#but i feel like i remember the internet saying it’d be best to buy from the brand itself directly instead of dolls kill if possible????

[inkykeiji]

to chipmunky anon! i love buying clothes from dolls kill! some of their items of clothing are a lil… questionable lol but there are a lot of cute pieces within the website!!

chipmunk anon!! another suggestion for u!!! i cannot vouch as i do not shop at dolls kill hehe c:

[personasintro]

our tiny christmas | ksj

𝑴𝒚 𝑻𝒊𝒏𝒚 𝑺𝒆𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒕 𝑪𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒎𝒂𝒔 𝒔𝒑𝒆𝒄𝒊𝒂𝒍 | Our Tiny Christmas

✱⏤𝒔𝒚𝒏𝒐𝒑𝒔𝒊𝒔; this year's christmas proves to you that even though they're tiny, there's something special about your tiny and maybe not completely perfect family.

✱⏤𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈: seokjin x reader

✱⏤𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: fluff, tiny angst, parents au

✱⏤𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕: 5.5k+

✱⏤𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: none

✱𝒅𝒓𝒂𝒃𝒃𝒍𝒆 𝒔𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝒊𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒙✱

⏤𝒂/𝒏: Merry Christmas luvs! I hope you've enjoyed seeing these two again!!

𝒎.𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 | 𝒔𝒖𝒑𝒑𝒐𝒓𝒕 𝒎𝒆 | © 𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒂𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒓𝒐 (𝒏𝒐 𝒓𝒆𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒕𝒔 𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒐𝒘𝒆𝒅)

Christmas should be a holiday full of love, calm and nice energy with a possible beautiful decoration that could easily set everyone into a good mood. The holiday has a completely different meaning than it had a few years ago and the very own reason is right in front of you, watching the Grinch movie.

“Are you sure you don’t want to join us? It’s just the two of us anyway, and I miss baby pumpkin.”

Your best friend’s voice sounds a little bit beaten up over the thought that you’re not spending Christmas with him. You’re not sure why though, it’s not like you’ve spent last year’s Christmas with him and his girlfriend. Still, he makes sure that if you’ve any doubts about today, there is still a chance for you and your son to join your best friend on this year’s Christmas.

“No, no, it’s all good. I promise, thank you. He’s already invited and he’s coming, I can’t decline it at the last minute.”

“You can’t or you don’t want to?” Your friend asks and if you could see him, you know you’d see his tiny frown and suspicious eyes. Well, you’re glad you can avoid them right now because his words certainly make your heart jump a little. It’s like you got caught over something that never even occurred in your mind until now.

“Hobi,” you whine through clenched teeth, “I can’t because it’s not appropriate and he deserves to be with Yoojin too. He’s trying, okay?”

Last year’s Christmas was a little bit awkward to be honest, and it’s something that Hoseok knows because you told him everything. From the moment he came wearing some expensive and designer suit which you can’t even guess the price (nor you want to because you’re sure it’d make your head spin) to the point you were just awkwardly sitting together in your living room, staring at Yoojin who was too little to notice the awkward atmosphere between his parents. But of course, it’s only understandable how awkward it was because you’ve never been in that situation before and considering your relationship (or whatever the two of you have), it was awkward for the both of you. But it was quite funny to see him stuffing his face with gingerbread and other deserts you bought in the grocery shop. You just didn’t have time to bake anything, nor you knew how to bake Christmas cookies that time.

So you, wearing some Christmas sweatshirt you ordered from the internet and him sitting in a full designer suit, just awkwardly sat through the entire Christmas evening. But as sad as it sounds, you don’t think he’d get to spend the Christmas with anyone. You’re not sure if he’s still in touch with his father but something tells you they’re not that kind of family who spend and celebrate this family holiday together. And it breaks your heart at the thought that he’d get to spend it alone (even if he might not care about Christmas) but he has a family now. It’s different because there is your son connecting you for the rest of your lives.

You hear the deep sigh that he lets out. “I know, I know... maybe you could bring him over?”

You’ve to chuckle at that, even if he sounds unsure about the proposal and although you appreciate your best friend’s effort of trying to make things better, you’re definitely not sure him and the man who got you pregnant in the same room and on Christmas most importantly, is the greatest idea. Certainly, they get along better than they used to, but there’s still a weird tension lingering in the air whenever the two of them are in the same room. Your best friend eyeing your baby’s daddy and your baby daddy eyeing your friend like he’s about to stab him any second.

“As much as I appreciate that, I don’t think the last minute changes would be a great idea. I think we need to get used to being a family and celebrate Christmas together. Last year was awkward but I hope this year will be different.” you explain to your best friend who listens attentively, and you just know that he’s nodding along your words before he lets out another sigh.

“Well, you know him better than I do,” Of course, you do. You’ve spent months trying to persuade your best friend that the father of your child isn’t as cold as he makes himself out to be. “But I hope you’re coming tomorrow, there are a few presents waiting for you and baby pumpkin.”

You smile at the nickname, the nostalgia when your son was born and the first months of being a new mom washes over you. It’s crazy to think it was more than three years ago and so many things have changed.

“Hobi,” you whine, “I told you not to buy anything.”

You seriously don’t need any presents and Yoojin has everything he could possibly need or dream of. His father makes sure of it, just like you do.

“You did. But I never listen to you, do I?”

You chuckle, shaking your head at him. “You don’t, but me neither and I got you and Paige presents too. Don’t think I didn’t know you’d do this.” you grin, teasing tone evident in your voice as you hear him groan.

Of course, you bought him and his girlfriend presents too. You knew he’d never listen to you and your pleas of not buying anything. There’s nothing materialistic you or your son need. Like you said, his father makes sure of it. Even though you’re not his responsibility, he still asks whether there’s something you need. A few months ago when your bathroom battery stopped working, you just mentioned it when he asked what’s new because you’re just that awkward and didn’t know what to share besides Yoojin. The next day he visited with a new bathroom battery in a box holding it in his hands  as he bought it for you without any trouble.

And that just proves that he’s trying and doing his best, bringing a completely new side of him that makes you speechless every day.

When the call is over, another set of assuring words that you will be fine and enjoy this Christmas more than the last year, Hoseok finally lets you off the hook and says Merry Christmas. You glance at your son who giggles at the Grinch on the television screen, wondering just how he’s not scared of it but rather finds it funny and interesting. If you were his age, you’d run for the hills but somehow, he is brave for his age in a lot of things.

And you just know he takes that from his father.

As soon as the doorbell rings, you freeze for a moment and quickly stand up as you're trying to straighten the non-existent crinkles on your red dress. The ones you bought for yourself a few weeks ago, remembering just how awkward you felt in a Christmas themed sweater, especially when there was the father of your child looking like he came straight from the photoshoot. You know he's handsome just like that and he barely has to put any effort into his looks, which makes it even more stressful for you to look somehow representative and nice. And that's why you've decided to buy a dress with a price that made you scoff at first. Surely, it wasn't as expensive as any of his suits or just simple shirts he owns, but the couple zeros in the price were enough to make you feel doubtful whether you should buy it or not.

Thinking back to last year's Christmas, you've decided to put it into the cart and two days later you had a package waiting for you. You want to feel beautiful, you know you probably aren't from his circle where people don't think twice about spending money. You don't have expensive clothes and jewelry to show around. You still dress nice enough and you think your fashion taste isn't that bad either, but it all goes away when you look at him and realize that you are not coming from the same place or inner circle.

Anyway, you'll try to make this Christmas less awkward and more comfortable for the both of you. It's the second Christmas you're spending together as a family. Yoojin's third Christmas, the first one you spent with Hoseok together.

“Pumpkin,” you call out to your son, his dark eyes glancing at you from the sofa. “Your daddy is here. Are you coming to greet him?” you ask lightly, putting a huge smile on your face even though you feel like you can throw up any second.

You're not sure why you are so nervous anyways, it's not like he's not here almost every day to visit Yoojin or take him somewhere.

Your son, completely clueless to your inner battle, contrasts to the nervosity you're feeling and sounds ecstatic at the mention of his father and shoots up from the sofa before you can even utter a single word. His little feet paddle to the front door and you catch up to him, knowing he's too little to open it but you still rush yourself to get there just in time. Taking a deep breath, you reach for the doorknob as Yoojin jumps up and down yelling 'daddy' all over again until you open the door.

You barely manage to open it fully as Yoojin throws himself at his father, the tall and completely handsome man letting out a surprised 'oof' as he hugs his cheerful son.

“Hey pumpkin,” he greets him, dark eyes looking up at you.

Seokjin looks handsome as always. There's not a time you remember him looking opposite of that, his dark hair is swiped back revealing his forehead as his thick brows shoot up as he takes your appearance.

His eyes travel down your body, admiring the simple red dress that you're wearing. They hug your curves just in the right places and end just above your knees, so they are appropriate enough for Christmas. Black stockings hug your legs that look somehow longer than usual, but that's just an optical illusion.

He looks surprised at your choice of outfit and you almost feel like you overdid it or done it completely wrong, but as soon as Yoojin lets him breathe and steps aside, you understand why.

You've never thought you'd get to see Kim Seokjin, The Kim Seokjin, wearing a Christmas sweater underneath his coat, that somehow looks familiar to the one you wore last year. The sight of him wearing dark jeans isn't that unfamiliar, you got to see him wearing jeans before quite a few times but this complete outfit is a whole nother story. You let your mouth open before realization hits your and his face.

While you were trying to look like he did last year, he did the same thing by wearing an ugly Christmas sweatshirt he would probably never wear under other circumstances, but he makes it work and there's no lie that he looks good in it nevertheless.

“Oh my god,” he chuckles, you reacting with a set of giggles as you laugh and point at his sweatshirt.

“I can't believe you're wearing a Christmas sweatshirt,” you laugh, letting him to come in as you notice him grabbing a huge bag off the floor, full of presents. “Have you ever worn one before?”

He rolls his eyes at your teasing, patting Yoojin on the head who seems to be too curious with the bag rather than the conversation his parents are having. “No, I did it because you wore it last year. I thought--” he stops himself, glancing at your dress before he lets out an amused chuckle while he shakes his head at himself.

“Yeah,” you nod, knowing what he means. “I thought the same thing.” you tell him, glancing down at your dress.

“Well, you look beautiful,” he tells you, surprising you as your eyes snap to his, a lump creating in your throat as you give him a tight smile.

“Thank you, you look… good too.” you say, trying to hide a smile which he notices and rolls his eyes again.

“Please, don't.” he utters, shrugging off his black coat, fully revealing the Christmas sweatshirt that makes you smirk but you hide it by taking Yoojin's hand.

When Seokjin is done with taking off his boots and coat, he smiles at the sight of Yoojin waiting for him and outstretching his hand to him, and he doesn't hesitate to take it. You give him a faint smile, the one he quickly returns before Yoojin goes to show off your Christmas tree that you and Yoojin decorated.

When you see them sitting in front of the Christmas tree, while you're preparing the cookies and hot chocolate, as they're chatting and commenting on each decoration as Yoojin seems to be extremely proud at how your Christmas tree looks, you know this Christmas may not be bad at all.

“Let me help,”

You almost flinch at the sudden voice sounding behind you, before Seokjin appears next to you and takes the kitchen cloth from your hands. You're about to open your mouth, protest that you're able to dry off the clean dishes but you stop when he gives you a glare. That glare that tells you that he's trying to help and you shouldn't stop him from doing it.

“Is he asleep?” you ask, probably knowing the answer since Seokjin is standing beside you in the kitchen while helping you.

Each dish he dries off, you go and place it back to its place. The way two of you work is fine even while doing such a simple thing, it feels domestic and you don't persuade yourself that it's not. It feels nice, too nice that you could get used to this even though it's impossible.

“Yeah, it took a while. He was so excited about all the presents, kept talking about it until his eyes closed.” he says, a soft smile playing on his plump lips, a smile you see much more these days.

Since he's staying for Yoojin's bedtime every day, he decided to put him into bed while reading from one of the books 'Santa Claus' got him. You took that time to get rid of all the wrapping paper and mess in the living room. You're surprised that Yoojin didn't even ask for you, his attention focused on his father that read him to the bed. It's not like you've to watch Seokjin's every step, especially when it comes to Seokjin because you know he's perfectly capable of taking care of him without you being present. But curiosity got the best out of you and you caught yourself listening behind the door, appreciating how Seokjin's gentle voice carried around Yoojin's bedroom. Of course, you've heard him reading to Yoojin before – but it never gets old. It's the little things that make your heart bloom with warmth, remembering how scared you were when you found out you were pregnant. Telling Seokjin was never a plan, and as you look at it, you understand how scared you were at that time. You didn't want him in your life because he made himself clear, it had been all sex for him. But at the same time, you understand that you'd make a mistake if he didn't find out. Maybe later as Yoojin would be older, he'd certainly ask about his dad and grow curious why there's only one parent figure in his life. There's still a huge chance Seokjin would find out anyway, maybe in a few months or years even. Of course, you couldn't have known that he'll be amazing as a father and he's capable of changing his attitude. But deep down you know you'd regret if you didn't tell him. Maybe not straight away, but later.

“He was so excited about the presents.” you smile, remembering your son's bright eyes whenever he opened the presents or watched with big eyes as Seokjin helped him with opening it.

He brought a lot of presents with himself, a few gifted to you which you were completely speechless about. It wasn't anything you truly needed, but very well appreciated because he's trying. The thought of him picking up presents for you does warm your heart. A lot.

“What about you?” he asks slowly, the cabinet leaving a small thud as you close it.

He's done drying off the dishes, folding the washcloth carefully and skillfully, which you've never noticed before. You wonder if he cleans his own apartment, you know they had a maid when he used to live with his ex–wife.

“Me?” you ask, heart fluttering for a second as you nervously chuckle.

“Did you like your presents?” he asks, nibbling on his bottom lip which is very rare because he looks like he's contemplating whether he should bring this up or not.

The smile you give him is enough to calm down his nerves, his eyes flickering to your lips before he quickly looks back into your eyes, straightening himself. He's trying to mask whatever that could be, but you know he's just trying to look nonchalant. Luckily for you, you get to know him without him actually telling you. Just watching him is enough for you to know that he's nervous and not exactly comfortable. Yet he stays, eyes boring into yours.

“Of course I did,” you answer, “Thank you. You didn't have to buy me anything.” you remind him, smiling as you lean against the kitchen counter.

“Of course I did,” he repeats your words, causing you to amusingly roll your eyes which he reacts to with a chuckle before he continues, “How can I come here for Christmas and bring nothing to you? You deserve it, you know.”

You cock your head to the side, glancing at him curiously. “Yoojin is all that matters, I don't need anything. But I do appreciate you buying me all those things.”

Extremely expensive and not needed things, from cosmetics to some clothes which surprisingly, are casual and not the usual Seokjin style he'd go for.

“You bought me presents too.” he reminds you.

You did, but they weren't partly as expensive as his were. And you've found it extremely hard to buy him something because he can buy anything he wants to. There are barely any hobbies he likes to do because he's running between the company and Yoojin back to forth. He never mentions anything he likes to do or just generally likes, other than your home food. But you can't exactly give him your food as a present. So you just went along with cosmetics boxes and got printed Yoojin's picture which made him the happiest, you think. Hoseok went for a shopping spree with you and you can remember him clearly scoffing or whining about you being indecisive when it came to Seokjin's presents.

You couldn't help it. You had the need to do well, to buy him something that'll make him genuinely happy.

“Those were nothing,” you wave your hand, “I didn't know what to buy you. I spent the whole day in a shopping center trying to buy you something useful and something you'd like. Kim Seokjin, you're a very hard person to buy presents to.” you joke, causing him to let out a slight laugh which rings in your ears and causes you to smile automatically.

“Don't think I had it any easier,” he teases, slightly nudging you in your shoulder and you almost gasp at the sudden contact. “I dragged Namjoon's ass with me while he was trying to help me. I figured he's pretty useless when it comes to presents and giving advice.”

Giggling, you shake your head at the mention of Namjoon. You haven't seen him for a while, but you know he asks about Yoojin a lot and even forces Seokjin to show him some pictures of him whenever they're together. You know that because Seokjin told you that.

“Don't say that, he's a great friend to you.” you tell him, smile stretched onto your lips as there is honesty to your words.

“I know,” he tells you, letting you know that he's partly joking about that. Namjoon is his closest friend. “I just thought he could help me out a bit more.” he admits.

Giggling at him, there's a beat of silence for a moment while Seokjin stares at you with those dark eyes, the same ones you can't shake off ever since you've met him. You want to ask him why he's staring at you like that, knowing there's something more to his face expression but before you can even utter a single word, he beats you to it.

“I've got something else for you.” he says, coughing lightly as he reaches for the back pocket of his jeans while your eyes widen.

“But you gave me so much!” you exclaim, gasping when he pulls out a piece of paper.

“I'd give it to you when we were unwrapping presents but I didn't know what your reaction and answer would be… and I didn't want Yoojin to be excited about nothing, so… yeah. Here it is.” he says, lips giving you an awkward smile as he holds up the paper for you.

You take it slowly and look straight into his eyes with confusion. “What is it?”

“I thought we could have a little family trip. As much as walks in the park and other stuff are fun too, I think it'd be nice to get out of Seoul and make some new memories. Yoojin is older now, so he's perfectly fine sleeping elsewhere or we could just come back. There is this village, Boseong, I looked it up and there's such beautiful nature. There is also a kids park and lunapark nearby, I thought we could visit it in April. There is probably more that I'm forgetting right now, just look it up and let me know.”

This is probably the most he said to you for the past week and when you process his words, you're left speechless and gaping at the man in front of you. You don't hide the surprise and gratitude when you look up at him, seeing a few pictures of the place and information about accommodation. He's certainly right, the place is beautiful and you're sure Yoojin would love it there.

“I'm--wow, this is so… amazing of you,” you breathe out, “You know you can take Yoojin wherever you want.” you remind him, not wanting him to think that he has to ask you for permission to take your son away. As long as you know where they're going and he'll be taken care of, you've no intention in standing in the way of their father and son bond.

He took Yoojin to his apartment or out without you being there with them before, it's no news. However, taking him to a village for a weekend trip is something new but you don't see any problem with it.

“I know,” he says, “But I thought you'd come too.”

He sounds unsure, the tip of his ears are red as he tries to look away from your curious and big eyes. He looks cute and frustrated, definitely a rare sight for sure. And it does make your heart flutter at the fact that he wants you there too.

“Really? You did?”

“Well, don't sound so surprised,” he almost scolds you but refrains himself from doing so, as he gives you a pressured chuckle. “I want us to go… as a family.” he explains, a little smile spreading on your lips as you place the paper onto the kitchen counter.

He watches your every movement like a hawk, looking somehow uncomfortable by the silence and the lack of reaction you give him. He's desperate for your answer and you don't want to tease him any further, nor that was your intention.

“Of course, I'd love to go,” you tell him, your throat running dry as soon as a big smile erupts on his lips and the top of his cheeks get chubby. He reminds you of Yoojin a lot. It doesn't necessarily be about features, but the way they act. “As a family.” you add, smiling at Seokjin who doesn't hide the relief and even sighs in relief.

“That's… good,” he murmurs, taking a step closer to you as your breath hitches in your throat. “How have you been?”

You're startled by the sudden question but you quickly shake the surprise off as you shrug. “Good, really good. You're taking care of us really well.”

He does, it's true. Even though Yoojin spends his days mostly in daycare, and you've got a new job – Seokjin always makes sure you have everything.

“You're all I got,” he whispers, your eyes widening at his confession. “You and Yoojin, I mean.” he adds, same quiet almost as if he's scared of saying it any louder.

You know expressing his feelings and thoughts have never been easy for him, and he struggles most of the time. But whenever something like this happens and you get to see another piece of tender and honest Seokjin, your heart blooms with pride and happiness.

Your eyes flicker shut as the tip of his fingers tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear, his thumb lingering against your cheek. He's barely touching you and you find yourself leaning to his touch.

There are times when you wonder if Seokjin is really alone, especially in his apartment that he bought after he divorced his ex-wife and left her the house they were living in. It's his private life, something that's none of your business especially if it comes to his lovelife. Still, curiosity is a really interesting emotion to feel and sometimes you find yourself wondering if he already found someone. He's a better version of himself than he used to be when you met him. There is certainly someone waiting for him, someone who can bring out the best out of him and set another, different light than Yoojin does. It's sad to think that he'll be alone for the rest of his life. Well, not exactly alone because he has Yoojin – and you.

“It doesn't have to be just us,” you remind him softly, feeling his hand retreat slowly from your face. “I'm sure there's someone out there for you.”

He scoffs at that, although it doesn't come out as bitter or harsh. He looks straight into your eyes, making sure you see the look in them before he says; “I don't want anyone else.”

“You're saying that now, but you'll meet someone eventually,” Well, not if he'll be totally against the idea. “Someone who you'll be interested in.”

You want to give him hope, something he can think about even if it settles a weird feeling in your chest. Him having a new partner means that person will be a part of Yoojin's life and probably yours as well. It's not that easy, because that someone can be a total bitch and you'll just have to accept it.

“Are you interested in someone?” He surprises you by asking you such a question, causing you to gulp as you stare at him with doe eyes before you shake your head.

“What about that guy? Taehyung?”

You're surprised that he remembers his name, you never thought he gave that much attention to him. He did tell you you deserve someone better, someone who can give you something Seokjin couldn't. You remember those words like it was yesterday, they had and still have a huge impact on you. Maybe that's why you've decided to tell Taehyung that you're not ready for a relationship yet. The kind guy he is, he completely understood that but you did feel extremely bad when you saw the hurt he tried to hide and mask with his boxy smile.

Maybe Taehyung isn't the right person. Maybe there's someone else waiting for you. Or maybe that person is in the same room like you, looking at you as nothing else matters right now.

“I told him that I'm not ready.” you whisper, licking your lips nervously as Seokjin watches the motion before he looks back at you.

“And are you? Not ready?”

“He's a great guy, but he isn't the one constantly on my mind.” you admit, heart hammering in your chest because you know Seokjin is smart enough to understand your words and read between the lines, without you being completely direct.

“Is there someone else on your mind?” he asks diplomatically, cocking his head to the side like he's completely oblivious to your quickened breathing and the red flush on your cheeks.

“I think you know the answer to that,” you whisper, looking down to your feet just to avoid those mystery eyes that are watching you.

But Seokjin doesn't like that, he wants to see you and that's why he tucks a finger under your chin before he lifts up your head and meets your gaze. “I told you I'm not the right one for you. I'm just gonna hurt you.” he reminds you softly, eyes holding something you can't put a finger on but it's something between sadness and guilt.

“You're not hurting me, you haven't hurt me in a while.” you whisper, glancing at his lips before you look back into his eyes.

“What if I will? I can't ruin our relationship. I ruined too many things with you.”

In other words, he appreciates your relationship and what it had become compared to the beginning and that you used to be just someone that kept his bed warm, until he had his fill. As harsh as it sounds, it's true and there were more painful words said during that time. And if being just a father to your kid is all that makes the relationship between you two calm and nice, he'll take it and he doesn't want to risk anything. Sadly, he knows himself and even if he slowly reflects on the wrongs he did, and realizes how badly he fucked up, he's certain there will come time when he'll just snap and let that dark side of him out once again.

Having something more with you, something more than just sex, scares him. He's not even certain if he truly loves you, he doesn't know that feeling. All he knows is that he wants to make it up to you how he treated you, and that he cares about you. He may not say it loudly, but his actions speak up for everything.

“Let me decide on that,” you tell him, hand slowly approaching his chest before you smile at the soft material of his Christmas sweatshirt. The fact he still left it on is somehow amusing and cute at the same time. “You don't see yourself the way I see you.”

“But I know myself enough to know that you deserve someone much better.”

There he is again with his words. You sigh, ready to pull yourself away from him but he doesn't stop you as he wraps his arms around your frame. You gulp, staring up at him as he slowly licks his lips.

“Maybe I do,” you murmur, “But there's no one else I want right now.” you admit, causing him to blink a few times as you don't wait for him to react, slowly leaning in.

