#I think about it daily and have to take a seat and do those anxiety breathing exercises

[mid13s]

when you remember achilles and patroclus are separated again so you have to die

[berrryparfait]

sweet, sweet dessert ⋆୨୧˚

❥ req by: @sadfragilegirl | prompt

— ༉‧₊ᐟ featuring: xavier x fem-afab!reader

— ༉‧₊ᐟ premise: the food is delectable, the ambience serene. your first date with xavier is going perfectly—so much so that you just might decide to grab dessert on the way home instead. 「you're taking me to new places...」

— ༉‧₊ᐟ tags/cws: [nsfw] fluff and smut, wholesome dinner date, not-so-wholesome car sex, reader realizes she's falling in love

— ༉‧₊ᐟ word count: 1.6k

— ♫₊ᐟ soundtrack: touch – keshi

✧ a/n: sorry this took a while! i loved this prompt so much i wanted to make sure i did it justice XD

Everything about tonight is perfect.

Soft, jazzy music plays in the background, their sensual symphony occasionally interrupted by the soft clinking of champagne flutes and idle chatter between lovers. Everyone here is dressed to the nines, including you.

You take a seat opposite your date, fanning the underside of your dress out elegantly and trying not to let your nerves get the best of you. Your heart is pounding so loudly you’re afraid he can hear it—afraid he’ll figure out he’s the cause of your anxiety. How could he not be? He looks undeniably gorgeous in that finely-pressed suit, his hair styled neatly and his skin almost glowing in the warm candlelight.

But the gentle expression on his face reassures you. You notice the way his eyes light up when you sit down across him, and it calms you. “You look beautiful,” he remarks shyly, and you reply with a simple thanks.

Is this what a date between two introverts looks like?

You tell yourself to stop freaking out and enjoy the evening. After all, how many times in your life will you get to dine at a fancy place like this, with a genuinely good guy like him?

“I took the liberty of asking the chef to prepare his finest, no specifics included. I hope that’s okay with you.” He looks away then, a sheepish blush spreading across his face.

“Of course. I love food surprises,” you giggle. Was that weird?

Xavier smiles at the sound of your laugh, and your breath catches in your throat. God, he’s so sexy. “Me too. I also sleep a lot, if we’re revealing fun facts about ourselves.”

You laugh at his “fun fact”, relieved. “I wouldn’t have pegged you for a deep sleeper.” A lie. He looks sleepy already. But not in a way that implies he’s bored—more so that he missed his daily afternoon nap. “My turn. I think you’re very charming, Xavier.” It’s a bold statement, bolder than you would’ve tried with any other guy.

But he makes you feel safe, somehow. He’s not like the others. It’s a strange feeling; you’ve barely known each other a week and you already trust him with your life.

He blushes furiously, smirking. That was a really hot smirk. “I think you’re quite charming yourself, <y/n>.”

Suddenly, the temperature in the room skyrockets. The air has shifted—at least from your point of view. All this flirtation has escalated things from zero to a hundred, and you’re shocked—maybe even scandalized—by the thoughts that materialize in your head. Slow down, you ravenous slut. The guy doesn’t even know your favorite color!

You decide to shove those thoughts aside for later tonight. This is your first date, for goodness sake. Why are you thinking about his—

“Where do you work?” he interrupts your train of thought, a favor you’ll have to repay him.

The two of you fall deep into possibly the best conversation you’ve ever had, switching from topics like movies to siblings and music to lifelong dreams. He’s an incredibly insightful person, yet he never speaks out of turn and waits patiently while you fumble for the right words. He’s a great listener.

It turns you on.

I’m a horrible person, you think to yourself, berating your cycle for ringing in ovulation week now. “Are you alright?” he asks, mildly concerned.

Fuck, he noticed you zoning out. “Yeah, of course! Sorry, you were saying?”

That little smirk again. “I asked if you wanted to get dessert.”

“I never say no to dessert.”

“Shall we drive out?”

…

You step into the passenger’s seat of his car and try your best not to gape. It’s the most beautiful car you’ve ever seen, maybe, all smooth surfaces and shiny metal plates. He climbs in next to you after shutting your door, and instantly you’re consumed by his scent; pine leaves and fresh herbs. It leaves you feeling thick and heady and pools right in your core.

Stop. Thinking. About. It.

“Ready?” He starts the engine and waits for your cue.

You nod, unable to form words. Think about dessert. Strawberry shortcake. Crème brûlée. Lemon sherbert. It works for a while, before you notice the thin veins on his hands and the way his side profile looks in the dim moonlight.

This is the most painful drive ever. “Where are we going?” you ask, hoping for a distraction.

“There’s this really good ice cream place not far from here. I was thinking I could drop you home after.”

“That sounds great. Thanks.”

You sit in silence for the next fifteen minutes, watching the trees pass as he expertly navigates his way through the darkness. You aren’t exactly in the most accessible of areas right now, driving from one town to another and all.

He slows down then, staring at his GPS. A crease appears between his brows. “If you don’t mind, I’m going to park in this corner for a little while to check if we’re going in the right direction. This GPS can be faulty at times.”

If it were anyone else, your suspicions would’ve been raised. But Xavier has a way of making you feel completely at ease. You know in your heart that he wouldn’t try anything on you. Besides, you told a bunch of your friends about your date tonight, and they know who to call if anything were to happen to you.

As he fiddles with the GPS, pushing all these little buttons you would’ve had no idea how to work out, you attempt to avert your gaze from his slender fingers and that annoyingly seductive scent. It doesn’t work this time. Thoughts of dessert can only get you so far when there’s a whole dish sitting right next to you.

On an impulse, you do something you would’ve never done before tonight. You lean in close and gently kiss him on the corner of his mouth.

It’s a small peck, but his eyes go wide. He straightens and looks at your lips, struggling to even speak. “I—You—”

“Shhh…” you whisper, suddenly feeling brave. You stretch over the gear stick to plant another kiss underneath his eye, then one on his cheek. You’re in an uncomfortable position right now, back arched across two seats with your ass up facing the foggy window, but you don’t care. You’re so turned on right now he’s all you can think about.

He doesn’t pull away from your advances, instead slowly running his hands around your waist to guide you onto his lap. Every few seconds, a car zooms past. It’s exhilarating.

You settle inches away from his groin, placing your elbows on his shoulders and your hands on the back of his seat. When your lips meet, sparks explode from your chest, and your brain is flooded with him. The way his lips taste—feel. The warmth growing between your legs.

He kisses you back eagerly, his breath against your lips as he mutters, “What…about…dessert…”

“Fuck dessert… Later…” You grind against him, and he whines at the sensation. He’s hard as a rock, and he knows it.

Fucking on the first date? Why the hell not.

You reach for his belt, but he gets there first. He fumbles a little, too engrossed in your kisses, but he pulls it free with a single, devastatingly sexy tug.

Your hands grasp at his zipper and boxers next, and with one fluid movement his hard length is exposed to you. Fuck, he’s big. You clench at the sight of him, your clit throbbing.

Realizing that precious time is being wasted, you lift yourself up on your knees and pull your dress up to your waist. He pulls your wet panties to the side, drowning in the sight of your dripping pussy mere inches from his tip.

You slide onto him, feeling the length of his cock rub against your walls for the first time. It’s too much—the pressure, the friction. He throws his head back in pleasure, eyes squeezing shut as you clench around him.

Slowly, you begin to bounce on his dick, your moans echoing within the car as every pump sends your mind into a thoughtless spiral. His thumbs are digging into your waist, his fingers around your ass. “Fuck— You’re so—tight—” he bites out, his breaths belabored and strangled. He pushes the neckline of your dress down, freeing you tits and letting them bounce in his face.

It’s overwhelming. The feeling of your clit hitting the hard plane of his stomach. His tip planting wet kisses on the back of your cervix. The wet noises and vulgar squelches permeating the air. His cock pounding against your g-spot. The thought of you fucking a guy you just met in his car.

A guy you may or may not be falling in love with.

“I’m going to cum— I’m—” You both come undone at the same time, warm spurts of cum filling you up as you shake uncontrollably in his grip, your mind completely blank save for the blinding intensity of your first orgasm in ages.

When you’ve slid back into your seat, cum still dripping from your pulsating cunt, you’re both utterly exhausted. He’s the first to recover, his pants growing softer as he reaches for a blanket in the back seat and drapes it over your body. “Do you…need anything?”

You smile at him wearily, a warm glow emanating from every inch of you. He’s so sweet.

“I’d really like some dessert.”

— ⋆˙⟡ ©berrryparfait

《 please do not copy / plagiarize / translate my works or publish them on any other platforms. 》

[sweetestcaptainhughes]

What are you trying to say? - Trevor Zegras

Word Count - 3600

Author's Note - I 100 percent projected my own dysleixia hardcore into this. This was 100 percent written for the dyslexic girlies and learning disability girlies only. Also not me accidentally maybe becoming a Trevor girlie after writing this oh no. This one is by far my favorite segment.

Warnings - light angst but like it ends happy shocking for this page, who am I becoming???

Summary - In the talking stage with Trevor Zegras you're not sure how his joking personality will respond to your struggles that you have with being an adult with dyslexia, especially since it doesn't affect you how media expects it to.

Let me love you masterlist main masterlist

This isn’t something new to you, you’ve struggled your entire life with the fact that you're dyslexic. It’s a lot more complicated than people may recognize. Many people assume that it only comes up when you're trying to read something like a textbook or an article, and that when you’re finished with school it won’t really affect your daily life anymore but that’s far from the truth. In truth, being an adult with dyslexia affects you in little ways daily. From having difficulty knowing your left and right when given verbal directions, your spelling being terrible when texting others, mispronouncing certain words and being easily embarrassed when it gets pointed out, or worse sometimes the word is literally on the tip of your tongue you can even physically see in your brain but your mouth can’t form the proper sounds, how certain fonts you struggle to read vs others, or that black ink on white paper is the bane of your existence.  Although all of these are “little” things, it does impact the way you communicate with others. It does feel extremely frustrating sometimes feeling like people think that you're using your dyslexia as an “excuse” when in reality your brain is wired completely differently because of it. 

Since you first met Trevor and started talking to him, you had that fear you always do in the pit of your stomach, will he pick on you the first time that he truly can’t understand a text or the first time he hears you mispronounce a word despite years of speech therapy where you tried to but still you can’t pronounce correctly. Although, part of you knew that your fear was extremely irrational, part of you couldn’t shake the feeling that was until proven otherwise the jokester in Trevor would make a joke about something you truly couldn’t control. 

That is until today, when it happened it’s one of those rare days when you were driving and Trevor was in the passenger seat. His car was in the shop, and he needed a ride back from the arena to his apartment. Originally he was going to take an Uber but since you both already had plans after the morning skate you insisted on picking him up. 

“It’s easiest if you take this right up here to get back to my place.” He directs you without looking up from his phone,you tell him okay, turn on your left turn signal and get in the left lane. Trevor finally looks up from his phone while you're waiting at the red light for it to turn green to see you're in the wrong lane. 

“Sweetie?” asking in a questioning tone

“Hmmm” 

“This is the left lane. I told you to take a right.” Trevor says in a concerning tone as to how you were five traffic lanes away from where you needed to be. 

“sorry I thought you said ‘left’. I can make a u-turn?” Deciding in the moment you didn’t want to admit that you heard him correctly but processed the direction wrong, you offered as the traffic light finally turned green. 

“It’s alright we can just take the long way. Don’t worry about a u-turn.”  Not seeming to care at all that it will add an extra 10 minutes to the drive due to the mistake. 

As you continued driving you ended up making another wrong turn, Trevor put his left hand on your thigh and subconsiously rubbed small circles into skin to comfort your growing anxiety, he could feel this odd tension that was built up in the car. “Can you point please?” your voice barely over a whisper as you felt extremely embarrassed all of a sudden and started feeling overwhelmed all of a sudden. 

“Yeah Y/N/N I can do that, we could also switch places. I can drive you the rest of the way if you need it if you're feeling anxious all of a sudden.” Trevor was being really sweet, trying to fix the problem at hand thinking it was just some anxious thoughts and not your brain processing audible information incorrectly. 

“No, pointing is good.” Forcing yourself to look straight ahead because you don’t want to accidentally catch his eyes as he looks at you with a worried look. He squeezes your thigh in a comforting way and drops the topic. The rest of the ride felt quick as he pointed and said the direction you needed to go until you reached his apartment. Finding a parking spot in the garage you parked your car, as soon as you felt your foot on the brake, and your right hand pulled the gear in park, you leaned back automatically and sighed grateful you were done driving. Trevor still had his hand on your thigh, he turned his neck so that his head was also resting on the headrest. 

Trevor patiently waited until you opened your eyes, turning to him with a soft smile. “You ready?” you ask him, as you start to unbuckle your seatbelt. As you grab your purse from the back, your hand on the door handle. His hand that was on your thigh is gone and immediately pulls you by the wrist back into your seat. As he takes his other hand and gently places it on your cheek forcing you to look at him. 

“Can we talk about it?” His voice was steady, calm, confident but soft, almost as if he was scared of your reaction. 

Smiling a little wider now, in a split second you try to decide what you want to do. Do you want to tell a boy who you’ve only been casually talking to and hanging out with a handful of times - one of them being this current moment - about being dyslexic. Although it’s not that big of a deal in retrospect, it’s something that you can never take back once you said the words. Even though it’s something so simple and common no one ever looks at you the same again. Were you ready to tell Trevor, and see his face change permanently or did you want to live in ignorant bliss for a little longer. 

“I’m fine, it’s just when I drive somewhere new I like listening to the GPS and not a person telling me directions, it helps me focus better is all.” sheepishly you admit. 

Ignorant Bliss. That’s the choice you made. 

“Okay well next time, can you tell me that so I don’t have to watch you stress yourself out please?” His hand that was on your wrist, going down to your hand playing with your hand. Taking your hand that he was playing with, fully grasping his you squeeze his hand as a silent yes, and nod your head. He leans over the middle console and quickly peaks your lips as if it was a last minute impulse and he meant the cheek. “Thank you, let's go inside.” 

—-------------------------------

Living in ignorant bliss was great for a few weeks, until you started to actually like Trevor. Talking to a guy for a few months and it not going anywhere vs meeting someone and potentially seeing at least an exclusive relationship with them were two very different things. Knowing that you saw a relationship with him in the future meant it was only a matter of time before he found out that your dyslexic which again isn’t that big of a deal, but the fact that you also lied to him a few weeks ago. Not telling him is one thing, but lying when he asked why you were struggling to drive that day is a completely different act. 

Trying to put off the inevitable you tried to push the thought to the back of your mind. Somehow convincing yourself that if you didn’t think about it, then the problem would disappear he would never find out. I mean when you didn’t know how to spell a word while texting, you just spoke it into your phone. As far as grammar no one really had perfect grammar when texting including Trevor to be perfectly honest he probably didn’t even notice half the time. Plenty of people kept all their devices in dark mode for plenty of reasons, he had no reason to ask, although you did it because it helped your eyes stay focused on the words in front of you, not for the aesthetic. 

Even so, with all of these excuses as to why he wouldn’t notice you failed to remember that certain words you truly can’t pronounce the correct way no matter how hard you try. It all came crashing down tonight when you were at Trevor’s apartment cooking dinner for the both of you. Dinner was almost done at this point, when Trevor came behind you just now re-entering the kitchen after taking an expected call from his little sister. Trevor wrapped his arms around your waist, his head resting on top of your shoulder. 

“Everything okay?” you ask your curiosity getting the best of you, even though you know it’s none of your business. 

“Yeah she’s fine.” Pressing a kiss into where your jawline and neck meet. “smells good.” He compliments your cooking as he teases you one more time with a small nip with his teeth where he just kissed you, before pulling away and resting his head on your shoulder. 

Answering shyly, you let out a “thank you.”

“Anything I can help with?” asking genuinely although you're not sure if it’s to be kind or if it’s because he’s hungry but either way you’ll take it. As he slowly unwraps himself from you, getting ready to help you in any way you need. 

Without looking up from the chicken that you're grilling on the stove, trying to concentrate on the task at hand you answer him. “Yeah actually can you grab out the mellk from the fridge for the mashed potatoes.” Not even thinking twice about what you just said until you heard a chuckle coming from across the kitchen. 

“What babe?” standing in front of a now open fridge, he could have sworn you tried to say milk but botched the word so badly, it couldn’t have possibly been.

“the mellk” finally noticing what you asked for, knowing this is one of the words people can’t help but point out how you butcher it. 

“What are you trying to say?” he asked, truly confused now that he heard it twice. 

“M - il - k “ you repeat slowing down your mouth trying to force yourself to pronounce it properly but also not speak too slowly. Hoping that it's noticeable as you force your tongue to the roof of your mouth to make the “il” sound.  

A small chuckle leaves Trevor’s lips but it wasn’t a malicious way, it was as if he chuckled because he found it adorable. “Here's the milk baby.” walking back over to you and placing it on the empty counter space next to the bowl of steaming hot cooked potatoes. Taking the chicken off the hot burner you moved to the island to where the potatoes were. 

“Sorry” you mumble as he stands beside you, his hip resting on the side of the island. 

“For what?” His eyebrows frowned, his eyes focused the side of your face the only thing he could see. Focusing on the task at hand, you used the potato masher and mashed the potatoes. Opening the milk and adding a little along with some butter that you set out earlier. 

Feeling the rise of some anxiety in your stomach, hoping that you could procrastinate just a little longer on admitting that you didn’t tell him the whole truth. Deciding if now was the time or if you were gonna dig yourself in a bigger hole by wrapping yourself in a thicker web of tiny white lies. 

Finally turning your head to the side to face him and taking a deep breath. 

For good measure making one more deep breath before you barely utter the words, your nerves getting the better of you. “I lied.” 

Trevor’s face immediately changed from confusion and concern. In an instant it became shocking and almost hurt, that the girl he thought was actually going somewhere a month in, is admitting to lying to him. Not when he told her in the beginning that lying wasn’t something he tolerated after his ex lied to him for months and manipulated him. Not when he just told his little sister not even ten minutes ago on the phone that tonight he was gonna ask you to be his official girlfriend. “What are you talking about?” his voice cracking before he could even get the word out, quickly clearing his throat to cover up his own insecurities about the possible tension that could slowly be felt brewing in his kitchen. 

“Remember a few weeks, when I was driving you to your apartment from the stad-” 

“What the FUCK does that have to do with lying to me? When did you lie to me Y/N” Not only has Trevor never once raised his voice at you in a not joking way, but he’s never cursed at you, and his tone made you close your eyes and flinch at the impact. Immediately, seeing you flinch he sighed his hand going to lightly crease her arm closest to him. “When did you lie?” asking at a much softer tone than moments before. 

“I’m trying to explain.” Trevor could have sworn he felt his chest hurt when he heard you struggling to speak, as if you were trying to get yourself not to cry. “Please let me explain.” 

“Okay” he softly let out, as he squeezed your arm not sure if he was trying to comfort you or himself as he felt the possibility of you slipping through his fingers. 

“A few weeks ago when I drove you home.” finally turning her body fully turning to face him. “I lied, When you asked me what happened. I told you I need the GPS because I get overwhelmed.” Pausing to make sure that Trevor was following along, he nodded along, “I lied, sort of,” your voice picking up in speed with each word you uttered out  “I mean I do get overwhelmed while driving but it’s not because of that it’s not that I” 

“Baby please take a breath you're scaring me” His other arm is going to cup your cheek, even though he was mad before as he heard you fixated on driving him home a few weeks ago. He knew it couldn’t have possibly been any of the terrible ideas that popped into his head, at least Trevor hoped not.

 “I sometimes get my left and right confused.” Looking up trying to gauge his reaction, watching as one of his eyebrows go down, as if to say ‘that’s all.’ 

“Okay. So that was the lie? Everyone gets confused sometimes and makes mistakes baby it’s okay” His famous smile slowly takes over his face. 

