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clovermunson · 3 years

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author’s note: y’all thought i’d do these and not do one for my favorite speedster? ha, wrong again! it would just be wrong if i didn’t do one of these for Pietro. without further ado, i present a headcanon list of what it would be like to date everyone’s favorite silver-haired sokovian, who for personal reasons is alive and well okay? i may or may not have gotten a little carried away with this one too. as always, likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated, i just respectfully ask that you please do not repost my work and claim as your own! — xo, morgan💜

warnings: pure fluff. mentions of eating. mentions of dangerous missions. Pietro being a cheeky lil shit. talk of marriage and proposals. that’s about it really.

**for the romanian terms, a key has been included at the bottom of this list for their meanings!

dating pietro maximoff would include

everyone knows that Pietro Maximoff lives life in the fast lane

no really, the guy has no idea how to just slow the fuck down sometimes

okay so like he can be arrogant at times

but that’s just Pietro being Pietro because he does it so well

but surprisingly, he wanted to take a serious relationship with you slow and steady

he wanted to go through the entire courting process and goddamn it he wanted to do it right and absolutely perfect

PDA is at like max level though

this man craves affection from you

he’s easily jealous but in the end he revels in the fact that he’s the one who got you

he’s still using corny pickup lines like he used before you even started dating because he wants to treat you like he’s still trying to win you over

weekly friday night movie marathons, and Pietro gets excited when it’s his turn to choose the movie

he has so many sokovian and romanian nicknames for you

draga being his favorite one to use because it makes you blush so much

baking together. it’s a hobby that Pietro wanted to take up, and it almost always results in flour fights and icing being smeared on each of your faces

oh Wanda would know when you start dating Pietro

she knows just by the overly chipper demeanor that you both have

and because Pietro is literally always kissing you in front of literally everyone

he’s a very proud boyfriend, to say the least

at least three of his shirts have become yours, he doesn’t even regret letting you take them either

given his speedy and quite flighty nature at times, others wonder if he’ll leave you but he’s super quick to shut them down and reassure you

“draga, i promise you i am not going to leave you.”

and he always says it in the softest/sweetest tone

honestly it’s the most heart-melting thing

if given the chance, Pietro will swoop in and hug you from behind, resting his chin on either your head or shoulder

okay but he definitely rambles on to Wanda about how madly in love he is with you

and that’s the thing about Pietro, he feels his emotions so passionately that he gets a little ahead of himself sometimes, but he’s never been more sure of anything

you really are an anchor for him, the one person who can keep him grounded and stable— and he loves you all the more for that

OKAY BUT THE AMOUNT OF FOOD THIS MAN EATS IN A DAY— WHEW

that increased metabolism really kicks into overdrive and that’s why it’s so costly to feed him

not that you mind it though

Pietro asks Wanda to show you how to make his favorite sokovian recipes because he really can’t cook that well

when he’s on missions, to say you’re worried is a complete understatement

especially after learning about the events of Ultron and his very brave and selfless, albeit a bit impulsive and borderline foolish, almost self-sacrifice

you worry about him more than you should, but it’s only because he’s so impulsive and sometimes doesn’t think things through

the improved thermal homeostasis helps keep him warm at all times, so you’re often cuddled up to him trying to stay warm (especially in the winter)

you’re so scared to introduce him to your family, because even though he poses no real threat to hurting you, your family could be…well, very protective

but this man is so charming that he instantly wins everyone over within minutes

you’d always tend to his injuries though, even the most minor little cuts, scrapes, and bruises

“has anyone ever told you that you’d make a rather hot nurse?” Pietro slightly cocked his head, winking at you as you bandaged the gash on his arm

“shut up, Piet.” you tried to stifle a giggle, but you couldn’t hide the smile that had crept on to your lips, “sometimes you’re a handful.”

“but i’m your handful. and you love me.”

speaking of the three words

Pietro first said them after a particularly nasty mission, one where he was convinced at the beginning that not everyone would come back perfectly unharmed, but he was glad that mostly everyone came out okay despite a handful of near-death experiences

as soon as he came home, he bolted straight to you and hugged you as tight as he could

you were just happy to see him, you hadn’t even noticed all the cuts and bruises at first

“i love you, draga mea. more than anything.” Pietro’s head rested on your shoulder as he kissed the side of your neck

“i love you too, ingerul meu.” your lips met his, the two of you smiling against each other’s lips, “i’m so glad you’re home. now let’s get you cleaned up and taken care of.”

within about a year and a half of being together, you’d moved in with each other

and Pietro is surprisingly easy to live with. once the ground rules were established for the both of you, everything went smoothly

most date nights are nights at home together, just enjoying each other’s company

but when it’s a fancy date and you get all dressed up, Pietro’s jaw is on the floor

he can’t help it, you just look so radiant, like a literal angel

“take a picture Piet, it’ll last longer.” you smirk, grabbing your phone and keys from the table, tossing them to Pietro

“a simple picture wouldn’t do you justice, my love.” Pietro shakes his head, “you look ethereal.”

Pietro never forgets an anniversary

and he always plans his gifts for you months in advance

even if you tell him it doesn’t have to be extravagant, he always goes above and beyond because you’re worth it to him

honestly by the two year mark, this man was already very much sure of wanting to marry you and have children with you; he knew way before then

he gets jittery when he’s thinking of proposing

which is saying something because he never gets nervous about anything else

he just wants it to be perfect and he wants it to be memorable for the both of you so you can tell the story to your children in the future

ultimately his life goal is to just make you happy

because your happiness makes him happy

he’s very cuddly

okay but this man is such a sucker for having his hair played with

he will lay his head on your lap and just let you run your fingers through his hair for hours on end

he’s willingly vulnerable with you, which is a huge milestone for him because being experimented on by Strucker really made him a shell of himself for a while

this man gets all the kisses, hugs, and cuddles that he wants and it’s really not up for debate

but you happily give him all the love and affection he needs

before you can even finish the sentence “Piet, i’m cold.” he has already taken off his jacket and it’s around you

he promises to keep you safe from any harm, because your safety and well-being is his priority

this man is really such a dream

a literal angel

if you ever have a playful argument, he’ll just pick you up and carry you to the nearest couch or chair for cuddles because he just wants the argument to end

he’ll help out with chores around your shared apartment because he can get them done in the blink of an eye

Pietro loves to poke fun at you because he finds it adorable when you get angry and flustered at the same time

you’re both firm believers in goodbye kisses

no seriously, Pietro will not leave you without a goodbye kiss

once you jokingly forgot it and he got all cute and pouty over it

“draga, aren’t you forgetting something?” Pietro stared at you, his best pout on display

“i don’t think so…” you looked around, “you’ve got your gear on, you’re well-rested, i made you a nice home-cooked meal. i’d say you’re ready for this mission, darling.”

“ahem,” he cleared his throat, still pouting like a child who’d been told no, “what about my goodbye kiss?”

“how could i ever forget that?” you smirked, holding your arms out to Pietro as he engulfed you in a hug, pressing his lips to yours

“please never forget it again, my love.” Pietro mumbled against your lips, “your kisses are the best part of leaving for missions.”

honestly he’s just the sweetest, smoothest son of a bitch on the planet

all the plans he had to propose? yeah, out the window because he just asked on impulse one night, completely out of the blue

it was more of a general wondering at first

“is there a chance you’d still want to marry me?” he turned to you, his blue eyes sparkling in the light of the kitchen

“Piet, i’d marry you right here, right now if we could.”

and this man felt his nerves just spike instantly

because god he’d marry you on the spot too

so while you’re preparing dinner, he sneaks off to the bedroom to grab the ring from his bedside table

granted you wouldn’t have even known he was gone, the quick little bastard

he helped finish making dinner, and the whole time the two of you were eating he could feel how nervous he was— the high adrenaline, sweaty palms, everything

you kinda noticed he was more nervous than usual, but you didn’t say anything, figuring it was just him being worried about an upcoming mission

after dinner, Pietro suggested a movie night; complete with snacks, building a blanket fort in the living room, and letting you choose your favorite movie

him being so nervous because he thought he lost the ring, but when he felt it still in the pocket of his sweatpants, he was beyond relieved

“draga, can i ask you something?” Pietro finally gathered up his courage

“of course, anything.” you turned to him, your eyes holding a worried look, fearing the worst

“no no, it’s not anything bad.” Pietro chuckled, noticing your concern, “i was just wanting to ask if you want the same thing that i do?”

“i always have, my angel.” you smiled, “everything from marriage to starting a family.”

Pietro literally felt his heart start racing when you said that, this man is so in love with you

“well, i think we can definitely manage at least one of those things rather soon.” he smirked, taking your hand in his

“Piet, what are you talking ab—” before you even knew it, you were staring at the most beautiful ring you’d ever seen

“i’ve been trying to find the perfect way to ask you this, but i’ve been overthinking it.” Pietro chuckled at himself, “Y/N, my darling, will you do me the honor of making me the happiest man on the planet and marry me?”

awestricken, you looked up at him with tear-filled eyes, “a million times, yes. i was beginning to think you’d never ask, Speedy.” you giggled as he slipped the ring on your finger

“i kept holding out for the right moment, but i never realized that any time would’ve been the right moment.” Pietro smiled, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek, then one on your lips

and honestly, how could you say no to that?

the nickname Speedy hadn’t been used by you since you’d first met him, but god it still made his heart flutter, even more now

okay i should probably stop listing headcanons now

i got really carried away here oops

literally you and Pietro are the otp to end all otps, truly couple goals

ugh, y’all i miss Pietro if you can’t tell😩 brb gonna go write a Pietro fluff fic asap

key

draga = darling, honey, sweetheart

draga mea = my darling

ingerul meu = my angel

#pietro maximoff #pietro maximoff x reader #pietro maximoff fluff #dating pietro maximoff would include #pietro maximoff headcanons #headcanon list #mcu #morgan’s writings

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getitinbusan · 3 years

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The September Session

18+ Jungkook Birthday Smut

The Studio Sessions Finale

A weekend birthday getaway in Jeju with Jungkook. A smut and angst filled finale to the Studio Sessions.

Words: 9075

Warnings: 18+ smut. M/F sex, M/F-F/F oral, unprotected sex, rough sex, swearing, cheating (?) poly relationship

"I don't think you can fit anything else in there. You know you're only going for 2 days right?" Yoongi picked up a pair of your lacy underwear and went for the free throw into your bag. "If I know anything about you and Jungkook, it's that you won't even need clothes."

"Only 2 days? Are you really that unbothered by me leaving?"

"I know how to pick my battles." He undid his zipper and gave you a crooked little smile. "You'll make it up to me."

"Will I now?" It was supposed to sound teasing but your knees were already on the hardwood. Pulling his soft cock out of his jeans, you wrapped your hand around him.

"You're gonna be a good girl and drain my cock before you leave, yeah?"

You tongued his tip as he grew harder twitching in your palm.

"Every last drop." You suctioned him soft and slow not wanting to leave him unfulfilled.

"Fuck, yeah…" his eyes were closed as he pumped himself into your waiting mouth.

Wanting to take it to the bed, you pulled back, but he stopped you by catching your hair. Wrapping his hand securely around it, he held you still and picked up the pace. Granting him full access to your throat, you dropped your drool-covered hands while he used your face to get himself off.

His deep moans and breathy exhales were his tell. His balls bounced off your chin and with the last few aggressive thrusts, he shot his hot load onto your waiting tongue.

"That was good." He tucked himself away into his pants and extended his hand to help you up.

"I've gotta go." He kissed your cheek. "I've got a meeting with that new group in 20 minutes. Have fun okay."

He opened the door and he was gone. No sexual reciprocation, no I love you, just a, "have fun."

It wasn't like him and you were left trying to determine if he was giving you the cold shoulder because he was upset or even worse, if he wasn't upset about you leaving at all.

An abrupt knock on the door broke you out of your thoughts. All worries were forgotten when you opened it to find Jungkook grinning ear to ear.

"Are you ready Noona? The car's gonna be here in 10 minutes."

Grabbing your bag off the bed, he flung it over his shoulder like it was nothing.

"Wouldn't miss it for the world. Have you thought about your birthday wish?"

He pulled you in with his free hand. "You've already made it happen. I can't believe I get you all to myself for 2 days."

You pulled the door shut behind you and kissed him. "I'm all about making birthday wishes come true."

The car rolled up the tarmac where the private plane sat in wait. The red-carpeted stairs extended, greeting you like royalty.

"You booked a private flight?"

His nose scrunched in happiness at your surprise. "Nothing but the best for you." He kissed the back of your hand before leading you up the stairs.

"You know this isn't supposed to be about me right?"

"I may have some ulterior motives." He said as he clicked his seatbelt into place.

"Yeah? Is this a mile-high club mission Jungkook?"

Even though your chairs were face to face and his eyes were hidden behind his bucket hat, his smile said it all.

"Trust the plan Noona."

Shortly after takeoff, the intercom dinged. "You may proceed to move around the cabin freely."

Jungkook unfastened his seatbelt and stood to lean over your seat. Grabbing the side lever, he reclined your chair back and moved in for a passionate kiss that immediately made your toes curl in anticipation.

Humming in delight he broke away and knelt on the floor. His fingers dragged delicately up your skirt. "What am I going to find under here, how well do you know what I like?" Pulling your thighs apart he sucked air through his grinning lips. "No panties. You really do know. "

"It's easy." You felt desperate for the pleasure you knew he was capable of inflicting. "We both always want the same thing."

"And what is it we want, Noona? Hmm, tell me."He was staring, lost in the sight of his fingers toying with your sex.

Reaching out you tipped his chin until his eyes locked with yours. God, you wanted to but couldn't.

You had to stop yourself from telling him that what you really wanted was more than 48 hours. You bit your tongue to keep it from spilling the words, "I want to run away with you and never go back." So instead, you went with what was easy and what you thought he wanted to hear. "I think we want to cum at 32,000 feet."

They must have been the words he was expecting because a devilish grin appeared at your response.

"48 hours," He lifted your foot to rest it on the seat." Of nothing," he lifted the other foot. Sliding his hands behind you, he pulled your hips forward. "but pure," He dropped his head and laid a long languid lick up your cunt.

"Pleasure." You finished the sentence not wanting him to use his mouth for anything else let alone words.

His hum of agreement sent shivers of anticipation down your spine. You gazed at his face intently. He liked when you watched. Splaying you open with his fingers, your engorged pink nub stood begging him for attention. You bit your lip trying to hold your noises in, squirming as he teased it with the tip of his tongue drawing slow circles around it.

You pulled at his long hair and begged, "Stop teasing me Kookie."

His mischievous amber eyes glinted under the cabin's bright lights. "It's an hour-long flight, and I forgot my headphones. You're just going to have to be my entertainment."

You hadn't touched each other in a while, and Yoongi had been too preoccupied with work to even notice you were around. Other than giving his pre-departure blow job you'd had no action in at least a week.

You knew if you whined enough he'd give in. "I can't be patient, when my pussy knows what it's been missing, Jungkook."

"You're spoiled," he mumbled into your cunt.

You tried to sit upright, but he held your hips down and stuck 2 fingers inside you.

"I'm spoiled? The last of the sentence trailed off quickly into soft submission under the strokes of his fingertips on your g spot.

"Is that better?" He took delight in knowing you were instant jello.

"I missed you."

His fingers kept a steady pace as he kissed you. Soft, constant, his tongue lingered, his mouth catching your moans.

"I just want you to feel good. Tell me where you want my mouth."

"Please Jungkook, you know what I want."

"Say it, for me, for my birthday." He was pouting in between kisses. "I just want to know that you want me."

"I want you so fucking bad Jungkook. I want you to suck on my tits and finger me until I cum."

He was grinding his cock against the edge of your seat when the plane started shaking.

"Please fasten your seatbelts. We're going through a patch of thermal turbulence that should only last a few minutes."The voice from the cockpit didn't phase either of you.

His free hand pulled your shirt up and your bra down, exposing your hardened nipples just above the lace cups. Grabbing the seatbelt, he clicked you in and pulled the strap tight. "Safety first," he barely muttered before locking on to your breast.

The plane shook violently, heightening every sensation. His fingers and the jolting of the plane had your pussy dripping down his hand. "Jungkook." Your moans were high and you couldn't care less if anybody heard. You were almost done. Watching him rut his hips against the vibration of the seat, eyes closed, as his mouth latched greedily at your chest was sending you into overdrive. "I'm gonna cum, are you gonna cum for me, baby?"

His face screwed up in pleasure and his moan was long and drawn. Seeing him reach his height, you clenched around his fingers as they continued their assault on your sex until you too were satisfied.

"Shit," he stood up revealing the huge wet spot in his jeans. "I don't have a change of clothes in my carry-on."

Undoing your seatbelt, you leaned forward and untucked his t-shirt making sure to kiss his abs along the way. Well, thank god for baggy shirts."

You tucked the last of your clothes inside the drawer. "So what's the first thing on our birthday weekend to-do list?"

"Well, there's parasailing, scuba diving, jet-skiing…." He kept listing.

"You know we can't do it all right? You're going to have to narrow down your choices a little."

"Aish, come on Noona. I brought you because I thought you could keep up."

You stood between his legs as he sat on the bed. "Is that why you brought me, Jungkook? Because we share an affinity for water sports?"

His hands groped your ass before he pulled you down on top of him.

"Amongst other things," he giggled while tickling you. "Jimin's fun to hang out with but he never puts out."

"Oh my god, Jungkook." You rolled your eyes and stood back up. "If we're going to get even one of those things on your list done we'd better leave now." You extended your hand to help him up. "Let's go."

____________________

You were soaked. Jungkook was taking great delight in the jumps he created by running the jet ski in circles over his own wake. Hanging on to his waist tightly you were surprised he could still breathe.

"Are you okay back there?" He stopped the watercraft to check-in. Do you want me to slow down?"

"Did you hear my safe word?" You took a teasing nip at his bare wet tricep."

"Not yet but I'd really like to."

A hot blush crept up your cheeks. It wasn't like Jungkook to suggest anything wild, and it threw you off.

"Are you asking?" You could see his ears turning red and he took a minute to answer.

"You're just hanging on so tight."

You didn't want him to hold back, so you prompted the response. "And…"

"The thought of me in control and you, a little scared, kind of turns me on."

Pressing your face against the expanse of his wet skin, you wondered if he could feel your smile.

"Do you see that island?"

You pointed. "I want you to take me over there."

"Do you want me to go fast?"

"I think we both want you to go fast."

"Then you should hold on."

As he restarted the jet ski your hands made their way back around him but this time they ended up in his shorts. Sneaking past the mesh liner, your fingers gave a little tug on his thick wet pubic hair. His already semi-hard cock came to life in your hand in anticipation of the attention it was about to receive.

There were no trespassing signs posted all around the small island. "I don't know Jungkook, maybe we should just go back and fuck in the room." You said it, not because you meant it, but because he wanted to play.

He pulled the ski up onto the shore. "You can't just tease me like that and make me wait, Noona. Let's go."

He began trekking into the patch of dense greenery, and you wondered if someone actually lived here.

Stopping just under sufficient cover of vegetation, he grabbed you and pulled your bathing suit bottoms down and pushed you against a nearby tree. "You're driving me crazy in this fucking bikini." He tugged his shorts down and needing no prep thrust himself into you.

The bark was rough against your skin, your back scraping with every upward thrust he pumped into you.

"Hello!" Echoed around you. "This is private property."

"Fuck, Jungkook, let's go!"

"I'm not done." He clamped his hand over your mouth. "Shhh, stop moaning so loud or they'll find us."

"I know you're out here I saw you seadoo on the shore." The voice carried across the island getting closer.

"Wrapping your leg around him, you grabbed his hair and moaned into his sweat-beaded neck. "We're gonna get caught, Kookie."

"Let them watch. I'm not stopping until I fill your cunt."

Your back felt raw, but the pleasure and pain of an adrenaline fuck was worth it.

"Are you afraid of someone seeing us? What happened to my brave girl?"

"Are you hurt, do you need help?"

The snapping sound of a twig breaking under a footstep was close. Too close, but also just enough of a thrill to spur on a hot flood of Jungkook's cum deep inside you.

Just as you got your bottoms back up the old man appeared.

"This is private property, are you looking for something?"

"Sorry," Jungkook turned on his charms." Our intake got clogged with some debris so we pulled over to clear it." He pointed at you, "you know women and their small bladders, she always has to go. She got scared when she heard you so we didn't answer. Sorry."

The old man laughed. "I've been married 4O years I know all too well.

You were surprised at Jungkook's ability to spin a story so quickly but more impressed that he was unflappable in his determination to cum at all cost.

Apologizing to the man once again you walked back to the jet ski.

"Shit are you okay?" He ran his fingertips gently down your back.

You stood on your toes and kissed his lips. "Did you hear my safe word?"

"I did not." He grinned.

"Well, I guess you'll just have to try harder next time."

____________________

His eyes rolled and he hummed in enjoyment. "Umm it's so good, it's like a dessert orgasm."

"I can't believe you're replacing me with chocolate." You pulled a pout. "Don't waste yourself on whipped cream Jungkook, I've got bigger plans for pleasure tonight."

"As much as I want to do unspeakable things to you, I'm not ready to go back to the room." He took the last bite and leaned back in his chair, stretching, completely satisfied. "I thought we could go to this place called Factory. Yugyeom told me it was really cool."

"Sounds fun." You couldn't help but grin at how naive his thinking was.

Licking your finger, you rubbed it through the powdered sugar on his plate and popped it in your mouth. "Silly you think we need a bed for me to get you off."

"You're a crazy woman."

"Crazy for you Jungkook."

The club was dark and crowded. He blended in well. The University students, looking to let loose for the weekend, offered a camouflage of anonymity he wasn't usually afforded in public spaces.

"Whiskey?" He took your hand and led you to the bar. "It's your weekend. I'm letting you call the shots." It was too loud to hear the groan you knew accompanied the eye roll at your bad pun but you were satisfied by his smile.

"To us." He clicked your glass.

The liquor went down smooth and warm, causing welcome tingles through your body. Coupled with the wine you'd had with dinner you'd hit the perfect peak of lowered inhibitions and pure bliss.

"Your glowing Noona." He kissed your forehead.

"And why wouldn't I be Kookie? I'm in paradise with my boyfriend. Come dance with me."

You noted the look of satisfaction on his face as he led you to the floor and wrapped his arms around you tightly. Nuzzling into your neck, he swayed with you slowly to a pace that didn't match the fast music of the club. Whether it was the alcohol or the sheer intoxication of longing you couldn't be sure, but you could feel his heart thumping against you.

Stopping completely, his hands cupped your face, and he stared into your eyes.

"What's wrong, Jungkook?"

His cheeks burned hot, and he was fighting his smile from appearing too eager. "Do you think you could call me your boyfriend again?"

You nodded. "I'd really like that."

His lips found yours and time stopped around you. Abandoning all common sense, you were both picturing what your together forever could look like.

He broke away out of breath and slightly overwhelmed.

"I think I'm ready to take you back to the hotel."

____________________

Stretching out naked and satisfied beside him you glanced at the clock, 12:36 am. You turned your head back and placed a kiss on his chest. "Happy birthday Kookie."

A little drunk and a lot in love you felt secure enough to ask. "Are you happy?

He let out a giggle, and you were 100% positive that if the lights were on his dimples would look like deep canyons etched into his cheeks.

"So happy…" his soft snores gave away just how content he was with the moment.

"I love you," you whispered. Maybe he wasn't awake but it counted. A full commitment to your feelings. Eager to reaffirm your words, you drifted off knowing that tomorrow you'd make sure he knew just how happy he made you.

"Where do you think you're sneaking off to?" He grabbed your hand and pulled you back down on top of him.

"I was getting up to call room service so you could have breakfast in bed." You feigned annoyance half-heartedly to getaway.

"Food can wait." He wrapped his arms around you and started kissing your neck. "It's the first time we've spent an entire night together. I really like waking up beside you."

"So you mean you don't want to go on that five-hour hike you booked months ago because you really, really, really wanted to do it?"

Surrendering into his stronghold, you teased him. "Because I'm totally okay just hitting up the spa."

He groaned in hangover.

"Shit. I totally forgot."

"Should I go order us some coffee and food now?"

"Probably."

"Are you going to let go of me?" You squirmed under his arm.

"Hmm...5 more minutes."He giggled, throwing his leg over you.

____________________

Pulling the car up to Mt. Hallasan you both stared at the daunting task before you. "Are you sure you can handle it?" He popped the trunk and grabbed your backpack.

"Do you doubt my abilities, Jeon?"

"Normally, no." He hoisted the bag onto your shoulders. "But this knapsack weighs a ton. Seriously, what's in here?"

"Mind your business and worry about yourself, sir." Raising his hands in apologetic surrender he closed the trunk, "Alright, let's get it!"

Trying to set a steady pace the timing had to work out just right. You couldn't tell if he was getting frustrated or being chivalrous, but at least once every half-hour he asked if you wanted him to take your bag.

"Did you know they don't let anyone climb after 1:30 because they don't want people stuck after sunset?"

"Is that your way of calling me slow, Kookie?" You stopped in your tracks and starred. "I didn't know you were so afraid of breaking the rules. Do you want to turn around and go back?"

"Noona, did you wake up this morning with the intention of being a pain in my ass?"

"That's just rude," you huffed. Arguing was one way to buy some time. "I can't believe you don't even appreciate that I'm out here climbing a fricken mountain for you."

"If you're serious, I'm sorry." He walked closer to you and kissed your cheek.

"It's fine." You walked away smiling. "Now if you'll stop stalling, we can still make the summit by sunset."

He paused, flabbergasted, but decided to stay quiet and move on.

____________________

Finally reaching your destination it was perfect. Sunset from the highest peak in Jeju was in full bloom. Everyone had been moved swiftly along by the trail guides, so it was just you, Jungkook, and the stunning view from 6388 feet above the world.

"Wow, look at this, Noona. We're on top of the world." He took off his backpack and dug for his camera.

"I feel that way whenever I'm with you, mountain or not." You tapped his shoulder and handed him the present you'd been carrying."

His eyes and smile were more dazzling than the sun glinting its way over the horizon. "Is this why you wouldn't let me carry the bag? It's so heavy."

"Open it!"

Tearing the paper off, his jaw dropped. "Is this a Hasselblad?"

You nodded. "Did I do good?"

"This is unbelievable! It's one of the best cameras in the world."

"I did a lot of research."

He was still in shock. "It's too much. I can't possibly accept this."

"Don't be silly Jungkook, It's all ready to go. I had them set it up for you. I was kind of hoping you'd take some pictures for us," You suddenly felt shy. "You know, so we can look back on this and remember how great it was."

"It's unbelievable. You're unbelievable!" All trepidation at accepting the gift forgotten, he began taking pictures.

By the time he was satisfied with the scenery, he turned to focus the lens on you.

His camera crosshairs found you sitting on the ground. A blanket, a bottle of wine and a cupcake with a candle. His smile peeked out from under the camera as he snapped your picture. "All this too?"

"I wish it was more but I could only carry so much." You passed him the bottle, "I couldn't fit cups, I hope you don't mind."

He leaned in for a kiss. "It's perfect. I honestly couldn't dream of a better day. Thank you."

"So are you going to get down here and blow out this candle before it's completely melted?"

He sat on his knees and closed his eyes. Concentration crept over his features until he seemed satisfied enough to blow.

"What could the man who has everything possibly wish for?"

He smiled brightly, "Don't jinx me. You know if I tell you it won't come true."

You wanted it to be about you, and you wanted it to come true so badly that you didn't ask any more questions.

"Come sit with me." He kissed the top of your head once you were settled, secure in his arms. "I should have gotten out of bed sooner. We could have had more time up here."

"You've got a few hours." You said it nonchalantly like you hadn't had to name-drop and beg the parks department.

"They're letting us hike after dark?"

"Sort of? There's an ATV waiting at the Seongpanak shelter we're going to use to get back down the mountain."

"I get to ride an all-terrain down the mountain?"

"Yeah, I thought you'd like that part."

____________________

The air in the room was cold as you stepped from the steamed-up bathroom. "It feels so good to get that hiking dirt off. You should have joined me.

"Rubbing the towel through your wet hair, you realized you were alone.

"Jungkook?" Checking through the suite's other rooms and even opening the hall doorway, he was nowhere to be found.

Glimpsing an out-of-place white shirt on the beach you made your way out the patio doors.

"Jungkook?" If he heard you coming, he didn't turn around.

Sitting behind him in the sand, you wrapped your arms and legs around him and squeezed. "It sure is a beautiful night." Sighing he leaned back to rest his head against you.

"Are you okay?" He didn't answer. He didn't need to. You could see the shimmer of his tears in the moonlight.

"What are we doing, Noona? How do we all come out of this happy?"

You wrapped your arms around him a little tighter.

"I don't know, Kookie. It was never supposed to be like this. I was silly to think I could ever resist your charms."

"Sure blame me."

At least he was grinning from your flattery now.

You ran your fingers through his hair and smiled trying to ease the heaviness.

"Do you see that Star up there?" The waves broke on the shore in the background. "I'm confident it will always lead me in the right direction."

"Like fate?"

"Like fate." You nodded, agreeing. "I'd really like to think that the universe had a reason to bring us together."

"What do you think the reason is?" Freeing himself from your embrace, he asked the question in all seriousness.

"Happiness." You answered like you knew. "Even if we can only have it in small increments."

"I can't believe you just live your life accepting that things will turn out. Does anything scare you Noona?"

It was against your better judgment, but his vulnerability always had a way of breaking down your walls. "Me?" You laughed. Perhaps he didn't know you as well as you thought.

"I'm terrified, Jungkook."

Taking notice of the new sadness in your eyes, he took your hand and held it patiently, waiting for your words.

"One day you're going to find someone who can give you their whole heart." The sobs came out loud and uncontrollably. "Without any compromises, you're going to finally have all the happiness and love you deserve. And I'll be watching it all from the sidelines, wondering if it could have been me."

"It can always be you. But that's your choice to make."

Salty tears fell down your cheeks, and you were too emotional for any words to come out coherently.

"Shhh, it's okay, I've got you." He encompassed you in his arms. "I'm sorry. Let's just enjoy the rest of our time here together." He looked at his watch. "We've still got 11 more hours before we have to give up the fantasy. Let's not think about the real world right now."

Raw, emotional and completely vulnerable. Everything you wanted in a man was right before you.

You sniffed feeling relieved the conversation, at least for now, was over. "11 hours huh? We can have sex at least 5 more times."

He stared with a look that almost bordered on pity. "You know I didn't ask you here just so we could have sex. I'm perfectly happy just getting to spend time with you."

"It's all I know, Jungkook. I don't know how to show people I love them without it." It was a sad truth. "Besides, you're really good at it."

A half-hearted smile graced his lips.

"Can we make an agreement?" He stood and reached to help you up.

"What's that?" You kissed him.

"What if instead of 5 times we just do it once. But properly."

Walking up the shore back to the room you kept stealing glances. His long dark curls and sun-bronzed skin shone in the moonlight accentuating his ethereal beauty. Your heart was happy and broken at the same time.

____________________

Laying naked in bed your heart was racing. You'd never felt nervous with Jungkook before, but this seemed different.

Something about your conversation on the beach had you playing the lyrics to "if I'd known it was the last time" through your head.

The sound of the shower shutting off struck a chord of permanence you weren't ready to face and a tear rolled off your cheek onto the pillow. Quickly wiping it away you didn't want your worry to ruin the last night you had together.

