#Man or muppet alone should convince you to watch it but the rest of the soundtrack is a BEAUT

[hexuanzie]

Personally i think the world would suck a lot less if everyone watched the 2011 The Muppets movie

[idyllicwillowtree]

How Much Love

Genre: Steve Harrington x fem!reader / gn!reader; angst with fluffy ending, hurt/comfort, established relationship

Summary: Steve has a migraine attack but he’s too stubborn to take care of himself.

Word count: 1.4K

Warnings: one curse word, non-descriptive vomiting, migraine symptoms, chronic pain, crying, one use of Y/N, dumb joke, p*rn reference?

Author’s note: I know the migraine thing has been overdone but idc :) I'm pretty sure this could be read as gender neutral but you can lmk if that's not the case

Enjoy!

Main Masterlist

Steve knew he shouldn’t have gone to work. The second his eyes opened he knew it was going to be a rough day. The persistent throbbing on the left side of his face and the twist of nausea in his stomach would be enough to convince anyone else that they should take it easy.

Not for Steve though.

He’s done this dance before. The battle in his mind of not wanting to waste one of his precious sick days or if he should stay home and take care of himself so he can make it through the next day. He usually sucked it up and went with the former.

I’ve had worse before, he’d rationalize to himself. I can handle it.

His true motivation for leaving the comfort and warmth of his bed was the date he had planned for you two. Steve went all out with flowers, chocolates, dinner reservation at Enzo’s, and concluding the night snuggled up on his couch watching a rented movie.  

But the customers kept coming. Steve could've sworn they were all there, not to rent a movie, but to exacerbate his migraine attack. Tired mothers bringing in their screaming babies, a group of smelly teenagers, and a boisterous man who was trying to convince Robin that The Godfather was the greatest movie ever made. That’s not even mentioning the flickering fluorescent lights that Keith refuses to change the bulbs in.

Robin began to take notice once Steve kept bumping into the shelves as he put away tapes around the store. She watched as he mustered up enough strength to pick up a stack of returned tapes and mindlessly put The Muppet Babies in the Horror section and something called I Dream of Weenie in the kids section.

  By 4:30, he was absolutely fried.

“Go home, dingus,” Robin ordered.

All Steve could muster was a small grunt from his spot at the register. His forehead was pressed to the cool counter, toned arms wrapped around his head, trying to keep as much noise and light out as possible.

The bell on the door of Family Video was the final nail in the coffin. People have been coming in and out all day but this time the ring pierced through the side of his head like a burning knife, swiftly penetrating his brain and twisting it for good measure. 

Steve’s back stiffened as he sat up too fast, stomach turning when he ran blindly through the store and into the bathroom before emptying out the contents of his stomach. He tried not to think about when the last time the toilet was cleaned as he kept his face in the ceramic bowl, spitting out the rest of the sour bile coating his throat.

Steve barely heard the door creak open through the throbbing in his head and the ringing in his ears, but he did notice the light in the bathroom turn off. “Go away, Robin,” he croaked out. 

The disobedient footsteps continued towards him. He just wanted to be left alone, feeling too vulnerable in this state. He felt embarrassment twist in his chest at the thought of not being able to handle a simple headache.

A cold hand landed on the back of his neck and began to massage lightly. It felt comforting but Steve’s mind was rejecting it, “Robin, I said-”

He finally lifted his heavy head, half opened eyes widened slightly as he met your concerned gaze, only for him to start welling up. Steve’s lip trembled as it failed to keep a sob from escaping.

“Oh baby,” you whispered. “Not feeling good?”

Steve hung his head the best he could with his stiff neck and shook his head in response.

“It’s okay, Stevie. Try not to move your head too much.” 

You squatted next to him on the nasty bathroom floor and gently brought him into your arms. You let him cry into your shirt, gently rubbing soothing circles on his back and neck. Steve knew that crying would only hurt his head more, but he couldn’t help it. He didn’t understand the emotions he was feeling yet, but he knew he was relieved to see you show up. Like a superhero, there to heal and protect him from any harm.

“I’m here now, baby. Let’s get you home, okay?”

_______________________________________________

Steve was so out of it he wasn’t sure how it happened, but the next thing he knew he was snuggled in a cocoon of pillows and blankets. He peeled his eyes open and recognized the dark ceiling of his bedroom.

You were puttering around the room, tidying up a little so Steve would have one less thing to worry about. He admired how natural it looked for you, knowing where everything goes and even avoiding the loud creaking spots on the floor. Steve had the sudden urge to reach out but you tucked him in so well he was having trouble slipping his arms out.

His grunt of protest over the blanket entrapment alerted you and you were by his side in an instant.

“What is it baby?” you whispered gently, “you need some water? Or a new ice pack?” 

Only when you removed the cool washcloth from his forehead did he notice the satisfying chill. He must have been practically asleep when you brought him home because he really doesn’t remember anything.

“What time is it?” Steve croaked out.

He leaned into the kiss you pressed gently to his cheek before you answered, “almost midnight.”

“What?!” Steve immediately went to sit up, but in his weakened state you were easily able to push him back down. “We had reservations!”

“I know, Stevie. It was really sweet of you to make plans but nothing we can do about it now,” you tried to reason. “We need to get you feeling better.”

“But I-”

“Stop that,” you demanded, still with a quiet and gentle tone, but it was still enough to cut him off. “Let me take care of you, Stevie. I know you feel bad, but I want to take care of you.”

Steve wasn’t sure if you meant he was feeling bad because he was sick or because of the immense amount of guilt he feels whenever he sees himself as a burden to others. Probably a little of both.

