#'when the worry sets in'. and yet he's clearly calm and full of love for all the young people he considers his children

[thought--bubble]

A Beautiful Gift

Billy Washington X (Girlfriend Reader)

Warnings after the cut

Word Count: 3,020

Billy Washington Masterlist

Full Masterlist

Banners and dividers by @arcielee

Based on THIS request

Warnings:: Emotional abuse, Depressed Billy, use of a collar and leash, use of restraints, sub/dom behaviors, slight choking if you squint, teasing, whimpering and whining Billy, orgasm denial, established relationship,unprotected p in v, oral male receiving.

Going out to dinner for Billy's birthday should be a fun experience. Unfortunately, whenever you go out with Billy and his parents, you know it is going to be anything but.

You know his parents love him, and are worried about his lack of success in life, but you have come to know Billy well enough to know that asking him repeatedly when he will get a job or why he isn't doing anything is not going to help motivate him.

"Calm down," you say to him gently as you button up his dress shirt. He is clearly nervous. His fidgety hands and tapping foot give this away all too easily.

"I am calm!" He sqauks. "It's just a bloody dinner." He pushes your hands away from his shirt. "I can do it myself. I'm a man"

You chuckle and sigh. "Of course you're a man, Billy. I was merely attempting to help." You hold up your hands and wiggle your fingers. "Small fingers, easier for me to get those little buttons. Now come here, " you pull him back toward you by his shirt collar.

"You are a man. A wonderful man." You smack your lips down on his and press your body up against him. Your favorite way to ground him when you feel his anxiety starting to overtake him.

"Oh, don't you start this." He laughs as he places his hands on your waist, pulling you impossibly tight up against him. "You'll make us late"

"Hmmmm," you giggle. "I don't think it would be too big a problem if we're a little late." You kiss him again, this time pushing your tongue past his lips, savoring the taste of tea and cigarettes.

"We wouldn't be a little late." he grips your waist tightly, scrunching the material of the cute black dress you had put on for dinner.

"You sure? I happen to remember a few times that were pretty quick, " you giggle again and lean in for another kiss.

Billy brings his hands down over your ass and squeezes tight before letting go and giving you a smack. "You're real funny, ain't ya?"

"I think so." You wink at him and then pull back briefly to finish buttoning his shirt before placing your hands flat on his chest. "You ready?"

"Yeah." He sighs and squeezes the bridge of his nose. "Let's get this over with."

The ride to the restaurant is awkward and quiet. You look over at him periodically as he drives. His jaw is tight, and his shoulders tense. You can see the tendons in his neck going down to his collar bone. You wish you could take this stress from him. Demand, he turn around and leave his parents at the restaurant alone, wondering why their failure son has declined to show up. But you know he would never do this, for there is a part of him that believes, believes that he will someday be the son his parents so want him to be. Something you doubt very much. Their minds are made up about Billy, and you fear if he should reach one goal, his parents would simply set the bar higher.

Once he pulls into the car park and stops the car, the two of you sit there in silence for a moment. You know better than to push him so you wait patiently as he builds himself up enough to go inside.

You know it's in vain, yet you decide to hope anyway. Hope that his parents won't take this dinner as an opportunity to tear him apart. To judge him, scold him, demand more of him. Especially on a day that is meant to celebrate him and his very existence.

Billy lets out one last deep sigh before stepping out of his old beat-up clunker of a car quickly rounding the vehicle to open your door for you.

He was like that. Little things like holding the door open for you or making you a cup of tea without asking were his love language. Acts of service. He had trouble outwardly expressing his emotions, no doubt a conditioned response. So he showed you how he felt, and everyone of these little gestures made you love him just a bit more.

You step out and link your arm with his, patting his forearm in a quiet sign of support.

The walk into the restaurant is silent. You can almost hear Billy's brain running a mile a minute, his self-confidence shrinking with every step.

When you arrive at the table, it's no surprise to you that Lana, Billy's sister, was unable to attend. She worked an important job and missed most family events. Although it almost felt like she was there with how much her parents spoke about her skills and achievements. As if to make it clear to Billy that he would never be able to rise to the occasion the way his ambitious sister had.

The two of you were sat down for no more than 5 minutes before the questions started rolling in from his parents.

"How is the job search going?" Was the first question from his father, and as Billy attempted to explain how many applications he had put in and how he is getting no response, his father shakes his head and simply states "if you really wanted a job you would have one by now."

His mother quickly joins in on the conversation with little tips and tricks of how to land a job and ways to motivate himself.

If only they knew how motivated he is. Billy wants a job. He wants to impress his parents even half as much as Lana. Unfortunately, just like his parents, the world underestimates poor Billy and squishes him down more and more with every rejection.

Dinner continues on in much the same manner, your tongue nearly bleeding at how hard you were biting down on it.

You keep one eye on Billy and watch with a heavy heart how he shrinks by the moment. How could they not see what this is doing to him?

When the dinner finally ends, Billy's father hands him money, a birthday gift of sorts, but of course comes with one last comment to bury Billy just a little bit more.

"You can use this to help pay the rent. I can't imagine that girl staying with you much longer if she's forced to support ya" he pats Billy on the shoulder while Billy stands in place frozen. You feel a fire rage in your belly and wish you could tear into his father. Let him know you would support Billy forever if that's what it took. But you knew this would only upset and embarrass Billy further, so you simply grimace and attempt to hide your eyeroll.

His parents say their goodbyes, not even noticing the state that Billy is in. You sigh again before sliding your hand into his and giving him a gentle tug to signal that it's time to go.

The ride home is silent, and your heart breaks a little bit more every moment he doesn't speak.

"I have some presents for you at home." You say softly, hoping to potentially lighten the mood.

Billy nods his head, his jaw clenched and eyes glued to the road ahead of him. He isn't mad at you. He isn't even mad at his parents. He is mad at himself, and you hate it.

Once back in the flat, Billy immediately goes onto the balcony and smokes. You know he feels awful right now, and you want to badly to make it better. He tries hard and just never seems to succeed in the way everyone expects him to, and the pressure makes it all the worse.

You take the two small gifts you have for him in your hands and join him on the balcony, handing them to him with a big smile on your face.

"Thank you," he grumbles, his voice so quiet you could hardly hear him over the traffic below.

He sits in the chair opposite yours and begins to unwrap his first gift. Inside a collar and a metal chain leash.

He chuckles quietly as he takes them out of the package and looks up at you. "Oh?"

You smile back at him, pointing to the gift that still lies in his lap.

"Open it," you bite your bottom lip as he starts to tear off the paper and lifts the lid of the small box, pulling out two black silk ropes.

He pulls them out of the box, slowly turning the material back and forth in his hands.

"Now I'm gonna go take off my makeup and take down my hair." You say while rising from your chair and moving towards the balcony door. "And when I return to the bedroom, I expect to find you, wearing only your collar." You don't wait for his response opting to instead enter the flat and head to the restroom.

You giggle to yourself as you hear him clamor through the door and take off toward the bedroom, half the buttons on his shirt already undone.

You take off your makeup and let your hair down, making sure not to finish up too fast. You want to give Billy enough time to get ready and give him a moment to sweat it out.

You take off your shoes but leave the little black dress and thigh high stockings you were wearing on. Knowing how Billy feels about you in a pair of thigh highs. It's his special day, after all.

When you enter the bedroom, Billy is lying in bed, his collar, and leash on, covered only by a sheet with the silk ropes placed neatly on the nightstand.

"Who said you could cover up?" You quickly pull the sheet from his body. Revealing his entire naked form to your eye. "I believe my instructions were nothing but your collar." You run just your finger up the skin of his leg as you work your way up to the top of the bed.

When your fingers reach his hip, he shudders.

"Oh?" You place your hand palm down and slide it across his belt line. The side of your hand just barely ghosting by the tip of his now fully erect cock.

Billy's back arches slightly at the touch. "Please don't tease," he begs.

"Me? Oh baby, I never tease you know that" you brush your fingertips through the blonde curls that surround the base of his cock as he whimpers. "Never"

You pull your dress up and over your head, leaving you in nothing but your black lace bra and panties and thigh-high stockings.

Billy reaches his hand out to touch your thigh, and you quickly swat him away.

"Oh, be a good pet baby, so I can give you your treat" you climb onto the bed swinging one leg over his hips so you are straddling him yet hovering above him just out of reach.

"Sorry, sorry," he whines as he crumples the sheets beneath him in his fists.

"Oh, that's ok baby, let me help you be a good boy, ok?" You lean over him, taking the silk straps from the nightstand.

"Thank you," he says between heavy pants. You click your tongue at him knowingly as you tie up his wrists and secure them to the bedposts.

Once you have his hands securely fastened, you lay your hands flat on his chest, rubbing your palms over his quickly hardening nipples.

Billy takes on a sharp breath, his hips lifting slightly from the bed.

"Down boy," you coo, moving your flattened hands in small circles.

"Please baby please" He whines, undulating his hips.

"Please, what? my sweet pet. " You bring your tongue to his nipple. Lightly licking the small bud as he squirms.

"More, please more," he gasps as your tongue continues to swirl around his oversensitive nipple.

Billy pathetic and squirming beneath you. Your favorite sight on earth.

You sit up straight and grab his leash, wrapping it around your hand twice and yanking him up from the bed so that his shoulders are lifted.

"You're gonna be a good patient boy, aren't you?" You bring your face close to his as he nods excessively. "Good. Good boy."

You loosen your grip around the leash, allowing him to sink back down onto the bed while you still keep the leash coiled around your hand.

Billy sighs contendly as you return to his chest, and speckle kisses down his sternum and further to his belly.

He loves these small movements and sensations. They drive him completely wild, and you revel in the power they afford you.

You gently lick the rim of his bellybutton, and he whimpers loudly.

"Shhhh, pet. Shhhh, " you rub your hand along the skin of his waist in a soothing manner while your kisses continue down the path of his body until you reach his hips, his painfully hard cock, next to your face.

"I always take care of you, do i not?" You tease, Billy simply whimpers back at you, leaning his head back in anguish.

You take his cock in your hand and he shudders before bucking his hips whispers of "yes" desperately flooding from his mouth.

You stroke him leisurely while rubbing your nose against his leaking tip. His heavy breathing and the obvious tension in his legs make this all the more tantalizing for you.

You know he is holding back, trying to be a good boy. You lick just the head of his cock. Circling your tongue around the bulbous tip.

Billy thrusts his hips forward, pushing himself further into your mouth, seemingly unable to control himself. You grip him tightly by the hips holding him flat against the bed as he whines.

"Please, please," He whimpers between huffs. "I can't take much more."

You crawl back up his body, situating yourself by straddling his stomach and look down at him, a gentle, caring smile on your face.

"You can't, can you baby?" You brush your fingers along his cheek and sigh.

You step off of him and slowly shimmy your panties down your legs. Billy's eyes watch them as they go, licking his lips, his panting growing heavier. You move back and line up the tip of his cock with your slick entrance.

As you slowly lower yourself down, Billy's body reacts by his hips raising and his legs shaking. The look on his face, a mix of pleasure and pain.

His fingers wrap tightly around the silk straps that connect him to the bedposts as you sink down his shaft at an agonizingly slow pace.

As your ass becomes flush with his thighs, you smirk at the look of relief that crosses his face.

Before you start to move, you again pull him off the bed by the leash, this time coiling it ever tight around your hand.

"You excited, baby?" You start to roll your hips, his cock bullying the spot inside you it never misses when you ride him like this.

"Yes, yes!" He pants, jaw slack looking up at you like the perfect little puppy you know him to be.

You hold him tightly by the leash as you increase your pace, his whimpers, and whines, getting louder with each movement.

You know your Billy. He won't last much longer at this stage, and knowing that brings you almost to your own peak. The friction between you building as you grind against him.

He's so beautiful like this. Panting beneath you, not worrying about disappointing anyone or not being good enough.

He's your silly little pet to be used as you see fit, and he loves it. His eyes roll back and his mouth opens wide.

"Not yet, baby." You move faster against him the knot in your stomach, pulling tighter as your thighs clamp around him.

"Not yet, not yet," he chants to himself. This little sign of obedience is what finally pushes you over the edge into bliss. Your peak washes over you, almost violent in its onset.

Your cunt clamps around him tightly as you continue to grind against him riding out the blissful moment almost to the point of over stimulation.

"Please," He gasps before biting his bottom lip impossibly hard. Poor baby is still holding back.

You make him wait for just a few more rolls of your hips before finally allowing him his release.

"Go ahead, baby." You coo, and almost as soon as the words leave your lips, he moans loudly, his hips stuttering as he spends himself inside you.

You sit patiently atop him as you watch his face contort in pleasure, small grunts of relief coming from his chest until he finally stills exhausted.

You lean forward and kiss his open mouth as he pants and smiles up at you, his arms now hanging limp from the silk straps that bind him.

"Such a good boy you are," you gently stroke his face, him turning his head towards your hand.

This is your favorite Billy. Freshly spent Billy. No worries, no stress, and he actually feels good.

You lift yourself off of him and release his hands from the straps. He quickly wraps his arms around you, pulling you in tightly and kissing the top of your head.

"So, did you like your gifts?" You snuggle up next to him and reach up to help him take the collar off.

Billy simply smiles as you remove the collar, rubbing your hand against the slightly red irritated skin.

"I hope you don't bruise!" You say worriedly. Lifting yourself up on your arm and leaning over him to get a better look.

Billy chuckles and looks up at you, resting his hand on your cheek.

"I hope I do. A bruise necklace from you? Now that's a beautiful gift."

He pulls you back against him, your head on his chest hearing his heartbeat in your ears. Little does he know that to you.

This is the most beautiful gift.

To be added to taglists please see HERE

[seriouslysnape]

A Caring Angel

Remus Lupin x Fem! Reader Tags: Sick Remus. Emetephobia (it's only referenced but it made me anxious so read with care). Post-full moon Remus. Word Count: 2.0k “I’m just glad you’re feeling better.”

⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ 

He found himself waking up to the sound of an angel.

Its voice was so light, airy, and calm that he almost could’ve been lulled back to sleep by it. It brought a warmth to his chest that spread across to his arms and down to his legs. It made him feel comforted…it made him feel at peace. 

When his eyes first opened, he was met with a glow of light surrounding the individual that had brought him out of his slumber. It was the halo, he assumed, and it was so bright that it was nearly blinding.

Confusion began to set in. What was an angel doing here? He recognized his bed beneath him…the smell of lavender from the candles on the dresser. He knew he was home, so what was an angelic figure doing here? Was he about to be swept away into the afterlife?

“There you are,” The voice said, and he felt a hand on his shoulder that was shaking him gently. “It’s me, my love.” 

He recognized the voice then, and he realized that it wasn’t an angel…not technically. But frankly, he couldn’t quite see the difference between an angel and you. When his eyes finally focused, he realized that the “halo” was actually just the sun beaming in through the bedroom window. It spilled past the curtains and painted you with sunlight, making you glow and shine more than you usually did.

He watched you press the back of your hand to his forehead, moving from his temple to the center. A concerned, yet concentrated, look crossed over your features as you felt his skin. He didn’t feel overly warm, which made you feel better to know that the fever must have finally broken. Your hand retreated from his head, your palm resting on his midriff and caressing him through the covers of the bed that he was snuggled in. 

He felt relieved to know that it wasn’t dead, and that it was just you waking him up gently. However, that didn’t help his confusion because this wasn’t the norm. 

“Can you hear me, Rem?” You asked with the sweetest, most nurturing tone you could produce.

Your expression was neutral, and you had a small, genuine smile on your face. But he could tell you were worried sick – your eyes said it all. 

“Yeah.” He nodded, noting how dry his mouth and throat were. 

You caught the croak in his voice and reached for the glass of water you had ready to go for him on the nightstand. He needed some assistance with sitting up, which only made him even more confused as to what was happening. As a matter of fact, he didn’t even know what day it was or even what time it was. He would never complain about you doting over him…but he didn’t like seeing you so anxious.

He practically snatched the glass from you, gulping down the glass of water like it was the only thing keeping him alive. He drained the glass, sighing at the feeling of the cool water settling in his system to replenish him. 

“I tried to keep you hydrated, but you just couldn’t keep anything down,” You said, reaching for a waste bin you had nearby and setting it next to him. “Just in case you feel like you’ll be sick again.”

Remus wasn’t even aware he had been sick. He didn’t remember being sick. Obviously whatever was going on and whatever had happened – he didn’t remember any of it, and it was shaking you up.

That was when he noticed the array on his bedside table. A pitcher of water, empty potion vials, damp wash rags. Clearly, it had been one rough wave of sickness.

When he didn’t respond, you went on.

“How are you, Rem?” You asked with the sweetest, most nurturing tone you could produce.

His muscles were aching something awful. They felt like they were on fire when he shifted on the mattress – his core burning as he tried to get comfortable again. He tried to piece everything together…but none of it was making sense or ringing any bells.

“Lousy,” He groaned. “I feel sore.”

“I’m sorry,” You pressed a sympathetic kiss to his forehead. “I can’t say I’m surprised. You were all tensed up.”

A blank expression covered the man’s face. The lost look in his eyes was a telltale sign that he had absolutely no idea what you were talking about. The last thing he remembered was going to bed Friday night…and the next thing he knew he was being woken up by you. It must’ve been Saturday morning by now.

“Was…I sick last night?” He asked, swallowing hard.

“Rem, you’ve been sick the last few days. It’s Tuesday,” You said, and Remus’ heart dropped into his stomach. “You don’t remember?”

He blinked in surprise. He had been sick for three days and had no knowledge of it? Not a single stitch of memory of the last few days? 

“No,” He managed to give a small chuckle, despite the pounding in his chest. “I’ve been trying to figure it out.”

He regretted telling you that the moment he said it. The way your face fell and filled with even more anxiety made his heart hurt. He wasn’t sure what he had said or done in the last few days to shake you up so bad.

“Oh, Rem. You’ve been so sick the last few days,” You said. “It came out of nowhere. You seemed okay, but then I woke up during the night and you were sweating and shaking."

Remus was listening to every word. He was finally beginning to make sense of what you were saying…of what actually happened. 

 “The fever was really beginning to scare me, but it finally broke early this morning.” You said. “I thought maybe it was the flu but-” Your pause was sharp.

 It was so quick that he knew it was you refraining from saying what you were thinking. You didn’t even have to say it for Remus to know what you were thinking though…because he was thinking it too.

“It was the moon.” He stated.

You held your lip slightly between your teeth, chewing on it as your brain scrambled for something to say. What could you say? How could you verbally admit that Remus couldn’t handle the full moons as well as he used to?

Over the last year or so, full moons had been doing a number on Remus. He had always said that every full moon was different…some full moons were worse than others. But lately, the recovery time for every full moon was longer and tougher…with some even worse side effects. 

This wasn’t the first time that Remus had acquired some mild fatigue and an overall crummy few days…but this was the first time that the aftermath of a full moon had made him physically and violently sick – and left him with no memory of it. 

“It’s just one of those things,” Remus reminded you. “Full moons get harder and harder the older I get. That’s just how it is.”

“I don’t like seeing you struggle like that.” You pressed your hand to his forehead again, relieved that he still felt normal.

Remus knew that the aftermath of a full moon was hard on you because of what it did to him. He was irritable, in pain, completely overstimulated. It made him a man that wasn’t really Remus. It turned him into someone he did not like.

“I know, darling.” He said, taking that same hand into his and stroking his thumb across the back of your hand. “I didn’t say or do anything mean to you, did I?” He asked.

“Not at all, honey. You could barely form any kind of sentence,” You said, reaching for the water pitcher on the bedside table to refill his water glass. “When you did speak, it was all gibberish.” 

It was true. Remus was so delirious and fever-ridden that he wasn’t processing or forming anything correctly. It was three days of Remus being completely lost to the world and fighting off whatever illness the moon had bestowed upon him. 

Remus sipped on the next glass of water, nursing it instead of gulping it down. He was taking the time to actually think about all of this and process it instead of brushing it off. This obviously had been a pretty bad scare, and it was something he needed to take into consideration.

“You haven’t really eaten anything in days. I can whip up some soup for you,” You said. “Are you feeling well enough to eat?”

Remus’ stomach growled at the thought of one of your homemade soups. He hoped that some nourishment would settle the shakiness in his hands and the lightheadedness he was feeling. 

“You’re an angel, you know that?” He brought your palm to his lips and left a sweet kiss there. “Thank you for taking care of me. I’m sorry for ruining your weekend.”

“Oh, Remus. You didn’t ruin my weekend,” You smiled reassuringly, as you stood from sitting on the edge of the bed. “I’m just glad you’re feeling better.”

Remus followed suit, throwing the covers off and swinging his feet over the side of the bed. Just as his feet hit the floor, you were on him. 

“I’ll bring it to you, lovely. Don’t push yourself.” Your hands cradled his face, his tired eyes shining at you.

“Darling, I haven’t had a shower in days,” He said. “I feel disgusting.”

“You’re going to be weak when you stand,” You said. “I don’t want you to fall.”

“Come with me then,” He grinned, his arm snaking around your waist. “I’ll make it up to you for spoiling the weekend.”

“You actually must be feeling better,” Your cheeks grew warm. “But I’d really feel better if you would just shower and get back to bed.”

He laughed lightly, knowing that it was worth a try. 

“Alright, sweetheart. Whatever you want.” 

He was slow and careful when he stood and he (not surprisingly) discovered that your prediction was correct. All the blood rushed from his head and he felt wobbly on his legs, little spots of black dotting in his vision. 

“Maybe I should go with you,” You said, realizing he was struggling to stand. “Let’s get you freshened up quickly, yeah?”

Remus nodded, realizing just how sick he really had been. It was just something he would have to keep adjusting to, and something he would have to be prepared for. Not every full moon would be this hard on him, but he needed to be prepared as if each one would. 

Remus followed you to the shower, the sound of running water calling his name and offering a sense of relief to him. You helped him out of his T-shirt and sweats, leaving him only long enough to get him a clean set of loungewear. 

Remus felt days of grime and sweat melt off of him when he hit the stream of the water. It refreshed him and cleared his mind…and it gave him a sweet moment with you. 

“Still feeling alright?” You asked, sweeping a strand of wet hair from Remus’ eyes.

His hands were always on you, keeping you close and secure. He pressed a kiss to your neck, your cheek, your nose. He always was grateful for you, but he was always extra grateful after a bad full moon. 

“Yeah, my darling. I’m alright.”

After a shower and a decent meal, Remus knew he would have the fuel to get stronger. He would certainly take it easy for the next few days and have you all over him for every minute of him. You would make him soups and teas and goodies to keep him satisfied and nurtured – providing him with anything he needed to get back feeling right again. 

He would love every second of it, assuring you there was no need to fuss over him. But he knew you would do it anyway because you loved him just that much. 

And for that, he would always be grateful.

[dqllgarden]

can you do ben hargreeves x !PLATONIC child reader. Where they are both siblings and ben literally takes care of her and being overprotective and promises her he’ll adopt her someday and just a cute sibling moment (season 4??) 🥹🥹

safe haven

this is so adorable oh my godddd :,) thank you for the amazing request i was so excited to write this!! i currently have covid so this cheered me up lol

tags: older brother!ben, fluff :)

—

Ben Hargreeves wasn’t known for being overly sentimental, but when it came to you, his younger sibling, he had a side that was both protective and affectionate. The family never really had a calm moment in their lives, but today was a rare moment of normalcy.

You were Ben’s little sister and you spent the majority of your time with him. Today, the two of you were baking cookies while the family was out doing some dangerous yet pointless mission.

You stood on a stool in the kitchen, mixing ingredients and following his instruction. The kitchen was filled with the smell of baking ingredients. Ben was supervising, making sure everything went smoothly.

—

“Alright, the cookies are almost ready,” Ben said, checking the oven. “Let’s get them out.”

You were excited and took the oven mitts from Ben, excited to take the cookies out of the oven yourself. “I can do it!”

Ben hesitated but nodded, handing you the mitts. “Just be careful. The oven is really hot.”

With determination, you opened the oven door and reached inside. The heat was intense, and as you pulled out the tray, your hand slipped slightly, causing you to brush against the edge of the oven. A sharp sting made you yelp, and you quickly pulled your hand back, almost dropping the tray.

Ben’s reaction was immediate. He rushed over, his face full of concern. “Whoa! Let me handle it.”

He took the tray from you, setting it safely on the counter. Then he gently guided you away from the hot oven. “Are you okay? Did you burn yourself?”

You held up your hand, which was red and starting to feel sore. “I think I did. It hurts a bit.”

Ben’s expression softened with worry. “Let’s get some cold water on it. It’ll help with the pain.”

He led you to the sink, where he ran cool water over your hand, his touch gentle and careful. “I’m sorry I didn’t stop you. I just wanted you to feel like you could help.”

“It’s okay,” you said, trying to smile through the discomfort. “I wanted to do it. I should have been more careful.”

Ben dried your hand with a towel and gave you a reassuring smile. “Well, you did a great job with the cookies, despite the little mishap. I’m proud of you”

He carefully placed the cookies on a cooling rack, then fetched two plates and sat them at the kitchen table. Ben watched you with a smile, clearly relieved that you were okay.

“I’m so glad you’re my brother, Ben. I love you so much!”

