#top rated infant car seat

[kingsuckjin]

Ungodly Beast 2

⸸ Pairing: Devil! Jungkook x reader, Priest! Namjoon x reader

⸸ Rated: M (18+)

⸸ Genre: smut, horror, fluff?, angst?

⸸ Synopsis: You’d rather go to hell yourself than let the devil take your baby, even if he helped create him… even if your little boy is beginning to sprout horns.

⸸ Warnings: (may contain spoilers) death, kidnapping, kind of depression and some heavy feels, satanic symbolism, voyeurism, blowjob, fingering, unprotected sex (please wrap your ding dong before playing ping pong), more sinful shit, male masturbation, dom-ish reader, strangulation (like also not in a sexy way), dom! Jungkook, spit kink, the most dirty talk you've ever seen, fisting, fingering, dick size kink, daddy kink, degradation, impreg kink, pain kink, devil kook still looks wild, spanking, branding, choking, hair pulling, biting and scratching, blood play/blood eating, tattoo kink, really rough sex, a very jealous Jungkook, more death/murder, a very brief mention of drugs, fluffy sex, gore, a fight scene, it's just graphic and awful.

⸸ Words: 15k

⸸ Note: I’d link the first part in this fic here, but tumblr has been doing this cute little thing where if you insert a link in something then the fic won’t show up in the tags. So I very sincerely apologize for the inconvenience, but you’ll have to go through my masterlist to find part 1. Also, an anon told me that this fic goes really well with the album Too Weird to Live too Rare to die by panic at the disco, specifically the song Far too young to die, so if you're looking for something to listen too while reading this, then that would be perfect.

"What have you done?"

Those were your mother's first words after telling her you were pregnant. You had no idea how she knew, perhaps it was the worried, troubled, tired look on your face that that told her. Maybe she just sensed it, sensed the seed of half evil already taken root and growing inside of you.

You stayed silent, confirming an unspoken conclusion between you. She clutched at the rosary around her neck as her shocked, open mouth quivered and glossy tears pooled in her eyes.

"You didn't…" She whispered, "please tell me you didn't." 

Out of shame, you still didn't speak.

"How did you know?" You finally decided to ask.

"I've dealt with him before, I know the way his terrible presence feels, and now I feel it with you. I almost can't stand it." Her words both stung and made you have an unsettling feeling that crawled up your spine. Was it simply the baby she had felt? Had he marked you somehow and now it was you making her feel like this? Or was he with you? Silently watching and waiting.

"What did you give for the child?" Your mother was nearly in sobs now.

"He didn't tell me at first-" you began to try to defend yourself but your mother cut you off.

"He never does. What was it?" 

"He's taking him…" you felt the prick of tears sting your eyes now too. You had to cover your mouth quite suddenly to keep a sob from escaping. It hurt to think about, to talk about. You were afraid. "...when he turns five."

She took your hands between hers and looked you in the eyes.

"We will do everything we can, I promise. We will fight."

You nodded and attempted to blink away the tears.

"Pray with me. We can pray. God will help us, I know it." 

You nodded again as she gripped your hands firmly in hers reassuringly. She let her head fall slightly and closed her eyes prompting you to do the same.

As she started with her prayer, you began to feel a ringing in your head, the sound grew and grew until it was piercing, drowning out her words. A tsunami of nausea overtook your body so powerful you jumped up from your seat at your mother's kitchen table, knocking the chair back as you ran for the bathroom in a dizzy haze.

"Ah, they should call it all day sickness instead of morning sickness." Your mom had committed, seeming to brush it off, but you knew in your heart and deep in your soul that something was very, very wrong here.

From the moment you first saw him, you were in love. His big doe eyes, his chubby little cheeks, his soft little hands, and feet. Although he had no horns or black eyes, you tried hard not to see his father in him, which was difficult sometimes.

The worst memories for you were taking him to get baptized as a newborn. He had screamed from the moment you had entered the church and nothing you could do would calm him.

The moment the blessed holy water touched his skin, you watched as it seemed to burn and blister his infant skin in just seconds. You went out to your car in the church parking lot, 

calmed him the best you could before strapping him into his car seat, and you cried.

You cried because while he seemed to be a normal little baby, your son, the baby you feed with your own body, sing to, bathe, and love, you were occasionally reminded of what he was and that you might only have him for a very short time.

He still whimpered in the back seat just as you did in the front. Guilt and sadness and fear prompted you to get out of the car and into the back seat where you unfastened him as his pout only worsted your feelings. You took his small body in your arms and held him to your chest. Your nose snuggled into his mess of fluffy dark hair.

"I love you. No ones ever going to take you away from me. I don't care what you are, you're my son more than anything." You let your tears fall onto his head.

That wasn't the scariest thing you had been through though. The worst was the nightmares.

The first was just under a month after he had been born. You had sat up in your bed covered in sweat, the house felt like an oven. Your heart was beating hard even before you had heard it coming through the baby monitor.

Singing.

It sounded high and angelic along with the happy coos of your son. As your groggy mess faded with the race of your heart you also realized it was in a language you not just couldn't understand, but had never heard anything like it before.

It took no time at all for you to practically leap from your bed, and dash from your room and down the hall to your son's room.

As you pushed his door open you saw him. You felt like your heart was beating in your throat now as you saw him with his back to you holding your son, bathed in only the moonlight that the sheer curtains of the nursery let in.

The singing had turned to a soft hum. You realized how wrong you were upon pinning his voice like an angel. You saw the horns sprouting from his wavy hair that dangled as he looked down at the baby in his arms.

You wanted to scream, you wanted to fight, you wanted to do anything to save your baby and keep him from being taken away from you. He was a newborn, it wasn't even time.

You couldn't do anything though, and you didn't know why.

Horrifyingly you found yourself yet again drawn to him, in awe at his presence.

"You can't…" you managed to choke out.

"I will." He didn't turn as he spoke to you. After he spoke, you woke up.

You couldn't sleep very long for months after that nightmare. 

There was no denying by age two and a half that he looked more like his father. There was also no denying the little bumps you found while brushing his shaggy hair that sat on the top of his head under his skin. Most mothers would be concerned, wonder if their child had gotten hurt, and bumped their head a few times. But you just sat there frozen, feeling the bumps. You knew what they were, they were his father's claim to him, they were forming horns.

"Mommy okay?" Your son noticed your strange and oddly still demeanor as the hairbrush dropped from your hands onto the bathroom tile where you sat. 

That's when it hit you the hardest. Your baby was halfway there. Halfway gone. All you had done so far was helplessly try to deny the fact that he was coming for him. He would take your little boy and drag him to hell if you didn't do something to fight this, find some way, something, someone to help you.

"Mommy?" your son had turned around and was now reaching for your cheeks to smush with his hands like you often did him. His face read of concern and question. Your heart melted at his little gesture. You took in his sweet little face again, his little two front teeth poked out just a little. You couldn't help but squish his face gently right back.

"Mommy's okay." You tried to reassure him the best you could, and it seemed to work. Lucky for you toddlers were sweetly gullible.

The moment you got free time you sent a text to your mom telling her you'd be dropping her grandson off at her house tomorrow, you didn't wait for a reply as you already knew she would jump at any chance to see her grandson whenever she could.

You then made a very important series of phone calls.

"Thank you, thank you so much for meeting with me today on such short notice father-" 

"Father Namjoon or just Namjoon is fine." He interrupted. "And don't mention it, I'm here to help. You mentioned problems with your child?"

You took a deep breath and let your face finally show the worry you felt, your bouncing foot on the floor let out your anxiety. You sat there in his office at this tiny church. Worried he would throw you out the moment you told him the truth about what was going on.

Father Namjoon sat across the big worn wooden desk from you and waited patiently for you to further explain. Behind him on the wall was a massive cross along with pictures with him and maybe members of the church pinned to the wall.

" I'm afraid I didn't tell you everything over the phone because… well, every priest I've called said I was crazy and hung up on me after I told them." You admitted and watched as his body language changed with his growing attention.

"But father Namjoon, I swear on my son's life that what I'm about to tell you is the truth. My son is no trouble, but his father is. See, I would've brought my son in today, but he gets these… headaches and nosebleeds in churches." 

You watched his reaction carefully, he curiously tilted his head.

"Go on…" he urged.

"Because his father… is… the devil."

Namjoon gave you a nod of understanding that was far too casual for the words you said.

"I have proof." You defended before he could even think to refute your claim.

"I believe you." 

"What?" You asked thinking maybe you were only hearing what you wanted to.

"Listen," he leaned forward so that his arms rested on his desk. "He's real. I know he's real. The nervousness in your voice and you say you have proof… you seem perfectly sane to me. When can I meet with your son? Would your home be alright?"

"What are you doing right now? He's with my mother right now."

"Let's go." He said with sureness and no thinking time behind it.

He followed your car to your mother's home. You watched as he got out of his car and just stood there in the driveway, staring at the home.

"Something wrong father?" You asked as he brought forth the cross around his neck and clutched it tightly.

"I can feel him."

"My son? My mom says the same thing about him. We just assume he carries the same feeling as-"

"Not your son, the devil. He's here." 

Your heart began to race at the thought of encountering him again. Maybe you had gotten in over your head by asking a priest to see him, but you had to do something.

"Your cross." You stopped father Namjoon as he started to walk towards the door. "I'm sorry but you can't have it near him. My mother had to take down all of hers when he was born." 

His eyes seemed to shift around nervously before finally taking off his cross and putting it in his car.

"No worries." He gave you a reassuring smile. 

You expected more upon entering the house, not just for your son to casually be sitting there watching tv.

You and your mother had exchanged silent, nervous glances upon her letting you in and seeing the priest.

"Hey buddy, someone wants to talk to you." You knelt down and told your son but he seemed to ignore you.

Your mom turned off the tv, but it didn't seem to affect him.

"Touch his head." You whispered to Namjoon.

He stepped forward and crouched on the floor.

"Hey, little guy! What kind of show were you watching?" He placed his hand on your son's head to pat it but quickly retracted it.

"Don't touch me." your son spoke clearly and firmly. His speech was nothing like his normal, broken toddler way of talking.

You looked at Namjoon who still looked shocked by something, it had to be the growing horns.

"Daddy said don't touch me." Your son spoke again perfectly as if he were a few years older.

Daddy said

"Oh my go-" you couldn't help but let out at his words. Had his father been around this whole time? Just watching him… and you?

"I won't touch you, I promise. Could you turn around for me?"

Your son did as he was asked and faced the priest, looking up at him with wide, almost terrified eyes.

“Can I show him your back?” you asked knowing he would let you touch him before he would a priest. Your son nodded but seemed confused. 

You lifted the side of his shirt and showed Namjoon the mark spread along the ribs. The upside-down thick, black cross.

“Quite a birthmark you have there.” Namjoon joked with the boy.

“His father has the same one."

Namjoon stood to his feet which prompted you to do the same.

"Can we talk?" His eyes flickered towards the front door.

"Yeah of course." 

"Possibly off the property?" He added and you gave him a nod.

“I'll be back” you assured your mother as you left with the priest.

He led you to his car before asking if you wanted to get a coffee and told you he needed it after what he had just seen and felt. You understood and agreed.

He continued to apologize on the short drive there, but again you understood his need to process this.

It wasn't until after you both had gotten your drinks and sat down in a quiet corner of the shop that he began to talk openly.

“I’m still not sure what to think of all this, but I know you're not lying. He looks like him. My…” he let out a sigh as he played with a pink packet of sugar. “My grandmother had a run-in with him once, never said why or how, but she described him and the way his presence felt. I just don’t think it's your child making me feel that way. I really need to ask what happened between you and...his...father.”

“I-um..I…” you too took a deep breath and decided to explain everything as detailed as you could from summoning him, to only having a few years left with your son. You felt ashamed as you explained to this priest how you had slept with the devil.

Namjoon didn't seem to judge you though, as a matter of fact, he looked sympathetic. He seemed so sweet, kind, and understanding.

“I’m not sure what I can do here,” he told you and reached across the table to place his hand on yours “but I promise to do the best I can. I will do what I can to help protect your family and son.”

You felt the honesty and sincerity in his words, it felt so comforting to you.

“It’s going to be hard, I can just tell he doesn't want me there. I don't know if it’s because I’m a man or because I’m a priest. Let me ask you a rather personal question, have you dated at all since your son was born?”

“No.” you shook your head “I don’t want anyone getting attached to my son because I just don't know what's going to happen. Also, I’m afraid…he might do something. I just… I don't want to put anyone else into this that doesn't need to be.” that part hurt you too, you just felt so lonely on top of it all. “I've had no one to turn to with all of this except my mother.”

“Well, you have me now, okay? You don't have to feel alone anymore. We can solve this together.”

Namjoon had come up with a plan to meet with your son every other day, and at the end of the week, he would meet with only you and talk over the progress, if he had made any at all.

Just a few months in, there was a difference. It seemed his method of slowly introducing god and holy objects such as crosses were beginning to work, he no longer got headaches and nosebleeds around them, and his horns while still little bumps under his skin, they had stopped growing. That also happened to be the month your mother got very very sick. No matter how many times Namjoon came and prayed over her, she still continued to just slip away until she was gone.

And now you had no one but Namjoon.

The day after she passed away was the hardest. Your son was still too small to fully grasp the concept of death, but he still cried about his grandmother never getting to play with him again.

You had waited until you had put him to bed and he had fallen asleep to pour yourself a glass of wine and just cry.

Nothing could distract you from the pain, from the heavy misery, not even the pouring rain and house shaking thunder.

You had turned off all of the lights, the only thing that would occasionally light the room was the lightning.

You felt so alone, more alone than you've felt in your life. You tried hard to sense him, but he just didn't seem there. The one time you felt so desperate and alone, his presence didn't loom over you. 

“I hate you,” you spoke out loud. “If you can hear me I hate you. I hate that you've done this to me, I hate that you took her from me and your son. Are you really watching over your son or do you just love to see me suffer? Do you love to see me alone? Huh?” anger coursed through you as you talked to the walls “Answer me!” you yelled a little too loudly and worried that you would wake your son up so you decided to be quiet.

The desperation and loneliness felt like it was suffocating you, you had to do something.

You felt pathetic calling him up this late, but once you heard his voice you already felt better.

“Hey, how are you hanging in there?” 

“Not good Namjoon.” you sniffled “I-I just feel so alone, so in over my head. All the things my mom has done for me I just…” you did your best to hold back tears.

“Do you want me there? Is it alright if I come over so you don't have to feel alone?”

“Please?” Your plea was squeaky and weak.

“I’ll leave right now okay? It's just important to remember that you're not alone. God is with you.”

“Thank you. I don't know what I would have done this past few months without you.”

“Please, don't mention it.”

You don't know how it got here. You had only had a half a glass of wine in total, and a two-hour deep conversation and now you had pulled him into your room and you were ripping off each other’s clothes as if they were tainted.

“Fuck me” you tossed your shirt to the floor and pressed your lips back to his with ferocity. He sharply exhaled through his nose at how turned on he was by your demand, although you could feel it through his underwear. 

“You sure?” he mumbled into your lips. You let out a hum into his before sinking to your knees.

“Fuck.” he muttered, mesmerized as you pulled his underwear, letting it fall at his feet and letting his cock loose.

You let little time pass between the moment you saw his cock and putting it into your mouth. You were hungry for touch, for affection, for sex, for companionship, and you were sure to show that in the form of his dick in your throat. It was as if somehow you hoped it could fill that strange void that had existed in you for far too long.

He thrust in tandem with your head bobbing while letting out groans and sharp breaths of pleasure that just told you that it had been a while for him too. 

Thunder rolled in your dark room as you suppressed a gag and let your spit dribble down your chin. You were dripping with need at just the thought of sex.

As a brief flash of lightning lit the room, you swore you saw him in the chair in the corner of the room, legs crossed, watching you.

Could it have just been your imagination playing tricks on you? Could you have been just thinking about him? Was it what you wanted to see?

You closed your eyes as you took Namjoon deeper into your throat, letting the tip of your nose connect with his thin patch of pubes.

His hands tangled in the back of your hair.

"Can- can we have sex? Please? This feels too good to take this anymore." 

You took him from your mouth and got into the bed on all fours. He took a moment to take your body and pose in for a moment, but once his brain seemed to function again he got behind you on the bed.

His fingers ran down the skin of your back almost making you shiver.

He yanked your underwear down around your thighs and ran his fingers along your soaking folds.

"No teasing, fuck me."

You heard an almost inaudible moan behind you before feeling his tip at your entrance.

The feeling of him slowly sinking into you, filling you, felt so nice after so long.

"Be rough with me."

"O-okay." He stammered and grabbed the back of your hair to pull on as he began slamming into you.

The skin of his thighs slapped at the meat of your ass over and over, but it somehow just wasn't enough.

"Harder, call me names." 

"I won't- I can't call you names." He panted his refusal.

Thank god he was behind you so he couldn't see you rolling your eyes.

"Stop stop, stop." 

His hips quit moving at once.

"Lay on your back." You had had enough and wanted to take this into your own hands.

One he pulled out and played down you straddled his hips, reaching down to guide his cock into your entrance before sinking down on it.

The moment you slowly moved your hips with him buried inside of you he began to moan. You picked up his hands and placed them on your breasts.

"What do you think, father?" Your voice dripped with seduction as you clenched around him.

"You're so- oh god- so beautiful." 

"Wrong answer." You stilled your hips making him scramble for the right words.

"Your pussy is so wet… just for me." 

"All for you." You began to move your hips again with the answer that satisfied you. Possibly to make sure they didn't stop again his hands drifted down to your hips to move them faster on his own. You couldn't help the loud moan that slipped out of your mouth at him taking control just a little.

"You take my dick so well." 

"Fuck fuck." You chanted, moving your hips faster, feeling so close to losing it. You couldn't lie, the thought of him being a priest was really about to get you off right now.

"Such a bad girl." He murmured. Maybe he felt the same.

"Does it feel good being in the same cunt as the devil has been?" You teased.

You swore you heard a very short, unamused chuckle from somewhere in the room. 

"Fuck yes, fuck I'm so close." He aggressively moved your hips now, his fingers digging into your flesh and finally making you cum.

"Up up" 

You got off of him fast and watched ad his hand went around his cock to give it a few short jerks. His thick cum spurted from the tip. Coating his hand and shaft.

"I'll get you something to clean that up with." You climbed off of him as he quickly nodded.

"Darliiiiing" 

You felt a hand on your thigh that woke you from your sleep.

"Wake up, I need you." Your face contorted in confusion at Namjoon's words.

"Too tired." You muttered into your pillow.

"But I'm so hard for you." His deep voice whispered in your ear sending tingles through your body.

"All I can think about is your wet little cunt of yours. I'll do whatever you want me to darling." His hand ghosted up your back until it came around and reached your neck where he left it

"Mmm." You hummed in satisfaction as you rotted your ass into his once again hard dick.

"You like that? Hm?" His voice was so thick and rough with sleep. "What if I squeezed just a little?" His fingers tightened slightly around your throat.

You were more than ready now for round two, it seemed he had found some courage between when you fucked earlier and now.

"Who does your pussy belong to, darling?" 

"You." You whispered mixed with a moan. You needed him back inside of you so badly that you ached for it.

"You lying whore." His grip on your throat tightened, so much that it became almost impossible to breathe.

You struggled against his grip and tried to pry his hand from your throat.

"Your body and cunt belongs to the devil. Evil courses through your blood." You could hear the hate in his voice through his gritted teeth.

You tried to kick at him, hit him, but you could feel the tightness in your face and brain from lack of blood flow and oxygen.

"Stop, please." You attempted to choke out as your vision grew hazy.

"You belong in hell too." 

You thrashed until there was no more pressure on your throat, your hands and feet collided with nothing.

You sat up in your bed covered in sweat. You were alone and once again your room was as hot as the pits of hell themselves.

You picked up your phone from the nightstand, almost blinding yourself with the light from it as you checked the time. 

Namjoon had left hours ago. He had left upon your request.

"What the fuck." You sighed as you flopped back into your bed.

As you laid there the weight of reality seemed to feel heavier and heavier on your chest, crushing.

Your mother was dead, you had fucked a priest, the devil wouldn't leave you alone, and you had very little time before your son was gone forever.

Your bedroom felt too large, too spacious for your lonely body just as all of your problems did. Would you end up sucked into it all? Eaten alive? Was there any point in fighting at all?

You swallowed down the lump in your throat but it was no use. You couldn't stop the tears that filled your eyes and leaked into your hairline as you stared up at your ceiling.

"Please" your word brought forth your sobs in the empty room "make it stop. I'll do anything but give up my son, just make it stop."

You couldn't help it, for weeks after your dream you felt weird around Namjoon. The rational part of your brain knew he wouldn't hurt you, although you still denied any little advances he made. It did fade, and once he took you out to dinner and you let him put his hand on your knee, but he was careful not to overstep boundaries.

You thought about calling him one night as you laid there sleepless in your bed. You don’t know how you had gotten so turned on but your body felt so hot with need.

You tried to just roll over and go to bed, but your sensitive clit throbbed along with your heartbeat as if begging you to touch it. Sny motion you made at all only made things worse until you gave in.

You pulled up your oversized sleep shirt and shoved a hand down your panties. You paused a moment as you realized that it wasn't just getting off you needed, but contact with someone.

You went to reach for your phone on the nightstand, but your hand didn't even meet it before you froze.

"Don't." It was a command.

Your eyes flashed to him sitting in the chair in the corner of the room, just like you thought you had seen him a month ago with Namjoon.

You quickly pulled your hand from your underwear and sat up with your mouth agape.

"Did you miss me, darling?" His horns tilted as his head did.

"Get out of my fucking house and leave me and my son alone!" You growled, clutching your shorts angrily in your fists.

"Why? So you can fuck that priest again?" He held up his index finger, slightly shaking it making a tsk-ing sound. 

"Why does it matter to you what I do?" Your voice was stone cold.

He narrowed his eyes at you and leaned forward in the chair with a smirk. You couldn't stop yourself from thinking how regal and utterly beautiful he looked. He looked far more casual this time in a black t-shirt and jeans, but nonetheless majestic and powerful.

"You must've forgotten. That's alright, I wouldn't mind reminding you. I'm not here for our son, don't worry, not just yet."

"Then let's talk about that." 

"Talk?" He gave a little smile "we can talk. Come here." 

Although you wanted to, almost needed to, you stayed in your bed.

"Then feel free to keep going… unless you want some help."

"Tell me why you're here." You demanded.

"I'm here to save you. You called me."

"I didn't." You argued.

He beckoned you over once more as he stood from the chair. You got out of bed this time and stepped closer.

"You've done nothing but try to get my attention for months. Don't argue, you know I'm right. I can hear it again, that delicate little heart of yours fluttering when you see me." He reached a hand out for you, you took it, it was just so warm in yours. You let him pull you in until your back faced his chest with his hands on your sides.

"You called me, see?" You closed your eyes as he whispered to you, your bodies swayed together in a nonexistent song. It felt as though he was pulling you deeper into a trance, and you let yourself go.

"Does that heartbeat for me? Do you live for me? Do you want me?" You felt his nose graze your neck, the hot air from his worst trailing behind it. You had dreams of this moment for years. His whispers, his touch, the way he made you feel drunk and hypnotized you, the way he made you feel whole.

"Yes." You couldn't lie, everything but the truth had melted away, you couldn't feel or speak much else. You were weak for him, weaker than you remembered.

"Then are you mine?"

"Yes." You answered once more.

"I'll talk to you my love, about whatever your heart desires. First, tell me what it is you want from me." He whispered as you felt him grip the hem of your sleep shirt at your thighs. His hands brushed your skin. You continued to sway with him, eyes closed, worried that if you opened your eyes that this would all be a dream, worried that if you looked at him you'd fall deeper.

You didn't want to say it, you didn't want to admit you wanted him right now. He had done so much to you. Your internal struggle was hard, you wanted him desperately, yet he had done so much to you and your family. Even your closed eyes couldn't hold back the tears that escaped.

"Why did you take her?" A single son escaped but you shut it down, you refused to show all of your weakness.

To your surprise, he gently shushed you.

"Darling, I didn't take her. Her soul was never mine to take. I don't decide who lives and dies, it was just her time."

You were stunned, why was he comforting you? Why did it feel so good?

"Please don't take our son, he's alI have now, he-"

"I've thought about so many things. We can talk later, no tricks, no lies. You don't need to worry. Just let them all fall away and tell me what you want."

You bit your lip as you felt his cock begin to twitch beside you.

"You already know I want you." Your voice was a soft, weak whisper.

"Yes, but do you want me to hold and comfort you? You've been struggling so much with that. Perhaps you want my cock buried so deep inside of you that it hurts. Or maybe you just want me to pump that belly full of a second baby." 

His hand slid into your panties as you let out a gasp of excitement. Every nerve in your body felt hypersensitive, so when he slid his finger over your slit you cried out for him.

"All of it. Please, I want it all." 