“I just…I was looking forward to tonight,” Steve muttered tiredly. “And this stupid chronic thing just always gets in the way and I don't…I don’t like asking for help.”

Steve wasn’t sure if he was making much sense but your smile showed him you understood. Your expression was soft and comforting as you gently raked your fingers through his hair. “Steve, I love you. All of you. Every single part of you I just adore. It doesn’t matter if those parts are feeling bad or good, I’ll always be here,” you stroked his cheek gently with the back of your hand, his eyes fluttering shut at the feeling. “I like caring for you Steve. It makes me feel good. So don’t worry about burdening me or anything like that, okay?”

Steve felt his lip tremble again but managed to gulp down his sobs this time. He whispered a quiet, “thank you” before fully relaxing. He lazily pursed his lips, silently asking for affection, which you happily fulfilled. You moved in close and kissed his lips as a way to let him know you will support him during this tough time.

Once you were leaned back you said, “now, on a scale from one to ten, how bad does it hurt?”

“Mm…Eleven.”

“No, it’s Y/N.”

Silence engulfed the negative space until a curious Steve peeled one eye open, only to see your shit-eating grin. He knew you’d be frozen like that until he laughed, but your expression was usually funnier than the joke.

He puffed out a laugh through his nose before shutting his eyes again. “That was horrible,” he said.

“Maybe, but at least I got you to smile,” you said smugly.

“Mm you sure did,” he praised you lightly. “Now c’mere. Cuddling is the best medicine.”

It’s called ‘chronic pain’ for a reason. Sure you can dull the pain with medications and treatments but it’ll always be there. Sometimes all you have to do is deal with it and ride it out,  but it makes it so much easier when there’s someone there who loves and supports you. 

Love may not be able to cure all kinds of pain but Steve thinks your love comes pretty close.

thank you for reading!

Main Masterlist

[kensboytoy]

Smile, Darn Ya, Smile!

Title: Smile, Darn Ya, Smile! Fandom: Smile For Me Pairings: Dr. Boris Habit/Reader (Gender Neutral) Ratings: Explicit

Flower Child.

The name was almost an insult at this point when you heard that poor excuse for a Muppet turn to the camera and speak directly into your soullike it had been watching you night and day. You knew from day one that Dr. Habit wasn’t the goody-goody-gumdrops man filled with rainbows and sunshine - hell, most folks in the Habitat knew it too and were unsettled. So why did you all stay? Were so many people rooted in place from crippling depression?

Or maybe something intoxicating was in the air.

Either way, your campaign to brighten up these people’s lives wouldn’t stop with a few measly puppety threats. Simple requests led to big smiles. And wasn’t that the entire reason that you were there?

But a King sat on the ivory throne of pearly white teeth, scowling at how his kingdom was unraveling. How you were becoming the Flower Hero and he nothing more than a knave. A bubbling jealousy was brewing within the scorned man. He wanted to make everyone smile! They didn’t deservethe free-wheeling right to do so unless he commanded! The Big Event was almost here and you were ruining it.

[Continue Reading or Read on AO3!]

Oh, he could get rid of you easily. However, suspicion would grow if he didn’t plan it right. If you vanished without a trace? Well, he could say that you went back home. Although the people in Habitat were naive, there was no way they’d fall for that. You were too involved here - you had some sort of stake in Habitat now. Like a tick on a dog’s back. Sucking the life out of Dr. Habit and making his patience wear thin.

As night fell upon The Habitat, you sauntered your way through the halls to get to your room. You let out a languished yawn, your eyes growing heavy. The sun had only just started to hide behind the hills when you started to feel funny. Not the usual tiredness from a long day. You felt woozy. Steadying yourself on the guardrail leading up to your room, your free had clutched at your head. There was no one around to help you up the tedious flights of stairs that now felt like climbing a tall mountain.

Slowly, you crumpled, defeated by the sudden crushing weight of gravity. You called out. But nobody came.

”It’s so very totally rude to keep sleebing.”

The darkness that clouded your mind was starting to come back. A voice that sounded like TV static started to trickle into your ears. You swore that you were drowning in the abyss before your lungs finally reacted to inhale much needed oxygen. A few shaky breaths and you finally started to come to. The stinging smell of copper filled your nostrils as you took in long, greedy breaths as if they would be your last. What was that smell?

”Ignoring me! You’re ignoring me! May-be… I oughta wake you up, up, up!”

The voice was louder. Mocking you. A deep, mocking voice laced with an accent your dizzy brain couldn’t place at the moment.

Before you could find the strength or the voice to reply to the voice, you felt something sharp against your cheeks. They felt like daggers against your flesh but you weren’t quite convinced they had cut you. No, they were prodding you. Fishing around and then - then something was on your mouth. Pulling. Pulling your mouth open tight.

That was when your eyes snapped open with a sudden bolt of adrenaline. Panicked, your breathing quickened as you scanned the inquisitive face peering at you now. Green. Green…

“Ah, there you is! Wakey-wakey!” the madman giggled. It was his hands that were on your face. Sharp fingers that felt like claws were still adjusting whatever was holding your mouth open.

“Doctor?” you croaked, voice breaking apart from how dry your throat was. It felt like sandpaper just trying to rattle out that word alone.

Dr. Habit was smiling at you, though it wasn’t exactly sincere like all of the posters of him had been. There was menace behind it - a threat.

