#ok not to be hung up about something that happened ages ago but i’m a little mad that i got blocked by the fuckin house fandom for WINCEST

[speedwayy]

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[ghettogirly]

Ok, What about armando aretas finding out you're pregnant with his baby. He found the stick (anywhere doesn't matter).

𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎 𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐀𝐒 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐎𝐍:

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: 𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎 𝐗 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

-> synopsis: what would armando be like if he found out you was pregnant?

-> theme: angst and fluff.

-> warnings: mention of abortion, mature language.

-> authors note: i’m currently posting this to keep you guys fulfilled while im working on some short stories. those take longer than these little headcanons so i apologise for the wait! hope you enjoy!! Let me know if you guys want a taglist as well.

[🕷️] 𝐍𝐄𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍:

-> 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐔𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐃 that you was pregnant about a week ago when you kept throwing up in the morning and was more light headed than usual.

-> telling your friends about your symptoms one day at brunch caused them all to look at you with widened eyes, their faces being explicit with the same expression. Fear.

-> “bitch, you’re pregnant.”

-> “what is armando going to think about this?”

-> what is armando going to think about this.

-> she was right.

-> you guys have never even discussed having kids before, both still being fairly young as you were under the age of 25.

-> you only worked in a cake shop as you was still a student, trying to finish your college degree.

-> the weight of your friends opinions dawned on you as you slowly sipped the lemonade you bought, the icy temperature of the drink awakening your nerves.

-> “fuck.”

-> 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐊 laid there on the marble countertop as both of your hands were rested by it side by side. Your hair hung down as you stared at it.

-> It was really true. You was pregnant.

-> The overwhelming thoughts clouded your mind, removing the ability for you to be happy about the idea of motherhood. Instead somber about this rude awakening. It wasn’t meant to happen now. Was it ever supposed to happen?

-> You and Armando never even spoke about the possibility of kids, just focusing on your free-spirited relationship as you both did whatever you pleased. Parties, meetings, the thrill of running from danger, running from law enforcement.

-> That was all going to change.

-> A wet feeling landed on your hand. Then another and another. It was teardrops. The transparent dots of water dropped onto your hand, staining them a little. Eventually an avalanche of tears would cascade down your face, causing you to uncontrollably sob as the obsessive thoughts became more and more out of control.

-> “Babe, ¿Estás aquí?”

-> Your eyes quickly widened as you heard a voice downstairs in the living room, the only man having that deep of a voice, your man. Armando. Quickly wiping your tears, you threw the stick into the bin next to the toilet, walking out of there as if nothing happened.

-> However, it was as if Armando sensed something was wrong. Not being a man of many words, he just simply raised his eyebrow at you, referencing for you to tell him what’s wrong. Yet, you just rolled your eyes and smiled. “Nothing is up.”

-> Still not satisfied he looked at you intensely, his face stoic as ever. Nevertheless, he left it alone and trusted you to tell him eventually. “Perdón por llegar tarde, estaba ocupado.”

-> You bring him into a hug, not caring about him being late. Just being happy he’s finally home. He wrapped his arms around you, engaging with the hug as his pointer finger tapped you gently on your back. That being a little thing he does, acknowledging how much he missed you.

-> 𝐀 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐏𝐋𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒 𝐏𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐃, you was passed out on the couch after watching a movie with Armando. Your empty takeout boxes being on the table.

-> Armando went upstairs to shower, allowing the water to cleanse not only his body but his mind too, the day for him being exhausting. He moved his hand to turn the water faucet off, his black hair being a wet mess, dripping slightly on his shoulders.

-> The male opened the shower door. Picking up the towel from the sink, he noticed something stand out from his peripheral vision. He moved his head slightly to turn towards the object that caught his attention, noticing a blue and white stick on top of the trash within the bin.

-> Peering down at it, he noticed it to be a pregnancy stick. “¿Qué es esto..?”

-> 𝐖𝐀𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐔𝐏, you notice Armando in front of you. Slamming the object down onto the table, he looked at you. Anger controlled every feature of his face as he stood there. Digusted.

-> “Espero que lo estés terminando.”

[🕷️] 𝐀𝐋𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆:

-> 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐀𝐖𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐍 𝐁𝐘 𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐋𝐘 𝐓𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃𝐄𝐑. You slowly sat up, facing him as his eyes were struck with concern. Still adjusting to reality, you rubbed your eyes. “What’s wrong?”

-> There he gently placed the stick on the table. Not saying a word, just looking back at you, waiting for you to lead the conversation. “I was going to tell you.”

-> “It was in the trash.”

-> You couldn’t object to that, he was right. You wasn’t really going to tell him, hoping that it was all just a lie and that the stick wasn’t even real. Hoping it was one big dream.

-> Looking at him solemnly, you felt your eyes welling up with tears the second time that day. This time, he didn’t say anything but embraced you into a hug instead, kissing your forehead.

-> “Enfermo nunca te dejan.. i would never abandon you.”

-> Those words were the music to your ears. “Damn these pregnancy hormones are annoying.”

[🕷️] 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒:

“¿Estás aquí?” : Are you here?

“Perdón por llegar tarde, estaba ocupado.” : Sorry for being late, i was busy.

“¿Qué es esto..?” : What is this?

“Espero que lo estés terminando.” : I hope you’re terminating it.

“Enfermo nunca te dejan..” : I’ll never leave you.

[krirebr]

More Than This 4

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x f!reader, Steve Rogers & f!reader

Word Count: ~6.1k

Summary: Arranged marriages have always been used to solidify business deals among the ultra-wealthy. Your stepfather wants to be in business with Harlan Thrombey, so now it's your turn.

Warnings: Heavy angst, age difference, adult themes, institutional sexism, Linda being Linda, a panic attack, p in v sex, sex in maybe not the best mindset, explicit language, the slooowest burn - Warnings will be added as needed for subsequent parts. All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

A/N: I thought this was gonna be a short one. 😂

Gigantic thanks as always to @paperweight91 who helped me figure out what the problem was when I was really struggling to feel inspired on this one, and then later on when the narrative took a bit of a turn that I wasn't expecting, she helped me navigate it and come out the other side. Chelsea, you continue to be the very best!

And an additional hat tip to @thezombieprostitute, who left a comment on the last part that inspired part of Linda's visit here. Thanks, dear!!

Unsurprisingly probably, this is another sad one. But I hope it'll be worth it!

Any comment, reblog, or ask to let me know what you think will be greatly appreciated. And if you need to come scream at me, that's ok too!

As always, thank you so much for reading! 💜

You’ve reached the phone of Steve Rogers. Please leave a message after the beep.

“Hey, Steve. It’s me. Again. Your sister. Um, shit. Yeah, you’re at work now, aren’t you? Sorry, I still haven’t gotten used to the time difference. I got your texts, and, uh, everything is fine. I’m– I’m doing good. But I miss you. And it’d be nice to hear your voice. But I’m fine, I’m good, I promise. I just– I’ll try again soon. Love you. Ok. Bye.”

You hung up and sighed, setting your phone down beside you. You hadn’t actually spoken to Steve since you’d gotten on the plane a week ago. Which was fine. You were doing fine. He’d texted you. And he was busy. You knew he was. It’d be easier, you thought if you were too. But everything had been unpacked. The housekeeper took care of all the upkeep of the house and you got the distinct impression that she didn’t much care for your “help,” so now when she was here you mostly tried to stay out of her way. Even Lola was getting tired of going for walks around the neighborhood.

You’d barely seen your husband since your disastrous attempt at sex. He’d been avoiding you, leaving early in the morning and coming home late at night. You hadn’t talked about what happened. You’d barely talked about anything.  

You looked at your laptop on the coffee table and exited out of the WebMD entry on erectile dysfunction. That wasn’t helping. With nothing to do and no one to talk to, all you could do was think about what would happen to you if you couldn’t get Ransom to fuck you. If you didn’t get pregnant. You still hadn’t seen the contract and weren’t sure what the actual terms were, but you knew the consequences would be nothing good. 

Steve had had an aunt on his mother’s side who’d been found in breach of contract and had her marriage dissolved. You never really knew her, but you remembered how Joseph talked about her, about the desperate arrangement she’d eventually had to settle for, the sadness in Steve’s eyes whenever she came up. That wouldn’t be you, couldn’t be you. You knew you wouldn’t even start to feel secure in your arrangement until that part of the contract had been fulfilled. You just needed to figure out how.

But, dwelling on it wasn’t helping. Googling possible causes of Ransom’s issue wasn’t helping (although it was better than listening to the voice in your head that wouldn’t stop telling you that he just didn’t want to touch you). You needed something to do. Back in LA, you’d worked part-time at an art gallery Steve had introduced you to. You’d mostly answered the phones and greeted people as they came in, but you’d liked it. There had to be something like that available in Boston. And at least trying to find it would give you something to focus on.

So you lost yourself in compiling a list of galleries you could try to contact, sitting on the couch with Lola curled up beside you. When Ransom came home late that night, that’s how he found you. You looked up, startled when he came in the door, and found a similar expression on his face. 

“Oh,” he said. “You’re still up,” as he took off his coat and shoes.

“Yeah,” you said, not knowing what else to say.

He nodded and came as far as the beginning of the living area, then stopped and just stared at you for a moment. You waited for whatever it was he was going to say. Then, finally, “How was your day?”

“It was fine,” then, gathering your courage and hoping you wouldn’t be shut down, you added, “I started to look for a job.”

“Oh,” he looked mildly surprised. “Do you have any experience?”

You pushed down the tinge of hurt that bubbled up at that. The question wasn’t completely uncalled for. Many of your friends back home had never worked a day in their lives. But you couldn’t help feeling a little defensive when you answered, “Yes, I worked at the front desk of an art gallery back home. I liked it. I’d like to find something like that here.”

Ransom hummed thoughtfully as he nodded. “Well,” he said, looking off into the corner of the room, “uh, let me know if there’s anything I can do to help with that.”

“Oh,” you said, too surprised to say anything else for a moment. You’d been sure he’d say no. You weren’t quite sure what to do with an offer of help, of all things. And you would need his help if you got the job, with a way to get yourself there at the very least. But you didn’t want to jinx it or push things too far right now, so you just said, “Thank you. I will.” And then, “Uh, how was your day?”

“It was fine,” he said, stiffly. “Busy, I’ve been really busy. And I’m, uh, I’m exhausted now. So I’m going to go straight to bed. Feel free to stay up as late as you want. Obviously.” And just like that, he turned on his heel and left the room. 

You should’ve gone after him, maybe. Made him talk to you about it. Or just taken your clothes off while he was talking (although that hadn’t worked the first time). Something. But you were tired too and you just didn’t have it in you, as important as you knew it was. 

So, you gave it about half an hour before you went to bed yourself, going through your nighttime routine as quietly as you could in the ensuite. When you went back out to the bedroom, you found Lola already on the bed, curled up against Ransom’s side. You stopped, wondering if you should move her. She’d slept in the bed with you for the last four nights, ever since that awful night, and Ransom hadn’t said anything about making her stop. And he obviously hadn’t noticed her snuggling up next to him, so maybe it was fine. You climbed in next to her and wrapped your body around hers, ignoring the way it made you brush up against Ransom, too.

The next afternoon, you were busying yourself with trying to reorganize your walk-in closet, when you heard someone moving around downstairs. It wasn’t one of the housekeeper’s days, so you made sure you had your phone on you and started down the stairs with caution. 

When you got about halfway down, you saw Linda standing in the middle of the living room. “Linda!” you exclaimed, unable to hide your shock at her standing before you. “Ransom didn’t tell me you’d be stopping by. I didn’t know you had a key.”

“Of course, I do, I’m his mother. And I’m the one who set him up with this house.” She cast a judgemental eye on the room. “I see you’ve been moving some things around.”

“Oh,” you said, now at the bottom of the stairs and looking around a little worriedly. You’d tried so hard to disrupt as little as possible. “Not much, I don’t think. Just a little to make room for my own things.”

Linda hummed in a way that made you want to shrink inside yourself. “Well,” she said and held out a gift bag. “I brought you a little something.”

“You didn’t have to do that,” you said, forcing a smile as you took the gift, slightly afraid of what might be in it. You glanced inside, moving aside the tissue paper to find about a dozen pregnancy tests. “Oh,” you said, afraid if you said anything more you might burst into tears. It was fine it was fine it was fine.

“Just want you to be prepared,” she said.

“Thank you,” you forced out. “You really shouldn’t have.” 

“Well,” she clapped her hands together, “why don’t you get us some coffee?”

You forced another smile, trying to cover the panic you felt that she was staying. “Yes, of course.” You took your time getting the coffee prepared in the kitchen. Once it was ready, and you had the cream and sugar and everything else gathered on a tray, you couldn’t delay it any longer and brought everything out to the living room. Linda helped herself to a mug, finishing it to her liking as you did the same. You caught, though, the little face she made at her first sip. That was fine, it was her son’s fucking coffee.

“This is nice,” she said, in that particular syrupy tone of voice she had that meant she was trying too hard to seem friendly. “Just the two of us. Overdue.”

You made yourself nod. “Yes,” you said, “It’s great to see you.”

“I was talking to Ransom this morning, and he mentioned that you’re looking for a job?”

“Oh,” you started, something about her tone making you cautious, “yeah, you know, something to keep me occupied. I used to work at an art gallery and I’m hoping I can do something similar here.”

She took a sip of her coffee, then pursed her lips. “Well, that sounds lovely. But are you sure it’s a good idea with a baby on the way?”

You did your best to chuckle, trying to keep things light as you felt a sinking feeling in your stomach. “I’m not pregnant yet, Linda.”

“Maybe not, but you will be soon. And do you really think it’s fair to get a job when you’re just going to have to quit in a few weeks anyway?”

You stared at her confused, your own coffee now forgotten. “We don’t know exactly when I’ll get pregnant.” You may not care for Ransom much, but you certainly weren’t going to discuss his possible impotence with his mother. Or the fact that he just didn’t want you. “And I don’t understand why I would have to quit once I got pregnant anyway.”

“Well, I’m sure Ransom won’t want you working once you’re pregnant. He’ll want you to focus on growing his child and getting everything prepared for the baby.”

You felt the air go out of your lungs. All you could do was gape at her. What? You flashed back to the wedding, to Harlan telling you how good you were going to be for Ransom. To your mother telling you to keep him happy. To Joseph’s speech barely even mentioning you. It was like you as a person didn’t exist anymore. You were just here for him. Your whole life set up just to cater to him. You felt the tears starting to gather in your eyes, but you would not cry in front of this woman. 

“But,” you started, “you worked all through your pregnancy and Ransom’s childhood, didn’t you? I don’t understand why I wouldn’t be able to, too.”

“Oh,” she said, as she gave you the most condescending look you might have ever received, “I see. You think you and I are the same. Sweetheart, no. I helped my father choose my arraignment. I came into it with my own money, having already established myself. A real career, not some silly part-time gallery job. I’m the one who supports Richard. I’ve always had the power. I was never you. And you will never be me. So, how about you let Ransom take good care of you and you focus on the things that you can give him, hmm?”

You just stared at her, feeling suddenly numb. What the fuck were you supposed to say to that? You’d only spoken to her a few times and every single time she’d made you feel so small, insignificant, weak. 

She placed her mug on the table and stood up. “I’ll get out of your hair now, dear, but this was so nice. We’ll have to do it again soon.” She stood in front of you as all you could do was sit and stare. She raised her perfectly manicured eyebrow at you and you finally realized that she wanted you to stand. You robotically did so, still so numb from this short visit. As soon as you were upright, she gave you a stiff hug and patted you on the shoulder. “I’m so glad we were able to put this silly job idea to bed,” she said. “I’ll show myself out. Have a good rest of your day, darling.” And then she was gone and you were left standing alone in the middle of Ransom’s living room.

You spent the rest of the afternoon running Linda’s visit through your mind, over and over. The thing you couldn’t understand was why, if Ransom was so against you working, he hadn’t said anything about it last night. Wouldn’t it have been easier to just tell you no right away, rather than siccing his mother on you the next day? Why would he say yes? Was it just so that he could look like the good guy before he had his mom do his dirty work for him? Was he really that much of a chickenshit? 

When you got to a point when you thought you might actually drive yourself crazy if you thought about it anymore, you got your phone out and tried, once again, to call Steve. 

You’ve reached the phone of Steve Rogers. Please leave a message after the beep.

You wanted to scream. You were so fucking tired of talking to his machine. Every time you thought you couldn’t feel more alone, you just fell deeper.

“Hey, Steve. Um, I’d really love it if you could call me back. I know you’re busy. I don’t mean to– I’m sorry. I just– I just really miss you. I’d really like to talk to you. I love you. Ok. Bye.”

You hung up and then just stared at your black phone screen for a moment. You couldn’t just sit in the house anymore. “Lola!” you called out into the house, not sure of where she’d gotten off to. “Want to go for a walk?”

Ransom didn’t come home that night, the absolute fucking coward.

When you woke up the next day, you couldn’t tell if Ransom’s side of the bed had been slept in or not. Lola was sprawled across it, taking up much more space than her tiny body would indicate. You decided not to dwell on it.

There was a text message from Steve, sent in the middle of the night.

Hey chipmunk. I’m so sorry I keep missing your calls. I’ve been absolutely slammed this week. I’ll try to call you soon. Hope you’re doing ok. I miss you so much. Love you.

You couldn’t stop staring at it. The childhood nickname combined with the distance the message represented made your whole chest ache. 

As the day wore on, you didn’t know what to do with yourself. The housekeeper didn’t want you around. All the unpacking was done. You couldn’t look for a job. You tried to read but you couldn’t focus. You called Steve but he didn’t pick up, again, and you just didn’t have it in you to leave another message.  

You felt like you sleepwalked through the whole day, so when Ransom walked in in the evening, you were startled to realize the day was gone.

Lola lept off your lap on the couch and ran to him as soon as he came in the door, hopping up and down and prancing in front of him. He froze, his scarf halfway off his neck and caught in his hands. “What is it doing?” he asked, turning to you, absolutely bewildered.

“I– I don’t know,” you said, staring at your dog. It was stupid, you knew it was so stupid, but you couldn’t help the frisson of betrayal that ran through you. She was supposed to be yours. She was supposed to love you, only you. And now she was consorting with the enemy. And you were jealous of a dog. But what else did you have? Your husband wouldn’t touch you, your brother wouldn’t call you back, and now your dog loved someone else. It all made you want to sob. “I think she’s happy to see you.”

He looked at you aghast. “Why?!”

“I don’t know,” you said again. “Lola,” you called, but she was still hopping up and down in front of Ransom. “Lola!” She turned at your stern tone and reluctantly ran back to you. You picked her up and cradled her in your arms. “Sorry,” you said to Ransom, then quietly murmured, “What were you doing?” into her fur. You glanced at the time. “You’re home early.”

“Uh, yeah,” he said, somewhat sheepish. “Finally got out of work at a decent hour.”

“Oh.” It felt so weird to have him here. “I guess we could have dinner. Have you eaten?”

“Uh, no. Dinner sounds great.” He finally came out of the entryway and began digging through his fridge, pulling out two of the pre-prepared meals his housekeeper kept there. 

As he put them in the microwave, all you could do was stare at him. You’d had the last twenty-four hours to stew in your anger and sadness and now all you really felt was tired. There was nothing you could do. It was his house, his family that held the strings. You were far from home with no one to back you up. He’d seen to it that you didn’t have a job to fall back on. All you could do was go along with what he wanted. The only thing you could do was make your place here more secure. As he bent down to get a plate out of the microwave, you blurted out, “Why won’t you fuck me?”

He straightened up quickly and stared at you. “What the fuck?!”

“I just–” you tried, “Has that happened before? Your problem. I’ve read that as men get older that happens sometimes.”

“I’m thirty-five, not fucking sixty. What the actual fuck?” He loudly dropped the plate down in front of you. “Eat your fucking food. I’m not talking about this.”

You sullenly started in on your food, it was pasta. You barely tasted it. You needed to keep talking about this, but doing it while he was angry probably wasn’t the best approach. 

He heated up the other plate and then joined you, taking a seat next to you at the island. You both ate in silence, until he finally said, “I just don’t think this is anything we need to rush into. We have plenty of time.”

