#i was hoping shed do a voice over and have the same 'cooking show' feel but with soap making like a youtube soap making tutorial

[plinchy]

Absolutely in love with the way Marcille's Japanese VA is portraying her. Her cute "OISHII" to say the foods good to screaming "NOO"/"I DON'T WANNA" from her fucking gut. ugh its so good it makes my face hurt

[imagining-in-the-margins]

The Mother Wound (S.R.)

Summary: Spencer and Reader bond over having emotionally absent mothers. Request: reader has an abusive parent and she has developed ptsd from that A/N: Written for a very dear friend of mine, and anyone else who needs to hear it. This is also my entry to @foxy-eva’s Celebration Challenge (prompt “Overcoming Trauma”)! Be sure to show her some love! Couple: Spencer Reid/GN!Reader (also consistent with platonic love) Category: Angst/Comfort Content Warning: Mother’s Day, strained parent & child relationship, implied no contact (with mother), implied mental or physical abuse (from father), crying, feelings of shame Word Count: 2.5k

MASTERLIST

I didn’t go home for Mother’s Day.

I knew that I was supposed to, but I didn’t. Instead, I stayed exactly where I was. Some might say it was inertia, but I knew better. There was no real excuse for violating the duty granted to me by nature of having been born.

But at least I wasn’t the only one.

The case that had almost served as an excuse was both local and over. It ended with serendipitous timing that allowed almost everyone else to scurry home in time for an attempt at recreating a home cooked meal for the woman that taught them… well, everything.

Spencer stayed with me. He called his mother, though.

As I sat on the park bench overlooking the lake, I turned back to see him with his phone still pressed against his ear. Even from where I was sitting, I could make out his knitted brow. It felt too intimate for my tired heart to handle, and so I turned away.

Sort of like how I was avoiding my mother.

My insides twisted and their rioting made my bones rattle. It felt as though my body was tearing in two in protest of my failure to acknowledge its creation.

I breathed in, slowly but with a trembling lip.  I breathed out much quicker, like a swift punch to the gut that left me doubled over.

When I brought my hands to my face, I felt the wetness of freshly shed tears. I looked up at the water, resting and rippling reflections of the universe and I wondered how many oceans I could fill with this feeling.

“Hey, are you ready to go?”

Spencer’s voice tore me mercifully from the thought.

“Hey,” I said as I sat up.

My hands were still over my eyes, rubbing constellations against damp eyelids and hoping that the red would quickly fade.

“Sure, we can go,” I tried to assure him when I finally turned to face him.

But Spencer, that sweet boy with his wringing fingers and always-averted gaze looked directly into my eyes—endless oceans of grief with a relentless rip current of rage. 

He said nothing. Behind us, the frogs and crickets sang a raucous symphony that sounded nothing like a good mother’s tongue.

After a moment, I realized how little time had passed.

“Did your mom not answer your call?”

“No, she did,” he said with a curt shake of his head. Then, with more broken movements he tried to explain, “She just uh…”

I stared back. His eyes fell away, turning towards the lake as his face stretched into a strained smile.

“She’s having a bad day,” he said.

“I’m sorry,” I offered.

“It’s alright,” he refused. 

So, we stayed, both filled to the brim with inertia borne from the same shame.

That was, until he asked, “Can I sit with you?”

“Yeah, of course.”

The bench was big enough that I hadn’t needed to move to make room for him, but I did it, anyway. I shrunk into myself exactly the way my mother had taught me to do.

Spencer watched me as I withered. Through my peripherals, I watched him struggle against the same instinct.

But then he gave a small act of courage, the trembling of a hand splayed against a bench, the demand to take up space.

It made my heart ache.

“I’m having a bad day, too,” I told him.

Spencer smiled.

“That’s alright,” he shrugged.

My mouth dropped open and stayed there. I silently wondered how many years of suffering it must’ve taken to grow muscles capable of letting go, of feeling badly freely.

“Truthfully, I’ve never really liked Mother’s Day,” he sighed. “It always felt… forced. If not slightly resentful, even.”

What cruel words they were, like a twist of a knife in already knotted insides.

It was an irresponsible thing to say, a horribly upsetting suggestion that I understood with such fury that tears poured down my cheeks with no warning. Again, I fell forward, caught by my own hands that tried to stifle the sobbing. 

“Oh, I’m sorry!” he shouted.

Then, with a voice like a child, he begged me to believe him.

“I-I didn’t mean to…”

“It’s not your fault,” I said. I even surprised myself with a laugh and an uncharacteristic level of introspection. “I just… I relate a little too much to what you just said.”

“I’m still sorry,” he offered.

“It’s fine,” I refused.

We sat together in the suffocating darkness until one of us found the courage to speak again.

It was him first.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No, not really,” I said.

My courage followed slightly later, with the word ‘yes’ fighting through my throat.

Eventually, it came out as a weak and broken, “Maybe.”

Spencer’s eyes scanned my features while I looked up at the lake.

“I’ve been told I’m a very good listener when I manage to be quiet,” he deadpanned.

I laughed. It tasted bitter like the words bottled inside of my chest. It sounded bitter like the way my mother never could compliment me without a condition.

“I just feel terrible saying it all today, of all days,” I sighed. My hands fell back to my lap, abandoning any hope that I could hide my weakness from his eyes.

In an unexpected and swift motion, Spencer moved closer. His body radiated warmth and the faint but familiar smell of a better home.

Without any attempt at hiding or quieting his voice, he chuckled, “I promise you, anything bad you could say about your mother, I’ve thought worse.”

I scoffed, but it didn’t dissuade him.

“I doubt that very much,” I explained.

But he was persistent.

“I mean it.”

Almost enough for me to believe him.

Our eyes locked. Mine, slightly squinted as I tried to find hidden meaning. His, wide eyed and innocent, as though he’d done nothing wrong at all.

“What if I told you that… I was relieved when she hung up on me?” he said, further betraying those eyes. “I spent the whole day dreading that phone call, and I barely managed to smile until I heard the dial tone.”

So simple, so sure that he’d done nothing wrong. I was inclined to believe him.

“What would you think about me?” he asked, “Would you think I was awful?”

“No,” I admitted.

His saturnine smile didn’t wane, but it trembled with both pride and pain.

“I agree,” he said. “Your turn.”

“I-I don’t know what to say.”

It had been close enough to the truth that I couldn’t call it a lie—but Spencer didn’t believe it. He spared me the humiliation of saying that, though.

Instead, he took my hand. His grip was soft and warm despite the springtime chill, exactly like his eyes. He looked at me with such reverence that I felt compelled to hide.

He didn’t let me do that, either.

“Try,” he said instead, “For me.”

He didn’t let go when my fingers twitched in his grip. Again, the seemingly small act of bravery—the daring to hold me even when my hands grew clammy and harder to love—felt like a balm over a bullet wound bleeding harsh words.

I took a deep breath before I spoke.

“I don’t know what to say about my mother because I don’t think I’ve ever had one. I don’t think I really know the woman who made me and I’m not sure I ever will.”

Spencer didn't move. Not even a nod.

Quieter then, with waning confidence, I cried, “I’m not sure if I would even want to know her. But then I say that out loud and I know I’m lying like she always said I was.” 

A sob shook my body and I almost pulled away. Spencer was caught off guard by the sudden jerk, but his grip tightened like he saw how ready I was to bolt.

“Being confused isn’t the same as lying,” he offered.

“It doesn’t matter,” I refused.

So did he.

“It matters,” he insisted. “It matters to me.”

I tried to scoff but I choked on the sound. My free hand clutched at my chest like it could stop the way my heart was tearing in two.

I should have known better, though. How could my heart break in half when it was never whole to begin with?

As I fell back against the bench, Spencer’s grip loosened. He would’ve withdrawn completely if I hadn’t stopped him by squeezing tighter.

He settled, too. We both relaxed against worn wood and shivered from Winter’s dying breath.

“Sometimes it feels like there is this… ache inside of me,” I whispered along the whistling wind, “No matter how much I try to bury it over the years, I can’t seem to shake it. It’s like…. It’s like I can feel her. This version of myself that was never allowed to be.”

I held my hand out like an offering to the lake. I stared at a calloused palm l long enough for it to tremble under the weight of nothing.

“When you’re a child, all you want is a mother. Your mother,” I cried as my offering turned to a fist, “You crave it so badly, that reassurance, that comfort, that… unconditional love.”

Spencer looked down at his own scarred palm.

“Yeah,” he muttered, “you’re right.”

I wanted to pause, to let him speak and hear what he might have to offer from the safety of the other side of this suffering.

Yet when I spoke again, I swore I saw him shrinking away.

“They say when you grow up with an angry man in your house, you will always find him in your house, no matter how far from him you run. And they’re right. They…”

I turned to find him with furrowed brows pointed at the ground. I watched the breath come to him just to leave him again.

I recognized the signs of a heavy heart. Deciding that spilling half of my heart would be enough for now, I swallowed the words about my father. I turned back to my mother at the same time Spencer turned back to me.

“I never expected anything else from my father. But next to him, in front of him, in the space between the two of us, where my mother was meant to be, there is…”

“Nothing,” he finished for me.

“Exactly,” I croaked.

I wasn’t sure how I had any breath left, much less painful, beautiful words to try to fill the black hole where there was once an umbilical cord.

“I can feel it,” I muttered, “I can feel the lack of her like an insatiable hunger that feels… exactly like my father.”

I squeezed his hand. Tighter with each passing word, waiting to see how much of my rage he was willing to endure before I became unlovable.

“That child inside of me is made of monsters without mothers. I am, at my core, half-empty,” I nearly yelled, gripping him so tightly that I swore I felt my own muscles tearing, “and I don’t know how the fuck I’m supposed to fix that without a mother to teach me how!”