"What a greedy, needy little bitch. Did that boring god loving freak not satisfy you?" He teased as his finger dipped into your folds and teased at your clit.

"N-no." You stammered.

"You didn't look like you were having much fun, not until you saw me at least." He seemed so amused by it. "I'm a little mad you let him poorly use you like that" he seemed to growl making slight fear go down your spine. "Who fucks you better? Who has a bigger dick?" His finger circling your clit picked up speed with the ferocity of his words.

"You." Your breath was already short.

"Tonight, prove to me that you're mine, that you're devoted, that you'll do whatever it takes for me, And I'll show you I'm yours." 

This wasn't happening, you couldn't believe the words he had just softly said into your neck. Your disbelief was cut off by your quickly approaching orgasm. You let out a whine as your knees turned to rubber, you would've fallen had he not have been holding you tightly against him.

"That's it darling, let me have you, let go for me." Your orgasm exploded through you like a bomb and all you could do was whine.

"Such a good girl." He still held you tightly and placed light kisses on your neck and collarbone as he took his tattooed hand from the front of your panties.

You let out a small shriek when he picked you up and carefully set you on the bed. He could've broken you in half right then and there, if he wanted to.

"On all fours, ass facing me." 

You hurried into position for him, and for a while, you felt nothing until you felt the fiery sting of a slap along a cheek.

You sucked in a breath.

"What's the matter baby, can't take it for me?"

He was so wrong, you loved it.

"I'll take whatever you give me." Your words were followed by the pleasure of another slap.

"Fuck it." He muttered and suddenly you were dragged by your legs onto his lap where he positioned you over it.

"Take anything for me, huh? We'll see about that." The slaps kept coming until your ass felt raw. You arched your ass up for him as you let out a needy whine.

"You're so fucking wet, it's everywhere. Do you want me to touch you? Is that what you're whining for?" 

You let out another whine.

"Say it."

"Please touch me. I want you to touch me." 

"I'll give you what you want." You knew that tone he used, it was the tone of having something else planned.

His fingers immediately sunk into your core.

"You're wetter than I thought, I could slide whatever I wanted into you so effortlessly." 

You could hear the sounds of his coated fingers working you too.

"Whatever you want." You replied hoping it was his cock, but you knew better at this point.

"My love, I'm going to absolutely fucking ruin you."

You went to reply but suddenly felt the slight stretch and sting of more fingers entering you.

"Ahhhh." You let out but backed up further onto his hand, still wanting more.

"What a good little whore, look at you riding my hand and taking it all for me." 

You loved the pain, and he gave it to you like no one else could. You were already ruined for anyone else, but he didn't know that.

His hand felt so deep inside of you that you swear you could feel it in your stomach.

"Harder." You begged,  and he obliged.

"You like me filling you like this, slut? I'm going to stretch your pussy so well for my big cock."

You continued to rock backward in tandem with his movements, it didn't take long at all until you were almost there, panting and gripping the sheets.

He stopped and slowly pulled his hand from your cunt, leaving you feeling more hollowed out than a pumpkin.

You left his lap and looked at him just in time to see his shirt come off. His body was just as beautiful as you remembered it, something of pure art and fantasy combined. Tattooed, muscular, and smooth you just wanted to lick every single inch of him, you had to.

You climbed back into his lap and pushed him back while you leaned forward and placed your lips to the very warm flesh of his collarbone. Your lips made their way down slowly to his nipples and enveloped one in your mouth.

"Ah." A sound of surprise and pleasure came from him, and you loved it, you loved that you could make him feel that way, you wanted more.

You took your mouth from his chest and crawled backward until you sat between his legs.

You undid his pants and pushed his underwear down along with him. You had almost forgotten just how massive his cock was. It was veiny and the tip was a blushed shade of pink that made your mouth water.

You spit in both your hands and wrapped them both around his shaft.

You slid your spit slicked hands over his leaking head before slowly bringing then down to the base.

"Faster darling. Don't play with me." He threatened with a grunt. You did as he asked and even added your mouth.

His hands tangled tightly in your hair at once.

It was hard to take him even halfway into your mouth without you gagging around his size and thickness filling your throat.

As you sucked his dick, you stared at the three black sixes on his lower stomach and watched as they moved as his muscles flexed.

"What I wouldn't give to cum down your throat right now."

You moaned around his cock at the desperation and lust in his voice.

"So fucking good for me. You suck my cock so well with your little whore mouth." He gripped your hair tighter but still not enough to hurt.

Him lying there, moaning and groaning as you pleased him made you all the more impossibly wet, you could feel it as you squeezed your thighs together.

"Please come here." He asked as he released your hair and sat up.

As you let his cock leave your mouth and too sat up only for him to lift and drag you onto his lap once again. He reached down and guided his cock into your entrance.

As you lowered yourself onto him he made a noise that should've stopped your heart.

It was a moan and a sigh all at once, he combined that with dropping his head onto your shoulder. The fullness and warmth of his cock inside of you, every little move he made, he was all just too much. How could you survive something like this a second time, especially with being this close to him.

He didn't move even an inch for a moment, not until he lifted his head off of your body and peered at you with those inky black eyes through his just as inky dark hair.

His net movements were fast, rough, and hard. He grabbed your hair from behind, forcing your head as far back as it could go without breaking anything. Your chest was arched towards him and he used it to his advantage by taking a nipple into his mouth as he bucked his hips into you quickly. All you could do was grip his shoulders for dear life as he fucked into you, fingernails sinking deeper and deeper into his muscular flesh the closer he pushed you to your high.

You felt the little sharp sting of him pinching your nipple between his teeth. You couldn't help but fall completely apart as you moaned out the filthiest curse words that you could.

Once he let your hair go and you could properly look at him, you saw beads of dark liquid forming on his shoulders. Your nails and grip had drawn blood, real human blood.

All you could do was stare. He bled just like you, he was vulnerable just like you, just like anyone else.

"Hm?" He caught your staring but seemed confused.

"I-I hurt you. I'm sorry." You furrowed your eyebrows with guilt.

He laughed, it was a real laugh, not a teasing one, not an unamused snort. His nose crinkled and his more prominent two front teeth were made more visible.

"It didn't hurt, I didn't even know you did it." He tried to get a look at the little droplets himself before wiping one away with his finger to show there was no mark left, he had somehow healed.

Each fleeting glimpse of his humanity vanished as soon as you spotted it.

His dick was beginning to soften inside of you despite him not getting off yet.

"Did you want to kiss it and make it better for me?" His voice was seductively playful and you couldn't tell if he was joking or not until he brought his blood-smeared fingertips to your lips.

You looked him in the eyes as you took them into your mouth and sucked them clean. He looked satisfied and you could feel his dick twitch back to life inside of you, showing you how much he liked that. Without a second thought, you attached your mouth to his shoulder and began to lick and cuck at the blood droplets where the wounds once were. The moment reminded you of when you were a child and they told you that wine was the blood of Christ, except this was so much better. You wanted to show him you were willing to take him in any way possible, to submit to every desire he had.

He pushed his now hard cock as far as it would go into you.

"I want to do something to you." He whispered as he continued to slowly thrust.

"Do it." Your reply was fast.

"It's going to hurt you." He added.

"Do it."

“I will. For now, shut up and bounce on my cock, slut.” his tattooed hand grabbed throat “ and you better fucking ride it harder and faster than you did that stupid Jesus loving freak.” his face read of disgust.

“Yes daddy,” you replied trying to hide the smirk at the satisfaction on his face from you calling him that.

He dropped his hand from your neck and you began to move your hips as he laid back. You would normally start slow, but you let him have it. Everything about him was incomparable to anyone you’ve ever slept with.

“Fuck, like that baby.” His hair was messy, his eyes were squeezed shut and his tattoo that looked like a snake that wrapped around his torso almost looked like it was slithering. 

“You like that daddy? I took every inch of your big cock just for you.” you loved the power over him that he was letting you have and you were going to make sure you got to enjoy it.

His hand shot to your hip and he squeezed.

“I swear If you fucking make me cum right now you’ll fucking pay for it,” he grunted obviously trying to hold back seeing as his hand was digging into your skin as if it was the last lifeline between him and losing it.

“Don’t you want to cum in my pussy daddy? Fill it full of cum and watch it drip out of me?” you continued to tease him and bring him even closer as you jackhammered up and down on his rock hard dick.

“Fuck, this is your last damn warning bitch.” his jaw was clenched, but it was too late, you were already falling apart on top of him, once again saying the dirtiest shit you could as he shuttered under you, barely hanging on as he watched you cum.

You paused, breathing heavily for a moment of rest, but it didn't last long. He was pulling out of you and throwing you face down on the bed, holding your hands by the wrists behind your back.

“I fucking told you, didn’t I?” 

“Sorry, dadd-”

“Did I say you could speak bitch?”

He wasn’t even inside you anymore but you’re empty walls clenched as you let out a small moan onto the bed sheets.

“Now let’s see just how fucking much you’re willing to take. Be good for me darling.”

You were scared but excited at the same time, the adrenaline that coursed through your veins was nothing like you’ve ever felt before.

“Yes daddy.”

“Don’t fucking move.”

You listened and stayed completely still.

You felt his hand cover the back of your neck. It got warmer and warmer until it felt searingly hot, it was burning your skin. You bit down on your lip so hard it had to have left a bruise just to keep from screaming. There was no way of stopping the whimpers that came from you in the few seconds that his hand was on your skin.

“There,” he said and sounded as though he was admiring his work before releasing your body and letting you sit up. By the time you sat up though, the pain was entirely gone as if it had never even happened.

“It’s the mark, to match.” you knew he meant that he had just branded you with an upside-down cross to match his and your son’s. You were too busy noticing the wetness on your cheeks and wondering where they had come from to concentrate on this strange sentimental moment.

You felt something warm roll down your cheek and lifted a hand to wipe away what you now realized were tears, but he gently grabbed your wrist.

With his other hand went to your chin and guided your head to face him.

You were met face to face with him, his dark eyes peering into yours and also assessing your wet cheeks.

Both hands now went to your cheeks and his thumbs wiped over the wet mess on your skin. 

He was trying to dry your tears.

“I’m sorry I hurt you.” his voice was quiet. It was a glimmer of sincerity, a splinter of sweetness.

“I didn’t even feel it.” you joked but he didn’t buy it or laugh, instead he just continued to stare into your eyes with both hands on your face.

He leaned in so slowly, head tilting slightly and his lips met yours so gently. Your eyes closed and pressed your lips harder into his.

It was a sweet kiss but it held the strength and intensity of being punched in the stomach.

Your hands came up to roam the back of his shaggy, dark hair but your mind was elsewhere.

You imagined him as an average man, your son as a normal little boy, you imagined a family. Cuddling on the couch, touching him whenever you pleased, your son being able to play with his father, your life with him would never grow dull. However, your daydreams were dashed as your hand accidentally met with a horn. 

What was wrong with you? You knew these things were stupid and unattainable, he was unattainable. Although you had known this fact from the start, here you were sleeping with him again. He fucked you over so hard, he was pure evil and you knew it, but yet here you were falling for him even harder. To be fair though, was there a soul living or dead that could resist him, that ever has been able to?

You pulled away, his hands left your face.

He looked at you with wide eyes, he looked almost shocked, scared. There was some kind of very deep feeling moment between the both of you, some kind of wordless exchange of revelations. 

A million things you wanted to say to him flooded your mind at this moment. There were so many things you wanted answers to ”Do you know how miserable I was? Do you know what it felt like waiting for you in fear the entire time? Do you know how much I hate not being able to hate you? Do you know how bad it hurts me seeing your face in my son’s? Do you know how badly you ruined my entire adult life? Do you know how hurtfully perfect you look? Do you know how lucky and cursed I feel all at once? Do you feel any weight for the things you've done to me and my family?” but you were too scared this moment would end, that he would never come back, that he would take your son and leave. You wanted to cry, but you pushed the entire internal war out of your mind, you boxed it all away just to not ruin this moment.

During your thoughts and your stares at one another, his face had softened and his eyebrows furrowed.

“Y/n” you realized that it was the first time he had ever spoken your name out loud, and as beautiful as it had sounded coming from his lips, you didn't want to hear it spoken so guilt filled. “I’m so sor-”

"Are you going to make me cum again or not?" You broke the silence, and he seemed thrown off for a moment. You didn't know what he was apologizing for, but you didn't want to know. Not only did you want to shut this sad moment down just to have the fun back, but something inside of you hurt to hear and see him like this.

An expression you were familiar with him having flickered onto his face, a smirk. It relieved you and set the fire in your body back alight.

He tackled you with his hands wrapped around you. You were flesh to flesh, his lips moving to the space above your breasts, sucking hard before moving onto another are.

“Dont fuck anyone else.” it wasn't sharp like his normal demands, it was almost as if he was asking you not to without making it into a real question.

You almost snorted as he continued making an army of marks that continued to trail lower and lower.

You almost snorted sarcastically.

“Then who the Hell am I supposed to fuck?”

“Me, fuck me.”

You did sarcastically laugh at this one. 

“Don't laugh at me.” he said defensively before sucking a new place by your belly button.

“What? Every few years you’ll swing by and I just have to wait until then?”

“No. Are you even enjoying this anymore or have you now set your focus on calling me out?” he looked up at you with an arched brow.

“Calling you out seems more fun right now.” you were only half joking, all of that hurt hfrom earlier was now festering back up to the surface upon hearing his stupid lies.

“I told you I’d talk, and I will. Trust me.” he sat up and looked down at you.

“I’ve trusted you before and that was shitty.” you argued.

“Then why the fuck are you fucking me now? Why the fuck are you letting me mark you? Why the fuck are you telling me you belong to me?” he shot back.

“BECAUSE I WANT TO PRETEND YOU'RE NOT… NOT...I DON’T KNOW...THE ACTUAL FUCKING DEVIL!” you whisper yelled at him through clenched teeth.

He came down over you and looked you in the eyes for a moment with such a look you thought he might kill you, but instead his voice was quiet and calm.

“If you think I’m incapable of feeling then you’re wrong, you're dead wrong. If I didn’t feel, then why would I want my son? Why have I been watching him grow, watching you love and take care of him and doing my best not to interfere with your time with him. I may not be mortal but I have feelings, I have empathy. Do you understand the shit I have to see and be in charge of? Do you know what it feels like to just want something so pure in good while living in something so fucked? Watching you and our son has been the only sliver of heaven that I’ve ever been able to have.” his arms were shaking as he held himself over you. You had never seen his body show any signs of tiredness or weakness, even his wounds had healed right up. He was shaken talking about this and it was obvious.

It hit you hard. Why would he want to take him? Why did all of this just make sense?

“So please, don’t take this away from me right now. Let me make you cum again, let me just have this for a little longer and we can talk.”

You were stunned. He had felt the same way, he wanted to drag this out just as much as you did, he wanted to cherish this. The question now in the air was, if you both wanted to be together, then why couldn't you?

You yanked him by the hair, forcing his lips to collide with yours. Your tongue clashed with his split one, but it no longer surprised you or made you nervous. While little about him was normal, what was normal anyway? From the moment you saw him as he really was you had thought he was perfect, so why until now had you been wishing for him to be the man you first saw at the bar? Was it because the puzzle piece of his humanity had been missing in an otherwise perfect puzzle?

Your teeth gnashed together as if you were young, new lovers blooming with anticipation, as if you had never touched before now, despite fucking for god knows how long already.

He bit at your already sore lip you had bitten down on, but he wasn't harsh.

“I want you.” you told him meaning more than just how he took it. He reached between both of you and pushed himself into your already abused core, you winced from the ache and the sensitivity.

“Close your eyes” his voice was so quiet you almost didn't hear his instruction.

You closed them though.

“Now imagine me like you.”

“Why?” you asked.

“Humor me.” 

You did, you imagined him like he was the night of the bar, like you had thought of him earlier.

“Now run your hands through my hair.”

With your eyes still closed, you felt for his hair before coming them through the soft, wavy strands. Your eyes opened just to make sure what you were feeling was correct. As you looked at his hornless head, his brown eyes looked down at you. Now you properly looked him in the eyes and now that you could see his irises, you knew now that he was looking right at you, not just at you though. He looked at you like you were the most beautiful person he had ever seen with a small smile of amusement.

“I just wanted to have this moment with you, like you. I thought it would mean something to you to not have to look into cold, black pits.” 

The man looking and speaking to you right now was not the devil, he wasn't horrible or evil but neither was the man he was before but you were yet to know why he did the things he did.

You lifted your neck this time to kiss him and his lips chased yours as you laid back onto the pillow. He once again slowly began to thrust, short breaths and quiet moans escaped you both. Your legs entangled around his hips, angling your own body so he could hit just the right place.

“Be with me.” his voice shook as he continued to thrust “I’ll do anything.” he sounded just so weak as if he were pleading.

“I’m already yours, don't pretend you don't know that.”

“Let's have a family then, I’ll stay.” he rested his forehead on top of yours, his eyes were closed, hips still moving hard cut slow as if with each powerful but passionate thrust was a chance to convince you to be with him.

“As-” you could feel yourself coming closer and struggling harder to catch your breath. “As long as you stay.” You knew it, if he went away, if you lost him tonight, nothing would ever feel this good again, you'd never feel this complete for as long as you lived.

“Let's start now on expanding.” you could see his slight smile before his voice turned serious and sultry.” want me to put another baby in you?”

“Please, fuck I’m so close.”

“Come on baby, cum for me one more time.” he picked up the pace with his hips up just a little more. “Let me get you pregnant again.”

He only thrust into you a few more times before you were coming undone underneath him.

“Fuck, I love you fuck fuck fuck.” you moaned as he also let go, burying himself deeper than he already had been.

“I love you, I love you too.” he messily kissed your lips as you felt his last few pumps slow.

Only when he had said it back did you realize you had said it at all. 

You were still breathing heavily as he pulled out and laid down next you. There was silence between you, for a while as you both recovered.

"I said I would talk so here it is."

You decided to just lay there and listen to him.

"I've always known we were supposed to be together, always. There are things I just know, I can't explain it, sometimes I just know destiny and sometimes I don't until certain events happen. Ever since I became the king of hell I've always known that eventually there would be one woman that would bring me to my knees. They call her Lilith, although that's not her name just as satan, the devil, whatever, isn't mine. There have been stories and mythology written about you that just aren't true, much like everything else in my life. When I met your mother, I knew I was fucked. So I stopped you from being able to conceive, how was I supposed to know I was only helping destiny along? When you summoned me I was nervous, although curious as to what you would be like, I never watched you until you began to work on summoning me. I developed a plan. I thought if I just gave you what you wanted and then took it away from you then you would hate me, you would never want to see me again, but yet again I plated into destiny. The moment I saw my son… when I watched you care for him and love him, I-I felt this longing. I wanted to hold him, I wanted to be with you both. I kept my distance and fought against the urge to just drop in and tell you how I felt. I resented you for the power you held over me, but at the same time I wanted to give you your space and let you have your time with him. I was still going to take him but at that point it was out of love. I knew you were still angry with me anyway, rightfully so, I also thought… that you couldn't love someone like me anyway, you were better off with a mortal and I wanted to let you live your life. I watched your pathetic attempts to protect our son from me, at least you thought you were only trying to protect him. You're a good mother, just like yours was. When our son was really little I used to sneak into his nursery and just hold him and stare at him, I could see you in him. The point where I knew I had to step in was the priest. Not only did he treat my son like his, not only did you fuck him and make me jealous but-"

He abruptly wet quiet just as the anger in his voice seemed to pick up.

"I'm sorry." You replied.

"It's not that, it's not any of that that makes me hate him, it's not my jealousy." He still didn't say what it was, but instead he got out of bed.

"Where are you going?" You sat straight up.

"I'm going to shower if that's okay." He replied as he shuffled for the bathroom attached to your room.

"Sure." He was already in there by the time you uttered out your dumbstruck reply.

He had said he would stay, you don't know why him doing average things in your home just astounded you.

You laid back in the bed with the reassurance of him planning to stay and you thought about it all.

At first you asked yourself what your mother would think of this, what she would say. Maybe if she knew everything that he had just told you she simply wouldn't say anything at all. She had been able to love the devil's son and see him for just the little boy he really was, so maybe she would've done the same for the devil himself had she really known him.

You were beginning to feel uncomfortable with the stickiness of his speed leaking out and smearing all over your thighs.

Some part of you was nervous to go into the bathroom with him showering in there, but it was your house.

You ran to the bathroom as fast as it could to keep the cum from dripping everywhere and making a mess on the floor.

You paused as you caught a glimpse of his silhouette through the shower curtain.

His horns had returned, but you didn't look at him as much as his overall shape, you could help your staring.

"I hear your heart again, are you looking at me?" He chuckled and your eyes went wide with the horror of being caught.

"I…"

"Do you want in here with me?"

"...y-yes?" 

"Get in, I promise to just let you shower, no funny business." He offered.

He kept his word though, he did his own thing in the shower and so did you. He did look jarringly beautiful with the water beading on his tattooed skin and muscles, but you didn't know how much more your body could physically handle of him so you kept your hands to yourself.

He got out of the shower before you, you were a little concerned at the silence so you got out soon after.

You found a fresh towel and pajamas waiting for you on the bathroom sink so you quickly dressed.

He just sat there in a white t-shirt and black sweat pants at the foot of your bed. His head was down and he looked to be in deep thought as he stared at the floor. He looked a little sad.

"Have you seen him since you've been here?" You asked curiously, making him finally look up and shake his head.

"Would you like to?"

He seemed shocked by your offer.

"I wouldn't want to wake him…" 

"It's alright, he's a good sleeper, he'll go back to bed… if you want to that is."

"I really really want to, I haven't seen him person to person since he was a newborn."

You led him down the hall and pushed open your son's cracked bedroom door.

His night light dimly lit the form of his little body snuggled in his toddler sized bed.

You let his father take a few apprehensive steps into the room, slowly approaching him before he knelt on the floor by the bed.

You just looked on at the little moment.

He gently pushed his son's shaggy hair from his sleeping face, but caused him to stir.

"Daddy?" You heard your son's sleepy voice ask. You had no idea how he knew it was his father, and from the look on his father's face, neither did he.

"Hey buddy." 

Your son sat up and threw his arms around his father's neck, who promptly picked him up and stood. He wrapped his arms around the little boy, holding him close.

"How did you know it was me?" 

Your son unwrapped his arms from his father and looked at his face.

You saw his lips begin to quiver and his eyes fill with tears as he started to break down.

"Oh no." You whispered as you saw your boy stare at the horns on his father's head.

"Your horns are scaring him." You whispered.

Your son patted the top of his own head as he sobbed in his father's arms.

"Me too, I too."

"Oh." You said as you realized that your son was answering his dad.

"You have them too? That's how you knew, huh?"

Your son nodded to his father and began to cry harder. His dad pulled him back into his body, lightly shushing him and patting his back. He buried his head in the little boy's hair much like you had the day in your car after he was horrifically baptized.

The moment hit you like a train.

He had missed his father all this time, and you had no idea.

"you know I'm always with you, right? You and mommy both." 

Your son nodded into his father's neck, soaking his shirt with tears although his father didn't seem to mind at all.

"I know you hear me sometimes. You know I'm here." 

Your son pulled away from him again to look at him.

"Daddy-" his words were cut off by upset hiccups from crying so hard "no leave."

"I'm not. I'll stay, I promise." 

His father knelt back down on the floor and attempted to lay the boy back in his bed, but his little hands stayed locked around him.

"I'll be here when you wake up, and all of the rest of the days when you wake up from now on, you can let go, I'll be right here."

Your son finally relinquished his hold on his father who pushed more hair from his son's face.

"And mommy?" Your son's eyes look at you now.

"Mommy has always been here, silly." His father then spoke something in a strange language, it might've been the one from your dream after your son was born.

Your son gave his father a nod not just as if he understood, but he did understand this very strange language. You had never heard your son speak it, and you had no idea that he even knew a whole other language, until he spoke it back to his father.

He sat there knelt beside his son's bed until he drifted off to sleep. You watched as he gave him a kiss on his forehead before standing and turning to face you.

You walked into the hall and closed your son's bedroom door when he looked at you with a look of concern.

"There's still more I have to tell you, it's the most important thing."

"You're going to have to trust me, okay?" He asked from his seat on the sofa beside you. "There are things I know and things I don't, you have the power to change destiny, and right now what I'm seeing is someone is going to try to take you away from us, from your family."

"Okay," you tried to patiently follow, ready for him to say anything.

"Namjoon is going to kill you."

"Why's he going to kill me?" 

"I had this deal with his whore grandmother… she wasn't happy with it, it wasn't my fault. It's not my fault mortals are idiots."

"Hey." You firmly snapped at him.

"It's just what I do, I teach lessons. Anyway, I believe Namjoon is going to hurt you and maybe even our son. He can't physically harm me, I'm immortal, but he can hurt the things I care about. Unfortunately, I can't kill him either, I can't kill humans, God's rules. So I can't stop him, there's nothing I can do but pass this to you. It doesn't matter what you do, Namjoon will hunt you down."