You were unaware of most everything that occurred. Ben protected you from the evil of the world and the family and he was relived to know you felt safe with him. What Ben didn’t know is you knew things in the family were rough and it was taking a toll on you.

You finished your cookies, feeling content and safe. Ben’s protective nature might have seemed overbearing at times, but in moments like these, it was a reminder of how much he cared.

As you both cleaned up, Ben ruffled your hair gently. “Next time, let me handle the hot stuff, okay?”

You nodded, smiling up at him. “Okay, thanks for taking care of me, Ben.”

He took a deep breath. “One day we won’t have to be here anymore, okay?” Ben looked at you with eyes of sadness and hope. “One day I’ll adopt you and we can have days like this all the time. No more living in danger or fighting with the family, just you and I.”

“I’d really like that,” you leaned into him and hugged him tightly, his arms wrapping you up and giving you both the sense of security you searched for your entire lives.

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

Arrival ❤️

Summary; Heavily pregnant reader waiting to give birth, anxious, overprotective Eddie and Kit excited to be a big brother to his baby sister a few days before your due date.

Warnings; So much fluff, Dad! Eddie, anxious, overprotective Eddie, more fluff. Minors dni

Part Two to Family

💕

If you enjoyed this pls consider liking, reblogging, etc.💕

I don't give anyone permission to copy, repost or reuse my work.

🌸💕

It had been two and a half years since you and Eddie had confessed your love and exciting things were happening.

The two of you had just married last year in a beautiful intimate ceremony with only your close friends and family in attendance.

A little after your wedding you had found out you were pregnant and no one was more excited than Eddie at the prospect of having a little one in the house.

There was exactly three days to go until baby girl Munson was here. Your due date was fast approaching and your boys were displaying different emotions now the time was drawing closer.

Eddie who had been uber-protective the whole pregnancy was even more so as the days ticked down, he was an anxious daddy-to-be and was impatient to see his baby girl.

Kit was equally as impatient as his dad but very excited too, he began talking about what he could do for the baby and it was very sweet watching him grow even more excited at the thought of being a big brother.

"Can she come out yet mama?" he whines and Eddie nods along with his son. It warmed your heart when Kit called you mama, you loved him and Eddie made it clear that he adored it too.

When it first started happening you thought your heart would burst, it happened so naturally and now he said it all the time.

"She's comfy in there clearly, but it's just a few more days until she makes her grand entrance into the world. Unless I go past my due date" you tell Kit and he pouts.

So does Eddie.

"Princess, I wanna meet our angel" he whines and you squeeze his hand while Kit gently rests his head on your belly and talks to his little sister.

She's full of energy today, kicking happily when she hears your voice, Eddie or Kit, she loves when the two of them play the guitar for her.

As Kit is talking to his little sister you feel a twinge of pain and wince. Eddie strokes your hair.

"You okay sweetheart?" you nod and just as you relax the pain comes again and it lasts a few seconds longer.

"Eddie, something is happening" You hisper and his eyes go wide.

"Shit! Are you in labour?" it's possible and you get up ruffling Kit's hair he looks worried.

"Is the baby coming mama?" you are about to speak when it hurts again.

"I think so baby, I don't think we have to rush yet" Eddie kisses your hair.

"I'll get the bag ready and phone Wayne just in case princess" you agree with this and as the hour passes the twinges get a little more intense.

Eddie has the bag all set up and Wayne is coming around soon, the three of you watch a movie and it isn't until you get up to get some hot chocolate that things ramp up.

"Baby, sit down I'll get you more hot chocolate" You smile and tell him to sit with Kit.

"I'm fine Eddie, I can get it" Just as you get into the kitchen you feel wetness trickle down your legs. There's a puddle of water on the floor.

"Eddie! My waters have broke!" The calmness you felt before gives way to anxiety and the prospect of giving birth.

Of course, you thought about it a lot leading up to this but you were trying to focus more on enjoying your pregnancy (the three weeks of bad morning sickness not so much)

"It's okay princess. Stay calm. Everything is going to be fine, I'll be with you every step of the way" he assures you and Kit who hates seeing you in pain.

"Mama will you be okay?" you nod breathing slowly.

"I'll be fine honey, don't worry okay?" Wayne arrives fussing over you but you reassure him all is fine.

"I know Kit will be worried but please try and get him to stick to his bedtime as much as possible, you know how much he loves to watch Disney movies so maybe put that on after his bed"

Wayne grins. "Darling we will be fine. You just focus on being calm and go have that baby yeah? Can't wait to meet her" You return Wayne's smile and and kiss Kit on the cheek, hugging him tightly.

It's not often you and Eddie are both away from him, maybe for date night or when he stays the night at Wayne's or Steve and Nancy's but it's not possibly days away.

Eddie is next for the cuddles and you struggle to hide your tears, when you are outside Eddie kisses your forehead.

"He will be fine princess" you let his words sink in and squeeze his hand as another contraction hits.

Better get moving.

💕💕

The drive to the hospital was a fast one, Eddie had a few choice curse words for some of the very slow drivers.

All the while you battled your contractions which had gone from not too bad on the pain scale to hurting like a bitch.

Once you got into the hospital and into a room everything felt more real and you were anxious as hell but couldnt wait to meet your little girl.

Eddie wouldn't leave your side and did anything to help you feel comfortable. Whatever you wanted he got and you did your best to stay as calm as possible.

You read a little and Eddie put on your favourite movie and the hours seemed to tick by slowly.

As time past your contractions became closer and closer together and your doctor was telling you it was time for the baby to come.

"Well Mrs Munson, looks like your baby girl is coming fast" Your grip on Eddie's hand tightens and he smooths your hair away from your face.

"You got this princess, you're badass and amazing and beautiful and this baby is going to be the luckiest little girl ever" his words make you tear up but you're quickly distracted as Doctor Green tells you to push.

It feels like hours as you push, the pain has you gripping onto Eddie's hand for dear life, not once does he wince or complain, he just strokes your hair and cheers you on.

"Come on sweetheart, one more push, just one more. You can do this" he urges and with all your strength you push one last time, a piercing cry fills the air and there is your little angel.

Eddie is crying, your crying. She's perfect.

Doctor Green takes her away for a moment and Eddie cuts the umbilical cord, gently holding baby girl Munson, he's holding her like she's the most precious thing in the world, she is so precious.

Ever so tenderly he hands her to you and the rush of love you feel is overwhelming, wonderful.

"Hi baby, I'm your mama" Eddie holds out his pinky finger and she latches onto it with her tiny hand and it melts your heart.

Eddie's eyes fill with love. "Jesus" he sobs as he looks at her in awe then he looks up at you.

"I love you so much, princess" You stroke his cheek and kiss him softly.

"I love you too Eddie" he's beaming with happiness.

"She's an angel, let's have another one sweetheart" this makes you giggle.

"Definitely in a couple of years stud" he looks delighted at this and holds you close to him as you both stare at your little bundle of joy.

💕

Eddie was in love, he had his little princess in his arms while you rested and he was so full of love for you, little Willow and Kit.

His family, his beautiful family that he couldn't believe he had, sometimes he had to pinch himself at how much of a lucky bastard he was.

You had been at home for over a week now with Willow and she was doted on by everyone. Kit was taking his big brother role very, very seriously and rarely left your side or Willows.

Pretty much like Eddie himself who was very protective of his girls.

Willow moves around for a second, her face scrunching up for a second as a soft cry escapes her lips, he rocks her gently and she quietens, her lips forming an oh shape as she sleeps soundly.

He sings to her, a lullaby his mother and Uncle Wayne sang to him when he was little.

He wishes his mother was still alive, and wonders what she would think of Willow, of you, she would love you both he has no doubt.

Your arms slip around his waist and he smiles at you, his heart bursting with love.

"Get some rest sweetheart. I've got her" You settle beside him.

"Wanted to hear you sing" this makes him smile and he carries on singing, eventually Willow is lulled into a deep sleep and he places her in her crib.

You're dozing too and the sight is so fucking cute, he guides you back into bed, curls up beside you and wraps his arms around you as you fall asleep on his chest.

His last thoughts are of you, Kit and Willow before he falls into a deep slumber himself

❤️

[yakumtsaki]

Oh yay, our first thunder fire in the new house, wonder how long before someone dies again! Also love how you can see our old house in the background, a reminder you can run from your past but you can’t escape it. 

I am of course talking about this family’s past of semi-acceptable interactions between family numbers, because from now on is where things really go off the rails in this department. Allow me to introduce you to..

..Julian and Stacy’s daughter, Sunset Tinker-Union! (Because her parents wear pink and purple, get it? Get the name origin?) So the minute Bartholomew brought Sunset from school I knew it was over for me, as we’re now far enough removed from the other branches of the family tree that not even the extended family mod can save us from all those third cousins being fair game.. and you all know full well that if there’s one thing this family knows how to do, is be attracted to their distant cousins-

-I held out to one tiny hope that maybe Barflina will continue being socially incompetent losers and Sunset will hate them, but no, the minute a distant cousin enters the building it’s clearly time to turn up the charm. So first Bartholomew goes and smustles with Sunset, which, Barth, I didn’t know you were even like, biologically capable of having fun in any way-

-and then Felina (who I keep forgetting is SHY LOL WHAT) goes over to ADMIRE HER. BRO. I have never seen Felina do anything remotely nice her entire life, KILL ME.

But don’t worry, Sunset clearly takes after auntie June! She’s into it! She follows Barth to the toilet for no clear reason! WHY IS THIS HAPPENING TO ME

So you at this point you might be like ya ok, calm your tits, there’s no guarantee anything will even happen. To which I reply go back and read, not even the whole thing, just our college runs, and then get back to me. We’ve been knocking on semi-incest’s door since generation 1 and now we don’t even have to knock, I mean the door is wide open! FML

ANYWAY, all this to say, it’s time to extremely focus on finding these two flops non-related-to-us people to date before we fuck off to college, and this is ALL I’m gonna be doing this update- 

-Like haha oh man Cyn and Sandy are starting a rock band, there’s def jokes here, NO. NO TIME, DON’T CARE, HAVE TO AVERT DISASTER.

-Failina, hold your goddamn notebook closer so I can copy, it’s hard with my eyepatch! -It’ll be even harder when I take your other eye out!

Alright you two.. uh.. awesome kids, let’s go out! 

-Go out where. -And WHY.

So you can have fun, meet people, maybe sing some karaoke or play bowling! You’ve seen how much fun your ancestors have had as teens out and about, driving drunk, being hoes, committing various crimes, you wanna miss out on that experience? It’s even how grandma Shajar met grandma Sophie and that marriage could not be stronger!

-Ugh ok, I guess I do need to get started on the spouse hunt. -And I would like to get drunk in a different setting than our library.

Perfect! Who knows, by the end of the night, you might even be besties singing duets like Jojo and Gunther!

Oh my- WE LITERALLY JUST GOT HERE. WHAT CAN YOU TWO POSSIBLY BE FIGHTING ABOUT

-SCREW YOU, DAVID OTTOMAS IS MINE -NO, HE’S MINE, HE’S THE ONLY TEEN SIM IN THE LOT AND I HAVE SENIORITY -THE HELL YOU DO

OK LET’S GO HOME

-SCREW YOU, I WANNA OPEN THE GARAGE DOOR -THE DOOR IS MINE, YOU CAN’T EVEN DRIVE YET

OMG LITERALLY STOP. I LEARNED MY LESSON, I’M NEVER MAKING YOU INTERACT AGAIN

Once again, I’m crawling back to Lakshmi! Finally she has returned to us! As you might recall I had to deal with her understudy, Margaret, and frankly she was better than Lak at her job but it just wasn’t the same. Lakshmi and I have HISTORY. We have a deep, dark, beautiful relationship-

-I’m not giving you a discount. 

UGH FINE. Take 5k of our last money (I forgot to mention the new house somehow cost 500K, we legit have like 20k left)-

-and hit us with your best shot!

-Oh, I will! 

Ok but you’ve said that before and I’m still not over the time I paid you 5k for June and you gave us iVan. 

-No, this time I mean it! The path is clear! 

The ‘path is clear’?? The path for FELINA’S love life is clearer than it was for June the literal model-hot genius???

-Indeed!

I gotta say, Lakshmi, your mouth better not be writing checks your crystal ball can’t cash.

-It is not, I promise! 

Alright, I’m waiting, do it to us-

OH

MY

GOD

IT’S MEADOW

THEY HAVE 3 BOLTS THIS IS ALREADY HILARIOUS. LAKSHMI YOU ARE FORGIVEN FOR ALL THE SHIT YOU’VE EVER PULLED ON ME

Bro this pairing is KILLING ME. Like I get it on paper since they’re both family sims and I guess their chemistry panels and zodiacs must insanely match too, but I thought Felina would get with someone like idk. Gvaudoin? Alegra Gorey? Klara Vonderstein? Maybe the Diva or a vamp NPC? Like you know what I mean, someone that makes sense with the whole dark queen powerful dynasty blabla she has going on. But no, she’s gonna start this house Lannister bs her LTW is about with.. MEADOW THAYER. I love it so much, Felina please don’t ruin this for us!

FELINA WTF DID I JUST SAY

-Sorry, but I don’t know you well enough to accept you touching my shoulder, huhu!🌞

-But if you want to tickle me again, that’s somehow more acceptable to me despite it involving way more touching!🌞

Alright, as I suspected, not a lot going on upstairs with dear Meadow, but it’s ok, I’m just glad to have a huhuing sim around again, Cyn is like 80yo :(

Ah, the tickling of love! Good job, Fel, now we can work our way up to flirting-

-Or I can just not be a turbocuck AND GO FOR IT

Man, the Sophie genes kicked in! Good for you, Fel!

Backyard karaoke time! Seriously what song could these two possibly BOTH like, please comment or msg me your guesses. 

So at this point I’m already 100% sold on Meadow as a spouse as I don’t think it’s humanly possible to come up with a funnier pairing than what fate dropped in my lap, but I’d also like to point out that Felina is so into Meadow that she’s already rolling fears of falling out of love with her, despite not even BEING IN LOVE WITH HER YET. Family sims are a fucking trip. 

CUTE. Alright Felina, you’re set, we got it in one, semi-incest avoided, yay us. Now I’m gonna leave you to your dream date and focus on Barth-

-who is gambling by himself. Guess I don’t need to ask who’s drunk again!

-That’s one safe bet, haha! 

Good Lord. Alright, get up, let’s find you someone while Lakshmi is still here, I’m sure our amazing luck will continue-

-OH FUCK IT’S TIAVE TEENS, HE HAS THE DON BROKEN FACE THING. ABORT ABORT

Oh good there’s nothing to abort, because it turns out Bartholomew is a COMPLETE FAILURE OF A ROMANCE SIM. Observe and keep in mind THEY HAVE 3 BOLTS:

-LALALA LALALA NOT LISTENING TO YOU INSULT MY SPATULA, FUCK OFF

LOL NO @ THE NOOGIES RETURN. FUCK. So clearly Felina has grandma Sophie’s chadly genes and Bartholomew has grandma Shajar’s noogiesexuality, except he’s a romance sim with a 20 woohoo LTW. College with this guy is gonna be UNBEARABLE. 

Alright, Barth, let’s try this again, don’t be discouraged! Ignore our lack of cash!

Ignore that Felina got it right on the first try and is still on her endless dream date!

PATRICK TEENS?! LMAO. Bartholomew is so committed to going through family trees, like if it’s not gonna be his own it’s gonna be SOMEONE’S, he doesn’t care! Unlike Don-clone Tiave, Patrick is cute tho, let’s give it a try-

-Ya, let me stop you right there, buddy, not into it but best of luck in your future endeavors!

Bruh. Let’s extremely call it a night, Barth.

-Oh hi, huhu!🌸 -Hi hi, huhu!🌞 -I feel like I know you?💗

Ya Cyn, if I didn’t have photographic proof that it’s not true I’d legit think she’s your long lost daughter. Man ACTUALLY how much sense does it make that like people tend to seek out partners that remind them of their parents and Cyn was always such a maternal influence on Felina??? Holy hell this game has so many layers. 

Clearly inspired by seeing her younger self in Meadow, Cyn finally finds it in her to woohoo again after Don’s passing! It’s legitimately crazy to me how loyal she was to him in death, like I can’t get over it, she never extended that courtesy to him while he was alive!

-𝚁𝙴𝚂𝚃𝙰𝚁𝚃 𝙼𝚈 𝙵𝙸𝚁𝙴.𝙴𝚇𝙴

It’s ok, Barth, you sleep off the romantic flopping and that tray of whiskeys and we’ll try again tomorrow.

-Ya, make sure to call us over when he ‘tries again tomorrow’ cause we don’t wanna miss it HAHA -HAHAHA boy did I screw him over by passing down my personality points! -You sure did, my little turbocuck! Let’s sleep in the same bed tonight, I can’t get into this one anyway with this flop sleeping there! -That’s what everyone is gonna be saying to him in college HAHAHA -HAHAHAHA oh Shaj, I love you, let’s work on our marriage! -I love you too, we’ll overcome our issues!

Awww, see Barth? Love wins❤️

[willshipanything-blog]

Breaking the Rules- Chapter 17

So, my goal was to finish this by last week... 👀 but, this is a mega bumper chapter sitting at 7500 words, so hopefully the wait was worth it!

If I could summarise this chapter in three words, all three would be 'rage', if that's any indication.

As usual, warning tags apply, so minors DNI!

Full tags, as well as the fic if you prefer, is on AO3 here.

Full tumblr chapter index can be found here.

Enjoy lovelies! ✌️✨💜

Chapter 17- Temper Temper

Both you and Max had swiveled your heads towards the sound of Al’s incensed knocking, watching the door dumbly as if it might open of its own accord. Or, more likely, as if it might be flung off its hinges and come crashing down under Al’s raging fists. 

Max whirled towards you, the soft expression now vanished as his eyes flitted wildly to yours. Each of you stared silently at the other, the backdrop of curses and banging and Samson’s defensive barking almost lost as you looked into those huge brown pools brimming with worry. You attempted to set your face into a calm expression to offset Max’s distress, even though each pound on the door made you jump a little in your skin. Each dull thump on the wood akin to the van doors slamming shut, with you in the back, unable to escape- but no: you needed to keep that image away, lest you tempt fate and invite that monster back into your life. Things were ok. It wasn’t the Grabber at the door like some ominous reaper of death. It was Al. Angry as he was, he was still the man you loved. 

“What the fuck is going on, Y/N?” 

“He’s- he’s just worried I left, that’s all. I didn’t tell him I was coming, and with me laying low, he gets upset when he doesn’t hear from me.” Not technically a lie, but fresh from your recent confessions, the concealment of the entire truth- however necessary- tasted bitter on your tongue. 

The worry on Max’s brow appeared to wane just a little at your excuse, though he looked far from placated. He clearly wasn’t fully convinced that things were ok, and perhaps with the rageful presence at his own front door, snarling your name through the wood, Max wouldn't be convinced that you were indeed as safe as you had assured him. He didn’t know you could handle that flaring temper of Al’s. In fact, Al had never exerted it like this in front of his brother before. The one time Al had enacted such violence around Max was to retaliate against his father’s abuse- and Al had ensured Max was far away from that brawl when he’d struck back. You’d do the same now- keep Max away from any hint, any idea of a monster thrumming under Al’s skin. That deep, black well that held the possibility of so much hatred and violence and rage. You and Al might drown in it, eventually- but you couldn’t let Max so much as dip a toe in those waters. 

You hissed Samson’s name, whose eyes and teeth had been firmly locked on the threat behind the door, but he reluctantly obeyed and padded to you, where you held him tightly to your body. A comfort for him or yourself, you weren’t sure, but it placated the giant dog as the pounding and rattling outside continued. A tall silhouette behind the gauzy yellow curtains (Al trying to glimpse through the windows) had you thankful that Max hadn’t yet opened them. However, you were less thankful when Max gave a discontented sigh and mumbled that he was ‘gonna get to the bottom of this’ as he inched towards the door. 

“Max!” you let out a desperate whisper which he ignored, still aiming for the door. Even Max had reached his limit, and his usual courtesy had been eclipsed by a determination to confront Al about this situation. You released Samson and leaped across the room as Max’s hand gripped the doorknob, your own sweaty palm landing atop his. He froze, wide-eyed at you as you continued your pleading:

“Please, Max. Don’t do this. We don’t need to make this a bigger deal,” his hand shifted beneath yours, but you held firm, your eyes burning into his, and he stilled. It was quiet then, and you realized the thunderous knocking on the door had stopped. Al was still outside- you could sense it all too easily- and you wondered how much of the inside conversation he could hear. Whether he was holding a matching anticipatory breath to his brother, just on the other side of the door.

“Please,” you continued, your voice cracking as you looked into those innocent chocolate eyes “You know I’m keeping secrets from you. You have your own secrets you don’t wish to tell,” you cringed inside at the thought of using Max’s private preferences in such an insidious, almost threatening way, but swallowed the bile in your throat and persevered “And Al is keeping things from everyone. Can we just let things go back to how they were before, for everyone’s sake? Let me take care of all of…this,” you motioned with your head to the door, to the man you both knew still stood behind it. 

It was a toxic circle of secrets, though they weren’t equivalent; yours outweighed Max’s by a hefty margin, and Al’s were so heavy, so incalculable it was dizzying to think about. You hated how you’d lumped them together like this, all for the sake of self-preservation and protection. Max’s secret wasn’t illegal, or shameful, or wrong- but if he didn’t want to confess everything to Al and to the world, if the thought of judgment or fear of openness made him wary of confessing who he was, maybe at least he’d understand a little of your pleas to let things lie. 

Your other hand grasped Max’s forearm; a beseeching squeeze of your clasping fingers and a final imploring look from you had him nodding his head slowly in consenting (but clearly uncomfortable) acquiescence. You followed his silent gesture to step back as Max opened the door. The security chain allowed it to open just a few inches, enough for Max to face his brother, but from where you stood in the room, you could only hear that low growl speak to Max.

“Let me in.” His fists might have stopped pounding, but that voice still held a cold flame of anger, and you pictured those same fists balled at his sides, the taut muscles in his forearms ready to knock down the door if need be. Knock down the whole house perhaps, if the wolf was denied entry.

“Al, you need to take a breath, man.”

“I just wanna talk to her.”

“Sure doesn’t sound like you ‘just wanna talk’ to me.”

A silence between the brothers, save for the few heaving breaths you heard from outside- the aftermath of Al’s frantic bout with the door. You didn’t see the silent look Al and Max shared, and almost thought Max had refused Al when the door clicked shut. But Max slid the chain and reopened it. Apparently that charm of Al’s, that persuasive allure, extended to his brother as well as you.

Al’s body hung in the threshold for just a moment before he strode into the room towards you. You couldn’t say whether it took a split second or a long while, couldn’t count it in seconds or breaths, not when you were holding yours. He reached out, his hands gripping your upper arms as if to shake some sense into you. But he didn’t. The grip was neither a comforting hold nor a disciplining hand. A little rough, but it was that protective, possessive, even obsessive touch that was undeniably Al. He simply held you still, as if making sure you were real, hadn’t run away and disappeared forever from him. You weren’t at home, but you were still here with him, and his eyes softened a fraction at that realization. 

The rage had been left at the doorstep it seemed, worry now clouding those blue eyes as he looked you over. Worry- as if the emotional hurt he’d inflicted might have created a real scar upon your body. That thought made you shudder; if emotional anguish created real wounds, your skin would be littered in more marks than any physical assault had ever caused. The remembrance of why you’d run- the lies heaped on more lies, the pushing back of imaginary concerns, only for them to push back as real, undeniable truths. Your conversation with Max had doused your anger with guilt, but Al’s presence served only to rekindle that raging emotion again. Whatever fury Al had left at the door had seemingly floated over and been imbued into you. You shrugged out of Al’s grip with a disgusted scoff.

“What the hell was that, Y/N?”

“I just needed some time away from the house. And from you,” you spat.

“You didn’t need to leave. I thought you’d gone…” Al paused, unable to finish that sentence. Was it the thought of you leaving, or him being caught that upset him more?

“I can leave when I like, Al. I’m not your prisoner a-” you barely stopped yourself from adding ‘anymore’ to the end of that phrase. But Al jerked at your words, knowing that you could have. Not like he could have argued against that indisputable fact. He gave a sidelong glance to his brother, and your own eyes tracked that invisible trail. Both of you wondering whether Max had picked up on your verbal faux pas, had deduced where the tail end of your retort might have led. He stood awkwardly near the door, not wanting to interject in your argument, but not making to leave after bearing witness to that fury his brother possessed. A small twitch of his brows; could you see the cogs whirring in his head, trying to unstick themselves, piece together the scene before him? 

“And you,” Al pointed a finger towards Max, the sudden accusatory words and gesture  breaking any concentration that might have had Max coming closer to a reasonable answer. “Why didn’t you call when she got here?”

“I didn’t realize Scout needed a permission slip to visit a friend,” Max snapped, surprising you at the brusqueness of the reply (and seemingly himself, based on the way he stepped back just a fraction, as if he hadn’t meant to sound so argumentative). “She was upset, and I was just trying to cheer her up.”

Without an immediate retort, Al surveyed the small living room, gaze lingering on the coffee table where a couple of beer cans and a half-full ashtray lay strewn atop it. Clearly, where Max hadn’t yet cleared up from the previous night.

