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renhaswritersblock · 3 years

Text

Kinktober Day 1: Facesitting||Anonymous Sex - Johnson

Word Count: 2174

Warnings: Oral, overstimulation, faded sex, slight angst

A/N: Hello! So, I kinda got a bit carried away with this one *looks at the word count* hehe. But I hope you enjoy reading this fic. Was a bit hesitant at first while writing this smut, but with a few readings from a couple of friends, I continued writing! It's sort of unfinished, a work in progress. The rest of the kinktober day's will probably be short, not sure yet. I have a few exams this week and work is being a cunt, so the writing will be delayed for a short while, sorry. Also, I refer to Johnson in this fic as "The Man" cause of the anonymous sex part. Anyways, again, hope you enjoy reading! Let me know what you think. I do accept feedback/criticism, just don't abuse that power. And I hope ya'll are having a wonderful day. -Ren

~~~

“So, do you mind telling me where the hell we’re going, Frankie?” the strawberry-blonde glanced over at her friend sitting beside her, gripping anxiously at the steering wheel.

Frankie had her head leaned halfway against the open window of the moving car. Feeling the cool summer-night breeze hit her face while her hand traces circles on her wooden thigh. A small yet noticeable grin leisurely forms on the brunette’s face, thinking about tonight’s plans. She had been looking forward to this night for some time, finally be able to get away from the Bang-a-Rang - a place she once called home but is now a prison - and go wherever the river takes her.

“Hello? Earth to Frankie.” Frankie opened her eyes, turning her head swiftly towards the calling of her name. “Are you going to answer my question? Or do I have to turn the damn car around and drive back?”

Frankie pressed her lips together, letting out an exasperate sigh. “You worry too much, V,” she finally replied in a soft, choleric voice.

“No shit,” V retorted, “I rather not have Aunt Rosemary or Dennis be on my fucking ass if you’re doing something that could get us in trouble. Or worse, killed.” She glanced once more at Frankie with a furrowed brow. The brunette rolled her eyes with a snarl, glaring back out the window, head resting in hand. The pale broad’s narrowed eyes dropped into a pitiful look, sighing as she turned her attention back on the road. “Look, hon. I’m trying to be there for you more and back you up, but you can’t just leave me in the dark. You know what happened last time, fuck, it scared the living shit out of me.” Frankie’s eyes darted down at her wrist, seeing the visible dark-faded bruises wrapped around her like a cuff. Her face scrunched mournfully at the memory, remembering how painfully tight those bastards tied the chains. “I don’t want you to die, Frankie,” V finished, becoming teary-eyed.

The strawberry-blonde jumped at the gentle touch of something weighing on her shoulder. Looking over, she saw the olive-skin hand belonging to Frankie, giving a light squeeze for reassurance. “Didn’t know you cared this much about me, V. Thanks,” Frankie gave a half sympathetic smile, V returning a similar smile. “But you should save that melancholic shit-talking for your butch when it gets close to war,” She quipped, making V scowl and slap Frankie’s hand off her shoulder.

“Fuck you, bitch.” Frankie couldn’t help but tilt her head back and release a cackle as V continued staring angrily at the road.

“I’m just fucking with you, puta. You know I love you.” The brunette adjusted herself in her seat, now sitting up straight. “Anyways, a little birdie sent me a note to meet them at this motel in town,” Frankie pulled out a wrinkled note from the pocket of her shorts, handing it to V, “Mira. Thought I could -you know- check it out.” V quickly snatched the piece of paper, silently reading it while keeping an eye on the road.

In town only for tonight. Meet me at the Woodland Motel at 8 pm sharp, don’t be late. See you there.

Ps. bring the thing XO

“The thing?” V quirked up a brow, turning to Frankie with a puzzled expression. All the brunette could do was shrug at her response, fixing her spaghetti strap. V scoffed as she shook her head in disbelief, “Do you even know who you’re meeting? It could be some crazy lunatic who’ll bash your brains out or make you end up in a tub full of ice with a missing organ!” Frankie reached to grab the note out of her friend’s hand as she was waving it around in the air. “Honestly, Frankie. Do you not see the red flags here?”

“Nope.” The brunette answered with a popping sound on the p, “Plus, I know him. Known him for a pretty long time. And besides-” she bends down, tracing her fingers on the smooth wood of her prosthesis. Finding the split crack, she gently pulled at it to reveal a hollowed compartment and a revolver nestled inside. “-if I ever am in danger. I always have this.” She took the gun out of its chamber, swaying it in the air.

---

Lighting another cigarette, the man watched from his car as the brunette struts out of the front office towards the parked convertible, bending down to lean against the car’s open window of the driver’s side.

The last time he saw her, her shaggy hair was long and vibrant, reaching down to her backside, her bangs acting as curtains to shield away her flaws, as she called it. Now her hair was short - below the ears and sleek, it reminded him of Betty Boop.

It was unclear what she was saying to her friend, but not even a minute passed when the convertible came to life and started to drive off, leaving the girl wiggly waving goodbye. Once the car was out of sight, she twirled in the direction of her room.

He couldn’t help but stare longingly at her ass. How her shorts hugged tightly around the brunette, revealing more of her curves and backside. Even her tight-fitted tank top that displayed her womanly busty’s made the man’s cock twitch as they bounced merrily.

When she entered the motel room, the man waited a couple more minutes, taking one good draw of his cigarette puffing out a cloud of smoke before exiting the vehicle. Throwing the cig on the ground, he swaggers across the street, taking out a spare room key from the pocket of his blazer, and approached quietly to the door to room 6.

---

Frankie let out a faint moan, feeling a wave of pleasure overtake her as she played frantically with her clit. Her face growing red hot, firmly cupping one of her breasts, whimpering lowly when she twisted the nipple to feel the burning friction and pressed down on a particular spot of her clit that made her see stars.