"Okay." You simply just sat there looking calm on the outside but terrified on the inside.

"So, y/n… I think it's kill or be killed in this case. If you die, I'm not sure how much I can do to protect our son but take him with me…" 

To hell was what he meant.

You let out a sigh as you stared at the floor and scraped together some kind of plan.

"Take my soul." You offered.

"Why?"

"In case something happens to me, take my soul." You were sure of your decision.

"I'm not taking your soul." He declined.

"Why?" It was your turn now to ask.

"Do you want to go to hell? Do you realize how many eternities you would be tortured down there before I ever found you?" 

"No." You answered both questions and seemed less sure of your offer now.

"I'm not taking your soul. Our son could come and go with me because he has that power, but you, a pure mortal… you would be in more pain than you could ever imagine." 

"But if I killed a man… wouldn't I go anyway?" You pointed out.

"Not if it was out of self defense for you and your family."

"What the fuck am I saying?! I can't kill father Namjoon!" You realized.

"Y/n, I know he's going to kill you, and I don't want to lose you, I'd do anything not to lose you. What about our son? What about our second child?"

Your mouth dropped open.

"Second child? It-we…?"

"It's not just you living in that mortal body anymore. I know, just like I did the moment I gave you our son. You have to live, you have to do this, you have to trust me."  He reached for your hand and threaded his fingers through yours. "I love you and I need you here with us."

"How do I do it?" You gave in.

You were terrified as the phone rang.

You had just left your son with the babysitter and you sat in your car. You were alone but you felt him near you.

"Hey!" Namjoon's voice came through cheerfully and it made you feel sick.

"Hey, I'm not doing so great tonight. Everything is a bit heavy and I kind of want some fresh air. Would you go for a walk with me at the park? I know it's late but…" 

"Of course. The one closest to where you live, right? I'll meet you there in a few."

You thanked him before hanging up.

"I'm sorry you have to do this." He appeared right beside you in the passenger's seat now, but you didn't look at him, instead you spaced out while looking out the window at the dark park. You were nervous, you were trying to ready yourself, you were trying to wrap your head around this situation.

"What happens after? What do I do right after?" You asked.

"I'll take care of everything. No one will know." The grim thought of what that entailed was shadowed by reassurance of only having one task to do. "You just wait in the car, I'll drive us home. I'll take care of you." 

"What if he sees this opportunity to kill me like I do with him?" You asked with your hands shaking in your lap.

"I think he would wait for a moment when our son is with you, pick you off at the same time." 

Your mouth was dry, but you still tried to swallow down the weight of his words.

"But what if I die? You said you don't know all things." You continued to think your worries out loud.

"I also said people can change destiny, they do it all the time." 

"You haven't been able to." Your point made him go silent a moment. It was true, he had been fighting against his destiny with you since before you were born only to end up with you.

"Part of me didn't want to change it, even if I hated it at first. I've always wanted you. The first time I saw you I knew I wouldn't be able to stay away from you. The first time you saw me, I just wanted you to look at me that way forever, I didn't care about anything anymore and that was scary. You're my Lilith, my eternal soulmate, there was never any fighting you. There's nothing more powerful than what we have, not me, not god himself."

"What if you're tricking me?" You asked abruptly.

"You really think I would?" His voice sounded hurt and you could feel him looking at you as you said nothing "of course you do, of course you'd think that after what I've done and because of who I am." His voice was soft now like he had accepted that option "I wish I could take back what I did to you, everything I've done to you. I wish I never would've made that deal with your mother, I wish you would've had a family with a normal man, a normal life… what have I done?"

"Like you said" you sighed "it was supposed to happen anyway, it's not all on you. I've suffered for you, and now I'm going to kill for you. Would I be doing that- any of this if I really thought you were tricking me?" You admitted. "Maybe I'm just blinded by you, so in love with you and wanting a family with you that I can't see anything else, you're the devil, it's probably what you do, but what other option do I have anyway?" 

"We could go home." He offered softly. "We could have our family and play pretend until it's ripped away." You could hear him swallow louder than his soft words."Then I'll have nothing, but at least I would've had everything for just a fraction of a moment in my eternal life."

"I'm not going to live forever anyway you know, our son might, but I'm human. I die, and when I do I'm destined to be tortured in hell for eternity." 

"You're not going to hell." 

"How do you know?" You asked partially out of curiosity "I'm in love with Satan, I bare his mark, I bared his child. How much more sinful can I be? You can't sit there and tell me Satan's soulmate is going to heaven."

"God has never let me have anything. If he decides it's your destiny and your time to go, if you're taken from me and I can't have you in life, he's not going to let me have you in death." He explained.

You sat there thinking about what he said and came to the very real conclusion that you were most likely going to die tonight. God wouldn't let him have you, he had already seen that Namjoon would kill you, you were going to die. 

Your eyes began to fill with tears as everything finally began to sink in.

"Please take care of our son." 

"Don't." He snapped at you "Don't you say that shit like I'm going to lose you."

You began to sob, you weren't listening to him.

"You're going to go out there and fuck him up and that's going to be the end of it." His voice was stern, but you were falling apart. You let your head fall onto the steering wheel.

"Why wont you just take my fucking soul?!" You cried in despair and frustration "you have every single fucking thing in my life but that, just take it god damn it! Take it and let me burn until you find me. I will obviously go through anything for you and our son at this point. Just fucking take it." 

"You don't deserve it. I don't deserve you, okay? I've fucking destroyed your life, I'm not dragging this into the timeless afterlife, no matter how badly it hurts. We have one single shot, and this is it. I'm fucking horrible, I'm the worst of the absolute worst, but there’s no way I'm going to be that selfish to let you rot in hell because of me." 

"Please?" Your voice was a desperate squeak as you finally turned to him. "Fuck." You uttered at what you saw.

There was a dark liquid running from his pitch black eyes and down his cheeks.

"Is-is that fucking blood? Are you crying blood?" 

You watched as it pooled at his chin and dropped onto his white shirt.

"Please do everything you can tonight." He ignored your question and begged you.

If you had a doubt that he loved you before, you didn't now. You watched as he closed his eyes.

"God," he began, he didn't seem as though he was talking to you at all "just let me have this, please? I'll do anything. Just let me have my family."

The dark car was suddenly illuminated by headlights coming from behind. You turned to see a car pulling into the parking lot.

"I'll be with you." He spoke as Namjoon parked beside your car.

The passenger's seat was empty when you looked back.

This was it.

You felt for the pocket knife you had put in your pocket upon leaving the house and your adrenaline began to rush through your body.

You willed your weak legs to get out of the car.

You forced a half-hearted smile but did your best not to look him in the eyes.

It was quiet at first as you both started down the dark trail.

"Don't get offended, but you look terrible." 

You hadn't slept since you had gotten your mission yesterday night, your mind felt fried and stressed and tired.

"It's been hard." You were honest about how you felt.

"Why is your lip bruised? Did you get hit?" He pried as you thought back to how hard you had bit it the other night.

"No, I did it, by accident." Although it was the truth, you wouldn't have believed it either with the way you had said it.

"Are-are you seeing anyone? It's been a few days since we talked and-"

"No." You lied quickly.

"If there's anything I can do to help you or your son… I know things are still rough for you…" 

"We'll be okay." 

He gave you a strange look.

"You're not still worried about… him?" You could hear the suspension in Namjoon's voice and you knew you had to say something to extinguish it for now.

"I am, I just don't know what's left to do, I feel so hopeless." You said as you saw the path begin to lead into a more wooded area ahead.

"Don't you feel him right now?" Namjoon asked.

"He's always just… around, I'm used to it. Maybe it's just me at this point." 

"What's that on your neck?" He reached out to see.

You had to do it now, you felt like your mark had given you away.

You stepped back out of his grasp as you quickly took the knife from your pocket and flipped it open. You didn't know if he had time to see it or not before you lunged at him.

He had put his hands up to stop you but the force you had come at him sent him toppling backward. 

You went to plunge the knife into his neck only to feel his hand around your wrist stopping you.

He yelled for help but there wasn't another soul at the park, you had been here awhile waiting, you would know.

You used your other hand to help overpower him, but he was still stronger even with all of this adrenaline and chemicals coursing through your body, even with the image of your family in your mind.

"Stop!" Namjoon yelled at you, but this was too far gone to stop now, your mind was already made up. You knew that if you stopped now then you would be the one who died.

Your arms were beginning to grow tired and your strength was weakening and because of that he was able to shift the point of the knife towards you.

In one last burst of strength you tried to switch the knife's direction back towards him but your muscles just gave out.

You didn't feel the pain of the plunge into your chest at first, but you felt the crack of your ribs at the sheer force. You were in shock, it didn't feel at all like you had just been stabbed. You let go of Namjoon and rolled over onto the cool grass as you tried to process everything.

You could hear Namjoon panicking, sitting over you, trying to help you,  it was confusing.

Why was he trying to help you? He wanted you dead.

"Please? Where are you?" You choked out. It was hard to breathe, you felt like you were drowning as you looked up at the stars.

"Get away from her." It was the only voice you wanted to hear, it had brought you some kind of peace.

You saw Namjoon look at something with wide eyes before leaving your line of vision. His quick footsteps on the ground you lay on got further and further away. 

You continued to choke and gasp.

Jungkook watched in the distance as the knife was turned on you and the blade disappeared in your chest.

It hadn't hurt until now. It was as if you were his voodoo doll. He had never felt pain before, but once he felt the sting, he knew exactly what it was, although his pain came from the inside. Until now he had been watching coldly, waiting for this to happen, knowing you would die.

You had to die, there was no other way you'd let him have his son, there was no way you'd let your son end this world. You were too compassionate, too human, too emotional. You were all the things Jungkook never thought he was. Perhaps you completed him in many ways he only was now able to realize.

He was able to fool you so well, tell you all the sweet things you needed to hear to lead you to your own demise. But why did it only now hurt him? Had it been so easy to lie to you because maybe somewhere deep down in his unbeating heart he knew that maybe you really were the one? He felt as though that as you laid there dying, that you were forcing your most human parts into him, you were cursing him.

He had never actually thought you were his Lilith, his soulmate, not until now as he watched you bleeding out and physically felt it. He felt the weight of every sweet thing and lie he had ever told you pressing on his chest. Your face, the sweet moments, holding you, the guilt of never telling you his name, everything flashed before him. He wondered for a moment if he was dying too.

"I have given you a gift, the gift to feel.Your heart is broken, child. Go to her, be with her in her last breaths before I bring her home."

It wasn't even a voice that Jungkook heard, but it wasn't in his head either. He knew who was speaking to him. He suddenly felt enraged. He wasn't going to let God take you away from him.

"Get away from her." Jungkook boomed making the silly mortal that was panicking over you run at the sight and power of his voice.

Jungkook knelt down beside you and watched as the blood flowed from the corners of your mouth and tears streamed from your eyes.

"He's not going to take you from me! God damn it! Please don't take her!" Jungkook knew you wouldn't go to hell, god himself had said so. You did nothing wrong, you had been fooled by him just like Eve had been, and Eve still went to heaven when she died. He would never see you again and it hit him harder than anything ever had before.

Jungkook  lifted his hand, the one he hadn't unknowingly slipped through your fingers, and produced a flame which gave way to a scroll of paper.

He pulled you into his lap as you continued to choke. He put your hand to your wound and dipped your fingers into your blood.

"It's okay, it's going to be fine, please just sign it, you have to move, sign it." He let go of your hand but it was limp. There was no more choking, only a faint rattling coming from you now.

"Please please just sign the paper." He begged. "I'm so sorry, I was wrong, I did this and I'm so sorry. It hurts so badly, sign the paper, I need your soul, I need to find you." 

Silence.

There was no hummingbird heartbeat, there was no heartbeat at all as he looked into your empty eyes that still looked back at him. Your body lay in his lap with the mark he had given you, but you were gone. 

“But I love you...” it was the first time in his existence that he had said it and meant it. You had never known he didn't mean it, you had never known everything he did was a lie, maybe it was best that way. Despite not feeling any of it before, he felt it now, all at once. If he could do it all over again just to mean it, just to experience those feelings along with you he would. He would have held you longer, cried more, he wouldn't have ever let you do this, he wouldn't have fed you those dreams and lies and he would have protected you. Namjoon never wanted to hurt you.

All Jungkook wanted to do now was hold you, so he did until you grew cold. It wasn't fair he only got to feel this after you were gone as punishment. He wanted to go back, he wanted to start over, but it was too late. What kind of cruel god would gift him with his now?

His chest continued to sting, as his anger continued to fester. He hated everything, God, Namjoon, himself, this horrible fucking mortal world. 

He was going to burn it all. He never wanted to make another deal with any human ever again.

Whilst he couldn't touch these stupid fucking humans, his son could, he was half human.

This wasn't supposed to happen for another few years. He didn't think his son was old enough just yet, but it would have to do, he was still naive enough to destroy humanity on his father's command. All he had to do was show his son what he was capable of, fill him with rage for his dead mother, and watch the world burn. All Jungkook knew was fire and destruction, now his son could learn as well, both of them with a bitterness in their hearts.

Jungkook let out a loud scream of anger and frustration and all of these new feelings that he didn't want that felt like they were internally ripping him apart. 

The entire park was sent up in flames, including your body.

The end was coming early for this world, it was over. He was going to destroy every last one of God's precious creations for making him feel like this.

[atlafan]

Part One - “Call me Jane.”

a/n: here’s part one of nanny!H, I’m very excited about this series. I’m not sure how many parts it’s going to be, so please don’t ask lmao. Once I know how many parts it’ll be, I’ll make a master post for it. I’m just too excited not at least share the first part because Harry is just too cute in this! Feedback and reblogs are super helpful, and keep me motivated, especially when it comes to writing series. (not proofread) You can support me here if you’re able!

Warnings: none...for now

Words: 4.1K

Pairing: Harry x OC (Jane Watson)

Master Post

Harry found himself in a real bind. He was twenty-six years old, had an early childhood education degree, and the daycare he worked at was going under. He had just been promoted a month prior too, how could things go wrong so quickly? Times like this he really hated that he stayed in the states. Childcare services weren’t nearly as fucked up back home. His dream was to save up enough money to open up his own pre-school at some point, but it was really tough.

There was this weird stigma that if adult men wanted to work with babies and toddlers then that made them a pedophile or something of the sort. That wasn’t the case with Harry. His minor in school was psychology because cognitive development intrigued him. He also loved babies and little ones. He loved watching them learn and discover.

Only now, he was without a job in an already struggling field. He and the other employees weren’t exactly given a big notice before they were told the business was going under. Harry mostly felt bad for the parents of the kids that had to find new child care centers. He knew he’d have to compete with his co-workers for any available jobs, and he knew they were bound to find places before him because they were women. It was their fault, and he knew it. He was experiencing a prejudice that they must face all the time.

He looked into Care.com, but none of the jobs on there seemed like long-term gigs, and he didn’t want to just be a glorified baby sitter. He figured if he could find a well paying nannying job, he could do that for a bit until finding a job at a new facility, or even set up his dream pre-school. During his search on Indeed, he saw a position for a live-in nanny – jackpot! Live-in meant long-term, and long-term meant lots of money. It also meant he could get rid of his apartment and not have to pay rent for a while. He clicked on the ad that was posted only a couple of weeks ago.

Live-in Nanny Needed for Help with Eight-Month-Old

Minimum requirements:

·        Bachelor’s in either early childhood education or elementary education

·        At least two years’ experience working babies/children

Three professional references required

Applicant is subject to thorough background check for the safety of the child and mother.

Other tasks as needed include:

·        Cooking

·        Light cleaning

·        Grocery shopping/running other errands

If applicant is selected, they will be paid a flat rate of $1600 bi-weekly, will live in “in-law” section of the house, and a car will be provided for them. A resume, cover letter, and three professional references may be sent directly to jpwatson@gmail.com

After reading everything over, this seemed like Harry’s best bet. Some of it seemed a little too good to be true, but this was a risk he needed to take right now. He just hoped the position hadn’t already been filled. That night he spent some time updating his LinkedIn, making sure all of his privacy settings were up to date on all of his social media, and then wrote out a resume and cover letter. The last part was his least favorite because he knew a proper resume and cover letter had to be curated to the specific job, and it made things all the more tedious. By the time he was done, it was late. He didn’t want to seem unprofessional, so he waited to send the email until the next morning.

Subject: Nannying Advert on Indeed

To: jpwatson@gmail.com

From: hes2194@gmail.com

Good morning,

My name is Harry and I’m interested in the nannying advert you’ve posted on Indeed. For the last four years I’ve been working at P.B. & J.’s Child Care Center, and was recently promoted to team lead. Unfortunately, the business itself couldn’t remain afloat, and I was laid off.

Attached are my resume and cover letter. I’d be happy to provide the three references if I end up being considered for the position.

Thank you for your time and consideration,

Harry

Treat People With Kindness

He closes his laptop with a satisfied sigh after proofreading his email ten different times before he hit send. He takes a sip from his coffee, and sits back on his sofa. Now all he had to do was wait.

//

There was radio silence for two days. Harry was starting to think he would need to keep job hunting. He had bills to pay, and the last thing he wanted to do was ask his parents for help. They already looked down on his profession as it was. If he had his own car he’d become an uber driver or something, but he didn’t so he couldn’t. Then, by some stroke of luck, at 4:55PM on a Thursday, he gets an email from the address he had been hoping to see pop up.

Subject: Re: Nannying Advert on Indeed

To: hes2194@gmail.com

From: jpwatson@gmail.com

Good evening Harry,

My name is Jane Watson, thank you so much for your application. My apologies it has taken me a couple of days to get back to you. I am usually more responsive, but things have been a little crazy at work as of late. Upon further review of your resume and over letter, I would like to offer you an interview this Saturday at noon, if you are available. I can be flexible if that day and time do not work for you.

If you are able to come, and are still interested in the position, I ask that you please bring your references with you. I will want to call them right away. I am sure you can understand me wanting to thoroughly look into you before letting you into my daughter’s life.

I look forward to hearing back from you soon.

All my best,

Jane

Harry responded to her right away, he didn’t care how eager he seemed. He told her Saturday at noon worked great, and that he would definitely have his references, and anything else he needed to provide. She emailed him back an hour or so later with her cell phone number and address. For the first time in a while, Harry felt like he could breathe again. He knew it wasn’t a done deal that he’d be getting the job, but he was being given a chance, and for that he was thankful.

//

He wanted to make a good first impression on Saturday, so he made sure to wash his hair in the shower, and use his good mousse so his hair would look more orderly. He shaved to give himself that clean and sleek look, this was not a day to appear scruffy. He knew he didn’t need to be overly dressed up, but he also knew that you’re supposed to dress for the job you want and not the job you have. He irons a pair of tan slacks and pairs it with a blue button up. Not to brag, but his bum looked great in these slacks, and it was giving him all the confidence in the world. He puts on a floral tie, just to show a bit of his personality, makes sure his nail polish isn’t chipped, and makes sure all of his rings are looking shiny. He takes an uber out to Jane’s house. It was in a gated community, which he was expecting since he looked up the house beforehand. He wondered what she or her husband did for work to live in a place like this. Or perhaps she inherited the home? Either way, he was excited.

He thanks the driver, and knocks on the door as he was instructed to do. A woman with silver hair that was up in a nice bun opens the door.

“Hello, you must be Mr. Styles.” She smiles.

“Yes, hello.” He smiles back.

“I’m MaryAnne, please come in.” She steps aside to let Harry in.

“Thank you.”

“Miss Watson is just pumping, but you can wait for her here in her office.” She leads Harry down a corridor where he meets a grand double door. MaryAnne opens them and shows him inside. “Make yourself comfortable, dear. Can I get you anything? Coffee, water, tea?”

“I’m all set, but thank you very much.”

The woman nods and leaves him in the room alone. He stays standing as he didn’t want to assume where he should be sitting. There was a gorgeous desk with two chairs on the other side, but there was also a small round table with four chairs around it in the corner. She clearly held a lot of meetings here, or so it would seem. To pass the time he looks over her bookshelves, scanning over what she might be into. She seemed to be into fiction, but he had never heard of any of the books on some of the shelves, or the author. She had several by the same person. Before he could look further, he heard the clacking of heels on the hardwood floors approaching him.

Everything stopped when she walked in. Jane had her hair up in a flowing ponytail, a white blouse covered her top half, he notices that the first few buttons were left undone, probably to help with her pumping, and she had a black pencil skirt on that just came to her knees. She was short, and a little voluptuous, not that Harry was checking her out.  

“Hello, Mr. Styles, I’m sorry to keep you waiting.” He goes to stick his hand out for her to shake, but she walks around him and sits down at her desk. “Please, have a seat.”

He swallows and sits down.

“Y-you can just call me Harry if you like, Mrs. Watson.”

“I’m a Miss not a missus.” She says as she takes out a folder with a few sheets in it and a pen. “It says here you graduated Summa Cum Laude from Lesley University. That’s an incredible place to get a degree in education.”

“Thank you, I got a pretty decent scholarship, it was my reach school. I minored in psychology as well. I did my practicum hours at a daycare center that specialized in caring for children with disabilities. So, I’ve worked with all sorts of children. I prefer working with infants and toddlers, though.”

“And why is that?” She looks at him, clicking her pen, ready to take notes.

“Well, I just have more fun with them, to be honest. I like watching them discover new things. My favorite thing to do while working in the baby room at my last job was working with the babies on their tummy times. It was always rewarding to watch them get stronger. I feel like I just bond with them better.”

“I need to ask you some personal questions since this is a live-in position.”

“Of course.” Harry nods.

“Are you in any sort of relationship with anyone?”

“No, I’m single.”

“Have you ever been arrested, or do you have any sort of criminal history?”

“No.”

“I’m not one to judge, I think everyone deserves a second chance, I just have to ask these sort of things.” She says.

“I don’t have a criminal record, Miss Watson.”

“History of drug use?”

“I smoked a bit of weed when I was younger, but I don’t anymore. An edible once in a while, maybe, but never when I’m on the clock.”

“Just marijuana?”

“I’ve done shrooms a few times, but nothing other than that. Stupid kid stuff.”

“Again, not judging. I’d prefer you don’t have any drugs in the house, unless they’re for medical use. I know edibles can be prescribed by doctors for anxiety and whatnot.” Harry nods at that. “What about alcohol? You’re twenty-six, you must enjoy a drink after a long day.”

“A glass of red once in a while, sure.” He nods. “But I’m not really a heavy drinker, I never have been. I’d say if anything I’m a social drinker, but you watch me carefully at a party you’ll notice that I nurse the same drink.” He smirks.

“I’m the same way. A little bit of a buzz is fun, but anything more can be a bit scary. I actually cannot remember the last time I had a real drink.” She looks off in thought.

“Well, can’t you drink now that the baby’s here?”

“And have to succumb to a pump and dump?” She scoffs. “No way, that would be a total waste. It’s torture enough to sit there while a machine sucks the milk out of my-“ She stops herself. “Sorry.” She shakes her head. “Anyways, your resume was impressive, and you were quite articulate in your cover letter. You’re the only candidate I’ve invited for an interview.”

“Really?”

“Yes.” She nods. “I really wanted someone with experience, not someone fresh out of college looking for a place to live. You’d really be okay with living here?”

“Honestly, you’d be doing me a favor. My long-term goal is to either have a daycare or pre-school of my own someday. Not having to pay rent for a while would really help me save up for that.”

“That’s an incredible goal to have, Harry.” She smiles, impressed by his ambition. “What questions do you have for me?”

“I just want to clarify, your daughter is eight months?” Jane nods. “And what’s her name?”

“Lilly.” Jane smiles.

“That’s a beautiful name.” Harry smiles. “Why exactly do you need a live-in nanny?”

“I work a lot.” She sighs. “And I’m a single mom. I want her to always have someone here that she can depend on and feel comfortable with. Sometimes my work drags me out in the middle of the night, or I have to take a phone call at an odd hour. I just want someone else here in case I can’t be if something comes up.”

“So, her father’s not in the picture?”

“No.” Her features sour a bit. “He doesn’t even know she exists to be perfectly honest with you. I found out I was pregnant after we broke up, and I decided not to tell him about her. He was a deadbeat moocher, he would have been useless.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, but thank you for telling me. May I ask, how old are you?”

“Twenty-nine, does that matter?”

“No! No, I was just more so curious. You seem pretty successful to be in a home like this. In the advert, you stated I’d be given a car as well, that’s not exactly cheap.”

“You’ll be given access to one of my cars.” She says. “I’m not giving you a car, make no mistake about that.” She smirks. “I’m an author, a successful one.” Harry tries to think if he’s ever heard of a Jane Watson before, but he’s coming up blank. “You’ve never heard of me because I have a pen name. If it’s all the same, I don’t really want to share it with you. Not yet, anyways.”

“Sure…wait…are you offering me the job?”

“Not quite. I’d like you to meet my daughter. I want to see how she interacts with you.”

