you can barely even see my shirt

In Sickness and In Health//H.S

Hello Loves!! Thank you to the lovely Nonny who requested this. It was a blast to write! As always my masterlist is linked in my bio and requests are open. Don’t be a stranger. I love you all!! XR


Your head was pounding and your stomach lurched for the millionth time that day. You loathed being sick. Even the smallest cold could knock you off your feet, leaving you immobile for days. And you knew you were a pain in the ass when you were sick. You didn’t want to be around anyone. All you wanted was to curl up in your sweats, Harry’s t-shirt, and a big ass comforter. And that’s exactly how Harry found you.

“Love, I can barely see you under all of that fluff? Where’s my sick girl?” He pulled at the comforter that surrounded you but you were having none of it. You batted his hand away and sunk deeper into the fluffiness.

“Come on, pet. Just want to kiss you all better.” You smiled slightly but shook your head no. He frowned, his eyebrows scrunching together in the most adorable fashion. The stare down lasted all of one minute before you gave in, opening the comforter for Harry to climb in.

“Just know I’m all sweaty and snotty and gross.” You warn as he wraps himself around you. You’ve been cuddled for two episodes of Project Runway when Harry turns his face to yours.

“Just remembered I didn’t get my welcome home kiss.” His lips puckered as he waited for you to comply. You forgo his lips for a tiny kiss to his nose, his lips immediately falling into a frown.

“No. I want a proper kiss.” He pouted.

“I don’t want to get you sick.” You argued, already knowing you’re going to give in. He scoffed and gestured to the predicament you were already in. You sighed and pressed a quick kiss to his lips.

“I did say proper, didn’t I?” You rolled your eyes and leaned in, pressing your lips harder against his. Just as his tongue swiped across your bottom lip, your head reared back, a sneeze escaping from your stuffed nose.

Your hand shot up to cover your mouth, hiding the smile that was quickly spreading across your lips. Harry was still frozen in his spot, inches away from your face. He slowly pulled back from you, shock still marring his features. As he got up off the couch, you let out a giggle that soon turned into a full fledged laugh.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you love!” You chuckled as he walked to the bathroom.

You were still silently laughing to yourself when he reemerged, face scrubbed clean. He motioned for you to open the comforter again, nestling himself into your side once more.

“Haven’t you had enough?” You smile down at him, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

“In sickness and in health, baby. In sickness and in health.”

leaked war of jokes and riddles script

[cut to a meeting with joker and riddler, 90% of the pages are in black ink so you can barely even see the art]

riddler, talking for 16 pages: oh… Jókěr… i know things. i know lots of things. have you seen how low my shirt is? i’ve been working out, joker. But not because i’m gay. i could never be gay. i am here because… i have a proposition for you. you see, we are greater than the common man, you and i. we both like green. i am much smarter and better-looking. but that’s not the point. i am sick of batman asking me where my pot of gold is. and you are going to help me kíll him, with violence and schemes, something to even possibly top my ‘stab a guy for every letter in the alphabet to show him how well i know my ABC’s, so good i can even remember them while stabbing a guy’ stunt. are you in, friend?

joker: wadda hell… bulnosaur? *stabs him*

joker: laughs with his mouth wide open, taking up a full page

K A I R O S | 02 |

/ˈkīräs/

(n.) the perfect, delicate, crucial moment; the fleeting rightness of time and place that creates the opportune atmosphere for action, words, or movement

An arranged marriage AU.

Paring: OT7.
Genre: fluff, angst, a lot of suggestive parts and eventual smut.
Word count: 6 912 -ish
Author’s note: Surprise!! :DD bet yall didnt see this coming hmm. okay but im really nervous about this one.

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“But mom, I’m not going to live with a bunch of strangers-!”

“I had the maids pack your things last night, your bags are outside.”

//

Cliche is underrated.

Especially when you just got kicked out of your own house by your ever so loving parents to stay with seven boys you’ve only heard notorious things about.

Oh, and you’re supposed to pick one to marry by the end of next month.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Could you please do Number 1 with yoongi?

PLEASE DON’T LEAVE ME (YOONGI ANGST)

{Y/N breaks up with Yoongi in the middle of the night, but why?}

I took in a deep breath and held it for as long as I could. If I let go of my breath I would surely lose my composure. I let of of my breath when it was too much to bear and leaned against the wall, sliding down slowly. I tucked my head into my knees, trying to soothe the ever throb in my head. I wanted it all to stop, I wanted to stop hearing his voice. I wanted to stop picturing his face, devastated, hurt, betrayed. “Make it stop. Make it stop. I don’t. I don’t love him.” After minutes of talking myself down from the threatening anxiety, I feel like I’m ready to do this. I stand up and trudge up the stair well to his apartment.

i reach the door. My clammy hands pound on the door ruffly. A minute later, a groggy Yoongi opens his door, startled and rubbing his eyes. I almost forgot it was practically 4am. “Y/N?” He says gruffly. “What are you doing here? Come in babe, is everything all right.” He reaches out to pull me inside but I instinctually step back, out of his reach. “No. It’s not fine. I need to talk to you.” I say, bitting the inside of my lip a bit to keep it from quivering. Yoongi looks at me now, his attention peaked. “What’s wrong?” he asks, stepping towards me again. I step back and I imagine the look of hurt in his eyes with my own glued to the floor. “I was sitting on my bed tonight, going through pictures of us. I saw our trip to the island. The first say we met when I asked for a photo with you. I saw that photo we took at my family reunion in January. When I was looking at the photos, I realized that I don’t love you. I saw it in this one specific photo. We were at the grocery store, a frickin grocery store and I’m pushing the cart and you’re picking up a box of cereal and asking me if we should get that one and Cameron is talking the photo. The picture is so ordinary in setting and shot but the way you look at me in that photo- You just, you’re looking at me like I’m art. Which I’m not. I’m far from it. But you, it’s like you see me as something I’m not. You’re eyes were narrowed and you are barely smiling but there’s just this energy flowing off of you towards met hat i can feel even through my stupid screen. Were in a fucking grocery store buying cereal! I look like a mess, my hairs in a bun with a bandana and I’m wearing some stupid baggy band shirt but you’re still looking at me like I’m a brand new world!” I take a breath and look up at Yoongi to see that he is staring at me just the way he did in the photo. “I don’t understand, Y/N.” He whispers.

“I don’t love you the way you love me. I don’t know what love is and I’m not ready to find out.” 

Yoongi runs his hands through his hair, rolling his neck. “Y/N you aren’t making any sense. Love is us. It’s literally us! You and me, we,” Yoongi hold me by my arms, searching my eyes for any form of doubt. “It’s when you say my name, Y/N. When I feel your presence and when, when. God, Y/N. I don’t understand where this is coming from. Please don’t leave me.” Yoongi is blinking rapidly, trying to hold back the gleam in his eyes threatening to spill. I shake my head stonily. “No, Yoongi. I’m sorry but, this just doesn’t feel right anymore. I feel like I’m forcing myself to feel things that don’t come naturally for me. I’ve been feeling like this for a while. I din’t know what it was but now I know, I don’t love you.” I look deeply into his eyes as I say this.  Yoongi instantly drops his hands from my arms and lets me go. He nods his head, butting his lip so hard it looks like he is smiling. He shakes his head, putting his hands on his hips and walks back into his apartment shutting the door. 

Only when I’m out of the building do I allow myself to cry. I’m in so much pain it hurts to breathe, to think. I get inside the black car waiting outside for me and am greeted by the woman.

“You did the right thing Y/N.” She says, looking at me through the rear-view mirror. “I told you, you’re an anchor on Yoongi’s sail. If he wants to make it in this business. Publicity is everything, he’s gotta have the right people beside him.” I nod my head in understanding. 

“There’s ten thousand in the envelope next to you. Take it.” She says. I scoff, wiping my tears. “I didn’t do this for money, I did this to protect him and you know that. I’ll be leaving now, you won’t have to see me ever again. Unless you’re agency screws him over, than I’m coming for you.” 

I hop out of the car and slam the door shut. I turn the alley right when I hear the apartment door swing open. I lean against the wall and see Yoongi run past me, yelling out my name. It takes everything in me not to respond. To run after him and beg him to forgive me for saying I didn’t love him because I do. It’s because I love him that I have to set him free. 

A/N

Hey thanks for reading! I just want to thank all of our followers for being so kind and supportive :) I love you <3 I wanted to get to know you guys a bit. What are your favourite movies? Mine is Midnight in Paris (I liked it before Tae mentioned it so I was really excited to hear he enjoyed it too!) Let me know :) I love movies and am dying to hear from you guys. Also, Bias? Mine is Chimchim :)

~Armygirl

hands off | stiles stilinski x reader

Originally posted by brittanny-infinity

request

written by: rosie

edited by: emma

anonymous said: if you’re still doing teen wolf, can you do #55 with stiles? love your stuff, keep up the amazing work!

prompt: 55- “don’t you dare lay a finger on her”

chapter song: rollin / khalid

warnings: slight swearing, little smut? drunkness.

parties were a must do in beacon hills, it was a friday night and what better to do then to spend the night drinking cheap booze and dancing with your best friends?

i was trapped in lydia’s room with allison drinking cheap wine as we all crowd around her mirror applying makeup and trying on several different outfits.

the two girls both had boys to impress, not that they really needed the excuse to get dressed up. allison was with isaac now and lydia with aiden leaving me single, as always.

not that i didn’t mind, beacon hills was overflowing with eye candy and i liked to browse.

i twirl in the mirror sighing as i change once more throwing the clothes in a pile on the floor.

“what does one where to a glow rave?” i huff trying on yet another shirt.

allison looks up mascara wand in hand, “im wearing a high waisted skirt and a bralette- wear white it works better”

“oh and leave plenty of skin exposed- yano so your boys can paint all over your body” lydia chirps winking at me.

“leave me alone, just because i don’t have a boy” i moan rolling my eyes as i slip on a high waisted pair of jean shorts that seemed to not leave much to the imagination.

“yes wear those” lydia confirms smacking my butt lightly causing us all to laugh.

“anyway we all know everyone’s after you- what about little liam?” allison teases standing from her spot in front of the mirror.

“baby scott? the beta? no thanks he’s practically a child” i tut shaking my head as i throw a loose fitting shirt over my bralette.

“your not wearing that shirt to the party right?- and what about stiles” lydia offers a slight smirk twitching onto her lips.

i blush slightly tucking a loose piece of hair behind my ear “um no im not- ill take it off once im inside” i try and avoid the question

“and stiles?” allison presses running the wand over her eyelashes pausing to glance at my already rosy cheeks.

“i-um- there nothing going on between stiles and i” i finish my voice shaking as i bend over to lace up my chucks

“oh c’mon you both have been fawning over each other since second grade” lydia tuts ruffling with her hair before reaching for her glass.

“i have not” i defend glancing at my appearance in the mirror, i didn’t look half bad. 

i smile slyly to myself, maybe lydia was right, maybe the tall dangus of a boy had the same insane feelings you’ve had for him since you first meet him in the sandbox.

lydias phone beeps as we pull ourselves together to leave downing whatever left in our glasses, “he’s out front lets go”.

we all follow lydia down the steps and out front to meet aide and ethan in they car, all toothy werewolf grins.

it didn’t take long for us to reach derek’s loft, you wondered how danny and your best friends had managed to convince the rather intimidating and broody hale man to give up his man cave to a bunch of underaged teens.

never the less you were excited that it ant another one of lydia’s parties, you were over throwing up in her toilet bowl as miss martin scowls at me.

we pull into the parking lot and you can hear the soft rumble of the bass, the lights already pulsing through the large window pane, “this better be good” i mumble as i follow my friends up.

after pulling the door open we’re greeted by the smell of booze and sweaty bodies as everyone seems to be painted up, the music blaring. we push through the crowd until we find scott.

allison tugs on my arm and pulls me toward her, noticing lydia seemed to have ducked off already.

“I’m going to find issaac will you be okay?” she shouts but i can’t seem to hear her “WHAT?” i yell back

she goes to respond but were push apart from the crowd and I’m sent hurling toward the floor colliding with a body on my way down.

“fuck fuck fuck” i cuss rolling myself off the body and clasping my head.

“oh my god I’m sorry” the hand lifts me up the light catching on his face to reveal stiles.

i let out a laugh shaking my head back and forth

“well what do we have here, clutz” i tease watching the boy stand upright reaching for my hand.

“coming from the queen of clutzville” grabbing his hand he pulls me upright a goofy smile plastered on his face.

he watches as i glance around looking for my girls but coming up empty.

he senses my nervousness

“everything okay? where’s the rest of the musketeers?”

i shrug running a shaky hand through my hair, looking up to the boy as he shoves his hands into his pockets, it was his tell.

he was nervous too

we stand in front of each other for awhile, in silence as the bass thumps around us the sweaty boxing us in closer to each other.

“so-”

“i-”

we both let out a giggle, my hands shielding his eyes from my blushed cheeks as we both try and erupt into conversation at the same time.

“you first” i smile as we both settle from our laughter.

“i- i think you look really beautiful- and there’s something i’ve been meaning to tell you-”

i step closer trying to hear him over the loud speakers

“what’d you say?” i yell

“i said there’s something i’ve been meaning to tell you” he yells back speaking directly into my ear

i smile, tucking my hair behind my ear ready to hear his response.

“i-” he was cut off by scotts booming voice

“WASUP MY NERDS”

i roll my eyes laughing as the boy throws his arms around the both of us, stiles shrugging away as scott’s ruined wherever moment we had.

“god mccall you stink of tequila” i complain trying to hold the alpha upright without struggling.

i spot the other girls and i quickly excuse myself skipping over to the girls, whom are already covered in paint.

“thanks for flaking on me!”

“why do you still have your shirt on!!! and where’s your paint!” allison yells at me whining.

i roll my eyes and pull my shirt off over my head

“happy?”

aiden & isaac starting whistling giving me the worst case of blush.

“shudupppp!” i complain covering my face with my hands, everyone giggling as the alcohol starts to make it’s way into our blood streams.

“here you need a drink” lydia hands me a red solo cup and i grimace as i smell the vodka, but none the less i knock it back. everyone cheering.

i feel a warm hand on my shoulder and i turn as rest of the pack boys walk over with malia & kira.

the newest werewolf at the front a smirk on his face as his eyes rake their way over my exposed body, his hand still on my shoulder.

lydia nudges my shoulder, pushes me toward the beta.

“need something beta?” i sass clicking my tongue.

scott hits his shoulder playfully everyone seemingly drunk already, bunch of lightweights.

“as i matter of fact i do” he retorts, his words starting to muddle as he steps closer moving his hand down to my waist.

“not on the menu for you dunbar”

mason holds back a chuckle as he watches his bestfriend get rejected again from the girl his been fawning over since he transferred at beacon hills.

liam rolls his eyes slightly swaying almost falling only to be caught by mason.

“maybe you should stick to the juice boxes”

i smile allison giving me a playful ass smack as encouragement.

looking past the laughing group i watch as stiles walks toward the exit to the loft, without thinking twice i grab scotts beer and rush toward stiles.

“stiles!”

i grab his hand a tug him toward me preventing him from leaving.

“where’d you think your going stilinski!”

he licks his lips trying to find an excuse as he mouth opens and closes, no words falling out. only the pure expression of him checking me out.

i tug him toward the painting station knowing he had no real excuse to leave.

i was going to make him stay no matter what. i had a little liquid confidence now so i needed to know what he was going to say before we were interrupted.

fucking scott mccall .

we stop in front of the paint and one of the boys smiles at me as they hand over the paint walking away from the two of us.

i turn forward finding stiles still looks frustrated.

“you really don’t see how they look at you do you?” he admits deflated.

i sigh but he continues

“liam’s totally into you and not to mention everyone else that has a brain i-”

“do you want to talk about liam and boys that want to get into my pants or do you want to paint my body? tick tick stilinski”

he nods, his adam’s apple bopping as he steps toward the paint as he reaches for a brush.

i smack his hand grabbing onto his wrist as i dip his hand into the paint, removing it quickly and in one swift motion placing his wet hand on my bare ass.

i can feel his hot breath on my neck as he stammers to for a sentence.

“don’t use a brush” i whisper dipping my finger in paint.

he removes his hand quickly and i turn so he can see his hand work before turning to face him again.

“are you going to take your shirt off so we’re even?” i bargain as he stares blankly down at my chest.

he fumbles with the back of his shirt and pulls it over his head as i start attacking his chest with paint, as he does the same with me.

i or the final touches on the swirls on stiles chest and put a little on my lips pressing them to his check leaving a neon organs lip stain.