“That’s the thing is it isn’t sometimes, it’s kind of a lot when I’m driving when someone is giving me directions without pointing, and there are other things too. I mean they're small but they still affect me almost daily and I just.” 

Deciding to take a breath because if you don’t you will be more likely to trip up your words or stutter. “I’m dyslexic and it’s not really how they describe the movies.” 

His smile dropped a little and you swear it felt as if your heart felt as if it had just dropped a hundred flights down the Empire State building. “Dyslexic. Like you mix up letters when reading?”

“Yeah but it’s more than that.”

“Okay. But why didn’t you tell me when it happened? Why did you say it’s because you get overwhelmed.” 

“Because I do get overwhelmed when I make dumb mistakes like that. Plus, everytime I tell someone they never look at me the same. A lot of times they are shocked, and they also sometimes judge me because how does it not affect me the way the media portrays it? Why do I mispronounce words, why can’t I tell my left and right when someone gives me a direction, why I can’t read maps to save my fucking life but yet if I don’t have my GPS running I’m bound to a wrong turn, why does sometimes my mind decide I either can’t come up with a word at all or I can physically see it but I can’t say it and I can’t spell it because I’m such a bad speller.” 

“Shhh” not trying to cut you off but also trying to get you to breathe. “So you didn’t tell me cause you were scared I would look at you differently? Or judge you when something you can’t control comes out at random times of the day? That’s why you told me to point instead of just saying it because you didn’t wanna tell me in fear?” Not sure his tone is showing remorse for you thinking that at all or hurting that you ever would think of him in that way. 

“Yeah.” you embarrassingly admit.

Trevor spent the rest of the night listening to you and how your brain was different due to your own personal experience with being a dyslexic. The next morning you found him reading an article about the effects of different lighting and how dark mode was the best for dyslexics and certain fonts were better than others. It made you chuckle as you told him you knew and that’s why your phone was permanently in dark mode.  That day, he changed all the settings on his tv’s in his entire apartment for dark mode, even all of his own personal devices. Finding it adorable that he went on a tangent when he found out certain apps don’t support dark mode and how he said it was discriminating. Finding it harder and harder for yourself to hide your soft smile as you watched him continue his rant, your heart swelling at how passionate he sounded. 

“I really like you, you know.” you admitted when he finally stopped complaining about how Mirosoft finally started supporting dark mode it was still ‘white paper’ on black ink so they really missed the whole point. 

“Oh yeah.” as he grabs you, pulling you towards him on the couch, tangling your legs with his. 

“Yup” popping the p for emphasis.

“I really like you too. Actually I was gonna ask you.. Wanna make this official and let me call you mine.” The blush was obvious on your face, immediately turning a light red shade, nodding your head he pulled you into a soft kiss. 

—---------------------------------------------

A few weeks later you were out to dinner with a few close friends and Trevor. Currently trying to tell a story about one of your new coworkers and how you didn’t like him but mid sentence you froze. Trevor had yet to see you freeze because the word you planned to say completely escaped you. Of course this wasn’t new to your friends as they saw the familiar signs, the way in which you paused, your lips pursed in a questioning way, your hand coming up and shaking knowing it was on the tip of your tongue and you just couldn’t think of it or couldn’t pronounce it. 

What your friends weren’t used to was seeing Trevor respond to it. His response to you struggling made all of them share a glance in approval of his small action. He took your shaking hand and slipped it into his own. Immediately your small flustered expression on your face turns to him. Your friends couldn’t hear what you were saying between yourselves if you were even talking at all, but they could see the care in Trevors eyes and how your frustration seemed to melt away.

“Hi” he whispers only for you to hear after a couple seconds pass. 

A smile breaks out on your face. “Hi” 

“What are you trying to say?” repeating the same sentence that he asked you weeks ago when you asked him to get the milk out the fridge. 

“I can’t think of it.” a sigh leaving your lips. 

“Describe it.” His forehead resting on yours as you look into his eyes. 

“You know, like a red flag.” 

“Like in dating? So a slang term?” 

“I think.” Pausing for a few seconds for your brian to catch up. “But I know it’s not called a red flag, but it’s like it, I think, like when someone does something and immediately you're like ew.” 

“An ick?” he softly suggests. Immediately your mouth forms into an o-shape in shock, making his mouth twitch into the slightest smile. Kissing his check quickly and whispering a quick ‘thanks’ and turning back to your friends. 

“Okay so like this new dude thinks he can come in and just boss all me and my other co-workers around. That’s not even the worst part like not only is he lowkey sexist, he literally only wears highwaters, immediate ick…” Trevor sat there half listening to your story with a huge smile on his face, hand on your thigh drawing patterns subconsciously as he sipped on his drink. He loves listening to you talk, how you get lost in telling stories and he’s happy he was able to help you instead of you pushing it to the side like you did all those months ago. 

That’s how it is from that night on, anytime you text him and he can’t understand it, or you can’t think of a word, or butcher the pronunciation; he will simply turn to you and ask “What are you trying to say?” 

[p-artsypants]

Flight of the Valkyrie (5) Preparations

Ao3

Hiccup wouldn’t admit that he was glad to get away from Astrid. She was really lovely, and pretty, and a great kisser! 

But his heart was going to explode if he spent more time with her. He needed to calm down. He needed to decompress and let his anxieties flutter away. 

Which is why he was heading back into the woods with a basket of fish. Toothless was just the friend he needed. 

The Nightfury was sunning himself on the sandy shore of the cove’s pond. 

“Hey bud!” Hiccup greeted, warmly. 

Toothless perked up, and patted over eagerly for scratches. 

“I know, you must be starving! For food and for attention!” 

But Toothless didn’t pry into the basket yet, opting to get love from Hiccup first. 

And Hiccup was eager to give it, frantically scratching over the scales on his side. “Who’s a good dragon? Who’s a powerhouse of destruction? Who can blow up a catapult with a single blast? It’s you!” 

“Wurrrrp!” 

“Yes! It’s you!” Hiccup chuckled. 

Toothless nuzzled into his stomach, and then went for the basket of fish. 

Hiccup took a massive sigh and felt his body relax. All the tension in his shoulders disappeared and he felt at peace. As Toothless settled in to eat brunch, Hiccup took up a seat at his side. “Wow, you’ll never believe what happened since I saw you yesterday.” 

“Werr?” 

“I met my bride, Astrid. Gods above, I’ve never met a girl so pretty and cool and smooth. I guess she has to be all those things, given that she’s built like a mountain.” 

“Werr?” 

“Yeah, she’s super tall and her arms are like—“ he held his hand out over his bicep to show how much bigger she was. “You know, there’s plenty of women in town that are big and muscly, which comes with the Viking lifestyle after all. I never thought I’d find it attractive but wow…she’s beautiful. This is the luckiest break I’ve ever had. I must have pleased one of the gods recently.” He glanced at Toothless. “Probably Thor or Hel, showing pity on me for taking care of you.” 

“Merp!” 

“Do you think that’s just a gimmicky thing? Like someone thought it sounded cool, so they slapped the label on you?” 

“Rrreeeerrrr.” 

“Yeah, I wondered about that. I definitely get the ‘death’ part, but the lightning? You’re no Skrill.” 

“Rrggggrrrr.” 

“I’m not saying you’re not impressive! No need to get all defensive.” 

“Merr.” 

“Anyway. I met Astrid. I think…she might actually like me! For now at least. It’s only been one day…” 

Toothless rumbled, the vibrations further helping Hiccup relax. 

“We kissed. Twice! How crazy is that? I never thought a girl would ever kiss me. I suppose in another lifetime when we weren’t getting married, she might not have.” 

Hiccup spent about an hour in the Cove with Toothless, though he could have stayed there all day. He told him everything that had happened in the last day. And retelling it helped him center himself and see the situation in a new light. 

Whether or not Astrid liked him for who he was, she liked that he wasn’t a dirty old man, and that he apparently didn���t mind that she was as buff as she was. Maybe he could continue to stay on her good side if he reiterated that he found her perfectly womanly. 

Eventually, he had to return to the village. People would be keeping an eye out for him because of the wedding, and Gobber had probably set some work up for him. 

Not to mention the idea he had to make dipping Astrid possible. The sooner he completed his daily duties, the sooner he could get to work on that! 

“Morning lad,” Gobber greeted. “You’re here early.” 

He yawned. “I was up at dawn. I showed Astrid to a place where she could practice her axe throwing in the woods.” 

“Well isn’t that precious? You’re really taking this wedding seriously! Didn’t think you had it in you.” 

“Gee, thanks.” 

“I don’t have any work for you today. I’m getting materials made for your house. Nails, hinges, that sort of thing.” 

“Oh, nice!” 

“So you have plenty of time to work on the morning gift.” 

Hiccup halted as he had taken three steps towards his workroom. “Pardon?” 

“The morning gift? The ‘thank you for your virginity’ gift?” 

“That’s a thing?!” 

“Odin above, Hiccup! How did you not know?!” 

“In case you missed it, I found out I was getting married a few days ago, and dad has been a little busy. I thought we already gave a gift?” 

Gobber shook his head in exasperation. “Your father gave the Bride Price, compensation to Chief Axel for taking Astrid away from their tribe. During the wedding, Chief Axel will give you the dowry, which is to help you and Astrid start your married life. Then in the morning after, you will give Astrid the morning gift, something she can keep in case something happens to you.” 

“Like what?” 

“Anything, really. Jewelry, art, weaponry—“ 

“A weapon! Of course! That’s perfect, Gobber.” 

“Glad to hear it, lad.” 

Hiccup’s mind began working, a series of methods and designs flashing in his mind’s eye. “Oh! Can you do me a favor?” 

Gobber didn’t respond with words, just looked at him with narrow eyes. Apparently, he didn’t want to commit to anything, but would hear him out. 

“While you’re working on materials, could you make four iron rings, about two inches in diameter? 3/8ths gauge?” 

“Aye. For what?” 

“Wedding related.” 

Gobber frowned further. “That’s too big for a finger…” his eyes widened slightly. “Hiccup!”

“What?” 

“Surely you don’t need to introduce aids so early! And out of iron!?” 

“What are you talking about? I’m making a harness to help me dip Astrid during the wedding.” He rubbed the back of his head as he blushed. “I just thought it would be less embarrassing than having her lean down.” 

“A harness? Oh!” Gobber burst a laugh. “That makes a lot more sense! You had me there for a minute lad!” 

“…what did you think I was talking about?” 

“Nothing, nothing. Ahhh you’ll figure it out later and laugh. But aye, I’ll make your rings. Speaking of, you’ll need a pair of wedding bands too. Do you know how to make those?” 

“Yes sir.” 

“Alright, I’ll leave you to it then.” 

Hiccup got to work in his back room, sketching out schematics and measuring leather. Only an hour later, he ran into his first hiccup (hehe). 

“I’ll be back, Gobber, I need to get some measurements from Astrid.” 

“Aye! Don’t forget to get her finger, too!” 

“Yeah yeah…” 

Hiccup made his way down to the bunker, greeting several passersby that seemed chipper to see him. 

No doubt, they were thankful to him that there was going to be a party, one of a Viking’s favorite things. 

At the bunker, he knocked on the women’s side and waited. Phlegma Hofferson answered, with a big smile. She greeted with a booming voice, “why Hiccup! Didn’t think we’d see you until later, what with all the wedding planning! Can I help you with something?” 

He blushed, her voice no doubt calling attention to everyone in a 200 foot radius. 

“Uh…is Astrid available for a minute? I’m um…making something for her, and I need to measure.” 

“Of course! Come on in!” She held open the door and swept him inside. 

It felt very strange to be on this side of the bunker. He’d been around a few times to drop off materials while they were building it, and he’d been shoved into the men’s side a few times during raids. But this was a first on this side. 

Astrid sat in a chair by the fire pit, looking miserable as her sisters sat on either side. Ingrid was stitching white fabric, no doubt her wedding dress, while Sigurd was weaving a bridal crown. 

“Look who popped in!” Phlegma called. 

Hiccup watched with joy as Astrid raised her gaze to him, and her face lit up with happiness. “Hey!” She greeted. 

“Hi!” He squeaked, still embarrassed. “Uh, I need some measurements for something.” He held out his tape. 

“Oh!” Said Sigurd, setting the crown aside. “I’ll help!” She snatched the tape from his hands and fluttered her hands at Astrid, wordlessly asking her to stand. “What are we measuring?” She wiggled her eyebrows. 

This would have been a lot easier one on one, he thought, but now he’d have to explain where he wanted her to wrap the tape. 

Not to be deterred, Hiccup opened his sketchbook to the schematics. “The uh…around her ribcage, like…right under her uh…” He gestured with his fingers around his sternum. 

Sigurd thankfully didn’t tease him, and dutifully measured. 

He asked for a couple more measurements that crossed over her chest and back, marking them all down in his notebook. 

“And lastly, I need to measure her ring finger.” 

“Are you making our rings yourself?” Astrid asked. 

He nodded. 

“Wow, I didn’t know you knew how to do that too.” 

“I often get stuck making things Gobber doesn’t want to. Rings are one of them.” He took out the strip of leather he brought just for the occasion and wrapped it around her finger himself. He marked the overlap, and then pocketed it. “I guess that’s all. Thank you.” 

“You’re very welcome.” She smiled at him, raising an eyebrow. She looked like she was waiting for something. 

“Oh!” And he puckered his lips and clenched his eyes shut. 

Astrid giggled. “You’re going to need some more practice.” But she kissed him anyway, just a small peck on the lips. 

The giggles and ‘aw’s from the other women were not lost on him. 

“I’ll see you at dinner?” 

“Sure, hope you have more fun than I’m having.” 

“Doubt it!” He chuckled, before absolutely booking it out of the room. The Hofferson women were really nice and sweet, but he simply could not handle their teasing. All these emotions he was feeling, especially towards Astrid, were very new and very strange. Wonderful, exciting, but weird and kind of terrifying. Being teased about it didn’t help. 

As he made his way back to the forge, he paid careful attention to the way his heart was pounding, the fluttering in his chest, the quickening of his pulse. These were the storybook signs of love, weren’t they? At least the beginning of it. 

That didn’t take long at all!

But while he kind of enjoyed the warm fuzzy feelings buzzing through his tiny body, he feared what this would look like on the other side, when Astrid’s open reception turned to dutiful tolerance, and she only let him come as close as she had to. When he’d return home to her at night, only to receive a cold shoulder and a sneer. 

How long would that take? What would be the tipping point? Because it was coming, sure as winter in a few months, so too was reality coming for Astrid. 

She was marrying Hiccup. The village hazard. 

He returned to work, now even more motivated to make everything perfect. He had to invest in the second chance. 

Hours passed in that back room. Hiccup measured and cut and stitched his idea. The part that he would wear fit perfectly, and now all he had to do was make sure Astrid’s fit as well. 

That could wait until morning. For now, it was onto the morning gift and the wedding bands. Odin he was in for a long night.

—

At dinner time, Hiccup forced himself to take a break. Astrid was expecting him, and a little food and fresh eyes would help his projects. 

He entered the Great Hall, hearing laughter and merriment from all around. There was more wedding decor up. New, fresh garland and flowers. It was all coming together nicely. 

Of course, this was the wedding of the Chief’s son, so it better be good! 

Hiccup could see Astrid sitting with her sisters in the back corner, the same table they sat at the night before. Astrid had her head in her hand as she listened to Ingrid and Sigurd talking. 

Anxious but eager, Hiccup made up a plate from the shared food in the center of the hall. Some bread, some fish, and a spoonful of mashed turnips and peas. Not his favorite, but he was kind of hungry for once. He also got a cup of ale to drink. He came back around the main table and started walking towards Astrid’s table. 

He didn’t even notice he walked past Snotlout and the other teens. 

A foot kicked out right in front of him, tripping him and catching his foot for a second so he couldn’t even catch himself. He sprawled across the floor, smearing peas and turnips and fish and ale all over himself and the floor. 

He hadn’t even gotten to his feet before the hall was filled with echoing laughter. 

Shame and humiliation filled him as he awkwardly picked his empty cup and plate off the floor, accompanied by the sadistic laughter of his peers.

“Look at the mess you’ve made!” His aunt Hulga Jorgenson yelled at him, getting in his face. “After all the work we did to clean this hall up for you! And you go and disrespect us like this!” 

Hiccup flinched, recoiling in fear. 

Hulga grabbed him by the wrist and yanked him to the side of the room while Snotlout outright cackled. 

She took his dishes away and shoved a rag into his hands. “You better clean that up! And no dinner! We’re not wasting food on the likes of you!” 

Heart in his throat, Hiccup went back to the mess and awkwardly swept up the smear of his meal into his hand, while Snotlout and the twins flicked more food at him. 

Then things went silent, and he figured his father had entered. 

Instead, a pair of studded boots appeared in front of him. “Hiccup?” Astrid asked, her voice full of pity. 

He peered up at her, and paled at the blush on her cheeks. 

She was embarrassed. He had embarrassed her! Of course he had! All of his actions reflected on her! Now she and her family had seen first hand how the rest of the village regarded him. 

He scooped up what he could and darted away and outside, not able to say a word or anything. 

He couldn’t bear to be there anymore, and was too afraid to listen to whatever it was she was going to say next. 

Instead, he ran back to his house, changed out of his dirty clothes, and escaped out the back door to slip away into the woods. At least for a few hours, Hiccup would hide with Toothless. At least for a few hours, he could be something else. At least for a few hours, Hiccup could be safe. 

When night fell, he’d return, and dutifully get back to work. By then, no one would remember, and no one would bother him. It was better that way. 

—

The next morning, bright eyed and bushy tailed (sarcasm) Hiccup rose to meet with his bride. 

“Hiccup!” Stoick called, stopping him in the square before he could move on. 

“Hi dad…” Hiccup hunched his shoulders. He didn’t think he’d done anything wrong recently (unless Stoick found out about Toothless somehow), but he had learned to never assume anything. Maybe he’d heard about his spill in the Great Hall and would lecture him about that? He usually didn’t bother with the small things. 

“Gobber tells me you didn’t know about the morning gift. I thought you knew?” 

“Uh, no, I uh…I didn’t. But Gobber told me about it, and I made it last night, along with the wedding bands. So it’s all good!” He swallowed. “It's back at the forge. I was going to meet with Astrid, but if you want to see it…” 

Stoick furrowed his eyebrows, seemingly contemplating. “I’ve got time. Show me.” 

Hiccup nodded and dutifully led his father back to the forge. It had been a long time since Stoick asked to see his work. Especially as he had gotten ‘too creative’ in the past few years. 

In fact, he’s pretty sure he could remember when his father last checked his work. It was the day that Gobber declared his training complete, and he could move onto the next step of his apprenticeship, which was more training, but mostly under the guise of being an assistant. 

Hiccup had to make a weapon from scratch, with no help from Gobber. He decided to make a sword for his dad. He’d worked all day on it, and then revealed it to his father and Gobber for judging. Gobber had proudly claimed his training complete, while Stoick scrutinized it carefully. 

“Sharp blade, well balanced, good weight…pleasant grip.” 

Hiccup gnawed his lip in anticipation. 

“Aye son, you’ve done well. Excellent work. Too small of course, but perfect besides!” 

While he passed, the comment about the sword being too small crushed him. It had been extremely hard to make, and he was sore from all the heavy lifting. The fact that it was still too small? Then would he ever make something his father would be proud of? 

That was two years ago, and Hiccup’s voice had changed in the meantime. It was hard to tell, but maybe he got a little bigger, a little hairier. 

Stoick greeted Gobber warmly, before the smith was off gushing about Hiccup’s newest creation. 

“You’ll be jealous, old man. Just wait until you see what the lad’s made!” 

Stoick smiled. “I’m eager!” He clapped his hands together and rubbed them. 