“Cheer her up with drinking? Jesus, Max, it’s barely past noon! I suppose I might have to start worrying about drugs too now, huh?”

Nope. That was too far. You didn’t care how pissed off Al was with you, with your actions- even mentioning that old vice of Max’s (one he’d fought hard to overcome), was NOT going to be a valid argument for Al to try and project his own faults and frustrations on. Your own voice could ignite a similar flare of icy wrath as Al’s, and you let him have it. Not even for your own defense, but for him daring to stoop so low as to bring Max’s prior shortcomings into this argument.

“Leave. Him. Alone.” 

Al whipped his head back to you, to the seething, roiling words that you spoke. He could drag you into this argument, like how he’d already dragged you into the madness of this relationship. For your part, you’d allowed yourself to be hauled to that blissful underworld, freely swam to those depths of your own volition- but you would make Max no part of this. You looked at the younger Shaw brother, that earnest worry and innocence helping soften your anger as you asked him to give you and Al the room, for just a little while. He’d nodded, making some excuse to take Samson into the backyard, leaving after a long look at Al. A plea, perhaps. Or maybe a warning. 

There wasn’t enough room in the cramped space for you to be nearly as distant from Al as you wanted. He’d left a gap between your bodies, but still you had to incline your head to look into those eyes. For once, you were struggling to pinpoint the exact emotion in that look, and wondered whether Al, looking down at you, felt the same. Even you didn’t quite know how to feel- still enraged by the lies, remorseful for your abrupt departure, guilty for saddling Max with this. You stayed silent, letting Al dictate the next move. 

“We’re going home.”

“Which home is that, Al? You have two of them.”

Al’s eyes widened, a brow crooked in surprise at the flagrant mention of that second address. Was your defiance really so unexpected? Did he think, after all this, that you’d still be his good girl? That he’d command you to jump, and you’d ask how high in a fraction of a heartbeat? Perhaps Al could sense, through that invisible bond that tethered you both together, that your temerity wouldn’t waver, wouldn’t break down through his attempts at placation. But if placation wouldn’t work, he always had his old tricks up his sleeve. Al eyed a cursory glance towards the door through which Max had left. Satisfied his brother wasn’t around, he leaned in close to you, whispering in an insidious rasp:

“I am taking you home. Right. Now. You can choose whether you go in the front or the back of that van.”

You snorted at Al’s audacity to try and manipulate you- with images that he knew had caused you so much anxiety the last time you’d ridden in the black van. You’d hoped the snort sounded like an incredulous huff of laughter, but a part of you knew your effrontery was masking a small flash of fear that had bolted through you at those threatening words, the purposefully menacing, slow gestures and low rumble of breath as Al spoke them. You’d barely huffed out that dismissive breath before a hand shot out, encircling tightly around your wrist as he spoke once more.

“I don’t remember telling a joke.”

“So that’s it? If I say no, you’re gonna drag me into the back kicking and screaming?”

“Don’t tempt me, dove.” 

You froze as the grip around your wrist tightened. The lilting intonation had returned to Al’s voice, your stupefied body capable of nothing except staring into the cold blue of his eyes, almost manifesting a shadowy pair of devil horns atop his head, a phantom of a wide, false smile ghosting over his gritted teeth. 

It was one thing for the memory of the Grabber to remain lurking in the shadows, but for Al himself to allude to those past actions? He was usually the one veering your own worried thoughts far away from any trace of that beast. The Grabber had lain dormant for months, but you supposed even volcanoes could stay inert for years before erupting. And Al had put you in the van before- would he do it again? You didn’t think so, though his mad glare contradicted that belief, eyes darkening with building rage as his eyes lowered to where he was gripping you-

Al recoiled at the touch between you both, his hand loosening around your wrist, eyeing the livid red mark he’d imprinted on your skin with a look of horror. An incoherent apology was lost in a choke; his voice too broken to speak. Here was a man who had forgotten his own bestial strength, who had been unable to hide the bared fangs and claws when provoked. But his tail was now firmly between his legs at the realization of his mistake. That moment of clarity, the realization of what had briefly surfaced within him, and how it might have hurt you. It had plastered a lost, forlorn look on his face.

One half of you was still livid at the deceit, at Al’s irrational anger. But the other half of you understood the mess of emotions inside this man, who, even now, couldn’t ever define the Grabber as a past life, when he struggled so greatly suppressing that demon inside him.

Wavering between rage and sympathy, a lingering look at Al’s rueful expression gave way to the latter feeling. 

It was time to go. What else could you do, apart from go with him? His home was your home too now. You’d accede to his request, but you were going to make it clear this argument was far from over, waiting for you both at the threshold of your own front door instead of Max’s.

“Al,” you grunted, yanking your arm free from his hold, his empty limb still hovering in the air as if not realizing it was no longer being used to grab you. “I’ll come back. But only because you’re making a scene, and Max doesn’t need to see that. Give me a minute to freshen up.” You didn’t wait for his permittance before turning swiftly and walking towards the bedroom, as if making your way to the attached bathroom within. You didn’t need to use it, but needed a moment to even your breathing and swallow down some of the rage that would have to hold off, for at least a little while.  

You discerned Max re-entering the living room, heard low tones in hushed voices between the two brothers. Their conversation, muffled as it was, sounded tense. You dared the door open a crack, finding yourself in the midst of their discussion. 

“-fine, everything is fine Max.”

“Yeah? Looks sorta broken to me.”

“Oh, cause you know how to fix everything?” Al’s voice, rough and dangerous as a serrated knife’s edge, was still directing his malice towards Max. You thought about interrupting there and then, but held off a little longer.

“I’m just trying to help.” “About twenty five years too late for that, Max. Surprised you didn’t bolt as soon as you smelled the start of a problem.”

You cringed silently at that cutting remark, another barb Al had thrown at his brother. Max was silent only a moment before speaking. Not trying to argue the point, but steering the conversation back towards you.

“Who else is she gonna talk to, Al? She only has you and me. She calls me if she wants to talk about stuff she can’t with you. If she wants to talk about you two, or about her family, it’s natural she’d come here for-”

“Her family? Her and me? When were these calls?”

You’d heard enough. Max didn’t need the wrath of his brother for deigning to take a phone call from you, for daring to listen to your problems. You stomped from the bedroom, both heads turning at your unsubtle exit. On the other side of the door, you’d imagined Al looming over Max, but a proud feeling blossomed in your chest upon seeing Max squared up to his big brother, mustering that courage for your sake. 

“Al, let’s go.” you said flatly, betraying none of your own blistering anger in front of Max- that was for Al to face soon. Max received a small smile from you in offering, and a murmured promise to call him soon, to let him know that everything was ok. A woeful goodbye, but it would have to do for today. You barged past Al and drifted to the front door and out of it without a backwards glance at whether he was following or not. 

Slamming the passenger side door closed after you climbed into the van, Al followed suit to your left a moment later.  If he looked at you, it went unseen; your back ramrod straight and your eyes locked on the windshield directly in front of you. The disregard was met in equal measure, and Al didn’t speak as the engine stuttered to life and he pulled away from the curb.

You’d only been a willing passenger in the black van once before. That journey had been full of soft words and tender reassurances from Al, who had steered your mind away from the images the van had conjured. He didn’t try the same tactic now, but it was no longer needed- the fury surging through your veins, boiling your blood, had evaporated any trace of worry or fear. Each turn the van took lurched your stomach, churning that anger anew. Each time the van braked, the traffic lights reflected in your vision, you saw red, and that fiery fury stayed lit. You wondered who was angrier: your rage could match Al’s when needed, and the tar-black rage pent up inside of you would be home soon, where it could be unleashed, run rampage. Would it meet Al’s own manifestation of the same emotion? Strong as Al was, it wasn’t like he’d physically fight you. These things always seemed to end in a war of words, and you were equally equipped as him on that front. You found a twisted sort of solace in that thought, and it helped tamp down your anger for the rest of the journey. 

No solace was to be found outside of your own head. No assuring hand reached out across the center console this time. No radio either; just the dead silence stewing between you both, only a staticy tangle of thoughts broadcasting in your mind. You wondered whether Al was experiencing the same angry sentiments as you, though you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of showcasing that curiosity by looking his way. It felt like another game, one you weren’t about to lose by breaking first. You wouldn’t be the first to lose your nerve, not when he was the one in the wrong. Or at least, more wrong than you. 

Al pulled into the driveway, and your stoicism faltered for just a second when you tried the van’s door handle, only to be met with an empty click. The child lock mechanism had your breath catching, but you suppressed a gasp as you waited mutely for Al to come around and open the door. He didn’t rush this time, not fearful of your claustrophobic panicking that brought forth images of your initial kidnapping. Still, he opened the door wordlessly and you hopped down, averting your gaze as you did so. Once again, you walked in front, opening the front door to the house with your own key, not worrying whether Al had fallen in step behind you. Too determined to keep tight hold of the reins of your anger to sneak a glimpse of the house across the street, lest you douse that anger with a deluge of fear and allow Al’s rage to burn more fiercely than your own.  

“You wanna explain to me just what the hell has been going on?” Al had slammed the door behind him before stalking you through the house to the kitchen. You spun, shoes squeaking on the linoleum as you did, to find Al fixed in the doorway, his arms hanging loose by his sides. A relaxed, casual stance considering the loaded question. It only felt a little like entrapment: the basement door lurking in the corner, the kitchen where those games had started out for Al’s sick pleasure, the only escape route blocked by his broad figure in the doorframe. 

Still, you weren’t afraid of those things, and you weren’t going to explain yourself to Al. He was a snake charmer, finding the words to persuade you, make you think a situation wasn’t his fault. You’d seen the trick, his silver tongue no longer convincing you with its distractions and diversions. Charmed no longer, you would bite back, ready to spew back your own venom at his deceit. 

“Do I wanna explain!?” You resisted the urge to cross your arms in frustration, holding them by your sides in a similar gesture of confidence as Al. “All of this has happened because of you.” 

“I just- I can’t believe you left this fucking house. Y’know how reckless that was? I should-”

“Should what, Al? Should lock me up again? If you remember, you were the one who gave me a key. Or was that just to give me the illusion of freedom? Here,” You fished your door key from your front pocket, hurling it at Al’s chest. He caught it as it bounced off his body. “That’s what you want, right? For me to never leave this house again?”

Al’s fist clenched around the small key in his palm, skin so white the jagged teeth of the key might have drawn blood. He exhaled a frustrated huff, snapping the key down on the sideboard beside him before speaking again.

“Dove…” Al said, leaving the tail end of the sentence to linger. You weren’t sure if it would’ve ended with a plea or a warning, but the use of his cute nickname for you enraged you enough to not care. You wanted to snatch that pet name from mid air and snap its damn neck. 

“Don’t ‘dove’ me! Flattery isn’t going to work this time, Al,” Al’s fingers curled a little as they hung by his sides, made tense by your immunity to his attempts at placation as you continued the tirade. “This is all on you. You lied about that house,” Tighter now, and balled fists appeared at his sides, knuckles white with strain. “I haven’t even had time to think why you lied, but the fact that you did it to my face, for weeks-”

“You wanna talk about lies, Y/N? What about that first night you met Max, huh?”

“Tch!” you scoffed disbelievingly at that. “I lied to protect you. I painted such awful stories about my family so I didn’t have to tell your brother how I actually met you. Or would you rather me have told him about the first time I was in that van, hm?” Your own mocking tone had started to imitate Al’s own inflections of speech. 

“But what you’re talking to him about? One wrong step and you could ruin everything!”

“My god, Al! I didn’t tell him about the fucking Grabber. Do you think I’m stupid?”

“Yes- stupid for changing your story.”

“So you’ve berated me for lying to Max, and now you’re doing the same when I’m trying to be honest. You’ve got to pick one, Al- are you upset that I lied, or that I told him some truths?” Al visibly stiffened, his body clamming up at that counter. Because how could he answer such a question, when the whole premise of your argument was built on this twisted logic of contradictory terms? He simply clenched his jaw in silent frustration, his nostrils flaring as he breathed out a heavy sigh. Whether your harsh truths or the tone of your words held Al in suspended silence, you were unsure. But you had his full attention, and you weren’t going to waste it. If he was so concerned with lies, a few home truths would surely be more than welcome.

“Why do you think I talk to Max about things, huh? I can’t keep it all bottled up like you do, or it’s going to suffocate me. Look what not talking did to Max- he was a complete wreck for a long time. And you-” You didn’t need to voice what years of holding in the hurt had done to Al. The flash of sadness in his blue eyes almost had you sympathizing at the mention of that warped evil inside Al, but your indignation was stronger, and you continued.

“You’re not going to take away my voice, or my choices. Not if you want to keep me as yours. Something has to give, Al. Or I might as well be locked in here with that monster. ”

“I don’t want that, little dove. But you need to see-”

“Stop!” Why- why did it always fall on your shoulders to change, to adapt, to see things differently? “I see things just fine, Al. You don’t get to tell me what to do anymore. Or who to talk to. Or where to go.” Maybe you should have finished listing off the examples there, but the vitriol was bleeding from you now, and you weren’t about to cover a wound that so badly needed airing. “I don’t have to eat what you put in front of me, kneeling at your feet. I don’t bathe when you allow it. I don’t fuck you when you demand it of me.”

“Stop saying those things, Y/N,” The icy cool voice should have indicated your mentioning of those past transgressions were affecting Al in the worst ways, but you barely registered it, blinded by the red mist encircling your whole being. Every answer Al gave, each excuse, sounded more and more like accusation, as if you were the one who had done something unforgivable. Maybe a part of him knew that once angered, your own awakened wrath wouldn’t back down. Maybe a part of him wanted- needed- the fight. You’d happily oblige.

“You really have some fucking nerve, you know that? Trying to twist any part of this as my fault, or even thinking back there of blaming your brother. When we know, don’t we, who’s really at fault. Who’s got the biggest character flaw out of the three of us- and it isn’t. Even. Close.”

Again, you’d mimicked Al’s way of speaking, punctuating your final rebuttal with a clipped, acerbic reminder of Al’s monstrous form. You marveled, during your scathing tirade, that Al hadn’t approached you. That he hadn’t gripped you like he had at Max’s, rattling you like a child shaking a broken toy in frustration. That’s what you’d been, after all: a thing for him to toy with, to mold and shape as he wished until you’d learned to love being his plaything. But as much as you loved Al, as much as you obeyed his whims (whether during your games or otherwise), you were done playing nice. 

Al had remained motionless, his hulking figure heaving in the doorway. So at odds with his earlier rage, that silent stance both eerie and infuriating in equal measure, when you craved the fight as much as you knew he did. 

“Really- no answer for me? You’re still lying to me and to yourself, Al. Still hiding,” No response. If he wouldn’t rise to the bait, you’d leave with a snappy retort and a dramatic exit on par with Al’s usual theatrics; your anger would simmer for a long while yet, and you could summon that temper again when Al wanted to have it out with you. “In fact, why don’t I go get one of your masks you can hide behind-”

Your attempt to shove past Al was cut short when a swift arm snaked around your stomach. Al moved preternaturally fast for a man of his size. The strength in that arm pulled you towards him, his shoulder length hair brushing your cheek as he spoke in your ear.

“I don’t think so.” No fear, or trace of remorse; no fissure in his voice. Just a flat, guttural rasp whose coldness threatened to send any icy chill skittering through your veins. But your hot-bloodedness kept that frosty fear at bay, and though you squirmed in Al’s superhuman grip, your rage still dared to fight back with your words.

“Let go. I’m not your kidnapped little victim anymore!”

“Oh yeah?” The flat tone had shifted to a maniacal, almost musical lilt. Since getting home, Al’s emotions had been wavering between silent seething, and genuine inner turmoil at the guilt and shock of acting like the beast who had previously inhabited his body. But that was the final straw, it seemed, and your words and actions had finally reignited the rage that had charged like a bull through Max’s door earlier. His arm encircled tighter whilst his other hand gripped a fistful of your hair. In every scenario you pictured your argument taking, you genuinely believed this to be an impossibility, that this hideous savageness within Al had been tamed for good. A speck, just a speck of it, was allowed to awaken during your games. But not for real. Not to hurt you. 

“You’re fucking crazy!”

Maybe you shouldn’t have said that to somehow you knew was as unstable as Al, where the real crazy had- did?- simmer underneath the skin. You might have just given the crazy a little more gas, allowing it to bubble over and escape. A breathy laugh ghosted your ear as Al picked up your frame, the laugh a melodic thing composed of lunacy and rage, telling you something had snapped inside him. Maybe it wasn’t quite Al anymore. Or at least not only Al in the room with you now.

Your rage could match his, but your strength certainly couldn’t. Your flailing arms could only scratch the door frame, unable to latch onto anything as you were dragged backwards all too easily. Realizing where Al was headed hit you like a punch in the jaw, and you writhed desperately as you were heaved towards the basement door. You weren’t above begging, not where those dank depths were concerned, but your sudden onslaught of fear was still braided with deep anger. 

“Please, Al! Stop!” you cried, a threshing foot knocking over a kitchen stool with a heavy clatter.

“Things were good,” he said, a little breathless, but not tired from carrying your weight across the room, “Why can’t you be good?”

Your paltry strength was useless to you, and you had only your words and quick thinking to fend off this attack, to stop this ending down there. Your scalp burned as Al pulled a hand away from you, using it to open the wooden door that led down the stairs to the basement. Scrambling for words, anything to stop this madness, your mind flicked frantically through ideas, like a Rolodex of memories and images, until an idea clicked into place. What Al had just said, the knowledge you had- it might just work. 

“I- am-good!” you struggled with the tight grip around your diaphragm, gripping the doorframe that bisected the two lives you’d lived in this house, above and below. “The basement is only for- Naughty Boys-” your fingers were pried from the frame with your depleted strength, only enough useful breath for a final few words. Better make them count. “Isn’t it- Albert?”

His name- his full Christian name- had Al stopping mid step at the top of the stairwell with you still bundled in his arms. That name, its use so foreign on your tongue, had Al frozen. It wasn’t the surprise of hearing that almost-obsolete version of it, but rather, what is represented. The images must be flashing through Al’s mind, you figured, from the ragged breaths escaping him, his grip loosening a fraction in reaction to the allusions you were gouging into his mind. Because who ever called him Albert aside from his father? His father, whose steps Al was shadowing decades later, dragging someone smaller, weaker down those wooden steps. 

Al sucked in a huge intake of breath, as if coming up for air after being underwater a long time, surfacing from whatever awful memory he was reliving thanks to your reminder. It was cruel, perhaps, but needed at that moment. Halfway between that frozen stupor and consciousness, Al released your body with such a force that you stumbled a few steps before dropping onto the linoleum of the kitchen floor, just a couple feet away from the doorway. Unfortunately, you’d awkwardly clawed backwards in your freefall, catching Al’s shirt in a tight grasp as you plummeted. In his frozen, paralytic state, he tumbled down after you, barely catching himself on an arm, holding himself above you, hanging there like a possessed spirit. His eyes were dull; he hadn’t yet returned fully back, still trapped in his own past, in a mental séance you’d created with your words that had summoned past demons. 

A thin taper of bronze sunset light filtered through the kitchen blinds, slashing across Al’s vision. The stupor subsided, and with a renewed consciousness, he gave you a crushing look. It was the same one he’d shown at Max’s, when he’d realized he’d gripped your arm a little too tightly, had taken it a step too far with an alluding threat of the Grabber. And now, he’d gone even further. He’d never taken it so close to that knife’s edge, not since you’d chosen to stay of your own free will. If Al kept wading into those dangerous waters, you wondered whether eventually the tide might carry him away completely. Away from his sanity. Away from you forever.

Al hovered above you, and you lied below. Silent, save for both of your heaving chests, grazing lightly against the other’s. After an age, he spoke.

“Y/N, I-”

SMACK. Your flat palm cut short an apology you didn’t want from him. Not yet, when you realized your rage hadn’t subsided. Just because Al had suppressed that thing inside of him, didn’t mean you were about to toss aside your own justified anger at things still left unsaid. His head had reeled in shock from the slap, but he turned his face back to you, a small growl escaping through gritted teeth. Your eyes locked to his, though he began to trace a path downwards with his eyes, down the slope of your nose and coming to focus on your mouth, your lips. Your own stare descended too, finding those crooked teeth through thinly-parted lips, a shadowy suggestion of a red handprint on the cheek beside it. 

This was a bad idea, in extremely poor taste even for a depraved pair such as you two. You both knew you shouldn’t, but it was going to happen. You’d argued. You’d seethed and you’d fought. Why not fuck? It seemed as good (or as bad) a suggestion as those other outlets. Your matching tempers still needed a release, so right there, on the chafing linoleum of the kitchen floor, you and Al let loose your rage, a different iteration of sparring between you both. 

You couldn’t have defined it as love making, savage and wild as it was. Those lethal hands- one fisting your hair, the other curled around your neck, squeezed and grabbed as your own hands gripped his shirt in tightly clenched fists. No sweet kisses exchanged between your lips, only possessive bites plied on your neck, your shoulder, your jaw as your nails raked roughly through Al’s ashen locks and bit him right back. You were at each other’s throats in an entirely new way now. 

Impressive, really, how quickly you could undress in your tempestuous states- Al ripped your blouse open, buttons flying as you yanked down your shorts. Then his turn, kneeling upright to pull off his shirt as you worked his belt loose, freeing his cock with a yank on his trousers. He shuffled out of them quickly as you worked free your bra, then a sharp tug had you flat on your back as Al ripped your underwear from your body, almost beastly, as if shredding them to ribbons with claws.  

Even if you hated him at this moment, you didn’t hate this; the usual wetness having built during the carnal undressing and aggressive foreplay. Al dragged your body closer, back burning from the friction of skin on linoleum as he lined up with your hot, aching core. In one vigorous push he was inside of you, barely giving you time to adjust before beginning the assault. Neither of you spoke, no loving words from Al of how perfect you felt around his cock, no sweet hums of pleasure from you letting Al know how wonderful he made you feel. Only low grunts accompanied the sound of your sweat-slicked bodies slapping into each other with every thrust. Your hips would bruise from the pressure of Al’s hands gripping them, but you’d repay the favor; one set of fingernails curled around a bicep, leaving dripping red crescents in their wake, whilst your other hand clawed into his muscular back. Whether wet from sweat or blood, you didn’t care to know.

It was sex through gritted teeth and furious scowls, your matching lust only rivaled by identical dark, raging glowers as you stared daggers at the other, pupils blown in equal parts ecstasy and rage. Until Al pulled out completely, dragging a keening moan from you: it felt almost like a losing move, admitting your disappointment at him leaving you wanting. But he resumed soon enough, only stopping a moment to flip you over, shove a palm between your shoulder blades to push your ass into the air, before grabbing your hips again and taking you from behind. Propped on your elbows, your forearms chafed on the rubbery floor, but from this angle, Al’s cock was connecting with that spot deep inside you, obliterating the pain with the animalistic pleasure. You figured- if you were going to scrap like animals, you might as well fuck like them too.

Pleasure rippled through both of you, the splintering sensation almost as deep and far-reaching as your scorching rage. You stilled, Al leaning over you with his hot breath on your back, only ragged breaths permeating the silent, muggy air. The sweat dripping from you felt like a skin shedding, sloughing off a layer of residual anger that you’d been holding onto. And left underneath? An emptiness inside that you weren’t sure how to refill. You pushed backwards, Al relenting and falling back on his ass as you rose on shaky legs. A lingering, hollow look into those ocean blue eyes before you left wordlessly. Al didn’t follow you this time. 

Al remained on the kitchen floor a while, naked and alone, as Y/N slipped silently away into the house. As good as that release felt, Al was more relieved he had sex to fall back on, a way to temper that anger and placate that beast. Because he nearly fucking did it, didn’t he? He’d nearly put her down there, and it was only his dove’s desperate mind games that had pulled him out of the drowning depths of his own broken psyche. If she hadn’t, and Al had continued that downward spiral, right down the stairwell and into the basement… if he’d have put her in there, locked the door… she would have had no choice, no match against his strength. Which ‘he’ was being referred to was a sore subject as Al pondered it, because it was all him. Yet, somehow not really him at all. Al really thought that other part of himself was dead and buried, yet there he lived, a faint thrum of him under his skin, waiting and watching, always.

If he’d have done it, put her in the basement, he would have let her out once that beast had retreated to a dark corner of his mind. But she wouldn’t trust him again, and would probably be spurred on to leave for real next time. He was already a difficult man to love, and that might just break the fragile foundation on which their relationship stood. Maybe no amount of groveling or apologetic pleading would be enough to fix such a shattered thing as that broken vow. 

His dove had gone, and for once, Al was happy that she wasn’t with him. He would let her be alone for a little while, if that’s what she wanted. He’d deny her nothing, even wishes to be far away from him right now, much as that thought pained him, squeezed his heart as if clasped inside a curled, vengeful fist. Being alone also meant he could direct his rage elsewhere, away from her who deserved none of his rageful spite or hideous violence. 