After she stepped inside the room, the brunette did not waste time quickly disposing of all her clothes and hopped daintily on top of the bed, not even bothering to turn on the light. She wanted to start slowly, gradually roaming her hands around her body and steadily rubbing her slit on the outer layer of her boxers, but the brunette was impatient. Hungry for the pleasure that would push her over the edge. Intimacy she hadn’t felt for a long time.

Now, sprawled out on the bed, Frankie writhed in frustration, her free hand clenching the pillow below her head as she concentrated on the small squelching sounds of her pussy from teasing her bud. Eyes shut tight, biting back her cries of bliss. She could feel it rising, the knot in her stomach tightening, aching to be released. Yet Frankie refused to, not wanting to climax so soon. Not without him.

She wondered where he was. Wishing -fuck- begging for him to show up and claim her, ruin her, make her a mess. Turning her head toward the nightstand, she saw the red numbers illuminate from the digital clock reading 8:22 pm. Maybe he was running late. The river always kept him busy and distracted, slowly drifting him away from her, leaving her to sink further into the watery depths of the current to drown. Maybe she was set up, that this was another one of the pin-up’s sick jokes to get back at her. Frankie’s chest ached tightly at the many dejecting thoughts consuming her, stopping and removing her hand out of her boxers. He’s not showing up, Frankie thought, tears beginning to cloud her vision.

Suddenly, a pair of hands swiftly grabbed her by the leg and thigh, pulling the brunette down at the edge of the bed. Frankie released a startled squeal, opening her eyes widely to see the dark outline of a man hovering above, two dimly lit orbs longingly staring at her. She gazed back up at the man with a slack-jaw, blushing. Wondering how long had he been here, watching her touch herself soundlessly. Her breath hitched, jolting when she felt the cold but comforting touch of the man, delicately tracing her slender frame. Sending her body trembling every time the tip of his fingers draw near a sensitive bit. He moves down to her breasts, burying his face between them, giving small pecks and soft bites of reassurance that left the brunette flush, turning her head to the side biting her fist to hold back the moans. Noticing this, the man then latched his mouth onto one of her nipples. Frankie hissed and jerked at the pleasurable shock as he sank his teeth into her, granting a loud moan to escape from her lips. She could sense the man looking up, smirking smugly. He repeated his action one more time, greedily wanting to hear her whines and soundless beggings.

Hooking a finger on the waistband of her boyshorts, he steadily tugged the fabric down, opening her legs to fully exposing her wetness. The brunette’s breathed heavily as the man left a trail of tender kisses, going down between her legs. Before he could press his lips against her heat, his hand brushed her thigh accidentally, making the girl flinch and back away out of instinct. He looked up at her with a furrowed brow, questioning what he did to make her panic and flee so slightly. Then it hit him. His eyes darted back at her leg and at the wooden prosthesis still strapped onto her mid-thigh, realizing the mistake he made. He looked back up to her, kissing her other leg apologetically, signaling that he wasn’t going to do anything she was thinking of again. Frankie mumbled an ok before moving hesitantly closer, carefully leaning back and opening her legs once more.

Immediately, he sinks his face into her cunt, dragging his tongue up and down her slit to savor her juice. Frankie whined and stirred, arching her back at the feeling of him vigorously eating her out. As his mouth focused on engorging her clit, he worked two fingers into her hole, perfectly sliding inside her.

The brunette choked out a moan at the intrusion, grabbing ahold of the bedsheets as he slowly dragged his fingers out and quickly shoved them back in, setting a rough pace that hit her g-spot with every thrust. Her hips began to move to meet his fingers and tongue as he proceeded to fuck her, picking up his pace and going knuckles deep. She felt pressure build in the pit of her stomach, increasing by the second. With a brisk roll of his tongue over her clit, Frankie arched her back and spasmed into a powerful orgasm.

“Oh, f-fuck!” Frankie’s eyes rolled back as her body shook violently, huffing out of breath at the sensation.

When the brunette came down from her high, she thought that was the end of it. Only for the man to grab both her hips and pulled Frankie closer to his face, continuing to burrow his tongue into her, repeatedly hitting her sweet spot. Frankie tensed up at the feeling of being stimulated again, bracing for another climax that was closing in. She reached down to try and pull his head away from her. To no avail, the man moving it away by extending his hand out to hers, fingers intertwined. No matter how many times she squirmed away from the man’s face, he would always go forward and proceed to work on her cunt, digging his nails into her skin. Then the brunette made an attempt to roll over to detach his lips from her folds, but it only flipped him over to his back, pulling her to sit on his face.

“S-stop. I-It’s too -fuck- It’s too much,” The brunette arose, gripping at the man’s hands as support, as well as to pry them open, “Fu-Fuck, I’m gonna- AH!” She cried out, snapping her head back as another orgasm came crashing shockwaves of ecstasy into her. The man emitted a mm, parting his lips away from her snatch to breathe. Frankie took it as an opportunity to free herself from him, wearily getting off and slumping next to the man on her back, also catching her breath.

Not even a minute had passed when she heard the metal clang of a belt and looked down to see the silhouette of the man seated upwards. He began to remove his pants, tugging them down to his knees, and turned to face the brunette.

“Just give me a minute.” She responded with a raspy voice, lifting herself gradually. Frankie perched at the side of the bed, unclasping the leather strap of her prosthesis. Removing her leg, she leaned it against the wall and crawled back to the middle, spreading out to present herself to the man. With a slight close-lipped smile, she purred, “Ready when you are, cariño.”

#tppkinktober2021 #johnson reprisal #reprisal johnson #kinktober #david dastmalchian

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seanfalco · 4 years

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I saw pictures of Sheehan with dogs/puppies and now I want to know what Aevryn would do if Valdo surprised her with a puppy as like an anniversary gift or part of proposing or somethig? Or if it doesn't work for you vision cus cute fluffy pets aren't punk or he's a cat person, maybe something with Valdo and the reader and a dog? If you want, ya know. Or just so you know those pictures exist and can drive yourself mad deciding which is cuter him or the baby dog.