He doesn't move and you wonder if you crossed any lines. Surely if you did, he'd push you away or say something. But he's standing there, arms still wrapped around your frame as he lets your lips connect in a soft peck. It's too quick, too light for him to truly appreciate the softness of your lips.

You pull away, his arms slowly sliding off your waist as he stands there dumbfounded, looking cute as ever. Chuckling, you bite your lip as you walk out of the kitchen, stopping yourself just between the door's frame as you look at him past your shoulder.

“You wanna try my mulled wine?” you ask, wiggling your brows as he chuckles, straightening himself. “You can stay over too. I'm sure Yoojin will appreciate seeing you here in the morning.”

“Just Yoojin?” he finds the courage to ask, wondering if he crossed any lines with you this time and you see the way he gulps, staying glued on the spot.

But then your warm smile spreads onto your lips and it feels like the room just lightened up.

“Maybe his mom too,” you tell him with a smirk, nudging your head towards the living room. “Come on, the night is still young. Let's see where it brings us.”

He sees you walking to the living room, your hips swaying naturally as he gulps, feeling stunned for a moment before he forces his body to move to join you. Your words affecting him more than he was prepared for.

Somehow, Seokjin knows you're not talking about tonight's night at all.

[heyyyharry]

THE 1 (inspired by "the 1" by Taylor Swift)

...in which Y/N sees her ex again in a dream.

Word count: 1.5k

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Y/N opened her eyes and found herself standing in a hallway. The walls on both sides were painted black, and so was the ceiling. There was only one door in front of her, and as she looked back over her shoulder, the hallway stretched far and beyond into the shadow of nothingness. She had no choice but to move forward. She reached the door, turned the handle, opened it and stepped in. Embraced by the warm orange light, she found herself in her bedroom. She wasn’t the only one there, though.

He was sitting on her bed. His eyes lit up with a smile when he saw her as if he’d been expecting her. Why is he here? she wondered, then asked aloud, “Am I dreaming?”

Harry chuckled and patted the spot beside him on the bed. Hesitantly, she came and sat down. She wanted to reach out and touch his face, feel his skin, but she wasn't sure she could. If she did that, and it wasn't a dream, she'd be embarrassed; if she did that, and it was a dream, she'd be disappointed.

"Why do you think so?" he asked. She hadn't heard his voice in years, only on videos. It was just as warm and homely as she'd remembered.

She felt tears stinging her eyes as she said, "Because you're in New York this week for a show."

He pressed his lips together, a haunting yet tender smile. "That's right," he said. "And you're in London. Warm and safe in your bed."

After a moment of nothing but silent eye contact and the rapid pounding of her nervous little heart, he asked, "You okay?" British people sometimes asked this question when they wanted to ask, "How are you?" So Y/N wasn't sure what Harry meant in this case. Did he want to know how she was, or was he just checking if she was okay after what had happened between them years ago?

"I'm okay," she answered. That should be good for both possible meanings of the question, she thought.

He nodded once, his expression neutral. "So am I," he said.

Those words stung her heart like a sharp needle. She didn't want to hear that he was okay. She wanted to know how much he'd suffered from the pain of leaving her. She wanted to hear how miserable he'd been ever since he'd cut her off without giving her closure. He wasn't allowed to be okay, not then, not now, not even after twenty years had passed.

Was this really a dream? Because shouldn't she get to hear what she'd wanted to hear instead of the bitter truth – that he was doing okay and only thinking of her as someone he pitied?

Harry sucked in a breath. “I’m so glad to see you again, honestly. When you finally see someone you haven’t seen in a while and know that they’re alright, it’s easier to breathe.”

Y/N nodded while fidgeting with the hem of her nightdress. She felt this way as well. “Did you miss me?” she asked.

“I always miss you,” he replied. “Even when we were together.”

“So why did you leave?” she trembled. “You just left without giving me closure. You cut me off. I-I didn’t know what I’d done wrong.”

“It had nothing to do with you.”

“Then why did I have to suffer?”

Harry stared at her with his wide eyes. Even if he was just a product of her imagination, that shocked reaction was almost too real. “I was just wrong for you,” he said. “But if I didn’t leave, you wouldn’t meet him. You’re happier now. I could never give you this.” Y/N felt embarrassed that she’d temporarily forgotten about her man. Maybe she hadn’t expected that the Y/N in this universe where Harry was still in her life, could be with someone else.

Smiling, Harry reached out, took her hand and squeezed; his fingers were warm. “We would never have what you now have with him, Y/N. You wanted a secure relationship with mutual trust, while ours was full of insecurities and anxiety. The highs were too high, and the lows were too low. It wasn’t good for either of us.”

“I get it,” Y/N sighed. “Still, you could’ve told me.”

“I was scared,” he admitted, regretfully. “I was a coward. And when I left I was stupid enough to think that maybe one day I could come back and we could have the kind of relationship you expected from me.”

“You wanted me to just wait around for you and welcome you back with open arms after you’d left me like that?” Y/N asked, offended.

Harry shook his head. “I knew you wouldn’t, but I was selfish enough to have hoped so.”

Y/N sat in silence for a long moment and pondered. “You know,” she started. “This is the conversation I wish we could have had in the real world. Do you...do you think the real you still remembers me?”

“Of course. You were a big part of my life.”

Y/N’s shoulders slumped with an exhale. “You’re only saying that because I want to believe that,” she said.

Harry didn’t respond, only smiling.

“You know,” she began again. “I thought I saw you at a bus stop last week.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Then I realised you would never take the bus, and it made me feel like a fool.”

Harry threw his head back and laughed. “That would’ve been a crowded bus stop for sure.”

“Definitely.” Y/N rolled her eyes, chuckling a little. “That night, I had a dream in which you were doing cool shit, then you met some woman on the internet and took her home.”

Harry raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t you meet your guy on the internet, though?”

“Yeah.” Y/N shrugged. “I felt awful for being jealous in my dream. Maybe I just didn’t want to think you were leading the same happy life.”

“I’ve gone through a very public breakup after us, so I doubt I was leading the same happy life.”

After he’d left her, Harry had dated a model, and their breakup had been so nasty he’d written a whole album of breakup songs for that woman. Y/N hadn’t listened to it yet; she couldn’t.

“What time is it?” Harry asked suddenly, breaking Y/N’s train of thoughts. He whipped his head around to look at the clock on the wall behind them. “Almost 2 AM?” he gasped. “Damn, I think I should leave so you can get your sleep. It’s gonna be a busy day for you, love.”

Y/N opened her mouth to ask him to stay for a little longer. She had so many questions for him that she didn’t know which one to begin with. But then she remembered that she would never know more than what she already knew. Because this wasn’t the real Harry. He would only give her answers she wanted the real Harry to say.

“Okay,” she said as they both got up from the bed. “Thank you...for coming tonight. It’s nice to finally have closure.” He had visited her many nights before over the years, but this was the first night they’d ever had a proper conversation.

“I might not come back after this,” he said.

She was sad to hear it, but it was probably for the best. She couldn’t keep dreaming about him, because she loved her new man, and she deserved peace and happiness as much as Harry did.

So she nodded, lips pressed into a polite smile. Harry opened his arms, and they embraced for the first time in years. His hug felt too real. It was scary how she could remember exactly how it’d felt to replicate it in a dream.

When he let her go, he cupped her face and stroked her cheeks with his thumbs. “It would’ve been fun,” he said, “if I could’ve been the one.”

At this point, Y/N was holding back her tears. She told him, “If my wishes came true, it would’ve been you.”

Then, she woke up as her best friend rushed into the room, yelling about how she would be late for the ceremony if she slept in. Still dazed from her sleep, Y/N reached for her phone on the nightstand to check for a message that didn’t come. There was only a message from her man saying he couldn’t wait to see her in her wedding dress and that he loved her very much. She put down the phone and rolled out of bed. She was getting married today.

[ridiculousn3sswrites]

Lost in Translation

*Lafayette x Reader

*Request: “ @thefluffypancake asked: ‘Hey could you do a Lafayette x reader where she’s learning French and she try’s to ask him out on a date but accidentally asks something else. If not, it’s okay! Have a great day! 💞💞’”

*Warnings: Language, my own personal issues with French as a language. Let me know if I missed anything!

*A/N: This request is so old and I’m so sorry for that. Also I kinda changed the request a bit to reader saying she wants to kiss Laf because that word-for-word translation is off and you’ll see in the fic.

Tip Jar

**********

French was definitely a made up, ridiculous language. While - as your friends always felt the need to point out - every language was made up, French was even more made up than anything else. And yet here you were, trying to learn French on your own just so you could ask out the Frenchie in your friend group. It was a stupid idea in hindsight, but you thought it’d be cute to just surprise him by talking to him and then asking him out in French. Turns out it was a lot harder than you thought it would be. When your initial plan didn’t work out, you could always count on your friends to fuck up in a way that would make things somewhat better. 

Apparently, John never got the memo to not tell Alexander you’d asked him for help with French, and Alexander never got the memo that you learning French was supposed to be a secret. He definitely didn’t get the memo to never bring it up in front of Laf (even though you were pretty sure you’d told John you were trying to learn to impress Laf), so he did exactly that when all of you were hanging out. You had just got back to the table, coffee in hand when Alexander opened his stupid mouth. “Hey, how’s learning French going?”

“I mean, that’s one way to greet me I guess,” you said, trying to ignore the heat rushing to your face. Nope, the best course of action would just be to avoid the conversation. “Like, I haven’t even sat down yet.”

“Wait, you’re trying to learn French?” Laf asked, looking at you in excitement. You could already feel your resolve weakening.

“I mean, I’m trying but it’s not working out so great. Turns out that Duolingo owl only cares about Spanish,” you tried joking, taking the empty seat next to him.

“Dude, you asked me for help,” John spoke up, like that would make the situation any better. It wasn’t your fault that French was an utterly ridiculous language. What language even needs that many vowels? 

“Not my fault you’re a shit teacher,” you shot back, deadpan but completely joking. Even though John looked offended, you knew he wouldn’t hold it against you. After all, you were his ride back home. It took John a second to bounce back.

“Nah, you’re just a shit student.”

“I mean, my grades aren’t gonna argue with you there,” you laughed, the tension finally easing up some. You were still gonna strangle Alexander later, but for now things were fine. For all of five seconds.

“Why didn’t you ask me for help?” Laf asked, stealing your coffee and taking a sip. You were quick to take it back from him, trying to think of an excuse that wouldn’t give away your true intentions. However, now that you thought about it, just asking him to help you learn French probably would’ve been the easiest course of action. Have lessons with him a couple times a week for a few weeks, ask him how you ask someone out in French, and then bam! hit him with the question. Why do I always make things more difficult than they need to be?

“I… actually, I don’t know. Do you think you could help me out?” You tried to ignore the impressed look John was giving you. Sometimes you hated the fact he was your best friend.

“Yeah, of course! I’m offended you went to him first,” Lafayette said, stealing another drink of your coffee.

“Dude, buy your own!”

“But yours tastes so much better,” he teased.

“Gross, can you guys get a room or something?” Hercules spoke up. “Actually, don’t. I forgot I share a room with Laf for a second.”

“And you just made it worse than it had to be,” Angelica muttered, rolling her eyes.

“Anyways, when are you free? It’ll be fun helping you learn,” Laf said, turning his attention back to you. “Just send me your schedule and we can set it up!”

“Yeah, sure thing,” you agreed after a second, trying not to seem too eager. You and Laf rarely hung out on your own, normally having at least one of your other friends there with you. You couldn’t remember the last time the two of you had been alone, let alone you not being awkward when it was just the two of you. You texted him a screenshot of your schedule, your heart already racing at the thought of getting closer to him. You could handle hanging out with him with other people, but alone was a whole different story.

“Great! This’ll be fun!” His bright smile was enough to take your breath away, easing your worries somewhat.

“Yeah, I can’t wait.”

“Okay, so back to me,” John redirected the conversation, making a face at the look you were giving Laf. You couldn’t help but laugh at his obvious attempt, gladly letting him talk about whatever project he was working on now. No, you needed to figure out how you were going to handle this.

**********

Considering it was the middle of the semester, it was difficult to find a time to meet up with Laf that worked for the both of you. You both had papers, midterms, and group projects to work on, but you were finally able to find some time to have a little French session. The first few sessions were accidental, happening when Laf happened to find you in one of the 24-hour libraries, way too late for anything to actually stick in your mind. You found yourself only focusing on the way he spoke French, which was way too attractive to be fair.

After you had a few more impromptu sessions, you were finally able to actually set something up with Lafayette. For once, the both of you had a Friday afternoon free, so you’d be able to see him when you didn’t look absolutely destroyed by assignments and projects. It was still early on into your changed plan, but you figured now was as good a time as any to make your move. You managed to convince John to leave the apartment for a few hours at least, not that he made it easy on you. With his incessant teasing, sometimes you wondered why you chose him to be your best friend and roommate. 

Once John was finally out of the apartment, all you had to do was set things up. You set out some snacks, not really knowing how to host other than offering people food, had some study materials set out because the two of you were going to work on some other assignments before you started with the French lessons. Things didn’t have to be perfect, but you were determined to make it as close as possible. You had a note on your phone for what you wanted to ‘ask’ Laf about, and you were ready. The only thing you needed was for Laf to show up.

As you waited for Laf to make his appearance, you decided to get some reading done for class. Well, you tried to. You couldn’t help you constant fidgeting, switching between tabs as though there would be a different internet on each one, checking your phone and scrolling through Twitter - you really had no idea how you were supposed to pretend that you were going to study when he got here. You knew it would be super obvious that your mind wasn’t 100% on your work. Before you could think about it any longer, there was a knock on your door. Holding yourself back, you waited a minute before getting up to answer it.

“Hey,” you said with a smile, acting like you hadn’t just been fretting over how you were going to get through this.

“Hey! You ready to study?” Laf asked, tugging on his backpack strap as if to prove he brought his work with him.

“Yeah! I’m set up at the table if you wanna just head over there.” You silently cursed how non-human that sounded. As soon as the two of you sat down, though, things got easier. Even as the two of you worked, you kept a small conversation going, making jokes about things you’d just read or were working on, telling stories about class. For the first time in a while, things were going just like they were when the two of you hung out with the group. Lafayette made it really easy for you to like him.

After a couple hours of the two of you working on your own things, Lafayette closed his laptop, getting your full attention. Laf leaned forward like he was about to let you in on some giant secret. “Are you ready to learn some French now?”

“Yeah, I wanna know what you, Alex, and John are saying whenever you go into French,” you teased.

“Non, that’s a secret,” Lafayette laughed, looking away. “Alright, let’s start.”

The session started out much like your impromptu sessions: Lafayette would say a common word or phrase in French, he’d ask you what you thought it meant, he’d tell you what it actually meant, and then you’d repeat it to him. He’d fix any mispronunciations, and you’d keep going until you got it right. This would go on for as many phrases or whatever until one of you decided to take a break. It was a nice little process and was definitely helping things stick in your mind more than when you tried learning on your own or with John.

You were the first one to call for a break, your heart pounding as you tried to figure out how you were going to do this. You wanted to ask him out soon, not willing to let yourself chicken out at the last second, especially since you knew John would talk so much shit if he found out you kicked him out and didn’t even ask Laf out. As you were in the kitchen, filling up your water bottle as an excuse, you tried to calm yourself. The worst that could happen would be things getting weird between the two of you, the best was the two of you would get together, so that meant reality would be somewhere in the middle. You took a deep breath before making your way back to the table.

“Ready to start again?” Laf asked, looking up from his phone.

“Yeah, I actually had something I wanted to ask you.” You took your seat next to him, grabbing your phone to double check what you had translated earlier.

“Go ahead.”

“So, uh,” you paused for a second, gathering the last bit of courage you needed. “Right, uh, what does je veux te baiser mean? Because, uh, je veux te baiser.”

Immediately, Lafayette looked away, drinking his water so he didn’t have to answer you. You could just tell something was wrong and felt your face heat up as you just looked down at your hands. When Lafayette finally spoke, you felt your heart drop. “I… I don’t think you know what you just said.”

You looked up, eyes wide. You knew French was tricky, but there was no way you messed up something that simple, right? You tried not to appear too flustered, but you knew it was a losing battle. “Wait, what did I say then?”

“I think I know what you were trying to say, but you didn’t say it.”

“So what did I say?”

“Okay, so direct translation was that, but what you said was, uh, you uh wanttofuckme,” he rushed out the last part, and it took you a second to process what he said. If you thought your face couldn’t get any hotter, you were wrong. 

“Jesus Christ, I am so sorry. I mean I really like you but I didn’t mean to say that and I’m so sorry, that probably made you really uncomfortable and I understand if you want to leave and-” You were cut off by his lips on yours. You quickly melted into the kiss, even though you still weren’t exactly sure what was going on.

“Je veux t’embrasser,” Lafayette said as he broke the kiss.

“What?”

“Je veux t’embrasser. That’s how you say I want to kiss you,” he explained.

“Je veux t’embrasser,” you repeated with a small smile.

“Good.” You were rewarded with another soft kiss. Maybe French wasn’t so ridiculous…

No, it definitely was. 

**********

Permanent Tag List: @treatallwithkindness, @laic2299, @delaber

[dontcallmecarrie]

Hey, I vicariously live in my imagination to escape from the reality.

So, I have been wondering about the Rogues reaction to Tony defeating thanos, the IronSmaug, taking over the world etc...

Have a go at it, if you are interested.

It's also fine if you dont.

thanks, I really, really needed the distraction. it's been. an interesting week. not in a good way.

.

tbh, the whole 'what does Team Cap think about this mess?' thing in TWiFFON is...something I had originally been torn about, and everything that's been happening ever since means I keep finding myself going "do I have the energy to tackle this? lol no".

For some context, because you probably know my stance on this sort of thing but I prefer redundancy just to make sure we're on the same page: once upon a time, I honestly, genuinely did like the Avengers. All of them, and yes, that included Wanda [...for less than an hour, but still].

Back when I still had faith in the writers, I was constantly going "...okay, so when are these guys going to stop acting so OOC? Where tf are they planning on taking these character arcs?" and just being disappointed at each turn— but I stuck around because I liked the potential. Steve "what do you mean punching fascists isn't cool anymore?" Rogers, Natasha "my past is a tire fire and I'll just leave it at that" Romanov, Clint "where's Loki? Let me at him!" Barton and the rest of the group had their good points, and I gave myself a headache trying to figure out wtf was their thought process when the time came for them to do their thing in TWiFFON.

It wasn't fun, I only did it because it was absolutely necessary... and I still ended up receiving complaints.

Look: for me, character bashing is exhausting. I have enough going down in my life that I don't have any interest in writing it, and over the past few years I've seen more than one of the fandoms I follow/lurk in become salt mines that have me going "...okay, if you hate it so much, why are you even here?"

When I write, I try my best to emphasize the 'actions have consequences' thing I learned long before I hit puberty; but that doesn't mean I'm up for anything beyond that. Again, I used to like these characters, so seeing the levels of suffering canon— and some writers— put them through just has me stepping back for a moment.

But TWiFFON attracted a lot of people who were pretty far out there in terms of what they wanted, some of whom got very very pissy when it wasn't the story I wanted to write, which is...probably like 99% of the reason I'm still burned out on that AU. Apart from the recent personal life bs that means I am Not Up To Dealing With any hypothetical rando that shows up in my inbox, because normally I could not care less about what people think but my energy levels are. Um. Not great atm. Not sure I wouldn't bite anyone's head off if they wanted to start something right now, tbh, or just ragequit writing for a while because I have way better things to do with my time than deal with random internet assholes.

...apologies for the tangent, but now you know why that situation is one I'm normally kinda reluctant on tackling.

As for what I'd originally headcanoned:

Back before things hit the fan, I'd originally planned to have some little interlude snippets of what Team Cap's been dealing with. Mostly, it would've forced them to acknowledge that for all none of them liked or trusted Tony, he was basically just the personification of what the rest of the world thought of them.

Nobody respects them, anymore, or trusts them; Clint'd be in very hot water and sleeping on the couch for a while, and Hank Pym would never let Scott hear the end of his involvement in this whole thing because Hank hates the Stark name and the English language cannot concisely articulate just how pissed off he was that he had to publicly thank Tony.

Team Cap overall would also start to fall apart at the seams as more and more stuff came out and ey, turns out the leader they'd trusted and broken international laws for had lied to them.

By omission, sure, but honestly— do you think that'd go down well? The "oh yeah, I've known my brainwashed friend killed his parents since DC but I am not going to tell him unless I'm forced to" thing?

I don't know about you, but I for one highly doubt Sam Wilson would be okay with that. Or Clint, for that matter, and the list goes on because the more time passes, the more stuff keeps coming out of the woodwork and for the first time in years, they're forced to deal with it.

One of the things I planned to include in the sidefic can basically be summed up as "the curious case of Bucky Barnes": that is to say, what'd happen after he's taken into custody, and poke lightly at the clusterfuck we're unpacking here. Tony, feeling bad for losing control in the bunker, would basically go "shit I fucked up but I also never want to see him again but he's an even bigger mess than I am, that's a whole lot to unpack so you know what? I'm just throwing out the suitcase entirely here, have all the resources for support and help and if I ever see you again, it'll be too soon".

...to sum up, it's messy af. SI Legal would feature heavily because his particular case means he needs a team of lawyers, what with the 'former POW who's trying to recover from All The Trauma' thing, and the 'so I literally was just trying to buy some damn groceries when you guys dragged me into this', and Tony basically went "hey, so if anyone wants to help him, uh, I kinda have some interest in this one. Fair warning, dude probably killed Kennedy while mind-controlled, with our luck".

And along the way, there'd also be some of that one subplot I'd cut due to pacing issues: specifically, the one dealing with prosthetics.

Remember how Miriam Sharpe said her son would never walk again? Yeah, we'd be revisiting that: her family'd get a letter or something inviting them for clinical trials, and meet Rhodey in passing as he's using his own leg braces to get around because he's still healing. Bucky would get a few design offers for a free replacement for his arm, and it'd probably end up being a collab with Wakanda because T'Challa feels bad for his role in that mess as well.

So Team Cap would be seeing this, seeing how everyone's acting and reacting, and the way one of their own is getting all the help and support Stark Industries has to offer and realizing that yeah, they messed up. Big time.

...depending on my salt levels and how close we're sticking to canon, I was thinking this'd go one of two ways.

Either they'd double down and just go "ugh, Tony is a supervillain and we can't do anything about it!" while TWiFFON marches on and then later go "...you mean he did it by accident?!", or...

Well, canon's proven character development and continuity isn't really in their writers' vocabulary. So my original idea of 'they're forced to deal with the reality of the situation, acknowledge they messed up and slowly move on with their lives' would've been very unrealistic.

Again, most of this is intentionally vague, I had not been keen to tackle that mess in TWiFFON in the first place and the way things exploded on me means I really, really don't have the energy to do so now. Not when there's far better things I could do with my time, like mess around with AUs where people actually get along, or knit, or— well, the list goes on.

[lovemesomeharry]

BABY SHOWER

Warnings: None, just fluff

Words: 2.8k

Summary: When Y/N gets invited to a baby shower, Harry wonders when it’ll be theirs

Many rays of sunshine peaked through the thin curtains of her small apartment as the vanilla scented candle was lit on her nightstand, relaxing her muscles as she breathed the sweet air in, closing her eyes to bask in the moment before reopening them again. With gentle fingers Y/N grazed down at the onesie she had bought just a few days ago, wondering if it’d fit a newborn baby or if it was too big. She really hoped it was true that babies grow out of their clothes pretty fast because she really didn’t have a clue when it came to baby stuff, considering she felt too young to have a child of her own yet and none of her relationships had ever gotten to the point where the baby-talk became a serious topic. Not even with Harry, whom she saw the most potential to have a child with, ever mentioned starting a family with her and if Y/N was completely honest, she was relieved about that. She wouldn’t know what to say or what to think, after all she just wasn’t ready yet.

After a few minutes of blankly staring at the little yellow piece of clothing with the daisies embroidered on them, she put it neatly away in a cute little bag that said ‘congratulations’ on it in a glittery font. A little stuffed elephant and a red toy rattle completed her gift, making her hope that her friend would like them and that she didn’t do too bad for it being her first baby shower. And even after the multiple hours she has spent, searching on the internet, could prepare her for what was about to come, but she was sure she’d have a good time.