You looked up at him. Of course, he wouldn’t think there was any rush. Of course, he didn’t have any personal stakes in you getting pregnant. Of course, he could forbid you from working but then deny you the one thing that would give you something to fucking do here. Something that would take a portion of your anxiety away. “We don’t actually,” you growled. “We have no idea how long it’s going to take me to get pregnant.”

“You keep saying that, but I just– I think rushing it would be a mistake. We have more time than you think and putting this off until we know each other better is a good idea.”

And suddenly, you saw red. Every single fucking thing was on his terms. His hometown, his family, his house, his things, his staff, his single car, his timetable. “And how are we supposed to do that, huh?” you yelled, standing up now. “When you’re gone before I wake up and you cross your fingers I’m in bed before you get home. If you even come home! When exactly is this getting to know each other supposed to happen?!”

“Hey!” he yelled, standing up as well. Lola ran upstairs at the sound of his stool scraping against the hardwood. “Calm the fuck down! What is the big fucking deal if we wait a few months rather than doing it right now?”

“Because the longer we wait the less time I’ll have to get pregnant! And the more likely it’ll be that it won’t happen and we’ll nullify the contract and our marriage will be dissolved. And you’ll be fucking fine! You’ll still be your grandfather’s and your mother’s heir. Nothing will happen to you. But I’ll be sent back to Joseph. I’ll have to accept a second arrangement with anyone who will take me. I’ll– I’ll–” You couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t breathe. The room was getting smaller, pressing in on you, and you couldn’t breathe. 

You sank down to the floor and suddenly Ransom was in front of you. He called your name, but it was hard to process it. He called it again and you made eye contact with him. “You’re having a panic attack. You’re ok. You’re alright. I’m here.” He was speaking so quietly, so gently. “I’m here to help you, ok? I’m going to stay with you.” You nodded as best you could. “Can I touch you?” he asked, and you immediately shook your head. “Ok,” he said quickly, “that’s fine. That’s ok. I won’t touch you. You’re breathing too fast, ok? You need to slow down. Can you breathe with me? Come on, do it with me.” And then he breathed in slowly and you tried to match his rhythm. In and out, in and out, so slowly. At some point, he started counting. In 1 2 3 4 5. Out 1 2 3 4 5. Eventually, you could do it on your own, without him coaching you. 

You spent a few more minutes on the floor with him, you both just breathing at each other. Then finally you were able to find your words. “I’m ok,” you said. “I’m alright. Sorry. I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to apologize for,” he said, still so gentle. “Nothing at all. Can you get up?” You nodded and he helped you up. “Are you hungry?” he asked and you shook your head. “Ok, I’ll clean the food up later. Can I help you upstairs?” You nodded and he, very carefully, put his hand on your back, so slowly that you had all the time in the world to pull away. His touch was warm, soft. His touch was always so soft with you.

He guided you to the bedroom where Lola was already on the bed, shaking steadily and looking at you with big, fearful eyes. You climbed on and curled up next to her. “You’re ok,” you whispered to her. “I’m sorry we scared you.” She scooted so she was snuggled up right against you and you carded your fingers through her fur, scratching gently.

Ransom hovered at the foot of the bed. “Thank you,” you said quietly.

“Of course,” he said. “Has that happened before?”

You shook your head. “No, I don’t think so. How did you know how to help?”

“Oh, uh,” he rubbed his hand over the back of his neck, looking down at the floor, “I used to get them when I was a kid. I had a nanny who, uh, she was really good about them.”

You just nodded, feeling like you should tuck away that information. You knew so little about him, real things that hadn’t been in the binder. You wanted to file away everything you could.

“Are you– Will you be ok if I go take care of the food?”

You nodded again. “Yeah,” you said, softly. “I’ll be fine. Lola will take care of me. Won’t you, baby?” Lola flopped onto her back so that you could give her tummy scratches and you let out a soft giggle. You smiled up at Ransom, to reassure him. And he just sort of stopped. And stared at you. Your brow furrowed as you became self-conscious under his gaze and your smile started to drop. 

He suddenly shook himself out of whatever had been happening and nodded. “Yeah, ok. Yell if you need me,” and he darted out of the room. 

You weren’t sure exactly how long he was gone. You passed the time snuggling with Lola, taking comfort in her. You felt shaky and raw. And scared, still scared of everything that could happen, everything you’d yelled at Ransom about. And Ransom himself, how he would take to being yelled at like that, once he was done being worried. 

You heard his heavy footfalls at the top of the stairs and looked up as he came back into the room. He sat on the edge of the bed and turned so you could see half his face. “I didn’t–” he started and stopped. Then, after another moment, “I didn’t realize you were so worried about all of this.”

“How would you?” you asked, your eyes cast down, locked on Lola as you continued to pet her. “You’re never here. We never talk.”

“I’ve been really busy,” he said, just a tinge of defensiveness in his tone. “Work’s been awful.” He paused, then repeated, “I’ve been really busy.”

“Sure,” you said.

Neither of you said anything for long minutes. You just kept petting Lola, your hand moving over her body rhythmically. 

Then finally, Ransom said lowly, “We can work on it. Getting pregnant. If that will make you feel better. Make things easier for you.”

“Can we?” you asked. “I don’t know if what happened– if that was something that happens to you a lot, or if,” you looked back down, “or if you just don’t want me.”

He moved his hand so that his fingertips grazed yours on the bed. “It’s not that. It wasn’t ever that, ok?” You couldn’t help the way your whole body heated, just a bit, at the implication. You looked up just as he tilted his head back and closed his eyes. “I just– You were clearly so scared. You wanted to be anywhere else, I could tell. You wouldn’t let me touch you, you wouldn’t even look at me. I can’t do it like that. I just can’t.” He opened his eyes and looked right at you. “I just can’t.”

“Oh,” you said quietly. “That’s– I’m sorry, I–”

He shook his head. “No, that’s not– I just thought you should know.”

You sat quietly together for a few moments. Then you took a deep breath and said, “I think we should try again.”

He gave you a surprised look. “Now?” You nodded resolutely but he shook his head back at you. “You’re still coming down from your panic attack. This can wait til tomorrow.”

In the aftermath of your anxiety, the anger you’d felt had mostly faded away, but now it bubbled back up again. You were so tired of him dictating how everything would go. “No,” you said firmly. “I don’t want to put it off anymore. I’m fine now. This will make things better.”

He just looked at you, searching your face for something. You tried to show him how calm you were now, how sure. Finally, he let out a long sigh. “Fine,” he said. Then he got off the bed and started taking off his clothes. You scrambled up onto your knees to take your top off, gently coaxing Lola off the bed. She looked up at you, waiting for you to join her, but Ransom, now clad only in his boxers, picked her up, gently you noted, and deposited her in the hallway, shutting the door behind her. He looked at you as you continued to strip down to just your bra and panties, his eyes running over your body, and for the first time, you felt it. Maybe he did want you.

He climbed back on the bed. “Can I kiss you?” he asked. You froze for just a second, then nodded. He slowly brought his mouth to yours and caressed your lips with his own. His lips were soft and warm. The kiss was hesitant on both sides, not exactly passionate, but not chaste either. Nowhere near the worst you’d ever had. A quiet arousal began to pool in your core. Not need, not exactly. But it would be enough, you thought. You broke the kiss and laid down on your back. “I’m not trying to shut you out,” you said, trying to keep your tone kind, “but it’ll be faster, I think, if we both just get ourselves ready.” You started the same as last time, one hand on your breast, the other slowly traveling down your body to play with the hem of your panties. “But you can watch,” you added. “If that’s something you like.” 

He cleared his throat and nodded. Then he reached over and lightly grabbed your underwear with both hands. “Is this ok?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you breathed, trying to push down your nerves. Everything was ok, this was what needed to happen. You were fine. You were ok.

He pulled your panties down your legs, then tossed them on top of his own clothes. You closed your eyes to focus again on your goto fantasy. The man standing over you. His voice in your ear. And again, you heard the sounds of Ransom getting himself ready. The snick of him opening the bottle of lube. The wet sounds of his hand working over his cock. This time you didn’t let it bother you. This time, you willed yourself not to flinch when you felt his hand on your leg. You had two fingers in your cunt and you worked yourself open, your thumb rubbing over your clit. Once you were wet enough, stretched enough, you opened your eyes and sat up. Ransom was staring at you, one hand on his hard cock, kneeling in front of you. 

“Ok,” you said, “I think I’m ready.” He started to move forward, but you stopped him with a hand on his bare chest. “Can I be on top?” you asked. “Is that ok?”

He looked down at where you were touching him and then back up at your face. “Yeah,” he grunted. “Yeah.”

You switched places as he laid down and you moved over him, straddling his pelvis and then carefully lowering yourself onto his cock. You tried not to grimace as he stretched you. He grunted again, as you slowly took more and more of him. Both of his hands came up to grasp your hips as you began to ride him, slowly at first, then picking up your pace. He was staring at your body and it was– it was a lot. Too much. You closed your eyes against it, hoping you just looked like you were into it. As he got closer, he started to buck up into you. You couldn't help but gasp at it. One of his hands moved from your hip to rub circles with his thumb over your clit, the rest of his hand splayed over your pelvis. You breathed through it, trying to let go enough to let yourself come, but you could tell that wasn’t going to happen. That was ok. That didn’t need to happen. Only one of you needed to come tonight.

He continued to buck up into you, his movements becoming more erratic. You balanced yourself with your hands on his shoulders. “Can I–” he grunted. “I’m gonna– Can I move you?”

“Yeah,” you whispered. “Yeah.”

He sat up and tucked you into him, rolling you both over so that you were now on your back and he was on top of you. He thrust back into you, once, twice, three times, and then he was coming, filling you up. His whole body stuttered over you and then collapsed on top of you. He breathed into your neck for countless moments and you didn’t know why, but you brought your hand up to gently stroke at the short hairs at the base of his skull. “Do you need me to–” he started to ask.

“No,” you said, knowing he was offering to help you finish. “I’m fine. Good. I’m good.”

You felt him nod, just a little, but he didn’t say anything else. It was so quiet, just the sounds of him catching his breath. Then he placed a soft kiss where your neck met your shoulder and lifted himself up and off you. You whimpered, just a little, as he pulled out. 

You quickly lifted your hips up to keep his cum inside of you. You reached blindly next to your head until you found a pillow that you shoved under your lower back to keep your pelvis canted up. Ransom moved around the room, picking his underwear off the floor, and then into the bathroom. A few minutes later he came back out with a washcloth. He moved it towards your cunt and you shot a hand out. “No! Wait.”

“Hey,” he said softly, “it’s ok. Just for your thighs. I know. I understand.” He gently moved the warm washcloth over your legs. “Are you alright?” He asked, not quite meeting your eyes. “Was that ok?”

“Yeah,” you said, moving your hand to brush along his forearm. “I’m alright. That was good.”

You lay in bed as Ransom lightly snored on his stomach next to you, Lola curled up between you. You couldn’t sleep. You’d been tossing and turning for about an hour, probably. You sat up. It was no use. Your mind was too busy. Sleep wasn’t going to come.

You grabbed your phone and got out of bed, moving downstairs to the living room as quietly as you could. You curled up on the couch and hugged your knees. You weren’t sure how you felt. It had been fine. Parts of it had even been good, maybe. It’d just, it’d been a long night. You’d gone through so many feelings, and now– Now, you just felt a little empty.

You looked at your phone. It was just before midnight. That meant it’d be a little before nine in LA. Steve hopefully wouldn’t still be working, but he wouldn’t be asleep yet either. He might be out, or painting, or busy some other way, but. It was worth a shot. 

It only rang once. “Oh my god! I’m so sorry!” Steve gasped. “Work has been a fucking nightmare, but that’s no excuse. I was going to try to call you tomorrow, but I’m so, so glad you called me now. How are you? Are you ok?”

The tears had started as soon as you heard your brother’s voice. “Steve,” was all you could get out before you were full-on crying.

“Oh, chipmunk, no. What’s wrong?”

You wiped your eyes and took a deep breath, trying to get yourself together. You finally had your brother on the phone. You weren’t going to waste the whole conversation crying. “Nothing,” you managed. “I’m ok, I just– I’m just so happy to talk to you.”

“Yeah,” Steve said, and you thought that maybe his voice sounded a little thick too. “Me too. I’m so happy to talk to you. I’m so sorry it’s been so long. How are you doing? Your messages, you sounded– Are you ok?”

You sniffled as you tried to nod and then realized he couldn’t see it. “Yeah, I’m fine, I’m good. It’s just a little lonely here. I miss you so much.”

“I miss you too. Everything’s so different here without you. Shit, it’s late there. What are you doing up?”

You shrugged. “Just couldn’t sleep. It’s been a long day.”

Steve hummed and there was a tone to it you couldn’t quite decipher. “Is Ransom there?”

“Yeah, he’s asleep upstairs.”

“And how is he?” Steve’s tone was decidedly cold now.

“He’s fine,” you said, ignoring it. “His work’s been really busy too.”

“And how’s he been to you?” he asked and you definitely didn’t miss the challenge there.

“He’s been fine, Steve,” you said and you weren’t sure whether or not it was a lie. “Everything’s fine.” You’d already decided you weren’t going to tell him about the job thing. That wouldn’t do anything but upset him. Get him on a plane here, maybe, so he could try throwing his weight around. You rolled your eyes. It was better this way. “I’ve just been unpacking mostly. Nothing too exciting. What about you? What’s going on with you? I want to hear everything.”

“You’re sure it’s not too late there?”

“No, not at all. I’m wide awake. And nothing much to get up for in the morning anyway. But if you’re busy or need to go to bed or something, you can go whenever you need to.”

“Not a chance. I wanna talk to you as long as I can,” Steve said. And you knew he couldn’t see it, but you grinned into the phone anyway.

Tag list is open

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[rreskk]

Hi there! I thoroughly enjoy reading your stories and venturing into your kinky take on the GTA verse. 🥰Ok my headcannon has a bit of an ick factor, but it’s completely plausible in my opinion: Back in their North Yankton days Michael and Trevor totally picked up a nasty case of head lice from staying in the wrong shitty motel. So, I’m thinking there was a sweet moment between them where Michael had to painstakingly comb them all out from Trevor’s hair, (which they both secretly enjoyed). But you know Trevor wouldn’t have the patience for that, or was too rough, so he just shaved Michael’s head. That’s why Trevor still has his mullet at the beginning of the game and Michael is sporting a buzz cut.

This definitely happened. I call this CANON!

Summary: Back in 2003, North Yankton, the two criminals had caught bad cases of headlice.

Pairings: Michael De Santa/ Trevor Philips

Word count: 428

“Why don’t you just shave you head?” He’d mutter and cringe, the comb barely brushing Trevor’s mullet. There were lice hogging each strand.

Just to their luck, the travels were cut short after catching a bad case of headlice. Michael knew there was something off about the motel they stayed at the week before… He’s never seen pillows so untouched and stained. Why he even slept there? Hung-over and too tired to care. Now he was in front of the bathroom mirror with Trevor sat in front of him. Mikey had a freshly shaved head, a number 2. The tiled floors were scattered with his dark brown hair.

“I’m not becoming an egg-head with you, prick.” Trevor pouted. He had his arms crossed, head dipped in a strop. Unlike Michael, he didn’t care about the lice. He just wanted the booze and to black-out drunk again.

“My head shape ain’t that bad.”

“It is.”

“I think someone is jealous that I look good with a buzz cut.” Mikey smirked.

“In your dreams, asshole.”

“Hey, watch the attitude. I’m helping you out.”

He whined, “You’re pulling my hair too hard, Mikey!”

“I thought you liked it rough?”

“Shut the fuck up.”

Michael smirked and continued to comb out the infested lice that mangled his greasy hair. The bathroom light struggled to work so he used a singular candle, forcing Trevor to hold it. Of course, he’d make sure the crazed man wouldn’t attempt to set anything on fire – thanks to his arsonist tendencies.

“How long you gonna grow your hair out?”

“I don’t know,” Trevor mumbled, “I don’t care.”

“You’re stuck in the 70s.”

“Like you aren’t either.”

Michael rolled his eyes, “Woah, hey. At least I’m aging with the new generation.”

“How revolutionary.” He growled with spite.

“You’re a dick, Trev.”

“Whatever. Hurry the fuck up, I’m thirsty.”

“Dude, I offered you a glass of water not even minutes ago.”

“Booze, Michael, booze!”

He sighed deeply, his fingers picking out the last ounce of slippering lice. He wished he was with his family right now, not forced to be combing the hair of his unhygienic “friend.”

“It’s Tracey’s birthday soon.” He said at the thought of his family.

“I know.”

Michael raised an eyebrow, “You remembered?”

“I always remember, you ass. I got her some barbie dolls or whatever…”

“Got her?”

“Stole them.”

“Fucks sake, Trevor…”

He held out his hands defensively, “What? You know I can’t afford shit!”

“Does that include shampoo as well?”

“I’m going to strangle you in your sleep, Mikey.”

“Love you too, Trevor.”

[starjxsung]

hai bb <3 ive missed youuu! i hope you’re doing so well.

i’m glad you received a lot of support from the neighborhood and that you raised awareness as well. it’s heartbreaking that these things happen and people get away with them more often than not </3

i’ve been bed rotting a lot lately. this semester was so stressful that i gained like 30 pounds bc ✨stress eating✨and i have not been able to lose them bc ✨pcos✨ (oh the things we have to go through as women </3). and i can’t handle looking in a mirror or thinking about outfits for lolla or lolla in general (only minho falling in love with me will break the curse😪) but i manage it through rewatching comfort shows and reading feminist literature that discourages my perfectionist needs.

i’ve never rewatched kingdom entirely soooo new bedrotting material👀 thanks!

rhodes island kitten sent me!! he/she’s doing so well but the mom is ever so protective and won’t even let me touch him/her anymore😪 (she only likes men)

the kitten interview is my new comfort skz content is2g. i love seeing non-cat parents handle kittens. it’s hilarious. everyone struggling and lee know just like “yeah i live like this”. channie was so good with them too! petition for cat dad! chan fr. and the claws!! my cats used to do that so much and at that age they don’t really have too much control of them so it is not for the faint of heart. i felt for them 😂

i haven’t preordered the album yet😪 and probs won’t order it until after lolla bc i have no self control either and kinda went off with my spending on baby stuff for my nephew (who’s due in a month btw such excitement! much scary!) and ateez comeback (kpop doesn’t help my finances).

i looooove your junhan pc aesthetic! i didn’t know you liked xdh🥹🥹 im waiting for my album to arrive bc i preordered it with some other things that weren’t in stock but it just shipped out🥹 i shall update on my pulls✨

take care bb! i love youuuu🫶🏻 i hope you have the best week ever!

MY ANGELLLLLLLL 🫶👼💘❤️💞 it’s so good to chat with you on here again I’ve missed you so so dearly

THE BEDROTTING…. IS SO REAL………… last week I genuinely woke up at 6pm and I thought I just napped or something for a good minute bc I was like there is no way I just slept the entire day away. There was in fact a way bc it was literally just 6pm and I lost my entire Saturday 😍 this bedrot slay

NAURRRR not the kitten who only likes men !!!!???.?.?.?.?.?..? PLSSSS my cat at my parents’ place is so particular to men for some reason and I’m like. GIRL. STAND UP. GET UP. Luckily Momo hates everyone so she’s kind of feminist in the “I only fw my mother” kind of way. Also side note she has so many fans in my apartment complex now and there’s a family with kids who look for her every day to take pics of her in my window 😭😭 she naps in my window all day long when I leave it open while I’m working so the whole neighborhood just ADORES her lol it’s the cutest thing everrrrrr

The amount of times I’ve watched the skz kitten interview. oh my fucking god. Jisung’s little “say something to the world” HWLELPPPDLDKKFDJ I genuinely cannot pick who’s more cutie between them 😭 Chan never struck me as a cat person but in hindsight he gets along with everyone and everything so. makes sense 🫶😭 and Minho is just Minho ofc

IM NGL I only preordered to get a signed album and it wasn’t until after I checked out that I realized I bought the regular ones and then the signed ones sold out 😀 I was like. Oh. Oh! Ok. My wallet is CRYINGGGGG but at least it’s preordered???? LMAO 💔💔💔

I bought my first xdh album a few weeks ago and I’ve been dragging my jh pcs around like a ghost child with their haunted victorian doll oh my god I am OBSESSEDDDD WITH HIM 🤞I also got so many xdh posters with it for some reason so I finally caved and hung all my big ass pob posters in my room and it fully looks like a kpop store in here now LMAO 🚶‍♀️YES update all your pulls !!!!!!!!! I’m so excited 👼

ALSO THE SKZ MEME PLEEAAKKXKXKDKEK SOOOO FUCKING REAL the way my sister texted me the shinee version of that meme this morning 😭😭 I love you bb I hope you have the best week !!!!!!!!!!!! 💓💓💓💓🫶🫶🫶

[vampirewalterskinner]

Ok not to betray the trio but can I get 22 with Walter and Dana? Need to see some of just the two of them🥰🥰

Butttt if you want one for the three of them I’d love more of 4 with them🩵🩵

22. “Please, let me touch you.”