Terrified and nervous, Hiccup first brought out a satin cloth and handed it to Stoick. “S-so first, these are the wedding bands. M-mine is just electrum. For Astrid, I took the electrum and added iron to it…the iron makes it stronger, so it won’t get scratched when she um…punches something.” 

Stoick uncovered the little cloth and held the rings in his hand. He held each one up in the light, pinching them between his fingers. In comparison with his fingers, the rings look like they were made for children. 

“Excellent work,” he murmured, holding them up to the light and letting them glint. “What’s this design you’ve done here? A wee fish?” 

“Ah yeah…” Hiccup rubbed the back of his head. It had been on a whim, when the rings were still molten, he’d taken his finest pin and etched a fish into the top of both of them for flare. The lines were so small, it was almost invisible for anyone to notice, but his father always had a very keen eye. “It’s uh…it’s a Haddock?” 

Stoick’s eyes widened and then he burst out laughing. “Oh that’s cute, son. Real cute.” 

Cute. That damn word again! 

He supposed that seeing his dad laugh and smile was at least better than seeing a disappointed shake of the head. 

Stoick carefully wrapped the rings back up and handed them back. “These are lovely, son. Anyone else in the village would be jealous to have them.” 

That was more like it! 

Feeling at least a little more confident, Hiccup went to the back room and brought out the morning gift. It was a new axe, to replace the one that he broke.  

Sorry, the one that the ground broke. 

Honestly, it was his best work. Even better than the catapult he used to…make Toothless’ acquaintance.  

A mahogany handle, a grip made up of an iron sheathe wrapped in leather, and a wide, razor sharp blade that was etched with knotwork. It took Hiccup a great deal of effort to carry it out, as he had made it just slightly bigger than the one that was broken (which Astrid had conveniently left at the forge for repairs). There was also another reason it was heavier. 

“Aye, now that’s an axe!” Stoick cheered boisterously. He easily took the weapon from Hiccup’s grasp. “Well balanced, pleasant grip…sturdy blade. Pretty too! She’ll be very pleased with this—oh!” He drew it closer. “Oh lad, there’s a split down the handle…and the blade! Now that’s just going to break after a few Nadder necks!” 

Hiccup knew exactly what he was talking about. Right down the center of the weapon was a thin seam, but it was intentional. 

“Normally, yes, it would break.” He held his hands out, asking for the weapon back. “But…you know me. Can’t leave well enough alone…” 

Stoick frowned, but handed the weapon back over. 

Hiccup staggered slightly as it was dropped in his arms, but he recovered enough to transfer the weight to one arm as he twisted the grip a few times. He flipped the axe over, and it came apart, one half swiveling down and clicking once fully extended. He twisted the grip again and locked it all into place. Now, the weapon had transformed into a two headed pole axe. “Ta-da?”

Hiccup glanced up to gauge his father’s reaction, no doubt about to be greeted with exasperation. ‘Why mess with tradition?’ ‘Can’t you leave well enough alone?’ 

But instead, Stoick’s jaw had dropped as he stared wide-eyed. 

“Bad?....G-good?” 

Stoick silently took the pole axe from him, while Gobber let out a whistle. He headed outside, and Hiccup followed quickly, terrified his father was about to throw it over the cliffs. 

But instead, Stoick was testing it, spinning it around his arms and shoulders; he even figured out how to twist the grip in the middle of a swing. The axe folded as he tossed it from one hand to the other, and clicked back into being a war axe. 

Stoick twisted the grip to lock it again and looked it over, appreciatively. “That’ll do.” 

“So…good?” Hiccup squeaked. 

Stoick ruffled his hair. “Extremely good, son. I expect one for myself for Snoggletog.” 

Hiccup stood up straighter, a warmth growing in his chest. Was that pride?

“Oh boy,” Gobber lamented. “Once Stoick gets a new toy, everyone else is going to want one too. You got blueprints, boy?” 

“Yes! Yes of course Gobber!” 

“Now, I’ve kept you from your bride long enough. Why don’t you scoot?” Stoick patted his shoulder. 

“Right! Well I—” he trailed off, suddenly remembering what he had wanted to talk to his dad about the next time he saw him. Even in front of Gobber, he needed guidance. “Um…first I wanted to…can I ask–?” He fiddled his fingers. “How do I—?” 

Nope. He couldn’t do it. Too embarrassing. Too embarrassing to admit he lied before, and he still didn’t know at 16. 

“Nevermind, it’s not important. I’ll see you later, dad. Thanks!” 

—

Hiccup missed walking to the training area with Astrid. She didn’t wait for him, opting to head there by herself. 

When he arrived, she was perched on the rock, sharpening an axe. A different axe. A weirdly familiar axe. “Morning,” she greeted, not looking up. 

“Good morning!” He chirped. “Sorry, I was on my way to find you, and then dad wanted to see what I had made in the forge–”

“You don’t need to apologize. We never said where we were meeting.” 

“O-oh, right. I just thought it was the gentlemanly thing to do…”

“Where did you go last night?” 

“Huh?”

“After that Snotface kid tripped you, where did you go? You weren’t at your home or the forge. I looked for you.” 

His face warmed considerably. “Y-you looked for me? Why?” 

She frowned further. “You didn’t get any dinner. I saved you some.” 

“O-oh Astrid…” he scuffed his boot on the grass. “You didn’t–you don’t–I don’t expect you to—” 

“It was the nice thing to do, the right thing to do.” She jutted out her jaw. “I might not be able to cook, but I should still feed you.” 

He rubbed the back of his head. “Um…s-sorry.” He really didn’t know what else to say. 

“So where did you go?”

“I have a few dozen places around the island I go to get away,” he said vaguely. “I just…I knew I embarrassed you in front of your family and now they all know what a bozo I am and—” 

“Stop.” She stood, leaving the axe behind. “Sigurd and Ingrid don’t think you’re a bozo. You didn’t embarrass me. Someone tripped you and you were humiliated. We all wanted to make sure you were okay.” 

He was okay now. He hadn’t been, but then he play-wrestled with Toothless for a while and that made everything better. Talking about the incident made it all hurt again, and he didn’t want that. Didn’t want her to see that vulnerable side that was like a scab over a gangrenous wound. A little picking, and he’d fall apart. 

“Where’d you get that axe?” He asked, desperate to change the subject. 

She rolled her eyes at the obvious topic change, but indulged him. “Hmm? Oh that? I borrowed it from someone.”

“Who?” 

“Well, you showed me around the village, and I remembered where the ‘Lout family lived.” 

“Spitelout and Snotlout?” 

“Yep. The boy that tripped you.” 

Now all the pieces fit together and his eyes blew wide. “And he let you borrow their family’s ceremonial axe!?”

“It took a little persuading, but yes.” 

“H-how?” 

She punched her hand.

Hiccup’s jaw dropped. 

“They’re letting me borrow it until I get a new one made, or the old one repaired. I always take good care of my weapons, so no worries.” 

“I have some worries.” 

She ruffled his hair. “I know, Anxious Andy.” 

“Anx–!?” 

Then Astrid draped an arm around his shoulders and pulled him to her side, hugging him gently. “Hey. I get it. I respect that you want to be able to escape and have time to yourself. But your dad made this contract so I would protect you. Just…let me know where I can find you in an emergency and I’ll leave you alone.” 

That was sweet, and really wonderful to hear, but it wasn’t the issue. Because if he told her where Toothless was and she did seek him out for some reason…

“Thanks Astrid,” he breathed, before closing the distance and fully hugging her. 

He probably should have been embarrassed that his face got smooshed against her boobs in the process, but it's not like he did it on purpose. 

Wow she was soft!

Astrid squeezed him a bit and then pulled back. “So, did you figure out how to dip me?” 

“Ehhhh I think so? I hope so…” he trailed off as he went to the bag he brought with him. From inside, he pulled out two harnesses. “Here, on Friggsday, this will go under your clothes.” It was a strap that went around her bust, and then two straps that crossed over her chest and back. At the center of each cross was a ring. 

Astrid awkwardly put it on, and Hiccup watched calculatingly to make sure it fit like intended. Thankfully, it looked like it did. “Like this?”

“Perfect!” He unraveled his harness, which was a lot more complicated and had a section that went over his legs and arms. As he put it on, he explained. “So, I have a hook by my hand that will attach to the ring on your back. In theory, the harness will redistribute your weight across my back and legs instead of my weak little stick arms. I should be able to hold you up fine.” 

“Oh! That makes sense! You should always lift with your legs.” 

“That’s the idea at least.” 

“Well, I’m ready and willing to try.” 

“Great! Let me just—” he adjusted and fiddled with the straps, tightening the last two on his wrists. “Okay. So…” 

Astrid walked towards him, hands folded in front of her as she took a little marching step, like she was walking down the aisle. 

The sight made the sleeping butterflies in his tummy wake up. 

Then she was in front of him, holding his hands like they would at the altar. 

“You may now kiss the bride,” Astrid said, her voice deep with a mock accent. 

Hiccup started giggling then, unexpecting that from her. “W-what was that?!” 

“Your dad’s going to perform the ceremony, right?” 

“That was supposed to be my dad?!” 

“Oh, and how would you do his voice?” 

Hiccup cleared his throat, and performed his greatest role as Stoick the Vast, “Vikings, Dragons, Yaks, and Chickens—” 

Astrid snorted. 

“We are gathered here today to wed my wee talking fishbone of a son and the finest flaxen, mountainous maiden in the archipelago!” 

Encouraged by her wide, pretty smile, he continued. “Though wars may be started because I have removed the only being on this earth with bigger breasts than myself—” 

“Hiccup!” 

“And many a man would be jealous that my dragon-toothpick son gets to sleep beside Freya herself—”

She clicked her tongue. 

“It is a burden I must bear, for the good of my tribe. And if any you lot have a problem with it, you can tell it to the underside of my boot!” 

That made Astrid double over with laughter, clutching her stomach as she damn near screamed. Her laughter was so lovely. It made him smile too.

Once she caught her breath, she wiped a tear from her eye. “Whoo I was not expecting that.” 

“I’m full of surprises.” 

“Apparently!” She chuckled. “Okay okay, you do it then.” 

“What? Oh!” He cleared his throat. “You may kiss the bride!” 

Astrid waited a beat and smiled harder. “Yeah, and then kiss me.” 

“Right! Duh! Hahah!” He laughed a bit hysterically. 

“Breathe, Hiccup, it’s okay.” She pet his hair back. “It’s just me.” 

“Yeah well, you’re a big deal.” 

“If you’re uncomfortable kissing me in private, it’s going to be ten times worse in front of everyone.” 

“Don’t remind me!” 

“Okay, how about we work on the dipping part, and then we add the kiss in after.” 

He nodded. 

She draped her arms around his shoulders, standing almost chest to face chest with him. Hiccup raised his hands and reached up to catch the hook on the ring, which took a second. 

“Might have to practice this part too.” 

“Agreed.” 

Once hooked, Hiccup took hold of her, and pivoted on his foot to dip her. Astrid slid her leg back to stay in place. 

It worked! By the gods, it worked! Hiccup could feel the harness tugging across his back and legs, but his arms weren’t straining. 

“Look at you!” Astrid beamed. “My big, strong husband!” 

He pouted. “Are you patronizing me?” 

She giggled, “sorry, that sounded like I was making fun of you…truth is, it's very fun to have a husband who figured out how to dip me. Most boys our age couldn’t.” 

“Could Thuggory?” Well that was a dumb thing to say! Sure! Bring up her old flame! Make her compare you to the guy she actually liked! 

“Mmm, maybe,” she answered honestly. “He was kind of built like Snotmouth—“ 

“Snotlout.” 

“—but taller. Not as tall as me though. I think if I made it a challenge he’d try, but again, I don’t know if he could.” She rolled her eyes. “He wouldn’t have done it well, he’s not particularly romantic.” 

It occurred to Hiccup that he was still holding her, still had her reclined in his arms. While the harness helped a lot, he was starting to feel it. “Let’s try again?” 

“Until it’s smooth.” 

He righted her and unhooked her, that action a little clumsy as well. Then he started again.

Over and over, he hooked, dipped, straightened, and unhooked, looking for the sweet spots to make all the actions seamless. 

Eventually, he needed a break. He stretched his arms. “I think we’re close! Won’t everyone be surprised?” 

“Only if you nail the kiss too.” 

“I’ll do a great job with the kiss! I’ll kiss the Valhalla outta you!” He proclaimed with a blush. 

“Yeah? You’re not just going to clench up like a fish?” She mimicked the face he made the day before when he came to the bunker. 

“No! That was a one time fluke!” 

“Good, because I’m expecting something like this.” She swung her leg around, hooking his knee and pulling him off balance. Then she dipped him, making sure to place her hands in the same places he had. 

Hiccup was embarrassed for a moment, surprised and unprepared, but she gave him this smug smile and he decided he didn’t mind. Not at all, actually. 

Astrid leaned in and kissed him, making sure to initiate before he could pucker up tight. She caught his bottom lip between hers and nipped at him. 

He whimpered, overwhelmed by the sensations he felt. This was the longest kiss they’d had, and he wondered if it would ever end. 

Not that he wanted it to!

She pulled away briefly to glare at him. “You aren’t kissing me back.” 

“S-sorry…starstruck.” 

She laughed. Not at him, probably, but a warm, delighted giggle. “Because of me?” 

“Yuh,” he nodded. 

She stood him up, carefully straightening his clothes. “Now it’s your turn. Dip me again, and kiss me. Kiss me like…like you thought I was dead but we’ve reunited somehow.” 

He sputtered. “That’s a bit intense, don’t you think?”

“Intense! That’s the word I was looking for. Don’t be shy!” 

“Ha…don’t be shy. Right…” He adjusted his stance, said the line, and methodically hooked her into the harness and dipped her. He clenched his eyes shut, leaned in…

And awkwardly smashed their mouths together. He recovered it a bit at the end, but when he pulled back and stood her up, he couldn’t maintain eye contact. 

“I think there’s something wrong with me.” He mumbled. 

“There’s nothing wrong with you, Hiccup.” She took his hand. “You just have no experience, and I’m still pretty much a stranger to you.” 

“Hopefully not for long,” he looked up to her. “I like you. I don’t think I’ll mind getting to know you.” 

“The feeling is very mutual.” 

—

Hiccup returned to the village with Astrid, hand in hand. He was exhausted, having stayed up all night working on the items for the wedding. Hopefully, his father wasn’t home and he could just take a nice long nap. 

He bid Astrid adieu and made his way up the hill towards his house. 

Before he could enter, the back of his vest was snagged and yanked, throwing him off balance. 

He fell flat on his back in the grass, and looked up in horror at a very pissed off Snotlout, who was sporting a beautiful black eye. 

He stepped on his chest and leaned down to glare at him. “Get that bitch of yours under control.” 

Then he got off of Hiccup’s chest and strolled off, thankfully not causing any more pain. 

Hiccup laid there for a moment, rightfully winded. But almost giddy? Had Astrid given him that black eye? Because of what happened yesterday? 

She was supposed to protect him, yes, but he didn’t know it extended to family, or this soon! 

What a great perk! 

Eventually, Hiccup picked himself up and dusted himself off. His bed was calling, after all. But the thought tickled in the back of his head. Snotlout’s black eye, Astrid’s borrowed axe…

Mostly out of curiosity, and apparently no self-preservation, Hiccup went down to the Jorgenson family home. If there was a way to keep this from coming back to bite him in the butt, he might as well try. But of course, there was the chance he made it all worse. He hemmed and hawed all the way there, and only came to a resolute decision once he stood in front of the door. 

He knocked, and held his breath. 

Spitelout answered the door, looking all crusty and bastardly. He scowled. 

“What you want, boy-o?” 

Hiccup wrung his hands, ticking Spitelout off more, apparently. 

“J-just wanted to pop over and say uh…thank you for loaning my betrothed that axe. She’s very eager to keep up with her training.” 

Then he tensed, waiting to see if he had opened a barrel of worms. 

To his utter shock and awe, Spitelout wrapped an arm around his shoulders and squeezed. “Oh don’t mention it, lad! Quite the fierce warrior she is! And a negotiator! We’re lucky to have her! The bonnie lass came over this morning and knocked and told me what me boy did to you. Then she explained her axe broke and she’d forget all of it if I loaned her an axe and she was allowed a swing at me boy!” 

“And you just agreed?” 

“Naturally! Hiccup lad, she threw me across the room! You think I’m going to argue with that? No! So I gave her the bridal axe, fitting as it is!” 

Hiccup was absolutely dumbfounded. The natural laws of Vikinghood made sense only sometimes. Mainly, if you pick a fight with someone and it’s a draw or you lose, you get in trouble. But if you win, you get respect. 

Such as it was, Hiccup picked no fights. 

“Well uh, glad that worked out then. Thanks again!” 

Spitelout squeezed him once more and then released him. “No trouble at all! Hey, Astrid might finally make you worth something!” He cackled. “Tell your old man there better be some of that spiced wine at the ceremony, or I’m not coming.” 

“Yeah, I’ll uh…I’ll pass that along. 

Hiccup left then, without a farewell. He stewed on Spitelout’s words, ruminating on them. 

Astrid might finally make you worth something.

What did he mean by that? That Astrid might have the ability to train with him and make him a proper Viking? Or that her presence on the island, because of him, would give him value? 

Training with Astrid could be lucrative. She had much more patience than the rest of the tribe. 

But what if he never gained any more height? Or muscles? Astrid could train him all she wanted, but as long as he stayed a Hiccup, it wouldn’t do much. 

He finished the trek to his house, and was surprised to see his dad home. He was at the table, looking over some papers. 

He glanced up when the door opened. “Oh, morning son.” 

“I didn’t think you’d be home still…” 

“Didn’t think so either, but a courier came with some wedding RSVPs. I have to figure out if we have enough room in the bunkers.” 

“Anyone interesting coming?” Hiccup shuffled forward. He wasn’t sure which was better, strangers to him, or people his dad wanted to impress. 

“Hamish and his three sons from Blood Briar, a representative of the Gauls who’s apparently married into the Hofferson clan.” 

“Astrid’s older sister.” 

“Ah. That makes sense then. We’re not allied with the Gaul’s anymore, not after…well, relationships sour when they can’t be reciprocated.” 

“…because of the dragons?” Hiccup squeaked. 

“Aye. We’re always in need of aid, and rarely can give any back. But, if a Gaul is coming—more over, in the family…” 

Hiccup sighed. Stoick was looking at the positives of the marriage again, not that he could blame him. But the political advantages seemed to keep rolling in! 

Again, Hiccup was divided. On one hand, knowing that the village would get help from the outside because of him was great. But on the other hand…he wished it was because of his actions. He wished he could have done something to help instead of just being born as the son of a chief. 

“Oh!” Stoick called as Hiccup started to slink up the stairs. “Oswald’s coming.” 

Hiccup paused, a cold chill going down his back. “Oswald the Agreeable? Of the Berserkers?” 

“That’s the one!” 

“Just Oswald?” 

“Let’s see…” he dug through the papers. “‘Dear Stoick the Vast, it is with great joy to hear about the upcoming union of your son Hiccup and Astrid Hofferson of the Shivering Shores. I and my son, Dagur, will be there with bells on our toes. Dagur is especially excited and expresses a great pride for ‘his little buddy’. We will see you soon.’ So Oswald and Dagur, it seems.” 

“Oh gods. Dad, Dagur is not my friend and if anything goes wrong with the ceremony, I want you to know I’m doing everything in my power to make sure it’s perfect but Snotlout could try to ruin it, and I have a feeling Dagur definitely will try—!” 

As he was panicking, Stoick stood and came over to him, resting two heavy hands on his shoulders. The contact made Hiccup clam up tight. 

“We all have people in our lives that want to see us fail. I know Snotlout’s behavior, and I can guess Dagur’s. Don’t do anything drastic. Don’t try to make any big statements. Just follow the script, say I Do and kiss your bride. Everything else that happens is inconsequential.” 

“Promise?” 