“I’d love to meet Lilly.” He smiles.

“Great, before we do that, do you have more questions?”

“Yes, who’s MaryAnne? Is she, like, a maid or housekeeper?”

“No.” Jane laughs. “She’s my personal assistant. I usually answer the door myself, but pumping took a bit longer than usual.”

“When did you publish your first work?”

“When I was twenty.” She smiles. “I was still in school, and I decided just to self-publish. It took off, and a few companies reached out to me. I eventually got an agent, and the rest was history. I’m a fast writer, I’m able to churn out more projects than most people, and for whatever reason they keep becoming hits. One of the reasons I travel a lot is that a couple of my works are being turned into television shows, and working out those contracts is a lot. I want to be a part of the process to make sure the stories are told correctly.”

“That’s incredible!”

“it is.” She nods. “I never thought I’d be a television producer, but here I am. I don’t really want Lilly around all that, so there’s another reason for having a live-in nanny.”

“This may seem like a silly question, but will I have time off?”

“Oh my goodness, of course! The salary is negotiable as well. You’ll have weekends off, as well as all bank and national holidays. You’ll also earn vacation time and sick leave like at any other job. You’ll be given a benefits package as well, if you need health insurance.”

“You…you provide stuff like that?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I?”

“I’ve just never heard of a nannying job quite like this before.” He blinks. “It feels too good to be true.”

“I’m just a firm believer in compensating someone properly. I believe in investing in the people you have.”

“Right.” He swallows. He almost starting to feel like he was going to be her sugar baby or something, but he obviously knew that wasn’t the case. “You asked me about my dating life, what about yours?”

“I’m also single. Lilly is my top priority, and then comes my work. I’m completely fulfilled as is.” She stands from her desk. “Come, I’ll give you a tour of the house, and of the in-law space, and then you can meet Lilly.”

“Okay.” He stands up and follows her out of the office.

She shows him the living room, which felt more like a study. There was an entertainment room with a huge flat screen, deluxe loungers, a pool table, and bar. She shows him to the kitchen which was equally as extravagant. She brings him upstairs to show him all of the bedrooms.

“This is Lilly’s room.” Jane says proudly.

“it’s beautiful, I love the light purple.”

“So do I.” She says. “My room is down the hall, don’t think you need a tour of that.” She laughs and they head back downstairs. “Here’s the inside entrance to the in-law, but there’s also an exterior entrance you can use…or if you have guests over.” Harry’s in awe of the space. It was larger than his apartment. “It’s a one bedroom flat essentially. There’s a full bath en suite, and there’s a half bath over there. Open concept kitchen and living area. It’s fully furnished as well. Feel free to decorate it however you like. I just ask that this space stays yours. There’s really no reason for you to bring Lilly in here, you know?”

“Sure, yeah. This is amazing.”

“I’m glad you like it. Let’s just hope Lilly like you.” Jane smirks, and they head back to the main part of the house, and into Lilly’s playroom. She was sitting with MaryAnne in a large rocking chair. “M, you can feel free to go back to your office if you like. Harry’s going to get acquainted with Lilly.”

“Of course.” MaryAnne stands up with the baby, and hands her over to Jane.

“She has an office here too?” Harry asks.

“Of course she does, and one of the guest rooms upstairs is hers to use when she needs it.” She kisses the top of her daughter’s head. “Lilly,” she coos, “I have someone I’d like you to meet.” She gestures for Harry to take her, and he happily does so.

“Hey, baby girl.” Harry coos. Bright hazel eyes look up at him in wonder. He lets her latch onto his index finger. “It’s so nice to meet you.” He looks at Jane. “She’s precious, Miss Watson.”

“Isn’t she?” Jane beams. “She’s really been enjoying her bouncy, and messing around with her blocks. I have some CD’s I like having her listen to as well. Oh! We did a paint with pudding night as a sensory play thing, it was a hoot.” She chuckles.

“Those are great, aren’t they? Very stimulating, and it teaches the child that sometimes messes are okay.” He looks down at Lilly and smiles. “May I sit with her in the rocking chair?”

“Please!” She gestures to it, and she sits down on the loveseat in the room. Harry sits down with Lilly, cradling her carefully. He adjusts her so she’s able to stand on his lap. She bounces herself and giggles. “Look at that!” Jane exclaims. “I love it when she does that.”

“She’s awfully sweet.” Harry smiles, and then he looks at Jane. “How much do you feed her?”

“I give her roughly twenty-four to thirty-two ounces a day. You’ll know how hungry she is or isn’t in the moment. I’ve started giving her pureed butternut squash, mashed bananas and strawberries, she’s got that puffed baby cereal as well. I’ve also started giving her ground chicken in really small doses just to get her some protein, but right now I’ve mostly been sticking to fruits and veggies. You must know a lot about what foods to give a baby?”

“I do.” He nods. “You’re still producing that much milk to give her daily?”

“I’ve almost been wishing I’d dry up. I get so sore somedays.” Jane sighs. “But I figure it’s good for her to have it while I can still make it. I’m not opposed to formular or anything…but I like bonding with her in that way. I got rid of her baby acne by rubbing my nipple on her skin, it was like magic.”

“It’s certainly a trick of the trade.” He smirks at her. “I remember learning that in one of my courses, and I was amazed. You all are super humans.”

Jane watches Harry play on the ground with Lilly for a bit. Harry was already so wonderful with her. Harry starts to smell something, and so does Jane.

“Think it’s time for a diaper change.” He chuckles and picks her up. “Would you like me to change her?”

“Yeah, I’d like to see you do it.”

He brings Lilly over to the changing table, and lays her down.

“I know you’re all warm and cozy, but I need to disrupt that for a moment.” He says to the baby girl who was babbling and blowing little spit bubbles, totally unbothered. Harry unsnaps her onesie, and lifts her legs to detach the diaper. His eyes widen at the type of diaper that’s on her. “You cloth diaper?” He looks at Jane.

“It’s better for the environment.” She shrugs. “There’s a trashcan for the…um, poop, and there’s another can for the diapers. I give her a regular diaper for bedtime just because it’s easier to change her in the middle of the night and in the morning, but daytime I use the cloth diapers.”

“Makes sense to me.” Harry disposes of everything, and grabs a few wipes to clean Lilly up. She took a powerful stinky.

“I blame it on the pureed peas.” Jane laughs.

“It doesn’t even phase me anymore, honestly.” Harry says as he gets a little baby powder on her. He grabs a spare cloth diaper, and gets it on her. He snaps her onesie back together and lifts her up. “There we go, good as new, darling girl.” Lilly blows some bubbles at Harry, and blows some back, making her giggle. Jane beams at the two of them.

“It’s about time for her afternoon nap. Would you like to put her down?”

“I’d love to.”

Harry carries Lilly upstairs with Jane. She flips on Lilly’s white noise machine, and makes sure her favorite blankies are in the crib. Harry sits down in the large chair in the corner of the room and starts to rock her gently, giving her soothing rubs. Jane watches as Lilly’s eyelids start to droop. She fights it at first, but Harry continues to soothe her until she’s out like a light. He carefully stands up and sets her down into her crib. The two back out of the room quietly, and make their way down the stairs.

“Let’s go back to my office.” Jane says, and Harry follows her there. Once they’re both seated, she starts speaking again. “Well, the job is yours if you want it.”

“Really?” Harry felt every worry from his life leave his body.

“Yes.” She chuckles. “You’ve really impressed me, and I think Lilly’s quite taken with you already. I’d love to have you as her nanny.” She takes out a few forms. “May I have your references? The background check will take about a week. How soon could you start after that?”

“Right away, honestly.” He hands her a sheet with his references.

“Here are the tax forms you’ll need to fill out, a form for direct deposit, and some information on your benefits. You can get everything back to me by the end of next week.”

“I can’t thank you enough for this opportunity, I’m so excited. I can’t wait to get started, Miss Watson.” He stands to shake her hand, and she stands as she takes it.

“Please, you can call me Jane.”

[elizabeethan]

Steal Away: 2 / 5

When a bank robbery with his brother goes horribly wrong, Killian Jones learns to heal with the help of a fiery blonde who happened to get caught in the crosshairs.

A Modern AU

Based loosely on the movie Hell Or High Water (and so I tag @captainswanmoviemarathon)

Read on Ao3

Read The Rest

Read my Other Stuff

A/N: So this was supposed to be a one shot, but it’s, like, 24k words so I thought it would be best to split it up. I’m probably going to post one part a night for the next week or so, though.

This part is rated T as well, mostly for language and car sickness :) (I’ll let you know when we get to M hehehe)

thank you as usual to @the-darkdragonfly​, @donteattheappleshook​ and @xhookswenchx for letting me ramble about this for weeks, and to Kay for beta-ing <3

~~~~ 

It happens quickly. 

 Her sense of humor, her taste in music, the adorable way she snorts when he hits a pothole while she’s sleeping… it’s impossible for him to avoid the feelings that stir in him. It’s almost embarrassing, the speed at which he begins to recognize his feelings, but it’s not as if he plans on sharing them at any point. 

 The fact is… he likes her. She’s cute, and funny, and undeniably sexy, and he knows that if she wasn’t here, he probably wouldn’t be either. He would’ve been arrested right off the bat, or shot in the bank himself, or drowning in a bottle of rum beside his brother’s grave. If it wasn’t for Emma Swan and her insistence to stay in his life, he wouldn’t be on his way to Maine to pick up the only remaining person in his life who means something.  

 Although, perhaps that isn’t true, because after a day on the road, he’s discovered that she’s starting to mean something, too. 

 He doesn’t know enough about her to dignify a crush, but he also isn’t stupid. He knows that he’s infatuated with her. He knows that he’s finding it hard to keep his gaze off of her. He knows that her stunning green eyes play off of the gold of her skin and her hair in such a way that makes his heart race. He knows that, based solely on what she’s told him so far, he’s desperate to know more. 

 She doesn't have a family. She spent much of her childhood homeless and running away from abusive foster placements. She was abandoned as an infant, left in the woods at only a few hours old. She’s been through hell and back, and she still manages a blinding smile.

 Her ex boyfriend is the reason she’s here with him, he thinks. She says that he screwed her over and that she wants nothing more than to get away from him and from the place that reminds her of him, and Killian thinks this all happened at a rather convenient time for her. She told him yesterday, when he was panicking over his brother’s demise, that she could tell that he was there in that bank for a good reason, and he’s taken to assuming that she has a good reason to assume that. 

 They hardly know each other, and yet he feels as though he’s known her his whole life. He knows so little about her, and yet, he can read her like she’s an open book. The term kindred spirits feels naive, and yet, that’s exactly what they are. 

 “Are we gonna stop in Chicago?” she asks excitedly as she watches the Welcome to Illinois sign pass them by. 

 “Definitely not,” he laughs. “It’s far too north for where we’re headed.” 

 “What, and Maine isn’t?” she snorts, shaking her head and pointing out a bird that flies by. “What’s up there, anyway?” 

Immediately, his heart starts racing and his palms start sweating at the thought of telling her the true reason for their trip. It dawns on him that, when they arrive, he would have to tell her anyway, lest he abandon her in town before he arrives at the lawyer’s office. 

 Of course, Emma has experienced her fair share of abandonment at this point in her life, and while he hardly knows her and shouldn’t care, he wouldn’t dare contribute to the trauma that comes with the feeling of being left behind and forgotten. 

 Bloody hell. 

 “You don’t have to tell me,” she says after a long moment of silence. 

 He clears his throat, drawing his focus back to the highway before him. “It’s alright, love. I just… it’s a sore subject, I suppose.” 

 “We share a lot of those,” she jokes, smirking at him and making his heart race. More gently, she reasons, “which means you should know by now that I won’t judge you.” 

 “Aye,” he agrees immediately, because he does know that. “Aye, you’re right. It’s, um… my child.” 

 He catches her balking, her jaw dropping and then snapping shut in quick succession before he needs to focus back on the road. “You have a kid?” 

 With a nod, his grip on the steering wheel tightens. This vehicle is better than the last, the clutch not sticking like the one in the truck had, but it’s so small and cramped that he doubts they’ll be able to sleep comfortably in these seats tonight. He’d best pull over soon so that they can find a place to sleep. “I do,” he confirms. “A daughter. She’s eight.” 

 “How old are you?” she asks in shock. 

 He narrows his eyes, shifting his gaze to her briefly and suspiciously asking, “how old are you?”

 “I asked you first,” she says seriously, as if she truly doesn't want to disclose her age, and he begins to panic. She looks old enough, but the potential that he’s just kidnapped a minor on top of everything else begins to assault his thoughts. 

 “Please just tell me I didn’t kidnap you,” he begs, his heart racing. 

 “No,” she rolls her eyes. “I’m 23, and much more mature than you.” 

 With a sound that’s somewhere between a snort and a sigh of relief, he nods. “Aye, love. I’m sure you are.”

 She sits in silence, staring at him expectantly, and he knows that it drives her mad when he smirks and begins to laugh. “Don’t be stupid! Just tell me how old you are!” 

 “I’m… I’m 31.”

 “Oh,” she says, chuckling beside him. “So you’re not that much of a cradle robber. Just a regular old bank robber.” 

 “Oy!” he shouts in offense, staring at her in shock. “Sensitive subject. And what makes you think I’m trying to rob your... cradle?”

 She snorts and shakes her head. “Please. I saw the way you were staring at my ass at that last rest stop.” 

 She could’ve chosen a more opportune time to say that, perhaps when he wasn’t taking a sip of coffee. It’s rather uncomfortable coming up his nose. “Love,” he says through a cough. “I’m not— that is, I meant not to—”

 “It’s fine, Killian,” she tells him, giggling softly and playfully. “A girl likes to feel flattered, especially a girl who feels like a—”

 Her jaw snaps shut and her eyes grow wide, the emerald catching the rays of the sun and throwing glints of gold. “Like a what, darling?”

 “Like… um, like I could eat everything on the menu at McDonalds. Is it time to stop yet?”

 “No,” he laughs, although he finds that he struggles to say no to her and mean it, even after such little time, and he indicates his intent to change lanes and moves towards an exit. “We only stopped for breakfast a few hours ago.”

 “Well, I’m starving,” she tells him, shooting him a soft smile. “And if I don’t stretch my legs in a minute, they’re gonna fall off.” 

 “You need to stretch your legs? Your feet are currently on top of my dashboard. Is that not enough of a stretch?”

 “Your dashboard? I’m pretty sure I witnessed you stealing this car.”

 “From a scrapyard,” he mumbles, giving her a shy smile as he exits the highway. “What do you want for lunch? Or should I say brunch? It’s barely eleven.”

 “We crossed time zones, you ass.”

 “What do you want?” he laughs. 

 She hums playfully, pretending to ponder his question seriously and says, “a prime rib, cooked medium rare, with a side of garlic mashed potatoes. Caramelized onion and mushroom sauce on the steak. And some green beans, for balance.” 

 Shaking his head and laughing along with her, he says, “chicken nuggets and fries it is, darling.”

 ~~~~

 “You need to pull over,” she says suddenly, breaking almost an hour of silence between them during which he was certain she was asleep. After their early lunch, he decided to keep driving, anticipating that she would take over in a few hours. 

 “Emma,” he sighs, “we only just stopped two hours ago.”

 “I’m not asking,” she demands. “I’m telling you that if you don’t pull over,” she puts her hand over her mouth, her retching and gagging preventing her from saying anything more. 

 “Jesus,” he mumbles as he pulls into the breakdown lane, barely stopped and still in gear when she thrusts the door open and loses her lunch all over the ground. He can’t ask her if she’s alright because she hasn’t stopped vomiting, so he checks his side mirror and opens his door, walking around the front of the car to meet her. He stands behind the door and places his hand in her hair, massaging her scalp as she shudders violently. “I didn’t realize you were prone to car sickness.” 

 She groans, shaking her head and resting it against the window at her side. “I think your driving has gotten worse.”

 He hums, continuing his ministrations on her scalp as she catches her breath. “Was it the chicken, love? I knew that stuff was crap.”

 “No, it’s your crap driving.”

 “Do you want to take over, then?”

 “No, I want to sleep.”

 “Come on out and get some fresh air, would you?” She whimpers as he pulls the door open a bit more, and he takes her hand to help her out and around her sick. “It’s alright, love, come here.”

 She breathes deeply as she stands, and only remains in front of him for a moment before she falls forward against his chest and into his arms. “Sorry,” she whispers into his sweatshirts wrapping her arms around his waist and holding herself close to him. “For delaying the trip.”

 “You needn’t worry about that, love,” he soothes, and he focuses on moving his hands along her back and hair in the same way she had his. “A few moments while you find your bearings won’t hurt. Are you alright?”

 She nods against him, a sound coming from her throat that makes him squeeze her tighter. He can’t stop himself from pressing a kiss to the crown of her head, the need to comfort her interrupting any reasonable thoughts in his head. She whispers, “yeah,” so softly that he kisses her again. 

 “During lunch I found a small campground that takes cash. It’s only another few hours; can you make it that far? We can use the tent and the camping mat instead of sleeping in the car.”

 “Luxurious,” she jokes softly, maintaining her firm embrace around his middle. “That sounds perfect.”

 ~~~~

 She’s relentless in her jokes at his expense as he struggles with the tent. It’s dusk, and there’s a decent canopy of trees above him, and, as she points out often, he’s getting old. He struggles to see the small pieces and determine what goes where, and she’s hardly any help as she sits in the car laughing at him as she claims to be recovering from another spell of car sickness. 

 “You could try helping me, you know,” he finally mumbles as the structure collapses again and he’s met with her symphonic laughter. 

 “Need a newer pair of eyes, Captain?” she asks in good humor, standing and bounding towards him confidently. It’s almost miraculous how quickly she’s recovered, and yet her nausea seems to keep coming back. 

 “Very funny, love. Come and tell me where E connects to G.”

 It’s impossible to ignore the way the full moon shines against her hair, almost white in the dim light of the night sky. The gentle waves flow freely as she releases the tie from around her locks, rubbing her palms over her face as she settles into the warm cocoon of the sleeping bag. She gives him a soft, gentle smile as he zips the tent’s opening securely shut, taking his place upon the ground between her and the door. “Where’s yours?” she asks, gesturing down at her sleeping bag and camping mat.

 He shrugs and then nods towards her. “Someone stole it.” 

 Her eyes widen in surprised embarrassment and she asks, “this is yours? What about-- weren’t you and… I mean…” 

 Smiling as he lies down on his back, he turns his head to face her and says, “I was meant to travel alone, actually.”

 Just as he thinks she’s about to match his position and lie back herself, she stirs and begins tugging on the sleeping bag until she’s out of it. She shakes it out in front of herself to straighten it and then feels around in the dark for the zipper, pulling it around the puffy fabric until it’s fully open before her. Turning towards him, she gives him another soft smile and dramatically opens it like a parachute, draping it over the both of them. “There you go,” she says with finality. “We can share.” 

 “You don’t have to do that, love. It’s summer anyway.” 

 “We’re sleeping outside, and you're taking a second, unexpected person on your trip across the country, who also happens to frequently demand pit stops. The least I can do is share your sleeping bag with you.” 

 “Well… thank you, lass. That’s very kind of you.” 

 “I just can’t part with the mat, sorry. The ground is way too hard.”

 He laughs as he turns to his side, silently agreeing with her that the ground is mighty firm as he grimaces. “You can’t spare it for an old man with old bones?” 

 She shrugs, laughing softly as well as she rolls to her side to face him head on. “You're not that old.” 

 “So I'm only young when it suits you?” 

 “I didn’t say you were young.”

 He hasn’t laughed this much in years. Before he met her, he hadn’t been so close to a woman in almost a decade. He’s forgotten how soothing the gentle touch of another can be, and he’s been hard pressed to ignore how especially soothing she is, in particular. “You do have quite the sense of humor, love.” 

 “All in good fun,” she smiles. He catches her gaze shooting down at the hem of the old sleeping bag, her fingers fiddling with some thread that has pulled away from its place. “Will you tell me something?” she asks in a whisper. 

 “What is it?” 

 She clears her throat nervously, continuing to avert her eyes from his, and asks, “will you tell me about your daughter?” 

 With a hum and a sad smile, he bites his bottom lip and nods, the memories of his love flooding back into his mind, as if he’s ever been able to prevent them. “Alice,” he says. “She’s just turned eight a few months ago. I missed her birthday.” 

 “Why? What happened?” 

 He notes the way that her fingers continue to play at the loose threads, and he matches her actions just beside her. “I was with my mother; she was dying and had no one else while Liam was in jail. I wanted to bring Alice with me, but… her mother wouldn’t allow it.” 

 “I’m sorry,” she says immediately. He hears a rustle against the mat her head lies on and lifts his own gaze to meet hers. 

 “Thank you.” 

 “When did you see her last, then?” 

 He gulps over the lump in his throat. “It’s been well over a year.”

 She sighs, and he doesn’t think he imagines the minute amount of space that she closes between them. “You must miss her terribly.”

 “Aye, I do. Everyday.”

 “Is there… I mean, is there a reason it’s been so long? I’m not trying to judge you, I’m sorry, I just—“

 “It’s alright, love,” he interrupts, noting the sudden shift in her demeanor as she realizes the nature of her question. “Her mother was rather… controlling, I suppose. I believe she used drugs and alcohol for much of Alice’s early life. I don’t have any reason to believe she used during her pregnancy, but I cared for Alice from birth when Eloise fell off the wagon. I even named her, after my ailing mother. But a few years later, she got clean and started to take over. She took Alice to live with her; became upset when I came around. And eventually, the way she would scream at me when I tried to visit made Alice upset, so I stopped coming around as much.” 

 She’s quiet for a moment, and he wonders if he’s taken things a bit too far. If he’s opened up to her too much. He fears this for what feels like an eternity as she lies beside him, her warm breath washing over his nose as he thinks the worst. That he’s upset her, that he’s offended her, that he’s made her think of the trauma of being abandoned herself as he describes the way he abandoned his own daughter. And his fears are confirmed when she sniffles softly before him and moves her fingers from the frayed threads to her eyes, wiping tears away. 

 “Emma,” he whispers into the darkness, “I’m sor--”

 “That’s so terrible,” she interrupts sadly, and he bows his head in shame, knowing already that his actions are deplorable. Until she whispers, “I’m so sorry.” 

 “Sorry… for what?” he asks in shock, speaking almost at full volume, a contrast to their whispering tones. 

 “You just--” she sniffs once more, “--it’s obvious how badly you want to be in your daughter’s life, and you haven’t been able to. That’s got to be the worst feeling… I can’t even imagine not being allowed to…”

 Clearing his throat, he takes a risk by reaching before himself to wipe a tear from her soft cheek with his thumb, almost desperate to comfort her as she has him the entire time he’s known her. “It’s alright, love,” he whispers. “I’m going to get her back, with your help. I wouldn’t be here, on my way to her, if it weren’t for you.” 

 She sniffles and laughs at the same time, adorably embarrassed at the sound that escapes her, and asks, “what’s changed now? With you and her mom?” 

 “She died,” he answers simply. If she had begun to relax slightly into his hand, she stiffens at his words. “She relapsed, mixed drugs and alcohol… her body couldn’t handle it.” 

 “I’m sorry,” she whispers. “That must’ve been hard, too.” 

 “Not much,” he answers too quickly. She draws her brows together in question and he continues, “I’m sad for Alice; she’s lost her mother. But she never really had her much. Eloise was never a very devout mother. It always seemed like she was in it for the image, or only when it suited her. I don’t think she ever really wanted a child.” 

 Emma nods gently, the small gap between them getting smaller when a gust of wind shakes the tent and she slides closer to him. “Was she, I mean, was Alice a surprise?” 

 “Oh, aye, very much so,” he laughs softly. “El and I weren’t ever a couple, we just met at a bar and… well, we were only together once. It was sort of a low point for me.” 

 “I get that,” she nods again. “Sleeping with the wrong person, I mean. Not that… I mean, not that Alice was a mistake or anything, of course.” 

 “I know what you mean,” he consoles in a whisper as she again worries that she’s offended him. She should know that she couldn’t possibly say the wrong thing, because despite how short of a time he’s known her, he knows that she can do no wrong in his eyes. 

 “Will you tell me about her? Like… What was it like when she was a baby? Was it very hard?” 

 He hums and nods, agreeing, “it was hard, yes; I was mostly alone. But it was so worth it.” 

 “It was?” she asks softly, almost insecurely and making him narrow his eyes in thought. 

 She hasn’t told him anything, but he isn’t a fool. He means every word of what he says to her next, and says it in hopes that he can give her solace. “Aye. As hard as life has been, I wouldn't change anything because it’s how I got Alice.” 

 In a move that surprises him almost as much as it doesn’t, she moves as close to him as she can and tucks her head into his chest, just below his chin, and wraps her arm around his waist. “That’s a good point,” she murmurs into his sweatshirt.

 “Are you alright, love?” he asks, accepting her into his embrace and letting his hand run along the length of her spine over her own sweatshirt. He reminds himself that he doesn’t truly know her, so he can’t assume that this isn’t like her, but it feels profound. 

 She nods against his chest, pulling herself impossibly closer as she seems to seek more warmth and a firmer embrace. “It’s weird,” she starts, her voice muffled. “I barely know you, but it feels like you're my friend.” 

 “I am your friend,” he agrees with a smile. “And you’re mine. I told you I wouldn’t be here without you.” 

 “I wouldn’t either.” 

 “Of course not. I’ve been driving most of the way.” 

 She snorts, nuzzling her nose into the crook between his neck and his shoulder and squeezing around his waist. “Yeah, that’s why I’ve been puking nonstop.” 

 “Would you like to drive tomorrow, then?” he laughs. 

 “Sure.” 

 “Alright. We’ll need to leave quite early. Just another two days to go, I think.”

 “Okay,” she yawns, falling asleep in his arms feeling, he hopes, as safe as he does.