Al rose, shuffled into his trousers, and stumbled over to a sideboard where a pack of cigarettes and his brass lighter lay. Leaning against the sideboard, Al thought hard as he puffed a plume of smoke into the stuffy kitchen air, darkening in the dusky light. He’d  been so adept at taking away choices- from her, mostly, as she’d so correctly reminded him earlier, when she’d listed just a fraction of his past violations back at him. Well, he would take away a choice from himself this time- the choice to put her back in that basement. He’d eradicate that possibility- forever.

A distant sound of running water (his little thing running a bath, probably), and Al made his decision. Stubbing out the cigarette in an ashtray, Al moved with purpose now, squatting down to root through the cupboard under the sink for what he needed. He stood with a grunt as his knees clicked softly, the heavy hammer grasped firmly in his hand, and knew what he needed to do. He’d destroyed so much in his life, inflicted countless pain and suffering, even to himself. But maybe wreaking this type of destruction would help, for once, to repair something he’d broken.

[keelt9]

Chapter 8

Powder

Masterlist

“Good morning honey.” Sunday morning is always the same, my parents make a nice breakfast for us to eat in the garden. When I was little in the weekends, after dad came from a mission, specially a hard one, dad usually came with a lot of stress some bad nightmares and troubles for keeping calm, so my mother and I opt for isolated him in our backyard with a nice and just made breakfast, as the time pass and my father were related to a calmer position it was already a routine.

“The painting is in the garage.” My dad says, of course, he won’t let split my disobedience.

I watch my mother asking for help but we both know it was useless. “Yeah, thanks.” 

The rest of the day I spend painting the house, my dad takes mercy of me and helps me for 2 hours then he said was enough for today and I got some rest, I take a quick shower and left for go and visit Penny, my parents warned me we have a special guest for dinner and I must be there.

In Hard Deck, Penny was getting ready for a moving weekend, but she stopped when I entered, giving me a couple of minutes of her attention. I told her the reason why I moved from the house that Riley and I bought, and agreed with me but that doesn't mean she didn’t have her doubts.

“So, when you are approved one more time, where are you going to live?” I help her clean the tables. 

“Here, not in my parents house of course, but I’ll find a nice place.” She puts all the balls from the pool table inside the triangle. 

“And if for some reason you don’t approve?” I stop, strangely I already have an answer for that question. 

“I’ll go back to Pearl.”

Pearl Harbor was where everything began, trying to get free from my father's influence; I moved there in my late teens; my mother almost had a heart attack when I told her but somehow works. My application passed most of the time not related to dad; leaving Pearl in one of the carriers is where I found I really have talent for flying and it’s not some kind of mind trick; I was notified in Pearl they sent me to FighterTown. Riley and I celebrate our first honor on the beach;if I think well, Pearl is a place full of happy moments, I don’t mind going back there and settling down.

“Pearl, huh?” Penny didn’t seem to like my choice. 

“Come on Penny, it will be hard to be here in Miramar watching aviators come and go as I stay, meanwhile in Pearl I can have a new start, maybe finish the college, who knows.” She didn’t answer. “You and my parents are the only ones who tied me here, if the navy said no, I would not like to be here and envy the people who get to be up there.” 

I grab her hand. “That means if it’s a no…”

“I’ll quit the navy.” I smile, because even though I know it will be hard, the truth is actually, I don’t see myself in some desk job, I will be so unhappy. 

As Hard Deck star to full of boys, girls, and people from the navy I help Penny a couple of hours before I have to left.I see Payback, Yale and Omaha having around, still any friendly faces, so I grab my things and say goodbye to Penny, just when I was about to enter to the car she came out. 

“Y/N sorry, it’s not the support you expect but… it just will be hard letting you go and not seeing you wearing even this horrendous jacket or just hanging around with those loud guys.” She is clearly overwhelmed by the thought.  

“I know but you still see me, a new me. Let’s not worry about that yet, ok?” She nods. “I love to keep talking but my parents are waiting for me for a special dinner.” 

She hugs me and I feel her sadness just thinking I could definitely go. “Have fun.”

At home my mother has everything set, so we get ready. Even if it’s not a fancy dinner it must be an important guest because dad is really excited watching his clock and reading a book at the same time. 

At 8:30 the doorbell rings and dad goes to open it; my mother and I were about to walk to the dinner room, when we see Pete hugging my father; in a lovely way too similar to the photo hanging on the wall.

Iceman and Maverick smiling and grabbing his hands sealing a lifetime friendship. 

“Who is the best pilot?” My dad asks and Mav smiles. 

“I’m hungry, you don’t?” All of us laugh.

Pete Michell since I have memory is an important person in my parents life, in mine well let’s go to say it’s like having two dads. He always makes sure to be present in my life, even when dad was somewhere on the planet; he always came home with something sweet for me; from time to time he sends me letters asking how I am or just telling me about how much he pisses off his officer. 

Actually, on my 15th birthday I rushed to his home to tell him I already decided what I want to do. He freaked out, so I had a good base for guessing how my parents would react but when he calmed down and saw the strong conviction in my decision he just said. <Just like your old man, head, and hands cold as ice.> 

My parents told him when I got in Top Gun and he made sure to send me a small cake with a little F-14 on the top to Pearl. When I get to be the first in my class dad can’t let this go and barging about one more time a Kazansky is the best pilot. 

And of course, he was there when I crumbled.

Riley and Maverick met when we got our first honor. Riley was on cloud 9 meeting the famous Pete Michell and Mav was glad to know that someone like Riley covers my back all the time.

A couple of days after the funeral, he told me he lost his best friend in a exercise, he understands the pain and the grief I’ve been through, I never ask him more, who was or how he get out of this because I saw the pain still lingering in his eyes, when I decided to get a full recover in my house he refused to left me alone at least until I can walk without the crutches, I’m pretty sure my parents and he having a constant communication was the  reason they left me go so far away from them with a strange calm.

Like mom and dad, Maverick is a big part of me.

I love this kind of dinners where they don’t have filters and talk like the time didn’t pass, and each time I learn something more about them, as the night passes my body screams for a proper rest, so I said goodbye to all and go to sleep. The next morning, I found empty glasses and bottles on the dinner table, and Mav sleeping on the couch. I giggled probably because the night was longer than I imagined.

The clock hanging in the wall marks 11:30 when Mav enters the kitchen with his hands over his eyes.

“I never imagined seeing Maverick hung.” I smiled at him, and he sat in the stool from the kitchen putting his hand over his face. 

“Here.” I put in front of him a cup of strong coffee. 

“The breakfast is almost ready, so I go and wake up my parents.” He nods and smiles, thanking me and raising the cup of coffee. “It’s nice to have you here, uncle Mav.” 

-

“I can’t believe you are thinking that.” Mav said, putting his cup of coffee on the table, my parents just smiled and looked at each other, we’re just in the middle of the breakfast when I told him if I don’t pass, I will decide to move to Pearl. 

“We told her the same.” My mom stands to pick another pancake. 

“Y/N is ridiculous. Come on!” My dad just giggled. 

“IT’S NOT” I pushed my father's shoulder. “Why does no one think they can reject me?” Mav put his hands over the table and laughed. 

“Sky, can you have a little more trust in you, you put me in a really bad position up there, and that's a lot to say.” I smile and wait a little bit for my mother to join us. 

“Listen, I really appreciate all the blind confidence you have in me but let’s be real, my position it’s not sure anymore and I must have a plan B, and that’s ok, I’ll be ok.” All give me a half smile, not wanting to, they let slip the topic.

When we all are saying goodbye to Maverick my dad can’t avoid messing around one more time. “Pete, the next time, told Penny she didn’t need an invitation to come too.” He got shy at the moment, put on his sunglasses and left home waving his hand. 

“You don’t forgive him a single one, right?” Dad smiles and wink at me.

-

“I’m leaving.” I scream getting downstairs. 

“Hold on, hold on, hold on, young lady.” I smile and turn to see my father reading the newspaper in the living room. “Leaving where?” I sat next to him and put my head on his shoulder. 

“Hard Deck, dagger team is leaving, and I want to say goodbye to them.” He turns the page. 

“And?” I laugh. 

“Have a little fun.” 

He kisses the top of my head. “Be careful.” I hug him and kiss my mother cheek who is entering with a glass of water. “Have fun, honey.”

Hard Deck has a full house, when I get to the counter I see Penny talking and having fun with all the people who are asking for a drink, then she turns around, she sees me sitting and watching the crowd.

“You came” I smile and nod. 

“But I think I arrived at a bad moment.” She denied. 

“No, they are all already he…” She sees the same I saw when I sit; Phoenix in intense play with other people on the table pool, Bob is talking with a nice girl while he smiles to her shyly, Jake is talking with other aviators I guess, barging about how good he is and Rooster well his lips are really busy. She closed her eyes and giggled. 

“Can I offer you something?” I ask for mineral water, another drop of alcohol and my liver will bother me all the coming week. “You look great, by the way.” 

I corrected her. “I look cute.” A blue summer dress is my outfit of the night.

I let the minutes pass, focus on the crowd and think about how much I will miss this if I fail, but at the same time it will be painful and hard to be here, suddenly I hear someone call my name. 

“Sky” I turn, and I see a guy who I can recognize from the dagger team. “They left you in the ditch, huh?” He came closer. 

“Well, they are busy right now.” He scoffs. 

“Come on, let’s play, Hangman always presumes about your fine aim.” I doubt but I also start to get bored. 

“Ok.”

I lost track of time,I was about to throw the next dart, Phoenix pulled me for a hug by the shoulders and lost my balance and hit far away from the center. 

“Why don’t you approach us?” She looks like win more than a couple of games. 

“Damn Nat, I have it.” I close my eyes to the missing target.

“You invited her then let her alone, huh.” I smile and try to get free from Nat. 

“You must tell us, Payback, don't steal her.” She is so strong. 

“Ok, ok, you have me now.” She points with her finger to Payback and Coyote and drags me where Bob is now drinking alone, I wave to them and thank them for the games. 

“Oh, it was actually you.” Bob says when I sit at the table. 

“You almost broke my neck, and yeah it was me.” Nat kept searching for someone in the crowd. 

“If you’re busy, why can't I be there playing?” Nat always will treat me like her little sister. 

“Where the hell is Bangman and Rooster?” Bob and I look at each other, I get it, we both know the answer. 

“Well, Jake is in the bathroom and Rooster is…” Is lovely how good team Bob and Nat have built. 

“Keeping his lips and hands busy.” I cut giggling at the reaction of Nat who just looked at us with open eyes. 

“He is what?” Bob points to our six, where Rooster keeps holding and kissing the girl; Nat didn’t have a chance to answer because Jake sits beside Bob.

“Did you have fun cheating on me? You look beautiful.” He is playing with me, and he notices Nat with her expression about killing someone, he points her to us, and Bob denies and raises his shoulders. 

“Are we having fun, or can I just keep playing with Payback and Coyote?” Jake smiles and all stands walking to the pool tables.

Like Cinderella, when the clock marks the 00:00 in my watch I start to say goodbye. Maybe they left on Tuesday, but I have to go tomorrow morning; a family is waiting to enter their new home tomorrow night. 

“Take care, ok? Never stop talking to her up there.” I hug Bob before going to Nat. 

“You better be back, huh?” She holds me tighter. 

“We work harder to be here for the results, ok?” I felt a few tears in my eyes. 

“Just be safe, that’s all you need to do.” She let me go but holding from my shoulders. Jake pulled me as soon as Phoenix let me go. 

“We’ll be here kiddo, we promise.” I put my arms around his waist. 

“Be safe, but never stop looking good.” He laughs and messes up my hair. 

“I’m always looking good.” 

I turned when I took a few steps. “Say goodbye to the guys.” They nod and wave his hands to me, I walk to say goodbye to Penny, she’s talking with the girl who was with Rooster, but he wasn’t there. 

“Y/N are you leaving?” She asks me when sees me. 

“Yeah, I have a flight early in the morning.” I smile at the girl and jump over the counter to kiss Penny's cheek. “I guess I’ll see you next weekend, right?” She lends me my purse. 

“Affirmative.” She smiles at me. “Take care, ok?” I nod and wave before leaving Hard Deck.

In the night while I was sitting on the little “bench” from my window I talked to myself. “Come on Sky, have a one sided crush is the last you need right now. Put yourself together, there is still a lot to do for having troubles with that.” I laid in bed and remembered Riley's words.

<You deserve someone who loves you with all his heart, mind and soul, not settle with less.> 

*

I let go of Lilian with her friends and I stayed with the rest of my team. 

“She is great.” I hear Coyote talking while he’s paying the bill to Penny. 

“A new girl in your sight?” I ask feeling the dangerous eyes from Phoenix and Penny. 

“I don’t think Hangman will let me.” He says waving his hand to Penny and leaving the bar. 

“Totally right.” Jake kisses Penny cheek before going, leaving just Penny, Phoenix, Bob, and me.

“Who is it?” Phoenix punches me in the arm. 

“Y/N…” Damn it. 

“She was here.” Bob ends her sentence. 

“I told you Bradley, no games if you really like her.” Bob and Phoenix said goodbye to Penny leaving me speechless. 

“Penny…” She cut me off. 

“Rooster, you know I love you so much, but I warn you, Y/N it’s not a girl to mess around, and I won’t let anyone mess around her.” Her face is serious let me know I really fuck off. “Go and rest Rooster, you need to be fine for the deployment.”

[heykoonsy]

Word Count:  5.7k+

Pairing: Husk x Angel Dust (HuskerDust/AngelHusk), slight Angel Dust x OC

Summary: “Give him everything but your ass.” Angel Dust was tasked with one job: convince the investor to subsidize Valentino’s agency. Angel was more of a closer to Valentino, enticing the wealthier of his associates into funding projects for him. However, this latest pitch didn’t go as planned and Angel’s hubris prevented him from seeing the potential drawbacks of a one night stand with someone Valentino marked. In this slow burn love story, Angel must confront the worst parts of himself if he is going to win back his career.

Content Warnings: Rated 18+ for foul language and unprotected sexually explicit content

Author's Note: I hope this chapter was worth the wait, my apologies for the delay!

Angel Dust tried to calm himself as he sat in the meeting room that he’d more or less fired Mr. Jullien in several weeks ago. It was sobering to say the least how their roles had reversed. In the darkest part of Angel’s mind, he worried that Jullien had only set up this meeting to give him hope before letting him crash and burn. Angel looked towards the rest of his team, their faces showing just as much anxiety as his. He took a deep breath, exhaling from his nose. 

Everything was going to be fine, Angel told himself.

Spitzers was seated at the end of the table, his hands folded in on themselves as he waited patiently. While his expression was muted, that did not mean that he was at all settled. Angel could tell just by looking at him that his mind was going through several back up plans. The only problem was, that he probably couldn’t think of any.

Agony and Brut were a different story. Their worries showed right on their faces. Brut seemed to always be anxious–it was in his nature to show whatever he felt. He could probably tell that they’d found themselves in a precarious situation–but negotiating deals like this was not his strong suit. It was likely that he was putting all of his trust in Spitzers.

Agony was strumming his fingers on the table, eager to get started with the meeting and yet simultaneously terrified that it would start. His eyes swept over the table as well, his eyes meeting Angel’s. He gave an unsteady smile–not quite sure what else to do. 

Angel smiled back, trying to hide the feelings of dread he clearly felt. While none of his current partners knew that Angel fired Jullien, he knew that it would give them yet another reason to worry so he kept it to himself. 

Like it was his cue to arrive, Mr. Jullien walked through the door to the small conference room. He looked pretty grim–and his eyes were cold as they swept over Angel Dust in particular. He did his best not to cringe, instead rising from his seat and offering his hand up in greeting since he was the closest. 

“Thank you for coming,” Jullien said without a shred of emotion and a limp handshake. 

Angel nodded, “Thank you for reaching out,” he grabbed his hand. 

Then, Jullien went around the room and greeted everyone else, stopping only when he’d made a full circle around the table. He motioned for all of them to take their seats, and they did.

“It’s come to my attention that Valentino has blacklisted you,” Jullien said to Angel.

Angel nodded despite feeling singled out. “That’s correct,” he said politely. 

Jullien chuckled wryly, “Well that’s karma for you.”

Angel took the comment on the chin, trying to laugh with him. He looked towards Spitzers, hoping that if anything, he had a plan. 

Spitzers cleared his throat, “We were under the impression that you were here to form an alliance.”

Jullien quieted down, nodding towards Spitzers. “Since Valentino revoked his support, I’ve been forced into a lot of unsavory alliances,” he said, his eyes fixed onto him.

Angel gulped, knowing for a fact that they were about to get fired before their partnership even began. 

“But my company is all the better for it,” Jullien said after a moment. 

Angel–hell, the whole room–looked at him strangely. 

“I was forced to look into investors, however a majority of them sided with Valentino’s decision to sever our ties,” Jullien recounted. “However, I was able to come to an agreement with one and our immediate concerns of bankruptcy dissolved.”

Angel sat up in his chair, his eyebrows knitting together. 

“I was consulted with this investor once we learned of your blacklist, Angel Dust,” Jullien said. “And he convinced me that we would be fools not to capitalize on the biggest mistake Valentino has ever made.”

The entire room seemed to breathe a collective sigh of relief. Angel Dust sat there, his mouth agape as the rest of his team started to chuckle nervously. He looked at Spitzers, who put his hand to his shoulder. 

“Tezan said that?” Angel said, shock still apparent on his face. 

Jullien was surprised that he knew of him, but nodded nonetheless. “He insisted that we put the past behind us.”

While Spitzers and Jullien went back and forth regarding the details of their merge, all Angel could do was sit there quietly. After Angel met with Tezan and they had their little exchange, he thought that would be it for him. Angel thought that once Tezan enacted his revenge that he would be finished with him. But to hear that he stuck his neck out for Angel–for an enemy…

Angel wondered if perhaps Tezan was simply righting the wrong–just like Angel had attempted to do with Agony and Brut. Perhaps Tezan truly regretted his involvement. That was a feeling that Angel was far too familiar with. As terrible as Tezan was–he’d really saved Angel’s ass with this one.

Angel rummaged through the pile of mail that had formed–all addressed to him. He read each one, flipping through the stack quickly. Bills, coupons, scam, invitation, scam, credit card, Angel rifled through the stack again, finding the black invitation. He threw everything else in the garbage can next to his door. He ran his fingers along the velvety envelope with gold lettering embossed on the front.

You’ve been invited…

Angel tore open the envelope and opened up the card inside. It was black, the same gold lettering used throughout the invitation. 

You have been invited to the AVN’s Award Ceremony where you and many others within the industry have been recognized for exemplary talent. 

Angel read on, his eyes catching the usual details–one being that he could bring a plus-one–and there was really only one person that came to mind. He rifled through his pocket with one hand, holding his invitation with the other. Angel opened his text conversation with Cherri. 

Over the last few weeks, he’d been busy trying to repair his career that was in shambles–but he’d also been trying to repair his relationship with Cherri. He scrolled up on their conversation, which had been one sided ever since he’d sent those first few apology texts. So far, he’d apologized three more times–going into detail and being more vague–and nothing garnered a response. 

Angel sighed. He knew that he didn’t really deserve a response–not with the way he’d pushed her away and ditched her. He thought that that was over the first time he’d done it–but it seemed that he was full of surprises, good and bad. Still, Angel took a deep breath and did the only thing he hadn’t had the courage to do all these weeks. 

He hit the call button. 

Angel went through all stages of grief as he heard the phone ring. There was no way she would answer–not after giving him the cold shoulder for this long. Angel knew she was one stubborn bitch anyway. If she answered, Angel knew that he could smooth things over but–

Oh God, what if she never answered? Angel thought, one of his hands going to his head as he paced his room.

Then, Angel heard a click on the other end of the line. 

“Hey,” Cherri said quietly–almost like she was having the same crisis as he was. 

“Hey,” Angel parroted, his voice low.

The two of them let the silence drag between them–and Angel regretted being so impulsive. If he knew she was going to answer, then he would have prepared something to fucking say.

“Look, I’m sorry I haven’t been around much,” Cherri said into the phone. 

“Why the fuck are you apologizing?” Angel asked incredulously. “I’m sorry for being such a fucking asshole.”

Cherri laughed into the phone, “Yeah, you were pretty rotten,” she said.

Angel missed her laugh. “What have you been up to?”

Cherri recounted a few funny stories about what she’d been doing for the last few weeks. Most of it was dumb day-to-day shit, and Angel understood completely. Afterall, Angel knew that they were one in the same. Cherri was his person, and Angel was hers–without each other there…

“I’m sorry for shutting you out,” Cherri and Angel both said in unison. Then they both laughed. 

It wasn’t like everything was magically fixed. There were still things that Angel knew he couldn’t tell her yet–and Cherri likely felt the same–but it was a start. She decided to give him the time of day again, and that was a good enough victory in and of itself. He’d missed weeks of his best friend’s life in an instant, all because he didn’t know how to deal with his own shit.

Angel inhaled deeply and sighed, “It’s great to hear your voice.”

“You too,” Cherri said. “Do you want to go out for drinks or something? Catch up?”

Angel smiled so hard his cheeks hurt. “You know, it’s funny, because I know exactly where we can go.”

“Are you done in there yet?” Husk asked, the frustration in his tone evident. 

“Perfection takes time, Husky,” Angel shouted from the bathroom. 

He looked in the mirror, giving himself a once-over before leaving. Then, Angel grabbed the knob and swung open the door. “Are ya ready for me?” Angel cooed.

Husk grunted instead of responding. 

Angel walked over to him, his hands behind his back as he showed off one of the outfits that he’d thrown together for the award ceremony tomorrow. 

“What do you think?” Angel asked, twirling the teal cocktail dress. His hands went to the hem of the dress, lifting his leg up to show off the sparkly heels he’d paired with it. 

Husk raised an eyebrow, “What else ya got?”

Angel made a face. “What, is it the neckline?” Angel looked down at the halter neckline, which did hide a majority of his fluff. If he were honest, he really only chose it because he thought the color complemented his complexion.

Husk grabbed Fat Nuggets from the floor and began patting his head. “Try again,” he said before banishing Angel back to the bathroom. 

Angel huffed the whole way, but he was excited to show off his next outfit. He hurried and shed the teal dress, his arms already searching for his second outfit. Without much of a fuss, he slid on the next one, his hands working the dress and sliding it down. Within minutes he was back out and modeling for Husk.

“Okay, what about this one?”

Husk nodded, “Better,” he said quickly.

Angel looked down at the sweetheart neckline–his eyes immediately drawn to the intricately lined beading that seemed to come from the right side of the dress and sprawl out towards the left. The dress was form fitting and stopped just above his knee. This particular dress was to showcase his legs above all else. 

“You think so?” Angel said with a smile. “There’s one more after this.”

Husk waved him off and Angel got to work switching out the dresses. He traded out one pair of heels for another, using the sink for balance. He was out of the bathroom in record time. 

“Close your eyes, this ones a real show stopper!” Angel hollered from just outside the bathroom door.

Angel waited a beat for Husk to comply–which he didn’t doubt that he did. Angel walked towards where Husk was seated on the bed, quietly stepping in front of him so that he could sneak a glance at him. Angel smiled, he had indeed done as requested and shut his eyes. He sat there with his ankle resting on his knee, Fat Nuggets spread across his lap getting the petting of a lifetime. Both hands.

There was a look of annoyance on Husk’s face, but Angel could tell that he was enjoying himself. If he was truly angry, he would have just left. But, the fact that he was here placating Angel meant that he was happy to spend some time with him. Truth be told, Angel had been so focused on the agency, all he had time to do these days was work and sleep.

And of course a trip to the deli before work when he remembered that he needed to eat to live. Belise always told him if he’d seen his pig or not that day. Fat Nuggets too. He brushed his hands on his dress, smiling down at Husk for one last second. He really wanted to soak in their time together.

“Open,” Angel said after a moment. 

Husk opened his eyes slowly, his attention drawn to Angel’s shoes first. Angel kicked them out for him, showcasing the satin fabric of the shoe with flowers trailing up the heel. Husk followed the exposed skin of Angel’s legs, the train of emerald chiffon hiding them just enough to pique his interest. Husk sat up, his eyes tracing where the chiffon met the bandage-style crossbody bodice.

Angel’s eyes followed Husk’s as his eyes were finally drawn to the sweetheart neckline that was embellished with similar flowers to the heels he sported.

“Well?” Angel asked, gesturing towards the dress.

“Huh?” Husk said before shaking his head. “Oh, it looks great.”

Angel didn’t look impressed, instead he placed his hands on his hips and leaned forward. “Great?” Angel parroted.

Husk nodded, seemingly fixated on the gown. “It’s clearly the best.”

Angel looked down. “Well I’ll admit, I was secretly hoping that you’d choose this one.” 

He made a show of twirling the train, letting the light fabric catch against the wind he’d created. He stopped as quickly as he’d started. 

“Okay, that settles it,” Angel said happily. “Let me just take this off,” he clapped his hands together, taking a moment to reach behind him towards the zipper.

Angel watched from the corner of his eye as Husk put Fat Nuggets down on the bed next to him before he stood. He took a step closer, his hands stretching towards the chiffon. He grabbed it, rolling the fabric between his fingers. Angel’s arms fell to his sides and he watched as Husk palmed the exterior of his thigh–slowly dragging against the satin bodice. Angel felt the pressure of his hand as it made its way from his stomach to his ribs…and finally towards the small of his back. 

