears, and your body collapses against Yoongi's in a state of blissful surrender.

With remarkable speed, he intercepts your naked form before it collides with him, his strong and firm hands seizing your hips to anchor you on top of him.

You man fervently, the echoes of your climax still reverberating through your body. In the throes of your descent from ecstasy, a desperate plea escapes your lips, “Yoongi, please fcuk me.”

With a firm grip on your hips, he squeezes them again, initiating a rapid and relentless pace of thrusting into you. The urgency in his movements mirrors the crescendo of desire building within him as he fervently chases his own impending orgasm.

Fuck, it was hot to witness you unravel in such ecstasy. The lingering sensation of your walls pulsating around his dick lingers, as if you're tightly embracing him, and he revels in it. Being inside you, outside you, every facet of connection with you fuels a deep and insatiable love within him.

“Fuck, babe – you’re so tight!” he moans in pure delight. As you sit up, a newfound intensity in your movements, your hands find your tits, skillfully rolling your nipples, and a rivulet of breast milk drips out. Fuck. That will be his undoing.

“Ah, babe—,” he moans your name with a drawn-out, languid tone, his eyes unable to tear away from the sinful allure of your face and the captivating sight of your incredible tits.

Inexplicably, your walls continue to throb around him, coaxing an unbridled release from him. A guttural moan of your name escapes his lips, a primal declaration of the intensity of the moment, synchronized with the eruption of his warm seed, cascading into the depths of your pulsating pussy.

“Fuck!” he pants, his thrusts persisting a few times before he deftly lifts you, positioning you higher on his stomach. In the aftermath of shared ecstasy, both of you lost in the haze of pleasure, the residue of your combined orgasms coats and binds you together, a slick and intimate testament to the intensity of lust.

“Ah…” you moan, a sultry melody escaping your lips as you descend into Yoongi's embrace. Despite the undertones of desire that lace your voice, he can't help but wonder what might be amiss as he sees pain etched in your face.

“What’s wrong, babe?” he inquires, his gaze locking onto your lustful eyes as he seeks to unravel the secrets veiled behind their desire-laden depths.

“I think I’m still orgasming,” you pant, rising once more, “it’s like my body won’t stop.” A shared gaze lingers between you, uncertainty flickering in both your eyes as the lingering waves of pleasure blur the lines between ecstasy and the unknown.

“Is it good or bad though?” he probes, a furrow forming on his brow as he attempts to unravel the mystery. “It’s not bad, but my tummy feels so tight,” your hand guides his to the firmness, and indeed, it does feel tight.

“Hmmm…” he contemplates the peculiar situation, his curiosity piqued but not overly concerned. “I’ll grab some towels and clean us up. Let’s wait a moment to see if it subsides, alright?”

You nod at him, then gracefully ease down from his lap, sprawling on your side, the remnants of passion and desire lingering in the air as you continue to pant for the sweet breath of satisfaction.

Yoongi gracefully rises from the bed, navigating the darkness of the night with an innate sense of purpose. He effortlessly locates your bathroom, skillfully secures a handful of towels, and returns to your bedroom with a quiet assurance, the dim shadows highlighting his silhouette as he prepares to tend to your shared aftermath.

“Here—, I–” With a sudden urgency, he tosses the towels aside as his eyes widen at the sight of you. Your figure is curled in on itself, hands instinctively cradling your stomach, every muscle in your body taut and tense.

“Yoongi, I think I’m in labor,” you declare, the gravity of the moment reflected not just in your words but also in the silent agony etched across your face, a shared understanding mirrored in the intensity of his gaze.

And then it hits him like a tidal wave; the tightness in your tummy was contractions. A surge of realization floods over him—shit, it’s happening. You're having your baby. In the whirlwind of emotions, he battles to remain calm, to steady himself for the pivotal moments ahead.

“Okay. Let's time the contractions and then call the hospital, okay?” he says, a sense of urgency in his voice, frantically searching for his phone on the nightstand.

“Let me know the moment you sense the beginning of a contraction,” he instructs, poised to start the timer.

“Right now,” you gasp, clutching your stomach tightly. The sensation grips you, an intense pressure, especially at the apex, and then, moments later, it releases. “It’s gone now.”

“Almost a minute,” he observes, his tone laden with the realization that you're edging closer to the throes of labor.

“Describe them to me. Are they intense? The pain worries me, seeing you in discomfort tears me apart,” he inquires, genuine concern etched across his face as he tries to understand what you're going through.

“Just a hint of pain, nothing unbearable. I can handle it,” you reassure with a soft chuckle, a resilient spirit shining through despite the discomfort, and he finds solace in your strength.

“Let's keep an eye on the contractions for about an hour, and then we'll give the hospital a call,” he suggests, retrieving the towels scattered on the floor earlier with a sense of urgency.

“While we wait, let me take care of you,” he proposes, coming closer with a towel. Gently lifting one of your legs, he begins to clean you, erasing the traces of our orgasms.

Your body quivers in response to his tender touch, eliciting delicate moans that dance in the air.

“Fuck. I don’t know why, but it’s turning me on, Yoon.” You moan softly, unable to explain the unexpected arousal, but your body instinctively grinds against the towel, turning a simple act into a sensual dance of lust.

A playful chuckle escapes him as he tends to your aftermath, skillfully cleaning you up. Satisfied with the tender care he has given you, he proceeds to clean himself up. Together, you reclaim your clothing, sitting down in your bed anxiously waiting for your contractions to pick up.

As the cadence of contractions quickens, Yoongi takes decisive action, reaching out to the hospital to announce the fact that you’re in labor. With a voice poised between urgency and excitement, he navigates the conversation, detailing the progression of your contractions over the past hour. He wants to know how you should proceed.

As anticipation swirls in the air like a palpable force, Yoongi's voice resonates with a newfound sense of joy. “They've given us the green light to drive to the hospital,” he announces, his eyes reflecting the shared excitement. As you both perch on the edge of the bed, he turns to you with a practical inquiry, “Where did you stash your hospital bag?”

Your gesture guides him to the dresser, and with a graceful sweep, Yoongi retrieves your carefully prepared hospital bag. His voice, a comforting melody, invites you to join him, “Come, we can go now.”

Guiding you with a gentle hand, Yoongi accompanies you to the entryway of your home, a silent pact of shared determination. The darkness outside, coupled with the December chill, calls for the practicality of boots and a warm coat.

Assertively reaching for Yoongi's car keys, you declare, “I can drive.” The shift in Yoongi's expression is so abrupt, it's as if you've caught a fleeting glimpse of a storm cloud on a clear day, the sour twist on his face a testament to the unexpectedness of your statement.

His voice takes on a stern edge, swiftly denying your attempt to take the wheel. Yoongi snatches the keys from your grasp, his firm tone leaving no room for negotiation. “It’s not safe for you to drive in the midst of contractions,” he insists, a protective glint in his eyes amplifying the weight of his concern.

“But it’s not that bad,” you argue, why, you don’t really know.

“Look, babe. I know you can do everything by yourself, you’re strong, and I love you for it. But you’re not driving the car,” he says with a tone that brooks no argument, a gentle firmness underlining his love and concern for your well-being.

As you both prepare and the keys find their place in Yoongi's firm grip, you swing the door wide open, only to be greeted by a blanket of white—the snow-draped landscape stretching across the grass, road, and your car. To top it off, gentle snowflakes dance down from the heavens. Fuck.

“Ugh, it’s going to take forever driving into the city in this weather,” you grumble, trudging your way towards the car through the dense, snow-laden path. The flakes fall thick and heavy, making it difficult to see ahead.

Yoongi grumbles under his breath, popping the trunk to stow away your bag. With meticulous care, he ensures you've got everything essential for the journey. Satisfied, you both slide into the car, ready to face the challenges the snowy night has in store.

“It's going to be alright, babe,” he reassures you, his hand gently covering yours before tenderly moving to your belly. “Can't wait to finally meet you.”

Yoongi is accustomed to navigating challenging weather conditions on the road, his driving skills unaffected by the snow. However, the incompetence of other drivers in snowy conditions infuriates him. Inside the cocoon of your car, he vents his frustration, unleashing a symphony of curses directed at everyone causing chaos on the wintry roads.

“Ease up on the road rage, Yoongi. I don't want our little one picking up a vocabulary lesson in expletives before they even arrive,” you chime in, settling deeper into the seat, your concern for the baby evident in your voice.

“Babe, seriously, who ventures out on the road without a clue about driving in the snow? And it's the crack of dawn—why is everyone suddenly on a snow-day adventure?” Yoongi grumbles in exasperation, his frustration bringing a smile to your face despite the situation.

“Have you forgotten it’s Christmas time?” you quip, chuckling as he gapes at you, realization dawning on him. Damn, he had indeed forgotten.

“We haven’t even reached the city yet and there’s already so many cars,” he complains some more, and you let him. His voice, a melody that always soothes, even in the midst of chaotic Christmas traffic.

“They’re going home to their families—, watch out!” you point at the car in front of you, its headlights blazing like a comet in the snowy morning, almost blinding in their intensity.

Yoongi's keen eyes caught sight of the car in the opposite lane, and it became painfully evident that the driver couldn't navigate the snowy roads to save their life. Inexplicably, this inept driver seemed to believe they owned the road, arrogantly straddling both lanes. Distinguishing one lane from another was challenging in the snowy chaos, but it wasn't rocket science either.

Yoongi skillfully swerves the car to the side, narrowly avoiding a collision with the vehicle in front. The abrupt move sends a rumble through the car as it navigates the bumpy terrain, plowing through a massive mound of snow hastily shoved to the side.

The car grinds to a halt, Yoongi unleashing a string of colorful curses directed at the absent driver. Now, you find yourselves stranded in the unforgiving grip of the snow.

His concerned gaze shifts to you, seeking reassurance. “Are you okay, babe?” he asks, and although you appear unharmed, your response carries the weight of the unexpected. “Yeah, I'm okay. Just a bit shaken.”

As he hums a soothing melody, his attempts to reassure you echo in the confined space, yet beneath the surface, he senses the gradual erosion of his own calm demeanor.

“That fucking jerk,” his frustration intensifies as he hisses about the reckless driver, but you, amidst the escalating contractions, offer soothing reassurance, masking the growing urgency within the car.

“I'll assess the damage outside, okay?” he proposes, seeking your consent. You nod, delving into your bag for a snack, a sudden wave of hunger overtaking you amid the unfolding situation.

Yoongi steps out into the freezing cold, the car's engine humming in the background. He surveys the vehicle, searching for any visible damage, but to his relief, nothing appears broken or in need of immediate repair.

The towering mound of snow engulfs the car, rendering the hood invisible. Yoongi, realizing the severity of the situation, understands that extricating the vehicle from this icy trap is no easy feat. The sheer depth of the snow suggests a challenging predicament, one that requires assistance. Knowing you're in no condition to lend a hand, he contemplates the help he'll need to navigate the car out of this wintry predicament.

He reenters the car, discovering you engrossed in a candy bar, and a hearty chuckle escapes his lips.

Between bites, you inquire, “I was hungry. How's the car?”

“It's stuck pretty bad in the snow pile. Can't get it out myself,” he begins, but you interrupt with a smile, “I can help you with that.”

“Have you forgotten that you're in labor?” he laughs, his voice raspy from the cold outside. “And you're not going out to shovel snow. We don't even have shovels,” he adds, sharing a hearty laugh with you.

“I thought you had all kinds of things in the car,” you chuckle, finishing your candy bar with a mischievous glint in your eyes.

“Yeah, but not shovels,” his laughter resonates in the car, a contagious sound that brings a smile to your face.

“What are we gonna do then, just wait?” you inquire, a hint of worry coloring your voice as the realization dawns that you might not make it to the hospital in time.

“I’ll call Jimin and ask him to come help,” he declares, urgency in his tone as he swiftly pulls out his phone, dialing Jimin’s number with determination.

Even in the early morning hush, Jimin's phone vibrates, and he glances at the caller ID to find Yoongi's name flashing. It's an unusual call at this hour, sparking an immediate concern that propels him to answer without hesitation.

“Hey, Yoongi hyung, something wrong?” His voice, tinged with worry and genuine concern, breaks the silence of the room as he answers the call. He rises from the bed, instantly alert to the unusual urgency in Yoongi's early morning summons.

“We had a car accident,” Yoongi's words hang heavy in the air, shattering the tranquility of the room. Jimin's reaction is immediate, a storm of worry and disbelief brewing within him. He erupts from the bed, shouting into the phone, “What??” The sheer concern in his voice mirrors the gravity of the situation.

Yoongi's reassurance echoes through the phone, a soothing balm to his frayed nerves. “It's minor, relax,” he utters, and the calmness in his voice acts as a lifeline, pulling him back from the edge of panic.

“A guy forced us off the road, and we ended up plowing into a massive snowbank. Now, the damn car's wedged in tight,” Yoongi recounts, frustration coloring his words. Jimin, attentive, absorbs the details. “Think you can come lend a hand? Bring some shovels. I'll shoot you our coordinates,” Yoongi requests, the urgency evident in his tone.

Jimin readily agrees to help, his concern palpable through the phone. However, he can't shake the worry as he inquires, “Are you guys okay? And ___? How's the baby?”

“Yeah, we're all fine,” Yoongi reassures, his voice a bit raspy. Jimin strains to catch some muffled sounds on the other end, unable to discern the details.

He glances at the dropped location on his phone, “I can be there in about 30 minutes,” he assures Yoongi, swiftly rising from his bed to grab some warm clothes.

“Thank you, Jimin.”

As the promised 30 minutes Jimin assured you passed an hour ago, he couldn't help but wonder if you were growing impatient with the prolonged wait.

Jimin spots your car on the roadside, its hazard lights casting an eerie glow, and he expertly maneuvers his own vehicle to a stop right behind yours.

He steps out, ready to retrieve tools from the trunk, but his attention is abruptly stolen by piercing screams emanating from your car. His muscles tense, and without a second thought, he dashes towards the source of the cries.

Why are you screaming? What's going on, and why are the windows so foggy?

With an overpowering urgency, he wrenches open the left door to the backseats, sending it flinging wide, the metallic screech echoing the urgency pulsing through his veins.

He hadn't anticipated the shocking scene that unfolded before him; there you were, legs pressed against the headrest on both the front and back seats, completely exposed from the waist down. He can clearly see your vagina. Fuck, your vagina is big—wait, something is coming out of it!

Yoongi catches Jimin unabashedly staring at your vagina, prompting an eye roll from him. What's with Jimin? Having already witnessed your tits and now your vagina, it annoys Yoongi to no end. He's possessive; the idea of others seeing you in such a vulnerable state doesn't sit well with him. Sharing is not his forte.

He hisses sharply, capturing Jimin's attention, all while the symphony of your agonized screams continues to pierce the air.

“Stop looking at her vagina, man! You’ve seen enough of her, Jimin,” Yoongi snaps, frustration dripping from his words as your writhing form remains nestled against his supporting frame.

Jimin's eyes widen in disbelief, his mouth agape at the unexpected scene. He quickly redirects his gaze to Yoongi, his expression a mix of shock and apology as he stammers, “I—I didn't mean to, Yoongi, I'm so sorry!”

You clutch your thighs tightly, a guttural scream escaping your lips as the contraction envelops you. Once it recedes, you direct an exasperated shout at Jimin, “Close the damn door! You’re letting all the cold air in.”

Jimin snaps out of his daze, berating himself for standing there like a fool. Swiftly, he slips into the driver's seat, positioning himself to face the backseats with a determined look on his face.

“How long has she been in labor?” Jimin queries Yoongi, who glances up from your panting form for a moment before responding, “A few hours, actually.”

“You could have mentioned that when you called!” Jimin hisses in frustration. Not that the information would have made a big difference, given that the snow was the primary cause of his tardiness.

“But that’s a long time. I can see the head coming out,” he informs, prompting both you and Yoongi to exchange amused eye rolls.

“Yeah, she's crowning,” Yoongi adds with a soft stroke to your cheeks, his touch a comforting anchor as you brace yourself for another contraction.

“What can I do to help? I don't think we can get the car ready in time to make it to the hospital,” Jimin inquires, his gaze shifting between you and Yoongi with a mix of concern and determination.

“I already realized I’m having this baby in the backseat of a fucking car. Serves me right — getting fucked in a car, giving birth in a car. I’ve come full circle!” you laugh hysterically between contractions, the situation not lost on you. Jimin shifts uncomfortably in the driver's seat, but Yoongi remains a steady rock, his presence grounding you amidst the chaos.

As Yoongi directs his attention to Jimin, he suggests, “Maybe you could call the hospital and check if they can send an ambulance our way, just in case. I haven't had a moment to make that call yet.” His fingers trace soothing circles on your thighs, a stark contrast to the urgency of your sudden need to push.