Walter Skinner x Dana Scully

Warnings: mild hurt/comfort, Dana is a dom and I won’t apologize for that, adults only for the link

A/N: I actually ended up writing a LOT on this. I’m only sharing a small bit here but I’m providing a link to the full fic on ao3! 🥰 I hope you like it!

“I didn’t ask for your help. You wandered into my office of your own volition,” Walter corrected, “Why are you even here? It’s long past work hours.”

“Because I heard about what happened. I knew where you would go.” Slim fingers grabbed his chin in a gentle but commanding grip and lifted his face. Walter held his breath when he met her humbling blue eyes. He felt so exposed without his shirt on. With her looking at him the way she always did. Stripping away his flesh and scars. Exposing the soul within. “I knew you would need me.”

A flutter erupted in Walter’s stomach. Despite his walls, he was transparent to her. Need. Such a vulnerable concept for a man like him to wear proudly—so he didn’t. His needs had been buried under a mask of masculinity and unapproachable attitude long, long ago. From the simplest things like having someone touch his hand or acknowledge his existence to an even hungrier necessity, he swallowed it all down. Until Dana snuck her pretty little fingers under his mask and peeled it from his face with red painted nails. Once she saw his soul for what it really was, it was all over. He wasn’t the man she thought he was. The man he hoped he could be. Instead, he was a pathetic and lonely middle aged man desperate to hold a goddess in his arms. Sex had always been a form of stress release for him. It was for a lot of people. Walter shouldn’t be that ashamed of it, but he was. After all, how many bosses ran to their subordinates for that kind of attention? He felt like slime just thinking about it. His eyes roamed away from her beautiful face. Walter tried to pull away from her grasp. His spine straightened and a sharp twinge yanked a groan from gritted teeth. Fuck.

“I’m fine,” he hissed. He felt the sweat on his forehead drip into the fresh cut above his eyebrow. It stung.

Dana refused to release his chin. “Walter—.”

“I don’t need it, Dana. I’m fine. I’m not—,” Walter released a heavy huff and brushed her hand away. He swung his jaw from side to side before bravely meeting her eyes, “I’m not going to use you like that. You deserve better.”

“What if I need it? What if I need you?”

Walter blinked. His hearing had to be deceiving him, right? Would Dana actually say those words to him? He gulped as he studied her. Thin eyebrows knitted. Her eyes held a sad yearning he had never seen on her before. Shoulders slumped and exhausted. Now that he thought about it, her clothes weren’t perfect like they normally were. The colors didn’t quite match. Her skirt hung off her hips rather than her waist and her shirt was wrinkled and poorly tucked. She had dressed in a hurry. Had she come running to see him after she heard about the arrest?

“I know right now, with what we’ve been doing, neither of us is really sure what we are but,” Dana bit her pink bottom lip. She wasn’t wearing makeup. He could see her cute little freckles so clearly. “We still care about each other, don’t we? We’re still friends. Seeing you like this, bloodied and bruised and in pain…I need to know you’re okay. I want to make you feel better.”

She was blushing. Hell, Walter was certain he was blushing, too. Most of their trysts typically started with a heated kiss where their lips smashed together and one of them pinned against the wall. This was a much softer start to something so carnal. It made his stomach quiver. Dana’s hand cupped his face. Another hand touched his thigh. He parted his legs for her without question, allowing her to step between them as her lips hovered over his.

“Please, let me touch you.”

Fuck. She didn’t have to ask.

[makoto-nihil]

The Ocean Hunter: Eyes of Truth - Log Entry 01-02

Log Entry 00 | 01 | 02 | 03 | 04

First page | Previous page | Next page

~~CONTENT WARNING: Implied awful parents, negative thoughts near the end~~

"Today's news...."

The car pulled up to a fairly large manor at the edge of the city. The land surrounding the two-story building consisted of a large open field, a big forest to the left of the house, and a hill that stopped at a cliff that looked out to the sea beyond. A wooden staircase ran down along the cliff to a small beach and a private harbor at the bottom. A small airship - a large, copper-orange modified bathysphere with fin-like parts sticking alongside the bottom section, attached to a larger blue envelope with a crow's nest on the top of it - was currently docked at the harbor along with a small, wooden boat.

"...the ship, which was scheduled to arrive at the port in the Caribbean a week ago according to the company responsible for the shipment, has been confirmed to have disappeared out at Tartarus Deep. Many have already speculated that this was the work of Charybdis, but some have argued it was an act of piracy..."

"Huh. I guess Uncle turned up the radio again," Torel remarked as they and Chris stepped into the foyer.

The foyer led to a big hall and a staircase that led upstairs to the personal bedrooms and bathrooms. The doors to the left and right of the hall led to the parlor and the library respectively, and those further down the hall led to the dining room, drawing room, a bathroom, and a smaller hallway. A fair-skinned maid walked out from the parlor and towards the two young adults as they hung their jackets onto the nearby coat hanger.

"Welcome home, young master," she said, bowing. "Good afternoon, Mr. Lee," she quietly added, bowing to him. She turned back to Torel and her voice returned to normal level. "Young master, you are expected at the parlor by your father."

Torel paused midway of removing their satchel from their shoulder. Chris nearly froze.

"What?" They looked at her, dumbfounded. "Father's home right now? This early? What does he want from me?"

"I don't know," the maid replied, uncertain. "But he wished to speak with you as soon as you arrived home."

Torel swallowed. They took a deep breath, and another. They felt a hand on their shoulder, and already they could feel the worry and concern radiating from Chris's eyes as he looked at them. It's one thing to suddenly hear that their father came home early today, but out of all of the days he would do such a thing...

Had Mr. Lee known of this, he wouldn't have allowed Chris to come over today. I can't let Father know...

If they were quick enough, they could bolt out the front door right now and ask the middle-aged, fair-skinned butler in the garage as he's parking the car to drive them and Chris back to the city to drop the latter off and then drive back home like nothing had happened. But their father, and perhaps their mother if she's in the same room as he, would easily hear the car departing from the parlor, and they wouldn't want to endure the questions that would come once they would arrive home.

"T-Tell him I'm coming. But, please don't tell him Chris is here," they said quietly for only the maid and Chris to hear.

The maid bowed with a quiet "Of course" and returned to the parlor. Torel lifted their head and looked at Chris. He's frowning now and he looked like he wanted to say something, but he kept his mouth shut and he's concerned about them right now from the look of his eyes. They quietly pat their hand over his on their shoulder.

"I think I'll be OK. G-Go on ahead to the library without me," Torel whispered to Chris. "I'll try to get back as quickly as I can."

The frown and the worry and concern didn't leave his face, but Chris silently nodded and let go of their shoulder. He caught Torel's satchel as its owner tossed it over to him and then silently made his way to the library. As soon as he slowly closed the door behind him so that it wouldn't creak or alert the house of his presence, but not before giving them one last glance, Torel walked to the door leading to the parlor and opened it. The room was exactly as it was before they left this morning - fancy, vibrant in a range of blue hues, and tidy, with a couple of fancy-looking couches here and side tables there and a couple glass-doored cabinets against the walls. Sitting on the long couch that faced the door from opposite side was a tired-looking fair-skinned man in his late forties. Despite his weary-looking face, he still maintained a stern and calm impression. He had a beard and mustache, and wore a dark blue-gray waistcoat over a plain white shirt with a dark azure cravat, a dark brown coat and trousers with matching colors, and a monocle over his left eye. His dirty blonde hair was tied back into a ponytail, leaving the ends curled up. The man was currently talking to a dark-haired, tan-skinned man, and a fair-skinned blonde man with a bushy mustache. The three men stopped talking as soon as Torel entered the room and looked up at the young adult.

The tired-looking man smiled. "Good afternoon, son," he greeted.

"Good afternoon...Father," Torel said while trying to keep their voice steady and neutral.

***This was...my father, Samuel Murdoch, or as everyone called him, Professor Murdoch. Current head of the family house, lead scientist of an oceanographic research institute, and a part-time professor at the University of Plymouth. Because of his work Father usually doesn't come home until late at night. The only day he ever came home early was on my birthdays, but it basically could be summed up as a simple, "Happy birthday, son."***

***For him to come home this early on this day was rather unusual.***

***The man with the bushy mustache and sitting next to Father is my uncle, Roger Murdoch. He was visiting the manor at the time.***

"Seth, this is my son, Torel," Professor Murdoch said, gesturing the dark-haired man to Torel. "Torel, this is my colleague and assistant, Seth Douglas."

Seth smiled as he extended a hand out to them. "Pleased to meet you, young man." He too looked tired, but their clothes and hair were unkempt and messy.

"Um...pleased to meet you too, Mr. Douglas," Torel replied.

"My apologies," Prof. Murdoch said to a confused Seth. "He's a bit...shy around strangers."

No I'm not, Torel thought, trying to keep themself from growing tense.

"Father, is there something you wanted to talk about with me?" Torel promptly asked.

"Ah, yes." Prof. Murdoch got up. "Excuse me, gentlemen. Brett, if you may," he added, nodding to a woman in a vibrant crimson dress who was sewing a shirt with the maid on the couch adjacent to his as he rose from the couch, and the two adults led Torel out of the room.

~~~~~~~~~

"You're going away to Luna Sea tomorrow?" Torel asked.

The family of three were in the drawing room, which was, in comparison with the parlor, less vibrant but retained the same blue hues in appearance. Not much sunlight could peek behind the closed window blinds and into this room save for the lit lamps, giving the entire room much somber impression.

"Yes," Prof. Murdoch said. "Seth and I are going to meet up with some of our colleagues to check on the recent activity with the hammerhead shark population there. There had recently been an uptick in their numbers."

"But isn't it still dangerous to go out there, Father? The last time you went out on an expedition to one of the Seven Seas, you nearly died."

***Ever since the Seven Great Monsters came ten years ago, most of the sea creatures, even the predators who usually don't attack unless provoked, have been attacking any human who dive into the Seven Seas. As a result it became extremely difficult for scientists like Father to continue studying the nature and mysteries of the ocean, especially with what's been happening to the sea life in the Seven Seas. Not that they have it worse than every other treasure hunter and diver out there.***

"I know, son, but considering the recent claims of this abnormal activity with the hammerhead sharks, even with the Seven Great Monsters still present in the seas, we can't just ignore our duties to investigate the ongoing changes in the seas," Professor Murdoch said.

"I see..."

Torel swallowed and looked down at the floor. Their mother - Lady Murdoch, a young-looking fair-skinned woman who always kept her fine brown hair in a tight bun - hadn't said anything during the entire conversation, nor had she said anything to her husband or looked at him. Instead, she had been looking at their own child, scrutinizing them while their father was talking for any reactions or flickers of emotion that she didn't like to see on their face. They could still feel her brown eyes burning against their head.

"Son, is there anything you would want to tell me or talk about? I will have to prepare for the trip later tonight, and I know we haven't seen each other for long periods of time because of my work, but whatever's on your mind that you want to discuss with me right now, please don't hesitate to."

***There was one thought I had that day that came out to the forefront, out of all the other thoughts that were racing in my head back then. I just wished Mother wasn't in the same room as me when I said it.***

"Father, I uh...I want to go out to the seas with you someday," Torel finally said after a minute of silence passed.

"You will not," Lady Murdoch snapped.

Prof. Murdoch almost immediately looked at their wife in surprise. "Brett..." he started to say.

"Mother, I-."

"How many times must I tell you again?" The woman had her hands clenched into fists as she stood upright and glared down at her child. "I forbid you from ever stepping foot into the seas! Do you even know how many have died out there because of those monsters?"

"I do-."

"No, you don't!"

"But-."

"You never do! I told you many times before, and I'll say it again. I won't allow you to wish such a thing! You'll forget ever thinking of doing such thing right now!"

"Brett!" Prof. Murdoch shouted sternly.

Lady Murdoch turned to look at her husband, her face still livid. Now that their mother's attention was off them, Torel quietly let out a breath they had been holding. While the two adults talked to each other in low voices, although Lady Murdoch was furious and louder than her husband's, Torel felt their right hand starting to twitch and grabbed it with their other hand before their parents would notice. A few minutes passed before their parents turned back to them. By then, Torel had managed to keep their expression neutral and breathing steady, hiding the fact that there were many thoughts racing in their head for the past few minutes and still going, and had moved their still-shaking right hand behind them on their back. Prof. Murdoch studied their expression with his sky blue eyes for a bit before he spoke.

"Torel," Prof. Murdoch said, his voice still stern. "I have asked you this before when you were younger, but I'll ask again: Why do you want to go down to the ocean?"

Torel blinked. They remembered being asked this question when they were younger, back when they used to look forward to their own birthdays because it meant they'll see their cousin again, back before she and her family stopped coming for reasons they still don't know and were never told. They remembered the discussion back then that led their father to ask them this particular question in the first place.

~~~~~~~~~

"What do you wanna be when you grow up?" Torel asked their cousin.

Morfa tilted her head left and right as she thought about it, her curled up pink hair that surrounded the sides of her fair-skinned face swaying along with her head, and her fork pressed against her lips. "Well, I wanna be a historian like my Mom! Study and record the past and stuff!" Morfa exclaimed with a smile.

Out of the corner of Torel's eye, they could see their aunt Minerva, who was standing nearby the two children, briefly turn to look at them both with a smile, still sitting next to each other on the big couch with plates of cake slices on their laps, before turning back to the relative she was talking to and resume her conversation. Her curled up braided pink hair, its color a somewhat contrast to her fair-skinned complexion, whirled around along with her head's movements and came to rest on her left shoulder. None of the other relatives in the room seemed to pay much attention to the two children, not even Prof. Murdoch despite that he was also standing nearby the couch, and were instead busy discussing with each other.

Morfa chewed some more of her cake slice, ignoring the fact that there were smears of cake and frosting around her mouth. "What about you?"

"Hmmm..." Torel poke their cheek with their cake-stained fork. "I think I wanna be like my Father. Go down into the ocean and study all the scary sea creatures and underwater plant life and stuff!"

"Ooooooo! Sounds pretty cool! Wonder what kinds of creatures or plants or stuff you'll find down there!" Morfa exclaimed.

Neither of the two children heard or noticed Prof. Murdoch pause in his conversation with a relative and glanced at Torel with a frown respectively. Torel didn't expect to be asked why they thought of wanting to go down into the ocean until the evening arrived and Morfa and her family and everyone else who were invited had left the manor. Back then, they didn't had a good reason to give besides a "Because I wanna see what it's really like down there with my very own eyes! Everything I've heard and read sounds so scary but pretty!" (then again, they were very young at the time), but it was enough to persuade their father to not dissuade them from their interest, much to their mother's chagrin.

~~~~~~~~~

Now, Torel took a breath before they gave their reason for this time.

"I...I want to see the world down there, to see what wonders and beauty it holds through my own eyes. I don't care if I have to wait a few more years or until all of the monsters are gone, but I'll fight my way if I have to! I just don't want to live in ignorance of the underwater world and the life within it."

Silence filled the air after Torel finished talking. They looked down to the floor, awaiting whatever their father would respond with while ignoring how tense their body became.

"I see," Professor Murdoch said after a few seconds. "If that's so, then so be it. However," he added added abruptly. "If you were given the chance to do it, would you be willing to take it, even if you may never return?"

"I..." Torel started to mumble.

"Samuel, what are you-?" Lady Murdoch started to ask her husband, but he held up his hand towards her.

"You may be aware of the present dangers in the Seven Seas, even in the ocean, but it would take one's pure, sheer will to dive much deeper. What me and my colleagues are doing out there, even now, are at our own peril. Even though the seas are no longer safe, we can't ignore what's happening down there nor abandon our jobs. The same goes for the scientists who went to North Sea five years ago to investigate the decreasing numbers of the whale population there."

The professor paused to push a strand of hair away from his face before he continued.

"Humans are to blame for the current state of the ocean. The Seven Great Monsters may be the ones who are destroying the ocean now, but they also serve as grim reminders of our past mistakes. Unless we break free from the cycle of destruction and apathy that the Old World succumbed to, we are to forever carry the heavy burden of our ancestors and of the Old World. We may never see the end of the monsters, but as the new generation it is our job to fix the mistakes of the past and preserve the beauty and the life the ocean bears while we can, even if it costs us our lives."

The room was silent once more.

"I'm sorry, Father," Torel said. Their eyes still kept to the floor. "Just...forget I ever said anything."

"It's alright, son," Professor Murdoch said. "We'll discuss more about this when I get back."

"I'll...get back to my studies then." Torel started to turn towards the door.

"Torel, wait."

Torel stopped. "What is it, Father?"

"Your mother mentioned that you were going to ask your friend, Chris, to come over today for a study session for the coming exams, right? Is he here right now?"

Torel nearly raised their head sharply. They did their damnedest to stay calm and keep their breathing level and steady and the color on their face. They seemed to have succeeded, judging from the lack of reaction from their parents' faces as they continue to look at them. He can't know. I can't tell Father, they thought as their mind raced. I already have to beg the butler not to say anything this morning and on the ride back before, and the maid has always kept her word. But Mr. Lee made me promise not to ever let Father know Chris is here if I ever bring him over, no matter what...He'll kill me if I do.

"Actually...no. Chris had to help at the shop after classes," Torel said instead. "Something about...a car nearly blowing up while it was being repaired."

Prof. Murdoch let out a disappointed sigh and shook his head sadly. "Oh, I see." He took a deep breath before he continued with a smile. "Well, I was hoping to finally be able to ask him something about his father. Thank you, though."

His father? But Chris never spoke of or mentioned him before...

Torel quickly turned to the door before they could go down the rabbit hole and headed out of the room. Their right hand was still slightly twitching.

~~~~~~~

"Yeah, I'm OK. No, he doesn't know I'm here yet. You sure? But what about the-? I know, I know. But, give us an hour or two before you come over. They really needed my help with the subject and we'd agreed to today. OK. I know. I'll be careful. See you later. Love you too."

Chris put the phone down and looked outside the window at the afternoon sun. The library he was in was relatively bigger than the parlor and any other room in the house, and was the only room with a fireplace that faced the windows looking outside to the sea beyond, although it looked as though it hadn't been used for a long time. A side table with the phone Chris was using earlier was sitting next to the windows. He took a look back at the room. Shelves stuffed with fine-conditioned encyclopedias and books aligned the walls stop near the fireplace. A big, long oak table sat in the middle of the room, having been cleared of the books and papers that were sitting on it before Chris entered the room and replaced with his and Torel's satchels. A small lamp sat in the middle of the mess. Six wooden chairs were placed by the table, and a few fancy armchairs around the room. There were a few small framed photos on the mantlepiece, which included a younger smiling Torel (although from the look of their expression, Chris would have to guess they had to smile for the picture) with their grim-faced parents, and his uncle with the carcass of a bear behind him, presumably from a hunting trip.

Chris quietly walked to the big table and lifted a chair out to sit on it. He pulled out the textbooks related to the subject of today's study session from his satchel, while listening for any noise coming from outside the room. It was bad enough for Torel's father to unexpectedly arrive home without either of the two's knowledge, but it was worse calling Taka about this and hearing his very concerned voice at the other end of the line. If Torel's father were to step into the room right now, the windows were easy to unlock and push up and big enough to slip out through, and there's a bus station nearby, and he still had the pocket money Taka had given him in one of the inner pockets of his satchel that would cover the bus fare back to the city, but if the bus hadn't arrive in time he could just walk-.