“Ah, look-y who the smarty-er-pants is!” Dr. Habit cooed mockingly. “Oh, so very smart for guessing who I am. But I bet you still don’t know where you are~!”

With your heart still racing and the new stinging of your face, you let your eyes frantically glance around as your vision came back to you. Sterile. Weirdly cramped. An office? Glancing down, you noticed your immobile form all strapped up to what looked to be an examination chair. Oh. You knew where you were now.

“Your-”

“Thaaaaat’s righty-right, Flower Brat! You’re in my office! A very special appointment for a very special little Flower.”

You heard a swift kick of his foot against the metal pedal of the chair’s release that sent your seat in an uncomfortable backwards position. A yelp of surprise left you as well as an alarming amount of saliva down your chin that your mouth was finally producing again. Dr. Habit was laughing at the sight of how pathetic you looked. He was circling around you now - almost prancing - like a shark to a minnow.

“How dee-sgusting! This is the freak that all the Habitians are smiling about? But look at you! You’re a mess.” He was brought to more laughter with a series of titters that he tried his best to keep inside. “And we haven’t even started the actual procedure!”

“Procedure?” you parroted.

Dr. Habit scowled at that, jolly facade slipping as his voice dropped to a low register.

“It ees not polite to talk with your mouth full.”

You were about to question him when he shoved dampened cotton balls into your mouth. The numbing effect of whatever they were soaked with hit you pretty quickly. It wasn’t like you were feeling any better from being drugged up previously. You had finally pieced together that the copper smell was laughing gas. Though, that was what you were hoping for.

A whimper pushed through all the cotton, filling the air. It was like music to him.

“Bettur? Just let your body realize your natural place, Flower Brat. I can see that it wants to let go of aaaaall those sill-ee thoughts you have! All those terrible worries. How preoccupied you’ve been with other people’s problems.”

Dr. Habit was closer to you now, one hand reaching down to cup your cheek. He rubbed you gingerly, pretending that he was filled with concern for the one that he had drugged up and tied down. You could see that he played stupid very well.

“Even after I told you not to interfere,” he growled, claws clenching against your skin. You whimpered, afraid of the power that he had. “You just don’t lee-ssen! What do you hope to prove, hm? That you are better than me?”

You shook your head frantically.

His eyes narrowed, nostrils flaring. It was clear he didn’t believe you.

“You do! You think you are better-er than me!”

Huffing like an impudent child, you felt his fingers back on you. They slipped into your open mouth eagerly and he bent down to examine. Dr. Habit frowned several times and made small ‘hmm’s’ and ‘oh’s!’ as he explored. The sudden focus on your dental hygiene was making you squirm under him. Though, perhaps it was also the intimate nature of a deranged man on top of you, prodding and poking your mouth with sharp fingers. You felt like one wrong move and he’d cut you open.

Dr. Habit could see that you were watching him - he smiled when he met your gaze.

“Curiouz creature, hm? Want to know what I’m looking for?”

Slowly, you nodded.

That certainly caused him to guffaw.

“Well, I am a dentist, silly-Billy! So I’m looking for any yucky-ucky cavities. Whiiiich-” He dug his index finger right into a molar.

You cried out, bucking against your restraints. Dr. Habit snorted at that and pushed down harder. Tears stung your eyes.

“Naughty, naughty! Such an ungrateful little Flower Brat, you don’t even bother to take care of your teeth!” His expression shifted again so that he was glowering at you. Practically a snarl. “Such naughty people always get to have their teeth. Why should you be so lucky, hm? You obviously do not care enough to take care of them.”

Another sharp push but, this time, it felt like he was trying to pull it back out. You quickly realized that the fluid in the cotton balls did not actually numb any pain at all. It indeed made it shock your mouth with more of an impact. Crying out, you begged for him to stop. Dr. Habit couldn’t hear you in his mad frenzy.

He reached for his tools resting nearby and produced a rusty pair of pliers. Panicking, you began to thrash. You knew the pain would be unimaginable if he pulled it out.

“Stop squir-erming! It’ll be over quickly…”

The rusted metal was tightened around you tooth and-

Yank!

You screamed. Howled in pain as the molar was plucked from you. With tears down your face, you shook and cried in Dr. Habit’s grip. He looked the molar over and tsked. It indeed had a large cavity in it, making it not perfect and shiny like he enjoyed. He let it clatter to the collection tray before he turned back to you.

“Pleasth!” you begged, mouth still forced open with drool and blood running down your chin. “I’m saw-wee!”

Dr. Habit paused, looking at you with a slight bit of pity. Well, you had thought so. But his finger went straight back into your mouth was the hole was.

You cried out again, screaming until your voice was hoarse. The stinging pain of the new wound quickly began to numb. It might have been your brain trying to process it into something that you could handle.

So neither of you had expected a moan.

Dr. Habit’s eyes widened in surprise, mouth agape and ready to question or belittle you. Curiously, he pressed again. Another loud moan fell from your lips in between your sobs.

“Oh? Whazzis…?”

He let your blood coat his finger and then slowly traced it on the roof of your mouth so you’d be forced to taste the stinging metallic taste. Then, he pulled away and sucked on it. He shivered. This was terribly naughty!

“Do you like this?” he whispered in a sharp, accusatory hiss.

You tried to shake your head.

Dr. Habit carefully cupped your face between his hands and this time let his thumb push into your mouth. You whimpered, body arching up towards him. With his hand clamping your jaw open, he touched the freshly opened hole and watched as you practically danced under him. Well, this was new, wasn’t it?