Jimin's face reflects genuine concern as he admits he's never witnessed someone in labor before, only having gleaned insights from movies. However, a memory surfaces—advice from Seokjin after his girlfriend gave birth. “You can try changing positions, something where gravity can aid the baby's descent,” he shares, a eureka moment breaking through the tension.

Following Jimin's suggestion, you and Yoongi exchange a glance filled with gratitude and amazement. Acting on the advice, you shift positions, moving to sit over the seats with your upper body draped across them, your face turned towards the back. The atmosphere is tense, yet the three of you share a determined resolve in the face of the unexpected delivery.

With Yoongi's steady support, you manage to assume a half-standing, half-seated position, your body poised for the imminent arrival of your baby. Meanwhile, the car fills with the sound of Jimin's urgent voice as he communicates with the hospital over the phone.

“They are sending an ambulance now,” he informs.

Gratitude colors Yoongi's urgent request, a plea wrapped in the intensity of the moment. “Thank you, Jimin. Could you come back here and lend a hand?” he implores, a mix of worry and determination in his voice, as you cling to the rhythm of your breaths, navigating the storm of contractions.

He teases with a nonchalant shrug, “I thought you didn't want me looking.” Yet, it's clear he's here to assist you; after all, you're his ride or die, and in this crucial moment, his quip holds a trace of underlying devotion and readiness to stand by your side.

In a playful retort, he asserts, “Bold of you to assume I wanted you to look at her vagina again. There are other ways to assist, you know. I'll keep vagina watch—she's my wife,” emphasizing the relationship he shares with you, as Jimin exits the car to join you in the backseat.

Your tired yet grateful gaze meets Jimin's as you acknowledge, “You were right, Jimin. This position is a game-changer. The pressure has eased up a bit.” Despite the sweat-soaked exhaustion etched on your face, a soft smile conveys your appreciation.

For a second, Jimin doesn’t know what to do – can he touch you? Where? How can he help?

“Fuck it hurts!” Agony courses through you, each breath a struggle as you arch your back, a desperate attempt to wrestle against the relentless ache.

As the waves of pain intensify, he instinctively rests his hand on the small of your back, gently tracing soothing circles. To his relief, he witnesses the tension in your body slowly surrender to the rhythmic comfort of his touch.

Summoning all his composure, Yoongi bravely steals a glance downward, discovering a tuft of hair signaling the imminent arrival. Damn. He knows he must remain composed, steady—for you.

“How did you go into labor anyway? How did the water break, was it like in the movies?” Jimin launches into a barrage of questions, his curiosity pouring out like an unbridled stream. You shoot a glare his way, practically hurling invisible daggers in his direction at the audacity of his inquiries.

His hands continue their soothing circles on your lower back as he asks, “What?” Yoongi resurfaces, his expression a blank canvas.

And suddenly, realization flashes across Jimin's face. “You totally fucked! And then she went into labor!” he exclaims, a mix of shock and amusement in his voice.

You hiss in pain, your fingers clenching the seat with a vice-like grip, the intensity of the moment etched in the white-knuckle grasp of your hands.

Both your expressions affirm Jimin's earlier assumption, a silent confirmation that lingers in the charged air of the confined space.

“Shit, I can’t do this,” you gasp, exhaustion etched across your face, your body seemingly on the brink of surrender.

“You're almost there, babe. It's safe to keep pushing,” Yoongi reassures you with a tender kiss on your cheek, but you push him away, a fiery glare in your gaze.

“This is all your fault. You and your damn big dick!” you scream at him, and he understands, recognizing it as your pain talking and not the real you. Jimin chuckles from beside you, and you turn to give him a death glare, saying, “Don’t act so innocent, Mr. ‘I think Yoongi likes you.’”

“But I was right. And now you're about to have his baby. It's going to be okay,” Jimin reassures you, his hand gently rubbing your back.

“Just relax,” Jimin adds.

“Easy for you to say; a baby isn't shooting out of your body,” you huff, the intensity of your anger subsiding.

“I know it hurts, babe. But focus on your breathing, and when you're ready, push with all you've got,” Yoongi encourages, leaning in to kiss you on the lips.

The kiss sends electric shivers down your spine, and strangely, it acts as a calming balm, making the pain feel somewhat more bearable.

When he pulls away, he notices the lingering frown on your face, and a sense of curiosity washes over him. “It was nice, Yoongi. I think it helps alleviate the pain,” you admit, your voice a mixture of exhaustion and appreciation.

“Kiss me again,” you pant, your desperation echoing in the quiet space of the car. Yoongi obliges, capturing your lips with a hunger that elicits a moan from deep within you. In that stolen moment, the world fades away, forgotten in the intoxicating blend of passion and the rhythmic circles Jimin traces on your back.

“Don’t mind me. But I think the baby is coming, I can see more of its head just from here,” he informs, his eyes wide with a mix of awe and amusement. Yoongi's gaze follows Jimin's, confirming the imminent arrival.

He positions his hands underneath your core, preparing to catch your baby as soon as it emerges. Yet, your screams of pain prompt a plea, “Please distract me with kisses,” you cry out, your hands clenching around the seats in a desperate search for relief.

Yoongi glances up at you, your pain evident, and the desperate desire for relief palpable in your eyes. However, he's torn between wanting to provide comfort and being there to catch and deliver your baby. A moment of realization dawns upon him – he can't be in two places at once, something Jimin seems to realize too.

Yoongi gazes at Jimin, a silent plea for guidance evident in his eyes, but Jimin, with a mischievous grin, utters, “You've got two choices, hyung – catch the baby or let me kiss your wife. What's it gonna be?”

Yoongi gapes at him, astounded by the audacity Jimin displays in even suggesting such a choice. He's acutely aware of his own possessiveness, and Jimin knows how much he fucking wants to deliver his own child. He’s caught between a rock and a hard place.

With a sense of urgency, you turn your head and implore, “Do something! I don't care who kisses me, just someone, please!” Your plea echoes with a mixture of sternness and desperation, the pain coursing through your entire body amplifying the need for any distraction.

Yoongi moves with unwavering determination, ascending once more. “Fine. Deliver the baby. You're going to be the godfather anyway,” he grumbles to Jimin, reaching your head and pressing his lips plush against yours. Instantly, you relax, a moan escaping in the midst of the chaos.

“I am?” Jimin questions, uncertainty lacing his voice. Yet, he positions his hands beneath your vagina, mirroring Yoongi's earlier gesture.

You eagerly press your lips to Yoongi's, seeking out his tongue in a passionate exchange, panting and moaning in response to the surge of arousal coursing through you. Amid the heated kiss, you offer affirmative murmurs to Jimin, your desires spoken through the intensity of the embrace with Yoongi.

“It's working, the baby is coming out,” Jimin exclaims with a mix of excitement and focus, his hands securing the baby's head with delicate precision to ensure a safe descent into the world.

Yoongi abandons your mouth, tracing a fiery path down to your neck, his lips leaving a trail of searing kisses and tantalizing bites. Your response is an involuntary groan, a symphony of pleasure escaping your lips, as you gasp out, “Fuuuck, Yoongi.”

“The head is completely out now!” Jimin’s voice breaks through the intense moment and in response, you instinctively grab Yoongi’s head, pulling him back up into a passionate kiss.

As your lips entwine in an ardently sensual dance, the symphony of pleasure resonates, eliciting increasingly fervent moans from you.

Breaking away, you gasp, “Fuck. Why does it feel like I’m coming?” Your breath comes in pants, and you sense a relieving tightness escaping your body.

Jimin swiftly takes charge, catching the remainder of your baby as it emerges, and Yoongi lends his support, ensuring Jimin's hands remain steady in the crucial moment.

The infant rests gently between your thighs in the hands of both Yoongi and Jimin, and as you gasp for air, you steal a glance downward. There, your precious baby lies, serene and silent. A moment of quietude settles in, and a disquieting realization begins to dawn upon you—silence, in this context, isn't the reassuring sound you anticipated.

Dread courses through you as you breathe heavily, realizing the absence of that expected newborn cry. Without hesitation, you extend your trembling arms, pulling your baby up against your chest in a desperate embrace.

An air of tension hangs heavy, mirrored in the anxious expressions on Jimin and Yoongi's faces, both men holding their breath, awaiting the sound that should signify life's beginning.

In an instinctual surge of emotion, you tear your shirt to shreds with one hand, cradling your newborn against your bare chest. Shock registers on both Jimin and Yoongi's faces as they witness this raw display of maternal instinct, captivated by the power and determination radiating from you.

As you gently rub the baby's back, waves of sadness wash over you, and tears stream down your face. In a choked voice, you express your fear, “This is why I should have delivered in the hospital. What if something happened to the baby and it's...gone?” The last part of the sentence catches in your throat, too emotional to articulate fully.

In the confined space of the car, you twist around, pressing your back against the seat as tears cascade down your cheeks. The anguish in your body is palpable, each sob causing a tremor that echoes the pain you're enduring.

In an instant, a second cry intertwines with yours, and you lower your gaze to behold your baby, tiny and fragile, yet alive. A surge of relief floods through every fiber of your being, mirrored in the eyes of the two men who exchange a profound, knowing glance.

Clutching your newborn close, you haven't even taken a moment to check the gender, but in this raw and tender moment, it hardly matters. All that echoes through your soul is the reassurance that everything is alright.

Overflowing with gratitude, your voice carries a symphony of love as your eyes dance between your husband and Jimin. “Thank you, both of you” you whisper, your heart swelling with the depth of the moment.

Yoongi whispers, his voice a tender melody, “You did incredible, babe,” as he leans in to press a gentle kiss against your cheek, his words echoing with admiration for your strength and resilience.

“No problem at all. You were amazing, ___,” Jimin commends, leaning back into the seat beside you, his hands stained with blood, that he wipes off on his pants.

“Jimin, could you check the trunk for some thermal blankets?” Yoongi requests, his gaze tenderly fixed on your baby, who has quieted down and now rests peacefully against your boobs—what he believes to be the most comforting place.

Jimin returns with a bundle of blankets, and Yoongi, with a sense of urgency, joins him in carefully wrapping you and the baby. The blankets cocoon you both, shielding you from the biting cold as you patiently await the arrival of the ambulance.

“Should we find anything to cut the cord with?” In a sudden burst of practicality, Jimin scans the car, his eyes searching for anything suitable to cut the cord.

“No, no. I've read that the baby can stay attached for hours and even days. So I'm fine waiting to do it in the hospital,” you say, your voice carrying a mixture of fatigue and overwhelming love. Your eyes remain fixed on your baby, and you don't glance at Jimin as you express your decision.

Then, a sensation grips your attention, warmth and thickness enveloping you between your legs. As you cast your gaze downward, the revelation dawns upon you – it's the placenta.

“You guys might need a new car,” Jimin breaks into laughter and Yoongi looks at him perplexed, before he scans the state of the car; it’s filled with blood, anatomic fluid and God knows what else. He reckons you’ll have to burn it, if it can’t be cleaned.

Half an hour post-delivery, the ambulance team arrives like guardian angels, swooping in to cradle you in their capable hands as they whisk you away to the sanctuary of the hospital.

Jimin swiftly summons roadside assistance, ensuring a caretaker for your stranded car, while he maneuvers his own vehicle through the snowy streets to the hospital.

Nestled in the hospital room, you're navigating the nuances of new motherhood. The compassionate nurses guide you through the art of breastfeeding, and you're determined to master this intimate dance with your newborn.

Beside you, Yoongi shares in the enchantment, both of you reveling in the miracle of your beautiful baby girl, awestruck at the realization that you've crafted this extraordinary little being together.

Gazing into his eyes, a kaleidoscope of love, affection, and adoration, he whispers, “I love you, babe,” before tenderly leaning in for a heartfelt kiss.

“I love you too, Yoongi.”

Jimin sweeps into the room, a harbinger of warmth and color, bearing a bouquet of your favorite purple flowers. Your heart flutters as you press a grateful kiss to his cheek, expressing your thanks.

Deep gratitude colors Yoongi's voice as he wraps Jimin in a tight embrace. “Seriously, Jimin, thank you for everything,” he murmurs, sincerity etched in his words. Jimin, with a warm smile, responds, “It's no problem. You're welcome.”

Clutching Jimin's hand, you squeeze it tightly, your eyes reflecting sincere appreciation. “No, thank you. I would never have made it without you,” you express, the gravity of your words resonating in the room.

You express your heartfelt appreciation, looking directly at Jimin as you speak. “You are my best, best friend, Jimin. I love you and thank you,” your words carrying the weight of genuine gratitude. Jimin meets your gaze with tenderness, carefully keeping his eyes on your face, mindful of not stepping on any toes with Yoongi, not that there's anything he should be worried about.

“She’s really cute—the baby, I mean,” Jimin throws his hands up in mock defense, unable to contain his admiration. His genuine enthusiasm shines through as he revels in the adorable sight of your newborn.

Yoongi begins with a playful smirk, “Relax, Jimin. You're allowed to call my wife cute and pretty, and occasionally sneak a glance at her assets if the situation calls for it; like a birth or a bra mishap—but nothing more.” He chuckles, wrapping up his words with a friendly hug, leaving Jimin with a mix of relief and amusement.

Jimin's laughter resonates in response, and just as the sound fills the room, the door swings open, ushering in the rest of your friends.

They flood the room with warm greetings, and your eyes quickly catch Jungkook, who enters with a whimsical unicorn plushie and a vibrant bouquet in shades of purple, pink, and blue.

“These are for you,” he beams, thrusting the bouquet towards Yoongi, who delicately places them on the table beside you.

“Congratulations,” the boys chime in unison, closing in to catch a glimpse of your precious little one.

You shift your baby in your arms, delicately adjusting your gown to reveal the other breast for feeding. With each nourishing moment, you sense post-contractions coursing through your body, a gentle reminder of your uterus gradually returning to its normal size.

Jungkook, Taehyung, and Namjoon inadvertently direct their gaze toward your breasts, drawing Yoongi’s attention. However, Seokjin interjects sternly, “Enough, guys. Show some respect. Quit staring at her breasts while she's feeding. You've seen other breasts before; let's not be rude.”

Jimin lets out a chuckle from his position beside you on the bed, quietly noting that the others should consider themselves lucky that Yoongi didn't snap at them for sneaking glances at your breasts.

“Starting today, a strict no-gazing policy is in effect for anyone trying to sneak a peek at my wife's breasts or her vagina,” Yoongi declares, shooting a pointed yet appreciative smile in Jimin's direction.

Confusion flickers across the faces of all the guys as their gazes shift between Jimin, Yoongi, and then you, signaling that something intriguing might have unfolded.

As their jaws drop in surprise, you casually spill the details, “He played a crucial role in delivering the baby and got an unexpected front-row view of my vagina in the process.”

Yoongi clenches his jaw, his gaze piercing through the room as he asserts, “Yes, that happened. Eyes off—especially you two,” he warns, shooting a stern look at Jungkook and Taehyung, who quickly avert their eyes.

Jungkook hesitantly clears his throat, his curiosity overcoming his apprehension, “___, what's that on your neck?”

A rosy hue tints your cheeks as you recall the passionate love bite that Yoongi left on your neck just before the chaotic journey into labor began, and you find yourself cursing your husband under your breath for the intimate moment that now decorates your skin.

What do you think??? Any kind of feedback is much appreciated ✨

234 notes · View notes

mmavverickk · 6 months

Note

I “love” the betrayal fics where the entire camp suddenly believes that this new guy has actually accomplished all of Percy’s achievements and Percy lied to all of them, like camp didn’t literally witness half of those accomplishments and like Percy actually outright says “I did X.” Percy says almost nothing about what he does, Camp hears about most of his achievements from others

oh, we've all seen those fics. new guy shows up, he's actually Percy's half-brother. Annabeth suddenly only has eyes for him, everyone suddenly hates Percy because new guy does too, Poseidon may or may not disown Percy, and then Percy runs away and joins Chaos.

it's been copied and pasted thousands of times in hundreds of ways.

not a single one of those fics has Percy's departure from Camp happen realistically. it's not even impossible to grow resentment between Percy and the campers, which is what these writers seem to want. but the way they go about it? a cookie cutter asshole pied piper OC who steals the spotlight and turns Camp into a hostile mob of angry demigods? Unrealistic. 0/10 trope, literally 50% of why i will not read fanfictions with OCs.

have some realistic ways of turning Camp against Percy or vice versa:

- Percy could be captured. The area he was taken from is drenched in blood. no one could survive that, Percy's gotta be dead, so Camp doesn't look for him. after [x amount of time] of captivity and probably torture, Percy gives up hoping for a rescue. he discovers darker uses for his powers, frees himself, and doesn't go back to camp, because they abandoned him. opens the road for angst and emotion and tearful reunions etc.