The bathroom door opened and Jungkook came out in a cloud of steam. Towel wrapped around his waist, the water droplets still clinging onto his chest made him look even more beautiful than you thought possible.

He smiled when he noticed your gaze and swiftly moved to untuck the small corner of terry cloth that secured his covering.

His lips were parted and his breath was heavy as he stood before you completely bare. His cock wasn't hard, and his display didn't even seem sexual. It was as if he was showing you his soul and you felt guilty not reciprocating his vulnerability.

Pulling the sheets back you swung your legs off the bed and walked over to where he stood. Face to face you pressed yourself against him, feeling his warmth radiate through you.

"I love you." He whispered.

Kissing down his chest you took your time letting your lips linger over every firm muscle. Licking hot wet stripes over his hardened nipples, his body shivered, goosebumps rising on his skin.

Not a word was spoken, you didn't need them. Everything was being said in a physical language that only the both of you were fluent in.

Your nose skimmed down the soft hairs that pathed his lower abdomen, his cock growing firmer the closer your mouth got to it.

Dropping to your knees, you took him in your hand stroking him reverently. Gorgeous and thick the freshly washed skin of his cock smelt like strawberries and you couldn't resist him a second longer.

Wrapping your lips around him, you sucked soft and slow. God how you wanted this to last all night.

"Noona." Your name slid softly out of his mouth while you suckled his length.

Lingering a bit longer, you wanted to remember how he looked right now. So full of pleasure, the kind only you'd ever given him. You hoped he'd never forget how good you were together.

When you stopped, he looked down and stroked your cheek. You could see in the deep brown sadness behind his eyes that he too was trying to harvest as many memories of the moment as he could.

He held his hand out to help you up and pulled you back in close to him. Tilting his head and displaying a sympathetic smile he didn't break eye contact as he danced with you towards the bed.

Despite the heavy air you couldn't help but giggle as he twirled you, lying you back onto the crisp white hotel sheets. Standing at the edge of the bed his large hands travelled down your thighs and spread them apart. It was his turn to take station on the floor. Starting at the inside of your knee he alternated kisses back and forth giving each leg equal attention until his mouth reached your needy mound.

As much as you wanted to watch, your eyes involuntarily clamped shut in pleasure as his tongue explored you.

A master with his mouth, he knew all of your hot spots. Circling your clit and teasing it to swollen attention he'd switch to slow methodical sucks, lips wrapped around your pink bud giving it head until you squirmed. As soon as you were close, he stiffened his tongue and fucked you with it, darting in and out and in.

As your legs started to shake at the onset of orgasm, a sign that he knew all too well, he revoked his mouth. Climbing on the bed he helped you pull your legs up and lay beside you. His hands travelled over your body slowly committing every one of your curves to his memory. His fingertips on your skin sent white lightening to your brain and his mouth latching onto your nipple made your insides roll like thunder.

"Jungkook…"

"Shhh.." He placed his mouth on yours and your heart panged at how much you missed his lips when they weren't attached to yours. As skilled as he was at everything else tongue-related, you wouldn't trade his kisses for any other sexual act in his repertoire.

Pausing his kiss, he locked his eyes with yours. A silent "are you ready?" passed between you.

With a simple nod, you pulled him back to you. His body moving from beside you to on top of you had your head reeling. The longing for satisfaction was fighting with your desire to drag this on all night.

You surrendered. You needed to stop thinking and to let yourself go to what you knew would be your last time.

Tipping your chin he once again connected to your longing lips while his hands slowly travelled down your thigh. Raising your leg and hooking it over his arm he created the perfect angle for entrance.

Pushing slowly, his girthy length slid into your sex and he paused.

Eyes closed, time stood still. The heavy anticipation hung in the air like a storm cloud.

He kissed you. Kissed you like it was the first time, the last time. His lips not once leaving yours as he softly made love to you.

You couldn't cum and you didn't care. The connection you were feeling with him right now was better than any orgasm.

You knew he was close and your heart was breaking at the realization that this was it. You didn't want him to think he hadn't satisfied you because he had. He had in so many more ways than you ever thought possible. Moaning in unison you cried out one last time as he filled you with a future that wasn't meant for you.

The kisses lingered until the activities of your long day finally defeated his longing to stay awake. His chest rose and fell with what you wished was a peaceful sleep.

Laying tucked under his arm, your cheek rested just over his heartbeat. "I love you too."

You'd both been awake a while but you lay in silence trying to absorb whatever last remnants of the weekend you could. Someone had to speak first, so you took the hit.

"We should probably get out of bed. Our flight leaves in 2 hours."

His fingers intertwined with yours and he lifted your hand to his lips.

"You were wrong on the plane, you know." He sighed and placed a small kiss on your knuckles. "When you said we always want the same thing."

You wiggled out of his embrace and propped yourself on an elbow to interrupt him. "Don't we? I thought we had a really good time this weekend."

"I did, but," he looked like he might cry. "You're lying there thinking about going home, and I'm running schemes through my head about how I can find a way for us to stay."

"Jungkook," you collapsed back into his side. "You know that's not how this works." A tear slipped from your eye and you hoped he wouldn't notice it. "We've had a good couple of days, let's not ruin it with what if's."

"All I have are what if's Noona.

I don't understand why you won't choose me."

You'd never seen him this upset before.

"Yoongi Hyung, he doesn't deserve you. If you were mine, I'd never share you. You'd get everything you needed from me, and you wouldn't have to go anywhere else to find it."

"It's not that simple, Jungkook."

"Well, it seems pretty simple to me. The only reason I can think of is that you don't really love me the way I love you."

Pulling away from him, you tucked your knees into your chest and wrapped your arms around yourself. His words made you feel like a small piece of nothing.

"Please don't ever believe that...I couldn't stand the thought of you not knowing how much I fucking love you."

He didn't move to comfort you, and you could tell this conversation wasn't going to steer easily. He was building a wall around his heart and you could feel it getting further away from you with every passing minute.

"Have you ever thought about what would actually happen if I left Yoongi for you?"

"Yeah, every damn day. We'd be happy, he'd get over it," He snapped defensively.

I'm not talking about you and me, Jungkook. I'm talking about you and him. Do you ever think about that? I can already see that this is fracturing your relationship with him."

He dropped his head in realization, still not looking you in the eye.

"Why are you doing this now?" Crying uncontrollably the words barely got out. "Why can't we just keep going on like this? I thought we were happy? I thought we were in love?"

His breath was shaky,

"I brought you here because I had to see. I pulled out all the stops to woo you and it still wasn't enough."

"So on the plane when you said, "trust the plan" you knew that it was going to end in an ultimatum? That even If I didn't choose you at least you'd get fucked a few more times?"

He stood his ground, face stoic until he finally looked at your tear-stained cheeks. His jaw relaxed and his sadness finally revealed itself.

"I can't be second place. Not with something that matters so much to me. Not with you."

He got out of bed and headed to the shower. "We'd better hurry up. Like you said, we don't want to miss our flight."

Other than formalities the next few hours were mostly empty.

Standing, waiting for your bags, Jungkook finally broke his silence.

"I sent Yoongi a message asking him to come get you. I think I'm gonna spend some time at my condo for a bit."

Perching the Sunglasses that disguised your swollen eyes on the top of your head, you gave it one last try. "I Love you Jungkook. Please don't do this…"

"We both know I'm not enough. What do you want from me?"

You were hyperventilating.

"I don't want to lose you."

He kissed your cheek in a way that seemed like it might be a real goodbye. "We both know there's only one way that can happen."

Grabbing the handle of his suitcase, he turned back a final time. "I had a really great birthday. I guess I'll see you around."

Making your way to the second Suburban in the pickup line, you stood and watched as Jungkook pulled away in the first. How were you going to hide how sad you were from Yoongi?

The driver came around and opened your door to expose the emptiness of the huge van.

"Where's Yoongi?"

"Sorry, we only received an airport pick-up call, ma'am. Will you be going back to the HYBE building today?"

"No, thanks. I don't think that I will."

____________________

Y/N: Hey

MIN: Hey! Sorry I couldn't come to meet you. So much work.

MIN: I hope you had a good time. MIN: Come down to the studio when you get back.

Y/N: I was thinking it would be nice for us to spend some alone time at the condo.

Y/N: Could you come after work? Take a few days off?

MIN: I can't just pick up and leave right now, but I'll see what I can do.

His lack of effort was really beginning to hurt.

Y/N: Whenever you can, I guess.

The blackout curtains were betraying you. The opening between the panels was just wide enough for a ray of sunlight to hit you directly in the face.

You yawned, "Yoon, I think we need to move to an underground bunker." Rolling over you were reminded by the cool smooth sheets that even though the condo was 10 minutes away from work he couldn't be bothered to come home yet again.

You reached for your phone. No messages.

Y/N: Hey babe, where are you? I haven't seen you for days.

The floor was cold as you made your way barefoot across the kitchen to start the coffee.

Still no response. Your stomach felt uneasy, he'd usually at least text. Picking up the phone you dialled.

"Hello?" His voice was raspy like he'd just woken up.

"Hey, I'm a little confused why I'm the only one here." You tried to keep your tone light, despite your aggravation.

"I'm sorry. I was heading out last night and PDog asked for help. He's trying to write for the new girl group and the lead's vocal style isn't meshing with his flow. I sat in on their session to see if I could help."

"Yoongi, are you ever going to take a break?"

"This is why I didn't text you. I don't need a lecture about it. They have a debut date and shit needs to get finished."

He sounded aggravated and if you had to guess he was most likely pushing his hair back, an anxious habit he had recently developed.

"I wish you'd work on us as much as you worked on your music."

"I thought you'd be thrilled that I'm busy. Where are your other boyfriends?"

You were crying again. "You're right Yoongi. I'd have to be absolutely stupid to want to spend any quality time alone with you."

"Fuck, Y/N. I'm sorry. I'm tired, okay?"You could hear him cover his phone but managed to make out a mumbled "I'll meet you downstairs." There was a pause and a door clicking shut. "When I'm done, I'll drive over and we'll spend the rest of the week together OK? I love you."

"You frustrate me to no end, Min Yoongi." You sighed at your own inability to stay angry with him. "I love you too."

____________________

Tired of opening one app after another, you tossed your phone on the couch beside you. You could sit here all day waiting for Yoongi, who probably wasn't going to show up anyway, or you could just head back to the dorms.

Even if he did manage to get away, his mind would still be on work. He'd just be trading one studio for another, and you knew he preferred the new HYBE equipment. At least there you could hang out with whoever was still around.

You were sure Jungkook would be at home. Joon was art hopping in Seoul, and Jin was in Uncle mode helping his brother settle in for their soon-to-be new baby. Everyone else would most likely be hanging around the offices.

Y/N: I'm incredibly bored, Jimin. I'm coming to visit.

Chim: Ohhhh, I'll play with you! I've got a new toy I think you might like.

Y/N: Intrigued 🤔

Chim: I'll be in the lounge. See you in ½ an hour?

Slinging the heavy duffle bag of things, you needed to return to Jungkook over your shoulder, you waited for the elevator. Just as it pinged Jimin came bouncing up the hall.

"What are you doing? Where are you going? I told you I have a surprise!"

"Can I just bring this stuff upstairs first?"

Breaking out the dimples and a cute head tilt he stared with puppy eyes until you agreed to follow.

You hurled the bag into his arms. "Fine but this better be good."

Pushing open the door he raised his eyebrows and grinned. "Ladies first!"

Stepping into the room, you were sure your jaw was almost on the floor. You pushed him backwards and slammed it shut behind you.

"Jimin what the fuck? There's a naked girl in there!"

He frowned at your unexpected reaction. "You don't like your present?"

"I really don't know what's going through your head. Who is she? You know you can't just do this with strangers."

"NDA's!! She's one of the new trainees, if she talks she'll get fired."

You scoffed at him. "No abuse of power there. This is a real dick move, Jimin."

"Well, it's not just me."

Your heart dropped into your stomach. "Who else?"

You watched his Adam's apple bulge in his throat with a hard swallow. He was clearly choosing his words carefully.

"Hobi"

"and?"

"Taehyung and I have already…" His words trailed off

"and?"

"That's it. I swear."

"Not Jungkook?" The thought turned your stomach.

Jimin rolled his eyes "You're kidding right? Jungkook is too whipped for you to even look at anyone else."

You sighed in relief but began to internally ponder why your first reaction was to ask about Jungkook and not Yoongi.

"I just…I don't understand why you'd think this is okay."

"You do crazy stuff with all of us all the time. I thought you'd be impressed."

Plopping onto the bench in the hallway, you were really taken aback.

"Jimin, I thought we were all in this together. A poly relationship doesn't include bringing in strangers. All of you sleeping with her is exposing me without my consent. I'd never do that to any of you."

He sighed like you had missed the point. "This is me asking for your consent. Yoongi thought you’d be down for it and that…"

"That what?" Your jaw was clenched. "You're my best fucking friend, Jimin, you'd better not lie to me."

He stammered in defeat. "That if I could get you and her together it would be easier to have her join in whenever with whoever."

"So Yoongi orchestrated this? Like this is an actual fucking conversation that took place between you?"

He knew he was fucked.

"Please don't tell him you know."

"Oh, I'm not gonna tell him anything."

Anger, blinding rage? Whatever it was motivating you, you pushed open the door and smiled. "Let's do this then."

Standing up she walked towards where you stood. Jimin, clearly surprised by the turn of events, was already hard and smiling while palming himself over his pants.

"What took so long? Jimin said you were always down to fuck." She was bold; it felt as If she was challenging you.

"Just trying to make sure you were screened. Dime a dozen groupie girls like you come riddled with diseases these days."

Grabbing her face tightly in your hand you kissed her hard before directing her backwards. "I'm the one in charge here. This is my game. If you want to play with the big kids, you'd better get back to the couch so I can see if that tongue is good for anything other than talking shit."

She smiled and lay back as Jimin undid his pants. Grinning like a high-school kid having sex for the first time, he stood stroking his cock while you pulled up your skirt and straddled her face.

He walked closer to you waving his dick at your mouth like he was on a fishing expedition.

"I don't think so. If I'm disposable, so are you."

"Can I at least fuck her then?"

You made him wait a bit before you answered. Making sure to play up your pleasure you threw your head back and closed your eyes while moaning. "You know Jimin, I think you made a mistake. I don't know if I'll need any of you if I can have this whenever I want it."

It was a lie. You were so angry you couldn't think straight let alone feel pleasure right now but you wanted it to sting.

You felt her smile slide over your wet pussy and she stuck her tongue in deep for good measure. It pissed you off that she thought she was winning you over.

"Go ahead Jimin, use her."

Excited that his plan was finally working, his demeanour changed back to how he'd met you at the door.

She spread her legs wide for him while he knelt between them on the couch.

"Stop! Where's the condom Jimin?" You scolded him. "You can't just raw dog a rando."

She laughed, and it made your blood boil. "Yoongi never mentioned how controlling you are. No wonder he wants to add me into the mix."

You froze, staring at Jimin. You were livid and couldn't believe any of them would want to have anything to do with her.

Getting up you calmly smoothed your dress back down your legs.

"Oh shit. You didn't know? I figured you pieced it together when you called this morning as I was leaving." She smiled coyly. "Sorry he hasn't been making it home the last few nights."

You thought back to your conversation this morning. He said, "I'll meet you downstairs." The dorms were on the upper levels, the studios on the lower.

You wanted to smack the smug look off of her face but instead walked out slamming the door.

Wiping tears away frantically, the facial recognition on the elevator wasn't processing you through your turmoil. The doors slid open and you ducked inside just as Jimin ran out to stop you.

Standing behind the closed doors you had to decide, Confront or hide? Your finger hovered, shaking as you pressed, Floor 12.

Running quickly you punched the memorized code into the keypad. Turning the handle you slid inside hoping to god that Jungkook wouldn't be there.

Resting your head on the door, you could barely breathe. What were you going to do?

Taking a deep breath you inhaled the comforting scent of Jungkook that permeated the walls of his Golden Closet Studio. You felt so stupid, you'd ruined everything with him and for what?

The knock startled you and you almost gasped revealing your hiding spot. You could hear them in the hall outside.

"She knows he's not here; she probably went back to the condo to get her things."

"I can't believe how badly you fucked this up, Jimin."

Jimin must have alerted Yoongi to the issue. The two men were now seemingly combing the building trying to find you.

"Me? I'm not the one who cheated, don't blame me."

Yoongi's voice was calm instead of sad. Damage control mode, you'd heard it before. It made you question if he was as worried about losing you as he was with protecting his career and the company from this scandal. "I didn't cheat. We only talked about it."

"I don't think Y/N sees that as any different Hyung."

"This is so bad." Hitting what was presumably his head against the door, the thud echoed around the room. "You'd better get your ass into Hitman Bangs office right now and explain to him why his latest girl group suddenly needs a new lead. We can't keep her around if she's going to act so indiscreetly."

"You have to fix this Yoongi. You know how much we all need Noona."

You heard the ding of the elevator and presumed they had both moved on but the quiet was broken when your phone vibrated, shaking the contents of your purse. Seconds later Yoongi's voice cut through the silence, he was leaving you a voicemail.

"I know you're angry. You have every right to be. Can we just talk about it? Give me a chance to explain myself. Tell me where you are, and we'll figure this out okay?"

You'd have to face him sooner or later, so you opened the door.

"Hey."

He looked relieved. "Hey. Can I come in?"

You nodded and held the door wide for him to enter.

"Jungkook's not here?"

You chewed your lip trying to stop yourself from having a complete breakdown. "No, he doesn't want to have anything to do with me anymore. I made it pretty clear that I would always choose you and he didn't take that so well."

"Fuck. I'm such an asshole. I had no idea." He couldn't look you in the eye, so he turned away. "How the hell did it come to this Y/N?"

You wanted to be mad, but you couldn't, you knew you were both to blame. Pressing your face into his back your tears left wet marks on his t-shirt. "I think we both know the answer to that."

"I should have let you go. I knew you were happier with him, but my pride didn't want to lose you like that."

"Yoongi, it's not all your fault."

"It is, though. The minute I felt relieved that I didn't have to put as much effort into our relationship anymore is the minute we should have had this conversation."

He turned to face you and wrapped his arms around you.

"I love you, and I need you to know that I didn't cheat on you. I thought about it but only because I was upset that you were with Jungkook."

You tried to interrupt, to defend yourself but he continued.

"I'm not blaming either of you. You two belong together."

You were frustrated that he couldn't have come to this conclusion sooner. "Well unfortunately, it's too late for that. He fucking hates me now."

The keypad beeped, and Jungkook, looking worn and sad, walked in apparently having overheard your last statement.

"I could never hate you Noona."

Your heart flipped in your chest. You didn't think you'd ever get to see him again.

"I owe you an apology Jungkook. I should have stepped aside when I saw how much you loved her."

Putting his hand on Jungkook's shoulder, Yoongi turned and gave you one last smile. "She needs you, go and take care of your girl."

Closing the door behind him, Yoongi took his leave.

"I'm sorry I came up here. I didn't know where else to go." You brushed the tears that had begun falling away with your fingertips. "I'll go."

He grabbed your hand, so you couldn't walk out. "No! There's no way I'm letting you go this time. I've been miserable the last few days without you."

It was his turn to cry. "Jimin sent me a message and said they needed help finding you. I got so scared that id never see you again."

He pulled you into his arms and kept placing small kisses on top of your head while apologies streamed from his lips.

"I'm so sorry. I swear I never had any intention of ending things when we went to Jeju. I didn't want to give you up but everything you said made sense and I didn't want to hurt Yoongi either."

"I love you so much Jungkook." Your body shook while you sobbed in his arms. "I'm so fucking sorry if I hurt you."

Picking you up in a bear hug he walked you to the couch. "I missed you so much, can we just lay here together for a while? I just want to hold you"

"I don't think we should, actually."

He pulled back, a puzzled look across his face.

"I'm so tired of dorm rooms and studios, Jungkook. I think it's time we try out something more permanent, you know? Just us. Like home?"

The sparkle in his eyes returned. "Like our home, because you're mine now?"

Your heart was full. You didn't need or want anything or anyone else.

"I'm all yours."

#jungkook #jungkook smut #bts smut #jeonjungkook #bts #kookie #nochu #studio sessions

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lost-inthedream · 3 years

Text

SF9 when they are in the mood but you are busy in the kitchen

NSFW alert

Drabbles right under the cut. Have fun!

➹ Youngbin:

Our leader is not the type to interrupt you often, but these special behaviors manifest from time to time. Has your boyfriend just slapped your butt out of nowhere? It means this and this only: he wants you so badly. Whether you are going to abandon your task or not, it is up to you, but the man stands quiet and close to you, his mischievous smile cannot be dirtier.

“What do you want?” you can ask just to be sure.

“You already know, beautiful.”

Once you take your hands off the dishes, he hooks you by the waist, the water still dripping from your hands as you both lean on your sides to the sink. His leg intrudes between yours and the closeness makes you aware of his hard-on. You simply grab his neck with cold wet hands, a minimal thermal shock on his warm skin. “Am I disturbing you?” he asks cynically with his hands making their way down your body.

The two of you start making out standing in the kitchen, but once you cannot keep inside your clothes anymore, you run to the bedroom.

➹Inseong:

This one arrives with a bear hug that almost fools you as an innocent approach. The move is not enough to stop your activity, even though his arms are crossing your front and consequently limiting your movements. When he is the needy one out of you two, his cheap chatting disappears. Inseong rather observes you silently, the way you shape the cookies with a form and arrange them on a large board. Until he cannot take it anymore and kisses the area right under your ear, the click of his lips sounds sweet at first, but he whispers a straight “I want you”

“Can I finish it?” you say just to tease.

He purrs a bit bitter and uncrosses his hands from your upper arms to your chest. "Finish if you can".

He takes his time grinding on your back as your neck is abused. You make out a little more, maybe sitting on a chair, but you will not finish in the kitchen.

➹Jaeyoon:

He often grins at you when he is in the mood. The passionate smile that he shows you after a long day makes him a hundred times sexier.

“Are you coming to help me or?” you do not finish your question. It was not necessary.

“The second option.” He answers and extends his arms in your direction, so he can separate your hand from the knife you make use. He leads your hands on his body and induces you to hold his member through his pants, so your appetite increases to match his.

Probably wants you sitting on the table with him between your legs. This dude does not mind getting fully naked beside the vegetables you were intent on chopping earlier.

➹Dawon:

Okay, he is extremely likely to come back from the gym in the mood for it. We know that Sanghyuk has been enjoying himself and feeling very proud of his body. Exercising gets him wanting to thrust into you as you say he is hot, that he is the best man you have ever had.

At the moment he sees you working so diligently in the kitchen, he apologizes beforehand, and then starts sucking on your neck.

“Don’t say no, sweetheart.”

His fingertips reach your scalp as he holds your head, tilting it to the side. He definitely is going to leave marks on your skin. You both end up removing your clothes while your lips fight taking turns at sucking random parts of your bodies.

➹Rowoon:

If you’ve read my Sf9 eating you out post, you know that I’m hype to give more thoughts on Rowoon with his girl in the kitchen.

Rowoon is the type to look for exposed parts of your body to toy with even when he is cool. But when he gets aroused his touches get a bit demanding. In any case, this man is conscious enough to ask whether you are okay with his hands cupping your breasts from under your shirt.

You can struggle to keep working since he obviously will not be satisfied at only touching you with his hands.

His tongue wets your shoulder, he makes a short path with it before whining at you for not giving him enough attention when he could simply drag you away from that household duty.“Can I touch you down here?” he suddenly asks with his large hand ready to glide your pants zipper down.

He draws you to give up and let him do whatever he feels like. Expect tons of oral, at least two orgasms and both of you rushing to the bedroom when he cannot wait any longer to be inside you.

➹Zuho:

I honestly cannot see him beating on the bush to get you away from the kitchen.

“Pretty girl, You know I can gladly do everything for you after a quickie.”

You cannot help a deep and noisy sigh, since you know the sex he is referring to as a quickie is going to last quite a lot. You know how wasted you’re going to feel when he finally decides that it was worthy. Even so, you look right into his vampire-like eyes and nod. Yes, he mesmerized you.

He connects your mouth to his in a harsh kiss, pressing your noses together until he pulls back all of a sudden “You won’t regret it, honey.”

➹Yoo Taeyang:

Taeyang asks what you are doing although it is way obvious. “And are you gonna take much to finish it?”

If your answer is positive, he gets so bitter. Probably makes a grimace without noticing, which makes you worried. “Do you wanna talk, Taeyangie? Are you okay?”

He stares at you, then looks away at your hands clearly having an inner debate. He finally reaches you to fiddle with your blouse strap and answers “I don’t need to talk, but I won’t be fine if you don’t come with me to the bedroom.” As he finishes his explanation, his frontal teeth sink in his bottom lip, making him irresistible.

You start to grind to one another right away, trying to find some ground on the wall or maybe against the refrigerator. You might take some clothes off but the climax is gonna take place in the bedroom.

➹Hwiyoung:

His entrance into the kitchen is slightly hurried, but once he sees you are preparing something complex to eat, he slows down and ponders. You are still clueless and he can just give you a fake excuse. He almost ignores his nasty thoughts, but steps back.

“Princess, I really appreciate your cook skills, but I don’t want you to cook right now.”

You furrow your eyebrows and look at him with a confused expression.

“I’m so sorry, I really feel like fucking”

Your previous concern fades away into excitement as he walks closer, Youngkyun has just gathered assertiveness to take the fouet that you held and make you grab him instead. “Let’s do something together before I help you with this recipe” he suggests in a throaty tone, drawing your attention to his lips.

He sits in a chair pulling you on top of him and you ride him right there. his hips buck up a few times but he loves having you imposing your own pace on a chair.

➹Chani:

He starts trying to convince you to give up on cooking “Why don’t we order food?”

“Again?” you ask without even look at him “I miss my own seasoning. Don’t you?”

He might press the space between his eyebrows in disbelief, then ends up spilling the truth.

“I miss another thing from you.”

If you were in fact giving him attention, you would notice his dark eyes almost stripping you off. He figures out the need to making a list to convince you.“Okay, baby, I miss your naked body on mine, I miss your hands on my chest when you ride me, I miss your lips around my…”

“My gosh, Chani. Ask me to fuck already.”

He shrugs and pushes you against the wall, his hands settle spread wrapping on both sides of your neck. You see him angling his head to capture your lips, then you do not see anything else. He is extremely likely to slide his member into you standing right there.

#sf9 scenarios #sf9 imagines #sf9 smut #sf9 reactions

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12tardis · 4 years

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My Funny Valentine (Newt Scamander x Reader)

Warnings: none Requested: Yes! Lovely anon asked for ‘some funny moments with Newt and reader? Like those moments that make you laugh but at the same time you say ‘oh God I love him’ and vice versa...” I really hope you like it! Like I said I have a weird/dry sense of humour so I’m super unsure about this one!

Pairing: Newt Scamander x Reader Summary: A collection of short moments wherein Newt makes the reader laugh and vice versa. Includes colour blind Newt, exasperated Theseus, a misshap with some Billywigs and a lousy take on the Erumpent dance. A/N: I read somewhere once that Eddie is colour blind and I really have the NERVE to post this wearing bright purple thermal stockings, tan uggs and a green and blue flannel?? Thank you anon for requesting this I seriously hope its okay! Guys I dunno what I’m doing my brain broke . Thank you to everyone that reads my stuff , you make my day x Words: 3,324

Newt was one of the few people that could make you laugh, a proper full-bellied laugh no matter what mood you were in. And little did you know that he’d made it a personal goal to make you smile at least once everyday ever since your days at Hogwarts. He would usually achieve this by doing or saying sweet things to you but occasionally he’d do something so outrageously ridiculous or dorky that you couldn’t help but laugh.

Usually he would feel insecure and flustered when people would laugh at him but with you he didn’t mind. You would never mean anything out of animosity. In fact he only felt pride that he, Newton Scamander could draw such a beautiful musical sound from you.

It was a little known fact that Newt was colour blind and you were one of the only people to know about this fact because it rarely came up. There’d been a few questionable wardrobe choices over the years as a result but for the most part no one ever suspected a thing because he tended to wear the same staple outfits day in and day out and you were always there to fix him up if he was ever dressed too outrageously.

You were only fairly recently an official couple when you found yourself waiting for Newt at the bottom of the stairs in your shared apartment. Standing with his older brother Theseus and chatting away as you were all about to head off to one of Newt’s book signings where many more of his friends and family would be. Of course, Newt was the last one to get ready though, having gotten carried away in his case while you had busied yourself getting all dolled up.

“By Merlin’s beard”, Theseus suddenly breathed out, looking up the stairs at his brother who was rushing down towards you, wearing at least 4 different colours and 5 different prints. You didn’t even recognise half of the ensemble he was wearing.

Theseus quickly looked away from his brother and down at his watch, trying to hold it together but you didn’t even attempt to hold back your laughter as you slapped a hand over your mouth, gaping at your boyfriend.

“Newt, did you let the creatures dress you?”, you gasped, gripping him by the shoulders as it was Theseus’ turn to gape at you.

Newt blinked back at you and then glanced down at his own outfit before looking back at you “I-I thought you liked this shirt!”, he huffed as you openly started to laugh now.

“Goodness Newt I do! I love this shirt. But not with that green paisley waist coat. Not with the purple tie,” you breathed out, gripping his shoulders harder as you couldn’t control your giggles any longer. You cupped his cheeks as you looked him over, shaking your head “I love this shirt and I love you and you look utterly adorable but I’m just not sure this is the look you were going for.”

And Theseus looked on in bemusement when Newt just gazed back at you with bright eyes and a smile of his own, taking you in properly in your own gorgeous gown and perfectly done hair and make up.

Newt only held you closer as he smiled back at you, beginning to laugh too because your laughter was infectious. “I thought you were going to wear your blue three piece”, you eventually managed to say to which Newt shook his head with a frown “I can’t find it anywhere!”

You rolled your eyes fondly in response before you jogged up the stairs to fetch the outfit, leaving Newt gazing after you. He yelped when Theseus slapped him in the chest, staring at him incredulously “what the hell was that?!”

Newt looked back at his brother with his eyebrows drawn together, holding his hands up “what was what?”

“That!” Theseus huffed, gesturing in the direction you had gone “I laughed at you for the very same reason once and you didn’t talk to me for a full weekend but she does and you stare at her like she hung the moon and the stars!”

Newt pursed his lips together for a moment as he looked back at his brother “Right, well for one - you were being a jerk that day. Two, it’s not the same at all because you’re not her, I mean did you not see how she lights up? And three, as far as I’m aware-“ he paused as he fixed Theseus with a deadpan expression “she did hang the stars and the moon.”

Newt grinned back at his brother obnoxiously causing Theseus to groan in frustration. “Gross!” he said as he threw his arms up in exasperation before he stomped out of the apartment to wait outside, just as you came back down the stairs thrusting the suit bag into Newt’s hands.

Newt grasped the bag in one hand and pulled you close against him with the other now that the two of you were alone. He pressed a long kiss to your lips, humming as he pulled back “hmm, how do I know this isn’t just a ploy to get me undressed my darling girl?”, he murmured as he squeezed your hip, causing your cheeks to warm in response.

“Newt! Go and get dressed we’re already late!”, Theseus shouted, banging on the front door.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“My god, I swear he does stupid things just to make her laugh”, Jacob murmured in disbelief as he shook his head to himself , watching you bent over, clutching your stomach as you cackled with laughter while Newt smiled back at you over his shoulder.