I gasped. My hand let go, flew away from him as I collapsed forward once more. I held myself with that same cruelty—digging nails into skin that looked both too much and not enough like my mother.

To my surprise, Spencer scrambled forward, but he didn’t pry me apart. Instead, he wrapped careful arms around me until he felt the full weight of my grief.

He cradled my head against his chest with trembling hands. I could see angry red welts where my fingers had been, and it only made me cry harder.

I wept shamelessly, clinging to him with tainted hands and half of a heart.

He said nothing and it sounded nothing like my mother’s silence.

Eventually, I came to join him in the liminal space between our suffering.

“I’m afraid I’m going to be angry forever,” I whispered.

“You won’t,” he answered in a way that sounded a lot like a lie. A half-truth, an almost abandoned hope.

He saw how badly I wanted to challenge the notion. He knew he couldn’t promise me peace, so he abandoned the hoping and returned his energy to holding me instead.

“I wish I had all the answers,” he said, and for the first time, I heard his voice shake.  “I’ve spent a lifetime searching for something to help me calm that crying child and I just…”

Our bodies rocked with the soft rippling before us. Spencer’s tears dripped onto my chest and I realized no number of oceans could ever contain this feeling.

“I know,” he blubbered. “I know how it hurts. I know how terrifying it is to grow up with the full knowledge of how cruel the world can be, and it isn’t fair that you had to wait this long.”

How long, I wondered, how long does one have to suffer to be able to admit it wasn’t fair?

I bore witness to his final act of courage. I looked at him, saw him, saw the reflection of my fear and shame as it slid down his cheeks.

“I know that no one can completely fill that empty space,” he sniffled.

Slowly, he lifted heavy eyelids. Our eyes found each other once more, and he chuckled at the sight of himself in my eyes.

“But I can try,” he said with a shrug. “I can try to make it smaller. Because I know where to stand and how to hold you. I can bring a flashlight and beautiful things to try to drown out the darkness just a little.”

I bit down on my lip but it slipped away. With it came the secret still kept tightly against my chest.

“I’m scared,” I offered.

“I know,” he accepted. 

Tired, trembling arms held me higher. He pulled me from the wreckage until my arms fell around her shoulders and my face buried against his neck.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered, “We’re gonna make it. I promise.”

In my own radical act of bravery, I allowed myself to believe it. I closed my eyes and I held him, too. With an equal amount of bravery, he let me.

And within the comfort of that embrace, I found a memory that didn’t exist; a vision between the kaleidoscope of colors behind closed eyes.

There were two children adorned with capes made of old curtains and a flashlight strapped to their heads. Their hands were tightly clasped and clammy, like kids’ hands always were. But his grip was strong and steady and neither of them felt scared.

The beams of light fought through thickets of darkness ahead of them.

“Are you ready?” he said through a bucktoothed grin.

He takes a step forward and they both notice how the light travels further with every step.

“Yeah,” the small child inside me says without a tremble in their voice, “let’s go home.”

They couldn’t know where they were going but they didn’t let it stop them. The trek was long and the journey was difficult, but it was made easier by the company of a friend.

With clammy hands tightly clasped, they tried to make their way through the darkness to that storied place where nothing bad happened.

I didn't go home for Mother's day.

And nothing bad happened.

(Tell me what you thought about this fic here!)

Looking for more to read? Check out my CM Father's Day Rec List here! It has SFW and NSFW categories.

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[cower-before-power]

Piety

Summary: Gojo has sinned, and he will repent at the altar of his beloved

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x F!Reader

TW: swearing, implied sexual content, idolatry

Link to A03 here

A/N: First time writing for everyone’s favourite sensei, hope I did him justice. This man can step on me. Enjoy, sweet potatoes!

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“You’re late.”

He laughs softly from the doorway. “I told you I would be.”

“I know,” you say, your eyes focused on the rising moon out the window. “But you’ve always said I was the exception.”

“You are,” you can hear walk over to the closet; next, the rustling of clothes as he sheds his uniform. “But Yuuji-kun is doing so well I got overexcited and just had to stay a bit longer. When I was finished with him, I was planning on rushing straight home to you, but then I ran into my other darling first years. They wanted me to watch them fight. Their training for the exchange is coming along nicely too.”

“Hmmmmm,” you hum, rocking on your heels, “good reasons to be late, I suppose.”

You can’t help but let a little irritation creep into your voice. You’re not angry with him, not truly, but you can’t help be a little annoyed. Your lives were so busy it was often hard to find time to actually act like a couple. The two of you had set aside tonight to finally go out together, a real date. You’d made reservations at a fancy restaurant and even got dressed up for once. Not that you didn’t love your late night routine of takeout, Netflix and sex, but it was nice every once and a while to get out.

To pretend everything was normal. To pretend you were normal.

So when he texted you that he was sorry but things came up, could you please cancel the reservation-you couldn’t help but feel....cast aside.

You loved Gojo’s dedication to his students and his passion for his cause. You were proud of his strength, his powers. But sometimes it felt like you were a planet orbiting around his brilliant sun, competing with all the others for his warmth and light. He was the best, and was always needed by someone somewhere. You knew it was what you were in for when you put your heart in his hands, but it was still sometimes a bitter pill to swallow.

“You’re upset with me,” he says, and you finally turn to face him. He’s out of his uniform and only in a pair of dark sweatpants; your favourite look. You have a strong urge to run to him and bury yourself in his chest. You stay put.

“No not at you, per say,” you run your hands through your hair, taking out the style you’d coaxed it into earlier. “Just at life, I guess. Things are always crazy around here, but they seem to be getting even wilder and it just makes it even harder for us to spend quality time together.”

“You’ve never complained before.”

You sigh, tugging at the straps of your dress. “I know, I know. I’m just in a mood today, I guess. I was really looking forward to going out, and when you texted me, I just felt, I don’t know, shuffled aside.”

He stays quiet, face unreadable. It’s unusual and quite frankly rather unsettling. You feel guilt suddenly bubble hotly in your stomach.

“I mean, it’s fine! What you were doing was very important! Yuuji needs all the training he can get, poor boy. Plus, Megumi and Nobara miss you, they’ve noticed you haven’t been around a lot and they probably just wanted to see you be proud of them, even if they’ll never admit it. I’m being silly, I mean, who cares if we missed the reservation, the students and their training is definitely more important than going out with me-“

Your words die on your lips as you find yourself suddenly pressed flush against the chest you were just admiring moments earlier. You blink and gasp-bright blue eyes are staring intently down into yours. It always stuns you momentarily to see them. They are like sapphires; not only beautiful in shine and hue, but rare and precious. They only show up when he’s feeling particularly loving and mushy, or the very limited occasions when he gets serious.

You have a feeling it’s the latter.

“What have I told you about being too kind, angel?” He scolds you, shaking his head as he cups your face in his large, warm hands. “Just come out and say I’m the asshole here.”

“But-“

“Hush now,” his voice grows stern, the tone he uses when he’s got you at his mercy. You obey on instinct, snapping your lips shut. “I shouldn’t have stayed so long at school, and I definitely shouldn’t have assumed that cancelling would be okay without asking. I’ve never, ever wanted you to feel like you’re playing second string, and I’ve gone and done just that.”

You frown. “I don’t feel like that all the time, please don’t think I-“

“Once is one time too many,” he interrupts. His fingers smooth over your skin, stroking the frown from your face. “I clearly fucked up. I let my angel, my reason to live, my sweet darling thief who stole my heart, down.”

(You feel warm. So he is feeling mushy as well as serious.)

He replaces his fingers with his lips, featherlight brushes over your skin that make your knees begin to wobble. “It’s okay,” you breathe, eyes slipping shut so he can kiss your eyelids gently. “You didn’t mean to.”

He laughs. “Sweetness, you are shit at being mad at someone. This is the part where you call me a prick and make me grovel for forgiveness.”

“You’ve never groveled in your life,” you hum. The irritation you’d been feeling earlier is melting away under his gentle ministrations. He hadn’t meant to hurt you. He sometimes forgets the two of you didn’t always operate on the same wavelength. He sometimes forgets that everyone didn’t operate on his wavelength.

“Another exception I’d make for you,” he nibbles at your bottom lip, and you can’t help but chase him, trying to catch him in a proper kiss. He just laughs and sweeps a thumb over where he’s just nipped. “I’ll even get on my knees.”

The image of the worlds most powerful shaman on his knees before you sends a shiver up your spine. And the perceptive bastard doesn’t miss it. He pulls away, peeling himself from your body with a sticky slowness that causes the air around you to heat and thicken. He sinks to his knees before you, palms upturned in perfect piety.

“Oh goddess divine, please accept my humble apologies,” the words drip from his lips like a sacred prayer. “I have displeased you, and I seek to make amends.”

“Only you could apologize and make fun of someone at the same time,” you murmer, feeling your cheeks begin to flush. “You’re an idiot.”

“An idiot who only wishes to repent for his sins,” he grins lazily up at you, and his upturned hands are suddenly on your legs, beneath your dress. His thumbs begin to rub circles on your inner thighs. Time stops; your next breath lodges in your throat.

“Tell me what I must do,” his voice is smooth like the silk of his blindfold, slipping over you. He leans in and presses a kiss just above your right knee. His mouth is hot against your skin.

“Ummmm....” you try to speak, but nothing comes out but a choked whimper.

“I’m waiting very patiently,” another kiss, this time slightly higher. Your brain begins to malfunction. You open and close your mouth, trying to get the words out, but there’s nothing. Nothing but his warm breath and deft hands. Nothing but crystalline blue darkened with hunger. Nothing but need beginning to boil in your blood.