Fandom: The Witcher Punk!AU

Pairing: Punk!Valdo x oc (Aevryn Swift) / Platonic!Valdo x Reader

Word Count: 1732

Rating: G

Taglist: @ficsandcatsandficsandcats @nevadawolfe @magic-multicolored-miracle @coffee-and-stories @whatevermonkey

a/n: Bless nonny, this was so cute and just what I needed. (Also fluffy pets are hella punk rock ;p) Also also guhhh Robert + dogs *heart eyes*

Aevryn always looked so beautiful in sleep, her usual vibrant exuberance melting to peaceful vulnerability, and as Valdo watched her, her chest rising and falling softly, his fingers combing through her wavy hair, he felt he might drown in the depth of his affection for her.

It had been nearly a year since she’d given him a second chance and they were happier than ever; each day a new opportunity for him to prove he deserved it. However each day it also became harder for him to keep holding back the proposal that he’d already planned in minute detail, wanting every part of it to be absolutely perfect – which was why it was crucial for him to wait just a bit longer.

In the meantime though that didn’t mean he couldn’t do something just as special for their anniversary.

Aevryn stirred in her sleep, and half awake pulled him closer, not articulate enough to chastise him for watching her but knowing she wanted him near, and he settled in without complaint, a smile on his lips as his soft curls pressed against her cheek.

——

Valdo Marx was always fashionably late, so when he’d asked you to meet him at eleven, you knew he wouldn’t actually arrive until closer to eleven twenty, and sure enough there he was, right on time.

“Ah, [Y/N], I hope you weren’t waiting long,” he exclaimed as he crossed the street, pushing his sunglasses up into his mess of hair and greeting you with a slightly awkward hug.

“So what is this terribly important task you need my help with?” you asked, a grin tugging at your lips as Valdo shifted uncomfortably.

“Well, I actually need your help picking out a gift for Aev,” he admitted, and you gaped at him with surprise.

Certainly he would know Aevryn’s tastes a little better than you – it wasn’t as if you weren’t her friend as well, it was just that Valdo had known her considerably longer, and besides, the man usually gave such lavish presents that you doubted how much help you’d be.

“Uhm, okay, what sort of gift?” you asked, trying to get an idea of what you were working with here.

“I want to get her a dog, well, a puppy to be precise,” he answered, “she’s always wanted one.”

“Wouldn’t that be something you should pick out together?” you wondered aloud and Valdo frowned, thick brows drawing together.

“I suppose, but I wanted to surprise her. Our second first anniversary is swiftly approaching and Aev’s not exactly big on jewelry,” he explained. “Though there is one piece of jewelry I think, well, I hope she’ll like,” he muttered and your eyes grew, a mischievous smile lighting up your face.

“In the shape of a ring perhaps?” you pressed.

Valdo’s rueful expression gave him away and you gasped in excitement. “Do you already have it?”

“Would you like to see it?” he asked, and you were already nodding your head aggressively.

He chuckled at your enthusiasm and reached into the depths of his coat pocket, pulling out a little velvet box, snapping it open as you leaned in closer. The delicate engagement ring nestled inside the box was obviously finely crafted, the band designed to look like a sliver twig and the modest diamond topping it glittered in the sunlight; a matching stackable wedding band accompanied it, decorated with a tiny silver leaf.

“It’s beautiful,” you whispered, glancing up to catch a glimpse of the pride in Valdo’s bottle green eyes. “She’s going to love it.”

Clearing his throat Valdo closed the box and carefully returned it to its hiding place. “Thank you,” he exclaimed, practically beaming. “I certainly hope so.”

“Just how long have you been carrying that around?” you queried, cocking an amused eyebrow at him and Valdo flushed, glancing away.

“Only a couple months,” he muttered sheepishly.

Stifling your laughter behind your hand you decided to stop your teasing. “Okay! So, puppies,” you announced, clapping your hands together to change the subject. “Does Aev have a favourite breed?” you asked, getting down to business.

“Uhh…” Valdo looked lost. “Our neighbor when we were children had this shaggy golden beast that Aev was particularly fond of.

Having a feeling you knew which dog he was talking about you brought up a photo on your phone. “Is this it?” you asked and Valdo’s eyes lit up with recognition.

“Yes, that’s exactly it.”

“That’s a golden retriever.”

“Perfect!” he exclaimed, “So where do we get one?”

——

Having steered him away from any pet shops that no doubt sold puppies from puppy farms, you walked into the local animal shelter, warning him that he might not find a golden retriever, but that another dog in need of a home might catch his eye and Valdo agreed anyway, eager to scope out the canine selection. It wasn’t long before Valdo’s delighted gasps could be heard at every new kennel he passed, though his discerning eye kept him moving on.

“Hmm,” you mused, glancing around, “it doesn’t look like they have any golden retrievers here, would you like to try somewhere else?”

Your question was met with silence.

“Valdo?”

That’s when you saw him, a little french bulldog clutched in his arms happily licking his face as Valdo laughed delightedly.

“[Y/N]!” he cried, turning to you. “I think I’m in love! Look at how cute he is!”

You couldn’t help the laugh that burst from your lips and you quickly snapped a photo to show Aevryn later, certain she would want to see this.

“[Y/N], do you think Aev will like him?” he asked, smiling down at the wiggly dog in his arms. “Or should I keep looking…?” He asked, clearly depressed by the thought. “I mean, clearly he’s not a golden retriever…”

Valdo trailed off and your heart almost broke at the crestfallen expression that crossed his face as he put the dog down.

“Hey,” you said, quickly placing your hand on his shoulder. “Y’know, goldens get pretty big and neither you nor Aev have ever had a dog before, why don’t you start out small while you learn the ropes and then you can always pick out a golden puppy together later?”