He felt and heard a soft, low hum against his chest. He placed his left hand against the source of the quiet noise and felt the pendant hidden under his shirt. He nearly forgot about it still hanging around his neck from what had happened so far. The fact that it's trying to calm him down now was familiar and soothing, even under the current situation. He took a few steady breaths before patting the pendant again. The hum quietly faded away, but its presence against his chest remained.

He then opened the textbook and turned to the chapter that he found would be very useful for the exams when he heard a door open in the hallway outside. The low hum returned, echoing against his chest. He quickly, but quietly, got up and pressed himself against the bookshelves near the windows as he heard footsteps approaching the library door. As soon as the door opened and he saw the familiar seashell-shaped blonde hair poke in did he relax and the same for his pendant.

"Sorry about that," Torel whispered as soon as they closed the door behind them. "Father wanted to tell me that he was leaving for a trip tomorrow, that's why he came home early." They let out an exhausted sigh and scratched their head. "You OK, though? No-one heard you or try to come into the room?"

"I'm alright. I called Taka a few minutes ago about what happened, but no-one else in the building heard me," Chris assured them as he moved back to the table. "What about you?"

"I...I think I'll be OK for now." They paused for a bit. "When is he going to come pick you up?"

"Give him an hour or two. He was already ready to drop what he was doing and come pick me up when I made the call, but I managed to convince him to give us time to study."

Torel pulled out one of the chairs surrounding the table and sank down onto it. They looked at the satchels and the textbook Chris had pulled out earlier scattered on the table. "We probably should have done this at the school library or at your apartment instead..." they mumbled, their hand pressed against their own forehead.

"You didn't know," Chris insisted quietly. "It's not your fault."

"But-." Torel wanted to disagree, but they quickly shut their mouth instead. As much as they want to disagree right now, they both have an hour or two with the time Chris managed to get for both of them to understand and cram whatever they could into their head to remember for the exams during the study session, before Taka would arrive to pick Chris up, and then they and Chris wouldn't have to be extremely tense and stressed out right now under the current circumstances. But at the same time, they wished they weren't having difficulty with the subject in question - physics, of all the other subjects they could've had trouble with like mathematics and geography - to necessitate a study session mere days before the exams.

So instead of trying to counter Chris's words and risk having everyone else in the manor hear the commotion, they just quietly sighed, and got up to pull another chair from the table and propped it against the door in case their father or anyone else decided to barge into the room without knocking for whatever reason. They sat back down into their seat and pulled out their textbook and notebook, Chris doing the same.

