#Hiccup is too mad to think straight

[neytui]

Oh I completely forgot I was doing this

not finishing it so

[iamgonnagetyouback]

𝟷𝚔 || 𝐃𝐑𝐔𝐍𝐊

♡ ︎ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: You go through a whirlwind of emotions when drunk.

♡ ︎ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: drunk!reader, Reader annoying Sirius

♡ ︎ꜱʜɪᴘ: James Potter x drunk!Reader

You were slumped between James and Sirius, giggling uncontrollably, your legs swinging off the armrest of the couch as you hiccuped. The room was warm, and everything felt so funny. Especially Sirius's hair.

"You know what, Pads?" you slurred, poking Sirius in the cheek. "You look like a... a giant poodle. But a mean one. Like, the poodles at the dog shows that bite people."

Sirius's jaw dropped. “A poodle? You—no, absolutely not. I am—what did you say I was, James?”

James was trying not to laugh. "Uh, majestic, I think."

"Majestic!" Sirius pointed at you dramatically, like that would prove his point.

You snorted so hard you almost fell off the couch, but James caught you, his arm wrapping around your waist and steadying you. "Sure, sure, 'Padfoot the Majestic Poodle.'"

"It's mostly because of your hair—" you giggled, reaching out to pat the top of his head, missing entirely and booping his nose instead. "It's so fluffy, like a big, angry puppy!"

Sirius frowned, swatting your hand away dramatically. "I am not a dog, and my hair is majestic, thank you very much."

"Fluffy," you repeated, poking him in the cheek now. "Sirius, fluffy like a… like a poodle!"

James tried to hold back a laugh as Sirius looked properly offended, folding his arms with a huff. "Are you serious?"

You snorted at his pun. "No, you’re Sirius!"

Remus groaned from beside Peter. "Oh no. Not this again."

Peter shook his head, barely holding back his own giggles. "Here we go…"

“Are you lot serious right now?” Sirius grumbled, crossing his arms. “A poodle. Really.”

“Sirius is serious,” you added, and then cracked up at your own joke. “Sirius is Sirius—wait, Remus, did you hear that? It’s his name.”

Remus rolled his eyes, but there was a smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah, we got it.”

“But I’m not a poodle,” Sirius muttered, still offended, while you continued to giggle.

James still eyed the bottle of firewhiskey in your hand like he wanted to take it away. Not that you noticed. Nope. You were too busy trying to poke Sirius in the cheek.

“You’ve got—got something there,” you slurred, leaning in far too close to Sirius’s face.

“What? Where?” Sirius asked, looking genuinely concerned as he wiped at his cheek. “Did I get dirt on me?”

“Yeah, it’s called your face,” you giggled, falling back onto James and laughing like it was the funniest thing you’d ever said.

Sirius gasped dramatically, hand over his heart. “How dare you! James, do you hear this? Your girlfriend is cruel.”

You waved him off, turning your attention back to James, who was trying not to smile. “He’s just mad ‘cause he’s not as pretty as you,” you said, squinting up at James like you were stating the most obvious fact in the world. You reached out and patted his face, a little too hard. “So. Pretty.”

James chuckled, grabbing your hand before you could slap him again. “Alright, love, I think you’ve had enough for one night.”

“Noooooo,” you whined, stretching out the word. “M’fine, Jamie. Look! I can sit up perfectly straight.” You immediately leaned to the side, almost toppling over onto Peter, who yelped and quickly scooted out of the way.

“Maybe… maybe a little too much,” Remus said from beside Peter, watching with raised eyebrows.

“Remus!” you called, throwing your arms out toward him. “You’re so boring, you know that?”

“Hey, I like boring,” Peter mumbled from his chair, crossing his arms.

“Yeah, Wormtail likes boring!” you repeated, pointing to Peter like he was your greatest proof.

You sat up suddenly, looking around the room, eyes wide and dramatic. “Wait. Wait. You guys can’t ever leave me, okay? Promise.”

The Marauders exchanged confused looks. “Uh—okay?” Peter said hesitantly.

“I’m serious—not like Sirius serious—" you hiccuped, "But you guys can’t leave. We have to stay friends forever or I’ll—I’ll hex all of you!” You threw your hands up, trying to look menacing, but it came off more like a flailing octopus.

James quickly wrapped his arms around you as you dramatically collapsed into his chest. “Love, we’re not going anywhere.”

“Speak for yourself,” Sirius muttered, though he was still looking somewhat offended by your earlier insult. “I don’t think I can handle another ‘your face is the problem’ comment.”

But you weren’t having it. You pointed a shaky finger at them, wobbling slightly. “You better not, Sirius Black! Or I’ll—” You narrowed your eyes dramatically, trying to look intimidating. “I’ll hex you into next week! I know spells, you know!”

James bit his lip, trying not to laugh as Sirius raised an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? What spells?”

“Spells!” you repeated, waving your hands in the air as if that was a valid explanation. “Dangerous ones!”

Peter snorted. “I’m terrified.”

Sirius held up his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright! Merlin, you’re scary when you’re drunk.”

“Good,” you said, immediately softening. “Because I love you guys, even though Sirius is a poodle, and Remus won’t laugh at my jokes, and Peter—well, Pete, you’re just so cute, aren’t you?”

“Thanks,” Peter mumbled.

Tears welled up in your eyes, and you reached out, pulling all of them into a big, awkward group hug. “I just love you guys, okay? Don’t leave me… ever.”

James chuckled, his hand warm on your back. "Alright, let's get you to bed, yeah?"

“I don’t wanna go to bed,” you pouted, leaning into James like a rag doll. “I wanna stay here and annoy Sirius more.”

“I’m not listening to this nonsense,” Sirius huffed, throwing his hands up.

“Oh, but Sirius—don’t you wanna cuddle like a big, fluffy dog?” you teased, blinking innocently.

He narrowed his eyes. “You’re going to regret this in the morning.”

James stood up, pulling you gently with him. “C’mon, love, you’re barely standing.”

“Wait, no, no, no—you're all amazing, even you, Remus, boring and all.” You paused, eyes widening as if you had just realized something horrible. “Wait—don’t ever leave me, guys.”

Your lower lip started to wobble.

“Don’t leave me! You can’t! What if you just disappeared? Poof! Gone! And I’m all alone. I’ll die. I’ll actually die.”

James squeezed your hand, leaning down to whisper in your ear. “I think you’re driving everyone mad, love.”

You looked up at him, beaming. “But not you, right, Jamie?” you gushed, running your fingers through his messy hair, making it even worse. “You’re perfect, James Potter. Like… a Quidditch god! And your glasses are so… shiny.”

Sirius fake gagged. “Ugh, I’m gonna be sick.”

“Shush, poodle!” you shot back at him, your words blending together into a cute mess of slurs. “You’re just jealous ‘cause James is my shiny glasses boy.”

Remus rolled his eyes, but there was a fond smile tugging at his lips. Peter was full-on laughing now, while James was just gazing at you, completely smitten.

You huffed but allowed him to help you stand. “You’re the best, James,” you said, leaning heavily on him as he started to guide you toward the stairs.

“You’re pretty great yourself,” James chuckled, tightening his grip on your waist so you wouldn’t stumble.

Just before you reached the dormitory, you stopped, looking up at him with bleary eyes. “No, really, Jamie. You’re the best. Don’t ever change.”

James grinned down at you, his heart melting a little. “I won’t, love. Now let’s get you to bed before you start threatening to hex me too.”

You smiled sleepily, letting your head rest on his shoulder. “I’d never hex you. You’re too pretty.”

And with that, you were out, leaving James with a fond smile and the rest of the Marauders shaking their heads behind him.

Downstairs, Sirius was still sulking. “A poodle… unbelievable.”

i love drunk!reader so much!!

[gay-dorito-dust]

How about a bill x reader comforting him about his insecurities after having drank too much O'Sadleys? Bill talks about everything that bothers him being almost 100% honest about his emotions and the reader is like 😦. Baffled. Doesn't know how to respond.

You knew bill wasn’t in the right state of mind when you awoke yourself to the feeling of being watched at 3am, only to see a triangular silhouette with stringy arms and legs dangling from it like wet spaghetti noodles, his one eye was half lidded at though it was too much of a bother to open it fully as his top hat was slightly slanted.

‘Bill?’ You asked, trying to blink away the sleep and look at him properly. ‘It’s three am what are you doing here?’

Bill sniffles before hiccuping as he floats over to you, resting himself against your chest as his little hands grabbed at your nightshirt. ‘Tell it to me straight meat sack? I’m a shit friend aren’t I?’ Before you could say anything in response, bill continued. ‘I put venomous snakes in your bath when you ignore me, fire breaking chicken with dragon feet in your room when I want your attention, but not too much attention that I think about turning you into a gold statue so that I can keep you in my sights forever and ever to fill the fact that I don’t want to be alone again.’

He then looks at you with his watery eye, rubbing at it as he hiccups again. ‘Why do you think I have the henchmaniacs? I need to constantly be with someone or a group of them to get what I want, attention because I’ve been devoid of it for too long…that or to ignore that tv static inside my head that kept asking me why did I do it on repeat that it might as well have driven me mad.’

You felt as though you needed to be pinched in the moment because it was obvious that Bill wasn’t in the right state of mind, but he looked so vulnerable and pathetic that you couldn’t help but feel the smallest bit of sympathy for the guy, despite knowing how his ‘pranks’ can be from firsthand experience. You still have the scars to prove it whenever Bill denies ever doing so, and when you do show him he just waves it off as you being clumsy.

‘Bill go to sleep, we’ll talk about this in the morning.’ You tried to close your eyes but the feeling of being looked was too strong to ignore and the moment you opened your eyes again, Bill was hovering over your face and extremely close for comfort. Wait? Was his mascara running?

‘You agree with them too don’t you! I’m a one eyed freak who destroyed his home and thought that through terrorising people and making them submit to my will would ever make them like me enough to care!’ Bill cried as he hugged your face, hiccuping once again. ‘I say that I don’t need anybody when I’m actually I need someone, anyone to care about little old selfish me while expecting nothing in return! Is that too much to ask!’ He adds as he cries hysterically, his smudged mascara now smudged across your face as he nuzzles himself against you.

You awkwardly pat Bill on his back as he continued to weep, feeling a slight pan in your chest but questioning whether this is was just another prank of his, or just him being himself for once in your presence. ‘There there, I’m sure not everyone thinks that way of you..’ you trailed off as you tried to think of how you could approach this situation without risking the chance of death or becoming a golden statue for him to keep forever.

‘Really?!’ Bill says as his eye grow wide when he pulls away from you to look you into the eye. ‘You really mean that? You really, really mean that!’

You saw the childlike hopefulness in Bill’s eye and can’t help but sigh as you gently patted his hands that was holding onto your face in desperation. ‘Yes I really mean it bill, the past will only define you if you let it define you. You’ve done some…questionable stuff but I’m certain you’ll soon see yourself as a person, triangle, demon that you can be proud of.’ You finished off awkwardly as you tried your best to offer some solid advice that’ll appease him while hoping to live another day.

Bill sniffled, wiping the tears from his one eye. Or was it salvia? You didn’t know and didn’t want to care if you wanted to keep your sanity. ‘You’re my only true friend y/n.’ He admitted softly, fidgeting his bow tie and top hat before pulling it off his head. ‘You remember how I told you my home dimension was destroyed?’

Yes you remembered, he told you this information once upon a time and it was something that was hard to forget because how could you live through life knowing you were the last of your own kind without breaking down? Bill then reached into his hat and pulls out a small, barely visible atom that glowed like a star. ‘This is the last of it.’ He adds sombrely and you couldn’t help but feel gobsmacked that he was even showing you this that you couldn’t say anything other than.

‘I bet your home was beautiful.’

‘It’s hard to appreciate it when you’re born with a birth defect and having to bear the curse of being able to see into the 3rd dimension.’ Bill mumbled, nuzzling himself into your neck. ‘I got ridiculed by my peers but my mom would always tell me that she’d love me even with my one eye…sharp edges and all…’ bill trails off weakly as he pushed himself further again your neck to leech off of your warmth.

‘Oh bill.’ You said barely above a whisper as you allowed him to find comfort in your neck. ‘I’m so sorry.’

‘Don’t be meat sack, you’re the only one who cares to listen anyways…I know you won’t betray me, you’re a true friend to me…or as close to one as I’ll ever get.’ Bill confessed as he felt himself fall asleep. ‘So thank you for that, you’re not so bad for a meat sack.’

While Bill fell asleep, you remained up all night wondering where or not he’ll remember this all in the morning or just down right deny that it ever happened in the first place, but just for now you’ll allow yourself to lap up Bill’s vulnerability and rest your hand on his back comfortingly as he slept peacefully. ‘You’re not so bad for a triangle dream demon either Bill, you’ll always have a home with me, or at least a safe space to be yourself with me.’ You said aloud to no one in particular before falling asleep yourself.

[ssahotchnerr]

we’ll be okay - aaron hotchner x reader

after a bad argument and a long night of drinking, aaron gently takes care of you although you drunkly insist you don't need his help, making up along the way.

cw; reader is intoxicated, mentions of alcohol/drinking, reader almost vomits but doesn't, gn! but reader wears makeup, angst, hurt to comfort, established relationship, flashback to an argument, soft sweet aaron <3 wc; 1.8k

-

a very blurry aaron greeted you at the door, causing a swirl of emotions within you. well, it was either him, or the tequila.

“i think,” jj playfully said as she helped you into the apartment, while you tripped over your own two feet. as you tumbled, aaron reached out, catching you and grasping onto your waist to steady you. “this belongs to you.”

you barely heard aaron's thank you for your safe return home, or their exchange of goodbyes. the door closing was what caught your attention, the abrupt sound comparable to how your argument with aaron felt, in a way. leaving a dull, emptiness right in the middle of your chest.

luckily you had previously made plans and were already going out with the girls; giving the both of you a period of time to cool off. the drinks flowed freely and easily, especially as you recalled your tense disagreement with aaron to jj, emily and penelope.

you recognized the apology in aaron's eyes immediately. the guilt was prominent in his face, and you could feel yourself wanting to break. honestly, you forgave him the second you walked out earlier, but you held up the front, your intoxication taking reign over your emotions.

"how was your night?"

"fine." you mumbled in response, pulling out of his embrace and sitting on the carpet - more so, stumbling as you lowered yourself - to tackle the laces on your shoes.

aaron silently watched you, your fingers getting tangled and the strings knotting together. he crouched besides you, resting his elbows on his knees, "do you need my help?"

"i can take care of myself perfectly fine." you spat, more harsh than you intended, and even causing aaron to recoil. in addition, the sudden rush of air from your lungs prompted a hiccup.

aaron sighed but surrendered, straightening up. he waited quietly, while you took way too long to remove your shoes, messily tossing them aside once you managed to pull them off your feet. you got up, very shakily, and almost fell right back down. aaron reached out to catch you again but you ignored him, swiftly moving out of his reach and away.

but he followed you down the hall to your shared bedroom, gingerly keeping back; maintaining his space just in case.

"you're following me." hiccup.

"i'm making sure you don't topple over, honey." his tone was earnest, concerned.

you ignored him again, entering the room and beelining straight to your drawer to begin getting ready for bed.

aaron continued to keep some distance, leant up against the doorframe. after a moment, though, his voice entered your ears. "that's my drawer."

"i know." you hissed, but paused your ruffle through the tshirts, recognizing none as your own - no you didn't. you could only murmur in not-very-convincing defense, "i wanted one of yours."

with a small hum, he casually crossed his arms, while you struggled to pull your shirt over your head. your frustration was only heightening, and you whimpered in retaliation. tears pinched at your eyes, for more reasons than one.

"here, let me." aaron moved forward. at your side, his eyebrows were raised - asking for your permission to remove your clothes. once unenthusiastically received, he maneuvered your arms, untangling yourself from yourself and pulling off your shirt with ease. he reached into his drawer, grabbing your favorite old shirt of his, and then into yours. he slipped his shirt onto you gently, before guiding you to the end of the bed, sitting you down to remove your pants and slip on your sleep shorts.

"aaron?"

"yes?" he raised your shorts up your legs, not meeting your eyes.

"i don't like being mad at you."

at your words, especially at the inebriated sorrow in them, did his eyes lift. he let out a sigh, one of his hands rubbing your calve comfortably. "i don't like it either. but you have full reason to be, i'm really sorry for earlier."

earlier. you mind floated back to the afternoon, the second aaron walked through the door upon his arrival home. you had been eagerly waiting, anticipation and excitement bubbling within you. at work, you had been granted some paid-time off, and your first immediate thought was to get out of town with aaron. there was an endless list of places you could vacation to, and it's been a while since your last getaway together. and so, you only suggested, that aaron take the same week off as well.

in all honesty, you've missed him. lately, it's been case after case, late night after late night, and you haven't been seeing him more than you have been seeing him. you've been going to bed alone, waking up alone, the only thing accompanying you in the morning being a sticky note on aaron's pillow, wishing you a good day and that he loved you.

however, your own excitement was unmatched. aaron had been stuck in an unexpected meeting all day, with very unpleasant bureaucrats, which had ultimately prevented him from getting things done. his already extensive workload had lengthened, and so did the stress on his shoulders. any other day, he would be enamored with the idea of taking a break from reality, escaping it with you.

speaking solely from frustration, aaron had shot down your suggestion, immediately, saying he had 'other, more important things to do.'

the two of you had gone at it, and in anger you had said something along the lines of aaron putting his job above you, that he didn't care, that he should try harder - the specifics were so hazy now, your intoxication to blame.

aaron had argued back you weren't being understanding, that he 'just can't take time off, you already know that'. and soon enough, you had left in a huff, tears and with a slammed door behind you.

even throughout the night, you didn't bat an eye at the few texts aaron had sent, and declined his one call when it illuminated on your screen. rather, you downed drinks in silent response.