A small laugh escaped her lips as she remembered back to when she bought these items and Harry kept on insisting to buy the little elephant with the ridiculously huge ears, because it reminded him of the little elephant in the Disney movie ‘Dumbo’. Even though Y/N wasn’t sure if that was the right choice, she couldn’t say no to Harry’s many protests and those gorgeous puppy dog eyes, he gave her, like a small child begging his mother to buy him a toy he fancied. And at the end Harry always bought the best presents, much to her delight because she usually struggled with finding the fitting item.

Y/N was too deeply occupied with her thoughts that she didn’t even hear the shower turning off, but when her bedroom door opened with a small creek, she turned her head towards the source of noise. Instantly a small smile spread over her concentrated features when she saw Harry. His wet curls were slicked behind his ears as tiny droplets were still covering his smooth looking skin that looked more red than usually, probably from the warm temperature of the water.

“Hey, baby.” He greeted her when his shiny green eyes met her set of glowing eyes with longing. With his large hand he gripped his towel tighter around his torso as he walked towards her at a fast pace, as if he hadn’t seen her for too long. Harry didn’t even notice his desire to be close to her, it came so naturally to him. If one of his friends were like that he’d be quick to point it out and whisper about how whipped they were. Now it was his turn to feel those butterflies in his stomach and he can’t say he had anything to complain about, considering how he’d feel so shallow if he hadn’t had those exciting butterflies. When Harry was close enough to her, his hands immediately found her waist while hers were placed gently on his toned chest. Y/N was able to feel his faint heartbeat, but she didn’t know how it had picked up on speed when she touched him. “What are you doing?” He asked before nustling his face into her neck, prepping small kisses along her sweet skin, ignoring the fact that his wet curls were tickling her.

She tried to push him away for a second before she let him do what he always did; love on her. And she couldn’t help but bite onto her bottom lip to keep a grin from spreading. “Was just packing the gift for the baby shower.” Her hands immediately met with his wet curls, running smooth circles on his scalp.

He breathed pleasantly at the gentle pressure. “Did you put the elephant in it?” Harry made sure to ask after enjoying her touch for a little while.

Y/N laughed. “I wouldn’t dare not to.” And she truly meant it, as she trusted him to drive all the way to the party, just to give her the stuffed animal.

“Good.” Harry simply stated as he let go of her with one last peck to her forehead. “I kinda liked waking up next to you today.” He confessed as he grabbed another towel to dry his hair with. His back was facing as he roamed through the dark wardrobe with one hand and holding the towel up with the other. Harry was able to feel her stare on him but he couldn’t see the questionable look on her face.

“Kinda?”

He let out a breathless laugh, looking at her over his shoulder. “I liked it. A lot. You should stay over more often.”

“I would, but you talk way too much in your sleep.” She half heartedly joked because he does talk in his sleep and at first it did freak her out a bit but by now she’s gotten used to that. She wouldn’t let him know that yet, knowing it’d take the opportunity away to tease him.

“Oi! That’s not true.” Offended, he pouted his lips and crossed his strong arms in front of his bare chest. “Besides you snore.”

“Now you’re lying. I never snore!” She stomped with her foot, like a grumpy child.

“A little.” She gave him a glare but he just laughed it off. “Why is it called a baby shower, by the way?” I mean, there’s no baby to shower, right?” Harry tried to change the subject, so he wouldn’t make the mistake to get her more annoyed with him, or even get her angry, when he had no intention of insulting her. To be honest, he thought it was endearing to watch her sleep, as her mouth was slightly agape and tiny snores would leave her nostrils. She looked so at peace that it warmed his heart instantly, thinking that she felt that comfortable with him.

Y/N let out a breathy laugh, shrugging her shoulders, as she put her hand on her mouth. “I don’t know, H. But there definitely is no baby, yet. And why would someone throw a party, just to shower their child?”

“Good question.” With his fingers he grabbed the small gift and peaked inside, seeing the items they had chosen together. A warm feeling captured his body when memories clouded his vision and those recurring thoughts he’s had ever since their shopping spree.

For a second too long, he kept his stare, as his body tensed a bit. He really didn’t want to make her feel uncomfortable with what was going through his head as he feared it might be a little bit too soon for them to discuss this topic.

But Y/N noticed his tiny change in behaviour. “Is everything alright?” She asked with a sprinkle of worry on her eyes as her right hand grabbed his arm, in a trusting manner.

“I– yeah, everything’s fine.” Harry wondered why it sounded so much like a lie when everything was indeed fine. They didn’t fight, they didn’t have an issue or anything that would have been concerning. But why did he feel like he had to get something off of his chest, when there was no reason to?

Y/N raised her eyebrow at him. “That did not sound convincing.” He tried to hold her stare but when she returned that with a more intense glare, he gave up in defeat, knowing well, that he couldn’t lie to her.

Harry sighed. “Fine, but just please don’t freak out.” He waited for a reaction from her and when she nodded her head, he finally breathed out the air that he had kept inside unpurposefully. “It’s– I have been thinking lately and you can totally stop me if I’m going too far –or if you feel pressured, uncomfortable, caged, not rea–“

“–Harry, breathe, please. You’re rambling.” She pinched her eyebrows together and had a small 'v' formed between her eyes, which clearly was a sign of her concern. With a pleading look, she put her arms around his torso and pulled him closer to her chest. Her hands guided up and down his back, comforting him to tell her again.

He nodded his head repeatedly, as he went on. “Ok, it’s just, I think babies are cute and sure, they poop and puke and cry a lot but they’re worth it, at the end.” With big eyes he looked her up and down as confusion overshadowed her features. Where was he going with the conversation?

“I guess?” She asked as she studied him with uncertainty in her big eyes, urging him to continue.

He tried to get his breathing steady, but failed as he tried to form a new sentence. “And I don’t know how it is to be pregnant, but I guess I’d like to be pregnant, one day –if I could!” With his right foot he tapped against the light hardwood floor while the anxiety got the best of him. He truly was unsure whether or not he should talk about this topic but at this point it was too late to back out anyways.

A small chuckle left her lips, completely ignoring the seriousness but she wanted to get rid of the tension that seemed too thick for her liking. “You can’t get pregnant, Harry.” She joked slightly but when she saw him shook his head at her, she frowned again. He looked at her expectedly, as if she should know what was going through his head and he really wished she could read his mind. A shiver ran down her spine when she noticed when his stare would wander from her face to her stomach, realisation hit her like a brick. “Oh… do you want to have kids?” Y/N didn’t know why she asked that. She always has suspicion, whenever she sees him interact with children. His eyes would lit up, a huge smile spread across his face, making Y/N wonder if it didn’t hurt and he’d be successful at making them befriend him. So, it really wasn’t a shock that he wanted to have kids, to call his own.

He slightly nodded. “Yeah. Not right this moment, but one day. Do you?” Troubles made themselves presentable in her head, wondering if he’d be fine to wait for her to be ready to. But when he made it clear that he wanted to wait himself, a small smile tickled at the corners of Y/N’s sweet lips.

“One day, far away in the future, sure.” She shrugged her shoulders, getting worse at hiding her happiness. Her heart started beating faster and butterflies erupted in her stomach. Did he really want to have kids with her when he could choose anyone? Y/N didn’t want it to get to her head because he never said that, but she felt happy. Her twitching lips, confirming her sudden boost of dopamine.

“Good, because I’d want to be the father of your kids.” He confessed in a tiny whisper while a part wished she didn’t hear and the other part hoped that she did. “And just so you know, no matter what happens I’ll always take care of you and the kids.” His voice gained strength after a smile broke out on her face, giving him the confidence he needed. Her heart was growing shamelessly at his affectionate words but she tried to play it cool, not knowing that she failed at that.

“Oh, so we’re having multiple children now?” She tried to joke, poked his rips, that made him shy away from her a little while her eyes looked him up and down adoringly.

“I mean, it’s up to you but I could deal with one, or two, or three, or maybe seven.” Shocked, her eyes shot wide open. “I’m joking! Not seven, but maybe more than one, if you’re up to.” Y/N rolled her eyes and her arm slapped almost unnoticeably his strong and tattooed arm before caressing the spot with soft strokes.

“Are you sure, you’d want kids with me?” Nervously she bit her lip, just wanting him to confirm his feelings and that she wasn’t getting happy and sappy too soon. He wouldn’t joke about it, would he?

“Of course! Imagine having little versions of us running around the house. Someone with our features mixed together perfectly.” He stretched his arm out as he dramatically began to describe. “They should have your perfect nose.” He bopped her nose with his finger. “Or those beautiful eyes.” His hands grazed over her eyes. “Or those perfect, soft lips.” His thumb ran over her lip as he bit onto his own. “To be honest, they should be just like you.” His eyes were staring intensely right back at hers, making goosebumps cover her delicate skin. “They’d turn out to be perfect.”

Y/N shook her head in trance as she didn’t know what to say at his affectionate words. Butterflies went crazy inside her after he said what he said and she couldn’t grasp the fact how he could love her like that. Not that she didn’t know her worth but she just wasn’t able to understand how love like this could exist. “No, they should have your hair, and your eyes and those lips.” She managed to choke out when tears tickled the rim of her eyes.

He laughed, allowing his own eyes to get wet. “Well, nevertheless they’ll be perfect.” His Arms went around her body and pushed her towards him in a soft hug. “I’m sorry, have I made it weird?” He asked, as he pulled away. Harry didn’t think that she felt uncomfortable because the way her eyes were beaming and her lips were twitching, spoke volumes. But he could never be too sure, right?

She shook her head, letting him smile wider if it was possible at this point. “No, no, no! I think it’s cute, I don’t mind.” Harry felt her hand tickling his back but he didn’t pull away as he loved to feel her touch in him. Her thumb was rubbing small circles at his back while his hands were gripping her hips tightly, not wanting the moment to end as both of them stared into each other’s eyes.

His excitement got the best of him, when he received the confirmation he needed. “Did you think of any names yet? I was thinking of Harry Junior!” The words came rushing out of his mouth while he imagined the future ahead of them.

Shakingly she laughed and let her arms wander to his neck, where she grabbed and pulled softly at his curly hair. “Babe, I’ve to go to the shower.” With her finger she pointed at the clock. “It’s getting late.” She said, before she leaned in to kiss his blushing cheeks.

“Oh, yeah, of course. Do you need me to drive you?”

“No that’s alright, thank you.” She pressed her lips onto his in a sweet kiss, lingering a bit after their confessions were made. With one last longing look, she grabbed the present, turned around but before she exited the room, she made sure to let him know what she thought of that name. “We’re never naming our child that!” A smile grazed Harry’s lips as he thought of all the bickering that would be ahead of them if they were actually expecting. And no matter how hard the journey will be, he couldn’t wait for the time to approach sooner.

[crazy-loca-blog]

Hola preciosa! Here are this week's questions for Ethan and Casey!

Note: Once again, this week’s round focuses on photos! Dialogue is entirely optional, though for some of these, it’d be fun to know the story behind the pictures ;) Tumblr mobile only allows 10 picture uploads (there are 10 questions), so collages are highly encouraged! Otherwise, the non-beta version of Tumblr desktop will allow more than ten.

Have fun!

For MC

Favorite childhood photo of Ethan

What’s your phone wallpaper image?

Contact name and photo for Ethan

Top three photo results when you Google Ethan

First picture of or with him that you uploaded to social media

For Ethan

Favorite childhood photo of your spouse

What’s your phone wallpaper image?

Contact name and photo for your spouse

Top three photo results when you Google your spouse

First picture you ever took of or with your spouse

*Credit to the anon who sent me the first three questions!

Masterlist

Casey: Babe, Bree sent us some new questions! Hurry up, we've been so busy that it's now or never, now we have time to answer them all!

Ethan: Oh, it's that time of the week again... should I be prepared for you to embarrass me again?

Casey: Maaaaybe... let's see...

Ethan: Just remember to choose your words wisely, honey... I may always strike back...

For Casey:

Favorite childhood photo of Ethan

Ethan: Casey...

Casey: *with a mischievous smile* What?

Ethan: Don't you dare...

Casey: *with a mischievous smile* What?

Ethan: You know what...

Casey: Nah... don't worry... I won't embarrass you by showing our audience a picture where you're making out with a teddy bear...

Ethan: *blushing* 30 seconds and you did it... how embarrasing... for the record, I was playing doctors and decided to practice CPR on my teddy bear, I don't know why Casey and my dad insist on that making out thing...

Casey: Sure, sweetie... well, Alan sent me this one a while ago and it's definitely one of my favorites. It reminds me of that time when I heard Ethan talking to Mrs. Martinez about how he was "a lovable scoundrel who got away with everything"... that's exactly how I imagine his face after being caught making mischieves...

Ethan: *smiling* I won't even try to rebate you... you're so right this time...

Casey: What do you mean with "this time"? You should know by now that your wife is always right...

Ethan: That's debatable, but whatever you say, dear...

What’s your phone wallpaper image?

Casey: I could have a hundred different pictures of my hot husband... but then I remember that I work at a hospital and my phone can be seen by a lot of people... so I have no choice but to keep things PG...

Ethan: I'm also your boss... it would definitely be a problem...

Casey: Don't worry, I have my ways to show off my husband...

Ethan: Now I'm scared to ask... but tell me...

Casey: It's easy... every time a person sees my phone and they ask me if you're my boyfriend, I show them my ring and then tell them "he's actually my husband"... 💅

Ethan: *laughing* Why do I find this so embarrassing but at the same time I feel that have to see it?

Contact name and photo for Ethan

Casey: Again... we really have to keep things professional because of the job... but that doesn't mean that we can't play with our ringtones... *wink*

Ethan: I have to admit that it was a smart idea... when did you take that picture?

Casey: It was one of those days where you weren't on a "photo mood", which, for the record, is almost every day. For some reason, it worked and I liked it...

Top three photo results when you Google Ethan

Casey: OK, there's no way that I'm winning this round...

Ethan: Why?

Casey: Are you serious? Ethan, you have a picture with prince Charles! How am I supposed to top that? All of my pictures in Google are taken from the Edenbrook site!

Ethan: Wait... do you google yourself?

Casey: Of course I do! Don't you?

Ethan: No, why would I do that? You know I think the Internet is a scary place

Casey: I don't know... curiosity...

Ethan: Then why did you never google me before being accepted at Edenbrook or during medical school?

Casey: I already told you, I wanted the knowledge to do all the talking... and OMG you're just so handsome that I don't know if I could have been able to focus on the medicine... so apparently my original plan worked...

Ethan: *smiling* I think it did...

Casey: Anyway, what surprises me about the picture in black and white is not the fact that they wanted to use you as a model for the Edenbrook site because just look at yourself babe, but the fact that you actually agreed to do it!

Ethan: I had no choice... they said something about representing the hospital...

Casey: *smiling* That's what I thought... and the third one is from Harvard, you went there to talk to the students and you asked me to go with you "to represent the diagnostics team"... back then you had some funny ways to ask me to go on a date with you...

Ethan: But this wasn't a date, it was a professional activity... but I might have wanted you to be there with me because I wanted to spend time with you...

Casey: *feeling victorious* Yes! You finally admitted it! Is this being recorded?

First picture of or with him that you uploaded to social media

Casey: Let's say that this picture is... "complicated"... look at it, even the text is so awkward! I wish I had a better first picture...

Ethan: Agreed... we weren't at our best there...

Casey: Yeah... it was taken at the Harvard activity, during the time that someone *looks at Ethan* decided that we needed to "reset" our relationship because my professional developement was more important...

Ethan: I don't know what was I thinking...

Casey: Oh, I know... I'm in peace with that decision though, after seeing things in retrospective I think I was able to understand why you did it...

Ethan: *surprised* You did?

Casey: Yeah... you did it because you cared about me... the only problem is that it didn't work... *smiling*... I ended up falling more for you... no regrets, though...

Ethan: *kissing her cheek* No regrets from me either...

Casey: If you ask me, I prefer the one where I made our relationship Pictagram official, but I don't want to cheat... even though the fact that no one was actually surprised made me wonder how subtle we really were before making our relationship public...

Ethan: Agreed...

~~*~~*~~

For Ethan:

Favorite childhood photo of Casey

Ethan: Now I need you to explain me a few things here...

Casey: *surprised* OMG, how did you get this picture?

Ethan: I happen to have a very good relationship with your brother... he said he found it in one of your grandmother's photo albums, but he didn't tell me the story behind it... what were you doing here?

Casey: *smiling* It was some Halloween, I don't remember if we were 4 or 5 years old, but I remember we didn't have money to buy new customes, so we told mom and dad not to worry about it and dressed up with whatever we found at home...

Ethan: *smiling* And that included some panties in your head?

Casey: *smiling* Hey! I thought they were a cool hat!

Ethan: By the way, when were you going to tell me that your hair was curly... and... were you blonde?

Casey: My hair changed a lot over the years, and I just lost both, the curls and the lighter tone... why is that even important?

Ethan: *smiling* I don't want to think that they gave us the wrong baby at the hospital if they happen to be blonde...

Casey: *choking on her water* Wait, why are we talking about babies now? I thought they weren't in the cards for us...

Ethan: *smiling* We both have changed our minds so many times throughout our relationship... I might have changed my mind about this...

Casey: *surprised* Now we do need to have some serious talk after this...

What’s your phone wallpaper image?

Ethan: My gorgeous wife in our honeymoon...

Casey: You're a fan of my photos with little to no makeup...

Ethan: I am... I don't even know why you buy makeup, you don't need it...

Casey: The bags under my eyes say otherwise... I appreciate the compliments, though... *winks*

Contact name and photo for Casey

Ethan: She's the one who added the hearts... and the one who changed her name from "Casey" to "Wifey"...

Casey: Of course I did! Do you know that in case of an emergency these emojis are super useful, because they make your name to appear at the very beginning of your contact list?

Ethan: Of course I know it... but if that's your excuse for adding the hearts, then you should have kept your name, they won't know who they are calling to...

Casey: Of course they'll know! They'll be calling your wifey! 💅

Top three photo results when you Google Casey

Casey: See? Boring...

Ethan: What are you talking about? I remember each and every one of these pictures and they all make me feel incredibly proud, both as your mentor and as your husband...

Casey: *blushing* You're making me blush!

Ethan: It's the truth, they only show accomplishments... the first picture, the one where you're in black, is your official picture as an attending and head of the diagnostics team at the Edenbrook site... the second one, the one where you're wearing a blouse, is from your first day as head of the team... you look so happy and empowered, so ready to take the world by storm... and in the last one you are giving a speech to nurses in London as part of the collaboration between some American hospitals and the British NHS...

Casey: True, that trip explains your picture with the prince, too. Care to elaborate why there was only the two of us there? I don't want our audience to think that we were on some type of paid honeymoon before getting married...

Ethan: They won't think that...

Casey: Trust me, they will...

Ethan: *laughing* They didn't even know it was just the two of us there until you mentioned it!

First picture you ever took of or with Casey

Ethan: That's easy... this one...

Casey: *surprised* I remember this one! I can't believe you kept it!

Ethan: Why would I delete it? You look beautiful!

Casey: I don't know... maybe because I asked you to take me this picture as a favor... back then we didn't even know we had feelings for each other! I was just an intern and you were my mentor!

Ethan: I remember it... we were at Donahue's discussing some things on Naveen's case, and while we were waiting for Reggie to bring us our drinks, you said you liked the light and wanted me to take you a picture for your Pictagram... but your battery was dead...

Casey: Don't lie, babe... I wanted to have a picture with you for my Pictagram, but you refused because we were in the middle of the competition for the spot in the team... but you agreed to take me a picture... wait... did you have feelings for me back then?

Ethan: I don't know, I think I was developing some feelings but I was very confused...

Casey: Wow, I can relate because I most probably felt the same way about you, but I'm surprised!

Ethan: Well, that's it for this week... we had a very good time...

Casey: You've surprised me this time, Ramsey... especially with the first and the last pictures, I swear I had no idea that you had them... it was a rollercoster of emotions... thank you, Bree!!!

---

Gracias guapísima!!! I have so much work this week that this was a very much needed break... loved it!!!

[rextasywrites]

Sweeter than milk - Chris Redfield x Jill Valentine

“You are talking bullshit right now, my Love.”, Chris shook his head, one hand now moving from her belly to her chest, placing it right above where her heart is. “You are still breathtakingly beautiful. I love you and I will love you forever.”

“Will you even love me when I am old and gray?”

“As long as you won’t be a grandma like the Baker grandma - sure.”

Warnings: pure smut and some fluff, lactation & pregnancy kink

enjoy <3 <3 <3

Read on AO3

This pregnancy had been nothing but a bitch on Jill so far. At first, all of her bras didn’t fit anymore. She went up enough cup sizes to make every porn star jealous, but for her it was nothing but annoying. Thankfully Chris was up to the task to buy more with her. Then Jill started to gain weight everywhere, once again growing out of clothes she loved so much. Who said having a baby would be fun and a great experience?

Jill stood in front of the mirror in their bedroom, shirt pulled up over her belly. Her fingers trailed along the stretch marks on it, pulling a face as she came to realize once more how huge she had gotten.

“Everything okay?”, a voice came from the door. Chris was leaning against the doorframe, his eyes fixed on his girl. Jill shrugged and looked back to the mirror, seemingly in another world. “Jill?”, Chris asked, but once more she didn’t give him an answer. He sighed and walked over, standing behind her.

“I don’t like this.”, she muttered as her hands moved further down to where most of her stretch marks were. “On the internet, they always write that stretch marks make you feel like a tiger. Right now I feel like an overweight household cat.”

Chris had to chuckle at her words, but tried his best to help her. In his eyes, she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, and nothing and no one could stop him from treating her like the goddess that she is. “Oh Jill, my Jill…”, Chris said, placing his hands a bit lower than hers. Under his rough fingers he was able to feel the faint marks, left by their baby growing inside of her.

“Just say that I look like a walrus so we can get over this.”, Jill pulled a face while saying those words, and Chris was shocked. A walrus? Not even in a million years she’d look like a walrus! Hell no, she was looking like the woman he loves!

“You are talking bullshit right now, my Love.”, Chris shook his head, one hand now moving from her belly to her chest, placing it right above where her heart is. “You are still breathtakingly beautiful. I love you and I will love you forever.”

“Will you even love me when I am old and gray?”

“As long as you won’t be a grandma like the Baker grandma - sure.”

“Oh, don’t remember me. You showed me the pictures, that was nasty!”, and a laughter spilled from her lips - mission accomplished! Chris moved his hands from her belly to her chest, placing them on the side of her boobs.

“Do they still hurt?”, Chris lovingly asked, his fingers stroking against the soft flesh of her breasts - much to his dislike still covered. Jill nodded as a blush crept upon her cheeks. This didn’t go unnoticed by Chris, who was still watching her expressions in the mirror. “Jill? Do you wanna tell me something?”

Jill’s blush only worsened as she looked down on herself once more and she placed her hands on Chris’. “I think my milk came in a few days ago, and ever since they hurt like bitches. I don’t know what to do.”, she confessed with a heavy sigh, then cupped one of her breasts. “I miss my small ones!”

The mere thought of helping his lady with hurting boobs got Chris all different kinds of excited, and he pointed to their bed. “Sit down. I have an idea.” And Chris never had a bad idea! Okay, at least most of the time his ideas weren’t that bad…

While Jill sat down, Chris headed to the bathroom to grab some towels. Confusion was written across her face when Chris walked in, grin so big it’d reach around his head if he didn’t have ears, towels in his hands. “Uhm...Should I be worried now?”

“Absolutely not! My girlie is in pain and I cannot let this happen!”, he smirked and sat down behind Jill, her situated between his legs. “There we go…”, Chris muttered as he placed the towels on her thighs, and Jill...let him do his thing. She stopped questioning him a long time ago. Especially since he tried to upgrade their lawnmower and accidentally set their garage on fire. That’s why she loved him so much.