Theseus nodded furiously, looking over at Jacob “YES! Thank you! I’ve been saying this for years! This one time for an event I swear he purposely dressed like a muggle clown just to amuse her.”

“Yeah jeeze”, Jacob nodded, slightly distracted as Theseus continued to recount all the times he’d witnessed Newt doing something dumb to woo you. He barely registered a word, too preoccupied watching Newt continue to dance around in the snow looking like an absolute buffoon.

He was apparently performing a mating dance to try and lure the escaped Erumpent back into his case while Y/N was too busy laughing in the distance to help him lure the creature with the vial of musk in her hand.

Newt picked up on your giggles in the background, smiling slightly to himself as he continued to wiggle his ass in the direction of the Erumpent, eventually looking back at where you were almost wheezing with your laughter “Come on Y/N! A little help here!” he called, and you quickly pulled yourself together when you saw the Erumpent begin to huff in Newt’s direction.

Newt ran towards you and the case when you finally pried the lid from the vial, narrowly avoiding being gored by the Erumpent as he skidded to a halt in front of you. You quickly snapped case shut and shouted when Newt slammed into you, knocking you both back into the snow, the two of you collapsing into a fit of giggles a moment later.

Jacob rushed towards the pair of you to make sure you were okay, Theseus hot on his heels as he continued his story of something embarrassing Newt had done in school. He let out a sigh of relief when he saw the you both clutching each other in the snow.

“Oh! And in school he used to eat these lollies that make you hiccup bubbles. They taste absolutely horrid but he kept doing it and she thought it was hilarious! They’re both insane”, Theseus said passionately as he gestured to you tangled in one another’s arms and giggling still.

“Insanely in love,” Jacob countered wondering if that’s what he and Queenie looked like to the outside world when they were absorbed in each other.

Newt was the first to climb to his feet, helping you up and brushing the snow off of you as you turned to Theseus with a frown “Drooble’s gum was the best!”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Newt was just finishing tending to the Mooncalves when he spotted a stunning flower growing in one of the nearby enclosures. He hummed to himself as he wandered over to get a closer look at the flower, looking down at Pickett when the Bowtruckle climbed over to the flower, chirping up at Newt as he gestured at it. “Yes I was just thinking that myself. Y/N would love it”.

He hummed as he leant forward over one of the trees to pluck the flower out from its spot, completely oblivious to the Billywig nest that was hanging over his head. You were always warning him about this particular tree.

He stood up quickly when he had the flower in his hand, yelping when he felt a sting in his neck, his other hand flying up to grasp his neck. He sighed when he caught a glimpse of a Billywig buzzing away and he quickly jogged back towards his shack where he knew he had some anti venom stashed away.

He made it, only a few steps away from the shelves of vials when his feet left the ground and a few giggles began to spill from his lips as the effects of the Billywig sting set in quickly. He rushed to grab his wand, crying out in frustration punctuated by more laughter when it slipped from his grasp and fell to the floor along with the flower as he was left levitating in the air.

As the time wore on the giddiness symptoms wore away but much to Newt’s dismay the levitation side effect didn’t so he resigned himself to flailing around along the ceiling of the shack while a small group of the creatures gathered below him and paced nervously. He had tried and failed several times to coax the creatures to rescue his wand for him.

You arrived home from work not much later, calling out to your boyfriend as you wandered into the apartment, frowning as you wondered where he was. He was usually waiting for you with a pot of tea and biscuits ready, waiting to tell you something exciting about his creatures. You checked in the bedroom and frowned when you couldn’t see any sign of him, calling out for him again “Newt?”

You paused when you thought you heard him shouting in the distance, nodding as you headed straight for his case and climbed down the stairs into his shack.

“Y/N thank Merlin you’re home!”

You gasped and jumped back clutching your chest when you heard Newt’s voice from above you, staring up at him in shock “Newt, goodness are you okay?! Are you hurt?”, you panicked, rushing towards him trying to reach up to him.

Newt waved his hands when he saw your panic, shaking his head “I’m fine I got stung by one of the Billywigs”, he sighed when he tried to reach for you and couldn’t quite stretch far enough.

You looked back at him in silence for a moment before you suddenly burst into full bellied laughter, tipping your head back. “Y/N! can you help me down first before you spend the afternoon laughing at me”, he called, pouting at you when you continued to laugh, grabbing your wand and pointing it at him. You paused your laughter long enough as you flicked your wand at him.

“Levicorpus!”

Newt shouted when he suddenly flipped upside down, “Y/N!”, he huffed in exasperation but he softened slightly and couldn’t help but smile at the way you giggled in response. His face was now roughly in line with yours and he was able to reach out and grasp your shoulders. “I thought Billywig stings were supposed to make you giddy?” you murmured as you gently stroked Newt’s face and he leant into your touch instinctively “that symptom wore off about 20 minutes ago.”

You giggled again and nodded, pressing a soft kiss to his lips causing Newt to hum in surprise as he closed his eyes and took in the new sensation of kissing you while hanging upside down. You let go of him and stepped back to give him room as you cast your wand at him again “Liberacorpus” and Newt closed his eyes as he suddenly spun upright again, still levitating above you.

You wandered over to the storage cabinet, scanning the shelves and grabbing the anti venom vial, setting it on Newt’s desk before you walked back over to him, trying to tug him down by his ankles. You huffed and puffed as you eventually managed to get him a safe distance closer to the ground, holding the vial up to him.

Newt quickly skulled the liquid, scrunching his face up in disgust and not catching himself in time to land on his feet as he hurtled towards the ground. Your eyes widened and you quickly grabbed him, letting out a yelp when you crashed to the ground under Newt, the two of you a mess of tangled limbs.

Newt quickly shifted his weight off of you, checking you over for any injuries as he lay over you, smiling as you began to laugh again, cupping his cheeks “darling, are you okay?”, you murmured, looking back up at him in amusement. Newt nodded, pressing a quick kiss to your lips “I’m fine. You saved me, my love.”he murmured, smiling in amusement when you let out another giggle “goodness, it’s almost as if you were the one that got stung with all that laughter”

“I can’t help it! You should have seen your face when you were flailing around up there! What were you even doing near the Billywig nest you goose?”, you grinned at him, your lips then pulling into a small frown when you noticed the angry looking welt on his neck, skimming your fingertips over it.

Newt hummed when he saw the concern wash over your face, quickly hopping to his feet and pulling you with him “I’m fine my darling, I promise.” he soothed knowing you were prone to worrying over him. He squeezed your hand before he quickly snatched up the flower from where it had fallen, holding it out to you.

“I spotted this and thought you would like it, it’s not my fault that Pickett was a terrible watch guard”, he murmured, poking his tongue out at the Bowtruckle who squeaked in offence.

You held the flower up and admired it with a wide smile, shaking your head to yourself because Newt’s thoughtfulness never ceased to amaze you “Thank you, Newt. It’s beautiful.”

You leant in to kiss him again before you pulled him upstairs into the apartment where you set the flower into a vase on the dining table and Newt let you fuss over the his sting welt.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

You were sitting at the small makeshift desk in Newt’s shack in the case, having decided to use the desk to repot a bunch of your plants while your husband was nearby. You claimed that the desk was just a convenient height for your planting needs and that you wanted to spend time with him but Newt had caught on to the fact that you were really just taking the chance to ogle him as he tried to train a father cranky Kelpie.

He had been suspicious immediately because you’d never had any issue with your work bench in your greenhouse he’d built for you before but he fell easily enough for your excuse of wanting to spend time with him.

So he worked in the room beside you, trying in vain to slip a bridle onto the agitated Kelpie, catching you leaning back in your chair dangerously several time’s to properly look at him. It wasn’t until he caught sight of your slightly heated gaze that he realised what was really happening. You’d always had a thing for him in a wet shirt, he remembered because you’d told him as much once before you had practically tackled him in a very heated kiss.

You knew you’d been caught out from the look of realisation that passed over Newt’s face followed by the faintest blush on his cheeks and you nibbled your lip slightly before you smiled teasingly at him. Newt still wasn’t used to this openly flirty side of you that had seemed to emerge after the wedding but he couldn’t deny that he loved it.

“Perhaps you should take off your shirt”, you said as flirtatiously as you could muster, throwing in a wink at the end and letting out a chuckle when Newt grew flustered in response.

“Y/N, I am trying to do serious work here! I do not need you trying to distract me with your charms”, he huffed, rolling his eyes at you fondly when you only smiled innocently back at him.

You held up your dirt covered hands and shrugged “I’m just saying you will probably be more comfortable without that sopping wet material weighing you down. And Kelpie will probably like you more, because I know I certainly do.”

Newt snorted in response and turned away from you and back to the creature that was still splashing around in protest. He had to admit he was flattered by your blatant ogling but he had a creature to train! Plus it couldn’t hurt to tease you a little in return. Merlin, knows you deserved it after every stunt you’d pulled on your honeymoon.

He tried a few more times unsuccessfully to slip the bridle over the Kelpie before he climbed up onto his step ladder, reaching up and rummaging around through his storage for the other bridle he had that the creature would sometimes accept.

He glanced over at you, biting back a laugh when he glimpsed you leaning back in your chair again, your eyes fixated on where his shirt had ridden up, exposing the lower part of his abdomen.

His smile dropped however when the chair slipped out from beneath you and you let out a yelp as you fell backwards, potting mix flying all over you as you landed on the ground with a soft thud.

“Y/N!”, he shouted, leaping down from the step ladder and kneeling down beside you quickly, relaxing in relief when you grasped his hands, assuring him you were fine. Though you were clearly a little embarrassed as you lay there covered head to toe in dirt and the Flitterbloom you had been planting had landed in your hair and was squirming around your head, tousling your hair up.

Newt looked down at your vexed expression, laughing loudly as he carefully removed the plant from atop your head “My darling girl, I told you you would fall if you didn’t stop that.” he chuckled, setting the plant on the desk before he helped you sit up, looking at you with a mixture of amusement and pure adoration.

You huffed and brushed the dirt off your dress, “well it’s partially your fault for being so handsome,” you grumbled, only making Newt laugh more as he pulled you into him, wrapping his arms around you tightly and effectively drenching you with his soaked shirt too. “It’s entirely your fault for being such a tease”, he countered, holding you tighter when you scrunched your nose up at the damp hug.

He grinned as he nuzzled his wet hair into your neck and you squealed at the ticklish sensation before you too broke down in a fit of giggles in his arms. “Merlin, I love you so much”, he breathed into your shoulder, groaning when you lifted your hand and smeared some potting mix over his face “Y/N!”.

You snorted in response and pecked him on the nose, closing your eyes when he rubbed the dirt over your face in return “I love you too, even when you make me fall out of my chair.”

Title: My Funny Valentine- Ella Fitzgerald (her voice is so beautiful. But also Michael Buble does the BEST arrangements Lyrics r kinda mean :( but makes sense in the musical) -MASTERLIST HERE-

#newt scamander x reader #newt scamander #newt scamander x y/n #newt scamander fluff #newt x reader #newt x y/n #newton artemis fido scamander

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creamypudding · 4 years

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Second long-fic posted for this year. I’m on a roll. I’m so happy to be clearing the backlog of WIPs. How Shoegazing was my AkuRoku baby, Kintsukuroi is my Clack baby. They are completely different, but I hold them both with equal weight in my hearft. I’ll be posting chapters for this weekly. Please do leave me comments and feedback on AO3. As much as I loved writing this story, I am also extremely burnt out from it, so some kind of appreciation of my hard work would be... appreciated, heh. Do heed the AO3 tags and Author content warnings. This story gets emotionally draining at times. Title: Delivery, for a Mr. Zack Fair Chapter: 1/14 Fandom: FFVII - Modern AU. Pairing: Zack/Cloud Rated: Teen Word Count: 10,490

Summary: Kintsukuroi - an art and philosophy that in embracing flaws and imperfections, you can create an even stronger, more beautiful piece of art. *** Cloud enjoys his job as a delivery driver, that is until one day he is tasked with making a special delivery to a man who lies physically and mentally broken in hospital.This is a story about love, healing, and forgiveness of the self and others. ————————————————-

Chapter 1: Delivery, for a Mr. Zack Fair

Despite the lack of snow, and the winter sun hanging at its low apex, it was still cold. The frosty air gnawed and bit into the tip of Cloud’s nose. It blasted against and stiffened his gloved fingers, and caused shivers to wrack his body. Winter wasn’t the best time of year to ride his motorcycle, but his passion for his vehicle outweighed the seasonal discomfort. Rugged up with a scarf under his helmet, multiple shirts, a sweater under his riding jacket, and thermals beneath his leather pants, Cloud’s teeth still chattered. He looked forward to arriving at work, where he would hop into the familiar white and blue delivery van with its air conditioner, funky smell, worn leather seating, and sticky patches all over the dashboard caused by spilled coffee.

He lived about half an hour's ride from work and arrived at the two-story brick warehouse at around midday. He rode around the back of the large, empty lot, to the garage capable of housing five vans, and parked his bike near the wall. He left his helmet hanging on the handlebars and headed through the lofty loading zone, past the only vehicle still remaining (his own) and to the door, stepping into the heated office space beyond. With a relieved sigh, he pulled his gloves off and rubbed them together, regaining warmth and feeling.

Tifa, wearing her trademark business suit, gave the usual teasing greeting of, "Hello, Cloud. Sleep well?" which forced an unintelligible grumbled retort from him. He clocked in and headed to the left side of the sparsely decorated rectangular room. A long, mid-chest high cupboard stood along the wall with five color-coded plastic double-letter trays atop of it. The top tray housed his schedule for the day, and the bottom one held his payslips and things of that nature. A large whiteboard hung on the wall right above the cupboard with each employee’s details demarcated to line up with their specific letter-trays.

He grabbed the laminated folder containing his sheet of paper, listing addresses and delivery times, and stalked off to the van. He grabbed the held out travel mug as he passed Tifa.. “Thanks,” he muttered while she smiled at him with amusement. Cloud counted his blessings that Tifa was understanding of his late starts to the day and his sporadic-yet-far-too-common absences.

Cloud sank into his familiar seat, left the bright-pink folder on his lap, and cradled his mug. It warmed his icy hands. The strong coffee brew revitalised him from the arduous task of having woken up this morning and gotten himself out of bed. He skimmed over his list of jobs for the day at a casual pace, set his GPS, and headed off to get his workday underway.

His day consisted of a sizable amount of pick-ups and drop-offs. Small and large parcels and goods alike. Usually, he’d radio Gavin or Therone to see if he could get more jobs, but today he felt extra drained, so just stuck to what was on his sheet. He drove to familiar businesses and places, and some new locations. One of these was somewhat out of the way. Cloud took a left turn onto the freeway and headed out of the metropolitan area. The densely packed housing turned rural and then downright quaint; cows and horses dotted fields, small bakeries and one-pump gas stations came and went.

The road, though no less busy, lacked maintenance. Pot-holes, great and small, peppered it. He finally reached his destination: a giant greenhouse. He pulled into the large expansive gravel forecourt, and to his surprise found the car park almost completely full. People came and went, carrying gardening equipment and flowers of all sorts of shapes and colors. He pulled into a parking space, and got out, heading for the large glass structure. For being so out-of-the-way of the major population centers, it sure was bustling.

Cloud entered through a set of glazed double doors, and then another set of automated sliding doors to get into the building proper. He was instantly accosted by the perfuming fragrant scent of flowers, as well as a very comfortable warmth. Winter didn’t touch this botanist’s wet dream and it almost felt tropical. Cloud sneezed. Repeatedly.

He remembered that flowers weren’t his friends, though he could still appreciate the botanical marvel he found himself in. Flowers and plants of all shapes, sizes, species, and colors, grew absolutely everywhere. A lot sat in pots, but an equal number also grew right from out of the soiled and mulched ground. It smelled like earth and damp. Not a wholly unpleasant thing. It was just the flowers that got Cloud sniffling like crazy.

He sneezed again and a friendly voice sounded next to him, “Here. My flowers have that effect on some people.”

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#clack #zakkura #cloud strife #zack fair #zack/cloud #cloud/zack #ffvii #alternative universe #fanfic

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vmheadquarters · 4 years

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We’re still playing our game of written hot potato! Dozens of your favorite authors are taking turns to tell a Veronica Mars mystery story. Each writer crafts their chapter and then “tosses” the story to the next person to continue the tale. No one knows what will happen, so expect the unexpected!

Follow the “vmhq presents” and “murder we wrote” tags for all the installments, or read the story as it develops on AO3. --Chapter Twenty-One of MURDER, WE WROTE is written by @DRiver2u. And stayed tuned next week for Ch.22 from @amypc1 - tag, you’re it!

—————————————————————————————————— CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE by @DRiver2u

The noise in the room was a low pulse of small groups talking among themselves. The conversations were not enthusiastic or lighthearted, but the former classmates were speaking just to have something to do. Whenever the din let up, someone new took over with a tale from the exploits of high school past. No one wanted to admit that, now they had eaten, there was time to start exploring the mansion for a murderer.

Hovering off to the side, as she so often did in social situations, Veronica's thoughts were exploding as quickly as she felt her ankle swelling. Her injury didn't hurt as much as she thought it should, and she wondered if she was in shock, rather than having an actual physical ailment. She plotted about how to move to another part of the house, so she could test the theories running through her brain. The crowded space in her mind needed an escape, and if she was being honest with herself, it wasn't the only part of her that needed a release.

She caught Logan's eye as he looked up from the drone of Casey's story, and she gave a quick tip of her head towards the direction of the kitchen. "Meet me there," she mouthed from across the room as she pointed with her pinky finger. She assessed her wonky situation and dropped her elevated foot, rolled to her stomach, and one-legged-downward-facing-dog walked herself to a standing position. For a moment, she steadied herself, using one flat foot and the tips of her toes on the other before trying her balance. She hobbled on her bad ankle and made a comment under her breath, just loud enough for the scrum of former classmates in the middle of the room to hear her complain.

"You rang," Logan quipped, as he turned to see her push through the kitchen door. "Or muttered, I guess would be more accurate." He watched as she moved from limping to balancing herself on the kitchen counter, and then doing a half-twisting boost onto the island. The gymnastics of the moves were worthy of more than a participation certificate. Logan studied her as she forced out a sigh and regained her composure. His mind filled with other uses for those skills. "Your powers never cease to amaze."

"I need some ice for my ankle, but I've been thinking, and I might want to reconsider something," Veronica cooed as her finger made its way between her teeth. Before Logan could head towards the freezer, she commanded, "Come closer."

Logan advanced and slid between her dangling legs. Veronica's citrus shampoo, the acid from the tomato ragu, and the yeast from a green bottle of Heineken left near the Belfast sink sent mixed signals to his brain. This wasn't the time or the place, what with the dead bodies, secret passages, and unknown assailants only a few feet from what he hoped would be their suction-cupped bodies, but he couldn't stop the fantasies entering his brain. Veronica stared into his eyes, hoping he would be able to read her mind. The drip of the faucet and the hiss of the radiator under the stained glass windows broke their silence.

As Logan leaned in to kiss the blonde in front of him, he felt the cool thickness of the marble countertop as it hit him just below his waistband. His mouth hovered near her lips, but he turned his head and teased her with the breeze that swept by her mouth. She grabbed the back of his neck demanding to be closer to him, to touch his sweetness. He was stronger than her, and pulled back, watching as her eyes slid shut. As his hands wrapped around her waist and his thumbs pushed into her hips, she let out a small whimper and her breathing quickened.

It was the panting and the moaning that made him pull her closer. He wanted this, she wanted this, but they had made a deal to slow things down this time. He could wait. Could he wait? Anticipation was a hell of an aphrodisiac.

When he finally kissed her, would she taste like roasted garlic, red wine, dried Parmesan cheese, or chocolate mousse? Whatever was left of their dinner would be lost as his mind cleared of all but the softness of her lips. Logan gazed into Veronica's eyes before kissing her wordlessly. Only seconds later, Veronica released her hands from his hair and scrambled to tug his thermal base layer from the waist of his trousers and ran her hands towards his brawny chest, feeling multiple indentations as her fingers spread.

"We need to reconsider that we may have only two days left to live, so three dates seems too long to wait to get naked," she said, at a much higher volume than Logan found desirable. He tilted his head as he tried to shake the noise and vibration out of his eardrum.

"I think you're out of practice on the whispering of sweet nothings," Logan grumbled. "The key to that phrase being 'whispering', sugarpuss."

Veronica reached up and took his face in her hands, then bent the side of his head towards her mouth. "We're being watched, right?" Logan nodded his head and wondered if this new taste for voyeurism would be part of their future escapades. He swallowed at the thought and caught himself breathing harder than only a few seconds ago. Veronica continued her train of thought in his ear. "Let's find out if this is really about us. They're watching, so if they see us, uh you know, all hot and heavy, they may try to break in and stop it."

Logan dropped his head, realizing this was nothing more than part of the game, part of her desire to solve this riddle. "I don't know if I feel like a mark, the bait, or a damsel in distress." He swallowed and took a deep breath.

Veronica kissed him softly and met his eyes. She didn't need words to explain to him that her brain was working overtime. It wasn't desire he had seen in her eyes when they started this rendezvous. But it was passion--just not the kind of passion he was hoping to experience.

"Enid Curtis," Veronica whispered again and gave him a mischievous smile before returning to his ear. "How many people do you know who are named Enid? Not one, I bet. Enid Curtis and Mason. Flip them letters around and what'd ya get? DIES UNROMANTICS." She gave him a quick kiss at his temple, but she wanted to give him a high five.

Logan chuckled before bending his head and raising his eyes to meet hers. "A bit of a grammar cock up, wouldn't you say?" He paused and tilted his head until his mouth met her ear, his hands continued to meander under her shirt. "If you're going to slip down the Enid path, it seems impossible not to bring up Tennyson. You should know to leave the English stuff to me."

Veronica inched away from him and stared at Logan. "So, you think there's a book on one of the shelves by Alfred, Lord Tennyson that'll help solve this riddle?" she asked in a low voice.

"Well, I'm more of a Keats guy myself, but it's tough not to respect a guy who came up with the lines, and I'm paraphrasing here, 'Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all' and 'Theirs is not to reason why. Theirs is but to do and die'." Logan turned the words over in his mind. Loss and death weren't nearly as appealing to him as Keats' haunting words about beauty, joy, love, and truth.

"Yeah, it's the 'do and die' part that makes me a bit worried," Veronica chided. "And what's that got to do with Enid?"

"I'm saying that Tennyson wrote Idylls of the King. In it is a poem about the perfect love Enid has for her husband." Veronica stared blankly at him before he continued. "He gets jealous, but she stays faithful. He thinks she cheated, but she stays faithful. He treats her like dirt, but she stays faithful. Seeing a pattern?"

"So Enid is perfect?" Veronica asked with a sly smile.

"It used to be a real compliment for a woman to be referred to as an 'Enid'," Logan remembered from a group project about Victorian poets. Who knew those trivialities might one day prove to be important?

Logan continued after a small pause, clearing his throat. "Oh, and Tennyson influenced the Pre-Raphaelite artists with his sumptuous verses. God, they painted some majestic stuff. Dead women, lots of flowing hair, unrequited love. Come to think of it, one was even of Enid, I think." He smiled at the idea of his mother and said, "First ones I saw were at Andrew Lloyd Webber's estate, because my mom dragged me there when she was desperate to get a part in a possible West End Cats revival."

"Keats, Tennyson, and Raffi," Veronica scrambled, only half listening to the other voice in the room. "I don't see the connection. Unless someone thinks I'm the perfect mate?" Veronica's mind danced with the knowledge that she may have an admirer rather than a stalker. She heard Logan snicker and watched as he shook his head.

"Raphaelites, bobcat, but who am I to doubt the perfect bit," he mocked with a chuckle. "Maybe Enid and Tennyson mean nothing. Maybe you were on the right track with the scrambled letters. Or maybe this mysterious host is telling you to ask others for help with this riddle. 'There's no I in team', 'It takes teamwork to make the dream work', 'Collaborate before we evaporate'. Etcetera, etcetera."

Veronica squinted at him, but only grunted out a, "Huh?"

"OK, maybe I made some of those up," Logan laughed. "But we're all here for a reason, and I don't think it's just to be dead bodies, cute faces, or red herrings." They both stayed quiet a moment and realized their musings had blown their cover. Their so-called tryst had turned into a book club.

"Ice," Veronica directed, and Logan grabbed the hand towel near the stove as he sauntered towards the industrial-sized refrigerator. "But now what?"

"Lead on, perfect Enid," he quipped. He took a deep breath as he felt Veronica going back into her brain. "OK. If you want to stick with rearranging letters, we can do that, but I prefer NUDES IS ROMANTIC."

#veronica mars #veronica mars fanfic #vm fanfic #vmhq presents #murder we wrote #round robin

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queercapwriting · 5 years

Note

So potential prompt for the holiday series: just a cheesy hallmarky movie fic. Girl meets girl for some reason they're on opposite sides of a business they have to work together to make Christmas or Chanuka festivities a reality and they end up falling in love. But this time, ITS FINALLY GAY! but that's also a lot so also totally cool if it's disregarded...

“I don’t understand,” Maggie rolled her eyes -- for what felt like the four hundredth time -- at her supervisor Professor M’orzz. “They’re astrophysics. We’re xenobio. Why on Earth - no pun intended, I guess - would we work with them on a stupid holiday party?”

Professor M’orzz sighed, also for what felt like the four hundredth time. “Because, Maggie, the show of unity will be good for the overall science department. Funding and all that. And anyway, it’s as you said: astrophysics and xenobiology. You realize that both departments are dismissed by the entire rest of the department as speculative sciences, right? That should give us some kind of bond, you’d think, no?”

Maggie sighed, knowing when she was caught in a truth. “Yeah. I know. Just. They’re so into... math.”

Professor M’orzz smiled at that. “Well I’m sure you and their representative will have a lot to learn from each other while you plan the department’s holiday party then.”

“And why me, again?”

“You know why. The student doing the most prestigious work in our program, being the face of our holiday party slash fundraiser? We need the money to continue our research, donors love to give around the holidays, and you know it.”

Maggie sighed, heavy and deep and with a slight exaggeration that she knew would aggravate anyone else, but that Professor M’orzz would have affection for.

“Fine. Who am I collaborating with, then?”

She didn’t know that the person she was collaborating with was right down the hall in the astrophysics lab, having the same conversation with their professor.

“Oh come on, J’onn,” they said, because Alex Danvers was far past formalities. “It’s a cheap ploy for money, and -”

“A cheap ploy for money that will keep this department running, Alex,” J’onn said. “It’ll help pay for that accelerator I know you and Mr. Allen were chatting about earlier this week.”

Alex glared, knowing when they were defeated. “Fine. I’ll meet up with this Sawyer woman then.”

“Good,” J’onn smiled, as Alex set off toward the xenobio program office.

They met each other in the hallway and knew each other instantly, by reputation and, somehow, by instinct.

“Danvers,” Maggie greeted with a slight glare and head tilt.

“Sawyer,” Alex clasped their hands behind their back as though to take shaking hands off the table completely.

“So we’ve got to work together on this stupid party,” Maggie said.

“At least we can agree it’s stupid,” Alex smirked.

“Might be stupid, but I’ve got some ideas.”

"Yeah, xenobio’s all about ideas with no observational data for follow-through,” Alex murmured, forgetting everything J’onn had tried to teach them about diplomacy.

“Well,” Maggie nearly stood on tiptoes to look Alex in the eye, but seemed to think better of it, “getting money for both of our departments with this damn holiday party is well within my no-observational-data’s jurisdiction,” Maggie said, and she had the audacity to smirk along with that infuriatingly sexy - wait, no, just infuriating, right? - little head tilt.

“Your jurisdiction ends where I say it does,” Alex returned, knowing even as they spoke the words that they were being way over the top. But Maggie seemed to like over the top, because her smirk only deepened.

“My lab. Seven pm. We’ll do some planning then, okay?”

Alex blinked, and Maggie seemed to take that as ascent as she turned on her heel. “See you around, Danvers.”

So Alex, flummoxed, had no choice but to head to the xenobio lab at seven that night.

If they were honest, they’d always been enamored of the subject. They were considering doing further graduate work in both astrophysics and xenobio -- the fields were so interlinked that the rivalry made absolutely no sense. But, alas, competition like that had a momentum of its own, and who was Alex to mess with an unstoppable force?

Except Maggie Sawyer seemed to be an immovable object of some kind.

Because by the time Alex showed up, Maggie had an entire whiteboard full of ideas for this stupid holiday party they were supposed to throw, complete with scribbles in the margins about the ways that tardigrades’ capacity for coming back to life after extreme desiccation could be used to help fuel crop growth in arid regions, and tiny, hastily-scrawled notes about how bacteria that survived thermal heat vents in deep oceans could be useful for understanding the origins of... well, of everything.

It was like she’d been party planning, all Chanukah this and Christmas that, with a strong dose of fundraising everywhere, and then gotten so sidetracked by her own genius that she had to stop and scribble out her ideas before they leaked away, elusive and never to return...

Alex did that kind of thing, constantly, in their own notebooks, on their own whiteboards...

So they walked past Maggie, without so much as a greeting, to squint -- not at her holiday party notes -- but at her scientific ideas.

Maggie didn’t move, but rather watched Alex quietly, as they stared at her ideas, looking for all the world like Alex was scrutinizing her naked body -- because really, they might as well have been.

“You know,” Alex said into the silence after several long, long moments, “if I’m understanding your horrible handwriting correctly --”

“Well this is starting off great --”

“Then if we exchanged some of our data, I think you could help me understand some of what might happen on rogue planets and I might be able to help you engineer some solves on your desiccation-scaling problem.”

Alex finally turned to look at their forced colleague, and Maggie was tilting her head, staring between the whiteboard and Alex. “We would do better sharing data than hating each other, wouldn’t we?”

“That’s what J’onn is always saying.”

“Professor M’orzz, too.”

Alex took a deep sigh, and Maggie gave that infuriating smirk again. “Well, maybe this holiday party’s a start. Planning now, the fun stuff later?”

There was a sparkle in Maggie’s eye, Alex thought, when she referenced fun stuff, and for a moment -- just a moment -- Alex wondered whether she meant fun science or fun sex.

Or both.

Or maybe it was all just in Alex’s head.

They really needed to get out of the lab more.

“Come on,” Maggie smirked again, and yep, Alex definitely needed to get out of the lab more, because they definitely should not be finding this xenobio woman attractive. Maggie reached under a desk to pull out to utterly ridiculous-looking hats.

One was a tall green pointy thing with elf ears on the sides; the other was a floppy red Santa hat. “If we’re gonna plan this damn thing, we might as well get in the spirit. Come on.” Maggie held both hats out to Alex, bobbing her hands up and down to indicate that Alex should pick one.

“Absolutely not,” they crossed their arms over their chest.

“Oh come on. If we have to do this, we should do it right.”

“I’m Jewish,” Alex protested as a last resort, and Maggie tilted her head deeper for a moment before diving back under her desk.

“A beanie, then. Simple, but wintery. And I’ll be an elf.”

She tugged the elf hat deep over her head, so the fake ears covered her own. Alex couldn’t help but snort and accept the blue beanie Maggie held out.

“Okay. So. Are we going to plan the biggest, most money-making and fun-having holiday party of all time, or what?” Maggie asked.

“If you’re gonna go, go hard,” Alex muttered, a smile creeping onto their face. Because Maggie was mocking the whole thing, even with her enthusiasm, and it was so Alex’s style that they couldn’t help but admire her.

Plus, all those scribbles in the margins...