“what did you want to tell me?” i ask eagerly, stepping closer to him

“i-”

im pulled away from stiles by lydia and allison and dragged toward and open space to start dancing.

i smile as khalid fills the speakers, spinning around i let my body move to the beat singing along with the tune as the girls and i dance on each other.

it didn’t take too long for aiden and isaac to find us, making their way over to their respective girlfriends as they start dancing along with us.

i feel someone’s gaze on me and i turn quickly, catching a incredibly gorgeous boy checking me out.

i continue to dance as he edges closer spinning me around so i had room to grind into his hips.

harmless dancing, that’s what i was.

i pushed back against him letting my hips move against his, his body’s starting to roam all over my body.

“theo!” i snap out of my daze when stiles rushes over peeling me off him “don’t you dare lay a finger on her

“c'mon stilinski don’t be jealous now” he chuckles reaching his hand out toward me.

“she’d never go for a guy like you” he teases

i turn to the boy in disgust as stiles tries to make a run for it, i grab his arm and pull him into the body. sending us both off balance.

“what are you doing?” he speaks into my ear as i turn my back pressed against his chest.

“showing theo who’s the real alpha male” i begin to dance into stiles the boy seemingly stiff not knowing how to react.

“just relax and move to the beat” i mutter moving my hair to one side as his hot breathe fans my neck as we move in sync.

i turn and wrap my arms around his neck pressing my lips against his, he kisses back instantly slipping his tongue in before his hands slip down under my thighs lifting me up.

“let’s get out of here” you mumble against his lips as he nods backing away from the groups and toward the balcony. still atched to his waist.

i squeal playfully as the cold wind hits my exposed skin, stiles resting my ass down on the cold balcony edge.

“i swear to god stilinski you better not let me fall”

i cling to him as we both chuckle coming down from our high.

“so what was it that you wanted to tell me?” i ask curiosity taking over me.

“well-”

he was cut off when the door swings open revealing a drunk scott in the arms of kira. she hauls him toward the edge as he throws chunks over the balcony.

“what a mood killer” stiles mumbles gently lifting me from the edge so im safely on the ground so he can tend to his best friend.

i wrap my arms around my body trying to keep myself warm, regretting on ditching my jacket at lydia’s place.

scott continues to throw up, stiles and kira kneeling next to him for support. but the two looked as pale as anything and i knew they couldn’t stomach the scene.

i wonder over to stiles placing my hand on his shoulder.

“go get him some water, ill look after him- and kira find him a towel?”

kira scrambles up and off into the party, stiles reluctantly wanting to leave

“i can stay with him-”

i place my hand on his head

“stiles i know you hate vomit- go inside get some water we’ll be okay”

he nods disappearing through the door as i haul scott up letting him lean against the glass plane.

“throwing up in front of your date? real smooth scotty” i tease rubbing the boys back as the vomit starts to subside.

we move toward the couch as he falls limp into the soft cushions, the same time as the music inside suddenly stopped the yelling of an anger derek hale echoing through the loft.

guess he wasn’t okay with the party after all

the door busts open and stiles struggles through the opening a pale look on his face.

i laugh and him and take the water from his hand giving it to scott before taking stiles hand and leading him over toward the edge of the balcony.

“tell me”

“oh derek just got-”

“no stiles, what have you been trying to tell me all night” i mutter hope in my tone.

“oh that um i um- that thing i wanted to tell you-” he stutters nervously

“yes” i giggle begging him to continue

“well uh- wow- i just- ever since i met you i um-”

scott let’s out a long groan “stiles-”

i turn to face the boy

“Scott McCall i swear to god if you interrupt him one more time i swear to god i will make you into a rug!”

i turn and face stiles

“where were we?”

he grabs my cheeks and presses his soft lips to mine, slow & passionate.

“i think im in love with you” he exhales resting his forehead against my own.

“i think im in love with you too stilinski”

our moment was short lived with the sound of projectile vomit behind us.

“that fucking best friend of yours” i complain

causing him to laugh,

“i know his a pain in the ass”

“you both are” i retort.

“-but you are my pain in the ass”.

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[Mark] Teacher’s Pet (Chapter 111)

All Chapters

“Can I ask you a question?” Mark asks me, tearing my eyes off of my book. My legs over his, he massages my feet as we fly through the night sky above Texas. When I look up at him, his eyes are soft.

“Are you scared of being a mom?” He asks me. His question makes me smile, not because it’s stupid, but because I can’t help feeling giddy whenever I think about the fact that we’re having a baby. I don’t think I’m scared of motherhood yet. 

“No.” I reply. “For the first 3 or 4 years, it’s just about making sure our baby doesn’t die. It’s just about food and poop and safety.” I explain.

“What about after that?”

“I can’t picture it yet, I don’t know.” I shrug. “Are you scared?”

“I’m absolutely terrified.” He nods slowly.

“Why? You’re paranoid, you’ll be a good dad.” I retort.

“What if I’m not? It’s not ways a good thing to be paranoid.” He counters, and despite his light tone, I can sense the anxiousness in his eyes. Now, that I think about it, becoming a dad should be a huge thing for him. His father left before they could make peace; they’ve tried multiple times but it never worked. I’m sure he doesn’t want that to happen with our child.

“We’ll help each other.” I say reassuringly.

“I don’t even know what kind of father I’ll be. I have no idea.” He replies anxiously. “If peanut asked me to go to a birthday party, I don’t know what I’d say.”

He’s funny to watch.

“It won’t happen for years; you have plenty of time to make up your mind.” I murmur.

“It’s adorable that you worry. I shouldn’t expect less from you. I know you want to be a good father.” I reach out and caress his cheek tenderly. “I won’t let you be a bad one.” I decide. Mark nuzzles my hand and sighs.

“I might actually start growing white hair if it’s a girl.” He mutters.

“You’re always talking about growing white hair, you’re going to jinx it.” I scold playfully. He chuckles and his eyes get smaller.

“You’re beautiful.” He says to me, making me smile.

“Thank you.” I murmur.

The next day, with Mark’s permission, I decide to go talk to Bea face to face. Andrew could have lied to me to hurt me; I need to know if Bea really hates me now. Jacob drives me to her apartment in the late afternoon and waits in the parking lot. I knock on her door, feeling nervous. I actually dread this moment, because it can either mean I lost my best friend, or that Andy is a complete douche bag.

Bea opens the door, dressed in a white shirt dress, her hair down and her feet bare. I’ve always been jealous of her looks. Her sweet face hardens when she sees me.

“Hi.” I mumble quietly

“Hello.”

“You blocked my number?” Is the first thing I ask her, not knowing what to say.

“Yes.” She replies simply, crossing her arms over her chest. I blink, feeling stupid. What was I expecting? I call her all day all night and it doesn’t even ring, that means she blocked me.

“Listen, I know you’re mad at me, and I totally understand why.” I trail off, feeling a knot in my stomach.

“Oh, you do?” She challenges, a brow arched. She crosses her arms over her chest. I give her a quizzical look.

“Yes.” I reply wearily.

“So you’re here to tell me you shouldn’t have said I should abort?” She asks, challenging me.

“No, I’m here to tell you that I will support you if you decide to keep the baby. I just wanted you to know my opinion.” I explain.

“So you still think I shouldn’t keep it.” She concludes.

“Well…” I wince, not sure if I should lie to her or not. She wants me to completely change my opinion on her pregnancy and her relationship with Andy, but I can’t do that. I can support her, as a friend, I can do that.

She rolls her eyes and uncrosses her arms, ready to step back and close the door.

“Bea, I know you’re mad but we’ve gone through worse.” I tell her before she can grab the door. “It’s unimaginable for me to lose you over this.”

“You don’t understand, Abigail. You always think you do, but you don’t.” She says, exasperated. This is a redundant remark.

“This is worse because this is more important than everything we ever fought about.” She says angrily.

“One man, Abigail, there’s only one man I could build something with.” She exclaims, holding a finger in front of my face.

“I want to be with Andy, and I want a baby. If it doesn’t work out, I’ll probably end up alone.” She says.

“I’d rather have a family and no best friend, than die lonely and still have you.” She spits at me. Her words feel like a slap across the face. She can’t- did she just-

The knot in my stomach travels up to my throat, my heart twists in pain. At this very moment, I feel our friendship slipping out of my hands.

“This is too important.” She says quietly. “I can’t let you ruin that.”

“I won’t ruin it.” I promise, tears starting to well up inside my eyes.

“I’m terrified by the idea of losing you, Bea. Beside my parents and Mark, you’re the only best friend I’ll ever have.” I murmur, my throat tight with emotions. I don’t want to lose her.

“I’ll do whatever you want.” I plead. My tears and pain are ineffective on her. She stares at me impassively.

“Go home, Abigail.” She mutters, stepping back and grabbing the door.

“Wait.” I gasp, reaching out. She slams the door closed in front of my face. I stare at the wooden door, tears rushing down my face. My lips tremble.

“Bea!” I call, knocking my fist on her door. She can’t just close her door at me like that.

“Twenty-two fucking years, Bea!” I yell despite my tears. “You can’t just-” A strangled sob escapes my throat before I can finish my sentence.

“Bea!” I call again desperately.

“Go away!” She shouts from behind her door.

“Bea, that’s ridiculous! We’ll find a solution, I’ll back off!” I shout back, crying uncontrollably. When I hear no answer, I kick her door angrily.

“I love you!” I cry, but she doesn’t reply. I guess Andrew was right; Bea doesn’t want me in her life. 

Reluctantly, I leave, taking the elevator to reach the parking lot. My face is tear-strained, and I’m sniffling and crying when Jacob sees me, but I don’t care. I climb onto the back of the car in silence, and Jacob doesn’t ask any question. When Jacob starts the car, my phone starts to ring. Mark is calling me.

My throat is too tight for me to talk, but I still take his call. I bring my phone to my ear, sobbing soundlessly. 

“Hello?” Mark calls from the other side of the line. I sniffle, unable to talk.

“Abby.” He murmurs, sadness in his voice. “I’m so sorry.” He croons. I sniffle again, not knowing what to tell him.

“I don’t know what to say.” He says quietly. I don’t want him to say anything. There is nothing to say or do. I just have to accept it and move on.

“Do you want me to come home? I can be there in an hour.” He proposes. I stare out the window, watching the building where she lives getting smaller and smaller behind me.

“Baby.” Mark urges.

“No.” I choke out, wiping my nose on the back of my hand.

“Okay.” He murmurs.

“I’ll see you tonight.” I say quietly.

“Okay.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.” He murmurs, and I hang up.

When I come home, I cry pretty much all evening. I cry hard, I’m devastated and there is no way for me to hold back. As a torture for being such a pitiful excuse of a friend, I go through all my albums of her and I. All our pictures and videos. By the time I finish, my heart is officially broken. Mark doesn’t come home after nine pm. When I fall asleep after crying my eyes out, he’s still not here.

-

“Hey.” I hear Mark’s soft voice in my head. “I’m sorry I’m coming home so late. I had some complications at work.” He apologizes.

“What time is it?” I ask, keeping my eyes closed.

“Almost ten o'clock.” He says. I’m still so sleepy.

“Dinner. I forgot, I’m sorry…”

“No, it’s okay, baby. I ate with Letitia in my office.” He says. I drift.

“You’re beat, baby. Should I carry you to bed?” Mark proposes kindly.

“No.” I shake my head, sleep looming over me.

-

I wake up the next day in our bed, even though I remember falling asleep on the sofa. Mark is already gone. His side of the bed is empty and cold. I sit up against the headboard, my head pounding. There is a folded cloth on the bed at my feet. Frowning, I reach out and grab it. It’s one of my dresses. A read knee-length dress with short sleeves and a sickening cleavage. Mark must have laid it out for me. But why?

I fold the dress and put it back where it was before getting out of bed. When I pull my nightgown up to pee, I feel something stuck on my butt cheek. I quickly grab it before my pee stars to flow out and take a look. It’s a yellow post-it.

Dinner tonight. Be ready when I come home - M x

I burst out laughing, shaking my head. He stuck it on my ass.

I brush my teeth and hop into the shower. In my bathrobe, while my skin dries, I decide to call my prankster.

“Hello?” Mark says as he picks up.

“You stuck it on my butt, you idiot.” I grin, and he chuckles like the proud little boy he is.

“You were sticking your ass at me when I woke up.” He explains.

“You’re a child.”

“I had morning wood, I could have done something else.”

“I would have preferred that, honestly.” I retort.

“Oh, I’ll remember that tomorrow morning.” He replies, making me giggle. Hearing his voice already makes feel better. I know he’s trying to cheer me up.

“I have to go now, baby. I want you in that dress when I come home. Make yourself pretty for me.” He murmurs, making my stomach flutter. I love getting pretty for him.

“Okay, I will. Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise. I’ll call you later, sweet.” He says.

“Okay. I love you.” I agree even though I don’t want to hang up.

“I love you too.” He says and I wait for him to put an end to the call because I can’t bring myself to do it.

“You’re not hanging up?” He asks after a beat.

“I love you.” I repeat, wanting him to know. He stays silent for a moment, and when he speaks his voice is soft.

“I love you too, Abigail.” He murmurs, and his words diffuse a comforting warmth in my chest. Smiling, I hang up and free him.

When I started to prepare myself for our date I decided I wanted a drastic change in the way I looked. It often happens to me when I’ve been stressed out or when I had too many bad experiences. I got that habit started almost 10 years ago. Some people only do that after New Year’s but in less than five months, I graduated, got engaged, discovered I was pregnant with the most precious peanut on earth, I got married, I have suffered from injuries, I was assaulted multiple times and lost my best friend, and even though I’m not sure if this is over yet I want to find a way to leave all the bad moments behind me. 

Mark comes home later than planned than usual, but when I see him walk through the door understand why. His eyes land on me and he smiles fondly

“Hi.” He murmurs as I stand up from the sofa his eyes scan me from head to toe and he seems really pleased with what he’s seeing.

“Good evening.” I can’t help blushing even though his reaction was what I was expecting from him.

“Wow.” He breathes taking a few steps closer to me. He runs his hand through my long wavy bob.

“You went to the hairdresser?” He asks. I shake my head. I did it alone like every time.

“You like it?” I ask him. His eyes are dark and intense.

“You know I do. It’s sexy.” He says before kissing me and I have to refrain myself from pulling him clothes and kiss him more deeply.

“You look amazing.” He breathes against my lips. His hands slide up and down my back. 

“You have good tastes.” I murmur, my hands curling around the sides of his neck.

“You got a haircut too.” I observe. He kisses me.

“D'you like it?" 

"Yes. You look sexy.” I say before biting his lip gently. He groans.

“I’m not sure I want to take you out now.” He sighs, his hands coming down to my behind. He hauls me close against his chest.

“I want that dinner.” I counter as he starts kissing my shoulder.

“You can have me for dinner." 

"I want to go out.” I whine, pouting. Mark pulls away and kisses my nose.

“Okay.” He caves in. “I want you to have a great time. I don’t want to see you sad.” He murmurs before kissing my pout.

“I hated coming home to you yesterday.” There is sadness in his voice.

“You had cried yourself to sleep on the sofa. It broke my heart.” He cajoles, running his knuckles down my face.

“So we’re going to go out, we’ll talk about what happened, but I promise you won’t cry again.”

-

“She told me she needed to focus on her relationship with Andy.” I mumble, toying with the rim of my glass of water. “She doesn’t want me to ruin her life.” I explain sadly. Mark grabs the hand I was using and links or fingers, pulling my eyes up to his.

“Well, she’ll focus on her baby, and we’ll focus on our peanut, okay?” He says comfortingly. “I’m sure our baby will bring us plenty of happiness to compensate.”

“It still has to come out, though.” I mumble, looking down at my empty plate. Mark squeezes my hand to make me look up at him again.

“That doesn’t mean the fun can’t start now.” He counters before kissing the back of my hand.

“We have a new house to imagine, and a baby room to make in our apartment.” He says.

“A baby room.” I repeat, loving the idea.

“Yes, with a crib, and bedtime story books, and a rocking chair, and toys.” He enumerates, running his thumb over my knuckles. A baby room.

“This is getting so real.” My shoulders rise to my ears briefly.

“I know.” Mark grins. “We could find out the gender by now.” He pipes up. I’m four months pregnant now we could have known the gender since last month but we didn’t because I wasn’t able to go out and see my doctor. In the meantime, I changed my mind.

“I don’t want to.” I shake my head, and he frowns.

“Why?”

“It’s one of those few surprises that are left to people now.” I explain. “I mean, there’s not that much possibilities, but I don’t want to find out before we meet peanut.” I add and Mark nods scratching his chin.

“Okay.” He agrees. We stare at each other quietly for a moment before he speaks again.

“Do you trust me, Abigail?” He asks surprising me.

“Of course.”