Never before had Dr. Habit had a patient that liked this. No, usually they screamed their little lungs out and begged for their lives. You would never know if this man spared those who he harvested or that he had more skeletons in his closet.

“Liar, liar, plants in a fire! I can feel your bod-dee twitching when I play.”

That sing-songy voice was enough to make your stomach turn. You wanted to be sick. However, the fire in your loins was far too distracting. You began to pant. Hard, heavy breaths meant you were inhaling more of that godforsaken gas into your lungs. But you couldn’t help it! This was entirely new to you too. You should have been screaming and sobbing and you were letting tears fall down your cheek, you were also leaning into Habit’s sickening touch.

Helpless eyes watched as the man examined you to try an re-calculate what to do. You had already ruined his first set of plans for the Big Event and now you had the audacity to make him change course for torturing you!

However, the morbid curiosity that Dr. Habit had in this precise moment was almost enough to let you off the hook. Almost.

“Even in my ah-tempts to hurb you and make you pay, you still-ee manage to screw it all up, Flower Brat!” he nearly roared with a snarl before that sweet smile came and stretched across his face.

Like nails on a chalkboard, he scraped his pliers against the metal of the dental chair to make you jump. You let out a gasp, dreading what would come next. He loved watching you squirm in anticipation. Your fear was so very palpable that it was yummy in his tummy. The cold metal of the tool that had robbed you of a tooth tapped mockingly against your cheek. He dragged it along your jaw and stopped at your chin.

“We could always see how many more teeth I can pull from your puh-retty leetle mouth to make you orgasm.”

Your eyes were wide open and looking at him in terror. The shock ran through you - or, at least you hoped it was shock and not something else.

“Wh-wha-”

Habit pressed the pliers to your lips to shut you up.

“Oh, leetle Flower Brat! You are having a big se-cer-ret from your dear Doc-tor! I cannot per-scribe the right medi-i-cine if you don’t fess up to all your dirty daydreams~!”

He yanked your mouth open again and carelessly plucked another tooth. You screamed, unable to take this flash of pain ringing in your jaw. Choking back another cry, you felt the blood drip down your lips before you realized that he had taken one of your front teeth. However, instead of shoving his claws back into your mouth, you suddenly felt his warm, stale breath pour over your face.

Now you were staring directly into those bloodshot yellow eyes as he was a hair’s breadth away from you. Body tensing up, you were frozen by that stare. You wanted to pull away. To try and jerk free from his grip. What was he trying to pull - aside from teeth, of course.

Before your anxious thoughts could get too rapt up in the ‘what if’ game, you felt his lips against yours. Startled, you moved to pull away but felt his hand encase the back of your head to hold you steady. Like a panicked animal, you began to fear the worst. Then you felt his tongue slide into where your tooth had been and it finally clicked.

He was trying to turn you on.

Using your own embarrassment was far more fun than just simply robbing you of your teeth. No, he wanted you to feel shame that you were enjoying this. Sweet little Flower Freak was getting off on the mutilation of your own body.

You began to weep freely and tried to ignore the white hot pleasure his tongue was quickly achieving. It slid directly into the fresh wound and pushed its slimy warmth with enough force to produce another lovely moan from you.

All your worries were starting to melt away.

Your body, perhaps from the sheer trauma of it all, was sending signals of pleasure rather than pain. The stinging sensation of the open gash in your mouth was beginning to welcome the sensation of his tongue. Like it was the perfect band-aid for your lil’ whoopsie.

The longer Habit kissed you and let his tongue explore your mouth, the more you finally let your body go limp in his hold. No more struggling. Dr. Habit knew exactly what you wanted and would prescribe the perfect medication.

“Theeeere we go, leetle on,” he cooed encouragingly. “Let your nasty body realize its place, hm? You know-e you cannot fight against such a strong Doc-tor like me! I would crush you easily.”

That dangerous look in his eyes was proof enough of that. But he was right. You couldn’t fight back. You couldn’t win. Trying to convince the mad doctor to let you go was a moot point. So you might as well just enjoy the last moments of your life and let the sick bastard indulge your newfound fetish.

“All you wanted to do was fix the smiles of everyone else… But maybe leetle Flower’s smile looks funnier than everyone else’s! May-bee…”

Habit’s hands pulled your cheeks so you were forced to smile your new broken smile as blood continued to dribble down your chin.

“May-bee Flowers do not smile right because there is something naughty behind those teefs! A perverted little freak who wants big bad Doctors like Habit to be making their smiles less dirty.”

Slowly, he leaned in and licked a stripe against the top row of still intact teeth.

“Habit could fix you,” he suggested, a darker tone slipping in again. “Fix you up-up-up! Make smile less dirty by cleaning it.”

With another push of the pedal connected to the chair, you were flat on your back now. The hulking figure was on top of you, blocking out the small light that had been shining in your face. He looked to be nothing more than a shadow creature now, leering down at you like a piece of meat instead of a ‘patient’.

“Yes, yes! Habit fixy! All smiles! Even naughty-naughties who wanna ruin ever-ree-thing!”

You were barely focusing on what he was saying as he slid your legs open. Fear washed over you again as you started to wonder what ‘fixing’ you meant. The answer was swiftly rubbed against you through the fabric of Habit’s pants, rubbing your inner thigh before he pushed it against your throbbing sex.

Letting out a choked cry, you bucked to try and shove him off you. But he was far too strong and was now pinning a good chunk of his weight to keep you still. The sharp zip! of his pants was enough to alert you to the terror and gravity of the situation.

“Don’t worry, leetle patient. Doc-tor Habit will indulge your icky fantasies with special medicine.”