They stayed in the lab well past midnight, sidetracking every hour or so to get into broader discussions about their fields, their passions, the things they most wanted to discover, the ways they both wanted to use their studies to change the world, the solar system, the galaxy.

Somewhere in between, they also divvied up who would be responsible for venue, food, invites, decorations, music, and the best ways to actually get a solid mix of grad students, professors, and rich alumni in the room.

By the time they agreed to call it a night and head home, neither of them quite thought the holiday party was such a stupid idea after all.

They met a handful more times in between. More logistics and more details. But -- not that either of them would admit it -- more often than not, their meetings became excuses to talk science, to talk to universe.

To talk about Maggie’s father and Alex’s mother, Maggie’s hometown and Alex’s surfing.

To talk about anything and everything under the sun, under the ocean, and above Earth’s sky.

Neither of them noticed, or would admit it.

Until the night of the holiday party neither of them wanted to plan.

Alex wore an elegantly green dress, backless and just this side of tight.

Maggie wore a red suit, white shirt, red tie, slim cut and just this side of swoon-worthy.

They stopped when they saw each other, because usually they were in sweats and glasses and yesterday’s makeup, pen stains on their hands and goggles on top of their heads.

They stopped when they saw each other, because suddenly, all their conversations, all those excuses for meetings... clicked.

“You look beautiful, Sawyer,” Alex breathed, running a hand through the buzzed side of their hair self-consciously.

“And you look handsome, Danvers,” Maggie smirked, but this time it was warm, not sarcastic, and Alex wondered when that transition had happened.

“This uh...” Alex gestured around the room, at the party still being set up around them. “We did good.”

“We did,” Maggie grinned, even as her eyes were glued to Alex’s body.

“Still my jurisdiction, though,” Alex murmured as the two stepped closer to each other. Something about gravitational forces between unstoppable forces and immovable objects.

“Not a chance,” Maggie shook her head as they entered each other’s space, no need for words when they’d both already said so much with their planning, their late nights, their bodies, with their dreams and their scribblings in the margins.

“Merry Christmas, Maggie.”

“Happy Chanukah, Alex.”

They didn’t need any mistletoe to tell them to kiss.

Professor M’orzz and J’onn fist-bumped behind them, because they’d definitely had holiday hopes for the two all along.

#sanvers #sanvers grad school au #sanvers au #sanvers fic #12 days of sanvers and supercorp christmas

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sonipanda · 5 years

Text

Finally a pair of sheer nudes to review! I have been so caught up doing patterned and mainly blacks, it’s a nice change to get some nudes back onto the blog again.

Now this pack is pretty awesome; I got these recommended by an amazing person I know and after seeing them trialled, I had to get myself a pack. These come in a pack of 3, but to my surprise they ended up sending 4 (1 being a gift).

The Spec

Colour: Honey

Size: Small – Medium

Denier: 20

Materials: 88%nylon,12%spande

Price: £9.89 (3 pack)

Website: Amazon – JIAYI Women’s Sheer To Waist Sexy Silk Pantyhose Tights From S To XXXXL

My Outfit

I wore my racer-back crop top paired with my hounds tooth smart shorts and added my white hi-tops to finish off the look. If I changed the top to a long sleeved or a t-shirt, I would easily rock with heels.

My Deets

Crop Top: Forever21

Shorts: Forever21

Tights: Jiayi

Trainers: Just Fab

The Review

From The Website: JIAYI has been passionate about legwear since 1995. JIAYI is an excellent legwear company, combining with products R&D, manufacture and sale. All of our products meet Oeko Tex Standard 100 regulations, which means safe and eco-friendly. From Sheers to Thermal leggings, JIAYI is proud to offer a wide range of legwear products to make your legs more beautiful.

Sheer toe design,sheer to waist,fits most types of clothing including sandals,short shorts,the mini-skrit. Cotton crotch,soft and breathable meterial.enough elastic,fit perfectly,stay up Durable,not fall down. 20177123(11) Ultra-thin and elegant tights with control top,comfortable tower,like your second layer of skin. Hand wash in luke warm water, separately .Only non-chlorine bleach when needed.drip dry. 88%nylon,12%spandex. 20 Deniner. Manufacturer warranty will not apply. Please review Amazon’s return policy, which usually offers free returns within 30 days of receipt.

The Packaging: very basic… And I mean basic. See what I mean below…

When you get in, these are flat folded and wrapped around card.

I love how these also come with a little guide on how to get on your tights (the pink piece of paper shown below) which I thought was a lovely gesture.

On The Legs: so not bad I have to say. At first, when I was rolling them up I thought they looked a little too light, but as I got them on, they did darken my legs slightly; gave them a little hint of colour I should say really.

The denier of these being 20 is pretty nice; especially for Summer coming up and you want something quite subtle on the legs. I felt they added colour and gave me a lovely make-up finish on the legs.

The quality is pretty awesome as well. I had no snags or rips throughout the day and I was dead impressed. I didn’t really know what to expect as it was my first time trying out this brand, but I have to say they did me proud today. These do have a nice bit of stretch in them, but enough for your leg size and length, so I would make sure you check out the sizing guide before you buy.

The fit of these were great; I had no issues with them at all and felt they were the right size. The feel of them are so nice; they are smooth with a lovely silky finish to them. They were easy enough to run your hands down and not get it caught put it that way 🙂

Now I tried to use flash to see if they are quite glossy, however it didn’t really work out. I would say they are a semi-gloss rather than a full gloss pair (if that makes sense) so you get some shine but not a lot.

The Toes & Ankle: now there is no mention of these being reinforced toes in any way, so we shall assume that there isn’t any, so do be careful with those long nails!

There is enough wiggle room for your toes to breathe, and no extra material hanging around on the ends either. It’s a lovely fit around the feet.

Around the ankles, there is a lovely smooth finish.

The Waistband: apart from the squiggly seam at the front, the bands on these are so awesome! I had to roll mine down slightly due to my shorts, but otherwise they have some good grip and hold to them. They sit around the waist perfectly and don’t lose elasticity easily either.

My Thoughts?

I am super glad I gave these a go! I really do love these and think they’re nice if you wan a simple pair which gives you a bit of colour.

By the way I do have 3 pairs brand new if anyone wanted to purchase!

JIAYI Sheer To Waist Silk Tights Finally a pair of sheer nudes to review! I have been so caught up doing patterned and mainly blacks, it's a nice change to get some nudes back onto the blog again.

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takemedancingmaine · 5 years

Text

Go, Cubs, Go!

It was cold. Very, very cold. I had prepared myself for it, too, but wasn't able to properly stay warm no matter how hard I tried. The walk from my front door to the stadium takes less than ten minutes, and in that time I'd frozen.

I had worn a thermal and a long sleeve t-shirt underneath my jersey and my jacket, had a knit hat on and had on a pair of leggings underneath my jeans. When I'd left my apartment I'd glanced at my weather app on my phone and thought about how ridiculous I'd look all bundled up when the temperature was supposed to be 45 degrees I almost cringed in embarrassment. I was pretty good at dealing with the cold.

When I was a block away from my place though and a massive wind gust came and almost picked me up off the ground, I was thanking my forethought for the layers. We were going to be in the stands, high up and in the path of the wind, and I would have been miserable if I'd not dressed like I had. I thought wistfully of the overpriced beer that I'd purchase once inside and although the drink would be cold the alcohol would warm me up.

The streets and sidewalks were packed. Usually, they're pretty busy, especially when the Cubs play. This though. This was something else.

This was game one of the World Series.

The air was electric as I followed the crowds, the hoards of people--who had come by foot, car, train, and some by planes--down the road to the main entrance. I passed by countless scalpers yelling that they had the best price, passed people who'd bought water in bulk just to sell it to fans on the street, passed people who were overflowing out of bars with stamps on their hands to prove that they were allowed back inside per the fire code, and had even seen who I thought was Bill Murray out of the corner of my eye.

I was beyond excited. Words didn't exist that could describe how excited I was. Everyone from the group was coming out tonight, even Niall had been convinced to show up, and it was baseball at its finest.

There are two types of baseball. The first type is baseball in the spring and summer. Baseball in the summer is when you can just sit out in shorts and a jersey, get a tan while drinking a cold beer and watching a sport that enables you to have a conversation. It's a hot and lazy day with friends, sports, and alcohol. You can talk, watch, and just enjoy life as you engage with those around you.

Then there's tournament baseball. It includes lots of heckling and tension that doesn't leave your shoulders for hours. Any drinking is done to help relieve tension and not just to be done socially. The highs of the game--strikeouts, double plays, home runs--are higher and the lows are lower. There's always a belief that the impossible can happen and that's what sports are all about: the impossible becoming reality.

Both types of baseball have their merits, but both types also have their pitfalls. For instance, a negative to summer baseball is the inevitability that at least once you will forget sunscreen. Then that perfect tan you worked on turns into a radioactive, angry red colour--here's looking at you, college Cleo. A negative to tournament baseball is that it can end quickly and sour even the best of moods.

I shoved both my hands into my back pockets and tried to get to the meeting point we’d set for ourselves near the marquee. It was difficult to squeeze past and manoeuvre through countless people of all ages, but I spotted Harry and Ana along with Cleo all bundled together, chatting to each other with their backs angled toward the wind to block some of the cold.

I wasn't at all concerned that seeing my friends in person after news came out about Niall and myself. The group chat had been absolutely mental throughout the week, but it was nothing too bad, nothing neither Niall nor I couldn't handle. I was hoping that my friends would be mature and would have gotten all of their teasing out via text. I knew that wouldn't be the case, but I hoped regardless of my knowledge.

“Are we crazy for doing this?” Ana asked with a genuinely curious look on her face as I stepped up to them.

“Was Kennedy crazy when he said we were going to the moon?” Cleo asked back.

“Yes.” Harry nodded, his beanie causing the ends of his curls to wrap up and frame his face. He looked ten years younger as a result.

“Then yes.” Cleo smiled as she nudged me.

“Oh look, it's the woman of the hour.” Harry turned to face me. “I don't think I've ever known you not single.”

I groaned and closed my eyes for a moment.

“It's true,” he said matter-of-factly. “Three years now and you've not had a boyfriend for any span of time.”

“I wasn’t exactly withering away into nothingness during that time,” I sighed. “I went out and had fun.”

“Having fun with someone and dating someone are two completely different things,” Ana said.

“Cleo’s never had a girlfriend,” I pointed out.

“That's not true.” Cleo nudged me again. “Remember Mary?”

I shivered. I did remember her. “She was miserable and it only lasted three months.”

“It still counts.” She shrugged.

“It does.” Harry nodded as he gave me a cheeky smile. “Is it the accent that does it for you? Turns you on? Are you using him to get a work visa in Ireland?”

“Dude, sometimes I have an accent.” I gave him a pointed look. When I spoke to my parents or spoke in Hindi the accent just came out. I'd learned to speak it from my parents who had their own accents, so my words were tinted in the same ways.

Harry shrugged.

“And no. Seeing as he just moved back here and took a pretty good job, I doubt he's moving back to Ireland any time soon. If I was using him for a work visa it would be a poor plan.”

“True,” he said.

Even over the din of shouting and heckling and excited conversations going on around us, we all heard Louis calling out to is all in greeting. He was flanked by Niall and Liam, the three of them having met up at Niall’s and walking here instead of attempting to take the train. He had texted me while they walked saying they'd given him his fair share of ribbing.

He walked up to me wearing a Cubs hat and I spotted a Cubs shirt underneath his windbreaker. I had a sneaking suspicion that neither item was his.

He wrapped an arm around my waist and kissed my cheek as he stepped beside me. I melted under his touch--even knowing that all of our friends were gaping at us--and leaned into his side.

“I cannot believe you got me to come out here,” he said to us all while looking around pointedly at the crowd. “This place is absolutely insane.”

“It's pretty cool though, right?” Ana asked.

“Yeah, it's alright.” He shrugged, but his smirk gave him away.

“Ignore him, he's excited,” Louis looked between him and me, “and not just because Ruby is here.”

I reached over and flicked Louis’ ear. He laughed, and so did the rest of them. I groaned and Niall's hand squeezed my waist.

“Are these yours?” I asked as I reached up flicked the brim of Niall’s hat and pulled the collar of his shirt a bit.

“Actually, yes.” He smiled, proud of himself. “They're from when I lived here the first time. I worked literally less than a block from here: I couldn't not have some gear. Plus, I look really good in blue.”

I laughed and shook my head at him. He wasn't wrong, though. He did look good in blue, it brought out his eyes. Plus the baseball cap was doing things for me.

“Ready to go in?” Liam asked. He was getting anxious. Liam and I were on the same page about this game as anxious and excited energy seemingly flowed out of the two of us in waves.

“Let's forking do this thing!” Cleo jumped up and yelled. She was less anxious and more excited. Cleo was optimistic. I admired it, Liam ignored it as his pessimism swept through him.

The seven of us started moving through the throngs of people toward a gate where we all put our keys and phones in bins as we went through the x-ray machines and got our tickets scanned.

Liam was absolutely tense as he led us toward our seats, his excitement manifested in his tight shoulders and the crinkle in his brow, in his clenched jaw. Niall gave me a curious look and then looked at Liam before looking back at me. I laughed and gave an amused look back to him.

We had no trouble finding our seats--the number of times Liam and I had each been here was a fair number--and once we’d established our spot, Harry and Louis set off to get us each a beer.

Cleo was directly behind me, next to Ana. Harry would sit back there with them while Niall was on one side of me, Liam on the other, and Louis was to be on the far side of Niall. It was strategic on everyone's part to place Liam and me beside each other. He and I varied our emotions on the events of the game much more so than anyone else. Liam because he’d been a Cubs fan since before he could talk and me because when I followed a team I gave them every ounce of passion I possessed. Liam and I just understood each other best when it came to events like this.

Niall nudged his knee against mine as we were listening to Cleo tell a story about a second grader and a bug at recess. He gave me a look and I understood that he was asking if I was okay. Clearly, he could sense the tension as it rolled off of me. Or maybe he was sensing Liam’s tension through me.

I gave Niall a small nod and placed my hand on top of his knee, making a horrified expression when Cleo said something of the young girl trying to get the bug to go into her ear. Niall laughed at that, as did Ana. Liam and I both made faces but didn't offer anything vocally. I wasn't sure either of us had the capacity to at the time.

It took a while, but eventually, Harry and Louis made it back to us with trays of cups that overflowed with beer. I brightened considerably at the beverage passed my way, as did Liam. We all toasted and cheersed before I lifted my cup to my lips. If my intent was to use the alcohol to warm up, it helped if I had more than one sip in me.

Niall peaked over the rim of his own cup at me as I chugged down a few gulps.

“What?” I asked.

“Nervous?” He laughed.

“Shut up,” I said lightly and took another pointed sip, keeping my eyes on his.

He just smiled back at me, amusement dancing across his features.

This is what I lived for. I was in one of my favourite places in the world, with my best friends, surrounded by an energy that just seemed to heighten and sharpen all my thoughts and emotions. I was experiencing bliss.

I thought about all of my worries over the past month. I’d been made to feel unsafe and had experienced the gnawing worry of opening up to someone and risking my established friends in the process. I had gone back and forth with myself on how to feel safe. I had slept poorly because of the unease in my brain.

I had put my body through difficult training in the gym and the torture of copious amounts stress and what it was doing to me--circles under my eyes, what felt like a small ulcer in my stomach, near constant exhaustion despite my inability to fall asleep quickly most nights, and what I had realized was a compulsive need to double or occasionally triple check my locks every night.

But right here with my friends, in this moment, I felt everything negative and stressful just leave my body. I knew the feeling wouldn't last, so I revelled in it. Didn't think about the end of it, only thought about the now.

I could feel Niall’s eyes on me, and they were often on me throughout the evening. Whenever big things happened I felt his eyes on me, gauging my reaction and taking it in. When he wasn't watching me, he was actually watching the game. Everyone--excluding me and Liam--was teasing Niall about it being the one sport he couldn't get behind and asking him if we were doing any good at changing his perception.

In a moment of clarity, between innings, I had heard him answer that if anyone could change his perception it would be the lot of us. Harry cheered at that and confused a few of the fans around us as to what was going on, and they looked around, curious to see if they were missing something.

Throughout the game as the score fluctuated--we were up first, they came back, we levelled, they went ahead again--Liam and I were in absolute agony, especially as the game came down to the last inning. I can admit though that it was an absolute cracker of a game to watch. There was a fair bit of excitement.

It was only game one of the series. and there would have to be at least three more to come no matter what, but you never want to be the first to drop a game, especially with a home-field advantage.

I really found myself while watching baseball in college. I'd take a textbook and a notebook and pretend I was going to study or do practice problems as I sat in the sun on a warm Saturday afternoon, but the books would always remain closed as I watched the game, or just closed my eyes and felt the sun soak over me.

It was a way to relax. A bit like running would help me to clear my head, baseball would give me a way to just sit and feel at peace. It was weird, my attachment to baseball. I wasn't a sports person. I didn't play anything. I ran, but I didn't do anything like volleyball or soccer or lacrosse. So the fact that I'd become so taken with baseball and being at games was a strange happening.

I felt a calm rolling over me as the first out of the bottom of the ninth came in and it looked bad for us. I shouldn't have felt calm at all. In fact, the nervous energy I felt was causing me to practically vibrate, but underneath it, I felt a feeling of peace just being here in the first place.

Liam and I were mirrors of each other. We were each leaning forward in our seats with our elbows resting on our knees, our hands locked together in front of our mouths. I felt Niall put his hand on my knee as we got a runner on base. His warm touch was spreading through me, radiating his ease into me. It wasn't working. Even Niall, the force that could calm me in any other situation, wasn't working for baseball.

We’d each had a second beer (because why not spend a small fortune on beer that's ten dollars cheaper just outside the stadium walls?) and it had made Harry very talkative behind us. Between him and Cleo, the banter was borderline funny, but I honestly kept forgetting to laugh.

Niall squeezed my knee as the next batter stepped up to the plate. We were in dangerous territory, double-play-could-go-against-us territory, a fact that even Niall knew. Louis has been explaining things to him all night. Niall knew the basics of the game, three strikes, three outs, the concept of a double play, and a home run, but Louis was getting into strategy, which I think made it more real.

Despite my nerves, I looked over at Niall. He was trying and that made me give a small smile. I looked back down at the field but nudged him with my shoulder and he squeezed my knee again.

Liam groaned as strike one flew over the plate.

And then it happened.

The crack of the wooden bat echoed around the park and the ball sailed far and fast, landing just over the wall and in the fourth row of seats.

The air was incredibly still, almost like everyone else was also having a hard time believing what we’d seen, was holding their breath. And then Liam and I snapped into the present. And so did everyone else. The thunder, the roar of the crowd was deafening as the stadium erupted in euphoria. A walk-off home run.

It was only game one, I kept telling myself, but as I leapt from my seat and yelled and clapped I couldn't help but be optimistic. Hope is the thing with the feathers.

Five nights later we were huddled in what Louis had dubbed ‘Niall’s Old Bar’ a half-block from Wrigley. Apparently, Niall still had some influence there, because unlike everyone else we didn't have to start lining up to get in at ass o’clock in the morning. We did get here a bit early, but nothing too unmanageable.

“This is batshirt crazy!” Ana called as we--the entire bar--just finished another rendition of ‘Go, Cubs, Go!’ during a commercial break in the seventh inning. The series was 3-2 in favour of the Cubs, and tonight could either see us win or see us go even and leave it to a final game seven

Everyone here was really hoping for the first option. The win it all tonight option.

The Irish Oak was packed to capacity and we were currently waiting for our food. We’d ordered almost every appetizer on the menu to split amongst the group of us all, and we were on our second round of drinks at this point.

It was a Sunday. We all had work tomorrow. I'm sure our customers at the bakery would understand, but they wouldn't be too happy. And the teachers couldn't exactly show up with raging hangovers. However, Liam seemed to incline that regardless of the outcome he would be drinking himself to sleep tonight.

We sat huddled around a tall table right below a television screen and my face was right beside a picture of Anthony Rizzo’s butt--not that I was complaining. The whole lot of us was more than content with our situation.

“I won't say I'm a fan or anything like that,” Niall trailed off as he sat down beside me. He’d gotten up to talk to the manager, thank her for letting us ‘reserve’ our spot, basically and had missed Cleo’s screech singing and Harry’s falsetto. Liam, despite his nerves, decided to participate and sang quite loudly in that baritone voice of his.

“But?” I asked as he sipped his drink.

“But being part of these past few nights has been really great craic,” he said.

“Oh fork off with the Irish slang,” Louis teased as the commercial break ended and the bottom of the inning began. The Cubs were up 5-3 but had dropped game two after leading so we were all agreeing to be cautiously optimistic. Except for Liam who was just cautious.

“I will not fork off, mate,” Niall said. “In fact just for that, I'm going to speak Irish.” Niall took a large sip of his Guinness, almost as if to prove his Irish-ness.

“You don't even know your own language.” Louis rolled his eyes. “That's an empty threat.”

“I'd learn the language just to annoy the piss out of you,” Niall said.

“Honestly, I don't doubt that you would do that.” Louis smiled and held up his glass, which Niall then clinked his own glass against, a bright smile on his face. In fact, they both wore the same expression.

Ana’s face brightened considerably and I knew what that meant: food. Sure enough, when I looked up and followed her gaze a server was coming up to us with a tray loaded with food.

It was wonderful.

Truth be told though, I was too nervous to eat. Liam looked at the food as if just seeing it made him sick. I always felt like Liam and I did our best bonding when talking about--or watching--baseball. Sure we connected on other levels, but there was this level we occupied away from everyone else in the group.

I know Liam can be quick to judge and that to others he may seem critical and impatient, but truth be told he was anything but. He was judgy because he was protective of his friends, and critical because he was protective of himself. His impatience stemmed from dealing with children all day. When he was away from that environment he preferred not to waste time and energy and just move along. Loyalty was Liam’s biggest strong suit. He was never not supportive.

I loved bonding with Liam like this. Words weren’t needed. We just silently appreciated the similarities between us and that was more than enough. Liam and I were the perfect partnership when it came to watching baseball.

Everyone else started in on whatever they could get their hands on first though. From the corner of my eyes, I could see Niall. If I had learned anything about him in the two weeks or so that we’d been together, it was that he loved food. All food. He was a vacuum.

Nothing was going for the Cubs in the seventh so it went to commercial before the start of the eighth. Two more innings of pain and uncertainty.

One of the good things about the last six nights was Niall wearing a baseball cap every single night. I couldn't tell whether or not he was doing it on purpose because of me and what I'd said about him in a cap, or because it was one of the very few items of paraphernalia he owned. It could have been a combination of the two things.

Brian had cancelled self-defence classes on Thursday so I didn't have to come up with an excuse to be late to our viewing party. I was thankful for that. The gym had sent out an email that morning to all the members of the class and my discomfort over thinking up excuses just eased away with my morning tea as Louis flitted around the kitchen.

Although I didn’t have to stress over my making excuses with my friends, I could feel the extra tension in my shoulders from not going to the class this week. It felt wrong. I missed the routine of it, of going and being in a place where I was pretty sure everyone knew--from my bruising the first class--why I was there and why being there was important to me.

If the only person who really knew was Brian and I could be free and not have to worry about keeping it a secret, then not going was like shaking a bottle of soda until the top was bound to pop off and everything would spurt out in the messiest of fashions.

Even though Brian had mentioned a noticeable change in me before and after class, I hadn’t really paid attention to just how necessary the effects were in terms of getting through a week normally. I felt antsy these past few days. I felt like I was on the edge of my seat, metaphorically speaking, and that someone would come up at any moment and pull the seat out from under me. I wasn’t looking over my shoulder every ten seconds on my walk home or on my run over the weekends, but I did feel unsettled.

I didn’t know if my friends could tell. I was getting better at keeping the secret from them, I thought. Once the initial shock of the event wore off, it became second nature to keep it to myself. If they had noticed I was on edge though recently, maybe they attributed it to the series and my stress over the outcome. I suppose that gave me a good cloaking excuse for any noticeable tension and uncomfortable behaviour.

I had been worried that by getting closer with Niall that he would begin to notice my being off; however, I’d only know Niall as what I had dubbed Post-Attack Ruby--aka my new normal. I felt like that gave me a little bit more leeway with him.

“Shirt,” Liam cursed under his breath across the table from me.

I looked over at him and then up at the television. The score was now 5-4 as the inning shifted. We would have to either maintain or add to our lead in order to win. I’d been so lost in thought that I’d completely missed what had happened.

I felt a hand on my shoulder.

“You want anything?” Niall asked, his eyes watching me with concern as I shook off my thoughts and brought myself back into the present.

I looked down at the food on the table and made a face.

“I’m not all that hungry,” I said.

“No?” he asked, knowing I hadn’t eaten since lunch.

“I’m honestly too nervous to eat,” I said and glanced over at the screen. Still a commercial. I could breathe.

“Are you really?” he asked. I just looked at him. He smiled. “Six nights in and I still can’t believe you’re the type of person to get this nervous about baseball.”

I just shrugged while I thought about what he was saying. Even when I expressed my love for it, even when he’d teased me for being nervous the previous nights, he was still relatively new to the whole experience. He moved his hand from my shoulder to my back and leaned in and kissed my cheek.

I felt my face flush and refused to look up to see if any of our friends had seen him do it. I got hit with a napkin though and when I looked up to see who’d thrown it Cleo was giving me a smirk. I rolled my eyes and threw the napkin back at her before turning my eyes back to the television, but I had a smirk on my lips and the flush on my face as the game returned from commercial.

Adrenaline has a way of staying in your system long after the moment is over. After the euphoric yells and cheers that had bounded across the walls of the bar and echoed throughout the streets, after the songs had been sung and the celebratory beers had been downed, and the pictures in front of the stadium and the marquee had been taken I could still feel the adrenaline, the excitement as it coursed through me and gave me a jittery feeling, the good kind of jittery feeling.

Niall had walked me home. With the packed streets and the lights and the partying, it was now the early hours of the morning. I couldn’t care less that I had to be up in a few hours for my kickboxing class and then spend an entire day at work. I was on top of the world. I’d high fived so many strangers, taken pictures for others, and had just ridden a high the whole time.

I wasn’t regretting a moment of it, and I wouldn’t regret a moment of it when I woke up. I was genuinely happy at the moment. No stress, nothing to make me feel heavy, and no worries about anything… I felt light. I felt like I was walking on air as Niall held my hand and guided me through the crowded streets toward my apartment.

His cheeks had been flushed from the singing and the yelling--and the beers he’d downed--before. He was walking with a spring in his step as well, and he just listened to me as I talked through all big plays and moments from the game and doted on so many of the players. He’d nod and make affirmative sounds at all the right times, the amusement clear upon his fair features.

It was cold, colder than it had been the other night in the stadium, but with the alcohol and the excitement, I didn’t feel it. Even as the wind rushed past me, even as the leaves swirled around my feet, and my breath came out in puffs before me, I didn’t notice the cold that was trying to bite at my fingers and nip at my nose and cheeks. It was irrelevant to me in this state. Nothing could get to me.

When we got to my front door I bit my lip and once the door was open I turned to him. Seeing him in the baseball cap and the Cubs gear I couldn’t help myself. Maybe it was the adrenaline still, or maybe it was the high from the win, maybe it was the alcohol, but when I turned to say goodnight I opened my mouth and then closed it, and made a split second decision.

I grabbed him by his jacket, and pulled him inside with me, crashing my mouth against his as he tried to close the door behind himself. It took him a hot minute, his hands fumbling to complete the task while his eyes were closed and I pressed myself against him, my mouth moving against his, but the moment it was closed--and locked--his hands were on my waist as mine flew up to his face. One hand shifted and tangled itself in his soft hair, knocking his hat to the floor behind him and pulling a bit at the base of his neck, and one holding his cheek.

It felt feverish as he pushed me back against the wall and our bodies aligned, the entire lengths of us pressed together and causing a blaze to rip through me from my head down to my toes. His touch felt like it was going to chemically react with whatever fire was already going on inside me and I would explode. His fingers slipped under the hem of my shirt and their contact with my skin caused me to gasp against his lips.

He took the opportunity and before I could bring my brain up to speed with what was happening, his tongue was tangled with mine in an experience that was putting everyone I’d ever kissed before in my life to shame. How dare they kiss me and have been any less than this? It felt like this was truly the first time I’d really been kissed like this, every other boy, every other kiss fading from my memories until all that remained was Niall and the feeling he was inducing as we made out in my front entryway.

I tugged his hair a bit and he growled. I swear to god my knees buckled upon hearing it, feeling it against my lips as it escaped from him. I smirked against his mouth and tugged again.

“Fork,” he gasped out as I pulled my mouth from his and began kissing my way along his chin until I reached the spot behind his ear. He shivered when my teeth grazed the spot and my tongue followed after them.

“Jesus, Ruby.” His voice was ragged, and his chest was heaving against mine as our bodies fought to intake enough oxygen to sustain us at this moment. I could feel his pulse in my lips on his neck. It was racing.

I brought my lips back to his and I could taste the many pints of Guinness he’d had earlier just as he could surely taste the whiskey I’d downed. He took my bottom lip between his teeth and tugged. Without me telling it to, one of my legs came up and wrapped around his thigh, interlocking us together and pulling him closer yet.

With another shudder he brought one of his hands up to tangle in my hair as the other pushed my shirt up a bit more and settled in the small of my back, his large hand spanning the expanse of my back as he used the leverage to keep me as close as possible.

There was something that passed between us at that moment. The vulnerability of the moment perhaps, as I realised just how long it had been since I’d done this with someone where it wasn’t a fling or a one night deal. It could have been just that at that moment I realised how much I liked him. He had said many times that he wasn’t a baseball fan, had even made some mild complaints throughout the week about how boring it was to watch a game with that many commercial breaks, but here he was six nights later with me after having watched every game at my side.

He had put up with it for me--and our friends--and that made me realise that he’d been willing to do something he wouldn’t normally do because I was invested in the outcome. He had sacrificed his time to spend time with me and to try and understand something I felt passionate about. The thought alone sent a shiver through me as together we slowed our pace and our intensity began to mellow into lingering kisses that made my mind feel like goop.

I lowered my leg back down to the floor as Niall brought his hands to my cheeks, cupping my face gently.

“I love baseball,” Niall said when he eventually pulled away.

I laughed. I laughed like Niall. I felt my head fall back against the wall as my laugh echoed around the small space we occupied and he giggled as he watched my response. When I’d calmed down a bit I looked over his face.

His cheeks were flushed a bright pink, his lips a vibrant, delicious shade of red from our kisses. It was his eyes though that sent an electric shock up my spine. They were glistening in the low light and locked onto mine I felt like I could do anything, accomplish anything in the world. It was my favourite sight in the world, the sight before me.

“Thanks for walking me home,” I said. “And thank you for watching baseball every night for almost a week. I know it’s not your favourite despite your very recent declaration otherwise.”

“I mean, I still don’t understand it, but I honestly think I might be beginning to like it,” he said, his voice somehow both light with elation and gravelly from what we’d just done. The juxtaposition of it all stirred something in me and I had to resist pulling him back against me for round two.

“You don’t have to lie.”

“M’not lying.”

“Okay.” My tone conveyed my disbelief.

“I’ll see you on Tuesday?” he asked.

“I’ll see you on Tuesday.” I nodded. I watched as he disentangled himself from me--I instantly mourned the loss of his hand against my back--and bent to pick up his hat from the floor.