Stoick frowned. “Well…it won’t be your fault, so don’t worry.” 

“I think you underestimate my ability to worry about everything.” 

Stoick rubbed his head. “Your mother was a worrywort too. It might be uncomfortable, but her thoughtfulness kept me from forgetting a great deal of things. It can be a good quality if you know how to harness it.” 

Hiccup smiled slightly, straightening his hair. That was the first time in a long time that his father had a conversation about a good quality instead of lecturing him about the things out of his control. 

“Thanks dad.” He yawned. “Sorry, I stayed up late working on Astrid’s gifts. I was hoping to get a nap in.” 

“That’s fine, lad. You did a fine job with those gifts. Tomorrow night is the rehearsal, and during the day, you’ll be expected to greet our guests. Until then…just stay out of trouble?” 

“Yes sir.” 

“Good talk.” 

Hiccup hmphed, escaping up the stairs. 

He made a startling discovery as he entered his room. The little twin-sized bed he’d slept in his entire life was gone. Instead, a large king size bed was in its place. It took up most of the space in the room. 

“Hey uh, dad? Why—where—bed?” 

“I knew I was forgetting something!” He called. The stairs creaked as Stoick came to stand behind him. “It looks like there was a delay in building your new house. So you and Astrid will stay here for the first week of your marriage.” 

“Oh! I suppose that works…what about you? Are you going to be downstairs still?” 

He laughed. “You couldn’t pay me to sleep in the same house as newlyweds! No lad, Gobber and I will be camping in the woods, like old times.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“Sure I’m sure! I was just going to stay at Gobber’s house, then we got talking about it and decided to make it into a camping trip. I’ll be on vacation, you’ll be on your honeymoon, Spitelout will keep the village going. As long as there’s no dragon raids,” he knocked on the wall. “We’ll be fine.” 

“If you say so…” Hiccup swallowed thickly as he stared at the big bed in front of him. The big bed he’d share with Astrid. 

The big bed he was supposed to—

“Hey dad?” Hiccup squeaked. But it was too late. During his daydreaming, Stoick had already slipped away and back to work outside. 

Hiccup sighed. Maybe he should just focus on the wedding, and then at the consummation he could just…faint. 

Yeah. That would work.

[sysmedsaresexist]

Today we're once again reminded of the levels of cruelty people are capable of.

I missed most of the drama with the bait accounts, but I want to offer some positivity and solace to those affected.

Many of you actually cared about the fake child behind the screen. You wanted to help, you sent kindness and support, and I watched many of you worry in private on discord-- everyone was very realistic about the claims. Obviously they were probably wrong, but goddamn, they needed help.

Don't be embarrassed or ashamed that you fell for it.

You are a good person, who sees good in the world.

You aren't gullible or easily manipulated.

You are still capable of trust, and you should be so proud of yourself for manging to hold on to that trait after everything you've been through.

Don't let this do further damage to you. Don't be angry with yourself, don't lose that faith in the good of humanity.

Don't let sick people trick you into thinking the world is full of only horrible people. Don't let yourself become more skeptical, because that's what they want.

Continue to believe survivors

In Canada, we have a saying.

"Better that someone abuse the system, than for someone who needs it to not have access."

Stay with me, I'm going somewhere with this.

When we talk about Universal Healthcare with Americans, this topic comes up a lot. "But people will abuse the system."

Yes, but more people actually need and use the system appropriately. You can't allow bad people to harm everyone. Everyone loses in that case.

As proof:

We pay less in taxes than Americans, and still get free Healthcare. I take home more money than you, and still get more out of it. The myth that our waitlists are months long is fake and orchestrated by American insurance companies.

Consider, for a second, how your background plays into your beliefs and skepticism regarding these topics. Maybe I was just raised to be more trusting, I don't know.

But I certainly don't think the mindset is harmful.

You can read interviews on the isstd website with clinicians that were working during the satanic panic. One interview stood out to me in particular.

Imagine for a second that you have a patient sitting in front of you. They tell you that they have dreams about being abused by a satanic cult. They give you details of these dreams and you talk through them together. For now, you're focused on how these dreams affect them. Are they losing sleep? Is their daily life affected? Anxiety? They begin to tell you about their paranoia, and how people they recognize are in the dreams.

You probe a bit deeper.

They wonder aloud if maybe it happened in real life.

How do you respond? Really think about how your response will come across.

This was the satanic panic.

The ISSTD didn't find their patients themselves. Doctors from across the world referred their patients to the ISSTD's treatment program in Chicago. The doctors at the ISSTD trusted the referring doctors, who had already done the majority of work and background gathering (meaning the ISSTD met these clients long after they had made their claims, rather than "implanting" those memories themselves). Police were involved trying to sort through all the information to find real culprits. Everyone was terrified. No one knew what was happening or who to trust or believe. It looked real.

In the back of every doctor's mind was the question, "What if they're telling the truth?"

Many doctors didn't believe their clients, but telling them that to their face would be bad practice.

This large scale hysteria was something no one was prepared for. They were flying by the seat of their pants, hoping for the best and that an answer would fall from the sky.

Yes, many of the claims were fake. Whether they were consciously made up, or stand-in pseudomemories for real abuse (a well-documented thing), and the rare cases mixed in that were genuine-- doctors tried to take their clients' claims at face value.

Imagine you tell your doctor about your abuse and they say, "that sounds a bit extreme, I don't think that's possible."

Programmed DID existed before the panic, it exists to this day. Just because you can't find the research doesn't mean it isn't there.

By claiming something specific isn't real, you also discredit the abuse leading up to it.

Let me put it another way, who cares if programmed DID is possible? Organized and ritual abuse is real. Trafficking, CSA films, war crimes, conversion groups, churches. DID is real.

Grey Faction and TST want you to stay in the mindset that it's more important to weed out fakers and malingerers than to trust people in the hopes you help just one person in a real way. They want you to be skeptical of everyone and everything in order to maintain their public image, because if you look too hard, you'll see the terrible things they have done.

GF has a bad habit of being like, "The TST doesn't take part in LARGE SCALE MURDER AND CANNIBALISM, that's not even real, it was debunked during the panic," as if to say anything less severe isn't worthy of note and also must not be real. It's surprisingly effective, and by connecting more absurd ideas with RAMCOA and the ISSTD, they manage to discredit huge swathes of the field.

Some people like to think they took the red pill, and that they've ascended to a higher level of intelligence with a new, better ability to look at things impartially, when they're really just assholes falling for bullshit. They hurt real survivors and still think they're in the right.

It's vile behavior done for cheap kicks and internet brownie points. Even 4chan types wouldn't go that far or be that pathetic.

Who else could look someone in the face and say, "I don't believe you."

They want you to think they're better than you, but which is better?

Outward and vocal skepticism and dismissal, or quiet, thoughtful reflection with the longterm goal of helping this person find their truth?

Some of you would make much better doctors than others.

The bad people aren't the ones "faking" or lying. Those people at mentally ill and still deserving of help.

The bad people are the ones who want to dismiss every claim because one person once lied about it.

Don't lose your faith. Don't let this set you back. We need more people like you.

I'm proud of you for caring about people.

What happened will further stigmatize survivors, it did real damage to people. You're not alone.

Don't let them win, you did the right things.

Stay safe, everyone.

We survived this kind of discourse once on a much larger scale. We'll do it again.

[steventhusiast]

STWG daily prompt 27/11/23

prompt: first day

pairing/character(s): steddie

-

Eddie leans over the console to steady Steve's bouncing leg, and then watches the motion slow over a few seconds. When it eventually fully stops, he starts rubbing his thumb back and forth over the cargo pants gently, and pointedly looks up to meet Steve's eye.

"Hey, I gave you your ten minute freak out. Time's up, Stevie." He almost feels bad for saying it at the anxiety still lingering in Steve's eyes, but they'd talked about this. Eddie promised not to let Steve think himself into a panic.

"Right." Steve says, and takes a deep breath, "I got this."

"Yeah you do." Eddie agrees, smiling encouragingly as Steve looks out the passenger seat window toward the fire station. His new place of work. It seems that just looking at the building seeps all of the confidence back out of him, and his eyes dart back over to Eddie.

"I'm so fucking nervous about this, Eds. This is the first job I actually care about- what if I fuck it up?"

Eddie shakes his head immediately.

"You won't fuck it up. You did the training," Eddie starts counting dramatically with the fingers of his free hand, refusing to stop the reassuring rubbing over Steve's leg, "you passed the training, you aced the interviews, you said you think the station manager likes you, you're here thirty minutes early, and you're bringing donuts in with you. It's gonna be fine."

"Okay. I should probably go in, don't wanna.. don't wanna sit here long enough that someone notices that the van hasn't left yet." Steve actually unbuckles his seatbelt this time, and (after doing a quick scan of the parking lot for people) he leans over to press a chaste kiss to Eddie's lips.

"Go get 'em, baby. And see if they have any of those hot firefighter suspenders, 'kay? For me?" Eddie can't help but tease Steve as he pushes open the passenger door. In response Steve rolls his eyes, as expected, and poorly suppresses a smile, also as expected.

"You're an idiot." He says once he's (finally) gotten out of the van.

Eddie waits for him to reach back in to grab the box of donuts before speaking again.

"I'm your idiot." He claims, and Steve stops trying to suppress his gorgeous smile.

"I love you too. See you later, Eds."

"See you at ten, hot stuff."

And if Eddie waits around in the parking lot for another ten minutes, just in case things go horribly wrong and Steve ends up running back out of the station, well. No one has to know.

[bambinotattoo]

Erica’s Diaper Plan

Chapter 18

((Yesterday at school after Erica was taken home))

((“Omg, Sara B, so…what the hell just happened?” Jewel said inquisitively

“Um, so…yea…I don’t really know, Erica has been really nervous about high school and has had some anxiety lately… that was probably it”

“ anxiety? OK, didn’t have anything to do with the fact that it looked like she wet her pants? And potentially was wearing a diaper? I mean, come on…you’re her best friend, plus we already know she wears diapers at night for bed wedding… so is this like a daily thing now?”

Sara Beth didn’t know what to say, on one hand she could keep her friend secret or on the other tell the girls what they really saw get it out of the way, and try to help Erica make the best of it…

NEither of those options sounded very good to Sara Beth…

“ well I don’t know anything about her wearing daytime diapers, I mean, high school and diapers really?!? lol”

Sara Beth tried to get the attention on humor and off the fact that her best friend just let her diaper leaked and cried like a baby getting out of her car seat in front of their friends…

“HMmm, wasn’t she in a car seat? And I’m pretty sure I saw a bulge in her pants. Just saying”

“ well if that was the case, are you guys gonna be the type of friends that make fun of her and make her feel bad for it? Or spread the rumor around to make it even worse? I mean come on we’re supposed to be her friends… right?”

The two girls just nodded with embarrassment, Sara Beth put them in their place and they realize they were being a little bit harsh. In the meantime, Sara Beth was sweating bullets trying to keep her friends secret, at the same time knowing her friend wants to be humiliated… kind of a catch 22

“ I wouldn’t worry about it guys, I think it was just a stomach bug. She’s going to the doctor this week anyway so… I think we should just ignore what we saw today, and embrace her tomorrow and help her feel better!”

The girls were all in agreement, and even made a “get well soon” card that Sara Beth was to take home and gift to her. After a while, the girls went to their classes and the day went like normal.

(Monday late afternoon)

Later in the day on Monday when Sara Beth got home, she immediately called Erica to make sure she was OK.

“ hey dude, are you feeling any better?”

“ I mean, yeah, but I feel pretty stupid”

“lol, yeah, I get that… I guess she got all the humiliation you could handle today.!!”

“ Yeah I guess laid in the bed I made”

“ so the girls were asking me about what happened”

“ I bet, what did you tell them?”

“ that we’re supposed to support our friend, and that you’ve been a little sick lately… they asked about the car seat, the wet pants, the pacifier, and the diaper bulge…”

“Oh man… now I feel worse”

“ don’t, everybody’s on board with trying to understand and make you feel better… I had a really stern talking with them… it’s all good!”

“ really?!?? How did you pull that off?”

“ cause I’m good and I love you! I’m gonna get something to eat and then I’m coming over OK?”

“Ok!!!”

That conversation made Erica feel 10 times better, she was still apprehensive about what happened today… but knew she had no choice but to try again tomorrow. At least she knows no one’s gonna be making fun of her for being diapered yet, and she knows she’s gonna need to get ready for that… in order to try to find the courage she went to her ABDL message boards and read stories, comments, etc., about public humiliation, and all of that.

While reading that isn’t going to necessarily make her feel better in those moments, she’s hoping she can look back on them and times where she’s feeling overwhelmed. She also decided to message Jasmine again, and see what she thinks about desensitizing her to some public humiliation

It was around 4:30, and Erica in her room on her computer heard the kitchen door open and close, and Sara Beth’s cheerful voice greeted by her mother

“ hey Karen, how’s the rest of your day been?”

“ it’s been OK Sara Beth… was your first day of school good? lol”

“ yeah it was OK, it’s school… I have all the things we did today and some worksheets Miss Erica, wanted to get them to her early”

“ that’s so nice of you Sara Beth. I’m so thankful she has someone in her life like you. Speaking of which, how the conversation with the girls go after what happened this morning?” I’ve been thinking the worst, but hoping for the best.”

“ well you’ll be happy to know and I’ve already told Erica of this, that I chipped up and made sure they understood that this wasn’t something to make fun of, but something to understand and to be supportive about, so I’m hoping at least least on their end that things are back to normal.”

“ that’s so great Sara Beth, you’re such a good friend! Hey, so I was gonna go run and get some things for dinner, would you mind watching Erica for a little bit?”

“ of course not, when’s the last time she was changed?”

“ it’s been a few hours, and knowing her, she’s probably soaked lol”

“ got it, I’ll get her a little booty cleaned up in a fresh diaper!!”

Karen, thanks Sara Beth for helping out with Erica… in reality, Karen was going to meet Jasmine for a drink and to try to destress some of what happened today.

As Karen grabbed her purse, gave Sara Beth a hug and walked out the garage… Sarah began to walk towards Erica’s nursery and greet her friend.

“ hey best babysitter in the world!”

“ hey lol, speaking of which stand up for me… your mom said that she hadn’t changed it in a few hours so everyone’s assuming you’re a wet girl”

“ yes ma’am”

Erica stood up, put her pacifier in her mouth and stood in front of Sara Beth so she could have her diaper checked…

“ that’s what I thought, you are soaked young lady… what do you say we get that nasty diaper off you and then do a nice clean one what do you think sweet girl?”

“Lmfao, I can’t handle all the baby talks from you… it’s weird…lol”

“ oh my little diaper girl, feeling shy? That’s OK, sweet thing, let me help you hop on the changing table and let’s get you all cleaned up!”

Erica blushed, turned red and took her friend’s hand to have her help her on her changing table. Now laying down Sara Beth directed her to raise her legs so that she could get her pants off of her. Pants off, now Sara Beth unsnapped Erica’s onesie, exposing her very wet diaper!

“ PU, I smell PP…tickle tickle”

Erica couldn’t help but giggle and wet, her diaper a little more with the tickling, Sara Beth noticed put her hand on Erica‘s already wet diaper crotch and felt the warmth grow into its max…

“ well well well, somebody’s diapers getting warm… are you like doing that on purpose or are you doing that without control?”

A very shy and red faced Erica looked at her friend and said “um, I’m not really sure when I’m gonna pee right now, it just comes out. Actually it just comes out all the time it like trickles…”

“ oh, well I guess my little diaper baby really needs diapers, huh?”

“ yes”

Sara Beth got finished joking and making her friend feel better, and untaped the her friend is wearing, and folded down the front to expose a princess parts, grab the wipes and began cleaning her friend up! While it was still weird for Sara Beth to be cleaning Erica’s most private parts, Erica did make it a little easier by just staring at the ceiling and letting it happen…

“ OK I’ll clean little girl… let’s put a pink princess diaper on you. What do you think?”

Erica in a day, staring at the glow in the dark stars on her ceiling, viciously, sucking her pacifier, nodded to her friend and pink princess it was! Sara Beth removed the soggy diaper from under Erica’s butt, and gently slid the new one underneath her. A heavy application of diaper ointment, baby powder new diaper was folded up, and all the tape snuggly put in place!

“ there we go, sweet girl nice clean diaper, I bet that feels better, huh?”

Sara Beth had never been this mothering to Erica, Erica figured it was because of how the day started… and Sara Beth was figuring this is how she’s supposed to talk to her friend… either way, it made Erica a very, very little

“ so I brought home some stuff from school, first day nothing really happened… so tomorrow you’ll be caught up either way. You are coming tomorrow, right?”

“ yes, mom made sure to tell me that I was coming… not sure I want, but again… this diaper bed, and now I must lay in it”

“ hopefully you don’t leak!!”

The two girls exchanged a laugh, which was the first real laugh. Erica had had since this morning. Sara Beth helped her off the changing table, and now in just a diaper, Erica gave her friend a big hug.

“TAnk yew, Sawwa, my diappeee feels super doooer”

“ OMG that baby talk is absolutely adorable, goodness me!”

Sara Beth playfully smacked Erica on the diaper booty, and the two of them sat down and started looking at what she had brought from school. While sitting at Erica’s desk, Sara Beth noticed what Erica was reading. The topics of diaper humiliation, public, humiliation, etc were up for anyone to see. This got Sara Beth curious and she decided to openly ask some questions.

“ do you mind if I read some of those? Or like you can send me the ones that you like the best or that make the most sense.?!? That way I’m not reading it in front of you”

“ yeah OK I can send you a few things, promise not to make fun of me?”

“ really, I’m not promising that… you should know better. I just wanna know what I can do to help!”

Sara Beth was very genuinely offering to throw herself further into Erica’s new diaper reality… at first, she didn’t think she was going to, but all of a sudden she almost feels obligated. And not obligated in a bad way, obligated I wanna make sure her friend is OK way

The two spent the rest of the afternoon talking about school, what happened this morning, and how tomorrow is a new day…

After an hour or so, Sara Beth began to smell, the noticeable smell of a dirty diaper…

“ Erica, did you poop your pants?”

“ yeah, I’m sorry”

“ stop that, climb on the changing table… let’s get that messy diaper off of you…”

Quite apprehensively, Erica stared at her friend, and asked “ are you sure?, I’m sure my mom will be home soon…”

“ you’re silly, get on the changing table!”

This is something Erica had not anticipated, having her poopy diaper changed by her best friend… all Erica could do was do what she was told climb the changing table and prepare for a very humiliating diaper change…

[knickynoo]

what do you think alternate 1985 Marty was like?

Ok, so, I LOVE thinking about 1985A Marty!! We see him for a bit in the "Biff to the Future" comics, but I've mentioned before that I feel like they sort of dropped the ball there. There was so much they could have done with Alt '85 Marty, and they honestly didn't do much. He was just...Marty. And while I like the idea that a lot of who Marty is remains the same no matter the timeline, I have a hard time believing such an awful upbringing wouldn't impact him in some way. Some thoughts!

• I do think there would be that element of "Marty is Marty," even with growing up in '85A. At his core, Marty is kind. He's protective of his loved ones, strives to do the right thing, and puts others first. I don't think that would change.

• However, I see '85A Marty maybe having to hide those characteristics under a bit of a hardened shell. This is out of necessity and a result of being exposed to a lot of horrible things from a young age. He was so little when George died, so likely all he remembers is a world where Biff is his step-father, his mother is miserable, and violence is a daily occurrence. That good heart is still there, but Marty figures out pretty quickly that he's got to keep it under wraps a bit if he's going to survive.

• It's interesting because while our Movie!Marty is a fairly anxious little guy, I don't see '85A Marty as really having any significantly higher anxiety levels. I mean, you would think he'd be a barely functioning anxious mess, but I actually think all the pressure and stress and fear would force him into a state of "I can't waste TIME worrying." He becomes a very take-charge person. Focused on whatever situation is currently taking priority while the anxiety takes a back seat.