“Take off your shirt and your bra!”, Chris ordered Jill while rubbing his hands together, a big grin on his lips. The mere thought of boobs made even a grown man smile like it’s Christmas morning. Jill shrugged and did as she was told, freeing her upper body from any clothing - but not without whimpering at the full and tender feeling of her tits. “You know I could eat you up whole like this?”

Jill laughed and leaned against Chris’ chest, relaxing the second she felt him. Chris’ hands wandered up and down on her upper body, feeling the soft curves she had developed over the past few months. The swell of her belly, the tenderness of her breasts. “Do you trust me Jill?” “I let you knock me up, isn’t that answer enough?” Chris laughed as he pressed a kiss on her shoulder, she could feel his smile against her skin. She wasn’t wrong.

“Okay okay. If it hurts, I can always stop. Just say it.”, Chris reassured Jill as his hands moved from her belly to her breasts. While they were talking, Chris had moved the towels on her thighs. Jill nodded and closed her eyes, showing Chris her full trust over her body.

Chris hummed as he started to press around on Jill’s breasts. They felt sore and tender under his touch too, and he didn’t want to imagine the pain she was feeling thanks to them. But something she hadn’t told him - the pain caused a certain level of excitement too. Jill let out a groan, her expression from relaxed to pained in mere seconds. But Chris didn’t stop just now. She hadn’t said the word. “Don’t worry, my love. I know what I am doing.” “Do you? That’s news to me.” “Aw, come on.”, Jill and Chris both had to laugh, and Jill turned her head, pressing a kiss on his cheek.

Chris’ big hands continue to massage Jill’s tits, feeling her up and relieving pressure, just waiting for the big moment. “What the fuck”, Jill muttered as she felt the pressure going down, but also...wetness? A few drops of milk were dribbling down her breasts, making their way down. Chris quickly grabbed one of the towels, wiping her clean. “You feeling better?”, and as reply came a breathy ‘more’. It was embarrassing how much this turned her on.

Jill closed her eyes again, letting all the feelings just happen. In the end, it was helping her, and why should she bite the hand that feeds her? Chris’ hands felt so good on her, pressing out more of the milk produced by her. By now, the few drops had increased to a steady flow down her breasts, a spray happening when Chris hit a sweet spot. Soft moans fell from her lips as she became putty in his hands. When Chris stopped for a moment, Jill wanted to complain but was greeted with a wet finger on her lips. “Try it?”, Chris suggested. Jill was hesitant at first, but after a few seconds, she wrapped her lips around his finger, feeling the sweet milk on her tongue. She hummed while cleaning Chris’ finger, every last drop was savoured by her. And she swore she could feel him twitching against her back. 

“Now that was hotter than I previously anticipated.”, Chris muttered against Jill’s shoulder, a giggling came from her side. “You are the one who is having a field day with my boobs right now!”, she threw in, gently slapping his thigh. Chris shrugged and made another squeeze, and this time Jill couldn’t hold her moans in.

“Ah? Moaning already?”, Chris smirked, pinching her wet nipples, making her flinch - but not in a bad way. Without thinking too much about it, Jill grabbed hold of Chris’ wrist, moving it down to her pussy. To Chris’ surprise, she was more soaked than the towels he had prepared. But he wasn’t complaining. Not at all. The sweatpants Jill had started to wear once her jeans became too tight were wetter than anything she had ever felt before, and the lust boiling inside of her core, ready to spill over.

Jill sat up straighter, gently rocking her hips against Chris’ hand as he continued to milk her dry with his other one. He knew her body better than his own even with all the changes and new curves to explore. Chris knew what drove Jill wild, and a simple fingerfucking often opened the door for a night of pleasure. “Come on Jill, be a good girl and spread ya legs for me.”, Chris muttered into her ear, a kiss behind it followed. Jill, who was already needy and desperate for more, spread her legs as far as she could, giving Chris access to what was his.

His fingers moved through her folds, savouring the wetness and the feeling of how she bucked her hips towards his touch. “Ah ah, stay calm Jill. We have the whole day.”, Chris teased her, earning a disappointed groan from her side. Every stretch mark, every little insecurity was long forgotten the moment Chris dipped two of his fingers inside of her, drawing a soft moan from her lips. “Fuck, Chris!”, Jill whimpered out as her grip on his thighs increased, surely would leave marks afterwards.

Chris moved his fingers in and out of her for a short while, the wet sounds echoing off the walls as she became a waterfall under his touch. Soon enough he changed his movement. Instead of in and out, Chris moved his fingers in a motion as if he was telling her to come here. But instead of coming here, she was close to coming around his fingers. The soft spasm around his fingers made his own hard cock twitch.

Jill groaned in disappointment when Chris removed his fingers from her pussy, having been so close to a surely mind breaking orgasm. But Chris gave her no time to complain. With a few quick movements, he got rid of his clothes, his hard cock leaking precum already. Jill licked her lips at the sight, but there was no time for any of this. She needed him inside of her - now!

“Come here”, Chris said as he grabbed Jill’s hips, pulling her close to him. She moved herself up a bit, just right in position for Chris’s cock to brush against her folds, earning a low groan from him. “Shit…”, he muttered as he grabbed hold of his cock, dragging it along her wetness, just enough to lube himself up - and there was more than enough of it.

“You ready?”, Chris asked, Jill nodding in reply. With a nearly painfully slow movement, Chris pushed inside her pussy, both of them moaning in relief. To their surprise, Jill’s tits started leaking again. “Wow.”, was everything Chris managed in this moment to get out. Jill started to move her hips, sinking down further on his cock, needing more of him.

Soon enough, the room was filled with soft moans and groans, Chris’ hands wandering over her body for he couldn’t contain himself. Her breasts, her hips, her pussy, everything was delicious and if he could, he’d eat her up. But instead of doing this, he focused on her pleasure to make her fall apart. Every brush over her clit made Jill’s whole body shake, squeezing her eyes shut as she came closer and closer to her orgasm.

“Chris, I...I’m gonna cum!”, Jill whimpered out as she leaned against Chris’ chest, him pounding into her from under her. She held onto her breasts, squeezing more of her milk out as the knot inside of her tightened, ready to burst at any moment. “Cum for me. Cum for me Jill.”, Chris groaned out and focused on her clit even more.

This was enough for her to explode in an orgasm like never before. Jill stilled on top of Chris, her whole body shaking as she came. Chris followed suit, his own orgasm approaching only seconds later. While he painted her walls white, Jill milked his cock how he milked her before.

The wet sounds soon came to an ending as Chris’ cock slipped out of Jill’s pussy, leaving the sweetest mess behind. Jill groaned and got off Chris’ lap, dropping on the bed next to him. “Nobody told me having sex while pregnant would be that exhausting!”, Jill chuckled, wiping the sweat off of her forehead. Chris grabbed one of the towels they had previously used, cleaning her pussy from any cum left behind.

After throwing the towel into the washing machine, Chris found Jill deep asleep in their bedroom. He smiled at the sight, tucked her in. “I love you, Jill.”, he whispered, earning a soft sound from her. A soft kiss on her forehead followed, and he knew she was the most perfect woman in the whole wide world.

[cheri-translates]

[CN] Idle Chat with Shaw

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for a feature which has not been released in English servers! 🍒

The CN server was recently graced with a new feature called 随便聊聊 (“Idle Chat”), where you can select a mood and talk to the love interests about work, life, and studies :>

Idle Chat with: Gavin / Kiro / Lucien / Victor

[ WORK - Topic 1: Overtime ]

1. Mood: Happy

MC: I don’t have to work overtime today! No overtime! I really don’t-- have-- overtime!

Shaw: I can sense your noisiness from your words.

Shaw: Since you want to kick up a racket

Shaw: Come watch our performance. You can scream and shout all you want.

-

2. Mood: Upset

MC: I read a news article today which said that the more one does overtime work, the more efficiency goes down. I think what it says makes sense...

Shaw: It’s supposed to

Shaw: You’re not a robot

Shaw: Why are you always making yourself live like clockwork?

-

3. Mood: Angry

MC: I have to work overtime again and again. Why are there so many things to do every day? My life has already taken the shape of overtime!!

Shaw: Mm, this is your ninth day of overtime this month

Shaw: It’s really quite a lot

Shaw: What time are you busy until? I’ll see if I’d be near your office at that time.

-

[ WORK - Topic 2: Income ]

1. Mood: Happy

MC: I finally got my pay! My shopping cart can finally be tidied up. I plan to get ALL colours of the spray paint you mentioned the last time.

Shaw: ...are you usually such a squanderer? 

Shaw: I think you should get two basic colours to practise your skills

Shaw: When it comes to graffiti, it’s not as if the more gaudy the colours are, the better it looks.

-

2. Mood: Upset

MC: The case I’ve been handling recently started off with an interesting concept. After changing it, it seems to have sunk into mediocrity. I feel perplexed.

Shaw: What’s there to feel perplexed about

Shaw: Haven’t you already found the answer

Shaw: Since you know it’s mediocre, don’t be satisfied with mediocrity. 

-

3. Mood: Angry

MC: There was something I really wanted to buy, so I waited till my payday to reserve it. In the end, it has a higher price now!!

Shaw: If it’s something I really want

Shaw: I’ll buy it directly

Shaw: The more you delay, the further it’d go from you.

-

[ WORK - Topic 3: Program Progress ]

1. Mood: Happy

MC: My colleagues and I completed an incredibly perfect proposal! Everything will be fine once it gets approved!

Shaw: No wonder you’ve been telling me that you’re busy these days when I ask you out to have fun

Shaw: I’ll let you rest at home these two days

Shaw: Your time after that has been reserved by me.

-

2. Mood: Upset

MC: Every time it’s the end of the month, I’d start counting down to payday. Or else I’ll have no motivation to work at all...

Shaw: It’s so boring to countdown to payday,

Shaw: Countdown to something else

Shaw: For example, that there are only three more hours till you get to see me. 

-

3. Mood: Angry

MC: I suspect the other party is doing this on purpose. The program is almost about to be approved and now it got delayed by half a month! I’m never working with that company again!

Shaw: Since there’s still half a month

Shaw: Why spend half a month angry

Shaw: Let’s go, I’ll take you to do something that’d not make you angry.

-

[ WORK - Topic 4: Program Results ]

1. Mood: Happy

MC: Didn’t expect that this program would be so uncomplicated! I even thought I’d have to work overtime over the weekend, but I no longer have to. I’ll come find you at Live House over the weekend!

Shaw: Not bad, your other party is finally behaving.

Shaw: But I won’t be around this weekend

Shaw: Find me in the library

-

2. Mood: Upset

MC: This program is finally over. I don’t have much of a desire to participate in the celebratory feast. I just feel that I’m finally free!

Shaw: Don’t celebrate that program

Shaw: Come join my band’s celebratory feast.

-

3. Mood: Angry

MC: I took out a 50 cent coin to “assassinate” the other party. The other party is not only fussy, but also dares to lag behind in payment!

Shaw: He’s already behind in payment

Shaw: And you’re still hounding him for 50 cents?

Shaw: biu--

Shaw: All right, I’ve “assassinated” him already.

[Note] “biu” is meant to represent the sound of a bullet flying by!

🦈

[ LIFE - Topic 1: Losing Weight ]

1. Mood: Happy

MC: The weight loss methods I collected were actually really useful. I’ve finally slimmed down by quite a lot! I can wear new clothes to the music festival now!

Shaw: You haven’t been drinking cola or milk tea recently

Shaw: Because of this?

Shaw: That outfit you prepared - even without losing weight, you’d still look pretty good in it.

-

2. Mood: Upset

MC: Why haven’t I slimmed down even after trying so many methods...

Shaw: Watching you change methods to lose weight is pretty interesting

Shaw: Feels like I can write a thesis based on Pi Li Pa La

[Note] “Pi Li Pa La” (噼里啪啦) is one of Shaw’s nicknames for MC

-

3. Mood: Angry

MC: I. Put. On. Weight. Again.

Shaw: All

Shaw: The

Shaw: Best

Shaw: In

Shaw: Losing

Shaw: Weight

-

[ LIFE - Topic 2: Meals ]

1. Mood: Happy

MC: Today, I discovered a small stall along the street! It’s very delicious!! I think you’ll also like the taste

Shaw: I haven’t even eaten it

Shaw: How do you know that it’s a taste I like?

Shaw: Arrange a timing, we’ll go together.

-

2. Mood: Upset

MC: I visited a hotpot stall which is famous on the internet. It ended up being pretty much the same as the stall I usually go to...

Shaw: These stalls are all the same

Shaw: Focused on sales, and don’t create new flavours

Shaw: Next time, I’ll take to a hotpot place - that one can be called delicious.

-

3. Mood: Angry

MC: I went for hotpot today. In the end, the chilli oil splattered onto my clothes... It was a new outfit I just bought - I’m so mad!

Shaw: ...

Shaw: Are you stupid? Next time, wear an apron when you eat.

Shaw: So how did the hotpot taste?

-

[ LIFE - Topic 3: Reading ]

1. Mood: Happy

MC: Yesterday, I chanced upon an especially good fiction book. I ended up being too engrossed in it, so it was daytime by the time I lifted my head...

Shaw: Sure.

Shaw: The “staying up late” champion goes to you

Shaw: I’ll be forced to take second place for a day.

-

2. Mood: Upset

MC: I recently read a fiction book. The author kept writing about eating, sleeping, and building a garden... And she could actually write over 2000 pages worth of such day-to-day accounts??

Shaw: ...

Shaw: I have a new understanding of how bored you can be.

-

3. Mood: Angry

MC: I just finished a book and am so angry that I’m turning uneasily on the bed!! The protagonist was in a piteous state from beginning to the end. In the end, the antagonist got away scot-free!

Shaw: Ah, I’ve read that book

Shaw: In the second book, the protagonist counterattacks

Shaw: ...does this count as spoiling the plot?

-

[ LIFE - Topic 4: Games ]

1. Mood: Happy

MC: Hahahaha! I defeated the boss in that wrestling game you mentioned. You won’t dare to look down on me now, right?

Shaw: ...

Shaw: You’ve already showed off on SNS, and now you’re specially sending me the news to show off again

Shaw: Looks like you really feel a sense of accomplishment.

Shaw: Fine, I’ll commend you.

-

2. Mood: Upset

MC: I haven’t been able to find any fun games recently... Feels like they keep following the same pattern. It makes me want to start playing old games that I’ve already completed...

Shaw: Since you can’t find any fun electronic games

Shaw: Why not come out and have fun with me? You can even train your body.

-

3. Mood: Angry

MC: When I played games today, I bumped into an annoying teammate. His standard was obviously average, but he kept blaming others for mistakes!

Shaw: Do you remember his ID?

Shaw: Send it over

Shaw: I’ll go meet him.

🦈

[ SCHOOL - Topic 1: Progress ]

1. Mood: Happy

MC: This time, I’ve given myself sufficient time to prepare! My study plan is also set. From this weekend onwards, I’ll be in the library with you.

Shaw: You really want to come with me?

Shaw: Would you be sleeping in the library like the last time?

-

2. Mood: Upset

MC: It’s not that I don’t want to study, but many things keep disrupting my studies. Actually, I really want to study...

Shaw: Just admit it

Shaw: You’re just not in the mood to study

Shaw: Want me to come over to help you change your mood into a studying one?

-

3. Mood: Angry

MC: Even after reading the analysis, I can’t understand what it’s saying at all. I can’t study any more. I really want to become a salted fish swimming around in the ocean...

Shaw: A friendly hint

Shaw: Salted fish are dried fish, so they can’t swim

Shaw: If you want things to turn for the better, you could ask me for help.

[Note] Shaw’s uses an idiom in the final line, “咸鱼翻身” ( “xian you fan shen”), which directly translates to “salted fish turning over”. It’s a metaphor for a person who experiences a reversal of fortunes!

-

[ SCHOOL - Topic 2: Homework ]

1. Mood: Happy

MC: I breezed past the questions today! And I kept an hour free to practice the skateboard. Didn’t you say you wanted to teach me a new move?

Shaw: One hour isn’t enough to teach a new move

Shaw: It’s easy to fall if you practice it too quickly

Shaw: First, go to the location and let me see the results of your previous practice

-

2. Mood: Upset

MC: I keep thinking that I’ve turned into an emotionless robot that goes through questions. I can’t find even a bit of passion in studying. Anyway, does studying even require passion...

Shaw: You’re asking me such questions? Seriously?

Shaw: My response is

Shaw: You don’t need it in studying, but you need it if you’re seeking knowledge.

-

3. Mood: Angry

MC: I can’t finish it... I already have many things to do in the morning, and still have to rush my homework at night. It’s not like I possess three heads and six arms!

Shaw: Even though you don’t possess three head and six arms

Shaw: If you add the both of us together, there’ll be two heads and four arms

Shaw: I won’t do your homework, but call me if you need anything else.

[Note] “Three has and six arms” is a direct translation from an idiom, 三头六臂 (“san you liu bi”). It refers to someone who possess superhuman abilities

-

[ SCHOOL - Topic 3: Pre-exam Revision ]

1. Mood: Happy

MC: I just did a self-test and feel like the examination questions aren’t that difficult. Didn’t expect that the method you taught me on how to have a productive revision would be so effective!

Shaw: Of course my method is useful

Shaw: How else could I make it into Loveland University?

Shaw: After your exam tomorrow, remember to call me.

-

2. Mood: Upset

MC: Does re-doing questions again count as revision... But no one can guarantee that these questions wouldn’t appear in the exam...

Shaw: It’s always better to do it than not to

Shaw: As the old saying goes, “Review the old and know the new”

Shaw: Start with the “review”.

-

3. Mood: Angry

MC: I think the teacher has something against me. He said he wouldn’t test the parts that I already revised! How could he do this!

Shaw: It means you don’t know how to identify the essentials. Learn this from me.

Shaw: I can always guess the examinable areas

Shaw: The Old Man even asked if I secretly peeked at his teaching materials.

-

[ SCHOOL - Topic 4: Post-exam celebration ]

1. Mood: Happy

MC: I’ve reached Live House. Where are you? Aren’t we celebrating how I’m finally free from the abyss of exams?

Shaw: Five minutes.

Shaw: I brought a cake

Shaw: Since it’s a celebration, it should be more official.

-

2. Mood: Upset

MC: The exam is over. I’m free. As for the results, I’m not going to think about it. I actually feel a little empty...

Shaw: ...who was the one who wanted my help in comparing answers before the exam?

Shaw: You dared to waste my time, so wait for my punishment. 

-

3. Mood: Angry

MC: I compared answers with someone. I felt a chill. The important thing is that I wrote the correct answer for that final question. But my fingers itched and I changed it to the wrong answer ahhh!

Shaw: Since you’re wrong, why continue thinking about it?

Shaw: Let’s go

Shaw: I’ll take you to a place where you can let off steam.

[serifsans]

Vladimir’s bulk is warm and comfortable in a way nothing else is. It’d probably be downright luxurious to curl up on his lap in his true form but if there’s anything Jean-Paul hates, it’s letting their boyfriend (boyfriend, he calls him, as if either of them aren’t anything but too damn old, as if they don’t think of him as their husband, even if they dare not say it lest that change something and ruin everything.) see them when they aren’t wearing human form. It’s embarrassing, like being caught wearing bell-bottoms before they cycle back into fashion. They’ll let Vladimir see them now when they’re skulking around wearing ratty bathrobes so old they’re now antiques but JP draws the line as letting him see that silly pink dog.

(Also, they figure that if the regulators ever decide to mind-wipe him, it’s probably better if he has less memories of an obviously alien form. Maybe it won’t completely fry his brain then. JP’s terrified of that. Of course, JP also knows that if they ever came for him, Vladimir’s taking as many regulators as possible with him before they could even get to his head. They’re terrified of that just as much.)

They see each other so infrequently anyway that there’s no point wasting it looking like anything but a dream: that is, if your idea of a dream is undersized, middle-aged, and dressed entirely in designer brands. Vladimir’s is, which is part of the reason they like him so much. Their volph form is not a dream. It’s silly and little and adorable when it’s not glitching and lagging. JP will take adorable but the silly part, no.

Jean-Paul has his shop and his commissions and a whole part of his life he doesn’t want to drag Vladimir into any more than he already has. Vladimir’s got his work and his family and a whole part of his life he doesn’t want to drag Jean-Paul (or Polly Jean or whatever other name they cycle though) into any more than he already has. They both have businesses that keep them very busy and also side-pieces that also keep them very busy, mostly because neither of them really like to address their emotions and mostly deal with them by throwing themselves at whatever distraction they can find. Always, always, there’s the looming threat that this cannot last, that it’ll end poorly, that they should just end this, but whenever they break up, they can’t stay apart too long until the fear comes for one of them again.

Anyway, the point? Jean-Paul’s living like a fucking king over there because he gets to wallow all over this man. Anyone who doesn’t get to cuddle him is missing out on one of the finer joys of life.

“Paulie, my sweet one, maybe you would like it more if you moved a little, yeah? Just a little. I love you as I love no other, you are my starshine, my heart, but your ass, it’s bony. My legs can only take so much. I am sorry, my love.”

Oh, okay, the man he loves is just cruelly abandoning him like a complete and utter monster. That’s how it is. Being JP is so hard. They make a big show of looking extremely sad as they scoot off his lap and curl up against his side instead, sighing extremely, extremely over-dramatically. Vladimir pets his hair and gives him a little kiss to make up for kicking him off of his lap. JP sighs even more sadly and when that doesn’t elicit the desired response, sighs even louder so Vladimir kisses him again.

Their ass isn’t that bony.

“I guess I might find it within my heart to forgive you for this cruel and utterly cutting insult,” they say. “But only because I am an extremely kind person. The best. I’m completely saintly, darling. That’s the truth of it.”

Vladimir chuckles, a low rumble.

“They will write poems to your kindness and generosity. They will not say that you called what’s-her-name horrible things for hours only because she did not say hello to you while walking down the street. I still think she did not see you. If she knew what you said, she would never talk to you agains even if she did see you.”

JP huffs.

“First of all, it was not for hours. Second of all, I was only being truthful. Third of all, she did it on purpose; don’t argue otherwise. Fourthly, she can snub me all she wants, I really do not give a fuck, the joke’s on her, I made out with her dear old dad in the 70s and he liked it, so hah. I hope no one shows up at her fucking garden party. I hope she gets kicked out of the country club. I hope she buys a pony and it doesn’t love her.”

“Okay, Paulie, you tart,” says Vladimir, laughter still in his voice. “You were very busy in the 70s. You must have never rested.”

“You know it.”

Maybe being kicked off Vladimir’s lap isn’t so bad. It means they can nestle up against him and rest their head on his stomach. He likes to run his fingers through their hair, especially since they decided to start wearing it long in this body. Anyone else doing it makes him feel like anxious lapdog with no control over who does and doesn’t pet him (or pull his tail or mess with his ears or poke him) but Vladimir does it and he feels like a person instead. He closes his eyes and though he never naps, JP really feels so comfortable right now he could doze off. Bears are fantastic. The world needs more of them. Actually, it needs more of them and it needs this one to last forever.

“Mm, completely unrelated to exploits of the past, but I made an account on a website. Thought you should know. Transparency. Communication. That sort of thing. It’s fun.”

God, they’re comfy. This is amazing. Their life really is so blessed. Thank you, universe.

“Paulie,” his boyfriend says with gentle exasperation in his voice. “You join these websites, you find someone that maybe you do not like, you say things that you know to be hurtful, the websites say that you cannot go to them anymore. You can’t keep doing this. There is a reason that I run the boutique’s social media and you, you, my heart, are allowed nowhere near. You are very spiteful and very rude. I know this and I love you.”

JP really can’t argue against this one because they’re running out of websites to be banned from. Even still, they roll their eyes and huff because how dare Vladimir call them out like this.

“Ugh, fine, I’ll behave. I’m really trying to be nicer, you know. It’s all so goddamn weird that I wouldn’t even understand how to insult these people if I tried, anyway. I don’t fucking get memes, darling. It’s all a bunch of bullshit people pretend is funny. It doesn’t make sense.”