A mewl left you as your body trembled. However, you found the arousal at the pit of your stomach branching off and seeping into every inch of you. The laughing gas made you feel as light as a feather and so easy to mold like putty.

Habit stared down at you tenderly as he rubbed his cock against your clothed body. The sensation was enough for him to sigh in relief. He wouldn’t have admitted it, but seeing you so fearful and horny really turned him on. And Habit so rarely took care of his own needs. So this was an extra special occasion!

He bent your legs upwards and let your thighs push together. There, he let his cock slip between them and start absentmindedly hotdogging them. The sight sent you further into your own madness. You begged for him to stop but your hips rocked to try and meet his. This was torture. Complete agony!

Deciding that you needed more pleasure, his hands went back to your mouth to play with you. Eager, you reached into his touch and let your face be cupped in the palms of his massive hands. His thumbs parted your lips and pushed in. It only took his sharp fingertips to push against your two new holes for you to greet him with little moans. You were already on the brink! You just needed more of his touch.

More of Habit talking down to you and degrading you. You liked being his nuisance if this is what it meant. You’d make everyone in the Habitat so happy if it meant he would get to reward you with these unwanted advances. The sick part in your twisted brain wanted to see how far you could push him before he’d simply take what he wanted.

You couldn’t tell if this was you or the effects of the gas anymore. With your brain turning into goo, you were helplessly in the hands of Dr. Boris Habit. You wondered where his filthy mind would go with a new pliant little patient underneath him. From how much his cock was throbbing, you guessed he liked this too.

And he was big. Of course he would be from just how tall he was. A towering giant over all of the Habitat. His shadow could have easily swallowed you whole! You dread to think about that creature you had seen in the corner of your room at night. Waiting for you to slip up. And now you had. Fallen right into the spider’s trap.

Small, drunken giggles left you as Habit played with your jaw. He pushed and wiggled the rest of your teeth to see if anymore needed to come out immediately. The force on one of your molars made you moan, realizing that you had another cavity there. Taking this opportunity, he tugged out that tooth too and fingered the new hole. Your blood was a lovely little lube that stained his green fingers nicely.

The adrenaline he got from hurting you like this was enough to make him moan. Habit joined in with your giggles, pleased as punch to see you finally so happy.

“Oh? I am making you smile by doing such naughty things to you? Do you like the Doc-tors special medicine, leetle Flower?” he crooned.

You nodded, eyes half-lidded and your mouth willingly wide open while he played. You were in heaven. The pain was pure pleasure now and making every nerve-ending tingle so delightfully. Having him do this to you was amazing! You were oh so grateful to be his patient.

“Good! Now you know how generous I am! You comin-k in here and ruining all my wonderful plans! I was oh-so mad at you, yes I was! I wanted to stra-ngle the li-iife outta you… But I like your broken smile.”

Habit was starting to drool. Strands of it fell into your mouth as he fucked between your thighs faster. Harder. So hard that it made the unstable dentist chair beneath you too creak and whine noisily.

“Because it is a smile for me! Mine, mine mine~! You are smiling for Habit now! And I hab it aaaaallll to myself foreber and eber!”

His own maniacal giggles surrounded you.

You were smiling at just how happy he was! It was so infectious to see Dr. Habit smile so much. You were finally making him happy too…

Pleased with yourself, you let yourself fully dive into your madness. You giggled and groaned, begging for him to keep you. You wanted to be his! Why waste time in such a silly world like the Habitat when you could stay with Habit forever. That sounded much nicer.

Habit bent down and greedily kissed you, swiping his tongue over your teeth and the holes of the ones he had stolen over and over, increasing his pace the harder he bucked against your warm body. He was close. So achingly close. The noises coming from him were guttural. Needy. He wanted you to cum to fully put you in your place. To overwhelm you with utter shame even after you came back to your senses.

Your arousal was hitting you so hard that it was blinding. All you could see were the rows upon rows of Habit’s teeth curled into a smile and his yellow eyes shifting to a deep red. His hands that grabbed the sides of your face were now letting those sharp nails dig into the soft flesh, poking holes in your skin with sweet new cuts that would punctuate your broken smile.

Then, all at once, as you felt the overwhelming darkness begin to eat you up, you came. You screamed out his name and begged for him to keep you and to fix your smile.

Habit watched in pure childlike wonder as you bucked wildly, gasping for air. The sight of what he had done to you - how he ruined your body all for himself and that you were begging for more sent him well over the edge.

Ropes of cum shot onto your stomach before he moved up, opening your mouth and letting the hot, salty liquid shoot into your mouth. The sting of it hitting the gaps in your smile burned. But your loopy smile was stretched out as you took every drop.

Dr. Habit panted for a moment before tucking himself away and standing at full attention. His hand came to pet your head in a more tender moment, his smile never fading. You had truly made him smile from your depravity.

“Round one of Dr. Habit’s speshul medicine was a sucks-yes!” he cooed proudly. “I think it is beddy-byes for Flowers before phase two…”

You were about to protest when you felt a syringe pierce into the crook of your arm. A warm liquid filled you before you lost your fight to sleep while hearing Habit sing a soft lullaby in his mother tongue:

“Bayu-bayushki-bayu, bayu-bayushki-bayu…”

[captainjetrocketboy]

I’m Tryna Understand These Days ~ 8

Also on Ao3.

Chapter 8: A World Where We Can Be Alone

Seventy-two hours. He didn’t even try to stop himself from counting every little tick of the clock.