~~~~

Tagging:

@courtorderedcake​​​ @kmomof4​​​ @stahlop​​​ @klynn-stormz​​​ @laschatzi @emelizabeth88​​​ @lfh1226-linda​​​ @kday426​​​ @elisethewritingbeast @timeless-love-story​​​ @captain-emmajones​​​ @gingerpolyglot​​​ @ebcaver​​​ @ilovemesomekillianjones​​​ @teamhook @superchocovian​​​ @itsfabianadocarmo​​​ @tiganasummertree​​​ @gingerchangeling​​​ @jrob64​​​ @onceratheart18​​​ @xhookswenchx​​ @winterbaby89​​​ @swampmedusa​​​ @ultraluckycatnd​​​ @dancingnancyy​​​ @love-with-you-i-have-everything​​​ @shireness-says @snowbellewells​​​​ @hollyethecurious​​ @ouatpost @daxx04​​​ @the-darkdragonfly @donteattheappleshook​​​​ @therooksshiningknight @eeteeaytay​​​​ @xsajx​​ @itsfridaysomewhere​​​​ @alexa-fangirl-forever​​​​ @jonesfandomfanatic @wefoundloveunderthelight​​ @qualitycoffeethings​​ @rapunzelsghosts @spaceconveyor

[wouldpollyapprove]

Headcanon: Going Into Labor At Work

Request: If you have time, could you write some ‘going into labor at home’ headcanons for Tommy?

Requested by Anonymous

Thomas Shelby x Reader

Warnings: Language, pregnancy

A/N: This is the third headcanon I’ve done like this for the Peaky boys and at this rate I just might do one for all of them. They’re so cute and just warm my heart. Let me know if I should. I would love to do more just because I love babies and the Shelby men. Combines, they just make me all feel all warm inside. Requests are open.

Part One (Arthur) / Part Two (Finn) / Part Three (John) / Part Four (Michael)

Masterlist

You sat at your desk outside Tommy’s office, typing away at the typewriter in front of you. 

Shifting in your seat, you were grateful that Tommy had purchased you a cushioned one as the wooden chair you used to have had become uncomfortable.

You loved how Tommy fussed over you once you had become pregnant, his actions spoke to how he’d be once the child was born. It was great, but working for your husband at the same time wasn’t.

Long before the two of you had even married, you had started working for Tommy. At first you worked at his pub and managed the place well enough that he asked you to help manage his family’s business. Your position as his secretary hadn’t changed since then and you didn’t want it to. The job allowed you to do something besides sit in your large house all day.

But as your pregnancy furthered, the job felt more like prison.

Tommy wanted nothing more than to keep you safe, but sometimes it felt suffocating.

He’d made it clear that he wanted you by his side once you started showing. No matter how much you argued about it, his stance never wavered. 

So, there you sat, at your desk, wishing you could visit the market to get a few things that were needed in the office. But your loving husband had left his office door open and, from where he sat at his desk, watched you with eagle eyes.

Typing up the report in front of you, you inhaled sharply when a wave of pain washed over you. It left seconds later, making you think nothing more of it. You’d had pains like that before, but they always faded and never came back, Polly had told you they were normal, so you thought nothing of them. 

But the pain couldn’t be ignored when you felt what could only be described as a “plop” and liquid wet the material between your legs. Closing you eyes, you cursed to yourself. You had never planned to go into labor at the office.

Your ideal place would have been at home or at Polly’s home. Somewhere you felt completely comfortable and safe. But you likely wouldn’t get that, not when your mother always delivered her children within an hour of going into labor. 

Letting out a sigh, you pushed your chair way from the desk and slowly stood on your feet. An arm cradling your swollen belly, you waddled over to your husband.

Eyes trained on the paperwork in front of him, Tommy didn’t notice your presence until you came to stand beside him. Turning from his work, his eyes softened when they landed on your face. “What is it, love?”

“My water broke.”

That simple statement caused the man to jumped to his feet. Planting a gentle kiss to your lips, he mumbled, “Let’s get you home.” Before grabbing his and your, Tommy called Polly and told her to meet the two of you at the house. “Alright, love, let’s go.” He ushered you out of the office and to the car.

Once in the car, Tommy wasted no time to get you home. 

You laid your head on his shoulder, squeezing his arm like he instructed when a contraction hit you. “You’re doing beautifully, love,” he kissed the top of your head, keeping his eyes on the road. 

Tommy could tell there was a small chance you’d make it home before the baby was born when your grip became tighter and it rarely eased up.

His suspicions were confirmed when you told him, “The baby’s coming now.”

Your husband knew nothing of childbirth, but he knew how human instinct work and knew that when you knew, you knew. Pulling over, Tommy shut the car off, “Come on, Y/n, let’s get you comfortable.”

He helped guide you into a more comfortable position, a laugh escaping your lips at the idea of Tommy delivering a baby. “If this goes well, people will start calling you Midwife, instead of mister.”

Tommy leaned over and cupped your cheek, kissing your lips, he said, “There is no ‘if’, dear. You will do just fine, I know you will.”

Not even five minutes later, you were in active later, your husband coaching you through your contractions. For the most part, he let your body tell you what do, encouraging you along the way.

Sweat dripped down your forehead, pain blinding your exhaustion. You didn’t know how long you had been there and you honestly weren’t sure how much you cared. Tommy looked up at you with a smile after the end of a contraction, “The head is out, love. Just a few more pushes and we’ll have our little baby.”

And he wasn’t wrong.

A few more pushed later, Tommy wrapped your little boy in his jacket that he had shedded long ago. Handing the child over to you, he kissed you lips, mumbling, “You fucking did it, love. You fucking id it.”

Tommy moved so you could lean on him, allowing the both of you to gaze down at the new addition to your family. “He looks just like,” you told your husband, gently rubbing your index finger over the infants cheek.

“He had his mother’s eyes, though,” he informed you. “What would you like to name him?” His breath tickled your ear. 

You thought for a second. The two of you hadn’t spent much time thinking about names. Tommy thought you would go crazy thinking about names for you baby but you simply shrugged it off. You told him that it would simply come to you.

“James.” You smiled down at the infant.

Tommy nodded, giving over a finger for his son to grasp. “James Shelby.”

About 20 minutes later, you pulled up in front of the house. Tommy opened the door for you and the two of you walked into the parlor to find Polly and Ada waiting as patiently as they could. Polly put out her cigarette and pushed herself off the sofa when you entered the room. “Oh, how precious,” she cooed, coming over to have a look at the child. 

Ada stood as well. “Did you deliver the baby?” she looked over at her brother before her attention turned back to her new nephew. 

“Yes, he did,” you answered for him. “Clearly, he’s coming for you job, Polly.” That earned a laugh from the two women and a smile from your husband.

*~~*~~*

Let me know if you would like to be added to the taglist

@amirahiddleston​ @haphazardhufflepuff @woahitslucyylu @mzcrazy2 @lovemissyhoneybee @multi-fandom-iimagines @tarafaithem @jenepleurepasbaby @fernweh-fangirl

[the-panmixxia]

Logan Accidentally Steals Two (2) Children - Chapter 5; Play!

Original Link (by me!)

Rating: Gen

Characters: Logan, Remy, Virgil

Ship: (eventual) Logan x Janus

Summary: Logan Sanders is so excited to study this exciting new creature that's been discovered! The spider-like creature is very interesting, and oddly adorable.

A few weeks later, a similar situation arises when an octopus like creature is discovered.

But surely they couldn't know each other. They aren't sentient. They're not related, and they definitely don't have an overprotective (and oddly attractive) snake parent looking for them. Nope, definitely not.

(or, how Logan became part of a monster family)

Warnings: Spider, accidental kidnapping, laboratory

(fic is not in this font)

By the time midday rolled around, Logan had somewhat recovered from the surprise of the critter's cute habits, though that's not to say he stopped giving it scratches every so often just to watch its reactions. He was excited to move onto their plans to try and engage the little one, and thankfully he'd remembered the toys he'd packed - though probably only as he'd put them in his car last night.

The box contained some of Roman's old toys, sanitised, obviously, and carefully checked to make sure it couldn't pull anything off that it could then try to eat. He'd also packed a few basic enrichments - a ball, some toilet roll tubes, paper straws.

They'd allowed the creature free roam of the table, trusting its docility - and the security of the locked door and windows. It seemed to appreciate just standing near either scientist as they worked, occasionally coming closer to sit next to them. Remy was skimming lab results as Logan set up some coloured blocks,

"He's a baby"

Logan glanced up, quirking a brow. He wholeheartedly expected Remy to be discussing one of his many crushes posting something on social media, but the students attention was still on the files before him.

"What do you mean? Who's a baby?"

Remy pointed his pen at the creature, who chittered and began inspecting the clicking mechanism. Logan blinked slowly, watching the creature.

"The blood and DNA tests. It's a male and the protein count indicates it's still an infant."

Logan still couldn't articulate a response, staring at the creature blankly as it played with Remy's pen, batting at it and chittering as Remy slowly moved it back and forth. It certainly made sense, how easily he was able to warm up to the two dedicated to its care, its habit of mimicking simple gestures, and how it took most every opportunity to try and engage them in play. Yet a part of him couldn't help but fret - were they going to be able to provide everything it needs? They had no idea what its parents would've taught it behaviour wise, undoubtedly its young life was going to be impacted severely by captivity. Where were the parents? Given they're apparent level of intelligence, were they mourning? Searching? -

"Wait does that mean this creature is gonna get bigger??"

Logan glanced at Remy and smiled sheepishly. It certainly seemed so. Remy gave an exasperated sigh and flopped back in his seat. The creature watched him, before trying to mimic, throwing himself back and trilling in delight. Cute.

" Well, no matter how big it gets, it'll be our responsibility to accommodate. But for now, we have work to be doing"

With that, Logan pulled out a rattle - gave it a shake to demonstrate what it was, and then placed it in front of the creature.

It immediately scuttled towards it, smacking at the top of the rattle with much more force than expected. As the rattle rolled in a circle, the beads inside made a noise similar to rainpour, which is what the creature seemed to have been going for as it chittered excitably the then crouched, staring at the now still rattle. After a few moments, it vocalised a damn near perfect imitation of the rattle sound, before looking up at Logan and wiggling slightly. He felt the urge to reward the little creature, smiling and giving it a scratch.

"Well, it definitely enjoys mimicking things."

Remy smirked at that, flicking the rattle to make a noise, which the creature instantly copied.

"I could've told you that, girl"

Logan smiled softly, scribbling down notes "We'll have to test the capacity of its mimicking abilities at a later date, for now let's see how it responds to….. These"

He gently placed down three blocks, the primary colours, onto the table. The creature meandered over, tilting its whole body sideways in curiosity before tapping at the yellow block. It used all its limbs to scale onto the block, legs tucked in awkwardly as it squeaked and dithered its carapace to rattle. A few moments of observation told them it wasn't planning to do anything beyond standing on the block looking pleased with itself.

"Well the creature seems to enjoy… Climbing, I suppose. We aren't really finding anything new out."

Remy hummed absently, training his phone camera on the creature. Logan trusted him enough to not share any images or videos, but the student often thought he didn't notice him snapping pictures of the creature being utterly endearing.

The creature was so far staring at Logan, but decided to follow his eye line and noticed Remy, stumbling slightly off the block as it made its way over. It was rather interested in Remy's phone, brushing a pedipalp over the back case while chirping. It then moved around to the other side, Remy seemingly too stunned to move it, to inspect the digital screen. Logan had an idea,

"Remy, could you download an application for infants to engage with? Perhaps it will interact with that"

Remy rolled his eyes but was already pulling up the game store, mumbling "Sure, yeah, just use all my data like it's nothing. Us college kids are notorious for having buckets of cash"

Remy flipped his screen round to show the creature, displaying an application. He tapped it to demonstrate - a fairly simple app, tap the colour and a soothing feminine voice said that colour aloud - before allowing the creature to approach. The creature reached up with a pedipalp, tapping gently on green.

"Green. Yellow. Purple. Green. Yellow. Purple. Green. Yellow. Purple. Green -"

The creature continued its very deliberate pattern, never one straying from the three colours. It wasn't even like the colours where near each other - it was clearly indicating these colours in particular, and Logan had no idea why.

" What does that mean, little one? Are you - no, you can't actually be communicating… no, no. Try the Alphabet, if you would please, Remy?"

Remy hummed, switching from colours to letters "Just letting you know if it spells out REDRUM I'm tossing it towards you to buy me some time to escape"

Logan rolled his eyes and simply observed. Yet again the creature strolled up without a care, and seemed to know which buttons to press.

"V. R. J. V. V. V R J. V R J."

Once more the creature had chosen three components, the letter V, the letter R, and the letter J. But why?

It could, of course, be entirely coincidental. It simply liked the colours, or the shape of the letter so it pressed them - and perhaps he was digging for proof of intelligence due to his own fondness for the creature, but he couldn't help but feel there was intent behind what it was doing.

"The lil baby creature is pretty weird, huh?"

Remy had his gaze soley focused on Logan, holding his phone still in one hand as the creature inputted the same three letters over and over.

"Yes, well, I'm not entirely sure what -" Logan was cut off by loud vibrating, this time not caused by the creature, and Remy's phone blasting out his ring tone.

The creature was startled enough so when the screen changed to the caller's ID image - a zoomed in, grinning Professor Picani - it was no surprise it entered fight mode. Before Remy could even think to move the phone, the creature was hissing furiously, spitting its corrosive black spit across the screen, instantly causing the screen to glitch out. To make matters worse, it let up the sharp barbs across its legs, squalling like an animal in heat before swiping furiously, rising to its back legs to use more limbs in the fight.

Remy pulled the phone back, frowning with a look of genuine disappointment. The phone was quite evidently beyond repair, and even as he pulled it out the way, the creature was throwing out all kinds of aggression signs.

"Remy, I'm truly sorry -"

Remy cut him off with a long sigh, "It's whatever, girl. I'll go see what Emile wanted on a different phone. They're out on the field right now, they wouldn't call me if it wasn't important."

He tucked his destroyed phone into his jacket pocket before standing. The creature scurried away as Remy rose, stopping dead in front of Logan with a long croak. Logan very carefully began petting it, managing to smooth it's barbs down gently as it began chirping and crooning, moving into Logan's arms with a chitter. When Logan allowed it to crawl into the crook of his arm, the creature began purring, pulling its limbs into itself while leaning up to nuzzle the fingers petting it. Though Logan was rather concerned that his apprentice was more hurt than he was letting on, he couldn't move the creature was surely close to sleep now.

After around twenty minuets, it was definitely asleep, chittering its carapace soothingly. Logan found himself cradling it slightly, unabashedly endeared.

When Remy came through the door, he looked rather shocked, holding a cordless landline phone he'd assumably called Emile on.

"The… Research team was trying to find another," he pointed vaguely at the bundle in Logan's arms, clearly deciding a comment wouldn't be worth his time

"but they found another… Thing. And they're bringing it here."

[avengerscompound]

Bartoned - Chapter 31

Bartoned - A Hawkeye Fanfic

Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Buy me a ☕ Rating:  E

Warnings:  Nothing really

Pairing: Clint Barton x F!Reader

Word Count:  1667

Summary:  Clint’s name has become synonymous with fucking things up.  When you have a one night stand with him, your whole life gets Bartoned.

A/N:  Thank you for @mumbles411​ for your help with this chapter

Chapter 31

The wedding of Kari and Wanda seemed to rush up on everyone suddenly.  It was weird how things like that could happen.  It would seem like there was an eon before a big event and then it arrived and you couldn’t believe how fast the time had gone.

You had been so busy though, with work, helping Kari with her wedding preparations, planning your own wedding, the two bachelorette parties, and parenting, there was never a moment of your time not occupied by something.  By the time the wedding actually arrived you felt exhausted and worn a little thin.

Though the excitement radiated off Kari and Wanda.  The ceremony was relatively small and being held in Central Park at the Cop Cot under the natural gazebo.  Wanda was getting ready with Natasha, Carol, and a few of the other female Avengers who she was close with in the apartment she shared with Kari, while Kari was in your apartment with you and her mother while Clint got ready and kept Nattie out of the way.  She was nine-months-old now and had started self-weaning from breastfeeding, and while she couldn’t walk alone she was very into cruising along, holding herself up on the couch or coffee table, or better yet, holding her daddy’s hand.

A photographer had been taking photos of Kari getting ready too but everything seemed to be done now.  Hair was set.  Makeup was done.  Dresses had been smoothed over and double-checked.

“Alright.  I think… I think I’m about to become someone’s wife,” Kari said, looking around to see if she missed anything.

You handed her her bouquet of red and white wildflowers.  “FRIDAY can you let Bucky know we’re heading to the car.  And tell Wanda we’re heading out?”  You said.

“Of course, miss,” the A.I. replied.

You kissed Clint and Nattie goodbye and headed down to the cars where Bucky was waiting.  You, Bucky, Kari, and her mother all climbed into the back of a limo and it pulled out into the busy midtown street.

“So you’re the one who’s acting as Kari’s father?”  Kari’s mother asked.

“That’s right.  You can call me, Bucky,” Bucky said, offering her his hand.

“I’m Conny,” she replied, shaking it.  “Funny, you don’t look old enough to be her father.”

“I assure you, I am,” Bucky joked.

“You would have been in Europe around the time she was conceived, weren’t you Buck?  Any trips to Denmark?”  You asked.

Bucky chuckled while Kari glared daggers at you.  “No.  You cut that out.”

“It’s possible.  I was sent all over the place,” Bucky replied.

“Oh god,” Kari groaned.  “I should have asked Tony after all.”

The car pulled up at the gates of the park, and the few security that had been hired moved in quickly to help get you all to the venue without a problem.  You could hear the group gathered up on top of the hill from where you all waited in the closed-off marque.

When Wanda and her group arrived you heard them talking as they moved into their own one.  The celebrant came to collect us as Bucky fixed his kippah to his head and went through the instructions about when each of us should go.

She left and a moment later a four-string quartet started up, letting us know she was making her way down the aisle.

“See you down there,” you said, kissing Kari on the cheek and heading out of the tent.

Natasha was waiting for you looking stunning in her cocktail dress, with its scoop cut neckline and flared-a-line skirt that reached just below her knees.  While the style was completely different to your floor-length empire cut dress, the red matched exactly.

The two of you walked up the path to the large gazebo on top of the hill surrounded by a thick cluster of trees.  The music changed and you and Natasha walked arm in arm down the aisle, splitting up when you reached the chuppah and you each moved to either side of the small canopy.  The cloth that covered it was red and white and it was decorated with wildflowers.

The music changed again and everyone stood.  Kari began walking down the aisle, flanked on either side by Bucky and her mother, their arms linked.   When they reached the chuppah, Conny lifted Kari’s veil off her face and kissed her cheeks before both she and Bucky moved to stand beside you and she stepped up in front of the celebrant.

Once again the music changed and the crowd all turned to look again.  Kari looked up excitedly and Wanda stepped through the entrance of the Gazebo.  She looked like a queen.  She wore a ball gown dress with a small train.  Red jewels were sewn up the skirt in such a way that every step looked like she was walking through fire.  The corseted bust was pulled tight with red ribbon, and on her head, she wore an elaborate diadem that almost looked like it formed two horns.  It was heavily jeweled with a large red jewel on her forehead.  Her veil was sewn into it and covered her face but even through it, you could see how her eyes were painted with a smokey eyeliner and even more clear was the huge smile on her dark red lips.

Clint looked just as proud as any father would.  He walked on her right, while Steve walked on her left.  When they reached the chuppah, Clint lifted Wanda’s veil and kissed her cheek, and then moved over next to Natasha.  Steve kissed Wanda too and when he was in place, Wanda and Kari circled each other.  When they finally moved into position the ceremony started.

It was a long but beautiful ceremony that blended in a few things from Wanda’s Jewish and Romani heritage - including stepping on a glass and jumping the broom.  The one thing that was constant throughout was how Wanda and Kari couldn’t stop looking at each other like one of them had hung the stars and the other had hung the moon.  They were so very in love and that whole feeling looked so alien to you.  When they finally walked back down the aisle and everyone followed after, the caterers swooped in and began to rearrange the area for the reception.   You and Clint found each other outside while the photos started.

“That was a beautiful ceremony,” you said, leaning against Clint as he wrapped his arm around your waist.

“Yeah, it was.  They looked so happy too,” Clint agreed.

“I don’t want ours to be anything like that,” you added.

“Fuck no,” Clint said quickly and you both started laughing.  “Like ten minutes.  I do - I do, get out.”

You leaned in and cradled his jaw as you looked into his blue eyes.  “I love you,” you giggled.

“Yeah, yeah.  Who can blame you?”  He teased and brought his lips to yours.

When you pulled back you were dragged into a few group shots and you stood around trying not to look too awkward as they rearranged everyone again and again.  When you finally were let go so that Kari and Wanda could go take photos around the park you made your way back to Clint again and inside the gazebo where they were serving canapes that this time mixed Wanda’s heritage and Kari’s Danish roots.  There was dark rye bread with gravlax, stuffed cabbage, and little potato cakes with a sweet corn mayonnaise amongst them.  On a small table next to the head table was a cake made from stacked rings of marzipan.

You grabbed a flute of champagne from the first server that passed you and drained half the glass in one go.

“Woah, go easy there,” Clint said as he piled canapes onto a napkin.

“No way, this is the first night out with you I’ve had since I got pregnant that I wasn’t either pregnant or with my infant daughter.  I’m getting hammered,” you said.

“You’re still breastfeeding!”  Clint argued.  “Plus we’re still going home to her.”

“I’ll pump and dump,” you said.  “She’s not gonna care if she gets a bottle instead.  And you -” you tapped his chest “- can stay sober.”

Clint tried to stifle a laugh unsuccessfully and kissed your forehead.  “Well, here’s to the second time in my life I’m getting to see my fiance drunk.”

“Here, here!”  You cheered and drained the rest of the glass.  “You think she’s gonna be okay tonight?  There’s always been one of us there for bedtime.”

Clint shrugged.  “We’re not gonna be that late.  And Doreen has our number.  It’s not like she’s never gotten her to sleep before.”

You switched out your glasses and looked around the room.  “Tony’s chatting up Kari’s mom,” you said pointing at them with your glass.

Clint snorted.  “He’s determined to get back at Kari for not choosing him to walk her down the aisle isn’t he?”

You giggled.  “Looks like it.”

Clint leaned into you and nipped at your throat.  “It’s a pity we’re in the middle of Central Park,” he said.  “Not having Nattie with us calls for being dragged into a maintenance closet and fucking our brains out.”

“God damn it, Kari,” you cursed.  “Spoiling our fun.  You’re not even gonna be able to finger me under the table, because we’re not even sitting at the same table.”

“Well that’s just rude,” Clint agreed and shoved the last of his canapes into his mouth.

There was a clinking on glass and Steve went up to the microphone.  “Could everyone take their seats?  Wanda and Kari are nearly here.”

You huffed and nuzzled at Clint’s cheek.  “I’ll see you at the dance, I guess.  I’m going to be well drunk by then.”

“Sounds good,” he said and pecked your lips.  “Oh, one thing before you go.”

You looked at him quizzically and he brought his lips to your ear.  “We’re next,” he whispered.

// NEXT

[snracori]

It's Not Some Random Choice Believe It Or Not

It's Not Some Random Choice Believe It Or Not

I'm guessing that for you to have graco snugride snuglock 35 reviews found this page you've done one of 2 things: either you've done a lot of your own research and you're now homing in on one or two possible car seat choices; or perhaps you came across Graco Nautilus somewhere or heard about it and want to know more.

Let's face, it there's a bewildering amount of choice in the market place when it comes to baby or child car seats. If you are looking for a child car seat for the first time, it can seem quite overwhelming with the amount of choice available.

Let me explain why I've chosen to write about the Graco Nautilus over all else. Let me start by first making it clear, it's not some random choice. Believe it or not there's a significant degree of logic in my choice, which I explain below. I will then go on to explain how I go about finding the best products and the best deals for those products.