“Take your panties off.”

“What?” I blink at him, shocked and maybe offended. He tries to keep his eyes hard and his face composed but I can see a glow of life and playfulness in them.

“Off. Don’t make me repeat myself, Abigail.” He commands confidently; it takes me a moment to understand that all of this is purely sexual. I got confused because I did not think our conversation was heading this way.

I’m not against being kinky and intimate in public and I think a little bit of thrill won’t hurt me. I close my mouth and pull my chair back. I look around to see to see if people are looking at me while reaching under my dress to grab my underwear.

Slowly I slide them down my legs until I get them off, all while making sure people are not watching me and my husband watches me with interest.

When I get them off, I hide them in my fist in turn to put them in my bag that is hanging on the back of my chair

“No."  He stops me and when I look at him he has his hand stretched out to me. At this point I understand he’s having no shame tonight so just hand them over. He smirks. He puts them in the pocket inside his suit jacket, satisfied, and I’m slightly turned on by his shenanigans.

"What are we going to do?” I ask warily. 

“We?” He arches his brow. Right we are not doing anything, it’s all about what he does to me.

“What are you going to do to me?” I correct myself.

“What do you want me to do to you?” He throws right back and I was not expecting that answer at all. I blink confused.

What do I want him to do to me?

“Answer me, Abigail."  He presses.

"I want to forget.” I reply quietly not sure what I am trying to say. “About Bea, and Liam, and Olivia.”

“Okay.” He says simply

“Okay?”

“Okay.”

Before I can ask him to elaborate, the waiter arrives with our food and my stomach wants more eating and less talking

Mark changes subject and won’t answer my questions about his shenanigans. Not wanting our night to be about me bugging him, I give up and tell him about what I have in mind for the baby room and the big house. He tells me about his work tells me he misses his mom and brother and that he would want to have dinner with our whole family.

“Come.” He says after dessert, putting his napkin on the table and finishing his glass of wine. I follow him and don’t ask about the bill because I know they will probably bill him. He takes my hand and leads me to stairs on the side of the dining area. They lead up to mezzanine and a hallway. Mark pushes door like he knows place by heart.

“What’s this room?” I enquire as we step in. The place his lit by dim and romantic lights in the ceiling. The papers are a deep red, but the floor is parquet floor. There is large, white leather sofa, a coffee table, a piano, and further on the side, slightly hidden from us at first, a smaller dining area with a single tale with 6 chairs.

“Some kind of lounge room. I’ve had a couple business dinners here.” He says in a way of explanation. I hear him lock the door, but don’t pick up on it. I walk over to the wall-length glass that gives onto the dining area. From here we can see everything and everyone. The door opens behind us and another waiter comes with a tray of drinks.

“Mr and Mrs Tuan, your drinks.” He announces closing the door behind him he drops the tray on the dining table and puts the bottles and glasses on it. We thank him and he exits the room with a polite bow. Mark finishes his work in serves himself a glass of whiskey but all I can drink is the glass of wine cooler.

“A wine cooler, are you serious?” I complain as he hands me my glass.

“You’ve already had a drink recently.” He counters clinking our classes together before taking a sip of his whiskey

“I miss alcohol so much.” I moan not refusing the alcohol lemonade.

“You didn’t drink that much before peanut."  He points out.

"Yeah, but I need it more now.” I say before returning to the huge glass to observe the soft blabber in the dining area. Mark comes up behind me and drapes one arm around my waist, his hands rubbing my swollen stomach in gentle circles.

“This place is nice."  I observe, leaning onto his touch.

"I was thinking about buying it.”

“So you can eat for free?”

He laughs, loudly, and kisses my cheek. I love making him laugh. I don’t know why he bought me up here, but it’s a nice way to digest the food. I take a second sip of my wine cooler before it’s taken out of my hand by Mark. I turn around and watch my thief as he drops it on the dining table, along with his own glass.

“I didn’t finish that.” I protest behind his back. When he faces me, I remark a drastic change in his gaze. He takes my head between his hands and crashes his lips onto min, backing me up until my back hits the glass. My hands fly to his shoulders as I yelp in surprise, and he grabs them mid-air, pinning them high above my head. His tongue invades my mouth, exploring and trying to take over. I gasp and turn my head away.

“There are people.” I gasp. What he is doing? He knows people can see us.

“I know.” He breathes against my lips, assaulting my lower lip with gentle suckles of his, making me whimper. His hands slide down my arms and trace the curve of my breasts and stomach. He pins his hips against mine, pushing his knee between my legs. I reach down and push against his chest, uncomfortable.

“Don’t.” He snaps, grabbing my wrists and preventing me from pushing me away. I look up at his dark and intense eyes, confused.  He lets me go and cups my face, plunging his gaze into mine.

“That’s what I meant by wanting more of your submission.” He murmurs. “I want you to trust me.”

“I trust you, but-" 

"No buts.” He cuts me off, wrapping his fingers around my throat. He peppers kisses on my jaw line, and I try to relax, but my mind is reeling.

“I don’t like it.” I whine.

“Forget about them.” He murmurs against my skin. His hand slides down my side, my waist, my hip, and slips under my dress, slightly hitching it up. His thumb rubs my thigh back and forth.

“Trust me. Just focus on me and your body.” He says, trailing his tongue down my neck. “I’ll never hurt you.”

“I don’t want to do this in front of people.” I explain, distracted by his finger stroking my thigh, dangerously getting higher and higher.

“Show me you trust me.” He emerges from my neck and looks at me in the eyes. They struck me with sincerity despite the desire in them. “I’m not going to harm or embarrass you.”

“I know.” I whisper, because it’s true. I trust him, but I don’t know what I have to trust him with.

“That’s all you have to know.” He murmurs, and I nod quietly. When he kisses me again, I take a deep breath and try to clear my mind. It takes me a while, but his hand reaches my behind and he gives it a string squeeze, I moan and relax against him. He nibbles at the sensitive skin of my throat, when my faint scars are still making my legs buckle.

“Mark.” I moan. Desire thrums inside me, but I can’t really bring myself to forget than we are most definitely watched. I decide that as long as they don’t see my face, I can overcome the shame. Mark picks me up in his arms and lays me down on the dining table. I watch, breathless as he retrieves my panties from his inner pocket and ties my wrists together. He pulls them over my head and hooks them to a chair, efficiently restraining me. I’m tempted to turn my head to the right to see the crowd’s reaction, but I force myself not to.

“I’m going to make you come with my mouth.” Mark declares, pulling me out of my thoughts. I look up at the ceiling and watch him circle the table while he drinks another sip of his whiskey. He looks serene, while I’m a boiling mess inside.

“And you’re going to keep my glass balanced.” He adds matter of factly. I frown at him, my ragged breathing getting my voice caught up in my throat. He drops his glass on my pregnant stomach. The glass is big and squary, and my baby bump isn’t that big so it stays in place. The glass is cold against my skin.

“That means no moving.” He murmurs, his index finger tracing a line between my breasts. My breathing heaves considerably, waking the glass wobble a bit.

“No panting.” He scolds. 

“I can’t.” I whimper weakly, shaking my head.

“If you spill it, I’ll spank you.” He declares. Everything vibrates inside me. I kind of want to fail on purpose. He hasn’t spanked for a long time. I watch him, and I’m so turned on I’m shocking myself.

“If you succeed, I’ll let you suck me off.” He promises. My god.

Instinctively, I look down at his crotch, discovering the bulge in his pants. My mouth waters at the thought of having his warm and thick cock fucking my mouth. Mark stands behind me and bends, bringing his lips down to mine, kissing me upside down. I shift, instinctively trying to reach up and tangle my fingers in his hair. His tongue dips behind my too lip, a moan bubbling in the back of my throat.  Placing his hands on either side of my body, he trails open-mouthed kisses across my neck and collarbones. I close my eyes and arch my neck, inhaling his intoxicating scent.

“You know; I actually hate this dress.” Mark muses, straightening his back. He traces his fingers up the sides of my arms. I try not to breathe too heavily.

“I like it when you’re home, but not outside. It shows too much of your skin.” He says, one hand slipping in my cleavage. He presses his lips against my neck while his fingers skim over my nipple repeatedly. I press my thighs together and screw my eyes shut. I want to squirm so badly, but it’ll make me spill his glass. He gives my breast rhythmic, soft squeezes while his tongue swirls around that sensitive spot on my neck.

“But it makes it more accessible for me.” He adds, his voice deep. I let out a trembling breath.

“But it makes it more accessible for me.” He adds, his voice deep. I let out a trembling breath.

“Calm down.” He murmurs softly. I try to control my breathing, and the glass stops moving. Mark’s hands leave my breasts and he stops kissing me. I catch a glimpse s of him as he circles the table and stands at my feet, but the glass prevents me from seeing his face. 

Slowly, Mark parts my leg, exposing me to him. I ball my fists as adrenaline rushes through my veins. Mark grabs my hips and tugs me down so my butt is closer to the edge of the table. I close my eyes and feel his lips on my knee. He kisses his way down to the apex of my thigh, but stops before reaching my sex. When he pulls back, a breath I didn’t know I was holding escapes me. He repeats the process, and stops before my sex again.

“Mark.” I whisper quietly. He kisses my pubis, slowly getting closer and closer to my heat. I know I’ll have to refrain myself when he gets there, but I don’t know how. When he finally wraps his lips around my clit, I sink my teeth in my lower lip, which makes the mindless tingles that travel to my core ten times stronger. The glass barely moves. He teases my clit with soft, velvet licks, and slowly, my moans start to fill the room. He moves his tongue in small circles, his hands holding my thighs spread for him. I slightly arch my back to keep my hips down and not move, but I also have to control my breathing so my chest doesn’t rise to much. Air starts to miss quickly in my lungs, and in no time, my legs start to tremble from the effort of keeping still.

“Please.” I beg breathlessly. He licks my cleft down to my entrance, his tongue circling quickly, and his lips suckling on my skin. His soft licks turn into bold and intense strokes of his tongue. It gets too much too quickly, and the glass wobbles dangerously.

“Fuck!” I curse under my breath, fighting the need to thrust against his tongue. My mind is filled with dirty sounds of suction and licking. I start to quicken, still trying to manage the glass on my belly. That’s the moment he chooses to pull away from me.

“Please! Please, Mark!” I cry out, not trying to lower my voice anymore. He gives my clit lazy caresses with his thumb.

“Mark.” I beg.

“What do you want?” He rasps against my skin. God, I was so close.

“Don’t stop.” I plea, struggling to keep my hips still. "I need you.“ I breathe. He pushes a finger inside me, making me see white.

"Ah!” I yell, y toe curling. He unleashes his tongue on me around, moving it around and around on my clit, pumping his fingers at a steady yet agonizing pace.

“Mark, Mark, Mark.” I chant his name, words getting lost between my brain and my mind going blank. "I can’t- please!“ I scream, my orgasm tearing through me like a million stabs of electricity everywhere inside me. I’m vaguely aware of the glass tumbling off my body, but I’m too busy writhing and squirming in agony.

When the aftermath of my orgasm, I convince my eyes open and look down between my legs. Mark emerges, wiping the corner of his mouth with his thumb.

"You spilled it.” He observes, his tone heavy with both desire and disapproval. Everything is still vibrating inside me.

“And you came without my permission.” He adds. Oh, crap. I completely forgot about that.

“I’m sorry.” I choke, squeezing my thighs together, still struggling to come down from my high. Mark usually helps, caressing me and whispering endearing, heart-wrenching words of praise and admiration, but he doesn’t. That either means he’s really pissed or he’s not done with me.

“Flip over and kneel.” He orders, his voice firm. I open my eyes to look at him, gauge my margin of action. I want to protest. I may have only orgasmed once but it was intense, for a reason that still fails me.

“Mark.” I breathe. My heart is still racing. He’s not even letting me catch my breath. I look up at his eyes, and they shock me. The intensity of his stare is unsettling. His eyes are dark, with more than lust or desire.

“Don’t make me repeat myself.” He says quietly, his hands on each side of my legs, grabbing the edge of the table. His words knock the sass out of me. I oblige quietly, shifting so I’m on my stomach, my hands still tied up in front of me. Then, I kneel, sliding up on the table so I’m resting my weight on both my knees and my forearms. I take a sharp breath of anticipation, and I’m rewarded with a loud, violent slap on my ass.

“Ah!” I cry out, my body jerking forward. My skin stings, and it almost burns as it’s painful. He just spanked me. I moan when he pinches the same spot he hit, and it’s involuntary. The pain travels straight to my pussy, becoming a short wave of mindless pleasure. 

He spanks me again, hard. I hiss and bite my lip to prevent myself from screaming. I dig my nails into my own palms to absorb the pain.

I feel his lips on me. Gently kissing the place he already hit twice. His lips opening and pressing closed against my abused skin. He darts his tongue out and licks me, his hand fondling my behind as well.

I mewl, lost between pleasure and pain. He nips and sucks what I’m sure will be a bruise on my bottom, making me groan as each suction of his warm mouth makes my pussy tighten and relax.

He spanks me again, as hard as before, making me yelp. This time he doesn’t pause, spanking me again right after, not giving time for the pain to disappear. He spanks me repeatedly, each slap making me cry out, yell, scream and beg. The sounds of each slap fills the room, almost louder than the sounds that spill from my throat.

I understand quickly that it’s not a playful spanking. He’s punishing me. He said it to me before, if I failed he would spank me. At some point, my cries turn into strangled sobs. My eyes water and pour, tears rushing down my face as I take and take each blow. I never ask him to stop, though. I know he would if I asked him, but I want to challenge myself, trust myself as much as I trust him. But the pain does become unbearable.

“Mark, please!” I yell, back arched, face red and angry. He stops, all sounds fading away, replaced by my rapid breathing and my shaky sobs. His hand caresses my behind in circles.

“I’m sorry.” I howl, my breath hitching as I realize my pussy is rippling violently.

“For what?” Mark’s voice is calm.

“For coming- Ah!” I screech, surprised when he spanks me once more. I squeeze my eyes shut.

“For coming without your permission.” I choke out. I’m rewarded with another slap.

“Ah!” I scream, jerking forward so I can get away from his cruel hands.

“And?” He says expectingly. I don’t know what he wants from me.

“And?” I repeat, trying to focus, trying to think. He spanks me once more.

“Your glass!” I cry out. «I’m sorry for spilling you glass. I’m sorry.“ I murmur. His hand travels from my behind to my back, between my shoulder blades. He pushes my hair to the side, clearing a path of skin of my neck. He nuzzles my neck and inhales deeply.

"It won’t happen again.” I whisper, panting. He trails butterfly kisses across my neck, my jaw and my cheeks.

“I’m sorry.” I repeat. I kind of know he’s done spanking me, but I’m still apologizing to make sure I’m forgiven. He cups my face and kisses my nose.

“You’ve had enough, haven’t you?” He murmurs softly, his thumb wiping my tears on my cheek. I look up at him through my damp lashes. I find his eyes, and they are still hard, but he’s not a total stranger. Deep inside, I see my husband and all his love for me. 

“Yes.” My voice is barely audible.

“Why didn’t you stop me?” He asks me. Because I wanted to push my limits. I take time to register how my body is feeling. Although the skin of my ass is burning, it’s also burning between my legs, making it all heavy and throbbing.

“Because it felt good.” I breathe. Mark disappears behind me. His hands slides back down my body, over the curve of my bottom, and he plunges two fingers me.

“No!” I gasp, my body’s reaction automatic, but in total contradiction with my head. Everything tightens inside me, around his long fingers that wriggle inside me. All my muscles go rigid and tight; air starts to miss.

“Can I come?” I implore, already caught up with that feeling of destruction. I just need to let go. Mark pumps his fingers in and out of me, growling quietly.

“Please, Mark. Can I come?” I repeat, my tors curling. I’m already there, but I hold back, I let that bubble burn in my core. I need to come so badly.

“Can I come for you, please? Let me come for you.” I sob, moaning and crying out as my walls start to shake violently. It takes me all of my willpower. My pussy is throbbing so bad I can feel my heartbeat in it, it’s throbbing.

“Please!” I yell, tears rushing down my face. I kick my feet against the table, unable to stay still.

“I’ll be good! I’ll be a good girl!” I promise, my voice shaking, my nails sinking into my own skin. Mark doesn’t stop, he moves his fingers around and around.

“I’ll be good, please let me come for you.” I beg again.

“You can come now.” He grants after what feels like an eternity. I let go, everything crashing into me at the speed of light, both pain and please exploding inside me. The sensation is both intense and so gratifying I find myself thanking him, multiple ‘thank you’d falling out of my mouth, while my corrosive orgasm erodes my bones.