"Let's just get this done," they reluctantly whispered.

~~~~~~~

An hour later, the sun was midway to sink below the horizon out at the sea by the time a pickup truck pulled up at the manor. Prof. Murdoch was still in the parlor talking with Seth and Roger by then, and he hadn't dared to step into the library for whatever reason, so Torel and Chris were able to grab their things and sneak out the front door and to the driveway as the truck stopped. A dark-skinned, dark-haired man stepped out from the driver's side. The man wore a stained beige shirt with dark suspenders and dark grey trousers. His dark hair was tied back in a short ponytail and he wore googles over his forehead. Besides his dark stubble, a stern-looking face, broad shoulders, and a semi-pronounced nose, he shared the same eyes and eye color as Chris.

***That's Mr. Taka Lee, Chris's uncle and guardian. A tough, mean-looking engineer, but he's actually nice once you get to know him. He owns and works at an auto shop in the city that primarily services vehicles and Shock Guns. The apartment building where he and Chris lived in is a few blocks down from it. He's actually one of two men who invented the Shock Gun, and the only one of the two that people remember and recognize the most besides his top-notch skills. It's because of that that people would go to his auto shop more than the other auto shops in the same area and request repair or maintenance work from him.***

"Hey, kiddo," Taka greeted his nephew with a smile. "How did the study session go?"

"You can say it went well. So well, I think Torel wouldn't need to study for the next two days at this point," Chris said with a smirk and a nod towards Torel.

Torel could only laugh in response, in spite of how tense they both were in the past hour. They didn't realize they were laughing too loud until they heard the front door open behind them and someone stepping out onto the porch. They stopped laughing the moment they heard their father's voice call out from the porch.

"Torel? What are you-? Oh! Chris! You're actually here?"

Taka frowned and quickly stepped in front of Chris, blocking Prof. Murdoch's view of him. "Chris, get in the truck," he told his nephew.

The front passenger door quickly opened and closed shut with a click in a matter of a few seconds. Torel looked between their father now approaching them and Taka, who remained steadfast and still where he stood and with his arms crossed across his chest.

"Son, go back inside. Taka and I are...just going to have a chat." Prof. Murdoch gave a look at Torel. "We'll talk later."

Torel was too well familiar with the subtle undertone in their father's voice. They knew the moment they stepped back inside the manor and Taka and Chris had left the premises, the building would be filled with loud, angry voices, disappointed and upset that they were lied to and berating Torel for all of this. They know how awful their mother could be when she gets angry. Their uncle would be too oblivious about what happened to try and step in. But their father would be droves worse.

I'll be dead if I step back into the house right now...

"Torel..." Taka started to say something, but Torel had just opened the front driver's door and bolted in. Taka quickly glanced at the door as it shut closed before turning back to Prof. Murdoch, who had stopped some distance away from him in shock and confusion of what Torel just did.

Torel was fortunate Taka didn't get called to an offsite repair or maintenance job today because it meant they could slip behind the driver's seat, throw their satchel onto the backseats that were devoid of any tools or equipment Taka would've brought with him, and slide down to the floor that was also devoid of said tools or equipment to hide. They could hear their confused father outside exclaim in surprise at their sudden act of defiance during all of this, but then he quickly changed the subject to something Torel had a feeling Taka wouldn't like. They were proven correct as they listened to the argument happening outside the truck.

"Taka, honestly, I don't understand why you always never let me talk to your nephew."

"You know damn well why, Sam. We're not having this discussion again."

"Yes, you kept mentioning his father didn't want me to ever as the reason why before, but I'd never heard from my old friend for a very long time before he-!"

"Former friend. And you'll do well to remember that."

"But-!"

"Torel? You OK?"

Torel looked up from where they were sitting on the floor. During the argument outside (which was still ongoing), Chris had moved from the front passenger seat to the backseats and was crouching in front of them. The worry and concern were back on his face. Just his look alone caused Torel to crumble on the inside. They buried their head into their hands and let out a weary groan.

"This was not how I wanted today to go," they mumbled. "This was not what I want you to have to deal with today. If I'd known Father would come home early from the beginn-."

"Torel."

The way Chris gently spoke to them now was enough to make them clamp their mouth shut. They looked up to see a gloved left hand extended out towards them - a familiar invitation for times like this. They took it and felt Chris gently pull them into a hug, and they wrapped their arms around him without hesitation. The loud voices outside slowly faded away as Torel shut them out and only focused on the now with their partner. They took a few steady deep breaths to try and calm themself.

"It's not your fault," Chris told them as they calmed themself down, repeating the words he'd spoken to them earlier at the library. "It's not your fault you didn't know. You didn't ruin anything."

Torel could only nod. They didn't have the capacity to try and disagree right now because they knew Chris was right and that he cared for them. But on the contrary, their mind was disagreeing with his words - Your fault, your fault for not double checking that your father would come home early, your fault for wanting this study session, your fault... - and trying to talk right now would only echo what their mind was saying. They shook their head to try and push those thoughts away, and buried their face against Chris's shoulder. The two remained where they were on the floor, holding each other tightly, and they still were when the commotion outside finally ended with a final loud voice, followed by the front driver's door opening as Taka sat back inside on the driver's seat and shut the door vehemently. There were no words spoken inside or outside the vehicle as Taka started the truck and started driving out of the manor premises. As he made a turn onto the road back to the city, Torel was tempted to peek out the rear window to see if their father was still standing at the driveway or trying to run after the departing vehicle to get them, but that would mean separating from Chris and they loathed to do so in their current mental state.

"He's still standing there when we left, if you're wondering," Taka said, finally breaking the silence, as if he could hear Torel's thoughts. His eyes kept to the road ahead, but he took a glance at the two from the rear view mirror. "Fuming on the inside, yeah, but he's not driving after us right now. He mentioned as well during our little 'chat' that he's leaving for a trip tomorrow, yeah?" He asked, glancing at the rear view mirror again. Torel nodded from where they were. Taka looked back at the road ahead and tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. "Well, knowing him, that means he's got better things to deal with tonight than chase after us or send someone else to drag you back home. If he'd ever, that is."

"And yeah, I already know what you're going to ask," he added before Torel could open their mouth. "You can stay over for the night, or as long as you need. Gonna have to clear the couch again when we get back, though. But right now, you two need to get up from the floor and put on your seat belts. I rather not get pulled over on the way back because my nephew and his partner weren't properly being seated and buckled up."

And with that, Torel and Chris finally but reluctantly pulled away and did as Taka told them to do. They had to push their satchels to the floor since they were taking up space in the backseats in the process, but it'd do. A few minutes passed before Torel turned to look outside the window at the passing trees, the glowing lampposts, and the afternoon sky. Already, they felt somewhat tired from what had transpired today, but at the same time, they didn't really want to fall asleep right now. But...

"You don't mind if I take a nap on your shoulder?" Torel asked Chris.

Chris shook his head. "You're not going to scream in your sleep if you do, like the many times before?" he asked in return.

"Hopefully not this time," they replied with a weary smile.

Chris rolled his eyes, but he let Torel rest their head on his shoulder. As soon as their head landed on his shoulder and they closed their eyes, they were lightly snoring. Chris could already tell Taka was grinning at the sight from the view off the rear view mirror, but he knew his uncle didn't mind any of this in the slightest. He carefully reached for his satchel without jostling their sleeping partner and pulled out the book he was reading earlier this morning. He rested his head against Torel's and continued reading from where he last left off for the rest of the ride home.

Torel didn't scream or fidget in their sleep for the rest of the ride back to Taka's and Chris's apartment.

[skittsyteacup]

TW VENT!! dont read if ur sad or smth!!!

i hesitate to write this. genuinely. theres people i know will see it and theres those who wont but i really want to. i dont even feel upset writing this, i feel pretty good actually. i think writing this wont help, i know it wont, but itll be said right? which is better than nothing(maybe). 

some of us, and i wont name, have a horrible habit of checking accounts of people we no longer talk to and wow! you guessed it. exs fall into that. its mainly to see how theyre doing(usually /neg) or cus theyre bored. but we all get those memories. and the pain can meld to others which sucks, really. thankfully this doesnt happen often! but it still happens and it still hurts. an example is one of them sent a anon tell to an ex of ours asking if they checked their exs accounts. part of the reason why other than curiosity was because we were a little suspicious they sent us tells n shit. im more confident they dont now after a bit of research but we cant talk in headspace easily. and even so who wants to talk about their bad habits? not them. but to the actual point, ive had nightmares my whole life. i dont have dreams anymore as far as i can tell, they always morph their way into something i dont count as a decent thing. and more often than not ive found someone from our past whos hurt us a lot is always there. we had one with a man named steven who ruined our childhood a couple days ago. we screamed at him about how we hate him so fucking much and personally? thats progress! we recognize we didnt deserve it. we recognize that it was wrong and he deserves to burn. 

but quite a few of these nightmares have our most recent ex. since theyre not almost dead like steven i wont name them, ill refer to them as K. im not sure theyll see any of this. part of us hopes they will. part of me hopes that too. id like to help set the record straight.

we dated them for a year and a few days. we met on discord and grew close in a short amount of time. they were 16, i was 14. theyre 18 and im 16 now. so its been almost 2 years, its been 2 years since we met though. the relationship was good as far as i knew but now as ive grown i realize even if the age gap isnt big, thats 2 different maturities. they were hypersexual, i was asexual. the pressure made me graysexual and im also now hypersexual(in a way). i felt bad for saying no, which made me what others see as a shy partner who relies on their s/o to function. i felt bad that i didnt rely on them to exist, as if theyd get mad at me for not needing them to breath. and i think i was right too. even if they think now ‘no i wouldnt of’, i know that that would upset them. because in a way, a twisted way, thats upsetting to someone who wants to be your whole world. they want you to only need them. theyve probably changed. i hope theyve changed. 

but someone stalked their tellonym the other day to see the answer to the tell they sent and they found something else, im quoting so i dont fuck it up,  “whats your opinion on a partner that is being shy?”                                        “it’s whatever but i can’t stand overly shy partners like i’m not going to do everything for you. my ex was like that and it drove me fucking insane”              i want to scream and yell that ‘you did this, this is your fault, it was and still is a problem you created’ but ive grown too. we’ve grown. but i want to talk about how youre wrong, K. how wrong you are. you got upset when i told you no, when i wasnt ready to fuck, when i had issues sleeping, when i hung out with anyone, when my constant attention wasnt on you. you probably dont remember it like that, and thats ok but it wont change my memory in any way. you can shit talk me and i know you have about things you shouldnt. you can get angry over this. i hope you do in a healthy way and right now some of us disagree with me hoping that. back to the topic at hand, though, i felt like you would hurt me if i didnt get your permission or do something you didnt like. maybe thats why i got called co dependent. and i dont mean physically, that youd hurt me like that, i meant mentally. i wouldve dont the physical part. i know i wouldve. i know all of us wouldve. an unspoken part of our brain thought if we didnt then we didnt love you. i remember one time, i was up past 12. you woke up and saw. you got upset, made me feel like the worst person because i wasnt asleep. i went into another room and hyperventilated, having one of the worst panic attacks ive ever had. thankfull i was too distraught to search for anything harmful, and the house was small(we all slept in the living room, the other 3 rooms were in shambles(kitchen worked a little)) so searching for stuff was noisy already. and i knew if i relapsed you would make it about you. which is another thing. i dont think you ever realized it. i could never bring it up either for that reason. i didnt like talking to you about my issues because id just end the topic feeling worse than i started, but this time id also feel like i hurt you. and since you didnt like me talking to other people, and when i was i had to tell you, i just never said anything. and when id have doubts about our relationship, like i felt like you didnt love me/i didnt know how to handle something with you/you did something i didnt like/i noticed a red flag/you think im cheating, i didnt have anyone to talk to. i think i didnt break up with you because i never vocalized my doubts too. i did ask my friends during our half ass break if i seemed like a cheater, if i was like one, if i had tendencies of one. ive been cheated on before and i personally dont think im like one at all but others insight helps a lot! they said no, though, but part of me is still scared they lied. it doesnt matter much anymore though. anyway. to continue on your wrongdoings of a sort, you also accused me of cheating many times within the last week or two of our relationship because i 1) didnt let you log into my discord, you never told me why you wanted to and i wasnt ready to talk to you about a few things until i saw you(or was supposed to) 2) called you a new petname, i called you a lot of things related to the moon i dont understand why that upset you 3) everyone you talked to about us said i was cheating(ill admit, im still a bit disappointed your mom thought that too.). i cant think of anything else at the moment. but still its all bad, right? i dont know anymore. i still feel like i deserved everything you did to me. but ive been told i dont. that i didnt deserve the sexual pressure and the sexualization, that i deserved a nurturing relationship. but you still helped shape who i am now, mostly for the worst, but i know what not to do now so thats something?

im gonna end this here. its long enough, ill continue at a later date if i need to, reblogging is a thing here. i just needed somewhere to say this. theres more to say but god this is long?? enough for now??? and i need to do other things. on a side note, i hope osiris is doing well.

[one-and-lonely16]

Evil. Conniving. The root of anything bad that had ever happened to Lance. Gremlin. Lance could go on and on about how Pidge went out of their way to cause him pain. And today was no exception.

“Just admit you have no game, Lance, it’s ok,” Pidge mocked.

Hunk snorted and Lance glared at them.

“I have game! It’s you who has no game!”

“I don’t want to have any game,” they said. “I’m very content with my single life, it’s you who’s gonna be sad when you end up an old man who only has his cats for company.”

Lance scratched Blue behind her ear absentmindedly. Hunk let out a loud “Aha!” as he overtook Pidge in Mario Kart. 

“Whatever. I have game, and you can’t handle that fact. I’m actually talking to someone right now,” Lance lied.

Pidge paused the game and they both turned to look at Lance, amused surprise on Pidge’s face, confusion on Hunks.

“You didn’t tell me you were speaking to anyone,” he said.

“I was gonna tell you later.”

Pidge narrowed their eyes in suspicion. “Call them.”

Lance’s face heated up. “What?”

“Prove it. Call them now.”

Lance grabbed his phone and unlocked it. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Pidge is looking at him with a smug grin. They know he’s lying. He goes into his contacts and scrolls to the one person’s contact who he could pass off as someone he’s speaking to. The contact had the name Shortstack with a bunch of obnoxious heart emojis after it. Lance hovered his thumb over the call button.

“What’s wrong, Lance? Can’t find their contact?” Pidge asked.

Lance glared at her and turned the phone around so they could see it. “I’ve found it.”

He hit call before he could back out and brought the phone to his ear. Pidge still looked smug and Hunk just looked even more confused.

After five rings, someone picked up.

“Hello?” Keith’s voice said through the phone.

“H-Hey, Keira,” Lance said shakily.

“What’s going on, Lance?”

“What it be, girl?” Lance fumbled for more stuff to say. Both Pidge and Hunk looked like they were going to burst into laughter. “What you got going on, ma? It’s the freakin’ weekend.” Lance shot them a fake smug smile.

“Did you just call me girl?”

“A-Are you wearing something sexy?” Lance internally cringed as his face heated up. Pidge let out a snort.

“Just a t-shirt and jeans, like always.”

“Oh, you got jeans on, baby? Are they tight?” Hunk finally broke down and started laughing. That then set Pidge off so the two of them were rolling around on the sofa, laughing their heads off.

Keith hummed in thought. “They’re a little loose, I buy them big.”

“Those jeans sound sexy,” Lance purred, grinning at his friends. Ok, he couldn’t lie, this was kind of fun.

Keith paused for a moment. “Is everything alright? Do you wanna hang out more, Keith?”

“You taking- you taking care of that ass for me?” he asked. Pidge lost it even more, falling on the floor with how hard she was laughing.

“I mean, I’m not doing squats or anything. I’m trying to eat less packet ramen.”

“Stop- Please! It’s too much,” Pidge shrieked, holding their stomach.

“Is that Pidge in the background?”

“Ok! Gotta go now!” Lance said hurriedly.

“Wait, did you prank call me? What’s going on?”

Lance quickly hung up the phone, his face on fire. Pidge and Hunk just laughed louder.

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. But I told you I was speaking to someone.”

The two calmed down.

“You’re right, I’m sorry for doubting you,” Pidge conceded. 

“Thank you.”

The two went back to their game. After a few moments though, Pidge spoke again.

“So, how long have you and Keith been talking?” they asked.

Lance’s face heated up again. “How did you know it was him?” he all but yelled.

Pidge snorted as Hunk started laughing again.

“Oh please, like I didn’t realise you had changed his contact to that ages ago.” They glanced at Lance with a grin. “Besides, you had the same face you have whenever you speak to Keith.”

Lance frowned. “What face?”

“You know,” Hunk joined in. “The whole, heart-eyes, big lovesick grin where you’re totally imagining your wedding in your mind.”

Lance squeaked as they started laughing again. “It’s not funny!”

“So, you admit I’m right? That you have no game and are so hung up on Keith that you couldn’t be talking to someone else,” Pidge said, smug grin once again returning to their face.

He folded his arms grumpily. “I have game, but I’m not speaking to anyone.”

“Because you’re so hung up on Keith.”

“That’s classified.”

Pidge snorted as Hunk groaned.

“How did you win? You were talking to Lance the whole time!” Hunk complained.

Pidge shrugged. As she did so, there was a knock at the door. Lance frowned and Blue lept of his lap to rush over there. He followed and found Red already at the door as well.

He opened the door to find Keith standing there, a frown on his face and panting heavily. He wasn’t even wearing a coat and was dripping wet from the rain.

Lance’s mouth fell open in shock. “Did you run here?”

“That was a prank call, right?” Keith asked, completely ignoring his question.

“Yeah, it was. Pidge was being a dick. Aren’t you cold?”

“Freezing. I thought so, you were acting really weird.”

Red circled Keith’s ankles, meowing loudly. 

“That still doesn’t explain why you ran all the way here, in the rain, without even a coat on!”

Keith shrugged, as if it were no big deal. “It wasn’t that far of a run. Can I come in?”

Lance stepped to the side so he could walk into the apartment. “If you don’t, I’m not dragging your sorry ass to hospital when you get pneumonia or some shit like that.”

Keith grinned and ran a hand through his soaking wet hair as he walked past Lance. “Thanks. Hey, guys!” He called out to Pidge and Hunk.

Pidge just waved a hand, already starting to get ready for the next game. Hunk turned and gave a wave. “Hi, Keith.”

Keith went to walk over to them but Lance grabbed his arm and dragged him towards the bathroom. “Absolutely not, you are not soaking my sofas. No sir.”

“Then where can I go?”

“You can go have a shower and I’ll lend you some clean clothes, you heathen.”

Keith chuckled and pulled his shirt off as he walked into the bathroom. “Ok then.”

Lance stood in the hallway, looking at the closed door for a moment, his mouth dry, his face hot and his mind replaying the image of Keith without a shirt on. He shook his head and went and grabbed some clothes for him. He left them outside the door, knocking and letting Keith know before walking back and collapsing on the sofa.

Pidge snorted. “He ran all the way here in the rain when he could’ve just called you?”

Lance groaned. “Yes.”

“Nice to know he’s got it just as bad as you do.”

Lance glared and threw a pillow at them. “Shut up.”

------

based off of that one scene in new girl when schmidt is trying to make cece jealous and calls nick, pretending hes a girl

[dreamingofaizawa]

Good Kitty

Shouta Aizawa x Chubby! Kitty Hybrid! Fem! Reader

***18+ Fic***

If you are under the age of 18, leave. Thank you.

Warnings: Kitty hybrid reader, smut, fingering, unprotected sex, praise kink (?), reader has insecurities, Shouta is soft and lowkey feral?, chubby kink (sorta), reader has a heat for the first time, barely implied virginity loss, a touch of dacryphilia

Word Count: 2.4 k

Author’s Note: This is inspired by @cupcake-rogue ’s fic Not Allowed on the Bed. I got permission to use it as inspo so here we are! Tbh the orignal had me feeling all sorts of feelings because, as a very subby sub that loves to please, I definitely have a praise kink and I WILL CRY if I’m called a bad girl. HOWEVER, Katsuki being the rough-around-the-edges guy he is wanting reader regardless of size made me very happy and warm and fuzzy. 

The premise with this is pretty much the same, except I made reader a kitty hybrid...and of course I wrote for Shouta, love of my life he is. I’m such a fucking simp. I’m not the biggest fan of the ending, but this has been sitting in my WIPs for too damn long and it’s decent enough for me to feel ok posting it.

Also, for reference, reader has black fur regardless of hair color. Reader could be blonde, but still have black ears and tail. That’s just the way I’ve chosen to write this for some reason, don’t ask me why, I’m weird like that. 

I think this is the first time I’ve written for a hybrid, so cut me a little slack.

Anywho, enjoy~

*

*

*

You can’t remember life outside the shelter. You’d grown up here, the caretakers said they’d found you on the street as a nearly newborn kitten and immediately scooped you up and brought you back here. That was a long time ago. Now you sit, waiting, your hopes for getting adopted diminishing with every passing day.

It’s unfortunate, but you still haven’t been adopted. It’s not that you’re bad, you always behave, you make sure you do. But you’ve overheard time and time again the people that gazed down at you and whispered about how you were too chunky, too big and too squishy for a kitty hybrid. And some even called you bad luck. The pitch black fur on your ears and tail warded off many.

Today was just the same as any other day. Wake up, get fed, wait in your room while potential owners pick and choose not you. Adults and children alike would take chunks out of their time to play with you, but they all left the shelter with another smaller cat. It was nearing bed time now, dinner just finished and the caretakers were about to start closing when the little bell on the front door jingled. Someone had just come in. You ignored it all the same.

Two pairs of footsteps began making their way past rooms, whoever it was that had entered smelled good, like coffee and tree bark. A smooth hum accompanied the caretaker’s voice, it made your ears twitch and tail sway gently. Still, you decided to just curl up in bed and try to sleep. The chance of him adopting you was slim, if it existed at all.

As you lay there your ears pick up their footsteps, the lazy set that dragged familiar, the nearly silent set less so. You listened as they came closer, never stopping as the man strode past each room and peered in the windows. You waited for them to pass right by your room, as they had been, but suddenly the footsteps halted. The caretaker spoke first.

“Y/n? You awake?” You let your eyes flutter open and sat up, tucking your legs under you and sitting up straight. They asked the man if he wanted to go in and see you, and he gave a simple nod. When he entered you finally looked up at him. The first thing you noticed were his eyes, tired and bloodshot with dark circles beneath them, a deep scar curved under his right eye. His long black hair fell around his shoulders, swaying lightly with every measured step he took toward you.

He stopped right in front of you, a large hand stretching out and you give it a small sniff before nudging your head into it, letting him pet your hair and scratch at the base of your ears. It felt nice to be getting attention like this. A small purr sounded in your chest, your tail gently swishing behind you.

“How long have you been here?” His voice is deep and calm, tired even, but it sounds so welcoming. It’s so soothing to your sensitive ears, like a warm blanket. You give a small hum before answering.

“A long time. I don’t remember anything outside this place.” At that he raised an eyebrow, turning to the caretaker with a questioning look.

“Most people look for...specific traits in the cat hybrids. Y/n here is well behaved, a perfect house kitty really,” you purred a bit at the praise, “But she’s a little larger than most. And her black fur wards off the more superstitious.” The man gives a curious hum before looking back down at you.

“Do you want to come home with me, kitty?” The question caught you a little off guard. Nobody really asked the hybrids if they wanted to go with them. You looked over to the caretaker, who nodded their head with a gentle smile, encouraging you to answer. All you could do was give a small nod, and soon you were in the car, on the way to your new home.

He’d told you to call him Shouta. He was nice, always quiet and never got mad. He never smiled, but you supposed that’s just the way he is. He gave you your own room, and always let you rub up on him when you wanted to, taking the opportunity to pet you. Occasionally you got the odd kiss on the forehead when you nuzzled into his neck. Those always made you purr. He never came seeking you out, which was good since there were times you really didn’t want to be touched. 

The longer you’re with him the closer you get, and you find yourself doing things you’d never thought to do before. Sometimes you found the floor more comfortable than the couch, and would kneel down and rub up on his leg, your tail wrapping around his ankle. There were times you’d see his fingers idly drumming on his lap, and you’d lay down and nibble on one with your little fang-like canines. He didn’t seem to mind that little oral fixation, and he always let you do whatever you wanted. All in all, life with Shouta is great.