When it comes to baby or child car seats

Finding the right child car seat isn't easy. graco snugride snuglock 35 reviews Unless you have the time and the inclination to sift through literally hundreds of different makes and models, the chances are that you may end up paying more than you need to and going for a child seat that is only good for 1, perhaps 2 years, at best.Fortunately, there is an easier way to choose and this is a technique that I've used to good effective on many occasions when researching and making a choice as to what to buy. It's not rocket science really, basically all you do is a bit of homework to find out what "the people's choice" is for your target product.More often than not when you base your buying decisions on this method, you'll find that you eliminate a significant amount of choice and a lot of the grunt work, after all so many people can't be wrong. But do keep in mind the main functionality, features or benefits that you personally want out of the product that you're looking to buy and you shouldn't go wrong.

When you get good at using the internet for researching goods and services, you really can save yourself a lot of time, money and ensure that when you do make a purchase that it's a good decision. Nobody likes coming away with a purchase suffering buyer's remorse or regret.So, getting back to the point, the reason that I've chosen to review the Graco Nautilus, as opposed to another car seat, simply comes down to the fact that it's currently the most popular selling on the market today.

If you're looking for a child seat that is versatile, well-built, extremely strong, has an excellent safety test record and offers top value for your buck, its difficult to find a car seat that does all of these so well as the Graco Nautilus.and offered Good Value for Money. The fact that the Graco Nautilus was one of the few car seats that employed a 3 in 1 system, placed this seat firmly in the top 3 of the car seat market.

Using The Internet For Researching Goods 

The Graco Nautilus graco snugride snuglock 35 reviews undoubtedly  has longevity, which is pretty much unrivaled in the car seat market. The Nautilus' versatility and longevity comes from the fact that you can convert this seat to a 5-point harness high-back seat, a high back booster seat and finally a backless booster seat. Hence the name 3-in-1. In layman's speak what this means is that you can adapt the seat to meet your growing child needs.As a result, what you get with the Graco Nautilus is not just 1 or 2 years use but many years use. In fact some parents claim to have had their Graco Nautilus for up to 6 to 7 years! I think you'll agree with me, that represents a huge saving in the long-term.

Graco Nautilus also scores very highly in relation to safety. It employs steel reinforced mesh structure and the latest EPS energy-absorbing foam technology, giving it additional security, comfort and durability. Other features of the Graco Nautilus that is rated highly by customers, include adjustable headrest, 3-point recliner setting, cup holder that is big enough for a big boys water bottle, discrete storage compartment for children's play things and a machine washable seat pad.

https://topbabyseats.com/graco-snugride-snuglock-35-infant-car-seat/

[fancystarfishsuit]

ARE STROLLERS REALLY NEEDED FOR BABIES?

Babies are the sensitive little gifts that one can have. They are very subtle and precious. Babies are not only the added responsibility but also the topmost priority of the couple. To carry the baby from place to place, different people use different modes of transport. One of the best-suggested modes in such a list is the strollers. Parents always look for the best and safest strollers for their little ones. In this journey of choosing a stroller that is strong enough and capable enough is mandatory. Stroller for a baby is the most necessary equipment that parents must carry. It is necessary to carry the best stroller for their infants. Find the trending baby strollers and the best strollers for babies down below.

Coming to the trend, parents must never miss out on the trend in choosing a perfect stroller. To finalise the best stroller it is mandatory to look into a few options before buying like the trademarks, patterns and rates. Keeping all this in remembrance, here is the list of best trending baby strollers with all their features that one can pick.

TYPES OF STROLLERS:

Here are the types in the best strollers for babies:

There are mainly six types of strollers in the market. They include

Full-sized strollers

Travel system

Lightweight or umbrella strollers

Double stroller

Jogging stroller

Car seat stroller

BEST TRENDING STROLLERS FOR THE BABIES:

These are the best trending baby strollers and best strollers for babies:

GRACO MODES CLICK CONNECT:

This stroller is the best uneducable stroller and one of the best stroller brands on the list. It acquires all the Graco infants car support that sold separately to create its travel system. It contains three strollers within and, the point of a reversible stroller chair supports the baby to view the world and, the four-arranged reclining seat transforms into an infant coach for on-the-go ease. The forward-facing toddler contains three-position leg rest that sets for the developing child. Also, the toddler seat holds a detachable child's plate and armrests to support the toddler to effectively get in and out of the stroller.

2. UPPA BABY VISTA V2:

This product is the best reversible stroller and yet another best stroller for baby. The characteristic of special-spring movement gives a smooth ride on any terrain facade. The wheels are also simple related to another variety of strollers. The elongated umbrellas on the toddler fitting and thunder seat carry a zip-out material that renders a complete shade from the daylight. It also has net insets that provide to peep in while combining airflow. The essential back and lower footrest on the toddler couch give combined comfort for raising children. It attains with a sliding arm arrangement that can be stretched or released in a single motion for a specific period for nursing kids. It has a single-handed and multi-positioned recline baby bed and parent standing toddler seat. 

3. KOLCRAFT CLOUD PLUS:

This product is the twin stroller and, it is the best baby stroller for newborns and drive friendly and is the best for travelling and day journeys. It is simple to glide through any of the official doors evenly as the diameter of the stroller is only 31 lengths. It includes a three-tier elongated covering for the best UV stability and coverage. The stroller position does not rest and is conveniently smooth with a 100% protection policy. It comes with extra storage that includes one parent plate, drink racks, juice box handle and detachable child plates with twin cup handle. It also has two large storage containers that operate all baby requirements. 

4. CHICCO BRAVO:

It is the best affordable and budget-friendly and, the best lightweight stroller in India. It is a quick-fold stroller and includes a top-rated latchkey fit 30 baby car support and grants a guarded click-in accessory through the baby platter. It also has a One-hand, smart enclosure scheme that is short and attains autonomously without the pressure designation reaching the terrain. It is simple to fix as it comes with the manual and added Hook connectors, EPS energy-absorbing froth and detachable infant head & body comfort. It is suggested as the best stroller for baby.

[let-me-write-shit]

Like We Used To: 22

A/N: Make sure you read Chapter Twenty One first, otherwise this probably won’t make sense. Let me know what you think so far!!!! :)

[Click For Previous Chapters]

---------------------------------------------------

CHAPTER TWENTY TWO:

Harry and Elizabeth managed to wake themselves up earlier than they would have on a normal day, still on a high from their conversation last night. Elizabeth did her best to keep her mind off of the LA Fashion Show next weekend, focusing on the ‘here and now’. She was excited to see her niece today and take her to her first pumpkin patch. 

She double and triple checked that Harry was sure he wanted to come along, in case he was recognized, urging him to let his manager and Lisa know, just in case. After the fifth time of her asking, Harry practically shoved her into the bathroom to get ready and stop pestering him. Even though her period was practically at an end, she still felt a lingering bloatedness, so she decided to dress in black jeans and tons of baggy layers including an oversized knit sweater with a jean jacket with the sleeves cut off on top. Comfort was key. She put on minimal makeup and threw her hair in a messy ponytail.

It felt odd adjusting to the chilly UK weather after having been in LA for a week. She was beginning to miss it. When she stepped downstairs, Harry was plating some breakfast for the two of them; some pancakes and sausages.

“He sings, he cooks, he’s sweet, what a perfect man,” Elizabeth smiled, kissing Harry’s cheek, grabbing her plate and a glass of orange juice.

Harry chuckled, taking a seat next to her on the kitchen island, “Just making sure I don’t give you a reason to change your mind about dating me.”

Elizabeth shook her head, taking a sip of her drink, “I waited too long for this to back out now.”

“Does your sister know I’m coming with you?”

“Yes, I told her.”

“And does she know we’re-”

“Yes, I told her we’re dating,” she cut him off, smiling. “But she knows not to say anything.”

“I can’t believe she has a baby,” Harry remarked, swallowing a mouth full of food, “I remember when she used to have to watch us when your parents were out of town. She’s just tell us not to do anything stupid and sneak out of the house with her boyfriend.”

Elizabeth laughed, “At least we never did anything stupid.”

The hour drive to Jenny’s house went by fast. Elizabeth drove to avoid the attention on Harry’s car, and they blasted music, screaming and dancing along. Harry made fun of her forgetting the lyrics and Elizabeth made fun of his dancing. When they finally reached the driveway, Harry followed Elizabeth up the front steps as she knocked and stuck her head inside.

“Jenny?” She called out, stepping inside and tossing her bag by the door.

“In the kitchen!” she called out.

They went further into the house to see Jenny, putting dishes away while simultaneously trying to burp her daughter. She turned to watch them both come in and Jenny let out a muffled screech, quickly walking over to her younger sister to give her a hug.

“Oh my goodness, Harry!” she exclaimed, pulling away from Elizabeth and going in for a hug, “I haven’t seen you in ages, how are you?”

“Hi!” He laughed, hugging her back, “I’m great, thank you. How are you doing? Do you need help with the dishes?”

“Oh no, that’s alright, thanks. My husband will do it when he gets home.”

“How is Tom?” Elizabeth asked while smiling at the baby in her sister's arms.

“He’s just a lump on a log at night, isn’t he? Absolutely no help with Mia. Suppose he can’t do much, anyway. I’m the one that can feed her,” Jenny shrugged.

“Right, I’ve waited long enough. Give her here,” Elizabeth declared, holding her hands out for her niece.

Harry smiled, watching Elizabeth rocking Mia in her arms and let out a little laugh when Mia cooed, reaching her chubby hand up towards her Aunt’s dangling ponytail, spitting a little. “She’s beautiful,” Harry said to Jenny.

“Thank you. We’re really lucky.”

Mia kept looking in Harry’s direction. Even when Elizabeth tried to get her attention, she wouldn’t look away from him. “I think she likes you,” Elizabeth giggled, “Do you want to hold her?”

“Sure,” he nodded, reaching over to grab her. He propped her head in his elbow and swayed her as she stared up into his eyes. Harry ooed and aahhed at her, making faces and random popping noises, which made Mia’s eyes light up, kicking her feet wildly until a loud guttural giggle forced itself out.

Jenny gasped, “Are you kidding me? That was her first laugh! Hold on let me get my phone!”

She frantically looked around the kitchen for her mobile device as Harry and Elizabeth shared a quick glance of shock and awe at each other, before he turned his attention back to the infant, making more noises in an attempt to make her laugh. Sure enough, as soon as Jenny started to record on her phone, more belly laughs erupted from Mia causing the three adults to cheer, excitedly.

After a while, they decided they were ready to head over to the pumpkin patch. Elizabeth sat up front in Jenny’s car while Harry climbed in the back with the baby, entertaining her with a few toys while joining in on the conversation with the two sisters who had been catching up. The journey to the farm was only about fifteen minutes, and even though it was a Wednesday afternoon, it still had a good amount of people walking around.

Jenny unfolded the stroller and slipped her daughter inside while they made their way out of the car lot and towards the farm. Harry took Elizabeth’s hand in his, ignoring her concerned looks, and followed, heading towards the line to get on the hayride that would take them to the pumpkin field. She noticed his facial expression shift and gave him a questioning look, trying to see his eyes through his sunglasses.

“You okay?” she whispered to him.

“I think someone might have recognized me,” he hushed back, head tilting towards the back of the line.

Elizabeth discreetly looked towards the back to see a woman, a little older than them, occasionally glancing over at them with a look of nervousness while two boys around the ages of 8 and 10 ran around her. Elizabeth nodded at Harry, understandingly, and turned her attention back to her niece who played in her stroller. When it was their turn to get on the hayride, Elizabeth took Mia out of the stroller and held her while Harry carried the stroller up to the large wagon that was being pulled by the tractor. Elizabeth, Jenny, and Harry found their seats on the wagon while the rest of the guests climbed on and the tractor loudly started up, pulling them off. 

The smell of the tractor engine and the crisp autumn air gave Elizabeth a sense of nostalgia as they neared the pumpkin patch, and she smiled widely, forgetting about the people that might have been watching them, thoroughly enjoying her time. 

Once the tractor stopped in the middle of the pumpkin patch, everyone climbed off and Elizabeth bounced Mia in her arms through the rows of pumpkins, helping Jenny search. She wanted one big pumpkin and one tiny one.

“Baby, do you want to get a pumpkin, too?” Harry called out to her, making butterflies go crazy in her stomach. She wasn’t used to him calling her ‘baby’ yet. “We could carve them tonight.”

Elizabeth smiled, “Sure!”

He went off in search of the perfect pumpkins while Elizabeth walked with her sister.

“I always thought you two would end up together,” Jenny whispered, turning a pumpkin over to inspect.

Elizabeth grinned to herself, blushing lightly and looking over at him, going through a bunch of pumpkins. His hair flopped down in front of his face and his sunglasses slid down the bridge of his nose when he bent down. He was chewing on a piece of gum that made his jaw flex whenever he bit down. 

Jenny continued, “I’m happy for you. You deserve it after that douchebag of an ex.”

“I seem to remember you liking him…” Elizabeth raised an eyebrow at her sister with a telling grin.

“That was before he cheated on you,” Jenny scoffed, rolling her eyes before picking up a small pumpkin, deciding she liked it. “Besides, Harry’s much hotter.”

Elizabeth laughed, looking down at Mia who’s eyes darted all around. In a baby voice Elizabeth whispered, “He is hot, isn’t he?” shaking her little fingers.

Harry came running up with a pumpkin in each arm and a proud smile on his face, “What do you think of these bad boys, huh?” he shook them in his arms.

“They’re perfect! Thank you!” She laughed, amusing him.

Harry put the pumpkins back on the wagon and ran back to join his girlfriend, smiling at Mia. It was obvious he wanted to hold her, so Elizabeth passed the baby over to him and he happily tucked her in his arms, adjusting the blanket around her methodically so she wouldn’t get cold. Mia wrapped her chubby hand around his finger as he smiled down at her, humming a song Elizabeth couldn’t quite make out. Her heart soared seeing him interact with her niece and how great he was with children; a natural.

“I can’t wait to have one of my own,” Harry muttered, smiling down at the baby who was so enthralled with Harry that it was almost as if he was the only one there.

Elizabeth’s heart rate increased, but she quickly pushed the thoughts aside and said, “You’ll be a great dad one day.”

He smiled up at her sweetly as Jenny traipsed up with two pumpkins in hand. The three of them went back onto the hayride where a few people had returned to, and waited for the rest of the group to finish up. Jenny took a few pictures of them all on the hayride and a ton of baby Mia on the way back to the main section of the farm. 

They grabbed some lunch at a food truck that was on the property and ate while Mia fell back asleep in the stroller. 

“When was the last time you talked to mom and dad?” Jenny asked, taking a bite of her hotdog.

“Two days ago,” Elizabeth said, “told them I was going to stop by saturday night after dinner at Anne’s.”

“I’m sure they’re excited for it. Dad’s probably shitting himself. You were always the favorite,” Jenny declared. Before Elizabeth could retort, she continued, “Are you bringing Harry with you?”

Harry and Elizabeth looked at each other. She hadn’t asked him to come, she didn’t want him to feel uncomfortable. Obviously they’ve met before, but now that they were officially dating, it’s different. That suddenly got her thinking about her dinner with Anne on saturday. Did she know about them? Would that change how she felt about her? Did that make this dinner more official? She could feel herself starting to overthink again. 

“You don’t have to,” Elizabeth said to him, doing her best to sound nonchalant.

He shook his head, “But I’d like to, if that’s okay.”

Elizabeth nodded, smiling at him and they finished eating lunch. They wandered around the farm for a while, looking at all the baby goats and cows before Harry pushed the stroller back to the car and put the carrier in the back seat with him while her and Jenny jumped in the front again. By the time they got back to Jenny’s house it was nearly 4 PM. They decided that it was time to head back home, so they each gave Jenny and Mia a kiss on the cheek and little hugs before heading back to Elizabeth’s house, talking about what they were going to carve in the pumpkin when they got back.

They made a quick pasta for dinner before diving into their pumpkins, covering the table with magazines and newspapers and grabbing all of the sharp utensils Elizabeth owned as well as some markers for tracing.

Music played in the background as they began mapping out their design. Elizabeth was going for a standard jack-o-lantern look while Harry traced a cute upside down bat, carving out the top and scooping out the guts. Harry was faster than her, washing his hands to prepare for the sculpting of the bat.

“How’d you do that so fast?” Elizabeth huffed, scraping the inside of her pumpkin, “Mine’s so stringy!”

Harry laughed, walking back over to her, “Baby, you’ve got pumpkin guts in your hair” he pulled them off in long strands.

Elizabeth wiped her forehead with her wrist, “I totally did that on purpose.”

Harry laughed harder as she’s now smeared pumpkin juice all across her forehead. The crinkles by his eyes deepened and his teeth shone brightly while he took a paper towel and wiped her forehead clean. He sweetly bent down and kissed her lightly on the lips.

Right as he was about to say something, Elizabeth’s phone dinged to signal she had gotten a text message. Instinctively, Harry looked over on the table where it lay and noticed that it was from Kyle. The text message displayed on the home screen ‘Please call me. I miss you. Are you still with him?’

Elizabeth looked up at Harry to see his expression change to concern. Suddenly she felt the need to explain herself. “I haven’t spoken to him since the club, I promise.”

“Why is he texting you?” Harry asked. His tone was calm, but you could see the conflict in his eyes.

“Harry, he’s been texting me at least once a week since we broke up. He’ll get over it. I promise, I’m all yours. Please, babe, don’t let him ruin tonight.”

Harry’s expression softened, a flicker of light shining through before he nodded, accepting what she said and giving her another kiss, more yearning than the one before.

By the time they had finished their pumpkins, Elizabeth’s looked like a twelve year old carved it, and Harry’s bat looked more like a butterfly, but they were done and that’s all that mattered. They were exhausted from the day’s activities and since it was nearly 1 AM, they decided to go to bed. Harry had to be up early to head back to the studio as they were working on the album some more, and Elizabeth had to get back to work. 

She found herself dreaming about Harry with a baby, and wondering what it would be like if their relationship actually lasted. Then she suddenly started having nightmares about seeing Anne again. She was always the sweetest woman Elizabeth had ever known, but how would she feel about her and Harry dating? Would she be as accepting?

KEEP READING

[robinskey]

Don’t Touch My Family

Request: Would you be willing to make an imagine of dad!billy were after graduation u nd billy leave town bc u get pregnant w/out telling anybody but after a few years u have a son & daughter Neil finds out n come by the house hella pissed while billy isnt home, tries to hurt u nd the kids but billy comes home n just beats the hell out him for trying to hurt his family? just the thought of billy goin after the only person hes terrified of for HIS family makes him THE father he never had makes me melt ❤

A/N: This is a little bit darker than my typical fluffy sunshine fanfic, but I really liked the request, so I decided to do it anyway. :) Sorry if you wanted something shorter, anon-this turned into more of a drabble/one-shot than an imagine. Thanks for requesting!

Warnings: Teenage pregnancy, descriptions of violence, implied abuse, language

You find out you’re pregnant halfway through the last semester of senior year. 

When you tell Billy, you expect him to freak out. He doesn’t, though-at least, not on the outside. On the inside, he’s absolutely panicking. But he can see how upset you are, so he just pulls you close. He whispers into your hair that he’ll support you in whatever you want to do.

After a few days of contemplation, decide you want to have the baby. You and Billy agree that it’s best to keep your pregnancy a secret-for now, at least. If your parents found out, your father would probably actually fire that shotgun he’s always threatening to use on “that deadbeat boyfriend of yours.”

And Billy...well, he has no idea how his father would react. But he has no intentions of finding out.

Thus, Billy offers to run away with you right there on the spot. However, you ultimately decide that it would be better to finish high school. Maybe you'll even be able to save up a little bit of money before the two of you start a new life together.

So, for the next few months, you wear baggy clothes to hide your growing midsection. Billy picks you up for “dates” that are actually doctor’s appointments. Thanks to your valiant efforts, no one suspects a thing.

Eventually, graduation rolls around. Your family hosts a small get-together after the ceremony. Distant relatives congratulate you on your achievements and ask if you’re excited to start this “new chapter in your life.” You smile and nod.

You have no idea.

Later that night, you stuff everything you can fit into a small tote bag. You leave an apology note to your parents on the kitchen counter and sneak out of your house.

Billy’s waiting for you outside in the Camaro. He greets you with a kiss on the forehead and holds the door open as you climb into the passenger seat. As he drives away, you watch your childhood home shrink into the distance, saying a silent goodbye to the only home you’ve ever known.

***

Five years later, you and Billy share a two-bedroom house on the West Coast. You have two kids-a son and a daughter. Billy works as a mechanic at an auto repair shop, while you write for the local newspaper. Neither of you make much money, but it doesn’t matter. You’re both happy-genuinely happy-for the first time in your lives.

Billy gets home around 5:30 every day, so, when the doorbell rings at 5:15, you figure he just got off early.

“I’m coming, honey!” you yell, bouncing your infant daughter on your hip.

But when you peek into the peephole, you discover not your husband standing on your doorstep but a scruffy older man in tattered clothing. His face is scrunched up, and he squints in the sun. You freeze, clutching your baby to your chest.

Neil Hargrove is standing on your porch.

“I know someone’s home. I heard you,” he barks. “Come on. Open up. I just want to talk.”

He raises a dirty fist and raps on the wood. The noise scares your daughter, who starts to whimper. You’re too busy shushing her to notice your son appear at your side.

“Mama, who’s that?”

You clamp a hand over his mouth and suck in your breath. Maybe, if you’re quiet enough, you can cancel out the noise made by your clueless four-year-old.

“Is that my grandson?”

For a split second, his volume dips below its typical scream-level. It’s the most gentle you’ve ever heard him speak.

But then he has to ruin it by pounding once more on the door.

“Come on, you coward, open the damn door!” He rattles the doorknob so violently that you think it might fall off.

This time, you can’t prevent your daughter from letting out a wail. Beside you, your son sniffles.

You muster every last fiber of courage in your being. “Get the hell out of here, Neil,” you growl, trying to sound as menacing as possible.

“Y/N? Is that you?” he asks. There’s a soft thud, almost like he’s just leaned his forehead against the wood.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I thought it was Billy in there,” Neil says.

“Billy-Billy is here,” you stutter.

“No, he’s not. I don’t see the Camaro anywhere, and I know my son takes that damn car everywhere,” Neil says.

Your son wraps his arms around your calf and clings to it. You hope he isn’t able to absorb the panic pulsing through every part of your body

“I’m warning you, Neil, to walk out of here while you still can. I…” 

You scan the messy living room, littered with toys. Your gaze falls on a plastic pistol laying on the sofa.

“I have a gun. And I’m not afraid to use it,” you threaten.

The wall between you slightly muffles his ominous chuckle, but it still reaches your ears.

“I’m sure you do, sweetie. But there’s no need to get violent on an old man who just wants to see his grandkids. Why don’t you just open the door, Y/N?”

“Why don’t you just go to hell, Neil?” 

The silence drags on long enough for you to almost convince yourself that he’s walked away.

Almost.

And then, just loud enough for it to be audible: “If that’s how you want to play it.”

You jump out of the way as the door falls inward with a thud.

Neil Hargrove slowly lowers the foot he used to kick it down, glaring at you with bloodshot eyes.

You push your son behind you, wrap your arms tighter around your daughter, and take cautious steps backwards.

“Did you really think you could hide from me forever?” he asks. He advances deeper into your home-your sanctuary-with every word.

“What do you want from me?” you demand. Your backside collides with a wall; Neil’s backed you into a corner.

“I just want what you and my son stole from me by skipping town five years ago,” Neil says. “A chance to connect with my family.”

He draws close enough that you can count every crater left by untreated acne on his creased face and smell the stale whiskey on his breath. “I knew you had one child,” he says, peeking around you at the little boy cowering in the corner, “but two? What a pleasant surprise. This little one-let me see her face.”

Neil extends a wrinkled hand to peel back the blanket covering the baby. You’re too stunned to react until his filthy finger is only inches from her face. That’s when you raise a knee and jam it into his groin. He doubles over with a grunt.

“Go!” You practically shove your son into his room and set the baby next to him. Then, a hand wraps around your ponytail, yanking you backwards. Tears stream down your face as you scream at your kids to shut the door and lock it. There’s a slam and a click, then the word “bitch” yelled into your ear. Neil spits into your ear canal as he calls you every name in the book. You claw and kick and punch, but Neil’s got a death grip on your hair. He drags you across the living room floor, promising that he’s “going to make you pay.” He finally tosses you onto the couch. Your back aches as the barrel of the fake gun juts into your spinal cord.

Between your shrieks and Neil’s name-calling, you don’t hear the roar of the engine as the Camaro pulls onto your street, nor the squeal of the brakes as Billy pulls up next to the beat-up pick-up truck he’d recognize anywhere. You don’t hear your husband’s thundering footsteps as he sprints up the sidewalk. No, you don’t notice any of that; you’re too preoccupied flailing around as Neil tries to pin you to the sofa. 