"c'mere." he sat up on his knees to pull you into his arms, your head resting against his chest. his heart beat in time with your now pounding headache, a wave of nausea overwhelming you at the stillness of his embrace.

aaron noticed your small waver, and pulled back cautiously. with a hand moving to the small of your back, he was at the ready if anything in your stomach were to make an appearance, "sweetheart?"

"'m fine." you waved it off, taking a deep breath and resisting the gag deep in your throat. "jus' fine."

"okay..." his brown eyes had that gentle look in them, familiar even though you couldn't see him too properly. "here, let's get you cleaned up a bit, and into bed. sound good?"

with you sat on the toilet, aaron grabbed onto your package of makeup wipes, gently cleaning any remnants off your face. it wasn't your full skincare routine, but he figured it was better than nothing, and would prevent your pillowcase from staining.

"we can talk more in the morning." when you're sober. aaron finished wiping your left cheek, balling the wipe and tossing it into the trash. "but i was thinking, and i may have a compromise."

your nose scrunched slightly in confusion.

he took a moment to speak, nervously shifting through the objects on the bathroom counter, buying minor time as he was unsure of how you would receive his accommodation. "as much as i want to, and believe me, i do," his sweet eyes found yours, "but it may be hard for me to take a week off. i'll try and work it out, i promise, but if not, i can most likely take a thursday and a friday. then we'll also have the following weekend, just you and me?"

while the room was vaguely spinning, a sense of balance filled the air; alleviating any lingering tension or anger your drunken state tried to hold onto you. he dampened a cool washcloth, quickly cleansing your face, and easing your pulsating head. "i know it's not what you-"

"no, it's perfect." you shook your head, and aaron pulled the washcloth away a few inches, due to the unexpected movement. "i'll take as much as i can get. really. i just, miss you. a lot." your voice lowered dismally, your waterline pooling with tears.

his eyes saddened, reaching up to wipe a tear that had trickled down. "i know, i'm sorry." another sigh escaped him, reapplying the cloth to your face, "we haven't had much time for ourselves lately, at all. so, thank you."

"thank you...?"

"for suggesting this. for understanding. for putting up with me." he kissed your forehead, a solemness to his face. "what i said earlier, i didn't mean it."

"i know you didn't."

he shook his head, guilt lining his face. his next comment left him in a breath, "still not an excuse."

"i'm sorry too." you grabbed his chin, keeping his face still to press your lips to his. his eyes fluttered shut, a soft exhale escaping him as he relaxed in your touch. "we're us, we'll be okay."

he nodded, kissing you once more before getting to his feet, "again, we can discuss it all in the morning. i just didn't want you going to sleep upset, and i feel awful knowing you drank more recklessly tonight as result of me."

"no, not 'cause of you, 'cause our argument. that's two very different things y'know." your words slurred together as you squinted, the bathroom seemingly brighter now than it was a minute ago.

another kiss was pressed to your lips. "in the morning, sweetheart." he stood up to grab your toothbrush, preparing it for you as you definitely could not on your own, and supported your waist as you brushed your teeth. again, it was rushed and lazy, you probably barely scratched the surface, but better than not doing so at all.

although you were half out of it, and wicked hangover was in your future, you felt better than you had all evening. fighting with aaron wasn't common, and so it always felt oddly foreign. it just, wasn't like the two of you. you hated any tension that made itself known. but likewise, that also meant the two of you could solve anything, together.

aaron filled a glass of water, and grabbed a bottle of ibuprofen to put at your bedside for for the morning. "bed?"

you nodded, practically asleep on your toes and more than ready to be curled into his side. "bed."

[slayfics]

Katsuki breaks up with you.

1k words

Katsuki hands shook, as he let out a shaken breath. Running his hands over his face, before returning them to resting on his knees. His eyes fixated on the floor never once looking up at you.

“Katsuki, what is it?” You asked softly.

Katsuki leg shook at your question. Elbow moving to his knee as he placed his chin in his palm. Never moving his gaze.

It wasn’t a secret to you that a rift had come between you and Katsuki. The past few months he seemed to be drifting further and further away. Still, you kept your wits about you. Maintaining your same routine, loving affection, and undying patience for him.

It’s a phase, you told yourself. Even the best relationships have their ups and downs. You’d come back stronger than ever in no time, you were sure of it... But then an ominous text came.

[Katsuki] Can we talk tonight?

Now he sat on your couch in a state you’d never seen before. His eyes started to gloss over as his mouth slightly parted, still finding the right words.

“I don’t know how to say this shit,” he grumbled, and you heard the crack in his voice.

“Just tell me Kats, whatever it is we can work through it,” you said quietly.

At that, the gloss in his eyes formed into full tears. The room is so quiet the soft drops of tears seem to echo.

“You know I love you right?” he asked, glancing over slightly at you before looking at the wall. He couldn’t handle the expression on your face. You had to know it was coming. Your body looked like it was braced for a shock. Hands gripping at your seat so tight your knuckles were white.

“Of course, I love you too Katsuki…” you whispered, the lump in your throat forming. This wasn’t what you thought this was- was it?

“That’s why… I can’t lie to you anymore,” he said, wiping the tears from his face.

You had so many questions but felt paralyzed in your spot. Lie to you? What could that mean?

“It’s… not fucking fair to you and…,” Katsuki threw his head back on the couch, both hands covering his face.

“Katsuki please just tell me…”

“I’m trying,” he grumbled more tears forming, voice unrecognizable.

“Did you… find someone else?” You finally managed to ask, mouth drying out, ear ringing from the intensity in the room.

“No. I mean… not in the way you’re thinking,” Katsuki said, sitting back up.

“I don’t understand Katsuki.” You said, heart squeezing. What could he mean?

“I… fuck. Look I’ve come to some realizations recently. It’s been hard… and I…,” Katsuki broke off, legging shaking faster than before. No matter how hard he tried there just weren’t the right words for this situation.

“Please… tell me so I can be there for you,” you urged.

A final sigh left his chest deflating, “I’m not straight.”

“Oh.”

The room froze.

Your eyes darted from side to side as you processed. Katsuki stayed silent and no longer moved. 'Oh' isn’t what someone wants to hear when they come out, but he knew couldn’t expect you to be supportive when he’d just shattered your heart, the vision of your future with him. All gone.

Tears left and he didn’t care if you felt you needed space, he needed to comfort you.

“Come here,” he pulled you to him wrapping his arms around you he cradled you in his lap. “I’m sorry,” he whispered forehead pressed to you. Both of you wept.

He squeezed you and you tried to gather the thoughts racing through you. Trying to catch one and make sense of it. He’d been going through this alone for how long?

“You’ve been struggling with this alone?” you asked, hiccupping back tears.

“Don’t- don’t worry about me,” he demanded. “I just- betrayed you. Be mad at me.”

“Katsuki,” you cooed, placing a gentle hand on his face. Thumb brushing away tears. “You could never betray me by living authenticity.”

Tears flowed freely, how could you be so kind and understanding to him? He pressed a caring kiss to the top of your head. “I don’t deserve that,” he muttered.

“Of course you do.” You said silencing his self-hatred.

“You know I’d still do anything for you right? I’m not disappearing. I’m going to look out for you, the rest of my life.”

“And I’ll always be your biggest fan,” you replied resting your head on his chest.

He rocked you both, moments passed, and tears subsided.

The lingering question becomes too strong to hold back. “Is it Eijiro?” You asked.

How were you so perspective, Katsuki wondered. He didn’t answer but squeezed you tighter, “I didn’t cheat on you, I promise. I’m sorry I just… need to figure this out.”

“I wasn’t worried about that,” you said relaxing more into him, “and please stop apologizing Kats.”

He mumbled into your hair, chin resting on your head. “I hate myself for hurting you, I- never wanted to do that.”

“You could never hurt me by being happy. That’s all I ever wanted for you.” You replied.

“Don’t lie. I fucked this all up. You’ve- got to be hurting don’t hold back,” he pressed. His stomach twisted. The masochist parts of himself wanted you to hate him. It’s what he deserved for throwing away all the hard work you put into him.

“Of course, I’m hurting, and I will for a while. But- I’ll be ok. And anyway, what’s the alternative? Keeping you in a relationship you’re not satisfied with? I love you far too much to wish that for you,” you said picking up his hand to press a kiss to the back of it.

“You’re still the best thing that’s happened to me,” he whispered. “I… don’t think I could have been this honest with myself if it wasn’t for your unconditional affection. So… let me at least take care of you tonight. Make your favorite meal. Whether else you want. I owe you that much.”

“You aren’t in my debt Katsuki but, I’ll never say no to your cooking.” You answered a small smile tugging your lips.

sinners: @queenpiranhadon @unofficialsapphire @maddietries @fiannee @i-heart-carlisle @derangedmango @matchat3a @bakugouswaif @reneinii @peachsukii @pastelbakugou @abadbitchblogs @deluluforcarlos55 @b134ch-m4h-ey3z @pinkpurpledreams @that-one-fangirl69 @dreamcastgirl99 @jays-adventure3 @bythevay @my-beloved-fandoms

[buckys-wintersoldier]

Just a little bit where Lee punishes you after a party.

Pairing -> Boyfriend!Lee Bodecker x Girlfriend!Reader

Warnings -> 18+, Minors DNI, d/s relationship, dom!Lee, sub!Reader, drunk!Reader, daddy kink, punishment, ass slapping, fluff

A/N -> @lanabuckybarnes you asked for some Lee punishment, so here you are babygirl.😏🤭

You just come home from your party, drunk and giggling when you open the door to your shared apartment. Lee is sitting on the couch, his eyes immediately on you when you open the door but there is not the usual smile on his lips when he looks at you.

“Dadddyyyyy,” you say, giggling even more when you make your way through the floor to get to Lee. You’re not even walking straight but you find that even funnier. Lee raises his eyebrow, not saying anything. “You’re sooooo boring, come dance with me, dadddyyyyy.”

Lee grumbles, holding his hand out and you immediately grasp it, wanting to pull him up from the couch. But instead of getting off the couch he pulls you closer and places you with one smooth movement over his legs. You groan when his legs press into your stomach.

“Think ya funny, sweetheart?” He asks, his voice rough and you think also darker. His big hand slides over your bare thighs, pushing your skirt up and revealing your panties to him. He chuckles when you squirm, his other hand pressing on your back to hold you on his legs.

“Daddy—“ you pout, getting interrupted when Lees hand lands with a harsh slap on your bare ass. You help, eyes widen and you try to wiggle away but your boyfriend holds you in place and another harsh slap lands on your cheek. “No fair.”

“Not fair, sweetheart? Ya know what’s not fair? Goin’ out and not answerin’ daddy messages once,” he says, his hand rubbing softly over your already red ass cheeks before he lifts his hand again and brings it back down again. “Bein’ drunk, and thinkin’ daddy’s not gonna punish ya for that?”

Tears well up in your eyes, not only because your ass feels sore but also because you disappointed Lee and now he is mad. Your feelings and the alcohol make the best combination — not — and you just start crying while Lee slaps your ass a few more times.

“D—Daddy, I’m sorry,” you hiccup. Your fingers dig into the soft skin of his leg. Your tears fall down your cheeks and you sob, while your boyfriend just rubs softly over your sore ass by now.

You open your mouth, ready to apologise again but he shushes you when he helps you to get off his legs. “Come here, sit on daddy’s lap, sweetheart.”

You do as you’re told, sitting on his lap, your sore ass is causing a soft pain when it rubs over the fabric of his jeans. Your legs dangling on both sides of his, and you let yourself fall forward and against him. Your head rests against his shoulder while Lee caress your back softly, calming you down when he pushes you closer against him. Your hands are between your bodies and you feel his soft belly pressing against your hands.

You place yours hands on his stomach, massaging the soft flesh under the thin fabric of his shirt, making you sigh. Something that calms you almost immediately is next to your boyfriend in general his soft belly, you can touch it and knead it softly and it’s just so soft and fluffy.

“Do ya know why daddy had to punish ya, babygirl?” Lee asks, smiling softly when he feels your fingers digging into the flesh of his belly. You nod your head but with a soft groan from Lee you know he wants you to use your words.

“Yes, Daddy. Because I didn’t text or call you, because I’m too late at home and caused you to worry. And because I’m drunk,” you mumble, feeling more tears forming in the corner of your eyes. “A—Are you mad? D—Did I disappoint you, daddy?”

“Not mad nor disappointed, just want ya to think about the rules when ya out, sweetheart,” he tells you, his voice soft.

Lee places his hands underneath your sore ass, causing you to hiss. “Is oke, we’re goin’ to clean ya and then we take care of ya sore ass before we go to bed.”

With a soft nod you let Lee carry you through the apartment to the bathroom. “I love you, daddy. An’ I’m sorry for breaking the rules.”

“I love you, too, babygirl. It’s fine, don’t ya worry, sweetheart,” Lee assures you, kissing your forehead, then his lips trail all over your face. He chases you to giggles softly when he kisses the tears with his soft, plump lips away. Then he presses his lips softly against yours, causing you to gasp into the kiss before you place your hands around his neck to pull him even closer.

Taglist: @kandis-mom @sergeantbarnessdoll @identity2212 @km-ffluv @lunaalovesyouu @armystay89 @suz7days @etherealdisneyvillainness @pono-pura-vida @randomawesomeperson102 @rogersbarber @sebastianstanisahotmf @somnorvos @meowmeowyoongles

[mydarlingclaudia]

this is life

note : divider is from @/the-aesthetics-shop. ermm never written Chris before idk how good this is and ik it's ooc and this is way short. this wasn't in my wip game thing because I started this like 4 hours ago but I love him very much so uh here I feel scared. is it obvious I don't know how to do a good description.

wc : 1.2k

tags : @lottiies

desc : like a lover should. fluff, teeny tiny bit of angst (not really tho), established relationship, any Chris but at the end it's post re8!Chris, fem!reader, not proofread.

Chris knows the sounds of explosions and gunfire more than he knows anything else. He knows the feeling of blood-soaked clothes and heavy bulletproof vests weighing down on his chest as if they’re meant to be worn everyday. He’ll never forget the weight of a gun in his hand, won’t forget how to curl his fingers around a knife and hold it outwards, waiting for whatever is going to lunge at him from the darkness.

But Chris knows the sound of your voice, too. Knows the feeling of your skin underneath his fingertips, how your weight feels lying on top of him late at night. He loves how your hand squeezes his, how your arms wrap around his neck to hold him closer.

His apartment became yours once you stepped into his life. Your makeup is scattered across the counter in his bathroom, your clothes are in his closet, your soaps are in his shower, the smell of his cigarettes quickly mixed with the smell of your perfume. Chris loves it, really. It didn’t happen overnight, Chris wasn’t around all that much, but you always waited and showed up whenever you wanted to, he gave you a spare key for a reason.

He thinks you care about him more than you should, that you shouldn't worry about him so much and that you don't need to give him a massage every time he comes home along with an actual meal instead of whatever food was being rationed out to him on his latest mission. But you do, every single time. Chris wishes you would sleep and not stay up texting him when he tells you he's on his way home, he won't admit that seeing your endless row of texts filling his screen with news of what he's missed over the past few days never fails to make him smile.

You've always known that what Chris does is dangerous, you don't know that he fights monsters straight out of sci-fi movies, but what matters to you is that he comes home in one piece. Truth is, you love him, and he lets you. Chris isn't always the easiest to love and care for, you know there are things he doesn't tell you, but the way he holds you in the morning while he's still asleep is something else entirely.

The time that you did learn about everything he did was after the Edonia and China mess.

You thought he left you, what else were you supposed to think when he went completely radio silent for almost a year? No one seemed to know where he was, you hadn't gotten any news that he was dead, so he had to still be alive, right? You still took care of his apartment, making sure no one broke in, you were hardly back at your own place the whole time he was away, you were just hoping that a few things would be moved around the apartment whenever you came to check on it, just a hint that he was back home and hadn't told you yet.

But he went to your home the night he came back, was there to catch you when you broke down and cried about all the horrible things you thought had happened to him. At least he showered before he came to you. He sounded like a broken record, apologizing over and over again while you just clutched onto his shirt with your head buried in his shoulder.

It took you maybe an hour to calm down, he had the decency to wait for you to stop hiccuping through your tears before he explained himself. You've got every right to be mad at him, and he knows you are, but he's sure you'll nag him some other time when you're not holding onto him like a lifeline.

You probably don't even believe what he's telling you about bioweapons, you don't even know what the fuck that word really means, but it's his job to get rid of them, play exterminator. You just sat there on your bed with a confused expression the whole time, leaning on his shoulder while you sniffled softly. They're monsters, that's how he described them, like something you see in nightmares.

"So... what, like... Godzilla, or something? That's what they are?" You asked him, eyebrows still knitted together. Chris just looked at you, not really sure how to tell you that the undead weren't even in the same category as some of the things he's fought over the years.

"Yeah, kinda." He didn't need to explain further, you were too tired to comprehend the horrors mankind could make. So he let you sleep, kept you in his arms the whole night. He'd wait until tomorrow to tell you he had to keep doing this until the day he died, but he promised to not keep you waiting the next time he leaves.

—

Chris decides that years later, when you're in the kitchen, sitting across from him at the table burping a baby over your shoulder, not his, not yours, that he can't lose you. He almost lost Jill, did lose Piers and Ethan, along with countless other teammates along the line. But now he's got Ethan's baby in his house, he told you more things about his job now, he told you what happened to Ethan and that Rose would be in his care for a little bit, you had only smiled at him.

He should've married you by now. God, what kind of man was he? Dating the woman of his dreams for over a decade and never even trying to propose? He doesn't know why you let him get away with that. You've long since moved in with him, all your things were practically in his apartment by the time he asked if you just wanted to stay and not leave, took absolutely nothing to convince you.

And looking at you with Rose in your arms finally makes him realize as he's pushing fifty that he should have settled with you sooner. Maybe you just never asked because of his job, maybe you were fine with how things were.

"Did you... ever want kids?" He mumbled, avoiding your gaze and instead staring into his coffee cup. You have to think for a second, still rocking the baby in your arms back and forth.