Husk pulled Angel towards him, his face buried in Angel’s fluff. Angel was surprised, his hands going to Husk’s shoulders. Husk lifted his chin–his eyes immediately going to Angel’s. When he looked down, the only thing he saw was Husk’s face.

Angel opened his mouth to speak, but the only thing he could do was bite his lip as he felt Husk’s left hand travel up his other leg, moving at a slow crawl before sneaking its way up his back. 

“Let me help,” Husk whispered to Angel before sneaking a kiss to his collarbone.

Angel felt his entire body heat up at Husk’s request. He tried to get himself under control once he felt Husk’s hands leave him. He watched as he stepped back, and Angel wanted nothing more in that moment than to close the distance between them. But instead, he turned his back to him and waited. 

Angel breathed in when he felt Husk’s fingers tracing the back of the dress, right where his skin and the fabric met. He traced the outline of the zipper slowly, separating the satin overlay and revealing the metal teeth underneath. Then, like he was being paid by the second, Husk grabbed the slider and slowly dragged it down. 

Angel felt the cool air against his back for a moment, the dress splitting down the middle. Then, Angel felt Husk kiss the space between his shoulder blades softly. He gasped at the gentle touch, and with each centimeter that the zipper exposed, Angel was awarded with another kiss. For a moment, Angel wished that he was in front of a wall or something because he desperately needed something to lean on. The slider finally reached the bottom of the track, right at the small of Angel’s back. When Angel felt Husk’s lips graze the sensitive skin there, he nearly collapsed. 

Husk stayed low, choosing to kiss a trail upwards along Angel’s spine. Angel reveled in every soft touch of his lips, goosebumps raising on his skin. He exhaled the air he didn’t know he’d been keeping in and Husk wrapped his arms around his stomach in response.

“Almost there,” Husk whispered over Angel’s shoulder. 

Husk raised his hands slowly, going at an agonizing pace as they finally met the neckline of the emerald dress. Husk scooped Angel’s fluff in his hands, breathing a contented sigh against his exposed skin. Angel leaned forward slightly, the tickling sensation from behind him making him antsy. Husk followed him, giving his back another kiss as his hands dragged Angel’s neckline lower as he undressed him.

Angel felt the fabric leave his chest and ball up towards his bottom row of arms. Husk reached around him and touched every ounce of exposed skin that he’d freed from Angel’s dress. When he cupped fistfuls of Angel’s fluff, Angel choked on a moan. He tried to stifle himself with his top set of hands since his other ones were currently struggling to shimmy free from their arm-hole prison.

Husk came to the rescue, pulling the bodice forward so that Angel’s arms could sneak out. Once they were free, he covered his chest with them, suddenly feeling very exposed even though it was just them and Fat Nuggets in his room right now. Angel felt Husk’s hands follow the bodice to where it was bunching up at his hips. He followed Husk’s movements with his mind, feeling as he lowered the fabric until it fell to the floor. 

Once the dress was off, Angel felt Husk’s hands falter at his waist. His fingers played with the fabric of his panties–snapping the elastic against Angel’s skin. Angel shuddered as Husk’s face dipped lower, kissing a trail all the way from his back to his hip.

“Step out for me?” Husk whispered against hip. 

Angel complied, stepping to the side so that Husk could pick up the dress off the floor. Once Husk picked it up, he draped it over his arm and presented it to Angel. Angel swallowed hard, taking the garment and avoiding eye contact with Husk. He walked towards the bathroom, grabbing the hanger he’d taken it off of and hanging it on the back of the door to deal with later. Fat Nuggets seemed to have followed him over, nudging his snout against Angel's leg. He looked below him, watching as Nugs chose to lie in Angel's discarded street clothes.

Suddenly, Angel heard Husk from the other side of his room. 

“Let me take off your shoes.”

Angel felt his entire body reduce to jelly. There he stood in the doorway of his bathroom–his arms covered in goosebumps and his skin pinkening at his cheeks. His legs were damn close to giving out from under him…and Husk wanted to continue? Husk was clearly trying to kill him–why else would be trying to turn him on like this?

Angel tried to deny him, deny himself, but he left the doorway immediately. He walked slowly, giving Husk a show as he sauntered over. Angel liked to believe that his gate was laden with confidence–but he knew in his heart that he had the grace of a chicken as he stumbled over to Husk. He wasn’t normally this nervous, but there was something about Husk’s gaze that unnerved him. 

Angel stopped just shy of Husk, giving him a moment to take him in. Angel was in nothing but his emerald green pumps and his black panties. Lesser men would have fucking died seeing him like this. But, Husk simply beckoned him to take a seat on his bed. Angel wasted no time and sat down on the edge of the bed. He kept his knees together, looking up at Husk. 

Husk got down on one knee in front of Angel’s legs. He looked up at him, his eyes half-lidded as he reached for Angel’s calf. When his fingers made contact with his skin, Angel jolted a bit but ultimately rested in Husk’s hand. Husk let his fingers trail down his leg, moving slowly towards his ankle. Finally, they reached the flower detailing along the heel of his pump. Husk took extra care as he slipped it off of him, placing it beside him on the floor. 

Angel’s breath caught in his throat as he felt Husk’s lips against his shin, peppering kisses all the way up to his knee. When Angel felt his hot breath on his inner thigh, Angel fell back against the bed, covering his face with his hands. 

“Fuck, Husky,” Angel breathed.

Husk made a noise in the back of his throat–like he was goading Angel. Smug bastard.

Husk immediately switched to Angel’s other thigh, his lips using where Angel’s thighs met as a bridge. Angel felt his stomach drop as the kisses continued down his shin. Husk lifted up Angel’s leg and he slowly took off his other shoe. Placing them together on the floor, Angel hoped that the torture was over. 

That was until Husk lifted Angel’s left leg in the air and spread his legs to compensate for his hips as he stood. Angel moved his fingers enough to look at Husk as he thrust himself against Angel. He moaned against his fingers, dropping his hands so that he could lift himself up onto his elbows. 

“Angel,” Husk said, his voice thick.

Angel didn’t reply so much as he did whine, “Yeah?”

Husk lowered his body against Angel’s moving his hips forward, coaxing another moan from him. Husk stopped just short of Angel’s mouth, his arms keeping him in place. 

“Do you want this?” Husk asked, his hips pressing firmly against Angel once again. 

Angel writhed against the pressure, he moaned instead of answering. 

“It’s already yours,” Husk dipped his head low, pressing a kiss to Angel’s chin. “I’m already yours.”

Angel Dust realized quickly what Husk meant, and Angel couldn’t help but hesitate for a moment. Angel’s eyes met Husk’s and he saw his reflection in them. Angel looked scared.

“Do you want me?” Husk asked, pulling himself away. 

In a split-second decision, Angel closed his legs around Husk, preventing him from moving any farther away. 

“I’m serious, kid,” Husk said, resting on his knees. He grabbed fistfuls of Angel’s thighs. “You gotta tell me if you want all this.”

Angel lifted himself up more, so that his arms were keeping him upright. He looked at Husker in the eyes, one at a time. Angel opened his mouth to say something, anything–

“I can’t be some fling to you, kid,” Husk said finally.

Angel tightened his legs around Husk and grabbed him with his lower set of hands. When Husk fell forward, Angel caught his face in his waiting set. He kissed him deeply, pressing his hips up to meet Husk’s. Husk pressed his right hand against the bed, his left weaving into Angel’s hair. Angel led the charge, kissing one of his lips at a time and getting Husk lost in the rhythm of it. 

Then, once Husk resigned himself to keeping himself up with his upper body alone, he slid his right hand along Angel’s side–

In one quick movement, Angel flipped them over so that he was on top. Angel broke their kiss, letting Husk fall to the mattress below them. Angel straddled him, both sets of his arms caressing Husk’s chest and abdomen. He looked down at him, eyes sweeping over his knit brow to his parted lips. Husk raised himself onto his elbows and Angel pushed him back down. 

“I can’t be some fling to you,” Angel said, pressing his finger against Husk’s chest. 

Angel meant every word. He looked down at Husk, letting his expression speak for itself. He lowered himself onto Husk, kissing a trail up his stomach to his chest. He stopped when he got to the sensitive flesh of his neck, peppering wet kisses all the way to his ear. 

“I want this,” Angel whispered, grabbing Husk’s hand and pressing it to his own chest. Angel let him feel how quickly his heart was beating. “I want you.”

Husk grabbed Angel’s arm and pulled him down to continue their kiss. Their lips moved against each other at a feverish pace, parting only to breathe or let a moan escape as they fought for more friction below. Then, just as quickly as their kiss began, Angel separated them. He sat back, his ass resting comfortably against Husk’s groin.

“Husky,” Angel breathed, the reddening of his cheeks worsening by the second. 

Husk responded to his nickname being called by thrusting his hips upward.

Angel moaned in response, lifting himself off of Husk to prevent it from recurring. He looked down at Husk, eyes narrowing. “Husky, do you want me?”

“Yes.”

Angel looked down at him, “You didn’t even consider–

“I don’t need to.” Husk shook his head. “I’ve wanted you since you rigged that game.”

Angel thought back, remembering the exact moment clearly. He’d rolled three napkin balls and placed them underneath the jiggers–all without Husk noticing. Angel was suddenly embarrassed, awakening the nerves that he’d felt back then all over again. He was a nervous wreck after he’d given Husk his “present”. He felt the flush overtake his face–of course Husk knew he’d rigged it–he cleaned up their game after Angel ran off.

Angel sat back down, a hand going to his face to obscure Husk’s view of him. Husk replied by rising from the bed, propping himself up with his hands as he followed Angel’s meek expression despite his attempts to shield it. Husk grabbed Angel’s face with his right hand, dragging it towards him to press their lips together again. Angel melted towards him, coaxing Husk to lie back down onto the mattress. When he was in position, Angel separated their lips, propping himself up by pushing on Husk’s shoulders. Once he was seated again, he dragged his hands down Husk’s chest, his fingers tracing the bands of his suspenders. 

Husk tucked his left shoulder in, his hand moving the band to the side. When he reached for the other one, Angel stopped him. He took in the sight below him. He was stradling Husk, his outfit all disheveled, his cheeks red and his mouth wanting. Angel slid his hands farther down, meeting the button of Husk’s pants. Husk inhaled sharply once Angel’s hand brushed against his cock.

Angel took him out, his hand feeling every inch that Husk had tucked away. He looked below him, where Husk’s eyebrows were knitting together and his teeth dug into his lip. It seemed that Husk’s stunt earlier had gotten them both a little hot and bothered because the only thing Angel could think about was–

Instead of just thinking about it, Angel leaned forward and reached into the drawer of his bedside table. The sooner he was all lubed up, the sooner he could…his eyes flicked down to Husk, who followed Angel’s hand all the way to the bottle of lube he grabbed. Husk didn’t hesitate to steal it from him, no doubt knowing exactly what Angel’s plan was. Working quickly, Husk spread the lube along two of his fingers before dropping the bottle beside them. He then forced Angel forward, pressing his slick digits against Angel’s entrance. 

“You’re not getting off that easy,” Husk whispered.

Angel gasped, feeling the cool jelly warm up against his skin. Husk circled around the tight ring of muscle slowly, rubbing along the rim every so often to keep Angel engaged. And how could he be anything but enthralled? Angel arched his ass upwards to give Husk a better angle as he pressed one finger inside–which Angel responded to with a hearty moan. 

With his free hand, Husk pulled Angel in for another kiss, which he continued for as long as he stretched him. By the time Husk pulled away, they were both gasping with saliva trailing between their lips, and Husk had been curling three fingers inside Angel. 

After they both recovered, Angel stood up on his knees slowly. Then, he grabbed Husk’s cock and gave it a slow stroke as he positioned himself above it. Before lowering himself, Angel paused, his eyes going right to Husk’s.

“Tell me that you want me again, Husky,” Angel breathed out his request. 

Husk lifted himself up, his palms dragging along Angel’s hips and thighs. He looked up at him–eyes boring into Angel until all he could feel was Husk’s gaze. “I want you,” his gravelly voice said before lowering his eyes so he could pepper kisses along Angel’s abdomen.

Angel pushed his panties out of the way and lowered himself down, his entrance giving way to the head of Husk’s cock far too slowly for either of their liking. Angel moaned as he took him in, grabbing onto Husk’s shoulders to ground him. Husk hissed as he felt each inch of his cock disappear inside Angel–loving every second of the sensation. 

“Fuck, Angel,” Husk said, his fingers digging into Angel’s hips.

When Angel was satisfied that Husk was buried in him, he rose slightly and the motion shocked both of them. Angel held Husk close, obscuring his face in his fluff as he rotated his hips. The two of them moaned together–their voices seeming to harmonize as Angel slowly got used to his length. Before long, Angel was bouncing, the sounds of skin hitting skin echoing in the room. 

Angel leaned back, his bottom right hand catching Husk’s thigh and stabilizing him as he continued. Angel closed his eyes, focusing on nothing but the tantalizing pleasure he was feeling. However, Angel soon felt Husk tugging at the waistband of his panties. He looked down, continuing the pace he’d set with no trouble. 

Then, Husk palmed Angel’s cock and he moaned, feeling a wave of intense pleasure wash over him. He moaned again when Husk began stroking it in earnest. Angel returned his top row of hands to Husk’s shoulders, with his bottom ones, he sought Husk’s blurring hand. 

“Husky,” Angel whimpered from above, “I’ll cum if you keep that up.”

Husk captured Angel’s mouth, separating his lips and pressing his tongue forward. Angel reciprocated, his stomach dropping from the intensity of their kiss. Angel moaned against his lips, swirling his tongue along Husk’s–not caring as saliva dripped from his mouth. 

“Husky,” Angel whimpered into his mouth, feeling like every part of him that Husk was touching was liable to burst into flames.

“You gonna cum for me?” Husk asked, his voice dripping with lust. 

Angel felt Husk begin to thrust his hips upwards, interrupting his pattern–however, it didn’t stop the tension in his gut that was slowly building. Instead, it pushed him closer to the edge as he realized that for as loud as he was being, Husk was moaning right along with him. In this moment, they were connected, sharing every action as one. 

Angel moved his mouth to the side, his voice wavering. “Shit, Husky, I’m so close–

“I’ve got you,” Husk said, wrapping his arms tightly around Angel–his fingers stretching across his back and ass. 

Angel bounced on Husk’s cock with reckless disregard as he let himself go. He trusted Husk to hold onto him, and he didn’t let go even when Angel was moving erratically. Angel could feel his orgasm building and building–

Angel captured Husk’s lips in a quick kiss before his ass clenched around Husk’s cock. As soon as their lips made contact, Angel reached his breaking point. He moaned loudly into Husk’s mouth, gasping as came. Husk kept pace with Angel, riding out his orgasm with him. Angel let his head fall to the side, gasping for air as his hips stilled and his legs turned to jelly. 

“Fuck,” Angel said after a while, “Fuck.”

Husk chuckled, kissing Angel on the cheek as he came down from his high. He dipped his head lower, giving Angel some well deserved kisses on his neck and shoulder. 

Angel felt Husk’s cock pulsate inside him, and he lifted his head. “It’s your turn,” Angel said as he propped himself up on Husk’s shoulders again. 

Husk hummed in agreement, nuzzling Angel’s neck before grabbing his hips and flipping him over. Angel landed on the mattress, a dazed look on his face as their eyes met once more. 

“You want it like this?” Angel cooed, his tone soft and sweet. 

“I wanna look in your eyes,” Husk breathed out before he thrust his hips forward. 

Angel gasped at the feeling, his ass adjusting to the movement yet again. He raised his legs, wrapping them around Husk’s back as he continued to fuck him. He met Husk’s gaze, watching as every minute sensation registered on his face. He watched as his brow furrowed, his cheeks pinkened, watched his teeth grind together when he found a rhythm he liked. 

Husk propped himself up using his left arm, which he placed next to Angel’s head. His other hand crawled its way down Angel’s side, to his hip and then finally to his thigh. He tightened his grip, forcing them closer still. Angel moaned, forcing their mouths together quickly. Husk kissed him deep and fast, parting only to continue their eye contact. 

Husk followed every movement of Angel’s eyes, and it bewildered him–but it was by no means a turn off. In fact, there was something about the heat in his gaze that made Angel feel butterflies in his stomach. Angel smiled up at him, his eyes softening. Angel wrapped all of his arms around Husk, one set feeling the expanse of his back, the other gently clawing at his ass. 

“Angel,” Husk moaned, his pace getting noticeably more erratic. 

“Keep your eyes on me,” Angel said, hugging him closer, lifting his hips so that Husk could have a better angle.

Husk went feral for a moment, losing himself in the motion–but keeping his eyes locked to Angel’s. He watched as Husk’s eyes narrowed with concentration and Angel could see the need in them. Then, almost as quickly as Angel recognized the emotion–it disappeared. 

Husk pulled out quickly, his hips rocking forward as his cock shot out jet after jet of cum. Angel stroked Husk’s back with all four hands, staying with him as he breathed deeply. Their eyes never wavered–and Angel got to watch a new emotion fill Husk’s eyes. 

Devotion.

[ PREVIOUS ] [ MASTERLIST ] [ NEXT ]

[musewritingsforyou]

Headaches In Milan

a/n: so this was definitely later than I meant it to be! Sorry, I totally disappeared for a while, but I'm back now and here to stay! I have posts scheduled for every other day for the next couple of weeks so stay tuned for some good times!!

same universe with Medic!y/n

1.4k (a shortie) fluff, comfort, humor, behind the scenes of Milan movie shooting

tw: headaches?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The planning of this tour and the filming in Milan had been in the works for a very long time. From before we had even left for tour we knew that one of the shows would be filmed and made into a short movie, it was about three months before we left for tour (fourth months before the concert in Milan) that we found out which one exactly was being filmed. Normally, while all the other staff gets worried when the boys are messing around during rehearsals I take it in stride. I never have any issue with them goofing around because I know that in the end they always get the job done and do wonderfully. That is, except for the week leading up to the filmed show. I hadn't expected it to be any different in my mind than any other, but the thing is, even if it was the same as any other show on tour in my mind, the reality was just so much different.

With the amount of extra work I had to put in so that everything was perfect, not to mention the amount of work I was helping everyone else with and my regular jobs on tour, I was starting to go crazy. The boys had noticed how busy I was a few days before we got to Milan. While they were all enjoying themselves like usual on the bus I was working the entire time. It wasn't too bad just yet though, I was still sure everything would be fine, I wasn't too stressed or concerned, more just busy with all of the different things I was trying to arrange. That all changed once we actually made it to Milan and had three days to set up for the filming of the show. My general busyness turned into sleepless nights staying up working and days full of more work and more stress. By the time we had gotten to the day before the concert, almost everything was set up, but I had barely slept in two days and had only eaten a muffin with my coffee this morning. The stress of it all was starting to get to me and suddenly even the large amount of caffeine I was drinking couldn't keep the raging migraine I felt at bay. I was chewing on my cheek in pain while everyone walked around the venue casually. There were no rehearsals or interviews or anything today, we all agreed that it would be better just to have the day “off” and hang out at the venue, fixing anything we needed to and living for the moment in the calm before the storm. Even though there was no real work to do I still was walking all around the venue through my migraine, looking around and triple checking every bit of equipment I found on my walk. Harry jogged up from behind me and snaked his arms around my waist, placing his head on my shoulder as I rubbed my head.

“You all right love? I can feel the stress coming off of you.” I moved my hands to be on his and turned around so that my face was in his chest.

“Stress? What stress?” He laughed and kissed the top of my head before holding me out at arm's length and taking my hand. He could see clearly in my face that I was in pain and his eyebrows knit tightly together.

“How about you and I go to the bus and take a quick nap, huh? You look like you could use it.”

“I don't know Haz, there's a lot I have to check and make sure-” he stopped me by pulling me along by the hand towards the bus.

“Haz really, I don't think-” He stopped pulling me as we entered the part of the venue where our bus is parked and turned around to look at me. He took both of my hands in his again.

“y/n, look at me. You've done great, you have already triple-checked everything and it's all going to go amazingly, now I can see by the look in your eyes you haven't slept and you probably have a raging migraine so just let me take care of you for once yeah?” I sighed but let him lead me onto the bus. He was right, I had checked everything dozens of times and I did have a migraine. I sat down on the couch in the main part of the bus and Haz went to get me a glass of water and some painkillers. By the time he got back to me with both in hand, I felt like my head was about to explode. All the stress and exhaustion and pain of the past week finally got to me. Seconds after I took the pills I let out a tear.

“Hey, hey, what's wrong?” I started blubbering like a baby into his chest.

“My head hurts, and I'm tired, and I'm stressed, and there is so much to do and-” I went on and on for a few minutes before I finally calmed down. I wasn't crying anymore, though I had practically thrown myself into Harry. My head still hurt horribly, the painkillers hadn't even made a dent.

“What can I do love?” he asked me softly and stroked my hair. I shrugged into him.

“I'm so tired Haz, but I can't sleep because my damn head hurts so bad.” he continued to run his hands through my hair and then he moved so that we were laying down on the couch, I was curled into his chest and he wrapped his arms around me, placing kisses on my forehead. He kept on stroking my hair for about an hour but still, I couldn't fall asleep because of how much my head hurt. I was crying again now, not dramatically like before, just a constant stream of silent tears because I was so tired and my head hurt so much. Finally, Harry decided to do his last-ditch effort at helping me go to sleep. He took off his shirt so that my face was now flush against his chest, he placed my weighted blanket over the two of us, had one hand rubbing my back, the other stroking my hair, and then he began to sing. It wasn't something I had heard before. Might have just been something he was making up on the spot. I couldn't tell you what the words were but it had a sweet soft melody. It still took a little bit of that for me to fall asleep but when I did he could feel the tension leave my body and my breaths slow. He still didn't stop stroking my hair or singing, he kept going just in case it would wake me if he stopped.

When the boys walked in an hour later to grab some things from the bus Harry frantically waved one hand at them, trying to get them off the bus. Finally, one of them saw me asleep under the big blanket, clinging to Harry's bare chest, and told the others to shut up.

“Took me nearly three full hours to get her to sleep!” Harry whispered to them as they all sat down on the couch opposite us.

“Jesus mate what was she on, cocaine?” Louis laughed and a few of the other boys along with him.

“Oi! She's been working her adorable little ass off so that everything goes good for our dumb asses tomorrow night.” Harry said louder than he meant to and then when I stirred a little though not waking up he hummed a little of the song from before.

“Just behave now, would you? At least until tomorrow night?” they all nodded at him.

“Sorry little las.” Louis whispered to me even though I was asleep. The other boys all left the bus quietly, promising to behave themselves and not cause any more stress for me. Eventually, even though it was early we didn't have to get up tomorrow Harry decided that my sleep just looked so comfortable he might try it himself. He pulled me closer to him and placed his head on top of mine and within minutes the both of us were passed out in the parking lot of the biggest venue we had ever been to. But it was still just the same old us, asleep on the same old bus, the only difference being a bit of a headache.

[recurringwriter]

people reblogging posts about rodrigue and adding tags about how he's a good father in an impossible situation who might make mistakes but ultimately loves his family i am sending you bouquets of flowers thank you

[personasintro]

bad word | kth drabble

⇢ 𝒔𝒚𝒏𝒐𝒑𝒔𝒊𝒔; one of the kids in your class curses and you make it your responsibility to break it to her dad, luckily you know him better than your co-workers

⇢ 𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: fluff, smut, dilf!taehyung

⇢ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: protected sex, explicit language, age gap; taehyung is 35 and reader is 28 (although their age is not mentioned in the story, just the age difference of 7 years), mentions of smut, slight biting

⇢ 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕: 6.4k+

𝒂/𝒏: commissioned anonymously! this was supposed to be 4k but here we go again, another proof that it's a challenge for me to write something short haha

𝒎.𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 | ☕️ | © 𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒂𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒓𝒐 (𝒏𝒐 𝒓𝒆𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒕𝒔 𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒐𝒘𝒆𝒅)

“You're doing amazing, Jihoon.” you praise the little boy, patting the top of his head as you glance at his coloring book. The coloring is a little bit off, actually a lot, but you can't really tell him that, can you? He seems to be encouraged by your praise, your heart beaming when he looks up at you and gives you a grin, his two front teeth missing.

You praise other kids at the table, somehow content how silent the room is. Well, apart from the occasional squeals, laughs and toys crashing down the floor every few seconds, but that's just something you got used to very quickly. Now it's just a noise you can listen to without having the need to go somewhere quiet. However, headaches make an occasional appearance once you get back home, the place empty from all the kids noises and their presence. You can't say you hate it though, you actually miss them a lot.

You wouldn't do this job if you didn't like kids. And these particular amazing and cute kids that you get to see five days a week somehow sneaked their way into your heart, so you easily have grown attached to them. You could not see them for one week and feel like they’ve grown too quickly. Not for nothing people say you can see the real time passing by on kids. It's true.

Making your way back to the teachers table, you reach for your bottle of water as you join your co-workers, having a heated conversation while kids have their own play-time without you interfering.

“No, no, no. Mr. Kim has to be the first. Hands down.” Sara says, shaking her head while your other co-worker Katana just chuckles mumbling something along the lines “You've got a point”.

“What are you guys talking about?” you ask them, opening the bottle while taking a few gulps.