- Camp is attacked. maybe it was a lazy beach day. no one is ready, only a few campers have their weapons. they're outnumbered and maybe surrounded and definitely out of options. Percy won't let anyone die. two ways to go about this one:

A) percy destroys the attackers single-handedly, using every tool in his arsenal, every fucked up thing he can think of to make sure his people survive. he controls poison and blood and drowns monsters and, i don't know, freezes them into ice cubes or boils their skin or stops their hearts. Camp is terrified of him now. he leaves. or B) the armed campers fight back, but percy isn't fighting. he's busy keeping the injured from dying. how? he's controlling their blood. he won't let it deviate from its normal path. Camp is terrified of him now. he leaves.

- [x god] sends Percy on a quest. but, surprise! it's not a quest! it's a trick, to lead Percy to his death! Percy survives, but can't go back or he'll be revealing he's still alive before he figures out why [x god] tried to have him killed and if there's anyone else behind it. fun conspiracy vibes.

- percy adopts a new pet, except this time it's a drakon. "Percy," Chiron says very patiently and not-at-all exasperated, "you can't keep a drakon as a pet. it will eat your friends and we don't have the space." Percy flips authority the bird and strikes out with his new pet to find somewhere they can settle. kinda cracky but written right it could be funny.

- Percy pisses Zeus off. not surprising. Zeus wants to kill Percy. not surprising. for his own good, Chiron sends Percy on a roadtrip/changes his name and sends him to mexico along with multiple witness protection agents/quest to keep Percy out of sight for a while to allow the king of olympus time to cool down, because we like when percy is alive and also the war poseidon would wage at his death would kill us all.

are all of them 100% realistic? no, but neither is Percy leaving Camp. Hera had to literally kidnap him and erase his memory to keep him away. the point is that they're different and plausible, and not the same exact trope repeated over and over again until i can tell you the plot of hundreds of betrayal works in one sentence.

#mav.ask #agree those fics are like 'oh woo hoo it's dark percy!'#no it's not its you butchering the books to make him into a poorly disguised OC #'look he changed his name to omega and he's leading chaos's armies'#percy jackson #percy jackson headcanon #pjo #heroes of olympus #dark percy jackson

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verdemoun · 16 days

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timewarp au shitpost while i put off working on my essays: found family roadtrip

lenny has to sit in the middle because sean does not have the spatial awareness for the responsibility of sitting in the middle seat.

sean properly hates being in the car for any amount of time. it's too hot, the radio sucks, he can't stretch. fidgeting quickly devolves into nearly punching lenny as he tries to adjust and find something resembling comfortable

hosea is too busy admiring how calm and amazing and beautiful bessie is (she has to drive, obviously) to parent despite a brawl being about to begin in the backseat.

kieran quietly points out every horse he sees and immediately the back seat is silent as they all lean forward to look. hosea looks too because they all miss horses from time to time. if it's a quiet stretch of road bessie will pull over as a little reward and they can try to pat the horse.

lenny stays in the car for 5 minutes of peace while sean, in an awkwardly protective/supportive way, tries to warn kieran there's an electric fence which he knows from personal experience are not fun to touch

((they're actually going to a trail riding place as a surprise.)) bessie tried to warn the supervising instructor but they are still unprepared for the sheer chaos of a group of horse starved outlaws adjusting their own tack before taking off into the woods without a guide. bessie quietly offers the poor woman her phone, revealing she hid an air tag in sean's pocket and promises that lenny will probably not let him do anything stupid. they still don't follow the guide but bessie and hosea go on a little romantic trail ride through the forests.

kieran was following them for 10 minutes before vanishing. they start to genuinely worry they're going to need to call search and rescue but turns out after a very lazy slow plod around for an hour he found his way back to the ranch and is brushing and tending to all the horses they have. by the end of the day he has all the names, breeds and histories memorized. the ranch owner says 'your adult son clearly has some neurological wonk but feel free to drop him in here the tack has never been so clean'

the trip back is much more peaceful as lenny and sean immediately fall asleep on each other with the exhaustion of using muscles they haven't even thought about in months riding horses.

kieran infodumps about the horses they were riding while hosea happily asks questions because kieran talking about anything is still a very big deal. he still points out every horse they pass on the way home.

#rdr2 timewarp au #kieran duffy #sean macguire #lenny summers #bessie matthews #hosea matthews

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phoenixkaptain · 5 months

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I don’t want to get into a debate on whether or not Tim’s parents were actually abusive, but I do want to state outright that it doesn’t really matter, because Tim didn’t trust his parents.

What do I mean by this? Well, the beginning of Tim in comics is A Lonely Place of Dying (I’ve talked about it ad nauseum at this point) and one thing you may see people mention is what Tim says about his parents in it.

These are both from Batman (1940-2011) #441

Alfred asks, basically, “You do have parents, don’t you?” And Tim’s body language as he talks about them is strange to me.

Tim scratches his face. This is the only time Tim touches his face in these comics. And his eyes, he stops looking at Alfred, who he’s talking to, and looks at Dick, all the while changing the subject.

Is he lying? No. He’s uncomfortable. A part of this is that this interaction takes place before Tim tells them who he is, which Tim doesn’t want them to know. This is just the first time we see any hint of uncertainty on Tim. Interesting.

More interesting is, in the same issue

“I never told them, but for years I kept having the same nightmare over and over again.”

This is pretty clear cut. He doesn’t tell his parents things. He doesn’t tell them important things. And, well, it’s probably because he doesn’t talk to them very often

These two are from Batman (1940-2011) #444

First things first, Bruce brings up the subject. This isn’t the first time, post his introduction, that we see Tim and Bruce talking. They talk in #443. But Bruce has to broach the subject.

And Tim is avoidant. He says they don’t call often, and he isn’t bothered by it, or he doesn’t appear bothered by it. He doesn’t say what they’re fighting about, nor does he actually say what they’ll do if the trip doesn’t help. He’s very offhand about the whole thing. He almost treats it like he isn’t talking about his parents, but just two people in some circumstances he happens to know about.

Tim cuts Bruce off by pointing out the computer. He doesn’t want Bruce to finish, he doesn’t want Bruce making a promise he ultimately won’t keep, he doesn’t want Bruce to focus on him.

Tim’s relationship with his parents, especialy his father, is, from what I know, always presented in this detached way. Even in Young Justice, when Tim talks to his father, he does so through a newspaper. He doesn’t make eye contact, which is a strange thing because Tim always makes eye contact.

(That’s part of why Tim is a bit unnerving in his introduction. He is always making eye contact. Always.)

Tim doesn’t trust his parents. Why doesn’t he? Because they’re busy. Busy with work, busy with fighting, busy with each other. He doesn’t tell them things. He doesn’t tell them about his nightmares, he definitely didn’t tell them about his vacation week roadtrip, and he doesn’t tell them about Bruce.

Does that make them abusive? I guess not. Not in these issues, anyway. Down the line, I think his father especially crosses the line, but at this point? They’re mutually ignoring each other. Tim talks about his parents in a detached way, as though it doesn’t effect him. And, maybe it doesn’t. This was 1989, not exactly the pinnacle of mental health awareness with proficient knowledge of how absent parents effect the children they’ve not been raising.

Or, Tim used Batman and Robin as a proxy for affection, which is why he feels so strongly towards them and why he tells Alfred they mean everything to them and why Tim is unafraid in the face of his own death but panicky in the face of Alfred’s death. Batman and Robin are just his hyperfixation, something to obsessively focus on and keep track of to keep his head above the water, something he’s been obsessed with since he was three and saw Batman for the very first time, something he says himself he’s followed since he could read to the point that he listened to news reports on the off-chance Batman and Robin might be mentioned at the age of nine.

Who knows? ¯\ _(ツ)_/¯

#the inane ramblings of a madman #batman #robin #tim drake #bruce wayne #alfred pennyworth #in my personal opinion #tim’s parents suck #but that is a personal opinion #i didn’t like tim’s offputting relationship with his dad in yj #where his dad is overly reliant and dependent on him #where their relationship mirrors a classic parent-teenager #but with tim in the role of the parent and his dad in the role of the teenager #and i don’t like his parents apparently not thinking #that maybe watching two people fucking die at the circus #might affect their three yo #the seventies were wild i guess #long post

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comradekatara · 4 months

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Who first suggested the book club: Mako or Jinora? And who picks the books?

i think it probably started organically as a natural progression of jinora getting to know mako better. they're on a roadtrip (airtrip?) across the earth kingdom in search of new airbenders and they're both a little bored and irritated. mako has no escape from the budding bestieship of his two gorgeous ex-girlfriends who he fumbled. badly. jinora has no escape from her generally chaotic extended family. they're both introverts who need space that they cannot find on a relatively large but still altogether much too cramped airship. mako walks in on jinora reading a book on the history of ba sing se. he apologizes for interrupting her, but then he's like "is that book interesting?" and before he knows it, jinora is rambling about the history of dai li and the various earth dynasties, and mako is listening intently trying to absorb all of it. normally jinora's interests are shot down as being (ikki and meelo) "too nerdy" or (tenzin and pema) "extraneous to her air nomad studies" (even though, she argues, air nomads have historically been very worldly, and besides, she's part water tribe!) so when mako seems to actually appreciate knowledge for the sake of knowledge, she lends him her book after she's done with it. and for a while, that's how it goes: jinora finishes one of her books, and then she gives it to mako to read, and they discuss it. their conversations primarily focus on their literary pursuits; neither has an interest in discussing the interpersonal drama currently surrounding them.

then, jinora develops a crush on one of the new airbenders. and suddenly jinora regrets befriending this teenage boy who won't stop barraging her with his motherly concern and disapproval. "he's not good enough for you," "he's untrustworthy," etc. etc. everything they read somehow turns into a didactic lesson, even as jinora directs them to books on the most mundane, innocuous topics possible (mako is actually fascinated by the mechanics of the omashu mailchute system, but he still somehow manages to turn it into a moralizing tale about how careless disregard for authority can lead to life-ruining danger). eventually, the red lotus becomes more of a threat than mako's obnoxious presumption that he knows what's best for her, and their attentions are diverted elsewhere. gradually, mako's opinion on kai turns around, and he gives jinora his approval (not that she needed it, he's literally just some guy?), so they can once more go back to reading and discussing literature without any distractions.

jinora is usually the one selecting the books, since she has more free time to read, but mako lends her some books of his own. there is no obligation for it to be a formal thing, since mako is on air temple island frequently enough that they don't need to create an official schedule to plan for their meetings, but for some reason they still do because mako prefers to live a highly structured, ordered life. they meet on the second and sixteenth of every month, and exchange notes on their primary takeaways from each book – what they were most interested to learn, whether the author was convincing in their rhetorical style – and then they deliberate over which book to read next while drinking tea. they have a strict "no 'personal life' talk" rule. occasionally jinora ventures to suggest that they read a work of fiction together next, but mako always swiftly shoots her down. he is here to expand his mind, not to rot it with fluff! jinora would be annoyed if she didn't find it charming being friends with the world's most boring guy. and eventually she does manage to tease out his entire convoluted backstory with korra and asami, as well as some of the least unpalatable details of his childhood, and some of his more exciting moments as a detective. jinora's just like "damn, no wonder you don't read fiction. your life is already five different genres of insanity." and mako's just like "yeah. do you have any more of those plain, unsalted rice crackers? they're my favorite food."

#loopy777 #asks #mako #jinora #jinora&mako #idk if that's a tag i've ever used but they're my favorite implied totally offscreen friendship in lok #they share books and he disapproves of her boyfriend!!! it's adorable!!!!!#in the lok rewrite that lives in my head this is a prominent subplot and is explored with the full depth it deserves

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ms0milk · 1 year

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𝟐 | 𝐈𝐧𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞, 𝐒𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠

ー✧ prince!bakugou x royal guard!reader

"Magic can manifest a million ways, but from forever til today the only way you ever pictured proper magic was flowing from sweaty palms and jagged fingers."

no cw the Terrible Roadtrip™ pt 1/2, bkg is a huge asshole, i can't promise you won't fall in love with kirishima, you have to put your faith in me for this fic, pls trust me. 3.1k

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Kirishima Eijiro has always been kind to you. A wave, a nod, a sharp smile, he never ignored you in the castle when you happened upon each other, but thinking about it, you’ve never actually spoken. There was never a need and the prince always maintains the perfect amount of hurry to keep his companions from acknowledging staff.

Kirishima likes to dance with the girls who work in the kitchen so they’re too giddy to lecture him about stealing snacks. He likes to sleep in, and for some reason he likes training with his violent prince. Kirishima gets bruises but not cuts and you think it’s probably because of his magic. He sometimes cries while feeding the birds. Now Kirishima crouches so close to you that your shoulders touch and his warmth feels so familiar.

“Like this,” you correct. You stop him from placing another log on the fire before he knocks over the entire structure. Across from you, Sero huddles closer in the chill of evening while Denki investigates the kettle hung on irons to check if hot water is ready. Mina rummages for mugs. Camp tonight is tucked in the clearing of a felled maple tree much to the prince’s dismay, as it’s too dark to read by the sunset under foliage. So he busies himself untacking horses and with anger taken out on leaves, twigs, and the general inanimate.

Early in the morning, just an hour into the journey, a pink finger poked out of the carriage window ahead of you and beckoned you closer. The pink finger was of course attached to the pink girl, who rested her head on her arm while you rode beside her. “I don’t think you know who I am,” she cooed and you were quick to apologize to the nobles; they must be noble if they were guests of the prince; and if you had been on solid ground you would have taken a knee.

“My Lady, please forgive my behavior this morning.”

His Highness scoffed and you didn’t dare look his way.

Mina, Denki, and Sero. Kirishima introduced the travelers to you from his spot beside the prince, who took up at least a quarter of the small space with his spreading and growling and kicking of friends.

From what you could see on horseback, the inside of the carriage was just as delicately beautiful as the outside. Silver stars held the royal blue quilting in place and a little chandelier twinkled in the very center of the ceiling. White silk draped above them. Bench cushions trimmed with silver tassels and decorative knots, and when you dared to lean closer you could see the wallpaper wasn’t all quilt– there were rows and rows of flat ribbon with embroidered shells, and figures depicting some sort of scene across the trim.

“Get your bigass head outta here!”

It was your turn to be snapped at by the prince and it startled you backwards a bit in your saddle. His showy red eyes trained on yours for a second before he shut them tight and leaned back in a cross-armed huff, “Already got four fucking twats suffocating me, I don’t need more hot breath'n my ears.”

“Apologies, Highness,” you spoke this line clearly in lieu of, once again, formal introductions. But you couldn’t be fazed. It counted as the second time he looked at you, twice in a day, and that was more than the last fifteen years combined.

A sneeze from Denki ignited the prince’s fury in full and soon the carriage was a ring match. Sparing a glance to Shinsou, who chuckled at Denki’s misfortune on horseback through the window opposite yours, you slowed to let the travelers sort out their frustration alone. As you fell back, the silver of the window framed Mina’s pretty pink smile.

Mina is very nice. Across from yours and Kirishima’s little fire now, she hoists a red tin cup above her head and mouths, “Tea?”

“Please. Thank you, M’lady.”

She beams every time you call her that. This time she shouts through the clearing to the prince and all of the horses, “Hear that Kats? I’m a Lady.”

“You’re a fuckin' menace is what you are.”

These were strange nobles– friends, even. To be speaking with the prince so casually. What was Sero doing in soldier’s gear earlier?

Before departing, you and your travelers were instructed to change into the riding clothes provided to you. “No gambeson,” droned Aizawa when you tried to avoid removing your red Aldera uniform. “Your measurements were sent to our royal tailor, I promise these travel clothes are much more comfortable for riding.”

So now your dragontooth brooch, pinned rebelliously to your collar, is all you’re allowed to remind you of home. It clicks softly against the silver details of your lifeless white blouse. You feel sick riding another queen’s horse, and wearing another queen’s colors is almost all you can handle. On solid ground beside warm Kirishima, you’re sore and thankful to be finished traveling for the day.

By the time the sun began to set, the prince had a sparkling fist swung out the window and his companions let out yelps of pain from the receiving end of his anger, “I’m sick’a breathing your stinkass air!”

Mina and Sero, both carried under one of Kirishima’s strong arms, melted from the carriage doors with much moaning and many grumbles. Denki tripped on the single step again, directly into Shinsou’s back and the two of them hit the ground. Only the prince seemed to have any amount of energy left and took to immediately examining the grounds Aizawa chose for camp.

“No bitchin,” Master Aizawa grumbled before bundling himself up in the driver’s seat of the carriage in a thick woolen blanket. The blunt interaction was all you would get from him tonight.

These woods gnarl with the same vines and fruit that wrap up your Aldera castle so safely, which meant Jeanist’s halberd made quick work of the familiar trees when it came time for you to chop firewood. Kirishima loved watching this part most, as you instructed and explained the basic nature of maple and the best angles to hit it. “The axehead here,” you tossed your halberd higher into your grip to point at the blade, “isn’t at all made for this. But the carriage ax is too heavy for me.” You were quick to nurse your finger between your lips after forgetting just how sharp your mentor keeps his tools and Kirishima jumped at the opportunity to take over.