Your words seemed to make up his mind and Valdo’s grin returned. “Yes, that sounds like sound reasoning to me. Did you hear that little guy? I think you’re the one,” he addressed the dog, who gazed up at him with his little tongue lolling.

As Valdo carried the dog out to the car, happy as a clam, you couldn’t help but smile as well, wishing you could be there to see Aev’s face when she saw him.

“Okay, now we have to get everything he might need. And only the best!”

“Are you going to name him or let Aevryn do the honors?”

“Oh, I’m letting Aev choose his name. He is my gift to her after all.”

Sure, you thought as you watched him fuss over the little bulldog. As if he wasn’t already completely enamored himself.

——

As sneaky as possible Valdo set the dog up in one of the spare rooms, hoping against hope it wouldn’t bark and ruin his surprise until he was ready for the big reveal. He barely slept through the night, constantly checking in on the little guy.

The next morning Valdo woke early, carefully extricating himself from Aevryn’s arms to get breakfast started and to let the puppy out.

Soon he was carrying a tray piled high with all of Aev’s favourite breakfast food back to the bedroom and setting it on the dresser before crawling back in bed to wake her with a kiss.

Aevryn hummed, pulling him closer. “Something smells amazing,” she murmured, a soft moan slipping through her parted lips as Valdo continued to trail kisses along her jaw and neck; his curls brushing her skin as he moved.

“Happy second first anniversary,” he said softly, peering into her eyes before capturing her lips in another firmer kiss.

Aevryn laughed, wrapping her arms around him in a crushing hug. “I can’t believe it’s already been a year,” she replied, never wanting to let go. “Knowing you, I have a feeling you have all sorts of things planned for today.”

Loosening her grasp she let him pull back. “Of course, love,” he purred, “starting with breakfast in bed, and then I have a little surprise for you.”

“Oh?” Aev asked, tilting her head to watch him get up and bring the tray of delicious smelling food over. She could remember when he could barely make scrambled eggs without burning them and now he was making crepes and eggs and bacon and toast all on his own.

Breakfast was followed inevitably with a steamy repeat of what had happened the night before and Aev whined as afterwards Valdo slipped out of her arms and out of bed to retrieve her surprise, placing the puppy in a large box with a bow for the quick trip across the house. When he returned to the bedroom he was met with a pout which swiftly turned to curiosity as she eyed the box in his hands.

“What, pray-tell is that?” she asked, crawling closer as he set the present on the bed.

“Open it,” he prompted, crawling back under the covers next to her.

Eyeing him excitedly she pulled the lid off and covered her gasp with her hand, a high-pitched squeal still escaping as the puppy looked up at her with his big brown eyes.

“Valdooooo,” she cried, pulling the dog out of the box to hold in her arms. “Did you really get us a puppy for our anniversary?”

The pleased smirk that crossed his face only grew as the puppy wriggled excitedly, licking Aevryn’s face to her shrieks of laughter.

“I take it you like him?”

“Like him? I love him! He’s the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen!” Aev exclaimed, throwing herself and the puppy into Valdo’s arms. Landing amongst their pillows in a heap, the puppy barking excitedly, Valdo laughed, pressing a kiss to Aev’s temple.

“I’m glad, love.”

“What’s his name?” she asked, stroking his little nose with her finger as he settled on top of Valdo’s chest.

“I figured you could name him.”

Scrunching up her nose in thought Aev suddenly smiled. “You look like a Romeo to me.”

#punk!au #punk!valdo #punk!aevryn #valdryn #platonic!valdo x reader #reader request #my writing

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toevenexist · 7 years

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I have a prompt for u or for anyone who wants to write Omelia fluff:) They are on their way somewhere and Owen or Amelia gets carsick so they take them to the hospital and they find out (amelia is pregnant or Owen has cancer something like that. )

Pulling Over

Thank you so much for this prompt! I consider myself a preggo pro now so I thought I’d bang this out in one night. I hope it is what you had in mind and that you like it!

Please give me some feedback! I love to hear from you. Like and reblogs are so so appreciated.

Enjoy xxx

“Okay so I’ll drive first?” Amelia said, grinning, holding the keys against her chest. He grinned back, chuckling at her as she ran around the car to the driver’s seat, leaving him with the bags. He popped the trunk and could hear the radio playing.

“What have you got in here Amelia?” he called through the car. She beamed back, eyes shining, “All the essentials” she said, shaking her head, turning back and starting the engine. Rain started to fall as Owen closed the trunk. He looked up at the overcast sky, squinting. Amelia honked the horn once, “Come on, stop daydreaming we’ve got a conference to talk at!” Amelia bellowed jovially from her window.

Owen chortled, speeding around the car and jumping in, just as the rain began to pour.

“Okay” he huffed, out of breathe from his hurry into the car. “Let’s go.” She nodded sharply with a wide smile and pulled out of their drive.

“What time tomorrow are we speaking?” Amelia asked, eyes fixed ahead on the road. Owen lifted the booklet he held, “Er… eleven thirty, it starts at nine AM” he grimaced.

“Still a bit of a lie in” Amelia said, pouting a smile. He nodded, sighing, relaxing back in his chair. “When shall we swap?” he said, twisting the dial to change the radio.

“Erm…” Amelia widened her eyes on the road and swallowed hard. “Err…” she inhaled sharply and blew out a long steady breath. “Amelia?” Owen stopped his hands and looked to her, concerned. She forced a smile, “Maybe at the next gas station?” she said, shakily. Owen furrowed his brows, moving his hand to rest on her thigh, startling her slightly. She looked down at his hand and relaxed, allowing herself to revel in the warmth of it. “We can pull over here if you want to switch now?” he said.

“No, no it’s okay, I just need to drink something, what do we have? Something sugary?”