"One would've been nice." You answer him. Shit, now he feels like he's ruined everything.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be, I'm happy we waited." Chris looked up at you, not expecting to be greeted with the smile on your face. You stand up to put Rose into her highchair so you can go get your toast from the toaster, Chris follows you after a few seconds.

"Don't know how you put up with me," His hands find their way to your waist, pressing his chest to your back and resting his head against yours. His hands are still rough from years in battle, he doesn't think he'll ever really be able to relax, but you still love to dote on him whenever you can, it makes him feel like he's meant to be here with you.

"Well, you're quite handsome." Chris smiles and presses a kiss to the side of your head, there have been mornings like this hundreds of times, he can only hope for more in the future.

"You're too good to me."

"Lucky you,"

"I know." He's got the day off, he should go buy you a ring, make things more permanent than they already are.

[unstqblecvrses]

Imagine Ghost chases reader through the woods as 'tracking practice'? 🤭

Cw; mentions of sex, mentions of marking, chased reader, mentions of noncon/dubcom.

A/n; AGHHH Ofc nonnie !!! (Thanks to @cafekitsune for dividers! ((Maybe I should just credit cafekitsune on my pinned thingy)) ) people call you love for a nickname btw

Paring; ghost x reader Ft price!

ˏ ˋ°•*⁀➷ “BRO I AM NOT DOING THAT WTH.” You scoff, rolling your eyes at price. “C’mon love, it’s jus’ up tha mountain. It’s not tha’ bad.” He rubbed the bridge of his nose. Not only are you scared of ghost, but he’s always giving you that silent death glare. And now, at 5 in the fucking morning, your captain wants you to help ghost with his tracking skills. “So you do it! Or get soap or something! Ghost doesn’t even like me!! And it’s dark as shit outside how am I supposed to navigate through that mountain!?” You argue. “You can get a week-long leave. Is that better?” You can tell he’s starting to get frustrated.

You don’t want to make price mad. He has a lot to deal with as it is. But damn! You’re uneasy when it comes to ghost and now you’re supposed to have him track you on a mountain, in the dark, alone.? “Fine..” you grit your teeth, practically fuming as you exit his office.

You shrink a bit at ghost’s rough gaze, price next to you. “Okay lovie, you’re gonna get a five-minute head start on tha mountain. Then ghost is gonna go in and search f’ya. Understood?” Price hums, watching you nod. When he starts the timer you run straight into the trees, trying to at least get far enough into the mountain to where ghost can’t get you. But when that five minutes is beyond over, and you step on a thin branch, you hear it. His heavy boots quickly navigated through the crunchy leaves and the way his rough voice called into the radio. “Target spotted.” You almost squeal as you rush through the forest, adrenaline pumping through your supple body.

Then you fucking trip, right over an exposed tree root. A choked shriek leaving your plush lips as you tumbled down a small hill, hiccuping and teary eyed as you looked behind yourself to see Simon. He looks a bit disappointed as you try and stand up, probably to run again. “stay down.” He growled, putting a foot on your back and forcing you back down, getting on top of you and taking a fistful of your hair. “G-ghost.” You hic. “Pathetic.” He whispers, taking his phone to take a photo of you. (Ghost face style) Sending it to price with the message ‘target down.’ “H-hey.. you got me so l-let me go!” You try to squirm, but he’s way too heavy. “I think you need to be taught a lesson on how to be quiet huh love?” He chuckled.

It hurts and feels so good at the same time. He was way too big to fit but he just forced his way into your tight little cunny. You try and quiet down your moans but he’s just going too fast for you to not make some noise. What are you gonna tell Price when you come back to him so late? How is he gonna feel when he sees all the pretty marks ghost assaulted your skin with? :(

[kittyclawsdolls]

rafe x sunshine!reader

TW: drug talk, alcohol consumption, throwing up, i think that’s it!

(in this the kooks and the pouges don’t hate each other, they may dislike each other tho)

imagine rafe and you are at home cuddling, rafe is on his phone texting barry about the party tonight, talking about selling. you didn’t want to go at first.

“baby, are you going to kelce’s party?” you ask looking up at him. he looks down at her. “yea. why sweets?” rafe asks with a grin at thought of making money there. “i wanna go too!” you say happily. “i thought you didn’t like parties?” rafe asks confused playing with your hair.

“well i changed my mind! i wanna be with you, and since you’re going to the party i thought i should go too!” rafe looks at you with a smile. “ok baby, we’ll leave at 7 o’clock. okay?” rafe says kissing your lips softly. “yay!! i’m going to pick out my outfit right now.” you say getting up, giggling on the way to the shared bedroom. https://pin.it/3Vimo5JxP

time skip

rafe and you are now at the party, rafe is selling drugs, you are off with sarah, john b and kie. rafe made sure to tell the 3 to watch you and make sure you don’t drink so much, that was until you, sarah and kie got super drunk and john b went off with jj and pope. you started to miss rafe and went off to find him. you saw him sitting on the couch next to top, you walked over there sitting next to him, putting your legs on his lap. rafe looks at you and smiles. “hi sweets, where’s sarah and kie?” rafe asks concerned cause they weren’t with you. “oh- i went off to find youu.. i’m glad i did! you’re so.. handsome.” you said while your hand is playing with the ends of his hair, and the other hand is holding his jaw. “how much did you drink?” rafe asks smiling at you. “i don’t know! maybe 10 shots? or 15?” you said questioning yourself. “ok lightweight.. you need to go home and sleep.” he says chuckling. “what- no- no i don’t *hiccups* need to go home! i’m fine baby.” you say surprised he would say that.

“nope don’t do that. you need to go home and sleep, c’mon let’s go.” rafe gets up and takes your hand dragging you out to the car. “but babeee! i’m fin-“ you got cut off by you throwing up. “see. you need to go home now.” he said with a straight face. “okk fine.” you grumble.

you get home, he helps you out the car and picks you up princess style (cuz you’re a princess). you are dead asleep, he puts you in bed. he grabs makeup wipes and wipes of your makeup, then does your skincare. he grabs a nightgown and your favorite stuff animal. he changes you, then tucks you in. he changes and then gets into bed

the next morning you wake up confused and rafe is beside you watching tv. he looks at you and kisses your forehead. “you drank to much last night baby.”

“i can tell. my head hurts like hell.” you say mad. you got up and brushed your teeth. then went back into bed. “you want breakfast?” rafe asks knowing your hungry. “yes please!” you mumble into the pillow. “ok sweetheart.” rafe leaves to make your food.

☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽

I HOPE YOU LIKE IT!!

[ghost-bxrd]

hope you feel better soon wrote some haapy batfam i hope will cheer you up..

-----

"This is going to be the best prank in the history of pranks." Wally snickered, watching Dick pour out the windex from the bottle. "I know, I know. You have to stay hidden while you record it though. I don't want B to see you." Once all the windex was out, Dick started filling the bottle with water and then pouring it out, making sure it was really clean. "He's going to get so mad, you know that right?" Wallu was fiddling with the video camera he found. It got way better quality videos than any other regular camera, so when wally and Dick would watch back the footage after, it would be more like a movie.

"Yeah, I know. But, it'll be so worth it in the end. Okay, we're ready!" Dick exclaimed after pouring in the blue Gatorade. Wally was literally vibrating with excitement as he followed Dick into the Cave. Bruce would be back in about 5 minutes, and he had told Dick to wait in the cave for him so they could work on a suit upgrade. Wally raced to hide behind one of the unfinished suits turning on the video camera and trying to hold in his laughter. Dick took out his phone and scrolled through Tumblr, liking about every post complimenting Nightwing. Bruce strolled in casually, wearing a very formal suit and black sunglasses. Hed just arriced from dealing with bruce wayne things "Ready to get to work?" He asked, pulling the sunglasses off to look Dick in the eyes. "Sure, lemme just get a quick drink." Dick murmured, and Bruce waited patiently as Dick walked over to the workbench where there was the windex bottle.

Wally was almost choking on his muffled laughter, trying to hold the camera straight. Dick unscrewed the top of the bottle, and Bruce tilted his head to the side, obviously confused. Dick tilted the bottle back and drank the Gatorade, successfully hiding his large smile.

A moment passed.

Bruce lunged at Dick and almost knocked the bottle out of his hands. "Dick That's poisonous! You know that" Bruce was rightfully horrified, attempting to grab the bottle away. Dick was pulling it back, and managed to get another sip in. "Dick, STOP! What  is wrong with you? Did you get gassed... mind controlled?" Bruce was trying his best to analyse but it was getting a little hard to stop his voice was from shaking. Was the kid TRYING to kill himself? He tried to channel his batman persona but a situation like this called for bruce the dad not batman the knight.

"It's good!" Dick pointed out, taking another sip of it. Bruce ripped the bottle out of his hands and poured it all on the floor, not even caring about the mess. Alfred could clean it up later. Why had dick done thia? Out of all his children hed expect eithier tim or Jason to be the one to deliberarley injest poision not Dick. "Dick! We have to get you to the Medbay now! I cannot believe you just did that. We have to get your stomach pumped, and you must be drunk or something to think that Windex is able to be consumed by humans." Bruce or was it batman growled, pulling Dick toward the door before Wally burst out laughing, and so did Dick "O-Oh my god, I cannot! That was so much better than even I could imagine!" Wally choked out between laughs, and Dick was rolling on the floor laughing. What is going on?" Bruce demanded That only made him laugh harder and Wally stopped filming, setting the camera on the workbench. "It was a prank, old man! There's Gatorade in the bottle, not Windex." Dick explained, motioning to the spilled liquid on the floor. That was when it made sense.

Dick recieved the infamout Batglare.

Dick stood up and sat on the couch, hiccupping with laughter still. Wally sat beside him and they high fived, laughing. "You're going to give me gray hairs. Im telling Alfred"

"Sorry, B but it was just too funny of an idea to pass up." Dick had stopped laughing, but still had a bright smile on his face. 

"No Cereal for a Month Master Dick" Alfred announced from upstairs.

Dick looked horrified.

Wally started laughing again, and fell off the couch.

Omg yesssss peak humor!!! Unfounded fears and gremlin Robin!!!! This made me grin so hard thank you so much 💚💚💚💚

I can just see Bruce’s “no thoughts, head empty” look when he sees Dick drink the windex. And then scene computes. And he’s like that terrified pet owner who just saw his beloved companion swallow plastic and is just trying to pry his jaw open, yelling “WHATCHA GOT IN YOUR MOUTH!?” And “SPIT IT OUT RIGHT NOW!!!!”

Bruce totally has five more gray hairs after this ordeal 😭🤣

[abbysbitch]

mean!dom abby

moans so loud

a/n: thank u anon, again sorry for how long this took me to get out. when i see mean i go crazy. also this is all lowercase (i'm putting this bc ik ppl get mad sometimes) hope u enjoy :)

wc: 1.6k (god im sorry lmfao)

cw: brat tamer abby, name calling (whore, stupid slut, brat, princess, pretty girl), pussy slapping, face slapping, cunnilingus, use of strap on, use of mommy kink, tiniest bit of a breeding kink.

you had been out all night with abby and happened to get a little tipsy. oblivious to you the alcohol made you extremely flirtatious towards everyone, and she wasn't having one bit of it.

abby had found you dancing a little too close to manny for her liking- and knowing him she wanted you out. asap.

grabbing you in by your waist from behind, she spins you around, way too fast for how much you had drank, leaving you all ditzy and disoriented.

"o-oh, hey abby," you hiccup between slurred words. "whatcha doin'?" you look up at her with pupils the size of the moon and she almost felt bad. Almost.

"how much have you had to drink babe?" she asks, looking at your red solo cup that has the smallest amount of liquor left in it. 'uhh-um, not toooo much," you reply, lids droopy and mouth wet from the drink you just sipped.

"oh yeah? not too much but you're rubbing all up on manny like you aren't mine?" she whispers in your ear, making you all dizzy- anticipating what was next as your clenched your thighs close.

shaking her head, abby takes the solo cup out of your hand and dumps it out onto the floor. "what th- what the fuck abby? i wasn't done with that!" and with a grab way too firm to be lovingly, she holds your wrist and drags you towards the doors of the small building.

"we're leaving," and before you could say anything she continues,

"and keep your little mouth shut from here on out. wouldn't want any more punishment than you're already getting, would you pretty girl?"

���────༺༻──━───༺༻────

the walk back to her house was silent and you were fiening with anticipation. you loved it when abby got like this, all possessive and mean, but especially now when your want was fueled by the alcohol in your system- legs wobbling and heat all throughout your body. not to mention how god awfully wet you were the entire way back.

her hold on you was still tight, probably bruising by now, making your skin all sensitive to the touch. reaching her house, she quickly opens the door and escorts you inside.

"bedroom, now. want you all ready for me, okay?" she goes, and with a nod you turn down the hall into her bedroom. sitting on the floor you undress, everything off except for your panties and bra. When she would get in these moods she'd always want you in the same position, on your knees in front of the bed. waiting for her made you whine silently in need, rubbing your thighs against one another, trying to calm the fire that's slowly growing inside you.

abby walks into the bedroom, seeing you in your place she hums in contentment, and takes her own right in front of you. "think my girls been a little bad today, what would you say, hm?" she says in a falsely comforting tone. "'m sorry abby, let me make it up to you." you say, pouting.

"you'll make it up to me, huh." she replies with a condescending tone as she grips your face, hand taking purchase on your chin, tilting you upwards slightly. "i don't think you're really sorry, though." she mocks. "open your mouth baby," she goes and you obey, opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out. she bends over slightly, getting closer to you and spits, a long glob of saliva going straight into your mouth. she takes your chin again and closes your mouth for you, watching as you swallow.

"if only you were this good and obedient all the time," she starts, leaning down even more to get closer to your lips, barely brushing against them, making you lean closer to try and capture them in yours, but she pulls back immediately. "but you have to go out and be a dumb little whore when i'm not around, don't you?" and you drop your head in embarrassment.

"abby, i said 'm sorry, i didn't mean to" you respond, but she quickly grabs your hair, yanking it to make you hold her gaze.

"i never asked for a response, did i?" she sternly demands, leaving you to shake your head towards her.

"what's the safeword?" she says and you quietly go,

"red."

"good girl."

━────༺༻──━───༺༻────

now, abby has you pinned underneath her, arms caging you in so all you can see is her and her fake cock absolutely drilling into you, the room filled with the sounds of your combined panting and the slick sounds your cunts making as she fucks into you at an unfathomably fast pace.

"abby, fuck- 's too much," you whine as your grab onto her biceps, digging crescent moons into the skin. "awh, i thought you wanted more?" she imitates, making a point to brush up against your clit with every thrust causing you to let out a strangled moan.

"since you've been such a brat tonight, don't you think you deserve it?" she goes on, and when you whine instead of responding with words she harshly grabs your face and says "answer me." but when you take too long to answer she slaps you, not too hard but enough to bring you back and say, "'m sorry abby, yes i deserve it- shiiiit." and you continue to blabble incoherent sentences as she keeps her assault on your guts.

"suckin' me so deep," she presses on your lower stomach, "can feel you up here huh? does it feel good baby?" and you can. feel her so far inside you it doesn't feel real. "gonna fuckin' fill you up, swear to god," she goes and you moan even louder at the thought of her filling you up- you know she can't but god do you wish she can in this moment.

"more abby- more-" you start but before you can say more you're cut off by her stopping completely, sliding out of you in one go with a groan. "you're so fuckin' greedy baby, if you want it so bad, beg." she spits, cupping your leaking pussy and god- she might break at the sight.

"please mommy, i need it sooo bad, god please fuck me," you sniffle, and at the name you called her she slaps your cunt, causing you to yelp before she dips down and kisses your clit sweetly. "good job, that wasn't so hard now was it princess?" and she comes back up to nip at your jaw and neck, and finally kisses you as she slides back in with no resistance, moaning with you at the feeling of your cunt swallowing her dick, entirely.

your lips practically eating eachother whole, the scene could fit right into a porno, god it was so erotic. tongues fighting for dominance against one another, and teeth clashing in a mess of saliva that was dripping down from your chin and to your neck.

she picks up her pace after a couple thrusts and you're already so dumb off her cock- even though you had just had it mere seconds before. "fu-fuck mommy, feels s'good" you whine nonsensically, feeling your core tighten with each thrust of her hips and brush of her strap against your clit.

"yeah, it feels good huh baby?" and when you don't respond she continues, "you're such a stupid slut all on my cock aren't you? taking me so fucking good, my stupid- stupid fucking slut." she punctuates the nickname with thrusts that hit sooo deep you see stars.

she lifts up your hips with one arm and takes a pillow from the bed- putting it underneath you to hit a deeper spot. you whine between thrusts at the new position and say "want you to fill me up, mommy- need it bad." and she stills for a second at the confession, and fucks into you even harder.

"yeah? want mommy to fill you up with her cum?" she grunts and all you can respond with are whimpers and sobs of her name, mommy and strings of curses.

with the way the strap was secured to her body, she was getting just the right amount of friction from fucking you that she was close too. moans and grunts spilled from her mouth along with praises to you as she fucked into you harder- and somehow deeper. her want took over and she was pounding you- no, she was rearranging your guts.

your cunt spasming against her dick as your high comes closer, oh ever so closer, you being unaware but abby- oh she knows. she can feel every clench of your pussy against her, every drag against your walls and every spill of your juices all on her. "gonna cum for me?" she goes and with your nod she's already dropping down to your ear, nipping the skin and whispering "yeah, cum with me, cum all over mommys fucking cock."

It hits you like a train, stars appearing in your vision- if you could even see at this point, cunt simultaneously pulsing with your clit around abby, mouth wide open but no sounds coming out and arching your back so hard it could snap in half. abby slows her hips, as she reaches her high at the same time, letting you both ride out as much of your orgasms as you can, and when you finally come back to she slowly slides out of you with a curse from her mouth and a whimper from yours.