“Sleep well, Ruby.” The kiss he pressed against my lips was the sweetest thing I’d ever experienced. It was sweeter than the triple chocolate brownies Louis baked every Thursday. I felt the kiss through my entire body as he brushed his thumb against my cheek and pulled back.

I nodded as he opened my door and stepped out.

“Let me know when you get home safely,” I called out to him as he opened my gate.

He gave a nod and slipped the hat back on his head before heading off into the night.

#this chapter is literally me just writing a love letter to the cubs #and to baseball in general - but mostly the cubs #sorry not sorry #i still think it's an important chapter in terms of relationships across the board #fic: oth #fic: only ticket home #OTH11 #1dff

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write-havoc · 6 years

Text

This Is How I Disappear Ch. 33

Summary: A girl named Chuck finds herself in the exact place she doesn't want to be, living with violent men in a desolate nursing home. After her former gym teacher finds her, will he be the savior she was looking for?

Fandom: The Walking Dead AU

Pairing: Negan/Original Female Character

Status: Completed (story continues in The Flame Is Gone, The Fire Remains)

Contains: swearing, violence, sexual assault, blood, smut

Readers 18+ of age only

Masterlists in my bio

——— Negan’s POV ———

I point to Chuck’s plate and say, “Finish eating,” before I walk into my office. I grab the radio from my belt and put it up to my face. “Tell my men to stay the fuck out of sight and watch those fuckers. I need details before I make any more plans for those fuckin’ barbarians.”

“Copy that, sir.”

I pace around for a minute thinking about what fuckin’ needs to get done. How me and my men are gonna take those fuckers out. My office door opens and I turn my head toward the fuckin’ sound.

Simon walks in. “What’s the plan, boss?” I know he’s talking about the fuckin’ barbarians. He probably heard the message on the radio and headed this way to talk about what we’re gonna fuckin’ do.

I let out a sigh as I turn to him. “I want more men out there watching those motherfuckers. Send binoculars, rifles with scopes, shit like that so they can watch them. I want fuckin’ numbers. How many fuckin’ guys they got. If they got guard patrols. Who comes in and out and fuckin’ when. And I want fuckin’ eyes on those women. I want to know if they’re fuckin’...” I run my hand down my fuckin’ face. All the shit those fuckin’ dickwads are probably doing to those women goes through my mind. “I want to know if those girls are alive. Or hurt. And where the fuck they are in that house. If we need to fuckin’ barge in the place guns-a-blazing, I don’t want those girls to get caught in the crossfire.”

“Sure thing. I’ll get some guys together and they can head out within the hour. We got some of those night vision goggles and thermal cameras that we’ve never really used yet. They should come in real handy.”

“Yeah. I want to know everything about those fuckers before we make a move.”

“Are we gonna bring them back? Make an example outta them? Send a message?”

“Nah. We both know why they kidnapped those women. We’re neutralizing them the fuckin’ second we can and getting those girls back home. That’s the message we’re gonna send. We will defeat the big bads of this world.” I chuckle as I remember something Chuck once said to me. “We will defend the fair maidens. I want those hill-folk to know that. Cuz we are the fuckin’ Saviors, after all.”

Simon nods. “That we are.” He turns around and leaves. To carry out my fuckin’ orders like a good little boy.

I fuckin’ pace around my office, dragging my hand through my hair. We are going to get those fuckers. Those men are gonna fuckin’ pay for what they’ve done.

I walk back into the fuckin’ kitchen, but Chuck isn’t there. She must’ve finished up and went into my room. So that’s where I fuckin’ head.

I open the door and see that Chuck is bent over the fuckin’ coffee table, her hands on Lucille. It’s like she’s fuckin’ exploring her, running her fingers over her handle gently. Goddamn, it’s making my dick twitch. Chuck is looking at Lucille so fuckin’ intently that she doesn’t even notice that I’ve come into the room.

I watch her for a second before I speak the fuck up. “Whatcha doin’, princess?”

——— ———

Chuck finishes her last few bites of food and cleans up the plates from the table. She enters the bedroom and the first thing she sees is Lucille laying across the coffee table. With a bite of her lip, she looks behind her to make sure that Negan is still in the office.

I’ve never really been alone with Lucille before. I’ve never even touched her. I don’t know if Negan will be mad... but I’m just too curious.

Chuck bends over the table and runs her fingers up and down Lucille’s handle. She is smooth and almost velvety, from Negan’s near constant grip on her. Chuck brings her hand to her and grasps the bottom of the handle as her other hand ventures further up toward where the barbed wire wraps around her body.

“Whatcha doin’, princess?” Negan’s singsong voice comes from the doorway.

Chuck lets out a scream and jumps a mile as he startles her. In her fright, she accidentally pushes her finger into Lucille’s barbs, giving her a small puncture wound on the pad of her pointer finger.

“You scared me, Negan!” She brings her finger up to her face to inspect the wound. “And Lucille hurt me.”

“Shit, baby girl.” He walks up to her and takes her hand in his. “I didn’t mean to scare you,” he says with a smirk.

“Is she clean?”

Negan gives Chuck a look and then brings her hand to his face. “Of course she’s fuckin’ clean. You know I take good fuckin’ care of my girls.” He moves her finger to his mouth and places it to his lips. His tongue comes out to lightly lick her wound before finishing with a kiss to her finger.

Chuck scrunches her face up, but with a smile. “That’s kinda gross,” she giggles.

“It is?”

“You got my blood in your mouth.”

He puts his hand on her stomach. “You got my blood in your belly. So I say we’re fuckin’ even.”

She laughs. “I can’t argue with that logic, I guess.”

Negan goes into the bathroom and comes back out with an alcohol pad and a bandaid. He wipes her finger with the pad and puts the bandage on, putting a soft kiss on it after. He grasps the back of her head and pulls her into him, his lips meeting hers in a passionate kiss.

“What was that for?” she pulls back to ask.

“I’m sorry for scaring you.”

Chuck isn’t sure which one he means. The scare he gave her earlier or the one just now. “It’s okay, Negan.”

He kisses her again and it becomes heated easily. His hands travel under her shirt, grasping at her curves desperately. Her own hands rise to his face and hair with just as much fervor. Their clothes are quickly shed as they get into the bed.

Negan is frenetic, his hands squeezing at her body harshly and his teeth more than grazing at her neck and shoulders.

“Negan,” she gasps as he sucks hard on her neck. “Negan, don’t.” When he makes no attempt to stop, Chuck pulls back on his hair to wrench his head away from her neck. “What are you doing?” she asks with furrowed brows.

Negan’s breath is heavy as he brings a finger to the spot his lips had just left.

“I told you to stop and you didn’t listen.”

His eyes shoot up to hers and then look away. “You want me to stop?” He makes a move to get off her, but she holds him close.

“Not stop completely. I just don’t want you to leave a mark.”

He looks down at her with an intense expression. “I’m sorry, baby girl. I just fuckin’ need you right now.”

A wave of arousal goes straight to her core at his words. “Then have me.”

His lips are on hers before she even gets the words fully out. His tongue is insistent, battling its way into her mouth leaving her breathless.

He sits up on his spread knees and pulls her to him by her hips. “Please say you’re fuckin’ ready,” he breathes out.

“I’m ready, Negan.”

He plunges into her without further warning, making her cry out slightly. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful taking my dick,” he growls as he runs his hands up her torso. He grasps her waist tightly to hold her still as he pounds into her from his position on his knees.

“God, Negan!” she moans as she slides her hands up his arms and clutches onto his biceps. “Mmm.”

Chuck becomes aware of how Negan’s movement causes her breasts to shake. She moves her hands up to still them, thinking that the sight of her jiggling all over the place is probably unflattering.

Negan grabs her wrists and pins them by her shoulders as he continues to thrust into her. “Goddamnit, Chuck. I love watching your fuckin’ tits bounce. Don’t hide that shit from me.”

His intense gaze and gruff words is just enough to push her over the edge.

“Ah, Negan!”

“Fuck, baby.” He lets go of one of her wrists and slides his hand down her cheek and to her neck, snaking his fingers around her throat. “I’m gonna cum so hard inside that tight fuckin’ pussy of yours. You want that, princess?”

“Yes, Negan.”

He pounds into her even faster. “Feels so fuckin’ good, don’t it?”

“Yes!”

“Your pussy gonna cum all over my fuckin’ cock again?”

“Ah! Mmm yes, Negan!”

“Fuck. Fuck!” He thrusts hard and fast until his rhythm falters and he releases his seed deep within her.

Feeling Negan cum triggers Chuck’s second orgasm. She wraps her legs around his hips as she rides out her climax, screaming his name.

Negan collapses beside her on the bed, breathing heavily as he wipes his forehead. “Fuck, that was good.”

She giggles as she catches her breath. “Mmhmm.”

They both lay there, coming down from their highs. Chuck looks over to Negan to see that his eyes are closed making him look almost peaceful. Him looking so serene makes her think about what had happened today. How Negan had been upset at the thought that Chuck was miscarrying. And what he said about Lucille’s miscarriages. And then this. Chuck had enjoyed herself and Negan seemed to, as well, but he seemed desperate and almost out of control.

“Negan?” Chuck whispers.

“Hm,” he grunts in response.

“Are you okay?”

He smiles and opens his sleepy eyes slowly. “Fuck yeah, I’m okay.” His voice is raspy with sleep. “Don’t worry about me, baby girl.”

“I just... I want you to know that you can talk to me about anything. We’re in this together, you know.”

He brings his hand up to caress her cheek and smiles. “That’s right. We’re in this together. You and me.” He kisses her softly and puts his forehead to hers. His expression gets serious. “Chuck, I...” He sighs. “I...”

Chuck can tell that he is struggling to say something to her, though what it is, she’s not sure. She knows he has pent up fears about her losing the baby. And she figures that he may have fears about becoming a father, just like she does of becoming a mother. But he very rarely talks about his feelings. She wants to encourage him to let it all out. To open up to her more.

“You can tell me, Negan. You can tell me anything. We’re friends. That’s what friends are for.” She gives him a gentle smile, but his face drops.

Negan backs away from Chuck and gets off the bed, pulling on his underwear once he finds them.

“Negan?” Chuck asks, confused at his sudden change in demeanor. He almost seems angry now.

“I have some shit to do before tomorrow. Don’t wait up.” He never meets her gaze and leaves the room, heading for his office.

“Okay,” Chuck says quietly, mostly to herself as she pulls the blankets over her and lays back on the pillows.

——— Negan’s POV ———

Goddamnit!

I’m so fuckin’ pissed. I just have to get away from Chuck. I can’t look at her anymore, so I fuckin’ go into my office. I’ll find some shit to do to keep my mind off of her. And what she said.

Friends. We’re friends . I was this fuckin’ close to telling her I love her and she says we’re friends. That’s what she fuckin’ said. Fuckin’ friends!

That word has never ripped anyone’s heart out like it fuckin’ did mine. I don’t want to be fuckin’ friends with her. I want her to love me. Love me like I love her. Love me like a fuckin’ partner. Like a goddamn husband!

Why won’t she? Why the fuck won’t she?! I’ve done everything for her. I saved her fuckin’ life! I give her every-fuckin’-thing she could ever want. What fuckin’ more can I do?! What the fuck does she want from me?!

Fuck! I don’t wanna fuckin’ think about this anymore.

I sit down at my desk and start to think about what the fuck I’m gonna do with those goddamn barbarians. My men should be watching them and getting my fuckin’ numbers for me. I’m pretty sure I’m gonna fuckin’ head out tomorrow and come up with a formal fuckin’ plan for taking those fuckers out. Once I see what I’m dealing with out there.

After about an hour, I decide to go to fuckin’ bed. But I don’t want to go back in my goddamn room, so I just sleep on the couch in my fuckin’ office.

I get woken up the next morning by a fuckin’ cat walking all over my goddamn face. And another one clawing me way too fuckin’ close to my dick.

“Get the fuck off me,” I growl and they jump down.

It’s just after fuckin’ sunrise. I slept pretty shitty, but I know I’m not getting back to fuckin’ sleep now.

I go back into my room to get dressed. There is just enough light coming through the windows that I can see Chuck all spread out on my bed. Her hair is all wild across my pillows, looking red as fuck in the morning light. She must’ve kicked the fuckin’ blanket off in her sleep because the sheet is the only thing covering her. And that is just barely. Her bigass titties are on full display. She always had nice fat tits, but those pregnancy hormones have made them even bigger.

And I can see just the side of her fuckin’ little chubby belly. It isn’t much different from what she fuckin’ looked like after she gained some weight back, but I can tell my baby is changing her stomach already.

Fuck, she’s gorgeous.

All the shit I thought about last night suddenly goes through my mind, which pisses me off all over again. I finish getting ready, grab Lucille, and leave my fuckin’ apartment without saying anything to Chuck. I just don’t want to deal with that shit anymore.

I head to Simon’s room. I gotta talk with him about this fuckin’ barbarian situation. Shit’s gonna go down with them, probably tonight, so I need to get shit planned with him.

I knock on his door, but he doesn’t answer right away. “Come on, Simon. Get the fuck up.”

He opens the door wearing just his crusty ass boxers. “Shit, man. I just got into bed like four hours ago.”

“Tough shit.” I push past him and go into his room, turning on his light before I sit the fuck at his table. “I want to talk to you about what the fuck we’re gonna do with the barbarians.”

Simon closes his door and turns back to me. “I never signed on to be up at fuckin’ dawn.”

I lean Lucille on my chair and give Simon the “boohoo” face.

“Dick,” he mutters and plops his ass down across from me.

“I’m probably gonna be heading out to get eyes on that fuckin’ group myself here sometime, so... Whatcha think?”

Simon yawns. “I don’t know. Kill the shit out of ‘em.” He shrugs.

“That’s fuckin’ helpful,” I bite back sarcastically.

“Well, I know as much as you do at this point. And it’s not that much. And I just fuckin’ woke up! You’re the early bird. I’m the night owl.”

“You pussy-“ I get interrupted by my radio.

“Negan, sir? ”

I pick up my radio. “Yeah? Go on.”

“The group watching those barbarians just checked in. They said that group has about a dozen men. And they haven’t seen any women.”

I scrub at my jaw. “Get word to them that I’ll be headed out there. We’re gonna put those motherfuckers down today ,” I say into my radio.

“Copy that, sir.”

I give Simon a fuckin’ smirk. “Looks like you woulda been waking the fuck up anyway. Since I’m gonna be heading the fuck out right now.”

“Yeah, yeah. Let me get some damn pants on.”

An hour later, me and twenty of my saviors are on the road to rendezvous with my guys already at that farmhouse. We park off the main road and meet with a few of my guys. They lead us up a dirt road and into the fuckin’ woods which are thick enough to cover us. I fuckin’ hate hiking in the goddamn woods, so I’m relieved to see the rest of the scouting party scoping out the farmhouse. It’s a few hundred yards away and down a hill. Which means we have a real good fuckin’ vantage point.

“Anything fuckin’ going on?” I ask quietly to no one in particular.

“They’ve just been fucking around,” TJ answers. “Haven’t gone in or out yet, really.”

“They must’ve gotten enough shit from Hilltop, so they’re kicking the fuck back. Let’s plan on attacking tonight when they lay their fuckin’ heads down. Catch ‘em off guard. But before then, we need to find where those girls are in that house.”

“We’ve heard them,” one of TJ’s crew announces sadly. “Screaming... But we haven’t seen them.”

Fuck.

TJ adds, “They must be in a basement or cellar. Away from any windows.”

“Shit,” I say under my breath. “Well. We’re just gonna have to try to get in there and swiftly take those fuckers out all at once. If they get a whiff of an attack, they might kill those girls just to be done with them.”

“What’s the play, sir?” TJ asks. “We’ve been all around the house. Except the front where the fields are. The woods are pretty dense on the three sides, so we got options of where to attack from. And all the snipers have scoped out the best places to perch already.”

“They have guards fuckin’ patrolling at night?”

“Not on the grounds. But they had at least one lookout awake all night long. Sometimes two.”

“Hmm.” I rub my beard. “You think you snipers can take them out quick and quiet-like so we can move in.”

“Yes, sir,” Todd, my head sniper answers for his group. I have four of my best guys out here just for this situation. “We got nests with vantages on all sides of the house. And it has those old big windows, so we can see into every room.” He puts his hands on his hips. “This building really is an indefensible nightmare.”

“Better for us,” I respond. “Get your guys set up and watching,” I say to Todd. “We’re gonna watch these fuckers until they go down for the night. Once the snipers radio in that they have a shot on the lookouts, we’ll start to move the fuck in on all sides. When the lookouts are down, we enter the house. We take the men out first. Make it fuckin’ quick and quiet. Knives only. No guns unless necessary. There are, what, twelve men?”

“Eleven,” TJ answers.

“Eleven men we gotta put the fuck down before we even look for those girls. I do. not. want. one of those men to escape us and kill those girls just to be a dick. Got it?”

Everyone agrees.

“So let’s get settled the fuck in and watch these fuckers.”

We watch them all fuckin’ day and it is boring as fuck. These douchebags are just fuckin’ around, apparently sitting pretty with all the shit they’ve stolen.

And they are dumb motherfuckers. They must’ve gotten into a cache of booze somewhere and they’re all fuckin’ drunk as shit.

“Shit. This is gonna be fuckin’ easy,” I say aloud.

“Yeah,” TJ chuckles. “How are these guys still alive?”

We wait for them all to pass out and get in position. We get word from the snipers that the lookouts are in position, one in the dining room on the first floor and one in a bedroom on the second floor. Right the fuck in front on the windows. Like the dumbasses they are. All the other men are spread out among the fuckin’ bedrooms on the second floor and the living room on the first.

We all head for the house and wait for the fuckin’ signal from the snipers. They don’t shoot through the windows because the sound would wake everyone the fuck up; they wait for the lookouts to move and then shoot them through the wall. They have powerful fuckin’ rifles just for the job.

I hear the first fuckin’ shot from my sniper. It’s not that loud, probably can’t be heard at all from inside the goddamn house. Two clicks come from radios, signaling that the upstairs lookout is fuckin’ dead. Then another shot and one click for the downstairs one.

I leave most of the men to surround the house outside and take six in with me. We move fuckin’ silently into the house, not wanting to wake the three guys in the living room passed out on the couches. My men take them out quickly with fuckin’ knives to the skull.

There are six left upstairs. We get two men on the staircase to start to go the fuck up there when we hear someone moving.

Fuck.

“Holy shit! He’s dead!” comes from above us.

Before my men can get off the staircase, shots ring out and they fall to the ground fuckin’ dead.

“Goddamnit! Get cover!” I yell and scramble back into the living room. We see a head peek around the wall at the top of the stairs and return fire. Those fuckers aren’t coming down here without a fight.

My saviors from outside try to come through the front door, but it’s directly in front of the staircase. The fuckers on the second floor shoot down at them, keeping them from entering. My guys leave, I assume to go around to the back door.

I hear glass shatter and something heavy hit the ground directly overhead.

“They got snipers!”

“That’s right motherfucker!” I yell out. “You’re outgunned and outplayed. So why don’t you come downstairs with your hands up and things’ll go better for you.”

It’s quiet upstairs for a few seconds. Then, another fuckin’ window shatters and someone cries out.

“You’re losing men up there!” I taunt. “The smart play is to give up now.” It isn’t, cuz I’m gonna kill the fuckers, regardless. But it’ll be quicker for me if they give the fuck up.

I hear shots ring out from the back of the fuckin’ house. Those fuckers must be shooting at my men, keeping them from coming in through the back.

I’m pretty sure a few of the guys are camping out in the hallway beside the top of the stairs and will shoot the shit outta us if we try to go up there. I gesture to a couple of my men and show them that I want them to shoot up through the goddamn floor. Hopefully killing those fuckers.

I hold my fingers up and count down. At one, my men fire into the ceiling in short fuckin’ bursts, spraying the area with bullets. I hear a loud growl and a hiss, so I know we hit at least one of those cocksuckers. Through our gunshots, I can hear more shit shattering on the other side of the house. My snipers are still fucking shit up for them.

All the shit they’re dealing with upstairs must’ve distracted them from my men out fuckin’ back because some of them come rushing into the house. The rest stay outside to guard the place.

“Stop!” a voice yells out above us.

I gesture to my men to stop shooting.

“Yes?” I call out all smug as shit.

“What do you want?”

“I am a gentleman and I will not negotiate by screaming through a goddamn wall. So why don’t you come the fuck down here and we can talk face to face?”

“There’s only three of us left and two of us are shot.”

“So? Throw ‘em down the fuckin’ stairs if they can’t walk. I don’t give a shit,” I call back.

It’s quiet for a few minutes before I hear back from them. “Okay. We’re coming down.”

“Make sure you leave those fuckin’ guns up there,” I yell back.

All my men in the living room and in the dining room doorway on the other side train their guns to the goddamn staircase. Two hands emerge from the top first, then the rest of the arms.

“Nice and fuckin’ slow,” I direct at them.

The three of them, one bleeding from his right shoulder, one limping from a shot to the calf, come down the staircase and into the living room.

“On your knees, fuckers.”

They comply and the uninjured one starts to beg. “We got shit upstairs. You can take it. Leave us be, let us be on our way. That’s a good deal.”

“Hmm.” I scratch my chin like I’m considering it. “We’re gonna take your shit.”

The guys let out sighs of relief. “Oh, thank you. Thank-“

“Whoa there, cowboy! I wasn’t finished. We’re gonna take your shit. And that fuckin’ includes those women you kidnapped. Now, stealing shit? That’s pretty much the way of the land. I couldn’t give two fucks if all that shit you got you stole. But kidnapping women?” I wiggle my finger in the air. “Tsk tsk tsk. That, I give a ton of fucks about.” I look to my men. “Don’t waste any more bullets. Beat the fuck outta them.”

My saviors descend on those fuckers, dealing out brutal deaths with their fists and the heel of their boots. I leave them to it to look for the fuckin’ basement door with a couple of my guys. I enter the kitchen in the back of the house and see a door with a padlock on it.

“Break it,” I command to anyone that can do it. Someone produces a crowbar and pries the bracket from the door.

We go down the stairs and before we can see anything, we hear fuckin’ whimpers. We descend further and I can see that it’s and unfinished, dirt floor cellar. And there are six naked, scared, beaten to shit women chained to the support poles.

As soon as they see us they start to move as far away from us as they can.

I hold my hands up and speak gently. “It’s okay. Hilltop asked us to find you. Those fuckers upstairs are all dead.”

“Hilltop?” one of the women repeats then starts to sob. “We’re going home?”

“Yeah, sweetheart.” I get closer to the women and lift up the chains around the poles. There are fuckin’ handcuffs on the ends that are around the girls’ wrists. “One of those psychos have a key?”

They nod.

I turn back to one of my guys. “Search them. And find some clothes.”

“Th-Thank you, sir,” one of the girls says quietly. She’s fuckin’ young. Probably not out of her fuckin’ teens. It breaks my heart.

“I was told there were four of you,” I say more like a question.

One of them, a tall dark haired middle aged woman answers, “They were here already.” She looks to the three girls further away from me. “One of ours... She bit one of them and th-they killed her.”

“Where are you ladies from?” I ask the other ones gently. All three of them are young. Younger than the ones from Hilltop. And skinnier.

The black one answers. “We had a small group not far from here.” She clears her throat like it’s dry. “They killed everyone else and brought us here.”

“Shit,” I whisper to myself. “I’m so fuckin’ sorry there’s filth like those fuckers in this world.”

My guys come back in carrying some clothes and some bottles of water. I take the key from one of them and start to uncuff the girls.

“You girls are safe now. We’re gonna take y’all back to Hilltop. Get you girls all patched up and fuckin’ fed.”

We get the women all situated and gut the house of useful shit then hit the road. By the time we get to Hilltop, it’s almost morning. The hill-folk set us up in some fuckin’ rooms and we sleep for the rest of the short night.

The next morning, we eat fuckin’ good, then I meet with Gregory and Jesus to discuss our payment. And our future.

“We have everything we agreed to pay you waiting outside,” Gregory informs me.

“Good,” I start. “I lost two good men on this fuckin’ mission, you know.”

“Oh, uh. I’m sorry to hear that.” This fucker can’t even sound fuckin’ genuine for one goddamn minute.

“Well. It’s fuckin’ shitty. But your women are back. And you have a few more.”

“Oh, yes! We’re very grateful.”

I let out a huff. “This little mission was just a... get-to-know-you, of sorts. You got to know us. Now we start our actual fuckin’ relationship.”

Gregory looks to Jesus and then back to me. “Wh-What do you have in mind?”

“I’m thinking that you lot are lucky as fuck that you’re still here. Those men that killed your best fighters, were goddamn dumbasses. If they could get to you, then another group with the tiniest amount of fuckin’ brain power could decimate your shit here.”

Gregory holds his hands out like he’s going to make a fuckin’ point. “Now, we have a good setup-“

I put my hand up to silence him. “You have good fuckin’ people. But good fuckin’ people aren’t necessarily good at fuckin’ surviving. So here’s my deal.” I lean forward. “My men will patrol the area. Permanently. They will keep the dead from your gates and on the occasion that a group with more than two fuckin’ brain cells to rub together comes sniffing around, my men will take care of that, too. And for this ongoing service I will be providing, you will pay us an ongoing fee.”

Gregory looks back to Jesus again. “Uh... well.”

Jesus steps forward now. Thank fuck. “That sounds like a good deal.”

Gregory butts back in. “Now, Jesus. We can’t go giving our goods away.”

I jump up, grab Lucille from the seat beside me, and thrust her into Gregory’s face. “I lost two of my men because you fucks can’t handle your shit!” He instantly cowers back into his seat. “Two. good. men,” I growl.

“Negan,” Jesus says in that calm fuckin’ voice of his. “A deal between our two groups can be made.”

I slowly turn my head to Jesus and then sit back down, Lucille still in my fuckin’ hands. “Alright. Just a portion of what you produce in a week. I’ll start off on fuckin’ faith with you here. What you think is fair for the service we’re providing.” I turn my head back to fuckin’ Gregory. “Okay?”

“Y-Yes. Uh... That sounds good.”

“Great,” I deadpan. “Now, I’m gonna go mingle with you fine fuckin’ people.” I get up. “One week and I’ll return for our little date.” I go to the door but turn back around to Gregory. “And I don’t put out for free.”

I walk out of the building and instantly people are on me. The hill-folk are trying to shake my fuckin’ hands, yelling “thank you” at me. What happened last night apparently made the rounds to everyone. I let them all crowd around me. Pat their shoulders and shit.

They finally get it out that they want us to stay to have a big fuckin’ feast as a thank you to me. I agree because, obviously, I’m gonna let them make a feast for me. Fuck yeah, I am! We can head the fuck home afterwards.

They all disperse to go back to their fuckin’ jobs and I wander around a bit talking to random ass people about random ass things. Then Lisa, the fuckin’ pregnant lady walks up to me with another woman.

“Well, shit! Look at you! That little shit being good to his momma?” I greet her.

She laughs. “He’s still kickboxing up a storm! I wanted to introduce you to my sister, Dana.” She gestures to the woman. She’s a little on the short side. And fuckin’ curvy, but all on the bottom. Olive skin and black curly hair. Already giving me 'fuck me' eyes.

My lips curve up into a slow smirk. “Well, hello there, Dana,” I rasp. “It’s nice as fuck to meet you.”

#negan #negan fanfiction #negans thirst squad #negan x oc #negan x ofc #negan x original female character #negan / ofc #negan / oc #negan / original female character #jdm #jeffrey dean morgan #the walking dead fanfiction #the walking dead au #the walking dead #this is how i disappear #tihid #writehavoc writes #writehavoc this is how i disappear

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creamypudding · 5 years

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WIP Clack sneak peek

Hi,

I’ve decided to upload a sneak peek of my WIP Clack story. I’m currently on writing chapter 8 and I think the story might have 10 chapters, so I’m sort of nearing the end mark, but also still a fair way off completion because a lot of editing needs to be done. I’m currently re-reading everything that I’ve written so far to get my head around the timeline, which I had no clue about when I first started writing it, so now I’m making minor adjustments (read: major edits) to the previous chapters before moving on to chapter 8. It’s my form of procrastination because chapter 8 is a POV change, which is notoriously difficult on my soul. So, while there is no guarantee that this chapter 1 will look exactly like this when I get to posting the whole story, it should still be a very close approximation once I’m done with everything. I am happy to share this bit and hope to pique your interest in this AU. This story will explore mental health issues, like PTSD and body dysphoria. The main setting is in a hospital, so set expectations accordingly. Title: Silver Lining (working title) Chapter: 1 Fandom: FFVII - Modern AU Pairing: Cloud/Zack Rated: Teen Word Count: 10,232 Summary: Cloud is a delivery driver and one day gets a very specific job to complete, which sends him to the brink of discomfort, but leaves the door open for something very wonderful to potentially bloom.

CHAPTER 1 - Despite the winter sun being at its low-hanging apex, and this region never getting any snow, it was still cold. The frosty air gnawed and bit into the tip of Cloud’s nose, blasted against and stiffened his glove-covered fingers, and caused shivers to wrack his body. Winter wasn’t the best time of year to ride his motorcycle, but his passion for his vehicle outweighed the seasonal discomfort. He was as rugged up as he could be with his helmet and scarf underneath, multiple shirts, and a sweater under his riding jacket, and thermals under the leather pants to keep his lower limbs warm, yet Cloud looked forward to arriving at work, which he usually did around midday, where he would hop into the familiar white and blue delivery van with its air conditioner, funky smell, worn leather seating, and sticky patches all over the dashboard caused by spilled coffee.

He lived about half an hours ride from work and arrived at the two-story brick warehouse in a business district of the sprawling metropolis. He rode around the back of the large, empty lot, to the garage capable of housing five vans and parked his bike near the wall. He left his helmet hanging on the handlebars and headed through the lofty loading zone, past the only vehicle still reminding (his own) and to the door and into the heated office space beyond. With a relieved sigh he pulled his gloves off and rubbed them together to regain feeling and warmth.

Tifa gave the usual teasing greeting of, "Hello, Cloud. Sleep well?" which forced a grumbled unintelligible retort from him. He headed straight for the left side of the sparsely decorated rectangular room. A long, mid-chest high cupboard stood along the wall with five color-coded plastic double-letter trays atop of it. This was their duty roster system. The top tray houses his schedule for the day, and the bottom one held his payslips and things of that nature. A large whiteboard hung on the wall right above the cupboard with each employee’s details demarcated to line up with their specific letter-trays.

He grabbed his sheet of paper, listing addresses and delivery times, and stalked off to the van, grabbing the held out travel mug which Tifa had filled with hot coffee. “Thanks,” he muttered while she smiled at him with amusement. Cloud counted his blessings that Tifa was understanding of his late starts to the day and his sporadic-yet-far-too-common absences.

Cloud sank into his familiar seat, leaving the bright pink folder on his lap and cradled his mug. It warmed his icy hands and as he slowly sipped the liquid it gave him the energy to recuperate from the arduous task of having woken up this morning and gotten himself out of bed. He skimmed over his list of jobs for the day at a casual pace, set his GPS and then headed off to get his workday underway.

His day consisted of a sizeable amount of pick-ups and drop-offs. Small and large parcels and goods alike. Usually, he’d radio Gavin or Therone to see if he could get more jobs, but today he felt extra drained so just stuck to what was on his sheet. He drove to familiar businesses and places, and some new locations. One of these was somewhat out of the way. Cloud took a left turn onto the freeway and headed out of the metropolitan area. The scenery grew ever more rural and then downright quaint; cows and horses dotted fields, small bakeries and one-pump gas stations came and went.