“Yeah… this one?” he said, holding up a can of mountain dew. She nodded, her smile lopsided as she dried to push away the sick feeling that was creeping up on her. “Here…” he passed her the open can, watching her drink from it with a shaky hand. She sensed his concern and smiled, “I had a long surgery today, only ate this morning and then again before we left.

She set the can into the cup holder and gripped the steering wheel. “If you had to pick another specialty and never do trauma again… what would you do?” she said, glancing quickly between him and the road. He twisted his lips and sat back in his chair, he hummed. “I think cardio… still a little trauma’y, and I like the thorax” he nodded, looking to her. “How about you?” Amelia swallowed, trying to shake her lightheadedness.

“Err… I think… trauma” she said, smiling.

“Yeah? Yeah, I can see that… you getting your trauma on” He chuckled, nodding. Amelia laughed, eyes fixed on the road. Rain began to hammer down and she turned up the window wipers to the maximum. “I’m sorry about Edwards… I never got the chance to say. I know you really liked her” Owen spoke, watching how a sadness seeped into her being at his words. She smiled slightly, glancing at him. “I did, she… she had a lot of potential… she’s going traveling, she said she’d send me postcards” Amelia beamed tearfully. Owen observed her, light moving across her face from the street lamps, setting her eyes aflame. She bit her bottom lip and grimaced.

“I… need” she began, switching on the indicator, and pulling over. “Can we switch now?” she let go of the steering wheel, realising then how tightly she’d been gripping it.

“Yeah…” Owen cupped her shoulder, squeezing it, trying to get her to look at him, but she avoided his gaze, bringing her hand up to her forehead and closing her eyes.

“Amelia… what’s wrong?” Owen shifted in his seat, turning to her. “Nothing, I just… feel weird… its okay” she said, opening her door and swivelling her feet out. She pulled herself out, into the rain and began to walk around the car. Her legs felt like jelly. Owen jumped out, he couldn’t see Amelia.

“Amelia” he screamed as he ran around the car. She was on the floor, on her side. Owen dropped to his knees beside her and rolled her onto her back. “Amelia… sweetie wake up, Amelia” She began to flinch as the rain hit her face, she panted.

“Owen” she whimpered. Before she could even begin to wonder what had happened Owen scooped her up and ran her around the car, sitting her in the passenger seat.

“Owen” she said again, squeezing her eyes open and closed, rubbing her hand over her face, letting Owen fuss around her. He reclined the seat back and put on her seat belt, coming up to her face and holding it between his hands. Rain droplets fell from her lashes and ran down her face like tears, though her eyes looked wet enough to produce them.

“Owen… what…” she uttered, squeezing her eyes shut again. He dropped a kiss against her forehead and moved back out into the rain. Running around to the driver’s seat.

“I want to take you to the hospital” he said, once they were on the road again.

“No” she said, reaching to pick up the soda. Owen blindly picked it up and handed it to her. “I just need to eat, I’ll be fine Owen… Please” his expression following her words was one she was used to seeing. Frustration. She knew he just wanted to care for her. “Please” she continued, wrapping her arms around herself, feeling uncomfortably drenched.

He kept looking at her, eyes darting between the her and the road. “Okay” he sighed. “Reach down behind my chair, underneath” she shivered in reply and reached down pulling out a thick wool blanket. She wrapped it around herself and pulled it tight, closing her eyes and laying back.

Owen frowned, unhappy with Amelia’s stubbornness. He turned up the heating and released a long breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding in. “Thank you O” she whispered, lolling her head against the seat belt, and closing her eyes.

Amelia had been asleep for roughly an hour when she shot forward, pressing her chest to her knees. She groaned, Owen could hear a rustling of plastic. “Amelia, what’s wrong?” he was met by the sound of her retching, and then she vomited into the plastic bag that had previously held drinks and snacks. “I’m pulling over” he said, turning the indicator on again.

“No” she managed to say. He ignored her, pulling over and turning off the engine. The overhead light blinked on.

The silence gave way to the sound of Amelia expelling her stomach contents. She wept, shakily sitting up, holding the handles of the bag. Owen opened his door and jumped out. In seconds he was opening her door and taking the bag from her, disappearing and returning empty handed.

“We’re going to the hospital” He spoke firmly. She turned onto her side in the chair and pulled the blanket around herself again. She didn’t argue, she just closed her eyes. “Can you pass me the water?” she whispered softly. He moved quickly, her demeanor sparking more worry.

“I’ll get a wheel chair” Owen said, as they pulled into a parking space. Amelia shook her head.

“No Owen, I can walk just fine” she said, looking across the lot to the lit up entrance of the unfamiliar ER. Owen relented again, climbing out of the car, meeting her as she stood, unsteadily, from her seat. ‘What the fuck is wrong with me?’ she thought and she held onto the car door to prevent herself from losing her legs from under her. She met Owens eyes and found the same question there. “Come on then” he said, supporting her away from the car and locking it.

She smiled up at him sheepishly, holding onto both his hands. “Flash forward to us as an old couple” she said. He chuckled and shook his head.

“I’ll lose my mobility before you do. It’ll be the other way round, you’ll be keeping me up” Owen said, as they walked through the doors to the ER. “We can go around on scooters” she said, smiling brightly though she felt like shit.

“How long until we get the results back from my wife’s blood test?” Owen called out from the door to Amelia’s room.

“Amelia?” The nurse asked sweetly. Owen nodded and moved over to the desk, waiting as the nurse typed into the computer. “Results are back, the doctor needs to have a look at them and will be in to discuss them soon. Does Amelia need anything? Is she comfortable?” The nurse spoke as she rounded the desk, walking him back to Amelia’s room. “Yes she’s…” he stopped at the door and observed Amelia, sleeping with her back to the door, an IV tube lying across her waist, running into the back of her hand. “She’s sleeping.”