• As Alt Biff says in part II, Marty is absolutely a "little hothead." He tries to be careful, and he's able to tread lightly when needed, but it's just not possible in certain situations. Mainly, these are situations involving his mother's safety and well-being. If she's being threatened or hurt, he just does what's needed to help, even if it means he's going to pay for it after.

• Though Lorraine does her very best to protect and care for Marty, there are times she simply can't. And when it gets to be too much and she's lost in the sadness and alcohol, Marty steps in to be there for her. In a way, he learns how to act as a parent of sorts from a young age, guiding and taking care of his mom when she needs it. With Dave and Linda's own issues (and the fact that they're rarely around), he's often all Lorraine has.

• The moment Marty was shipped off to his first boarding school, he started acting out and doing whatever he could to get himself kicked out. He knew it was Biff's way of getting rid of him—taking away Lorraine's main source of protection—and wasted no time in sabotaging the plan. In some ways, it was hard for Marty because he really had to do some bad stuff (and it tugged solidly at his conscience) but he had no choice. He had to get back to his mother. So, every time Biff sent him somewhere new, Marty immediately got to work making himself a Nightmare Student. He gets very good at causing trouble. I think he also forms alliances with other students who become aware of his situation and help him to get kicked out as well.

• So. I have this hc that just popped into my brain where Biff actually tries to like...mold Marty into taking after him when Marty is little? Because Marty is so young and impressionable when George dies and Biff enters the picture, I can see Biff being like, "Maybe I can get the kid on my side." And it's not even that he likes or cares about Marty, he just sees someone he can turn into an heir of his twisted empire. Even have it be a slap in the face to George's memory to have his youngest son turn into a mini Biff Tannen. But Marty is stubborn, loyal, and sees right through Biff, so he resists every act Biff tries to put on to impress him. In turn, this makes Biff hate Marty even more in the long run.

• In the comics, there's a secret resistance group that keeps trying to find ways to take Biff down. George and Doc were both part of it, and I like to imagine that Marty gets involved in some way as well. He's a source of valuable information since he lives with Biff, and I think Marty also does a whole lot of sneaking around to keep up to date on what Biff is up to. He doesn't tell Lorraine about his involvement, though, because he doesn't want to put her in danger if Biff grows suspicious, but Lorraine definitely knows. She just turns the other way and silently prays nothing bad will happen.

• Marty has a tough time in terms of how the citizens of Hill Valley see him. He's disliked by a lot of people automatically because he's Biff's stepson, and they're wary of him. They don't know if he can be trusted. Others simply assume he's a spoiled brat living a cushy life with a rich family and resent him for having it so good while the rest of the town crumbles. So, he has very few friends.

I'm sure I could go on, but I'll stop there. I'd like to write a fic someday that focuses on 1985A Marty because he really does fascinate me. Thanks for the ask!

[bluestar22x]

Clean

Summary: You give Javi a blowjob while in the shower

Pairing: Javi Gutierrez x Germophobic F!Reader

Rating: 18+

Warnings: Oral sex (m and f receiving), fowl language, excessive use of Spanish terms of endearment

Word Count: 1,830(ish)

Author's Note: This is one of the most spontaneous fics I’ve ever written. Just popped right into my head this morning when I should have been thinking about other things and didn't leave. I thought my idea fit Javi G so here's another Javi fic involving water smut. Oh, and this is my first time writing oral sex so keep that in mind.

xxx

Germophobe. That's what your friends and family had labeled you.

As far as you were concerned it was just common sense. The house wasn't truly clean if you didn't disinfect every surface during housework every week. You should use more than one old cloth when cleaning the toilet (the top of the seat having its own assigned cloth because that's where you sit). You should use hand sanitizer throughout your work day and wipe down your phone when you get home. You should always wash your hands after coming indoors from the outside. You should stay six feet away from strangers as much as possible.

You tried not to think too hard about how most people didn't do all those things. Didn't consider germ protection on a daily basis outside of washing their hands after going to the bathroom (and you knew many didn't even do that and it horrified you if you thought too much about it).

You weren't convinced you were a germophobe. You didn't have the high anxiety most germophobic people had over touching dirty items, but then again, if any part of your clothing touched a toilet you changed out of it as soon as you could, and you could only use a public restroom if there was a promise of a shower later in the day.

You weren't like this before Covid. Or at least not nearly as bad. But after the world quarantined you never quite left that space. It was still out there, after all, even if they were saying it wasn't that serious anymore.

You were bad off enough your family was convinced you'd never keep a man, wondering if you could even handle kissing anymore.

It turned out kissing and even regular ol' sex wasn't a problem with you, you were fine with that. The issue was all your house rules put in place to keep your space a safe zone, like no sitting on the couch if you've sat on any public seat beforehand, eventually wore them down.

After going through five different guys in a span of three years you'd begun to go to therapy sessions in secret, but your therapist said it would be slow going to get you comfortable with typical exposure to microbes even though it was considered completely safe (when was the last time a person got sick from just sitting on the average couch?).

Funny enough, the therapist's office is where you had met Javi seven months ago, striking conversation in the waiting room several times before he finally asked you out. He was there because he'd been manipulated by his toxic family for so long that he was having trouble figuring out his sense of self, and when you'd explained why you were there he was nothing but understanding.

Javi was always considerate of your needs. If you were trying to get past an urge you had to clean something that didn't need cleaning he'd get your mind off it. If you weren't ready to do that, he'd indulge you and even help you clean it. He was never pushy about you making progress. He was just supportive.

He was the same in bed, always letting you take the lead and decide what you wanted when you were trying something new.

It was kind of unspoken that oral was off the table, the mere idea of having your mouth on anyone like that making you highly uncomfortable. And as far as you were concerned, if you weren't giving back, you didn't feel right receiving it. You were sure Javi wouldn't mind if things were one sided, you knew participation during sex wasn't supposed to be some kind of competition, but you were all about taking only as much as you gave. You didn't feel right otherwise. You weren't really interested in any kind of oral sex anyway.

Until you were. Over time, as your relationship grew stronger, after "I love yous" were shared and your love making felt less novel, you started to get curious about it. What would it be like?

So many of your friends had mentioned it before, and it was in so many of the books you read, it was an unavoidable question.

Would it be so bad after a shower? You thought you could handle that. As long as you both showered there would be nothing to worry about, right? It's not like you were unfamiliar to each other. You knew Javi was a clean person and you knew he'd never tested positive for any STDs. There was literally no reason for it to trigger your anxiety.

So one lazy Sunday morning you asked Javi to join you in the master bathroom's shower and started washing with him, not telling him your plans just in case you chickened out.

You both started with your hair, taking turns under the shower head to rinse first the shampoo out, then the conditioner.

After that you both took your fresh washcloths off the bar in the roomy shower and squeezed a palm sized amount of the same unscented body wash onto them. But before he could start rubbing himself down with it you halted Javi, grabbing him loosely by the wrist.

"Let's wash each other," you suggested.

He beamed at you. "Oh? Where would you like me to start, cariño? Here?" He lightly swiped the cloth over your left shoulder. "Or here?" He slid the cloth across your chest, above your breasts, and you grinned before guiding his hand lower, to the top of your right breast.

"Here."

Javi was very thorough, taking his time to soap up your breasts, sweeping under them, and paying special attention to both of your buds until your breaths quickened and your eyes fluttered shut. When your first gasp escaped your lips you felt the cloth in his hand move over your shoulders and back before being dragged down your belly, and between your legs.

"Javi," you choked out as he softly stroked between your folds with the cloth. The friction of the cotton felt good. Very good.

"Beautiful," he whispered, soft eyes on your face.

You opened yours to stare into his lust filled chocolate ones and forced yourself to start wiping him down, starting at his expansive shoulders, pausing at times to kiss him, sliding you tongue against his, exploring his mouth, and to breathe while he continued to seek new places on your body with the cloth in the name of getting clean and so much more.

You reached his dick and balls and took your time to clean every crevice and fold to be found, taking him in your empty hand to gain better access.

The almost innocuous way you were paying attention to him still made his length grow and caused him to groan lowly, almost painfully.

"Sound so good Javi," you praised him. "Wanna make you feel even better, guapo."

You knelt in front of him, discarding the cloth to grasp him firmly in your bare hands as the shower water rinsed away the soap.

He gaped at seeing your mouth so tantalizingly close to his cock, the wanting expression on your face, and sucked in a deep breath. "Are you sure, mi luz?"

"You're clean," you replied. "And I'm curious. If you're okay with it?"

"More than, cariño." Whatever you wanted to give him he would take, no matter how little or how much, it was always intoxicating. But if you wanted to try something different, he wouldn't dare say no. He could never say no to you.

You tentatively swept your tongue over his tip, knowing from all the times you'd given him a hand job that it was really sensitive, and you were rewarded with a hiss and the sight of his jaw clenching.

He leaned forward on one hand against the tiled wall of the shower above you as you licked an experimental line up his well-trimmed shaft and squeezed it with your hands before dipping your head back down to suck on his head.

To your pleasant surprise he didn't taste like much of anything except maybe a hint of remnant soap. Mostly he just tasted clean, and felt firm and warm.

Giving oral probably wasn't going to be your new favorite thing, but when you took as much of him as possible into your mouth and a loud moan tore out of him as he reached to cradle the back of your head, you decided this wasn't going to be the last time.

The sounds he made, the way he shuddered at your every touch and lick, made the threat of gagging worth it and pushed away any thoughts of sanitation out of your brain.

And, you thought, if he was reacting to you like this when you'd never given oral before, how would he react once you were more experienced and smooth about it?

You definitely wanted to find out.

For now you drew on what you knew about him already and what you could recall from the books you'd read. Maybe they weren't the most reliable source, but bobbing on him like they described sure seemed to get a positive reaction.

You could see him fighting an urge to move his hips for your sake, and it drove you to show him your appreciation all the more, to thoroughly put your mouth and hands to work.

His knees trembled and you felt yourself leaking at the sight of it, at the guttural groan he released, the sensation of your hot, wet mouth and hands on his cock clearly overwhelming him.

It took one gentle tug of his left ball with your hand and he was pulling away, freeing himself from your mouth. You watched as his cock jerked with his release, his cum spurting onto the shower floor, and he shouted his pleasure out along with it, panting heavily after.

"Shit."

You smiled up at him, proudly as you gripped his thick thigh tightly, wishing you could replay the noises he'd made over and over. "Not bad for my first try?"

He helped you up onto your feet and kissed you feverishly, so intensely you were gasping when you broke apart. "Good then?"

He laughed lightly, sounding almost delirious. "Mi amor, I don't deserve you."

"It's not about deserve," you told him.

"But you are about keeping score, si?"

"Equality," you corrected.

"Please let me, preciosa," he murmured into your ear heatedly, and the next thing you knew he was guiding you back against the shower wall, kissing his way down your body as he sank to his knees, and hiking up one of your legs to gain better access to your pussy, using one of his huge hands to help you keep your balance.

He waited for your yes then ducked down, licking a long strip from your front to your clit. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head with the jolting pleasure the pressure of his tongue sent through your body and you opened up wider to him as you arched against the wet tile behind you, a drawn out moan slipping from you.

Yeah, oral was definitely growing on you.

xxx

Tagged: @harriedandharassed

xxx

Main Masterlist

xxx

[h1mmel]

houkai gakuen 2; aiki fanfic

a short modern au college fanfic of aisha and kika <3 in my heart they are alive and happy together

--

It was the kind of rainy day where things seemed colorless amid the bustling streets of the city. People came and went about their busy lives, not paying much mind to the dull weather and dim, lifeless chatter of passersby.

A tired college-age student by the name of Mushoku Kika was hurrying along, walking at a brisk pace in hopes to keep the laptop in her bag from getting wet. Eventually, as the downpour filled the streets and only continued to get worse, the girl opted to stop and attempt to find shelter while she waited for the rain to pass.

Of course, definitely not a factor of Kika’s own biased selection, the shop she slipped into happened to be a cafe. It also, of course, definitely wasn’t as if she’d almost used up her school meal pointcard only a month into the semester and knew the location of every cafe and bakery in town by now. This particular one, however, she was yet to visit, so it couldn’t hurt to have a treat while she was waiting, right?

While there was a brisk chill to the outside air that had seeped through Kika’s jacket, the sudden warmth of the cafe was a sudden but welcome encounter. As expected from a cafe, it smelled delightful, and the girl’s eyes instantly drew to a large case filled with pastries.

Among the trays were cookies frosted to look like various animals and designs, slices of neatly decorated cake in many types, and a collection of danishes and malasadas in multiple flavors, among other things. Kika was so engrossed in her choices that she hadn’t noticed the strawberry-haired barista behind the counter, waiting patiently to take her order. Several very long moments of deliberation passed before she had somewhat made up her mind and glanced up to find she was being waited on.

“Ah, hello… could I please have one cherry turnover, one maple doughnut, and one birthday cake pop?”

“Of course!” the bright-eyed barista pressed a few buttons on her screen, then cast another glance upwards. “Do you want something to drink as well?”

“Hmm,” Kika paused for a moment. Normally, she’d order a hot chocolate, as caffeine wasn’t something she preferred to have much of on the daily, but it seemed like a waste to visit a coffee shop and not try any coffee. “I want… something sweet. Would you recommend anything?”

“How about…” the pink-haired girl pursed her lips together in thought for a moment. “An affogato! It’s like, a coffee root beer float. I think you would like one of those if you have a sweet tooth.”

Kika had never heard of this before, but it couldn’t hurt to try something new. “Sure. I’ll have one of those as well.”

“Alright-y, and can I have your name please?”

Kika accidentally made brief eye contact with the girl, who offered her a friendly smile, and she felt her cheeks burn with embarrassment slightly.

“It’s Kika.”

“Aww, that’s a pretty name! Okay, it’s gonna be a couple minutes for the coffee, alright? You can have a seat and I’ll bring it out for you.”

Kika’s flustered emotions were quickly replaced with a moment of anxiety while she passed her point card over to the girl. One day, the university was going to put a stop to her daily snack breaks and the card was going to decline, but it seemed today was not going to be that day, thankfully. She breathed a silent sigh of relief as she slipped it back into her wallet and headed to take a seat.

The girl draped her damp jacket over the back of her chair to dry, taking a seat and setting her bag on the table. If she wasn’t going to make it to class on time, she might as well try to catch up, as much of a pain as it was.

However, Kika’s attention wasn’t easily held by her schoolwork, and she quickly found her eyes wandering back to the cute barista who was now busy at work behind the counter, making espresso. She hadn’t noticed initially, but there was a name tag attached to the girl’s pink apron, though it was too far away for her to see now. Kika waited patiently until the girl finished, coming out carrying a coffee mug and plate of pastries.

“Here you go! I hope you enjoy~” there was a singsong note to the pink-haired girl’s voice as she set Kika’s sweets down in front of her.

“They look so good,” Kika couldn’t tear her eyes away from the plate. “Did you make these?”

“Yep! I bake most of the stuff here,” the girl replied with a smile. “I’ve gotta get back to work now, but let me know what you think, alright?”

Before Kika could remember that she was going to ask the girl’s name, she was already gone, lost behind the sea of people who had suddenly lined up at the counter. However, when she glanced down at her plate, she saw a note written on the napkin.

Aisha ❤️ 0865317365

She'd left her phone number? The cute barista had given her her phone number, and Kika thought she might die on the spot.

Needless to say, Kika didn't get through much of her schoolwork as usual, and didn't return home until there were several missed calls from her parents as usual asking for her whereabouts, and the cafe finally closed for the day.

[alistairian]

(In reference of the previous post as well)

Also "potential threat" is such a nothing term that you can't really build any meaningful discussion around, and it doesn't make any sense to label anyone a "potential threat" unless they already have a history or you're just labeling every single person a potential threat no matter their gender presentation. And what kind of threat are we even referring to? Are they a threat to your life? Threat of harassment or assault? Threat of outing you? Threat of making you feel uncomfortable? Threat of giving you the cold shoulder/not taking your side in a seperate hypothetical situation? Threat of getting that promotion instead of you? We're using this reactive language in the most vague all-encompassing manner possible of course people are going to get worked up about it.

I only really see this discussion in my peripheral, and I'm guessing it largely stems from the tradition of women generally "needing" to be cautious around men, even more-so for trans women, but there's a point where people are just not being reasonable. I don't believe for a second that the people tossing the word threat around are extending that sentiment to every man in their life, and I would also bet that they know at the very least a handful of women who also pose a threat (whatever that may be).

Like yeah as a trans man, cis men do "pose a threat" and I am sharing spaces with cis men all the time. Cis women also pose a threat and a number of them are using their own gender and history of oppression to push back against ALL trans rights. My partner is transfem and yes they've been harrassed by men (they've also been harrassed by gay men while presenting masc) but it was women who cost them their job several times over and it was girls who bullied them/spread photos that got them banned from using the restroom at school when they were a teen. (I know this is more of a cis/trans dichotomy than masc/fem but I still think it counts)

Like in real life, not the hypothetical one where everyone adheres to rigid systems whether they like it or not, I know plenty of girls and plenty of trans guys and I just do not buy that most women (trans or cis) see all trans men as being just as threatening as cis men every time. It's just gender essentialism 2.0 where instead of the terfy penis=bad vagina=good we have the "progressive" masculine=bad feminine=good. If you zoom out rreeeaaalllyy far and only look at numbers and power structures most of us will never genuinely be part of, there's some merit there, but on an individual level it completely falls apart.

If a trans man doesn't feel that he is as threatening as a cis man then that's probably backed by his lived experience and daily interactions. And like, he's probably right! I will generally trust a trans man to be able to guage where he stands with the women in his life. Why the hell shouldn't I?

Idk, it feels like another one of those online philosophical discourses that are just completely useless, and on top of that using it to feed your own anxieties and widen the gap between yourself and the people around you is just all around destructive for both sides. "Institutions of power predominantly favour masculinity"=/="this male presenting person in a progressive space who is doing nothing wrong is putting me on edge because I've convinced myself that masculinity exists solely as an oppressive force."

Idk if we're on the same page here or if I'm just rambling nonsense, but I agree that the sentiment that trans men in queer spaces should know their place, take a back seat and listen because "society" just sees you as another man is just incredibly reductive if not also disingenuous. And then when trans men have their own discussions about their own experiences it's somehow acceptable to derail and either criticise them over the most minute specifics/terminology/etc or remind them of their priviledged status. It does remind me a lot of the ace discourse and "straight passing priviledge" and how all of that played out.

(And omg I don't want this to come across as a trans man vs trans woman oppression olympics thing, anyone who knows me knows I am not about that shit but this is the internet afterall)

Like I know I'm a threat! I know I have to go out of my way to make sure cis and trans women around me don't have reason to be scared of me! I don't have any community with cis men and I don't have any community with anyone else! Can't you see how lonely and dehumanizing it can start to feel? I haven't felt like a part of the queer community since ace discourse took off and I still don't feel welcome now. I'm in the double demographic expected to show up shut up and not take any resources for ourselves because we're only here on the technicality of not being heterosexual and not being cis.

And I keep my mouth shut about it because I know what people will say and they'll probably be right but I don't feel welcome anywhere and sometimes that really starts to hurt.

[deunking]

In A Long Time

You x The MoonKnight System

Rating: T

Warnings: Eating disorder not specified 

A/N: You are a part of the Mk system ! Have fun! 

Summary: You’re starving.

Word Count: 2,992

---------------------

You can’t remember when it was the last time you ate. 

The body is never really up for grabs; the other alters seemingly switch in and out on a specific system, which leaves you little or no time at all to front. It hasn't been that big of a deal in the past- the few times you've taken the body being because of silly things, like grocery shopping or going to the bank- but it's become rather annoying recently. 