“I’ll just have to decide the form of atonement myself,” he murmurs, skimming his nose along your inner thigh. His hands slowly slide up your legs, your dress is coming up with them....

And then you both hear it.

The loud grumbling of your very empty belly.

He pulls back and blinks up at you. You stare back, mouth open. And then you both burst into raucous laughter.

“What a mood killer,” he grins, sitting back on his heels. “I’ve never been cockblocked by your stomach before.”

“Sorry!” You rub the offending area, still giggling. “I guess in all my stewing I forgot I was hungry.”

He’s on his feet in a flash. “Well we can’t have you starve on me, can we, sweetness? I know, how about I cook for us?”

Your eyes light up. Gojo is an excellent cook, but he rarely does it due to his busy and exhausting schedule. And his bad habit of filling up on sweets. “Really?”

“Sure,” he’s already across the room, throwing on a shirt and his blindfold. “Tell you what, you go have a nice hot soak in the tub while I cook. I’ll bring you a glass of wine and something from my extra secret sweets stash to tide you over till I’m done.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Something from the secret stash? I’m honoured.”

He grins. “Another exception for my angel.” He suddenly claps his hands together. “Oh, and tomorrow we’ll play hookey! Go to Tokyo for the whole day, and I’ll spoil the absolute shit out of you. The kids can survive a day without us.”

“You already spoil me,” you laugh, shaking your head. “I’ll just be happy to spend a whole day just us.”

“No arguments!” He wags his finger. “I will drop mad cash on you and you will enjoy it.”

“Ugh you are such a dork,” you roll your eyes, but your heart fills with love for this silly man. You know he really is sorry and is trying to make it up to you. He’s an idiot on occasions, but he’s your idiot, and you wouldn’t trade him for the world.

You make to move towards the bathroom, but the lingering feel of his touch on your skin reminds you.

“Hey, what happens after the bath and food?”

Before you can blink, he’s back in front of you, gathering you against him. His smile is absolutely feral, and you can feel his smouldering gaze even through the black fabric now covering his eyes.

And his lips are descending on yours, hot and hungry. He licks into your mouth, swallowing the moan that’s threatening to escape. There’s nothing left but him. His touch, his taste, his scent. He is everywhere, in every sweep and valley of your body, in every corner of your pounding heart. He consumes you like fire consumes a forest, and you are happy to burn, burn, burn.

All too soon he pulls away, and you are left empty. Bereft. Lost. But he leans back in, his lips brushing your ear, his voice dark with reverent desire.

“I’ll worship at the altar of my divine goddess until my penance is paid a hundred fold.”

[halstudandruz]

Gentleman in the Streets, Freak in the Sheets (NSFW)

*Not my gif*

Pairing: Kelly Severide x Reader

Requested: Yes

Prompt: Kelly gets fed up when you tease him at work all shift (Dominate, kinda rough Kelly smut)

Warnings: Smut (18+), daddy kink, breeding kink¿, swearing

A/N: Anyone else find the gif incredibly sexy? Also, proof skimmed at 4am so don’t judge typos 😅

It was a quiet day in the firehouse. Ambulance 61 only running a few calls and everyone else passing the time by running drills or checking equipment. You had offered to make dinner, wanting to give Ritter and Gallo a break for once. You were far from a candidate, but you weren’t “all in” on the candidate hazing per say. They needed a break every once in a while too. Especially when trying to cook three meals a day for the pickiest men in Chicago. You were trying to decide how to marinate the chicken when your boyfriend walked into the lounge headed straight for the kitchen.

“You cooking tonight?” He asked when he spotted you in front of the stove. Watching you nod, he chuckled.

“You know we have candidates for that.” He teased.

“Yeah yeah I know, I also don’t care.” You retorted, having already had this talk before. “Hey! What are you doing?” You scolded as you watched him open up a cupboard digging through it.

“Getting chips.” He answered, nonchalantly.

“I’m making food!” You reminded him.

“And I will eat it, but I need something to hold me off in the meantime.” He replied, rolling your eyes, you turned back to the task. “Okay spices.” You thought out loud moving towards the cabinet Kelly was still digging through. Registering in your head that there was nobody else around except Mouch who was loudly snoring on the couch. Smirking you took the few steps towards your needed ingredients.

“Excuse me.” You mumbled slipping in front of Kelly where he was trying to reach something from

the back of the top shelf. Pushing yourself up on your tippy toes you attempted to grab spices off the bottom shelf, pushing your butt out to put pressure against his crotch before slowly moving back down on the heels of your feet, smiling effectively to yourself when you felt Kelly immediately tense above you swallowing a low groan, trying again and eliciting the same reaction. “I can’t reach it. Could you hand me that cayenne pepper?” You asked sweetly pointing to it, witnessing a pink tint appear across his cheeks, still pressed tightly against you, clenching his jaw when you wiggled your hips back against his. Tightly gripping the container he handed it to you. “Thank you, lieutenant.” You grinned sliding out from in front of him to make your way towards the counter. It wasn’t but two seconds before Kelly had you trapped up against the counter. Breathing heavy in your ear goosebumps traveling down your body at the warmth of his breath.

“You think you’re so sly. Such a little tease, trying to make daddy rock hard.” Kelly leaned over your back pushing his hips into your spine where you felt an obvious bulge. “You’re just giving me an invitation to bend you right over this counter and use you.” Kelly whispered into your ear as you started to chop up the celery coming centimeters away from chopping off your finger at his words. It had been a few days since you had sex and you knew you both were craving each other. When the sound of footsteps heading for you became clear he sprung away putting a respectable amount of space between the two of you.

“Is anybody making dinner around here?” Herrmann asked, appearing from the apparatus floor, Stella in tow behind him.

“Yeah, working on it.” You assured him watching Kelly retrieve a bag of chips and head towards the bunk room, cool relaxed demeanor drifting back over him. He was always better at hiding things than you, and this was likely a game you were going to lose at, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

You and Kelly had dated for awhile before accepting that the pressures of the job was starting to take a toll on your relationship. In order to healthily deal with your issues separately you decided to take a break, knowing that you would likely eventually end up back together, or at least hoping so. It was hard at first especially after finding out he had had a brief fling with Stella, one of your best friends in the house, but you had gotten through it and had been back together for a couple months. Nobody else in the house knew though, except Matt who you frequently ran into every morning in his kitchen.

You had taken plenty of opportunities to tease Kelly throughout the rest of the shift. Sending him dirty texts, accidentally running into him in the shower, innocently flirting with Gallo just to get a rise.

“Oh sorry are you almost done?” You asked sweetly watching Kelly shift his clothes from the washer to the dryer.

“Be my guest.” He moved out of the way for you to move towards the washer starting to throw your clothes into it when you heard him clear his throat. Turning you cocked your head when you saw him holding one of your thongs on his pointer finger. “Oops must’ve dropped that.” You played innocently, taking it from him to drop it into the machine feeling the heat of his body crowd you.

“What has gotten into you today?” He questioned, gripping your hips.

“I don’t know what you mean.” You bit your lip blinking up at him.

“Oh so you really were just interested in Gallo’s new workout regimen?” He smirked, pushing you completely against the washer.

“Kid’s looking swole what can I say?” You giggled.

“You must really want me to take you right here, Kitten.” He shook his head, lips moving centimeters away from yours. You hummed, waiting for him to make contact, but he never did. “Say it. Tell me.” He challenged right hand moving up to your bare stomach, finger pulling at the top of your pants.

“I want you.” You admitted and you could feel him smile against your own lips.

“How bad?” He encouraged, popping the button of your pants open, fingers inching further south.

“So bad.” You assured, moaning when the pad of his finger came in contact with your clit, his mouth muting the sound. You relaxed letting the pleasure seep into your body. Whimpering when one of his fingers pushed into you. Your own fingers were nothing compared to his and it had been too long since you felt them. Bracing yourself against his chest when he added another, thrusting them in and out.

“Fuck, Kel. Someone could walk in.” You reminded him trying to keep a clear head, that was very quickly fading.

“Let them. They can watch and see how wet and desperate I make you while fingering your little pussy. Then they can imagine what I do to you with my cock.” He whispered into your ear, causing your knees to buckle below you.

“Oh my god.” You breathed out when his thumb began to flick against your clit synchronizing with his thrusts, his dirty talk was always out of this world. You felt your legs begin to shake, head falling into your boyfriend’s chest, sharp breaths coming out just as the knot unraveled in your stomach. Kelly’s free hand wrapping around your waist to steady you. He waited for you to gain control of your balance again before removing his hands away from you.

“This is far from over.” Kelly kissed your sweaty forehead before retreating leaving you a disheveled mess. You left him alone for the rest of the night knowing if you went near him you were going to cave and this time you would be sure to be caught.

You had turned a boring shift into an entertaining one and you loved watching him squirm.

Unfortunately, you hadn’t gotten much sleep having run calls almost all night, one after the other, and you were so ready to fall into your big soft bed you had even forgotten about the game you were playing with your boyfriend. Up until you walked into your apartment. Dropping your bag to the floor you kicked off your shoes barely registering Kelly close behind you until he tugged on your wrist, taking you off balance causing you to fall right into him, his hard body insistently igniting a spark within you. His hands gripped your face bringing you in for a heated kiss, one that had you leaning back against the door almost immediately.

“Mmm.” You hummed, starting to feel your body summon a second wind.

“Are you too tired? Cause we can do this later.” Kelly pulled away to ask you sincerely, palm cupping your face.

“You seem to have woken me back up.” You chuckled arms circling around his neck to pull him back down to you, tongue joining his, gripping the bottom of his shirt you broke the kiss to tug it over his head.