“Fuck!” I yell, arching and twisting, tossing and turning even if handicapped by my bounds. Mark’s fingers are still inside me, pumping in and out at a steady pace. I shake, I tremble and white out. It’s all too much for me.

When I come to, I’m pressed against a warm being, contrasting with the coldness of the table. I’m still panting, and I can’t feel my body. I blink my eyes open and look up, finding Mark staring down at me with bright and warm eyes. I’m in his arms, sitting on his lap on the leather sofa. Suddenly, I feel terribly vulnerable.

“Mark.” I murmur.

“I’m here.” He says softly, pressing his lips onto my forehead. I grip onto his shirt, holding him tight, and close my eyes.

“I love you.” I mumble. I don’t know why I feel the urge to tell him.

“I love you more, baby.” He sighs against my forehead. His lips gradually move down until he’s kissing my eyes.

“You’re so beautiful.” He praises, his voice soft. I tilt my head back to grant him better access, and he kisses my nose.

“So sexy and erotic. You’re perfect.” He says, pressing his lips against mine. I suck in a deep breath, our lips barely touching.

“Look at me.” He commands, his dominant tone gone. His order feels like a plea. I convince my eyes open, looking up at him through my lashes. He tilts his head to the side, his eyes soft.

“How was it?” He enquires, his arms tightening around me.

“It felt good.” I admit. I did feel really good, as far as the physical aspect of it goes. Deep down, I don’t really know how I’m feeling.

“You did so well, Abigail. You never disappoint me.” He coos admiringly. My heart warms up. Mark feels warm against me.

“I spilled your glass.” I retort, look down at my hand, a little bit disappointed with myself. Mark takes my chin between his fingers and pulls my eyes back to him.

“It wasn’t about the glass. I just needed to be sure you trust me. It was a test.” He explains, making me frown in confusion.

“A test?” I repeat. A test to see if I would in front of-

My face blanches as I realize all of this happened in front of a crowd. I whirl my head around to look at the window. Everyone is busy eating and chatting with whoever they are with. No one is looking at us even though we’ve just had sex.

“It’s a one-way glass, Abigail.” Mark says inside my ear. I snap my head back at him, my eyes wide. What did he tell me?

When he sees my facial expression, he raises an eyebrow.

“You thought I’d let people see my wife come?” He asks, almost offended. Now that I think about it, I know he wouldn’t. For a second I though he did, and that’s why I was so surprised.

“Why a test?” I ask him reproachfully. “I always said I trust you.”

“Because you didn’t know what I wanted from you. I wanted to be sure you still trust me.” He says, confusing me even more.

“And now I know what you want from me?” I arch a brow.

“We both know. You just gave it to me.” He replies, his fingers wrapping around my nape. He kisses my forehead.

“Complete obedience, trust, submission. You were totally mine.” He muses against me. That much is true. I completely gave myself up, but it’s not the first time. I always submit when we have sex, and even when we don’t.

“I kind of got carried away, but you impressed me.” He murmurs. I’m the one who asked for this, but I didn’t expect him to go that far. I don’t think I’m confused because he scared me. He just completely blew my mind.

“I wanted to forget.” I say to myself.

“I hope I fulfilled your request.” He says quietly. Oh, yes he did. I still feel shaken from it.

“I don’t think I can do that on a daily basis.” I blurt out, looking up at him.

“That’s not what I’m asking.” He says softly. “We’ll take it slow. You’re pregnant.”

“I’m exhausted.” I mumble, placing my head against his chest.

“I know. Let’s go home.” He declares, shifting under me.

“Not yet.” I panic, not feeling ready to stand up yet. Mark would offer to carry me, but I’d rather he didn’t, not in public. He hums his agreement, sitting back against the sofa. He keeps his arms around me, his lips against my hair.

“My god, Mark. I can’t believe you did this to me.” I say in wonder. He tugs me away from him, our eyes meeting.

“You didn’t like it?” He asks worriedly.

“You know I did.” I reassure him. “I just don’t understand.” I explain. He eyes me for a moment, but says nothing. He cradles my head back against his chest and just stays there.

“Do you know how a 26-year-old man falls in love with a teenager?” He asks after a beat.

“No.”

“He trips.” He says, and I have to laugh at that one. I cathartic, unexpected bubble of giggles explodes in my throat, and I erupt in a fit. I throw my head back, and he laughs with me, proud of himself. I feel silly, it’s not even funny.

When I look back at him, he’s smiling fondly at me, his already small eyes narrow, small wrinkles at their corners. I observe every inch of his face. Sometimes I forget this man is my husband. Sometimes I get lost between what I know of him and what he shows me. It’s always good to find the man I fell in love with just by looking at him.

“Are you just going to stare at me like that?” Mark asks, his gaze never leaving mine. I bite my lip to prevent myself from grinning.

“You’re beautiful. I want to stare.” I murmur.

“I could do that all night.” He challenges.

“Me too.” I retort. He chuckles, and we stare at each other like two love-struck fools. It’s feels good. Suddenly the playful glow in his eyes faints away.

“I pushed you too far.” He says quietly. My face falls.

“No, Mark-”

“I took you by surprise. You’ve never seen me like this.” He cuts me off. I can’t deny that, but it’s not as bad as he thinks.

“You became another person.” I concur. “For a moment, I thought I had lost you, and I-”

“You were scared?” He asks warily.

“No.” I shake my head categorically. “I just had to look at you, and it was fine. You were still there.” I explain.

“You could have stopped me.” He reminds me again.

“I didn’t want to.” I argue. I enjoyed every second of it. I just wasn’t prepared.

“I enjoyed it.” He admits, his stare growing intense.

“I know you did.” I tease, flexing my ankle that’s lodged between his legs. His cock hasn’t softened yet. He gasps a little.

“I’m not ashamed of it anymore.” He breathes.

“I’m proud of you.” I murmur, shifting so I’m straddling his legs. My knees on either side of his, I wrap my arms around his neck and push my fingertips into his freshly cut hair. He sighs deeply.

“If only you knew just how much I love you. I feel like my chest is going to burst open.” He breathes.

“I love you just as much. I want to marry you again right now.” I counter before kissing him. He relaxes against me, his hands coming down to my bottom and hauling me close. He presses our bodies together, his tongue meeting mine inside my mouth. I hum in content, and when I shift fractionally, Mark groans. His big hands slide down my back, and he pulls my groan against his.

“Oh, Abby.” He moans against my lips. He’s hard for me; he has been for the fast half hour. He kisses my jawline and my neck before breathing heavily into my ear. His breath is trembling and he’s holding my hips a little bit too tight.

“I know you’re tired, but I really need to make love to you.” He mutters, a pleading tone in his voice. His hips buck and he curses under his breath. Mmmmh…

“I’m dying to be inside you, baby. Let’s go home.” He begs, his teeth grazing my ear. 

“Okay.” I murmur, reluctantly pulling away from his chest. Mark readjusts his pants multiple times during our trip home, but he’s not even trying to hide his erection -not like he could anyway. I don’t torture him by caressing his thigh or kissing his neck while he drives, because I know it’s not some game anymore. He doesn’t want me right now; he needs to make love to me. Even if all I did was laying on a table and coming multiple times, I know this night must have been emotionally packed for him. Between the fear of having me rejecting him and not trusting him, and the fact that he got a little carried away when he spanked me, I know he’s more than happy we came out of that restaurant okay, if not better, as a couple.

But when we get in the elevator in the parking lot, I can’t keep my hands off him. I can’t help but want to give him relief and make him feel as good as he made me feel. We’re a kissing mess as we stumble in. Mark quickly presses the top button before I pin him against the wall and devour his mouth. He roams my hands over his chest and sides, and he hauls me close, hands traveling to my behind. He hisses against my lips.

“I’m so freaking hard.” He mutters before I take his lower lip between mine. My hand finds the bulge in his pants. He’s rock hard and ready; so engorged with blood I can feel the heat through his clothes. I swallow his moans as I squeeze and palm him through his pants. He thrusts into my touch, groaning softly. When the elevator starts slowing down halfway through our trip up, we understand we’re going to have company. I pull away from him and turn around, standing in front of him as the door opens on a young woman. After a polite exchange of greetings, she presses a button a little bit below ours and gives us her back. 

Mark snakes his arm around me hand presses his hips against my behind, his hard on straining against me. Poor thing.

He grinds against me, his movement subtle, but I can feel it. His mouth comes down to the junction between my neck and shoulder, and he bites down quite harshly. I know he’s doing that to keep quiet, but in makes me struggle to keep quiet. I grab his wrist and dig my nails into his skin, which only makes him bite and grind harder; I almost lose my balance. When the woman exists the elevator, Mark sighs against my skin.

“Shit. I’m so sorry.” He murmurs, kissing the spot he just bruised. “I need you so badly.”

“It’s okay.” I whisper as the door close again. There is only a dew floors left until we reach our penthouse, and Mark leaves open mouthed kisses on the side of my neck. When the doors finally open on our entry, I nearly leap out of the elevator. I open the front door and step in, Mark following me. He unzips my dress while kicking the door closed and pushes it off my shoulders. I let my clutch bag fall to the floor and my dress follows shortly. I whirl around and Mark kisses me, walking me backwards as I tug his jacket off, before fumbling with his belt.

“Bed. Now.” He growls against my lips. I pull away from him and obey, losing my shoes in the hallway, and my panties in the stairs. When Mark picks me up in his arms and presses our lips together, he only has his boxers on. He kicks the door of our bedroom and I turn the lights on quickly before he throws me on the bed and crawls between my legs. I place my hands on his biceps, run them up his arms and shoulders; and he groans, burying his face in my neck. I slide my hands down his sides and hook my thumbs in the waistband of his underwear, tugging until I feel his warm cock between our crazed bodies. Mark whimpers, almost in pain.

I wrap my fingers around his shaft and thumb his head, smearing precum all over it, making it silky. Mark whines, thrusting into my had impatiently. I pump it a few times to lubricate it. I want him, but I’m still not that wet, and I’m not sure we have time for foreplay.

“I can’t wait, baby. I’m sorry.” He breathes, kissing my collarbones and curling his hips, driving his cock into my fist.

“It’s okay.” I reply breathlessly. God, I’m so hot, I’m almost sweating. I guide his cock to my entrance and curl my arms around his neck, while he holds my hip with one hand. I hold my breath as he eases himself inside me. We both groan and Mark’s grip on my hip tightens dangerously. The stretch is so good.

“Shit.” Mark mutters, curling his hips and sliding deeper between my walls. I feel him swell inside me.

“So fucking tight.” He breathes, hips stuttering as he slithers to the hilt. I suck my lower lip in and arch my body as he pushes his cock deep.

He doesn’t give me time to accommodate, nor to build a rhythm. I don’t think he has patience for this. He starts thrusting in and out of me fast and deep, his face still hidden in the crook of my neck.

“I won’t last a minute. Goddammit.” He grinds out, his teeth gazing my shoulder. I might scream if he bites me again. His thrusts are sloppy and desperate.

“Yes."  I hiss, my nails digging into his skin. When I rack them down his back, his hips ram forward, thrusting so violently my body jerks up the mattress. He moans into my ear, and I repeat my actions.

"You like that?” I ask breathlessly as he pounds on, harsh and earnest. I scratch him down his back and cup his behind, pulling him closer.

“Fuck.” He mutters, and I feel his hips shaking a little, struggling every time he pushes forwards. On hand pushes in my hair and tugs, tilting my head back and making me arch my neck, the other palms the roundness of my breast. I feel his hot breath on my skin as he trails wet kisses around my throat, still grinding his cock against my silky walls. I buck my hips to meet his movements, and he protests.

“Abby!” He moans, letting my hair go and grabbing my hip. He tries to hold me down, but I know it’s driving him insane and it’s what I want. He fucks into me even faster.

“That’s it. Fuck me.” I moan, and he gives my breast a rough squeeze.

“You’re going to make me come.” He whines, nuzzling my neck and mouthing at my throat. I fight him and keep bucking my hips.

“Shit…aaah…baby, baby, wait.” He shudders against me, his thrusts uncontrolled, hips jerking up each time I dig my skin further into his skin. His moans sound like music into my ear, his hot breath fanning my neck.

“I can’t- baby…so good…” He grits, his words barely intelligible. When his cursing and moaning turns into small, desperate ‘uh uh’s, I know he’s close. Whispering words of encouragement, I keep bucking my hips until he spills himself inside me, his hand on my breasts shaking and gripping hard.

“Fuck.” He whispers, leaning on his forearms and catching his breath against my throat, his cock still hot and pulsating inside me. I sigh in content, happy I brought him to orgasm. I found him really sexy and vulnerable. I loved it.

“You’ll be the death of me, Abigail Tuan.” He mutters, kissing the dip at the base of my neck. I run my hands up and down his back. He shifts and kisses my mouth.

“I can’t leave my woman unsatisfied.” He grumbles against my lips, making me smile.

“It’s not always about me.” I murmur. Honestly, I don’t think I could handle another orgasm. I flip us over so I’m straddling him, his softening cock still inside me.

“I just wanted to make you come.” I say, looking down at him. Still breathless, he places his hands on my hips.

“I lost it when you started scratching me with your nails.” He says before catching his lip between his teeth.

“Like that?” I muse, racking my nails down his chest. He hisses, his abs tensing, and nods weekly.

“Yes, like that.” He breathes and winces. “I came way too fast.” He complains. I lean it and kiss his lips, letting his now limp penis slip out of me, along with his warm semen.

“It’s sexy. Makes me feel skilled even though I did nothing.” I murmur, pulling away. “I loved it.”

Mark gazes up at me, his hand sliding up my side and my chest until his fingers wrap around my throat. I toss my head back and sigh, closing my eyes.

“You’re beautiful.” I hear him say, his hand sliding down between my breast and cupping my stomach.

“You’re beautiful too, husband.” I murmur, looking down at him. I take his hand that’s on my belly and bring it to my mouth, kissing his fingers in turns and paying extra love and attention to his ring finger.

“I know this would have never happened 3 years back.” I say, before kissing the back of his hand.

“You’ve made progress. And I’m proud of you.” I murmur, and he watches me with soft and loving eyes. I bring my face down to his again, our lips nanometers apart.

“That’s why I let you come at the speed of light.” I whisper.

“Oh, fuck you.” Mark laughs, his face brightening with thunderous laughter.

A/N drop a comment in my inbox

BTS Reaction To: Their S/O Is Afraid of Lightning and/or Thunder

seokjin: Seokjin looked like a five-year-old child with a candy bar as he skipped into the bedroom, carrying a pizza box. You sighed. It was literally three in the morning.

When you hesitantly nudged Seokjin out of his self-proclaimed beauty sleep to ask for protection from the storm outside, he wordlessly pulled out his phone and dialed his emergency contact number. It was a pizza place.

“When you’re sad, eat,” Seokjin declared, bringing the slice to his mouth for another bite. He spoke with food in his mouth, despite knowing well that this was one of your pet peeves. “When you’re mad, eat. When you’re happy, eat. When you’re scared, eat. When you’re—”

“Okay, I get it,” you interrupted him, bringing your hand to his mouth to cover his obnoxious chewing. You swear, he only did this to annoy you. “But aren’t you supposed to be protecting me or something, like any normal boyfriend would do?”

Seokjin looked at you as if you had just insulted his entire family.

“When have you ever complained about me buying food for you, especially in the middle of the night?”

You tilt your head at his words, nodding while bringing the pizza slice to your mouth.

“You right,” you admit, your mouth filled with food.

Originally posted by seokjinsdiary

Why do all my reactions with him relate to food oml

yoongi: The chances of humans being struck by lightning? Sources say one in a million.

The chances of your beloved dog being struck by lightning? Probably much, much rarer.

Unfortunately, your childhood pet was one these documented cases. Being far too young to have proper judgement, you left your dog outside on a stormy day. You rushed outside after hearing a particularly loud and suspiciously close clap of lightning to find your dog lying on the grass, his heartbeat slowing to a standstill.

So, whenever it thunder and lightning came down particularly hard, especially in the middle of the night, you would at times find yourself sobbing, wondering what might’ve happened if you had taken those few extra seconds to let your dog into the house all those years ago.

The powerful thunder, bright ass lightning, and your worsening sobs was enough to wake Yoongi from his much-needed sleep with a quick jerk, but his tense posture immediately softened once he saw you drowning in tears.

“Y/N?” His voice croaked with fatigue, but his eyes were alert. “Did something happen?”

You shook your head furiously, trying to explain yourself.

“No,” your speech was divided with hiccups, “I promise I’m okay—”

“No, come here.” And with that he’s pulling you down back into the pillows, enclosing the space around you with his body.

“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, okay?” Yoongi whispered, stroking your hair. “The least I can do is hold you until you fall asleep.”