But even though you don’t see him, Billy appears in the doorway, still wearing his navy mechanic jumpsuit. He’s covered in grease stains and flushed skin. And, for the first time in his life, he raises his voice at his father without an inkling of fear of the consequences.

“Get your hands off my wife!”

He charges at his father, who’s caught completely off-guard. The two of them crash onto the coffee table, snapping it in two. They only wrestle for a minute before Billy comes out on top. He raises his fist and brings it down on his father’s face until it’s nothing more than a bloody pulp. Billy continues landing blows long after Neil passes out. And, while Neil Hargrove certainly deserves it, you’d rather not have Billy kill someone in your house with your kids in the literal next room. So, eventually, you walk up to your scratched-up, bruised husband and lay a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“Baby,” you say softly. 

He gazes up at you, the pain and torment of eighteen years of abuse bubbling to the surface once again. Once his eyes meet yours, they immediately soften. He raises himself to his feet and pulls you into a tight embrace. He squeezes you so tightly that you wince, sore from Neil throwing you around like a ragdoll. Billy apologizes profusely and holds you out at arm’s length. His eyes flicker over your features.

“Are you all right?”

“No,” you say honestly. Your hands are shaking profusely, your heart rate is still elevated well above normal levels, and you’re pretty sure you’ll have nightmares about this encounter for the rest of your life. 

“Did he hurt you?”

“A little. But it could have been so much worse, if you hadn’t…” 

A single tear trails down your cheek. Billy wipes it away with his thumb.

“You don’t have to go there, Y/N. Don’t go there,” he says, leaning his forehead against yours. “It’s all going to be okay.”

Your eyelids flutter shut. “You’re right. We’re safe now-me, the kids-”

“The kids!” you both exclaim at the same time. You run to their bedroom and knock on the door. It swings open, and two small children stare up at you. They both burst into tears, and you and Billy gather them into your arms.

The police arrive a few minutes later, just as Neil starts to regain consciousness. (Having nosy neighbors pays off when you need someone to call 9-1-1 without being asked.) As the officers escort Neil out of the house in handcuffs, Billy warns him to never come near his family again.

And for the first time in his life, his father actually listens.

Taglist: @novaddictx @anabundance0ffand0ms @rexorangecouny  @sweetboibilly @scarrasco1325  @readinthegarden12 @lacunaclouds

If you want to be added to the tag list for a specific character/my writing in general, leave a reply or send me a message! Thanks again for reading. <3

If you want to check out more of my writing, here’s my masterlist. :)

[steebharringt0n]

cat’s in the cradle

infant | toddler | child | teenager | young adult

a 5-part story exploring the relationship between billy hargrove and his first-born son, adam

pairing: billy hargrove x you

rating: t

a/n: thank you all for the feedback, this has been super fun to write so far and i’m so happy to see it receive so much love, if you’ve missed a part, I have linked them up top! enjoy!

---

part 3 - child

“Ma! I can’t find my baseball glove!”

“Mommy, mommy, mommy!”

“MA! MY GLOVE!”

“MOMMY!”

Your head was going to explode if your children would not shut up.

The Hargrove household was in it’s usual chaos mode. Backpacks and shoes had a permanent place by the front door, the living room wall was adorned with pictures of the kids, pictures of you and Billy, pictures of you, Billy and the kids, and a couple with Max and your parents in them. It was Saturday morning and Adam had his championship little league game. The Sunset Cliff Tigers were on a hot streak and as usual, the four of you were running late because your husband just loved to take his sweet time showering. You were in the kitchen quickly stuffing snacks and drinks for the team, it was your job as the coach’s wife to always bring after game snacks - plus you always brought the best snacks.

10-year old Adam came rushing into the kitchen, his square glasses adorning his face as he frantically searched around the area for his lucky baseball mitt. His blond hair had darkened out as he got older, turning into a dirty blond that matched Billy’s hair. All dressed up in his yellow and white striped uniform, you heard the loud clacking of his baseball cleats roam around the kitchen.

“Adam, you left it in the laundry room” you casually told him, zipping up the large snack bag.

Adam blinked blankly, then quickly turned on his heels and ran over to the laundry room. You heard small puttering steps come into the kitchen, accompanied by a mischievous giggle you knew too well.

“Mommy, mommy, mommy!”

Ah, yes, Ava.

5-year old Ava Grace Hargrove was a carbon copy of you - minus the blue eyes. She had the same hair, same smile, same nose, and she even laughed the same way you did. 

But my god, was she nothing like you. She was everything Billy, and it terrified you.

The mere thought of her turning into an angry, rebellious teenager gave you nightmares. She was nothing like your sweet boy, in fact they were the complete opposite of each other. Ava threw tantrums, Ava hated eating her vegetables, and oh man, don’t even think about reading her a bedtime story - she found them incredibly boring. She was loud, rebellious, and had a knack for getting into trouble.

She got along swimmingly with her Auntie Max.

But she knew how to work her way around you and Billy. She had a look - pretty much the same look that Billy would give to charm his way through situations. She would hang her lower lip in a pout, bat her long eyelashes and suddenly you and Billy were turned into goo.

Billy more than you. She had him wrapped around his finger, she was always able to weasel her way out of getting into trouble when Billy was around. His little princess could do no wrong in his eyes. He was there for every boo-boo, every cold, every flu. He was incredibly protective of her, more than he was with you in high school, and that’s saying something.

With a loud sigh escaping your lips, you turned to face your daughter, “Yes baby?”

Standing barefoot, with her long barbie pajamas, she gave you a grin, “I want my cheerios”

You quickly whipped out a sandwich bag, shoving handful of cheerios and zipping it close.

Being a full time mom, and teacher had its perks. You were a master multi-tasker, simultaneously grading papers, cooking dinner, doing laundry, putting your kids to bed and still find time with your husband? You were like Wonder Woman in Billy’s eyes. 

You approached Ava, crouching down to her size. The bag of cheerios dangled in your hand, Ava went and tried to get a grab at it but you swiped it away before she could. She let out a angry grumble,

“You’ll get your cheerios when you go get dressed - we’re already late Ava Grace, I laid out your clothes for you on your bed, go change.” you ordered, your head gesturing towards her bedroom. Ava nodded at you, letting out a giggle before she scampered upstairs to her lilac colored room.

You scanned around the kitchen, making sure you didn’t forget anything else to pack. You had snacks, drinks, first-aid, sunscreen (yes, you were THAT mom). You heard the thundering footsteps of Billy come down the stairs, “Let’s go! We’re already late!” he shouted.

He poked his head into the kitchen flashing you a smile that still, at 30 years old, made you weak in the knees. “Ready momma?”

He donned on a yellow baseball cap, the words coach written in white, bold letter words. When Adam had expressed interest in little league, Billy jumped at the chance to coach his team. It was pretty much the only thing they had in common. Adam had no interest in cars, no interest in his dad’s lame old music, no interest in surfing, they had nothing in common.

Except for their love of baseball.

Billy and Adam held season passes to the San Diego Padres. They wouldn’t miss a game if their life depended on it. Hell, Billy even closed shop early one day in order to catch a game.

It was their thing, their little club, and your heart would swell when the two of them would come bursting into the house, their hands sticky from eating popcorn, their shirts stained with mustard from the hot-dogs, with large smiles on their faces, drunk on all the fun they had at the game.

Although they both couldn’t be any different, their love for baseball is what kept their bond tight.

“I’m waiting for our little hellraiser to get dressed” you told him, leaning forward on the kitchen island.

“My little Ava? My little princess who can do no wrong?” he dramatically feigned hurt, his hand placed over his heart.

He leaned over the kitchen island, meeting you halfway. Your noses grazed one another as you felt his minty breath on your face.

“What do I get when we win today?” he huskily spoke. After being together for over 10 years, you both were still crazy in love with each other since the first time he laid eyes on you when he walked into Hawkins High. Albeit you both were older, but his features had become more defined, his jaw more chiseled, his shoulders more broad - he still had that ugly tattoo on his shoulder (which both Adam and Ava marveled over) but he was still as sexy as ever.

“Hmm ... I dunno, maybe you’ll get to first base, maybe a little bit of second base ... not sure if you’ll hit a homerun though ... “ you playfully teased.

Billy’s raised an eyebrow, “Is that a challenge, Hargrove?”

“You bet your ass Hargrove”

“Ew, what are you guys doing?”

You quickly placed a peck on his lips as Adam’s voice broke the conversation between the two of you.

You smiled sweetly at your son who was now wearing a matching yellow baseball cap, walking over to him, “Nothing, did you find your glove?”

He pulled his old, ratted glove from under his arm, waving it in the air. “Got it right here, Ava! Let’s go!” he shouted at the stairs.

“I’m coming!” she shouted back, running from out of her room, her [Y/H/C] hair all wild as she carefully walked down the steps. All dressed up in her yellow overalls to match the team color, and white shoes, she looked absolutely adorable and for a second you forgot how much a little spitfire she could be.

“Daddy, daddy, I wore yellow for you!” she exclaimed happily, pushing her hair out of her face as she proudly showed off her yellow overalls. Billy scooped up his daughter, planting kisses all over her cheeks. He rested her on his hip, “I have my own cheerleader, whaddya know!”

You walked over to Billy and Ava and handed her the ziplock bag, she eagerly took it from your hands, and immediately started to shove the cheerios in her mouth.

The four of you quickly ushered out of the house, piling into Billy’s top of the line 1997 Honda CR-V, or as commonly known as, the family car. Billy’s poor old camero was collecting dust in the garage. He rarely had time to drive it around, but he knew one day he would pass on his first baby to Adam.

The drive to the baseball field was quick, but the crowds were already getting large. The Sunset Cliffs Tigers were going up against the Hillcrest Sharks - this was turning out to be a big game. Adam knew how difficult this team would be, but he wouldn’t let it effect his game. He didn’t want to let his father down.

Billy pulled the car into park, and Ava quickly jumped out of her booster seat, running towards the concession stand where you promised to buy her ice cream if she behaved well. You gave both your boys a good luck kiss (and a swat to Billy’s ass for good measure) as they headed down towards the coach’s box to huddle up with the team.

You caught up with Ava, who was having a hard time deciding on whether to choose chocolate or vanilla ice cream. Ultimately she ended up going with both. The two of you then found a spot on the bleachers, right behind the coach’s box as the game started to get underway.

The Tigers started out with a strong lead, hitting home runs left and right, but it was up until the 5th inning that the Sharks were quickly catching up to them. By the time the 9th inning rolled around the game was tied, 5-5, and it was a nail-biter.

Adam was on third base, he was so close to home base that he could feel it under his cleats. He pushed his glasses up, his neck turning towards you and Ava as you happily waved and gave him a thumbs up.

“You got this baby!” you shouted, Ava’s sticky hands that were covered in soft serve ice cream clapped along with you.

Suddenly, Adam got nervous. The crowds, the expectation, it all hit him at once.

He looked up at his father who could clearly read his nerves, and Billy called a time-out.

Adam jogged his way over to the coach’s box, a panicked expression on his face.

“Dad, I can’t do it, I can’t slide”

Billy crouched down to Adam’s height, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder, “Hey, hey, where did this come from?”

Adam shook his head, “I don’t wanna mess up, I don’t wanna lose.” Adam paused, sucking in a breath, “I don’t want to disappoint you”

Billy’s heart clenched at those words. It was like staring at a mirror when he gazed over at a nervous Adam. The painful memory of Neil berating him for not sliding properly at his own little league game suddenly entered his mind. He remember how terrified he was when Neil grabbed his arm, shaking him violently for not listening - for disappointing him.

For being a pussy.

But Billy isn’t Neil. He is nothing like Neil.

Billy placed both hands on Adam’s shoulder as he hung his head low. Billy lifted his son’s chin up, adjusting his glasses, and sweeping his sweaty hair out of his face.

“Win or lose, slide or not, I am proud of you no matter the outcome. You will never disappoint me Adam.”

Adam’s bottom lip trembled as he nodded at his father. Billy then stood up and engulfed his son in a tight hug. Billy pulled away, adjusting Adam’s yellow baseball cap. With a watery smile on his face, Adam jogged back to third base, a new wave of confidence instilled in him.

Jacob Richardson was up to bat, and as soon as the pitcher threw the ball, Jacob swung with all his might, the loud clack of the ball hitting the bat echoed throughout the field. All eyes were on Adam as he started to run towards home base. His cleats digging in the dirt, his arms woosh-ing by his side. He didn’t have time to think, but he went ahead and took the leap. 

He threw himself onto the ground, feeling the rocks pierce his skin, the dirt burning his arm as he slid towards the base. His glasses were complete dirty, obstructing his vision. He outstretched his arms until the felt the home base plate under him.

“SAFE!”

The crowd roared with excitement. Adam jumped up, swiping his glasses off his face to see his teammates rush towards him. Lifting him up on their shoulders and parading him around. You and Ava ran out to the field, running over to Billy who was being handed the championship trophy. You placed a big sloppy kiss on his mouth, he was grinning from ear to ear as you pulled away from him. Billy then ran out to his team, handing Adam the championship trophy as his teammates placed him on the ground.

“I did it dad! I slid!” Adam beamed, his entire face caked with dirt.

Billy swept Adam in a hug, “You did! and I am so, so proud you”

You and Ava ran out to the field, and as soon as Billy let Adam go from his hug, you pulled your baby boy and held him tight against your chest.

“Oh my baby boy is a little league champion! I am so proud of you!” you exclaimed.

“Ma .. you’re embarrassing me ...” he muttered as you started to clean away at his face. No son of yours was going to look dirty for the championship photo. You felt tears prick your eyes as you stared down at your boy, the pride you felt for him made you feel overwhelmed, and you had a take a second to calm yourself down.

You probably snapped a million pictures of the whole team, but the favorite picture you took was of the three people who you loved the most. Billy holding Ava in his arms, Adam standing right beside them with the championship trophy in his hands, showing it off with a proud smile.

After a long celebration with the team (with lots of cake and pizza) the four of you headed back towards the car. Ava being Ava, consumed way too much cake and had a sugar crash. She ended up passed out on Billy’s shoulder, crumbs of chocolate cake decorated her lips as small snores escaped from her mouth. Billy had his other arm wrapped around your shoulder, Adam walking right beside you with the trophy in his hands.

“So am I getting scoring a home-run tonight?” he cockily spoke in your ear, his eyebrows wiggling suggestively.

“Wait you guys are playing baseball tonight? Can I play?!” Adam suddenly interjected. Billy was apparently not a good whisperer.

Ava suddenly awoke from her slumber, her eyes wide and alert, “I wanna play too! I wanna play baseball! I wanna score homeruns!” she whined.

Billy’s eyes almost bulged out of his head, and you almost choked, “Ava you are never scoring a homerun” Billy managed to utter out.

This in turn caused Ava to start whining even more, and for Adam beg, to plead to play baseball with his parents.

Luckily they were too young to realize the sexual euphemism that Billy had tried on you.

You jabbed Billy on his side, throwing him a look, “Real smooth Casanova, real smooth”

---

tag list: @the-first-breath-of-autumn-air @justabeautiful-letdown @fab-notfat @tarahell @noodlenerd101 @crazylittlethingcalledobsession @letdecemberburninflames @kake-babe @barbarasbae @delqcour @wearewiththebands @oogachuggaoogaoogachugga

[astyle-alex]

[Fanfic] Start With Why | the Old Guard

WhooHoo! New fanfic! It's always a great day when I can start posting a new project! (Especially, when I have  a whole project entirely completed and can post it  with confidence that it won't be pushed off on hiatus because I get derailed in the middle of writing).  This was is already complete at 6 parts and will wrap up right before 2020 (finally) comes to a  close.

Start With Why

Fandom: the Old Guard Pairings: Background Nicky x Joe Characters / Focus: OT5 + Copley, reacting to Booker's betrayal Rating: Gen Audiences Warnings: None (well, language, because the team are all quite colorful) Total Word Count: 10,288 Chapter Word Count: 2,017

Summary:

The thing about betrayal is that it hurts. Sometimes it hurts too much to see the broader situation clearly. But after Booker's betrayal, the team has to look at themselves and see how every one of them is culpable. Booker may have done the deed, but his measly 200 years makes him a child to the others, especially Andy, and like babysitters are to blame when their charge sets the curtains on fire, the Family needs to ask themselves WHY and accept the honest answers. Why Copley, Why Merrick, and Why something made Booker believe that his choice was the right one for his Family...

||   Read on Patreon    |   Read on Ao3   ||

Part I :: ANDY

In the Immediate After, Andy is both utterly numb and entirely electrified. She’s chilled through her old bones from the icy weight of deadened muscles, and yet lit from inside by a fire she’d forgotten how to feel as they escape Merrick Labs. That conflicted state of incomparable feeling persists as they drive to a safehouse 20 minutes outside the London center-city, one with enough bathrooms to allow each member of their tragic little band to claim one for themselves (though, obviously, Joe and Nicky share one, regardless).

The privacy of that permeating sense of space permits them all to take their own time in separating themselves from the immediate horror of what they’d just gone through.

It allows them to clean up in their own ways and refocus on the fact that this isn’t really over, not yet. There are still two frickin’ cosmic elephants in the room.

Booker is the first one, the most critical and the most painful.

Copley can wait until a point later in the After.

Andy takes longer than usual— than she used to.

By the time she’s washed away the blood and viscera, by the time the shower has worked the worst soreness out of her aching muscles, and by the time she’s redressed her still-unhealed wounds, Booker’s already gone. Nile, too.

They’ve crossed the little hamlet’s main street to a bar perched right on the coast. The Prospect of Whitby’s an old haunt of theirs, a regular watering hole they’ve indulged in for a few hundred years now (with careful periods of avoidance as generations change over). Booker’s ordered a round of beer for all of them, ensured that he’d selected each of their favorites and instructed the bartender to keep them coming all afternoon, before stepping away— as close to out of sight, out of mind as he could possibly think the rest of them would tolerate.

He’s doing his best not to antagonize them any more than he already has— staying close enough to feel like they’ve got adequate supervision on him, and yet staying far enough away to keep from starting an actual brawl.

Meanwhile, Nile’s claimed a table in the back. It’s their usual spot— the one high-top that’s got the most obvious throw of tactical advantage in the place. Nile doesn’t wave when she spots Andy in the pub’s gloom, but she manages a stiff smile before she glances over her shoulder towards the wrap-around balcony to which Booker has retreated.

“He thinks you’re all gonna rip his limbs off or some shit,” Nile states, with that wonderfully refreshing, un-subtle archness of hers. “Seems pretty sure about it.”

“He’s been drawn and quartered before,” Andy replies, knowingly side-stepping Nile’s unspoken question. “He knows there’s a particular appeal to it as a punishment for us.”

Nile doesn’t take Andy’s shit and shoots a flat look her way that makes old warrior, unbearably, want to flash a cheeky smile. It hurts for Andy to feel such lightness in her chest when her heart is hung so heavy.

“We can’t just let this go, Nile,” Andy tells her, sympathetic.

The kid’s only known Booker a few days. She can’t possibly fathom the sting of this betrayal— can’t possibly grasp how it feels to have a rent torn through their reality when they’ve lived with such a small circle of Family being the only people in the world they trust.

It’s not her fault that she can’t understand, not by any means, but that doesn’t change how she truly cannot understand it.

Nile’s part of the Family, now, so she deserves to weigh in, but she’s just a baby…

Andy aches with pity for her— pity mixed with pride— and let’s her smile soften as the ghosts of 6000 years flicker through the shadows trapped behind her eyes.

Nile draws breath to say something more, but she doesn’t get a chance before Joe and Nicky walk in. They look better, Andy notes with the kind of relief that hits like a car crash, but they also look haunted in a way she’s never seen in them before.

Even after losing Quynh, even after nearly losing touch with Andy (as Andy nearly lost herself to the throes of a depressive psychosis that made her lash out), they’d never broached the sorry state of looking even half this fucking devastated.

They have every reason to feel that way, Andy knows, but as the debate over what to do about Booker gets started— with Nile wanting nothing more than an apology from the man who’d betrayed them and Joe wanting to send large dismembered pieces of him to the moon— Andy feels more and more exhausted.

The ‘debate’ soon becomes a mostly circular argument between Joe and Nile.

Nicky shows his favor for one side’s point or the other’s in a pantomime of subtle touches, nods, and eyebrow raises. He doesn’t just blindly support Joe in this— in anything, really… (it’s endlessly comforting for Andy to be reminded of how healthy their relationship is and how Nicky has remained wholly his own person even after a thousand years as part of a set binary-unit)— but he doesn’t speak up with any of his own suggestions, points, or grievances.

Andy just stares at the ceiling.

She listens to their points, listens to both sides.

Gets more and more frustrated with what she’s hearing from them— frustrated with them altogether. As they’ve been arguing, Andy has realized something very important about the little family she’s managed to gather around her.

“You’re all such fucking children,” she mutters— loud enough for them to hear, apparently, as they abruptly stop arguing and stare at her with a mix of confusion and insult.

Andy is not a mother to these people. At most, she’s an older sister, much older, maybe, but just a sister— not someone who should be in a position to dictate right from wrong for them.

But they are just all so fucking young.

A thousand years is nothing.

Joe and Nicky are like teenagers to her, suddenly— teenagers, at best.

Booker is a toddler in a tantrum and Nile, poor sweet fucking Nile, is an innocent, gurgling infant with that blindingly happy baby innocence shining from her frickin’ skin.

“Why’d he do it?” Andy mutters, gaze drifting out towards Booker’s back.

“He wanted it to end,” Nicky supplies, the reserved statement lilted in Nicky’s way of recognizing that a deeper question should be asked while admitting that he doesn’t know what that question should be.

“Bastard just wanted to get himself an out,” Joe spits, snarling into his beer as Nicky joins Andy in looking out the window at Booker’s back.

Andy sags in her seat.

She knows it’s not that fucking simple.

And she knows they know it, too.

Booker did this for himself, yes, but he also did it for her.

And she can’t imagine that he did what he did without knowing that it would be enough to affect Joe and Nicky, too. That he did it without realizing that escape for him and Andy meant something horrible to Nicky and Joe…

But there’s another question, too, one that not even Nile has thought to ask yet.

Joe and Nile’s argument has picked back up while Andy’s gotten lost inside her head.

It stops abruptly as Andy kicks out at the stool across from her and curses as she hits the table with her fist. They stare at her in various stages of grief and high concern as she stands up and stalks out to the rail where Booker’s banished himself to standing vigil.

“Why Copley?”

Booker blinks and frowns at her with a clear pain in his eyes.

“Answer me, Book,” Andy snarls, eyes on the ocean. “Why fucking Copley?”

Booker tries, shifting uneasily beside Andy as a few false starts claw up his throat. Andy lets him be, leaves him to struggle instead of barking at him to get on with it. She knows he’s trying, that he’s forcing himself to really answer instead of giving her an easy line meant mostly to provoke her righteous fury.

Knowing that he’s really trying does not stop Andy’s grip on the rail from going white-knuckled as he struggles to get his stupid shit together.

And then, finally, Booker sighs and huffs the confession, “I believed him.”

Andy’s posture doesn’t change a fraction, but her eyes snap sideways to assess the loose, defeated curl of his posture.

“I believed him, Andy,” Booker says again, telling her heavily, “I believed in him.”

“And Merrick?”

Booker doesn’t flinch at Andy’s venom. He just looks ashamed.

“I never met him,” Booker admits. “Copley found him and said he was the right person for it all. I checked him out, but he wasn’t very social. And I guess he was just too young or too careful for any big scandals to have come to light. His company had done some legitimately good things, things that have directly saved thousands of lives. What I found seemed solid.”

The regret and pain and self-loathing are all pitiably evident in his little speech— it’s the most words he’s strung together with her since… long before they stormed Copley’s home office.

“He was a kid,” Andy almost agreed. “200 years, and you’re still a fucking dumbass when it comes to trusting kids… but why Copley? Why trust that jerkwad so damn much?”

Booker doesn’t answer right away— can’t answer, more like.

“Because he believes in you,” Booker says, closing his eyes and hanging his head like a man at prayer— his voice cracked with the weight of fraying Faith.

It makes Andy turn to face him more fully, makes her have to fight hard to hold back from breaking her fist on his face at the painful thought that anyone might still believe in the pathetic god damn wreck of a useless, fragile fucking person she’s become.

She’d been an impotent immortal for a century, at least. And these last few decades…

Her efforts to save the world have all been nothing but a futile drop in the god damn ocean, and if she’s honest with herself, Andy can admit that all her efforts had probably always been a senseless and pitiably ineffective pretense at helping people… all 6000 years of this shit.

It had all just been something shiny and simple to flatter her own damn ego.

She’d never really saved anyone.

She’d kept a couple people alive, sure, but she’d never really made things better.

Not in any way that mattered in the long run.

But Booker turns to her, looking more broken than she’s ever seen a man survive and says, “You do so much good, Andy… We do so much good. And Copley sees it. This was supposed to be a gift, to all of us— to the whole god damn world. It was supposed to be one more bit of good, but one that could give us something back, for once.”