The road, though no less busy, lacked maintenance and pot-holes great and small peppered it. The place he was after was on the main road and turned out to be a giant greenhouse. He pulled into the large expansive gravel forecourt, and to his surprise found the car park almost completely full. People came and went, carrying gardening equipment and flowers of all sorts of shapes and colors. He pulled into a parking space, and got out, heading for the large glass structure. For being so out-of-the-way of the major population centers, it sure was bustling.

As Cloud entered through a set of glazed double doors, and then another set of automated sliding doors to get into the building proper, he was instantly accosted by the perfuming fragrant smell of flowers, as well as a very comfortable warmth. Winter didn’t touch this botanist’s wet dream and it almost felt tropical. Cloud sneezed. Repeatedly.

He was reminded that flowers weren’t his friends, though he could still appreciate the botanical marvel he found himself in. Flowers and plants of all shapes, sizes, species, and colors grew absolutely everywhere. A lot were set in pots, but an equal number were also growing seemingly right from out of the soiled and mulched ground. It smelled like earth and damp. Not a wholly unpleasant smell. It's just the flowers that got Cloud sniffling like crazy.

He still sneezed when a friendly voice sounded next to him, “Here. My flowers have that effect on some people.”

Cloud turned and took the held out tissue with a, “Thanks,” and blew his nose. Once back in control of his body's reflexes he looked at the short-in-stature woman who had spoken to him; her brunette hair was tied in a ponytail, with wavy bangs falling wall past her shoulders. Her eyes, a vibrant green, sparkle and seemed enhanced by the rusty red of her mid-waist length cardigan, which sat over the top of a blue and white striped blouse. Her look of a homey farm-girl was completed by the soiled, three-quarter denim trousers and big brown boots. “Your flowers?' Cloud asked, "Are you the owner?”

The woman grinned brightly and gave a curt nod. She looked around, with a lot of pride. “This place is my life’s work. Growing and cultivating plants of all types has always been my dream. And of course, sharing the joy this life brings with it.” Green eyes returned to settle on Cloud once more.

Cloud thought her rather pretty. He wasn’t sure if it was her features or her passion for her work. Whichever the case, she seemed rather too cheerful. “For a profit though,” he said, not caring to disguise the sardonic tone.

“Well of course. Girl’s gotta eat, right?” she laughed. “Name’s Aerith Gainsborough. Welcome to my greenhouse. How can I help you?”

She stuck out her hand and Cloud took it. “Cloud Strife. I’m here to pick up a delivery,” he said with little expression to his face. Being around jovial people exhausted him. He could already feel his energy draining away and mentally scanned his brain to see if he had passed any coffee shops on the way here.

“Oh, wonderful! I’ve been expecting you. Come this way.” She turned on a dime, her ponytail swinging wildly and marched with a slight bounce to her step.

Cloud followed.

“It’s such awful news what happened to Zack,” she began, rather worriedly. “I absolutely hate not being able to go see him, but I’m flat out here. So many weddings and government ceremonies to plan for. My own delivery guys are all booked up for the next few months, and the hospital is too far away for me to get to on such short notice,” she muttered somewhat defeated.

Despite not knowing what she was talking about, he reveled in seeing some of that cheer strip away from the woman. He possessed an inherent distrust of cheerful people, for cheer was a disguise best reserved for shop-front clerks who wanted to flog you something. It wasn’t for real-life, flesh-and-blood people. Real people had their own shit lives and problems to deal with. That’s what he told himself at least. He had always found it paid off to be wary of the too happy and enthusiastic. He could relate to the woman more in her slightly soured state though. Yet not too much to engage in actual conversation with her.

They made their way into a large shipping container, housed off to the side. This was apparently the office area if the desk with a computer sitting on it, and the various cork boards and whiteboards propped up on portable stands, meant anything. The other thing that Cloud spotted was the very elaborate bouquet sitting on the desk.

“Besides, I’m sure he’ll have far too many visitors for me to be able to spend any quality time with him.” Aerith reached the desk with the bouquet sitting on top of it and came to pause before it. She stretched out an arm as if steadying herself against the table.

The quiet which followed unsettled Cloud somewhat. The bubbly energy seemed depleted.

“Uh, is everything alright?” he tried, merely as a courtesy.

Cloud heard the sniffle, and saw the motion which could only be a wipe at eyes. Aerith turned around, cheeks ruddy and eyes glassy. She gave a weepy smile. “No. It’s not, but I hope it will be very soon. I really wish I could go be with him. He needs someone to look after him.” “I thought you said he was in hospital. Isn’t that—”

“He needs some love. Some care. From people who genuinely care about him. I know the hospital staff do their best, but they’re just staff.” She sniffled some more, grabbed the bouquet and walked it over to Cloud. “If it’s alright with you, I’d like for you to make regular flower deliveries for me. I don’t know if he’s conscious or not, but I want his room to be full of color. I want him to not feel alone. So please bring this to him.” She handed the surprisingly heavy item over. “And I’d also like for you to be my regular delivery guy. I don’t want Zack to have to put up with not getting to know you.”

Cloud grunted and pulled a face. “Getting to know me?”

“Yes. You’ll be my proxy.”

“I'm just a delivery guy. Not an… escort, or… friend for hire,” he said with unease. Cloud definitely hadn’t signed up for this.

“I know that. I'm not asking you to do anything other than deliver my flowers to him. But when you meet him I'm sure you won't be able to avoid having conversations with him.” Aerith’s growing smile faltered, and sadness swept through, robbing her of any mirth which might have burgeoned. “Oh gosh, let him be alright,” she said to no one in particular. “Tifa said it would be alright for you to check in on him regularly and to give me updates when you come to pick up the flowers.”

“Did she now?” Cloud said with derision and barely kept the eye roll at bay.

Aerith nodded and started walking back out into the main building, and Cloud continued to follow.

The pungent smell of flowers accosted Cloud once more as they made their way back to the front of the greenhouse. A sinking feeling grew. “You know Tifa personally?”

“Oh yes. We’ve been friends for years. She’s told me lots about you.” Aerith threw a cheeky smile over her shoulder, back at Cloud.

Without a doubt, this had all been an elaborate set-up. He let a defeated sigh slip out and wondered if this Zack guy was even an actual patient. “More like she complains about me to you.”

“Oh no. Nothing like that.” Her laugh was like the tinkling of bells.

Cloud still knew that it was exactly like that. “Well, she’s never made mention of you,” he sulked.

His remark made Aerith spin around. Her smile radiated ever so brightly. “I’m pretty sure she has and you just never listen to her,” she giggled and gently pushed her palm against his shoulder.

Cloud couldn’t refute that. It seemed like a very reasonable assumption.

“Anyway, can you just wait here a moment. This bouquet is missing something.” Aerith dashed off, leaving Cloud’s nose to develop another irritating tickle.

The pungent flower smells aside, he also knew this whole situation reeked of something, but he didn’t know what. Well, perhaps he did know. Of course Tifa purposefully sent him on this delivery run. She was always trying to get him to be more social and make friends. Something which Cloud had no interest in doing. He thought it cruel to force friendship upon him with some guy who sounded bedridden. And to be fair, he felt it equally awful to force himself onto other people. Cloud hoped that if this Zack guy truly was sick that he would get well soon. That way Cloud wouldn’t have to visit for very long, saving them both the agony of playing at a fake friendship.

Aerith returned holding a few brilliantly vibrant yellow flowers. She stuck them into the bouquet, which mostly consisted of blues and purples.

“There. Some much needed complementary opposites.” She stepped back from her creation and admired it. “I hope he’ll love it.” Worry returned to her face. “I hope he’s okay. Please tell him I’ll visit as soon as I can if he’s awake.” Aerith looked like she was going to say more but clapped her mouth shut and shook her head. “No. I won’t bombard you with any more. Everything I need to tell him is in the card. Please see to it that he receives the flowers, and I look forward to seeing you next time.”

Cloud gave her a courteous nod. “Next time, then.” He knew that no amount of complaining to Tifa would get him off this roster duty. She probably had also talked to everyone else at work to make sure he couldn’t swap delivery duties, that’s how crafty she was.

_____________

The hospital Cloud drove to was a familiar destination. He parked around the loading bay, avoiding the large conglomerate of media stationed out the front of the main entrance. The hustle and bustle out the front of the hospital, though not completely foreign, was still a little strange. Cloud wondered for all of two seconds what famous or newsworthy person had ended up inside before he refocused on his job. He grabbed the bouquet and marched himself inside, making his way to the nurses station, as Aerith apparently hadn’t known the exact location of the recipient of her gift. He had done a fair few deliveries to the different wards in the past, which was why a fair few of the regular staff knew him by sight and gave him acknowledging nods as he passed.

“Oh, those are lovely. Who are they for, darl?” an elderly and a rather plump woman greeted Cloud warmly as he stood by the imposing desk.

“Evening, Barbara.” Cloud didn't have many friends to speak of, but most people he came into somewhat regulate contact with were friendly enough with him, and he reciprocated as much as possible. It's not like he hated people. It had more to do with him being too tired and exhausted most of the time to exert energy into keeping friends around. “They are for a—” he looked at the attached card for the last name. “Zack Fair.”

“Oh. He’s a right popular chap. I wish they would have sent him to a different hospital, to be honest with you. Maybe Golden Oak or Edgewater. That media pack out the front is driving everyone here crazy.”

“What? All those people out there are here for him?” A sinking feeling swept through Cloud. He didn’t deal well with being in the limelight, not even via loose association.

The head nurse gave a sullen nod. “Them out the front aren’t even half of it. Military folks have been in and out of the ICU all day. Day shift have had it up to here,” she gestured well above her head, “with all the kafuffle.”

Barbara’s words caused a rush of irritation to flurry inside of Cloud. He wrinkled his nose. “Military?”

She hummed in the back of her throat and shuffled through some papers at her station. “Mr. Fair is military personnel, or I guess that should be Corporal Fair? Is that how those titles are supposed to work?”

It took everything in Cloud’s power not to dump the flowers and leave. “Don’t they have a military hospital for this kind of stuff?” he grumbled through grit teeth, already knowing that the answer was ‘yes’.

“Apparently it wasn’t good enough for the injuries he’s sustained. He’ll be needing long term care and rehabilitation, and they aren’t cut out for that.”

“Ah—that bad, huh?” Some of the irritation quelled with a wash of sympathy.

Barbara gave a solemn nod. “Here, darl. There has been nothing else on the news all day.” She directed her gaze toward a television mounted on the wall to the right of the desk and turned the volume up a little.

Cloud hadn’t watched the news in what felt like months. It was always too depressing. “They let you watch TV?”

“Only the news channels, so we can be atop of any breaking disasters or crisis as they unfold.”

“Ah. Seems sensible enough.” Cloud turned his attention toward the news coverage. It was a lot of body cam footage from a battlefield. People running, gunfire, all in a vastly ambiguous and completely rubble-filled landscape. Cloud didn’t know which war this was, or where it was. He tried his hardest to not pay attention to things of that nature.

The footage went on. Shaking imagery, snaps of stillness, the bottom of the screen covered in scrolling text. Images of fallen soldiers bombarded the screen, but amongst all of it someone came charging in and pulled the fallen out and to safety. Cloud couldn’t make out what was happening exactly, but he got the idea that it was always the same guy darting in and out of cover, to collect the fallen.

Cloud keyed into the faint sound of the news reporter saying something about bravery and selfless acts of courage.

The footage eventually cut to the outside of a familiar building; Phoenix Dessert Downs; the hospital Cloud was currently in.

“Poor fool got himself riddled with more bullets and shrapnel than all of the other men and women he saved. The field hospital got most of it out, and he’s had more blood transfusions than I’ve ever seen anyone else get, but they can’t give him the long term care he needs. Oh, Cloud. Don’t look so glum.”

Cloud startled somewhat and felt his face return to a more neutral position. “I’ll most likely be coming here often, to deliver flowers to him.”

“He’s got a sweetheart, hmm?” Barbara smiled. “Here, take this pass. It will get you through to ICU and past all the military,” she said, sounding exhausted.

“Military personnel can be a right handful,” he observed and gratefully took the pass.

“It’s what day shift have been complaining about the most,” she sighed deeply.

“Bet they’re glad to hand it over to you and your crew, huh.”

“You know night shift handles pressure and unwanted riff-raff better,” she winked.

“That you do,” he gave a small smile.

Cloud took his leave of the nurses station, feeling exhausted from the exchange, and wandered the halls toward ICU. He observed that there were indeed a lot of military personnel mingling around the halls; mostly camped out at the vending machines, which made Cloud realize just how run down and in need of something caffeinated he felt.

He detoured to a coffee machine and drank the burnt, bitter and old tasting brew with a scowl as he forged ahead. He showed his pass to the appropriate authorities and was let through to the ward.

Evening had fallen, and though the interior was brightly lit, the ward was rather hushed. Nursing staff came and went, tending to all the critical patients. Machines beeped and whirred. Quiet murmurs ran through the place like an electric undercurrent.

Cloud went in the direction he saw the most amount of people, confident that it was the room he was after. He stopped across the way and looked in through the glass windows, which lined the wall facing the ward. He recognized the high ranking officials uniforms. A lot of Sergeants of varying degrees. It was kind of impressive, but it also irritated Cloud. This whole situation was irritating and he didn’t think he’d like to make these flower deliveries a staple thing of his working day if this was what he had to walk into every time..

He finished his coffee, tossed it in the trash, breathed deep, and went into the room to get his delivery sorted.

The buzzing murmur of conversation grew marginally louder as he opened the door and let himself in, but then it ceased in a flash, as all eyes turned onto him.

Cloud hadn’t felt this uncomfortable since his last family get together. He swallowed down the nerves. “Delivery for Zack Fair, from a Miss Gainsborough.”

“Ah, Aerith, the sweet thing. Just put them over there. Zack will be happy to see them if he eventually wakes up,” someone, who appeared to be a Sergeant Major, said to him.

The ‘if’ wasn't lost on Cloud. He gave a curt nod and weaved through the small crowd toward the bed at the center of the room. He could make out a seemingly sleeping figure in the bed. His head was bandaged up and gauze was plastered to his cheek. Wires and tubes were attached all over the man and ran in all manner of directions; some hooked up to monitoring equipment and all kinds of drips filled with clear fluids, but also bags of blood.

Cloud looked for somewhere to put the flowers. Here was a small tray table next to the bed, which was covered in bouquets and cards. More bouquets sat on a chair, and others lined the wall to the left of the bed. Clearly, this guy wouldn’t need any more flowers. He wondered if he could convince Aerith that the hospital room was colorful enough already, and could thus spare himself the trip out here and most of all back here.

He supposed he would have no such luck, and instead busied himself making room on the small tray table for Aerith’s flower arrangement (which, if Cloud had to admit, was one of the nicest in the room). He positioned the card so it would also be seen if this guy ever woke up. Cloud figured himself lucky to get out of conversing with him today. Was it cruel to hope he’d never have to make conversation with this guy?

Probably.

He looked back at the broken man lying in the bed. The bandaged head slumped toward Cloud’s direction and the man’s eyes seemed to be open a small crack.

Cloud looked back toward everyone else in the room, but no one was paying attention; too busy talking about tactical information; what to do about the remaining company and what honors to bestow upon the survivors, because Cloud was apparently not important enough to not talk about that kind of stuff in front of.

Cloud didn’t get what everyone was in here for if it wasn’t to help support a fallen comrade. So he decided that they probably just wanted to feel important and were here for some other self-serving purpose.

He turned back toward Zack and quietly murmured, “From Aerith. She’s worried about you, and is sorry that she can’t be here right now.”

Eyes slipped shut and it was barely visible, but Cloud thought he saw the ghost of a smile.

He turned and left, wondering if it would be a problem that he didn’t get the delivery signed off. He didn’t care enough about it to get one from any of the Sergeants in the room, especially not when he heard a faint, “Does General Strife have a kid?" pass through the gap in the door just as he shut it.

He got out of there as fast as possible, finished his other jobs through fatigue gnawing at him. Tifa asked how his day had been when he came back to delivery the van and invoices. He didn’t give her more than a grunting reply before heading back out, hopping on his bike and racing back home so he could collapse on his bed and sleep.

_____________

Aerith asked for a flower arrangement to be sent every second day, which at least gave Cloud rest in between to not stress about having to be in a wholly unpalatable environment. Despite only passing through and lingering in the place for 20 minutes at most, those were still 20 minutes he would rather never have to endure in the first place. But when he saw Aerith again to pick up the next delivery, her gratitude melted Cloud’s displeasure. His heart grew heavier with each passing day that he couldn’t tell her that the man she was so worried about still hadn’t woken up yet, both for her and himself.

He detested the hospital run. It stressed him out and stress legitimately was no good for him. As the first week of doing this job passed, Cloud could feel himself becoming unwell. He always got sick when he was highly stressed, and going to the hospital was a toxic cocktail of stress for him. It didn’t matter how well he organized himself; going in at 6 o’clock at night when there were fewer media and military sleazeballs lurking about. The late deliveries didn’t let him completely escape run-ins with the military. He took to wearing a baseball cap, pulled down over his face, but he could still feel the lingering eyes and hear the too-loud whispering rumors that he was who they all thought he was and everything that came with that territory.

Each day he heard something else; ‘Did you hear he couldn't even finish basic training?’; in the hallway; ‘Did you hear he got special treatment?’; the elevator; ‘Did you hear his parents pulled strings?’; the coffee station; ‘Did you hear he slept with a General?’; passing the door into the bedridden man’s room; ‘Did you hear he got spoon-fed the entrance exam questions?’.

Each day the well of his resentment grew exponentially deeper.

He tried to ignore, to not hear, to pretend he imagined it all. He went about his job, hurrying in and out of the hospital, sometimes seeking refuge at the hot coffee dispenser to refocus himself and get a caffeine hit to stop him from falling asleep behind the wheel, especially as these hospital visits completely drained him. Cloud hated having to be here. Hated the military. Himself. The bed-ridden source of his misery.

Why, out of all the hospitals in the world and in particular this city, did apparent poster boy have to land in this one? Not that Cloud supposed it mattered much since Tifa somehow knew Aerith and both ladies apparently loved pushing their own agendas onto himself.

He kept doing his assigned job though because Tifa (predictably) had put an embargo on anyone taking or swapping that particular job off Cloud. It did not help his mood or physical health. He could feel the onset of the cold and the day after having been stuck in an elevator with 3 military goons who had recognized him, as he had done basic training with two of them close to a decade ago, he crashed and couldn’t get out of his bed when his alarm went off at 11 in the morning. He couldn’t face another day of doing that job, even though today, most likely, he wouldn’t have to go to the hospital. The weeklong process of going through the hospital halls, seeing uniformed personnel, had completely sapped him of his already minimal pool of energy and it crescendoed today, so he slept the day and the next away.

Tifa rang several times, checking in on Cloud, which he appreciated.

"I'm sorry, am I pushing you too hard? I can reduce your workload to five runs a day."

"Do I still need to cover the hospital?"

Silence greeted him for a few beats, "Is it really stressful for you?"

Cloud felt like such a pathetic weakling. Suddenly a surge of needing to ‘suck it up’ raced through him. "No. I think being around all the sick people is just making me sick. I’ll be okay in another day… I think.”

“Take as long as you need. Felix is doing the hospital runs for now. If you think it would be better for your health not to—” “No, really. I’ll be fine. Just give me back my usual runs when I’m back.”

“Okay.” Cloud hated his strong sense of duty.

_____________

Cloud returned to work and did his best to ignore the people around him. He went even later to the hospital, just to be on the safe side and as much as possible hid behind the flower arrangements he carried, especially when it came to the guard who was stationed at the door. Cloud still felt worn out by the almost daily ordeal but, with a sardonic huff, decided to soldier on.

As the weeks passed, he learned more about his comatose burden through the media. Nothing about the operation he had been involved in though, as that was deemed highly sensitive. He wasn’t one to watch the news, but found himself watching it now, just to get some information, especially when he heard conversations with phrases like 'such a shame’, 'cut down in his prime, ‘it's all too bad’, as he passed by people in the hospital.

He learned about all the honors, achievements, and military pursuits of the spirited young man who now lay unmoving and in a critical condition in a sterile hospital bed with intubators, drips, catheters and various other devices attached to himself. Cloud could appreciate the sadness of it, the tragedy of what had befallen this man, especially since the reports said he had worked tirelessly at saving his comrades and single-handedly kept the squad’s Sergeant alive.

It dawned on him one day while standing there in the empty darkened room, surrounded by the staggering amount of flowers, that it almost felt like he was visiting a crypt. Yet there also sat awe in this place, because he bore witness to this barely-there military man, fighting and struggling for his life, even in this perfect stillness, which was punctured by the rasping breath through the oxygen mask and the soft sound of machinery in the background. The monument of decaying flowers, deflating balloons, knocked over 'get well's cards all spoke of one thing: the love of the people; those he had saved, those who knew him, the general public; they adored him and what he represented. Unwavering spirit, devotion, sacrifice, martyrdom. It was like the flowers were a farewell.

Cloud stared at that physically manifested concept every time he stood in the room, trying to find a place for one more flower arrangement. One more tribute to lay at the foot of the living memorial. It left a sour taste in Cloud’s mouth. He understood that this man had been deemed a 'go-getter’ by his superiors. A real 'people person’ by his peers. Someone who had always joked and make sure all his comrades and anyone under and even above himself had been okay, which was what had made him such a great Corporal—had made him. All those things were now relegated to the past, a memory, a dream. And all for what…. Cloud got stuck on that thought and with pure derision, muttered, “Look where all that love and affection has gotten you. You’re stuck here, all alone, in a room full of dead things. And the public and military can’t even wait for you to be properly dead before turning your room into a grave.” Admittedly Cloud was having a rather glum sort of a pensive day.

He kept delivering flowers, kept watching the news late at night when he couldn’t sleep, despite being utterly physically and mentally exhausted. And he listened on the radio while driving his van. It was never anything terribly meaningful or insightful. All events from the battlefield, reports on casualties, and anything pertaining to the mission which had landed the man Cloud visited on an almost daily basis in the hospital, was barely forthcoming. The operation was still deemed too sensitive and top secret. So all the media could report on was Zack Fair.

Cloud felt somewhat entrapped by the man he had been made to visit. Zack Fair turned into a morbid oddity and curiosity; a form of Stockholm Syndrome perhaps. A trainwreck Cloud was glued to witnessing. He wondered if Zack would ever wake up. He wondered what the man was actually really like. He doubted anyone would ever speak badly of the man or call him out on any asshole-ish behavior while he was in such an in-between life and death state of existence. He couldn’t buy that this guy was so amazing, wonderful, kind, fun. Sure, he sounded nice and like the exact type of person, Cloud avoided in his life. It sounded like a real shame for Corporal Fair to not recover from this. But maybe it also really wasn’t. Who knew? Cloud sure as hell didn’t, and wouldn’t know what the actual reality of the matter was unless the dead rose from his coma.

Cloud tried to not lose any more sleep over it and pushed his wonderings away, focusing on the job at hand, which in the end led him right back to the hospital, standing before his charge, staring down at him, thinking a myriad of conflicting thoughts. In the end, he always decided he didn’t care. He was getting paid. It was just the damn military personnel that got under his skin and made this the worst part of his day. He resented coming here. Hated that the comatose guy didn't just wake up, freeing Cloud of his obligations.

"You're one hell of a selfish son of a bitch," Cloud muttered another day, after having caught a half-heard conversation between the military personnel stationed outside of the door, bemoaning their station over having to watch and guard against media entry. "But keep giving them Hell out there," Cloud finished with a smile, liking the discomfort being inflicted on people who resented having to look after someone who apparently did crazy brave things, like sticking his neck out for other people. Cloud supposed the extra resentment outside might have something to do with a new spate of news that he had caught last night.

"You know you got a bunch of medals? I don't know if anyone's been in to inform you, but… congratulations," Cloud said with bitter amusement as he set the flowers down on the tray table. "You got a Medal of Honor, a Distinguished Service Cross, and a Silver Star Medal. You're one impressive guy, Corporal Fair." He bent down to look Zack in his more-akin-to-dead-than-alive face. His eyes trailed over the bandaged forehead, the patch over his left cheek, the mask covering his nose and mouth to help him breathe.

"Hope it was worth being like this, man." Cloud was greeted with the even breathing, the whirring of machines, and the faint beep of the heart rate monitor.

He stood back up and left the room.

_____________

There came a point, somewhere around the 1-month mark of Cloud having started on his hospital delivery route, that things seemed to change a little. He arrived at the comatose man’s room to find the oxygen mask off and a considerable amount of equipment gone. The mountain of flowers also looked smaller and a more sensible amount. Cloud tested the room with a faint, “Hello?” but received no reply. He went over to the bed, warily inspecting the other man, who looked gaunt and pale, but a lot better for not having all that equipment and tubing attached to himself.

There was no motion, other than an even fall of the chest, and generally speaking, the man looked like he had always done while lying in this bed. Cloud left the flowers and headed out, catching Barbara before leaving.

“How is Zack doing? He’s no longer on the oxygen mask.” “He is doing a lot better, yes. His independent breathing improved so he doesn't need the respirator.” She wasn’t willing to give much more information than that, so Cloud left to return the van and go home to sleep, which came a little easier to him that night.

It was also roughly around the 1-month mark that Cloud began enjoying his trips to the hospital a little, especially on rough days because an almost comatose person couldn't give him any flack for not arriving precisely, to the second, on time. They weren’t going to back-chat or give him the stink-eye. Other than the military being everywhere, Cloud relaxed considerably when coming here every second day. The walk through the hall was uncomfortable but he would grab an awful cup of coffee, hurry to his target’s location, not even be acknowledged by the security anymore as Cloud was as good as the bland decor around the hospital, and dumped the flowers wherever he found space. He then sat down in the uncomfortable guest chair and peacefully drank his burnt coffee.

That routine and place almost became like a sanctuary. Sure, he had to traverse Hell to get to it, but it was pleasant when he got there. He found it nice to not be in a mad rush, nice not having to do small talk. And then two weeks after the respirator had come out, the military finally, for the most part, departed. Things were getting even better for Cloud.

One day, he had been in a frantic rush the entire day due to massive traffic congestions absolutely everywhere he had to get to. Exhausted and starved he grabbed whatever looked least offensive at the hospital cafeteria and made his way to the ICU. Once he had deposited yet another exquisite bouquet, he slumped into the guest chair, which had been cleared of flowers a while ago, and relaxed with a deep sigh.

“God, what a day from hell,” he bemoaned and after a few beats of breathing and quiet, he sat up straight and opened his styrofoam food container.

“I’m sure you don’t mind me eating in here, right?” Cloud glanced at the only other occupant of the room. “I mean, I do bring you all these flowers, and I’m pretty sure I’m the only one who regularly visits. So, if you’re not going to thank me, the least you could afford me is to let me use you like a tray table, huh.”

Cloud looked at the way the body in the bed lay almost lifeless. A steady beating and shallow rise and fall of the chest were the only signs of life.

Taking the prolonged silence as permission, Cloud dug into his meal. Was it strange talking to an unconscious person? It didn’t feel any stranger than talking to himself late at night. It was about as enlightening, but he weirdly enough did enjoy the idea of another set of ears listening, without receiving dumb and pointless input.

“You’re not missing out on much with this food,” Cloud informed as he chewed. “Too dry and rubbery. But food’s food. And bad burnt coffee is still caffeine.” He took a sip, scrunched up his face and placed the cup carefully onto the bed before himself.

He ate the rest of his meal in silence, mulling over his schedule. When he was done he tidied up and got up. “Well, it was fun, Zack. It’s okay if I call you Zack, right? Or you prefer Sergeant Fair? All your new fancy medals aside, you also got a promotion, y’know?” Cloud looked and got no response. “Zack it is then. See ya later.” And with that he left, feeling far more energized after a meal and some liquid energy.

_____________

Cloud kept coming because Aerith kept ordering flower arrangements to be delivered. He lingered ever longer in that room, finding it oddly meditative. Zack's silent company reminded Cloud of his old family dog, and as Cloud sat in the chair, thinking about it, he almost reached over to pay the comatose man's head. He caught himself though and chuckled about it.

He wondered more and more about the man he was tasked with 'keeping company,' for he did keep him company more often than not. With the military gone, bar for a patrol here and there and the occasional door check, the hospital had a far more relaxed atmosphere, and Cloud found himself less drained and ready to crash by the time he got home. He figured if he was going to stay up anyway, he might as well do it whilst in someone's company.

Cloud sat and used this hospital room as his private dining hall, eating evening meals he had picked up from the cafeteria or from a fast food joint outside. He also sometimes checked his phone while he ate, reading articles, playing games. It was nice and quiet, just how he liked it. And while he did these things he also cast glances over to the sleeping man. The glances turned to gazes, where he studied the man's face and the way his chest rose and fell, shallow and at rest.

Sometimes he got stuck in his head, replaying all that he knew of the other man and all he had seen on the TV. It was a peaceful, quiet evening in early spring. He had a tray of hospital food in his lap, his phone in one hand and a spork in the other when the thoughts that bothered him the most fell out of his mouth in a hushed tone, “What kind of food do you like, Zack? Bet the answer isn't hospital food,” he muttered whilst putting another forkful of green mush into his mouth.

Predictably, there was no response.

“I know what school you went to. I know how hard you worked to get to where you were. I vaguely know about the mission you were on when this happened to you—that’s all the news talks about. Well, they also talk about how whatever you were involved with is still highly top secret so the public isn’t allowed to know the specific details of it. It's been nearly 2 months now since you landed here, and who knows how much time you spent in the field hospital before you were brought here. Smells like a cover-up, if you ask me. I hope you’re not gonna be like some scapegoat for them,” that thought riled Cloud up, but he tried to relax and changed the subject, “But anyway, all that stuff in the media doesn’t actually answer the real questions I have, like what’s your favorite color? Why did you think that mullet was a good look for you in high school? Yeah, the news channels love pulling out that photo of you in your yearbook.”

More silence greeted him and Cloud also fell silent again.

He kept his visitations up, he kept asking Zack random things, but got bored of not having anything answered and soon ran out of things he wondered about without repeating himself. So instead, he used Zack as a way to vent his frustrations with work, and some of the people he had to engage with.

“Did you know that Mr. Storgeno wanted all blue cocktail umbrellas? Well, I didn't either, until he opened up the box right in front of me and started complaining about it. Like I packed that box myself and purposefully put green and red umbrellas into the packet, just to spite him. Kinda wish I had,” he finished in a mutter.

He had many more stories to tell about how he—the messenger—got shot, in the proverbial sense. Venting like this made Cloud feel lighter every time he left the hospital at the end of his day.

That was Cloud’s life; struggle to wake in the mornings, struggle to stay awake in the day during work, dealing with pleasant and unpleasant people alike, and then dropping by the hospital on the days it was on his roster, to chill out before going home where he’d have a battle to shut off in order to get a good night’s sleep.

The days and weeks passed. The military continued their stance of keeping quiet to protect national interests, and so, public interest diminished. The media in front of the hospital dwindled, there were no more sensational headlines, and news of Zack Fair faded into the background and complete obscurity as the months Zack spent in hospital turned to 3.

Cloud still caught sight of the occasional military uniform, much to his chagrin. He managed to avoid them mostly, and came and went undetected as Zack’s security didn’t seem very dedicated to their job, especially as the public no longer had any interest in the man stuck in the ICU ward.