“Don’t worry you have me so fucking horny this isn’t gonna take long.” He laughed unbuttoning your jeans as he licked across your jaw.

“I don’t know if Matt’s gonna want to see our clothes all over the floor.” You joked, stepping out of your jeans as he pushed them down.

“I asked him to give me an hour or two.” Kelly shrugged a cocky tone in his voice causing you to roll your eyes.

“It’s his apartment too.” You pointed out, shedding yourself of your shirt and bra, as Kelly tossed his jeans to the side.

“He can come home if he wants to, he just may regret it. Which is exactly what I told him.” Kelly replied, taking two steps towards you to throw you over his shoulder.

“Kelly!” You giggled unexpectedly.

“Shh we’re on a time limit.” He smacked your ass and you could hear the smile in his voice as he walked you towards your bedroom. Dropping you at the edge of the bed quickly covering the length of your body with his capturing your breasts in his hands, mouthing at your right nipple. Before his hands moved to explore all the parts of your body. The small pleasure sending goosebumps down your body. “You’ve been teasing daddy at work all shift. What if Herrmann or Stella would’ve seen you wiggling this perfect little ass against my crotch?” Kneading it into his palms. “Would you have liked that? Showing everyone how worked up you can get me? How hard you make me just by looking at you?” Kelly growled nibbling down your neck.

“Stella maybe.” You mumbled, causing him to chuckle.

“Jealous?” He inquired.

“Possessive.” You responded, squeezing his crotch for emphasis.

“She’s got nothing on you baby girl.” He promised, picking you up enough to lay you down. higher on your bed. “You have me so pent up you know that?” He rolled his hips down on yours thin fabric covering each of you, so you could clearly feel his full bulge, a soft moan escaping your lips at the action. Kelly smirked above you at the sound.

“You want it so bad don't you? You want daddy to fill you up good huh baby girl?” He taunted fingertips running up and down your thighs. You clenched your jaw trying to keep your hips firm against the bed not wanting to give into him so easily. “Awe come on. You know you love when I talk dirty to you. You tell me all the time, and I bet if I just move my hand a little south it’ll do all the talking for you.” He teased finger snapping the waistband of your underwear“Just tell me how bad you want this cock sweetheart. How you are soaking through your panties right now just thinking about it.” He continued hand very steadily moving closer to what you knew was going to be a pool of liquid between your legs. “And I will rock your world.” He promised biting hard at your collarbone just as his fingers met your clothed center, accompanied by a loud moan involuntarily filling the room. “Would you look at that?” He brought his glistening fingers up in front of your face, but you remained quiet chewing on your lips. “Oh so that’s how we’re gonna be today?” He raised an eyebrow before backing away from you, “you can get yourself ready then, or you’re not getting any.” He commanded.

“No, wait I’m sorry come-“ You started to reach for him but he leaned farther away.

“Your choice.” He smiled widely at you.

“Whatever, fine.” You pouted, you could certainly make this as torturous for him as it was for you. Slowly sliding your panties down your legs. “Oh hey you weren’t kidding, they are soaked.” You laughed, jokingly before throwing them at Kelly’s face. Spreading your legs wide for him to see fingers grasping your nipples first rolling them between your thumb and forefingers. Hips rolling at the feeling that warmed your body. Bringing your hand up to your mouth you made a show of your lips sucking two of your fingers, tongue circling around them humming a small moan that could still be clearly heard in the room. Hand trailing leisurely down your body. You could hear Kelly’s breath hitching as your hand connected with your center purposely moaning loudly enough to fill the apartment putting pressure against your clit. Finger teasingly sliding across your own entrance before circling it again. You could feel the juices starting to drip down your legs, getting impossibly wetter at Kelly’s dark eyes watching your every move. “Oh god.” You groaned, pushing in a single finger thrusting your finger up towards your stomach. Giving more attention to your clit before adding a second finger. “Yes, fuck yes.” You breathed hips pushing down towards your palm when you curled your fingers towards your g-spot already wishing it was Kelly’s dick.

“That’s it baby, play with your wet little pussy so daddy can watch. Such a pretty cunt.” Kelly praised. You hadn’t even realized your eyes had closed shut until you had opened them met with the sight of Kelly’s hand lazily stroking his fully hard shaft.

“Daddy..please.” You begged.

“What do you want sweetheart? Tell me.” He ordered eyes locked with yours.

“You to fuck me so hard I won’t be able to walk for days.” You whined hips still desperately moving with your hand. Kelly appeared back on top of you in seconds.

“Daddy’s ready to take such a long sexually frustrating day out on your perfect little cunt.” He teased nipping your earlobe as he lightly rubbed the tip of his dick between your folds. Slowly pushing his hips forward, your pussy immediately taking him in. “God baby you’re so fucking tight. How can you be this fucking wet and still so tight?” He growled, breaths coming out heavier as he continued to move forward waiting for you to loosen up for him. Focusing on the smell of him so close to you, the quiet little growls, the warmth of his body right against you had you relaxing quickly the pain of the intrusion subsiding within seconds.

“Move Kelly.” You encouraged him, digging the heels of your feet into the bottom of his back trying to pull him even deeper.

“Ah ah ah,” Kelly grabbed ahold of your hands pinning them above your head, “you’re here for daddy’s pleasure right now kitten.” He reminded you with a slow roll of his hips causing you to whimper. His hips moving in slow deliberate circles before thrusting hard all the way in you.

“Fuck!” You screamed, head falling back into the pillows. Your legs falling wider apart when he started moving in a steady rhythm. Quickly finding your soft spot, knowing your body inside and out. “There.” You informed him in a mumble, starting to lose the ability to think, worse with each thrust. He had your arms pinned above your head, hips pounding against yours as hard as possible. Moans and slapping of skin echoing in the room. It was crazy how quickly he could get you where you needed to be. Knew exactly the angle his cock had to enter and exactly the right speed, but he definitely knew what he was doing. Slowly his thrusts as soon as he knew the knot began to build in your lower stomach. Bringing you to the edge numerous times.

“Kelly, I'm getting close.” You warned, whining even louder when his thrusts came to a stop. “Kelly fuck baby come on stop doing that.” You begged, legs beginning to shake at the continuous edging feeling the knot disappear from the pit stomach again and you wanted to cry.

“As soon as you learned to call me by the correct name you can finish.” He teased. Your brain was too clouded to form a decent sentence let alone control what was actually coming out of your mouth.

“God daddy I’m sorry I can’t help it. I can’t even think straight right now.” Your body was wiggling uncontrollably trying to get the friction moving again, tears gathering in the corner of your eyes.

“You can and you will baby.” He ordered, slowly beginning to move again.

“Daddy please just let me cum. Please. Wanna cum around your cock so bad.” You begged, likely incoherently, but he must’ve felt bad as he moved his thumb down into to contact with your clit flicking against it in time with his thrusts.

“Ahhh holy shit yes! Daddy oh my god!” You yelled limbs locking when the pleasure exploded throughout your body. Shaking slightly, sounds flowing freely from your mouth, hands entwining with Kelly’s single hand above you. Stars were still clouding your vision when you tried to open your eyes, Kelly curling himself even closer against you, his head stuffed into your neck, groans continuously accompanying each of his breaths.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck! I’m so close baby girl. So fucking close. Keep clenching that pussy for daddy. Just like that.” He coached, feeling the aftershocks of your orgasm.

“I can feel you twitching babe. I can feel how close you are daddy. You gotta pull out unless you want it in me.” You warned knowing within three strokes he was gonna fill you otherwise trying to push away the multiple voices in your head that admitted you would love nothing more.

“That’s exactly what I want princess, daddy’s gonna flood this tight perfect little pussy with his hot thick cum.” He grunted out and sure enough three strokes later you felt his cock swell, muscles tensing below your hands before spurting numerous amounts of cum against your walls, the warmth lighting your body on fire even more, Kelly collapsed onto your body, during the short fast thrusts he used to work himself through. Loud groans falling from his lips. Sweat covered your bodies sticking between the two of you.

Finally catching his breath a few minutes later he slowly pulled out of you, mind clicking and coming back to reality, eyes widening when he saw the cum running out of you, “Oh my god. Oh fuck baby I’m so sorry. Shit!” He panicked, eyes flicking from the mound between your legs to your face causing you to giggle.

“It’s fine, Kel.” You reassured him reaching for tissues to attempt any clean up.

“I should’ve asked. I let myself get way too carried away. I'm so sorry.” He ran a hand down his face.

“Would you be okay with having a baby with me?” You asked him sincerely.

“Well...yeah of course. I love you.” He nodded his head.

“Then it’s fine. We’re both adults. We know the risks of sex. If we really wanted to avoid it I would suggest more than just the pull out method. Plus if I was really worried I could’ve stopped you.” You shrugged. “Not saying I want to actively try but it certainly wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.” You admitted, having kept your feelings on this exact subject at bay for a while.

“You want to have a baby with me?” He asked, shocked.

“Eventually.” You answered and he smiled.

“Could you imagine telling everyone you’re pregnant and we’ve actually been back together for months.” He laughed at the thought.

“Well thanks to your lack of self-control that might be a reality.” You joked, giving him a pointed look.

“On the brightside you’d get to call me daddy more.” He said winking as he leaned down to capture your lips in a soft kiss.

“Nobody would ever believe the things you say to me in bed.” You thought out loud.

“Gentleman on the streets, freak in the sheets.” He shrugged, winking.