It hurts like nothing Andy’s ever felt to have that flung at her, to feel a cherry-picked array of words she knows she’s said too often to ignore their clear impact on her team… It hurts too much to ignore the bite of having that impact thrown back in her pathetic, ancient face.

“Maybe we don’t fucking deserve it,” Andy spits, pushing off the rail and storming back inside the pub— running away to where she knows Booker won’t follow.

The others are looking at her expectantly as she throws herself back into her previously abandoned chair and chugs her beer as fast as she can down it— mortal liver be damned.

When the glass is empty, she slams it down and kicks herself back until her chair is tipping at a dangerous angle with her neck wholly exposed and pointed up to the ceiling.

“God damn fucker really thought this shit would help,” she reports— uncertain if the wail she hears behind the words is clear in her voice or simply screaming in her skull.

- - - - -

Author's Notes:

I love Andy's complicated relationship with Booker, truly.

NEXT TIME: Booker reflects on his own actions, mistakes, and shortcomings. Until someone makes him think about his potential.

||   Read on Patreon    |   Read on Ao3   ||

<3

[bostonluxorlimo]

Boston to or from Westminster MA Reasonable Limousine and Car Service with Child Car Seat

Call us: (617) 858-7300 or Online- book:

www.Bostonluxorlimo.com

Boston Airport Limousine Service is offering Minivan Car Service to Westminster MA with Infant rear-facing and    Booster Car Seat. Logan Limo Airport Service gives Boston Airport to from Westminster MA Limousine Car Service at low price. Our drivers are well educated and are going through a tough test before they are selected. Our transport company provides car rental services for various events such as birthday parties, weddings, road shows and corporate meetings. We offer different vehicles to customers such as Luxury Sedans, SUVs, Minivans and Black Cars. Logan Limo is one of the best car service providers in Massachusetts. The drivers of our company have all the information of routes. In addition, they also provide the facility to transport customers’ luggage to their destinations. Our organization provides taxi rental service 24 days a month without any worry about atmospheric conditions.

Limousine and Car Service Boston Airport to Westminster MA

If you are looking for Boston Airport to from Westminster MA Limousine Car Service, book your car in advance.  And it’s 52 miles from Boston and its required only 1 hour and 1 minute to get there. We offer Boston taxi cab service to different areas of this city such as Wachusett Mountain, Massachusetts mid state trail, Athol, Groton, Brookline-NH, Pepperell, Gardner, Fitchburg, Crocker Pond Recreation Area, Crow Hills, Leominster State Forest, Westminster Historical Society, Jaffrey-NH, Townsend, Holden, Clinton, Winchendon, and  Lunenburg.

https://www.bostonluxorlimo.com/limousine-and-car-service-Boston-airport-to-Westminster-ma/

Minivan Car Service to different airports in this city: –

Limo Service provides pick up and drop facility from Boston Airport to your destination at low rate. We give Limousine Service  to or from Worcester Regional Airport, minivan taxi cab to  Bradley International Airport, Newark Liberty International Airport, Luxury Car service to  John F. Kennedy International Airport, New Bedford Regional Airport, and Portland International Jetport at affordable rates.

Luxury Limo Service to different universities and colleges: – Students come from different locations in this educational city. We offer low-cost vehicles for students and professors. Logan Airport Service and Airport Luxury Car Service  gives minivan car service to Franklin Pierce University, Mount Wachusett Community College, Cushing Academy, Emmanuel College, Fitchburg State University, Atlantic Union College, and  Anna Maria College.

Famous top attraction places for people: – The Westminster Crackers structure is located here. Many visitors come here to enjoy the holidays. We give reasonable Limousine rental service to Mount Wachusett, Wachusett Mountain State Reservation, Massachusetts mid state trail, Wachusett Mountain,  and  West Fitchburg Steamline trail.

For booking, please fill out our form through our website or call us directly via our contact number. We provide Limousine, Minivan Taxi Cab and SUVs Car Service Boston Logan Airport to from Ashby MA with Booster, rear-facing and Infant Car Seat. You can submit feedback to our team member and get an immediate response. Enjoy your luxurious ride with Limousine and Car Service.

[infinitepiphanies]

I never imagined Ilocos to be our first family road trip. Firstly because it was a long and destination-full travel and secondly, because my son was just 4 months old at that time and it seemed impossible to do the trip with all the infant “paraphernalia” we have. But still being the go-getter me, I made sure our itinerary was fool-proof and fortunately, our 3-day trip went everything to plan. So here is our Ilocos trip in chronological order.

  Blue Lagoon

We spent most of our 1st day on the road as we opted to go to the furthest north as our first stop – the famous Blue Lagoon in Pagudpud. We stayed in Hannah’s Beach Resort for breakfast and took a quick walk on the shore. It was my son’s first time on the beach so it was such a delightful treat seeing his tiny feet on the sand.

Along the way were some steep hills which were also quite a scenery. We were tempted to go down the rocks but had to leave soon to catch up with the rest of our itinerary for the day.

Bangui Windmills

The famous Wind Farm of Bangui, Ilocos Norte is indeed a top highlight when travelling to Ilocos. This nine-kilometre stretch of wind turbines supplies 40% of Ilocos Norte’s electricity and is a very good model for implementing sustainable energy country-wide. The strong breeze coupled with the crashing waves of the West Philippine sea had both our hair and spirits fly.

  Kapurpurawan Rock Formation

This famous destination along the coasts of Burgos is yet another nature’s masterpiece formed by the natural forces of the ocean. Kapurpurawan came from the Ilocano word “puraw” which means white.

Cape Bojeador Lighthouse

One of the many things Ilocos is popular for is being a haven of Philippine cultural heritage. Cape Borjeador was our first blast from the past during our tour. Built in the 1890’s, this historical landmark is still functional and guides ships away from the rocky coasts of the north.

  Sinking Bell Tower

Laoag’s Cathedral is famous for its bell tower that sinks at a rate of one inch per year due to its sturdy structure built on a sandy foundation.

Malacañang of the North

It is pretty much well known that the infamous dictator and former President of the Philippines, Ferdinand Marcos, was born and bred in Ilocos Norte. So it was not a surprise that many of the Marcoses’ memorabilia are found in the province. One of which is the former leader’s family residence during his seat as Chief Executive. Setting aside my personal political thoughts on the Marcoses, the visit on this Presidential Museum was curiosity-satisfying and I cannot help but note of how the locals honor them.

  Paoay Sand Dunes

Well, if we were single and as wild and free as before, we would definitely rent a 4×4 jeepney and ride our lives away the Sand Dunes of Paoay. But since we have a sleeping infant left back at the car, we just chose a simple stroll and pica sesh notwithstanding the windy atmosphere bringing sands on our faces.

  Paoay Church

It is common for a Filipino traveler all over the world to include churches in their itineraries. That’s why we made sure we won’t miss this three-decade old UNESCO World Heritage Site in Paoay.

  Baluarte Resort and Mini Zoo

We concentrated our final day around Ilocos Sur’s center, Vigan. We started in Baluarte, a 100-hectare property of famous Ilocano politician Chavit Singson, in our attempt to stimulate our son’s interest with animals in its famed Zoo and Safari Gallery. We also side-tripped to the mansion also situated in the same area.

    Pagburnayan Jar Factory

This is our first time together in a jar factory and we were quite amazed with pottery. Though we did not get a chance to try it out (soiling out our hands are not the best option when you have a infant to carry), we definitely look forward to someday experience this craft.

  The Hidden Garden of Vigan

This not really hidden restaurant of Vigan was surely the city’s gem. Food was good and a sure place to experience the local delicacies of Ilocos such as the Vigan empanada, Poqui-poqui and Warek-warek.

    Calle Crisologo

The most known tourist spot in Vigan is a street that will take you back to the Spanish era. This is now a busy commercial street full of antique and souveneir shops,  but its cobblestones and ancestral houses are well-preserved which is definitely why see-goers won’t dare skip to visit.

      Vigan Cathedral 

  Bantay Church and Bell Tower

Our last stop for the Ilocos Sur trip is 2 of the oldest structures in the province. It is a longstanding watchtower circa 1591 that was converted into a church Bell tower in 1857.

To cap this post, here are some of our family random road trip snaps. Surely, this is indeed a trip to remember that we will be delighted to show our son when he grows up.

    Family Road Trip to Ilocos I never imagined Ilocos to be our first family road trip. Firstly because it was a long and destination-full travel and secondly, because my son was just 4 months old at that time and it seemed impossible to do the trip with all the infant "paraphernalia" we have.

[nataliemak-blog2]

Best Infant Car Seats 2020 and How to Choose One for Your Baby

An infant car seat is probably one of the most important gear parents-to-be have to think through and purchase. Many hospitals comply with the guidelines of the American Academy of Pediatrics and don’t discharge a newborn until a member of staff confirms the presence of an infant car seat. So driving your partner from hospital with a new baby or traveling around the country in your car, a newborn car seat is a must-have.  CDC claims that one of the leading causes of child injury is motor vehicle crashes. However, with so many different models on the market one’s head will just start spinning around, provided the pressure to choose the safest infant car seat for your little muffin.  The NHTSA (National Highway Traffic Safety Administration) report states that 325 kids under 5 years old were saved by the use of car seats, but in 59% of cases, car seats for children are used incorrectly. It’s going to be your big decision, so we’ve consulted parents and a CPST (Child Passenger Safety technician) on car seats for infants in a range of styles and budgets, researched two dozen seat models, dug into hundreds of reviews, including at Wirecutter, BabyGearLab, Business Insider, Mommyhood101, and YouTube to help you with that. Top 5 Best and Highest Rated Infant Car Seats 2020 #1. Best Affordable Infant Car Seat: Graco SnugRide SnugLock 35 Elite Graco SnugRide SnugLock 35 Elite $180.52 Graco Read the full article

[searchingwardrobes]

Self-Promo Sunday: Labyrinth

As I’m weeding out my obnoxious amount of fics on Ao3, the first ones I’m deleting are ones like this that were originally speculation fics that canon has now blown out of the water. Even though I knew this spec fic would never actually happen since it closely follows the plot of a Smallville episode by the same name. This was also written before we knew Colin would be playing Wish!Hook. I loved making the creepy pic set for this, which ended up being pretty perfect for Halloween week. I also was struck by how much Andrew J West and Colin look alike. This is a Captain Cobra fic all the way with adult Henry, so that realization gave me massive feels.

Many are a little sad that I’m deleting some of my fics on Ao3, but just remember that they will now be here on tumblr as well! This just means that new readers finding my fics on Ao3 won’t be so overwhelmed and my very best ones will be easier to find.

Summary: One moment, a curse is bearing down on him, and the next Killian Jones wakes up in a mental hospital. They say every thing he has ever known to be true is a fantasy. But surely that's part of the curse . . . right? Inspired by the Smallville episode of the same name. No need to have watched Smallville to get this story. However, there are some fun easter eggs for Smallville fans.

Rating: G

Also on Ao3 until 11 / 3 / 2019

Tagging the usuals:@snowbellewells​​ @kmomof4​​@jennjenn615​​ @kday426​​ @let-it-raines​​ @teamhook​​@kmomof4​​ @bethacaciakay​​ @profdanglaisstuff​​ @resident-of-storybrooke​​ @thislassishooked​​ @tiganasummertree​​@whimsicallyenchantedrose​​ @snidgetsafan​​ @delirious-latenight-laughs​​ @winterbaby89​​ @distant-rose​​@shireness-says​​ @xhookswenchx​​ @optomisticgirl​​ @spartanguard​​ @branlovestowrite​​ @welllpthisishappening​​ @stahlop​

Killian Jones smiled as he brought his cup of coffee to his lips, gazing out of the bay windows to the view of the sea. He could hear Emma’s footsteps above him as she padded across the nursery on the second floor. Through the baby monitor on the coffee table, he could hear her coo a good morning to the baby. His smile widened when little Chloe babbled a response. The voices of the two lasses he loved most in this world quieted on the monitor as the rocking chair began to squeak. In his mind’s eyes, he could see Emma holding Chloe to her breast as she nursed her, rocking slowly back and forth. She would smile down at their wee one, touching a finger lightly against the baby’s soft cheek.

The family’s golden retriever bounded down the stairs, its claws click-clacking on the hard wood floor. The dog nuzzled against Killian’s hook, giving the cool steel a lick.

“Morning, Shelby,” Killian chuckled, giving the dog a pat of greeting.

The dog sat on her haunches, contently waiting by Killian’s side for him to finish his morning coffee. She waited there patiently, and then Killian would rinse out his mug and fill her bowl with kibble. It was their daily routine.

But suddenly Shelby whimpered, turning her head towards the front door. She rose onto all fours, fur bristling as she stalked forward. She stopped directly in front of the door and let out a low, deep growl. Killian arched a brow.

“What is it, girl? You hear something I don’t?”

Killian set his mug on the coffee table and went to the dog who was now scratching at the door, whimpering once again. Killian opened it, and Shelby bounded on to the front porch, barking wildly. Killian stepped out cautiously, hook raised. He had a bad feeling about this. He strode to the top of the porch steps, his eyes widening as he saw what was barreling down the street straight for the house. He turned and raced back inside.

“Emma!” he screamed.

His wife was at the top of the steps, clutching the baby in her arms. Chloe was wailing, her cries different than any Killian had heard before. Cries of fear.

“Killian! Behind you!” Emma screamed.

He turned as the billow of crackling smoke poured through the front door. This curse was different than all the rest, pounding against him like a physical force. With the names of his wife and daughter on his lips, Killian fell backwards, his head smashing against the floor.

*************************************************************

Still on his back, Killian’s eyes fluttered open. He blinked at the harsh fluorescent light swinging overhead. Two men he didn’t recognize were leaning over him. One had a round face, soft with fat and sprinkled with red facial hair. The other had a long, thin face and large ears. Both had dull, unfocused eyes and laughed maniacally.

“Did the curse get you?” chuckled the chubby one.

“Yeah,” the other one said, giving a high-pitched giggle, “which realm did you wake up in?”

Killian sat up, utterly confused, to find himself on a cold, linoleum floor surrounded by a group dressed in white. They were seated in folding chairs in a circle around him. Killian scrambled to his feet, taking in the room. This made no sense. It was a large, colorless room. Industrial, with bars on the windows. Everyone was dressed in plain white pants and shirts. Kilian looked down. Including him.

“Where am I?” he muttered. “Where are Emma and Chloe?”

“Gentleman please sit,” a cultured voice asked gently, and the two men shuffled to chairs and dutifully sat. Killian refused.

“What the bloody hell is going on?”

“I don’t know, Captain Hook,” the man with the red beard chuckled, “but this ain’t the Jolly Roger!”

The man’s words rose in hysterical volume as he spoke, and the others in the circle joined in his laughter.

“What realm am I in?” Killian roared, “What did this curse do?”

“Which curse,” giggled the thin one, “the one that the Queen of Hearts protected you from? Or the one you cast when you were a dark one?” The man used air quotes around the final title.

“Oh, oh, I know,” the chubby one squealed, clapping his hands, “it was the one that separated him from his true love.”

Killian’s anger rose as a hand rested on his shoulder. He turned to a man with a white beard, dressed in a tweed suit. “Killian,” he said softly, “why don’t you sit back down.”

Killian stumbled away from him, “What happened to me? Who are you?”

The man raised his hands in supplication as if Killian were a wild colt who might kick him in the head. “I’m Dr. Hudson. You were just telling us about your dog barking and the smoke coming. Then you blacked out for a minute.”

Killian noted the man giving an almost imperceptible nod over Killian’s left shoulder. He whirled instinctively as two muscular orderlies stepped forward. “I don’t want to hurt anyone,” he warned, lifting his hook aloft. Then he started. There was no hook at the end of his left arm. Just a stump of flesh. Not even the end of his brace. Just a scared, mutilated stump. Fairly fresh, like the days and weeks right after Milah’s demise.

“No,” he gasped in a shuddered breath.

When the orderlies grasped him by the arms, he fought, or tried to. Tried to think of Emma and Chloe and the fact that he needed to find them before something horrible happened. But in his haze of confusion, his reflexes just weren’t what they should have been. And soon he was being dragged down a sterile hallway and thrown into a padded cell.

*******************************************************

Killian was pacing his cell when a face appeared in the tiny barred window in the center of his door. He commanded that Killian step back. Killian obeyed, but planted his feet in readiness. When the orderly stepped through, Killian charged. The man easily tossed him across the floor, and Killian groaned. His body felt so sluggish. As if he had been asleep for a century. Dr. Hudson strode through the room shaking his head. He gestured to two more orderlies, and before Killian knew what was happening, they had him in a strait jacket and seated in a chair. Dr. Hudson paced in front of him.

“Killian,” the doctor sighed as he wiped his glasses on a handkerchief from his pocket, “you really must stop all this fighting. Let me help you.”

Killian jerked against his bonds, “Where is my family?”

The doctor sighed, then in resignation set a manila folder on the table before Killian. He took out a photograph and help it up for Killian to see. Killian’s vision blurred with tears to see the smiling faces of his wife and daughter. But then he shook his head. The photo was one of those cheesy ones taken in a studio at a department store, with the three of them seated together with Killian’s hand resting awkwardly on Emma’s shoulder. The kind Emma always made jokes about. The photos in their home were all candid shots. He narrowed his eyes as he looked closer – and that was his left hand.

“That picture is fake.”

“No,” the doctor said softly, “it isn’t.”

He pulled another item from the file – a newspaper clipping. The headline read, “Young Mother and Infant Die in Fatal Crash.” Killian leaned over it, confusion marring his brow. There was a picture of a car wrapped around a tree and a smaller photograph of a laughing Emma blowing a kiss onto Chloe’s cheek.

“No,” Killian argued, shaking his head, “that never happened. It was morning. We were all just waking up, and the curse came –“

“Killian,” the doctor interrupted, splaying his hands across the top of the table, “you must pull yourself out of this fantasy world you’ve created. Your wife and daughter were killed, and you lost your hand. Ever since, you’ve been in this mental hospital, thinking you’re Captain Hook and everyone you know and love are story book characters.”

“I’m not crazy!” Killian cried out, wincing when he realized his voice sounded exactly that.

The doctor stood and strode to the sink in the corner of the room. He picked something up as he spoke, “Your wife wasn’t Emma Swan, the daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming.”

He turned and in his hand was a bottle of hand soap – “Swan Soap” it said on the bottle. He walked across the room and set the bottle on the table. Killian blinked as he stared at it, his mind flipping over.

Dr. Hudson resumed his seat across from Killian. “Her name was Emma Nolan, before she married you, and her parents were two ordinary people named David and Mary Margaret Nolan.”

“What about Henry?”

The doctor smiled. “You mean Henry Mills? Our janitor?”

The doctor gazed at Killian intently with hazel eyes that seemed to swirl with multiple colors. The room seemed to spin and Killian felt suddenly dizzy. Then there was a knock at the door, and Killian jerked as if suddenly awakened from a dream. A nurse bustled in with a clipboard in her hand. The doctor scribbled something, and the nurse glanced hesitantly at Killian with the same look he had seen on the face of all the orderlies. A look of fear and disgust. Killian blinked when he saw the nurse’s nametag – Regina.

“You see, Killian,” the doctor continued, standing to his feet as the nurse left, “you’ve taken bits and pieces of the things around you to create this fantasy of yours. But it isn’t real. Your wife and child are not out there waiting to be rescued. They’re dead.” Dr. Hudson reached under Killian’s mattress, pulling out a well-worn book. “The sooner you accept that, the sooner you can get well.”

He tossed the slender volume onto the table before Killian and left. It was a copy of J.M. Barrie’s Peter Pan.

*******************************************************

Killian shuffled forward in the medication line, feeling a hopelessness he hadn’t felt since the days of seeking revenge against the Crocodile. If those days were even real. Killian wasn’t sure any more. At least now he was out of the strait jacket. He had decided to at least play nice.

“Don’t take the medicine they give you,” hissed a voice behind him.

Killian ignored it. If he wasn’t crazy, everyone else here was. Best to keep a low profile and ignore the other patients.

“You’re not crazy – Hook,” the person continued.

There was something about the voice that sounded clearer, more steady than the voices of the other patients. He turned tentatively to see a young man in his twenties with brown hair and eyes smiling at him. Something about the face seemed familiar to him. He narrowed his eyes to study the man more closely.

“Henry?” he said tentatively.

The young man’s eyes lit up, “Yeah, it’s me. I’m here to rescue you.”

Killian shook his head to clear it, trying to process this latest development. He had looked in the mirror since waking up in this place, and he could clearly see he hadn’t aged at all. How was Henry . . .

Before he could complete that thought, two orderlies came up behind Henry and grabbed him. “Believe in yourself!” Henry shouted before the men jabbed a syringe into his neck. They then dragged him through a heavy, locked door. It all happened so fast, Killian was rooted in place for a moment.

Then suddenly, Henry’s words surged through him. Believe in yourself! He wasn’t crazy, and he wasn’t weak. He was pirate Captain Killian “Hook” Jones, and his family needed him. He scanned the room as he stepped out of the medicine line. He saw a janitor unlocking the supply closet with a huge ring of keys. He grinned to himself in delight as he remembered all the times he had watched Star Wars with Henry. He couldn’t do the Wookie prisoner gag alone, but he could at least pose as a Stormtrooper . . .

**************************************************

Killian stumbled across the snow with Henry leaning heavily against his shoulder. Not only had they heavily drugged the lad, but they had also beat him pretty severely. Henry had a gash across his forehead that was currently trickling blood down the sleeve of the janitor’s uniform Killian was wearing. And based on the way he kept wincing and holding his side, Killian was pretty sure Henry also had a few cracked ribs.

Shouts sounded behind them, and Killian knew the hospital guards were gaining fast. He didn’t know why his body was so weak, but it was, and the added weight of his boy didn’t help. Killian prayed to whatever gods would listen for intervention. They needed a miracle.

Suddenly, a sedan spun to a stop in front of them, tires squealing. The back door opened, and a dark-haired little girl leaned out. “Hurry! Get in!” she cried.

“Lucy,” Henry groaned, his voice laced with affection. Whoever this little girl was, apparently, they could trust her. And, Killian hoped, whoever was driving.

Killian shoved Henry into the backseat as gently as he could under the circumstances, then slid in himself. The driver turned to face him, her familiar penciled eyebrows arched and a half smile on her lips.

“Good to see you again, pirate.”

“Regina?”

“Um, can everyone catch up later?” the little girl interrupted. “Cause those guys have guns.”

She didn’t have to tell Regina twice. The queen put the petal to the metal just as shots rang out. She flew through the gates of Dreamshade Mental Hospital – Killian rolled his eyes at the irony – and turned on two wheels onto a residential street. Then she sighed and visibly deflated. For the first time, Killian noticed the head of gray hair in the front passenger seat. He groaned when the passenger himself turned to glare at him.

“I believe a thank you is in order for rescuing you, Captain.”

“Thanks, Crocodile,” Killian bit out through clenched teeth.

“Calm down, Captain Guyliner,” Regina grumbled, “at least you didn’t wake up thinking you were married to him.”

Killian couldn’t help the grimace that crossed his face, and an awkward silence descended. The little girl – Lucy - wrapped her arm around his left bicep and leaned into him. He started a bit at the sudden affection.

“Grandpa!” she enthused. “It’s so nice to finally meet you!”

“Grandpa?” Killian’s eyes shifted to Henry in surprise.

“Yes,” Henry chuckled, then winced at the pain in his ribs, “she’s my daughter. Let’s just say I was up to more in the Enchanted Forest than just looking for a way to break this current curse. Good things happened to.”

Killian noted the obvious affection in Henry’s voice and the tenderness in his gaze. Killian looked down at Lucy, who still clutched his arm and beamed up at him. How could you love someone so much whom you just met? The thought immediately took his mind to his own daughter. He swallowed thickly as he regarded Lucy.

“How old are you?”

“Ten.”

Killian closed his eyes, immediate pain washing over him. “I missed it,” he choked out. “My baby girl. I missed everything.”

“No, you didn’t, Killian,” Regina assured him. The words were a balm to his wounded heart. Regina only used his name when she was completely sincere.

Henry struggled to sit up as he addressed Killian, “Don’t worry, Dad. Mom and my little sister are exactly as they were when you last saw them.”

“Where are they?” Killian asked, his nerves sparking in agitation to do something.

“A place that isn’t easy to get to,” Rumpelstiltskin explained with vehemence in his voice, “but believe me, we will get back those we love. No matter the cost.”

Lucy picked up a duffel bag from the floor and handed it to Killian with a huge grin on her face. “I thought you might be missing this.”

He opened it to find his brace and his hook. He turned to Lucy and smiled, placing a kiss to her temple. “Thank you, lass.”

“Killian, do you remember all those times you whined about your true love kisses never working?” Regina quipped as she pressed harder on the gas. “Well, pucker up, pirate. Because your lips are our only hope.”