Originally posted by bangtanbtsmut

hoseok: The last time the clock was on, it read 2:12 am. It had to have been at least an hour past now.

Thankfully, you finally found yourself blinking yourself asleep, but a boom of thunder ruined your plans. This thunderclap wasn’t even louder or intense than the others; the frustration of your current state was what had you yelling and bursting into tears.

Huh?” Hoseok woke up from his deep sleep to find you drowning in tears. “Y/N? Y/N! What happened? Bad dream?

No, it’s just that,” you sniffled between words, which came at a million miles per second, “Bad weather always gives me a-anxiety. I have too many bad memories—”

You choked on your words.

Oh, no. Were you having an anxiety attack?

Y/N, Y/N, just breathe, okay?” Hoseok inhaled and exhaled, urging you to do the same until your shallow heaves turned into deep sighs. He then pulled you down with him under the protection of the bed sheets, snaking his arms around you tightly.

Just close your eyes and rest,” he whispered. “It’s okay if you don’t fall asleep; I just want you to be calm.”

O-Okay,” you agreed, finding your inner state of peace until a flash of lightning had you dropping and losing it again.

Oh, God, w-what was that?” Hoseok unlatches his arms from around you to spring up and look about the room, as if an intruder, and not the thunderstorm, was wreaking havoc on your small apartment. You couldn’t help but laugh at the man beside you, no matter how afraid you were in the current situation.

Maybe Jung Hoseok wasn’t the best person to protect you from the dangers of a thunderstorm.

Originally posted by junghosyub

namjoon: “Thank God my laptop was fully charged before the power went out,” Namjoon sighed, typing in the login information to your shared Netflix account. “Okay, baby, so since the point of this is to get your mind off the weather, what genre do you wanna watch tonight?”

So many options filled up the laptop screen. Most of them, however, were series you had binge-watched during his time away.

“I don’t know if it’d matter,” you answer, nuzzling into his chest. “I might fall asleep halfway in, anyway.”

“That’s okay,” he assured you, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “The choice is yours.”

“Chick flick movies.” You said it without missing a beat. Were you sure it didn’t matter if he chose instead?

“God, you’re so predictable,” he mumbled, running his hand through his messy hair.

A pillow to the face was his only reply.

Originally posted by rapnamu

jimin: “Awwwwww!”

The squeal rolled off Jimin’s plump lips; much to your annoyance, Jimin, instead of taking your fear of lightning seriously, thought your phobia was adorable. He pulled you even closer to him, kissing your cheeks.

“Is my jagiya scared of lightning?”

“Yes, but Jimin, please stop—” You weren’t in the mood for his nonsense.

“Don’t you want me to take your mind off your fears?” 

“Well, yes, but—”

His lips moved to yours, cutting your complaints short. The kiss was short and lazy, but it still had the same effect on you, making you forget your worries, well, at least for a few moments.

“Say no more.” Jimin peppered kisses to your jaw, causing you to let out an aggravated groan.

“Jimin—”

Get your knee out my butt—”

How do you know that’s my knee and not something else?” He whispered in that raspy but undeniable voice of his, moving his hand at your waist underneath your shirt to grab one of your bare breasts. Your breath hitched at the feeling.

You’re disgusting, Jimin—”

Let’s just say that your mind was permanently occupied on things other than the frightening weather within five minutes.

Originally posted by nnochu

taehyung: “Here, put this in,” Taehyung handed you an earbud, as he placed the other one in his ear. “Hopefully, we can hear this over the thunder. You haven’t heard my Spotify playlist yet, have you?”

You shook your head slowly. “I don’t think so…”

“Good, because this shit is fire,” he flashed his square smile, something that you can see even in pure darkness. You laughed at the sight. “Let’s put it on shuffle, then…”

After a few taps of his thumb, the first song began. The music didn’t knock out the rain completely, but Taehyung’s willingness to help you through your fear made you forget about everything troubling you at that moment.

“Whenever this song comes on, I think of you,” he hummed, reaching out to hold your hand.

Looking down at his phone, you saw that Dean’s “Love” (ft. Syd, of course) filled your ears.

You beamed at him.

“Baby, you’re so—”

“I’ll fuck you if you let me, baby…” Dean’s addictive voice interrupted your compliment, making you instead turn and glower at your boyfriend.

“You’re so nasty.”

Originally posted by kpopfordays

jungkook: “J-Jungkook…”

Your trembling hand tugged at his t-shirt, pulling at it until he woke up slowly. Jungkook looked around the room, disoriented, until jumping at the sight of you crying.

“Y/N?” Jungkook reached out tentatively to touch your face with his hand. “Are you in pain?”

“No, no, I’m okay,” you sobbed, grabbing his hand with yours. “The thunder just got to me, I guess? I didn’t wanna wake you up, but I just couldn’t take it anymore…”

“Shh, shh, it’s okay,” Jungkook rose up to sit beside you, crossing his legs. You couldn’t help but instinctively rest your head on his shoulder; he took little to no note of it. “Do you just want to talk it out? I don’t care if we talk until the sun comes up. As long as that makes you feel better about things.”

You smiled weakly at his words. Jungkook was usually unconfident in his abilities to help others out, but he always went the extra mile in his efforts.

“Yeah,” you reached out to grab one of his hands, which he immediately squeezed in return. “That sounds perfect.”

Originally posted by theking-or-thekid

Here For You.

-Bobby x Reader

-Expecting parents au, fluff

-I can already imagine this fluffy ball of sunshine with his future kids. He’s honestly so caring and amazing with everyone he meets that i’d bet he’d be the dad of all dads. Also, I am so sorry this only goes up now even though you sent this in like months ago. School and work got rough and unfortunately I didn’t get a chance to do any writing the past month or two. I’m really really really sorry for putting it up so late. I hope you haven’t given up on waiting for it and that it fits your imagination. Father’s day just past and I wish all the dads out there a happy, healthy life. Shout out to all the dads that not only there for their wives and kids physically, financially but also mentally and spiritually. Again, I am so sorry for being this late and I hope you enjoy.

Originally posted by mrskimhanbin


You hiss under your breath, mutter a cuss that gets whisk away faster than your temper lately under the wing of the exhale of a sigh.

“Growing a new life is a beautiful thing my ass…”

Jiwon’s head snaps up at your mumbling of what sounding like a curse in some dead language. God knows what you’re grumbling about now as he shakes his head slightly, having already given up long ago on trying to make out anything you say in your strange trances of wandering around your humble abode all the while glaring daggers his way.

“Whose ass is beautiful baby?” He feigns ignorant anyhow, deciding to amuse himself with one of your all too frequent outburst as of late that he weirdly enough finds endearing. God knows he needs all the entertainment he could get to stay awake having to get up for the 3rd time in the mere 5 hours since you both headed to bed at midnight.

“Of course you’d pay attention to the word ‘ass’”

You drop your body onto the cold tiled floor, chest could barely keeps up with providing your body with enough oxygen to function let alone the dry heaving that sours your lips and sears your throat. Glass of water in hand, he storms into the small bathroom like, like Aquaman…. Seriously, how does this guy survive never wearing a shirt, ever, even when it’s minus 3 billion degree outside. Strong arms and familiar scent bring the comfort not even the most exorbitant of comforters and mattresses could offer as you lay your head onto his bare chest, listening to the calming beats of his heart and the rumble of a giggle from your comment.

“Jiwon, can you please put on a shirt… Looking at you make me cold.” You groan at the salvation of the clear liquid sloshing about meeting your lips, more landing on the floor than your mouth as you shiver under the night cold wind.

“You weren’t complaining about my glorious body last night, baby. And see! I told you the heated floor would be a good investment.” He retorts with all the sunshine might he could despite the graveling in his voice and the low tone of a rude awakening so early in the morning telling you otherwise.

“You say ‘glorious body’ one more time, see what happen.” Ice cold lasers shoot from your eyes as he cowers, pressing a bribing kiss onto your forehead. “Don’t make me regret moving in with you, asshole. We all know how well things turn out that night your glorious body’s decided on exercising its full potential on me.”

“You speak like you have a choice there my partner for life. The little paper in my office said you’re stuck with me in sickness or in health, poor or rich, for this eternity and all the ones after that. Plus, I clearly remember you practically screaming yes after I said let’s make a baby. Don’t act like I lured you into this.” Another searing kiss meets your pale cold skin as tender circles push life back into your frost bitten shoulders.

“I believe the correct phrasing is till death do us part and right now, it feels pretty close to death.” The shudder of another round of acid searing your internal rings through the air like the clearest of bells as you lunge forward over the porcelain bowl. It’s not so much the expelling of various digested unidentifiable content that bothers you, rather it’s the constant dry heaving that drives you insane.

“Baby… I’m sorry. I’d take it all alway if I could. I’ll be the one pregnant and you can just rest. I’m so sorry. I’m so useless… I wish there was more I could do. I just-” He whimpers, mischievousness gone as worry takes hold of his expression and it honestly hurts more than your stomach doing flips and tricks as if it’s a circus performer. Despite the constant complaining and hormone induced mood swing, you cannot be happier to be growing a family with such an incredible human being.

Jiwon had been nothing but an angel taking all the bullshit you’ve thrown his way, treating you so well you’d bet all your money the queen would be jealous. The adoration in his eyes just lulls all the turmoil of being a young parent and all the worries of all the uncertainties of the future to sleep. Sure neither of you are super young nor was this an unplanned pregnancy. Yet there was still so much… how could you put that uneasiness in words. That unsettling feeling of the what ifs sinking deep in your heart just below the elating joy of seeing that red plus sign flashing bright on the small window of the pee stick.

What if YG decide to put the boys on a 6 months world wide tour when you’re near the due date? What if you can’t be a good enough mother and a wife? What if Jiwon hates you now that you’re all bloated and waddling around like a planet with duck’s feet? Would he be happy with his wife looking less than ready for all the crazy stalker fans and the media? What if you drop your own baby right there in the delivery room? What kind of a mother would you be if child services come and whisk your little bundle of joy away then and there? God forbid something happens to your baby during the pregnancy.

So many thoughts ran through your mind that night as you laid in bed in the dark, awaiting his arrival from a long day of practice. Funny though, he had thought a serious talk was about to ensue as his eyes were met with dead silent and shadow that engulf the living room that’s usually brightly lit. He crept into the house, settling down on the bed just next to your stilled snoring body as he placed a small kiss upon your cheek.

“Hey, baby.” you remember him whispering. “Is everything alright? Do we need to talk about anything?” You can still clearly recall the trembling in his fingers as they so gently swept away your dishevel hair to read your expression.

“Yea, we do…” You mumbled sluggishly under an exhausted groan, body stretching to rid the dull aching of your joints. Then you were met with the terror in his eyes and the panic stricken man swallowed you whole in his safe embrace. He sighed heavily yet made no sound as he waited for your next word.

“I have a present for you… I wanted to wait up but I’ve been so tired lately. I guess it makes sense now why I’m so tired all the time. I’m sorry, Jiwon. I know you like it when I stay up to wait for you. You’ll understand when you see my present.” Nuzzling your face further into his chest, you gestured toward the night stand with your eyes close and body moulding against his. A sigh of perhaps relief permeated through the air as you felt his muscles flexing when he reached toward the stand to grab the small white box adorning a little bow waiting patiently all night for its owner.

“Don’t be sorry. My schedule is erratic enough, I can’t afford you risking your health staying up late for me. But… What’s the occasion, love?” He whispered, fear still rooted deep in his gentle words of uncertainty.

“Just… You know me, I’ve never liked the idea of only giving presents on certain dates. why do we need an occasion to give each other present. Why not just giving it on a random day to show that I think about you constantly.” Still refusing to meet his eyes, you let yourself slipped slowly into one of the strange drowsy trances that seemed to be the norm as of late. A swift sound of air rushing from Jiwon svelte fingers removing the bow, a gasp, and a “no fucking way” later, you were rudely awoken from your slumber with a string of wet kisses.

“You’re not joking right, baby? Like, for real. Wait I need to check the date, where’s my phone, where’s your phone, oh my god where’s a calendar when I need one. SSSHIT.” No sooner than the last cuss left his lips, he hopped off the bed lightning fast, diving for any indication of what day it was.

“Why are you looking for the calendar, silly? It’s June 19.” No chance of going back to sleep now so you might as well get up. Sitting crossed legs in the middle of the bed, you watched as he bounced around the room, the test stick still in his hand.

“Because, I need to know it’s not April’s fool. Christ, baby. For a second there, I thought you were gonna make me sign the divorce paper. Thank you. Thank you so much. I’m so happy right now I don’t even know what I’m doing. I need to call my mom. I need to call your mom. I need to call everyone’s mom.” Kisses coming from every angle, you were nearly toppled backward as he surrounded you with as much love as he could give, a bright smile never left his face.

“Jiwon…” Fond memory fading away, a ragged breath leaves your lips as you clutch tightly onto his muscular arm. “I know I complain a lot but I’m really happy we’re doing this. I can’t ask for a better husband and soon to be dad than you. You’re perfect, baby. Stop apologizing.” Pushing yourself off the cold floor now, you try your best for his sake to mask the storm inside with a smile before heading to brush your teeth.

As you glance at your own reflection, the many nights of restless sleep and early date with the toilet had really taken a toll. Your eyes had not been so sunken to the depth of the Titanic since your grad school years. Skin dull and barely much colors, you honestly couldn’t care much for make up with the sheer exhaustion from just waking up. A slight frown finds itself resting upon your lips as the pace of your toothbrush dawdles to a stop. No sooner than a long sigh begins to huff away from your nose, Jiwon already had his arms tight around your slumping frame, hands smoothing up and down against your belly.

“Baby, you know you’re the most beautiful person in this world right? I love you so much. You’re just so kind and caring sometimes I feel guilty because i could only hope I take care of you as well as you do me. You never needed to do much to your appearance, actually you need not anything at all and I fall head over heels for you every. single. damn. time. you look my way.” God the way his voice drips like honey yet there’s just that slight touch of gravel just in the back of his throat from the early hours just drives you insane. You love Bobby and his never ending charms on stage but the Jiwon that whispers in your ears late at night, reminding you of how much he loves you… That’s something you won’t ever get used to. He never fails to light that spark in your stomach, intensify the fire in your heart just with his honest confession while wrapping his arms around your body like you’re the most precious thing in the world.  

“You were always wonderful and understanding when I was anything but that just from being so stress out all the time. I can’t believe I’m lucky enough to call you my wife, to have a baby with you. Don’t you dare doubt yourself, alright?” He had been resting his head against your shoulder so peacefully up till now. With the last whisper, Jiwon presses a big kiss onto your shoulder as he always did whenever a back hug was called for after a long day of work. “I can’t wait for your tummy to get a little bigger so I can boast to everyone just how proud I am of my magnificent wife. I want everyone to know how lucky I am to have you and our baby in my life. I always hate it when the  media made it out to be that you were the lucky one, marrying some rich idol. If only they know how much you sacrifice for this dumb ass husband of yours. How much I depend on you for every little thing. How lost I would be without you. How truly lucky I was to be the one you picked out of all the bastards that pinned after you all those years ago. If only they now how stupendously, extremely infatuated I am with everything you do, everything you are. Even after all these years, I’m just as smitten with you as I was our first date. Thank you for giving up so much for me and now to give me the ultimate gift of all. I love you.” By his confession end, your mouth was rid of the minty foam and tears of pain replaced with tears of happiness as you spin around in his arms, fastening your own tight around his waist.

“How could I ever thank you enough for always being there for me. I know I raise hell and can be so goddamn unreasonable like 90% of the time yet all you do is smile. I don’t want you to think that I-I don’t want our baby, or or anything like that… I just, it’s exhausting sometimes and you know parenting class, it should help but it doesn’t and all it does is make me worry more about this and that and oh my God what if I’m a horrible mother and our baby hate me and you’ll hate me and and an-” Your frantic words were silenced with a fervid kiss. He kisses you as if you hadn’t kiss in months from the grueling tours, as if this was the long awaited kiss you shared on your first date. The kiss that sealed the deal after years of the shy two way crush burning away with passion at the realization that all along you both love each other. He kisses you and not once did his hands leave your body as the affectionately pet and caress peace back into your perturbed self.

“You talk too much sometimes, you know that? Don’t you dare start with the whole what ifs. No. We’re doing this together and sure we got a big learning curve but so what. We got family to support us. We got this babe!” Damn his eye smile and those too good for this word bunny grin. One glance at your handsome man and you already felt like all is right in the world as he effortlessly carries you back to bed. All tucked in, you breathe easy as the serene air settles over the barely lit bedroom once more. Suddenly, your nausea, the back pain, the aching joint, and the constant mood swings seem to be just a small bump in the road. None of it seems to matter much as Jiwon snuggles close into the crook of your neck, large hand protectively yet delicately places over your slowly growing belly. With a smile, you let yourself fall asleep knowing no matter what happen in the future, Jiwon will always be the foundation that get you through.