The nurse smiled kindly, and walked ahead of him into the room, checking Amelia’s blood pressure and temperature, writing it in her chart.

“Hello, erm Mr Hunt, is it?” a short gentleman greeted Owen from behind him.

“Hi, it’s Dr Hunt” Owen replied, shaking the man’s hand.

“Mrs Shepherd Hunt” the doctor spoke to Amelia. Owen moved to her side and laid his hands on her. “Amelia” she stirred, looking around the room at all the faces. She reached for Owen’s hand and squeezed it, rolling onto her back. “I’ve had a look at your results just now and I have a couple of questions for you.” The doctor said, sitting on a stool beside the bed. Amelia nodded, eyes wide with fright. “Have you been having your menstrual period as normal?” he asked her and both Owen and Amelia drew back at the words. Amelia’s hand became clammy in Owens.

“I… I’ve been having them at the normal time” she said, eyelids fluttering open and closed in quick succession.

“Normal flow?” he said, writing a quick note on the clipboard in his lap. Amelia watched his pen wiggling in his hand. “No…” Owen looked at her sharply, mouth hanging open slightly. “They’ve been light” she said.

“Is she…” Owen found himself saying, they all looked his way, “Is she… pregnant?” the words felt foreign as they left his lips. The doctor smiled quickly and closed the file. “I believe so” he said, turning to the nurse, “Nurse will you fetch a sonogram machine please” he said and the nurse hurried from the room.

Amelia had frozen, holding onto Owen’s hand with unfaltering strength. “You have extremely high levels of hCG in your blood, leading me to believe that you are in fact pregnant. Now I want to do a scan because your levels are very high, and you are clearly not ‘very’ pregnant, so…”

“You think we’re having more than one?” Owen said, eyebrows raised in shock. Amelia slowly moved her other hand to hold Owens as well. She gazed up at the ceiling in disbelief and bit down on her lip.

The nurse came in then, rolling the machine along side her on squeaky wheels. The doctor stood up, moving the machine into place. “Mrs Shepherd-Hunt, could you lift your shirt?” Amelia looked to him, a confused expression painting her face. She inhaled sharply, looking to Owen, who smiled tightly, stroking her hair back. The doctor pulled down the blanket and lifted her shirt.

“It seems my suspicions were correct” the doctor pressed the transducer against Amelia’s abdomen and she winced, a single tear falling from her eye.

She pouted, looking away from the screen, over Owen’s shoulder. She heard the doctor speak, “See” he said, Owen gasped, running his hand up and down Amelia’s arm. “Are they okay?” Owen asked, and Amelia tightened her hold on his hand, grimacing. “They are. Just perfect, about nine weeks” Amelia looked then, with frantic searching eyes.

The doctor saw this and pushed the screen closer to her, smiling sympathetically, he had read her medical history. He zoomed in on each of their heads, lingering there until Amelia relaxed. “Okay?” he said, looking between the couple. Owen nodded, wearily, Amelia held onto the transducer, still fixated on the screen, mouth agape.

“Amelia” Owen said, pulling her eyes from the screen. She stared straight at him, eyes drilling into his. Her face was sad for a moment before breaking into an exhausted smile, laughing softly. He beamed back, tears slipping from his blue orbs. The nurse cleared away all the equipment and laid paper towels against Amelia’s stomach. Owen leaned forward and captured her lips with his, tasting her salty tears.

“I don’t know where you were heading but I recommend you head on home, rest up until you get over this sickness bug. You are pregnant with twins, which means you need to take extra care now. Especially if you are sick.” Owen and Amelia nodded, both feeling more overwhelmed by the second. “Go and see your OB/GYN as soon as possible so they can be familiar with your case” he stood, sitting her folder under his arm. “I’ll get you some prenatal vitamins and then you are free to go.”

Amelia and Owen were left stunned to silence. Amelia still held onto Owen’s hand with both of hers. Tissue paper clung to the gel on her stomach, and it rippled with every harsh breath she took. Owen chuckled again and shook his head, gazing into Amelia’s eyes, he dropped a kiss against her lips and she kept him there, finally letting go of his hand to pull him closer, deepening the kiss. “I love you so much” Owen spoke against her lips.

“I love you” she said, muffled by their kiss. Owen stood up straight and looked at her stomach. Amelia followed his gaze and watched as he wiped her clean, drawing out the strokes as an excuse to have his hands there.

She sat up, curling her legs under her and pulled Owen onto the bed, into her arms. “Let’s go home Owen” she held onto him tightly, feeling the cloth of his shirt against the bare skin of her stomach. “I want to go home.” Owen nodded, depressing a kiss into her hair, inhaling her scent.

“Home it is” he said, with a gentle smile, climbing off the bed without losing contact.

It struck him hard as he watched her pull down her shirt and stand, feeling her rely on him to help her stand; his painful love for her, the sheer panic he felt at the idea of anything happening to her. He swallowed and clenched his teeth. “O, what’s wrong?” Amelia said, slipping on her shoes and taking his hand. He smiled, shaking his head gently, “I’m just realising now, what a pain in the ass I’m going to be to you” he blurted and she stopped, staring up at him before grinning. “Oh I know” she said, looping her arm through his. He chuckled again, kissing her again as they walked from the room.

Fin.

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houseofglass · 7 years

Text

ABO Virus: Pack Life Chapter 10 - Pregnant

AO3 link

Dean woke in the wee hours of the morning for what felt like no reason at all. He tested the channels and discovered his two mates sleeping deeply, so it wasn't them that woke him. He tuned his ears to the bunker and found no threat present, so it wasn't that. He felt a spark flare inside of him. Yes, that was it. Followed by intense nausea.

He managed to get himself off the bed and into the bathroom before kneeling in front of the bowl and doing his business as quietly as he could. No, he thought, not again. Please, he prayed to nobody in particular. When he felt like he wasn't going to be needing the toilet for that purpose any more, he rinsed his mouth and brushed his teeth. Just to be sure, he pulled the plug out and drained himself, thinking maybe he had a poop brewing. He was wrong. The spark was still there and eerily familiar.