But today you feel weird. You’d been cooped up in your room for the first hour or so of the weekend morning, not quite wanting to go out and make it known something was off. But it’s gotten abnormally hot, your face and chest especially warm, and between your legs as well. Your panties are beginning to feel damp, your thighs starting to feel humid and sticky. It’s a little uncomfortable. And your tummy is starting to boil, neediness beginning to cloud your mind. This never happened at the shelter.

Reluctantly, you step out of bed onto slightly wobbly legs and peek your head out of your door to see him sitting on the couch, a book in hand and a mug of coffee on the table. His hair is loose, his strong lean body relaxed as he read. The sight of him and his scent made the feeling worse, made your panties and thighs wetter, your chest beginning to heave with your panted breaths. 

“Sh-shouta…” Your voice came out shakier and quieter than you wanted it to, but he’d heard you regardless. He closed the book and peered over at your shaking form in the doorway.

“What is it kitty?” You nearly mewled at his voice, his heavenly smooth baritone sending a shiver down your spine through to the tip of your tail.

“Something’s wrong...I feel weird…” As you tell him about everything that’s happening to your body, he’s dragging his eyes over you, taking in every detail. Soon he’s on the phone with the doctor, you can’t quite comprehend his words, only catching snippets. ‘Help’ and ‘how long’, followed by agreeing hums. It was all jumbled after that, your mind refusing to focus as you leaned heavily on the doorframe, your quivering legs barely able to hold your body.

Shouta’s large hand came up and cupped your cheek, letting you nuzzle into his palm. When had he hung up the phone? He ordered you to sit on the bed, and you obliged, watching as he swept up his hair into a loose bun and strode over, tilting your chin to look up at him through half-lidded eyes. He’s so close, his scent overwhelming and making your brain fuzzy.

“You’re in heat, kitty.” Heat...where had you heard that before? Back at the shelter, maybe? It was all a distant, unfocused memory right now. Shouta leaned down and kissed you sweetly, lips melding with yours as you purred and mewled, your tail thrashing behind you. His hands tugged at your clothes until you were bare before him, every inch of you on display. 

“You’re such a pretty kitty, you know that? So beautiful. Lay down for me.” The praise made you purr, made a chill crawl up your spine and your tail flick wildly. You obeyed the command, laying flat in the middle of the bed and he slotted himself between your legs, plunging two fingers into your tight hole. He let out a groan, pumping and scicssoring his fingers to stretch you out. You were already a sloppy mess, loud squelches ringing through the room in between your loud, whiny mewls and panting. 

It felt so good, the heat in your belly burning and tightening until Shouta’s fingers curled up into a spot that made stars dance in your vision. The pressure in your belly snapped hard, your legs trembling as he kept fingering you through it. His fingers slowed when you whined about it being too much, too sensitive. But you still felt hot all over, now it was worse, you wanted something so bad but you didn’t know what.

He got up and undressed himself and you licked your lips at his naked body, scarred skin pulled taut over thick muscle. What stood between his legs had heat spreading like fire through your body. You’d never seen a naked man before. He was quick to return to you, slotting his hips between your thighs and guiding the thick head of his cock along your soaked folds. 

“Relax kitty. I’m gonna make you feel good.” You gave a small nod and then he was pushing his thick cock inside you, groaning at the way your pussy clamped down on him. Your tongue lolled out of your mouth as he slowly pushed and pumped his hips, cock dragging along your wet warm walls perfectly. Mewls slipped past your lips, high pitched whines and pants like music in Shouta’s ears. 

His hands wandered over your body, squishing and pulling at every piece of you he could get his calloused fingers on. It made you squirm beneath him, your own hands trying to push his away, but he wasn’t having any of it. He grabbed both your wrists and pinned them above your head in one strong hand, then went right back to groping your body with his free one.

“I can’t have you stopping me from touching you, kitty.” That’s all he said before focusing back on your body. He tugged at your belly, your sides, every place that was fatty and squishy. He’d never admit out loud how much he loved how soft you are. You’re perfect, plump and meaty, just more for him to touch, to look at, more to squeeze and pinch and pull.

He groaned out as you whined beneath him, tears beginning to clump in your lashes because he just kept squeezing, and he isn’t fucking you hard enough. Your orgasm built slowly with his languid pace, not nearly enough to get you to that peak and you were frustrated because you wanted relief but it wouldn’t come. Shouta picks up on your hips jerking and rolling, trying to get him to fucking move faster. He pulled his hips back and slammed back in, setting a brutal pace and making you whine high and long. 

Tears begin to fall from the sheer ecstasy of it, and he’s realizing how much he loves to see you cry from the pleasure he can give you. With a groan, he’s releasing your hands and wrapping his arms around your waist, burying his face into your breasts and biting and sucking at your skin as he pounds you into the mattress. He isn’t normally an impulsive man, wouldn’t let himself let go like this. But for you. For you he’d give in to his lust and ravage you like you need him to.

Your orgasm slams over your body like a tsunami, your muscles locking up and a loud yip ringing from your throat, pleasure making your whole body shake. Shouta let out a hiss, your nails digging into the muscles in his back furiously, but he wouldn’t stop for that. He never stuttered in his pace, just kept ramming his hips into yours, heavy balls slapping against your ass and lewd squelches coming from where your bodies are connected. 

You’re overstimulated, throat feeling raw and tears still falling down your heated cheeks as you thrash from another orgasm, this one just as powerful as the last and making your vision spot black. This time Shouta leans back, wrapping a hand around your throat and licking the salty trails away.

“Such a good little kitty for me, so good.” With a few more thrusts he’s spilling inside you, and you can feel the warmth spread in your belly as you lay there, boneless. He lays down on top of you, both of you sweaty and tired and he starts whispering sweet words into your twitching ears.

“So pretty. You’re so pretty, kitten.” 

“Such a good girl for me.”

“You’re all mine, kitty. So good, all for me.” Tears begin to spill from your eyes for a different reason. Up until now you’d lived your life believing nobody wanted you because there was something wrong with you. You never felt ugly, never really felt like there was something truly wrong with you, but you always felt...unwanted. Unloved. Unlovable. 

But Shouta makes you feel wanted, and loved, and pretty and all the things you always assumed you didn’t deserve. You’re his kitty now, and you’re such a good kitty for him too. He’s showering you with affection that you’d never known before and you’re shaking from all the overwhelming emotions. He can feel your body quivering, leans back to look at you and cups your face in his warm palm.

“What’s wrong, kitten? Why are you crying?” Your nose twitches as you sniffle, which he mildly notes is fucking adorable.

“Do you mean it? Am I a good kitty?” His eyebrows furrow and he rolls the both of you over so you’re on top of him. He’s peering into your big sad eyes as if reading your soul through them, trying to read the emotions you’re feeling, but it isn’t hard for him to figure out what’s racing through your mind. You nuzzle your nose into his neck and breathe in his scent, his hand coming up to pet your hair and ears.

“Of course, kitten. You’re such a good kitty.” The small reassurance makes you feel warm and happy, your tail flicking softly before curling around both your leg and Shouta’s, the end brushing his skin gently. You can’t help but want to stay with Shouta forever.

[quellmythirst]

House Hunting Part 11

Summary: You are the youngest child of Frank and Maria Castle. Your dads best mate offers to help you find a new place in the city. The only problem being you’ve had a crush on him since forever.

Pairing: Castle!Reader (you) x Billy Russo

Words: 1.7k

A/n: So, yeah. This is filth. Like, I can only imagine it’s going to get worse, the more unhinged about this I become.

Warnings: Big ol’ age gap, dad’s best friend, daddy kink, teasing, smut, alcohol, swearing, violence, dirty talk. 18+ ONLY MINORS DNI

An: Is this super boring? Probably? I don't even care. This is where they went today so I had to go with them.

Part 10

“Hey pa,” you said sheepishly, walking out of the bathroom, drying your hair on a plush towel. You pussy still throbbing slightly from the working over Billy had given you earlier. You took deliberate steps making sure you didn't display any discomfort. The only person who seemed to notice was Billy who hid his chuckle behind a cough.

Billy’s large sweatpants and hoodie hung from your body when Frank picked you up into an all encompassing bear hug. He had always given the best hugs, they always made you feel like you were the tiny papa’s girl you had been long ago, coming home from your first day of school where all of the kids picked on you for being Lisa’s dorky kid sister.

“Hey kiddo, how you feelin?” he asked, stepping back with his hands on your shoulders, “Want me to take you back home?”

“N-no,” you stuttered, wrapping your arms around him, resting your head against his chest. You saw Billy giving you a sly smile, his face appeared worried, but you saw the way his eyes raked over your body at the sight of you in his ill fitting clothes. You saw him stop at the point where the hoodie fell off your shoulder. To your father it just appeared like he watching the way you both embrace each other. You in turn peer under your fathers arm watching Billy's ass in those grey sweatpants as he walks into the kitchen asking your father if he wants a coffee. You thought you were fine, thought that you were still angry and vengeful. But with the warm arms of your father holding you tight, you felt the emotions well up inside and begin to shake your body, “Pa, it was awful.” you let out a cry, “That man,” you felt the damp prick of tears swell in your eyes and blinked hard to release them, “What if-” hiccup “What if they know where I live?”

“It’ll be alright, kiddo. Me and your Uncle Bill will sort it out,” He said, stroking your hair and holding you tightly, “I ain’t gunna let anything happen to you,” you clutched to his shirt, nodding into him as he reassured you that you were safe, protected and he was there for you. “Why don’t I take you home, you can grab some of your stuff and then you can come and stay with your ma and me,”

“No, what if they come to the house-” you voice trembling, “I couldn’t-” you shook your head, “Can’t I just stay here?” you looked up at Billy, knowing that, that was exactly what he wanted. But all you could focus on was those same meaty hands wrapped around your mother’s throat and them doing something even worse to her.

“I mean, if it's ok with Bill?” he asked, looking at Billy.

“No, trouble. My home is yours, you know that Frankie,” Billy smiled, “If she feels safe here, she is welcome to stay,”

“I’m staying too,” Frank said, and your eyes bulged at Billy, surely this wasn’t a part of his plan? But he should have expected for your father to stay close to you after such a blatant thigh. “Wanna grab me a spare blanket for the couch?”

“Uh, yeh. I’ll go grab some,” Billy said, standing from the bar stool and heading down the hallway.

“You sure you'll be alright here, kiddo? Don't wanna come and stay with your Ma and me?” he asked.

“I’m sure Pa,” you nodded, helping him take the cushions off the couch, “and with you here, I'll be doubly safe.”

“It’ll be alright kidddo, we’ll take you home to grab some things in the morning. Ok? Get some rest,” he said, kissing you on the forehead before taking the blanket Billy offered him and shaking it over the couch, “Need me to tuck you in like I used to?” he offered as he wrapped you in another protective hug.

“I think I just need some sleep, it’s late.”

“You know where the guest room is Y/n,” he said, throwing the words over his shoulder, he had been trying so hard for the last 10 minutes to keep his eyes off you and focus on Frank, “You sure you don't need us to check under the bed for monsters?” Billy joked, playing hitting your father on the shoulder, hoping to lighten the mood somewhat.

“I'll be fine, you guys aren't going anywhere are you?” you asked, tucking your face half into the hoodie.

“Not a chance,” they both said at the same time, your father gave you a hug and began setting up the couch to make room for him to fit on the sleek couch.

Snaking your hands into the sleeves of the hoodie, you brought them up to your face, wiping the tears away. Whispering a quiet goodnight to them before heading down the hall. You looked behind you to see Billy and your father discussing the events of the night, you assumed with the way their eyes kept darting towards you.

You made it down to the guest room that you had allegedly slept in a few times. With the door closed behind you, the events of the day suddenly slammed back into your chest. Someone had tried to take you, they had tried to- you began crying again, your back sliding against the door as your ass hit the floor, "What's wrong with me?" you whispered to yourself, the towel slipping from your hair and onto the floor next to you. When did you get so defenseless, that you needed a man to swoop in and save you? Wiping the tears away with the sleeves of Billy’s hoodie you inhaled his scent, if he hadn’t been there, what if- No, you couldn't think like that, you were fine. Here. Safe in Billy's apartment, with the 2 scariest men you knew.

Reaching up your arm and flicking the light on, you cringe at the sudden burst of light. When your eyes adjust you see a small leather daybed pressed up against a wall, with a soft white knitted blanket falling over the end. A small desk was pressed into the corner of the room, a small lamp and a notebook sitting in the middle of it. The walls of the room were lined with empty shelves, if you excluded the dust. Boxes marked books, piled up on the floor with even more books stacked on top of them.

Shaking the darker thoughts from your head, you needed something else to focus on and with your main distraction currently out of arm's reach it would have to be something in this room. Brushing your hair from your face, you picked up a book, inspecting the cover and opening it up. Was this a first edition of Frankenstein? Fuck. Taking your towel from the floor you wipe down all the shelves, inspecting each book before placing them neatly on the shelf, but not before taking a good whiff of the dusty old pages, checking the dates and placing the older copies on the middle shelf to protect them from the dust. How had he even gotten some of these? A collectors edition of The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. A second printing of The picture of Dorian Grey from 1891. The library freak inside you was squealing as you made your way through his collection, wondering why some of these were not in plastic sleeves.

You lost track of time, your head buried in a mountain of books and curiosity. You sat down to open the last box when you heard a small knock on your door. The door knob turned slowly and you looked up from the floor at Billy, he kneeled down his hand brushing across your cheek before resting on your jawline.

“Sorry, I had to wait for Frankie to go to sleep,” he leaned down, “Why are you covered in dust?” his voice was soft as silk, when he wiped some from your nose.

“I-ah,” you gestured to the wall, now covered in limited edition copies of some of your favourite books, “I needed the distraction,” with your actions staling, the feelings began to creep back up on you. You felt your blood running hot, you wanted to run, fight something, anything but continue to sit still.

“You did all this?” he smiled, leaning down to capture your lips in a kiss. You pressed your hand into his chest, attempting to push him away, “I’ve been meaning to get to that,” you just shrugged, putting the book in your hand down and wrapping your arms around your knees.

“Maybe you should go to your own bed Billy,” you mumbled into your neck, “Don’t want Pa to kill me, after someone already failed tonight,” you felt a small sob leave your throat, relief washed over you. You felt safe with him, he wouldn't let anyone hurt you.

“If that's what you want,” he sighed and pulled your hand from over your legs, making you look up at him. He took note of your sniffly nose and your puffy eyes, “Aww little girl,” he cooed, his hand coming to rest over your shoulders, he hugged you close to him, “It’s gunna be ok,” his head resting atop yours.

“What if they come back?” you whispered, your voice breaking a little when you spoke.

“Derek's gunna find out what that guy knows and me and your pa are gunna sort it ok,” you nodded, “I won’t let anyone hurt you, ever.” he kissed your hair, a promise if you ever heard one, “Not even Frank,” you giggled at that. Billy was a big scary man, but you doubted he was bigger and scarier than Lt Frank Castle.

“Billy,”

“Shh, shh, It's gunna be ok,”

“Can you tuck me in?” you looked over at the day bed, wondering just how comfortable it would be to sleep on.

“You wanna sleep in here? Why not come to bed?” he asked softly

“I just- with Pa here, could you-” you gave him your best puppy dog eyes, you didn't even finish your sentence before his arms were under your legs scooping you up and placing you on the daybed. Taking the blanket from the bottom, spreading it over you, placing a kiss on your forehead.

“I better go,” he said reluctantly, drawing away from you.

“Stay, please,” you begged, holding out your hand to him, you were worried about what would happen if Frank caught you. But the more pressing issue at this second was that you would fall apart the moment you were left alone again.

“What about?” his eyes darted towards the door, he was telling you the truth when he said he wouldn't let anyone hurt you, "We could just tell him?" he offered, hoping that it might ease at least one of your worries.

“I can't deal with that right now," you yawned, "Could you just hold my hand?” you asked, flexing your hand at him, “I don't really wanna be alone,” he sat down next to you on the bed, removing his phone from his pocket and you assume setting an alarm. He took your hand in his, leaving a little kiss on the back of it before placing it in his lap, his free arm reaching behind you and pulling him onto yourself “Thanks, I feel safer with you here,”

“Not going anywhere, little girl,”

Part 12

Taglist:

@mrs-billyrussooo

@pedropascalfanclub

@nikki-sixx-is-daddy

@spear-bearing-bi-witch

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[ladyvesuvia]

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@justadreamyhufflepuff: GSJSVSKSBSJD BABY CONGRATS- CAN I PLEASE GET A ���� -> Harry potter + soft love + fluff + prompts 9, 10, 32, 42 from prompt list 1. || for my 300 followers celebration

Prompts:

9. “You took all the pillows so I’m using you as one.”

10. “Stop moving and let me braid your hair.”

32. “Make a wish!”

42. “Darling I love you and all, but please step out of the kitchen.”

Pairing: Harry Potter x Fem!Reader

Summary: Moving into your new house with Harry.

Words: 3.1k

Warnings: fluff but with slight and subtle mentions of sexual activities + let me know if i missed anything!

A/N: omg yay harry fluff :DDD ok sorry go ahead btw this hasn’t been proofread yet mbad

After years of setting things up, they could finally move into their house. Of course, there were some parts of it that still needed fixing but they’ll eventually work it out. Right now, they wanted to bask in the comfort and triumph of their own house.

“Got your key?” said [Y/N], holding out her own key. She had already attached a duck keychain to it.

“Got it,” replied Harry, showing her his own. They both sniggered at his ridiculous bathtub keychain, which looked undeniably out of place but she was glad for it nonetheless. See, she had bought it years ago when they first talked about getting a house. “Will you do the honors?”

“You know, we could easily Alohomora the heck out of this bas —”

“Do the honors,” he teasingly urged, poking her on the waist where her tickle spot was and she recoiled. “Do it, [Y/L/N].”

“Ha! I’m Potter now, too. Ergo you’re not so special anymore,” she said as she marched up the raised porch. It was a lovely sight indeed — she could already imagine inviting the others to come over: roasting marshmallows either here or at the backyard and such. She giddily walked towards the door. This is it, she thought. “Wait, this is unfair. You carry me as you open it so I’ll be like a pretty wife.”

“That you are,” said Harry as he scooped her up into his arms. She let out a whoop of approval, patting his cheek as he put the key in and swung the door open.

All their boxes were on the floor already, with a lot more scattered all over the house. “Ooh, this is a lot of work. Wanna sleep it off?” she yawned, kicking some boxes aside on her way to the stairs. “What, you gonna protest, Mr. Potter?”

“Not at all, Mrs. Potter,” said Harry, and they both stopped and looked at each other, eyes narrowed while scrutinizing the name. “Mrs. Potter.”

“Does it sound a bit weird to you? I mean, no offense. I mean, I’ve waited for this half of my life but — you know?

“Yeah, like, [Y/N] Potter,” he said again, making arm gestures as if parting a curtain. She started to laugh. “I see what you mean.”

“You look like a . . . getching shooba driver but on land,” she said with a yawn.

“A what?” This time, Harry was the one stifling his laughter.

“Glitching scuba diver on land,” spat [Y/N], taking off her jacket. When she saw he’d been eyeing her with a dazed expression on his face, she made a show of getting off her right jacket sleeve with a suggestive smile on her face. “Wait, uh, can’t get it off. Sweat, I think. Help?”

“Will do, will do,” said Harry, approaching her and reaching out to pull it off her with a tight smile in an awful attempt to keep his laughter.

“Whatever. Can we sleep now, please? Where’s our bed again?”

“There,” he pointed somewhere in the kitchen room.

“I thought our room was upstairs?”

“Our room is upstairs, the bed is here.”

“Why would that be the ca—oh, no. D’we really have to assemble it?” she whined. They had to travel by Muggle transportation due to issues with the Floo network and they wanted to minimize suspicion, and the it was finally taking its toll on their entire energy: [Y/N]’s back was cramping from the long ride, Harry’s head was already hurting like hell. To make matters worse, neighbors were peeking through their windows so they had to go inside immediately.

“No, we can just bring the mattress up and assemble it all tomorrow, yeah?”

“Oh, yeah,” she said with a moan, tossing the jacket on the kitchen counter. “Yeah, yeah.”

“Oh, are we — ?” He shrugged hesitantly.

“No! I mean, do you want to? Now?”

“Do you?” The two chuckled nervously. They were standing there for probably around half a minute or one when the doorbell dinged and the two of them jumped. [Y/N] volunteered to get it.

A woman younger than her for about a year stood in front of her doorstep when she swung the door open, carrying a tiny baby probably about a few months old in her arms. [Y/N] managed a friendly smile as she wiped away a drop of sweat from her forehead.

“Hi, welcome to the neighborhood. I’m Karolina Martin. I live right across and I brought you something!”

“The . . . baby?” [Y/N]’s shoulders tensed as she thought about this over an over until she realized that was highly unlikely.

“No! You’re hilarious, though. I like you. I actually came here to give you” — the woman put down a bag she hung over her shoulder down on the floor — “this.”

Inside was a basket with a bottle of what [Y/N] could only assume was fine wine or champagne or whatever it was couples with a number of chocolates and cookies inside. She realized with a start there was also a pot inside.

[Y/N] laughed, holding up the pot. “Funny, because we’re Potters?” she asked, setting it back down again.

“You are?” Karolina said, impressed. “So which do you suggest I should start with first? Stoneware or earthenware? Ooh, what about fire clay?”

It took a few seconds before [Y/N] realized the direction of the conversation. “Oh! Well, heh, not that kind of potter.”

Karolina flinched, eyeing [Y/N] with suspicion. “You smoke — ?”

“No! Not that kind of potter. We don’t smoke po—Sorry, that’s on me, I should have clarified. I’m [Y/N],” she said. Karolina still looked confused. Composing herself, she managed a tight smile. “[Y/N] Potter.”

“Oh! Oh, my goodness. I’m so sorry!” Karolina chuckled. “I was a bit confused, I’m really sorry. I haven’t met someone around here about my age.”

“Don’t worry about it. Thanks for the welcoming gift, by the way. I just moved in with my . . . husband.” It still sounded surreal to call Harry that way, but she liked it all the same. Her eyes fell on the chubby little kid.

“Right! This is baby Sydney, she’s turning six months old next week. Would be really nice if you and your husband could come — and kid or kids, if you have some?” Maybe it was the coos the baby made or her adorable eyes and hints of two teeth growing, but [Y/N] felt intimidated by the little kid. She was bigger than she thought babies would be. Is this what she’d push through her bottom? She shuddered. “Do you . . . want to hold her?” asked Karolina, oblivious to the thoughts going on in [Y/N]’s heads.

“Listen, I’m really grateful you stopped by but we’re kinda tired. I’m so, so, sorry! Thank you a lot for these stuff. We’ll definitely come by next week — me and Harry, just Harry and me.” [Y/N] chuckled nervously again, smiling at the baby.

“I totally understand. Me and Joey were also very tired when we first moved in, hence Sydney.” Karolina laughed. [Y/N] simply chimed in the laughter as well, not wanting to jeopardize a newfound friendship over a joke. “Have a lovely evening, [Y/N]. I’ll see you around!”

When she shut the door with the bag over her shoulder, she jumped in fright at the sight of Harry just behind the door with an amused grin on his face. “What?” said [Y/N] as she rubbed her eyes.

“Husband?” he mused. When she shot him a glare saying not to push it further, he resorted to giggling. “Sorry, my wife.”

“Shut up, Harry,” she said. “Now, where’s that damned mattress?”

“Worry not, I got it upstairs already, all we gotta do now is take a quick shower and go to bed.”

After they finished dressing into more comfortable clothes, they made it a point to plop down as hard as they could on the mattress. To her relief, Harry had settled a plain white bedsheet on top of it earlier while she was talking to Karolina. She was the first to jump in, stretching her legs all over. “Finally!” she exclaimed.

“Your turn,” she said, pointing at a spot right next to her. Harry took off his glasses and was about to jump in next when she asked where the pillows were.

“Er — Accio pillow!” She could hear the sound of boxes moving downstairs bumping each other when a pillow came hurtling in and landed on Harry’s chest, forcing him to plop down on the mattress.

A shrill squeak sounded, and the two of them froze. [Y/N] narrowed her eyes, pointing her finger at him in accusation. “Did you fart?”

“No, we just still haven’t removed the plastic from the mattress.”

“You want to remove it?” she suggested, ready to get up and get her own wand when Harry gently nudged her back down.

“Okay, where’s my wand?“

[Y/N] looked left and right until she found it tying on an old bedside table he managed to set down earlier that day and said, “There! Bedside table.”

“Eh.”

“Agreed, let’s just say you did fart.”

“Agreed,” said Harry, who unconsciously wrapped his legs and arms around the pillow on top of him and closed his eyes to sleep. [Y/N] was quick to act. Not to take his pillow, but to turn him into one — metaphorically, of course. She laughed at the thought of using Transfiguration to turn Harry into a literal pillow.

Just as he wrapped his limbs around the only pillow, [Y/N] did the same to him. He woke up with a jolt, but did not take her off him. “I’m the little spoon?” he asked with a smile.

“Yes, and I happen to like little spoons a lot,” she said casually. Harry turned his head in her direction, with a wide grin on his pretty face. “Okay, that sounded wrong. It’s just that you hogged the only pillow so now I’m using you as one.”