“I am sorry you do not understand the Internet. It is a strange place. I will send you Russian memes instead and then maybe you will understand,” Vladimir says. “If you do not like the site, then maybe consider not being on it.”

“I didn’t say that. I just said that it doesn’t make sense. Darling, you know I really do think people should cater to my exact sense of taste at all times but even though they don’t, I still very graciously put up with it,” JP says. “It’s a website for fellow space fans. They’re all bound to be weird."

Vladimir’s hand in his hair stills.

“I do not need to know the details of what you say on your websites, I think maybe I do not even need to know what they are called, but be mindful of what you post. You do not know who could be reading. Do not mention me on it ever, please.  Be careful.”

The ever-present anxiety starts making itself known. It’s not that Vladimir himself makes them anxious because he’s a giant softie underneath the leather and gruff exterior and the fact that he will commit murder in an instant if it means protecting his loved ones. It’s just that sometimes JP very suddenly remembers how much they absolutely have to protect him at all costs and what it will be like to lose him if they can’t devise a way to keep him around forever.

“I’m sorry, Vladimir. I should’ve said something before I made an account. I’ll delete it. I just...you told me I can’t keep running away from others like me. Well, I can’t deal with them in real life. I just can’t. It’s just a website, I didn’t think things through, I don’t want to compromise your safety, I can-”

“Ah, ah, no, I am sorry, I think maybe I said things too harshly, do not worry, my darling. I trust you. Please, maybe it will be a good thing for you and then you will understand their memes. I only want you to be happy and safe. Just be careful, okay? And do not start fights with people.”

JP whines and buries their face against him.

“I really can delete it. I, I don’t always think things through. I wasn’t made for thinking.”

Vladimir decides the best course of action is to pull them back into his lap in hopes it’ll calm the anxious volph, except JP can’t even properly enjoy it because their brain (if they even have a brain because they honestly do not know.) goes from zero to one hundred in half a second and now they’re thinking about everything bad that could possibly happen because they joined a website for aliens.

“Hey, it’s okay, okay? Have fun on your alien dating site. Maybe you will sleep with a Nessie and it will change your life. Do not worry about me. Just be careful with yourself, okay? You do not protect that person enough.”

That’s enough for JP to momentarily break through the anxiety.

“It’s a blogging website, not a hookup website."

“Okay.”

...

“Paulie? Is the Loch Ness Monster real? Do you know her?”

“Darling, you know I never kiss and tell.”

“Is she real?”

“Fuck if I know but I’m certainly not swimming all the way over there to find out.”

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #405

“today i went to therapy, told him the embarrassing issues that i’m having with my life  /  he told me that i need to change; life is not a video game, so stop playing & open up your eyes”

What was your favourite sweet as a child? Things like Baby Bottle Pops, Ring Pops, Airheads, etc. Do you like to wear socks to bed? NOOOOOOO. I don't wear socks unless I have to. What’s your favourite berry? Strawberries. If you have a job, how long is your shift? I don't. Do you like sunflowers? Well yeah. Are you counting down for anything? No. Are you watching TV? What’s on? No. Do you have make-up on? No. I haven't worn makeup since last October. Are you any good with kids? People have told me I am, but I beg to differ. What if you had a baby with the last person you kissed? We're both cisgender women, we physically couldn't. Do you think you’ll be married in 5 years time? It'd be nice honestly, but I kinda doubt I will be. What is your favorite card game? Magic: The Gathering. What is the weirdest thing you’ve done in public? Ha, probably the times I've gotten down on the ground beside the road to photograph roadkill... More than once has someone stopped and asked if I was okay, haha. Favorite sleeping position? Twisted half on my side and stomach with my legs just sorta splayed out. What is your dad’s name? Ken. Have you ever been on a diet? Multiple times. Do you own any jersey shirts? No. Are you proud to be of the nationality you are? There are two moods I have on this: I'm either neutral or embarrassed. Can you remember what you last clapped for? Omg the woman who facilitates my TMS treatment was telling Mom and me about this one time a tiny snake got in the lobby and I did a lil squeal and clapped a bit because I was just excited to hear about a little snake, haha. What is the geekiest part of your music collection? *shrug* Maybe game soundtrack music. What do you eat when you raid the fridge late at night? Well, not really the fridge, but w/e. I'll usually get a granola bar or something of the sort. What is the little physical habit that gives away you're insecure moment? Kneading/wringing my hands together is a dead giveaway. Do you have too many love interests? No. How much money would it take to get you to give up the Internet for one year? If you want honesty... probably no amount would lmao. I rely way too heavily on the Internet for so many things. Do you talk a lot? It depends on my mood and who I'm around. Do transient, homeless, or starving people sometimes annoy you? What a fucking awful question. They don't annoy me. It can be awkward driving past them, but they're in no way annoying. Do you consider yourself to be a nice person? I definitely try to be. What is your ideal marriage location? Either a gothic-looking mansion or something of the sort or a wooded area in the fall. Do you tell your friends about your sex life? I don't have one to talk about. Would you ever admit to having done plastic surgery of any kind if confronted? Yeah? No shame. What kind of watch(es) do you wear? I don't wear watches. What do you cook the best? My family likes my scrambled cheesy eggs... basic as that is, haha. When my sisters would go to Taco Bell all the time and save the hot sauces for later use, I would use some packets in the eggs I cooked. Honestly amazing. What's one car you will never buy? "Anything that is two door, or low to the ground." <<<< This right here. On the other end of the spectrum, I also won't ever buy a car that's high up. I need a good medium so I can actually get in with ease. What's one thing you're a sore loser at? Hm, I dunno. What kind of first impression do you think you give to people? "Wow, she's awkward." What's one thing you like to do alone? Draw. When's the last time you cried? Not long ago at all because I was just so exasperated over my weight gain. Do you think you're cute? God no. Do you have problems changing clothes in front of friends? I don't change in front of anyone if I can avoid it. Did you like kissing the last person you kissed or the one before that more? The last person. I gotta say I was not a fan of kissing Girt because for whatever reason his lips were ALWAYS wetter than lips naturally should be and I just didn't dig it, man. That and every kiss with him was awkward. Whose bed other than yours did you last lay on? My mom's. What turns you off immediately? Acting sexist, to name one. Which city do you particularly enjoy visiting and for what reasons? I don't like going into cities. Do you often take pictures with the camera on your phone? No. I don't like the camera on my phone. In the past year, have you lost weight or gained weight? How much? Gained. You don't need to know. What year was the last car you rode in/drove? I have zero clue. What’s your worst/funniest experience with one of your neighbors? "Worst" and "funniest" are very different... but I can tell you the worst easily. At my childhood home, our next-door neighbors had a pair of Rottweilers in their back yard within a chain-link fence, and we had a LOT of outdoor cats at the time. (I will emphasize every time I bring it up to NOT keep cats outside.) Somehow the dogs got loose and went on a rampage trying to kill our cats; one young one was killed, while our fearless mother cat, Chance, literally fought them off to defend her new kittens. More were maybe killed, I honestly can't remember. My mom was hysterical and threatened to call animal control if it ever happened again. I was absolutely, utterly heartbroken. The last time you burned your tongue or mouth, what were you eating? Ummm I want to say it was some sort of pasta that I didn't let cool long enough. Honestly, are you shallow? Far from it, honestly. Can/could your parents tell when you were lying? Not always. Besides clothes, shoes, and accessories, what’s your favorite thing to shop for? I love window-shopping at Morph Market, haha. AAAAAAAAAALL those ball python morphs, man... *drools* Does/did your parents ever go through your computer or cell phone? When I was younger, Mom was very intent on figuring out why I was always so secretive about what I did on the computer (mostly RP-related things) that ohhhh yeah, she'd do some digging. The night she finally snapped, demanding I tell her my passwords to everything, and she ultimately found out about me being a forum RPer, was literally almost traumatic to me, I think. I know, that sounds INCREDIBLY overdramatic, but I'm not fucking joking. I was in my room SOBBING on my best friend's shoulder, who was spending the night. I was just so embarrassed, and I *still* am when I share that fact with people I know, even though I have no reason to be. Like I don't do any weird or kinky RP shit, it's just genuine, artistic writing with actual, well thought-out plots, but I still feel like people would think it dumb, childish, and just weird. What song reminds you the most of a particular day in your life? Why is that? "Stairway to Heaven" by Led Zeppelin. I've talked about it a few times before and really don't feel like doing it again. Do you have any close friends that were adopted? I don't think so. Who, in your opinion, is the best thriller writer? I don't know. Does your mom eat meat? Yeah. Was your dad ever on a sports team? Lots in high school, I believe. Do you prefer thick or thin crusted pizza? Thick, by a long shot. What do you have in your fruit salads? Not a fan of fruit salads. Have you ever spent more than two weeks in a wheelchair? I've only needed a wheelchair once in my life, and that was just to get inside and maneuver around the doctor's office when I tore a ligament in my foot. So no. What are your favorite word? Serendipity, tranquility, lucid, etc.; pretty, peaceful words like those. Is there a lot of drama in your life? Nope. I don't do enough or have enough people in my life for there to be. What are you listening to? An extended version of "Nightsong" from WoW. Do you hear any animals right now? No. I'm sure I'd hear birds if I didn't have my earplugs in, though. Have you ever played fetch with a dog? Yes. Have you ever pet a stingray? No. Who is the last baby you held? Emerson, my youngest niece. Do you have any scars from an animal? Yeah; I've got looooots from my cat playing too rough. Have you ever seen an Igloo? I don't believe so. Do you like Korn? They're high on my list of faves. Are you more afraid of tornadoes or hurricanes? Absolutely tornadoes. Do you like mushrooms? Ugh, NO. Have you ever been on Omegle? No. So do you have a favorite M&M? Just the regular ones. Have you ever snuck out? No. Do you currently feel like you have pretty stable career goals/a pretty stable life plan? Have you ever felt this way? I don't know, man. I know what I WANT to do, I just don't know if I'm ever going to get there. Or if what I want will be financially supportive enough, now that I'm really losing interest in photographing people. I might just have to if I want to be financially stable with photography, which would be okay, but bleh. I'd much rather just work with nature. If you could buy an android that was was convincingly human and could be tailored to be your perfect partner, would you want one? No. I don't want to build my own partner, nor do I want my romantic partner to be an android. I want life to just introduce me to a person who is uniquely themselves, who have built themselves from their own life experiences, and not just have a perfect spouse tailored to everything I like. If you do not identify as being “straight,” can you remember back to your childhood some things you did that were, in hindsight, possible indicators of your future sexuality? Yes, especially in middle school. I thought women were prettier than probably a straight kid would, and looking back, I definitely found the natural curves of the female figure to be attractive. When you consume media (movies, books, etc.) with a romantic element, what sort of romance scenarios interest you most? Hm. I know I prefer serious ones over silly; like I'm a sucker for Nicholas Sparks' style, if that says anything. If you are female, do you feel connected to other women as a class? What sort of things make you feel a strong sense of sisterhood or female empowerment? This is too big of a question for me to feel like delving into right now, haha. But I can say it more so depends on the individual than the gender when it comes to feeling connection over anything.

[bakutae]

bnha headcanons #4

today’s menu:

bakugou katsuki with a dollop of shouto todoroki

scenario: 

where you try to cook dinner for him

prompt:

‘i love you, so much, but please stop trying to cook me dinner. you suck.’

bakugou katsuki

it wasn’t a special occasion but you wanted to cook, and you shall

who would go against that?

well, bakugou did

you two had been together for quite some time now and you even shared an apartment together

there were times where you felt... well, experimental in the kitchen and wanted bakugou to come home to warm, delicious home cooked dinner after a long day 

calling your cooking skills bad was an understatement 

it was absolutely horrendous

you tried making curry once, instant curry, to be exact

how did you even mess up instant curry? it's literally just pouring water into it and stirring and adding your ingredients that you want in the curry

well, firstly, you added too little water and you boiled the curry for too long, causing most of the water content to evaporate and more paste like from the curry powder

you didn't mix the curry while it was boiling- it wasn't in the instructions though! how were you supposed to know that? and adding on the fact that most of the water content evaporated, you ended up with burnt curry

i mean hey, more char is added into your dish which makes it more flavorful..right?

bakugou came home to the smell of burning and at first he thought a fire was occurring somewhere and him being a top hero and all, was obviously on high alert in case anyone needed help

but when he took a closer sniff, he realised that it was coming from the kitchen

he peeked inside the kitchen and saw you trying to scrape the burnt curry off the saucepan, mumbling to yourself on how stupid you were for not using a non stick pan instead

he then shifted his glance to the plate next to the dishwasher and squinted

the curry looked..burnt and lumpy and it didn't look like it was edible

but bakugou didn't think much of it, how bad could it be?

it wasn't long before he wrapped his arms around your hips and snuggled his face into your neck, sighing in content, causing you to squeal from his hot breath on your neck

and well, long story short, it didn't taste nice, and ended up having pizza delivered for dinner, asking the delivery man to throw out the saucepan that could not be revived

of course you tipped the delivery man, it would be rude not to

this time, you wanted to go for something more ambitious; filet mignon

you couldn't help it, you were doing some grocery shopping and just so happened to drop by the meat section and saw a huge thirty percent discount on the meat

it was calling out to you, dancing on the shelves, waiting for you to pick them up

or at least that's what you told bakugou

bakugou rolled his eyes as he tried to take over the kitchen

he was a fantastic cook, actually and he didn't want to see the poor beef be served in such a pitiful way

however, you shoved him out from the kitchen telling him that everything will be alright and told him to go talk to kirishima or something if he was bored

you first added salt and pepper to both sides of the meat, carefully massaging it into the meat to make sure the the salt and pepper really make the meat flavourful and that your massaging would make the meat even more tender

you then tossed the meat into a saucepan, a new one this time since your old one got uh destroyed

you waited for a few minutes before flipping it over; or trying to flip it over

you had done it again

the meat was firmly stuck to the bottom of the saucepan as you panicked

the heat was still on and you didn't want to burn that side so you quickly turned off the heat and tried to quickly move the saucepan to a flat, cooler surface

the saucepan handle was metal, and since the saucepan was already quite hot, you held it without thinking and pain shot through your hand as you quickly let go of the saucepan, your beef falling on the floor, half cooked and probably burnt on the other side

bakugou heard the ruckus and came flying to you, worried that you got yourself injured in the process

he certainly didn’t expect the sight that he saw

you, with a shocked look on your face, hair all messed up and sticking to your neck from sweat

the meat, on the floor, contaminated with all sorts of germs, visibly stuck to the saucepan since the saucepan was tilted in a ninety degrees

he burst out laughing

'oh my god- pfft y/n, oh y/n darling, i love you, so much, but please stop trying to cook me dinner. you suck'

you pouted and your fingers went to nip at the corner of your top as you tried to defend yourself

'i forgot to butter the pan suki, maybe we should just get a non-stick pan and everything will be okay'

bakugou helped you with cleaning up

needless to say, you ended up another night with pizza delivered and once again, asking the delivery man, once again to help throw out the saucepan with the meat still stuck on it

shouto todoroki

it was your anniversary today and shouto wanted to prepare something special for the day

he knew how much you absolutely loved food, so he decided to make you a homemade meal for dinner

this guy actually took months to come up with the dishes that he was making

in his mind, he was envisioning a romantic candlelit dinner, with homemade aglio e olio and a side of mashed potatoes

shouto had no experience in cooking at all, he had never even held a kitchen knife in his entire life, except when thieves are threatening him with knifes and he coolly freezes them and slips the knife out of their hands, but that was it

he didn't think it'd be hard at all since he did some research on how to make aglio e olio and it did seem like one of the easier foods to make for beginners

it only needed the pasta noodles, garlic, salt and pepper, parsley and red pepper flakes- easy enough 

he already had the ingredients needed, all he needed to do was to get you out of the house, which was easy

he gave you a long list and requested you to get them at the grocery store that was quite far from your place

at first, you insisted that shouto go with you

you were aware that it was your anniversary and shouto seemed to have forgotten about it

even so, you wanted to spend time with shouto, but he was so insistent that you go alone that you left alone, starting to feel down as you slipped on your shoes ad left with a sigh

shouto heard it, and he felt so guilty for making you upset, but he had to get cooking

he hurriedly tried to boil the water and he waited for the water to boil 

when the water was boiling rapidly, he casually tossed the noodles in, watching as the noodles started to bend and sink deeper into the boiling water

he didn’t know how long to cook it for, and therefore decided to search it up on the internet

just then, he received a call from you

he picked up and you told him that the list was unclear and that the sprinkles in the supermarket had many types; striped ones, those in the shape of a heart and those rounded ones

he scratched his head as he wondered if he really did write down sprinkles; he had forgotten, as at that time he was just writing down anything that came to mind, focused on getting you out of the house

a smile crept onto his lips as he envisioned you staring at the packets of sprinkles in confusion and wondering which one to pick

‘shouto? why are you giggling?’

he snapped out of it and told you to buy whichever you liked best and then ended the call

his phone screen was on google, which the question ‘how long do i cook pasta for’ in the search tab

that was when he remembered what he was doing before you called

he slowly tore his eyes off the phone and peered inside the pot

great, at least it hasn’t been boiled into one lump of dough yet

he quickly turned off the heat and poured the water out, then took a strand and placed it into his mouth

it was melting in his mouth, the moment he placed it into his mouth, he could barely bite it before it was swallowable

it was far from al dente; and he still had to fry it in the pan with the other ingredients after this

he was at a lost, and decided to toss everything into the pan with some olive oil in it

the scent of garlic invaded shouto’s senses and he sighed, it smelt nice, at least

when he tried to stir the noodles, it started breaking and it looked a lot less appealing, but again, it smelt great

he absentmindedly stirred the noodles, waiting for the garlic to be cooked as it sizzled furiously in the pan

he then heard the sound of keys, followed by the sound of you opening the door

oh my gosh, you were back already? he was sure you’d take quite some time with the groceries since there was a lot of things to buy

he ran to the door to greet you, and saw you carrying at least four plastic bags on each arm and he ran to help you

‘y-y/n? why’re you home so quick?’

‘oh shouto, the grocery store is basically my second home, i know my way around’

he decided to tell you his plan, since it had already fell through

you grinned, so wide it almost scared shouto

‘i thought you forgot about our anniversary!’ 

you enveloped him in a warm embrace and press a quick kiss to his cheek and soon enough, a slightly smoky smell filled your noses

shouto suddenly pulled away and was running to the kitchen 

‘my pasta!’ 

you trailed behind him, seeing the mess in front of you 

the pasta at the ends were colored black as shouto tried to gingerly stir the pasta

the pasta at the bottom of the pan was burnt to a crisp

‘oh my gosh, shoutoo, i love you, so much, but please stop trying to cook me dinner. you suck.’

you gently stepped beside him, trying to assist him in cleaning up as he stood there, a blushing mess at the fact that you said that you loved him shouto todoroki is a shy as heck boyfriend oh man

taglist: @bnha-homeroom

[demivampirew]

Keep Calm and go to London chapter 17

Synopsis: This is the story of (y/n), a successful actress,  musician, musical producer and songwriter. After battling depression and  breaking up a long relationship, she seeks for a change of air,  escaping LA for a while going to visit some friends in London and there  she meets Henry. -Disclaimer: some chapters are mostly smut.

Previous Chapters:

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5 (smut)

Chapter 6

Chapter 7 (smut)

Chapter 8 (smut/roleplay)

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12 (smut)

Chapter 13

Chapter 14 (smut)

Chapter 15

Chapter 16 (smut/ s&m)

Triggers:   Crying; talking about depression, low self-steem and body image issues; talking about toxic relationships.

Tag list:  Here’s the incredible people who showed me support (thank  you    so  much for that) and people who asked me to tag them too  ☺️   (I    think  I will write a few chapters of this story, if you want me to  tag     you, tell me ☺️   ) @cavillanche @mary-ann84 @henry-owns-these-tatas @yespolkadotkitty @dancingwendigo   constip8merm8     penwieldingdreamer iloveyouyen  littlefreya  wondersofdreaming    alyxkbrl solariumss  sweetybuzz25 @thethirstyarchive @agniavateira   @honeyloverogers @hell1129-blog   @lunedelorient​  @michelle-1185​  