Mommy & Me- (Oneshot)

Originally posted by wonhosoks

Lee Jooheon

word count: 2345

🎧 Cry Baby- The Neighbourhood 

Work sucked. Being a bartender meant giving up your weekends and having to deal with a bunch of drunk assholes that frequently forgot to tip. The guys always came on too aggressive and despite knowing you could probably kick their far-from-sober asses you had to remain pleasant and “professional.”

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anonymous asked:

Hiii there! I wanted to request an Aomine scenario!(I saw the little post about not having knb requests and here i am~) i love this dude srsly. Can it be something fluff like you confessing to him and he's kind flustered(? Thanks and i love your blog

AN: My first Aomine scenario ask and look at how pure it is I live for this!!!!!!!!!!! I don’t think he’s the type to get flustered easily, so I did my very best. Sorry it’s so short!!!!!


If someone asked you what kind of relationship you had with Aomine, you weren’t sure what your answer would be. You were in the same grade, that’s for sure, anyone could have guessed that. But to say something like “we hang out on the roof together” wouldn’t be the most conventional answer, and you didn’t really want to explain it every time someone asked.

“We’re friends” wouldn’t be the right answer, either. You barely knew anything about each other, let alone said more than two sentences at a time. You didn’t want to bother him during his mid-day naps and you didn’t want to be bothered, either.

You two met each other on that very roof one day, but it was your first time there. You discovered it when you took the wrong staircase up trying to find the bathroom and somehow ended up on the roof. The view was a sight to see so you didn’t mind and you stayed to admire it for a bit.

After losing track of time for an hour, you heard the door swing open behind you. You stood up quickly, panicking and trying to think of an excuse in case it was a teacher that had caught you; but you came face to face with a tall, dark student who looked just as confused as you.

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anonymous asked:

Aaaaa your hcs are so cute they make me laugh so much omg. Could you do the rfa + saeran and v's reactions to mc wearing a boyfriend shirt? :0c

thank you for requesting!! and i love boyfriend shirts a lot ok like too much,, but this was fun to write after taking my small little break!!



Yoosung

  • you two are actually quite close in size
  • so it turns out to be uh
  • a little
  • just a little
  • tighter on you around your uh
  • chest
  • so when he walks in on you
  • just lounging around
  • oh my fucking god
  • he almost faints
  • he’s so weak
  • speechless
  • honestly speechless
  • he can’t look you in the eye
  • he can’t
  • sAY ANYTHING
  • JUST
  • WOW
  • WOWOWOOWOEOWWO
  • MY GIRLFRIEND IS SO
  • I JUST
  • WOWOWOWOOWOWOWOWOWOW

Zen
  • this was a mistake
  • hes built ok
  • this boy
  • is built
  • so of course
  • his clothes are much bigger
  • but oh so comfyyyy
  • ur just chilling
  • doing whatever
  • chatting with seven
  • lolololol yoosung and chocolate milk right
  • lololol yeah cant believe he fell for it again lololol
  • y’know
  • that kind of
  • conversation
  • just
  • everyday things
  • so he comes into the room right
  • clothes are on
  • no one is naked
  • but
  • “babe? do you know where–”
  • and it’s not even a second
  • probably half a second
  • and he has his arms around you in an instance
  • he breathes into your ear
  • there goes the shirt

Jaehee
  • she tends to get bigger shirts due to her uh
  • big assets
  • but oh my god have u seen them smother me pleASE I BEG OF YOU
  • anyway
  • i mean you’re both women
  • where’s the harm in sharing clothes
  • ur just wearing
  • a cute lil tee
  • feeling cute and lazy
  • sipping outta ur mug
  • sitting across from her
  • and it just happens so suddenly
  • she’s just dazed
  • and then she notices her shirt
  • on you
  • and sHE TURNS SO RED
  • HER THOUGHT PROCESSES ARE MALFUNCTIONING
  • f- friends borrow eachothers clothes all the time right
  • yeah yeAH THEY DO
  • SO THERE IS NO REASON TO FEEL THIS WAY
  • BUT SHE LOOKS SO
  • LOOKS SO
  • [softly] ..f- fuck,


Jumin
  • ok but u saw this coming
  • he likes his pinstripes u know
  • and man one day
  • u were just like
  • this shit
  • is hella cute
  • um yes??
  • i’m feeling u mc
  • ur just admiring urself in the mirror like
  • oh shit maybe i should wear this for jumin one day
  • boyfriend shirts are always in fashion
  • hmmm
  • but then
  • oh
  • oh there he is
  • he’s
  • right there
  • his eyes are caught sight
  • it is too late
  • i mean
  • not that u didn’t want this
  • but
  • damn
  • dAMN
  • DAMN SON
  • D A M N  S O N

Seven
  • he cannot find his hoodie
  • like where in the fuck
  • he feels naked
  • so he searches through hell
  • and back
  • until he sees it
  • sees you
  • casually just
  • scrolling from the kitchen with ur little juicebox
  • and oh
  • oh my
  • he turns so red
  • sputters out his coffee
  • st- st- stutter town
  • he’s fumbling over words
  • the fuck are you talking about
  • literally holding a hand to his nose
  • ur just sipping
  • “?? u good??”
  • he’s
  • not good
  • the man is bleeding
  • EMERGENCY
  • MAYDAY MAYDAY
  • FUCK I CAN IMAGINE THIS HE’S SO CUTE I WANNA DIE


Saeran

  • this kid
  • this little
  • fuck
  • his shirts are all
  • edgy
  • so when you replaced them with
  • nicer looking clothes
  • he had always wondered where his other’s ones went
  • turns out
  • it went right into your closet
  • now today u weren’t really gonna go out or anything
  • so u just threw on something
  • he just walks into the room
  • and sits next to you
  • but it isn’t until
  • he catches
  • a bit of
  • ur tits out
  • yOU’RE WEARING HIS FAVORITE SHIRT
  • WITH THE FUCKING STRINGS IN THE FRONT
  • OHHH NO
  • HE’S RED
  • HE’S TELLING YOU TO TAKE IT OFF
  • NOT EVEN IN A SEXUAL SENSE
  • TAKE IT
  • THE FUCK
  • OFF
  • I WANT IT
  • IT IS MINE
  • BACK OFF

V
  • well he
  • he can’t
  • see
  • IM SORRYJNJANF
  • he’s not quite sure what you’re wearing
  • but neither what he is wearing as well
  • after feeling the fabric
  • and looking at the color
  • he smiles when he realizes it’s one of his shirts
  • “did you wear this for me?”
  • he’s so smiley
  • when you say yes
  • smiles
  • lIKE
  • THE FUCKING
  • SUN
  • “wear more of my things”
  • “i bet you look beautiful in everything”
  • hahhha there goes my heart haha ha ha h ah dadh
  • he can just barely see it
  • and still wants to see you in many more ways before
  • before uh
  • b,, be fore,,
  • fuck im sad
  • i cant do this
  • thats it guys
  • cheritz make this man happy i just want him to be happyoiw plepalsple
  • gIVE HIM A ROUTE I WANT TO MAKE H IM H A   P P Y

anonymous asked:

Could you circle or point out the 4 figures in that picture of the flash? I always get mixed up and confused about that because I honestly thought there were only 2, and barely could even make out that. I for sure see the yellow shirt and that red on the arm, that's about it. Thank you(:

(gif credit to @emilysnorman)

  • Beth (yellow polo, blonde hair, and bloody arm) (red)
  • Edwards (plaid shirt) (purple)
  • Grady cop or Andrew (black T-shirt) (green) (X)
  • Grady patient (hospital robe and shorts) (blue) (X)

You can find clear gifs, videos, and screenshots in my flash tag, if you would like to learn more: X.

Attention. That’s all I want right now, and I’ll do anything for it. We both know it.  I’m stretched out, exposing spots you’d usually have to pin me down to even see. Yet, you won’t even look my way. Well, that’s what you want me to think, but I can see that you can’t stop staring out of the corner of your eye. I know your weakness, the one you share with every other ‘ler: your ‘lee’s ticklish spots open and on display, just begging for you to get at them. I can see you stoic facade begin to fade at the mere sight of my soft tummy poking out from beneath my shirt as I streeeeeetch myself out on the bed. Don’t think I didn’t see you swallow hard as I reach up and grab the headboard, exposing my horribly sensitive underarms. And of course I see your fingers twitch when I wiggle my bare toes at you with a giggle that’s just asking for trouble. I want your attention and I’m going to get it, and the best part is I don’t even have to really try. Am I in trouble the second you give in? Oh absolutely, but that just means that I win. So keep it up. Pretend you don’t hear me whine about how sensitive and ticklish I’m feeling right now. Pretend you didn’t notice me tickling myself. Pretend that- oh. Oh no. I know that look glint in your eye as you stalk towards me, and I know it means I’ve won.

Sweets

Writing Prompt #4 “Is that my shirt?” requested by a lovely anon <3 Hope you like it hun! Sorry it took me so long :D If anyone wants to be added to the tag list let me know :)

Negan/reader

contains: language and some fluff

Originally posted by negandarylsatisfaction

Originally posted by pastabaek

You slide another piece of strawberry into your mouth, savoring the combination of sweet and tart on your tongue. You lightly suck on one of your fingers, removing any lingering sugar for added sweetness. It had been one of your favorites treats before the world went under so you had to enjoy it while you could. Who knows when the next time Negan and the Saviors would be bringing some more fresh fruit back. 

You feel your cheeks blush at the thought of your husband. Negan had proven himself to be an exceptional leader, if not a bit terrifying and unorthodox in his methods. As long as everyone followed the rules, worked hard and contributed to the well being of the Sanctuary, then everything was just peachy. Truthfully, you had no good reason for residing to being one of his wives, other than the fact that well…you just liked being taken care of. Such security and luxury were so rare these days. Though he wasn’t exactly doting and was more than crude, Negan was little more than a glorified sugar daddy rather than a husband. He made sure you and the others had everything you could possibly need or want, and in return, you repaid him with your company. It was more than a fair trade and Negan had proven himself on more than one occasion to be a talented lover. Hell, he practically knew your body better than you did.

Keep reading

You know, just been thinking about soulmate AUs when I should be reading The Canterbury Tales

  • Her name shows up on the inside of his right bicep when he turns ten, just like everybody else, even though it takes some people longer to get their name on their skin.
  • He wakes up in the middle of the night, screaming in pain, like something is burning him. His mother bursts into the room, flicks the light on, and when Percy shows her his arm, they both stop and stare at the name written in black cursive script on his skin.
  • Annabeth Chase stays in his mind for years after that. He traces his fingers across the letters before he goes to sleep every night, wondering when he’s going to find her (he assumes it’s a her, but he wouldn’t care any other way) and what she’s doing and if she has Percy Jackson written somewhere on her body too.
  • His friends ask him about her from time to time. Since her name is on his arm, it’s pretty public, especially since he’s got a bad habit about holding his arm above his head to take a picture after every swim meet he wins just so he can show her the pictures one day and tell her that even though she wasn’t technically with him, she was.
  • Percy is nineteen when he meets finally meets her.
  • It’s his freshman year of college at NYU, and he’s on the swim team via scholarship. He loves it more than anything, and he’s decided that he wants to be a teacher like his step-dad, Paul. (Paul isn’t his mom’s soulmate, but he was born without one, and after Percy’s dad died when he was young, his mom had been on her own. Percy’s glad that she found someone like Paul.)
  • But anyway, he’s practicing in the pool one day after all of his other teammates have left. Percy recently broke a record at their last swim meet, and his coach wants him to stay on top of his skills and sore muscles, so he’s been working extra hard.
  • He just so happens to be taking a break and discussing his form with his coach while hanging onto the edge of the pool when someone kicks the door to the gym open and barges in.
  • His coach is immediately yelling that this is a private practice, but there’s a pretty girl with blonde princess curls stomping toward them. She’s holding a newspaper in her hand, and she shoves it against his coach’s chest.
  • Her voice is loud, and Percy doesn’t know why it shakes slightly when she says, “I need to find Percy Jackson.”
  • So Percy hauls himself up out of the pool and grabs a towel from the ground, reaching up to ruffle his hair and dry the water off of his shoulders as he says, “You found me.” He steps closer to her, and damn, she’s gorgeous.
  • She’s staring at his arm, like most people tend to do. Except–there’s something different. Most people look away after a few seconds because they don’t want to be intrusive, but she’s still starting at him, and why is his heart beating faster oh god–
  • She hands him the newspaper without another word, and Percy frowns when he recognizes it. After his last swim meet, the school newspaper wanted to do an interview with him, and they took a picture of him standing by the pool. He had his arm lifted above his head, and you could just barely see Annabeth’s name on his bicep. He was grinning and using a towel to ruffle his hair, and sure, it was good picture, but there had been way too many people checking him out after they published it.
  • Before Percy can ask what’s up, she says, “My name is Annabeth.”
  • Percy freezes, jerking his gaze back up to hers. Her beautiful gray eyes are wide too, and she’s wringing her hands together nervously, reaching up to tuck one of her blonde curls behind her ear. Percy’s imagined Annabeth for pretty much every day of his life since he got her name, but she can’t compare to anything he’s ever seen. She’s so beautiful it hurts.
  • Percy hears his coach sigh and mutter something about soulmates before telling him that he can go, but to be at practice in the morning, no excuses. He leaves them alone then, and Percy realizes he’s been staring at her the whole time.
  • “Are you going to say anything?” She asks a few seconds later.
  • “Um,” he stammers. “Um yes. Oh my god?”
  • She laughs then, and Percy wants to cry because he’s smiling so hard. Before he knows what he’s doing, he’s reaching out toward her, and she hesitates for a second before folding into his arms and Percy honest to god flinches when she fits perfectly against him.
  • “Percy,” she says, sending a shock through him as she says his name. “You took long enough. And gross, let go of me. You’re dripping wet.”
  • He can hear the smile in her voice, and he pulls back, letting her slip out of his arms even though he never wants to let go of her.
  • He can’t stop staring at her either, and he shivers when she reaches out to trace her name along his bicep.
  • “Where… where is yours?” He asks carefully, trying not to let his voice shake. It does anyway.
  • She tugs the collar of her t-shirt down, and Percy can barely see the beginning on his name tattooed on his skin.
  • “Can I…?” He wants to kick himself when he realizes what he’s asking her.
  • She rolls her eyes. “Not here, you dork. We can go back to my dorm?”
  • He nods eagerly, just because he never wants to leave her side.
  • “Are you going to change first?” She asks, glancing down his body, and Percy remembers that he’s just in a Speedo.
  • “Oh, yes. Yeah, I’m going now,” he says, backing away from her carefully and tripping over a water bottle. It’s worth the embarrassment when he gets to hear Annabeth laugh.
  • “I’m not going anywhere, Percy,” she says, and Percy probably takes it a whole different way than what she meant, but he’s smiling and he can’t believe this–
  • He quickly changes back into his jeans and t-shirt before jogging back out to meet her, and he sighs in relief when she’s still standing in the same place.
  • She offers him her hand, and Percy takes it.
  • Annabeth leads him back to her dorm, asking him about everything it feels like. Annabeth seems so familiar, but he’s learning new things about her with every question that he asks, and god, she’s perfect.
  • She’s a student here too, from California, and she’s studying architecture. She hesitates when she talks about her family, so Percy makes a note to not ask her about that again until they know each other better.
  • They’re at Annabeth’s dorm room quickly, and she pulls him inside and closes the door behind her. Her side of the room is neat and orderly, while her roommate’s is a bit of a disaster. The roommate isn’t anywhere to be found, so they’re alone.
  • Annabeth steps closer to him, carefully, biting her lip like she’s considering what she’s going to do next. She inches toward him and pulls at the hem of his shirt. Percy feels his face get red, but he knows that she wants to see her name on his arm without the material getting in the way.
  • Her voice is softer and breathier now that they’re alone, “I thought I would never find you, Percy.”
  • He winces, “I’m sorry.”
  • “Don’t be sorry,” she says with a smile. “Want to see mine?”
  • His heart is beating out of his chest, but he nods.
  • Annabeth carefully pulls her shirt over her head. She’s wearing a sports bra, but Percy’s eyes are glued to the sharp, black letters on her tan skin.
  • Percy Jackson is written right underneath her collarbone, stretching almost all the way over to her shoulder.
  • Percy feels tears pool in his eyes, and he pulls her into a hug, wrapping his arms around her body and holding her close. She smells like lemons, and Percy’s never felt this at home before. Annabeth is home. Annabeth is everything.
  • He huffs out a laugh when she tells him that he smells like chlorine, but he can feel her fingers tracing across his back and she’s holding on to him just as tightly as he is.
The Rescue

Prompt: (anon: the egos protecting each other from a common foe ??) Here you go, oh so patient and kind anon. It’s finally here. 