“Well, do you want it?” he offered obliviously.

“Nope, I like this set-up. Go back to sleep.”

And he did — they both did. At some point during the night, they turned each other into a pillow. Harry, however, awoke to the sound of her snoring. It wasn’t like his Uncle Vernon’s, though. Looking at her face seemed to dull it all out. It wasn’t exactly an endearing sound, but the sight of her was more than so — tousled hair, mouth slightly open. . . . With one last smile on his face as he watched her sleep, he felt himself drifting off into a deep slumber.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

A loud clanging from downstairs awoke Harry. Had he overslept? He found that his back ached whenever he did so much as move, but knew better than to bide his time if there was danger nearby. He reached out to the bedside table to grab his wand, but realized he had to put his glasses on first.

Harry ran downstairs, clutching his wand tightly with his outstretched hand as he listened for anything there was to hear. He paused. A stranger walked out of the kitchen, and he pointed his wand at them.

The stranger held their hands up with a bewildered look on their face until [Y/N] came out of the kitchen all sweaty with a frilly apron. “Harry!” she cried in bewilderment at the sight of him pointing his wand at their new neighbor. “Alright, uh, Karolina, this is my husband, Harry; Harry — stop pointing your . . . stick at her — this is our neighbor who lives across from us, Karolina.”

“Er — hello, Karolina. Sorry about the wa—” [Y/N] shot him a dirty look. “—ander. Wander. Sorry about the bad . . . wandering. You know what? I just woke up on the wrong side of bed and I got paranoid with the . . . new house and all.”

“He tends to get jumpy,” said [Y/N] in hopes of wrapping this up immediately. “Anyway, five minutes left till it’s done. Thank you so, so much for the help, Karol! One last thing, for the whipped cream, do I. . .”

He then noticed that some of the furniture were already arranged such as the sofa and the dining table. Some cabinets were decorated with non-magical framed pictures of them. Harry begged to disagree, though. Each picture there was more than just ma— Is that a baby? Sleeping in a car seat on their couch?

Harry blinked. It stirred, eyes fluttering open. Harry was now holding his breath in anticipation. It was watching him curiously. When he did not move, the little thing started to giggle. Smiling sheepishly back, he made a show of raking his hand through his hair and walking into the kitchen.

It was still messy, but the fridge was on now, and some condiments were put where they belonged.

Karolina was washing a bowl on the sink when the baby outside started crying. She washed her hands quick and ran out, excusing herself while smiling apologetically at the two of them.

[Y/N] opened the oven, pulling out something that smelled of a scent that made Harry’s mouth water.

“Is that Treacle Tart?” he blurted out.

[Y/N] almost dropped the pan of delight she held in her mittened hands. She cleared her throat in an attempt to maintain her composure as she set it down on the counter and pulled off her mittens. Still panting, she looked at him and said, “Harry, darling, I love you and all but please step out of the kitchen.”

“Sorry,” he muttered as he pressed a kiss against her head.

“Don’t do that, my hair stinks. I haven’t showered yet,” said [Y/N].

“What do you mean? It smells just fine.”

“Yeah? Well, it’s greasy. Is it greasy?”

“Yeah, you kinda look like Snape from where I’m standing. Ow! Sorry, bad joke. Okay, keep doing what you’re doing while I. . .” he trailed off as he grabbed her wrist gingerly and pulled off the scrunchie off it and started braiding her hair whilst she shook the whipped cream. “Could you just stop moving and let me braid your hair?”

“Oh, shut up! This tart’s for you, anyway.”

“So it is a Treacle Tart?”

“Uh, Doy,” she said mockingly. “It’s for your birthday, genius.”

“But it isn’t till next month,” said Harry.

“Eh, well, thought we could spend some time together in our new house without a crowd for a while. Why’re you even braiding my hair?”

“That baby got me thinking about it,” said Harry, as the child’s sobs started to cease. “You know, like . . . do you think we’re ready?”

“Well, what will be, will be.” She squeezed whipped cream on each side, scanning the final product with narrowed eyes. Harry tied the poorly-done braid with the scrunchie, letting her hair fall down to her back. [Y/N] turned to him. “Honestly, I’m kind of scared about the whole thing, you know? Like, aside from the . . . bloody pushing, it’ll be a huge responsibility. And I want to know if you’re up for it.”

“Okay,” he found himself saying so casually.

“Okay?” [Y/N] repeated to him, with an expression the combination of excitement and disbelief. “Okay as in, ‘okay let’s start trying?’”

“Okay, yes! Let’s start trying now!”

“Okay, but not right now, though,” said [Y/N] under her breath.

“Why not?” he said. Merlin, I have to stop.

“For one, Karolina’s right there at the doorway with Sydney.”

Harry shifted his gaze from [Y/N] to Karolina, who was now trying hard to stifle her laugh with a sleeping Sydney in her arms. “Okay, I’m gonna pretend I didn’t just hear that,” she said with a suggestive smile. “I’ll get going now, [Y/N], Harry.”

“Oh, you won’t try the Treacle Tart out?” called out [Y/N].

“Nah, we’ve eaten a lot of that already. We’re having cheesecake for tonight. Anyway, see you two.” With a friendly wave, she went off her way, leaving the two of them alone in their house.

Harry expected her to berate him, but she was already facing him with a slice of a tart resting neatly on a plate with a lousy candle set in the middle of it. “Make a wish,” she told him.

“Uh. . . I’m bad at wishes, you know that.”

“Then wish to be better at making wishes then make a better wish next month,” she said.

“Okay, I wish to be better at making wishes,” said Harry before blowing the candle out. [Y/N] pulled off the candle and lead him to the living room, where she put down the pan and separated the entire thing to put it on an adorable floral plate she loved.

“Happy super advanced birthday, Just Harry,” said [Y/N], kissing his head this time. “Have some Treacle Tart. I tried, okay?” Laughing, she put a fork on his plate and went to slice one for herself.

“Thank you, soft love,” said Harry as he helped himself to his slice. “Merlin, this is per—”

[Y/N] bursted into laughter, a couple crumbs spitting on the table. She had to get a tissue and wipe the table as she bellowed. “What’d you say?”

“Soft . . . love. Does that mean something bad?”

“No, no, no. It’s just funny to hear it from you. Say it again,” she said, resting her elbow on the top rail of a chair, eager to hear him.

“Soft love?” said Harry hesitantly.

“Oh my— Who told you to say that? Where’d you learn that?” choked [Y/N], wiping tears of laughter from her eyes. “Okay, sorry.”

“Er — you see, before we left to go here, Ron told me to experiment with . . . pet names.”

“So you delivered?”

“Do you not like it?” said Harry, his fork frozen in mid-air.

“Oh, I do. I so do,” she replied, chuckling. “I’ve had enough of tough love, I could use some soft love. But d’you know what it means?”

When Harry shook his head, she took one step forward to run her hand through his hair, grinning. “Means you accept all flaws instead of trying to build up a wall just to better and correct those flaws.”

“Then what’s so funny?” he asked with genuine curiosity rather than annoyance.

“Oh, Harry. Nothing! I just find you trying new stuff very, very amusing. Moving in here was a good choice, you know. Now I get to find out new things about you,” said [Y/N].

Harry smiled back, his cheeks a tad warmer than usual. “So which do you prefer? Tough love or soft love?”

“Eh, a relationship can’t work with just one of the two. Both works. Now eat your slice before we get working on this house,” said [Y/N] as she snapped her fingers, picking up her own plate and savoring her own work. “Chop chop.”

“You mean home?”

“Yep, I mean home,” answered [Y/N] without any hesitation. Oh, and, just one small update: they didn’t remove the plastic wrap of the mattress until next week.

Taglist: @gingerale2017 @maybanksslut @hey-there-angels @mrzweasley @gwlvr @booksarealwaysbettersworlds-blog @greenlyblue @henqtic @meiitanoia @badass-yn @catching-the-train-to-hogwarts

[thatsarcasticgemini]

Alone time

Ash Lynx x reader

A/n: Banana fish broke me, but writing is my coping mechanism, so...This is an AU where Ash and the reader are married and live in Japan, Ash being a model. Also, Shorter is alive cause I said do ( i would die for him to live tbh). I am so sorry for any mistakes.

     Babysitting is a very challenging task, especially when the kid is a carbon copy of the most intelligent, cheeky and bratty man Eiji had ever met. Isaac Callenreese was giving the man a headache and pills were not fixing it. Sure, he knew what he was getting into and knew how much Ash and Y/N needed a break from parenting, but why on earth did he agree? At least Shorter was there to help him right?

     Wrong! Shorter was like a second kid. Yelling, running, coloring, making a mess and getting little Isaac even more agitated. Just how much energy did the 5 year old have? 

“Shorter, please! You are 30! Your playing days are over. You’re gonna break something and I will yell. I almost had Isaac under control, but then you came along to ruin the peace we had. Isaac come here right now or I’ll call Ash!”

“Jeez, Eiji...you almost sound like a grandpa! I haven’t seen Isaac in about a year. I missed him a lot, you know? Little gremlin did a lot of growing up!” said Shorter, with the same goofy smile he had all those years ago. Isaac was seated on the his lap, looking up at his favourite uncle with a wide grin. Based off the resemblance between him and Ash, Eiji could already sense some sort of comment coming.

“Nuh-uh. I wanna stay right here. Call dad “dad” please. And I love uncle Shorter, he’s taller, funnier and smarter than you, uncle Ji. He was telling me how dad knows how to ride a motocycle! It doesn’t get better than this!”

“Yes it does. If you stay quiet for five more minutes, I can get the rice done and I can tell you how Ash and Y/N..”

“Mom and dad, uncle Ji!”

“How mom and dad met while we eat. Does that sound nice?”

“Dunno, let me ask uncle Shorter too.” The two began whispering to each other while Eiji rolled his eyes. Just one more hour and Ash would be here to pick his spawn up. After a minute, both Shorter and Isaac nodded their heads and went to sit down at the kitche table.

     Once the table was set and the rice was done cooking, Eiji put it is bowls are brought it to the table. They all dug in, but Isaac seemed to be watching Eiji with great intrest, expecting the story he was promised.

“So Ash and Y/N...”

“Mom and dad. Continue uncle Ji.”

“Mom and dad met around 9 years ago. They met here, in Tokyo, and I am proud to announce that I am the one who got them to meet up, since Y/N went to the same highschool as me. We were both on the drama club in my third year. She was about 2 years younger than me, but she was so mature. Anyway, they started dating around three months after they met. The had a really pretty relationship. You dad was so hooked he embarrassed himself in front of her on multiple ocations. They got married two years later, lived together for two more years and then you came along. You were a very loved little boy. I wish I took a picture of the face your dad made when he held you for the first time.”

“Yeah! He teared up, but don’t tell him you know. You had this little puff of blond hair on your head, it was as fluffy as the little kitty we saw this morning, if not fluffier.” Isaac had look in his eyes that Eiji had only seen once before and that was when Ash told him about Dino and his childhood. The tiny blond seemed to be so vulnarable almost like a porcelain figure. 

“What about mom? Was she happy to see me?” There it was. The love Isaac, much like his father, held for her. It was like they would both die if it wasn’t for her love.

“Well of course she was. She really loves you, you know? Your mom loved you even before she had the pleasure of holding you. You have been one of her favourite people ever since she found out you were in her belly. They both love you a lot.”

“Then why am I here? Why wouldn’t they take me with them? Why do they want alone time?” Eiji couldn’t find an answer. He looked at Shorter, who still had that dumb grin.

“Well, Isaac, mom and dad need to rest every once in a while. Since mom got pregnant with your brother or sister, she hasn’t really been able to rest properly, so dad wanted alone time with her to help her rest, but I am sure they will both be so very happy to see you.”

     Just like magic, there was a knock at the door, Eiji went to open it, while Isaac trailed behind him, with his little backpack in hand. The door opened to reveal Ash and the boy jumped in his arms at the speed of light. 

“Wow! Hi bub! I missed you so much. How was today hmm? Did you have fun with uncle Ji and uncle Shorter? Were they nice to you?”

“Mhm, they told me how you and mama met. I miss mama, is she in the car?”

“No bub, she’s at home. She missed you too. Told me we should race all of the cars and get home in under ten minutes. We have cake.” And with that, Isaac was set back on the ground and the little boy dashed to the car. 

“Damn gremlin didn’t even say bye. Here i was thinking we have something special.”

“Hi Shorter! Hi Eiji! I can’t thank you enough for tonight. She really needed it.” 

“It’s ok Ash. He is a little loud and Shorter here is never truly helpful, but it’s our pleasure. Are Y/N and the baby ok?”

“Hm, not really. I mean the baby seems to be fine, but she isn’t. Throws up everything she eats. The doctor said it is because her body is getting used to the pregnancy, but this didn’t happen when we had Isaac. I’m just worried for her.”

“She’s strong. She can take it I’m sure.” Shorter nodded, agreeing with Eiji’s statement. 

“I know Eiji, I’m not worried about that. Truth is she seems happy to be pregnant. She’s beaming all the time, even after she got everything she ate out, and I feel bad. I feel like she’s in pain. Her smile makes me feel even worse.” Shorter laid a hand on his best friend’s shoulder, taking his sunglasses off. 

“Ash...listen to me. Y/N is someone who’s never lied to you about anything. She’s been genuine about everything. She would never fake a smile and she would tell you if she wanted to abort the baby. The fact that she’s smiling and being her bubbly self only means that the pregnacy isn’t that hard on her. Trust me Ash. I see the look in her eyes when the baby is brought up in any conversation. She’ll be fine. You’ll be a bigger family. Loosen up a little.” 

“Thank you Shorter. I owe both of you a drink. I’ll call you. Thank you for babysitting again.” And with that, all three of tehm smiled at each other while Ash picked the tiny shark backpack and went back to the car.

     Once inside, the older blond turned towards the younger one, smiling.

“Ready to see mom, bub?”

“Mhm! Is she feeling better?”

“Yep.”

     The car ride was one of the happy moments Ash wanted to hold onto. The sang together and talked about how Shorter told Isaac about the motorcycle.

“It’s true, you know? I do know how to ride one. When you’re older, I can teach you too.”

“I wanna ride one now. I’ve seen my friends with theirs, I want one too!”

“Those are lame. I’m talking about the real ones. That’s the true fun.”

     Once at home, Ash dropped everything on the floor and went to help his son hung his coat on the wall. The little boy jumped out of his red sneakers and ran down the hall yelling for his mom. 

“In the kitchen baby. I was cutting you a slice of cake.It’s vanilla, since I know you like the chocolate one’s less. Where’s daddy?”

“Right behind you.” said Ash, placing his hands on her hips and swaying her a little. She turned around to give him a kiss on the cheek, but her 5 month bump got in the way, making her pull a frustred face and Ash smile even more. Isaac pushed his dad to the side a little, making grabby hands at his mom. No matter how old he acted, his real age was always given away by his gestures around his mom. 

     Getting his slice of cake, Isaac turned back towards the living room. Eating on the couch was never truly forbidden.

“Mama, tomorrow is Yuri’s birthday. He celebrating it at home, I have the invitation in my drawing notebook. Can I go?”

“Sure you can. we just have to go buy a gift in the morning.”

“A birthday huh? That means a little more alone time for us two.” Y/N hid her face in her husband’s neck, smiling a little. Ash’s finger went to the back of her neck, getting her to look up at him to give her a kiss, but then...

“Gross! He likes cars mama, go brainstorm on that insted of smooching dad in the kitchen!”

[heartfulofsighs]

Nice Things…

Hello All! Coming back with little writings here and there as my inspiration comes along. A little episode inside of the Something to do with Jackson sphere (1, 2) 

Let me know what you think! @negrowhat you know I gotta tag you in everything lol

Jackson decides you both are in need of a little rest and relaxation. Nothing is better then a nice beach house complete with a gigantic bath tub. 

About 4k words; Warnings: Very light smut like its super light, but I’m obligated to say it includes fingering a praise kink and a bathtub. 

Laundry shouldn’t be difficult. Well in retrospect it wasn’t difficult at your old apartment. The laundry room there was stocked with 5 very old very worn washing and drying machines. They were faithful and predictable. They only had about 3 options and 2 dials. Simplicity at its best. You missed them every time you had a load to wash and dry. You had been living in Jackson’s apartment for months and you still couldn’t figure out his machines. For one thing they were sleek and black, very modern, apparently super efficient. They worked via a touch screen and the breath of options that appeared every time you fired them up made you nervous. Twice you had shrunk a favorite article of clothing. You had also ruined your running shoes, the washing machine seemed incredibly aggressive to you. But today was going to be different. This was your only task. You could do this. The touch screen lit up, you took a breath, the beeping started and an array of options appeared. Water temperatures, agitation speeds, your finger hovered over the first option- “BABY, THIS IS WHERE YOU WERE!?” Jackson’s voice boomed in the laundry room. You turned, frantic that all his noise would upset whatever fragile understanding you had. “Jackson!” You hissed, “shush!”

  His hands snapped to cover his mouth. He looked around his brows knitted, “what’s going on?” He whispered. “I’ just,” you turned back to the machine but you didn’t feel the same confidence, “I’m trying to figure out your stupid space aged washing machine.” You confessed, “everytime I put something in here I ruin it.” “Maybe you’re thinking about it too hard.” He walked up behind you and looked down at the same screen. “Baby?” He began slowly, he touched the screen flicking left twice until he got to a place that said ‘presets’.  “Why don’t you just use these instead of trying to pick through all those other settings? This is what I use.” “You’ve got to be kidding me.” You muttered softly. There were easy to understand presets displayed proudly.   “You didn’t know about these?” He asked, “I could have sworn I showed you the last time you shrunk your sweater?” You rubbed your face in continued disbelief. All this time. “The dryer has presets too, did I show you those?” He kept talking because of course to him this wasn’t a big deal. You had made it one, once again, something tiny had become huge to you.   “You want me to help you with your laundry? Since I’m home today I wanna spend it with you ok?” When you took your hands away from your face he was beaming like the sun at you. You wondered how he could look so worry free. His job was so stressful, he barely got time for himself or you yet he was always beaming. You wanted to be a bit more like him. Just enough so that inanimate objects stopped irritating you for no reason.            “If you want to help sure, but this stuff is kinda boring. You sure you don’t want to nap? Or I could make you something to eat?” You offered.          “We can do that after, this won’t take long.” He pointed out. He wasn’t wrong. You selected the ‘delicates’ option since you wanted to wash your undies and bras first.          “Ok, delicates first then.” You looked in his direction expectantly. The two baskets of laundry were already separated.            “Just pass me the stuff in the blue basket.”  You instructed, “I’ll do them first.”   He dutifully began to hand you clothes. Some things he stopped to look at. “When did you get this bra?” He asked holding up a flowery bra that you had bought a few weeks ago.   “Like two weeks ago?” You guessed, maybe three. Your hand was outstretched waiting for it. “Oh,” was all he said before he handed it over, “I haven’t see you wear it.” He said softer. “Well, it’s a bra Jackson…” You tried. He handed you a few pairs of underwear which you put in. He was a touch less cheerful as you finished loading. He helped with the detergent and softner before he got the machine started. “I feel so dumb,” when you turned to him he frowned. “I really wish I had remembered about the presets. I’ve been having a battle with this machine since I got here.” You confessed. “Baby...I really don’t think it’s a big deal.” He leaned down and pecked you. “You can ask me questions you know? Before you make a mountain out of a molehill.” “But I’m so good at that.”  You pointed out. He kissed you again. His hands trailing down your arms. When you pulled away he pouted. “Let me at least finish the chores, I have a few things more I wanna clean.” You complained. He accepted this and let you go, “I’m gonna have two weeks off...do you have a lot of work?” He asked. It took you a moment to think about what you had to do, some things could wait and really only one required you to finish immediately. “I just have to finish one job then I think I can take some time off.” You stretched and looked at him with curiosity. “What did you want to do?” He pushed some of your hair behind your ear, “can we go on vacation?” “Where did you want to go?” You spoke as you tied your hair up. “Someplace warm?” You asked. He nodded, “an island!” It seemed like a solid idea. You thought it over, Jackson in his usual fashion grew impatient. He tapped his feet and poked out his lip, “we can have a private beach house…” He edged closer. “That sounds...isn’t that a little extravagant?” You often wondered when you would be able to accept Jackson’s penchant for spending on you. There was something that always made you cringe. “I don’t want you to spend too much-” He frowned and you snapped your mouth closed, “you deserve…” He began. You sighed, “nice things.” He accepted you finishing his sentence quietly before he went back to trying to convince you. “It’ll be private...no cameras...just you and me.” He had basically backed you against the machine. He leaned forward and set his hands on it, caging you in. You couldn’t look away. “We live together but I always miss you,” he kissed you and it was mostly soft. “I’m gone a lot and I feel horrible about it,” he kissed you again nibbling on your bottom lip. “Do you miss me when I’m not here?” “Like crazy.” You whispered. His eyes were on yours, pupils wide. His breathing picked up as you snaked your arms around his neck. “So let me take you to the beach, let’s spend a week....please.” His kiss was less soft more insistent. He pushed until your back was pressed to the machine, the hum seemed to burn through your blood. You kissed him back, hands gripping the hair on the nap of his neck. The time apart always made the time together feel like a single point in the universe. There wasn’t a whole apartment, a whole city, there was just you and Jackson. Starved for each other, hungry to touch and feel. He was so good at making you melt, so good at making you desperate for him. You tasted him and whimpered. The beach was suddenly a fantastic idea, more time alone for more of this. He ground against you and his moan made your knees weak. “Ok,” you managed to say against his lips. He pulled away and beamed at you. The unmistakable look of getting his way. “So we’ll go the day after tomorrow...I actually may have set it up already.” “Jackson.”

You had never been swept away before. In past relationships you had lacked the time and your partners seemed to lack the motivation. It hadn’t bothered you truly because how can you miss something you didn’t have to begin with? You thought about it as you packed and he buzzed around the room with excitement. “Don’t forget bathing suites!” He warned, “and sunscreen!” “I have both.” You answered slowly, “and something nice for dinner...right?” When you looked up he was zipping his bag up. “Yes, and then...not much else…” He raised his eyebrows quickly suggestively and you giggled. He stopped to touch his hand to your leg, “I love you in anything.”   “If it was up to you, I’d just walk around naked all the time.” You said slowly. He considered this then said, “only if you want.” Then he was moving again, his energy nervous all throughout the room. “Are you almost done?” He asked. “The car will be here soon.” You just needed to decide on your one nice outfit. It had been a while since you had really gone out. He had seen you in just about everything you owned...except.... At the back of your closet you had hung a tropical print skirt and top set. It was out of your comfort zone but the print would really work. “Hurry hurry baby.” He chided. You had just enough time to grab it from the closet and stuff it into your bag. He took your hand and led you. The smile on his face relaxed yet you could feel the excitement bubbling out of him. He kissed you in the elevator before the doors opened, then led you to the long black car idling at the apartment building’s entrance. He opened the door for you and waited till you were settled before he put the bags in the trunk and got in next to you. Then his hand was back in yours like it belonged there. “Do you think you’ll get recognized at the airport?” You tried your best not to sound nervous but the thought of screaming fans made your stomach heavy. “I don’t think so, we’ll be in then out.” He brought your linked hands up for a kiss. “Don’t be nervous, it’ll be fine.” You settled into the seat and tried your best not to worry. The media in a way wasn’t very interested in you and Jackson’s story anymore. When they did happen to catch photos of you two together it wasn’t big news but most of the comments were still pretty awful. It was better for your mental health to not read them but every so often you saw yourself online and couldn’t stop yourself from looking. The general take was that you were literally a weight dragging him down. It never seemed like a good idea to comment back, better to just read it all in silence, and really it wasn’t all bad. There was a spattering of people who liked you. Who said nice things and said they were cheering on the relationship. People who pointed out that Jackson was happier with you in his life. You weren’t sure if you would give yourself that much credit but you hoped that he felt how you did. He leaned over, “what are you thinking about so hard?” He planted a kiss on your cheek startling you out of your own head. He had a way of knowing when you were thinking yourself down a rabbit hole. He redirected you gently and patiently. His hand squeezed yours again.   “Nothing, just the work I left...hopefully I did enough.” You said. He knew it wasn’t that, but he didn’t push.. He kissed you on the cheek again, “don’t worry about it, just try your best to relax.”  He whispered. It took you a moment of second guessing, but there was no real use in fighting with Jackson. Especially since you actually did need a relaxing vacation. There would be no worries on the beach, that’s all you had to tell yourself over and over and over again.  

There weren’t any cameras, no reporters, no mobs of fans. He had his mask pulled up and dark sunglasses on. You were wearing one of his caps and your own mask pulled up. The two of you looked like any couple on their way to a romantic trip. He only let go of you to pass through security. Once his hand was out of yours there were new worries. An airplane. The last time you had flown you were forced between a grumpy office worker and a woman who seemed to have bathed in perfume. You remember distinctly how the office worker had complained about her perfume and how she called him lonely and sad. It had been for the most part very unpleasant. Suddenly all you could think about were all your worse flights.  You fumbled through security, including the awkward second search. Taking his hand on the other side calmed you down a little bit. “You’re making a mountain again.” He said into your ear. “I can’t remember ever having a good flight,” you squeezed his hand and almost missed a step. “Every flight that lands safely is a good flight baby.” He chimed happily and just like that you relaxed a bit. He was right of course. Bad seatmates didn’t make a bad flight. Small things didn’t have to be big. Once again you tried to calm yourself, to convince yourself that you were on vacation. You were being swept away and it would be great if all your extra thoughts could be swept away too.