It was one unremarkable evening; Cloud had finished all his deliveries, bar one. Exhaustion clung to him, weighing him down. He went to the coffee station on his way to Zack’s room, pulling his hat over his face as he passed the goons, who stood near the coffee station, cups in hands.

“Did ya hear that they’re gonna continue paying him an on-active-duty wage? The guy’s barely alive from what I’ve seen,” grumbled a burly military man into his cup of coffee.

“And here we are, gettin’ paid less than the guy we are here to guard. Just makes ya wanna spit,” the smaller of the two men responded.

“I’ll tell ya what, Biggs, if I were in charge of the budget I’d find better things to spend it on. Why’s he even need all this special attention? Stick him in the public sector. My sister-in-law’s a nurse over at the fifth district. Says they have all the same equipment.” “The big wiggs gotta put on a show. Make it look like they actually give a shit about their employees. Makes for a hella PR stunt.”

“Ya don’t think the whole thing was a setup to begin with, do ya?”

"No clue. They tell us jack shit."

Cloud had enough. He slapped on a lid for his coffee rather violently and spilling nearly half his drink. Hissing, he grabbed for napkins to mop up the mess and dry himself off a little. He felt eyes on himself and lowered his head, as well as turning away slightly. He unfortunately still heard it though—

"Ya heard the rumors that General Strife’s son doing deliveries around here, haven’t ya?"

Cloud's nostrils flared.

"Deliveries…” a derisive laugh followed. "Is that the only thing that kid's good for? If that was my son I’d be disappointed. I heard everyone in that family has some foot in the army. To be doing deliveries," disappointed tutting followed.

"I know what ya mean."

The voices sounded louder as if directed at Cloud. He threw the soiled napkins in the bin and rushed off, coffee and bouquet in each hand, heading down the hall and away from the muttonheads.

He barged into Zack’s room, dumped the bouquet at the foot of the bed and started pacing.

“How dare those jerks talk about you like that. After all you did. This is what I hate. The backstabbing, two-faced bullshit. Being treated like a number and a burden!"

He was in full swing—pacing around the room and fuming. “I can see it in their smug, douchey faces, you know. The derision. The pity. I don't need anyone's pity. I never asked for anyone's pity. And they throw that same shit at you. At least you can't see or hear it. You're a national hero, but they try to brush you off like you don't exist. Like you're broken. That's what they all do, you know. If you don't cut it they cut you off, and let you go." Cloud stomped, his hands flew around wildly gesticulating as he kept ranting, "They love nothing more than to hammer home what an epic disappointment you are to the whole fucking family,” he slammed his fist into the wall with a low growl. The pain radiated up his arm. It helped to sober him up and cool him off a little. He breathed furiously and stared at the wall, which had become rather blurry through the tears welling up in his eyes.

He listened to the buzzing of machinery in the room. His ragged breathing and the steady beeping of Zack’s heart rate monitor cut through the slight ringing in his ears. Yet the beeping sounded a fraction faster than what it had been before.

“Sorry,” Cloud muttered and turned back to face the room. He stared at Zack's unchanging body for a while before he shuffled back toward the comatose man. Picking up the bouquet as he went, he sank down into the now-familiar chair and placed the flowers on the table where he should have put them to begin with. “I hate it, y’know. I hate what you do and the organization you work for. And if you were to wake up right now—well, I'd hate to think that I’d probably hate you too.” His heart felt heavy. Most of all he hated that it was the truth. As upset as he felt right now, he wasn’t saying this to be vindictive; nothing but honesty left his mouth.

He gave a hard stare at the man on the bed before him. His face was turned away, and Cloud thought it for the best as he spoke in a slow, semi-whisper, “A part of me hopes you won’t pull through.” He cast eyes to the floor. He felt awful admitting it. “I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to be doing this. And most of all, I don’t wanna know you because… because if I got to actually know you through something other than the media, I'd probably end up really liking you. It's easy to hate you when they espouse you to be the poster child of the military. I don't want to like you. I don't want to hate you. Fuck, I don't know." Cloud clutched his head, flinging off his hat and rubbing at his hair furiously. "I don't mean that. I'd rather think the best of you, really. But…" he sighed, "you also don't seem like someone I would ever get along with. Everyone seems to love you—I mean, I don't think I've ever seen a room so full of flowers and get-well wishes on cards. You know, the cleaners have to clear out your room once a week to stop this place from becoming a jungle? That's how much people like you. I mean, I don't know if they are from personal friends and family, but… it doesn't even matter. It’s been three months and you still get so much love showered your way. You're like an amazing poster child. The media made it sound like you were a prodigy; super good at your job; such a bright future ahead of you. That's what I hear the shitheads outside say about you too—the ones who envy you. That's what it is, you know, jealousy and envy. And I know because…” he huffed. “But here you are, nearly dead. Bet no one envies that.. Bet they wouldn't have the guts to be the kind of guy you were—are. I don't even know whether you're dead or alive. All I know is that you're everything I hate in a person. You're everything I wish I could have been. Shit. I don't know. I'm just ranting, ignore me." Cloud sat up straight and replaced his hat.

With a heavy sigh, he continued, “It’s a pretty shit way to feel about someone, especially since I don't even know you. Look, I guess all I know is that from everything I've seen and heard, you sound… really irritating. I guess it’s not the fairest assessment to be making about a person.” Cloud, leaning back down to rest his forearms on his thighs, knit his fingers together and stared at his hands. “I probably sound like a real asshole. I guess I am. And to be honest, if you woke up and I found out you were somewhat of an asshole, that would make me like you more. It would give you a redeemable quality.” Cloud huffed out some sad amusement and looked up at the man he had just admonished. “Or maybe I want you to be an ass so I can feel better about myself.”

He righted himself from where he had slumped. “But all that being said… I actually kind of do hope you pull through. I’m not evil. Or maybe I am.” Cloud cast a glance toward the currently frosted-over privacy windows that looked into the ICU ward. “I want you to prove everyone out there wrong. It’s disgusting the derisive pity and platitudes they all spout. I'm sure you deserve better than that. I'm sure you don't need their shit.” Cloud sighed and picked up the coffee cup he had set down amongst the bouquets. He took a sip and grimaced. “And I'm also pretty sure I deserve better coffee than this.” He aimed and threw the cup toward the bin near the door. He hit his mark and collected himself so he could walk out of the room with an air of aloofness.

“Anyway, good chat, I guess. See you later.”

_____________

Deciding he didn't want to take on his colleagues workload, as he felt rather run down, he arrived very early in the afternoon at the hospital. Cloud wandered down the hospital hall, carrying another bouquet to its usual destination and felt rather anxious. The thought of how long it had actually been since his delivery recipient had landed in the ICU began bothering him. The fact that Zack was still in the same state as the first day Cloud had done his delivery grew disconcerting for him. Yes, the man didn’t need a machine anymore to help him breathe; yes, several more of the intensive care equipment had slowly been moved out of the room, but Zack was still there. Was he brain-dead? Was he improving? Cloud tried to not think about the other man too much, but lately it ate into his sleep and he could feel the onset of another unwell period settling in. He hated how he could practically feel himself slipping into the prodromal phase of his condition. He needed to get some good sleep tonight if he hoped to not crash and burn in the morning. So he stopped by the nurse's station to see if he could get some information.

“Evening Simon,” he said of the man dressed in dark scrubs and a hazel complexion.

“Hi, Cloud. That's another very lovely bouquet you got there.”

“Aerith is a master when it comes to this stuff. I don't think any of the ones I've brought in have been the same.”

“I think you're right. But what can I do for you? You don't make a habit of stopping by for a chat.”

“Ah, just wanted to know how Zack was doing. He's still in the ICU after all this time. That doesn't seem right. Will he be okay?”

Simon looked past Cloud to where Zack's room was. “Considering how on a knife's edge he was, he's doing remarkably well. He's been such a delight, it's almost a shame that we'll be moving him next week.”

Cloud stared, baffled by everything the other man has just said. “He's being moved?”

“Yeah. Getting his own private area, up on the fifth floor of the residential rehabilitation wing. It’s pretty nice up there.”

“Wouldn't he be better off staying down here?”

“No. He's out of imminent danger. Plus, he’s been asking to be moved for the last two weeks.”

“A-asking? But he's out cold.” A sinking feeling grew.

Simon looked confused. “He's been pretty vocal. For someone in his shape, he's been remarkably upbeat these past few weeks. You don’t know that he’s awake?”

If it were possible to feel sea-sick on land, Cloud experienced it at that moment. “No.” The nurse hummed. “Maybe you keep coming in when he's sleeping?”

Cloud really hoped that was what was going on, but his brain went to the worst-case scenario; mocking betrayal. “Yeah. Must be it.”

Cloud took his leave and headed to the room. The windows were frosted over for privacy. As he approached a man with raven hair, and a woman with ebony curls, and an olive complexion, exit the room. They didn't appear to be the regular military personnel; wearing casual clothes as the sting of winter had gone.

As the parties passed each other the woman stopped Cloud in his tracks. “Excuse me, are those for my son?”

Cloud looked toward Zack's room and back at the couple, both of which were a good five inches taller than himself. “A delivery for Zack Fair.”

The man and woman gave him big, good-natured smiles.

“So you must be Cloud,” she said.

Strangers knowing his name always unnerved him. “Ahhh, yeah—that's me,” he answered warily. Cloud had his hand taken and shaken in turn by both of them.

“We can't thank you enough for keeping our son company. We know that it means a lot to him.”

Indignation started to build, but he kept his cool. “There's nothing to thank me for.”

“Oh, come now. Don't be so modest,” the rather-fit-for-a-middle-aged man said, smiling broadly. He clapped Cloud on the shoulder.

“You have been such a great help to our Zack. Thank you,” the woman looked to want to pull Cloud into a hug, but the flowers he held seemed to dissuade her, to Cloud’s relief.

“If we can ever repay you for the kindness, please let us know,” the man said.

“Oh, n-no, that’s not… I’m just doing my job,” Cloud stammers lightly.

He received more warm smiles an ‘thank you’s before the woman urged, “Dear, we should be leaving, and let Cloud get on with his work.”

“Right, right. Thank you again for looking after our son.”

With that the couple hurried off, leaving Cloud staring at the now offending room before himself. He thought about not going in. He'd obviously been played. But he had a job to do, so he inhaled sharply and ventured forward.

On opening the door he was greeted by a wholly unfamiliar voice, “Hey, mom, pop did you—”

Cloud stood in the doorway, glaring daggers

The bright smile vanished even before the sheets were flung over the bedridden man's head and the lump under the blanket shuffled flat against the mattress. Faux snoring sounded moments later.

Cloud stood and his hard-as-steel glare broke at the ridiculousness of the scene playing out before him. It might have been amusing if Cloud wasn’t getting red hot with anger and embarrassment.

He closed the door behind himself and moved toward the bed, a frown playing on his lips. He went to the bed and dropped the flowers on the tray table, making the flimsy plastic rattle. “Another bouquet from Aerith,” was his business-as-usual greeting.

Cloud received no response other than the snoring quieting down a little. He glared and made a snap decision. “I’m not coming back here.” Humiliation burned. Cloud turned to flee the situation and feelings. He’d rather quit his job than make one more delivery to this place. He was going to tell Tifa as much.

“No, Cloud. I’m sorry. I’m an asshole, I know. But that’s why you should stay,” came the hasty and guilty admission in a low, rusty timbre.

Cloud stopped before he reached the door. Without turning back he agreed with the man, “You are an asshole.”

“But it’s my redeemable feature, right?” Zack laid out gently.

It took all of Cloud’s energy to keep his body from trembling with outrage and mortification. How long had this bastard been faking it? “Does Aerith know that you’re awake?” he got out through grit teeth, wanting to know how deep this farcical ruse went.

A few beats of silence. And then, “She visited last week,” came the muttered response.

The outrage erupted. An actual growl rumbled in the back of CLoud’s throat. Through grit teeth, he snapped, “And?”

“Aaaand—we talked and had a really nice time,” came the small, chastened voice.

Cloud huffed, sharply. His clenched fist trembled and his heart hammered. The flash of heat inside his body sprang to his cheeks. He thought he could die from embarrassment. She had known. He had seen her this late morning and she had said nothing to him. He didn’t know who he was madder at. “Good luck with your life,” he spat over his shoulder, without looking at the bane of his existence, and marched to the door.

“I’m so sorry,” came the plea. “Please don’t leave. Let me ex—”

Cloud slammed the door behind himself and hurried out, ignoring any looks or questions of concern he received. His whole body trembled with burning outrage by the time he got to the car. He couldn’t go back to work to drop the van off. He couldn’t face Tifa without snapping at her and unleashing all his anger at her, because she must have known as well.

Cloud went home and passed out in his bed.

#clack #zakkura #FFVII Modern AU #fanfic #sneakpeek #first chapter #hospital #military #cloud strife #zack fair #tifa lockhart #aerith gainsborough

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just-an-average-dad · 2 years

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[MF] nfl playoffs hookup

Me... I’m a M28. Tall. Fit. And big below. I’ve been telling my hookup stories. Idc if you believe them or not. I know where my dick’s been.

Tis the season. Nfl playoffs are here reminding me of one of my favorite hookups.

This was 2016 (I was 22). Steelers vs Bengals playoff game. Crazy ending. I’m a Steelers fan. And if you know anything about football you know Steelers fans are everywhere.

Near my apartment was a Steelers bar I’d frequent every Sunday with some buddies.

During the regular season it’s the regulars but come playoff time there are new faces packed inside the smoky dive bar.

My friends and I were at our normal high table and seats when I saw her (F20s, big blue eyes, blond hair, petite, cute smile, east coast tanning booth tan - it wasn’t trashy like jersey shore cast lol).

She was wearing yoga pants and an Antonio brown jersey (lol). She gave me a small smile as her and her friends took the high table right next to ours. The bar was so crowded I was shoulder to shoulder with her facing the tv.

The Steelers had some big plays early so we high fived. My buddy ordered shots and invited their table.

Which opened up the dialogue with their table. I chatted with her a little, I learned she was in town visiting a friend. But I’m a dude so I was solely focused on the game.

She kept starting conversation with me. She was the type of girl used to getting hit on so it was different for her to be ignored by a dude.

Anyways, the game gets close towards the end and the Bengals end up taking the lead and Big Ben is hurt.

Steelers throw a pick. I’m depressed. I think the season is over. Game over...

Until, the Steelers forced a fumble.

Big Ben comes trotting out onto the field.

Steelers get into game winning field goal range.

You could hear a pin drop at the bar.

The kick is up and... good

The bar erupts. Everyone jumping up and down, high - fiving.

I turn to the girl next to me and no fucks given kiss her.

Thankfully, she kissed back.

Her friends and my friends ended up drinking and taking shots as celebration for hours later.

As it got later into the night me and her got flirty and handsy

Drunk and horny I whispered in her ear “I live close by”

So we snuck out

Back to my place.

We were the perfect level of drunk for sex. Inhibitions gone. But not too drunk where it’s sloppy and you don’t remember much. Drunk enough you feel everything, but you can last however long you feel like.

We passionately made out into my apartment.

I pulled her AB jersey over her head. Then her thermal. No bra. Her left nipple was pierced.

I immediately put my mouth on her tit and swirl my tongue around her hard nipple.

She pulled my jersey and shirt off. Running her fingernails lightly across my chest and abs. Then she unbuckled my jeans. Letting them drop to the floor.

She was partly surprised, partly turned on, I had no underwear on.

We move to my room. I lay her onto the bed. I lay beside her. Kissing.

She stroked my throbbing cock.

My hand roamed, teasing her tits then her pussy through her yoga pants. She was dripping through her yoga pants.

I slid her yoga pants down. She had a hot tan line of her bikini bottoms.

Her pussy was ridiculously smooth. Small, tight lips.

She moaned, “fuck me hard”

I rolled on a condom. Pulled her to the edge of the bed. Propped pillows under her and spread her legs wide.

She stroked my cock before guiding me in.

I slid in easily. Her pussy was ready for me. So wet. So warm. Felt like I didn’t have a condom on.

I began by giving her a hard pump, deep. Then slowly pulling my way back. Then another hard pump and repeat. I looked deep in her eyes as I did this. Kissing her at times.

“Pound my pussy. Please. ”, she moaned.

I obliged. The louder she moaned the harder i pounded her wet pussy.

We fucked hard. Every position.

She really liked it rough (my kinda girl).

I threw her around the bed and gave her all of my cock in every position imaginable. She clawed at my back and chest. Ass smacks. Light choking. Nibbles and bites. Her tits were completely marked by me by the end. Her ass red with my handprints.

I showered ropes of my cum all over her stomach and tits.

She looked into my eyes as she tasted me with finger.

Over the years we’ve occasionally sent each other naughty snaps and texts.

She’s supposed to be visiting my area in the new year. But she’s said that a lot over the years...

We’ll see. Go Steelers!

submitted by /u/Theegentleman12 [link] [comments] from Sex Stories https://ift.tt/3twuf6X

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darling-cas · 6 years

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All Is Well: Elorcan

TOG/ACOTAR Christmas Fic

Summary: Lorcan has a Christmas surprise for Elide. MODERN AU.

Note: I’m going to start off by saying thank you. Thank you to all the amazingly talented writers - @paperbacktrash @sjmaas @sparkleywonderful @wingsofanillyrian @catastrophicallyinlovewithbooks @throne-of-ashes-and-beauty @tacmc @feysandsmut @queen-archeron @aelin-and-feyre @ilikebigbooks-and-icannotlie - for agreeing to join me on this series. You are all beyond wonderful people, I’ll never be able to thank you enough for doing this with me. It has been such a pleasure and an honour. But also, thank you to all the readers for all the love and support! It’s because of you guys that this series happened! So thank you, I hope each and every one of you has the most amazing holiday. You deserve it. Love you all to the moon and back again, XXX

All Is Well Masterlist

——————–

Lorcan couldn’t hold back his sigh of relief. The sound flew past his lips, shoulders falling, as he followed Elide into the dark apartment, flicking on the lights.

“Thank god that’s over,” he mumbled, kicking off his dress shoes.

They had been at Aelin’s annual Christmas Eve party, and it was anything but a small gathering of friends. Aelin did what she did best: went above and beyond to host a spectacular event. To say that Lorcan was less than enthused to go would be an understatement. He wasn’t fond of parties and overly joyous crowds to being with. But when one adds the nerves he’d been feeling the whole night only to not even ask-

“Oh please, you had fun and you know it,” Elide mused, hanging her coat on the hook by the door. She turned around, looking up at him with those dark eyes framed with ebony leashes. Her long hair had been done in dark ringlets, falling over her shoulder with a smile on her ruby red lips. Lorcan’s heart leaped at the sight. God she was beautiful.

“Besides,” Elide’s tone turned sultry. She took two slow steps toward him, fiddling with his jacket as she looked up at him through her lashes. “You like sexy in a suit.”

A growl of approval sounded from the back of Lorcan’s throat, his hands gripping her waist and pulling her flush against him.

This woman was going to be the death of him.

“And you look exquisite.” His voice was a deep rumble in his throat, eye roaming over her tight red dress.

“I bet I’ll look even more so once this dress comes off.” Elide stepped back, eyes shining. She slowly started to make her way down the hallway, glancing over her shoulder. “You coming?”

God did he ever want to. Desire was already pooling in his stomach, heat coursing through his veins, his mind wheeling with all the ways he could worship that glorious body of hers. No other woman before Elide ever made him feel such a way.

Yet, he fought against the urge. There was something he had to do. Therefore he clamped down on his feelings, forcing the words out of his mouth.

“You go on. I’ll join you in a moment.”

Elide watched him for a second before a sweet smile graced her lips. With a nod of her head, she made her way down the hall and into their bedroom, closing the door behind her.

For just a moment, Lorcan allowed the nerves to settle in. He drew in an unsteady breath, running a shaking hand through his hair. He never felt like this before in his life. Never let himself feel such emotions. He was cold, distinct, emotionless. But this moment was the biggest moment of his life. He never thought he would get to this point. To find someone he loved with all his heart and soul, and who loved him just as much in return. Lorcan never thought he would have that.

So he allowed himself to feel the nerves, the doubt, but just for a moment. Time was getting away from him, he had to get to work.

Collecting himself, Lorcan started getting everything ready. He walked into the kitchen and pour two glasses of the best wine they had, grabbing a tray of Christmas cookies and placing it all on the coffee table before the couch. After that, he set to work lighting the Christmas tree and the fireplace, turning off the main lights so the living room was cast in a golden glow.

He stood for a moment, making sure everything was perfect. Because if there was a moment in his life he needed to be perfect, it was the moment he asked Elide Lochan to marry him.

He was going to do it at the party, in front of all their friends. It was the only thing he thought about all night, the ring burning through his pants pocket. He’d spot her across the room, chatting with Aelin or laughing with Manon, and his heart would start racing in his chest.

But in the end, deep down, he knew it wasn’t right, doing it at the party. It wasn’t him. He didn’t want everyone there, watching their special moment. He wanted it to be just him and her. He didn’t want everyone to crowd around him and Elide seconds after it happened - if she said yes.

Of course she’s going to say yes, Lorcan told himself, through the slightest bit of doubt still lingered.

Three years of dating and he didn’t think he’d ever fully feel like he deserved someone as good as Elide.

So he decided to wait until after the party when it was just the two of them at home. Just him and his love.

Drawing in a breath, Lorcan pulled off his tie. He shrugged out of the jacket of his suit before placing it on a chair in the kitchen. He could feel the nerves starting to push forward again as he smoothed down his white dress shirt, undoing the top buttons. He could feel the ring weigh down his pocket but tried not to think much of it.

He shouldn’t be nervous, had no need to be as Rowan told him. But after all the years they’d been together, Elide still brought out sides of him even Lorcan himself didn’t know he had. And after having her light up his world for the past three years, he finally felt it was time.

Lorcan walked back into the dimly lit living room once more, making his way towards the couch just as Elide came around the corner.

She was dressed in her Christmas PJs - red and white striped thermal leggings and the matching top. Her hair was still in long curls but now in a ponytail on top of her head, with all makeup washed away.

To Lorcan, she looked just as beautiful now as she did all dressed up. Even more so, in fact.

“You didn’t come in,” Elide said. “So you missed your change and I got undressed without you.”

Lorcan chuckled, the sound a deep rumble, as he sat down on the couch. His mind was wheeling, millions of thoughts forming one after the other and he couldn’t think about what to say other than, “Come sit with me.”

Elide didn’t hesitant. She walked over to the couch and joined him in front of the fire. There was no talking, the moment didn’t call for it. Lorcan simply picked up the two glasses of wine, handing one to Elide before sipping from his own.

Sitting there in the science, by the light of the Christmas tree and heat of the fire, Elide cuddled into his side and wrapped in his arms, Lorcan never felt so close to peace.

But the ring cutting into his thigh was a pleasant yet nerve-wracking reminder of what he was about to do.

“You’re quiet tonight.”

Lorcan looked down at Elide, meeting her gaze. The firelight cast half her in a shadow, but her eyes still shimmered as she munched on a Christmas cookie. “More so than usual.”

Lorcan managed to give her a small smile, placing a loving kiss on her forehead. “I’ve had a lot on my mind lately, that’s all.”

“Yeah?” Elide spoke softly. “Anything I can help with?”

“Possible.” Lorcan carefully sat down his wine. He could feel his heart thumping against his ribcage, a sensation taking over him that he never experienced before in his life as he glanced back at Elide. “I’d like to give you your gift if you don’t mind.”

Elide blinked once, then twice, before an enormous grin broke out on her face.

“Of course!” She pushed herself up so she was facing him, kneeling on the couch, all but bouncing with excitement.

Lorcan knew how much Elide loved presents and surprises. And as he watched the excited, tiny, perfect human before him, dark shadows highlighting the plans of her face, fire flickering in her dark gaze, he knew for a fact it was time.

There would never be such a perfect moment.

Gently taking the wine glass out of her hands, Lorcan pulled Elide to her feet. Her giant, curious eyes held his and Lorcan swallowed down the bundle of nerves racing through every inch of his body.

With a shaking hand, Elide’s gaze burning into his very soul, watching his every move, Lorcan reached into his pocket. He pulled out the small black box, heart pounding, Elide’s intake of breath filling the quiet room.

“Lorcan…” She breathed.

“I’m not one for words.” Lorcan slowly dropped to one knee, meeting Elide’s wide and glossy gaze. “I don’t know what good I’ve done in my life, but somehow it’s brought me you. And I’m not sure about the future, but I am sure about you. I’m sure I love you, Elide Lochan, I’d follow you anywhere and everywhere.” Lorcan paused, watching a tear run down Elide’s cheek, heart in his throat. “Will you marry me?”

There was a beat of silence, the crackling fire the only sound in the whole room, and it was the longest moment of Lorcan’s life. His mind started working a mile a minute. Maybe he had been wrong. Maybe she didn’t actually want to marry him. Maybe-

“Yes.” Elide breathed, tears in her eyes

“Yes?” Lorcan never heard a more beautiful word in his life.

Elide smiled and laughed, the most joyous sound, as she nodded her head. “Yes Lorcan, I will marry you.”

The relief and love that flooded through Lorcan were unlike anything he ever felt before. He stood up and scooped Elide into his arms, placing a passionate kiss on her lips, smiling the whole while. He only pulled back to place the ring - a simple diamond sitting on a silver band - on Elide’s finger.

She stared down at the ring before lifting her gaze, nothing but love shining through. The sight only warmed Lorcan’s dark heart even more.

Gently, she took his face in between her hands, pulling him to her level.

“I love you, Lorcan Salvaterre,” She breathed, her lips brushing his as she spoke.

“And I love you, Elide Lochan,” Lorcan said just as softly before capture her lips with his once more.

He was overcome with so many emotions, unable to believe that such a strong, beautiful, amazing woman such as Elide had actually agreed to be his wife, to be by his side forever. And all he wanted to do in that moment was hold her, love her, and never let go.

Carefully, Lorcan lifted Elide and lowered them both onto the couch. Never once did he take his lips off hers, and there, in the light of the Christmas tree and fire, he showed his fiance just how grand his love for her was, worshipping her well into Christmas morning.

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usergrantaire · 6 years

Text

Intertwined: Chapter V

A/N: god, i love hearing from all you readers!! here’s another (thankfully less angsty) chapter for ya! it’s also a tad bit longer than the previous chapters, so enjoy!

READ HERE ON AO3

previous chapter: xxx

Éponine held on to Enjolras as tight as she could, sobbing her heart out and mumbling something that sounded very much like “’Jolras, I’m so sorry, I misspoke, I’m sorry, you mean so much to me, I’m sorry, I was an idiot and a coward and I just took off on you like that, I’m so sorry—”

“Shhhhhhhhhh.” Enjolras stroked her hair soothingly, tears rolling down his cheeks as he held her tight, rocking back and forth ever so slightly as she shook uncontrollably in his arms. All he could focus on was comforting one of his best friends, if not his very best friend, one he lived with, the girl he had gotten pregnant due to one drunken night of passion on his birthday. It killed him inside to see her so upset, and even though he had a hunch that the pregnancy hormones were at work, he still hated to see her so hopeless. “’Ponine, it’s my fault. I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have panicked and lied to you.”

Éponine went stiff, looking up to stare into his blue eyes in shock, unsure if she heard him correctly. “What do you mean?” she whispered, her voice quavering.

“I meant what I said that night, ’Ponine,” Enjolras told her quietly, continuing to stroke her hair as he watched tears roll down her cheek. “I l—”

“Stop.” Éponine pressed a finger to his lips, not wanting him to say it. It would only make things so much scarier and everything would feel realer, and she didn’t think she could handle his emotional baggage on top of her own. “Don’t say it.”

“Why, ’Ponine?” Enjolras whispered, rather incredulous. Hearing the pain and hurt in his voice only made her feel even worse.

“’Jolras, you don’t get it!” Éponine cried, sobbing even harder and trembling all over from the sheer force of her sobs. “I can’t handle that. I’ll start feeling like I’ll end up disappointing you and I’ll get scared that you’ll change your mind and I just can’t handle people confessing like that. I’ll just get scared and run away. ’Jolras, please, please don’t tell me that. Not now. I have too much baggage already.”

“Well, if that’s what you want, then okay,” Enjolras murmured, rather disheartened, cupping her jaw and brushing the hair out of her face. “But just know that I mean it, ’Ponine. I really, really do.”

Éponine curled into him and began to cry even more, heart-rending sobs overtaking her body and breaking Enjolras’ heart. “I’m sorry, Enjolras,” she managed to whisper between sobs, rocking back and forth in his arms. “I wasn’t using you as a rebound. I could never do anything like that, especially with my best friend. Yes, I still need time to get over it, but you weren’t a rebound. You never even came close to being a rebound. You mean so much to me.”

Enjolras softened at her words, wondering how he was lucky enough to have this strong, amazing young woman as his best friend (and baby mama, an annoying little voice that sounded inexplicably like Courfeyrac in the back of his mind added). “That’s more than enough for now,” he murmured to her, holding her close. After some time, her sobs died down and she gazed up at him through red-rimmed eyes, still trembling ever so slightly.

“It’s late. I think you should go to bed,” Enjolras told her softly, pressing a gentle, rather hesitant kiss to her forehead. Éponine’s breath caught in her throat at the feeling of his lips pressed to her skin. “Come on.”

He got up, holding his hand out for her to take, and he gently pulled her to her feet and helped her out of her coat, guiding her to her bedroom. “Do you want me to go out while you change?” he asked tentatively, not wishing for her to be uncomfortable.

Éponine shook her head, wiping away some of the tears with the sleeve of her hoodie and attempting a smile. “Yeah, you don’t have to do that,” she told him, taking her shirt and thermals off right there in front of him. “You’ve seen me naked already anyway, when we… you know.” It shouldn’t be this fucking awkward to say the words “we had sex” out loud, damn it.

Enjolras shuffled rather uncomfortably as Éponine continued to undress in front of him until she was left in nothing but underwear. Try as he might, he couldn’t help but notice how her breasts seemed to have gotten bigger due to the pregnancy and he attempted to distract himself with foul, unpleasant thoughts to prevent a raging hard-on at the sight of her in nothing but her lacy undergarments. He vaguely recalled how she had worn something similar when they had slept together, and he barely managed to tear his gaze away from her as she turned around again, turning scarlet at being almost caught.

Éponine glimpsed Enjolras staring at her for just a millisecond before he looked away the moment she turned around, and she felt her cheeks flush pink as she turned around again to grab some clothes out of her closet, a look of other frustration on her face as she pulled her pyjama pants and sweatshirt on, wondering why the hell he was making her at a loss for words. Why was he beginning to have such an effect on her?

By the time Éponine was decent and ready to just hop into bed and sleep for the next sixteen hours, Enjolras had walked over to meet her halfway, and her breath caught in her throat. A gasp of surprise escaped her lips when he proceeded to scoop her up in his arms bridal-style and begin to walk to the bed with her in his arms.

“’Jolras, you don’t have to do that,” Éponine protested as he put her down on the sheets, her face flushed red.

“Yes, but I want to,” Enjolras replied, sitting down at the edge of her bed once she had made herself comfortable under the blankets. “And besides, you’re pregnant with Peanut. It’s honestly the least I could do for getting you all knocked up.”

“Again, it takes two to tango,” Éponine reminded him, covered in blankets up to her neck. Enjolras turned and gave her a soft smile, that same sunshine smile he often gave her.

“Good night, ’Ponine,” he told her, leaning in to tentatively kiss her forehead before he stood up and walked out of the room, stopping on the way to turn off the lights.