"think you learned your lesson, baby?" she says as she takes off the harness and lies down next to you, grabbing your naked form and holding it against her while rubbing circles on your hips.

"yeah, i think so." you slur, still in the aftershock of your orgasm, being barely able to form words.

"lets go get cleaned up, okay?" she says sweetly as she kisses your forehead, nose and then lips, and you just respond with an "okay".

━────༺༻──━───༺༻────

[oncewhenalongtimeago]

The Jealous One pt 4

Pairing: Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III x Fem!Reader

Words: 1515

Hiccup is passive aggressive. You’re mad. He doesn’t do anything about it (yet).

Tags: fem!reader, silly, ambiguous timeline, Snotlout Jorgenson, Ruffnut and Tuffnut Thorston, Jealous!Hiccup, Post RoB/DoB, Pre-RTTE

<Previous - Next>

“I don’t think Snotlout realizes he can like Ruffnut yet, but Fishlegs definitely likes Ruffnut,” You said confidently, pulling up pond weeds with your hands.

Your trousers were rolled up to your ankles, one side of your skirt tucked into your waistband as your toes dug into the silt close to the shore.

Hiccup was beside you, wading in a similar fashion, although it was a bit difficult to hike up both his pantslegs when one was otherwise occupied with his prosthetic. 

The trees were incredibly tall around you, enough to block out all light around the pond. Just a few beams filtered through the topmost leaves, filling the forest floor with a heady yellow glow, mites and other things filtering through them, dancing like fairies to a tune only they knew, lighting up the dark waters.

Behind you was an old, abandoned dock, small and molded and falling apart, and besides that, a bucket which you used to toss aside weeds. 

Indeed, you were deep, deep in the forests around Berk, where only mystical and mysterious things ever seemed to happen.

“Really-?” Hiccup asked, voice high as his spirits seemed to be, “There’s a large one to your left.” 

He indicated with a nod as you glanced over towards him, once again dipping your arms with your rolled-up sleeves into the water, sifting around until you found what he was motioning towards. 

A long, dark-green frond of something which pulled easily from the mix below.

“...Is this what you and Fishlegs were talking about before?” You asked, also noticeably, to yourself, a lot less gloomy. You too had been feeling high of spirits, enough to make you feel as if you had broken your old moping patterns, “The weeds.”

It was a pleasant surprise, when Hiccup had come to you asking for help picking weeds from the water.

You wondered which plant was the subject of his interest or his ire now? What plant had the dragons been interacting with this time, to pull his attention? Was it the Rush, or the Pendula? Maybe another plant, one that ended up being from the forest floor instead? 

You felt bad still, for not meeting him by the Great Hall.

You knew he wouldn’t be able to tell the difference between them, the same way he thought most skulls looked the same.

“Not really?” Hiccup tried, rubbing his hand down his shirt before ruffling the hair at the back of his own head as he tossed a long bunch of wet weeds back, the water sloshing around his ankles, artificial and otherwise, “Not specifically.”

“Specifically?” You took a moment to stare at him with your eyebrow raised.

“Barf and Belch.”

You hummed casually, though you had your ears perked.

You didn’t care at all to keep track of the Twins’ dragons so this was news to you.

“Belch hasn’t been able to fly straight with his other head in a while. Not always, but they’ve been sneaking off to who-knows-where. In short, we think he’s hallucinating. He had… Something, in his teeth. He was hanging around the water the last time- he was dripping wet. Not salt water. Tuffnut… tested that.”

You winced at the mention, “-So you think whatever it was that caused him to act stupid’s been floating around in one of these ponds.”

“Right,” Hiccup nodded.

“Sounds easy enough,” You nodded in return.

“Yeah, so…” Hiccup tried, half-joking in a way that made the invisible hairs on your back prickle, alert, “I’ve been… Meaning to ask. What’s been going on with you and Snotlout? And the others? I’m pretty sure the Jorgensons are getting ready for the two of you to get married.”

“I’d hope not,” You rolled your eyes at him wearily, beginning the slow slog back to the docks behind you, legs pushing through murky water. You were half afraid it would end up making you sick, “I wouldn’t marry him.”

Really, though, why did he care?

“So… You’re not interested in him?”

“Never,” You scoffed, “Not in a million years.”

You were glad that he wasn’t angry- he didn’t seem it, anyways, not at you for accidentally ditching him… if he remembered anything about your plans at all. You didn’t want to bring it up in case he did and that reminded him of anything, pulling up memories like a sharp tripwire. Some things were better off just left unspoken.

You still felt bad, though.

He finally sat down to pull up his own prosthetic, tugging aside the soggy pants leg just above, stitched to cover his stump like a sock.

“Well, that’s not what everyone else thinks,” He said as he turned away, moving continuously with a certain lilt to his voice that made it sound sort of final.

Tuffnut and Snotlout and Ruffnut usually said the same in a voice that seemed more sing-song, though you were certain Hiccup couldn’t ever hold that sort of tone without it sounding weird, or out of place.

“What are you getting at?” You sniped, stomach dropping, “Are you feeling fine? You’re not mad, are you? About before?”

Hiccup’s shoulder’s seemed to jump, nose wrinkling as he grimaced.

“Yup, great… You left me behind, remember,” Hiccup said sarcastically, drily, “So, you know, I’m feeling so warm and fuzzy and loved. So, how are you, by the way? I never really got an explanation for that.”

You grimaced, resisting the urge to bristle at that, knowing in half that he was just baiting you. 

You finished pulling up your boot, stuffing your pants leg into the fur lining, feeling incredulous.

You finally understood what it meant for the others, when they said they were annoyed by Hiccup. His sarcasm didn’t seem so funny when you were on the other end of it.

Now you just felt bitter and annoyed.

Pot-kettle. 

Well, if he wanted something to scoff at then he’d get something to scoff at.

“Oh, thank you,” You nodded sarcastically, hand braced against your knee, in an action that was more Astrid-like than you would have preferred it to be, “I’m great.”

Hiccup scoffed again, and you felt another spike of irritation in your chest that you weren’t inclined to smother.

Instead, you yanked on the handle of the bucket, tugging it upwards and nearly wrenching your arm with the force of it, and the weight of the bucket, made heavier by the plants and water inside, and dumped it over his head.

“I-uh, ah-ha!” His voice started normal but hitting a higher nasal as it peaked, the contents of the bucket dumping over his face and pasting his hair to his cheeks, water-darkened and tangled with pond plants.

Hiccup stopped for a second, choking on his spit, looking at you incredulously, astonished and definitely upset. 

How things could have gone so sour so fast was lost on you.

You glared at him, “Having fun picking that up all on your own.”

Then you marched off, kicking back through the undergrowth as you made it your mission to get as far away as possible.

“You messed up, dude,” Tuffnut spoke with faux wisdom, with words supposed to trigger something in you like you cared at all what he thought, or agreed that somehow in some way he might have known better.

Twins had a certain air about them. They took themselves more seriously than anything else, a level of self-involvement that made it seem like their words had merit whenever they said things of the soul-searching. Most people put their advice above all others, some even vyed it, not that the Twins would ever help anyone on purpose.

You thought they were just stupid.

You’d long since ceased to be fond of it.

It was obvious he had no idea what he was talking about, and it just made you mad.

You missed when you were miserable, because it made everything else feel duller.

“Yeah, well, how do you think I felt?” You asked, incensed, “After he spent all that time blowing me off to hang out with you guys?”

You shouted frustratedly, a nonsensical thing, as you grabbed at the air.

“It was well something well deserved and if he can’t pull his head out of his- if he can’t pull your helmet horns out of his ass long enough to see it then I don’t need it-! You-! Him. The whole lot of you!” You snarked, feeling incredibly hostile as you marched off for the second time that day.

Hiccup stood, rubbing his chin with his hand, leaning against the wooden side of a hut feeling slightly stressed.

He’d… Overheard your shouting.

You’d seemed fine, but then again, your fine was kind of… not. He thought you’d have found someone else to hang out with. 

It hadn’t seemed like that big of a deal at the time. He’d always talked about wanting to be friends with the others, and you’d never said anything against it. You hadn’t. But he got it now. The shoe was on the other… prosthetic.

It was all karma.

He really did mess up, didn’t he?

[blakelysco-pilot]

As Long as You Follow

Beat Me, Daddy, Eight To The Bar: Part Five

Everett Blakely x Valencia DiRosano (OC)

Relationships of any kind during wartime are sometimes more important than mission briefings or making sure there’s enough donuts for the boys. When misunderstandings put them to the test, the least likely of the bunch to keep a level head ends up being the one to see them all through. All it takes is a bit of time. And some good humor.

Part Four Follow along with the Eight To the Bar Playlist

What’s that expression? What goes up, must come down. That one, not always pertaining to tossing something up in the air and waiting for gravity to ultimately pull it back to its rightful place, but emotions too. Temperatures, and the trickiest of them all, feelings. Feelings seemed to be the biggest culprit, running both hot and cold, I love you no I hate you. And the crash? The crash always came after you felt like you were floating on cloud nine. And it always came out of nowhere. 

It had been the perfect ending to what Val would call her worst day in England so far. Her friends were all safe, Curt and his crew included, and if she had to give it a name she’d say she was well on her way to being in love with Everett Blakely. He had given her the smallest taste of how he felt for her in his actions alone that night. Showering her in affection, never once asking for anything in return for all he had given her as they hid from the world- and the air raid- in the mess kitchen. Reminding her that he would continue to be a safe haven for her so long as she’d allow him. When Olive burst through the doors of the Red Cross hut after Val had come back, crying and looking like she had just lost everything, well, it proved the old saying right no matter how bad Val wanted to ignore it. The only question was who had made her cry the way she was; Benny or Douglass. She didn’t need specifics, what she needed was to make sure her friend was alright. As Val and Helen set about helping Olive get ready for bed, one with a soft hand to take off her makeup and wipe her tears, the other with a kind ear and shoulder, they had found out that it was James Douglass. 

“Deep breath Chickie, and tell us what happened.” Val had wrapped Olive in a hug, the pair sitting on her bed as she waited for the sniffling to die down. Helen had joined them, taking up the empty spot on Olive’s other side. 

“When we were walking back,” She hiccupped, hands wiping at her eyes furiously. “Benny, he told me that he knew when to bow out. He saw how Dougie and I looked at each other.”

“So then why is Doug mad?” Helen’s eyebrow raised, and Val could tell that the other woman was slowly starting to see where this was heading. 

“He saw me hug Benny, it was all friendly! Benny even said he sees me as a sister! And Dougie, he…” The tears had started again, but both girls knew what she was trying to say. 

“Doug saw the two of you.” Helen finished for her. 

“He’s so…” Olive gestures with her hands, trying to pick the right word. “Angry.”

“Oh, honey,” Val sighs, stroking Olive’s hand. “Don’t let it worry you. He was probably just drunk and not thinking straight.” Olive nods, in unison with Helen, 

“He’ll be fine by the morning,” Helen replied with a sweet smile. “He’s going to see you in that truck and he’ll forget he was ever angry the second he sees your pretty smile, mkay?”

“Exactly, it’ll all be alright. You’ll see.” Val grinned, and began helping Olive get ready for bed. Armed with a jar of cold cream, she set about taking her friend’s makeup off while Helen unpinned her hair and tied it up in a scarf for her, so that she could sleep comfortably. 

It was not alright. 

Everett is first at the truck the next morning, eyes sparkling as he spots Val hurrying over towards him. She greets him with a chaste kiss, one that has John Egan rolling his eyes as he stops for his morning coffee at the window Tattie is occupying. 

“Morning ladies.” Ev turns to greet the rest of the Clubmobile once he’s satisfied that he’d given Val a proper hello. 

“Morning Blakely,” Olive greets, placing two cups down on the ledge in front of him. “One for you, and the other is for Dougie.” “I don’t think coffee is gonna make it up to him, Olive,” he says, the furrow in his brow eerily similar to the one that Val makes almost daily. “He’s really upset.” “I wish he’d just listen to me,” She urges, her head pounding due to lack of sleep and dehydration. “If you could get him to–” “I’m staying out of it,” Everett responds, taking the cup on the right. “It’s none of my business if he wants to forgive you or not.” “I didn’t do anything!” Val can tell that just the discussion of it is causing Olive to get hot under the collar. Her eyes are beginning to water, and she looks like she might burst into tears at any moment. 

“Honey,” Val coos, intervening before anything escalates further. “Olive really didn’t do anything. Her and Benny were only talking.”

“She’s your friend, Val. Of course you’re taking her side.” He sighs, and then turns from his girlfriend back to Olive. “You led my friend on and I’m not okay with that.”

“Ev!” Val half shouts, following him as he begins to depart. 

She catches up to him just outside the equipment hut, his hand on the handle of the door, he’s surprised when she pushes the door shut on him, stopping him from entering. 

“What the hell, Val!”

“First of all, you walked away without so much as a goodbye, Everett,” She starts, shoulder leaning against the door to stop him from going in, arms crossed over her chest. “Second, I don’t understand why you won’t even listen to Olive.”

“Honey, I really don’t want to fight,” He sighs, dropping his hand to her waist to try and coax her closer. “We had such a nice night, I don’t want to ruin the morning.’ 

“No one’s ruining anything.”

“I’m sorry I walked away without saying goodbye…”

“Go on…’

“Go on, what? I’m sorry for not saying goodbye.”

“You’re not sorry for almost making Olive cry?”

“Val, this is between her and Doug, and apparently still Benny.”

“Oh my god, you’re just as stubborn as your damn friend!”

“Don’t yell at me, I didn’t start this fight…” He stressed. 

“No, that one’s on James Douglass.” She practically  growled, pushing off the door and turning to head back to the truck.

“Now who’s not saying goodbye!” Everett called after her. 

Val turned on her heel, stopping just long enough to see the uncertain look on his face, and hating every second of it. But she’d defend Olive, because that’s what friends did. Everett was doing it for Dougie, but that didn’t mean she liked it. Still, the idea of sending him up to fly without a goodbye; not something she would do. 

“Fly safe, please.” She called out to him, her eyes softening just enough for him to see she genuinely meant it. “I’ll see you when you get back.”

She just caught his grin as he pulled the door to the equipment hut open, before she turned to join the girls back at the Clubmobile. 

The remainder of the day had all of them in a funk. Olive was sad, Val was trying to stave off her anger and Helen and Tattie just wanted their friends to feel better. Just A Snappin had returned from its practice mission without a scratch, and Val had felt a surge of relief when Everett, accompanied by Croz, wandered up to the truck. Croz still looked a bit green around the gills, so when she tossed him a pack of gum from the open hatch, he eagerly accepted. Waving his thanks, he made his way to the equipment hut to drop off his gear, knowing that Ev needed a minute alone with Val after he had overheard the pilot and bombardier discussing their respective sweethearts that morning. 

“Hey…” Ev looked sheepishly up at Val, hazel eyes squinting in the late afternoon sun. 

“Hi…” Val dropped the rag she was using to wipe down the counter, dusting her hands off before jerking her head towards the back of the truck. When Ev nodded and moved to join her, she thought that maybe, this morning's event could be put behind them. 

She quickly descended the three steps, joining Ev on the grass, but not moving any further for fear he was still upset. 

“I’m sorry,” He spoke before she could get the words out. “I don’t want to argue with you, and I sure as hell don’t like it.”

“I don’t like it either,” Val sighed, taking his hands in hers. “I just… I know we both feel differently about this. But it’s also not our fight to be having.”

“Doug is real hurt.”

“So is Olive. Though to be fair, Dougie isn’t even giving her a chance to explain.”

“What’s to explain? He saw her with Benny.”

“You think he was able to tell what he really saw? It was dark and he had a few too many in him!” She could feel herself getting heated again, her eyes turning sharp, brow pinched. 

“He saw her with Benny! And Benny is just as bad,” Ev practically spat. “He knew Dougie had feelings for her and he cashed in on that stupid bike race.”

“I’m not doing this again!” Val pulled her hands back. 

“Doing what? Tell me Dougie is wrong?”

“Argue with you!” She turned, making her way back up the steps and into the Clubmobile, and Everett couldn’t be sure, but it sounded like she was speaking Italian under her breath. If she didn’t want him knowing what she was saying, it couldn’t have been good. 

“Val!” 

Helen appeared in the window, a sad smile on her face directed at him, and he knew he wasn’t apologizing his way out of this one. 

“Give her some time to cool off, Ev.”

“Just, tell her I’m sorry. Again.”

“I will, don’t worry.” Helen nodded, watching as he walked off in the same direction Croz had gone earlier. 

Just as Helen was about to turn and check on Valencia, she heard Olive shouting for Dougie as he passed. All three women in the truck held their breath, Tattie watching from the back door while Val and Helen remained in the truck. 

“He looks like shit…” Tattie whispered back to them. 

“What!”

“Like he hasn’t slept since this whole thing started.”

“Yea well, neither has she.” Val pointed out, Tattie and Helen nodding along in agreement just as they hear both Olive and Doug’s voices start to carry. 

“Dougie, can we please talk?” Val and Helen are now watching from the hatch windows, eyes wide in curiosity. “I have nothing to say to you. Save it for DeMarco.” Douglass’s words cut across to her, and the girls can all see Olive trying to maintain her composure, not wanting a repeat of this morning. “I'd like to exp–” She starts, but he cuts her off. “No need. I thought we were…” He sighs, a harsh breath pushing through his nostrils as he stops. “I don’t have time for this.” “Find time, James. Nothing is going on between Benny and I. We are just friends!” Olive stresses. “That’s not what it looked like last night,” He sighs, his shoulders dropping. The girls all see Olive’s eyes grow misty at his tone.

“If you’d just listen to me for one damn minute,” She urges, trying to hold back the tears. It makes her voice squeak, the effort of keeping it in causing her chest to tighten, her neck straining with it all, too. 

“No,” he says simply, and walks away. 

They’re all out of the truck like a shot as Olive returns. The tears are now freely flowing, and it takes every ounce of restraint on Val’s part not to go after Dougie for making her cry. Again.  