Jeanist takes you camping sometimes. He calls it playing favorites when other soldiers ask, but rarely do you do anything with Jeanist besides train, camping included. Splitting wood was day one. You can recognize nuts and leaves, hunt creature and beast by bow, dagger, and lance. A fire was the simplest thing you could think to do tonight and it has Kirishima drawn in with sparkling eyes, begging you to teach him how to lean the sticks to one another or shave kindling from bark.

“Y/n, won't it go out?”

Your name brings you back. You place a hand over the Champion’s before you’re completely aware of your surroundings, to keep him from fiddling with anything else, “I promise it won’t. Look.” And point to the white hot hollow just below the tent of flames. Embers are what’ll keep your campsite warm all night, not a raging fire on big logs. It’s a simmering sense of pride you feel that if you were good for nothing else, you could at least start a fire in a rainstorm.

Aizawa is long-asleep on the driver’s bench. The carriage twinkles at the very edge of the clearing, you imagine to keep it safe from flames or potential explosive fury in conversation around the campfire. You smile behind the hot mug that Mina hands you at the thought of arriving in Takoba on a single singed platform– all that would be left of the fairy carriage after the prince’s companions antagonized him a few words too far.

“For you,” Shinsou murmurs while he winds his way around the campfire with bedrolls for each traveler. He drops yours beside your seat and overcome with– something– laziness? His master’s contagious exhaustion?– tosses one over the fire to the prince who is approaching camp, having given up on his mission for readable light.

You’re one step closer to that singed carriage, you think, when the prince catches the bedding in a fist and drops it where he stops at the farthest point from all of you in the circle. His broad chest vibrates inside furs.

“Keep it down.”

This is a very obvious assertion to everyone but you, that it’s time for the prince to go to bed. The sun just set, you bewilder and then he does in fact kick open his roll beside the fire and settle down with his back turned. Other than yourself and Shinsou, the company lets up a knowing chorus of, 'G’night Bakugou's that catch you by surprise. You look to Kirishima for confirmation and when he’s too busy poking at your fire to notice, you lower your face into the steam coming off your mug.

“Is that your magic?”

When you cast your eyes up to see which company member has taken to immediately disrupting the prince’s peace, Mina is the one watching you. You’re supposed to be checking the carriage for wear and reinforcing the perimeter before tucking in for the night, and you suppose it was only a matter of time before someone noticed you slacking in your duties. You breathe the steam in from your tea slowly, so it doesn't burn you, but enough that it warms your motivation to move away from the fire. Kirishima is looking at you now too, when you pull your dark Takoban cloak around your shoulders and dust off your knees.

“Y/n?”

“Stay,” you smile at him, “Eat, be warm. I have to check in with Master Aizawa.”

Shinsou peers up at you from his seat between Denki and Sero. Mina clears her throat, “But you didn’t answer the question.”

Did you miss something? You glance between the faces of your sitting company to try and sort out the pieces of their conversation, but she’s looking only at you.

“Are you a flame mage?”

“What?”

Then Sero laughs. He laughs like he doesn’t mean to and covers his mouth, which ignites the purple blush across Mina’s face. “I–I didn’t–! Was that weird? You guys are thinking it too, c’mon–”

“I don’t say everything I think, Mina.”

“Spare me, yes you do!”

The prince, laying deadly still and very much not asleep, grunts. The Champion leans back to look up at you as you stand above the group, still a few steps behind in their conversation. He offers you up your mug again as an invitation to sit, “They’re just curious is all.”

“I don’t do magic,” you murmur, only to him. You take your cup from his hand but before he lets go, he tugs downwards to pull you back to his side. The fire is hot but not so big that you can’t sit exceptionally close to it.

“So no to fire magic?” Mina pipes up again, “What do you do?”

“I don’t, M'lady.”

“Don’t…do anything?”

“I do plenty,” you chuckle, “but I can’t do magic.”

A growl sounds off from the prince who’s dragged himself up to sitting in the single blink of an eye. He seems less irritated with the lack of sleep he’s getting and more by your apparent lack of magical aptitude. Like it’s a personal slight.

“What’s the point of you then?”

You don’t dare eye contact when he speaks, but you’ve heard this kind of intimidation from his mother. Kirishima is looking, and he points sharp in his prince’s direction to clip short whatever might come next.

You rally, “I swear I’m no less competent than any fighting mage.”

But Prince Bakugou is no longer interested in you, and only barks when Mina throws an acorn cap at the back of his head. Kirishima nudges you a bit when you try to dip into your mug again.

“Have you ever tried?”

“Tried what?”

“Magic.”

What used to be your smile twists into confusion, but the Champion presses on, “You’d be surprised how many people think they can’t do any magic at all, when really their gift is just specific! Like, uh— the man who works proofing ovens in the kitchens at home only has one fireproof hand,” The redhead has himself chuckling along with the rest of his friends but presses a flat, gentle hand into your back to keep you safe from his enthusiasm, “You can imagine the day he found out his other half wasn’t so flame retardant.”

The prince looks like he’s winding up to yell at you all again over his delicate sleep schedule so Denki is quick to butt in with, “Why not try now?”

Today is a lot to take in. Promises, apologies, a lesson in campfires, but you aren’t going to add mage training to the list. You balance the mug under gentle fingertips, “I don’t need magic to do my job.”

“That’s badass.”

“But Y/n, what if you have some crazy world-ending power?!”

You look to Shinsou for a bit of level-headed support but he turns away to let you simmer in the attention alone, smiling.

“Or what if you can, like, bring back the dead? Or heal the sick! How many sick people have you touched recently?”

“Or dead people?”

Mina and Denki try to bounce as many ideas off each other as they can fit into the next few seconds before the prince blasts their heads off and you feel like a real afterthought in all. But the questions subside, the prince doesn’t blow, and now you’re expected to answer. Even the Champion at your side is looking at you with those soft red eyes of his. You dip your lips back into your mug for a warm sip before responding, “I wouldn’t know.”

Kirishima’s the only one who really understands what you mean and tries to change the subject but Mina scrambles across the small clearing and gets a hold of you before he can speak. She’s gentle when she takes one of your hands and stretches it out towards the fire.

“When I use magic, I relax my arms like this,” she wiggles her fingers, “and it just oozes outta me.”

“Literally,” Sero chuckles. Mina shakes you back into focus before you can ask him what he means.

“What if you relax real good– here hold your hand just like this– and then boom! You blow up the whole campsite. Your magic could be really powerful like that.” She has your arm outstretched, the one not holding tea, and she’s miming going limp with her own hand. You give in. She’s a royal guest, and you’re in no position to deny her. Your eyes flutter closed.

You used to try this as a kid, willing your own magical gift to manifest in your bedroom after Jeanist called for curfew. It feels the same now as it always has, not that you’re concentrating as hard as you used to at eight years old. It feels like nothing. Magic can manifest a million ways, but from forever til today the only way you ever pictured proper magic was flowing from sweaty palms and jagged fingers. You curl a little closer to your knees but commit, and flex your fingers the way you’ve seen beautiful magic made before.

“Try to picture something pretty.” You’re not sure who says it, and gods you feel silly, but you comply and focus on the warmth that tingles your fingers from the fire in front of you. For some reason, the first thing you imagine is velvet.

Immediately your hand is so hot you have to open your eyes to keep from snatching it back to your chest.

It’s the light that you see in your dreams in that little cup your fingers made. It’s the stars that fall from the sky in corners of the castle at night. White, purple, orange, and blue. It’s the same as the prince’s beautiful magic, in your own outstretched fingers for a single fleeting, flickering moment. Your heart is in your head. Your eyes wide and trembling. It’s just a second of pure bright light before the spark bounces off your palm hot enough to make your eyes water, and dies as quickly as it is beautiful into the campfire.

Beats of excitement tap your chest as you look to the group, but the prince’s eyes are the first ones you see and he looks altogether too happy with himself for you not to realize. Bakugou shakes the rest of the sparks from his fingers and doesn’t fight the smirk spread across his lips, though, the very second you meet his gaze he bristles. The group around you shifts uncomfortably. What’s he supposed to do with those big eyes of yours, huh?

“Don’t be an ass Bakugou, we’re just having fun.”

“s’not my fault she’s gullible.”

Kirishima’s warmth isn’t enough to keep you at the campfire. The horses started snorting at the fireworks and so you nestle your cup in the dirt around the fire to regain your focus, “Apologies, Highness. I’m acting unprofessionally.”

“Y/n don’t–” Mina tries to salvage your company but you smile,

“I got comfortable before even feeding the horses.”

And you do mean it. You’re standing now and you make sure to nod to every member of the company before you back into the dark of the far camp, “Good night everyone. Thank you very much for the tea.” It’s okay. You’ll set up your bedroll near the carriage in the dark so that the crackling fire doesn’t keep you from hearing footsteps. Yes, you’ll sleep alone like you’re used to, with the familiar smells of horses and finally get some rest.

“Good night Y/n,” Mina whispers. Denki throws a disapproving acorn cap across the fire at Bakugou’s bare shoulder. He ignores it and takes a sip from his mug. Sero throws another.

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tagged angels ✧.* nnubee cherrykamado nonomesupposedto zombiewarprincess kotarousproperty strawberry-mentos69 sveetnn eirlysian lunrai cherripunch26nch26 km74744 arayoflia

(tumblr keeps deleting the end of my fics, including my reader tags! I didn't re-tag the lovelies above because I'm sure they're getting sick of the notifications as I try to fix it. tags will be back to normal next ch! if you've signed up for the tag list, have no fear, I think I've figured it out)

#thank you so much for your support!!#this story is my baby #my slow moving baby #trust is the name of the game folks #theres only excitement from here on out #swearsies #a hymn to black water #bakugou x reader #bnha #bnha x reader #mha #mha x reader #bakugo x reader #mha fantasy au #bnha fantasy au #fantasy bakugo #fantasy bakugou

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vxnillsstuff · 7 months

Note

To follow up on my last ask. Yes! I would love to have some general dating headcanons with Prismo and if possible a gender-neutral reader. I'm just scraping by the content provided for Prismo. He deserves the world.

Dating Prismo headcanons! - Prismo (Fiona and Cake) x GN!Reader

—————

BACKSTORY (in order)

I like to think you two met through like something silly. You finally got to tell him your wish after a long journey, but in the end, you really didn’t know what you wanted. You just wanted a purpose.

He was a bit overwhelmed at first because he had never seen anyone like… not know what they want other than that one time someone couldn’t focus because of him ignoring his responsibilities, causing the loud beeping on his remote but that’s a story for another time ^_−☆.

He just sat there and shared a drink with you, talking about how wishes are hard and stuff.

After some time, you found yourself slowly warming up to Prismo. He wasn’t as scary as all the myths you had heard said.

Over the months, you would come visit him, even though the journey was pretty rough. You pushed though, want to see your new… friend.

You would always jokingly scold him for drinking too much or if his beard was getting long.

He would always blow off your worries but by the next time you would come visit him, you could see that he had freshened up his small scruff and his box-ish-home would have looked a little bit cleaner.

One day, you had caught him in his small box-ish-home, looking sad.

He had explained that he had wished for something silly for himself and that it didn’t work. He knew it wouldn’t work.

You asked him what it was and he said that he wished he could have you.

You were slightly stunned by his “wish” but, you two sat and talked about it for a bit.

You found that he had feelings for you and you had felt some of those same feelings.

You two spent a few more months getting to know each other and you had started visiting him more often.

Eventually, you two started dating and it was super cute! He was all nervous, explaining that he hasn’t dated anyone in a while.

WHAT ITS LIKE DATING HIM (no specific order)

He always did small things for you. For example, if he was out doing something while you visited, he would put out tiny things of food or flowers for you. You would never mention these small gestures but you really did like them.

He would always wrap his “arms” around you and talk about how different things would be if he wasn’t the wish-maker.

You would explain that you liked him no matter what form or job he had and he would thank you for that.

LOTS of teasing. He thought you were just so cute and had to point out every gesture and action that you did.

He also needed a LOT of reassurance when you guys first started dating because he didn’t want to get hurt or anything. You would reassure him and tell him how much you cared and yada yada.

It took him a while to open up about his actual job and how much stress it brings him at times and you helped him through those feelings and stuff.

He would talk about how he hated seeing you leave and how he wished you could just stay there forever.

It hurt you to explain how you couldn’t and how you had a life back down on Ooo that you couldn’t just disappear from your life.

He would always talk about his favorite universes and he would spill ever little detail about them, like a teenage girl. ✨Gossip✨.

You two rarely fight but every now and then you would get in tense disagreements about your conflicting lives. In the end, he would apologize and you guys would make up.

Note: if this does good I’ll probably make a part 2 later! Sorry if these seem sloppy, I’m typing on my phone since I’m on a roadtrip. ε-(´∀｀; )

#prismo #fiona and cake #adventure time #x reader #fanfics #fanfic #headcanons #prismo fionna and cake #fionna and cake

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littlewinter1917 · 2 years

Text

The Boys of Summer

My blog is 18+ only. Minors DNI. 🔞 Don’t repost my work anywhere.

Words: 11.7k

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Fem!Reader, Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader, Billy Hargrove x Steve Harrington (essentially Harringrove x Fem!Reader)

Summary: You and your two boyfriends, Billy and Steve, go on a little roadtrip to California together, and naturally shenanigans ensue.

Warnings: Just a lot of fluff, teasing, swearing, and some suggestive themes. Brief mentions of Billy’s past trauma and abuse (nothing explicit!) Minor hurt/comfort. Everyone in the trio is bi.

A/N: Do I really need to say which song inspired this one? Also, this is in celebration of the fact that we have only a few days left, before we’ll probably get disappointed by the Duffer brothers, so good times?😵‍💫

Read the story on AO3 here.

The midday sun is hot and unforgiving way up in the sky, beaming down relentlessly; the dark asphalt beneath your feet might as well be scorching, and the sound of crickets fills the heat shimmering air.

It is way too hot for your liking, and despite wearing a flowy summery dress, you feel like you’re on the verge of melting right into the dusty ground of the small petrol station where you’re currently waiting for-

“Harrington! What’s taking you so fucking long?” Billy’s deep voice pulls you out of your current thoughts and misery.

Looking up, you see your fluffy, dark-haired boyfriend make his way over to you and Billy, a goofy smile on his face, and his hands and arms completely occupied with way too many snacks.

So that’s why he’s been gone so long inside the little patrol station.

“I come bearing gifts.” He states, a proud look gracing his sunlit features, and you know for a fact that he’s beyond pleased with himself and his unexpected findings.

What a dork.

“Did you have to rob the whole station?” Billy teases while coming to the rescue of a pair of airheads that threaten to slip from the confines of Steve’s bare arms.

“I’ve got it.” Steve grumbles with a pout, stubbornly determined to carry all his little treasures by himself.

“Sure,” Billy counters with an amused grin, “If you mean ‘I’ve got it' in the same way you meant your little ‘I’ll be quick’ roughly two hours ago, we’re lucky you’re still carrying any sweets at all, really.”

“Oh, fuck off, Billyboy. It’s been barely five minutes and besides that, why don’t you just take up snack duty at the next truck stop, then?”

There’s no real bite in any of Steve’s words, and the glare he throws Billy’s way is more playful than anything.

“Well, that is most definitely not happening,” you interject quickly, "Because last time Billy was on snack duty, he brought nothing but 5 packs of cigarettes and a car magazine, stating that it’s our loss we don’t have any real taste.”

“That was once, it was a joke, and you two were behaving like brats.” Billy defends himself.

“You say that like it’s unusual for us to-“ Steve starts, but you’re quick to interfere once more.

“Guys, can we maybe migrate this conversation into the confines of our car. I feel like my insides are going to start boiling any second now; it’s just so fucking hot!”

“You’re sure you’re not just hungry?” Billy asks with a sickly-sweet smile and you roll your eyes with a huff.

“Steve, baby, love of my life. You still have the keys to the Camaro, don’t you?” you question, batting your eyelashes at the tall brunette.

“Yes, why?” Steve looks like he’s about to try to pat his jeans down for the keys, before remembering that he’s still balancing two months’ worth of snacks in both of his hands and arms.

“Well, do you think we could find our way to California without our resident mullet-boy? I feel like leaving him here in the middle of Oklahoma, for some reason.”

This time it’s Billy’s turn to let out an offended huff.

“You would get lost like immediately.”

“Doubt it. I might not have any sense of direction, but Steve-“

“Uhm, guys, you know how I said, 'I’ve got it', like two seconds ago? I think I just changed my mind… Oh, no! My Tangle Twister!”

“Your what?!” Billy asks, slightly bewildered while trying to stop the landslide of candy that’s about to spill all over the burning asphalt, and you’re quick to help him, too.

“Jesus, Harrington, have you ever heard about the fabulous invention called ‘bags’?”

“Like the ones under your eyes?”