Genre: Angst (yet again)

Word Count:  6519 (adlsjafalhlksad save me)

Warnings: Major (!!) blood mention, violence, cursing, maniacal behavior/characters, kidnapping, stalking, threatening, demonic behavior, attempted underage and consensual seduction, and graphic descriptions of injuries. (I apologize greatly. If there are any more warnings you would like me to add, please let me know!)

(PLEASE AVOID THE TAGS/VERY BOTTOM OF THE POST IF YOU DON’T WANT SPOILERS! Also, I will be tagging @intplier, @markired, and @bandycapped because I adore them all and would love their feedback.)

A/N: Wow. It’s here. Officially the longest Ego fanfic I’ve ever written. This took me days and, to the anon who sent in the prompt, I’m so sorry. Also, this gets it’s own post because it’s long, detailed, and I felt like. I’m sorry again. PLEASE read the warnings! This fic is dark and can be triggering to some!

Enjoy?

(I encourage you to check the tags after reading)


Mark plastered a smile on as the final day at Pax East came to a blissful end.

He loved his fans, he really, truly did, but sometimes they could be a bit… much.

The majority of his fans, thankfully, were calm-minded and considerate, not pushing boundering and, if they happened to, always being apologetic. Mark was incredibly grateful for that. However, there were some, only a rare few, that could be ‘extreme.’

Mark’s mind swirled with images of a dark-haired girl attempting to kiss him. When he nervously denied, she became furious, screaming about how his loveable girlfriend, Amy, was ‘a horrible person’ and was ‘keeping them apart.’ She had even claimed that her name, Aless, ‘sounded better’ than Amy’s.

She eventually had been dragged away by security, kicking and screaming, unfortunately drawing a bit of a crowd, but it was still a scary experience.

However, it was finally the end of the day. Mark could go back to his hotel room and finally relax.

When he got there, however, he noticed that his room door was slightly cracked open. Not thinking much of it - perhaps it was just the hotel cleaning service - he went downstairs to the lobby, not wanting to disturb them. He ordered himself a nice sandwich for dinner from the hotel restaurant before heading back up to his room, finally ready to settle in for a long day.

When he got back, he smiled tiredly to himself, thankful for the kind hotel workers. The door was now closed and he presumed the room had been cleaned.

The room said otherwise, though. The beds were just as much of a mess as he had left them, the bathroom towels were still in a damp pile in on the counter, and his room was just as he had left it.

Suspicious, he checked over his things, making sure nothing was taken. After finding everything in tact, he shrugged it off as something he had imagined as a result of his exhaustion. Or perhaps he had just forgotten to shut the down completely when he left. Maybe one of his friends stopped by and forgot to close it. It could’ve been a multitude of things.

Sighing, he stripped down to his boxers and finally fell into bed, asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

~

The next day, Mark woke up feeling much more energized, if still a bit haunted by memories of the rabid fan. However, he shrugged off his negative thoughts, happy to be heading home later that evening.

The day went as planned. Mark ate lunch - after having skipped breakfast due to waking up late - and then met up with some of his friends. They laughed and chatted, and the fan from the day before had completely left his mind by the time his began getting ready for his flight.

After saying goodbye to his friends and giving out a few extra hugs, Mark headed up to his room and began packing. He looked at his phone nervously - he was running a quite a bit behind. Hurriedly, he shoved his things into his bags, barely double-checking the room before he left for the airport.

However, in his haste, Mark failed to notice the piece of paper missing from his luggage. It wasn’t much, just a slip that Mark had written his flight number and details on in case he forgot.

He didn’t know that such a small piece of paper could cause so much chaos.

~

The flight was long and dull, as flights usually are, and Mark was immensely relieved when his feet finally touched solid ground.

So relieved, in fact, that he didn’t notice the figure that had been following him through the airport. Or the fact that the same figure got in a cab the same time that he did. Or the fact that the figure directed the cab driver to follow him all the way back to his house.

~

Mark’s house was chaos when he returned.

He had instructed Amy and Tyler to stay behind to watch over the Egos, not wanting any of them to cause any permanent damage - or worse, get loose.

However, this resulted in the pair allowing the Egos, with Mark’s permission, to stay at the YouTuber’s house for easier “Ego-sitting.” So, when Mark got home, the house was…. different, to say the least.

Wilford laid dramatically on the table, twirling his gun and loudly singing pop songs from the 2000s. Silver was nearby, seemingly entranced by either the awful singing or the twirling gun. Mark wasn’t quite sure which one it was. Yandere was also nearby. Mark could clearly tell which one he was entranced by, his eyes following the gun sharply.

The Host and Dr. Iplier were quietly conversing in the corner farthest from the loud Ego, attempting to block out the noise. Chica stood near the Host, sniffing his hand quietly. However, when she noticed Mark’s appearance, she immediately jumped up and greeted her owner happily.

“Hey, Chica-bica,” Mark cooed fondly as Chica rolled over as he lathered her in attention, “Who’s a good girl? You are! Yes, yes, you’re a very good girl. Plenty of belly pats for the good girl.” This continued on for many moments before Chica trotted off once more, leaving Mark to examine the rest of the house.

The black wisps of miasma coming from under the bathroom door gave a clear indication of where Darkiplier was hiding out, clearly irritated and wanting to get away from the noise.

Amy and Tyler were with Ed, attempting to talk him out of trying to sell Chica on the Ebay. The thought horrified Mark, but he knew he could trust his friends to prevent that from happening.

In the kitchen, Bim had set up multiple plant boxes, pots, and terrariums. He was speaking to King, who had his signature crown on top of his head, holding a jar of peanut butter. Mark winced as he dug a saliva-slicked finger into the jar to continue forming his ‘beard.’   

The Googles stood off to the side, eyes glowing, scanning the house and guarding for intruders. Suddenly, a random coffee pot was throw - Mark didn’t know by who - and hit Oliver on the side of the head, effectively causing him to glitch. His eyes flickered and he seemed to be frozen with a shocked look on his face, his hand outreached, mid-air. The other Googles glared in the direction of the thrown coffee pot.

Overall, the house was just pure chaos.

“Everyone, go home!” Mark yelled above the noise, frustrated with both the mess and the noise. The sound made Chica flinch a bit, along with the Host, and he felt guilt shoot through him, but at least it got his point across.

Wilford’s singing quieted down to a low mumble but continued, much to the distaste of everyone. Dark’s ringing aura rose in anger, but then fell to a slightly more manageable tone. Bim and King froze their conversation, and Mark couldn’t help but think that King looked a bit like a deer in headlights.

Silver suddenly snapped out of his trance and began playing with the fingers on his gloves and Yandere ignored Mark completely, still staring at the gun in Wilford’s hands. The Doctor and the Host stopped talking, looking mildly relieved, if a bit shocked by the sudden noise..

Happy with gathering all, well, most, of the Egos’ attention, Mark spoke again.

“I’m home, I’m back. I want my house again. Please, just…. go back to the office.”

The Egos mumbled and groaned quietly, apart from Wilford, who sighed dramatically, but they all began to leave. Dark was the first one gone, his ringing blessedly vacant from the vicinity.

The Host and the Doctor were the second and third to leave, quickly followed by Bim and King, who were still looking a bit shocked by Mark’s outburst. The Googles followed immediately, carrying the still-frozen Oliver between the three of them. They all looked more than mildly irritated but disappeared in a flash of blue, red, yellow, and green.

Ed was eventually persuaded to leave by Amy and Tyler with the bribe of a new cowboy hat. Yandere snuck out sometime during the persuasion process, as did Silver, and, eventually the only Ego left was Wilford.

Mark sighed; he was too goddamn tired for this.

“Wil, you need to leave,” He said firmly, backed up by Amy and Tyler’s nods of agreement.

“But why,” Wilford responded, whining and drawing out the ‘y.’ He had moved from his previous position into a sitting one, letting his feet dangle over the edge of the table and brush the floor.

“Because I’m exhausted, I’m sure Amy and Tyler are too,” Mark paused, thinking of a new tactic, “And you still have Dark to go mess with.”

Wilford’s face lit up with excitement and Mark smiled. It was a bit cruel, but it worked.

“Yes, yes, I do! But what should I do?” Wilford asked himself and Mark could almost see the light bulb appear above his head, “Oh, I know! I can prank him!” Wilford laughed crazily as he faded away, mumbling something about chainsaws and strawberry jelly.

“Finally,” Mark sighed when Wilford had completely disappeared. He turned and fell face-first onto his couch, groaning.

Amy and Tyler laughed before leaving, allowing him to get to bed. Mark quickly did such, barely having the energy to tear off his shoes and shirt before he fell into bed, drifting into a dreamless sleep.

~

Mark awoke to the sound of distant yelling, a crash that sounded vaguely like something falling, and then eerie silence.

Grumbling to himself, Mark got out of bed, throwing on some flannel pajama pants and a simple white t-shirt before heading to the kitchen. He tiredly ran a hand over his face while he made a cup of coffee.

Goddamn jet lag, Mark thought to himself. Despite getting a full nine hours of sleep, he still felt sluggish and tired. He also smelt faintly of the stale air of the plane he took home.

Sighing, Mark finished up his coffee and hopped into the shower.

While the water ran over him, he faintly heard something that sounded like footsteps. His mind flashed back to the yelling from earlier and suspicion grew within him.

After getting dressed, Mark searched around his house, looking for an intruder. When he found none, he attempted to shrug it off. However, something lingered in the back of his mind.

Mark thought back to the crazy fan at the meet-up. He thought of the crazed look in her eyes as she was dragged away. He thought about the way her hair grew tangled and frizzy as she thrashed in the security man’s arms. He thought of the way she reached out for him expectantly before her arms were pinned, as if she thought he would return the gesture.

Mark thought about the stories he had read about crazed fans coming to the celebrities’ houses. The stories about the fans harassing their idol and their loved ones, claiming it was out of adoration and love.

He suppressed a shiver.

Shaking off the thought, Mark continued with his day tiredly, recording a little update video for his channel.

In it, he joked about the crazed fan, leaving out some of the details and just claiming she was a bit ‘over-enthused.’ He laughed off the situation and continued describing his time at Pax, mentioning his friends and missing Chica and Amy. Trying to look on the bright side of the long flight back, he also told the story of the bitter flight attendant and the tired old man that was sat next to him.

Throughout all of this, Mark didn’t notice the figure creeping up behind him.

He didn’t notice the way their eyes gleamed with malice, matching the gleam of the knife in their hands. He didn’t notice their dark hair falling over their face or the way they glared at the mention of his girlfriend.

He didn’t notice until it was too late.

~

The Egos got a call the next morning.

Amy was frantic, panicking over the phone to Dr. Iplier, the only Ego who could speak calmly with her in a time of distress. She spoke quickly, saying that she had went over to Mark’s house that morning and he was gone.

Normally, that wouldn’t have been such a big deal, but then she spotted the blood, the obvious sign of a struggle, and the note.

‘He’s mine now. Forever.

He’ll be happier with me than you. I can make him happy.

If you call the police, he dies.

-A’

Panicked and unsure what else to do, Amy had called the Ego’s house, pleading for them to help her find and rescue Mark.

The Doctor turned to Wilford, who was standing by twirling his knife, and explained the situation. Delighted, Wilford quickly forced all of the Egos to accept the new mission, claiming it would be ‘so much fun.’

Dr. Iplier passed the phone on to the Host, who reassured Amy that they would be there soon to help find Mark. Eventually, she calmed down and the call was ended and the Egos were left to get ready.

Wilford quickly gathered all of the Egos in the meeting room. He convinced most of the Egos to agree to help, (with the exception of Yandere, who claimed he was too busy with ‘senpai’) but Dark was resistant.

“We don’t all need to go, Wilford. You can handle a human,” Dark said in response to Wilford’s persistence of him going.

“It’ll be a bonding experience, Darky!” Wilford whined, “Besides, I’m sure Mark will have to repay you somehow. Perhaps a new video~” He sang the last words teasingly and Dark grumbled and his aura whipped around him, but he reluctantly agreed.

Soon, all of the Egos found themselves at the famous Markiplier’s house once again.

“Wow, twice in two days. A new record,” Wilford called loudly.

Dark sent his hellhounds off to find Mark’s location as the Doctor and Amy attempted to tell Wilford that, no, he could not tickle Mark’s kidnapper.

The hellhounds returned and the Egos stuffed themselves into two separate cars, Amy driving one and Bim driving the other. They followed behind the hellhounds, who eventually lead them to an abandoned building right outside of town.  

A tad disappointed in this mysterious kidnapper, Wilford mumbled, “Well this is cliche.” The other people, and figments, in the car pointedly ignored him.

They all filed out of the car and began walking towards the door when they were interrupted by the Host.

“The Host senses more than two people inside of that building. Somehow, the kidnapper has acquired guards to help hold Mark hostage. The Host does not suggest the Egos go in without a plan,” The Host narrated calmly, and the Egos immediately began talking over one another, shooting off ideas.

After the talking had rose to yelling, Amy shouted above it all.

“Enough! We’ll go in there and try to take down these ‘guards,’ or whoever they are first. Then we’ll try to find Mark, and the people who captured him. We all need to work together, though,” Amy looked around at the group, “Capisce?”

The Egos nodded, and then they all began to walk towards the dim building, each feeling varying amounts of anxiety.

~

Wilford and Silver took down the first guard, standing next to each other. Silver rushed forward, capturing the guard in his arms and allowing Wilford to knock him hard on the side of the head, causing him to go limp, unconscious.

Amy stepped forward cautiously, examining the guard’s face. It was young, soft, and dotted with faint freckles. His build was masculine, small, and lanky. He seemed to be around fifteen years old.

It was a child.

“Guys, it’s just a kid,” Amy said shakily. Was Mark’s kidnapper really forcing kids to help guard him? Did they even know what they were doing? Who they were guarding?

Bim nodded sadly, “Yeah, it is. The next one we see, be more gentle with. They might all be kids,” He looked at Wilford subtly.

Dark conjured up some handcuffs and restrained the kid, allowing the Doctor to step forward and drag him into a quiet place behind a bush to be fetched, memory wiped, and returned to his family later.

~

Bim and Amy worked together on the next guard. Bim distracted them by making clicking noises as Amy snuck up behind them, pinning them down.

When she made eye contact with the person, they looked terrified.

This girl was younger, with short hair and a pale complexion. Her hazel eyes were filled with fear and Amy felt immense guilt flood her body.

Sitting up, she stopped the girl from sprinting away, grabbing her wrist and pulling her to sit down in front of Amy.

“We’re not going to hurt you, okay?” At the girl’s doubt-filled expression, Amy continued, “We just wanna ask you some questions, is that okay?” The girl nodded hesitantly.

“What’s your name?” She asked gently, not wanting to scare the kid more.

She swallowed anxiously before answering, “S-Sam.”

“That’s a lovely name, Sam,” Amy smiled gently, “Now, can you tell us why you’re here?” Amy questioned with a soft voice.

“Um, s-she put m-me up to this. I d-don’t know why. S-she said she’d k-kill my family if I d-didn’t agree,” Sam stuttered anxiously, tears welling up in her eyes.

“Who is she?”

“I d-don’t know her name,” Sam said, her eyes darting around the room, “B-but she said she n-needed me to guard him. I d-don’t know who h-he is though,” Sam whimpered slightly, “I’m sorry.”

Amy rubbed Sam’s back comfortingly, “It’s okay, it’s okay. Thank you,” She stood, gesturing for Sam to do the same, “Do you know how to get home from here?”

“N-no,” Sam whispered.

Amy looked around at the Egos, who were backed into the shadows, not wanting to interrupt. “Well, we need to find someone we think is here. I need you to wait out here for us, can you do that?” Sam nodded.

“We’ll be back soon, Oliver here can stay with you, is that okay?” Sam nodded again, shooting an odd look towards the Egos. Before she could ask, Google Oliver stepped forward, gently leading Sam away to the outside of the building.

Amy sighed as they left and the group continued on.

~

The next guard, the Host and Dr. Iplier pinned down.

The Host narrated quietly from the corner, manipulating reality to help Dr. Iplier.“The person suddenly realizes that their shoe is untied, reaching down to tie it once again, they are ambushed by the Doctor, who pins their arms behind their back.”