He wanted to scream and shout at the top of his lungs but knew that would not be wise. More than anything, he wanted to process what was happening without anyone else around. He wanted to know how he felt before other people put their opinions on him. Testing the channels again he found his pack still asleep and unaware. Dean crept into the bedroom as quietly as he could. Taking every bit of energy he could muster, he kept his shields up so as not to alert the two sleeping figures he was awake. Dean got dressed in the first things he grabbed, found his phone and keys, and exited.

Dean clutched the keys as tightly as he could so he didn't make any noise while he got his boots on. It wasn't easy, but he managed. With one thread of reason left he scribbled a note and left it on the kitchen table. He suspected he would catch Hell for driving alone, but he would deal with that later. The chances of running into any Alphas on the rutting drug at this time of the morning was extremely slim. He hoped. One last test of the channel confirmed they were still asleep, and he snuck out.

Never had Baby's engine been as loud as it was in that instant. The roar filled the garage, the vibration shook the foundation, the raising of the garage door rattled the walls. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he put Baby in drive, and left.

He had zero idea how long he drove. All he knew was it was dark when he left the bunker and now the sky was lit from below the horizon in the promise of a sunny day. The roads were blessedly empty, the air shockingly fresh, and the world thankfully asleep. Once he got far enough away that he couldn't feel his connection with his mates, he let himself begin to absorb what was happening to him. When he felt like he couldn't contain himself one more second, he found a side road and pulled over next to a chain link fence. Baby was barely in park before he was outright bawling. Huge, heaving sobs made him unable to do anything other than hold the steering wheel while he rode the wave. It crested, as waves tend to do, and he felt himself come back to reality. A quick fumble in the glove box revealed the Kleenex packet Sam had left there from before, when Dean was weepy frequently. He cleaned himself as best he could, considering his eyes still leaked.

And so he sat, dazed, staring out the windshield without seeing a damn thing. The spark flared again. Dean grabbed the tissue packet and left the car as if he could leave the spark in the seat. He walked for a bit before seeing a bench facing the sunrise. He didn't even think about it, he just plopped himself down and stared at the trees and how a beaten path slipped around them until it was out of sight. While he stared into the distance he unconsciously brought a hand to his mark and rubbed it gently.

A woman approached from behind and sat next to him, startling him so badly he had to check to make sure he didn't A) wet himself or B) have a heart attack. She seemed completely unfazed that he'd jolted as if he was electrocuted. When he composed himself, he noticed she was holding a chipped mug out to him, and the delicious aroma of coffee drifted to his nose. “Didn't know what you took in your coffee, so it's only got two sugars,” she said as if they'd been talking for hours.

“Uh...th-thanks?” Dean took the mug and sipped from it, the sugar sweetening the dark roast only enough to cut the bitterness down.

She nodded in acknowledgement and drank from her own mug of milky coffee.

Dean stared at her, his own issue pushed away for the moment. She was, he realized, what a scriptwriter would describe as 'indeterminate age'. Her hair had white in it, her face lined, her hands gnarled with arthritis or a lifetime of hard labour. She was small but not small. Short for sure, possibly even under five feet tall, and stocky. Not wiggly fat, but firm and muscular with soft edges. Her clothes were somewhat mismatched; a blue t-shirt with a polka-dotted skirt, beige cable knit cardigan, striped fuzzy socks in unlaced beat up army boots, feet dangling slightly from the bench. She could be anywhere from 35 to 70. And she had no scent.

“You have no scent,” Dean blurted then blushed. “I mean.....”

“No, I did not present. Immune, you know. Or too damn old for the virus.” She didn't sound put off by his comment, or even ruffled.

“I'm Omega,” he offered, unsure if she wanted to know.

“Yes. Your mark gave that away.” She tipped her head to his neck.

To avoid talking, Dean drank more coffee and tried to drown the feeling that he had been unsettled and now was not. “Do you live nearby?” he asked when he couldn't stand the silence of her sipping her coffee and gazing at the world in front of her.

A smile ghosted over her mouth as the mug reached her lips. Pausing from her sip she said, “well. This is my bench. In my yard. On my property. That is fenced in,” and then took her sip. She lowered the mug and cradled it with both hands in her lap. “So yes. I live nearby.”

Dean felt himself flush right down to his toes. He did remember parking next to a tall chain link fence. There might have even been a 'no trespassing' sign on it. He only had to move one panel to get in, now that he thought about it. Obviously it was a gate the same height as the fence, but it hadn't been chained. If he really thought about it, there were ruts in the road below the gate. It was a driveway. Well fuck.

He didn't know if he should apologize, leave, or make excuses, so he just sat. “I'm pregnant,” he startled himself by saying out loud.

She tilted her head back and laughed, taking ten years off her face. “What a wild ride! Men who can get pregnant. Who would have predicted that?” She shook her head in amusement before resuming her stare at the trees.

Dean twisted his face back to the same view. “So....no congratulations or anything?” he ventured with more than a splash of confusion.

“Is this a congratulatory event?”

“I....” Dean was at a complete loss. “I don't know,” he finally admitted, fiddling with the handle of his mug.

“I would hazard a guess that it is not.” She tipped her head thoughtfully. “Not yet, anyway,” she amended.

“Why?”

She looked at him, full on for the first time since sitting down. “You are on a stranger's property without realizing it. You are driving alone, at dawn. Your face shows signs of crying. Your shirt is inside out. Your shoulders are slumped as if there are weights sitting on them. You were so lost in your own world you didn't notice my approach, and I was not attempting to be quiet. You are mated. You are well cared for. I would guess that your pregnancy was not planned.”

“Ok. All right. That's......accurate.” Shockingly accurate, he thought.