You stifle your laugh with a cough, while picking up the ice cream Steve just dropped to the ground.

“Excuse me, but I’ve been the one driving for the past 6 hours.”

“Yes, I know, Hargrove. my stomach still feels funny, thank you for that.”

“Oh, shut it! I’m an excellent driver, you-“

“Guys! As much as I love your little old-fighting-married-couple moment, can we please get into the car now?”

Your impatience and intolerance for the southern heat is really reaching its peak and luckily, the two men finally listen, albeit not without grumbling, slightly offended, “We’re not that old.”

The three of you make it into the car from there rather quickly.

Billy goes for the backseat to rest, together with the pile of candy that Steve is hesitant to leave somewhat unsupervised in the confines of Billy’s presence. You on the other hand, end up returning to your regular place in the passenger seat while Steve takes the one behind the wheel.

You’ve all decided to take turns with the task of driving. You had been the first one earlier today during the ungodly morning hours, when the sun hadn’t even peaked above the horizon yet; leaving Hawkins behind while the veil of the night still lingered, then it had been Billy’s turn, and now it was going to be Steve’s.

“Ready, my little co-pilot?” Steve questions with a soft pat to your knee, before starting the car, and Billy almost chokes on the ice-cold beer he just opened.

“Aww, seems like someone learned drinking just yesterday, huh?” Steve comments with a teasing smile, eyes searching Billy’s in the rearview mirror, before adding, “And here I was, thinking you were good at not choking on things.”

There’s another startled cough, and you have to bite down on your lip to keep yourself from laughing.

“Careful, Stevie, you might end up killing him.“

“With what, my big words or my big-“

“Steve! Look out!” You suddenly exclaim, pointing at the car in front of you that just started to slow down significantly out of nowhere, and that Steve hadn’t been paying the closest attention to.

“I think you’re most likely going to kill us with your big fucking driving skills.” Billy groans, still slightly upset about the beer stains on his shirt.

“Don’t sweat it, Hargrove.” Steve jokingly taunts, “You look better without it anyway.”

“The beer stains? Yeah, go figure.”

God, you’re in love with two himbos, and two himbos only.

For a moment you just watch your two boyfriends continue to bicker. It’s always somewhere between playful teases and shameless flirting, and it’s rather entertaining to say the least.

Billy notices your amused gaze first, and he’s quick to call you out on it, leaning over between the two front seats.

“What are you smiling about, sweetheart?” He whispers lowly into your ear, the feeling of his breath tickling the exposed skin of your neck.

“Nothing,” your voice wavers only slightly, “Just thinking about how lucky I am to have you two, and how much I love you both.”

Turning your head in Billy’s direction, you see his eyes instantly soften at your words, and his hands come up to carefully cup your face.

“I love you too, my little angel.” Billy murmurs, before capturing your lips in a gentle kiss, hands still cradling your face.

He tastes like beer and cigarette smoke and some faint traces of artificial cherry flavoring; oh, that bastard better not be eating any of your sour cherry candy, you think for a second; but that thought is quickly discarded when Billy decides to deepen the kiss, taking not just your breath away but also every coherent thought you ever had.

Fuck, his kisses still make you feel dizzy and breathless and weak in the knees, and you can’t help the small whine that escapes your lips.

“Hey, lovebirds!” Steve suddenly calls out, voice a little exasperated.

“Stop distracting me like this.”

“Stop getting distracted, pretty boy.” Billy counters, flashing Steve one of his million-dollar smiles.

“Besides, You’ll get your kisses soon enough, no need to be jealous, just focus on the road.”

“I’m not jealous!” Steve huffs, “You’re both mine anyways, I just don’t like missing out.”

“Aww, poor Stevie, you want me to kiss your ego better?” Billy questions teasingly, patting Steve’s shoulder in condolences.

“For a matter of fact, yes.” Steve grumbles quietly, lips formed into a small pout, and you coo, before grabbing his hand on the makeshift.

“Sorry, my love, but you know how easy it is to get carried away with a menace like Billy.” you tease, and Steve just groans while Billy shots you both a playful wink.

“You know what I feel like having?” Steve suddenly questions, trying to change the subject.

“Roadhead?” Billy offers.

“A heat stroke?” You counter.

“Some good fucking music?!” You and Billy exclaim at the same time, and you two excitedly clap your hands together.

Great minds think alike.

Or maybe Robin was right, and the three of you just share one singular brain cell.

“No, actually,” Steve states, seemingly confused, “I was about to say my Tripe Power Push Pops but-“

“Your what?!” Billy inquires, eyebrows raised and a little dumbfounded, and you just groan in disbelieve.

“Steve, please tell me you’re not seriously thinking about your candy, again.”

“Oh, you’re kidding, right?” Billy adds, and you two look at your shared boyfriend for clarification with slight concern.

It’s only short-lived, though, because Steve can’t hide the smile that threatens to break out across his face, and you instantly know that he’s been taking you two for a ride.

That fucker.

“Do you guys really think that when I’m in a car with my beautiful boyfriend and my stunning girlfriend, the number one thing on my mind would be some sweets?” Steve asks, pretending to be offended.

“I would honestly not put it beyond you.” You admit with a smile that mirrors his, and Billy hums in agreement.

“Okay, rude!” Steve complains, but when he looks over to you briefly, you see his eyes sparkle with nothing but amusement and love.

Fuck, you really adore this guy. How you managed to end up with both Billy and Steve is still not something you can quite understand.

But here you are, in Billy’s trusty Camaro, with the two men you treasure more than anything, on your way to the most summery state of them all: California!

Even if it’s just for a few weeks, you’re more than a little excited, and, dare you say it, a bit nervous because you’ve never been there before, and your expectations are rather high.

You blame Billy for that.

“So, music?” Steve’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts again, and it doesn’t take long for you to get the small box of mixtapes that Billy keeps in a rather hidden compartment of the car. You all update it frequently, adding new tapes and taking older ones out.

Flipping through them, you know most of them and their track-lists by heart, until your eyes land on one mixtape in particular that you haven’t seen in a while, and you can’t help the surprised little gasp that slips out of your lips, eyes wide at the unsuspected discovery.

“Billy, you still have the first mixtape I made you?” You question, while tracing your fingers carefully over the spine of its protective case.

Your handwriting on it is a bit faded now, but you can still make out the name of the title. ‘Disco Doesn’t Suck, You Do!’ it states, and you still remember how you made it for Billy after your first date, and a rather heated discussion about what actually counts as good music.

You had tried to prove a point and settle the debate with that one, but you didn’t know he still kept it after all this time, because Billy supposedly hates disco.

“Of course, I kept it!” Billy looks at you, almost a little offended that you would even assume he might not. “I usually keep it safe in my part of the nightstand and listen to it occasionally. I just thought taking it with me to California might make sense.”

“Billy,” you whisper, “I had no idea you still listen to that tape, and I never thought you would actually enjoy it.”

“Well, I didn’t exactly say that.” he jokes, “Maybe I just brought it with me to remind myself how good my music taste is and how much yours is lacking.”

You turn around in your seat to face Billy and instantly stick out your tongue at him.

“Well, all I’m hearing is that you’ve been listening to the Bee Gees voluntarily, and that sounds like a damn miracle to me!”

“They really aren’t that bad… sometimes.” Billy admits, and you beam up at him, smile bright and warm, and Billy feels like his heart is going to tumble out of his chest and into your lap, because god, you’re adorable. And the fact that something he said is making you smile this hard, well color him a little proud.

“Oh Stevie, the first mixtape you made me is in here too!” You observe excitedly, and Steve just groans.

“Oh god, the Rod Stewart one?”

“Uh-huh.”

You can’t help but laugh once you see the faint blush that’s creeping up Steve’s cheeks.

“What am I gonna do? I’m so in love with you.” You teasingly sing parts of the chorus to your boyfriend, and he just shakes his head, slightly embarrassed.

“I can’t believe I chose a Rod Stewart song to tell you that I’m into you.” He mumbles, cheeks a fiery red and eyes averted.

“That’s the part that surprises you?” Billy quips in, “I’m more surprised that it actually worked.”

“Oh, shut it, there’s a time and place for Rod Stewart.” You defend Steve, though Billy looks rather unconvinced.

“Yeah, in hell maybe.”

“Billy!” you scold with a laugh, before pulling your attention back on Steve, who looks a little deflated.

“Don’t mind him, Stevie! I thought your idea was rather cute and endearing then, and I still think it’s rather cute and endearing now.” You state earnestly, looking at Steve with loving eyes, and this time his flustered state has a different origin.

He’s just as much head over heels for you as he has been since day one of you dating, and he still considers you the best thing in his life. Well, you and Billy now, because that mullet-haired beachboy ended up flipping both of your lives upside down, but in the best way possible.

“So, what do we want to listen to first?” you question, your eyes still skimming the different tape titles, unaware to Steve’s silent swooning.

“I-uh, I actually made a little mixtape for you two.” Billy quietly mumbles, before holding out a little rectangular object to you.

“It’s just something I made for the trip.” Billy’s voice sounds unusually raw, and you turn around in your seat again to face him fully.

“That’s such a sweet idea, Billy! Thank you!” You gush, before gently taking the tape from him, his fingers gracing yours in the process.

The mixtape looks just like all the other ones, except this one has the words California ’87 scribbled on its cover in Billy’s illegible handwriting, and there are three cheesy hearts drawn underneath it, each one adorned with different initials: Yours, Steve’s, and Billy’s.

“Aw, look at you, you secret sab! Billy, that’s adorable!” You briefly hold the mixtape with its case out for Steve to admire it as well, and he nods in agreement.

“Jeez, Billy, you’re gonna make my heart nut.”

“Stevie!” You playfully slap his shoulder, before turning back towards your other boyfriend, who looks rather shy all of the sudden, and it makes your chest swell with even more adoration.

“Oh, Billy, come here.”

Before he can even react, you’re already pulling him closer by the collar of his loose shirt, and then your lips are on his in an instant.

The kiss is slow, deep, and sensual; and a bit unsuspected for Billy, who can’t quite help the small moan escape from his lips.

“Guys…” Steve warns, after what feels like two seconds for you, and two eternities for Steve. “This is really unfair when all I can do is watch.”

You break the kiss reluctantly, and Billy instinctively chases your lips, making you giggle in between the small pecks you keep exchanging; but after Steve clears his throat once more, you two part for good, and you try to pull your attention back on the mixtape in your lap.

“There should be songs for everyone to enjoy on it.” Billy clarifies, voice still a little breathless from the kisses.

“So, Rod Stewart for Steve?” you tease, and Billy just huffs before stating, “Uh, my love knows no bounds, except one, it seems.”

“Okay, fair enough, because not all of us can have impeccable taste, and my love goes deep enough to overlook your lack thereof.” Steve fires back, and you have to bite your lip to keep yourself from laughing again.

God, how you adore these dorks.

While the two men you call your own are still bickering in the background, you decide to put the mixtape to its use, curious on what Billy might feature on it.

At the sound of the tape player starting, the boys get unusually quiet quickly; Steve, just as curious as you, and Billy waiting and watching for your reactions carefully.

You immediately know what song’s playing as soon as the first notes hit, and the squeal that leaves your lips comes from somewhere deep within your soul.

It’s Fleetwood Mac’s Everywhere, and you absolutely adore this song. Billy normally teases you all about it; “What’s with you and that hippie band?” he’ll playfully taunt, but in reality you know he doesn’t hate them half as much as he claims to do.

Nevertheless, you didn’t expect the song at all, and you can’t help but sing along; something that Steve instantly joins in on.

Billy groans, trying to look annoyed, but he has a hard time containing his smile when he watches you two have the time of your life, trying to hit the high notes of the song – and failing miserably.

“Oh, I ~, I want to be with you everywhere!” Steve croaks, flailing his arm around for emphasis, making you and Billy laugh.

You’re beaming with joy throughout the whole song, and Billy’s chest tightens; he loves you both so fucking much, and he's hit with the realization once again while watching you two.

He still can’t quite wrap his mind around the fact that this is real.

That he’s actually on his way to California with the two people he adores the most, and that he gets to share this journey with you.

He hasn’t been back to the West Coast since moving to Hawkins years ago, and the prospect of it is both exciting and nerve-racking; but he feels at ease knowing that you and Steve are right there by his side.

The road trip so far has been rather chaotic, but he wouldn’t expect anything else from the two people he secretly considers the loves of his life.

By now the song has changed to a Survivor one that Steve really likes, and he catches Billy’s gaze in the rearview mirror, mouthing a silent “I love you” before continuing with his singing, hands tapping the beat on the steering wheel with quite some passion and rhythm, and Billy is unsure how he will survive this trip with the way his heart and brain keeps short-circuiting at every small thing either one of you does.

God, he’s in deep, and that used to be something that would scare him, but not anymore. Not when you have been the most patient with him throughout the last year of you three dating.

Billy knows it’s unconventional, and god knows it’s not always easy, but each time he hears Steve’s hearty laugh, or the way his name falls from your lips, he’s reminded once more just how worth it it really is.

“You okay there, love?” Your voice calls him back to reality, “You’re awfully quiet.”

“Yeah, I-sorry. I’m alright, just thinking.”

“You wanna share these thoughts?” Steve questions, concerned eyes finding his once more in the narrow rearview mirror.

Billy just shakes his head, and you don’t push him.

“Okay, anyone else as hungry as me?” Steve decides to change the subject instead, and both you and Billy nod.

“You want your triple power push pops yet?” Billy teases, glancing at the pile of sweets that still takes up quite a lot of space next to him.

„No, I was thinking something a little more savory; Mc‘s maybe?“

“Craving a happy meal, I see?”

“Fuck off. Besides, they’re fun.”

You just roll your eyes at your boyfriends antics, looking out of the window to watch the bypassing scenery and maybe spot the next large fries sign in the meantime.

You’ll probably have to switch driving duties soon as well, and another glance at the map would probably be a good idea too. If the driving stays as smooth as it has been so far, you might be able to make it to Albuquerque, New Mexico, by the end of tonight. The three of you just have to find a somewhat decent motel for a couple of hours of sleep, and then it should only be 13 more hours till California from there in the morning.

The mixtape is now playing a Mötley Crüe song, you notice, because is it really one of Billy’s mixtapes if it doesn’t feature at least one metal tune?

You doubt it.

Humming along quietly, you continue your quest for a nearby diner, eyes scanning the surrounding area while the sun slowly starts to get lower, and your boys keep joking around in the background.

“Billy, stop it, you little shit.”

Glancing at your two boyfriends, you can’t help but smile at the scene.

Billy and Steve are sitting next to each other, sharing the booth seat right across from you, and Billy keeps hogging the last fries, seemingly trying to feed them to Steve before eating them himself instead.

His laugh is loud and earnest, and it fills both the surrounding space and your hearts with an unimaginable warmth. You watch him gaze at Steve with loving eyes, before shaking his head in slight disbelieve.

“I just don’t understand how you fell for this the fourth time.”

Steve playfully pokes Billy’s side at that.

“It’s ‘cause I keep thinking you’ll be a considerate boyfriend and share.”

“Aw, I’m sorry, pretty boy. I forgot you’re a hopeless optimist with a short memory span. Here-“

“No, I’m not falling for this again.”

You watch the two fool around like that for a little while longer, before letting your eyes wander briefly through the rest of the restaurant. It’s not particularly busy, and the booth you picked out is rather hidden.

You’re almost done anyways; the burgers and nuggets long since finished, with only their cardboard packaging remaining on the table in front of you.

Well, those and Steve plastic dalmatian dog toy, that kind of looks like a cow.

“They sure provide some quality offerings in those happy meals.” Billy had commented dryly, upon seeing the supposed dog, earning him a crumbled-up napkin straight to the face from Steve.

With the boys still fighting over the last few fries, you decide to clean the dining table up a bit, collecting some of the trash on your tray and carrying it to the nearby cart.

By the time you’re back at the table, you’re boyfriends have managed to munch down the last of the fries; except for one that they saved for you.

So considerate; but you decline it when Billy offers to feed it to you. Instead, you steal his coke, taking a big swing from it before getting up again.

“Come on boys, we should get back on the road.” You state, because someone needs to keep the time in mind - and with the way that Steve’s absentmindedly fidgeting around with the plastic toy, and Billy’s on his third yawn within the last two minutes, you doubt it will be either one of them.

How they can go from hyperactive kids to sleepy toddlers in the span of seconds is worth a study in itself, you think, before watching Steve pull desperately on a push door.

Yeah, the thing with the study seems about right.

It’s quiet in the car now, except for the gentle music playing in the background and the soft snores coming from your boyfriends.

Steve had been the first one to knock himself out on the passenger seat, and after talking a little bit more with Billy, and him making sure that you’d be alright driving by yourself without any conscious company for a bit, he ended up falling asleep as well.