“Oh, darling, he’s not worth it,” Tattie is first at her side in consolation. Reaching into her pocket she pulls out her hip flask. With a quick glance to make sure Chick isn’t around to see, she hands it over to Olive. “Now drink, it’ll calm your nerves.”

Olive does as she’s told, wincing as the whiskey works its way down her throat. Tattie lights two cigarettes, passing one to her, hand falling to her back softly as she tries to sooth her. 

“Now,” She says, her eyes softening, though her words come out with the authority she’s known for. “Are you coming to the club tonight?”

Olive shakes her head with a deep sign, leaning against the truck and taking a deep drag of the cigarette. 

“No, I’m just going to clean up and go to bed. I don’t have it in me to socialize tonight.

“Well, you let us know. You know we’re gonna look after you.” Val is on her other side, her own cigarette between her fingers as she works to settle her own nerves. 

Olive gives a half hearted reply, stopping when she feels Meatball at her feet sniffing around. Benny is of course, right behind him with a kind smile, his preempted happiness at seeing his friend faltering as he takes in her appearance, and all of the girls around her. He’s worried, naturally, but they all reassure him that they’ve got it under control, and should they need him, they’ll give a holler. Val can tell that Benny is distraught over seeing Olive so sad, and she knows he feels partially responsible, so after he says his goodbye to Olive and the rest of them, Val beckons him over to the side, her voice low, though she knows that what she’s about to say no one passing by will understand anyway. 

“Benny, so che sei preoccupato, ma per favore non provare a parlare con Douglass.” Benny, I know you’re worried, but please don’t try and talk to Douglass.

“Lo so, non farà che peggiorare le cose, ma in parte è colpa mia.” I know, it will only make it worse, but this is partly my fault.

“Non è colpa tua. Douglass è testardo.” It is not your fault. Douglass is stubborn.

“Fatemi sapere se ha bisogno di qualcosa. Anche tu, se è per questo. Ho sentito te ed Everett stamattina.” Let me know if she needs anything. You too, for that matter. I heard you and Everett this morning. 

“Staremo bene, mi prenderò cura di lei.” We'll be fine, I'll take care of her. 

Val was acutely aware of three pairs of eyes on them as she spoke to Benny, but she knew that he would understand, and she didn’t want to keep beating a dead horse in front of Olive. The poor girl was worked up enough as it is, so to hear them continue to discuss the arguments being carried between them and the boys, would only upset her more. So, she kept it quiet in her own way, and would do what she could to protect her friend, and lift her spirits. 

That  night in the club it’s just Val, Helen and Tattie. It feels like they’re missing a big piece of the puzzle without Olive there with them, and it brings down the mood substantially. Not to mention that Douglass is sticking close to Hambone, and Ev, try as he might, wasn’t getting much out of Val. She had accepted the drink he had gotten her when they arrived at the club, and she had thanked him with a kiss to the cheek the same way she had that night a few weeks ago when he had spotted her giving Curt the what for. Before they had become officially Everett and Valencia and were still toeing the line between flirty friends and a couple. Val hated it. She missed sitting on his lap at their table, the smell of his aftershave as she pushed her nose against his neck as they danced, the feel of his hands on her waist as he twirled her around. Glancing over her shoulder, she spots him at the bar with Brady and Crank looking, for lack of a better word, less than invested in the discussion that the other two pilots were currently having. Sparring him another glance, green eyes focused but trying not to be obvious, she completely misses Curt taking the seat next to her. 

“Alright, what the hell did I miss? Where’s Olive?” He announces his arrival in a flurry of questions, as you do when your name is Curt Biddick. 

“Olive’s in bed.” Val turns to him in reply. 

“Is she sick?”

“Not sick, just,” Val takes a breath, wondering just how much Curt knows, and if Everett had divulged anything to him upon his arrival back at base. “Not feeling very social tonight.”

“Well, I know yous all missed me but, you can perk up now, ladies!” He joked, and Val knew he didn’t really know anything of what had gone on that day. 

“We did miss you, Curt, but it’s more than that.” 

“Well, how about ya give your old friend a dance and fill me in, hmm?” 

He was holding a hand out to her, and she knew that if she denied him, he’d be on her in a fury of more questions and worries. So, with a forced smile, she obliged Curt his dance and let him lead her out to the dance floor as the band slowed down a bit. 

Keeping his hands above the waist and in a respectable way, lest his mother come to England and give him a smack for anything more than that, he began to sway them gently, his eyes finding hers. 

“So, why are ya giving me a dance when Blakely is all alone at the bar looking like someone kicked his dog?”

“We’re not exactly seeing eye to eye right now.” She sighed. 

“What happened?”

“Well, long story short, you missed a spectacular bike race in the mess hall last night. Benny and Dougie had a bet. Winner walks Olive back to the hut.”

“DeMarco won, didn’t he,” It was not a question. “Is that why Doug is practically up Hambone’s rear end and Olive’s in bed?” 

“Benny won,” She confirmed. “So he walked her back, and according to Olive, he told her that he was bowing out. He sees her as a sister and wanted to be friends, but Dougie had a few in him and saw her hug him.”

“So now he’s all pissy, and lemme guess. Blakely’s on his side so now you and him are at odds.”

“You know, after the war, you could go into psychology.”

“Doctor Biddick at your service!”

“Gross, no. I take it back, it sounds yucky.” Val scrunched up her face, causing Curt to bark out a laugh. It drew the attention of Ev at the bar, and had she been dancing with anyone else, she’d be worried, simply because of the current argument at hand. 

“You want my opinion or nah?” Curt pulled her attention back to him just as the song began to wind down. 

“You’re going to give it to me anyway,:” She shook her head, letting him lead her to the bar for a drink. “So let’s hear it.”

He stopped walking just as they reached Everett, Curt giving her a gentle nudge in his direction. 

“Stop the fightin’ the both of yous,” He looked at Everett, then back to her. “And give your gal a dance, Blakely.” 

He left them at the bar without another word, wandering over to where the Major’s were congregated at the other end, Bucky and Gale pulling him into whatever conversation they were having. 

“He’s right…” Everett conceded, taking her hand and leading her away from the bar. 

“Don’t let him hear you say that.” She glanced up at him, eyes twinkling, letting him know that she was done being upset. 

“Let’s put this aside, even if it’s just for right now. Come dance with me?”

“Yea, okay,” He led her to the dance floor, finding an open space before pulling her close, her eyes fluttering closed in delight as he held her. “Missed you today.”

“Missed you more, honey.” His lips pressed against her temple, letting her know that he meant it. 

“Is it bad that I want to lock them both in a room until they sort it out?”

“We can’t do that,” Ev chuckled. “It wouldn’t be fair.”

“To who?”

“Either of them.” He assured her. 

“And what about us?” She inquired, thumb stroking over his cheekbone. “Is it fair for us to argue too?”

“No, it’s not fair, but-”

“No buts,” She cut him off. “Just listen, please.”

“What she did was not okay, Val. Besides, isn’t Doug your friend too?”

She pulled away from him as if he had burned her, stepping back mid dance and putting enough distance between them that he wouldn’t be able to pull her back. 

“Of course he’s my friend!” She hissed, trying not to disturb the other couples on the dance floor. “But that doesn’t make him any less capable of making a mistake, Ev!”

“So you’re admitting he’s wrong but Olive wasn’t?”

“Gesù Cristo, come può un uomo essere così testardo!" Jesus Christ, how can one man be so stubborn!

“Val, don’t start yelling, not here!” He grabbed her arm, and the two of them left the dance floor in a flurry, trying not to draw any more attention to themselves. 

When they reached the bar, she pulled her arm from his grasp; it was just tight enough that she couldn’t slip away, but never painful, and fixed him with a look he had never seen before. 

“I’m leaving.”

“What?”

“I’m. Leaving.” She ground out, smoothing her jacket before taking a deep breath. 

“Honey, please don’t leave.”

“Why not? All we’ve done all day is argue over Doug!”

At that, Douglass turned from where he was at the bar with Hambone, eyes wide in shock. He hadn’t been expecting Val to be as heated as she was, but again, he supposed he should have known better than to assume Olive’s best friend wouldn’t take some frustration out on him. 

“The hell did I do to you?” Dougie had regained his composure, turning to face Val in bewilderment. 

“You,” she seethed. “You hurt my friend.”

“What, she can dish it out but she can’t take it?” 

“Woah ayy enough you three!” Curt was between Val and Douglass before either of them saw it coming, and to Dougie’s dismay, Benny DeMarco was with him. 

“Of course you’re here.” Dougie rolled his eyes at Benny, causing Curt to put just enough force into his stance and push Douglass back. 

“You hearin me Doug? I said, that’s enough.”

Dougie nodded silently, watching as Curt turned back to Val who stood statue still, utter shock etched across her features. 

“Demarco, walk her back,” He nodded at the pilot kindly. “I’ll be right there and then we’re gonna talk, yea?”

Val hugged Curt tightly before departing, and she knew he could see the tears in her eyes. He knew it before she felt the first one fall, that she was utterly terrified of losing Everett and her friendship with Douglass. For all the days she was tough as nails and kept him in line, he knew that the girl he used to walk home from work at night, who’d clutch his arm a little too hard if someone catcalled her, or cried on his shoulder when her heart was broken, was still in there somewhere. 

As she turned to leave, she could see the broken look on Everett’s face. Someone else was walking her back. Someone who wouldn’t kiss her good night, or hold her until they absolutely had to part. It was someone else, not him, and if he could, she’s sure he’d give himself the beating that Curt surely wanted to bestow upon him. But she was safe with Benny, and she’d be safe with Curt. She just wished that she was safe with Everett instead. 

Benny had walked her back, and it was the most uncomfortable silence that Val had felt in a long time. Meatball had dutifully followed his owner as he left, and trotted along happily between the two of them, stopping every so often to snuffle at the ground or bark. She wasn’t sure what to say, if she should say anything at all. She was grateful when Benny broke the silence by handing her a cigarette, the end already burning a soft orange ember. 

“Thanks…”

“Hey, you know none of this is anyone’s fault. It’s all just…”

“An alcohol fueled misunderstanding?” She turned to him, her eyebrow raised. 

“Yea, it really is,” He chuckled. “Doug was drunk last night. All he remembers is what he saw when he was drunk.”

“He made her cry twice, Ben…”

“I know. I’m mad at him for that too.”

“God, I left them in there with Curt,” She groans, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I left my boyfriend with Curt who, if looks could kill-“

“Woah, hey, come on now,” He drops a hand to her shoulder reassuringly as they come up to the Red Cross hut. “Curt wouldn’t hurt Ev or Doug.”

“Tell that to the last guy that made me cry.”

“The last guy had it coming, I’ll bet. But not Blakely or Doug.”

“Did I blow it with him completely? Maybe I am too much…” The words came out on a broken breath, and she felt herself about to crumble. 

“Absolutely not. You’re not too much.” Benny pulled her into a hug, knowing that she needed it, and wouldn’t be able to wait for Curt to show up. 

He traded places with the pilot as soon as he saw him approach, carefully shifting Val from his arms into Curt’s. Sharing a look, silently asking if he had needed to swing at anyone back in the club, Curt simply shook his head no, Benny breathing a sigh of relief. Offering him a wave, he called for Meatball who barely hesitated to follow him back towards the officers hut for their nightly routine. 

“Come on now,” Curt soothed, hand rubbing up and down her back gently. “No crying.”

“I ruined it.”

“What, your mascara? Yea gal, ya did.”

“Curt…”

“Ohhh ya mean Blakely? Nah, not at all. He looks like someone kicked his dog but that fella’s still crazy for ya.”

“I yelled at him.” She lifted her head from his shoulder, swiping under her eyes furiously to get rid of the tears. 

“I know, I heard ya.”

“Called him stubborn.”

“Mhmm, well, we all get that way from time to time.”

“What if-“

“No. You stick to ya guns. But, ya gotta clear your head; you’re both hot under the collar and not thinkin straight.”

“You think so? What if it ends up like-“

“Blakely ain’t him, you hear me? Yous two will work it all out, otherwise all my hard work will be for nothin.”

“What hard work?” 

“Who do ya think slipped him your favorite drink, hm?”

“That was you!?” She shouted, eyes wide in disbelief. She had sworn it was one of the girls and they just weren’t budging. 

“Yea dollie, it was me.”

“Curt Biddick!”

“Wanna see my best gal happy, so stop with the tears and go get some sleep. You’ll feel better in the mornin.”

“Love you, even if you are a huge pain in my ass.” She grinned, pulling him close. 

“Yea yea, I know ya do,” He hugged her back tightly, reminding her that she wasn’t alone. “And I know I am.”

It took a full week. A full week of Val sticking close to the other girls, and Curt. A week of Olive slipping off to bed early and avoiding the Officers Club for fear of running into Dougie. A week of the three of them trying to get her out of the funk the argument had caused. Val barely saw Everett unless he was passing by the Clubmobile or in the Officers Club at night. They had scarce words for each other, but she always had his coffee ready in the morning, and he always had a cocktail waiting for her at night. They were allowing the other to cool down, and she wasn’t sure what Curt had told him, but she ventured a guess it was similar to what he had told her. Give it time. But still, there was just enough of a reminder there for the other to know they still cared. They were not throwing in the towel. 

The boys had gone up on a raid earlier that morning, and Val hadn’t hesitated to send Ev off with his coffee and a kiss. She couldn’t, wouldn’t, send him up with anything less than her affection for him. Please. She had begged, hands holding his for the first time since their dance turned into an argument at the club the week before. Come back to me, Ev. Had made him promise he would, that she’d see both feet on the ground. And he had kept that promise. She’d spent the entirety of the time waiting for him, with her Rosary in one pocket, and her own red braid tied around her wrist. It was Curt who strolled into Interrogation first, cheeky smile and arms wide open for her. He was quick to reassure her that Ev was alright, and would be along any second.

“You gonna talk to him?” Curt asked, holding her at arm's length. 

“Not here,” She shook her head. “Not the time or place.”

“Alright, that’s fair.” Curt was quickly shuffled into interrogation by Dickie, who offered her a one armed hug and a smile before continuing on. 

Turning back to where she was working on doling out coffee, she saw Ev and Douglass enter the hut, the former scanning the room for her with tired eyes. 

“All in one piece?” She questioned, holding out two coffee cups for them both. She still had a job to do. 

“Yes,” Ev smiled, taking the cup from her before giving her hand a squeeze. “Later?” 

“Come find me.” She nodded, quickly moving to the next set of boys who were coming into the hut. Douglass had left without so much as a thanks for the coffee, but she couldn’t let it eat at her, because Brady and Hambone were waiting with smiles,; albeit tired ones, as she handed off coffee and welcomed them back to base. 

“Hey Val…” Hambone’s stage whisper didn’t do him any good at hiding what he wanted to say, and she couldn’t help but laugh. 

“Yea, Hammy?”

“Douglass is a cranky sunuvabitch without Olive glued to his side.” He carried on, and Brady couldn’t help but shake his head as he pushed his bombardier along down the line. 

“I know, Hammy, I’m working on it. We all are.”

Val was cleaning up with Tattie, the two of them quickly packing away the leftover donuts, and moving it all to the Clubmobile. She had just stepped outside when Everett finally exited the interrogation room. He had been fully prepared to end the argument, but when Hambone had begun teasing Douglass about how Val also thinks he’s a cranky bastard, well, Everett couldn’t comprehend why his girlfriend would pour gasoline on an already blazing fire. His eyes scanned the room before he caught Tattie, the brunette giving him a stern look before gesturing outside with a nod of her head. Everett, taking the wordless cue as a sign to head outside, was stopped by Tattie as he approached the door, the same stern look on her face. 

“Patch this shit up, would ya? I’m tired of my friends crying.”  

“She’s been crying?” Ev looked at Tattie with wide, nervous eyes. His stomach dropping to his feet at the thought that he’d made Val cry. 

“She has,” Tattie nodded. “So please, let’s end this, yea?”

“I’ll talk to her.” He nodded, making a break for it before he got an even longer lecture from the General’s daughter. 

She was coming from the Clubmobile when he spotted her. Her red lips were stretched in a smile he hadn’t seen in days, and it almost pained him that he was about to ask if what Hambone had said was true. 

“Hi,” She breathed, taking his hands and pulling him off to the side of the hut. “Are you okay?”

“If you mean the mission, then yea, I’m okay.”

“What else would I be talking about?”

“I’m a bit baffled as to why you would tell Hambone that Dougie is a cranky bastard.”

“What?” She stepped back, looking at him to see if he was joking. “I didn’t say that to Hammy.”

“Then what did you say?”

“Oh my god,” She sighed. “Hambone told me that Dougie has been cranky without Olive, and I said I agreed and that we were trying to fix it.” 

“So he is cranky?”

“Well he hasn’t slept from the looks of it. I’d say that constitutes crankiness, Ev!”

“I thought we were getting to the end of this, but you’re still against Doug.”

“I’m not against Doug, I’m just not in agreement with the way he’s handling all of this.”

“Well, then I guess we’re not at the end of this are we?”

“It would appear not.” She groaned, turning around to head back to the Clubmobile. She could see Helen and Olive inside, and needed to be there instead of here. 

“Val!”

“Oh my god,” She turned on her heel, staring at him as he stood there. “What?”

When he didn’t reply, she turned back, letting out a frustrated growl as she stomped back to the Clubmobile. 

When she enters the Clubmobile, her face is the picture of anger, and Helen is the first to notice. “Not you too!” She protests, shaking her head in disbelief. “I thought things seemed better after today!” 

“What?” Val replies, an edge to her tone that she instantly regrets when Helen winces. “Ev is taking Dougie’s side, I'm taking Olive’s and we're talking in fucking circles.”

“I'm sorry, Val,” Olive whimpers from across the truck, and Val turns to see she’s clenching her fists at her sides, her face blotchy from her latest spill of emotions, and remnants of mascara smudged under her eyes. “I'm sorry you and Ev are fighting because of me.”