NSFW Taglist:

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[tsukishumai]

pairing; iwaizumi hajime x gn!reader genre; fluff, brothers best friend to lovers warnings; oikawa!reader, alcohol consumption, suggestive themes, making out, swearing wc: 3.7k+ summary; after years apart, your big brother finally flies back to visit home. Eager to show off just how much you’ve grown, you invite him over to your new apartment for dinner. It was supposed to be sibling bonding time; so why was Iwaizumi Hajime walking through your door???

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

If there was one thing you hadn’t expected from Tooru moving half way across the world, it’s that you would actually miss him.

You had been such a pain in the weeks leading up to his departure. Not only did you create a poster counting down the days until his flight, but you had thrown all your things into and claimed his (much bigger) room before he could even get started on packing his things. You scoffed when he said you’d miss him, going so far as to wear a party hat and bringing confetti to the airport when you dropped him off.

You really did enjoy it, at first. You no longer had to fight over who used the bathroom first in the morning, or who got to pick what to watch on TV. There was no one coming into your room randomly to ask you stupid questions, and the walks home from school were suddenly a million times quieter.

You don’t know when you started lecturing him for forgetting to call, or sending him care packages because it’s almost impossible for him to find Mirin in Argentina. But you had bawled your eyes out when he couldn’t fly back for your high school graduation, and you were forced to come to the realization that you, in fact, missed your older brother.

So when he called to say he was coming home to visit, you could feel your bones vibrating with excitement. Although you spoke to him everyday, it had been years since you’ve seen him in the flesh. You were still just a teenager when he left, a little brat poking fun at your brother’s tear-streaked face as he tried to hug you goodbye.

Now, it was your turn — tears disgracefully staining your cheeks as the snot bubbles around your nostrils. Oikawa laughed when you threw open your apartment door and immediately bursted into tears, rushing forward to engulf him in a tight hug.

“Come on, y/n,” he chuckled, patting you on the shoulder and pushing you off, “I know it’s been a while, but this shirt’s designer, please.”

You step back and smack him hard on the chest before diving right back into his embrace. Oikawa rolled his eyes and finally wrapped his arms around you, giving you a tight squeeze in greeting.

You were eager to show him your apartment, one that you had leased and furnished all with your own hard work. You showed him the plants that you had miraculously kept alive for longer than a week, and he teased you for the family photo you had framed in your living room.

“It looks much bigger in person,” Oikawa commented as you led him to sit down at your dinner table, an assortment of different dishes and sides you had spent hours making spread across. “And since when did you know how to cook?”

“I’ve always known how to cook,” you rolled your eyes, grabbing two beers out the fridge and setting one down in front of Oikawa, “I just never bothered to cook for you.”

“And here I thought you might have gotten nicer over the years,” Oikawa clutched at his heart, feinting hurt before giving you a sad smile, “But this place is great, y/n. You’ve done really well.”

You could feel a sort of strange pride begin to spread across your chest, one that had made you grin a little wider and sit a little straighter. Suddenly, Oikawa lets out a dramatic wail and drops his head into his hands.

“You’re all grown up, and I missed all of it!”

You sighed, a crooked smile on your lips as you pat Oikawa on the shoulder.

“I know. You gave me abandonment issues.”

Oikawa’s head shot up out of his hands, a twisted snarl on his face as he looked at you in shock. “Wha— how could you say that?!”

You laughed at his distress, and Oikawa had started to say something snarky back. But your exchange had been rudely interrupted by four loud knocks. Both of you quickly turned your head over to the front door, your surprised and confused expression the complete opposite of Oikawa’s excited smile.

“Don’t be mad, y/n-chan,” Oikawa started, and nothing good had ever come from that sentence, “But since I’m only in town for such a short time, I kind of, sort of, invited someone else over tonight.”

Oikawa abruptly stands up from his seat, quickly dashing away from the daggers you were glaring at him and waltzing over to your front door. You felt your heart slowly sink into your stomach. You were undeniably upset, having expected to spend some real bonding time with the brother you’d only grown close to over a screen. He was just two years older than you, but the both of you had spent so much time arguing in your teenage years. Now, as adults, you thought this was your chance to really hang out — and he’s still pulling irritating stunts like this.

You had your lecture for him prepared and ready in your head, but when Oikawa swings open the door, any and all negative feelings that you may or may not have been experiencing just a moment prior had quickly dissipated into thin air.

Standing across the threshold of your apartment was your old high school crush, and your brother’s best friend — Iwaizumi Hajime.

Iwaizumi looks at you with a bright smile that made you feel as if you had been transported back in time. Butterflies that you thought long gone flutter their way back into your belly, bringing a heat to your face that left you silent. Iwaizumi must have mistranslated your expressions, as the corners of his lips slowly curl downward, and he turns to face Oikawa with a hardened scowl.

“You didn’t say I was coming,” Iwaizumi said, sighing and rubbing a hand down his face. Though, he was right about that.

“Iwa-chan!” Oikawa greets, completely ignoring Iwaizumi’s accusations and pulling his best friend through the door before slamming it shut. “SO glad you could make it tonight. Y/N made a ton of food!”

You hastily stand up from your seat, rushing to greet your new guest when Iwaizumi turns to give you an apologetic bow.

“I’m sorry for the intrusion,” he says politely when he stands back up, lamely offering you a bottle of sake in greeting. “I hope you don’t mind.”

“Iwaizumi-san, please,” you finally find your voice. You hurry over to take the bottle from his hand, offering him a soft smile. “It’s not an intrusion at all! Come in, come in.”

He returns your smile with a relieved one of his own, finally shedding his shoes and entering your living space. Your heart was pounding like the rhythm of a taiko drum, and you thought it was impossible for them to have not heard it.

You lead the two boys the short distance from your foyer to your dining room table, Oikawa plopping down in his seat to your right and leaving Iwaizumi to take a seat directly across from you.

“I didn’t know you were back in Japan, Iwaizumi-san?” You questioned him as you prepared another place setting and grabbed another beer from the fridge.

Iwaizumi gives you a grateful nod, his fingers softly brushing against yours as he grabs the cold bottle from your grip.

“I just got back a couple of weeks ago,” he answered, watching you as you take your seat, “Something I thought your brother would have mentioned when he should have told you I was coming.”

Iwaizumi glares at the older Oikawa, who quickly raises both his hands up in the air in surrender.

“Do the details really matter now in this situation?” Oikawa squealed, quickly grabbing his own beer and raising the bottle into the air. “What matters is that the three of us are back together! Why don’t we cheers to that!”

You shared an exasperated look with Iwaizumi before the both of you rolled your eyes and begrudgingly raised your own bottles.

The clinking sound of colliding bottlenecks had been quickly followed by an oddly harmonized ‘itadakimasu’, and it was this that finally cut the ribbon of tension that had momentarily filled the atmosphere.

You forget just what a force the Iwaizumi/Oikawa combo truly was, having been deprived of the harmonious chaos the two often created whenever they were together for years. But now, the floodgates had been opened, and you were swept away in the current of nostalgia, all while trying to reconcile with the very new reality you were finding hard to believe was yours.

Everything about this was familiar. Your brother complaining about your cooking, yet still eating three full plates of food. Iwaizumi purposely antagonizing Oikawa with subtle jabs and back handed compliments. Oikawa asking you to take his side, so naturally, you take Iwaizumi’s because he helped you put the empty dishes in the sink. The two stayed bickering about anything and nothing, but the soft look in both their eyes and the way they leaned back against the chair and laughed told you that this was something that was sorely missed.

Yet somehow, none of it was the same.

The three of you still sat at your dining room table, and at first glance, Oikawa was hardly any different. His chest was just a bit broader, hair just a few inches shorter, and his skin had been kissed by the sun in a way it hadn’t been before. But then you see that his shoulders were no longer carrying the heavy burden he had placed on himself for years, and you notice his smiles had finally begun to reach his eyes. He now speaks to you with a gentleness to his tone that had never been there before, and his laughter had ceased to be laced with bitterness and discontent.

Oikawa’s hand moved so animatedly in the air as he talked about the cultural reset he had to go through in Argentina, but when Oikawa spoke of his new home, you knew he finally found a place he belonged.

Iwaizumi segues into a story about his roommates from America, and you could hardly see any shadow of the boy you once knew in the man that now sat in front of you.

Iwaizumi had always been handsome, but now he was drop dead gorgeous. His jaw looked so sharp, you were sure you would cut yourself if you dared to run your fingers along his skin, but you wouldn’t mind if it meant you could your thumb across his bottom lip. He filled out his shirt too perfectly, the outline of his pectorals barely starting to peek through the thin fabric. When he crosses his arms, you notice the veins that travel along the planes of his muscles, and you wonder what it would feel like if they were wrapped around you.

You move eyes up from his chest only to be met with hazy, verdant irises.

You froze in your seat, eyes locked with Iwaizumi’s as you try not to smack yourself on the face.

He caught you checking him out.

You felt your throat dry up at your attempt to gulp, ready to live with the humiliation for the rest of your life, but your despair had turned into irrational hope when Iwaizumi lightly licks his lips and smirks.

You had to bite the inside of your cheek.

“So, your own apartment, a job in the city,” Iwaizumi now turns the conversation to you, “Who would have thought Babykawa would be the most stable one out of all of us.”

You raised an eyebrow at him, cringing at your old nickname, “Do I look like a baby to you?”

“You’ll always be a baby to me,” Oikawa reaches over and pats your head, “but seriously. I’m really proud of you. You’re all grown up.”

Oikawa’s vision may have been blurred by the tears in his eyes, but you could clearly see the way Iwaizumi had looked at you up and down.

“Yeah, you definitely are,” he mumbled, reaching for the sake bottle the three of you had been drinking for the past hour. But when he tries to pour into his empty glass, not a single drop came out.

“We finished it,” you pouted, crossing your arms in a huff.