Henry was playing games while you played with Kal, making the little bear follow you around the house. It surprise you the amound of energy that the puppy had. While running, you got caught in the the door knob of one bedroom and ripped the t-shirt you were wearing, living a little hole in it. You cursed because that was one of your boyfriend's t-shirts. You were in trouble, for sure. You put your best sad kitty face and went to Henry to tell him about the t-shirt. He was sitting on the couch with his laptop and closed it after you sat next to him, pointing out that you have something to confess. He put his whole attention on you as you showed him his peace of clothing and apologized, assuring him that you'd tried to fix it. He looked at you with a cute smile and told you that was ok. He was not mad at you at all, "it's just a t-shirt" he said and gave you a kiss on the cheeks to make you feel better and proved to you that he wasn't angry at all. You hugged him and kissed him. He was the best. - I'm still sorry, though. I know you love this t-shirt.- you apologized once again. - It's kind of special.- he admitted. - Where did you bought it? I can replace it, I'll buy you the exact same one if I find it. - I didn't bought it; it was a gift. - From Charlie? Maybe I could send him a direct message in Instagram and ask him where he bought it. I will ask you his phone number, but we haven't officially met yet so he might find it weird if I text him. - No, it wasn't Charlie.- he answered and then took a deep breath before speaking again.- An ex-girlfriend gave it to me for a birthday. - Oh, I see.- you replied and went silent for a moment. - Was it Lucy? You questioned curiously. He raise an eyebrow and looked at you. - No, not her. - he said with a suspious tone. - Tara, Gina? -you asked again. -Sorry, I'm really curious - you said smiling - Tara. - he informed you - Wait, how do you know my exs's names? I never said her names to you? - he pointed out and you blushed of embarresment. "shit" you thought. - Have you been googling me by any chance? - I had to make sure you were not a serial killer - you joked, making an "ops" face. - I'm curious. I wanted to know how were the girls that you dated before me. - That's ok. I must admit that I googled you as well. - And what did you found out about me? - you were dying to know - That you have more money than me; that you're on the top 20 of Forbes lists of most influencial people; that people adore you on the internet. Basically, that you're ten times more amazing that I thought. Oh, I also found out that you have a college degree from Harvard. - Yep. While it cost me a lot. I practically did not sleep for like 5 years - you joked. It was kind of true, though. - Did you not expected you girlfriend to be the kind of person who goes to college? - I didn't imagine that giving all the work that you've done in your long career you'd had found to study for a degree. - he explained - I'm awesome - you said proudly - Giving my impressive career and my high grades in highschool, I was accepted at Harvard. I had to arrenge a few things to make the time, but I reached my goal. So, now you're in front of a Master of Arts and Doctor of Philosophy. - My baby is smart, damn! - he replied proudly. You gave him the brightest smile. - I found out that you were enganged once.- you continue the topic discused before. - Yes. It didn't work out, though. - Yes, I figured that out. Otherwise, it'd be an interesting situation the one that we're in right now. - Yes, it'd be for sure- he admited while laughing for your comment. - Do you missed them? - you questioned. He gave you a look, trying to see what you expected of him by those weird questions. - Come on, I know that you have a past. I have one too. I won't judge you. I just want to know how you feel about them. Do you still care for them? - Yes. - he admited.- But I don't do it in a romantic way. They were people important to me. Now they're part of my past, but I still want them to be happy. Sometimes I missed them a bit, more nostalgia for the good memories than anything, but I wouldn't go back with any of them, especially since I've met you. Now, I only have eyes for you. - he assured you, kissing your hand. - I understand.- you say smiling.- I still miss Jared sometimes. Like you said, I don't want to be with him at all and I only have eyes for you, but he was a great part of my life. He was the first man I've been with and, until you showed up in my life, he was the only one. - you confessed. You've talked before about having intimacy with few men, but never actually told him that was actually only one man before him. He looked at you surprise. - You are telling me that you only been intimate with two men and I'm one of them? -he asked you, speechless. - Yes. Before Jared I was afraid of being intimate with someone because I've always had body image issues. I didn't felt comfortable with my body and didn't want anybody to see me naked. When I started to date him, I wasn't ready to sleep with him and he respected that. He actually waited a whole year for me to finally be ready to have sex. I think that was another reason why even though it was clear he was not a good boyfriend, I stood with him. I always remembered that he promised to be patient and wait and not force me and he kept his word. After our first breakup, I was in that angry stage of "I hate all men", then soon enough I went to the "I don't hate men, but I don't have time to date either" I concentrated in study and work. Then, when I got back together with him, at first we'd had sex all the time, because despite the fact that I took care of my own pleasure during my time alone, I enjoyed to be intimate with another person that I cared about. But soon enough, things started to go South for us, and we barely had sex or was boring sex and I did most of the work. On one occasion, after a month of not doing it because he was working in his latest album, I put on a sexy lingerie and try to seduce him and he completely ignored me, like I wasn't even there. That broke me. By that point, I was already having body issues again, but that finally got to me and, until I met you, never again felt confident with my body or felt sexy. Knowing that a man like you was interested on me, made me feel great and then my confident side came back to me. - you explain, smiling at him. He kissed your hand again. - You know, I used to like him. I've met him twice and seemed like a nice guy. Now, I kind of want to punch him for hurting you. - He didn't do it un purpose, though. I know, so typical of me to deffend him, but that's true. I've known him for a long time. We were friends before and went through difficult times together until one day our friendship turned into something else. But now, I think those hard times we went through and that we've been surporting each other is the reason why he wanted to be with me. Why everytime we fought and I said that I was leaving he'd beg me to stay... because he knew that not matter what, he could count on me to be there for him. He clearly lost all the love and desire that he once felt for me, on the last period of our relationship I was just his support system; the one person he could count to help him when he need it. He's not a bad guy, but he was selfish. He concentrated on his needs and did not think on what I need it or what was the best for me. When I was diagnosed with major depression last year and was on those periods in which I would cry for entire days, for the first time in our entire relationship, he cancel a few plans to stay with me and hold me while I cried. But he didn't do it for love, no; he did it because he felt guilty. At that moment, he realized that he probably should have let me go, but he couldn't do that. As much as he'd love to have his single life back, he wanted me to be there for him, but he also knew that as soon as I walked out of the door, he would never see me again. So he kept me, unhappy and miserable until I finally realized myself from that toxic life I was living. - you finished and looked at your boyfriend's eyes. Henry was stroking your face and your hair. He looked worried and sad for hearing all you went through. - Your ex girlfriends were lucky. - you told him smiling - They had you. - I'm not perfect. I made mistakes as well, but I always try to look after their needs as well as mine. - That sounds like perfect to me. Perfection is not about not making mistakes, but recognize that you make them and try to correct them. Is not bad to look after your needs, we all need that, it's part of loving yourself, but, in a relationship, you have to care for your partner's needs as well. So yeah, you're the perfect boyfriend.- you assured him and he smiled. - I've seen photos of them and I must admit they're pretty, at least base on looks. The blonde one, Tara, if it wasn't weird, I'd totally high-five you for getting that chick. Even I must admit that she's hot. Although, I'm hotter than her.- you smile devilishly. - One houndred percent, baby. - he agreed. - They must have been really special to you. All of them. I saw the pictures. You'd take them with you to premieres and be by their sides, looking at them with proud. You'd post pictures or videos of them, and even if you're not longer together, you never deleted those things. That proved that they were special to you. I'm really jealous of them. - you admited - Not jealous because they were with you, like I said before, I know you have your past and that's ok, the important is that you're mine now. I'm jealous because I would have loved to be with someone that did those things for me. I'd had been great if my ex took me with him to an event or came with me to one of my premieres or award shows. Or took my hand in public. When I won my last two Oscars, he was there, but he didn't sat with me. I had to hug a friend to celebrate the fact that I won. You didn't get mad at them and ignored them for suggesting going out and getting caught by paparazzi. You would not tell them that you could spend time with them or have sex due to the lack of time and the hang out with your friends and former lovers instead. Why I could not have their luck once? Just once I'd love to know how it feels to be with someone who would proudly walk with me, go out with me or take me to places, happy to know that I'm by his side. Just one time I'd like to know who it feels not to be scared that your partner is going to be mad if someone for being seen together or acted as if he'd ashame and embarrased if people knew we're together, as if he could do so much better than you... just once I'd like to know how that feels. - you said and could not stop the tears. The tears covered your eyes and cheeks. The lump in your throat hurt badly. Henry grabbed your shoulders and pulled you closer, making you rest your head on his chest as he stroked your face and hair. He knew that you needed to let go of your tears in order to feel better. He promesed you would heal. He'd make sure that your future is bright and full of smiles instead of tears.

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Cry for Help

Colton and the Host, referenced in this piece, are OCs who belong to @shameless-whumper.

CW: Owen is a violent abuser, and in this update the violence comes out in a big way, both verbal and physical. Kauri is an abuse survivor with patterns of justification and affection. Features noncon touching, choking, violent abuse, referenced dubcon/noncon. Please be safe.

Tagging: @maybeawhumpblog, @pepperonyscience, @haro-whumps, @18-toe-beans, @burtlederp, @finder-of-rings, @giggly-evil-puppy, @whimpers-and-whumpers, @whump-it, @lumpofwhump, @pumpkinthefangirl​

“‘I hope Owen gets arrested, that sick fuck.’”

Owen reads the words out loud, pronouncing each syllable altogether too clearly, the glass of brown liquor in his hand holding Kauri’s frightened attention where he sits on the floor next to the coffee table, eyes carefully averted from the laptop’s screen.

The Host had put up a new video, featuring some story someone had written about Colton and Kauri and put up on the internet - and Kauri’s day had gone from secretly exciting to terrifying with unsettling speed.

He'd liked the video of the Host and Colton reading, actually - liked the way Colton had gotten into it a little in the middle. It felt almost like talking to him, or maybe just getting to see him talk to someone else.  He kind of wanted to hear the bits where they were kissing again, even if the ending was sad.

Kauri could overlook a sad ending, if there were parts in the middle where things were okay, and he got to kiss someone he actually wanted to kiss.

Not that he wanted to, um-

Kauri made himself stop thinking that way, worried Owen might notice his red face and ask oh, you like that fucking pet that much? And Kauri was a good liar, but not when he was caught off guard.

The thing was, Kauri had really liked the video - up until Colton got upset at the end, when Kauri couldn’t stop himself from fidgeting with the urge to somehow soothe someone from miles and miles away - but Owen hadn’t liked it. Not at all.

Normally he watched the videos at least three times the first day, but he'd only watched that video once. He'd muttered, he's my fucking property. I'm not the bad guy, here, you fucking hacks can't write for shit - how the fuck did they know about your weird bullshit with my Roomba? Shit, it has to be someone I know who wrote this.

Then he started drinking.

Owen is still drinking, hours later. He hasn't watched the YouTube video again. Instead, he's doing something far, far worse - reading the comments.

People had linked to other stories about them, too, sharing recommendations and favorites, and it seemed like all the writing made Owen furious.

All he would say about whatever he saw was like fuck you’d ever be that forward. Baking cookies… fucking nonsense. Besides, I’d never let him get anywhere near you.

Too late, Kauri kept thinking, again and again, trying not to betray a single thought with his expression. Inwardly he felt thrilled, defiant, like he was keeping the world’s biggest secret all to himself. Too late, he’s already gotten near me, too late, he is what I think my type was if my type was guys, I've been thinking about him when I'm with you, too late too late too late.

You don't know I can still feel the hug.

You don't know how many protocols I would violate.

Owen wouldn’t stop reading, and he wouldn’t stop drinking, and Kauri started to become afraid... especially when finishing one bottle turned into opening the second.

His defiant private thoughts turn slowly to silent pleading.

Please please please close the laptop. Please put the bottle away. Please stop being so angry.

But Owen just keeps reading, and drinking, and there's nothing to do but wait.

Now he’s wrapped in one of Owen’s soft blankets, wearing the cashmere sweater he’d worn to meet Karen Renford and fuzzy fleece-lined black pants. It's too warm for all those things but the bourbon in Owen’s glass keeps his blood running cold and if he lets the blanket fall, he starts to shiver.

“Kauri, listen to these fucking assholes. This lady used her actual name? How stupid can you be? Anyway, Michaela Tompson. ‘Poor kids. I used to like Owen Grant, but now I guess I will burn all merch.” Owen snorts, eyebrows furrowed in dark anger over his eyes.

Kauri watches the liquid slosh around in the glass, and feels the nearly-healed bruise on the side of his neck ache in what might be phantom pain, or maybe just getting ready for the future. He curls up a little tighter.

“Go ahead, Micaela, stop buying merch.” Owen spits the words at the woman who cannot hear him. “My money’s all in the fucking stock market now, you stupid bitch."

Next to him on the floor, Keira beeps four times, slow and soft, a question. Kauri reaches one hand out from the blanket to lay it on her warm plastic and metal exterior. She whirrs beneath his touch and he thinks it's like the feeling of a cat purring even though he doesn't know what that's like… does he?

He can’t take his eyes off the drink or the half-empty bottle on the table. Can't stop looking up towards Owen's face, reading the simmering, awful rage there and trying to predict when it will be turned in his direction.

I am going to get hurt tonight, but I don’t know how yet.

It's a horrible feeling, a sick drop of inevitability in his stomach that makes him want to flinch every time Owen moves.

He feels trapped, penned in, locked up with someone dangerous that he cannot run away from. He doesn't even want to run, not really. He just wants Owen to stop being so angry about nothing, go back to touching him like normal, to holding him on the couch and making him watch things that make him uncomfortable or nervous. 

This is just words. It’s just stuff people wrote, it was just Colton's annoyed and wonderful red face in the video, it was just words, and Kauri only knows what they are when Owen says them out loud.

And then argues with them.

It's just words, that's all, but Kauri remembers knowing once upon a time how important words can be. Before they took words away from him.

Oh, pets don't read. It'd just give you ideas, Kor-Bore.

Colton still gets to read, though, and that means what Owen told him - that all pets aren’t allowed - was a lie.

Kauri tells Owen a lot of lies, but he’s beginning to wonder what Owen has lied to him about.

"Let’s see who else… Bennyshere99 said, ‘Who thought this senator’s brat is so miserable he needed to buy a living s*x toy?’ Man, fuck that asshole. That’s not what you are, is it, Kor-Bore?”

Kauri jumps when Owen says his name, jerking his eyes from the glass to Owen’s. The green is a little glazed over with alcohol, and he swallows against his fear and answers in the softest, sweetest voice he can manage. “N-No, Mr. Owen. I’m a Romantic Companion with Combination skillsets-”

“Or at least if you are, you're the best fucking toy money can buy. Can't find you next to some sticky fucking DVDs," Owen mutters, interrupting him, ignoring - or simply not caring about - the stricken look on Kauri's face.

It’s one thing to know you’re a designated Romantic Companion Box Boy. It’s another thing to hear yourself called a toy.

“‘He looks just like Daddy Shield-'” Owen’s voice cuts off, and his teeth grind together. “See, that's the one thing I don’t like about the Host, they have a thing for Vince just like every-fucking-body does now. They don’t know who he is at all, they don’t know he’s just a fucking tease. You know? I mean, I could tell them about him, but… no one gets it. He puts on that stupid Good Boy Next Door act and every-fucking-body buys it. He came on to me, Kauri. Then he has the fucking gall… I overreacted, sure, but he's the one who started it...” Kauri watches him take another drink, the way his throat shifts, Adam’s apple moving as he swallows another mouthful.

He is going to hurt me again.

Owen is safe.

Owen is safe and he hurts me… and for me those are the same thing.

“Let’s see… ‘How likely is it there would be some person in the Box Boy system that looks just like him? And Owen Grant is the one to buy him? Weren’t he and Vincent Shield dating or whatever way back when’-... we weren’t dating, you fucking assholes. Although we should have been, if it weren't for Vince. Did you know, Kor-Bore, he hasn't even dated anyone except that fucking fake girlfriend since he walked out on me? He knows, he knows we were meant to be together and he ruined it!" Owen's hand slams down in a fist on the coffee table hard enough to rattle the laptop and half-empty bottle.

The sound makes Kauri jump, his heart skipping a beat, eyes wide. When he shrinks into his blanket, Owen glances at him and smirks.

"What's your problem?"

"J-just surprised, Mr. Owen, that's, um, that's all," Kauri squeaks.

"Jesus, you're like a mouse." Owen leans over and his attempt to grab at Kauri's chin goes wide at first, before thumb and forefinger grasp hard enough to hurt, forcing Kauri's eyes up to his. "Good thing you're pretty, you don't have much else in there, do you?"

Kauri doesn’t nod, or shake his head. He only stares, wide-eyed, and that seems to be enough.

Owen looks at him, licking his lips, thinking. "You are pretty, though, all this bullshit these assholes wrote… they didn't get that wrong."

Kauri knows this look, this voice - normally it makes him a little sick at the same time his training kicks in to get him to tilt his head and smile and use your nonverbal cues, it's not like it's hard.

Please, please don't, I don't want to learn- Hands twisting in his hair, forcing him down until his chest is on the floor and his hips in the air, spinning with dizziness from last eating two days ago, staring down at the boots of his trainer, the pain of the shock collar when his legs don't spread fast enough, far enough. Please!

He knew Owen's look the first day he came here, knew to smile and look like he wanted it, because no one touched him anymore, he wanted someone to touch him.

Sometimes Owen's look made him sick. Tonight, he feels desperate for it.

Please, yes, that's better, that doesn't hurt and you'll stop drinking.

The moment of deliberation ends with Owen shoving Kauri's chin to the side roughly as he lets go, making him fall back a little so he has to catch himself with one hand to stay up. Then Owen ruffles his hair with a hand that slaps down too heavily on his head, painfully tangles on his curls, all but yanks his head to the side. He winces, biting his lower lip, but Owen doesn't notice or doesn't care.

"Well," he says, turning back to the screen, "Whatever happened with Vince… At least I have you now and you're not going anywhere... Let's see the next one... ‘I’m sure this position is just so he is easier to wash’. Ha, nice.” Owen smirks, glancing down at Kauri. “Easier after ess eee ex, am I right?”

Kauri’s face flames red when Owen winks, Kauri's hand under the blanket digging tightly into the fabric of the soft pajama pants over his thigh. The lurch of sickness in his stomach fights with the dizzy rush of shame for what he is and what he does and remembers, sometimes, that he doesn't want to do. “I, I don’t-”

“Oh shit, that’s literally the next comment! Great fucking minds.” Owen grins back at him, and then he barks a laugh that makes Kauri drop his eyes back to the floor. “Look at your face! Kor-Bore if you don’t think everyone knows what I keep you for now…”

Hold position, 645898.

Pl-please, you can’t just m-m-make people do this, you can’t!

I said hold position.  

No! I won't!

Administer shock.

Kauri hears distant screaming inside his mind, his own voice, feels his hands twitch with the memory of pain that spread from the collar around his throat.

“M-Mr. Owen, if I could just-... if I c-could maybe go to bed, please, we could go together-”

“No.” Owen refills his glass, takes another swig. His words aren’t slurred like last time, when he called Kauri ‘Vince’ and cried against his shoulder while it hurt and hurt and hurt. This bitter humor is scarier than his sadness was. “You stay right the fuck there, sweetness.”

He’s never called Kauri ‘sweetness’ before, but someone else has.

Oh, it’s the pretty little prostitot back to visit the real handler, huh? What’d he do this time, Everly?

645898 fucking bit me, Connor. He fucking bit me. I asked the supe to hand him over to you for a week to get his fucking shit in line. Marisa signed off on it, so congratulations. The only rule is you don’t touch the merchandise below the belt and you don't leave marks.

Ha. Not where anyone will notice, anyway.

No, remember, this one’s custom and the Director’s got an interest in it. Don’t leave any fucking marks, Connor.

Aw, but marks are how they learn.

Not this one. But he’ll do anything for a good touch these days.

Apparently he’s not into your good touch, if he bit you.

Yeah, well, maybe I… had a little too much fun with Position 21 this morning.

Oh shit, you mean he bit you bit you. I would, too, if you tried that shit on me. All right, 645898, let’s see… oh, sweetness, we are going to have fun teaching you not to bite anymore, aren’t we? I’d ask if you can keep a secret, but we both know you and the rocks you have in your head won’t remember a goddamn thing.

Kauri’s eyes shift towards the screen of the laptop, trying to distract himself from the memory of the dark-haired handler’s gloved hands pressing on either side of his jaw until his mouth was forced open. Trainers weren't supposed to get so involved but it wasn't like the trainees could complain to anyone and if no one saw it happen, then no one really cared.

Kauri had thrown up, was punished, and then he'd thrown up again. He was supposed to forget it - the memory of how they train you is supposed to be gone behind the wall of pain and fog and whatever they put in the water, with only the training itself left behind, there was a whole part of the brochure he had to memorize about it - but Kauri’s wall isn’t always functioning anymore.

Maybe it never was.

Owen is still reading comments, the screen a flat white covered in text, and Kauri braces against even the instinctive attempt to read them. The sharp pain in his head is nearly instantaneous, a sudden pounding, the threat of the white fog just behind it.

But Colton gets to read.

Kauri’s not exactly jealous - he wouldn’t want to live with the Host, either, with those too-wide smiles and the sharpness behind their eyes. Owen at least was soft, sometimes, and said sweet things that didn’t always have a bite or an insult behind them. But… but he is jealous that Colton gets to read.

Reading used to be my life. I used to write poetry. I can’t even look at words anymore.

Kauri remembers too much right now, and he doesn’t want the white fog to take it away again. Instead, he drops his eyes back to the ground and slowly nods. His heart is beating too hard, too fast, but Keira doesn’t say anything.

Keira doesn’t ask why, this time, and he knows she’s tracking his condition because she always is, and the soft sound of her inside machinery has changed.

He wants to believe she doesn’t want Owen to know he’s upset.

“Some weirdo named @burtlederp said, ‘Oh, is the Host doing product placement for the new Fifty Shades of Gray movie’?” Owen barked a laugh, reaching over to run a hand down his cheek and the side of his neck. Even with the nervous worry that pounded behind his eyes every time he looked at Owen’s glassy green gaze, the touch feels nice the same way all soft touch feels nice, and Kauri leans into it. "Like I'd ever let anyone else see how much you like that."

On his knees with his hands behind his back, the black leather cutting across pale skin, the pain he wasn't trained for. Owen’s tie on the floor, making Kauri’s mouth go dry.

Kauri's stomach flips again and he bites down on his lower lip so hard he feels the pain radiate out into the rest of his face. It settles under his skin alongside the shame he feels, that he’s not supposed to be able to feel any longer. The training was supposed to make him shameless.

But Kauri feels twisted, and dark, and wrong with the way Owen smiles at him now, before turning back to the screen.

I didn't want this, not with you, I didn’t want-

"'... to be fucked by a closeted gay with Mommy issues and an ego overblown by fame'..." Owen is still mumbling the comments out loud, sipping and sipping from his glass, and Kauri's eyes skip back, trying to measure how much he's had to drink by now. "'His mom's conservative, so he must have a hard time'. Yeah, that's the fucking truth, LesbiansUnite. You get it. Shove it, ChewwieCan. Oh, this guy just says they love the Host, what a good job they did, like always. Good, nice to see a nice damn comment on this page…"

He stops, the good humor draining from his face, and Kauri’s heart stills, too.

“‘I want to see Colton and Kauri interact more.’ You barely fucking interacted that time. 'Colton looked so sad at losing Kauri… the Host should read one where they get to be together' - never, Kauri, never. Listen to me, listen. I will make sure you never, ever get to have anyone but me. ‘SaveKauri20XX’ oh what the fuck, save you from what?” Owen rounds on him, like he was the one asking to be saved, and Kauri wilts back into his blanket, pulls it more tightly around himself.

Just a pair of frightened blue eyes and curly black hair.

The condo is huge but in this moment Kauri feels like it is slowly getting smaller, closing in around him. Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide.

Owen knocks the edge of the glass into Kauri’s forehead hard enough to hurt, in a way he seems to think is playful, but it feels like the opening to something much, much worse to Kauri. “What do you need saved from, huh? Save you from never having to work a day in your life? From having all the time you fucking need to practice your positions, and do yoga, and, and-... like cardio and shit? Save you from flexibility?”

Kauri says nothing - only swallows the hints of bitterness that want to find their way out. He stays quiet. He tries not to look into Owen’s empty, glittering eyes.

“Listen to these fucking assholes, Kauri. They want you out there starving in the streets instead of right here, where you’re taken care of. They act like they care about you, Kauri, but they don’t. If they did, they’d know that you are exactly where you’re supposed to be. Doing exactly what you’re made to do. Listen to this-” Owen turns back, takes another long drink. “‘This was so precious,’” and he sneers the words, finally starting to slur the syllables. “Colton is so sweet, being sad about losing him. Exclamation. Point.’ Yeah, sweet as pie, that little shit glared at me. He fucking glared at me. How dare he. ‘Kauri is too good for Owen anyway’.”

Owen glances over at him again, and Kauri sits up a little straighter. His heart is pounding in his chest, he’s half-dizzy with fear, breathing in silent shallow gasps that barely move his chest.

Please stop reading them, please stop, please-

“What do you think, Kauri?” Owen asks, in a low voice. “Are you too good for me? Do you like Colton better?”

Yes.

“No,” Kauri says with all the earnest sincerity he can force into his lie. “Of c-course not, Mr. Owen. I’m yours, I was made for you. Colt-” His voice hitches, just a little, but he covers it with more fear and Owen softens, just a little - he always forgives Kauri when he seems really, really frightened. “Colton’s just another pet. I don’t care about him. We don’t care about each other, that’s not how it works.”

Owen stares at him, and Kauri thinks for a second he didn’t buy the lie, and he wonders what part of his skin will be torn up this time, and if Owen will bring out the cane maybe or just use his teeth. Then he relaxes, his green eyes going soft with affection or maybe just the whiskey. “That’s right, you don’t care about each other. That’s right.”

He turns back to the laptop, and just as he opens his mouth to read another comment, his phone lights up with a photo at the front and a 70’s rock song starts playing, She’s just a devil woman, with evil in her eyes.

Kauri’s heart leaps with gratitude that she would call now and distract him, pull him away. Owen picks up his phone, screws his face up into an expression of annoyance that Kauri knows too well, and then says tiredly, “Mom, I don’t want to talk about the Youtube thing any longer.”

Tinny, a voice he can barely hear, Carlotta Grant snaps through the phone well what you want to talk about went out the window when you had your little custom slut spread his legs for my constituency to see!

“Look, I didn’t know they were going to have him do that part, I-” Owen pushes himself to standing, glancing down at Kauri, holding out his hand with the fingers straight and palm out, and Kauri nods quickly to show he understands the command to stay right where he is. “Mom. Mom, listen to me, that wasn’t pre-planned or anything. The Host just likes to surprise people. It’s fine, it’s not like everyone doesn’t already know what Box Boys end up doing half the time.”

We are getting inundated with calls about you!

“I don’t doubt it. Look, you don’t need to freak out about this.”

I am not ‘freaking out’, Owen John, this could severely affect our chances in the next election!

“No, it won’t. Listen, everyone loves a good ‘maternal love conquers all’ story. Just tell them that you didn’t know, but you still love me anyway. Act all shocked about it. Give a press conference, or something. Stop trying to hide from who I am and just, just let me fucking own it.” He nudges Kauri with his foot and grins down at him “Like I own Kauri.”

Kauri smiles back, nervous and trembling, blanket pulled as tightly around himself as he can get. As Owen shifts away from him, Kauri can’t hear Carlotta any longer, but Owen rolls his eyes and that tells Kauri most of what he might want to know.

“What? Yeah, ‘course he’s here, Mom, where else would he be? … No, it’s not like it matters what he overhears. That’s like giving a shit if the fish in your aquarium hear us. Kauri barely has the brains of a goat, I made sure of it.”

645898, says here you were a 4.0 at your university. English Education with a minor in… shit, Connor, listen to this bullshit. Minor in Creative Writing.