“We're not fighting because of you,”  She flips the page of the magazine that���s resting on the counter with such force, the counter rattles under the weight of her fist. “We're fighting because of Douglass.” 

“Val…” Olive begins to protest but she’s quick to cut her off. 

“Stop that, it is not your fault! You're allowed to be friends with Benny the same way I’m friends with Curt.” She snaps, flipping another page.

“Honey, take a breath…” Helen tries to get her to relax, but it’s no use. Her rage carries through the truck and out into the open air surrounding it. 

“Does that make sense to you?” She yells over her shoulder. The two girls nod, wide eyed at her tone, unsure if she’s addressing them or not. “Everett?” 

She shouts again, still not looking up from her magazine when Everett comes around the corner, absolutely flabbergasted at the point she had been trying to make for the last week. 

“It makes sense, Val.” He sighs, looking up at her with apologetic eyes, before he turns and heads towards the Officers hut, mulling over everything she had just indirectly shouted at him. At least this time she had yelled at him in English and he had been able to understand it. 

“Did he just…agree with you?” Helen looked at Val, eyes wide at how quickly she had put him in check. 

“Yes Helen, he did.” Val closed the magazine, folded her hands under her bust and turned to her friend’s with a smile. 

“Remind me never to get on your bad side.” She shuddered, a laugh punching through at the end as she saw Olive crack a small smile. 

“Now!” Val clapped her hands and turned to Olive. “Are you coming to the club tonight?”

“Yea,” Olive nodded, her smile returning. “Yea I am.” 

——————————————————

They take their time getting ready that night. Val happily sits Olive down so she can pin her hair for her, and apply her makeup. It had been a rough week for them both, Olive more than Val, and she wanted her friend to relax. Nothing to worry about while in their hut other than which shade of rouge they might wear or how she was going to style her hair. Their uniforms were pressed and hanging up, ready to be slipped into, pantyhose laid out on the bed along with clean lingerie and shined shoes waiting for a spin on the dance floor. 

Meatball had tried to follow them back to their hut after they closed up the Clubmobile for the night, but Benny had promptly dragged the husky back to his hut for a bath after a particularly muddy afternoon with Winks and Lemmon’s. So, the girls had turned on their staticky radio in the corner of their hut and enjoyed their early evening of primping and getting ready for a night at the club. The mood was light, and it felt like any other day; even Tattie seemed a bit brighter. Maybe they were getting to the end of this hellish week. Maybe Douglass would see reason, and Everett would be the one to walk her back and kiss her goodnight. Maybe the anger that had been swirling around base was finally dissipating. 

“I’m going for a smoke,” Val announced, shrugging on her jacket and heading for the door. “You two coming?”

“Almost done,” Olive replied, peeking over her shoulder as she dug through some jewelry. “Helen and I will catch you up, Chicken.”

“Okay, I’ll meet you at the club.” 

Helen waved her off absent mindedly as she applied her lip liner with laser focus, not bothering to glance up from the mirror. Pushing the door open, Val found Curt and Dickie also walking towards the club, the pair stopping to allow her a chance to catch up. Curt had his lighter out before she even reached him, the flame flickering in front of his face making him look ominous. 

“There’s the gal!” Curt bellowed as she approached. 

“Must you always yell?” She gave him a gentle shove before allowing him to light her cigarette. 

“You know he can’t help himself.” Dickie chimed in, tossing an arm over her shoulder and steering her towards the club. 

“You two behaving?” She looks between them, eyebrow raised in question. 

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” Curt nudges her, pulling the cigarette from her for himself. “You’re out there screamin and startin fights.” 

“I think today might have been the last fight.”

When Curt looks over, he’s expecting sadness, no doubt, but is surprised to see that Val looks happier, and a bit lighter than she had been. 

“You two make up?” 

“We’re getting there. I think I finally got my point across.”

“What is the point,” Dickie asks. “if you don’t mind me asking.”

“That if I can be with Ev and still be best friends with Curt, Olive can be friends with Benny while still being with Douglass.”

“And Blakely knows this now?” The Co-Pilot inquires, looking at her curiously. 

“Like I said,” Val nods. “Got my point across.”

“That means she yelled.” Curt clarified. Stealing her cigarette back from him she shooed them both into the club. 

She hadn’t been waiting long when Olive and Helen strolled up, arms linked and smiling about something. This, Val thought, was how things should be. Her friends, happy. Her boyfriend, happy. Everyone safe. She stubs out her cigarette against the wall as she greets the pair, her voice carrying across the space between them. When she hears the door open behind her, she sees Olive pale immediately as she moves to stand behind Val, clutching her hand tightly.  It’s Dougie that’s exited the club, and he looks the worst of them all. 

“Douglass.” Val nods to him, watching him closely. 

“Valencia,” He replies, gesturing behind him as he speaks. “Ev's waiting for you inside.” 

Val can feel Olive’s nerves radiating off of her, doing her best to keep her out of Douglass’s line of sight. They’re so close to being inside the club, so close to a night around their table with cocktails and laughter. She’s so focused on the next step, that she completely misses Tattie as she slides up next to them, cigarette burning in one hand, gaze focused on the group that had gathered. 

“Jeez, you look lousy, Ol,” Tattie says, unaware of Val trying to shield her. “Still not sleeping?” Val doesn’t hear her reply, but a quick glance behind her and she see’s Olive shaking her head silently in response. She’s chewing on her bottom lip, the lipstick that Val had applied for her now staining her teeth. 

“I'm sure Benny would give you some place to sleep,” Dougie spits. The words leaving his mouth so quickly, if Val hadn’t been paying attention she might have missed it. “If he hasn't already.” 

Dougie’s face falls the second the words leave his mouth,  instantly regret washing over his features as the weight of what he’s just said settles over them all like the fog that perpetually covers England. It’s thick and murky, and wading through it makes you unsure because you can’t see where you’re going, or what’s going to happen next. Olive’s face crumples, and try as she might to hide it, a sob breaks free from her throat and out into the night air. 

“Dougie! Jesus Christ!” Everett shouts. The door of the club swings shut behind him, and he’s shocked at what he heard leaving his friend's mouth. 

Timing was everything, it seemed. Val is on Dougie in a flash, arm pulled back and ready to swing. Something, she thinks, Curt should have done days ago. James Douglass deserved the sense beat into him as far as she was concerned, but Tattie is just as quick as she is and she’s pulling her back with all the force one would expect from General Spaatz’s daughter. 

“Val, no, no!” Tattie is dragging her away as she shouts, the sound becoming almost guttural as her throat gives out. 

“How dare you, James Douglass!” She roars. “Look at the fucking state of her!” 

Everyone silently turns to Olive who is wrapped up in Helen’s arms, her cries muffled as Helen holds her tightly, and does her best to soothe her through all the ruckus. .  

“Olive,” Dougie starts, his voice cracking as he takes a step closer to her.

“No!” 

It’s Helen who shouts, surprising everyone as she puts her hand in Dougie’s face, stopping him from getting even a step closer to the girl she’s tending to. 

“Not until everyone has calmed down,” She continues, speaking firmly, both Tattie and Val looking on in surprise as mild mannered, sweet, Helen is the one to put her foot down. “You especially, Douglass.” 

He nods quietly, hands behind his back as he watches Tattie lead Val into the club, the green eyed Italian practically snarling at him on the way past. She’s not paying attention to whether or not Everett is following behind, her focus entirely on Tattie’s grip on her arm, the noise of the club as she walks through the doors, and the smell of cigarette smoke as Tattie lights them each one. 

“I’m starting to wonder what would have happened if I had left the hut five minutes later.” Tattie exhaled, smoke swirling around her, making her look almost ethereal. 

“You’d be explaining to Harding why Doc Stover was sewing James Douglass back together like Raggedy Anne.”

“Jeez, he really put his foot in it didn’t he.” 

Val was about to reply when the door swung open, Helen and Everett entering together, both looking like they needed more than just a drink, but also like they had accomplished something. 

Helen motioned for Tattie to join her, the two linking arms and heading further into the club to secure a table and some drinks, while Val and Everett stood staring at each other in the doorway like two awkward teenagers. 

“Where’s Olive and Dougie?” She asked, back pressed against the wall, unmoving. 

“I did what you suggested last week,” Everett shrugged. “Locked them in a room to sort it out.”

“Everett!”

“No,” He chuckled. “They’re in the mess hall, talking.”

“Are they okay unsupervised like that?”

“They’re fine. I think they’re both too tired to keep fighting.”

“And what about you? Are you too tired to keep fighting?”

“Sweetheart,” He took the three steps separating them, his hands taking hers and pulling her away from the wall and into his arms. “I’ve been exhausted since it started.”

“Me too.” 

His arms came around her, pulling her flush against his body. Holding each other in the quiet of the entryway, Val could feel all of her anger dissipate. She had been a pot of hot, boiling water, all week. Bubbling with anger and fear, and now, the steam was floating off the top of the pot and taking everything with it. 

“I should have listened to you.” Everett murmured, face nuzzled into her hair as he held her. 

“I shouldn’t have yelled at you.” She whispered, pressing herself closer, her hands gripping fistfuls of his jacket. 

“You yelled at me in Italian,” He chuckled. “Curt said that means you’re really mad.”

“It sort of just happens.” She shrugged, pulling back so she could see his face. 

“He wouldn’t tell me what you said.”

“I called you stubborn.” She winced. 

“I deserve that. I was really stubborn.”

Everett’s hands slid around to cup the back of her neck, thumbs brushing the underside of her jaw as they stood there. The first fight, over. All that was left was to make up- truly make up. 

“I’m sorry,” Val sighed, feeling Everett’s lips brush over hers like a whisper. “I’m so sorry…”

“Shh, It’s okay, it’s over, sweetheart.”

“I thought I ruined it...”

“You didn’t ruin a damn thing,” He shook his head, leaning down to press his lips fully to hers. “Not a damn thing.” 

Val pulled him back down to her instantly, her lips molding to his, her hands gripping the lapels of his jacket to pull him closer. She wanted to be as close as she could  after not having him near all week, as close as was not considered indecent as they stood in the entrance to the Officers Club where anyone could happen upon them. When Everett pulled away for air, she chased him on a gasp, her breathing ragged, begging for him to come closer again. 

“I’m sorry, too.” He sucked in a breath, pressing his forehead to hers. 

“This was a miserable week,” She groaned. “I hated every second of it.”

“Can only imagine how Olive and Doug felt.” 

“Speaking of,” Val shook her head. “We should really check on them.”

Nodding, Everett reluctantly pulled away from her, taking her hand and leading her further into the club to seek out their friends. When they reached the table, they found Helen and Tattie with Benny, Curt and Dickie. Meatball was currently biting at Gale Cleven’s heels across the room. No Olive or Douglass to be found. 

“Look who it is!” Curt exclaimed, slamming his beer down and causing it to slosh all over his arm and the table.  

“Jesus Curt, you’re a mess.” Tattie shook her head. 

“Forget it,” Curt shook his arm out behind him, spraying beer all over the back of an unsuspecting Crank. “Yous two kiss and make up?”

“Yea,” Val grinned. “We did.”

“Finally!” Helen clapped her hands together in excitement. “Where’s Olive and Doug?”

“They’re not here?”

“No…”

“They’re still talking?” Val’s eyes went wide, suddenly worried that Ev had sent them on their way, alone. 

“I guess? You think we should check on them?”

“For my own sanity, yes Helen, we should.” 

When the whole table stood to follow Val and Helen out of the club, neither could really say they blamed any one of them. Every one of them had been involved either directly, or indirectly, and wanted to see what would become of Olive and Douglass. So they headed back out into the night air, Val tugging Everett along with her while Helen and Tattie were right at her side. 

“God I hope they haven’t killed each other.” Tattie sighed just as they rounded the corner to the mess hall. The girls try to peer through the small windows in the door, but the lights are off in the mess hall and they can’t see anything in front of them. The boys, all hanging back, are watching to see what the girls might do next. 

“I can’t see a thing!” 

“Shh!”

“It’s too dark!”

“Why don't yous three just go inside?” 

“Because, Curt,” Val turned and fixed him with a look. “We can’t go in there if they’re still in there.”

“Where else would they be?”

“I don’t know,” She sighed. “There’s dozens of places they could have run off to.” 

“Why don’t you look through the windows on the side?” Benny offered, gesturing around to the side of the building. Val’s eyes lit up as she pulled Helen and Tattie around the side with her, stopping short when she realizes that they can’t see in the windows. They’re all too short. 

“Everett!” She calls, her head coming around the corner to look for him. “I can’t see!”

“What am I supposed to do?”

“Give me a boost?” She’s batting her lashes and looking at him like she’ll give him the whole world if he helps her. And he knows that even if she promised him nothing, he can never deny her anything. 

“Come on,” He quickly shrugs off his jacket, passing it over to Curt so he can join the girls. “Benny, Dickie, come give the other two a lift would ya?”

“What about me?” Curt groans, now holding all of the jackets. 

“I’m not lifting you up, Biddick.” Everett looks at him in mock disgust, hands gripping Val’s waist as he prepares to hoist her up onto his shoulder. 

“Okay honey, just like when I gave you a boost into the fort, yea?”

“Got it.” She nodded, waiting for him to count to three. She’s on his shoulders faster than she can blink. Leaning against the window, Val uses her hands to brace herself so she can see inside. Helen is next to her, one hand on Val’s shoulder for support while the other is pressed against the side of the building. 

“Oh my god!” Val exclaims, her excitement causing her to lose her balance and almost slip from Everett’s shoulder. 

“What! Someone tell me what’s goin on up there!” Curt hollers from the ground. 

“Benny, move a little closer…” Tattie is trying hard to see inside, her hands over her eyes like binoculars to block out the glare against the window. Below her, Benny lets out a swear in Italian that has Val cackling. “Wow!”

“He’s kissing the daylights out of her!” Helen calls down to the boys, a smile on her face. 

In her excitement, Val begins banging on the glass, Helen joining in with her as their laughter turns into uncontrollable giggles. 

“Well, they saw us…” Tattie grins, tapping Benny to set her down on the ground before she topples over. Val and Helen are close to falling, but Everett and Dickie have them both on the ground before they risk hurting themselves. 

“I don’t think they’re coming out,” Val is beaming as she throws her arms around Helen and Tattie, her happiness contagious. “Good for them.”

“Come on ladies,” Helen gestures towards the direction of the club. “Let’s leave them to it.”

As they turn to head back, Everett pulls Val under his arm, tucking her against his side as they walk. He’s smiling as he plucks the Lucky Strike from behind his ear and lights it, handing it off to her for the first pull. Her red nails glow as the ember reflects off them, her smile threatening to split her face in two as she hands it back to him. 

“Is all right in the world now, sweetheart?”

“For now…”

“Only for now?” He questions, stopping just outside the door to the club. 

“When this war is over, then my world will be right again.”

It was the kind of night that seemed to go on forever. No one wanted to go to bed when the club had emptied out, all of them high on adrenaline and making up for lost time they had walked from the club to the hardstands. Laughing and sharing cigarettes, the girls giggling a little extra as the alcohol pulsed through their veins, the boys all watching with smiles on their faces and glimmers in their eyes. They had argued over whose fort to hang out in front of; Ev and Douglass lobbying for Just - A - Snappin while Benny tried to steer them towards Our Baby. Curt and Dickie didn’t care whose fort they set up camp in front of, because according to Curt it was getting increasingly difficult to not polish off the bottle he had swiped from behind the bar upon exit. And so, they picked a spot in the grass between the two Flying Fortresses, Meatball stretched out next to Benny, and continued to just be together. A motley crew if Val had ever seen one, but they were her’s. They had stayed there until the sun began peeking over the horizon, when Thorpe Abbotts was bathed in the soft orange glow of morning. Only then did they leave. 

Helen was dozing on Dickie’s shoulder, his jacket tossed over her shoulders, and Tattie had gotten cozy between Benny and Meatball, the Husky laying over her legs for a little extra warmth. Olive was tucked under Dougie’s shoulder, and Val was laying with her head in Everett’s lap, his fingers combing through her curls as she relaxed for the first time in days. Curt had his head in her lap, awake but silent, and Val couldn't remember the last time her friend had been so calm. 

“Hey,” Olive mumbled sleepily, her foot nudging Val’s. “I know I said it a lot this week but, thank you.”

“What are you thanking me for?”

“For having my back,” She signed, reaching over to squeeze her hand. “For reminding me what it’s like to have true friends.”

“Olive, I will always have your back, you hear me?”

“Yea,” She signed contentedly, snuggling further into Dougie’s chest. “Yea I hear ya.”

Nothing else needed to be said between them, she realized. All it took was a simple thank you and a reminder that she wasn’t alone, for Val to realize that Olive had finally put it all behind her. Douglass had pulled her aside earlier when he and Olive finally returned to the club, and before anything was said between them, he had hugged her. His apologies were profuse, and Val had to stop him before he started rambling; he had smoked two cigarettes in the time it took her to get him to understand that he was forgiven, and that it would take something much bigger than that to ruin the friendship they were building. She was beginning to think of him as her second Curt- brash and a bit off the walls, but a good heart. All of them had good hearts. It didn’t take a genius to figure that out, and she counted herself lucky in being able to share in that. With a content smile, she snuggled deeper into Everett’s lap, holding on tight to the hand that wasn’t playing with her hair. 

“Hey, Doug,” Ev spoke lowly, not wanting to disturb the peace around them. “Should we get these girls back to the hut so they can sleep?”

“Nah,” Doug replied, smiling. “Might not get a chance at such a clear sunrise again for a while.”

“You’re right pal. Besides, I’ve never seen anything so beautiful before.” 

“I couldn’t agree more. It sure is beautiful.”

“Bellissima…” Val whispered in quiet agreement. 

Everything was Bellissima. 