Ever since your strike with death, the outcome of it all has made the others grow. . . Quite close. Even the mysterious third one that the other two and yourself haven't seen since childhood. They talk daily, they work together, and have arguments over petty things. 

They act like a family, which is excellent! What little memories you have of your family generally. . . Uh, lack sentimental value. So to experience your alters live with one another instead of amongst themselves is. . . Is cool. Really. 

You wish you could be a part of it. 

Which brings you back to now; you’re hungry. 

It’s the middle of the night, and, from what you can tell, the rest of your party is asleep. All tucked inside their metaphorical beds— ‘metaphorical’ because the last time you dived into the headspace, you found one of them sleeping on the floor— and gone with the sun. The body is still tethered to the last alter that fronted, but with a simple nudge, you can slip in unnoticed. 

The feeling of being something, someone, makes your heart twist. It’s been too long since you’ve fronted, and the body knows this. All those days, sitting back and watching through hidden reflections hits you like a truck. Loneliness sweeps through you, cold and unforgiving. 

You panic, thinking the release might stir one of the others awake, and hold your breath. Ten painful seconds tick by, yet nothing happens. Not another soul shoves you out of the driver's seat. You’re left unbothered, free.

And that might hurt more than you know, but the abyss crumbling in your stomach swallows that thought up and leaves nothing else. 

You’re hungry. So terribly— stupidly— hungry. Whatever foods the body last consumed fade off your tongue in seconds, trying to remind your brain that the bodies already eaten a failure as the absence of taste makes you feel sick. Though not ill with a cold but a morning sickness that comes with a reminder of the day's future events. Anxiety- you guessed- that made you repulsed by the idea of food. 

Yet you were so hungry. 

Throwing off the thin sheets, you stand up from the bed. A pile of sand greets your feet, yet the grains do nothing but shift beneath you. 

“ What the fuck,” You say out loud to yourself.” Do these guys not clean? I could’ve sworn. . . Hm.” You weren’t exactly there for the conversation. Still, a faint argument about who was responsible for cleaning up another alter’s mess— the very ‘clever’ ring of sand around the bed- does feel very familiar. Those arguments, who’s in charge of what, sometimes make you feel grateful for the lack of inclusiveness. The body may be an athletic mess; you’re not much of a go-getter. Yes, you enjoy a morning run every once in a while, but besides that and a few push-ups, you mostly like to relax. Do your own thing. 

Whether planting random things in your headspace or eavesdropping on others- your routine has never included chores of any kind. And it most likely never will. 

 You smile to yourself thinking about it. There’s been a handful of times- maybe once or twice- that a mess you’ve made was blamed on another innocent alter. 

Precisely one time- before you or either of them were consciously aware of one another- you tracked a nasty mess of mud into the apartment. An unfortunate result of taking a shortcut through the park on a rainy day after dropping off some bills at the bank. 

You didn’t even notice you’d done it before doing your second lap around the kitchen. Already munching on a pickle and your body sore from walking around the city, you casually shrugged and finished your snack. The mess was something that made you feel guilty for the poor alter that fronted a moment later, but the real kicker had to be watching them wash the pickle taste out of their mouth. 

Then, the memory made you shrink in shame. Your time with the body dwindled to practically nothing. It was a type of punishment for yourself that you subconsciously never confronted. The last time you were fronting was almost a month ago— just enough time to water the wilting plant in the window- you knew there was a problem. 

But you never took much time out of your day to think about it. Whenever the topic of your self-isolation reared itself in your head— you let it go. The thoughts would come and then leave just as fast. 

You thought of it as a type of amnesia, the kind that sucked any thought of anxiety out of you until you couldn’t remember what it was that made you feel upset in the first place.  It’s a pretty cool feature to have- thinking so much that you forget— but some side effects that you’ve come to discover haven’t been as savory. 

For one, your childhood was full of those types of thoughts. A few years ago, you might’ve been able to recite every horrible thing that you could remember, but now. . . You can’t remember much of anything. Maybe a few flashes of rain followed by the thundering strike of a belt. . . and darkness.

But nothing else. 

Nothing particularly happy or unique to yourself. 

“ Fuck.” You shake your head. The lingering thoughts turn into fuzzy memories you’ll probably forget the next day. You massage your temple and take a deep breath, the sand an unknown calming agent as the grains sink between your toes. 

Once you think you’ve sat around long enough, you’re hoisting yourself off the mattress. A slight itch tickles at your ankle, but you ignore it trying to focus on not making any more footprints in the sand—a careless mistake. 

Just as you’re stepping over the sand, something pulls tight around your ankle, and you end up face first on the ground. 

You grunt on your way down. The lack of time to brace for impact forces a strained breath out of your chest, making you cough and sink into the vibrating pain. 

Before you can process what happened— a burst of muffled laughter forces you to freeze. 

“ Qué idiota.” The Spanish accent is one you’ve heard multiple times outside of the headspace. The alter it belongs to being an annoying, sings in the shower, type that also loves to yell at the other two. 

“ Eso fue muy estúpido. No puedo creerlo.” You roll your eyes at the clear amusement in his voice. 

“ Jake! Shush! We’re supposed to be quiet!” Your face flushes red at the second voice, the British accent making you turn your head away from the mirror beside the bed. A pitiful attempt at trying to hide from the alters. 

This wasn’t how you wanted them to find out about you. 

“ ¡Qué! ¡Fue divertido! ¡Admítelo!”

“ I— Well, yeah, I guess it was. . . But still! Quiet!” 

Ignoring their continuous argument— the one you weren’t supposed to be aware of- you harshly rip the ankle restraint off and throw it on the bed. 

You hiss through your teeth, standing up. A sharp pain spreads around your knee before retreating into a dull throb. It’s not enough to stop you from trotting to the kitchen, but there is an evident limp to your walk. An embarrassing thing that makes you feel old as the joints in your hips pop when sitting down. 

“ Fue tu idea, ¿por qué estás tan enojado?”

“ Of course, it wasn’t my idea to bloody hurt them, you dolt. And I’m not angry!”

“ Parece Que estás enfadado.”

“ But I’m not mad. Do I sound mad? Cause I’m not.”

“ sólo Alguien Que está loco diría eso.”

“ I’m not mad! You’re just pissing me off-“

“ ¿Así Que estás enfadado?”

“ No! Would you stop saying that? I’m not-“

The more the two argue, the more a sharp pain increase behind your eyes. It stings with every little shout and burns an irritation through you. 

You don’t know if they could feel it— could tell that you were feeling this way- but even the most oblivious person would be able to see that you were upset. Hungry, hurt, and bitter. 

“ ¡Estás muy loco! ¡Es gracioso!”

“ Stop it! This isn’t helping, and you’re just being childish!”

“ Dice el niño enojado.”

“ Don’t call me that!”

Yet, you had to guess that neither of them had the same awareness.

“Lanet olsun.” You curse.” I just wanted a quick sandwich— is that too much to ask!”

You don’t realize you’re shouting until the silence of the apartment rings in your ears. The two alters arguing was replaced by the wind rattling the windows. You’re quick to try and find traces of them hiding in the sink's reflection. Not too keen on being watched, you’re relieved to see your reflection the only thing looking back at you. 

A simple thing that makes your shoulders relax and the knee pain bearable.

You huff. The hunger in your stomach pushes you to ignore a faint tug behind your eyes. “Want something to eat. . .Just a small snack.” The cabinets great you with little to nothing— a few packets of crackers, some peanut butter- but the sight makes you all the more hungry. 

“ Hm. . . Ah, here we are.” You lick your lips and reach for the empty bread bag at the very back. “ Perfect.” 

You throw down two slices of bread on the counter before pausing. The bag has two pieces of bread left- the two butt ends that no one wants and someone will surely throw away later- but their sight stirs your stomach. You shrug and throw the last two pieces out on the counter with the rest. 

The empty bag lays forgotten in the sink while you reach for the peanut butter. You generously cover each slice of bread until the ratio is outrageously ridiculous—the white bread is now nothing but a thin slice that breaks when you squish the pieces together. You lick your fingers clean of the peanut butter— same with the knife- and put away the jar. 

You don’t care to get a plate out and put both sandwiches on a paper towel on the table. You hum and lick the knife clean before putting it in the sink on your way to the fridge. 

“ Please, please,” You mumble, searching the fridge.” I know they’re here; I just saw them- aha! Yes!” You pluck the jar of pickles out from behind a bottle of milk and shut the fridge. A huge grin spreads across your face after cracking open the pot on the first try, and you stumble into your seat. 

“ Damn,” You lick your lips; the salty pickle smell makes your mouth water. Before you could savor the taste, one pickle disappears down your throat in a flurry of quick chomps. You bang the table and throw your head back dramatically.” Damn!” Your pink tongue licks leftover juices dripping from the corner of your mouth. The taste is enough for you to bite into another pickle- this one juicer than the last. 

“ Mm. Jesus Christ. Lezzetli.” You kiss the last bite of your second pickle. Not worried about anyone seeing you this way, the food haze clouding your shame- you throw it into the air. It bonks your teeth a bit but successfully makes it into your mouth. A satisfying crunch follows its way down into your stomach. 

You recline in the chair and take a deep breath. You’ve only had two pickles, but an annoying fullness is already pushing against your stomach. 

Which, is reasonable. . . To some degree. 

Once an acceptable amount of your hunger has been dealt with, you find out through the vanishing of your food haze- it has been many months since your last proper meal. Almost a year or so... 

You tilt your head at the thought. The idea of you not eating anything for almost a year is already concerning- for many reasons- but how you were able to ignore it is one thing entirely. 

Maybe you’re not as ‘educated’ as you thought about your own body. As the other alters eat enough for two human beings altogether- you thought your hunger wouldn’t be a problem. In the headspace, you don’t even have to breathe, let alone eat. And with you being in there for so long primary human nature shouldn’t be as. . . hurtful. It shouldn’t make you cry because you’re finally able to taste something.  

But it does just that. 

You let a few tears openly slide down your face. The cold chill a sizzle against your skin. You sniff, hesitating, before sticking your tongue out to lick up one of the drops. 

“ oh no,” The taste of salt brings more tears, and you lean forwards to hide your shame in your hand.” No. No…Neden tadı böyle? Neden.. . tuzlu?” You let a sob jerk your chest while reaching for one of the forgotten sandwiches. The disgusting ratio of bread and peanut butter helps shock your taste buds into forgetting about the tears. You push the food around in your mouth until it’s soft enough to swallow, but even then, a sob keeps it from going down. 

You let the sand which falls from your hands. The creamy peanut butter taste feels like gooey slime, coating your mouth and throat in a thickness that hurts. Your tongue pushes against bits of bread to try and soak all the peanut butter up, but all that does is make a giant mouthful of muck. 

A sticky, peanut and bread crumby mess. 

Your shoulders shake— the sobs growing more and more as unwanted thoughts try and force the bite down. 

Yet, you won’t swallow. An unwillingness feeds you to savor the taste for as long as possible. The thought of betrayal- being shoved back into the headspace- raging a storm in you that makes your stomach hurt.

They know you’re here. They know you’re here— they know. 

They’re going to throw you away. They’re going to starve you; you will never eat again. You will never be free. You will never be one of them. 

You will-

“ Hey.” 

Startled, You choke down the mess in your mouth. It goes down without much fight, but the aftertaste leaves you craving a nice sip of water. 

“ The sink.” You’re not one to take orders from others- especially people from Chicago- but the soft command nudges you towards the sink without argument. As if someone was guiding you by the shoulders, rubbing slow circles into your arms. 

You don’t realize it is- in fact- your arms until they move on their own to make you a cup of water. 

Your hands- no- your alter hands bring the cup to your face. Through tears, you stare at the rippling reflection on the surface of the water, visibly not your own, as the eyebrows twist in a way you know yours aren’t. 

Angry. . . But you have a feeling it’s not directed at you. 

“ Drink. Small sips.” The Chicago accent comes alive to cup your jaw. You lean back and let your hands tip a bit of water in your mouth. They hesitate as you swallow before allowing you two more generous sips. 

“ Ok. Feel better?” 

Still, it is spaced out, your throat recovering from the sticky peanut butter, and you nod.

“ Good. That’s good. Can I. . .?”

A gentle prod phases you out of the front for just a second. But it’s enough for you to sober up and shove back into place. Your heart is racing twice as fast now, trying to keep the alter put. 

“ Don’t-“ You shrink back at your shout.” Don’t, do that. . . Please.” 

You feel a pair of eyes on you and turn. The same eyes you saw in the cup stare up at you in the faucet reflection. It’s a bit hard to tell- your poor eyesight making you squint- but when the reflection moves up into the mirror a few inches away from the sink, everything becomes clear. 

“ Marc,” You breathe, the familiar eyebrow slit a sign as to which alter you were dealing with.” How. . . How are you?”

Marc- clearly uncomfortable- folds his arms. 

“ Could be better,” He looks down at the floor and then backs up to you.” Who are you? How long have you been here?” 

You couldn’t answer that question. Technically, you’ve been here as long as the other two- Jake and Steven- but the lack of good memories skews that. 

You decide to bullshit it.” Don’t know. A— a while. As long as Jake or Steven, probably”. 

Marc raises a brow.” Probably? Why’s that?” 

“ Um,” You look away.” I don’t— I can’t remember. My, my memories are. . . I can’t remember a lot.” 

You lick your lips with a sigh. Looking back at Marc, your shoulders hunch over your chest.” I’m sorry for all this… I was just-“

“ Are you ok?” Your lips tremble. The soft look in Marc’s eyes is like a punch to the chest, the pity making you feel all the more shitty. “ Do you, do you need something?” Marc eyes the forgotten food on the table. A pit of shame opens in your stomach. 

“ No, no. . . I’m good,” You give a quick smile, your head bowed.” I’m just going to— need to sleep. I’ll; I won’t bother you again. I’m sorry. Sorry.” 

You catch Marc’s eyes widen.” Wait, no-“ 

But it’s too late. You fade back into the headspace, a lingering taste of peanut butter replaced by the tasteless wetness of your tears.

[yukieyy]

°*{Insecure}*°

{Obey me x Fem Mc}

{Replaced Mc Au}

TW: Anxiety, body insecurity,mention of self-harm,

{A/n: Remember, you're beautiful just the way you are}.

Part 2

Part 1 → ♡

Song : (✿ ♡‿♡)

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

"Oi Ayla! Hurry up will you? We're gonna miss the match!!" Mammon shouted.

You were seated at the living room, with a book in your hand. Listening to them.

"eh?! Ayla didn't you say we were going shopping today?!" Asmo shouted from his room upstairs.

"Ayla, can you buy me the book I told you about before while you're out?" Satan said passing by the said girl.

It's been a month. A month. And this is your daily life now. Ayla this, Ayla that. You don't hate her. No, she's an angel, absolute sweetheart. It's just getting tiring now.

When she arrived, she came in a better state than you did. Didn't freak out, smiling, excited, and very motivated, even the brothers that were concerned eased up.

When you were showing them around... At least that's what you thought you were doing, she knew. a lot. Almost everything. Every history. Kinda made you feel like an idiot.

You never really were good at studying or taking care of yourself. But when Ayla arrived for some reason, you found yourself trying..harder. A good thing. Right?

Maybe.

Ayla hit it off with the others so well, she's amazing at magic which sparks Lucifer's pride, she's mischievous, making her a great companion for Mammon, She got immaculate style, which Asmo absolutely adores, She probably reads as much as Satan, making her a great friend to talk to for Satan. She's amazing in cooking and she cooked food from the three realms. How amazing was that for Beel? No one could believe it but she actually was also an otaku, those long, mouthful titles to an anime Levi was talking about? That had 7 seasons and 3 movies in total? Yeah. She knew every single one. Not to mention she could sew. She made a pillow. For Belphie. That's another win.

You were happy. Yes, you were!! She's not having any trouble which is a good thing, those lower-level demons didn't try to eat her anymore. Everyone loves her. A little too much you think.

Back to the current time, you sighed. Getting up from the couch, you walked to the door.

"Mc? Where are you going?"

You turned to the voice.

"oh, Lucifer. I'm just gonna take a walk and meet up with Solomon to help him make these shady potions he found in a book. Why?"

Lucifer walked up to you and place his hand on your head. Then something glows around you, he ruffled your hair and stepped back

"Stay safe and don't go too far in the forest alright? Come home before midnight okay?"

Your chest warmed up. "Of course! See you!"

"Don't forget to eat too!" He shouted again as you walked away, you turned back and waved at him.

"Wow."

Lucifer turned back to the voice.

"what."

"Didn't know you were THAT protective. That barrier is the one you always put on Lilith wasn't it? The one where even Diavolo would lose breath to crack?" Satan questioned.

Lucifer sighed, "yes, I'm just keeping her safe. She might not notice but since she arrived here till now for some reason those lower-level demons keep following her. I wonder how strong Ayla is to shoo them in just two weeks," He chuckled

"well, Ayla is amazing that's what I'll tell you, She managed to memorize this long spell in a day. I can do it because I'm a demon. but she's a human! She's amazing, I don't know why you and Diavolo decide to summon Mc first before Ayla," Satan rambles with a shrug.

"Satan. Enough. Don't say that to anyone. Especially Mc. " Lucifer frowned.

"what? It's the truth," Satan said.

You hold your breath. You turned back a minute ago because you forgot your D.D.D. but ended up eavesdropping. Your heart clenched. Tight.

You took a deep breath and shook your head and walked out of your hiding spot.

"oh hey, Satan!"

Lucifer was shocked," Mc? When did you get back?"

"just now, I forgot my D.D.D. there," You said pointing at it on the couch. Satan walked over and picked it up and threw it to you.

You caught it and thanked him. He just smiled and walked away.

"Mc, did you hear what me and Satan talked about earlier?"

You act innocent, "Huh? No, I told you I just got here, why? Is it another secret?" You wiggle your eyebrows and him with a grin.

He scoffed, "nonsense, now move along, Solomon will be waiting,".

"aight, see ya Lucibaby!!"

"I told you not to call me that!"

You laughed from afar and gave him a flying kiss.

Another week pass by, an exam was coming up. And you were freaking out. Even though you've studied like hell, you tend to forget a bunch of stuff. Which led to you being anxious most of the time.

Exam week passes. Oh, would look at that! You passed!. That's all. You just passed. Thank god you did. Well, it's better than Mammon at least.

Not until Lucifer called you to his room that night.

You entered his room with a sorry face.

Lucifer looked at you, saying nothing.

You sighed. "I'm sorry.."

Lucifer sighed, "come here. Sit down first and we'll talk."

You sat down, hanging your head low and fidgeting with your exam paper between your fingers.

"here, let me see your paper"

You took them out and place them on the table. Not looking at him.

"Mc" he called while patting your head. "I'm not gonna scold you, let's see where you're weak in and work on it together. Okay?"

You looked up slowly and nodded. The two if you then started discussing stuff that is hard for you to score in and after a few hours you were allowed to leave.

"Mc?" You heard a feminine voice called out.

"yes Ayla?"

She walked towards you, "Why were you in Lucifer's room?"

"oh we were discussing my exam marks,"

Ayla arched an eyebrow, " can I see it? Maybe I can help you?"

"oh no no it's okay, Lucifer said he'll help me study from now on, so it's okay, I don't wanna disturb you." You said with a smile.

She frowned, "Mc, just study with me. Lucifer is busy as it is. Helping you will add more burden to him. Decline it and I'll help you study okay?"

You got quiet. It's true, Lucifer is always swarmed with paperwork. How could you just accept his offer like that?

"yeah, you're right. I was too sad to remember who Lucifer actually was,sorry " you chuckled.

Ayal didn't smile, she just looked at you and sighed. "Okay, we'll study Tomorrow with Solomon and the angels, now go to bed"

You nodded and watched her walk away.

What the fuck was that?

The next day, you were huddled up in a study group along with Ayla, Solomon, Simeon, And Luke.

You were doing okay listening to Ayla but you were getting distracted now.