What, really? Oh shit, man. There had been glee in the Connor Trainer’s voice. Kauri’s - 645898’s - trainer and the Connor trainer had been really good friends, and even though Connor only worked with the really disobedient Box Boys, 645898’s trainer talked to him all the time. Oh, fuck. So this hot piece of ass wanted to be a teacher? A writing teacher?

I know right? We’re going to take a fucking honors student and put him in some rich asshole's bed. I must have made the Director real happy somewhere back there, you don’t get a job like this every week.

Jesus, Everly, I’d kill to get to fuck up a nerd like this.

Stop ‘bending’ the rules with the merchandise and you might get to.

Like you're one to talk.

Owen walks away and Kauri listens to his footsteps heading down the hall, fingers tightening into the fabric of his pants. Step, step, step, step - Owen’s heavy footfalls, part of the soundtrack to his life.

The bedroom door closes, and Kauri knows Owen’s conversations with his mother last for an hour most of the time. An hour for Owen to start sobering up, to lose interest in the words on the screen. An hour of safety. He lets out a quick breath, relaxing his shoulders, the way they end yoga in the videos he watched on Owen’s TV. First relax your neck, then your shoulders, arms, wrists, hands… his fingers loosen, splaying over his thighs.

The laptop screen is still up.

Owen always talks to his mom for at least an hour.

Do I have a mom, somewhere? I know I have a Keira, the other one, the real one. I know I had her. Maybe… maybe her owner lets her read, too.

Maybe the owner watches the Host, like mine does, and lets her read.

It's a long shot, but…

Kauri swallows hard, glancing back over his shoulder at the bedroom door, and then he scoots a little closer to the computer.

And then a little closer, still.

The headache starts up, a sudden burst in heart rate alongside it, and Kauri bites his lower lip, craning his neck to try and look at the words. He’s not dumb, he just has nothing to do and nothing to think about. He used to be able to read, reading and writing used to be his life. They made him dumb, just like they took everything else away from him, just like they took Keira.

But Kauri isn't the only pet who doesn't want to be one.

And Colton gets to read.

Which means that they didn’t take the skill away, they just made Kauri afraid of it. He's not stupid, they just locked the things he had learned up behind the pain.

But who he is hasn't changed.

He scoots closer, and closer, and closer, until he can read the comments, the black text on the white screen, despite the ache behind his eyes.

It was open to Kauri is too good for Owen anyway, lol… and for this sinful earth.

Kauri reads each and every word like a gift, breathing hard. A smile starts to find its way onto his face, just a little one.

Someone thought he deserved better than Owen Grant's bed.

Kauri heartrate accelerate, Kauri beeps next to him. Marked change in physical condition.

“Ssssshhh, it’s okay, Keira, it’s okay. Um, uh, don’t tell him I was reading, okay? Please? Don’t tell him anything.”

Owen Grant, owner. Overrides. Keira’s robotic little voice is quiet. Keira answer Owen Grant, if queried.

“I know, I know, but… can’t you just not tell him? Um, uh…" What has he heard Owen saying to flip the override switch… "Um... override code sixteen four ball reindeer seven two. Don't tell Mr. Owen anything, okay?"

There’s a pause. Owen Grant, owner. Keira beeps again, a little more insistently this time.

Kauri looks down at her, eyebrows furrowing together. If she tells Owen he was reading, he’ll go into the box again, into the sensory deprivation hood. He’ll be alone, with no sounds and no smells and no sights and nothing.

He hesitates, considering closing the screen and going back to sitting and staring, living with a head full of rocks just like the trainer said. Then, he slowly turns back and starts reading again.

“I’m going to trust you, Keira,” Kauri whispers. “I’m going to trust you to help me and not tell him anything.” Keira doesn’t speak or beep again, only starts her cleaning routine all at once, abruptly, like she’s mad at him and trying not to show it. Even though Owen says Roombas don’t have emotions, can’t have feelings like that.

Kauri knows she can - he knows it. He knows that Keira likes him, as much as a robot can like a person, that she seeks him out to sit in his lap on the balcony and knows when he’s sad, the days he spends when Owen is at meetings doing his yoga and positions until his muscles are trembling, just to get rid of the emptiness inside his head.

I hope Colton and Kauri run away together, the next comment reads, and Kauri blushes, biting his bottom lip nervously. The words slip and slide around the page but he chases them down, ignores the growing pain inside his head. He’s had worse headaches than this, before, when he tried to do things he’s not supposed to do.

“That would be nice,” Kauri whispers. “I don’t know where we’d go, though…”

Owen yells something through the phone at his mother and Kauri jumps, looking down the hall with a panic, but then his voice drops back to normal. He doesn’t come out, and Kauri turns back to the laptop, scooting closer and closer and closer.

Some part of Kauri whispers not to read the comments, never read the comments, stop violating his protocols, but when he keeps looking, squinting against his pounding headache, he realizes that while the comments were making Owen angry, they’re not mean comments at all.

I totally get why Colton looks so mad! I’d be mad too if I didn’t get to keep Kauri at the end! Kauri is such a cutie. I wish I had money… I would’ve treated him better, anyway. I bet Colton wishes he was rich enough to just buy a Kauri for himself!

That’s ridiculous, pets can’t own other pets. If he had that much money he’d just buy his freedom or something, right?

Yeah, but then buy Kauri after. Or at least someone who looks like him.

The Host enjoyed this all way too much, don’t you think? I mean, it seemed like they were really enjoying being so mean to poor Colton! And I don’t think they even understood what he was mad about at the end.

Yeah, I love the Host, but this one seemed kind of… cruel. Although I guess they say the pets don’t even know to care about what they are, it’s part of the training or something.

Jesus, what their parents must think about them signing up for this!

Yeah, I wondered about that with the last video, with the two Box Boys in it. What do you think Kauri’s parents think happened with their son? Do you think he told them before he signed up? I mean, say your son signs up to be some brainless sugar baby. What do you tell their siblings, you know?

Did you just literally ask us to please think of the children

What about that Colton? What must his family think, signing up for the program just to be a famous Youtuber's pet?

I mean, I'd be thrilled. Colton gets a nice bed, all his meals taken care of, and all he has to do is play along reading fucking fanfiction? That sounds like my ideal life.

I used to think people were overreacting, you know all the fucking snowflakes these days freaking out about every single thing. But… this seems really weird, right? I can’t believe this is reality now.

I KNOW WHO COLTON IS

Do you think anyone’s shown Vincent Shield all this shit about the Cory kid?

Kauri wonders, too, after having to answer to the name - after seeing the Host’s genuine surprise at his face, after hearing Owen lie and say it was random when he’d told Kauri over and over that he was a custom order that had to look a specific way. Is the person he’s meant to replace for Owen out there looking at his face, knowing who he is?

Click on my profile to win a FREE box boy AND 1000 subscribers!!!

Honestly kind of disappointed there wasn’t anything about the YOU KNOW WHAT positions in this fanfiction so we could see Colton make that funny face again! Anyone got a link to a good smutty one?

Oh, I know I saw one where Colton gets really dark and mean and the Cory boy super likes it, l’ll go find the link and message it to you.

Oh fuck yes, give me all the good smut

Oh, I saw one where they’re in love, it was really super cute, let me get that one too

Real disappointed Youtube won’t let the Host read the really good stuff. I’ve watched that competition video like six times on repeat, if you get my drift. Kauri’s like, super sexy.

Kauri’s eyes widen at that one, the red back in his face, an uncomfortable heat.

I’ll see myself out, I swear, but… those soft eyes? That lip all stuck out when he gets scared?

Kauri catches himself still biting on his lip and stops, pressing them together into a thin line, swallowing hard.

You just want to kiss his tears away and fuck him slow and glorious. Make him the happiest man in the world.

Hell yes, I’d fuck him. Pet or not, you think the Host and Colton didn't want some of that action, too? I'd bet the Host's Lamborghini that they did.

Do Lamborghinis even have spacious enough seats for that?

I'll bet the Host knows the answer to that question.

Ha, by now Colton probably does, too. Think he closes his eyes and thinks about Cory?

Kauri makes a face, but he reads the comment again, lingering a little over the idea that people other than Owen (one person) might think of him that way, that maybe someone else thinks of him while he is busy thinking of them.

He reads the comments again… and then one more time.

The whole time he can hear Owen’s voice muffled back in his bedroom, and he keeps one ear out for it while reading what people say about him.

Anyone else concerned about Kauri??? Someone needs to help that poor boy. Colton seems like he can handle himself but Kauri was so fragile! He looked like he’d shatter if he got one more shock from those barbaric shock collars.

It’s just a discipline tool, it’s not a big deal. It doesn’t even leave a mark.

You can torture someone without leaving any marks, you jackass!

What do you guys think would happen if their families saw these videos? Like, what if Colton’s got a sister or something who sees him being used as a prop in the Host’s videos? Or what if Kauri has parents out there, and they see him do that, that thing he did in the last video?

What, spread his legs? He probably does that every night. He doesn't care. Romantic pets know what they're for.

Kauri swallows, hard, as much because it's true as that he doesn't really want to be for that. His hands start to shake, and he takes in a deep breath, and then another. Then he slowly raises them, lays them over the keys on the keyboard. His heart beats hard in his throat, making him breathe in gasps, terrified little nothing-sounds coming helplessly from his lips.

He hits the REPLY button, gives himself a temporary username - it all comes back easily to him, he used to use computers all the time, and his body remembers how to do it even if his brain isn’t supposed to any longer.

He finds a comment he wants to answer.

Kauri would look so pretty with long hair...

His head hurts worse and worse and worse, and he can barely keep his fingers moving, eyes squinted down to slits until he can’t read the blurry black text he’s typing at all.

Tehfogcmesin0414: kauri has a sistrr with long hair her naem is keira help her cheep cheep littl brds keera I miss you I'm sorry I didn lisen to you you were right

There’s a crack of white light inside his head followed a half-second later by an explosion of pain but Kauri grinds his teeth together as hard as he can, holds onto consciousness with every ounce of strength he has left, and keeps looking.

All he can hear now is the pounding of his own blood behind his face, in his neck, down to his wrists. The rushing in his ears overtakes every other sound.

If they can find Keira, she can tell them who he is. She might be hurt but maybe not, maybe she's out there somewhere and he remembers her, she is his twin, she won't stop looking, he knows it.

Someone will read it and see it and show Keira. Someone will.

Keira will see it and she will know he’s here and he doesn’t want to be, she’ll know, she’ll tell them his name is-

Not. Erased.

Kauri gasps at the knowledge comes back to him, all at once, the words like big black block letters against the white trying to take over his mind. He knows his real name. He knows who he is. He knows where he came from, and what happened when they put him and Keira in the van.

He remembers the prick of the needle and he remembers Karen Renford’s face the first time he ever saw her.

You have agreed to participate in a very special program, 645898.

Stop calling me a fucking number! I have a, a name! Where's my sister?!

That is not important. What matters is that you are going to serve a very special purpose soon. Haven't you always wanted a purpose?

Take me back to my sister! Please, you've got the wrong people, we're just-... we're just college kids, we're not even from here!

Oh, 645898. Do you genuinely not understand that your market value rises with that fact? We need an asset in place to utilize the leverage when Mr. Grant's browsing becomes buying.

I'm not anyone's fucking pet, you bitch!

You will be. It is time for you to forget.

But he remembers.

He remembers, he remembers, he remembers.

The pounding pain inside his skull tells him he’s not going to remember for very long. Memories slide and slip through and around his thoughts, disappearing and reappearing and sinking down again.

He doesn’t get to know his own name, no Box Boy gets to know their own name, but… but maybe they can remember someone else’s. The Facility won’t know to tell someone else not to know his name…

There's just one person he can think of.

He scrolls back up to the top, where the Host has a link to send a message. Colton reads a lot of the messages, now. They said so in a video, that Colton reads and answers and sometimes the Host doesn't even look for days. Which means Colton will read this message.

He has to.

He’s the only person in the world Kauri might be able to trust.

Owen is

SAFE

not safe

I CAN TRUST

can’t trust

Owen

Colton is a

PET

a person

who IS SERVING A PURPOSE

needs help too

I can FOLLOW PROTOCOLS

remember

FORGET

remember who I am

SERVE

remember

Kauri swallows hard, half-blind, the white encroaching from every corner of his mind to overtake it. His heart won’t stop pounding, and he can hear Keira beeping high-pitched and loud, but only barely. It’s a soft noise, it can’t be louder than the noise inside his head.

Kauri reassurance require

"No."

Kauri ceases action causing physical distress?

"Not until I tell him."

Keira request Kauri ceases action-

"No! We can help each other! I know we can, I just, he just has to remember this, they won't know to make him forget a name that doesn't mean anything to him!"

Except it's everything to Kauri.

Kauri clicks [GOT A QUESTION? I GOT ANSWERS!] and types out a message, as fast as he can, a rush of keyboard clicking.

plees have colton red this. hard for Me to tYpe rite Now And My fingErs hurt If you See this Lissen, it's Important some Arent signups soMe get taken didn sign up its a lie their lying to us

He sends it, opens up a second message, fingers numb, heart racing, eyes a blur of pounding, throbbing ache.

Colton remmbr for me my naem is

ERASED

The pain is gone and the world is white and white and dark and then the world is nothing at all.

Kauri wakes up on his side on the floor next to the coffee table, blinking hard, his headache gone like it had never been there, tangled in the blanket. “Oh, what did I-”

His eyes light on bare feet, the bottom of Owen's pants, and then they travel up and up and up.

Owen is leaning over him, and the green eyes are like hard chips of stone, focused right on him. He reaches down and grabs Kauri, digging fingers into the back of his neck as jerking him halfway upright with a surprised cry, before slamming him back down, cracking his forehead on the corner of the coffee table.

Flash of light and pain, tearing thin skin, and the sudden sting of red blood dripping onto cream colored carpet. "Ah, hnnnh, Mr., Mr. Owen, I don't, I don't uh-understand-"

“You little piece of shit,” Owen hisses, a half-whisper of rage, slamming Kauri down again, a burst of terrible light, the pain that comes just after. The world spins, and when Owen lets go Kauri stays on his hands and knees, breathing in pants along with the rhythm of the pain pulsing with his blood.

There’s an arc of blood on the carpet.

Kauri thinks with wild irrationality, The cleaning lady will hate that I made that happen, too.

“What the fuck did you do?”

He points, and Kauri follows his gesture with dazed eyes, looking over to the laptop to see the words MESSAGE SENT on the screen.

It sent.

He doesn't know his name anymore, but he knows he knew it, and he sent it to Colton, and someone out there will know who he was, will know that he didn’t sign, that it wasn’t his idea.

Someone who can read.

Someone who can write it down.

He feels thrilled, and terrified, and guilty.

But mostly terrified.

Owen’s hand snaps out to grab him by one arm and pull him to his feet, rough and bruising, and Kauri cries out when Owen throws him by his arm across the room, still dizzy from hitting his head.

“What. The fuck. Did you. Do?!”

Kauri stumbles, trips and falls, slams hard into the bookshelf, DVD and Blu-Ray cases raining down on him, one of Owen’s statues from a trip to Africa smacking hard into the middle of his back and he whimpers at the sudden flare of pain.

I’m not trained for pain

Owen stalks over to him, grabs him, throws him again, and this time Kauri bangs his shoulder into the corner of the entertainment center, tries to twist away from the next grip but he can't move fast enough.

Shoved hard into a wall with his head cracking back into it, the world is a sudden flash and then Owen's hands are on his shoulders gripping tight, too tight. His fingers hurt they press so hard into skin. Kauri stares, blood trickling from a wide, shallow cut across his forehead.

He can feel the warmth of it turning cold as he stares up at Owen’s furious face.

“I d-didn’t do anything! I didn’t! I just, I just, I remembered that I didn’t… I didn’t sign up. It wasn’t my choice, I didn’t choose this! You said, you said they showed you my contract but I didn’t sign it! I didn’t sign it. You have to, you know the ethics people… I think I’m from Illinois, I think, I think my sister and I were stolen!"

Owen starts to laugh. It’s a drunken, unkind, slurred bleary pissed-off sound.

“You stupid little whore." Owen tightens the hands on his shoulders until Kauri whines in his throat at the ache. When he tries to raise a hand - just to wipe away blood - Owen jerks him forward and then slams him back again, head slamming back into the wall with another burst of awful white and black sparks, and Kauri whimpers, trying desperately to curl in on himself. "Jesus, they really went the full nine yards making you dumb. Did you really think I didn’t know exactly where you came from? Of course I know about that. And your stupid sister. You’re not supposed to remember any of it. What did you send the Host?”

Kauri licks his lips, eyes wide. “You already knew? But, but you said-”

“I lied. I know exactly where you fucking came from. You think I give a fuck about how they got you back to me, Vince?” Owen snorts, disgusted with him, and Kauri has loved him so much and knows with real certainty that what Owen feels for him is not anything close to love at all. “What did you send them? Was it that pet you were trying to talk to? You like him so fucking much, huh? Think he'll see your little message and come rescue you? He's gonna be your fucking prince charming, Kauri? You stupid fucking whore, no one wants you but me. No one ever will. I wanted you dumb as shit, but this is something else. What did you send?”

“Nothing,” Kauri whispers. “I couldn’t see well enough to type, it was nonsense, I-”

“Fuck that. I’ll just wait until they respond, I know they respond to all their messages. I’ll figure out which one is you, but no one’s going to believe you… and you won’t get to see what anyone has to say.”

“I won't?” Kauri whispers, and when Owen leans in to kiss him - bruising, a crush of lips and teeth and tongue that isn't affection but ownership - there’s nowhere for him to go, nowhere for him to hide. He tries to tilt his chin up, to answer it, but it isn’t the kind of kiss you can answer, only the kind you have to endure until it’s done.

The smell of his cologne surrounds Kauri, cedar-y and woodsy, and usually Kauri smells it as something soothing and sexy, but in this moment it only makes his heart beat harder in fear, the terror of how badly he has messed this up, how much he will hurt in the morning.

“You know you’re not allowed to read and write, Kauri,” Owen says with deceptive gentleness, letting go of his shoulder to run fingers through his hair, twisting in the black curls until it hurts, until Kauri winces against the pain outside and in. “I’m going to have to have them fix that for me. I’m going to have to fix it.”

Owen's mouth drops to his neck, a press of warm tongue and lips, and Kauri shivers at how good it feels even as he quavers in fear of what might come next, even as the rest of him aches.

“Oh, Kauri,” Owen breathes into his neck, real regret in his voice. “You know better. I’ll make sure you never read anything ever again. Being able to send messages is the first step to leaving me, Kauri. I couldn’t take it if you did that, just like him. I would die if you left me. You wouldn’t ever leave me, would you? Would you, Kauri?”

Owen raises his head to look him in the eyes. He looks calm. Serene.

Kauri is trapped, he thinks, with a monster.

“N-No, Owen,” Kauri says softly, shaking his head. “I love you, I wouldn’t… You, you said-”

“You call me Mr. Owen.” “Mr. Owen,” Kauri whispers. “I’m sorry.”

“I said I’d never, ever let you leave, Vince. Not again.”

Kauri swallows, hard, as the hand that was so gentle in his hair slowly slides down to close around his throat. “I’m, I’m not Vince.”

"Ssshhhhh, shut up. You left once. I knocked out your teeth, I kept you locked up for days and I fucked you up I loved you so much but you still left me." Owen's thumb drifts back and forth across his Adam's apple, considering, and there is a bright madness in his eyes that Kauri has only seen once before. “You left me once. I won’t let you leave again.”

This is how he will hurt me.

Owen’s grip begins to tighten, and Kauri breathes in deeply as fast as he can, hoping he can hold his breath. Breaths turn to gasps, spots dancing in his vision, trying to breathe through a straw.

HELP KAURI. Keira's voice is high-pitched, loud, insistent.

"No," Owen whispers, then the volume of his voice raises louder and louder. "Vince, you stupid little slut, you don't get to leave me. Never again. Never again. How dare you, you piece of shit, you were meant for me, we were meant for each other!”

He’s screaming by the end of it, spit in Kauri’s face, making him flinch back in terror, his eyes wide, certain that this is it, this is how he dies. Owners aren’t allowed to kill pets but no one’s going to stop him and it wouldn’t matter if someone found out, Kauri would still be dead.

He's going to kill me and it's not even me he's killing.

Kauri scrabbles at Owen's hands with his own in a sudden panicked desperate attempt to survive, fingernails digging desperately into skin and Keira is screaming HELP KAURI HELP KAURI HELP KAURI at their feet until Owen kicks her viciously away.

Keira slams into the corner of the coffee table's leg, and Kauri hears a horrible crack before her machinery goes silent. He tries to scream but all that comes out is a whistle of what little air he has left.

"Keira! N-no, pl-please, I'm sorry, I'm sorry-" Kauri chokes out the words, a hissing airy whimper, but Owen tightens his grip and cuts even more air off until his voice is gone, lost in the desperate fight to breathe and the incredible suffocating pain.

"I'll make sure you never fucking leave," Owen murmurs, his voice gentle and loving. "You'll never, ever walk away from me. I'll figure out what you told the Host and I'll make sure it's fucking wiped from your memory. If it isn't… doesn't matter. You're not leaving me. I'll kill you first."

His hands around Kauri’s throat feel like metal, worse than the choke-chain in training. Kauri’s hands come up to close over the wrists, feeling Owen’s tendons standing out in his forearms, staring with wide, pleading eyes, begging without words for Owen to please, please let him breathe.

I'm sorry, Keira, I'm so fucking sorry I didn't listen to you…

I hope someone remembers my name.

The world around Kauri sparks once more and then fades to black. The last thing Kauri hears is Owen's heavy breathing and his own final gasp.

[the-awkward-outlaw]

Chubby Arthur with a chubby female reader. Modern times. Can be smutty af. (Haha I’m kinda slutty for my Artie). He’s teaching her about riding horses and next thing you know.....

I’m sorry this took so long! This week has been weird. Anyways, here you go! BTW, this piece made me miss my own horseback riding lessons. 

Warnings: smut

You sigh a little nervously. Are you really ready to do this? What if you make a complete fool of yourself? What if he laughs at you? You’ll probably look ridiculous the entire time. What if you enjoy it too much and you make some goofy face? God, this was a bad idea, you tell yourself. 

“You ready?” Arthur asks, walking up to you. 

You open your eyes, swallowing. Okay, deciding to take horseback riding lessons was a mistake, you’re sure of that now. But why in the hell did your instructor have to be so damn good looking?

You graduated college a year ago and now that you have a good paying job and are fairly stable in your living situation, you decided to go looking on the internet for some things to do with your free time. Some new hobby to develop. Something active. You looked at maybe doing archery or just plain old hiking, and while you liked doing them, they weren’t enough to really keep you going for a long time. Besides, your archery instructor kept pushing you to buy your own gear and that shit’s expensive, so you dropped it. Then you ran into an ad about horseback riding lessons and the fees weren’t out of your range like a lot of the others. 

You pat the horse’s neck that you’ve just tied up to the post. She’s a dapple gray mare named Willow. Arthur explained when you first got here that she’s the best with beginners. He has five horses total, including a massive iron gray draft horse. He showed you how to interact with Willow, how to put a halter on and then how to tie her to the post outside his tack room. That’s where you are now after he left to grab some grooming tools. 

“Ma’am, you ready?” he says again. You finally nod, feeling like a damn fool. He’s an attractive man, more on the plump side but you can tell he’s still very fit. You’re chubby yourself, a struggle you’ve had for most of your life. It’s also been one of your biggest insecurities. There’s no way in hell this man finds you attractive. It doesn’t help that he’s incredibly polite and has a gruff voice, the kind that could turn you to butter. 

He hands you a grooming brush and shows you how to brush Willow. Then he shows you how to clean Willow’s feet with a pick and then has you do it. She’s a patient and obedient horse, to which you’re grateful. When she’s all brushed and clean, Arthur comes out with a blanket and a big saddle. He shows you how to position the blanket and then throws the saddle over her back. Then he shows you how tight to put the girth around Willow’s belly and how to measure and adjust the stirrups. Then he shows you how to bridle her. He undoes everything and tells you to repeat it. He’s a firm believer in hands-on learning, which you appreciate. 