“Just ranking the hottest daddies. Kim, Ivy's father is definitely and successfully holding the first place.” Sara waves her hand as if she's talking about weather and not about one of the kids' fathers that is in this very same room.

You choke up, a few droplets of water spilling down your chin as you quickly wipe it with the back of your hand. Katana and Sara burst into laughter, enjoying your sudden and shocked reaction while you glare at them.

“Y/N agrees for sure.” Katana smirks, causing you to frown at her.

“Don't you guys have something else to do?” you mutter, closing the bottle as you feel your heart racing, eyes silently searching for Ivy who's playing with one of the dolls putting them into a kids stroller.

Your heart softens at the sight, her pigtails still successfully holding, the ones you made her once she woke up from her nap time. She always asks you to do them, she can be very persistent when she wants to.

“Loosen up, Y/N. It's not like you don't think Mr. Kim is the perfect dilf out of all daddies here.”

Your head snaps towards Sara, eyes bulge out as you feel your whole face flash while your co-workers laugh at your reaction once again. Your heart beats harshly against your ribcage, feeling their eyes on you as you straighten yourself and clear your throat. Just as you're about to say something, Katana cuts you off before you even have a chance, her eyebrows lifted confidently. Maybe you should be happy they're continuing with the conversation rather than laughing at your reaction and finding you being more frustrated and red with each passing minute.

“He has someone. He clearly isn't with Ivy's mother,”

That's true. Ivy's mother is coming to pick her every second week and it's quite known they're not together. It's not like Ivy's father hides it and besides, Ivy's mother likes to show her frustration towards her ex-husband at every occasion and she definitely doesn't mind if she's doing it in front of her kid's teachers or in the kindergarten her kid is going into. This is definitely not the place to voice out her annoyance towards her kid's father, especially not in front of her even though it seems Ivy has her own little bubble and luckily, doesn't put too much attention to whatever her mother has to say whenever she comes to pick her up, trying to discreetly speak not so fondly about her ex-husband. However, you know better.

Her ex-husband is a very friendly and polite man, loving his daughter like no one else. It warms everyone's heart whenever he comes to pick her up, not because he's handsome or a perfect dilf as your co-workers named him (which to be honest you don't know how to feel about it). Maybe that's why she seems so envious of him because he has a perfect relationship with their daughter. Well, at least that could be one of the other reasons for sure.

However, as soon as those words leave Katana's mouth you feel yourself getting tense all over again as you stare at her with a neutral look. Sara frowns, seeing displeased by the new information and how Katana sounds so sure of herself.

“How do you know that? Has he told you anything?”

Would it be too awkward if you just stepped away from this conversation? Why out of all time, one of the kids can't do something that would require your whole attention and presence? Just like on purpose, there's a complete calm yet cheerful atmosphere in the classroom.

“No,” Katana snickers, “But a man like him has to have someone. I mean, take one look at him. He can't be single.”

You shake your head at her statement, even though partly you'd agree if you didn't know any better. Sara sighs, mumbling a few words of how unfortunate it is that every hot man is either married or dating someone. Not going to lie, you're not blind and it's hard to resist Taehyung's charms. That's what his name is. Kim Taehyung. It sounds nice even in your head. But not even once you were thirsting about him so publicly, especially not in a classroom full of kids even though they can't hear the conversation that's been clearly going on way before you made your way here.

Luckily, someone up there has listened to your silent pleas when two of the kids start to bicker, your clue to turn around and leave from the conversation as you assure Sara and Katana you got it. By the time you kindly explain to the kids bickering isn't nice and give them the pep-talk, Sara and Katana have separated and are playing with other kids.

Later in the day when a few of the kids have already gone home and got picked up by their parents, you're closing the classroom's door while bidding goodbye to one of the kids and their mom. You're opening your mouth, ready to talk to Sara (since Katana already went home because there's no need for the three of you to be here when most of the kids went already home) but before you can, the usual chirpy and soft voice calls out something you'd never expect you'd hear again.

“Fuck!”

You and Sara stare with wide eyes at each other before you glance at the four year old Ivy, her brows furrowed as one of the toys she was trying to reach fell down on the floor with a loud bang. She seems completely oblivious that whatever she said is bad, her small and neaty hands picking up the toy as she glares at the poor plastic pink car for dolls.

“I got it.” You mouth to Sara, seeing her finger pointing between her and you, her silent way of asking who's going to deal with it.

“Ivy, honey,” you call out to the little girl, her round eyes glancing at you as she sits on the wooden stool taking the car with her as she sets it onto the table where her dolls are sitting.

Should you tell her something? She seems oblivious to the curse word that so freely let out her small mouth. Reminding her and trying to explain to her that she shouldn't be talking like that would just put more attention to it. However, this is not the first time you've heard this word because the same thing happened yesterday. You've no idea where she heard it from, well the most likely option is that she heard it at home. But you also know her father is very serious about language around kids, especially around his own kid to be precise. You mean… stuff like that can happen to anyone. People often curse before they realize they did it, it happened to you a lot – not in front of kids or in your job though.

Did he and his ex-wife maybe get into an argument? Maybe one of them cursed and Ivy obviously heard it.

“What did you say just a moment ago?” you ask her, letting her think about it. Okay, if she doesn't remember you'll let it go and act as if it didn't happen. But if she--

“Fuck,” she shrugs innocently, your eyes widening once more as you look around to see if any of the kids heard her. Luckily, they haven't.

Sara stands nearby, not really hearing your conversation but she definitely heard the word “fuck” coming out of Ivy with no problem. She stares at you, somehow looking both worried and amused at the same time as you take a deep breath.

Oh, fuck. She's not even your kid and you feel your palms getting sweaty. You don't want to cross any lines or interfere with the way she is being raised, you know not many parents appreciate when one of the teachers gets involved. However, it's your job to explain to her certain things when it directly happens in the kindergarten and in front of other kids. The last thing you need is one of the kids to hear her and repeat it after her.

“Ivy, you can't say that word. It's naughty and nice kids don't talk like that,” you start, seeing her tilting her head slightly at you as she thinks about your words for a moment. “I thought you're a nice kid.” you tell her softly, purposely saying it knowing she's always determined to prove that she's nice whenever her dad comes to pick her up and mentions ice-cream. Or even if he asks one of you, the teachers, if she was nice. Ivy is usually the first one to respond which always makes everyone laugh.

She's a good kid. Polite one too. She treats other kids nicely and always shares her toys. So naturally, you're even more surprised to hear her saying such a word that definitely shouldn't belong to the dictionary of a four year old.

“I am!” she insists, frowning as she pouts slightly.

“Well, nice and good kids don't talk like that. It's very naughty.”

“Sorry.” she mumbles apologetically, looking down at her lap.

“I don't want to hear you saying that again, okay? You're a very cute and pretty lady.” you tell her, trying to lighten her sour mood as you tap her cute round nose.

She giggles, nodding as you chuckle at her. “Okay.” she tells you softly once she calms down.

Half an hour later, close to the closing time, Sara informs you Ivy's mother is coming to pick her up as she just parked her car. It doesn't faze you, it's pretty usual for her to come pick up her daughter at this hour. However, even though she's not very nice towards her ex-husband, having bitter remarks which are usually muttered underneath her breath but you – or Sara and Katana – always hear them. She's not trying to mask it that much, even though she thinks she's being sleek with the whole act “I hate my ex-husband”. But she's not a bad mom. She comes this late because she owns a boutique but whenever she sees her daughter, an almost identical copy of her father, she always has a warm smile on her lips. She's nice towards teachers (which obviously includes you as well) and you've never really had any trouble with her.

That can't be said about Ivy's father though.

You know your daily task is to fill up parents about their kids' day and how they behaved, but before Sara can make her way towards the door and open it, you catch her wrist and glance at her nervously.

“Don't say anything about what Ivy said today, please.”

Sara looks a little taken aback by your request, not hiding a mere confusion and probably wonders why are you even asking this of her. It's pretty usual you'd tell whichever of the parents would pick up the kid, the truth. The last time Ivy said clear and soundable “fuck”, you brushed it off after talking to the girls. But now that has happened a second time, you'd usually just have to say it to the parent.

“Are you sure? She should probably know about this.” Sara says, voice quiet and confused.

“Yeah, she should. But she'll just blame Ivy's father for it and the poor kid already listens to that every time she finds something against him. I think her dad will explain this stuff to her better, Ivy listens to him more. We can tell him next week when it's his turn to pick her up.”

Sara is not surprised to hear your reason, she can easily tell the difference of the two parents as well. She's very attentive and knows, even though Ivy loves both her parents, she's way more cheerful when her dad comes to pick her up and he's actually the one that is more strict. Ivy is just a kid and even though she has a good heart and is raised well, she has her own tantrums sometimes. You, Sara and Katana were witnesses to him putting her back in her place whenever she threw a tantrum in the dressing room with his deep and stern voice.

“Okay, I think you're right.” she nods, agreeing with you but before she can say something else, Ivy's mother opens the door and greets you before she calls out to Ivy.

The little girl runs to her and hugs her long legs before she lets go and goes back into the room, cleaning up the toys she played with just a few seconds ago and putting them back to their place. It makes your heart bloom with softness and warmness and when you look at her mother, you see the same look in her eyes as she waits for her daughter, taking her small hand into hers when she finally makes it back to her mother.

The apartment smells delicious when you enter the spacious entryway, a silent curse leaving your mouth as soon as you take off your shoes and step onto a wooden toy that makes your foot ache. Putting away your thin jacket onto the rack, you make your way through the house, following the little rumble sounds and amazing smell of food that makes your mouth water.

You smile as soon as you see him, standing with his back while stirring something on the pot. You make your way towards him, hugging him from the back as he slightly jumps from the sudden touch but smiles once he looks down and sees it's you.

“Hey, love.”

Heart warming at the pet name, you let out a soft “hi” before he turns around and kisses you on the lips, cupping your cheeks for a moment.

“Ivy?” he asks in assurance, causing you to chuckle as you lean against the kitchen counter, seeing him still wearing one of his work attires, a light blue button-up and black slacks.

He must've come home and straight went to prepare dinner for the two of you.

“Hyerim picked her up.” you answer, seeing him nod even though he already knows the answer to that. He's just in his dad's protective and caring mode, he needs assurement.

“Good, how was your day?”

So you chat, watching him cook as he refuses your help whenever you offer yourself. Once the food is ready, you move to the dining room with a few crayons still sitting on top of the table messily as he apologizes and quickly puts them away.

“Sorry, didn't have enough time to make this place clean.” he apologizes, but it only makes you chuckle because he's acting as if you're not spending your free time here every second week.

Throughout the dinner, you talk and eat in a peaceful silence – something you've grown used to as well. Sometimes you wonder how it'd feel like with Ivy's presence here, considering it feels like she is here but in reality she isn't. Her drawings are attached to the fridge and around the house, clearly making her dad a proud one. And her toys are almost everywhere, even though they're neatly placed in the living room.

It makes you miss her, knowing she is probably having a great time with her mom because apparently, she never complains and always talks fondly whenever she comes back home. It only makes you think of what happened today, wondering if by now the little girl didn't listen to you and already said “fuck” again, this time in front of her mother.

“Taehyung?” you ask softly, putting down your fork as you glance at your boyfriend who's just putting a bite into his mouth as he hums in response, eyes set upon you.

“Did you and Hyerim fight by any chance recently?” you ask him, seeing his brows furrowing, the same way like Ivy did today.

“No,” he answers, looking a little puzzled as he thinks it through for a second before answering more confidently. “No, I told you we haven't fought in months. I think she prefers talking behind my back and in front of Ivy's teachers.” he jokes a little, the corner of his lips curving to a slight smirk.

It makes you chuckle and look down at your plate, obviously knowing you're the reason why he knows all of this in the first place. As much as Sara and Katana daydream about him, they wouldn't go as far as telling him such an uncomfortable and private thing, even if it includes him as well. It's impolite.

Perks of him being your boyfriend, so you can tell him anything you want.

You nod along his words, reaching for the glass of wine as you take a decent sip before he keeps his eyes on you, a silent curiosity and interest crossing his face. “Is there a reason why you're asking? Has she said something about me again?”

“Ah, no. She was actually very polite this time...” you trail off, avoiding his eyes for a moment and you've no idea why.

Maybe it's the way he's staring at you with his dark eyes across the table, or the fact that he looks so hot and stern all of a sudden while he analyzes the way you're acting. Obviously, a few months of dating him, he already knows when there's something you're not telling him.

“Come on, love. Tell me, I'm not gonna bite. At least not now.” he smirks, laughing when you exclaim his name and start laughing too, momentarily hiding your face with your hands as you feel the heat rushing to your face.

“Alright,” you breathe out once you calm down, looking him in the eyes. “Ivy said 'fuck' today.”

Taehyung's brows shoot up in surprise, opening his mouth slightly. “She said what?”

“Fuck,” you tell him, even though you know he heard you the first time. “One of the toys fell when she was trying to grab it. I talked to her but obviously, I thought you should know. I didn't say anything to Hyerim, we both know why…” you tell him and he nods, understanding that Hyerim might've overreacted and just put more blame on him than it's necessarily.

“I don't understand… I don't curse in front of her, neither does Hyerim. We're both very careful about that.”

“You never know, it might've slipped. It doesn't really matter who's to blame for this, but she can't speak like that. Thank god none of the kids heard her. This is actually the second time she said it, the first time she said it was a few days ago.”

“What? Why didn't you tell me?” he asks, surprised, not sounding accusingly at all.

“I wanted to tell you in private and since you had Ivy last week, there was no time. I wasn't about to discuss it in a dressing room where other parents were.” you explain.

Taehyung nods understandably, giving you a slight smile in appreciation before he looks a little disappointed by the news as he sighs. “I'll talk to her when she comes back from Hyerim. Where could she possibly hear it from? I don't understand…”

You shrug, not sure what to answer as he thinks about it for a moment, deciding that he has no answer for that and just lets it go for tonight. Shaking his head, he continues eating while you do the same, a casual talk filling the dining room once again while throwing knowing and flirtatious glances at each other.

You often think about what you did in your past life to deserve such a man in your life, to have that privilege of snatching not just one of the hottest men in the world but also the kindest and most attentive boyfriend. It was one year ago when you started working at the kindergarten where you're working till this day. You had been working there barely for a week when a new three year old started attending kindergarten for the first time. You can still remember the way Ivy's big eyes were full of curiosity and fear at the same time, her both hands clutching her father's big one. He stayed for a few minutes, lingering close to the wall as he watched his daughter playing with toys and drawing him a picture. Despite his fond eyes that were filled with nothing but love, you could see him looking worried just as equal as Ivy when the door of the classroom full of other kids opened.

The only difference is, that he waited until his daughter wasn't watching him and was too occupied while drawing him a picture of butterflies, house and other random things that the three year old could think of.

And despite you working there barely a week, you already encountered similar situations with other parents as well. You're not going to lie, he did look slightly intimidating from the moment you first saw him. It's not like he was expressionless or coldly looked around himself, he was quite the opposite. One of the kids brought him a toy and he crouched down to the kid, ruffled his black hair and thanked him with a cute boxy smile which later on, you found Ivy has a very similar smile.

So you approached him, listened to him as he explained that he's probably overreacting but ever since she was born, he was with her most of the time and now is the time for her to come here, so he can work and she can finally attend kindergarten like every other kid. Ever since then, you both chatted a lot whenever he came to pick her up. Nothing too serious and you never crossed any boundaries, especially when he informed you Ivy's mother will pick her up every second week. Later on, when he came to pick up Ivy one day, you assumed they're married but busy to come together to pick her up. You assumed they just came to an arrangement to take turns.

You were surprised – okay, maybe even pleased – to hear that they've been divorced and separated for a year already. You kept your reaction low, just nodding in understatement. You remember the way he subtly smirked at you when you shyly looked away.

Somehow over the months, you both became close – friends maybe. He'd always talk to you about his day while waiting for Ivy to tie her shoes because “she's a big girl and she can do it alone”. Ivy's words, not her father's. He went along with it, taking that time to lean against the kids lockers while chatting to you whenever you had the time.

Until one day he finally grew some balls – Taehyung's words again – and finally asked you out. And the rest is a history, bringing you back to present time as you've been dating for five months now.

Taehyung's broad shoulders and the way he's eye-fucking you is definitely worth of not thinking about history, but get ready for present. He cockily smirks at you, standing above you while you're sprawled on his bed completely naked while he takes the last article of his clothes which happens to be boxers.

Oh, you're definitely lucky.

If only Sara and Katana could see you right now, they'd never believe you've been dating this man the whole time they kept talking about him, or more like thirsting over him. He's more than that though.

There are many things you appreciate about Taehyung, being mature is one of them. Him being older than you, seven years difference to be exact, makes him more mature than any of the boys you were dating previously. There weren't that many but even if there were, you know no one could compete with Taehyung.

Even your friendly and blunt co-workers can't keep their eyes off him whenever it's his turn of the custody. Even when it's not, they talk about him on a daily basis. And apparently giving him a nickname that has been sticking to him for a few months now.

Taehyung is in the middle of rolling a condom down his length when you giggle amusingly as your eyes scrunch. He chuckles, even though he glances at you in confusion wondering why the hell you're giggling all of a sudden.

“What?” he asks, breathing out a chuckle as he glances down at his length and gives himself a few testing tugs. As much as he wants three more kids (apparently – it's something he spilled when you had a date night at his house while drinking lots of wine), you still have a long way to go until you go that route.

“You know that Sara and Katana call you dilf?” you giggle, covering your mouth with your palm while Taehyung's eyebrows shoot up in shock.

For the first time since he has slowly led you to his bedroom and pleasured you with his mouth until you were begging for him to stop and let you breathe for a second, he looks quite shocked and taken aback. It's only now that you see the back of his neck flash as he sheepishly rubs it with his hand.

He's no stranger to the names of your co-workers, he hears about them all the time. However, it's the first time you revealed the nickname they gave him, even though he knows they're thirsting over him. Something you spilled that time on your date night.

But Taehyung is not caught off guard for too long, hovering over you for a second as he pulls you closer to the edge of bed, hands on your ass as he lifts it up. His length pokes you right into your clit causing you to stop giggling as you moan.

“Dilf, is it?” he hums, causing you to nod while silent pleas of him filling you up resounds from your mouth. In times like these, you can barely function and control yourself at the same time.

Taehyung listens to you, guiding his thick length into your wet and tight hole as he enters you with a slow yet shallow thrust. You groan, mouth opening and eyes shutting, falling apart from the single feeling of him stretching you out. You missed him. It's been something over a week since you got to have some alone time with him, which includes a lot of sex of course.

“Do they know this dilf gets to fuck you?” he hums against your neck, causing you to realize he's hovering over you once again as he gently bites into the crook of your neck, slowly thrusting in and out.

“Ah, fuck,” you moan out once he pulls back, grabbing you by your thighs as he hoasts your lower body up to his liking. It's just a matter of seconds before he starts fucking you just like he promised a few minutes ago when you entered his bedroom.

His thick length brushes your wet and tight walls, hitting all the right places as you can't keep your moans silent. Taehyung's eyes are focused on your breasts that bounce with each thrust he makes, eyes glancing down at your stomach to see it bulging thanks to his length inside you.

“Shit, love. You're killing me.” he groans, the sight being one of his weaknesses as it ushers him to pound into you even more.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, Tae…” you whimper, feeling yourself getting close as his nails dig into the meat of your thighs. But the pain is nothing but pleasing and arousing you even more.

Soon enough, you're falling apart and cumming around his thick length that makes him groan, making it harder for him to move inside you. But somehow he does, pounding into you and following you a minute later while he spills into the condom.

Both breathing heavy, you're not surprised when Taehyung falls down on you as you hug him closer while he peppers your neck and chest with kisses. He slowly slips out of you, groaning at the feeling as he forces himself to stand up and dispose of the condom. He tells you he'll be right back, bringing one of his shirts that he without a doubt found in the bathroom. He cleans you up, tossing it down the floor you scoot further to the bed, finally laying down onto his soft pillows. He cuddles to you, tossing a duvet over your naked and warm buddies as he nuzzles to your neck.

“I want to tell Ivy,” he suddenly mumbles, his hands slowly rubbing your stomach under the duvet. “About us, about you.”

That makes you surprised, your heart skipping a beat and causing you to feel excited.

Ivy doesn't know that you're dating her father. It's something you respected from the moment you felt things between you and Taehyung aren't just about the casual talks between a parent and a teacher. From Taehyung's positions, it definitely makes sense that he didn't want to break it to his daughter that he's dating one of her teachers. You both wanted to make sure you're very serious about each other before he breaks the news to her. It makes sense. You're her teacher and even though it won't affect your work or can get you into trouble, you didn't want to be introduced to her as her dad's girlfriend just yet. No one knows about your relationship, that's one of the reasons.

Ivy is a sweet kid but she's still a kid and she would obviously spill the news. You both can't expect the four year old will keep your relationship a secret before you decide to just announce it to the world. You don't know how Hyerim, Taehyung's ex, will react to the news. Even though you don't care that much about her because she has nothing to do with Taehyung, not anymore – she's still Ivy's mother and probably won't have a pleasant reaction.

There are a lot of things you and Taehyung had to think through before you came to the conclusion that this is nice and you want to be in each other's life like this. Your parents know about Taehyung, and so does his parents know about you. But telling Ivy means that you'll be openly dating and it no longer will be a secret, in other words it’s a bigger step than telling your or Taehyung’s parents. This means Sara and Katana will find out eventually too, however you're not worried about that.

They might feel embarrassed that they've been thirsting about your boyfriend this whole time, but it'll be finally your time to laugh at them and see them frustrated.

Taehyung isn't scared of Ivy's reaction, the reason he didn't tell her about the two of you isn't about that. She loves you. Apparently, she talks about you at home too and according to Taehyung, you're her favorite teacher. Teachers shouldn't have a favorite kid but they always do. Your favorite kid is Ivy. Not because you're dating her dad, she's been your favorite from the moment Taehyung went to work and left her there for the first time alone. She came up to you and clutched to your hand, talking to you sweetly as she drew you a picture. The first one she drew in a class was already took by Taehyung as she made sure she gave it to him before he had to depart.

“Are you sure?” you ask, not hiding the smile in your voice that makes Taehyung smile as he kisses your collarbone.

“I've been sure for quite some time,” he tells you softly, “I don't want to hide anymore. She loves you, I love you and I want to spend my time with both of you. I want you to be here when she's home too, I want my both girls here.”

Your heart softens, heart blooming with love and warmness as your fingers play with Taehyung's dark wavy hair.

“I'd be more than happy about that,” you confess, “I feel like it's the right time too.”

Taehyung agrees, lifting his head off your body as he looks at you and purses his lips, silently asking for a kiss. You chuckle, finding him cute and different than from the man that pounded you into his mattress just a moment ago. You kiss him, letting your mouths mold together for a few minutes until you're forced to pull apart to properly breathe.

“I know where Ivy heard the bad word.”

The bad word. That makes you chuckle as you turn to him with an interest in your eyes. “Really?”

“Yeah,” he nods, smirking a little. “From you.”

You open your mouth. “Excuse me? I don't curse in front of her.”

“Uhm, it might not have been completely in front of her, but you know when you curse the most.”

“No, tell me.” you tell him, narrowing your eyes at him.

“When we have sex.” he smirks, causing your mouth to open.

“But--Ivy--”

“You remember the last time when we had sex? I called you over after we both couldn't sleep, Ivy was in her room sleeping back then,” Taehyung starts, causing your heart to stop for a moment as a horrific expression makes a way to your face.

Like Taehyung said, it was one of the nights when you texted and couldn't sleep, the texts becoming slightly explicit and needy which caused Taehyung to call you over. It was the first and only time you sneaked to his house while Ivy was in it too, supposedly soundlessly sleeping in her room while her father fucked you in his own. He assured you she's sleeping and you had to sneak away the next morning before she woke up, like a damn teenager.

You both acted like teenagers that night to be fair. The whole sneaking thing had its own spice though.

“Apparently, the little lovebug was awake or we must've woke her up.” Taehyung says, laughing as he seems amused by the whole situation.

“But--how do you know? Maybe she heard it somewhere else, this doesn't mean anything.” you tell him, not believing your own words too.

Taehyung raises his brow at you, “Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck,” he starts mimics you from that night when he took you from behind, your face heating up right away as you slap him in the chest. “You know how I know that?” he asks, voice amused and cocky which makes you roll your eyes.

“Spill it out.” you tell him, ready to hide behind the duvet but he gently takes it away from you and keeps his hold onto it.

“She asked me the next morning who was at our house. Apparently, she heard some noises.”

Okay, now you certainly look mortified. Taehyung laughs, enjoying the way you squeal in embarrassment.

“And you're telling me that just now?” you exclaim, repeating his words from earlier as he laughs with eyes scrunched shut.

“Well, telling you over a text or in a kindergarten with a bunch of parents and kids around wasn't the best option. I forgot to tell you, to be honest.”

“Oh my god,” you groan, rubbing your forehead in embarrassment. “What did you tell her?”

“That she must've had a bad dream.” Taehyung chuckles causing you to laugh.

“And she believed that?”

“Does it matter?”

No, it doesn't.