Part Six

A/N: Thanks for reading! This series will continue for Blakely & Val, so if you enjoyed this, please like, comment, reblog- whichever is your poison. Feedback is always welcome & my ask box is always open. If you want to be added to my tag list, or removed, let me know!

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[lily-evans-stan]

“help me” @pandalilymicrofics prompt for june 22!! it’s my second microfic and my first w a prompt so any insights would be so helpful:)))

TW- Eating disorders and mentions of suicide please take care of your self and read with caution

lily had eaten too much.

that much she knew.

pandora had been passing her drink after drink and as lily lost her inhibitions she lost her control.

and she wasn’t allowed to lose control.

control was the only thing keeping her from madness, from destroying herself inside out.

and it wasn’t doing a very good job.

so lily was eating.

so far she had eaten half a cookie, thirteen potato chips and four and a half beers. it was just too much, she was going to cry.

instead she reached out for her fourteenth chip. according to the bag serving sizes were twenty eight chips, lily, in her mind, was getting dangerously close.

as she realized what she was doing she pulled her hand back suddenly.

pandora appeared at her side, “ what are you doing my love?” she hummed. lily flinched and hoped that the blonde girl hadn’t seen the momentary weakness.

“nothing dear,” lily murmured, leaning into pandora’s touch, suddenly imagining what her lover would think had she know how much lily had eaten.

the redhead stiffened ever so slightly, “im going to go to the bathroom.”

lily stumbled towards the bathroom, her mind going over the rules.

one

never eat anything you can’t throw up

two

never let anyone know

three repeat my mantras :

“if she knows then she will never love me again”

“she only loves me because of how i look”

“if i eat so much, i’m going to be fat and then no one will love me ever again”

“i’m miserable now but one day i’ll be happy”

i’m the bathroom lily flung open the stall and kneeled at the toilet bowl if anyone walked in they would think she just had too much to drink. gryffindor parties often got rowdy, especially when all the houses had been invited like they were tonight.

but that was far from what was happening in lily’s mind.

as she stuck her hand down her throat she gagged. and gagged again. and once more but nothing came up. she started sobbing. she was hiccuping and gagging against the hand in her mouth, tears streaming down her face.

what if she couldn’t throw up? what if she has to digest the food?

what if… what if the next time she stepped on the scale she saw the number go up instead of down.

that truly was lilys greatest fear.

she started hyperventilating. she was gagging and blood was coming up and stomach acid was coming up but nothing solid or even that had once been remotely solid. tears and snot were all over her and she could feel the spit sliding down her arm.

that’s when pandora walked in. her eyes took in the scene, the pitiful girl so deep in her mind that she couldn’t even think straight. so tainted with the monster inside that everything she did was traced back to it.

pandora looked at lily and lily looked back. lily was disgusting, she was covered in bodily fluids and was hyperventilating, shaking and still gagging.

“help me.”

with one step pandora was beside her girlfriend, arms around lily. and lily was sobbing into her shoulder.

things would be sorted out, pandora would get the whole story, and everything would be fixed.

eventually.

but for now lily was in pandoras arms and that was enough.

[writingforfishes]

Otto and Atticus Lore 1: Mark's Hangover

The inspiration for this story came at the most inconvenient time. I was at work and as the images and sounds came to me, I had to fight hard to make it appear like I was actually present. The drive home was only successful because I had taken the way home so many times before as I was still stuck in the headspace. I mad-dashed this story when I got to my computer and ended up staying awake way too long to complete it. I edited it and changed it this morning.

This was NOT the story I was intending to create next! I hope it holds up tomorrow when I read over it after I've posted it!

I was also not intending on making a separate series on the lore of these two characters, but the asks in my inbox made me think about their pasts and inspired some deeper consideration on the plots and thoughts I already had in mind.

Disclaimers: This is a work of FANTASY. Otto and Atticus are such a good couple because I need them to be a good couple. This is not, for the most part, realistic. (Also, I don't even have a tambour style mantel clock, nor did anyone in my family.)

I don't know anyone who has a kink specifically for watching someone get aroused. If that kink does exist (or is just a normal way of people reacting), I'm completely unfamiliar with it and have created a possible fictional representation of a kink. Thus, any of Otto's thoughts are extrapolated from ideas I thought would be plausible. (I am very asexual.)

If anyone is familiar with the series Otto's character was based on, this is basically a rewrite of similar character dynamics. I give real-world reasons for the fantasy content in the series to have happened. I know nothing of police procedure or detective procedure.

I do not have alcoholism. I know a few people who are alcoholics, but I don't have personal experience with the feeling of being an alcoholic and the emotions that surround the disease. If I'm misrepresenting something here, I apologize.

CW (there will probably be quite a few in this one):

Representation of a hangover from an emotional drinking binge.

Allusion to Otto's past as an alcoholic and reflection as a recovering alcoholic.

Allusion to Otto's falling off the wagon at one point. (very brief)

Mention of Jana's addiction to prescription drugs and alcohol.

Mention of Jana and Mark's break up.

Uncomfortable hiccups that concern Otto.

Mention of throwing up and retching.

Hiccups that Otto thinks are suggestive of needing to throw up.

No depiction of emeto. Discussion of previous purge (very brief).

Verbal description of the sound of Mark's hiccups by Otto to Atticus.

Verbal description of Otto's hiccups from Atticus to Otto.

Arousal mention.

Arousal and follow through implication.

A small hiccup battle.

Otto being extremely patient and understanding.

Otto also being the Felix to Mark's Oscar.

I STG, children, just look up The Odd Couple.

Atticus being embarrassed.

Mark being embarrassed.

Otto being a well-adjusted bi.

Mark being a disaster straight.

Jana is not a bad person. I intend to prove this in future stories.

Alice is also not a bad person. Etc. Etc.

Realizing how much I do lean heavily in a masc cast. I don't know why that is. Ah well, it's my fantasy anyway.

Mention of Atticus' parents both no longer existing.

Long moments in the story where no hiccups occur.

Lots of exposition surrounding past events. (I know, I know. Show, don't tell. But I had a need to write it out.

Um, if there's other stuff please tell me?

Finally! The story!

It was 6:30am and Otto was just about to have his first cup of coffee for the day when he heard the stairs from the loft bed creaking with heavy, ambling footsteps. Otto watched with attentive curiosity as Mark lumbered into the kitchen in boxers and a white shirt.

“Hey HNGK’UH!…” the younger man muttered as he sat down heavily across from Otto and shielded his eyes from the lights.

Otto wordlessly got up, sitting his unsipped coffee on the table, and turned off the overhead light while drawing the shades of the small window over the sink to let in a softer natural light into the kitchen.

“HUNGK!”

Poor guy had a wicked case of hiccups, it sounded like, and Otto knew a bad case of hiccups. A few weeks ago, Mark had been on the witnessing side of a 5-hour case of hiccups to which Otto had been victim.

But Otto knew good and well this wasn’t just about a case of the hiccups. The hiccups were a consequence of Mark’s actions. Mark’s actions were a consequence of an exorbitant amount of alcohol had the night before at a bar after work. The alcohol binge was a consequence of the fact that the future life he’d been planning with Jana had been crumbling slowly around him after a whole bunch of unpleasantness and drama that proceeded the breakup.

Mark had been staying with Otto for a few months as Jana and his relationship started to disintegrate. Yesterday Mark had told Otto that Jana had come by the police station, where he worked, to retrieve the spare key to their previously shared house from him and give him some stuff that he’d found of his that she thought he might want back.

Otto figured the finality of it all probably hit Mark pretty hard when he got a call at around 1am. Mark was slurring into his phone so much Otto could barely understand him. He had Mark hand the phone to the bartender, and he was able to get the address and head over to retrieve the wayward detective. The bartender, consequentially, was Margie.

Margie did a very good job of taking care of Mark before Otto arrived. Otto was very appreciative of the gesture. She kept his friend safe. The next week he’d visit the bar again during the daytime and would be lucky enough for her to be working so he could give her more thanks. They would start to talk, and a friendship would form quickly, thereafter.

Like clockwork, a customary pun for a clock maker, Otto awoke at 6am despite the late night. He didn’t expect Mark to be awake until much later that day.

“Didn’t think you’d be up this early,” Otto said. He kept his voice soft and tried to minimize the sounds of his shuffling through cabinets. “How’re you holding up?”

“HNGK! I’m okay. Hiccups woke me. Could-HINGK!-couldn’t get back to sleep,” Mark replied in a hoarse voice just above a whisper.

Mark lifted his hand away from his face a little when he realized the lights weren’t as bright as they had seemed before. He squinted his dark blue eyes in Otto’s direction as he watched the taller man walk back and forth. He had to look away when he found himself getting dizzy while trying to follow Otto’s path. The dull ache of pain behind his eyes and sinuses made him squeeze his eyes and pinch the bridge of his nose with his fingers.

Mark wondered if Ralph would’ve been as respectful of his current condition as Otto seemed. Ralph would have, no doubt, treated his hangover with some humor. Maybe he would’ve spoken a little loud or turned on all the lights. Ralph might’ve been sensitive later to Mark’s plight, but his friend and work partner seemed the type to shock someone in his sad, hungover state with tough love.

Mark wondered if Otto might have had a little more experience with being in the detective’s similar situation than Ralph. Mark was not wrong in his thought process, impressive as it for his brain to have formed the thought in such a dehydrated and painful state.

Otto had taken the time, when he’d settled his friend down enough that he knew he wouldn’t wake and was safe from further purging, to silence all of the chimes and striking clocks he owned. Otto had, indeed, been in Mark’s shoes and physical state more times and to a greater degree than it was likely Mark had. One thing Otto remembered viscerally about those times is that he could’ve done with a little understanding and kindness despite the bad decisions that lead him to the consequences of his self-destructive behavior.

“Here,” Otto said as he sat a glass of orange-hued liquid beside Mark’s elbow. “It’s Emergen-C. Electrolytes and vitamins. You’re really dehydrated, man, and this is a quicker way to replenish that. Tastes like orange. This,” Otto held up a small pocket of wax paper folded over a small amount of powder, “is BC powder. Powdered Aspirin and caffeine. Quickest way to get some pain relief from that headache. You gonna puke? Those hiccups sound suspicious…”

Mark took a while to respond, his brain working on reserves with all of the pressure and pounding in his head. Right. The hiccups.

“Naw. Did all of that HNK!-that last night. HMGK! I always get these after a nigh-HNGK’M!-night like...like last night. Usually takes a HNK-UH! a while to stop. Nothing helps. Kinda like you-HNGK!-yours. Thanks,” Mark said as he took a swig of the glass. The Emergen-C’s light fizz felt refreshing even though the artificialness of the orange flavor was a little offensive.

Mark felt Otto’s warm hand on his shoulder before the older man crossed back to where he was sitting before.

Otto sat down and observed his friend’s pallor and slow movements. He had memories of his own struggles with hangovers. He also had memories of squelching those hangovers with more drinking. It was less ‘hair of the dog’ and more the whole damn canine. To be fair, it was an effective method for a while. Not really something that, Otto discovered, was sustainable.

“Yeah, just pour that powder in your mouth and wash it down really quick with the water. Trust me, you don’t want that taste to linger any longer than it has to,” Otto said as he watched Mark’s cautious handling of the wax paper.

Otto watched him make a face from the bitterness of the powder before the detective quickly gulped the Emergen-C flavored water as a chaser. Otto couldn’t help but give a little chuckle.

“You good?” the clock maker asked.

“Y-HUNGK!-Yeah. Ugh!” Mark exclaimed, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“It’ll help, I promise. I know you feel like crap right now. No real shortcut to a hangover, man, but you can treat the symptoms. If you’re feeling like it, I can fix us both some breakfast after I finish my coffee,” Otto said.

“Thanks. That might b-HINGK!-might be good,” Mark said sheepishly. He jerked with another hiccup and tossed his head to clear his dark hair from in front of his eyes. He regretted the motion almost immediately as he winced.

Just as Otto was finally starting to take a sip of his still steaming coffee, Mark spoke up again and Otto met his tired eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

Otto lowered the mug again, shaking his head.

“Dude, you don’t have anything to be sorry for,” he said with a sad smile. “Listen, man, you are going through some tough shit right now. I mean, I’m really glad Jana’s finally getting the treatment she needs. And you were a big part of that. And, well, you know, the whole malpractice lawsuit with that bitch blonde lawyer, Alice...whatshername moved that recovery along legally, but you were a part of it, too!”

Mark snorted at the cavalier summation Otto gave of his ex’s journey from addiction to almost losing her veterinarian license, to starting in a recovery program, to Jana realizing that she couldn’t hold up a relationship with Mark and recover at the same time. While he knew it wasn’t a personal attack, Mark couldn’t help but feel supreme grief in knowing that the person he fell in love with was going through something that, not only could he not help with, but that he was a hindrance in overcoming.

Not to mention he had purchased an engagement ring he had planned on unveiling at the right moment, which seemed perpetually postponed by upticks in crime and cases he couldn’t ignore. So, did he really blame her for not feeling safe in the relationship?

Otto was speaking again, and Mark looked up from his thoughts to listen. His body jolted again, and he was reminded that his hangover was still actively punishing him for his choices. The hiccups didn’t hurt, per se, but they were definitely hard, loud, and sounded pretty terrible.

“I mean, you know I’ve been in your place before. I mean, not exactly, but similar. No one would blame you for having a little self-destructive pity party. Just...not too many of them. Cause then you end up in the hospital 15-some-odd years later being told that your pancreas is on its last legs and one more drink could send you into a fatal situation. That’s...obviously specific to my experience, but you get it. Anyway, you got wasted cause you were grieving, and you asked your amazing friend who came to pick you up if he thought you were good-looking because for some reason none of the girls at the bar wanted to go home with the shit-faced drunk guy.

“And I meant what I said. You’re extremely hot and it’s so depressing that you’re completely so heterosexual. Like...painfully straight. Ugh!” Otto said, rolling his eyes dramatically.

Mark’s eyes had gotten so comically wide that Otto could see the bloodshot veins in the whites of them and the pink inflammation lining his eyelids.

“I HNGK-KUH!-I didn’t say all that, did I? HU’NGK!” Mark asked aghast as he rubbed his chest.

“You really did. Then you suggested we try being in a relationship because, and I quote, ‘you do guys sometimes, right?’ As if I haven’t explicitly told you my preferences. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m flattered. But I just don’t think we’d make a good match.

“We have a dishwasher, Mark. We have a machine that does the dishes for us. In the kitchen. Next to the sink that has a garbage disposal. Why do we have piles of dirty dishes? Not to mention if I find your boxers in a load of my clothes one more time I...sneaky bastard. Like a thief except instead of stealing things you invade my loads of laundry, so you don’t have to do your own. Like that bird. What’s that bird? That bird who lays its eggs in the other bird’s nest and has them raise their babies, so they don’t have to? Fuck! Cuckoo bird! How the hell does a clock maker forget that?!” Otto exclaimed. “You’re like a damn laundry cuckoo bird forcing me to wash your underwear!”

Mark was having a struggle trying to coordinate his silent laughter with his forceful hiccups. His body jolted against the back of the chair again as Otto seemed to wind down.

“I swear, man H’UNGK!, I don’t remember any HNGK!-any of that. Seriously, I’m NGK!-I’m really sorry you had to deal with—ugh!” the silent hiccup thumped hard in his chest as it choked his words, “deal with me. Damn, these things are an-HNGK!-annoying!” Mark said, rubbing his chest again.

The detective did notice, though, that his headache had already started to fade. He still felt a little foggy and unsettled in his stomach, but he was already feeling better. He wasn’t sure it was Otto’s humorous distraction or the Emergen-C and BC powder. Perhaps it was a combination.

“You sure you’re good with the stomach stuff? Cause those things sound like little retches…” Otto said, still suspicious.

“Well, if you keep t-ANGK!-talking about the stomach stuff I might HNGK!-might start feeling sick, so…” Mark said, crossing his arms as he winced at another silent bodily jerk.

“Alright, alright. I’ll stop,” Otto said, holding up his hands.

“You’re not one t-HINGK!-to hiccup-shame. Mr. Five H-HUMPK!-Hours of Scary Ass Hiccups!” Mark exclaimed.

“Touché!” Otto said at the reference to the time the clock maker developed a case of hiccups that persisted for most of the day. When Mark suggested holding his breath, Otto’s body rejected the cure and gave him the fastest hiccups he’d ever had. Otto was sore for days after that night.

Otto finally touched his lips to his mug of coffee that was still quite warm. Mark chuckled before another hiccup hit him. As Otto swallowed, he gave his friend a questioning look.

“Ass hiccups,” Mark explained with a smirk. Otto would wonder later if Mark still wasn’t a little drunk.

Otto inhaled the coffee with a surprised laugh and started coughing violently. His coughing was interspersed with...well...hiccups.

“Shit! HUCK!” Otto exclaimed between coughing.

He looked up to find Mark covering his mouth, but mirth in his eyes, as he watched Otto’s struggles.

“No HNGK!-no way. Dude, do we seriously HNGKL!-have the hiccups at the same UNGK!-same time?” Mark guffawed.

“This is HULP!HMK!-this is all y-HMK!-your fault, man. HLMK! Dammit!” Otto said.

Mark just laughed again, another hard hiccup smacking into his chest and throat.

After a while, they both calmed down. For the next few minutes, it was quiet save for the call and response their hiccups played with each other. Otto continued to sip his coffee, stubborn to drink the warm beverage he was so looking forward to. Mark nursed the rest of the Emergen-C, energy that he had regained from before having dissipated as he stared into the residue on the inside of his glass.

Though Otto’s hiccups were still rapid they had decreased in strength while Mark’s stayed forceful and deep.

“HNGK!” Mark’s hiccups said.

“Hlp!Hip!” said Otto’s.

“HUNGK!…HMP’K!”

“Huck!-himp!mp!”

“HU’NGK!...UCK!...HMMNGK!”

“Huck!Huck’l!Hmpk!Mp!” Otto sighed at the fast cluster and patted his chest, muffling another hiccup behind his hand.