Éponine frowned to herself when he shut the door behind him, not knowing why she found herself wishing that he had stayed with her for a little while more, at least until she fell asleep. Her hand went to her abdomen, which was still quite flat, and she caressed it tenderly.

“Your daddy is a really great guy, Peanut,” she whispered. “You’re going to love him.”

With that, she snuggled up in the sheets once again, falling into a dream-filled sleep.

“’Jolras, I can do things for myself, you know,” Éponine grumbled in irritation as she stood on the steps to their apartment, all bundled up for the winter as Enjolras went back and forth from inside the apartment and back to the car, taking Christmas presents to put inside the trunk as Éponine stood by and watched. It was Christmas day and snow was falling and piling up on the roads, and combined, Éponine and Enjolras had a total of twenty-six presents for their friends as they got ready to leave for Jehan’s place in Brooklyn.

“’Ponine, again, you’re pregnant and you shouldn’t overexert yourself,” Enjolras reminded her, running back inside to grab the last couple of presents and very nearly slipping on the icy steps where Éponine stood shivering.

“I hardly think helping pack up a couple of fucking Christmas presents would be considered overexertion,” Éponine replied dryly, wrapping her arms around herself and shivering. She was about ten weeks along now, and though she didn’t have a prominent bump yet, the area below her navel definitely felt a lot firmer now. She knew that Jehan would be giving out hideous Christmas sweaters at the party, probably even more hideous than the sweaters from previous years due to his absolutely horrible taste in fashion, since the host of the annual Christmas party always gave out ugly sweaters ever since it became tradition for them back in college, so she’d have that to cover herself up. Not only that, but her breasts had gotten bigger and a lot more sore, and she felt as if her bras didn’t fit her anymore. “Jesus, I’m barely ten weeks along and you’re already going all papa bear. I’m not some helpless little damsel, ’Jolras.”

“I know you aren’t. I just don’t want anything bad to happen to Peanut,” Enjolras reasoned as he shut the trunk lid.

“Again, I doubt that helping carry Christmas presents would lead to anything bad happening to Peanut!” Éponine reiterated in exasperation, trudging down the steps. Enjolras got into the driver’s seat to start up the car as she claimed shotgun, and soon enough, they were stuck in Manhattan traffic on their way to Jehan’s Brooklyn loft.

In the midst of honking horns and enraged drivers, Éponine sighed loudly and turned her head to give Enjolras a pointed look. “I told you we should have left earlier.”

“It’s nine in the morning, Éponine!” Enjolras protested, accidentally honking the horn and earning himself a string of foul curse words from the irate truck driver beside them. Turning beet red as he mouthed an apology, he turned back to look at the road straight ahead, sighing in relief when the light turned green.

“Even so! You know what New York traffic is like!” Éponine slouched down in her seat and crossed her arms across her chest, pouting as the car slowly crept along down the streets of Manhattan. “See, this is why I take the subway everywhere,” she grumbled, glancing out the window at the streets whizzing past. In all honesty, they probably would have taken the subway if they didn’t have a fuckton of presents to bring to Jehan’s place for the Christmas party.

After a few moments in which they just sat in silence, Éponine spoke again. “So should we tell them today?” She was rather small and quite slim, and she figured she would start showing soon. Better to break the news to everyone before they all began to question why she was starting to look as if she had swallowed a watermelon in her second and third trimesters.

Having been dreading that question somewhat, Enjolras replied candidly, “If you want to, then go for it, but can you please tell me before you do? Not that you need my permission or anything, but I don’t want to be caught off-guard when you tell everyone you’re pregnant with my baby.”

“Sure thing, chief,” Éponine quipped, laughing when Enjolras made a face at the way she said it and grabbing the aux cord to plug her phone in, announcing to nobody in particular, “I’m turning on some music.”

“You better not play trash,” Enjolras deadpanned as he drove, keeping his eyes on the traffic ahead and not even paying attention to what Éponine was doing.

“You know I have fantastic taste,” Éponine retorted lightly, turning on the Anastasia cast recording and beginning to sing along.

After an hour and a half of Éponine loudly singing along to Anastasia and managing to talk Enjolras into singing Dmitry’s parts, they finally reached Brooklyn, relieved to be free from the hustle and bustle and the sheer rush of Manhattan. When they parked in front of Jehan’s apartment building, snow had begun to fall again as they got out of the car. “I’m helping carry half the presents,” Éponine told Enjolras firmly, briskly walking around the car to pop the trunk. “I’m not taking no for an answer!”

Enjolras knew better than to argue with a hormonal pregnant woman and let her take half the presents as they trudged up the stairs to Jehan’s preposterously huge loft that his wealthy parents had given to him when he earned his bachelor’s degree and they decided to move to Queens. When they rang the doorbell, the door swung open to reveal Jehan clad in a Christmas sweater that was probably even more hideous than all of his past choices in clothing combined, and the first thing Éponine and Enjolras heard was the unmistakable sound of Courfeyrac obnoxiously singing “Cooking by the Book”. Rolling her eyes, Éponine entered the loft with Enjolras closely following her, looking around at the lavishly decorated place.

“Merry Christmas, Eppy!” Jehan chirped, taking some of the presents from her to place underneath the massive Christmas tree in a corner of the room and smiling down at her. She grinned back at him, gesturing towards Courfeyrac, who was sprawled out on one of the couches, hogging space and singing to himself.

“I’d hug you, but my hands are full, and now yours are too,” Éponine told Jehan apologetically, narrowing her eyes at Courfeyrac. One would think he was already tipsy if he was singing like that, but Éponine remembered how he had been when he and Azelma had been… whatever the fuck they had been. That’s just the way he was.

“Here, I’ll take them,” Jehan offered, not even waiting for an answer before taking the rest of the presents from Éponine and Enjolras and somehow managing to balance all twenty-six of them in his arms, which was no mean feat. “You two are looking good, by the way!” Jehan called over his shoulder as Éponine and Enjolras kicked off their shoes and took off their coats to hang up, taking off their layers until they were in nothing but jeans and T-shirts and fuzzy socks. Éponine crossed her arms over her chest as Jehan came back to her and Enjolras with two grotesque sweaters in hand.

“Here are yours!” Jehan told them cheerily, gesturing back towards Courfeyrac and lowering his voice to tell them, “He was the first to arrive. He needed some convincing to put the sweater on.” Leaning in, the ginger whispered to Éponine, “I think he likes your sister.”

“Right?” Éponine was relieved to find that she wasn’t crazy after all and that someone else saw how Courfeyrac and Azelma clearly had the hots for each other. “They’re being complete idiots. Friends-with-benefits arrangements never work out, and they’ve let it completely ruin their relationship.”

“He’s gone back to sleeping around now,” Jehan confided as Enjolras left to talk to Courfeyrac, having pulled his sweater on. “I think he’s trying to avoid facing his feelings.”

“Seems like Don Juan is in love,” Éponine remarked dryly. Courfeyrac had a bit of a reputation for really getting around, willing to sleep with any attractive person he had talked to for three seconds at a bar. He was infamous for using sex as a method of distraction, and it had seemed to work well enough for him—until now.

“You and Enjolras came early!” Jehan told her brightly as she pulled on her sweater, frowning down at how one could still clearly see how she had probably gone up one cup size through the sweater. “Courf was the first to arrive, and then you two.”

“Well, you know what that Manhattan traffic is like,” Éponine quipped, walking off to sit down on the armrest of an armchair. “We would’ve gotten here even later if we just left the apartment right now.” She noticed Courfeyrac still lying on the couch singing and called, “What up, asshole?”

“Nothing much,” Courfeyrac mumbled in reply, continuing to sing to himself as Enjolras gave up on talking to him, getting up to walk over to talk to Jehan. “It’s a piece of cake to bake a pretty cake…”

“Of all the things you could sing.” Éponine got up and marched over to sit on his stomach, causing him to wheeze at the unexpected weight. “How’re you? I haven’t seen you since you and Zel—”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Courfeyrac snapped suddenly, shoving her off his stomach and flipping over to bury his face in a throw pillow, screeching into it out of frustration. Éponine raised an eyebrow at his abrupt, uncharacteristically hostile manner. He’s probably just upset about the Azelma situation, Éponine reasoned, crawling over to kneel beside his head.

“Hey,” she whispered, patting his back. “Hey, Courf, buddy. Do you want me to get you a drink? A drink would make you feel a lot better—”

“I don’t want a drink right now,” Courfeyrac mumbled, his voice muffled by the pillow. “Why don’t you go get one?”

“I’m, uh, not drinking,” Éponine told him, ruffling his dark curly hair.

Courfeyrac raised his head to stare at her incredulously, snorting. “Éponine Amélie Thénardier, not drinking? Never thought I’d see the day.”

“Shut the fuck up.” The sound of the doorbell ringing throughout the apartment had Éponine jumping up, and she ran over to the door, shouting out, “I’ll get it!”

She opened the door to find Combeferre standing there in his winter coat and scarf, a mountain of presents piled up on the floor behind him. “Hi, ’Ferre!” Éponine threw her arms around him and pulled him into a hug, laughing as he hugged her right back, patting her back. She could feel how wet his coat was from the melted snow, and she squirmed as the water soaked into her sweater, quickly pulling away.

“Hi, Ep,” he replied, smiling down at her once she pulled away. His eyes flicked to her abdomen as he lowered his voice, asking quietly, “How are you feeling?”

“What—” She then remembered how Enjolras had told her yesterday of how he had told Combeferre of the pregnancy after he found the ultrasound photo on the fridge. “Oh. I’m fine. A little nauseous, but fine.”

“You know I’m studying to be an OBGYN, right?” Combeferre reminded her as he pulled off his coat to hang up on the coat hanger by the door. Since the Amis were there so often, Jehan had taken it upon himself to label each hook with each of their names to avoid any confusion. “You can always ask me about these things.”

“I’m fine, ’Ferre, really,” Éponine reassured him, the corners of her lips turning up in a wry smile. “Everything’s fine. How’s med school going?”

“Don’t change the subject, Éponine,” Combeferre gently chided, taking her wrist in his hand. Lowering his voice so nobody else would hear, he asked, “Really, are you feeling all right? How far along are you?”

“I’m okay,” she assured him, forcing a smile. “I’m about ten weeks along, give or take.”

“You’re pretty small,” Combeferre commented, looking her up and down and sizing her up. “You’re probably going to start showing soon. When are you going to tell the others?”

“I’m planning on doing so today,” Éponine replied, her eyes flicking towards Enjolras and catching him seeming as if he was watching her chat with Combeferre before he quickly looked away the moment she glanced at him. “Better to get it over with.”

“We’re here for you, Éponine,” Combeferre assured her, taking her hand and giving it a friendly squeeze. “Don’t ever think otherwise. We would never dream of judging you for… well, you know. We love you.”

“I know. I love you guys too. Thanks, ’Ferre, you’re the best.” Éponine pulled him into yet another hug, trying to convey how grateful she was in a wordless hug before going back to sit by the fire, pulling a blanket off of Courfeyrac despite the man’s protests and wrapping it around herself. Snow was steadily falling outside as the fire roared in the fireplace, warming her face up as she wrapped the blanket tighter around herself, lost in her thoughts. She wondered how the pregnancy was going to affect her teaching—she loved those little shits she taught; she loved teaching art to them. Would pregnancy change all that?

She looked around at the massive loft—there was mistletoe hanging from all parts of the ceiling and tinsel and fairy lights everywhere, even on the railing of the stairs leading up to what she assumed was Jehan’s bedroom. The enormous Christmas tree in the corner reached the ceiling and led Éponine to wonder how the hell Jehan managed to get the silver star on top, and it was absolutely covered in ornaments and fairy lights, presents piled high underneath. She could barely resist the urge to crawl over and shake the presents meant for her like she used to do when she was a child and her parents weren’t as shitty as they had turned out to be. Glancing at the ornaments now, she noticed that most of them were glass photo ornaments, commemorating past Christmases with all of the Amis and quite a few events that they had all come to consider defining moments in their friendship. There was a picture of all of them in front of the Gershwin Theatre when they had all finally decided to see Wicked; a photograph of Musichetta, Cosette, Azelma, and Éponine herself standing in front of the Hogwarts Express at Universal Studios, all of them wearing their respective Hogwarts house robes; Grantaire and Courfeyrac cheering Gavroche on at one of his high school baseball games; Enjolras looking completely unamused in Mickey Mouse ears as everyone else forced him into taking a picture with Mickey at Disney World; several photographs of all of them at NYC Pride through the years; and God knows what else. Éponine found herself smiling at all the pictures and the memories they held, and she didn’t even hear an all too familiar voice shrieking her name until she was tackled by a blonde, five-foot-two ball of actual sunshine wearing a horrid Christmas sweater and a little Santa hat.

“Eppy!” Cosette shrieked in her ear, squeezing the other woman tight and nearly knocking the wind out of Éponine. She gritted her teeth and faked a smile as Cosette pressed a kiss to her cheek, as was her way of greeting all of her friends. Éponine groaned inwardly. Will she ever get the fuck over this ridiculous crush? She knew that Cosette liked girls; she just happened to be pansexual and engaged to Marius, so any hopes of ever getting with her had flown out the window completely when they first announced their engagement several months ago. “Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas, Cosette,” she replied softly, rolling her eyes in amusement as Cosette squeezed the breath out of her. “How are you?”

“Oh, I’ve been great!” Cosette let go of Éponine and sat down beside her, bouncing up and down. The young woman practically radiated enthusiasm, and Éponine couldn’t help but feel as if her spirits had been lifted up, if only slightly, by Cosette’s mere presence as the blonde yammered on, “The wedding plans are all set, I love being a first grade teacher so far, and oh, I got you something for Christmas!”

Éponine gave Cosette a tight-lipped smile. “You shouldn’t have.”

“Nonsense, you’re one of my best friends,” Cosette told Éponine, her wavy, blonde hair bouncing along with her. “Also, I have a huge, huge favour to ask you. So Marius and I have decided that the wedding’s going to be in May, a spring wedding, in Central Park.” She paused for dramatic effect before squealing, “Will you be one of my bridesmaids?”

Éponine nearly choked on her own spit at Cosette’s request, caught completely off-guard. Here the blonde was, asking her to be a bridesmaid in her wedding, which was going to be held in May. She was going to be seven months along at that point! She was going to look like a fucking whale and draw all the attention away from the bride with her massive stomach!

“Are you okay?” Cosette’s brow furrowed in confusion at the look on Éponine’s face. “I mean, you don’t have to if you don’t want to, but I love you, Eppy, and I’d really love for you to—”

“I’ll think about it,” Éponine interjected, cutting her off. “Cosette, I love you, but I’ll have to think about it first.”

“Oh, sure, take your time!” Cosette pressed another kiss to Éponine’s cheek, driving the brunette even more insane as she felt something akin to a burning sensation on her cheek where Cosette’s lips met her skin, before Cosette jumped to her feet to join Marius and Courfeyrac. “No rush. It’s only December, after all. We will have to choose bridesmaid dresses soon, though.” With that, she bounced away, a spring in her step as per usual. Éponine sighed and pulled the blanket tighter around herself, wondering what the hell Cosette—and everyone else, for that matter—would think once Éponine told them all she was knocked up.

“Are you okay?” She jumped at the sound of Enjolras’ voice and turned to see him sitting down beside her before the fireplace. She sighed and shook her head.

“No,” she mumbled, pouting petulantly and shrinking into her blanket as she scooted closer to Enjolras, who instinctively put an arm around her as she laid her head on his shoulder. “I’m tired and nauseous and I feel as if I’m going to throw up but I’m not going to do that because then everyone will suspect something and someone will inevitably guess that I’m knocked up and steal away the honour of telling everyone from me.” She huffed in irritation and drew back from Enjolras, turning away and scooting closer to the fire, feeling the heat on her face.

“Do you want me to get you a drink or something?” Enjolras offered quietly, an unreadable look in his eyes as he gazed at a desolate Éponine. “I could get you some punch.”

“No, thanks,” Éponine muttered, pulling her legs towards her chest and burying her face in her knees. “It’ll just remind me of the fact that everyone else can drink alcohol while I can’t. I guess I’ll just sit here and sulk.”

“Well, okay, then.” Enjolras got up and stared at Éponine in concern for a few moments too long before going to the kitchen to speak with Combeferre and Courfeyrac, the latter having cheered up significantly since the former’s arrival. The two of them were sharing a bottle of wine over the kitchen island as Enjolras approached them.

“Hey, what’s up with Ep?” Courfeyrac asked, taking a swig of his wine and proceeding to let out a burp. “She seems out of it. She’s not drinking! Éponine never doesn’t drink!”

“Double negative,” Combeferre pointed out offhandedly as he took a sip of his wine, exchanging a knowing look with a red-faced Enjolras, who obviously knew exactly what was up with Éponine. “She’s fine. She told me so.”

“She seems really out of it,” Courfeyrac said, chugging the rest of his wine and letting out a long, contented sigh as held out his glass for Combeferre to refill, at which time he turned to Enjolras and asked rather accusingly, “Enjy, did you do something?”

“No,” Enjolras denied instantly, turning even redder. As a matter of fact, he had done something, but there was no way in hell he was going to tell Courfeyrac what exactly it was that he had done. He’d never hear the end of it if he did.

“You live with her,” Courfeyrac pointed out, taking a sip of his wine. He patted Combeferre’s shoulder, rather irritated that most of his friends were taller than he was. Being five foot seven hurt his otherwise massive ego. “And aren’t you like in love with her or something?” At the look on Enjolras’ face, Courfeyrac snorted rather derisively and continued, “Oh, don’t look so surprised, you can’t hide your feelings to save your fucking life. How do you think we found out about your crush on Feuilly back in college?”

“Jesus Christ, will you ever let me live that down?” Enjolras groaned, grabbing a glass and reaching out to take the bottle of wine from Combeferre to pour himself a drink. He wasn’t one to drink, but he supposed one glass wouldn’t hurt. He knew that his little thing for Feuilly way back when was the first time he had really fallen hard for someone, but damn, his friends didn’t have to make such a big fucking deal out of it years later.

Courfeyrac smirked. “Never, my friend. Never.” He raised his glass to bump it against Enjolras’ in a toast, laughing and saying, “Merry Christmas!” just as the door swung open.

“What’s up, fuckfaces?” Grantaire, as always, had to make a dramatic entrance, walking into the loft with shades on and raising his arms to spread them wide. Joly and Bossuet were close behind with Musichetta, carrying presents; Musichetta had her arms crossed across her chest, rolling her eyes in amusement as they entered the loft with a fuckton of presents to place underneath the Christmas tree. Grantaire took his coat off to hang up and basically ran over to the fireplace once his shoes were off, and he fell to his knees to embrace Éponine. “I haven’t seen you in some time! How are you, Ep?”

“Fine as always,” Éponine lied, forcing herself to smile at her best friend since high school. “Sorry I’ve been MIA. How are things? How’s Gav? Where is he?”

“He’s coming with Azelma,” Grantaire told her, putting an arm around her as he made himself comfortable in front of the fire. Éponine snuggled up to him almost immediately, laying a head on his shoulder and staring at the sparks flying before her eyes. “He’s doing just fine. I mean, there’s the senioritis and all, but it’s not that bad right now. I’m helping him out with college apps. NYU’s his top choice.”

“Good for him,” Éponine commented rather absently, staring into the dancing flames. “I got you a present.”

“So did I!” Grantaire replied unusually happily. Éponine reasoned that it was probably the holiday cheer.

“Where’s Toby?” Éponine questioned, referring to Grantaire’s little pet Yorkie.

“He’s with my sister for the day. The poor thing has a cold.” Standing up, he told her, “I’m going to go get a drink. Do you want me to get you one?”

“No, thanks,” Éponine replied, repeating her words from earlier. “I’m not drinking.”

Grantaire furrowed his brow in surprise at her statement; besides himself, she was the last person he expected to not be drinking. As she pulled away from him to sit alone in front of the fire, he got up and went over to the kitchen, glancing over his shoulder at her as she finally dropped the blanket and went over to stare out the window. Once he reached Combeferre, Courfeyrac, and Enjolras in the kitchen, he asked curiously, “What’s up with Ep?”

“We don’t know!” Courfeyrac replied irritably, drinking his wine. “She seems really out of it today.”

“How can she be? It’s Christmas!” Grantaire pointed out, grabbing the bottle of wine from Enjolras before the man could protest and downing the whole thing, much to the golden-haired man’s disdain.

“That’s what I was wondering,” Courfeyrac huffed, walking away to talk to Musichetta. Combeferre and Enjolras shared a knowing, meaningful look before the former walked off, presumably to talk to Éponine. Grantaire narrowed his eyes, having seen the look on both of the men’s faces, and he made a sudden noise that oddly resembled a crow’s, startling Enjolras.

“You two know something!” Grantaire realised out loud, his tone rather accusing as he eyed Enjolras suspiciously. “Is Éponine all right?”

“She’s fine, R,” Enjolras told him in exasperation. “I live with her, for fuck’s sake. I’d know if something was wrong.”

Although he still wasn’t quite convinced, Grantaire said nothing more of it and merely placed his elbow on Enjolras’ shoulder, leaning against the taller man as he observed Éponine from afar. “Is it just me, or have Éponine’s boobs gotten bigger?”

Enjolras turned beet red at Grantaire’s offhand statement just as the other man turned to glance at him, and Grantaire cackled at Enjolras’ reaction, amused beyond belief at how adorably in love with Éponine the blond was. “God, you should see the look on your face! You like her, don’t you?”

“I thought that was old news,” Enjolras gritted through clenched teeth, not even bothering to deny it since everyone obviously saw how he was lying anyway.

“Have you managed to tap that yet?” Grantaire continued, grinning mischievously when Enjolras became even more flustered, turning even redder at Grantaire’s words.

“N-no,” Enjolras lied through his teeth, visibly flustered. He ran his fingers through his golden curls absent-mindedly as Grantaire eyed him with suspicion, not quite believing him.

“Huh.” Grantaire went back to watching Éponine from a distance, mumbling absently, “I’ve tapped that once. It was weird. Going down on your best friend is weird. Nice, but weird.”

“You don’t say,” Enjolras replied dryly, mildly disturbed as he rolled his eyes and shoved Grantaire’s elbow off his shoulder. “Also, that’s too much information, thank you very much. Why don’t you go talk to Bossuet or something? I need some time alone.”

“Sure thing, chief,” Grantaire quipped, slinking off to join Joly and Bossuet on one of the couches. Enjolras sighed and drank whatever was left of his wine, his mind occupied with thoughts of Éponine and Peanut, exhaling deeply and placing the empty glass on the kitchen island. Just when he thought he was finally alone, Marius approached him, and he groaned internally.

“What do you want?” Enjolras asked rather snappishly, growing impatient. He just wanted—no, needed some time alone, damn it! Why did his friends have to make it so hard?

“Calm down, I was just about to ask you to be a part of my wedding,” Marius replied, unfazed by Enjolras’ curt manner. “It’s going to be in May. Will you be one of my groomsmen?”

“Yeah, sure, why not?” Enjolras brushed the other man off, not even thinking twice about what exactly it was that he was agreeing to. A smile lit up Marius’ face as the ginger-haired, freckle-faced law student went off, grinning and thinking that that hadn’t been too hard. He adored Enjolras like an older brother, and although it seemed to get on Enjolras’ nerves sometimes, Marius had gotten used to the terse replies he often got from the up-and-coming lawyer.

Meanwhile, Combeferre had tentatively approached Éponine at the window to see if she was really okay. “Éponine, really, are you all right?” he asked as she turned at the sound of his voice.

“Combeferre, I told you, I’m fine,” Éponine reassured him, beginning to grow tired of how concerned he was. She knew he meant well, but she was just pregnant; it wasn’t like she was dying. “A little nauseous, yeah, but not enough to throw up yet.”

“Well, just let me know if you’re feeling all funny,” Combeferre told her, putting an arm around her as she did the same. “I could help you out.”

“Well, I’m really craving some ice cream and ketchup now,” Éponine told him, smiling up at him innocently.

Combeferre quickly backtracked, saying, “Yeah, I can’t help you there.” He had to restrain himself from gagging at the mere thought of her bizarre request, thinking that no one could possibly find ketchup on ice cream appealing. Then again, what the hell did he know? He wasn’t the one with the pregnancy cravings.

Soon enough, Azelma, Gavroche, Feuilly, and Bahorel had arrived, completing their little gang of misfits quite nicely, and soon enough Courfeyrac was standing on a chair, shouting out, “Everyone’s here! Let’s play a game!”

“Better not be a drinking game,” Éponine muttered to herself as she went over to the centre of the living room where everyone was gathered, sitting in a circle on the rug by the fire.

“Truth or dare!” Courfeyrac crowed, plopping down next to Gavroche. “Who’s in?”

“This is Christmas and that is a spectacularly terrible idea, but why the fuck not, right?” Musichetta grabbed Éponine’s hand and pulled her down to sit next to her. “How are we going to do this?”

Grantaire pulled out an empty wine bottle from seemingly nowhere and placed it in the centre of their large circle. “I go first,” he declared, ignoring everyone else’s complaints and protests as he spun the bottle, an evil, absolutely vile little smirk appearing on his face when it landed on Enjolras.

“Okay, Enjy, truth or dare?” the brunet asked. Everyone turned to glance at Enjolras, who almost immediately turned beet red when he felt everyone’s eyes on him.

“We’re not in high school anymore, R,” Enjolras replied in a monotone. “This is so—”

“TRUTH OR DARE!” Grantaire shouted, his voice louder than he himself had expected it to be.

“Dare!” Enjolras yelped, taken aback by the other man’s tone of voice. He knew all sorts of questions that Grantaire could ask if he had chosen truth, and he was not going to tell everyone he and Éponine had slept together until she told him it was okay to do so.

“Okay, I dare you to go into the closet with Éponine for seven minutes,” Grantaire told him smugly, smirking as all the colour drained from Enjolras’ face and Éponine’s indifferent expression morphed into one of objection.

“R, might I remind you this is truth or dare,” Éponine protested, fire in her dark eyes. “Not seven minutes in heaven. We’re not fourteen, for fuck’s sake.”

“That’s the dare!” Grantaire insisted. “Take it or remove an article of clothing!”

“I’m right here!” Gavroche pointed out heatedly.

“Yeah, we’re not doing strip truth or dare,” Joly chimed in, shaking his head vigorously as he scrunched up his nose in distaste.

“Well, Ep, Enj, into the closet you go!” Grantaire forcibly pulled the both of them to their feet and ushered them into the closet despite their myriad protests. “Éponine, shut up and stop making closet jokes. We know you two are out; we all are, heterosexuality is overrated as fuck. Get in there.” With that, the brunet closed the door behind Éponine and Enjolras, leaving them both trapped in a dark closet together.

Éponine groaned and fell back against the wall, sliding to the floor in defeat. “Well, we’ve got seven minutes. We might as well talk.”

Enjolras nodded in agreement and sat down across from her, crossing his legs. “’Ponine, are you feeling okay?”

“Why does everyone keep asking me that?” She made bewildered gesticulations, her brow furrowing in frustration as she attempted to work out why the hell everyone seemed to be so worried about her. “I’m fine, ’Jolras! I’m perfectly okay! It’s not like I’m going to throw up anytime soon!”

“Okay, okay! Got it!” Enjolras raised his hands in surrender before the both of them fell silent once more, contemplating what else to say. After three minutes or so, Éponine spoke again.

“So how do you feel about all of this?” she asked, pointing to her flat abdomen. “You’re going to be a daddy, ’Jolras.”

“I’d prefer the term father or even just dad, thanks,” Enjolras replied dryly, trying not to think about the unfortunate associations with the word daddy. “I’m… pretty excited, to tell you the truth. I’ve always wanted a kid. I mean, yes, this is a lot sooner than I expected, but I always did want a kid.” In all his wildest dreams, he never would have imagined that Éponine would end up becoming the mother of his child.

“You better thank me,” Éponine pretended to huff, crossing her arms across her chest and feigning disdain. “I’m going to be the one carrying your baby and I’ll have to be the one having to deal with the stretch marks and swollen feet and whatnot.”

Enjolras laughed and scooted over to sit next to her, putting an arm around the young woman as she laid her head on his shoulder, readily accepting his embrace. She thought she felt an odd sort of fluttering in her chest at the feeling of his fingers brushing hers. “You’re the greatest friend I could ever ask for, ’Ponine,” he whispered, leaning his head on hers and ignoring how loudly his heart was pounding, practically hearing how hard and fast his heart was beating. “I can’t thank you enough. I promise I’ll help raise and take care of Peanut just as much as you will. I’m not going to let do you all the hard work.”

“Should I tell them when we get out of this closet?” Éponine questioned, turning her head to look up at Enjolras, a strange, foreign look in her eyes. Was this still just the pregnancy hormones acting up? “I mean, we should probably just get it over with.”

“Sure, go ahead,” Enjolras replied, kissing her forehead and making her cheeks grow warm. “We’ll just figure out how to deal with everyone’s reactions on the spot.”

Éponine lifted her head to gaze tenderly into his eyes, her lips curving into a soft little smile as Enjolras smiled back. His heart skipped a few beats when she leaned in ever so slightly, her tiny movement barely noticeable, and after pausing for a split second, she leaned in even more, and he could practically hear his heart pounding in his chest as his eyes closed, moving in just slightly as well before the moment was completely ruined by Courfeyrac throwing open the door.

“Time’s up, losers!” he shouted as they quickly pulled away from each other, blinking at the sudden light that flooded the closet. Her face turning a faint shade of pink, Éponine rolled her eyes as she got to her feet, Enjolras doing the same, and all the Amis save Gavroche all seemed visibly disappointed that nothing particularly sexy seemed to have happened. Realising this, Éponine rolled her eyes once more and huffed, “You know, if you guys wanted us to have sex that badly, you should’ve given us more than seven minutes.”

“Haven’t you ever heard of quickies?” Courfeyrac snarked in response. “Okay, since you’re already there anyway, Éponine, truth or dare?”

“Truth,” she responded without hesitation, turning her head and glancing up at Enjolras to see him nod slightly.

“Okay, why the fuck have you been acting so weird?” Courfeyrac questioned, walking towards her. When Éponine raised an eyebrow, he specified, “You’re not drinking, which is weird since you’re usually the second person to get drunk after R whenever we all hang out together, you’re all moody and shit, and you’re not as enthusiastic anymore about these stupid childish games we like to play when we’re all together. So spill—what’s the matter?”

Éponine took a deep breath, mentally preparing herself for the reaction she was bound to get. Enjolras noticed how jittery she seemed to be and took her hand in his, squeezing it in reassurance. She looked up at him and smiled appreciatively, letting go of his hand after he squeezed it and taking several deep breaths to compose herself. “Guys, I’m afraid I haven’t been completely honest with you.”

Azelma’s eyes widened when she realised what exactly Éponine was about to confess, and when Gavroche turned to look at his sister and open his mouth to say something, she merely shushed him and gestured back towards Éponine. Combeferre caught Enjolras’ eye, and the latter nodded ever so slightly when Combeferre mouthed a question. Is she going to…?

“Spill!” Grantaire called out, looking as if he was about to explode from the suspense.

Taking a deep breath, Éponine blurted out, “I’m pregnant.”

A/N: i would apologise, but i feel no remorse for the cliffhanger. 😈

stay tuned for the next chapter, guys!! likes/reblogs/comments would be wonderful!!!

next chapter: xxx

#kei writes #intertwined #enjonine #enjoninepride #•otp: you are my revolution•#les mis #fanfic #modern au #pregregnert verse #pls reblog

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