Taehyung suddenly cuddles you again, leg slouched over your own as his mouth is on your collarbone against, slowly making his way down to your breast as he starts sucking your nipple. You gasp, looking down at him as he keeps his attention to your nipple before he looks up with a smirk.

“Look at you, teaching my kid a bad word and you haven't even been introduced as my girlfriend.”

“It wasn't on purpose.” you gasp, whimpering when he gently bites onto your breast, chuckling lowly.

“I know,” he adds, assuring you that he's not mad or putting a blame on you. It was your both's fault. If you just waited and weren't horny like teenagers, this wouldn't have happened.

He lets go of your nipple with a loud plop, staring you in the eyes while his hands move down your stomach. You already know where this is heading, soon feeling him between your legs. But before he fully touches you where you're aching for him the most, he licks his lips and bites into them before a loving gaze makes its way to his eyes.

“Good thing I love you.”

[reidsnose]

happy campers

overview: the bau goes on a team building camping trip but reader and spencer spend most of their time together

genre: fluff

a/n: ive been kicking myself for not posting in forever but i think this one is pretty cute! please lmk what yall think :)

masterlist

-

-

the stuffy, eight person suv finally rolled to a stop, the overgrown children that call themselves the bau tumbling out as quickly and gracelessly as possible. Morgan and Reid nearing the end of a 2 and a half minute long slap fight that you happened to be caught directly in the middle of. you looked at jj, pleading to make them stop with her mom powers.

"boys behave or ill ground you both," she sighed, going to help out with taking things out of the trunk.

they immediately stopped, muttering under their breath that the other one started it. but before they could start again, Spencer caught a glance at you. you were taking a deep breath, smiling contently, very clearly happy to get some fresh, forest air. despite being in direct sunlight, your smile was far brighter than anything he'd seen in his whole life.

before he knew it he was being snapped out of his daze and asked to help set up the tents. he was really hoping to have a chance to share a tent with you, like you sometimes had done on cases when hotel rooms were scarce. but he knew that almost everyone wanted a spot in your tent because you're that much fun to be around. Penelope would win, obviously, and he would be paired up with morgan again.

he let out a sigh as he finished up pitching one of the tents, pulling the corner and nailing it into the ground. as he did so, something caught his eye: a pink, round, fat little worm crawled out of the dirt.

his attention was now fully on the worm, ecstatic to see it because he had been reading up on worms for a while. he called morgan and hotch over since they were the closest to him, rambling excitedly all hes learned about them so far. he looked up and could see the disinterest behind their polite smiles. his own smile faltered for a second, until he saw you finishing up pitching a tent.

"im gonna go show y/n. shes gonna love this!" spencer giggled, already walking towards you.

"hey kid i dont know if she-" morgan began.

"reid she might not-" hotch started as well.

but he had already reached you, sticking out his hand and revealing the worm. hotch and morgan looked at each other worriedly, concerned that the tiniest rejection from you, even about something as small as a worm, would tear his heart to pieces.

their faces changed from worry to confusion as they watched a wide grin crack on your face.

"oh! a worm!" you exclaimed gleefully.

they observed as you put your hand out and Spencer dropped the worm in your hand. you watched it wriggle around and would occasionally look up and nod along with his rambling, asking questions and listening intently. hotch and morgan were speechless, knowing full well if they offered a girl they liked a worm, she would not have the same reaction.

you and Spencer started walking back over to the tent, where hotch and morgan tried their best to seem busy. you two were laughing, something about putting the worm back where he found it so it gets home safely. if there was ever any doubt that you and Spencer would be the perfect couple, its completely disintegrated now.

you and Spencer were typically joined at the hip, but after the worm encounter, you two were especially inseparable.

the girls went down by the lake to tan while you and Spencer tried to build a hut out of random sticks and logs you found around the forest. and while the guys were fishing on that same lake, Spencer and you were rock skipping, and he was explaining to you the physics behind it. and you were both scaring away any potential fish for rossi, hotch, and morgan to catch. so you two were banished back into the forest for the time being. when the rest of the team came back, you and him were up in a tree, eating some of the snacks they'd packed, talking and laughing and subconsciously leaning into one another. you didn't need to be a profiler to see the signs. you two were head over heels already, even if you guys didn't know it yet.

after a bonfire full of roasted marshmallows and scary stories, laughs and giggles. it was a wonderful, but tiring night and before you knew it you were getting ready for bed, sharing highlights of the day back and fourth with Penelope.

"i'm picking up on a bit of a pattern," she giggled, wiggling her eyebrows.

you wracked your brain, "what pattern?"

"all of your highlights included a certain adorkable genius."

"what? no we just...he's my best friend so we-cause its fun and i just-" you stammered, feeling your face heat up with every passing second.

"relax my love, i was just teasing," she chuckled, turning over to go to sleep.

"yeah i know. goodnight pen."

"goodnight lovely," she sighed, "but give some thought to lover boy."

you chuckled lightly before whispering to yourself, "trust me i have."

you woke up and checked the time, it was 4:47am but you just could not fall asleep. you crawled out of the tent, grabbing your blanket when you felt the cool morning air rush at you. you didn't want to wake anyone, so you made your way over to the little hill that the suv was parked on, stealing the keys from hotch's bag and crossing to the other side that faced east. the sun would be rising soon, it would be nice to watch; you draped your blanket across your shoulders. you heard footsteps coming from behind you, your blood running cold, immediately assuming the worst.

you turned around and were met with Spencer's sleepy smile. his hair stuck up in all directions and he looked perfectly adorable. you had to resist your urge to give in and kiss him right then and there.

"you scared me!" you whispered, trying to stifle a smile.

"im sorry," he giggled, "why are you up?"

"im not sure i just couldnt fall back asleep. why are you up?" you echoed.

"morgan keeps farting."

you and him let out hearty laughs, quickly covering your mouths as to not wake up the rest of the team.

you faced the car for a second, legs growing tired from standing.

"look how pretty the fogged up windows look," you observed, facing back and fourth between the colorful sky and the muggy version reflecting on the suv. you pressed your hand against the window, leaving a print, "so cold!" you chuckled.

spencer put his hand next your handprint, quickly recoiling, "you werent lying," he laughed, shivering a little.

you looked at the two handprints, his comically larger than yours and you couldnt help but smile to yourself.

"do you want some blanket?" you asked, opening your arms.

"i think im too tall," he frowned, "maybe if i crouch?"

"how about," you dangled the keys infront of your face before opening the trunk of the suv, "front row seats to the sunrise and some blanket."

"that sounds perfect," he smiled, begging his body not to redden his cheeks.

you two crawled into the trunk, draping the blanket across both of your shoulders, being pulled together by the small piece of fabric. you two were completely cuddled together, getting maximum warmth from the blanket and each other's body heat. a comfortable silence floated between you, faint bird songs and the others breathing filling it with peace. you felt your eyelids droop, despite the breathtaking rebirth of the sun happing in front of you. spencer was just so comfortable.

he felt the same way, his head falling to rest on top of yours as sleep pulled at his eyes. he yawned lightly, pulling you closer and breathing you in. you smiled. perfectly content.

about an hour later, hotch woke up, searching frantically for his keys. he ran up to check if the suv was still there, only to be met with your sleeping figures in the open trunk, wrapped up tightly in a blanket, smiles on both of your faces despite being asleep. hotch was good at predicting things, he saw scenarios play out fully before they truly began.

he snapped a picture, knowing it would be put to good use in a few years, he smelled a wedding.

spencer and you spent the drive home smiling like a couple of idiots, grins growing wider each time the sun hit the window just right, revealing your handprints.

-

ultra mega super cool taglist:

@mac99martin @imhreid @spencersmagic @hollydaisy23 @raelady1184 @a-broken-pact @padfootswife @hey-there-angels @star-stuff-in-the-cosmos @sonnydoesrandomshit @averyhotchner @laurakirsten0502 @reidyoulikeabook @rem-ariiana @spencerreid9 @vampire-overlord @takeyourleap-of-faith @spenxerslut @violetspoetic @aperrywilliams @b-a-utiful @eevee0722 @srhxpci @reidemandweep @imdefinitelyfloating @random-human-person @gurkiloni @luvspence @calm-and-doctor @ssavanessa22 @singularityjc

[sweetcherrymoon22]

Headaches In Milan

a/n: so this was definitely later than I meant it to be! Sorry, I totally disappeared for a while, but I'm back now and here to stay! I have posts scheduled for every other day for the next couple of weeks so stay tuned for some good times!!

same universe with Medic!y/n

1.4k (a shortie) fluff, comfort, humor, behind the scenes of Milan movie shooting

tw: headaches?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The planning of this tour and the filming in Milan had been in the works for a very long time. From before we had even left for tour we knew that one of the shows would be filmed and made into a short movie, it was about three months before we left for tour (fourth months before the concert in Milan) that we found out which one exactly was being filmed. Normally, while all the other staff gets worried when the boys are messing around during rehearsals I take it in stride. I never have any issue with them goofing around because I know that in the end they always get the job done and do wonderfully. That is, except for the week leading up to the filmed show. I hadn't expected it to be any different in my mind than any other, but the thing is, even if it was the same as any other show on tour in my mind, the reality was just so much different. 

With the amount of extra work I had to put in so that everything was perfect, not to mention the amount of work I was helping everyone else with and my regular jobs on tour, I was starting to go crazy. The boys had noticed how busy I was a few days before we got to Milan. While they were all enjoying themselves like usual on the bus I was working the entire time. It wasn't too bad just yet though, I was still sure everything would be fine, I wasn't too stressed or concerned, more just busy with all of the different things I was trying to arrange. That all changed once we actually made it to Milan and had three days to set up for the filming of the show. My general busyness turned into sleepless nights staying up working and days full of more work and more stress. By the time we had gotten to the day before the concert, almost everything was set up, but I had barely slept in two days and had only eaten a muffin with my coffee this morning. The stress of it all was starting to get to me and suddenly even the large amount of caffeine I was drinking couldn't keep the raging migraine I felt at bay. I was chewing on my cheek in pain while everyone walked around the venue casually. There were no rehearsals or interviews or anything today, we all agreed that it would be better just to have the day “off” and hang out at the venue, fixing anything we needed to and living for the moment in the calm before the storm. Even though there was no real work to do I still was walking all around the venue through my migraine, looking around and triple checking every bit of equipment I found on my walk. Harry jogged up from behind me and snaked his arms around my waist, placing his head on my shoulder as I rubbed my head. 

“You all right love? I can feel the stress coming off of you.” I moved my hands to be on his and turned around so that my face was in his chest.

 “Stress? What stress?” He laughed and kissed the top of my head before holding me out at arm's length and taking my hand. He could see clearly in my face that I was in pain and his eyebrows knit tightly together. 

“How about you and I go to the bus and take a quick nap, huh? You look like you could use it.” 

“I don't know Haz, there's a lot I have to check and make sure-” he stopped me by pulling me along by the hand towards the bus. 

“Haz really, I don't think-” He stopped pulling me as we entered the part of the venue where our bus is parked and turned around to look at me. He took both of my hands in his again. 

“y/n, look at me. You've done great, you have already triple-checked everything and it's all going to go amazingly, now I can see by the look in your eyes you haven't slept and you probably have a raging migraine so just let me take care of you for once yeah?” I sighed but let him lead me onto the bus. He was right, I had checked everything dozens of times and I did have a migraine. I sat down on the couch in the main part of the bus and Haz went to get me a glass of water and some painkillers. By the time he got back to me with both in hand, I felt like my head was about to explode. All the stress and exhaustion and pain of the past week finally got to me. Seconds after I took the pills I let out a tear. 

“Hey, hey, what's wrong?” I started blubbering like a baby into his chest. 

“My head hurts, and I'm tired, and I'm stressed, and there is so much to do and-” I went on and on for a few minutes before I finally calmed down. I wasn't crying anymore, though I had practically thrown myself into Harry. My head still hurt horribly, the painkillers hadn't even made a dent. 

“What can I do love?” he asked me softly and stroked my hair. I shrugged into him. 

“I'm so tired Haz, but I can't sleep because my damn head hurts so bad.” he continued to run his hands through my hair and then he moved so that we were laying down on the couch, I was curled into his chest and he wrapped his arms around me, placing kisses on my forehead. He kept on stroking my hair for about an hour but still, I couldn't fall asleep because of how much my head hurt. I was crying again now, not dramatically like before, just a constant stream of silent tears because I was so tired and my head hurt so much. Finally, Harry decided to do his last-ditch effort at helping me go to sleep. He took off his shirt so that my face was now flush against his chest, he placed my weighted blanket over the two of us, had one hand rubbing my back, the other stroking my hair, and then he began to sing. It wasn't something I had heard before. Might have just been something he was making up on the spot. I couldn't tell you what the words were but it had a sweet soft melody. It still took a little bit of that for me to fall asleep but when I did he could feel the tension leave my body and my breaths slow. He still didn't stop stroking my hair or singing, he kept going just in case it would wake me if he stopped. 

When the boys walked in an hour later to grab some things from the bus Harry frantically waved one hand at them, trying to get them off the bus. Finally, one of them saw me asleep under the big blanket, clinging to Harry's bare chest, and told the others to shut up. 

“Took me nearly three full hours to get her to sleep!” Harry whispered to them as they all sat down on the couch opposite us. 

“Jesus mate what was she on, cocaine?” Louis laughed and a few of the other boys along with him.

 “Oi! She's been working her adorable little ass off so that everything goes good for our dumb asses tomorrow night.” Harry said louder than he meant to and then when I stirred a little though not waking up he hummed a little of the song from before.

 “Just behave now, would you? At least until tomorrow night?” they all nodded at him. 

“Sorry little las.” Louis whispered to me even though I was asleep. The other boys all left the bus quietly, promising to behave themselves and not cause any more stress for me. Eventually, even though it was early we didn't have to get up tomorrow Harry decided that my sleep just looked so comfortable he might try it himself. He pulled me closer to him and placed his head on top of mine and within minutes the both of us were passed out in the parking lot of the biggest venue we had ever been to. But it was still just the same old us, asleep on the same old bus, the only difference being a bit of a headache.

[bluejayblueskies]

oh if you did a little something for jonmartin and "hiding their face in the other’s neck" i would be so 🥺💕

touches prompt list

a little post-circus kidnapping hurt/comfort! cw for wounds/injury, mild blood, mentions of non-consensual touching, and mentions of kidnapping

.

There is a stranger’s elbow digging into Jon’s side.

He shifts from one foot to the other, trying to relieve some of the pressure on his side while surreptitiously giving the stranger a glare that he hopes adequately conveys his dislike of the current situation. The tube is packed, as it always is at this time of day, and there are… so many strange hands. An elbow, at least, is better than the hand that had pressed to his back as the individual it belonged to had instinctively tried to maintain their balance.

After all, Nikola didn’t touch him with her elbows.

Jon doesn’t want to think about that. He doesn’t want to think about any of it. He wants to lie down in a soft bed and get his first good night’s sleep in a month and finally have the space to process. Alone.

Instead, Martin stands next to him on the train. His hand rests just beneath Jon’s where it grips one of the metal poles, and Martin takes care not to brush against him despite how crowded the car is. Jon considered telling Martin, when they first got on the tube, that it was okay—that his touch would be… well, it wouldn’t be bad. But he’d stayed silent, allowing Martin to cultivate a careful space between them. They’ve been silent for the past twenty minutes as they’ve passed by station after station on their way to Martin’s flat in Brixton.

“I have a flat,” Jon had said uncomprehendingly when Martin had suggested (or rather, gently begged) that Jon come back to his flat with him. “It’s, um. It’s nice. Spacious. S-sturdy locks.”

“You… you don’t have to come if you don’t want to,” Martin had said, sounding and looking very much like he wished Jon would anyway.

“I’m fine.” Jon was not fine. But he could be fine until he got back to his flat. It was always good to have a short-term goal.

Martin gave him a look that clearly said that he thought Jon was full of shit. Jon was, but it was still unnecessary. He was just trying to keep it together. What did Martin want—him sobbing and crumpling to the floor right here in the Archives? No, that wouldn’t do at all.

“You were kidnapped. Twice now. I really don’t want it to happen a third time. Besides, I…” Martin trailed off and fluttered his hands at his sides. “I—I should take a look at your hand. And your, um. Wrists.”

Jon looked down at his arms. They were, indeed, quite red and raw and scabbed over and likely to scar. Nikola had been irritated when she’d seen that he’d been tied up so tightly, but she’d decided there was nothing to be done about it. She would just ‘make do with what she had.’ And, well. She had never stopped Breekon and Hope when they’d cinched the ropes just a little bit tighter each time.

“I have first aid supplies in my flat,” Jon lied. He was fairly certain that he had a backpack of What the Ghost merchandise and a single mattress to his name at the moment. “I can take care of it.”

“So can I.” Martin took a deep breath. “I just… I don’t want to see you hurt, Jon.” His cheeks were flushed a rosy pink, and he looked over Jon’s shoulder at the wall behind him. “J-just for tonight, at least? I want…” Martin swallowed. “I want to make sure you’re safe.”

And then Martin had turned those lovely blue eyes to his, and, well. Here they are.

Jon adds 24 hours onto his mental countdown of the time he has left until he’s allowed to break down and tells himself that he can manage. It’s… important to have long-term goals as well. He splits this one into steps.

Step one: get to Martin’s flat without crying. He achieves this easily enough. He finally escapes the cloying presence of strangers as Martin’s door shuts behind them, and then it’s blissfully quiet. Martin flips on a light, illuminating the space in pale yellow. It’s a little bit messy but otherwise spartan. The walls are painted a dull eggshell white, the floor made of cheap lino. Martin sits Jon down on the couch and disappears into the bathroom. Jon stares at the wall and focuses on breathing evenly and thinking about anything other than how smooth his skin feels when he slowly rubs his fingers together.

Step two: let Martin bandage his wounds without crying. This is… more challenging, if only because it hurts. Martin apologizes profusely as he wets a cotton ball with isopropyl alcohol and gently cleans the inflamed areas. Jon sucks his bottom lip between his teeth and bites down, focusing on anything other than the stinging, burning sensation in his wrists and hands. Funny—he’d thought that at this point, he would be used to the pain, but he’s not. All he knows now is what to expect.

Martin carefully wraps his hand and wrists in bandages. For a moment after he’s done, he delicately holds Jon’s hands in his like they’re porcelain. His hands are warm and soft, and Jon imagines how lovely they would feel against his cheeks. He thinks briefly that Martin is going to raise his unbandaged hand to his lips and lay a kiss across the back of it, but Martin doesn’t. Instead, he sets Jon’s hands back in his lap and stands, mumbling that he’s going to go make some tea.

Jon scrubs his uninjured hand across his eyes, just once.

Step three: sit on the couch with Martin and drink tea without crying. Martin presses a mug of steaming chamomile into his good hand and lays a plate of biscuits between them. “Th-they’re your favorite,” Martin says with a small, nervous laugh, like Jon’s not already staring at the plate with something choked sitting in the back of his throat. “I—I figured you probably haven’t really eaten today, and… I don’t really know what you’ve eaten lately. So, um. Yeah.”

Jon thinks of the things that Nikola had called food, then chooses not to think of them at all. He tucks the memory into a box next to cold hands and exposed skin and burning ropes and slams the lid before it can all come spilling back out again. “Thank you,” he says earnestly. He gingerly takes a biscuit in his stiff, aching hand that hasn’t had the time to heal properly and probably won’t get the chance to do so in the future and pops it into his mouth whole so he doesn’t get crumbs on Martin’s couch.

Step four: eat a biscuit that tastes like the best biscuit you’ve ever had and is the first palatable food you’ve had in weeks without crying.

“Jon?”

Jon blinks and comes back to himself. He’s staring blankly at Martin’s face, at eyebrows folded in concern and mouth curled into a small frown. Martin’s freckles are smudged into smears of tan, and the lines of his jaw waver like a mirage in front of Jon’s eyes. That’s odd, Jon thinks. Then, he feels something wet hit the top of his cheek.

Oh, no.

Quickly, Jon reaches up and scrubs the tears away from his eyes. As soon as he lowers his hand, more spring up in their place. He curses and sets his mug of tea down heavily on the table, taking one more look at Martin—whose eyes are now wide with worry—before turning away and attempting to pull himself together.

Step five: stop crying. Stop crying. Stop crying.

(Stop crying, his grandmother says as he stands in the living room, hands and knees dirty and hair a mess. He’s managing to say words between his sobs, words like book and stole and spider. She’s frowning at him, but her voice is still patient and calm when she says, You’re not making any sense, Jonathan. Stop crying, please, and speak clearly. You had a nightmare?)

“Jon, what’s—” Martin catches himself, which Jon is thankful for. He thinks that if Martin had finished that question—asked him what’s wrong—Jon wouldn’t have been able to stop himself from saying, what isn’t? “What can I do to help?” he says instead, a hand hovering carefully in the air between them like he doesn’t know if he’s allowed to touch Jon or not.

“Don’t look,” Jon manages to say. He immediately feels ridiculous and follows with a quick: “S-sorry, it’s—I don’t k-know how to—I’m not—I’m n-not good at—”

“I’m not looking,” Martin says softly.

Jon cuts off, takes a breath, and turns his head back toward Martin. True to his word, Martin has his eyes closed, though his hand remains in the air between them. Jon presses his good hand to his mouth for a moment to hide how the sight rips a new, more ragged sob out of him. Then, tentatively, he reaches forward and takes Martin’s hand.

Martin inhales sharply. Jon almost lets go, but Martin curls his fingers around Jon’s hand and squeezes. He holds Jon’s hand tightly yet so achingly softly, and Jon could weep. (Or rather, is weeping.)

“Can I hug you?” Martin says abruptly, like he’d been fighting an internal battle about whether or not to say it and had just lost. His cheeks darken, but he doesn’t say anything else or take it back. His jaw shifts as he pinches his lips together and worries them back and forth.

Jon is… not the kind of person who initiates or seeks out hugs. He always makes them too stiff, or he holds on just a bit too long and makes them awkward, or he doesn’t know what to do with his hands and ends up just dangling them uselessly in the air. He’s also never really seen the point of them if he’s being honest. As a form of greeting, surely handshakes or waves or head nods get the point across just fine. Right now, though, there is truly nothing in the world that Jon thinks would make him feel safer than having Martin’s arms around him.

Jon nods, then remembers that Martin can’t see him and whispers, in as composed a voice as he can muster: “Please.”

Step six: hug Martin Blackwood without falling apart completely.

Martin’s arms are soft and warm around him. His chest is flush with Jon’s, and he’s holding him so close that Jon is practically on Martin’s lap. All Jon can think is that it’s been so long since he’s been held by something not made of sawdust or plastic. He grips the back of Martin’s jumper with lotion-soft hands and cries tears that have been collecting for a month into the fabric as he buries his face in Martin’s neck. Martin’s hands rub large circles across Jon’s back, and he’s whispering gentle words into Jon’s ear. Things about safe and okay and time and here.

By the time Jon feels thoroughly wrung dry, his cheeks are sticky and his head is throbbing and he’s desperately in need of a glass of water. He takes a few deep breaths, then carefully extracts himself from Martin’s arms. Martin lets him go easily, though his hands remain resting lightly on Jon’s elbows as if he can’t bear to let him go completely.

Jon thinks he knows the feeling.

Martin’s eyes are still closed, and Jon is hit with such a swell of affection he can hardly breathe around it. “Y-you can open your eyes,” he says, a bit sheepishly. Martin does, and if he’s affected by the state of Jon’s face, he doesn’t show any indication of it. “Sorry,” Jon mumbles, twisting his ring—now on his left middle finger instead of his right—around and around mindlessly. “I just…”

“You don’t have to explain yourself, Jon.” Martin squeezes Jon’s elbows gently. “I understand. Any time you need me to look away, I will. Okay? I just…” He takes a breath. “I’ll always be here. F-for you when you need me.”

If Jon weren’t thoroughly out of tears, that would make his eyes water. Instead, he nods and offers a small, weak smile. “I know. Thank you, Martin. It… just. Thank you.”

Step seven: fall asleep safe against Martin’s side in the bed that he insists is big enough for two, face pressed into Martin’s neck once again and hands curled loosely in Martin’s sleep shirt.

He’s so drained by the time they’re there, so wrung-out and empty and relaxed, that he manages to do so almost immediately. He thinks he hears Martin murmur, “Sleep well, love,” as he drifts off. But it disappears into the fuzzy border between sleep and wakefulness, slipping from Jon’s mind entirely as he fades to black.

[c-is-for-circinate]

As promised: let's talk Hades, and how acts of abuse can create toxic environments for everyone around them, and also how people react to those environments--and to them being disrupted.

(For reference, I have just kicked Theseus's ass for the first time, it was exactly as satisfying as it was intended to be, and then I got predictably slaughtered a couple of chambers into Styx. Spoilers for everything through that point, but please no spoilers in reblogs/comments for anything after that!) Also, TW for a whole lot of discussion of abuse, particularly verbal and emotional abuse, and abusive familyworkplace dynamics.