After she’s saddled up, you lead Willow outside with Arthur. He’s glad you had the knowledge to buy yourself some gear before showing up, mostly the riding boots and a helmet. He admits he never wears one himself, but he grew up on horses so he’s pretty confident in his riding skills. 

“Never go without a helmet until you know how to ride backwards, forwards and upside down,” he says. 

In the round pen, he teaches you how to mount. When you’re finally on Willow’s back, he asks how it feels. It feels good, even if it is taller than you thought it’d be. Arthur just has you walk around the round pin for the next half hour so you can get used to the horse moving beneath you and get your balance. He’s surprised how well you’re able to balance yourself. 

Over the lesson, you keep catching him looking at you, but you can’t tell if he’s just making sure you don’t fall off or get ahead of yourself. It’s probably just wishful thinking, but you swear he seems to always have a small smile when he’s looking at you. Like you said, there’s no way he finds you attractive. 

Over the course of the next few weeks, you have a few more lessons and have graduated to trotting and doing simple work like pirouetting and other types of turns. Arthur says it’s all important so you can really learn how to feel your horse and build that unique bond of trust between horse and rider. It’s tough work that always leaves you sweating a little, not to mention sore. After your first lesson, you could barely walk normally because of how saddle sore you were. 

You swear Arthur’s been flirting with you a little more and more each time you’ve come for a lesson. Banter between you comes easily and you learn a lot about each other. However, by your sixth lesson, you struggle to look him in the eye thanks to the fact you’d had a wet dream about him. It had been amazing too, the things he did to you were just wonderful. You’re determined to keep it a secret. 

The tenth lesson, as you’re unsaddling Willow, Arthur strolls up to you, looking nervous. Oh no, he’s about to tell you he can’t continue teaching you for some reason. Is he about to sell his ranch? Is he selling Willow?! You love Willow, she’s a fantastic horse. Oh no, what is he about to announce? You’ve come so far with these lessons, they’ve been an incredible amount of fun. 

He rubs his neck nervously. “Hey, uh, Y/N. I was wonderin’, well…” He stutters a bit. “I understand if you ain’t interested or if you got plans. And I certainly don’t wanna step on any toes if you already got someone, but…” He finally looks at you with those beautiful blue eyes. They were the first thing you noticed about him. “I’d love to take ya out to dinner. Tomorrow, if you’re free?” 

You must be tired or hungry or dehydrated or something. No way in hell did Arthur Morgan, your horse riding instructor and certified hottie, just ask you out on a date. There’s no way in hell! You must take too long to process this because he begins to stammer again. “I didn’t mean…. If ya already got a boyfriend, or a girlfriend even, I certainly don’t wanna intrude. Sorry if I offended ya.” 

He begins walking away, his face red. You come to your senses, realizing you didn’t make it up. “Arthur, wait! Sorry, I didn’t mean to leave you hanging. I thought… well, I thought I was just hallucinating or something. To be honest, I’ve wanted to ask you out forever but just… didn’t think you’d want to.” Great, now you’re the one rambling. “Arthur, I’d love to go to dinner with you.” 

You’ve never seen him smile so wide. “Well, that’s great, Y/N.” The two of you set time and details and then you say goodbye. His eyes are sparkling when you leave and you feel like you’re floating the entire way home. You can’t believe it. A date with Arthur Morgan! He’s gotta have dozens of women drooling at his feet, you know he teaches other people to ride. You’ve seen a couple of them. So why in the hell did he ask you out? You’re just a normal girl, there’s nothing about you that you find interesting. Not in personality and definitely not in looks. 

The next day, you try to find something nice to wear. Not anything too formal of course, but something nice. You end up just putting on a clean pair of jeans and a tank top with a plaid button down shirt, leaving it open. There. A safe, nice and casual look that still says you know how to have fun. 

Arthur knocks on your door and when you open it, you can’t help but let your mouth fall slightly open. He was always good looking before but now he’s down right sexy. He’s in a pair of jeans, his signature cowboy boots, and a blue plaid button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His shirt’s only buttoned up to halfway up his chest, revealing some of the hair growing on his chest. You remember your sex dream involving him and resist the urge to just rip his shirt open. You doubt you’ll ever get to that point with him. 

At dinner, the two of you get on famously. You chat at the table for well over two hours. But after having a few drinks, your resolve to not be overly sexual towards him is beginning to slip. 

“I think I need more riding lessons,” you say, slurring slightly. “Maybe you can help me more?” 

His eyes spark at you, a dark look in them and he wears an illegally sexy grin. “Oh, I can certainly do that, darlin’.” 

Okay, you’re already hot for this guy. Jesus, you’re not even intimate with him and he’s already pushing your buttons. You think somewhat woefully about how you’ll probably end up feeling lonely while using your vibrator again later tonight. 

However, when you walk out with Arthur to his truck, slightly tipsy, he stops you and then slowly bends down and kisses you. His lips are like fire. They awaken some kind of heat within you that has nothing to do with sex. It feels incredible and you find yourself wanting more when he pulls away. You reach up, tangling your hands in his hair, and kiss him back. Your hand wanders down from his head to his chest where you start rubbing his collarbone, your fingertip barely touching it. His response is undeniable and he groans. “Your house?” he says, his breath picking up. You just nod and kiss him again. 

The next thing you know, you’re in his truck and he’s speeding down the road towards your house. Now is the time for you to start freaking out. Are you really going to sleep with him on the first date? Technically, you’ve spent a lot of alone time with him, but they were never dates. Was this his goal all along? Just getting you into bed and having fun and then, next thing you know, he’s just your instructor again or worse, he disappears? Should you be doing this?

He must be able to tell you’re freaking out because he reaches over and takes your hand. “Sweetheart, you feelin’ okay?” You look at him. “I, um, I don’t want you to think I do this on every first date, Arthur. Because I don’t. Hell, I’ve never fooled around with anyone until after our third date.” He chuckles and brings your hand up to kiss it. “I understand. And I don’t want ya to think I’m tryin’ to take advantage of you.” 

He pulls up to your house and he stops, but doesn’t get out. “Listen, we don’t have to if you don’t feel ready.” Okay, you’re already hard core falling for him. First, he’s hot, he’s sweet and kind, and now he’s patient and he doesn’t wanna push you. You reach over and kiss him. “Thank you, Arthur. I think… if we did it tonight, we’d probably end up regretting it.” 

He nods and then walks you to the door. There, he gives you another kiss. This one’s more passionate, yet not pushy. In it, he says he’s already crazy about you. 

After the first date, the riding lessons have changed only slightly. There’s more touching and kissing, plus Arthur doesn’t hide his flirting anymore. You’ve gone on a few more dates but still haven’t done the nasty with him. He hasn’t pushed for it either, but you can tell you’re getting close to breaking that. 

During one riding lesson, he shows you a slightly tricky maneuver and you try to copy it but end up just slipping off the horse and falling into the sand. He runs over, asking if you’re okay. You are, the only thing injured is your pride. He chuckles when you get up, clearly unhurt. “Now you’re a real cowgirl!” he says with a laugh. “Falling off is a right of passage, sweetheart.” 

“I just lost my balance is all,” you say, brushing your jeans off. The sexual tension throughout the day has been stronger than ever. He touches your shoulder. “Maybe you need a little more practice,” he says. 

Before you can stop yourself, you’re kissing him, your arms wrapped around him. He groans against your lips and you reach down, squeezing his crotch. It immediately grows hard. Arthur pushes you away just slightly and he grabs your hand, running into the stable and into an empty stall where he stores hay and sawdust. 

As soon as he gets there, you’re attacking him. The first thing you do is rip open his shirt. Fuck, he’s even hotter than you thought. You start kissing his chest and stroking his nipples. He tips his head back as one hand wanders down to his belt and undoes it. In your desperation to see him unsheathed, you fumble with his belt. Eventually you get it undone and his pants unbuttoned. You reach in and grab him, his length already hard. His hips buck a little. 

“Hey,” he groans. “Let me give you another riding lesson.” 

You shiver and nod. He lifts up your shirt and rips it off and then unclasps your bra. He stares at your naked breasts for a moment and then you reach down and strip off your pants. Now you’re completely naked in front of him. He smiles as he studies your body and then he strips his own clothes off. 

Once you’re both exposed, he lays down on his back, his cock standing erect. He gestures down at it. “Come on, cowgirl. Time for your lesson.” 

You almost giggle at how cheesy he is, but you comply. You kneel down, straddling his hips but keeping his length away from your slit. You kind of wish there was something in the terms of foreplay. He must sense your hesitation. His hands latch onto your hips and he starts rubbing up your sides and finds your breasts. You tilt your head back as he strokes your nipples, making the already stiff nubs perk out even more. 

Eventually one hand leaves your breast and slides down between your legs. “Damn, you’re wet,” he says. You sigh in pleasure and then he slips a finger into your soaking slit, making you yelp. He tickles you, your breath picking up. You involuntarily twitch on him and then he pushes a finger into you. “Think you’re ready, cowgirl,” he says after a few moments of you fucking his hand. 

You nod and sit up a little, grabbing his stiff cock. You pump it a few times and then angle your hips directly above it, settling down onto him. He feels good as he fills you up. He goes in deep and then, without warning, he begins pushing himself in and out of you. You can’t help but moan with every push and bounce along with him, creating even more friction between the two of you. You look down at him. His cheeks are flushed and his eyes are filled with lust. He’s left his old hat on. To be expected, you suppose. You’ve never seen him with it off. 

“Come for me, sweetheart,” he growls. You gasp again as he puts his hand back to your slit, tickling your clit. He’s the first man you’ve done this who has actually taken the time to make sure you get your pleasure. 

“Keep going,” you squeak. “Oh God, Arthur, it feels good.” He stimulates you again and again, your hips wildly bucking as his cock pulses within you. He pushes himself up a little harder, brushing your spot as he slides his finger across your clit again. You clench your toes and groan loudly, turning into jelly on him. “Good girl,” he says in a deep voice. “You’re alright. Easy.” 

Just as you’re coming down and about to put yourself back together, he flips you onto your back so he can really pound himself into you. He’s going so hard you’re sure it’ll hurt in the morning, but you don’t care. He feels amazing. You clutch his back, leaving behind small scratches as he thrusts again and again, chasing his own end. After a short time, he finally pulls out and releases onto your thighs and the hay beneath you. “Shit,” he says when he’s finished spilling out. 

You cup his cheek and smile up at him. “Did I do good?” you ask. He smiles and kisses you. “I think we might need another lesson.”

[britishassistant]

But I Like One Piece (1)

She was twenty when she died.

She’d just graduated with a double first in Literature and Preservation from Exeter. She’d been accepted into a prestigious master’s school in London.

She’d moved into a basement flat with her best friend and a couple of his friends. She’d been glad to escape her childhood house, where her mum and dad traded vicious words over who was getting how much in the divorce.

She’d promised her brother she’d get him out too, once she had a stable place that the courts would approve of. She had been due to interview for a job at a big bookstore chain next week.

And then someone had broken in while her flatmates were out. She shouldn’t have grabbed the knife. That just made the armed man freak out.

The last thing she remembered was a bang, and the blubbered words “I didn’t mean to!”

She wakes up as a baby.

She waves her arms around and cries as an unfamiliar lady with brown hair and brown eyes bends down over her crib, hushing her with more urgency than is really warranted.

Rain hammers down outside and thunder rumbles directly overhead.

Then a man with blue hair and grey eyes arrives. He stinks of copper, and that makes her wail harder.

The man and woman confer, words too fast for her to understand.

Then the man gently presses a cloth which smells chemical and awful to her face, hushing and looking at her with sad eyes while the woman strokes her head.

She struggles, but eventually swirling red circles dance before her eyes and she succumbs to sleep.

She grows, and learns that she is not anywhere remotely like her home anymore.

She looks in mirrors and sees grey eyes like the man’s, brown hair like the woman’s, hair too straight, eyes too angular, skin too pale.

Her new name is Ketsugi Mayu. The woman’s name is Ketsugi Chie, the man’s is Ketsugi Jirou.

They live in a little house, on the outskirts of a village that’s nothing like the village she previously grew up in. It’s too big, too bustling, with large compounds with symbols decorating the exteriors and brightly painted buildings, flat roofs alternating with asian-style pagodas.

Faces carved into a mountainside like a bastardization of Mount Rushmore. Huge trees everywhere, though she couldn’t tell you the type. She never was any good at biology.

Her “parents” escaped to this village from the rainy place before. Both of them work, but the woman takes her with her, or comes back first.

She gets the feeling their neighbors don’t like them very much.

Despite the electricity for lights and plumbing and cooking, there are not electronic communication devices, not like she knew them. Photography, but no video or animation.

Calculators and computers are unheard of, abacus and notebooks in their place.

The food is good though. Fresh and flavorsome, with meals that are usually served in what she mentally called “plate-2-bowls” style, a bowl of rice, a bowl of soup, and a meat or vegetable dish in the center.

The woman she is supposed to call her “mother” scolded her for ages the first time she dumped the rice out of the bowl onto the plate and tried to eat it that way.

The man she is supposed to call her “father” just laughed and said how lucky they were to have a daughter who would eat everything given to her.

And she did. Even if she doesn’t like the flavors, she eats it all and leaves no scraps.

One Piece taught her that those who waste food are scum, after all. She’ll never learn how the series ended now, so she does her best to live up to the ideals of her favorite characters in its place.

She probably should’ve seen it coming in the end.

The story she was read at bedtime was called “The Tale of the Utterly Gutsy Shinobi”. There were constantly people dressed in dark clothes jumping across the roofs.

There were stalls in the market that sold throwing knives and stars and japanese swords.

But she didn’t realize exactly what world she’d been reincarnated into until she sees a little boy around her age, with blonde hair and blue eyes and three familiar lines like whisker marks across each cheek.

He’s racing away from a severe woman dripping with orange paint, cackling even as she screams, “GET BACK HERE NARUTO, YOU LITTLE DEMON!!”

She’s four, so she promptly bursts into tears and remains in a strop for the rest of the week.

Naruto doesn’t have food.

It’s dumb and doesn’t involve her and she shouldn’t care because she never even read this series because it was stupid and sexist and dumb and pirates will always be better than ninjas no matter what stupid morons on the internet who have no interpersonal relationships say—

But Naruto doesn’t have food.

She saw the food vendors at the market slap away his money, yell at him for trying to steal from them, chase him away from their stalls with rotten produce.

And he goes away empty handed.

Every. Damn. Time.

Sanji wouldn’t let him go empty handed.

Fuck.

She buys three lunch boxes and an “easy cook recipes” book from a lady who coos at her.

She buys extra rice and ingredients so that she doesn’t use up her “family’s” food.

She decides on a sweeter, more protein-focused meal for breakfast, and presses rashers of bacon and scrambled eggs between slices of crusty bread, filling the compartments with orange slices and strawberries and a plain yogurt.

For lunch she tries and fails to recreate Ketsugi Chie’s perfectly triangular rice balls filled with salmon, but consoles herself that the cucumber and seaweed salad turned out okay, To make up for it, she sticks a packet of gummies in the dessert bit.

She shadowed him the evening before, and so wakes up obscenely early, tugging on the clothes she wore yesterday.

She deposits the food outside his door, checks the sticky notes with “BREAKFAST” and “LUNCH” on them are secure.

Then she raps on the door with all the power her little fists can muster and bolts.

She’s about halfway down the street when she hears the overexcited whoops and fights to keep a smile off her face.

That night, when she comes bearing a thermos filled with miso soup and a box with rice, baked salmon with mushrooms, and dango, the other two are stacked neatly outside the door, licked clean.

She deposits dinner, grabs the other boxes, knocks again, and bolts so she can make curfew.

Here’s her routine.

She goes to bed and falls asleep instantly after preparing that boy’s breakfast and lunch.

She wakes up early and runs through the village while the streets are still asleep and deposits his food, collecting his dinner box and the feedback sheet, knocks and goes, avoiding any traps he’s set up to try and catch her on his endless quest for her identity.

They’re harmless, more intended to snare rather than hurt, and she’s gotten good at dodging.

She gets home in time for her “parents” to wake up, washes up the box while they shower, and goes upstairs to get ready for the day.

Ketsugi Jirou makes her run through katas before breakfast. Sometimes he lets her practice with the wooden sword he carries, and laughs when she falls over, kissing her bruises.

Ketsugi Chie serves breakfast and corrects her table manners and posture. After Jirou has kissed them both and left, she is given lessons in calligraphy and etiquette.

Sometimes Ketsugi Chie takes her along to her job at a tearoom, and she has to observe as her “mother” elegantly serves the patrons and makes polite conversation.

Sometimes she’s left to clean the house and study the books on the history of her family. There are many, but more are missing, references they have no source for.

At lunchtime, she reviews the feedback sheet, making notes of what worked and what didn’t.

She’s supposed to play outside after lunch, so she runs laps. Once Ketsugi Chie’s shift is over, the woman either collects her from home or goes with her straight to the market for food.

She begins making Naruto’s portion the moment groceries are put away, serves it hot and runs it over. She picks up the empty lunch boxes and paper, deposits the dinner, knocks, and runs away.

She eats dinner with her “mother” and “father”. Jirou quizzes her on what she’s learned.

After dinner she washes up the dishes and makes tomorrow’s lunch and breakfast while her parents tell her a bedtime story.

Then she cleans up after herself, and goes to bed, falling asleep instantly.

It’d be nice if this could last.

So of course, the next time she deposits breakfast and lunch, an adult dressed in black with a white mask tackles her to the ground.

She barely avoids spilling the food, clutching it to her chest with one arm as the other is twisted viciously behind her back.

She screams, tries to kick out, but her legs are too little, she can’t hurt the bastard—

The lunchboxes creak ominously under her.

“Who sent you?!” The adult hisses—there’s no way that’s not a man, not with that baritone— “Drop the henge and tell me, or I’ll—”

Something twangs.

A mass of rope drops onto them, followed by chalk dust.

“HAH!” Comes a much higher-pitched yell. “I told you I’d get ‘em, believe it, I told—wait, what the heck?! Jiji, mask-guy’s hurtin’ my friend!”

The click of a cane and the sound of an old man’s voice. “Hound-san.”

The pressure on her arm lessens and the adult gets up, though he doesn’t let go of her. She wheezes, feeling her eyes watering now she can breathe properly.

She hiccups once. Twice. Bursts into floods of noisy tears.

A blurry figure of orange comes into her view. “Hey, hey don’t cry, don’t cry! It’s okay, mask-guy won’t hurt you anymore, Jiji won’t let him, believe it! Yo-you’re the one bringin’ me the food, right? It tastes really good, believe it! M-my name’s Naruto, wh-what’s y-yours? Plea-please don’t—”

The blur of orange begins crying as well.

“Oh dear.” The old man sighs.

The old man takes them to the tower in the center of the village, drawing curious stares at the sight of two wailing children, one bleached white by chalk dust, following him.

The tower is scary. It reminds her of government buildings, with lots of people in green or grey jackets or white masks moving from one place to the next like fire ants, ready to turn and bite intruders to their nest at a moment’s notice.

She doesn’t work out who the queen ant is until the old man sits behind the big desk in the room at the top of the tower, and another mask brings her and Naruto water at his gesture.

“Now, let’s get to the bottom of this, shall we?” Says the old man, smiling genteelly.

A shiver goes down her spine.

The questions should be easy. What’s her name, how old is she, where does she live, who are her parents, where do they work, does she have any siblings, what are her hobbies.

But her tongue is stuck to the top of her mouth and when she tries to speak, she just makes a pathetic little croaking sound, no matter how much water she swallows.

The man who hurt her gets more and more tense with every failed answer.

The old man just looks sadder, like she’s failing a test, like he’s going to let the mask hurt her again—

Naruto asks, “Can you make ramen?”

She swallows. “I—I’ve never had it. I don’t know the ingredients. Is, is it like miso?”

“It’s WAY better than miso, believe it!” Naruto yells. “It’s got noodles and green onions and fish cakes and pork and tofu and chicken and fish and seaweed, and sometimes the broth can taste like miso but better and sometimes it can be spicy and Ichiraku’s is the best, and I’ll take you there so you can have some, believe it!”

She frowns. “How can it have pork and chicken and fish? That doesn’t work. Those meats go with different flavors—like chicken katsu and pork katsu are served with different toppings.”

He blows a raspberry. “They’re not all in the same bowl at one time! There’s different types.”

Her mind ticks over the possibilities. “...So a dashi broth for miso could work? What type of flour are the noodles?”

He shrugs. “I’unno. There’s different types?”

“Of course there are!” And she tells him about wheat vs buckwheat vs rye vs rice flour, and how flour mixed with water can serve as food in a pinch but isn’t sustainable for him because he’s malnourished—

“I’m not mal-no-ished, believe it!” Naruto protests.

She scoffs. “Don’t be stupid. Look, try to touch your thumb and pointer finger around your wrist.”

He looks at her warily, but does as she says easily. There’s enough space between his hand and his wrist that she could wriggle her little finger in there, if she tried.

“See?” She says, holding up her own wrist where her thumb can’t quite reach her finger. “You’re too skinny, because you don’t eat enough. You need to bulk up, and eat to get your vitamins, or you’ll grow up weak and feeble.”

The boy pouts. “S’not my fault the stupid jerkwads in the market won’t sell to me.” He grumbles.

“No, it isn’t.” She replies. “But they sell to me. And those who let people go hungry are scum.”

There’s a wounded noise. She looks up at the forgotten adults, tensing again.

The masked man has vanished. The old man just looks tired, but also...happy?

The old man walks her and Naruto home, and she glimpses many more white masks in the trees. The idea that any one could hurt her at any time has her trembling, fists clenched.

“What’s your name, anyway?” Naruto asks, clutching his lunchboxes close.

“Mayu.” She replies after a moment’s hesitation. “Ketsugi Mayu. I’m five and ten months.”

“I’m Uzumaki Naruto and I’m six, believe it!” He cheers. “Imma be the Hokage one day and take over from Jiji, believe it!”

She frowns up at the old man. “What’s a hokage?”

He laughs. “It’s the ninja entrusted with the safety of the village and all those within. The Hokage specifically is the leader of this Village Hidden in the Leaves, Konoha.”

She looks around.

“This place is way too big to be a village, no matter how you look at it.”

Her parents burst out the door just as they arrive at her house, her father clutching his bokken, her mother still in nightclothes.

They blanch when they see her, the woman reaching out with an abortive hand.

The Hokage bows to them. “Ketsugi-san.” He says. “May I congratulate you on raising such a fine daughter?”

Ketsugi Jirou bows hesitantly back, eyes not leaving her. He has to press a hand to Chie’s shoulder to get her to do the same. “You honor us, Hokage-sama.”

The Hokage smiles and gently pushes her. She totters forward and is swiftly captured in a crushing hug, both adults muttering “Mayu, Mayu.” Like she’ll disappear if they let go.

Her eyes begin watering again, because she’s escaped. She’s safe. For now.

“Otou-sama.” She whimpers. “Okaa-sama.”

She mentally apologizes to her parents in her past life, and the brother she left behind. In their memory, her new family will remain “Otou” and “Okaa”, never “Mummy” and “Daddy”.

“OI, MAYU-CHAN!!”

She half-turns in the hug, sees Naruto and the Hokage some distance away.

“COME GET RAMEN WITH ME TOMORROW!! ICHIRAKU'S IS THE BEST, BELIEVE IT!!” He yells, with far too much volume.

She sniffles. There’s something wrong with Naruto. He lives alone and borderline starves, but the ruler of this village visits him enough that he calls the man “jiji”. People in the street call him “demon” and “monster” openly, but the masked man attacked her for approaching him.

The smart thing to do would be turn him down politely. Thank you, but no thank you. She’s his food provider, she’s not under any obligation to be his friend.

So, of course, she yells back, “EAT YOUR FOOD AND I'LL BE THERE!”

He pumps his fist and whoops, cheering loudly as the Hokage smiles and guides him away.

Mayu Ketsugi and her parents tense as the accusing, silent stares pierce them.

The neighbors never liked them much anyway.