It’s been three days since Callum gave into his desires and kissed Ben for a fleeting moment.

It’s been three days since Ben had asked for space. He wanted time to process everything that he knows now, and Callum would just have to accept that. After all, Ben had done the same for him when he was still figuring out what to do with Whitney. He owed it to the other man to show that he truly did have feelings for him. That he really did love him.

Though, while it’s only been half a week, Callum was starting to think he might go crazy if he had to wait another day. He doesn’t understand how Ben was able to be so patient with a muppet like him back then. 

Callum shifted in his bed. It seemed to feel emptier and emptier as the hours went by. He never knows the night before if the next day will finally be the day that Ben comes back to him. That he’ll have thought about it and be gracious enough to give them a second chance. Or in Ben’s case, he supposes the first chance at their relationship. 

He needs to learn to stop being so naive.

Taking a glance at his phone, Callum notices that it’s already almost past noon. The lack of sleep that he’s been getting lately has really affected his schedule. Turns out that lying motionless, but awake, in his sheets wasn’t the healthiest way to deal with this whole situation. It could be worse though, he thought.

And he knows he shouldn’t blame Ben for taking his time. He might not have told him everything there was to know about them, but what the other man does know would be a lot for anyone to comprehend, let alone someone who’s lost their memory about it.

It’s just been tough on Callum, and he’s tired of obsessing over it. But when has he ever been able to get Ben out of his mind? It certainly isn’t one of his strong suits.

After some minutes pass, he reckons that he should probably get up. He hopes Jay doesn’t mind him coming in to work late. For the third day in a row.

He mindlessly gets dressed in his suit as he lazily combs a hand through his hair. It’s maybe thirty past twelve when he finally trudged down the stairs out of his flat. 

When he gets down to the funeral parlour, his ears perk up at the two familiar voices through the walls.

“Are ya really sure about this, Ben?”

“For the last time, bruv, I’m sure.”

Callum really shouldn’t be eavesdropping, but he finds it hard to do that when the conversation involves Ben. 

“And are ya gonna be on your best behavior with him?”

“As long as he’s good to me, we won’t have a problem.”

As Callum gets closer, he can hear Jay let out a sigh. “Alright then, if it’s what you want. But if he even tries to upset ya, he’ll for sure have a problem with me.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Ben chuckles.

He takes that moment to finally step into the office. He’s greeted by a smirk from Ben and a subtle glare from Jay.

“It lives then. Thought I’d hafta wake you up myself.” Jay rolls his eyes as he crosses his arms. He notices that he’s perched up on the desk, while Ben leans back in the swivel chair, hands resting on the back of his head. Their eyes meet, and Callum could swear his breath hitched.

“You alright there?” Ben amicably asks.

Callum clears his throat before responding. “Yeah, yeah, I’m good. How have you been?”

Ben purses his lips. “Fine. A few headaches here and there, but it’s getting better. I hope.”

“That’s good then.” Callum nods his head, but leaves it turned downward.

There’s a bit of silence in that moment. At least until Jay speaks up again.

“Just get on with it, bruv. I can practically feel the stupid tension between you two.” He lightly punches Ben’s shoulder, who just laughs as he tries to hit Jay back.

“Alright, alright.” Ben’s laughter subsides as he puts on a more serious expression. His smile remains, though, as he turns his attention to Callum. “So I’ve been thinking…”

“Dangerous thing, innit?” Jay butts in, grinning at Callum.

“Oi! I thought you wanted me to get it done with!” Ben yelled as he kept a smile of his own.

Jay let out a small laugh as he leaned backwards, almost on instinct, expecting Ben to playfully hit him again. “Sorry, sorry! Just had to put that out there.”

“Anyway,” Ben clears his throat and his mouth slips back into that too-familiar smirk. “I’ve been thinking of what you told me.”

“Ben, I’m so sorry about that night. I-I never meant for it to happen.” Callum couldn’t stop himself from blurting out as he took a step forward.

Ben scoffed. “Is anyone here gonna let me finish?”

Callum froze on the spot, his lips pressed tightly into a line. His gaze shifted back down to his shoes. “Sorry…”

“Look, what I’m tryin’ to say is… I’ve taken the time to get my head ‘round… this,” Ben motions between the two of them. “And I think that… it’s worth a shot.”

Callum perked his head up at that. He stared at the other man in disbelief. Surely, his big stupid ears were playing tricks on him. There’s no way that it would be that easy. That Ben could just forgive him at the snap of his fingers. He didn’t deserve such kindness.

“What?” He whispered as he fought back the sting of tears.

“Don’t get too excited there, Cal,” Ben joked. “But I mean it. Screw the past. What matters is now, and right now… I think we should give us a chance, eh?”

“Ben, I… I don't know what to say. I wasn’t exactly plannin’ on you forgiving me.” Callum started slowly making his way towards the man behind the desk. Jay sat up from his position, making room for him to get close.

“You don’t have to say anythin’ right now. Let’s just take this slow.” Ben reached out when he was near enough, and softly brushed his fingers across Callum’s. “From what you’ve told me, seems we weren’t exactly the best at doing that before.”

Callum clung onto that brief contact of skin. It sent shivers along his arms, and his cheeks were starting to heat up. He moved his hand in a way that let him properly hold Ben’s in his. “Slow… yeah, I’d like that.”

“Great.” Ben grinned up at the taller man. Their hands didn’t separate for a second in the moment of silence that they shared. It wasn’t until Ben spoke up again did he let go. “So, what do ya say about lunch at the caff?”