“Nooo, I want more,” Oikawa whined, banging his fists on the wodden table.

“Stop, you’re going to break the damn thing,” Iwaizumi snaps, and he tries to shake the bottle down for any ounce of liquid that might have been trapped inside. But alas, the bottle was dry, and the fridge had been devoid of beer ten minutes ago.

“Y/N, go buy more drinks,” Oikawa demanded, pointing at the door, “I saw a convenience store a few blocks down.”

You groan at Oikawa, rolling your eyes at him. But you weren’t ready for the night to be over, so you moved to get up from your seat and grab your keys.

But before you could go anywhere, Iwaizumi shoots an arm out to keep you in place, giving Oikawa the dirtiest look.

“Oi, shittykawa, it’s the middle of the night, and you’re going to order y/n to go out alone?” Iwaizumi lectures, “What the hell is wrong with you? Argentina make you forget your manners or something?”

“Ahh, I’m sorry, Iwa-chan, I can’t understand you with that American accent,” Oikawa childishly retaliates, but Iwaizumi just gives him a hard look.

“Damn it, fine, I’ll go,” Oikawa mutters, getting up to grab his coat, “Make some snacks while I’m gone.”

You stare at Iwaizumi slack-jawed. Oikawa was always such a pain in your ass, you could never get used to how easily he bended for Iwaizumi.

Though, you can’t deny you’d bend for —

Your thoughts were interrupted with the slam of your front door.

“That was impressive,” you commented, and Iwaizumi chuckled.

“That’s nothing,” he replies, waving a hand in front of his face, “Thanks again for letting me crash your dinner.”

You smile at how suddenly the previously confident Iwaizumi had melted into the nervous bundle in front of you, as he fiddled with his glass and ran a hand through his hair.

“Well, the bottle of sake made up for it, I suppose,” you joked, sighing dramatically, resting your arms on the table. “Though, your second mistake was only bringing one bottle.”

A comfortable silence fell amongst the two of you as you both leaned back on your chairs, and Iwaizumi’s gaze rested on your face. His cheeks were tinted red, and the corner of his lips had been upturned so slightly, that if you hadn’t been staring at him all night, you probably wouldn’t have noticed.

“I’m glad to see you’re still the same you,” he sighed out, now fully letting his smile rest on his lips.

There was no stopping your lips from returning his smile with one of your own, and you felt incredibly stupid for feeling so giddy over something that wasn’t even really a compliment.

“And I’m just glad to see you, Iwaizumi-san,” the words involuntarily tumbled from your tongue, the creeping onset of inebriation beginning to loosen your lips.

Iwaizumi raises an eyebrow at you. “What’s with the Iwaizumi-san? What happened to Iwa-chan?”

You recall the moniker you had adapted from your older brother, having called Iwaizumi that for nearly the entirety of your relationship.

But that was a different you. And this was a different Iwa. And a part of you didn’t want to drag old aspects of your connections with him into the present.

A bigger part of you wanted to make new connections.

“You don’t like Iwaizumi-san?” You ask, leaning forward to rest your head in your hands. You stared up at him through your eyelashes, copying his move by licking your lips, “How about I call you Hajime instead?”

You could tell Iwa had been taken aback from the way his eyes widened and his mouth dropped, but he was quick to regain his composure.

He leaned forward, dropping his arm down onto the table and ghosting his fingers along your arm.

“If you want to call me Hajime, you have to earn it.”

Your door bursts open in nearly the same you way your heart wanted to burst from your chest.

“I’m back,” Oikawa said, “They only had apple soju. Which, you know, I’m not complaining.”

Oikawa returned the scene, oblivious to the conversation that had just taken place a few seconds prior. Iwaizumi takes the bottles of soju from Oikawa and casually fills his glass, and yours. He sneaks a glance at you before placing the bottle down, and Oikawa complains about having to pour his own drink.

The night continued on as normal. You laugh at Oikawa’s story about how he accidentally bought 60000¥ worth of pineapple at the grocery store, and Oikawa sputters when Iwaizumi tries to teach him English phrases.

But now, you find your eyes staring at the handsome, green-eyed man in front of you much more often than you’d like to admit. And your breath is stolen from right out of your lungs whenever you find him staring at you too.

Four, five, six bottles of soju later, and Oikawa’s passed out on your couch with a fleece blanket draped over him. Iwaizumi was still sat at your dining room table, arms resting on the table as he laid his head on top. Competitiveness may be something they never outgrow, because as soon as Oikawa mentioned a drinking contest, you knew it was game over.

You move past him and into your kitchen, deciding to get a head start on your dishes in an attempt to calm your nerves.

It wasn’t all in your head, was it? Iwaizumi was definitely flirting with you. Well, at the very least, you were flirting with him.

Just as you finish washing the final bowl, Iwaizumi enters the kitchen. You quickly shut off the faucet before you slowly turn to face him, stomach flip flopping in its place as you fought the food and drink threatening to crawl back up your throat.

“Hey, Iwa-chan,” you teased, leaning back against the counter and crossing your arms, “Have a good nap?”

Iwaizumi doesn’t react to your quip, half-lidded eyes honed in on you through an alcoholic haze as he slowly steps in to close the distance between you two.

He doesn’t stop until his chest is mere centimeters from yours, and you use every ounce of your willpower not to shrink away.

“Call me Hajime,” he leans down to whisper in your ear, placing his hands on the kitchen counter on either side of you. You were caged into his arms, and you shivered as his breath fanned down your neck. “I have a confession to make.”

“What?”

Iwaizumi pulled his head back, smirking down at you.

“I asked Oikawa if I could come tonight.”

You felt yourself sober up at his words, straightening your back so you could look him straight in the eye.

“Why?”

Iwaizumi shrugged, moving his left hand from the counter to stroke a finger along your jaw.

“Maybe I just wanted to see you.”

You couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. A part of you was afraid that one wrong turn would instantly shatter the illusion you had fallen under. Another part just wanted to stay caged under Iwaizumi forever.

You felt the warmth of his hand cup the back of your neck.

“Can I kiss you?” every word brought Iwaizumi closer until his breath fanned across your lips. The shadows of his face had been so close to yours, the scent of beer mixed with his cologne started to make your head spin, and you weren’t sure which way was up.

All you knew was that the moment you nodded your head, Iwaizumi bends your head back and lowers his lips onto yours.

Iwaizum felt so plush against you, his kisses felt as rich as velvet and softer than silk. He moved his lips against you in a smooth rhythm, his hand cupping your face while the other arm wraps around your waist.

You feel yourself being lifted off your feet, stabilized by only Iwaizumi’s embrace. You brace yourself against his chest, slowly snaking your arms up to wrap around his neck.

Iwaizumi pulls you even closer than you thought possible, licking and nipping at your bottom lip, asking for more. You could feel your heart beat faster and faster as Iwaizumi nearly whimpers against you, begging to be accepted.

As soon as you parted your lips, Iwaizumi enters your mouth, swirling his hot tongue against yours, making your heart do somersaults in its cage until you felt your knees begin to buckle.

Iwaizumi swallowed your moans with his mouth, and you cling onto him as if he were your only anchor in this spinning room.

The sound of glass breaking had abruptly interrupted your ministrations, causing the two of you to jump so far apart, you were on nearly opposite sides of the kitchen.

You turn to the living room, starkly reminded of the brother you left passed out on the couch. While he was still sleeping soundly, he manages to remind you of his presence by accidentally knocking over the lamp on your side table.

You and Iwa simultaneously let out a sigh of relief.

He looks at you. You look at him.

It started with a giggle, which soon evolved into a snicker, and a few minutes later you and Iwa were nearly on the floor laughing.

When the laughter dies down, Iwaizumi helps you clean up the broken shards that scattered in your living room.

You go to throw the glass away in the trash, and you come back to see that Iwaizumi moves to a spot by the front door, kicking his feet at imaginary rocks.

“I better get going. It’s getting late,” he said, finally looking up to face you.

You nodded silently, a stupid smile on your face as you still found yourself at a loss for words.

Iwaizumi turns to leave, but suddenly looks back at you nervously. “Can I call you later?”

You had no idea Iwaizumi could be so charming.

You close the distance between you two, placing a hand on his shoulder and standing up on your tip toes to place a kiss on his cheek.

“Get home safely,” you say, “I’ll be waiting for your call.”

The grin on Iwaizumi’s face was blinding.

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Good night, Hajime.”

[deborahmessingsfingers]

I’m Tired

pairings: bo burnham x reader

word count: 3283

tags/warnings: explicit language, mental health issues, mental breakdown, angst, hurt/comfort, sad Bo, gender neutral reader

also on ao3

Bo had been off for a while. He’d only been working on the special for a few months when you noticed the first sign. He started to talk a little less, which at first glance, you weren’t too worried about. He often became quite reclusive and introspective when it came to his writing process, channeling all of his energy into planning and drafting.

It’d happened before, when he was in the early stages of producing Eighth Grade. Conversation grew thin and infrequent, all of his time and energy was spent planning, writing and ruminating, though as the process progressed from writing to filming, his sparkle returned and you could see the life and excitement dancing around in his eyes once more.

Since he started Inside, you were lucky if you got to see his eyes at all.

At first, he’d come bouncing back from the guest house each evening, excited to discuss his latest ideas and concepts, eager to receive your feedback and the fresh perspective you gave.

This routine was quick to disappear.

Every day, he’d come back from the guest house a little later and a little more deflated until your interactions were limited to a kiss good morning and a kiss good night.

Eventually he stopped coming to bed all together. You never went into the guest house so as not to disturb his flow, but you assumed he’d taken to sleeping on the fold-out couch. You’d hoped he was sleeping at least, for the sake of his well being.