She turned back and resumed her assessment of the scene in front of her. The sun had broken the horizon and was sending beams through the forestry.

“I had an abortion. Before.” Why am I telling her this? he thought as he felt the sun warm his knee. He checked his shirt, it was indeed inside out.

She simply nodded thoughtfully.

“I shouldn't have been able to get pregnant. The abortion caused damage. And I'm on birth control,” he babbled.

“I see,” she said without judgment. She drank more coffee, toeing her boots off. She raised her legs and thrust her toes into the sunbeam, smiling a little.

“They won't be mad if I don't want to keep it.”

“Is that a fact,” she stated evenly while wiggling her toes in the thick socks.

Tears leaked out again along with a single sob. He tried to rein himself in and failed. Before he was aware of it, he was crying again. He covered his eyes with one hand and tilted his head away from her. She simply waited him out, swinging her feet gently. “I don't know what to do,” he cried.

“What do you want to do?”

“Keep it,” he said before thinking about it. He dug out his tissues so he could wipe his eyes and blow his nose.

“Then keep it,” she said with a single shoulder shrug.

Dean opened his mouth to talk but nothing came out. He gave an impression of a fish for a moment before managing, “but...” and nothing else.

“Why must there be a 'but'?” She asked just before drinking her coffee.

But what if the pup isn't healthy? But what if I'm not a good dad? But I'm too old. But a baby will change everything. But I don't want to be a baby factory. But what if I lose the pup? But what if I think I want it but I really don't? But what if I don't live long enough to see my pup become an adult? “Do you have children?” he asked somewhat nastily.

Her eyes cut to him sharply, making him jerk in his seat. “Watch your tone. You are a guest.” She visibly softened when he nodded. “Yes. I have had children.”

“What is the hardest part?” Dean wanted to know.

She considered it for a while. “Judgment from others.”

He was not expecting that. “I mean-”

“My answer stands.”

Dean gave a single nod. “Will you elaborate?” he tried.

Again, she considered. “The world I raised my children in seemed to be set up for mothers to fail. Always having 'you're a good mom if' held over your head. Heaven forbid you be in a homosexual relationship, or a different belief system for God, or not breastfeed, or breastfeed in public. And oh my word the number of people that offer unwanted, unsolicited advice about everything from diapers to college. Please understand, men were not subject to the same scrutiny. If the father changed even a single diaper he was lauded as a great father. A mother waits a few minutes to change the baby so she can stir supper or use the washroom and she's a neglectful mother.”

Dean took that in. He'd never even considered how it would be different if he was born female, how the world saw mothers different than fathers. He didn't even know if things were still this way, just replace 'Mother' with 'Omega', or if things are different now with the virus and men getting pregnant. “Judgment from others,” he whispered.

“Judgment from others,” she confirmed lowly. “What is your worst fear regarding your pregnancy?”

That made him shift in his seat uncomfortably. He hadn't thought that far. “Dunno,” he mumbled.

“I don't believe you.” There was no heat or accusation in her voice, just a simple statement of fact.

Anger flared in Dean. How dare she presume to know what I feel, or how I think, or what I'm afraid of or- “Judgment from others,” he sputtered.

“Care to elaborate?” she asked kindly.

“I don't like that people will see me differently. People will think less of me. I used to be....not important exactly....but....relevant. Somehow....I think.....people will see me as.....less.” Dean struggled with the core of what he wanted to say. By now he knew she would not rush him, so he took his time. “I don't want people tiptoeing around me because I aborted before. I don't want them thinking I'm unstable,” he admitted very quietly.

“Are you unstable?”

Dean took a long time with that one. Long enough to notice his coffee was cold. “Yes. A little. More than I ever was before I presented.”

“Ok.”

“Okay?!?” he sounded incredulous to his own ears.

She gave a single nod. “Ok.”

Dean flung his arm up and slapped it back down. “Aren't you going to give me some advice or something?”

“No.”

“No!??”

“No.” She slouched down in the seat so her toes could find her boots. She dropped her weight slightly to get them on without using her hands. “You already know what you want to do. You know how you feel and what you need. You know what the next step must be.” Very slowly she stood up, like she was testing her back and legs to ensure they could support her.

He watched her without offering help, her movements seeming so familiar to her that help didn't seem wanted. “I have to talk to Sam and Cas,” he confirmed.

Her eyebrow twitched up slightly as if to register the names, nothing more. She held her hand out for the mug, which he relinquished. “You have a big day ahead, and I have a small bladder. Drive safe now.” She turned and walked away without another word, clearly dismissing him.

Dean sat only for a moment, now feeling like he was intruding. When he got up he turned around and saw a house at the top of a small hill, maybe three hundred feet away. It wasn't exactly well tended, but nor was it terribly run down. He walked away slowly, turning everything over in his mind, knowing that he was going to have to talk to his mates sooner rather than later. They'd scent the pregnancy on him anyway. He had a fleeting thought that they must still be sleeping since they hadn't texted him at all. Pulling his phone out he saw it was dead. When he got to the car he plugged it in to the adapter just after starting the car. He waited until his phone charged enough to check and yes, there were a ton of messages from them. A peek at the clock told him he'd been out for longer than he'd realized, so he shot off a quick text saying he was driving but on his way home.

Baby rumbled nicely as Dean turned her around and set out back to the bunker with thoughts of cribs and baby clothes on his mind. It was shaping up to be a beautiful day, the morning sun already warming the world around him. It was irritatingly low on the horizon still, creating glare on his windshield. He didn't even see the car shoot out from a hidden intersection. He didn't feel the impact, only noticed that his windshield was shattered, and lamented to himself how expensive it was going to be to replace as his world went black.

#spn #supernatural fanfiction #ABO Virus #a/b/o/ dynamics #alpha castiel #beta sam winchester #omega dean winchester #mpreg #pregnant dean

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