“Stop that!” Mark suddenly exclaimed.

Otto looked up from a paper he had begun to do the crossword on with confusion.

“You can’t t-HNGK!-tell me you’re not d-UMPK!-doing that on purpose,” Mark said.

Otto frowned, head jerking in more hiccups.

“You’re out hi-HILMK!-out hiccuping me. You’re doing one-HNGK!-one more hiccup each time,” Mark complained, grumpily sipping the last of his enhanced water. Most of it was, of course, put on. But he had genuinely wondered if somehow Otto was doing it on purpose, too.

Otto, for his part, had been oblivious to the hiccup war that Mark had been forging. But he smiled now, taking a haughty tone.

“Well…I am the hmpk!hip!-the sup—superior hic-hu’up!-hiccuper,” he said, battling through another cluster and putting a fist over his mouth as three more hit him in a row.

A beat past before they both erupted into giggling laughter at the ridiculousness. The laughter ended in both of them letting out a hiccup simultaneously, Mark’s ���HINGK!” to Otto’s “Hi’ilp!” which sent them into another roll of laughter that perpetuated itself for a while before they both got tired and winded.

Otto’s hiccups ended before Mark’s and the detective ended up hiccuping for about an hour in total which left him feeling sore and tired. But Otto’s breakfast and subsequent lunch and pressuring his friend to drink more water helped Mark feel much better by the end of the day.

***

To be honest, Otto had been terrified that night when he got the call from Mark. Mark was a rational person who didn’t often let vices lead his actions. He had a very clear and logical leaning and seeing the man so out of character and destroyed shook Otto’s core. In addition, having to enter a bar again and seeing representations of himself in his worst times all around him being unnerving and unsettling in and of itself.

The main reason Mark and him had become the unlikely friends they were was due to a case of mistaken identity where Otto lived one street away from a man guilty of kidnapping and murder. Otto also fit the physical description of the man in question, which wasn’t much: a tall man with a beard and wild curly hair.

After Otto’s innocence was proven, he was still getting harassed by his neighbors who hadn’t gotten the news that the actual murderer had been caught and was being prosecuted. Otto had stormed into the police station with the dark-haired, blue-eyed detective in his sights. Before the police there could usher him out (forcefully) Mark stopped them and let Otto have his say.

Otto demanded that some representative of the police go around his neighborhood and clarify that Otto was, in fact, innocent. Additionally, someone had thrown a brick through his window, and he held Mark personally responsible for paying for said window’s replacement. Also, he hadn’t spent this many years getting his life back together as a recovering alcoholic to now be chased out of his home because of a crime he actually didn’t commit!

To Otto’s surprise, it was the lead detectives, Mark and his partner Ralph themselves who went around to every one of his neighbors and explained Otto’s innocence. They ended at Otto’s door with sincere apologies, especially Mark. He was, after all, the one who had tackled Otto to the front steps of his own house in the first place.

He was further surprised to see Mark at his door again a few days later. He gave him a check to reimburse the window and had another request for Otto. His girlfriend, he suspected, was abusing her prescription drugs and alcohol and did Otto know of any programs that could be of use. And could Otto, perhaps, be willing to help Mark understand some of what she was going through from a place of having gone through something similar? Mark didn’t understand addiction from a personal standpoint, and it was causing a rift between he and Jana that he feared was irreparable.

The request was incredibly personal and bordered on inappropriate and offensive, but something about Mark’s countenance endeared him to Otto. Otto could tell Mark was coming from a place of wanting to learn and though it was a heavy burden to share his vulnerability with a man who accused him from murder, he felt compelled to try and help.

So, Otto, who had been living a pretty secluded life up until that point, reticently decided to be of service to Mark’s questions. The friendship ended up being mutually beneficial. Otto hadn’t realized how his reclusive life had been gnawing at his mental health. It had gotten to the point where he was scared to do anything social for fear of losing control of his desires. Mark ended up being the soft introduction to an unexpectedly functional, safe friendship. It was something he’d never experienced before.

It took a while for Otto not to see Mark as some twenty-something cop made detective before they were mature enough to handle it when he couldn’t even handle his private life. And the clock maker was more than full of opinions about those facts that he didn’t at all hide from the detective during their friendship. But Otto’s gruffness was chipped away by Mark’s eagerness to learn and try to help his girlfriend, Jana. And perhaps if Mark had been more forward with Jana about that learning process and his intentions things might’ve ended differently. Finding out your boyfriend was talking about your most intimate personal struggles with a stranger was distressing and Jana was quickly losing trust in Mark and their relationship.

All said, Jana still remained part of their social circle throughout her recovery. And, of course, the story of the lawyer who led Jana’s prosecution which almost led to her losing her license and livelihood was a whole other story. Alice and Mark together. No one saw that coming.

***

Atticus continued to stroke and massage Otto’s scalp as he finished the recollection. Somehow, the clock maker’s head had ended up on Atticus’ lap while they both reclined in bed as he spoke. The writer often wondered if Otto was part dog with the way he’d flop on them at times and how much he appreciated his head massaged.

The story had started only because Atticus mentioned how they had a fantasy of Otto and another one of their friends having hiccups simultaneously. But, they were quick to caveat, if that actually happened, they wouldn’t know how they’d contain themselves. The fantasy was still a thought that gave them some arousal, though.

The fantasy reminded Otto of the one time both he and Mark had them simultaneously and his mouth ran away with the story.

“Wow. That definitely helps fill some gaps,” Atticus said. Learning more about the history of Otto’s friendships was enlightening.

Jana had moved a few hours away by the time Atticus had met Otto. She stopped by every now and then to reconnect, but Atty hadn’t been available for those sessions. After all this time, they still hadn’t met the person who’d, in many ways, triggered the events that led Otto to meeting them.

If Otto hadn’t been such good friends with Mark, and if Atticus hadn’t been a victim of a serial robbery in their old apartment complex, then Mark wouldn’t have known to suggest Otto to them after the thief had knocked an old clock Atticus had inherited from its shelf. That clock still existed and ran perfectly after Otto had repaired it. It was in the loft bedroom where Atty found themselves often to write or decompress. It was a tambour style mantel clock. Atty had it in their house growing up. Atticus didn’t even know which side of the family it was from. With both of their parents gone, they probably never would.

Clocks aside, Mark needing Otto’s guidance on Jana, in some twisted way, made it possible for Atticus and Otto to find each other. So, Atticus might owe Jana as much gratitude for them being together as Mark.

“Yeah, I forget you don’t know all of this stuff,” Otto admitted. Atticus seemed so integrated into his life that it didn’t occur to him to tell them how everyone connected.

All of Atticus’ friends were in their home state (or were relationships they’d made online). Once they’d moved, they had to make new connections. It just so happened, timewise, that Otto was one of those first connections.

“Mark was lucky to have you,” Atty said.

“Yeah, well, he saw me a lot worse than that later that year when I fell off the whole sobriety wagon. So…” Otto trailed off and seemed to snuggle his head further into the softness of Atticus’ thighs.

Atticus sighed. That story they’d heard. It wasn’t a pleasant one.

“You don’t have to do that,” they said. “Qualify your good deeds with having been more of a challenge to deal with at some other point in time. You’re a good person and you’re good at taking care of people. It’s okay to admit that.” Atticus scratched their short nails along the back of Otto’s head when they felt his neck tense.

“I know,” he finally said, breathing warmth onto Atticus’ legs in a huff. “I just wasn’t for so long...but...yeah, I know.”

“All I know is who I see, and who I see is amazing,” Atty said. They smiled as Otto turned on his back to look at them.

“Yeah, well, you’re pretty amazing, too,” Otto said, lips pulling back in a smile showing just a little bit of teeth, but it was a smile that met his eyes. “And that thing you said about not qualifying your positive traits? You’re gonna, like, do that too, right? Maybe give that one a place in the old self-talk dialogue?”

Otto’s finger reached up to tap Atticus’ temple as the writer glared at him.

“See? This is why I don’t give you compliments. Always got to turn them back on me. Like weaponized kindness. Smug bastard,” Atticus muttered.

Otto laughed.

“So what did they sound like?” Atty asked sheepishly.

“What?” Otto asked with a frown as he led one of Atticus’ hands to the middle of his chest and rubbed his hand over theirs. Atty had yet to figure out why Otto preferred their hand in that spot, but they felt honored, for some reason, to be led there.

“Mark’s…” they stuttered and stopped, then they tried again, “Mark’s hiccups.”

“Oh!” Otto said in understanding. Then he scrunched his brows again while thinking. Mark’s hiccups were so distinctive, and he was trying to figure out how to word the description accurately.

“They were kind of, um, gulpy? They seemed really powerful. Like each hiccup really rocked his body back. Um. Kind of wet, too? Not sure if that’s the right way to describe it, but it was like there was wetness in the back of his throat whenever he hiccuped that sort of...sounded...I dunno…” he struggled to find the word before he gave up and shrugged “...wet!”

“You said you kind of thought he was going to throw up at first?” Atticus asked.

“Well, I mean, yeah. But he didn’t. They were just really powerful and sort of...liquidy,” Otto said, still shaking his head with the inaccurate description.

“So, wet,” Atticus confirmed lamely.

“Yeah. Like the sound of someone who just drank something when they swallow. That sticky sound in the back of their throat, you know?”

“Oh yeah! Yeah, I know what you’re talking about! Okay...wow...actually that sounds kind of hot,” Atty said.

“Yeah?” Otto asked, grinning.

“Shaddup,” they responded grumpily.

“No, I think it’s cute. What do you like about mine?” Otto fished.

“You know, I like that yours are fast. As long as they don’t bother you too much.”

“Do I have any...hot sounding hiccups?” he asked. He was rubbing Atticus’ hand again.

“It’s just the variety,” Atticus said after a while. “Each hiccup is different. Each one is a surprise. I like when you muffle them and they get louder, and harder, and longer, one after the other, until you sound hoarse and have to open your mouth to let sharper ones out. I-I like what they do to your body. Gawd, Otto, your body moves with every hiccup. Your cute, soft belly jumps and jiggles so much and you do that thing where when your head is jerked back you blink like you’re surprised. And, just, the way you react, man. How you’re so casual with them but also trying to be considerate about them with other people or when you get a little annoyed that they’re interrupting you when you’re trying to say something it’s all just so...hot. Guh…”

Atticus could feel heat crawling up their neck in both arousal and embarrassment.

“Well damn,” Otto whispered.

“Sorry.”

“No, don’t be. I mean, when you say it like that, it does sound kind of hot,” Otto admitted. He put his fingers up to his mouth and started subconsciously nibbling at his cuticles in thought. “So, it’s not just hiccups but all the stuff around hiccups. I mean obviously it’s the body movements and the sound, but it’s more. It’s how I interact with my hiccups that’s some of what turns you on. The unexpectedness of them. Is it, maybe...Is it because I’m flustered by them?”

“Sometimes,” Atty admitted.

Otto nodded, squinting in more thought.

“I think...that’s sort of why I get turned on by seeing people aroused. They aren’t completely in control, so they just react without...being able to help it. And if they’re trying to hide it and I know it? That’s so hot. Seeing them interact with people and me knowing how hard they’re trying to keep control. Not exactly something we can ever roleplay, but it doesn’t take much when I notice that anyway. My favorite part is...well...watching them relieve the feeling. The myriad of emotion. Jeez. I dunno. My body just—and nothing else really triggers that arousal for me. Doesn’t matter how attractive someone is. It’s that. And I’m there in an instant,” Otto said.

“I can definitely understand that. Damn. It’s bedtime and I am so charged right now,” Atticus admitted.

“Me, too. You...you wanna watch one of those files I made for you? While-while I watch you?” Otto asked in a small voice.

Atticus gasped.

“Oh, gawd, can we? I didn’t even...I’ll get my ear buds. You probably don’t wanna hear yourself. Gawd, I want this so much!” Atty said.

That night as Atty watched the first video where Otto made his hiccups faster by holding his breath (recommended by Otto, himself) and Otto watched Atticus, the writer couldn’t be more grateful to Jana and Mark for their involvement in getting the two of them together. Never would Atticus had ever thought that a relationship could be this symbiotic and honest, that kindness battles were the worst of their spats, and that their most serious moments came from wanting to take care of each other and expressing their gratitude for each other.

[isaiku]

anika. i don’t wanna see you with anyone but me / nobody gets me sza.

fem!reader / warnings n notes! no scream vi spoilers + not a part of the plotline.

— angst to fluff, arguments, jealousy, alcohol, vomiting, ooc anika. lmk if i missed anything please!

a scowl paints over your features, the party only just started. as you sit next to anika who’s in between you and mindy. the pair giggling together as you try to distract yourself with your phone, looking away from the two to try and distract yourself.

“hey,” anika starts, “you okay? you’ve been on your phone since we arrived,” she asks, you look at her shrugging, “i’m fine, babe. you asked me to go with you, but you seem pretty comfortable yourself here.” you mumble, the air tense around you two.

mindy glances at the two of you — noticing there’s something going on, she quickly mumbles an excuse before leaving her spot. anika waits until she’s out of sight before looking at you once again, no expression on her face but you could tell what went through her mind by just looking at her eyes. she’s mad at you is she?

your face drops at the thought, removing your eyes from hers and looking straight ahead. leaning back on the couch as you bit inside your cheek, breath slightly shaking, fidgeting with your fingers.

her eyes stay in you for a while — as if she’s trying to read your body language. she sighs while smiling softly, “what’s bothering you now.” she asks. you shake your head, her body facing you, her arm leans against the couch, brows furrowed together. you don’t reply, only glancing at her before looking away once again, “nothing.” you breathe out.

“y/n, i brought you with me because i thought we were gonna have fun together,” she says, “why don’t you have fun with mindy then, like you two have been for the past couple of days?” you reply as put your phone away.

“are you seriously jealous right now?” she asks, confused. “there’s nothing going on between us, you know that. i thought we went through this already.” you stay silent, still staring at her.

“it’s just, you sometimes just act like i’m not there when you’re with her or something, look i’m not asking for a—“

“can— can we just deal with this later? i just want to this party to go smoothly and not having to stress about anything, please?” she interrupts you, grabbing your shaking hands.

you glance at your hands, pursing your lips together as you want to say more but you didn’t want to stress her even more. “i just think it’s better if we deal it and solve it now and quick, the party just started, ani’. you’re the one who says that communicating is important.” you plead but she only shakes her head.

“whatever, i’m not gonna deal with this right now. come find me later, or something.” she stands up, walking away and leaving you alone to god knows what, probably searching for mindy again.

fuck, you stare at her until she’s gone and out of sight, a tear slipping down, quickly wiping it away. you stand up from the couch too, walking towards to where the drinks are.

you don’t know how long it’s been, you can’t recognise anyone around you and you can’t find your girlfriend either. you’re leaning towards the counter. you’ve lost count on how much you drank but the empty cups in front of you explain otherwise.

“hey y/n, jesus— what happened to you?” you look over to find tara next to you, chad just right behind her, both look at you in concern. “shit, you look like a mess,” chad says, who receives a small smack from tara who moves closer to you, taking the drink from your hands and putting it elsewhere, they notice the amount of empty red plastic cups next to you, chad and tara take notice of this.

tara puts an arm around your figure, taking you away from the kitchen and sitting you down to the same couch once again, chad following behind. “where’s anika?” she asks, you tense slightly and she notices, “i’ll try looking for her if you want,” chad mentions, you shake your head and a hiccup escapes your lips, “i already tried,” tara glancing at chad before looking back at you,

“did something happen?” tara asks, you shrug. “i think you should really go home y/n, look at the state you’re in. we should call anika.”

“it’s whatever, i can handle myself.” you stammer.

“i think it’s more important that she takes you home and takes care of you,” she says, you open your mouth to say something.

and that’s when you feel something bubbling up your chest.

by your expression tara and chad react quickly. placing your arms around their shoulders to support you, taking you towards the bathroom.

you gag, trying to hold everything in before they place you down and you kneel in front of the toilet before you puke everything up, tara tries to move all the hair that’s in the way from your face. chad grimaces before quickly making his way out to get anika,

“where’s she— fuck.” you hear footsteps rushing behind you, anika walks in and finds you and tara, she sighs in relief. you calmed down but you feel it bubbling inside you again a few times, “you should’ve seen the amount of cups she had with her,” you head chad.

“thank god you were there for her, i’ll take care of her now.” she thanks tara and chad who nods before walking out and closing the door, you continue to puke up before flushing the toilet completely and attempt to wipe your lips with your sleeve, anika stops you — grabbing a tissue and wiping it off herself.

you lean your body against the toilet, “how stupid are you?” she jokes, “i leave for a few minutes and then chad runs to me all panicked,” she grabs a water bottle that she had with her, taking the cap off before handing it to you, you take sips from it before giving it back and she places it aside.

she turns you around and brings your messy hair up in to a ponytail, using the hair-tie from her wrist to hold it all up. you lean back against the wall, silence fills the room between you two, other than the beats from the room outside.

“are you still angry at me?” you mumble out, her expression softens. she takes a hold of you hand, intertwining your fingers together.

“of course not,” she sighs out, “i feel bad.” she continues, “like really bad. i shouldn’t have stressed you out and saying to deal with out problems later, and then leaving you right after in a room full of strangers.” she sits next to you, heads leaning against each other.

she looks at you, bringing out a chapstick. “look at me real quick,” she says and you face her, she grabs your chin with her fingers gently and applies it on your chapped lips that dried after the incident, you smile at her.

she smiles back, pecking your shiny lips and you gag — “kissing me right after i puke?” she giggles, her expression falters. “i’m really sorry, baby. i shouldn’t have left you there,” she whispers, you shake your head, “it’s fine.” you say. you stare at each other for a while, breathing steady as you two feel comfortable at each other’s presence,

—are you still jealous of mindy?” she raises her eyebrows in a teasing way, you scoff at her, pushing her away and getting up from your spot. walking out of the room as she chases behind you, the two of you smiling at each other.