Okay, so. To start out with, Hades is an abusive parent. He engages in innumerable acts of verbal and emotional abuse towards his son, because yep, that's what you call it when a parent constantly berates and belittles their kid for every perceived failure, including the ones the parent themselves could have prevented. Sometimes especially the ones the parent could have prevented. Zagreus failed at his office clerk job because Hades refused to teach him how to do it and then blamed him for not already knowing how. Cerberus tore up the lounge because Hades, who was actually there, chose not to stop him. Hades created, possibly deliberately, and then took full advantage of every opportunity he saw to insult and demean his kid, and the clerk job flashback shows us that he was doing so even before the escape attempts started. I'm pretty sure we're all on the same page here, but: yep, that all constitutes abuse, even if they're gods. Even if Hades has reasons for Being Like That. Even if you think Zagreus seems okay and unharmed by it (which: repeatedly throwing yourself into a gauntlet of violence that inevitably ends in your own pain and death because you're so desperate to escape home, not actually an indicator of someone who's okay). We all good on that?

Cool. Because I'm not really here to talk about how Hades' abuse directly impacts Zagreus right now (although there's for sure an essay in that too). I'm thinking about how it impacts everybody else.

Hades isn't as obviously unreasonable with anybody else in his kingdom the way he is with his kid. When we see him lecture somebody else, it's usually for an actual failure to do their job: Hypnos for literally falling asleep on the job and not doing anything that was assigned to him, Megaera for letting us past her so many time, Orpheus for being a court bard who refuses to sing. His attitude is super confrontational and unpleasant, but on the surface it doesn't necessarily look as fucked-up. Thing is, though, whether any individual act of aggression towards an employee/family member is justified or not (I would generally argue 'not', because aggression towards employees/family members is, y'know, not justifiable)--it's not about the individual acts. It's about the entire cultivated atmosphere of toxicity and abuse.

One of the very first things Meg ever says to us is, "I'd rather be on your bad side than his." Up until that point, we've got no reason to believe Meg has any history whatsoever of fucking up at her job. In fact, we've got plenty of reason to believe she's good at it. She's fiercely proud of it, she's frequently Employee Of The [Time Period], and we've apparently never even met her sisters because she handles her shit herself. But she's still scared of Hades. Dusa, who is an anxious wreck at all times because oh god what if she gets fired what if she gets fired what if she gets fired, in spite of apparently being absolutely exemplary at her job, is scared of Hades. Every single shade in the Hall is clearly terrified of Hades, and it's not because of what he's done to each of them. It's what they've seen him do to other people.

Which is how toxic environments work, whether they're work environments or families. The Court of Hades is of course both, always, with the bonus hell layer of you can't quit even if you DIE. An abuser in authority doesn't have to target you in order to make you feel scared, cowed, and desperate to please them. Humans (and gods who are basically extra-powerful humans) are good at learning by example. The residents of the Court get the picture.

So this Court is a minefield--and everyone except Zagreus is very good at tiptoeing around mines. We see it in Meg, so desperate to do her job well. We see that Hypnos very clearly does not give a shit about anything, but he still makes sure to have a list of excuses ready if/when Hades ever confronts him about failure to do his job, just in case. We see it when Achilles tells us that my ability to help you is constrained by the authority your father gives me, or whatever the line was sixty runs ago when he couldn't let me into locked chambers. The system, such as it is, works, and if Nyx talks to Hades as little as possible, if Thanatos avoids the Court entirely, if Achilles treads very carefully and knows how to keep his head down--well that's just the system, right? That's just how things are.

Even Zagreus seems to have had a role in that system as the court fuckup. He's the kid who didn't have a real job or purpose. He could take the focus of Hades' generalized, day-to-day ire off of everyone else, without triggering some of the more direct and violent ire because the work he was doing didn't really matter (a LOT of Hades' rage-triggers seem to be related to job performance, which means that the people with real jobs are of course the most at risk). And he could do so "safely" (big emphasis on the quotation marks there) because he alone of the court is Hades' actual kid, who's Prince of the Underworld no matter how much he fucks up. If one of Nyx's other kids gets something really really wrong, she might be able to protect them from some consequences, but Hades doesn't have any layer of supposed parental affection holding him back from getting violently furious about it. Zagreus gets a nice bedroom and the abuse is limited to words rather than divine power, and Hades is a dick to everyone but he only occasionally condemns people to eternities of torture, and only for good reasons like refusing to sing when your job is to be court bard, so it's fine, everybody's fine, everything's totally fine, right?

Except it's not fine when everybody is so clearly worried about anything going wrong. And it's especially not fine for Zagreus, who's the person to finally say no. He's leaving, for his own sake, because he deserves better and he's finally convinced he can have it. And that turns the whole system into disarray.

I am endlessly fascinated by the ways this game portrays different characters reacting to this upheaval in their carefully-mapped minefield. It's different for authority figures and peers and servants, different based on how people are positioned in the house under Hades' rule, and it's so spot-on and I love it.

Nyx, for instance, is absolutely calm about the whole thing, because Nyx has power. Hades can't hurt her. Hades can't even really do much against her children, not when Hypnos and Thanatos are gods in their own right. Yes, Hades rules the kingdom, but Nyx owns the land, and she gives no shits about his rages. And it's interesting, too, to see the lines she doesn't draw. The deal seems to be that Hades doesn't fuck with her, and doesn't outright threaten her kids (because Hypnos is bad at his job, demonstrably so, and Hades hasn't ruined him yet), and she doesn't interfere with the way he treats the people around him. She gives Zagreus advice and support and the mirror, but she also doesn't take a direct stand against Hades. He can't hurt her, but he could make life...difficult. She's protected, her position in the minefield is more of a safe viewing platform than slogging through the middle of it, but the mines are still there.

And then we have Achilles, who is one of my favorite characters in the whole game because of how he reacts to this whole situation. Achilles, like Nyx, is so supportive. Every single time you see him he has something encouraging to say. He gives us his Codex, secretly finds us weapons, trained us for years, clearly wants us to succeed. And still he's limited, not necessarily out of fear for himself (though he has to be scared for himself, he knows what Hades does to people who anger him), but out of concern that if he gives Zagreus too much help in one way, he won't be able to provide help at all later. He's still so careful.

Achilles and Nyx are so fucking important to this story because they're the only authority figures Zagreus really has in his life except for his father, and they are so supportive. They're what keep this story from being a nightmare of psychological horror and depression. They can't stop the pressure from Hades and this life in his house being miserable for Zag, but they can give us hope, remind us that Zagreus is still loved. And they have such an incredibly important role when it comes to guilt, which is one of the biggest ways toxic systems maintain themselves.

If Zagreus leaves, what happens to everybody else? Who takes Hades' wrath then? Who becomes court scapegoat if he's not there, and also, who gets punished for his escape? These questions matter, and we see him worry about it! He asks Nyx and Achilles both, is it going to be okay that you're helping me, are you going to be alright, will my father hurt you for this? And they are both so firm about telling him no. No, I will be fine. See, here's the list of reasons about why I'm going to be fine, why my position in this minefield is secure. They make a point of telling us that it's fine, that we do not need to hold ourself back from getting out of this abusive situation for their sake. That is instrumental in Zagreus's ability to keep making these escape attempts without feeling too guilty and worried and selfish to go on. (Another thing that's actually really important in setting up that dynamic--we see that Hades cares about Cerberus, even if he's using him as a pawn against us, and Cerberus seems to be the one figure in court who Hades doesn't get mad at. The dog isn't at risk, and that is really essential in keeping the story from getting too grim.) These people who we care about refuse to let themselves be held hostage to secure our good behavior.

It's also really useful for raising the stakes later in the story--we see Hades arguing with Nyx once or twice, and we see Zagreus feeling guilty about it, but it's also a sign that we're making enough progress to piss him off. After I finally made it out of Elysium on my last run, I came home to find him furious with Achilles in a way that actually makes me nervous, because Achilles does not have nearly as much security in his position as he says he does. (Achilles is such a good teacher/authority figure, because he knows goddamn well what Hades could do to him, and still refuses to let fear for his own situation stop him from helping the abused kid under his care escape his. And no, not everybody has the capacity to do that, but it matters so much coming from the guy who helped raise us. It matters so much. I do not even have the words for how much.)

It's also no mistake that many of the people we find supporting us along our journey are either the people with the most power in their immediate environment, or the least. Sisyphus helps us because what more could they do to me than this? Orpheus is a little wild around the eyes and somewhat disconnected from reality, and he wishes us the best because someone should get what they want and also he no longer gives a single fuck what happens to him. Eurydice has her own cozy little corner of Asphodel, as safe from Hades' rage as anybody anywhere in his realm because she's tucked in such an out-of-the-way middle place she's outside his notice. Dusa is so scared of everything anyway that, crush aside, she isn't any more threatened by us escaping than she is just by her everyday life here. Charon is unfathomable and unstoppable; Skelly literally exists to be a punching bag, and yet he also seems basically immune to pain, no matter what we do to him. There's no threat from Hades there.

So the people most at risk when I flip the world on its ear are the ones who have so much standing that they have something to lose, but not enough to protect them from losing it. Which of course brings us to Than and Meg--who are, of course, the two people who also seem by far the most upset by my attempts to leave.

As authority figures, Nyx and Achilles are constantly reinforcing the message that it's Hades' fault, not ours, if they or anybody else get caught in the crossfire of his wrath. I'm doing what I'm supposed to be doing, and it's not my guilt to bear. From Megaera and Thanatos, we get the opposite message--I am fucking with things, I am hurting people, and I need to stop. Zagreus isn't just abandoning them, as a friend or brother or lover or all of the above they're Greek gods who even knows. He's betraying them. They were in this together, as friends or lovers or whatever, but now Zagreus is sending earthquakes through the minefield they both still have to stand in. He is about to capsize this boat in the middle of a thunderstorm, he is fucking with the system, and they're the ones who are going to get most hurt.

I'm so curious how this is going to work for Than, who out of everyone we meet holds the closest role to Nyx's in terms of being sheltered from Hades' wrath. He's the guy who gets to leave, after all, even though he always has to come back. I've seen the least of him out of anybody so far because it took forever for me to get to Elysium, but two things really stand out and I'm so interested to see where they go. One, he really genuinely does care about Zagreus. He wants us safe, he wants us unhurt, the accessory he gives us only grants its bonus if we clear a room without taking injury, he keeps showing up to help. And two, he wants us to give up and go back and recognize how good we had it. Which is SO fucking interesting, considering how miserable Zagreus so clearly was, and how legitimate his reasons for being miserable were.

It makes me wonder so much about Than's standards for comparison. Does he know something we don't about what's waiting for us on the surface, something that might theoretically hurt Zagreus even more than staying down below? Has his life, which apparently allows him more freedom than anybody else in the Court, sucked horribly in ways we haven't seen, and that's why he spends so little time there in the first place? Either of those things is plausible, both of those things are plausible, and yet either one leads to this sense of patronizing, because he refuses to simply tell us. If something terrible is awaiting us, don't give us vague warnings, tell us what it is and let us decide for ourself! If you're fucking jealous because we might get out entirely and you're still stuck coming back here, say so. If you're worried about your mom--and he does bring her up, how could Zagreus turn his back on her like that, does seem to worry for her--then let's have an actual conversation about how many times she has insisted I do this and also how much I love her.

And, right, it's clear that a lot of Thanatos being upset is simply, you were going to leave me without even saying goodbye, you want to leave ME, which is understandable! But, like, he is demonstrably the one god who gets to visit the surface. He's the one person we actually COULD expect to see again. And he is absolutely also upset because there's an Order To Things, and we're fucking it up. We used to be his careless callow reckless friend who could talk back to Hades and get away with it, and now we're not, and everything is changing and we might leave him altogether, and we might leave him alone in that court without us, and he hates it.

Is it a short-sighted, selfish fear on his part? Yes, absolutely. Even if he's not scared of Hades on his own behalf, he is still frightened by what happens if we upset this system--and maybe it's the sanctity of a much bigger system than the Underworld that he's worried about! Maybe it's the whole divine and cosmic order. Whatever system he wants so badly to protect is enabling the abuse Zagreus has been dealing with for however-long he's been alive. Whatever system he wants so badly to protect OUGHT to be overturned, or at least shaken up. But this is what toxic systems DO. They convince the people within them that they have to be maintained, that a broken system that hurts the people within it is far better than no system at all, that changing the world is too scary and too dangerous. And Thanatos wants his whatever-Zagreus-is-to-him to be there, because he loves him and also because that's how the world works, and those things are all tangled up in one another, and that is how relationships are in a messed-up family like this so therefore I love it.

And Meg. Meg, the best for last, my dear, beautiful, furious, bitter, scared angry tired girl. I adore her. I am absolutely never going to date her, because the thing Zagreus needs most in his life hurts her, more directly than anybody else in the story, and that sucks, and it's not Zag's fault but they still shouldn't be together. Meg has taken more injury from this situation than anyone, quite literally as well as metaphorically, and it's not her fault any more than it's ours, but oh boy it has made her lash out and it's awful and it's perfect.

Meg's place in the Court of Hades is unique because she's not dead, not a mortal, not anything other than a god--but she's also not family. Nyx is not her mother. She's very much part of this system, she and her two sisters belong to Hades-the-realm and therefore also Hades-the-king, she can't leave, but she also doesn't have that protection of Nyx watching out for her in the same way. She's not royalty. She and her sisters (if you ask Hesiod instead of Virgil, which seems to be the interpretation the game's going with here) sprang from the blood of maimed Uranus at the same time as Aphrodite, but fuck knows Aphrodite isn't claiming them as siblings. And she can't be fired, exactly, but she sure can be demoted, and she sure can be made miserable in her job. Meg is vulnerable in a way very few people in Hades' employ are. She's a lot harder to do away with than any one random shade, but she's also a lot harder to miss blending in with a crowd.

What's more, she's the one person in this whole mess who is specifically tasked with stopping us from leaving. Hypnos isn't ordered to put us to sleep and keep us in our room. Thanatos can't be compelled or punished if he doesn't hunt us down. Achilles isn't told to lock us up and keep the keys. Meg is the one stationed at the doorway to Tartarus to keep us in. Meg is the one who gets in trouble when we leave. Meg (who Hades knows goddamn well Zagreus cares for, or cared for, who he absolutely knows we used to date) is the one who has to fight us again and again and again. And she's the one who keeps dying.

Again, it's this incredibly fucked-up guilt/hostage situation deliberately designed to keep people from fleeing abusive situations. Meg's insistence on fighting us now puts Zagreus in the position of having to hurt her himself again and again. Now suddenly we're the ones sticking a sword in our ex-girlfriend. Now suddenly someone can point to our desire to leave, to flee, to escape, and say, how selfish. How cruel. How terrible of us to want to go, when we're even willing to hurt the people we love to do it.

Except, right: Hades is the one who demands Meg stand there and stop us. Hades is the one who puts both of us in that position. Meg is also in an abusive situation, and she's willing to hurt us to protect herself. "I'd rather be on your bad side than your father's." It's easy to blame her at the start for being complicit, for being a tool of our father's abuse, for being on his side. It gets harder as the game goes on. I've killed her so many times. There's no way for her to beat me. She knows at this point that she can't beat me. She still fights, every single time, still throws herself upon that spike, not because she thinks she has any chance of stopping me but because she is so damn scared of what will happen if she doesn't try.

In fact, Meg's the one person we have actually seen face consequences for our actions so far, instead of just facing the threat of them. Her sisters are here. Her sisters, who she clearly does not want here, who are wild and violent and who she does not want in her life or anywhere near her, let alone near the job she takes so much pride in. She gets to deal with them now. (Hades doesn't have to deal with them. They're still not allowed in his court. But Meg does.) She gets stabbed, and bludgeoned, and shot, and lightning-struck, and poisoned, and every other thing we do to her. Thanatos doesn't. Nyx and Achilles and Hypnos don't. Bug Meg? Oh yes. Meg pays.

And yes, ok, she is complicit in this system. Everybody is complicit in this system. Zagreus who's trying to escape on his own behalf instead of overthrowing his father for the sake of everyone he'd otherwise be leaving behind is complicit in this system. Pointing fingers and pulling strings of who's more at fault? and who do we blame for this? is exactly how this sort of system perpetuates itself. Your sister always talked back at the dinner table and put everyone in an even worse and more violent mood. Your coworker refuses to work more than forty hours a week so now you have to take overtime to pick up their slack. You're enabling your dad by asking your sister to shut up, you're enabling your employer by working as hard as you do so you don't get fired, everyone's at fault, everyone's to blame, everyone is--

It's not everyone. It's Hades. It's Hades at the root of everything, and probably something big and institutional and fucked-up even beyond him. But even if everyone down in this Underworld does have to be trapped here forever, even if he's trapped here forever, Hades is neither challenging the system that put them here nor trying to make that fate better for anyone else stuck with him. He's just created an entire kingdom of backbiting and misery and people who can either go along with his whims or suffer the consequences.

At this point in the game, Meg is so fucking tired. Every time we run into her in the lounge, hunched over a table, the venom in her voice when she tells us "Do I look like I have anything to say to you?" is so bitter and so exhausted. There was a system, and she knew her place in the system, and it was a system divinely ordered by the gods themselves, and sure it was cruel but that's the literal will of the universe as far as she knows it. She had a role, and her role was vengeance and punishment and violence against those who'd committed the most egregious of sins in life, and there was a point to it, she was the divine deterrent to convince people not to do those things, and that was just, and that was right. The GODS THEMSELVES said so. How do you argue with that? You can't possibly argue with that!

And Zagreus is arguing with that. In trying to leave, he's questioning the unbreakable rule that nothing in the Underworld ever gets to leave it. In disobeying his father to do so, he's questioning the unbreakable rule that what the gods say is LAW. He's breaking everything.

And of course he's not trying to do any of that. He's not trying to destabilize the system at all. He's just trying to get himself out of it, to a place where he feels like he belongs and maybe a parent who's slightly nicer to him than this one. But toxic systems like this one break when the people within them have access to another option. When the kids find a way to actually leave, and not answer the phone, and not come home for holidays, and not deal with it any more. When the employees have the economic freedom to quit. When opportunities granted by education, money, social support, etc etc etc, show up and give people a choice. Even if the option is only ever for Zagreus--he's demonstrating that an option exists. Which is, of course, the one thing the system cannot ever allow.

I really like this game.

[lucy90712]

cravings/mood swings (pregnancy series)

Series masterlist

George:

The hormones from pregnancy have made me an entirely different person at times which was a huge shock to both me and George when they first started to hit because I've always been pretty good with my emotions and hormones even when on my period. To me it isn't as bad because I only notice after my mood swings but poor George has to deal with me during.

George came down the stairs after filming a video and came to join me sat on the sofa. I was eating salty crisps (chips) some of which George stole as he sat down, this really set off my hormones for whatever reason and I looked at him with just pure anger that he would even dare to steal my food that I had been craving.

"George what the fuck I wanted those" I almost shouted

"I'm sorry love I didn't mean to I can get you more if you want them" he said panicked slightly

I gave no reaction to what George said as I came down from my rage because I realised I was being way too over the top. I always feel awful when I yell at George because he doesn't deserve it at all but he just happens to be around all the time so he's the one who bares the brunt of all my emotions. I apologised to George and gave him some of my crisps to make up for it and we cuddled on the sofa for a bit.

Later in the evening George was showing me cute videos he has of cat from when he was in his office which were just so adorable and made me so incredibly happy but then the sadness came over and tears started to fall down my face.

"Hey what's wrong?" George asked

"It's just so cute like how can one small animal be so cute" I sobbed

He comforted me and we spent the rest of the evening doing things that didn't provoke any emotions in me.

Dream:

My cravings have been very strong though my pregnancy so far which is a combination of normal things and weird concoctions just whatever I was feeling in that exact moment and I mean that exact moment. My cravings are things that have to be satisfied within the hour or else it's too late and I get over it.

It's about 10pm and I'm just chilling waiting for Clay to get out the shower so we can watch the office together. At that exact moment a craving for pickles came over me, its not a craving I've had before but its one that I know is kind of common. I checked all the cupboards and fridge to see if we had any but we didn't which made me quite sad.

Clay came down the stairs to see me staring at the empty cupboard with a few tears in my eyes. He came over to me looking at what I was before becoming very confused at what exactly was going through my mind clearly wondering if I was going a bit insane.

"Is everything alright?" He asked

"We don't have any pickles" I whined

"Do you want me to go and get you some?" He asked

I nodded my head and we went to the car to drive to the store to go buy pickles mainly because I didn't want to be left alone. Clay actually went into the store while I stayed in the car because he didn't want me getting cold but he soon came back with two jars of pickles just incase I wanted more another day.

Back at home I ate half the pickles in the jar and very much enjoyed it and so did baby which was the whole point of going to get them. I imagine just like every other craving I will get over it and move on to a new one.

Sapnap:

My mood swings have been insane so far during pregnancy like way morse than they would be before my period is due to arrive. I feel so awful that Sapnap has to deal with me because he used to hate it when I got so very emotional before my period and now its constant and like x1000.

I have been slightly more emotional than usual today which has just been ruining my day because I can't seem to get anything done without crying or raging at myself but I've yet to spend much time with Sapnap so he has been spared from my disastrous day so far. This soon changed when he came downstairs and sat with me on the sofa.

He attempted to cuddle with me but something in my brain told me that I didn't want that and I should be mad at him for even trying to be affectionate even though I love him so very much.

"No get off me" I said a bit too harshly

"Oh I'm sorry baby is there anything you want?" He asked trying to be accommodating

I shrugged him off still slightly angry but getting over it very quickly and feeling bad for half yelling at him. My anger soon completely dissolved and was replaced by sadness at the fact that I had yelled and now wanted to cuddle but he wasn't going to want to now right, I mean I've just yelled at him so why would he want to cuddle.

A few tears started to form in my eyes and soon spilled out onto my face wetting my cheeks which I tired to hide by facing away from Sapnap but of course he knows me and tried to see what I was hiding. As soon as he saw I was crying he put his hands on my face to wipe the tears and gave me a kiss.

"What's wrong babe? How can I fix it?" He asked

"I feel bad for yelling and I want cuddles but you don't want to give them to me because I was mean" I explained

"You are so silly of course I'll still give you cuddles if you want them" he said

He pulled me into a big bear hug where we stayed for the rest of the day and night.

Quackity:

I have been having a lot of odd cravings over the past few weeks most of which are completely unnatural and Alex thinks are gross but they actually taste really good. To me at least.

Tonight I was really feeling like eating chicken nuggets with honey, I really wanted to eat it but I was scared to ask Alex to come to the store with me because he would think it was weird and judge me which my fragile little heart couldn't take.

"Alex will you go to the store with me please?" I asked

"Of course love what do you want this time?" He asked

"Chicken nuggets and honey" I whispered

"What was that" he questioned

"Chicken nuggets and honey" I said a bit louder

"That sounds interesting lets go" he said

He grabbed my hand and pulled me up and to the car where we went to McDonald's for the chicken nuggets and then target for the honey before going back home. Alex was interested to try this combination too so the both of us sat down to try it. At first the flavour was really weird but once you got used to it it was really good actually and now I think I'm obsessed and by the looks of things so is Alex because his face looked like he had just had the best thing ever.

Karl:

Oh my has it been a rollercoaster so far, I've been so over emotional and have been craving so many different things it is so hard to keep up with for me let alone Karl.

This morning I was trying to make breakfast and I couldn't open the milk which upset me but then the bowls were up too high so I couldn't reach which made me even more upset but the last straw for this morning was when I had just sat down after struggling with everything and someone rang the doorbell just as I was about to eat the cereal I had really been wanting. I answered the door to collect the parcel the man had before going back to the living room with tears starting to slip down my face.

I'm not sure why I was so upset but I was which stopped me eating my cereal because I was crying which made me cry more because I really wanted the cereal, it was just an awful cycle. Karl walked in as I was staring at my full bowl of cereal sobbing which caused him to run over to see what was wrong.

"Hey hey whats wrong?" He asked

"Nothing is going right and all I want to do is eat my cereal but I can't because I'm crying which is making me more upset" I ranted

"Oh honey I'm sorry how about you follow my breathing to calm down and then eat your cereal ok?" He suggested

He helped me calm down enough to be able to eat my cereal which was kind of soggy by now but I still very much enjoyed it and soon got back to my normal self.

Wilbur:

My hormones are all over the place which normally I can handle but every now and then I get too overly emotional and just cry over random things, this usually happens when I'm alone so I just deal with it myself.

Today Wilbur took the day off from working so he's here to see the rollercoaster that is my day and believe me it can be a rollercoaster. I had a breakdown this morning when doing chores I was unloading the dishwasher and I kept almost dropping everything I touched which made me so mad at myself and really sad at the same time. I just left the room and sat down for a minute talking to myself to sort my brain out then went back to doing chores.

Later in the afternoon we were watching a nature documentary which we do a lot and there was this lizard and her babies that were being hunted by a large bird, I was willing them to get away but the bird caught the babies and the mother got away. This made me so sad that the lizard lost her babies while I was sat there carrying my baby. I started crying thinking about the fact that anything could happen to little bean once their here.

"It's ok love its just natures way" Wilbur said

"But what if bad things happen to bean when their here obviously not like that but anything could happen" I sniffled

"We will protect bean as best we can to stop anything bad happening but for now their safe where they are" Wilbur said

This made me feel better and luckily the rest of the documentary wasn't sad at all and there was some cute moments which made me forget about all my worries.