Feeling a bit more like himself, Callum smiled, giggling at how not-slow Ben was already being. “You mean like a date?”

Ben’s eyebrows raised, a smile of his own spreading across his handsome face. “It don’t have to be a date. It’s just lunch, innit? Like how we used to when we were mates.”

“Except now, we’re more than that, right?”

“Only if you want us to be.”

Callum was made suddenly aware of Jay’s presence when he cleared his throat, popping the bubble that seemed to encase the two men. He looked back at his boss, and pleaded with his eyes to give him the day off.

Jay seems to get the message pretty clearly. “Go on. You two deserve it.”

Callum’s never been more grateful for someone else know about him and Ben. Jay’s support is certainly something he hadn’t expected. “Cheers, mate.” 

“But someday we’re gonna have words about what exactly you’ve done with Ben.” Jay’s expression is light, but his eyes tell Callum that he’s serious.

“Thanks, bruv. I’ll see ya in a bit, yeah?” Ben goes to stand up from the chair, but he seemingly loses his balance as he clutches a hand to the back of his head.

This doesn’t go unnoticed by Callum. “You alright, Ben?”

“Yeah, yeah, probably just stood up too fast,” Ben quickly responds, his voice a bit shakier than Callum would like.

The other man tries to go around the desk, but then stumbles forward. His body slumps on the desk, and Callum’s able to catch him before he falls onto the ground. Jay’s quick to his side, as well, and both of them help Ben back onto the chair.

“S-Sorry, just tripped,” Ben mutters. “How about you go change, and I’ll just… wait here. Catch my breath and all.”

Callum’s brows furrow. “Are ya sure, Ben? We don’t have to go out if you ain’t feeling well.”

“I’m fine, Cal. Just a little tumble, nothin’ to worry your pretty head over.”

He isn’t entirely convinced, but the warm hand that wraps around his arm gives him enough comfort to let it go. For now, at least. “Okay then… I’ll go put on something else, but promise me ya won’t pass out on me or summat?”

“Don’t worry, uncle Jay’s here to take care of me, ain’t he?” Ben replies, drawing a chuckle out of himself and his brother.

Callum laughed along with them, but something kept biting at the back of his mind. He’s not sure if it was simply him being paranoid, or if it was actually fear for something worse.

- - -

The sun was high in the sky as they walked along the square. They stayed close together, arms bumping into each other every now and then, but a safe distance was still kept. They were having a conversation about their personal tastes in food when Ben suddenly stopped. Callum curiously looked up at the store sign. The Minute Mart.

“I’ve got an idea. Just wait out here.” Ben says, already making his way in. 

Callum just laughed as he watched him practically skip inside. “Ben, what’re ya plannin’ now?”

“Promise it won’t take long!” Ben called out.

With a shake of his head, Callum goes to rest his back on the nearest wall behind him. He closed his eyes and let out a content sigh. He supposes he’ll have to get used to this kind of thing if their relationship goes anywhere. Ben’s always been a schemer, but a feeling of satisfaction washes over him as he thinks of Ben putting that mind of his for good. Like right now, the bloke’s got something planned, but whatever it is, it’s for Callum. And that makes his smile grow even bigger.

That smile didn’t last very long when he heard a voice that was familiar, but felt so foreign at the same time.

“Callum?”

He suddenly shoots off the wall, and when his eyes open and land on red hair and a bright pink jumper, his heart drops right down into his stomach.

“Whit… H-How have… Are you alright?”

She slowly nods her head as she breathes out. “I’m… I’m getting better. Just saw you when I came around the corner, thought I’d say hi.”

Callum’s not entirely sure what he should really say. His ex-fiancee just arrived out of nowhere, and what the hell are you supposed to say when that happens?

Sure, maybe a couple of months ago he practiced some soppy speech over and over again in his head for when he got the chance to see Whitney. But after everything that’s been happening with Ben, he realized that he hadn’t really been thinking of her lately.

Should he feel guilty about that? Callum’s not sure of the answer, but he doesn’t want to know it either.

“I… That’s good to hear. We’ve both got to move on, right?”

Whitney took a step forward, closing the gap that wasn’t big enough between them. “Right… But I do miss you.”

“I…” Callum looks down at the sincerity in her eyes. He can’t bring himself to speak with that same honesty. “I miss you, too.”

Whitney looks like she’s about to hug him, but a loud and brash voice cuts through the somber atmosphere. 

“Oi, loverboy! I know we agreed this wasn’t a date, but if we’re gonna do this, might as well go all out—”

Ben stops in his tracks as he takes notice of the third person standing next to Callum. His smile fades away quickly, and his arms fall to his sides. The first thing that caught Callum’s attention, though, was the single white tulip tucked safely in Ben’s hand.

“Am I interrupting something?”

Callum shifts his gaze to Whitney, who suddenly has a questioning glare aimed at the two men.

“What… what are you on about?”

“Whitney, right?” Ben’s put up those walls again, he noticed. The hand that didn’t hold the flower was stuffed into his jacket pocket, his smile didn’t reach his eyes anymore, and his tone had an edge to it. “We’ve probably met, but I’ve been having trouble rememberin’ things lately.”

“That ain’t an answer Ben Mitchell. What did you just say?” There’s a threatening air around Whitney, but Ben doesn’t back down.

“Look, I know you’re probably still upset about you and Cal here, but you ain’t got nothin’ to worry about.” Ben taunted, unafraid and unknowing. “I plan on treating him right.”

“He ain’t gay.” Whitney firmly asserts.