"Mc!" Ayla snapped. Shocking everyone on the table.

"y-yes?!" You answered

"pay attention, will you? We need to get this chapter out before going to a harder chapter!"

"Sorry Ayla, can we take a break? I can't focus anymore." You said. Solomon rubbed your back, comforting you because he knew you can't focus for a long time.

"break? We just took one like an hour ago. That wasn't enough?! Come on Mc, you've been here way longer than me, you should be better than me don't you think?" Ayla snapped

"hey hey now, that's out of the line, Calm down Ayla," Solomon frowned.

"But Solomon just look at her and us. How was she chosen?" Ayla snickered

You were speechless. You couldn't even bring yourself to say anything because you knew she's right. You knew. You just never admitted it. Afraid of falling to the dark side of your mind.

"Ayla, we should continue this another day, Luke's getting tired too, I'm sure you have other things too, let's continue this later okay?"Simeon said.

Ayla huffed and gather her stuff before stomping off.

"what just happened?" Luke asked.

"I'm pretty sure she's just moody, she's always busy these days." You explained to Luke.

"busy? But she's an exchange student too. We aren't as busy as she are we?" Luke replied.

"well..no. she's just.. busy with the brothers.. they're always looking and asking for her..."

Solomon noticed the change in tone of your voice. He hugged you, "don't mind her, she was always like that, wasn't she? Now let's go get some food. I'm starving,"

Simeon pat your head, "You're doing great, don't let what she says get to you okay?"

You nodded, sorry Simeon, it's way too late to ignore it.

You went home after dinner with them and upon entering you were greeted by Beel who were excitedly dragging you to the kitchen.

"uhh beel? What's wrong?" You asked while watching him took out bowls, eggs,flour and a lot of other stuff.

"can you teach me how to make those cream puffs you made last time?" He asked with twinkling eyes.

You can't resist but to cup his cheeks,

"aaaa you're so cute!! Of course, I can!" And then you found yourself, stopping beel from eating a raw egg, and uncooked batter including hot oil.

An hour and a half later, you were both covered in flour, but you managed to finish.

Beel asked you to pack it prettily for him, so you took out a box and some ribbons.

"Are you giving this to someone?"

Beel smiled, "yeah, Ayla, she said if I give her cream puffs she'll bake that amazing chocolate cake again for me!"

You froze. Oh. Oh... "I- I see, Well good for you now you get to eat that chocolate cake again. Here. All done, go wash up first, I'll put this in the fridge okay?".

Beel nodded and ran off to shower. You were cleaning the kitchen when Ayla stepped in with Asmodeus talking about a perfume that you don't know about.

"Mc?" She called out.

"Yes, Ayla?"

"Didn't you just get back from dinner with Solomon?"

"yeah? Why?"

Asmo laughs, "oh sweetheart you just got back from eating and you're still cooking?"

Ayla chuckled " don't eat too much, you gain weight easily don't you? And avoid sugary food too,"

"oh no I wasn't-" you hurriedly try to explain.

"no need to explain Mc, I didn't know you were a glutton like Beel too," Asmo said after grabbing an apple and walking out with Ayla.

You stood there. Frozen. Dark thoughts continue clouding. And this time. There was no stopping them.

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

To Be Continued

← →

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

[ghoul333]

serial lover

chapter one(?)

pairing: billy x f!reader

wc: 2.8k

summary: billy wants to kill you, but you change his mind last minute.

warnings: angst, murder, swearing, fluff(?)

a/n: i used both their point of views so i hope it came out alright. i definitely want to write another chapter. hope you enjoy! <3

He looked at you from afar. Lurking in the bushes, watching your every move. It was pretty much turning into a daily routine. He wanted you, bad. Billy was heavily debating when to break in one of these nights to kill you. Lucky for him, tonight might be the night, your parents weren't home and your siblings were nowhere to be seen. Just you, sitting pretty on your bed and staring at the ceiling.

You were the perfect victim. It had been a few years since the first killing spree in Woodsboro. Everything for the most part had gone back to normal. They thought about it for a while, and considering they had succeeded the first time, Billy and Stu decided to give it another go. Only for this job was Billy on his own, Stu being with his girlfriend.

A kind, innocent girl like you? That would be fun. Though you had never wronged the pair, you were somewhat of a loner. Quiet but willing to help when needed. Might've been a distasteful move, but damn was Billy eager to hear what your screams sounded like.

And now that you were alone, it was the perfect time to play a game.

Only you weren't.

Your brother in law, Ian, was in the living room, watching a hockey game.

Billy got into a stance when he saw you getting up from the bed, figuring you would leave the room. Instead, you paced in circles. He looked down at your hands, you were flicking your index finger against your thumb, as if it was out of anxiety. You seemed to be contemplating something.

You looked at yourself in the mirror. Billy having to duck down so you wouldn't spot him. It would be a different story if he was dressed up as himself, you two were acquainted after all, having one or two classes together. But he wasn't exactly 'himself' right now, he was Ghostface. Though he and Ghostface were one in the same, you didn't know that. You would only see a masked psycho hiding in your bushes.

He was about to pick up his cellphone to call your house phone, but something stopped him. His hand was frozen in place. When he looked back to you, he noticed a change in your expression.

You were crying in the mirror.

Billy cocked his head. What the fuck was this? One minute you're fine and seemingly calm. Then the next minute you're crying as if something traumatic happened.

He raised his brows, surprised when you stopped crying immediately, as if on cue. Your eyes had been glossy but were now completely dry.

Holy shit. Where did you learn that? He thought.

You didn't look sad anymore. In fact there was no emotion at all and for some reason, Billy loved it.

—

You wiped the tears off your face and stared at yourself in the mirror. Taking a deep breath.

Was that believable?  I think so.

A part of you wished you had someone here to let you know, but this was something you needed to do by yourself. You didn't even know if you were gonna go through with it, but the urge wouldn’t leave your mind.

Hearing a loud cheer from the other room, you groaned in disgust. You had a hard time believing your family would leave Ian here with you. Especially after all the shit you've taken from him.

You could confidently say that you hated your brother in law. Your sister disappointed you, putting up with trash like him and you resented your family for tolerating it for as long as they have. For over a year, he had lived in your house. Being nothing but a bum. Always being a fucking asshole to you and your family, then making you feel like shit when you call him out.

He could get away with it too. The fact your father was rarely in town made it easy and you hated it. You hated him. You wanted him gone, for good.

You knew there was only one way. No matter how many fights, he wouldn't leave. Refused to.

If he was gone, everything would be fine. It'd take time for some people to heal, but this was for the best.

Thinking about it put a smile on your face. Even though the inhuman thoughts ashamed you, you couldn't help but let them excite you at the same time. Never in your life had you wanted to do something like this, but you craved to see that piece of shit suffer. This would be the only time, and hopefully you wouldn't get caught.

You opened up your drawer, pulling out some scissors, studying them for a few seconds before putting them back.

You weren't ready to get blood on your hands. You looked around your room, trying to find something easy and simple. You looked down at your rack of shoes. Suddenly, an idea popped into your head.

You pulled the lace from one of your old sneakers, you'd have to dump them afterwards but you wouldn't miss them. While you wrapped the string around both your hands, something came over you. You didn't even realize you were walking to the living room, until you were standing right behind him while he watched his game. At that point, your body was doing the talking. Fuck what was actually right. Fuck morals.

Billy watched all this, following your every move. He cursed himself for not noticing the other obvious person in the house. How stupid. If he decided to pursue you there was a greater chance he wouldn't get away. Stu would've had to come. You kind of saved him there.

Seeing the single shoelace in your grip and standing so close behind Ian, he was actually anticipating your next move. Which surprised him, you had him on the edge of his seat. You had opened his eyes in those last few minutes. You had him so confused.

He had been watching you for days, basically knew your day and night routine. So, where did this come from? You put on an act, even for yourself?

He couldn't deny he thought you were, somewhat, adorable. Many victims had been adorable, but being adorable doesn't mean shit to Billy. If he wanted to gut you, he would.

There were times where you would just sit and stare into a void, but he didn't really think anything of it. He didn't realize how fucked up in the head you really were.

He couldn't kill you now, definitely not. You were turning out to be just as insane as he was. Billy felt drawn to you. He was rooting for you.

You stood there long enough for Ian to notice your presence behind him. Not even turning around, he opened his mouth.

"What the fuck do you wa-" He didn't even get to finish his sentence before you wrapped the shoelace around his neck, attempting to strangle him.

Hearing him speak irritated the fuck out of you. You'd rather cut your own ears off, but why do that? He should just simply stop talking.

He was strong, but you gave yourself props for not wearing socks, your feet were planted firmly on the ground, and they weren't going anywhere. His arms were violently swinging, voice coming out in gargles. How long did I need to do this for? Maybe a plastic bag would've been easier.

It felt like forever until he quit moving. Eventually, his arms fell limp and his breathing stopped. You stood there for a moment, the lace still wrapped around him. Had you killed him?

You decided you wanted to be sure, jerking the shoelace against his neck just one more time.

Suddenly his arm flew up, grabbing the shoelace and trying to jerk your body forward. You begin to struggle against him, pulling the lace as tight as you could so he couldn't grip it, but he was able to overpower you within seconds. Yanking you over the sofa he had been sitting on, you groaned in pain as your back hit the floor. The air being knocked out of you.

Where did that adrenaline come from?

Watching you flip like that, for some reason, worried Billy. Even he thought you had him. He couldn't let this happen, he felt the strong urge to come to your rescue. Sure, some random guy dying by the hands of ghostface didn't fit the route they were trying to take, but Billy was going to protect you tonight. He needed to.

He quickly got up from where he was crouched, beginning to creep his way towards the house. He figured he needed to move fast considering how much smaller you were compared to the man you were trying to murder.

"You little fucking bitch!" Ian managed to seethe, voice extremely hoarse. He got up from where he was standing and grabbed you by the hair, making you cry out pain. Billy heard the commotion from outside, and the sound he'd been wanting to hear. He didn't like it. Why?

Why did it make him angry to hear you in pain?

You wanted to avoid eye contact with Ian, but he yanked your hair again, making you face him. The look in his eyes seemed hungry, and not in a good way.

He gave you a vile smile, before slapping you across the face, making you tumble to the floor once again. You slowly reached up, touching your cheek. A single tear threatened to fall but you quickly blinked it away. It burned, almost vibrating from the impact. You knew the slap was hard enough for blood to come through.

Fuck.

You figured you were screwed, if you knew he was gonna grab you like that you would've just duct taped him to the coach. You really did not think this one through, even though you had been thinking about it for months on end.

You felt his body heat centimeters away from you. Looking up at him, he hovered over you.

"Thank you for finally giving me a reason to do that." He said, his tone spilling venom. "I'm gonna enjoy this."

You just stared at him, you weren't scared or upset. You couldn't even be mad, you just attempted to strangle your sisters husband. What could've been expected? You probably didn't have a great chance of succeeding anyway, but you couldn't fight your urges anymore.

People like him deserved death.

You didn't have time to process another thought before Ian picked you up, throwing you against the wall. You yelped as your side impacted harshly against the wood floor. You didn't even want to look at him anymore, you had failed and were probably gonna die, or get beat into a coma.

You didn't feel him grab you again. You didn't feel him pin you against the wall. You didn't feel the corner of the table next you digging into your side. You didn't feel anything. Not even the tears falling from your eyes.

"Don't cry now darling," He whispered in your ear, you shuddered in disgust. "This is what you wanted."

His voice made you want to vomit. Cigarettes and cheap beer leaking off his tongue. Even with him up to your ear, you could smell it. He was so fucking close. Everything about this man made you sick. You couldn't understand how your sister slept beside this thing at night.

He held your body against his while he shifted his hands. They wrapped around your throat and squeezed, very hard. You couldn't breathe. You wanted to just let it happen but your body was thinking ahead of you, once again. You grabbed his hands, trying to pry him off.

You actually couldn't fucking breathe. You were going to die, staring into this mans lifeless eyes, hearing his heaving breathing...his body pressed against yours. You would rather get stabbed to death. Or burned alive. You just didn't want him to be the last thing you saw before you died. You didn't want to die.

I fucked up.

Maybe you were selfish too. You were better off just hurting yourself to ease the pain. You couldn't get him off you and it was painful. Your vision was starting to blur.

You used your feet to try and push him off you, but your attempts failed.

Unexpectedly, you fell to the floor with a thud. You quickly inhaled a large breath of air, a small coughing spell following. You couldn't hear or see anything in that moment, just trying to get up, desperately trying to regain your strength.

Breathing had never felt so good.

Weak and in pain, you used one hand to guide your way up the wall, while the other one held your throat. As you regained your vision and started to focus on your surroundings, you began to hear struggling. Lots of struggling. You were confused, you thought it was just the both of you. As you looked up, you noticed a cloaked figure on top of  Ian.

Billy had gotten into the house from your laundry room window, finding the entrance a few days ago when he was planning how he would kill you. He crept in, being as quiet as a ghost. When he turned the corner, he saw Ian pressing you deep against the wall. He watched you struggle and fight, a few tears falling from your eyes.

He tackled your brother in law to the floor, making him lose his grip on you. Billy managed to gain the upper hand quickly, getting on top of him and wrapping his hands around his throat. Ian kicked his legs, but it did no good. Billy was too far up on his chest, sinking all his body weight onto him.

You stood there and watched. You were confused and shocked on what was happening, on where this guy came from. You looked down, noticing a knife next to the person in the black cloak. You begin to panic a little inside, wondering whether this person was saving your life or here to take you both out.

It only then hit you that the knife and the black costume seemed way too familiar.

Oh shit...It can't be.

Was this, The Ghostface?

From what you and the rest of Woodsboro knew, that killer who committed all those murders years ago was supposed to be dead. So what was he doing here?

You snapped back into reality when you heard Ian trying to speak. Looking at the both of them, you saw Ian's arms swing violently once again. Billy had managed to dodge most the swings, his arms steadily pressing down on Ian's throat. He did take a few hits to the face though, but he had been through worse.

It wasn't until he started reaching for the mask.

Billy could only lean back so far, if he tried anymore Ian would gain the upper hand in a matter of seconds. He usually didn’t care, since they were going to be dead anyway, but he wasn’t going to kill you.

You noticed what was happening, even with Ghostface's back turned to you. You slowly crept your way towards them, until you could see Ian's face again.

His eyes were wide as plates and his skin looked tight as the killer pushed down on his throat. Ian's eyes snapped to you, making Billy turn his head a little to see you in his peripheral vision. You could tell by the look in Ian's eyes that he wanted your help.

Tough shit.

You slowly walked around the two, Ian was convinced you were gonna help him, beginning to reach for the mask again, fingers brushing the mouth, trying to find a grip. You kneeled, grabbing Ian's arms, pinning him down. Your gazed flickered towards the mask killer, to find he was already looking in your direction.

You decided to flash him a smile. Though you couldn't see behind that mask, Billy had the same expression.

You lowered your body down, until your mouth was leveled with Ian's ear. He was trying to fight against you, but he had no more strength. He was done for.

"See you in hell, fat shit." You spoke into his ear.

Gargles could only be heard, and the hockey game playing on the tv was basically non existent. The life Ian once had, was now gone. You slowly stood up, ghostface doing the same. You both looked at his lifeless body.

“I don’t know whether I should say thank you, or start running.” You said, letting out a laugh. It hurt like hell to speak. Your eyes moved to the masked killer and once again, he was already looking at you.

You both stared at each other for a few seconds, before he took a step closer to you. You didn’t back up, and for some reason you didn’t feel afraid. Billy reached out his hand, lightly touching your throat.

You weirdly didn’t mind the feeling, you weren’t scared of his touch, in fact, it was very gentle.

His hand trailed up, cupping the cheek that had been slapped. His thumb lightly rubbed your cheek and you couldn’t help but sigh.

“Thank you.” You told him, but he didn’t say anything. You knew he couldn’t speak, he wasn’t gonna let you find out who he was. If you recognized the voice or didn’t there was still a chance.

A car pulling up into the driveway made you and Billy snap your attention to the front of the house. He looked at you once again, seeing the fear in your eyes. He had to help you out some more, and you couldn’t be awake for it to work.

“I’m sorry.” Billy lowly mumbled, before knocking you unconscious.

[yondzone]

Jibaku Shounen Hanako kun relationship headcanons

Hanako, Nene, Kou, Teru, Aoi

Warning : none

↰             𓂃              ⌲                    ⌂.

𝕾𝖔𝖋𝖙 𝕵𝖎𝖇𝖆𝖐𝖚 𝕾𝖍𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖊𝖓 𝕳𝖆𝖓𝖆𝖐𝖔-𝖐𝖚𝖓 𝖍𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖈𝖆𝖓𝖔𝖓𝖘 🛐

𝕳𝖆𝖓𝖆𝖐𝖔

At first Hanako-kun wouldn’t stop flirting with you, he will tease you every day in hope that one day you’ll give him you heart

He know that is flirting makes you uncomfortable but he likes the way you blush so much that he will really do anything so he could see this face of yours everyday

Probably call you "darling" or "cutie pie"

He's not afraid of showing how he feels about you in public and keep screaming his love for you without shame

He is extremely needy and jealous by the way-

Here is our touchy and affectionate boy, he like no i mean he love hugging, cuddling, kisses or anything that means he is touching you (he needs love ok)

When you are the one this time who start things like taking is hand or telling him some kind of compliment, he will be the one to blush like a madman.

"you are handsome " 

Whole face red like a tomato he would hide his head in your hairs out of shyness.

𝖞𝖆𝖘𝖍𝖎𝖗𝖔 𝖓𝖊𝖓𝖊

Yashiro in a relationship would be extremely shy (afterall she his finally dating yay)

She won’t be the one to make the first move a the beggining of the relationship.

She is lowkey  scared at how you woul react to her being clingy, but when she feel comfortable enough with you, she his gonna tell you how much she likes you everyday.

She call you at time you less expect it lie 3am because she found out a scary story that she absolutely want to share with you if you disliked scary story before you will now be obligated to like them because you’ll hear about them quite a lot.

Gardening date!! it may not sound romantic like this but be sure that you will come to love them just hanging in the garden laughing together, what to you need more than her smile? I mean she is just so cute.

She blush so much when you hold her hand its adorable, she loves hugging and kissing but she is too ashamed to admit it.

She aslo like when you come from behind her and hug her like there is no tomorrow (she will also not admit it by the way)

Yashiro love holding your pinkie!

𝖒𝖎𝖓𝖆𝖒𝖔𝖙𝖔 𝖐𝖔𝖚

Minamoto is a super Jealous type bofriend (almost stifling sometimes)

 He will protect you with all his migth and mark you as his own clearly so that everyone can see and never forgot who you belongs too 

He is extremly worried and feel anxiety about you leaving him one day so he his carrying so that you too see how much he loves and care for you.

At first they were some difficulties with the relationship because he would be too direct and would easily hurt your feelings but he got better

When he gets comfortable he would tease you on a daily basis (but not as much as hanako)

He will call you ‘senpai’ to tease you bu im not talking about the cheerful ‘senpai!’ im talking about a ‘s-e-n-p-a-i’ to seduce you but he his a child so its difficult to be serious sometimes.

He love calling you "sweet" (a contrast from his delinquent reputation)

He may look rude to other people but trust me the face he make when you smile at him will holding his hand (or both) is so adorable that it could kill anyone on the spot.

Also, he found a hobby of cooking with you.

𝖒𝖎𝖓𝖆𝖒𝖔𝖙𝖔 𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖚

When you first started dating him is popularity was kinda bothersome and if you are an introvert you can be sure that the heinous gaze of the girl in crush with him was enough to make you anxious.

He is perfect to cool you down when you are being anxious or stressed about something he is just so composed that it’s almost unbelievable.

Don’t even try to hide something from him, he’ll find out what you are trying to hide from im in no time.