“This is the house?” After a flight you slept through, and an ok trip through the airport that involved a car rental associate who was star struck, here the two of you were. The house was directly on the beach. From the outside it didn’t look like much which made you feel a bit better. If he had rented a beach mansion or something along those lines you would have worried the whole trip about how much all of it had cost and...and if you were really worth all the trouble. But this,...this was so quaint and so cozy. “This is it.” He pulled into the driveway and then put the car into park. You got out admiring the house’s slightly cracked white paint, the green ivy underneath the two small windows on either side of the weathered wooden door. The waves sounded incredibly close and you guessed the beach was literally right in your backyard. Jackson was behind you with your bags. “Here,” when you turned he was holding the key towards you all smiles, “open her up.” He instructed. The key got stuck for a moment in the lock. You panicked per usual but it gave when you pushed your shoulder against the heavy wood. “Be careful,” he clucked his tongue at you but you ignored him. You were stuck looking at the inside. Everything was so bright. You sucked in a breath because of all the light. There were huge skylights all throughout. The entryway was neat, a small blue weathered table held a bowl where Jackson dropped the car keys. He pressed his hand to the small of your back and your feet automatically started to shuffle step forward. The entryway opened into a small kitchen with white tile and teal cabinets. The appliances didn’t look new aged or terrifying like Jackson’s. The big white well loved looking stove was comforting. Through the kitchen There was an open airy dinning room and living room. The living room ended in two gigantic glass doors that opened onto a hedge enclosed patio. The bricks were weathered but still a good red. There was a round picnic table with a few shelves, a rack with two surfboards, and what looked like a hot tub. He wrapped his arms around your waist and kissed your cheek, “let’s look at the bedroom.” It was through a doorway off the kitchen, past a half bathroom. The bedroom suite seemed to be all windows. There were three huge windows with breezy white curtains. The bed was gigantic four poster deal, piled high with pillows at the head. The comforter was white like everything else. “There’s one of those clawfoot tubs,” He led you a little further in, towards the doorway of the bathroom. The tub was huge. There was a shower head on the wall above it. Another two windows, more light. “This place is beautiful.” You finally got out. He squeezed your hand, “I know you like simple things and I thought this place would be nice. The beach is right down a back path and-” You tipped your chin up lips pursed asking for him to dip and kiss you. “Thank you so much for bringing me,” you spoke against his lips. He wrapped his arms around your waist. “You’re welcome.” His smile was triumphant. He only let you go to help unpack but beamed the entire time like a happy child. You knew this look, his eyes were centered on yours. He licked his lips before he kissed you. “I picked this house because it’s cozy and…” He trailed off to kiss you again. “And?” “And you never wanna have fun in my bathtub so I made sure that this house had one that was so big you couldn’t argue with me about soaking together.”  He explained. “Jackson.” He beamed again his face back to innocence, “don’t you want to soak with me?” He asked. “You don’t just want to soak,” you pointed out. He shrugged, “humor me.”  In truth he had begged to soak with you plenty of times but the tub in his apartment made you nervous. You had this vision of the two of you settling in and getting stuck or getting in and overflowing the tub in an embarrassing splash. Well maybe it wouldn’t be embarrassing to him but in your mind it was motifying.  You bit your bottom lip and considered the big claw foot tub in the house again. “I guess there’s no harm in a nice soak.” You said softly.  He could barely contain his excitement, he moved deliberately trailing his hands down your waist then squeezing. He searched your face before he broke out into a grin that made you laugh.   “Jackson,” it was hard not to laugh at him. “Jackson right now? You don’t want to eat first?” He cocked his head, “I do, but let’s do that later, my back hurts from the flight.” You made a ‘sure’ face but didn’t argue. It was better to humor him, he gave your bottom another not so gentle squeeze before kissing the top of your head. “So a nice bath, then I’ll make you food,...” he trailed off and took your hand.

The fragrance from the bubble bath he found was making your head feel dreamy and relaxed. His back was against one side of the tub and yours was on the other. He insisted on massaging your feet and there really wasn’t any huge point to arguing. He rubbed away while you sighed slowly to yourself. “You have the cutest little feet.” He murmured. “They’re so gross.” Your response was automatic, years of having being told they were flawed in some way meant that you were use to parroting back the words when you were complimented. “They’re perfect on you.” He dug deep into the sole of your foot and you couldn’t help but groan. “Always say nice things about yourself.” He murmured. “Yeah I know.” You sunk lower into the water and he took the invitation to work his hands up your leg. It was hard for you to say nice things about yourself all the time. You were use to your self deprecating jokes. But he was quick to redirect them, he always told you to make it nice instead. His hands were steady on your body focusing your mind back into the moment.  It was never gonna be just a soak, but you didn’t do anything to stop him. He felt the back of your knee and a shiver ran up your body. His eyes were focused on your skin, “you’ll let me do this at home now right?” He pulled himself a little closer so his hands could go further up, “a nice hot bath, foot massages.” “You’re very good at them,” your voice was barely above a whisper. His eyes seemed to darken. He leaned farther forward, upsetting the water and bubbles so he could kiss your forehead. Under the water his hand had made it all the way up which meant his fingers were in a prime position to rub you where you were most sensitive. He kept the pressure light, teasing you. A whine broke past your lips. He ducked his head and kissed you. “I want you to relax,” he said softly against your lips, he dipped his fingers inside of you. It was so hard not to squirm, he pulled them back and forth slowly before he stopped. You gripped the sides of the the tub and tried to urge him to move. His eyes were mischievous. “Jackson,” You tried to roll your hips to get him to do anything but tease you. He cocked his head, “say something nice about yourself.” The command confused you. Your brow furrowed and for a moment you were confused, “what?” He pulled his hand completely away and touched your face instead. “I read that it’s nice to hear compliments from others but reinforcing it with words you say to yourself is even better.” His voice was earnest his hand dipped into the water again and found your breast. “Something nice…” He played with your nipple and you whimpered. Your mind was reaching for something, any sort of compliment that would make sense. “I like my thighs.”   He beamed, triumphant, then pinched your nipple lightly, “what else baby? You’re so beautiful there’s a million things to compliment.” You were so use to his praise that it was hard to give yourself the same attention. He switched to your other nipple and kissed your forehead again. “One more.” He encouraged. You swallowed, his hands sending pleasure and want all throughout your body. You willed your brain and your mouth to talk, to say something so he would give you what you needed. “I have nice skin...the cream you gave me makes it so soft.” You admitted. He liked that, he kissed you harder. He had both hands involved now, tickling the sides of your tummy. The giggle that escaped your mouth made his smile even wider. “The most perfect skin.” He spent the rest of the bath praising you. Cooing all his favorite compliments while he played with your body. It didn’t take long before your hands gripped the side of the tub and you called his name. Your body locked and then the pleasure ripped through your limbs in what felt like a blaze. Dimly you knew you had splashed water and maybe that would have embarrassed you, but there were more important things. Like the way you still shook while he kissed you everywhere he could reach. If you felt dreamy before your mind was downright foggy now. “You liked that baby?” He asked, finally pulling away to look at you. Your bones felt like jelly, thank god the tub wasn’t too deep. There was no doubt in your mind you would have melted further into the water. It took you what felt like hours to barely nod your head and indicate that yes you had indeed liked it. “It’s so cute when you say my name like that.” he went back to sitting across the tub from you, a smug smile on his face. You didn’t know what face you were making but hopefully it was satisfied. “Let’s just spend the rest of the time here.” You finally got out. He didn’t argue with you, just rested his head on the rim of the tub, “as long as you’re happy that’s all I care about.” You sat up a little, “I’m the happiest I’ve been in forever.” “Perfect.” He spoke softly and maybe it was more to himself than you but he was right. The feeling was perfect.        

[bostongirl13]

Mentally tired

A/N: The story is based on my personal experiences from a few days ago. Even though I didn't have a person like Chris in my fanfiction, I still have a lovely friend who helped me. Please do not let anyone ever bring you to this state, because no matter what others say or do, YOU are the most important, YOUR mental and physical health is the most important and it is not subject to discussion. So remember that if something disturbs your well-being, cut yourself off from it if possible. Health is very important and nothing can replace it.

Summary: You always considered yourself a mentally strong person, but suddenly someone managed to break you in a way you didn't think you could. For the first time in your life you felt so many things at once and you were powerless, there was nothing you could do. Fortunately, there was someone in your life who, although only hugged you, made you feel that you had a place in this world.

Words: 1.8k

Warnings: AGE GAP, angst, anxiety, depression state, fluff and happy end, mistakes

 Masterlist

There's a kind of tired that needs a good night's sleep, and another that needs so much more. It’s like a certain level of tiredness that equates to insanity. You always considered yourself a mentally strong person. Hardly anything upset you, made you cry from a feeling of helplessness or simply mental exhaustion. However, on that one day, in which very little happened, your strong psyche was broken. For the first time in your life, you felt that you were powerless and mentally exhausted. 

You finished work late and tired as usual. All day on high brats, in a constant run and only half an hour to eat breakfast. A job that required so much of you was not the height of your dreams, but the fact that you needed money did not give you much choice. You had to accept what you had.

The air was sweet, the weather was fine even if there were clouds in the sky and you could feel the wind on your skin. You got in your car and turned on the radio. You should be on your way home, but suddenly someone flips a button in your head. You burst into desperate crying without knowing where you had so many accumulated emotions that led you to such a state. Tears ran down your cheeks, your hands clenched on the steering wheel until the knuckles on your palms turned white. Your lungs were running out of air, and your open mouth let out a silent scream that you wanted someone to hear, come and take what you felt.

You took your phone out of your purse and, with shaking hands, eyes still blurry with tears, you wrote a short message to the only person who knew he would be able to help you, or at least you hoped so.

"I can call?"

After a while, you received an answer: "Of course, Princess"

You pressed the button and after a few chimps, you heard Chris's voice.

"What's up? Everything's okay?"

You were silent for a moment and tried to control yourself, but it didn't help you, because the moment you opened your mouth to say something, another wave of tears flooded your mouth.

"I can't anymore, I don't want to work here. It's the first time I'm so mentally tired ... I ... I ..." you didn't even know if your gibberish and cry made Chris understand anything. “I…I'm so tired"

"Hey, take it easy. What's wrong, Y / N?" Chris immediately started to panic, he wanted to be next to you and beat everyone who made you cry so hard.

"Work. I can't work here anymore. Still, someone wants something, they move me from place to place, they treat me like a parasite, and the worst thing is that because of the number of fucked up rules, I have a headache" you cried all the time, unable to calm down "I eat breakfast on the run or not at all. Everybody expects me to do my 100% as if I've been working there for years. Nobody takes into account that I'm learning everything and I'm new here” you were crying on the phone.

"I know it probably won't work, but try to calm down. And tell me where you are, I'll come to get you."

"I'm trying, but I can't" you sniffed trying to breathe evenly and stop crying "You don't have to. I'm in the car and ...."

"Then take a few deep breaths and come to my place. I live closer and I won't let you be alone today. Not like that." he says firmly. You knew that a discussion with him would be useless because he was able to come to you, pack you and bring you to his home.

"Ok"

"Ok?"

"Yes, I'll be there in 20 minutes," you said and after a few words of comfort you hung up.

Even though you tried to stop crying, you couldn't. Salty drops ran down your cheeks whole way to Chris's house.

When you got there Chris was waiting for you with Dodger. You felt embarrassed showing yourself in this state and uncomfortable, but you still needed someone by your side.

"Oh my god, Y / N" Chris immediately hugged you to him, and you burst into a hysterical cry again.

"Please calm down. Everything will be fine. I promise." You knew Chris was trying to comfort you, but it was not successful. The tears kept rolling down your cheeks and soaking his T-shirt.

After a few minutes, you went inside where Chris gave you his hoodie and told you to go take a warm bath or shower. At first, you didn't want to cause him trouble, after all, you were just friends with a big age difference, and you didn't feel comfortable roaming his house like that. He, however, didn't mind and practically pushed you into the bathroom and went to order some take-out.

As soon as you got in the shower, you sat down on the floor and let the water wash off you all day. You didn't even know how long you've been sitting in the bathroom until Chris knocked to ask if you were okay.

"Yes" you yelled to him and grabbed a bottle of shampoo and shower gel to get a quick wash, then put on Chris clothes and went to the living room.

"I didn't know what you wanted, so I ordered pizzas and Korean food. I remember how you used to say it was your favorite, but if you wanted something less spicy ..."

"You didn't have to" you interrupted him seeing how embarrassed he was because of such tinsel as eating. "Thank you", you smiled and kissed his cheek, and then you sat down next to him.

Chris froze at your gesture and it took him a few moments to get back to reality. He looked at you in his clothes, you looked cute in his oversized hoodie.

You ate practically in silence, except for the TV's on and the Dodger's soft snoring. You were no longer crying, but still feeling mentally tired. You didn't have the strength to go home or to work tomorrow. You wanted to run away somewhere where no one would find you. And so far that place has been Chris's house and the Korean food you chose.

"I don't know how you can eat something like this!" you burst out laughing as Chris drank a glass of water in one breath, "This is fucking hot"

"Not for me," you said, taking a piece of hot chicken to your mouth.

After you finished your meal, you sat down comfortably on the couch and played a movie. You covered yourself with a blanket and slumped slightly on the couch, pulling your knees up. You saw Chris want to ask you something, but he doesn't know how to do it.

"Bosses are assholes, and the amount of work you have to do in a short time is impossible to get done. Besides, there are no human conditions to eat a meal and the constant noise and crowds ..." you paused for a moment to wipe the tear flowing down your cheek "I can't explain it, just a red lamp lights up in my head and someone screams run, but I can't because I don't know where the exit is. I feel, I know I'm trapped and .. . "you started crying again.

You felt strong arms press you against the hard chest of the body to which they belong. You immediately hugged Chris and closed your eyes. And how by a magic wand you started to calm down. He stroked your hair holding his cheek against your head. When you got up and looked at Chris's blue irises, you felt very calm and safe. You didn't know what it is about him that makes your body relax when he touches you.

Chris placed his hands on your cheeks and wiped away your tears. You felt as if you were enchanted, but at the same time, they were doing what your heart and mind told you as if you still had full control over your actions. You bet your lower lip as your gaze traveled from Chris's to his lips and back to his eyes. And then you felt his lips on yours.

In that kiss was the sweetness of passion, a million loving thoughts condensed into a moment. His kiss is not at all the same as those you had before, but one steeped in a passion that ignites. It is the promise of realness, of the primal desire that lives in us all. You threw your arms around his neck and dragged him along. Chris didn't protest. He propped himself up on one elbow so as not to crush you with the weight of his body, and he rested his other hand on your cheek. In that moment of the kiss, you were in each other’s protective cocoon.

You felt his tongue gently move over your lip, subtly pleading for entry. You parted your lips, allowing him to deepen the kiss. He took his time, slowly revealing every nook and cranny of your lips and letting your tongues dance at an unhurried beat. Your hands moved you from his neck to his hair, tangling your fingers in brown curls. Chris growled and moved his hand to your thigh, throwing your leg over his hip, then carefully placed his body on yours.

The feeling that accompanied it all was incomparable to anything else. It felt like you were just getting to know the world as a little child.

When you pulled away from each other to catch your breath, you couldn't take your eyes off you. Each of you has been examining the face of the other, trying to read feelings and thoughts.

Chris touched your swollen lips with his thumb and smiled slightly at which you smiled back.

"You are so beautiful when you smile. I don't want that smile to fade from your face. Never," he whispered.

Your cheeks turned red, you could tell by the warmth you felt on your face. But even so, you found enough confidence to answer him unequivocally.

"So don't let me be sad"

After these words, Chris's lips were on yours again.

tags:   @patzammit @ivettt​ @mostannoyingbillioner @speechlessxx​ @angrybirdcr​ @ozarkthedog​​ @sweater-daddiesdumbdork​ @sweetflowerdreams​ @worksby-d 

[wrenhyperfixates]

We Make a Pretty Good Team

Pairing: Loki x reader Summary: It’s game night at the Avengers Tower, and you find the perfect partner in Loki. Warnings: ‘tis but fluff A/N: Just another self-indulgent, fluffy story. Hope you enjoy :)

Tag List: @lucywrites02​​ @frostedgiant​​ @lunarmoon8​​ @twhiddlestonsstuff​​ @lokistan​​ @lowkeyorlokificrecs​​ @gaitwae​​ @whatafuckingdumbass​​ @castiels-majestic-wings​​ @kozkaboi​​ @cozy-the-overlord​​ @birdgirl90​​ @myraiswack​​

Disclaimer: Gif not mine 

“First Saturday of the month. You know what that means,” Tony hollered to the Avengers scattered about the Tower.

“Yes!” Thor boomed. “Be prepared to lose.”

“Funny,” Clint laughed with a roll of his eyes. “I was just about to say the same thing to you.”

“What is happening?” you asked, somewhat bewildered, as the heroes came into the room. “What’s significant about Saturday?”

“Oh my gosh, that’s right. You just missed the last one. Every first Saturday of the month we have a game night,” Nat explained.

You’d been part of the team for just under a month, having officially joined on a Sunday. So, it was true that you’d yet to experience their apparently traditional game night. It sounded like a great deal of fun, though, especially because the Avengers had become your second family in the short time you’d known them. Well, you’d actually known Nat and Clint for years, since you all worked for SHIELD. In fact, they were a huge part of the reason you were an Avenger now. A few months ago there was a particularly dangerous crime ring, and they’d specifically requested you as backup. You’d clicked with everyone immediately and, numerous transfer papers later, here you were.

“Sounds exciting!” you told them. “What are we playing first?”

“Well actually,” Bruce said kind of sheepishly, “it’s not that I want you to sit out, but they’re all team games, and we don’t have an even number of people.”

“So we have a team of three,” Nat said, as if it were obvious.

“No way. That’s unfair,” Tony argued.

You bit your lip, feeling like maybe you were intruding on something you shouldn’t be a part of. It was their thing, after all, and perhaps there was simply no room for a newcomer. As they continued to bicker about whether one larger team mattered or not, you considered just slipping away. That’s when you noticed that there was someone missing.

“What about Loki?” you said. “He would make the numbers even.”

Much to your surprise, everyone burst out laughing. You nervously ran your sweaty palms on the legs of your pants and let out a small laugh, though you weren’t quite sure at what. Once their cackling died down, you dared to ask what was so funny.

“My brother never attends these games nights,” Thor informed you. “He isn’t one for group activities, as I’m sure you’ve noticed.”

“Well, have you ever invited him?”

“Once or twice,” Tony said. “Listen, if you want to try to make a social butterfly out of Reindeer Games, be my guest. In the meantime, we’ll work out a feasible way for us all to play.”

You rolled your eyes and scoffed a little, standing up to go find Loki. It was honestly ridiculous that they still treated him the way they did. Sure, he likes to be alone sometimes, but that doesn’t mean he likes being lonely. Not that he’d ever actually admitted to you that he was, but you knew. It was blatantly obvious in the way he sent longing glances toward the rest of the team when you gathered together. You always made sure to ask him over, an invitation he usually accepted. Everyone else had laughed the first time you’d done that, too. They’d only ever asked him a few times, and it was right when he was new and still so lost, so alone, so afraid. Why they took that to just be his permanent disposition, you didn’t know. Regardless of how insensitive they were to his situation, your inclusivity had brought Loki out of his shell a bit, and a friendship had blossomed between you.

A short walk later, you reached his door. You stretched out a hand, but hesitated to knock. Doubt gnawed at the back of your mind. Maybe he truly was not a fan of board games, and then you’d be interrupting his night. After all, he must have a tradition of his own if this happens every first Saturday. Still, you knew that was usually not the case, and steeled yourself against the uncertainty.

“Hello, my little mortal,” he greeted you, opening the door. “Is everything alright?”

“No.”

“What is it? Are you ill? Hurt?” he questioned, jumping into action and shepherding you to his couch.

“No, nothing like that,” you laughed, though you were touched by his concern. “It’s just that it’s game night, and we don’t have an even number of people.”

“Oh? And I suppose that you are asking me to join,” he mused as you nodded. “I am not usually invited, and I am notorious spoiled sport, just ask Thor.”

“Well, people say a lot of things about you, and they’re usually not true.” He shrugged his shoulders. “You don’t have to play if you really don’t want to, but will you? Please. For me?”

“For you, my little mortal, anything. After all, how can I resist those puppy dog eyes?”

You giggled and led the way out of his room, ignoring the thumping of your heart when his hand accidentally brushed yours. Nat and Tony were still bickering about the teams when you arrived, but were quickly stunned into silence when they saw Loki.

“Brother! Good to see you’ve decided to join,” Thor greeted, breaking the somewhat awkward silence. “Shall we begin then?”

First up was Cranium, and you could tell that everyone else was divided into their usual teams: Tony and Bruce, Clint and Nat, Thor and Steve. You rubbed your hands in excitement, ready for some friendly competition.

“Yes!” you shouted a while later, after you and Loki answered the final question right. “We win!”

Everyone else’s jaw hung open, shocked by how serious of a competitor you were. Not to say you were mean-spirited or gloated or anything, but it was obvious you took game night very seriously. Loki was a little surprised too, but he relished in the infectious energy of your feisty spirit. Not to mention he absolutely loved to be on the winning team.

“Congratulations, guys,” Steve said. “Don’t expect to get as lucky in the next game, though.”

The next game, apparently, was charades, which you and Loki absolutely dominated again. The two of you worked as a well-oiled machine, guessing the simple ones like sewing and the more obscure ones like whale watching with ease. Loki was also surprisingly knowledgeable about Midgardian movies and literature. The two of you high fived, having just edged out the competition.

“Wow, good job guys,” Nat congratulated. “Tony and Bruce usually win that one.”

“Way to rub it in,” Tony groaned, flopping back on the couch.

You could tell a part of him wanted to accuse Loki of cheating but, having no real evidence and not wanting to start a fight, restrained himself. Instead, he contented himself with just mumbling how much of an outrage it was. You, however, were on cloud nine.

As the next game was set up, Loki pulled you onto his lap, instilled with confidence after his latest wins. Of course, if anyone were to ask, he would just say he was saving room on the couch. It would have, though, been a lie.

“Ready for a clean sweep, my little mortal?” he whispered, his breath surprising cold on your ear.

“Bring it on!” you whispered back with a wink.

The last game of the night was Pictionary, and by now everyone knew you and Loki were the team to beat. Unfortunately for them, you got this win, too. The Avengers let out a collective sigh as you shouted a victorious whoop and hugged Loki.

“Good game everyone,” you said, starting to help clean up.

“What are you doing, my little mortal?” Loki questioned, half joking. “Do you not know the losers have to clean up?”

“Not sure that’s actually a rule, Rock of Ages,” Tony grumbled.

“Fine, I’ll help,” he replied, placing a singular piece back in the box. “There. Now it is time for our victory lap.”

Then he scooped you up bridal style using his superhuman strength and began running you around the Tower in his arms, both laughing the whole time. He finally brought you to a stop on the balcony of his room.

“You’re ridiculous, you know that right?” you said, still chuckling.

“Perhaps. But we deserved that after an excellent showing.”

“I guess so. As much as it pains me to admit it, we should probably go easy on them next time. We’ll just win one a night, ok?”

“That’s my little mortal,” he happily sighed, wrapping his arms around you. “Always looking out for others. Always looking out for me. Thank you for inviting me along tonight.”

“No problem. It was a lot of fun. We make a pretty good team.”

“Indeed.”

A comfortable silence settled between you, and you rested against Loki, whose arms were still wrapped around you. He felt more relaxed and happy than he had in a while. He knew he’d ask you out someday, but right now he was still too shy, this friendship still too new. One day he would, though, and he couldn’t wait to get there and to every day after.