Ben scoffs. “Course he is. That’s why he broke up with you, innit?”

Callum feels completely helpless as he stands back from the brewing tension. He could only watch as Whitney tried to pull a punch at Ben, but he was too quick and dodged to the side.

“Woah there, lass. I get you’re angry, but your form’s all wrong. Ya gotta lean into the punch. Put some oomph into it.”

Whitney points a sharp nail at Ben’s chest. “You know, you’ve always been dirty. So what’s your trick, huh? What did ya do to Callum to force him into your grubby hands?”

Ben, still undeterred, scoffed in her face. “Y’know, I think I do remember ya. Though, your hair was a little less… loud back then.”

“Ben, ya better give me a straight answer before I kill ya.” Whitney growls.

A humorless laugh escapes the other man’s mouth. “Now that is quite the turn of phrase. I didn’t force nothing on him.”

“So what? Is it true?” Whitney tries once more with force. “Is Callum really…”

“Like you didn’t know…” Ben stared right back at Whitney’s glare, but he must’ve noticed something in them. His cocky smirk faltered, if only slightly. “Hold on a minute… did you really not know?”

Whitney shook her head. Her anger was still apparent, but she seems to have calmed down a little.

“But he told me that he came out…” It was Ben’s turn to be confused. He looked at the woman in front of him, but then cautiously turned to face Callum, who was still standing at the sidelines. A mere bystander. “Or was that just another lie?”

Callum really didn’t like the idea of Ben’s anger being directed at him. But this is what he deserves, isn’t it? Of course there were corners that needed to be cut when he tried explaining the other night, but he didn’t think it would lead to this. He didn’t think it would matter after Ben got over it. There he goes again, being naive.

With no answer from Callum, Ben shakes his head as he turns away from Whitney. “Right, I see how it is. We really better get going now. Got some things to sort out. See ya.”

Before Ben could make it very far, Callum was shocked as he saw Whitney lift her purse behind her, and swing it directly at the man. The bag made direct contact with the back of Ben’s head, and forced him to stumble forward.

“You disgust me, Ben Mitchell. I swear if you hurt him, I’ll come after ya.”

As Whitney turns on her heel and walks away, Callum finally snaps out of his stupor as Ben groans in pain. Both of his hands were clutching at his head where she had hit him. That’s when Callum noticed the tulip on the ground. Ben must’ve dropped it from the impact. He goes to pick it up before wrapping his free arm around the other man.

“Ben, you okay?”

He’s shrugged off as Ben continues down the street, still heading in the direction of the cafe. Callum follows right behind him, and he keeps trying to get Ben to say something, anything.

He’s mostly silent until they finally make it to their destination. He opens the door, and is greeted by Kathy, who’s working at the front counter.

“Alright, Ben?” She calls out, happy at seeing her son.

“Dandy, mum.” Ben curtly responds, a hand still rubbing at his scar.

Kathy then notices Callum standing hesitantly next to Ben. “Callum, right? Nice to see ya again. Here to reign in my son from trouble?”

She laughs and gives them both a genuine smile. If only she knew what Callum did to Ben. He wonders if she would still be so kind to him. “Afternoon, Ms. Beale.”

“Oh, Kathy’s fine, dear. No need to make me feel all old.”

“Can I just get the usual, mum? Make that two.” Ben piped up, exhaustion replacing his previous frustration.

“Course! It’ll be out in a few.”

Callum still follows closely behind Ben as he lets him choose a seat. He settles down into one of the far corner booths, away from prying eyes and listening ears. The place isn’t even that busy yet, but he supposes Ben just wanted to be sure they’d have their own space. They both sit across from each other, and Callum gently places the tulip on top the table.

Since Ben still hasn’t said anything, Callum decides to speak first. “Ben, y’know nothing of what Whitney said was true, right?”

Ben let out a deep breath. “I dunno, Cal. She seemed to know exactly what she was sayin’.”

“Okay, maybe some of it was true,” Callum regretfully concedes. “But that doesn’t change the fact that I want to be with you. It’s over between us, I swear.”

Ben shakes his head.“That ain’t what I’m worried about.”

“Then… what is it?” Callum offers his hand for Ben to take. He doesn’t grab onto it.

“You say you’re out, but who really knows about it?” Ben whispers.

Callum’s heart picked up as he couldn’t come up with an answer to that question. He’s long since accepted who he was, but he hasn’t actually told many people.

Ben decides to keep going. “And judging by what just happened, clearly some people don’t fancy the idea of me and you being together. Maybe… maybe this ain’t such a good idea.”

Callum desperately grabbed onto Ben at that, his eyes pleading. “B-But what happened to screwing the past? We can’t let that get in the way anymore.”

“Well our past just keeps getting messier the more I learn.” Ben shakes his hand out of Callum’s, and rests it on his forehead.

That’s when Callum really takes in Ben’s appearance. Drops of sweat are trailing down the sides of his face, which is starting to lose its color. His eyes were shut tight, and his jaw was clenched.

“Ben? You alright? Ya looking a bit pale…”

“It’s fine, Cal. I’m fine.”

“Ben, if you ain’t feeling well you shouldn’t push—”

“Just leave it Callum. I mean it. I’ll… I’ll go get the food.”

As Ben went to stand, his legs trembled and his body shivered as if he were cold. He’s almost able to walk to the front counter, but before he could make it there, Ben lurches forward, his motionless body crashing into the tables and chairs in front of him. 

Callum’s scream mixed with Kathy’s, and the sight that he had witnessed made his blood run cold.