Don't like t when you give him compliment that much he prefer to give them, If you try to look down on yourself, his kind self will be no more, that will make him immediately angry, to him you are perfect and you shouldn't look down on his favourite person (after his sibling), you.

Now that you have a big place in his heart you can be sure he’ll do anything for ya

Kinda force you to do any homework you may have he takes school and your future very seriously.

He won’t say it because he fell ashamed about it but he truly love giving you piggyback ride

He does not like to use nicknames like sweetheart or love he just prefer to naturally call your name it makes him feel some sort of close proximity.

He started learning how to cook just to please you but won’t give you anything until he can make the perfect bento box for you

His eyes are automatically looking for you in a crowd and his passion is watching you when he is sitting in class watching you study, sleep or when having fun with your friend.

𝖆𝖐𝖆𝖓𝖊 𝖆𝖔𝖎

At first she seemed oh so very kind and loving and the you discovered her true personality and when she told you that she just wanted people to loves her and asked you if you hated her now that you know about her true self while crying you really fell, literally, on your knees crying.

This sweetheart was in reality feeling so alone in the world and sad, fearful of her true self all those thing hidden being her sweet mask, in fact this permitted your bond to grow stronger.

Accepting each other the way they are and in your relationship you are both trying to liberate yourself.

Now making her express her real emotions and making her fears disappear became one of your top priority

You are the first person she feel like she can fully trust now that you gave her your acceptance

Sometimes her romanticism can be a little too overbearing and if you want to just have a calm and simple date it'll be difficult because she really want everything to be perfect.

At some point she started believing that she is still alive is because of you, you made her, she is alive for real now, hiding nothing in your presence.

So if it mean making you happy she’ll probably do anything.

On her way to school she loves picking one single flowers and giving it to you every morning.

Cant keep her hands from you hairs, in class she probably be seated behind you, listening to the class while braiding your hair and putting some leaves in your hair.

So that even when you are home you will think about her when you are trying to remove the leaves and undo the knot.

[milkyymoons]

Honey Tea | 01 Yandere!Jungkook

pairing: yandere!jungkook x reader (f)

genre: yandere, angst, mentions of mental health, future smut, manipulation, 

Parts: 01 | 02.

summary: You're delighted to find the perfect caregiver for your ill grandmother but are soon to find out his intentions are far from pure.

Your eyes were glued on the clock that hung on the brown tinted wall, nervously biting your lip. You really hadn’t liked the idea of having to even hire a caregiver for your grandmother to begin with but you weren’t left with much of a choice. Finding a job was hard to begin with, not only due to the fact that living in such a small town made the options limited but your lack of job experience didn’t make it any easier. Your anxiety disorder had only gotten worse over the years, interfering with your daily activities and made things such as simple trips to the grocery store a living nightmare.

However,  you couldn’t let your anxiety control your life any longer. You knew it was finally time to take some actual responsibility and do what was best for your grandmother. She had taken care of you and raised you all your life up until now, she was tired and  her heart condition wasn’t going to get any better. It was up to you to take care of her now, she was all you had left.

While your grandmother was decently well off and had insisted you didn’t need to get a job, you had refused. Medical expenses were not getting any cheaper and while the job you managed to land at the old bookstore down the street wasn’t much, it would surely help some bit. Besides, you were hoping it would help better your anxiety, being stuck inside the house all day surely wasn’t helping your intrusive thoughts.

Now the only issue was having to leave your grandmother home alone for so long, she had insisted she would be fine but you knew better. At her age, the amount of things that could go wrong would just race through your head nonstop.

The sudden knock on the door made you jump, you lifted  yourself off the soft leather coach and rushed down the small hallway of your home. You took a deep breath, not even bothering to check the peep hole in your rushed state and swung the door open, the chilly air instantly hit your face.

The guy in front of you looked exactly like his profile on the caregiver website, his tall frame towered over you and his large dark eyes quickly took you in. His dark hair falling below his ears and he gave you a friendly smile. He wasn’t much older than you according to his age on the website but his face held a childlike look to it, his handsome features were even more intimidating in person.

“Hello, you’re Y/n right?” He questioned, his voice smooth. The way his eyes scanned over your face almost made you want to hide.

“U-uh, yeah. You’re Jungkook right?” You asked, cringing at how awkward you sounded already. He nodded and you stepped aside, signaling him to come in.

“Sorry, my grandma is still sleeping, she should be waking up any minute.” You explained as you walked down hallway and he followed closely behind you. You guided him to the kitchen, offering him to take a seat at the table which he gladly accepted. You suddenly felt anxious all over again with his gaze on you.

“That’s okay, I’ll giver her the medications when she wakes up.” He smiled at you and his eyes darted around the kitchen, seeming to take everything in.

“Right, I left them on the counter for you and I texted you the details in case you forget. She takes her blood pressure and heart medication first thing every morning , her stomach is a bit sensitive so I’d prefer she ate something before she takes the-“ You rambled, pacing around the kitchen.

“Y/n” Jungkook cuts you off, his tone gentle. “Don’t worry, I know what to do. I’ll make sure to make her some breakfast.”  

You nodded your head in embarrassment but his words brought you comfort. You knew you were worrying over nothing , he had some of the best reviews on the website and obviously seemed to know how to care of elderly people way more than you ever would.

“Sorry, I’ve just never left her alone with anyone.” You admitted, sitting down on the empty the seat right across from him.

“I see, is she your only family?” He asked, raising a curious eyebrow.

“Yeah, my parents died in a car accident when I was little so my grandma practically raised me.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” He gave you a pitying look and reached over to take your hand in his. You were a bit taken aback by the sudden action but he didn’t look phased in the slightest.

“You seem like a caring girl, many young people like you wouldn’t think twice in sending off their grandparents to a retirement home.” He said, his eyes boring into yours. He seemed genuinely in awe.

“I could never, she’s all I have.” You didn’t even want to imagine a world without your grandmother , despite knowing the reality of her old age and health conditions. Not to mention, the idea of sending her off to one of those facilities just seemed cruel to you, you didn’t have the heart to even consider it.

Jungkook watched you, you were indeed more beautiful in person. The blurry profile picture in the website didn’t even come close to doing you justice. He could tell how much you cared about your grandmother, it was obvious even through the messages you had sent him when you first selected him for the job. He could tell you were an anxious person just by looking at you. The way you had seemed like a deer caught in headlights when you first opened the door, your smaller frame cowering behind it. It was obvious even in the way you sat now, your leg bouncing beneath the table and your eyes refusing to make direct eye contact with him ever since he had arrived.

He found it all endearing.

“I-I better get going! It’s my first day and I don’t want to be late.” You said, suddenly remembering what time it was, the last thing you needed was to make a horrible first impression the first day at your job.

“First day? No wonder you seemed so nervous.” Jungkook teased, his hand slipping from yours as you got up.

“Yeah, well more like first ever real job so it’s even worse.” You let out a small shaky laugh, walking over to grab your bag from the counter.

“It’s your first job? How exciting.” He beamed, eyes seeming to follow your every action.

“Well, it’s a bookstore so probably not that exciting.” You mumbled as you tugged at the ends of your dress anxiously. Jungkook lips quirked up at your scattered movements, not ignoring the way the dress hugged your curves.

“Please make sure to text me if you need anything. The fridge is full and my grandma usually likes oatmeal in the morning, feel free to help yourself when you get hungry too!” You said, pointing towards different areas in the kitchen.

“ The bathroom is down the hall too and oh! I completely forgot to give you a tour of the house!” You groaned , realizing your dumb mistake. You had not even properly told the guy how to direct himself throughout the house.

Jungkook chuckled , standing back up and he making his way past you.

“Relax, I’ll be fine. The  house isn’t that big, I can find my way around it.” He assured you, observing your grandmothers medication bottles that sat on the counter.

You nodded and starting making your way out the kitchen.

“Y/n.” Jungkook called and you halted, turning back to face him. He gave you a warm smile, eyes trailing over your exposed shoulders that the thin straps of your sundress failed to hide. “ It’s quite chilly outside, you should wear a jacket .”

“Oh, right. Thank you!” His comment only confirmed how fitting he seemed for the job of a caregiver, you found it cute. You quickly grabbed the cardigan laying on the couch on your way out and rushed outside.

—-

To your surprise, the first day at your new job had gone quite smoothly. It wasn’t nearly as nerve-wracking as you had thought but it mainly had to do with you not having to interact with anyone much. You had spent your day stacking and reorganizing books, you were glad your boss hadn’t put you as the cashier. The old man insisted for you to stay in the back, probably noticing how anxious you had seemed in the job interview and not wanting to risk you embarrassing yourself with customers. You were grateful for that in a way, if your job continued like this then you were sure you could do it.

“Grandma?” You called out as you stepped inside the house, your shoes padding against the wooden floors. You let your bag drop on the ground as you walked down the hallway. You heard faint laughter near you, seeming to come from the living room. You turned and saw your grandma seated on her rocking chair, happily chatting with Jungkook who was seated on the coach beside her.

“Y/n! You’re home, my dear. “ Your grandmother gushed when she saw you, a smile forming on her wrinkled face. You walked over to her, giving her a tight hug.

“You didn’t tell me such a handsome young man was going to be the one to wake me up this morning.” Your grandmother stated and your face heated up at her words.

“Grandma!”

Jungkook chuckled, his smile reminded you of a bunny in a way.

“I’m assuming things went well?” You asked, face still hot.

“Perfect, your grandmother is a joy to be around.” Jungkook confirmed, glancing at your grandmother. “ I think she’s the easiest person I’ve had to look after.”

You sighed in relief, overjoyed that there hadn’t been any issues and everything seemed perfectly fine.

“Jungkook made some delicious oatmeal, I didn’t know these caregivers were such good cooks. “ Your grandmother added and you giggled.

“I gave her all her medications and she should be good to go to bed soon.” Jungkook said, standing up .

“How was your first day at work, my dear?” Your grandmother asked and you felt Jungkook’s heavy gaze on you.

“Good , I think. I mean it was better than I expected.“

“You know you don’t have to force yourself too much.” Your grandmother insisted, worry lacing her tone but you shook your head.

“I promise I’m not.”

“Your grandmother said you are a bit of anxious person?” Jungkook mentioned, tilting his head in a questioning manner.

You glanced at your grandma, wondering how much exactly she had told Jungkook.

“I told him how much you struggle with your anxiety and socializing with people. “ She sighed, resting her hands on her lap. “ You know how much I worried about you getting a job. I want you to put your health first.”

“Grandma, I’m fine. This job is helping me.” You insisted, not being able to help the annoyance in your tone. You felt a bit awkward now that Jungkook knew about your mental health conditions. It seemed too invasive.

“Your grandma is just trying to look after you, there’s nothing to be ashamed of.” Jungkook’s tone was sincere as he stared down at you, noticing the change in mood you took.

He wondered how you would react to him knowing much more than just the surfaced level information your grandmother had provided for him. It wasn’t hard to get her to talk about you, it was all she ever did seem to talk about and Jungkook couldn’t be happier at that. It made it easier to get to know you despite him not being able to be near you all day. Your grandmother served as an immediate resource. Although, not much of what she had said was surprising, he had figured the type of person you were at first glance, her words only serving as confirmation.

—

As weeks passed , Jungkook became more and more involved in your home life and his presence became so familiar to you, almost as if he had always been part of you and your grandmother’s life. He was here everyday first thing in the morning until late in the afternoon, sometimes even staying for dinner. Even on the weekdays, he managed to stop by for a bit and check up on your grandmother. You couldn’t believe it at first, that you managed to find such a perfect caregiver.

“Y/n!” Jungkook called out from the kitchen as you adjusted the scarf around your neck.

“One sec!” You said, rushing out and making your way towards the kitchen, you were met by a plate of stacked pancakes, scrambled eggs and chopped up fruit on the table.

“Don’t forget to eat before you leave.“ Jungkook stated, fussing over you to take a seat. It had become a habit of his to serve you breakfast each day before you left to work, insisting that it was bad for your health to leave on an empty stomach.

“You really don’t have to do this, Jungkook. You already do so much for my grandma.” You smiled, hesitantly taking a seat and taking a bite out of the delicious pancakes. Your grandmother really wasn’t lying when she said he was an amazing cook.

“Of course I do, besides I have extra time before your grandmother wakes up. “ He pushed a glass of orange juice towards you that you happily accepted.

“You seem a bit sickly lately, are you getting enough sleep? “ Jungkook questioned as he took a seat beside you. You had been more tired than usual lately but you figured it was because of your job. Although it wasn’t that physically demanding, you were sure it was your body getting accustomed to not sitting at home all day for once.

“Probably just tired from work.” You replied as you took another sip of your orange juice. Jungkook eyed you, taking in how shaky your hands seemed as you tilted the glass over your lips.

He didn’t like you working. He didn’t like seeing you do any type of labor, no matter how small. You should be treated like a princess, with so much care and not having to lift a finger for anything. He didn’t like the fact that you were away for such long hours, not knowing what type of trouble you were in or what you were up to. Fortunately, that would come to an end soon.

“I’d prefer if you actually finished your food this time. “ He said, his tone a bit more firm this time. You almost giggled at his serious expression.

“You take this caregiving job really seriously.” You commented as took another bite of the food. “ I’m sure my grandmother feels spoiled.”

“Hm, I’m sure she does. I try my best to.” Jungkook hoped you were the one that felt spoiled. He took great pleasure in seeing you happy, making sure he had all your needs met. He had took time finding out what your favorite foods, shows, and hobbies were. Anything related to you, he had become obsessed with knowing.

“I need to pick up my grandma’s prescriptions today so I may be home a bit later.” You added in between chews.

“No need, I picked them up already before coming here.” Jungkook smirked, and you sighed.

“You really were born for this job.” You mumble.

—

Jungkook sat on his bed, his eyes glued to his phone screen. The tiny camera he had hidden inside your room was at a perfectly angle from your bed. Placed inside one of the eye sockets of your many stuffed animals, he had found your collection of them cute. He watched as you emerged from your bathroom, eyes following the tightly wrapped towel around your body. Your skin still damp from the shower as you reached over your dresser for the lotion bottle. He swallowed heavily as he watched your towel drop on the floor, exposing your bare body. His eyes hungrily took in every curve, from your breasts down to your core.

You were ethereal, no matter how much he had tried to handle his needs by fucking other women , he was never satisfied. They weren’t you, and they would never would be. He almost felt as if he was betraying every time he had went to bed with another women. He was disgusted with himself for even giving in, promising himself he would never seek the pleasure of another women. You were his only muse, the only person he wanted. You were going to be together forever.

He watched as you spread lotion over your legs, massaging them. The tightening in his pants only worsened and despite how much he tried to control himself, he let his hand tug his pants down and closed his eyes.

—

“I don’t know what’s wrong with her, she’s been sleeping a lot lately. “ You chewed on your bottom lip worriedly.

Your grandmother had been more lethargic than usual, you knew her old age made her sleep a lot most days but still, her sudden change in behavior was odd to you. Your grandmother was usually a chatty old lady and now she barely had the energy to hold a full conversation with you.

Jungkook listened intently, having his back turned to you as he prepared you some tea. He lifted the kettle and poured  the hot water over the tea bag, adding a bit of extra honey knowing you had a sweet tooth. He didn’t want you this anxious all night.

Especially not tonight.

“ You have to understand your grandmother is at a very delicate age now,” He began to explain. “ She’s tired and doesn’t have much energy for anything.”

You knew what he was implying but you didn’t want to accept it. You shook your head at just the mere thought.

“What if it’s because of me?” You wondered as he took a seat across from you and handed you over the mug. You thanked him and took a sip, the hot liquid soothing your throat.

“Bab-“ Jungkook stopped himself, not letting the nickname fall from his lips.

“You can’t blame yourself for these things. None of this is your fault.” He stated with a more serious tone, staring so intensely at you that you almost believed him.

“B-but what if it is? I mean, I don’t even spend that much time with her anymore. “ You reasoned. “Maybe she’s depressed.”

“You overthink too much,” He replied, watching as you took another sip of the tea. “ She seems happy all the time, you can’t expect her to be the same as a few years ago, it’s just the age.”

You sighed, nodding slowly at his words. You knew deep down he was right, your grandmother was just reaching a certain age that didn’t let her have much energy for much. However, that made you even more guilty having to go to work and just leaving her. Of course, you knew Jungkook took amazing care of her and she loved him, always gushing about how attentive he was. But that didn’t stop the guilt washing over you.

“I’m gonna go give her a good night kiss. “ You whispered, setting the mug down. Jungkook watched you until you disappeared from his view, rushing down the hallway.

You came into your grandmother’s room, turning on the lamp on her nightstand. She looked so peacefully asleep, you almost regretted coming inside in fear of waking her up. You made your way over to her bed, crouching down a bit to her level as you pulled back her covers a bit.

“Love you, grandma. Good night.” You whispered, pressing your lips to her cheek. Her skin was so ice cold that it made you flinch back.

You frowned, eyes scanning over body.

“Grandma?” You asked, shaking her shoulder a bit. No movement.

“Grandma?” You repeated, this time more panicked. You felt your heart drop as you continued to shake her more and no response came. She didn’t seem to be breathing.

“Jungkook!” You yelled as you stood up, fully taking the covers off her.

“Jungkook! Somethings wrong!” You yelled again, frantically running out of your grandmother’s room in search for the caregiver. You hurried down the long hallway, feeling your heart rapidly beat in your chest.

“Jungkook!” You found him sitting in the same spot you left him, he slowly turned his head towards you when he saw you enter the kitchen. “ Please call an ambulance! My grandma is not moving!”

“Y/n, calm down.” He said, slowly standing up from his seat. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion at his calm and nonchalant behavior.

“What!? How am I supposed to calm down? She’s not breathing!” You screamed at him, running past him in search of your bag.

“Where’s my phone!?” You dumped all the stuff out of your bag on the table, frantically searching for your phone.

Jungkook watched you silently , slowly circling the table. He took a quick glance at the clock that hung on the wall.

“Why are you just standing there!” You whipped your head back at him, angry tears already forming in your eyes.

“Do something! Go find hel-“ The wave of dizziness that took over your body made you shut your mouth. You stumbled back a bit, feeling a pair of arms hold you up.

The floor seemed to be spinning beneath you. You scrunched up your face in confusion. What the hell was happening?

“Shh, it’s okay baby.” You heard Jungkook whisper , his hot breath on your ear. Your heart continued to beat rapidly in your chest as your vision became more disoriented.

“W-whats going on?” You mumbled, feeling a heaviness take over you. Your legs felt weak, almost giving out beneath you as the arms around your body tightened.

“Everything is okay, baby. “ Jungkook hushed, arms holding you down.

“Just sleep.”

The tea. Your body chilled in realization.

“M-my grandma.” You attempted to free yourself from his grip, pathetically throwing punches against his chest. He almost found your attempts humorous.

He looked down at you in pity.

“Your grandmother was just an another obstacle between us, she’s in a much better place now.” His words made you freeze, your mind not knowing how to process what he had just said. You shook your head rapidly.

“No, no.” You let out choked sob, this wasn’t happening . None of this was happening.

“What did you do to her?!” Angry tears stained your cheeks, this had to be a nightmare. This couldn’t be real. Jungkook could never do that, this had to be some sick joke.

“What did you! Let me go!” You demanded but the weakness in your body only seemed to get stronger, your own body was betraying you right now as Jungkook continued to carry you down the hallway.

“Baby, you need to calm down.” Jungkook repeated as you continued to fight against his grip, he knew you wouldn’t last much longer. “ You’re going to hurt yourself. “

“P-please, let me go.” You cried, your vision blurry now. Everything seemed to spin, slowly fading away into darkness, your body falling limply against his.

“That’s it, fall asleep.” Jungkook pressed his lips against the side of your forehead. His princess was finally his.

“Everything is going to be okay, baby.” He smiled down at you, brushing your hair out of your wet face. “We’re finally going to be together.”