There’s barely any other cars on the highway, and the darkness of the night has slowly started to settle in all around you. It’s a peaceful and quiet atmosphere, one that’s only amplified by the Roxy Music song that’s currently coming through the speakers.

You hum along to it, enjoying Bryan Ferry’s melancholic voice and the comforting feeling that the moment provides.

Glancing over to Steve, and then to Billy, you can’t help but smile to yourself at their image.

Steve’s still holding the tiny adnomination of a dog tightly in one hand, forehead pressed against the window, and you wonder if you should wake him up, because the sleeping position looks anything but comfortable.

Billy on the other hand, had decided to get one of your Sweatshirts from the trunk earlier, bunching it up as a makeshift pillow. But he’s been moving around too much, and now he’s simply clinging to it in his sleep, with his head leaning back against the Camaro seat, lips parted as little huffs escaping him every now and then.

You wonder what either one of them is dreaming about, quietly hoping it’s something pleasant, before turning your attention back towards the empty road in front of you.

Steve is the one to wake up first.

It makes sense, you think, because he’s probably been sleeping the longest so far.

When he turns his head to you, eyes still heavy from the previous slumber, you have to stifle a laugh because his hair looks like it’s been having a mind of its own, sleepwalking into every possible direction, and instinctively you smooth parts of it out with your free hand.

“It looks like your hair is trying to get away from you, Steve.” You tease with a quiet giggle.

“Make it stay.” He mumbles, voice groggy, and head evidently still clouded with sleep. “Don’t let it get away.”

“I’m trying,” you promise, stroking his hair carefully, until he slips back into sleep, and you watch him with fond eyes.

He wakes up again 15 minutes later, and this time he’s more conscious. His hair looks less wild now, too, but he still asks you to play with it.

“Feels nice.” He whispers, leaning into your hand, and you laugh quietly, mindful of the fact that Billy’s still sleeping.

“You’re aware that I'm currently driving, right?”

“Mhm, just a little bit longer, please.”

“Fine.”

“What’s that playing?”

“Slave to Love.”

“You tryin’ to tell me something?”

You laugh again softly, before shaking your head. “No, just in the mood for Bryan Ferry.”

“Like, carnally?”

“No, dingus. Spiritually. Although now that you mention it, don’t give me any ideas.”

“Hm, don’t let Billy hear you.”

“He’s still fast asleep.” You observe after a quick glance into the rearview mirror.

“He is?” Steve mumbles, before turning his head back around, trying to see for himself.

“Why? What’s going on?” You question quietly when you see the slight worry in Steve’s tired eyes.

“Does he seem odd to you?” He whispers, voice and words so hushed, you almost would have missed it.

“He’s been a little quiet today.” You acknowledge, looking back at the day, “But I don’t blame him. This trip is exciting but it’s also a little scary. Especially for him.”

“Hm.” Steve hums, as if deep in thought. “I’m a bit worried about him.” He admits carefully.

“’I’m scared that he’ll retreat back into himself. That being in California will be too much, but he won’t want to say anything because he doesn’t want to ruin our little summer holiday.”

You’re quiet for a while, reflecting on the events of the day and Steve’s words.

“I get what you mean, but I think we should be talking to Billy directly about that, instead of speculating on how he’s feeling.”

“I’m not trying to speculate.” Steve defends in a whisper, “I’m just worried that this trip is going to bring up a lot of his old trauma and baggage, and instead of talking to us about it, he might feel the need to push through it all by himself, because the trip is supposed to be fun.”

You’re silent again while you set a turn signal, moving over to a different lane, before speaking up again softly.

“You certainly have a point, and it has crossed my mind too, but I think that we should try talking to him first. Maybe we have to be a bit more reassuring and determined in reminding Billy that whatever it is he’s feeling, we’re not leaving, and he’s not being a bother.

That no matter what’s coming up emotionally for him during the trip, he won’t have to go through any of it alone; won’t have to face any of these painful memories all by himself.”

“Yeah, we should definitely do that,” Steve mumbles, before adding, “I’m just always a little worried about smothering him, you know. He can be so stubborn sometimes and-“

Billy suddenly starts moving a little with a small groan, and it has Steve and you stopping in your tracks.

“Maybe we should adjourn this conversation.” You propose, voice hushed, after Billy has settled back into his seat, seemingly still fast asleep.

“Right, that might make sense. And then tomorrow we’ll figure the rest out together because we are a threeam team.” Steve jokes quietly, a proud look on his face at his pun.

You just groan, but there’s a small smile on your lips regardless, although it’s quickly replaced by a big yawn.

“You want me to take over with the driving?” Steve offers, and you gently shake your head.

“No, but maybe keep your eyes open for any possible motel signs.” You suggest, and Steve nods his head in understanding.

“Yeah, a comfy bed and some more sleep does sound appealing.”

Steve’s quiet for a while and then he suddenly states, “You know I fucking love you, right?”

You look over at him, eyebrows raised in surprise at the unsuspected admission.

“I just-I don’t think I say it enough, you know. And I fear that with all the teasing it might get drowned out sometimes. So, I just want you to know that I fucking love you. I really do. You still make my heart speed up with each of your smiles and I’m really excited about this trip we’re taking. Oh, also there’s a motel sign to your right.”

The motel Steve ended up spotting turned out to be rather nice. At least if the bright, non-flickering neon lights are anything to go by.

Riverside Mill Motel it advertises in bright pink letters – yet there’s not a single mill or river in sight; but you let that pass for the night.

After parking the car on the dusty gravel, Steve had offered to get the keys while you’d try to wake up Billy in the meantime.

Getting out of the Camaro with a small groan and a stretch, you make your way around the car towards Billy’s side.

He’s still fast asleep, entirely unfazed by the sound of the car doors opening and closing again. His face is still pressed against your hoodie, and you can’t help but smile at how cute and peaceful he looks.

“Hey, sweetheart,” you whisper, voice soft, and low, brushing a few strands of his hair out of his face carefully. His eyes flutter slightly at your touch, but otherwise he stays asleep, mumbling something unintelligible.

You gently stroke his cheek and just watch him for a moment. Watch the way his chest falls and rises steadily; the way his long lashes brush against his freckled-adorned skin, and the way his soft pink lips form into a pout.

Probably dreaming about losing the last fries to Steve, you think with a smile.

But you’re still on a mission, and even though it pains you a little to disturb his peaceful slumber, you know you’ll have to wake him up, because carrying him to bed is not an option.

Not for you anyways.

“Billy, my love, you’ve gotta wake up,” you whisper, but the only answer you get is another incomprehensible mumble.

“We’ve reached our final destination for the night, sweetheart.”

You still caress his face gently with your hand, and he instinctively nuzzles into it, even in his sleep.

Maybe it’s because he subconsciously knows it’s you and it finally feels safe to chase the touch of a loved one. The little action certainly has your heart and chest swell with a warm and fuzzy feeling, as you continue your ministrations; whispering soft words paired with gentle touches until finally, Billy’s eyes slowly flutter open, gaze a little confused and unfocused.

“Hey, sleepyhead,” you coo, “Welcome back, we made it to-“

“California?” Billy sleepily mumbles, before the gears start turning in his head for a second, and he follows his previous words up with a slightly exasperated, “The fuck am I even saying.”

You laugh at that, and something in Billy instantly shifts at the sound. There’s a certain clarity in his eyes when he looks up at you again, pure adoration written all over his features.

“Hey..” he whispers, voice still raspy with sleep, but there’s an undertone to it that you know all too well, and it has you shaking your head in amusement.

“Oh, don’t even start, Casanova. We’re going straight to bed.”

“That’s what I was about to suggest-wait, where are we exactly?”

“Somewhere close to Albuquerque.”

“Really? We actually made it this far?”

“You questioning my driving skills, Hargrove?”

“No! Ma’am! Wouldn’t dream of it.” The smile on Billy’s face is dopey and slightly suggestive, but it’s also traced with sleep, and you sigh.

“Alright, big boy let’s get you to bed.” You state, while opening the car door wider, so Billy can step out.

“Hey! Take me out to dinner first, lady.” He mutters under his breath before laughing quietly to himself.

Jesus, Steve is really rubbing off on him. Not that you mind, but still.

“Didn’t you forget something, handsome?” You call after Billy, once he's making his way towards the motel building with a little too much determination and self-assurance for someone who doesn’t actually have any real clue of where to go.

Your words have him stopping in his tracks in an instant, and he quickly turns around, making his way back towards again you with big strides.

“You’re right, sorry.” He mutters, while engulfing you in a hug that takes you by surprise.

“Thank you for driving and getting us here safe.” He mumbles against your ear, before planting a big wet kiss on your forehead.

“Love you forever.”

Sleepy Billy still seems awfully similar to drunk Billy, you notice with a soft smile, and his sweet action almost made you forget why you had called him back over in the first place.

The luggage.

You won’t have to take all of it with you, just the valuables and the shared bag with the toiletries, because Steve told you earlier that he really craved a shower.

When you go to the trunk to get the things, Billy follows you like a lost puppy, before subtly slipping his big hand into yours, gazing down at you innocently while waiting for your reaction.

God, he can be such an utter sweetheart-

“Hey! To the handsome fella with the bedroom eyes, and the lady that looks like zombie stand-in for the Thriller music video, meet me in room 245.” Steve’s voice calls out, and you spot him on the balcony of the second floor, waving with what seems to be a pair of keys.

“What’s that fucker thinking?” Billy mumbles quietly.

“My thoughts exactly,” you grumble.

A zombie stand-in. Bold coming from a guy who-

Whatever. You’re too tired for this.

With the duffel bag in one hand, and Billy in the other, you make your way towards the motel complex.

No matter how big the bed might be, you think, you’ll definitely accidentally kick Steve out of it at least once tonight.

The motel room ends up being not too bad for, well, a motel room.

Most of its decorations and furniture are kept in deep orangey colors and dark brown tones, giving the room a slight 70s vibe. It doesn’t look to dusty or weirdly stained either, so you make your way towards the bed without much hesitation.

“You wanna sleep in the middle?” You offer Billy, and he looks a little surprised, but that quickly fades and instead he nods his head quietly.

“If that’s alright.”

“Of course, it is.”

Your gaze lingers on him for a moment before turning your attention back to the brunette.

“Hey Steve!” You call out.

“Yeah?”

“Catch.”

And without any further notice, the duffel bag is flying his way. Steve manages to catch it, looking slightly confused for a moment before he remembers his wish for a quick shower.

“Thanks!” he chirps, “You know where to find me. I’ll be back in a flash.”

He’s about to step into the small bathroom, but then he turns around again.

“Forgot the most important thing,” he states, making his way back towards you and Billy on the bed.

You look at him a little confused.

“I’ve already locked the door and took care of the curtains, what-“

“Not what I’m talking about,” Steve interrupts.

“Haven’t given either one of you any good night kisses yet,” he mumbles, “You two might be fast asleep once I’m out of the shower again, so this-“ he pecks your lips, “Is for you, in case I don’t get to do it again tonight.”

Your eyes soften at his adorable gesture, and you kiss him back with ease.

“I love you, my little zombie girl,” he whispers, “And I hope you have the bestest sleep, and I can’t wait to keep kissing your pretty face in the morning.”

Under different circumstances you would have probably countered his little jab, but you let it slide, because Steve’s been exceptionally sweet tonight.

And you’re also really tired.

“Love you too, Stevie,” you mumble into the kiss, “Don’t slip in the shower, and come join us really quickly again, okay?”

“Hm, god knows I’ll try,” he whispers before brushing his nose gently against yours.

“Night, my love.”

Night Stevie boy.”

He smiles at you before moving over to Billy, who’s stripped himself of everything, but his boxers, and has already slipped under the covers of the bed.

“Now to you, my beautiful boyfriend. I’ve been wanting to kiss you all day, and it’s a shame that I won’t get to kiss you all night as a way to compensate for all the kisses I’ve missed, but we have to start somewhere so this-“ brushing his lips gently over Billy’s, “Is for you; and for me.”

Their kiss deepens quickly, and you watch the way the two men move in synch, before breaking apart again with a pant.

You know that their longing for each other tends to pent up more during the day, because they always have to be so restraint and mindful of how affectionate they can be with one another in public.

They can’t just lean in for a kiss, the way they usually do it with you, and you know that it pains them both.

You watch how their kiss grows a little desperate; how Steve’s hand grips a fist full of Billy’s curls trying to keep him close, and how Billy moans right into the it.

It’s a sound that goes straight to your core each time, and it’s no different now, even though you’re beyond sleepy.

But then all of a sudden Steve stops and pulls away for good. Billy groans unsatisfied, trying to pull his boyfriend back by the loop of his jeans, but Steve swats his hands away, laughing.

“This is for you teasing me all day, you little minx,” he tells Billy, “Maybe if I’m feeling gracious you can make it up to me tomorrow.”

Billy huffs at that, but his eyes are sparkling mischievously.

“Oh, Stevie baby, two can play a game. If you think I’ve been teasing you before you haven’t seen the best of it yet, pretty boy.”

“Pah! Then it’s on, Hargrove, because I’ve made you beg before, remember? And I’m sure I can make you beg for it again.”

You roll your eyes at their antics, though it is amusing to watch.

“So, no good night wishes for me?” Billy observes when Steve makes his way back to the bathroom.

“Ah, fuck.” Steve turns around once more, and it has all three of you laughing.

“I’m already messing with your head, it seems.” Billy teases, and while his voice has a cocky undertone, his eyes gaze up at Steve with utter love and longing.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, Hargrove. Don’t let it get to your dick or your ego though.”

Billy just sticks out his tongue at that.

“Alright, Hargrove, one more good night kiss for you!” This time he carefully plants it on Billy’s forehead, before nuzzling his nose against his. “I hope you have the bestest dreams and I can’t wait to beat you tomorrow at your own teasing games.”

“You wish! But I’d like to see you try.”

“Just you wait, you’ll see me try and win.”

“Go shower, Steve, and dream on.”

“We’ll see. good night, loverboy.”

“Night, Stevie. Love you lots.”

“Love you more.”

“That’s impossible.”

“Wanna bet-“

“Guys! Do you mind taking your dick measuring games elsewhere. How do you even manage to make everything into a competition?” You huff, before adding with a teasing tone, “Besides, isn’t it obvious that I’m the one who loves you two the most, otherwise I wouldn’t be putting up with any of this and-“

You’re interrupted suddenly by four tickling hands, and the laughing voices of Billy and Steve.

“She’s the biggest brat in the universe, isn’t she?” Steve observes.

“Uh-huh, should probably teach her a lesson about that.” Billy adds with a grin, his hands still tickling you relentlessly.

“Guys, stop that’s so unfair.” You plead, voice giggly, trying to squirm away in between fits of laughter but to no avail. The shenanigans continue until you’re completely breathless and begging, and it’s only then that the boys show you some mercy.

Your men are almost as much out of breath as you are by the end of it, and Billy lets himself plop down unceremoniously on top of you.

“Alright,” Steve states, before getting up from the bed, “I should probably head into the shower now, and you should really get some sleep, we still have quite the journey planed tomorrow.”

You just nod, too exhausted for anything else, and Billy gives him the most unmotivated thumbs up you’ve ever seen.

Steve’s quick to disappear into the bathroom after that, while Billy helps you out of your summer dress.

You two curl up in bed quickly, exchanging sleepy I love you’s, lazy kisses and good night’s. You can still faintly hear Steve’s voice coming from the shower, singing some Olivia Newton-John song, and you smile at the mental picture of it, before drifting off to sleep.

You wake up to the unsettling feeling that something is wrong.

Something is missing and you find out quickly that you’re kind of right, because Billy isn’t next to you anymore.

At first, you just think he must have cuddled up more towards Steve or something; but that thought gets quickly discarded when you look over to your dark-haired boyfriend, who’s taking up most of the bed, classic starfish position, with Billy nowhere to be seen.

You try to ignore the way your heartrate picks up, straining your ears for any small sounds, because maybe Billy’s in the bathroom, but there’s no light coming from beneath the door, and you can’t hear anything out of the ordinary either, so that’s probably not right.

Slipping out of the bed carefully, you go looking for your dress, but you have absolutely no clue where Billy lazily threw that one earlier, so instead you settle with Steve’s t-shirt, that’s actually Billy’s, but Stevie-sticky-fingers likes to bend these little rules of ownership.

After being somewhat modestly dressed, you carefully make your way towards the door, mindful of the softly snoring boyfriend behind you.

The door isn’t locked, you notice, something you’re pretty sure you did earlier, and the subtle worry inside of you rises up once again.

Taking a deep breath, you open it, and peak your head outside first, but there’s nothing.

The balcony in front of you is completely empty and left in the dark with no sights of Billy.

God, this can’t be happening, you think, and now you try to remember whether or not you saw Billy’s car keys on the nightstand.

But he wouldn’t just leave like that, would he?

You think about waking Steve up, when suddenly, you see it.

There’s a flicker of a cigarette, and the shadow of a hunched-up figure sitting on the steps of stairs.