The Doctor did just that, and once again, Amy steps forward, gently asking the girl, Marissa, the same questions she asked Sam. When she got the same answers, she sighed and sent her in the direction of the exit, where Oliver was waiting with Sam.

Amy rubbed her temples tiredly; she had a feeling that this would be a long trip.

~

King and Ed took down the next guard, King sending a couple squirrels to nibble on the person’s ears, causing them to become distracted so that Ed could wrestle them down.

The kid fought against it this time, wriggling and trying to escape until they eventually gave up. When they were let up to talk to Amy, they ran off immediately, escaping from the building.

Amy sighed sadly, but let them go.

~

The Googles pinned down the next guard, a young boy, efficiently and quickly. They cornered him in a no-nonsense style and Google Green stepped forward, effectively locking his hands around the boy’s wrists in an iron grip.

“Hey, I’m Amy,” Amy said, looking into the boy’s brown eyes and gesturing vaguely for the Googles to let him go, “We’re here to save everyone here and get my friend back.” Amy did not mention Mark being more than a friend, figuring it would seem more innocent to do so.

“A-are you Markiplier’s girlfriend?” The boy asked shyly, a shocked expression on his face.

Amy froze. She hadn’t expected anyone to recognize her, although it made sense. A whole bunch of teenagers in one place? One was bound to know her famous boyfriend.

“Uh, yeah, yeah I am. What’s your name?” Amy asked, motioning silently for the Egos to leave the boy’s field of vision. The last thing she needed was questions about why there were copies of her YouTuber boyfriend beside her.

“Oh, um, m-my name’s Calum,” The boy responded hesitantly.

“Well, Calum…” Amy trailed off, unsure. Usually, this is where she would tell the boy to go to where Oliver was waiting, but she couldn’t exactly do that this time, “Do you know why you’re here?”

“U-uh,” Calum stuttered nervously, obviously scared, “Well this girl t-told me she would, um, kill my brother if I didn’t help her, and, like, I couldn’t let that happen… So here I am?” Calum’s voice rose at the end of the sentence, as if he were ending with a question rather that a statement.

Amy paused, mulling over Calum’s words. The other kids had always said their parents were threatened, not their siblings.

“What about your parents? Did she threaten them?” Amy asked gently.

“N-no. They’re kind of, um, dead.” Calum said dully with unintended bluntness.

Amy pulled back slightly, shocked, “Oh, I-I’m really sorry. I didn’t know,” Changing the subject, she continued, “Do you have anywhere to go?”

“Not really,” Calum responded, looking solemn, “I was living with my grandma but she kinda, uh, kicked me out a couple weeks ago.”

“Do you have any other family to stay with?” Amy was feeling dread and sadness creep into her stomach, certain she already knew the answer. What were they going to do?

“N-no. My brother moved a few months ago and he’s the only other family I have.”

Amy thought for a moment before responding hesitantly, “Well, Calum, we’re going to help you, but we have to help my friend first, okay?” Calum nodded silently, “Can you wait for us here?”

Calum hesitated, but nodded, moving to sit over by the wall, obviously tired from being on his feet for hours, ‘guarding’ Mark.

“We’ll be back soon,” Amy promised, before heading down the next hallway to find the other kids.

~

“There is one left,” Google Red reported, scanning the building for people. He detected three people, apart from the group, indicated by red blobs on the screen on his chest. It was a heat-detecting system, so it showed the warmth of human bodies. Two of the shapes, presumably Mark and the kidnapper, were in a room at the back of the building.

Dark was the one who handled the last kid. Amy tried to stop him when they approached the red figure on the map, but he slyly slid towards the child, an older teenage girl.

He approached her swiftly, silently, and maliciously. He ran his fingers across the side of her face, and Amy stood, shocked, at the sight of the girl’s glazed over eyes. Dark’s eyes had gone black, the sclera and iris of his eyes switching to a demonic black. Dark continued to run his fingers down the girl’s neck, then to trace her collarbones, then running over her shoulders, down her arms. Down, down, down…

“Dark,” Amy said forcefully, or, as forcefully as she could while she shook slightly, but the Ego didn’t pause, “Stop!” Still, he continued.

“Darky-boy, I get that she’s a pretty little virgin and all, but we’ve got a job to do~” Wilford said, his speech thick and teasing, yet there was an underlying tone of malice in his voice.

Dark finally stopped, handing the girl to Amy. The black from his eyes faded, but the irises were now a deep blood red. Amy could see the anger in them and she suppressed a shiver.

Looking back at the girl, Amy saw that her eyes remained glazed over, and she looked up at Dark suspiciously.

Dark sighed, irritated. “She’s incapacitated for the time being. It will pass, and she’ll return to a conscious state with no memories of it,” Amy stayed silent, and Dark huffed, “Just send her to Oliver.”

Amy was still a bit doubtful, but she nodded, sending Google Red to go deliver her to Oliver.

The room was eerily silent. The tension in the air was thick as they waited, thought, and worried. When Google Red came back, it was time.

It was time to save Mark.

~

Google Blue lead the way to the back of the building, a small office where two remaining sources of heat stayed. They hadn’t moved in the time that the group had been there, just staying inside of the small room. Waiting, watching.

Amy took a deep breath, and, feeling the warmth of the Egos behind her, pushed open the doors.

There sat the one and only Mark Fischbach, unconsciously, bruised, and bleeding from a gash on his head. Blood was splattered across his tattered t-shirt and dirty jeans. Amy held in a gasp, feeling herself start to shake even more. However, she shook her head slightly and pushed forward.

Next to him was another figure; a young girl. Amy started at her in horror. A little girl had done all of… this? The girl twitched and jerked, her muscles seizing up, and Amy sensed something very, very wrong with the scene in front of her.

Then, she noticed the body curled up in the corner of the room.

She looked closer, peering at the dark hoodie stained with blood, the pale skin, the brown hair dyed green.

“Jack?” Amy whispered to herself in horror. Jack was… Amy looked, he was still breathing, if only barely. She let out a quiet sigh of relief. He was still alive.

The girl looked up at the sound, her head jerking and her neck twitched, tendon popping out distinctly. There was something oddly familiar about the movement, and Amy heard Dark let out a quiet growl from behind her.

“What do we have here? Guests?” The girl asked sarcastically, her voice glitching in and out, too deep for an average teenage girl. Her form twitched and flashed, and silhouettes of her body in different gruesome poses glitched behind her.

“Well, if it isn’t Antisepticeye,” Dark responded mockingly, and Amy looked behind her and saw Dark’s form shift and glitch, showing his internal anger. His aura rung through the room, and Amy saw even Jack stir slightly, his eyebrows furrowing in discomfort at the deafening noise.

Amy started at his words, stumbling back a step. Anti? Is that why there was only two people on the map? Is Anti even… human? That thought brought up a whole new set of questions, but Amy put them off to the side for another day.

Out of the corner of her eye, Amy saw Bim take a couple steps back, along with King and Silver. The Doctor moved with faux bravery to stand slightly in front of the Host, who was looking more panicked by the second but still standing strong.

“Darky! How nice to see you! I see you’ve brought your friends, how lovely!” Anti shouted, his voice glitching even more. The girl’s eyes turned a solid black and, for the first time, Amy noticed blood staining her hands, along with the hasty gash shown on her neck.

It looked strikingly similar to a gruesome, bloody smile.

Dark followed Amy’s eyes, catching sight of the gash. “Still, with the neck-slitting? Didn’t you do that with Sean? How unoriginal of you, Glitch.” Dark sneered, and Amy saw Anti’s eyes flash with anger before he brushed it off and laughed maniacally.

“Unoriginal? You’re one to speak, Edgelord,” Dark’s eye twitched at the nickname, “Still, with the eyeliner? How unoriginal of you,” Anti mocked, repeating Dark’s words from before.

Dark’s form shifted, revealing an outline of his screaming figure, the red overtaking the blue of his shell, before coming back together as he regained his control. However, even after containing his rage, Dark stayed silent.

“Why the little girl bod, Anti? Seems a bit inefficient if you ask lil’ ol’ me. Which you should, because Wilford knows best,” Wilford said with a wink, obviously trying to channel the attention away from Dark, who looked seconds away from snapping Anti’s neck.

“Oh, this old thing? It’s quite efficient, actually. No one cares about her; she’s an orphan, actually. Lost her parents in a lovely car crash. Lost her friends after she got beat up by some other human at school. Wouldn’t be missed if she, say, disappeared.” Anti laughed again, and Amy flinched. He treated the girl as if she was just an object to be thrown away, and, perhaps, to him, she was.

“Why are you doing this?” Amy spoke up, trying to keep her voice from shaking. As much as she hated to admit it, Anti scared her. His chaos, his glitching voice and movements, his instability.

It was terrifying.

“Oh, you mean taking your precious little Mark and tying him up all pretty?” Anti asked it rhetorically, but Amy still found herself nodding, “It’s a kink thing.”

Amy felt anger rise in her throat; he wasn’t taking this seriously. This was more than Mark. This was everything.

“Why did you take him, Anti? Why did you use this little girl and those other kids to capture him? Why not do it yourself?” Amy taunted furiously. However, her anger was squashed when she saw Anti’s eyes flash again with anger.

It was much more intimidating when it was directed at her.

“Too many questions, pretty girl,” Anti snarled, hurling through the room, glitching dangerously, knife in hand, towards her.

Amy was frozen with fear. She couldn’t win against a glitching demon! She could barely win an arm wrestle against Mark. She wasn’t particularly weak, but Anti was no match for her and they both knew.

Through her haze of fear, Amy felt herself be knocked to the side, pushed out of harm’s way by one of the Egos. Thinking back, Dark was the only one close enough to reach her, but he had denied it being him with a snarl of ‘Why would I care about a weak human like you?’ and a slammed door.

Amy looked up and the scene before her felt unreal. The Egos were working together. The observation filled her with an odd sort of pride, but the fear and horror in her heart outweighed it.

The Googles stood, guarding the edges of the group as Wilford lunged forward, attempting to shove a knife into Anti’s chest. When he missed, Google Red rushed forward, hitting Anti hard in the jaw, causing him to stumble backwards.

Anti recovered quickly, and, before Amy could blink, had placed the palm of his hand on Google Red’s chest, effectively causing him to glitch, sizzle, and scream, before shutting down with a stream of smoke. He repeated the action with the other three Googles, who were looking increasingly more alarmed, and by the time he reached the last Google, Oliver, who’s scream was deafening, Amy was in tears.

The Host stayed in the corner mumbling rapid narrations as his contribution. He narrated as Ed avoided a stab thrown in his direction. Amy could see him panting with the effort of keeping the Egos safe as she watched him narrated and manipulate Silver in moving out of the way of a particularly vicious kick directed to his side.

Dr. Iplier tended to Mark, untying him and slowly sending a faint glowing light through his chest. As Amy peered closer, she realized her was healing him, his cuts slowly mending themselves and his bruises fading away.

Ed and Silver were in the midst of the battle, taking the defensive side after the Googles were shut down. Dark and Wilford, on the other hand, took the offensive side, as they were the strongest Egos. Amy couldn’t help but wince as she heard the sickening sound of cracked bone as Silver blocked Anti’s elbow, which would’ve come crashing down on Wilford’s spine. Silver grimaced and yelled in pain, but continued the fight with a rare sense of true bravery and selflessness. Ed grabbed Anti, throwing him down to the ground in an equally rare show of strength as he attempted to plunge a knife in Dark’s chest.

Bim was looking over Jack, accompanied by King. They stood over him, not quite sure what to do but determined to help. Bim helped Jack sit up and started working on a large gash on his side, leaking blood, while King tended to the cut around his neck.

Amy, stumbling out of her haze, lept up, and rushed over to help Dr. Iplier with Mark. She stood by helplessly as he exerted his powers, straining to heal him. She watched solemnly as he cursed angrily as he was forced to pause in his effort to heal him due to his own exhaustion. He had long ago abandoned his coat, not wanting to get it stained, and was looking strikingly similar to Mark.

Mark after a long day, Mark playing a rage-inducing game, Mark, Mark, Ma-

Amy tried to block everything out. The thoughts of Mark. The sight of him bloodied and battered. The sounds of the fight going on around them. The screams, the blood, and the sickening sound of bones being pulverized. She tried incredibly hard.

She failed.

Eventually, Ed and Silver had been defeated. Ed had been knocked unconscious due to a particularly hard blow to the head, and Silver had passed out from blood loss. Now, it was just Dark, Wilford, and Anti.

Dark looked uncharacteristically ruffled and disorganized, but only mildly injured. His most prominent injury was a sharp cut going across his forehead, blood flowing into his eyes, causing him to angrily to wipe it away. The sleeve of his shirt was ripped and stained with blood as well, causing him to look even more out of character than usual.

On the other hand, Wilford looked destroyed. He had multiple tears in his clothing, all revealing large gashes leaking blood, and one of his suspender straps had completely be ripped to shreds. His gun had been thrown to the side after it ran out of ammunition, so all he had left was the knife gripped tightly in his left hand. His hands were coated in blood, and it was obvious that Wilford had been doing most of the hand-to-hand combat.

Anti’s eyes looked more chaotic than Amy had ever seen them. He looked bloodthirsty and, despite the injuries he had, he continued lashing out, getting messier and more vicious as he lost more blood. Blood was caked under his nails and the girl’s long hair had been chopped off halfway through the battle, after the claim that it was distracting him. His form was glitching and twitching rapidly, making it difficult for Dark or Wilford to get a solid hit on him.

It was a madhouse.

The fight continued for what seemed like hours. Wilford eventually passed out, his grip on his knife going limp as he stumbled before falling to the floor. Hurriedly, Dr. Iplier rushed forward, grabbing him and dragging him over to where Silver and Ed laid, next to Jack, recovering weakly.

Then, it was two.

It was maniacal laughter and a eerily calm face.

It was bloodthirst and anger.

It was brightness and darkness.

It was chaos and order.

It was Darkiplier and Antisepticeye.

~

They had very different fighting styles, Amy noticed.

Dark avoided and planned, striking only when he was certain that he would not miss. He took some brutal hits, but avoided most. His miasma whipped viciously around him, constricting Anti but not quite being able to kill him. The ringing was almost unbearable at this point. He knuckles were cracked and bloody, but, for the most part, the rest of him was not. He stayed clean and orderly, even when breaking bones and ripping skin.

Anti was chaotic and unplanned, striking whenever and wherever. He pulled viciously at his own hair when he missed, and laughed maniacally when he didn’t. He was bloodthirsty, that much was clear. He made a show of licking the blood off his hands after tearing his nails into Dark’s arm. He stayed wound up to the max, even while he was punched and kicked.

There was no real winner.

The battle ended when it was clear they were both too exhausted to fight anymore. They panted and glared and snarled. Dark’s shell was teetering on the verge of shattering and Anti was glitching to the point where he could barely be seen. They were angry, but unable to express it. They were forced into silence by their own limited energy.

They both lost something that day.

~

The next day was hectic.

Bim wiped the memories of the kids and he and the Googles began deliering them to their houses, always taking precautions making sure to not be caught. The only child who did not receive this treatment was Calum. He was sent to his brother’s house, after Amy explained that he could not tell a soul about what happened. The Googles made sure to track him at his brother’s house to keep an eye on him, but they sent him on his way.

Dr. Iplier spent weeks patching everyone up. He ran himself into the ground and Amy was sure he would die from the excessive caffeine intake. But, at the end of the month, all of the Egos were as good as new, even if Dark was still angry and bitter.

Jack was sent back home after the situation was explained to him. Mark laughed when the first thing he worried about was the lack of videos, but he assured him the fans would understand if he said he had been sick and unable to upload. Amy got a notification that day of Jack’s tweet stating that he had been sick. It was apologetic, sweet, and made her smile softly.

Mark was finally returned back to his home without a problem. He became more paranoid and even skipped the next year at Pax, but eventually went back to being his old self once things got settled. He still locked the door every night without fail though, and made sure to check the house before he went to bed.

One night, as Amy laid awake in bed, she thought of Anti.

She knew he was still out there, probably more angry than ever. She was sure he would be back, but not anytime soon. He had been damaged the day of the Rescue, as Amy had taken to calling it. It worried her, not knowing when he would be back.

But, as Mark rolled over in his sleep and wrapped an arm around her torso, nuzzling his face into the back of her neck, she couldn’t bring herself to care.

so today sucked. I have a ruined pair of heels, three very angry foot blisters and nothing to put on them, I missed the eclipse, assuming you can even see it where I’m at which I don’t think you could, and I sweat through my dress shirt so I didn’t end up going to any temp agencies today. Which sucks. I need a job. I need a fucking job and I don’t want to go back to working at a grocery store and I highly doubt I could support myself on art commissions because I can barely make myself work on the two I already have