You missed him. God, you missed him, more than you ever thought possible. Despite the fact that he was a mere few feet away from your front door, you felt more distanced from him now than the times he’d been on the other side of the country, touring, performing, and seeing the world.

He’d always been like that. Limitations in physical proximity could only wedge such a divide between you two, it was always the inner demons and anxieties that caused the rifts.

You attempted to rip the bandaid off after a month of the same, silent routine. You anxiously approached the guest house with the best olive branch you had available; a peanut butter sandwich and a cup of coffee. Your free hand knocked on the door of the guest house tentatively, not wanting to disturb him in the middle of something.

No answer.

You knocked again, still quietly, but with more intention.

No answer.

You shakily grasped the doorknob and twisted, your mind flicking through every dreadful outcome. Opening the door, you see one outcome you didn’t quite anticipate.

The room was dark and humid, the space overwhelmingly cluttered with miscellaneous cords, lights and stands.

And in the middle of all of the chaos, he was just… sitting there.

Hunched over the keyboard in the corner of the room. He just sat and stared at the keys, his white-knuckled fists resting on his thighs. You immediately noticed just how long his hair had grown, long enough to cover his eyes, the rest of his face hidden in it’s shadows. He appeared completely immersed in his own world, clearly missing all your attempts at grabbing his attention.

“Bosey,” you said, your tone just short of a whisper, head cocking to the side to see him a little better from the doorway. Bo inhaled sharply as his head turned to face you, seemingly pulled from his thoughts. His brow was quick to furrow.

“What’re you doing in here?” he asked. His voice was raspy and hoarse, not unlike how it sounded first thing in the morning. It reminded you so much of all the mornings spent waking up next to him, often in his arms, spending hours upon hours talking until noon about anything and everything, at least until you were cast out of your cloud of bliss by your worldly responsibilities. God, how you missed those moments.

“I thought I’d just come check on you. Didn’t think you’d eaten anything in a while so,” you paused, setting the peace offering down with a quiet clink, “thought I’d make myself useful.”

You smiled, but it didn’t quite reach your eyes, and his thanks was expressed simply by mirroring your unconvincing grin. He tutted, running his hands through his hair, as he often did when nervous. You could tell he was exhausted; the bags under his eyes were so dark and he could hardly make conversation with the one person who knew him best.

The air was thick with tension, the awkwardness quickly made you both uncomfortable and your head was reeling with anxieties on how you wound up feeling like this; like an unwelcome stranger in your own guest house.

“You been sleeping okay?” you asked, hand gently gesturing to the fold-out couch behind him as you lent against the doorframe. You felt slight comfort at the sight of tangled bedsheets, though the relief was quickly expunged as you lost count of the wires and equipment covering the mattress.

“Y-Yeah, i’ve been... It’s fine,” he sighed, his large hand wrapping around his jaw to scratch the sides of his beard, “I’m just a little busy right now honey, I-I gotta get back to it.”

His hands slapped his thighs matter-of-factly before he stood up, shuffling towards the back of the room. He began to fiddle with equipment, pointlessly messing around with a tangle of cords he’d picked up from the kitchen bench.

Your eyes instinctively closed shut as you felt a wave of dizziness hit you. His avoidant nature and impatience all but confirmed it; he was not doing well.

You felt incredibly and painfully torn. You knew him better than he knew himself sometimes, but if there was one thing you were both unsure of, it was how to handle situations like these. Pressing any harder would only prove to make him snap, though leaving him to his own devices would only further encourage his bad habits.

You could ruminate on this dilemma for the rest of your life to no avail, but an instinct deep within you pushed you to query just a little more, to try and reach out as gently as you could.

“Have you thought about, um…” you faltered, scrambling to find the right words, “taking a break soon, honey? Even just a little one? I know how important this is to you, but I know in the past you’ve burnt yourself out, and maybe even if you just came inside for a shower, just to reset and maybe just-”

“I said I’m fine.” he interjected harshly. You were caught off guard, now feeling sheepish and bewildered, truly feeling like an intruder. You kicked yourself inwardly for pushing too far, you knew this would happen. You opened your mouth to try and apologise, to take back the supposed infringement, but his voice came through when your own refused.

“I’m about to start filming. Could you…” he asked, hoping you’d get the message and leave without having to ask you explicitly. You were too befuddled to push any further, already regretting the attempts you’d made.

“Of course, sorry honey.” you replied, shaking your head. Your lips pressed together in a tight, forced smile until you left and shut the door behind you. The slam was enough to bring tears to your eyes.

You shook your head to try and clear it, trying with all your might to move on from the incident and figure out a plan moving forward.

He said he was fine.

You knew he wasn’t.

There were a few times you thought it was all going to be okay. Shortly after the guest house dispute, you were surprised by the sound of the back door being opened. He greeted you with a tired smile and you quickly snaked your arms around him, holding on to him for dear life, telling yourself you’d never let go again.

He sat with you in the kitchen, peacefully watching you cook. You could tell he missed your company just by the soft smile on his face, the first one you had seen in a long time, and you beamed at the very sight of him sitting contently with Bruce on his lap. There wasn’t much conversation over dinner, though compared to earlier, the awkwardness was nonexistent. Until dessert.

You wanted to pull out all the stops, utilising every second of this rare quality time to enjoy his company and to show him how much difference a few hours of luxury and relaxation can make.

You left him lounging on the couch to make his favourite dessert - sticky toffee pudding with vanilla ice cream. You were so relieved you could scream at just the simple thought of him zoning out in front of the television with the dogs, truly letting himself just be, for the first time in a long time.

When the pudding was ready however, your cheesy grin quickly dropped as you realised you were presenting dessert to an empty room. The dogs were quick to start barking, running back and forth between yourself and the back door, and you nearly dropped the plates at the sound of that heinous shed door closing once more. You couldn’t believe it. Just when you thought things were starting to look up, he waltzes straight back towards the problem itself.

Not thinking for a second, you set the plates down and marched over to the guest house. You didn’t bother to knock this time, instead assertively opening the door to see him already settled with a keyboard on his lap. His head flew up at the sound of your entrance, mouth flying open with silent questions. You stopped for a moment - both of you did, a little surprised at your bold entry. Coming to your senses, your gait quickly softened, hands clasped loosely in front of you so as not to alarm him.

“I-I made dessert. Your favourite.” you explained meekly, watching him from the doorway once more. He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed deeply, filling you with a sense of dread. You knew what would happen if you pushed it, but here you were. You were so desperate at this point, missing the man you fell in love with and frightened of the shell he’d become. Even more so than that, you were frightened for him.

Bo had always had trouble accepting help, and the idea of him asking for it was inconceivable. He’d opened up to you over time about a lot of things, but every time it got a little more serious he’d close up like a clam, refusing entry into his world until the situation simply dissipated.

“I can’t, I’m busy.” he deadpanned, fiddling around with the microphone stand. You could feel the wave of disappointment wash over you once more. For a few hours, you really thought things had taken a turn for the better, for a few hours your hopes had been lifted, all for it to just come crumbling back down tenfold. The adrenaline quickly hijacked your brain, talking on your subconscious’ behalf before you had a moment to strategize.

“You’re always busy.” you snapped. Your voice wasn’t that loud, but you knew he could hear it shake, months of anxiety and concern finally bubbling over. Your fear only grew when you saw a glint of rage flicker behind his eyes.

“It’s my job.” he rebutted with a swift, disapproving shake of his head.

“But you always push yourself too far, Bo. I know you’re just so passionate about what you do, but you always end up so burnt out and I-”

“Stop saying that!” he bellowed, finally placing the keyboard aside and standing up to face you. His height has never intimidated you, but the way in which he towered over you made you feel so small and powerless.

“You keep saying that when I'm not, it’s like you want me to be, like you want me to stop working.” he explained sternly. You felt your words get trapped in your throat, hyper-aware and petrified of digging this hole any deeper.

“I don’t want you to be burnt out, Robert,” you explained, using his full name in hopes it would better emphasize your sincerity, “I just care about you. I’ve seen this happen to you before, when you just go and go and go until you can’t anymore, you stop eating, you stop sleeping and you never talk to anyone about it, you just bottle it all up and let it eat you alive. And I mean, I miss you. God, I miss you so much, but more importantly than that right now, I’m worried about you.” you blurted.

You could feel your body tremble, your veins flooding simultaneously with relief and pure fear after finally airing the grievances you’ve fostered for months.

You watched as he processed your words. You might have just been projecting, but for a moment, you swore you saw his face soften, a part of him wanting so desperately to give in, to surrender and let you help. Lamentably, he huffed out a tired, contemptuous laugh.

After all you said, he simply turned his back to you, picked up his keyboard and continued on like you hadn’t said a peep. For a moment, you stood there, truly gobsmacked, but the piercing screeches of his synthesizer were enough to usher you out the door and back to the house, not stopping until you were in bed and crying into your pillow.

Your mind wouldn’t let up, over-processing every word he spoke, every breath he took, looking for illusory warning signs that this was it. All the years you’d spent together, all the hard work and love and dedication you’d poured into the relationship, all of the sacrifices, all of the rewards, it was all now null and void because you’d pushed him too far.

At some point, your mind had crossed over into the world of paranoia, manipulating every once-pleasant memory of the evening to fit your new narrative, that this was the end.

You don’t remember falling asleep, but the slightly-damp pillow was enough to indicate that it happened pretty fast. Your brain soon caught up with your body, picking up the very noise that woke you up - the shower.