You’re not sure how you managed to miss that silhouette two seconds ago, but the longer you look at it, the more you’re convinced that it’s Billy.

“Billy?” you whisper his name lightly into the night, “What are you doing out here?”

His head whips around at the sound of your voice; he looks like he’s been crying, and you feel your heart sink and shatter at the sight.

Oh no.

Ignoring the fact that both your feet and legs are completely bare, you hastily make your way over to your boyfriend.

“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” He tries to turn away again, mumbling something about it not being a big deal – but it has to be if he’s out here at god-knows-what hour, sitting alone, crying and smoking, while his partners are peacefully sleeping two doors down.

Or three.

You didn’t actually count.

“Billy, hey,” you whisper, after sitting down next to him and carefully cradling his face in both of your hands, giving him no choice but to look at you.

You see his lips tremble slightly, and his eyes are getting teary again. He tries hard to blink them away, but it’s just no use because they keep coming, and you can see that he’s frustrated with himself.

“Oh, my love,” you whisper, voice endlessly soft and so full of understanding that it breaks Billy’s last restrains, and he reaches out and hugs you, really hugs you, like his life’s depending on it.

He buries his face in the crook of your neck and clings to you with such desperation and need, like you’re the one thing that’s keeping him afloat in the undoubtedly tumultuous sea of emotions he’s currently lost in.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles over and over again, like a single prayer; and all you can do is hold him and repeat your own little prayer, that it’s alright, that it’s okay, and that he can just let it all out; you’ve got him.

You still don't know what's wrong, what's got him so upset, but you don't want to push him right now.

You're not sure how long you two end up sitting there on the cold metal stairs of the motel, underneath a starry sky, until Billy's tears cease, and he mumbles, “I'm sorry, we haven't even made it to California yet and I'm already ruining the trip.”

“Oh, honey, no!” You whisper, “Billy, my love, you haven't ruined anything!”

And Billy gently lifts his head at that, looking at you with wide eyes and tear-stained cheeks. “No?” He sniffles, and it breaks your heart all over again.

“No, Billy, you haven't ruined anything. I promise!”

“But I woke you up. You should be sleeping, and you-you're not supposed to see me like this, I-“ His voice sounds so utterly raw, that you feel like your heart is being ripped out of your chest and skinned alive.

Billy curls up into you again, hiding away in your soft embrace, and you gently brush your hands through his hair before asking, "You wanna tell me what's got you this upset, my love?”

Your voice is nothing but patient and loving and everything that Billy needs in this moment.

“Bad dream,” he mumbles, and before you can even remind him of the fact that he's supposed to wake at least one of you up he states:

"I know, I should have told you, but it wasn't that bad. It really wasn't! I just, I couldn't fall back asleep after it; I kept worrying, and it all got too much, and I thought maybe a smoke and some fresh air could calm me down, but the thoughts just kept coming and they wouldn't stop and-“

“What kind of thoughts?” you whisper.

Billy's quiet for a while, before he mumbles, in the smallest voice you've ever heard.

“My mom.”

Another heartbeat of silence fills the summer night air, and then Billy whispers, almost unintelligible, “Kept thinking about my mom.”

“Oh, Billy.”

The revelation doesn't come that surprising; you've assumed something along those lines, but it breaks your heart still.

You decide to sit down on his lap, so he can face you fully.

He instinctively wraps his arms more securely around your sides, and you nuzzle your face in the crook of his neck, before playing softly with the strands of his hair, a habit that you know puts him at ease.

“Tell me more about it,” you whisper, before leaning your head gently against his shoulder, looking up at him with eyes full of patience and love, and Billy swears he could melt right then and there.

But he's quiet for a while once more.

There must be a pond somewhere near, you think, because you can hear frogs croaking in the distance, and there are still some crickets chirping a summer night tune.

You watch Billy's eyes wander unfocused over the horizon, and then the hand on your waist tightens before he whispers:

“I still miss her. I know it's silly; especially after all this time and considering what she's done, but I still miss her.”

“It's not silly,” you reassure him, “It's not silly at all.”

“Well, but it feels silly. It feels childish and wrong to miss her. And I thought I had that under control, at least while we were in Hawkins, I did; but now that-that we're going back to California, I fear that she's going to be everywhere.

And I don't just mean the memory of her; I mean actually her.

I'm scared that I will see her in any person that resembles her looks, even slightly. And that I will be both, relieved and disappointed each time it isn't her.”

“Oh, my love.” You mumble, voice pained, and slightly unsure of what to say.

“I just-I just want to understand it, you know? I just want to understand why she left me all alone with him, when she knew exactly what he was capable of. I want to understand why she wouldn’t come and get me like she promised. If it was something that I did, that made her-that made her never come back; I know I couldn’t protect her, but I-“

“Oh, Billy, no! Billy, you were a kid!” You whisper, cradling his face in both of your hands.

“You were a kid, Billy! There’s nothing that you could have done that would warrant the fate you got. You were a fucking child, and it was never your responsibility to keep your mom safe. If anything, it was the other way around, love. She was supposed to keep you safe; both of your parents were, and they both failed miserably; but that was never your fault!”

The tears are back in Billy’s eyes, and by now you’re sure they’re back in yours too.

“You know what the worst thing is?” He whispers, voice on the verge of breaking again, and you pull him as close as humanly possible.

“The worst thing is that I would forgive her in a heartbeat. Like, how pathetic is that?”

“It’s not pathetic at all, Billy. It really isn’t.” You state with a determined shake of your head.

“After everything that happened to you, the fact that you still haven’t given up on your mom is more a reflection on how much you want to still see the good in her, regardless of what happened. And I think it’s natural for you to miss her, especially ‘cause you’ve never gotten any real closure. It makes sense that you would long for answers.”

“Even after all this time?”

“Even after all this time.” You confirm gently.

“A wound like that doesn’t just heal because some time has passed. And it probably doesn’t help that your relationship to her is so complex; because you associate both, really happy memories with her, and really painful ones; and it’s hard to mend those two with one another and try to make sense of it all; because it just really doesn’t.”

Billy looks at you, glossy-eyed and a little shy.

“You really think so?”

“Oh, you bet I do.”

There’s the hint of a smile gracing Billy’s face before he suddenly gets worried again.

“And you’re not mad?”

“Mad? Billy, what would I be mad about?”

“Me,” he whispers, “This trip is supposed to be relaxing and fun and just overall good times, and instead we’re sitting outside of a motel, crying because I-“

“Because you miss your mom; and you have every right to miss her, just like you have every right to have mixed feelings about her, or have a wish for closure. Whatever that might look like.”

You’re quiet for a moment, contemplating your next words carefully.

“Billy, do you want to know a secret?” you whisper, and you watch him furrow his brows slightly before nodding his head softly.

“Do you know why I wanted to go to California out of all places? Do you know what I’m most excited about seeing there?”

Billy shakes his head lightly, and you continue:

“It’s because you always talk about it with the biggest, most beautiful smile on your face. Because loving you made me love California. It’s almost like it’s an extension of you. And I’ve only ever seen it through your eyes, and I can’t wait to see it through my own.

But the thing I’m most excited about; the thing I can’t wait to see, is for you to be back there. For you to be back at the ocean, back in your element, to witness you burry your feet in the soft sand like you used to as a kid.

To see you reunite with a place you’ve been craving and yearning and dreaming about for the last three years. I can’t wait for you to show me and Steve around; to get to make all these amazing memories with you – with you and Steve because I love you both so much.”

Taking another deep breath, you add, “And Billy, whatever might happen within the next three weeks, you won’t have to go through any of it alone. You won’t have to face any of it by yourself, you have me and Steve right here by your side now, and we’re not going anywhere.”

Billy is sniffling again, eyes teary and touched, and you gently kiss the small droplets from his cheeks, ever so softly.

“But Billy, in order to be of help, you have to talk to us. I’d like to think that I know you very well, but even I can’t read your mind; and the only thing more painful than knowing that you’re suffering through old wounds and memories is knowing that you’re suffering through it alone.

I know I won’t be able to take away all the pain or the hurt you might be feeling, but it might soothe some of it, if you’re sharing it with me, with me or Steve.”

Billy looks at you again with those piercing blue eyes, the ones you fell in love with over a year ago, and this time they are full of adoration and wonder.

“I don’t deserve you.” he whispers, and you shake your head silently, hands still cupping his face.

“That’s the thing, Billy, you do. You do deserve me, me and Steve, and all kinds of good things in this world, hell you deserve half of California at the very least if you ask me.”

The little laugh that leaves Billy’s lips is small and timid, but it’s still something, and you hold on to that.

You gaze into each other’s eyes once more. He’s so close, you can count each and every freckle on his already sun-kissed skin.

God knows you and Steve have tried doing that a hundred times before, failing miserably each time, because you always get distracted by the loving look on Billy's face, so full of patience and adoration, while your fingers keep tracing every single dot on his face.

His lips usually twitch in a smile while you try hard not to lose count, or give into the growing urge to kiss him, the longer your eyes linger on his beautiful face. It’s infuriatingly impossible, really. But one day, you will be able to count them all, each and every fucking freckle.

Or at least that’s what you tell yourself.

“You wanna get back to bed and try for another few hours of sleep?” you question, hands still tangled in his hair.

“Yeah, that sounds like a good idea.”

“Okay, let me just-“ you’re cut off by your own squeak, as Billy decides to get up, with you still in his arms.

“Billy, what-“

“Shh, just let me carry you at least. Don’t want to let you go just yet.”

You can’t argue with that, and so instead you curl more up in his embrace, legs securely wrapped around his waist and arms flung around his neck.

“Still so strong,” you mumble quietly, slightly in awe, and Billy laughs softly.

“Gotta be able to take care of my girl at least.”

You nuzzle his neck at that, trying to hide your smile.

His girl.

That still gets you every time.

When you step back into the motel room, Steve is still knocked out, but he wakes up slightly when the bed dips significantly because of you two.

“What’s going on?” he mumbles, hair tussled, and eyes puffy.

“Had a little conversation.”

“At what, three in the morning?” Steve raises his head, slightly alarmed, and the worried furrow between his brows deepens when he realizes that both Billy and you have been crying.

“Shh, it’s okay. We’re okay now, I’ll tell you everything in the morning.” Billy soothes, trying to keep Steve from completely waking up.

“You sure?”

“Yeah, had a bit of a melt-down, but our girl helped me through it. I promise I tell you everything after sunrise.”

Steve huffs something you can’t quite make out, but he seems convinced enough, because he snuggles closer to Billy, before carefully kissing his tear-stained cheek.

“Love you so much,” he murmurs, “Got me all worried and shit.”

“Don’t be, I’m okay now – we both are.”

“Yeah,” you nod your head, though you doubt Steve can see it in the dark.

“Let’s try to get at least a little bit more sleep.”

You nuzzle into Billy’s left side, while Steve occupies his right, and Billy let’s out a satisfied little sigh, before kissing each of your foreheads gently.

“Love you two crackheads so much.” He whispers, “Thank you for always looking out for me.”

“Always,” you mutter, sleep already taking over half of your brain, and the last thing you notice is Steve’s hand brushing against yours, trying to hold a part of you too.

You wake up the next morning to someone playing gently with your hair, and soft kisses being peppered all over your face.

“There she is,” Billy’s raspy voice coos once you slowly open your eyes.

“Hey, there sweetheart,” He whispers, “I’m sorry I’m waking you up like this, but we need to get going. Steve’s already in the car outside waiting, and you need to get dressed.”

“Hmm, don’t wanna.” You huff, voice tired and ruff.

“I know, love, but can’t carry out of this motel room in just your panties. You can go back to sleep right after; you just gotta help me slip you into your dress, and then I’ll do everything else.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

Billy keeps true to his words, and after getting you dressed into your summer dress, he carries you carefully to the Camaro, where you fall back asleep almost instantly.

You’re not sure how many hours have passed when you wake up again, but you feel a lot more well rested. You can hear the faint sounds of some music and the hushed voices of your boyfriends talking, and in this moment you just feel completely at peace.

“Ah, the little snore-snurf decided to join us again.” Steve observes with a smile, once he notices you’re awake, and you can hear Billy try to bite back a laugh.

“Steve, come on, she might be a snore-snurf, but she’s our snore snurf.”

“You know what, fuck off, the both of you.” You grumble, although you can’t quite hide your smile either.

“You feeling any less tired?” Billy questions, turning around from the passenger seat, to get a better look at you.

“Yeah,” you confirm, before remembering the events of last night, and you whisper, “How are you doing?”

Billy’s eyes soften at the concerned look on your face.

“Better,” he states, “Talked to Steve about it too,” he adds, and Steve gives you a little thumbs up, his brown eyes finding yours in the rearview mirror.

“I made him promise to communicate with us better, and I want either one of you to wake me next time.” His voice is still soft, but there’s also a seriousness behind it, and you nod your head in agreement.

“You hungry yet?” Billy inquires, once you’ve sat up straight again in your seat.

“Why, do you still have a spare fry to offer?” you tease, and it has both of the boys laughing.

“No, but we had a little rest earlier, getting some quick breakfast, and I saved some pancakes and orange juice for you.”

Your eyes light up at that, partly because of the prospect of food, and partly because it’s a rather sweet gesture.

“Oh, well someone’s awake now,” Steve teases, and you stick out your tongue before turning your attention back to Billy.

God, you really fucking love these guys.

Despite the pancakes being rather cold, they taste amazing, though it might be your hunger talking and making that verdict.

Still, Billy watches you with loving eyes. He wants to talk to you about last night, properly thank you for it too, but that’ll have to wait for now, because you still have some hours to go, till California.

You’ve made it halfway through Arizona already. He offered Steve a while ago to flip driving duties, and it seems that Steve is finally ready to take him up on that.

And so, a little while later, Billy’s the one driving, you’re back on the passenger seat, and Steve is having the time of his life in the backseat with all of his sweets.

He’s the purest dorks of them all.

You catch Billy glancing over at you, and you smile. He mirrors it, eyes so soft and full of love that you have to stifle the urge to just crawl into his lap and never ever leave again.

He makes you feel like you’re something truly special. Both of your boys do, and while you’re not quite sure what the future holds, you know it’s going to be good if you have Billy and Steve by your side.

Looking out of the window again, you notice how some of the scenery has changed; or at least you like to think it did.

The excitement in your veins is running hot and fast because you know it won’t be long till you’re in California now.

You’ve listened to Billy and Steve talk earlier, when they were both brooding over your little map. You didn’t understand half of it, because reading maps has never been your strong suit, but what you did pick up was that it wouldn’t be long now, until you’d arrive in the sunny west coast state.

Though to be fair, it would still be another hour or two until you'd arrive at the little beach house Steve rented. Family ties and all that.

Billy notices you squirming in your seat, but he’s unaware that it’s the excitement that keeps bubbling up inside of you; instead, he thinks you might be too hot, and he rolls the windows down for a gentle breeze.

“Better, angel?” He questions, and it takes you a moment to realize what he’s talking about; you’re about to correct him, that you’re just fidgety with all the barely contained anticipation, when Steve suddenly calls out, “Oh my god, Hargrove! Is that the Boys of Summer?! Turn it up, turn it up! God, I love you and your little mixtape.”

Billy smiles and complies.

And with that the perfect summer song is blasting through the speakers.

You can feel it now, with every beat of the song that’s cursing through your veins; the freedom that’s being sung about.

It’s in the way the wind rushes in through the open window, tangling in your hair; it’s in the golden sun rays on your skin, and the big and bright smiles on Steve’s and Billy’s faces.

It’s in the love you feel for both of these men; and in this moment you feel like you’re flying, like your soul might slip out of your body and into the depths of the cornflower blue sky that’s wide, and endless somewhere above you.

“And I can tell you, my love for you will still be strong, after the boys of summer have gone.“ Steve and Billy’s voices call out on top of their lungs.

And the laugh that leaves your lips is light and warm, like the sunbeams kissing Billy’s freckled skin. He smiles at you brightly before sending you a playful wink, and then he just continues singing.

Part of you is awestruck because he doesn’t sing often; not like that anyways.

Sober and hearty and without any restrains.

Steve uses one of his jolly rancher sticks as a makeshift microphone, grinning from ear to ear when the line “Remember how you made me crazy, remember how I made you scream.“ comes on, and you find yourself joining in on their little concert, dancing away in your seat, feeling completely and wholly alive.

The song is almost done when you spot it, that cheesy ‘Welcome to California’ sign, and you cheer, pointing at it, as if Billy could’ve missed it.

He just smiles, captivated by your excitement and the pure adoration he feels for you both.

Steve somehow manages to convince Billy to pull over, so he can take at least one picture.

It ends up being three; you and Billy, Billy and Steve; and Steve and you.

While the polaroids develop, Steve excitedly gushes on how cute these pictures are going to be, and how this is really it; the beginning of a long adventure in California, and Billy smiles while he keeps on driving.

It’s barely two hours later when the sun slowly starts to set, and Billy finally, finally steers the Camaro into the driveway of your little summertime get away.

It’s a nice little beach house, and it looks warm and cozy and inviting; but you don’t quite have eyes for it now, because everyone is scrambling to get out of the car the fastest, running straight for the beach instead.

You can unpack the car later, test the bed and the television and the sturdiness of the kitchen table all in good time; but right now, you just want to beat your boyfriends at their little race to the beach.

Because you’re here.

You’ve finally made it to California; and the sun is setting over the seemingly endless ocean, giving everything a dreamy golden glow.

You watch your boyfriends strip themselves while running, trying to get to the ocean the fastest, because of course they are.

Billy’s the first one to jump into the waves, but as usual it’s a close race.

You decide to keep your dress on for now, and by the time you make it to the shore, Billy and Steve are already completely and utterly soaked in salt water; and the fact that you’re not is absolutely outrageous to both of them.

Your two boyfriends are quick in making a straight beeline towards you, dragging you with them into the fresh and salty sea.

Billy captures your lips in a searing kiss, before being jumped by Steve, whose smile might be the brightest you’ve ever seen it.

You watch them both try to wrestle in the waves, their laughter filling the air with more warmth than the sun ever could, and you know you’re home.

Because that’s what both of these guys mean to you; they’re home.

It doesn’t matter where you are, if it’s inside the Camaro, a dusty motel room, a dull franchised diner, or the most beautiful beach you’ve ever seen; you’re home, because the three of you are together; and you hope that that’s how it will always be.

________________________

And, that's it! If you've made it this far, thank you! I hope you enjoyed reading this little story!

#billy hargrove x reader #steve harrington x reader #billy hargrove x steve harrington #billy hargrove #steve harrington #stranger things fanfiction #billy hargrove fanfiction #steve harrington fanfiction #harringrove #harringrove x reader #billy hargrove x you #steve harrington x you

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broflovski-brah · 2 months

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i think stan and kyle would like camping more than traveling to a big city or the beach. they strike me as the kind of friends that plan cross country roadtrips (kyle is in charge of route planning and most of the itinerary, stan is in charge of snacks and music playlists) jimbo and His Husband Ned let them borrow all their camping equipment so they’re set all the way up when they stop to camp and hike. bug spray is a must because kyle is prone to being eaten alive by mosquitoes. stan burns everything he tries to cook over the fire so kyle ends up doing it for him because it’s starting to piss him off. stan takes pictures of every single animal they see when hiking. and they have long talks about life sitting by the campfire and drinking beer. aww i love them they’re just little colorado boys

YES

stan’s an underpacker and kyle is an overpacker. Kyle stresses way too much about what he needs and ‘what if I don’t have enough of xyz?!’ and stan us usually just like ‘yeah i packed 1 pair of underwear i’ll be fine’. So they kinda work out. Kyle probably drives because Stan gets carsick. Stan’s the one to convince Kyle to pull over to sleep or eat. Kyle is stubborn and just wants to get to where he’s going and Stan is the one to be like middle, you can barely keep your eyes open and J can hear your stomach growling over the radio, can we PLEASE just stop?” And Kyle finally relents. Once they get there though they have the absolute best time. They just talk about life. Stan makes some joke about ‘Wow, you can’t keep a girlfriend but these mosquitoes sure like you!’ which is met with a smack upside the head from Kyle. They just didn’t beer. Stan talks to Kyle about the animals they see. Kyle keeps bringing up ‘see dude, you keep burning the damn sausages! This is why I had to pack a pound of them!’

I wish there were more eps of them being friends without having fallouts. And I wish the fandom would stop victimizing Stan and villainizing Kyle. Just let them be silly friends who do silly things in peace.

(this isn’t a ship btw. i just tagged their ship name because ship names aren’t jsut gatekeot by romance. This is platonic.)

#south park #skipper speaks #kyle broflovski #stan marsh #south park headcanons #kyle broflovski headcanons #stan marsh headcanons #sp style #style south park #style sp #south park style

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tennessoui · 6 months

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You're a wonderful writer, you deserve all the treats! 🎃🍭🍬🍫🍦🧁✨

awww thank you so much 🥹🥹

it is no longer halloween but i have a couple of trick or treat asks that i didn't get to cause my time management leaves a lot to be desired & little time to desire it lol so to spare people's dashes but to not leave anyone in the wind, i'm gonna respond to all of them in one long post :D (this one)

see beneath the cut!! you guys did great there were like almost no repeats even though there statistically probably should have been???

🍬🍬 hello thank you 🧡

i already answered a kuwsk one, so for roadtrip au....

here is a little drabble from an upcoming scene in the roadtrip au (squick tag:a/b/o):

Obi-Wan narrows his eyes in his direction. "What's wrong, Anakin?" "Nothing," he says. Shit, that came out too fast. Obi-Wan's eyes narrow further, like he agrees. "You've been acting strangely all day," the love of his life says. "You didn't even say anything when I pointed out the pancake house for breakfast. You didn't even say anything when I got a cinnamon roll at the coffee shop!" "You had two servings of vegetables yesterday," Anakin mumbles, placing both hands on the wheel and looking at the road. Maybe if he pretends this stretch of flat wasteland road in front of him is the most interesting thing in the world and requires his entire concentration, Obi-Wan will drop the subject. Obi-Wan does not seem to pick up on this. He scoffs instead, and crosses his arms. "When has that ever been enough to you? Since this entire thing started?" "Obi-Wan--" "And we've been listening to my podcast for the past two hours!And you haven't mentioned it once!" "Fine," Anakin snaps, tightening his hands and then loosening his grip with effort. "Fine, congratulations. Yeah, something's wrong. I'm working through it though, okay?" On his side of the car, Obi-Wan draws himself up, and then seemingly shrinks himself down a moment later. "Is--" his hand falls onto Anakin's arm before it drops away. "Is this...because of the other night?" Anakin's jaw clenches. Them having sex hasn't just been kept to the other night. They fucked their way through all of North Dakota and Montana over the course of the last two days. But sure, the other night. "No." "Because if it is--" the omega's voice is timid and it makes Anakin's chest hurt. "You're not wearing my clothes," Anakin blurts out. "You smell different and I hate it and I know it's stupid and weird and some Dark Ages Alpha bullshit, but you need to be wearing my shirt or I'm going to fucking lose my mind, Obi-Wan." The words draw Obi-Wan up short. Anakin cuts his eyes to the side and he can see his omega's mouth hanging slightly open. Anakin taps his tongue against the back of his teeth. Great, now he sounds like some insane micro-managing lunatic. "And I think I'm going into rut." Now he sounds like a horny micromanaging lunatic. Perfect.

👻 ahh trick or treat for the naughtiest au that deserves NO treats!! 🧡

some nasty info on the cheating au i haven't talked about like. all their flying lessons. when obi-wan and anakin start fucking (before they're in love with each other), obi-wan devises a plan to get anakin alone more often so they can fuck on the weekends and not just at their places of work lol. it involves complaining to padmé about needing to really learn how to fly now that his uh valet has retired. he can't get a new one. no, that's not an option. so does padmé know anyone who flies very well and would be down to perhaps teaching him in their free time?

and padmé is like oh i do actually! my husband anakin is a very good flier. would you like me to connect you two? he came with me to your party.

and obi-wan is like i think i remember him :> he would be...available?

and anakin is guilty but very available

so they mostly spend all their flying lessons fucking in the cock pit because obi-wan's been able to fly since he was a kid. padmé learns about this either after the very end where she finds out about their affair, OR she learns about it in the lead up to the very end where she's feeling very suspicious but she's been ignoring it for THIS long so.....

🧛‍♀️🦇

trick or treat 🧡

twilight au 🧡

a headcanon for the twilight au! obi-wan's biggest pet peeve with anakin is that he absolutely hates being guided or directed in any way. he fights just to fight and obi-wan enjoys putting him in place but it would be fucking easier if anakin didn't spend so much time arguing over like. how many vegetables he should have a day. and how much water he needs to drink. obi-wan is a licensed doctor like 36 times over for fuck's sake.

anakin's biggest pet peeve is obi-wan constantly tries to mind trick him to see if his immunity will falter or fail. anakin's like for the love of god obi-wan im not a science experiment, jesus christ--'

and obi-wan hisses (cause vampire), and obi-wan's like 'you can't tell me you didn't just want to see if that was just a vampire myth'

assholes to each other <3 for eternity <3

😈 trick or treat 👽

omg smithsonian au......you know what they do for halloween, these two fuckers?? padmé invites everyone over to her (very fancy apartment) for pumpkin carving and obi-wan and anakin are so fucking annoying. they turn into a competition about who can carve the best pumpkin. obi-wan calls anakin's first attempt (a cat face) lowbrow (obi-wan carved a jellyfish), and anakin throws pumpkin guts into obi-wan's hair (he's a ginger, no one will even be able to tell!)

it goes on and on until padmé dismisses them from her apartment because it's either that or carve into anakin and obi-wan.

after getting kicked out of pumpkin carving they accidentally go on a romantic autumnal walk. they stop at a street light and anakin picks pumpkin guts out of obi-wan's hair.

it makes them feel so many things they're not mature enough to talk about

trick or treat! 🎃😸

oh ho ho the cult au! that doesn't even have a tag! (but basically it's an au where jedi obi-wan is tasked with investigating a Force adjacent cult on the desert planet Tatooine, and it's anakin obviously who is so powerful in the force he's made a whole cult out of it and sets his sights on obi-wan as his forever partner)

here is a 3 line drabble!

The boy's head tilts, and his eyes are heavy, piercing gold. They pin Obi-Wan in place even from across the room. It is immediately completely obvious who among the people in this room has influenced the Force. Even though the boy could not be more than twenty, his entire presence radiates pure power. Obi-Wan has never felt a Force signature so aggressive, so strong. For the first time since he heard the rumors, since the Council handed him the file for this mission, Obi-Wan can believe that there is a Child of The Force on this desert planet. A demi-god, whose attention can change futures, destinies-- "Approach," the boy commands, extending a hand out over the empty space surrounding him. "Obi-Wan Kenobi."

trick or treat 👽🎃

hello hello the selkie au <3

here is a bit of background thought on the selkie au! one of the things i include in most fics/characterizations of anakin is that he's a pretty one partner for life kind of person (in that he married padmé after being obsessed with her forever in canon, and one of my favorite fanons is that his very first crush/sexual awakening was obi-wan and then he would have totally married obi-wan if obi-wan was a bit different character)

but in selkie au, anakin has a very long history of dating/trying to fall in love, which is like pretty unique in my writing!

and obi-wan probably has like only a few partners he's been head over heels with, and he falls really hard for anakin which makes their (temporary) break up so much harder for him personally

trick or treat ! 😈

and omg for the space actors au??? ok ok

so obi-wan and anakin are in a holo film where they have to be jedi which will mean very serious research

and they absolutely go to the jedi temple and fuck in like a few sacred places, but tbh so many other jedi have also fucked there so that it's no big deal......even if they get caught.....and even if the make-up department has to spend a small fortune covering up their hickies they somehow got on a "research trip"

(the holonet runs a scandalous article about which jedi broke their vows of celibacy and slept with famed actor anakin skywalker?)

(obi-wan is offended that his handiwork is not recognized)

(the jedi order has to put out a statement to say that actually there are no enforced vows of celibacy though jedi may choose to follow whichever personal vows they would like)

(and if a jedi slept with anakin skywalker, the jedi council has decided they do not want to know. or hear about it anymore. thank you.)

🎃 trick or treat 🦇

i actually got asked for lslm 3 more times after you sent this in, but you were the first to ask after lslm so congrats on beating the crowd haha

ok sooooo here's a bit of the new chapter (remember, anakin's discovered that padmé has a golden wolf's mask in her luggage, what the council's intelligence has said is what the traitor will be wearing):

Padmé's eyes are unreadable when she looks back up at him. He’s been compromised. Fucking stars. He’s been compromised within the first five minutes of his mission. The enemy—the alpha in the golden wolf’s mask—she knows he is lying, she knows who he is, and she’s dangerous. She’s dangerous, and Obi-Wan is here. Anakin can feel his shoulders straightening at the reminder. Obi-Wan is here, sharing the same air as Amidala, the woman who now knows too much. If Anakin is compromised, it will only be a few minutes before Obi-Wan is compromised as well. Obi-Wan will not be threatened on this mission. Anakin will not allow it, even if it means silencing Amidala himself. She had shown him kindness and compassion when he had been nothing but a slave. And then again when he had been nothing but a boy crying out for his master. But it seems she’s forgotten what loyalty is. Anakin can remind her. But before he can step forward into her personal space, slip control of his pheromones so that all she can smell is willing omega, tease her fingers before interlacing them with his own and pulling her out of the entrance room into a more private location—before he can take the first step towards extinguishing this threat to his alpha’s safety, someone touches Padmé’s bare shoulder.

trick or treat!! 🎃👻

a fish hook, an open eye--what a fic, thank you for sending this and therefore reminding me of it lol 🧡

hm quick head canon for this fic is....anakin actually honestly makes obi-wan a better person and sorta saves the galaxy. see, he would have stopped at nothing to take down the jedi order, but then anakin comes into his life and all his priorities sort of change.

mostly cause anakin doesn't really care about ruling the galaxy. he's very family focused (thanks, obi-wan) and he wants his family to be safe and hidden -- probably because a lot of sidious' initial teaching enforced in him that safe = hidden

and obi-wan...he doesn't actually want to give up his dreams and he would sure love to see the jedi die for no other reason than they're stingy about who gets to use the Force or whatever, but....he likes the family he has with anakin. he could be content with setting up an empire in the outer rim. he doesn't need galactic wide conquest. he's already conquered the bestest part of the galaxy (anakin)

cody is going to be sick. this is disgusting, and the thought that obi-wan and anakin actually make each other better is too awful to even consider. straight lies and deception.

🧛‍♀️🍬 trick or treat!!! 😈

oooo time traveler ahsoka au!

here is a drabble for time traveling ahsoka au during one of the re-dos (specifically, the one where obi-wan is duke of mandalore and anakin is a Jedi General married to Senator Amidala and they respect their duties at the cost of their almost love):

Even though Ahsoka had not screamed along with Anakin when she'd seen Obi-Wan's body struck by droid-fire---she could not, she had no body, just another thing to add to the long list of things she'd given up for this, for the galaxy---her throat feels raw, as if she has been sobbing for hours the way her master has been, seated slumped over in the chair next to the Duke of Mandalore's cot. Anakin is quiet now, though every so often a fresh tear will roll down his reddened cheek as he sits silently, hand clutching Obi-Wan's own. A part of Ahsoka is screaming at her to reset this scenario. Obviously, these two souls are as entangled together as their fingers currently are. But it would be cruel. Wouldn't it? To end this run now, when Obi-Wan and Anakin are so recently wounded? And they have been so reasonable up until this moment. They have been cordial, respectful---friends, brothers in arms. Obi-Wan has almost died. Surely, Anakin is allowed to mourn. Surely if Ahsoka existed in this scenario, if she were Anakin's padawan and she'd be struck down, he would sit at her bedside and cry over her sleeping form. Right? It takes three tries for the words to pass Anakin's lips, and when he does finally speak, Ahsoka can barely understand him. He has pressed his mouth to the back of Obi-Wan's hand. "Never again," he mumbles against the duke's skin. "You do not belong here, and I would--I would tear my heart out and leave it for safekeeping on Mandalore before I would watch you take on blaster fire again." Ahsoka's mouth opens, spell words meant to reset the circumstances on her tongue. It sounds like a love confession, and she knows that those such things are to be avoided. Her mind begins to race. A new scenario---this time, she will keep them apart forever---this time, they will never meet, and the galaxy will--- "When you wake," Anakin's voice derails her thoughts and holds her tongue. "I will send you back to your wife. And it will be the end. It will--it is time. To end." Ahsoka's mouth closes. The words evaporate. Her chest tightens, and though this should feel as if she's dodged a blaster shot, it feels like she's been hit.

trick or treat 🍬🧡

i gave a little drabble of the couples counseling au for the last trick or treating ask re: couples counseling au so i'm gonna give just a bit of a headcanon this time!

in couples counseling au, the jedi council absolutely knows that they're seeing a couples therapist who specializes in married partners 💙 probably a few of them think that anakin and obi-wan know that as well, but most of them are like. well. they'll figure it out right? some of it may be applicable? they're definitely better than how they were a month ago so, no harm no foul etc etc

#asks #obikin #ask haul #trick or treat ask game #roadtrip au #cheating au #couples counseling au #time traveler ahsoka au #lslm #selkie au #smithsonian au #twilight au #thank you all so much for sending these in im sorry i missed the end of the holiday!!#it was really fun !!! happy virtual halloween haha <3 #i saw someone else do this for asks and i thought it made sense

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