You rose from your bed with a furrowed brow and made your way down the stairs as quietly as you could, as if your presence would scare him off like a fly. You made it face to face with the door of the guest bathroom, the shower was undoubtedly on, and from the excited state of the dogs, Bo was undoubtedly in there. You gently rested your hand against the door, unsure of what to do.

Eventually, you backed up and took refuge on the couch, allowing him space to wash away the day and hopefully clear his mind.

Ten minutes passed, you sat patiently, silently on the couch as you waited for the shower to stop.

Another ten minutes later and you hadn’t moved from your spot, save a few adjustments for Bruce who had curled up under your arm.

It had been half an hour since you sat and your nerves were multiplying by the second. You were using every fibre of your being to hold yourself back from going in there, no longer trusting that gut instinct that, once again, reared it’s ugly head. You could hear it’s faint screams echoing in the back of your head;

‘Push’.

The impulse grew more enticing with every passing second until it had been forty five minutes since you awoke and you could no longer wait.

Pacing up to the door, the hesitation that stopped you from going in last time revealed itself once more. The hesitation was quickly silenced, however, by the sound of muffled sobs.

Your heart was in your throat, your stomach twisting and churning itself into impossible knots in response to the muted lamentations. Your body turned to jelly as you dubiously opened the door, wincing at the creak of it’s hinges. You could feel your heart drop to the floor and shatter at the sight before you.

Bo was curled up in the corner of the bathtub, arms around his knees as his hair completely concealed his face. He was seemingly unbothered by the harsh, hot stream of water hammering against his head, and you could only just make out the shaking of his shoulders through the steam.

Without a moment of hesitation, you stepped out of your shoes, well beyond caring about the clothes you were wearing, and stepped into the bathtub fully clothed to sit behind him. Your legs splayed out on either side of him, and your arms quickly wrapped around to sit atop his own.

You could truly feel him crying now as he leant into your touch, too exhausted to fight any more. You could feel his laboured breathing, you could hear his wordless whispers as he tried and failed to speak. So you spoke for him.

“I’ve got you, Bo.” you said quietly, beginning to rock him back and forth and softly kissing his head. Finally, he managed to squeak out a few words,

“I’m so fucking tired.”

It was punctuated with a sob, and you had to muster every ounce of strength you had not to cry yourself. You’d never seen him like this before. You’d seen him stressed, you’d seen him deflated, you’d seen him tired, overworked and depressed. But never quite this broken.

“I’m so fucking tired. I’m so tired, please” he continued, repeating his mantra over and over again,

‘I’m tired, I’m tired, I’m tired’

You couldn’t imagine how much he must have to say, and neither of you knew quite where to start. But after all these years, he’d finally hit the breaking point.

You continued to slowly rock him back and forth, gently kissing his hair as the both of you sat under the scalding hot stream of the shower.

He tensed up for a moment in your grip, his demons seemingly coming back to remind him he isn’t worthy of help. A vague suggestion of ‘You shouldn’t have to do this’ was muttered under his breath, but this time when you pushed back, he let you. Your hold on him endured, soothingly rubbing small circles on his arm with your thumb until he settled once more.

“I’ve got you.” you reassured him once more, hoping to god that this time you got through. And as you felt his shoulders start to shake once more, you think you just might have.

“Why am I doing this?” Bo asked, voice raised to compete against the strong pelt of the shower. You stayed silent and let him continue.

“What’s the fucking point? I can’t even tell what I'm doing anymore. It’s all I can think about, all I can do is just work on it but I hate everything I come up with, it just makes me so fucking miserable. And sometimes I just wanna stop, for the night, and get into bed with you, and the girls, and just forget about everything for a few hours but I can’t switch my fucking brain off and I’m just stuck in this fucking endless feedback loop in my head and I’m just so tired” he cried, gasping in a loud breath.

“It’s okay, baby,” you cooed, pulling him a little closer to you, “you don’t have to be okay. I’ve got you.”

Bo didn’t know how to say it, he didn’t know where he’d begin, but he was so thankful that you persevered, that you were still there with him, that you were right there holding him through this.

[boxofbadaddiction]

The Trouble With Parenthood

Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader

Warnings: NSFW. Swearing. Small moment of Daddy Kink. Sexual References and Depictions of Sex.

Requested

Fred and Y/n's relationship had always involved a very healthy sex life. Like...very healthy, okay they couldn't keep their hands off each other. It'd been like that when they'd begun dating and continued through their marriage - if anything it'd gotten worse once they'd put that ring on one another's finger.

So as you could imagine, an abrupt stopper in their regular love making had left the couple feeling rather...frustrated.

This 'stopper's name was Cassidy. 'Cassi' for short.

As it is for every parent, the day she were born had been the happiest day of Fred and Y/ns life. She was the perfect daughter from the moment she'd been born. Happy, healthy and not at all fussy. However, recently she had become quite clingy.

Not that it had bothered her parents. Honestly, they'd found it endearing how much she wanted to spend time with them...in the beginning anyway. But it is safe to say that the couple were in desperate need of some "Mummy and Daddy Time." Because, as Fred so delicately put it; his 'balls have never been so blue'. A comment which would have been much more amusing to y/n if she were not so pent up herself.

Though this sexless patch of their relationship was not due to their lack of trying mind you.

They'd seemingly tried everything, for a moment to themselves. But these days with the small issue of 'monsters in the closet', Cassi had settled herself in bed between her parents to sleep most nights, so that ruled out sex before bed. Of course there was always fleeting moments in the bathroom...until Cassi learned how to reach the door handles. Now no room was safe from intrusions.

Feeling rather adventurous y/n had even set up a long lunch at work one day with the intent on surprising Fred at the shop. It was nearly a success...until an unsuspecting George wandered into the otherwise occupied back Office. He was mortified to say the least.

They'd tried setting up a 'date night' arrangement; but after Fred mistakenly let slip his current predicament to George, and their little incident at work, they were shit out of luck for a babysitter as his brother found the whole situation were just 'too fucking funny'.

Which brings us to tonight.

Y/n trudged into her and Freds bedroom after a very long day at work and an extra long goodnight to their daughter down the hall - which involved more than the usual amount of bedtime stories being shared.

Stepping through the door she were met with the very tired body of Fred sprawled across their bed. She couldn't help but chuckle at the sight; he were laid with one arm slung across his eyes, as the other rested on his stomach and one knee were raised - swaying lazily in place.

Closing the door behind her y/n rest her weight back against the hardwood letting out a heavy breath.

"Is she down?" Fred asked at the sound of her entering the room. "Mmm, finally." She replied, pushing her body from the door she began to ready herself for bed, mentally crossing her fingers, hopeful for some decent rest tonight.

She kicked off her shoes and let her hair loose from it's tie before stripping to just her knickers and finding one of Freds old shirts, she had taken to sleeping in, and throwing it on.

"Leave the shirt off" Freds voice came as a tired groan from his place on the bed. His words caused y/n to turn her head, seeing his arm now rested slightly higher on his forehead as he watched her. He was grinning, tongue pressing against his cheek, clearly enjoying the view.

Y/n licked her lips, pulling her bottom lip through her teeth as his stare burned hot on her skin. She raised a teasing brow as she slowly began to glide a hand up her side and over the soft fabric of the t-shirt she'd thrown on. Fingers delicately caressed the space between her breasts until a single finger came to lazily play with the shirts collar. Tugging just enough to expose the tops of her cleavage. Running her finger slowly back and forth across the collars seam she approached the bedside.

The arm Fred had slung across his face moved, fingers furrowing through his fiery locks, to prop his head further on the pillow for a better view of the stunning woman before him. He smirked, inhaling deeply, in amusement; thoroughly enjoying her little show for him.

"Don't go teasing me, love. Its been a long few weeks." His tone was firm but playful, the same one that never failed to turn y/ns knees weak and have her thighs rubbing together. Tonight was no different. If anything it were worse from their lack of intimacy as of late.

Smiling sweetly in place beside the mattress she ran both hands up from her knees, along her exposed thighs to lift the shirts sides. Fred shifted in place, supporting himself onto his elbow his eyes hungrily traced her fingers movements as they hooked below the waistband of her underwear and pulled them off.

Tauntingly she dangled the lace garment from her forefinger before throwing it at his chest playfully.

Unable to restrain himself a moment longer he simultaneously discarded her panties to the opposite side of the room and with his other hand grasped her hip, roughly pulling her onto the bed below him. He kissed her passionately as a hand raked up the inside of her thigh, ghosting over the skin to rest on her waist.

Y/n smiled into the kiss; both hands tangling in his hair as she shifted beneath him so he were resting comfortably between her legs. As the tension began to build y/n aided Fred in shedding layers of his clothing; left in his singlet and briefs. His erection felt pressing against her core through the thin material. Y/ns hand came down to eagerly palm at his bulge when-

"DAAADDYYYY!" Cassi's voice called beggingly from her room.

Fred groaned in frustration, head falling to the crook of his wife's neck as he mumbled something inaudibly, though it sounded undoubtedly along the lines of 'For Merlin's sake, not now'.

"Go to bed, Baby!" He yelled over his shoulder, "Daddy's busy." He spoke the last words to y/n in a lustful tone. Admiring her flustered appearance, he moved to kiss her again as-

"DAAADDYYY!!"

"Godrick, what'd I do to deserve this?" He grumbled causing y/n to giggle. "Go to her." She nudged, "I'll still be here when you get back." Fred sat back onto his knees, pointing a stern finger as he spoke "Don't fall asleep." "I won't." Y/n replied as he got off the bed and made his way to the door.

"Can't guarantee I won't start without you though."

Fred turned back, watching from just outside the door as a wicked grin settled across her features. "Don't you dare." He warned taking a step back toward the room.

Y/n raised her brow; challenging his dominance. One hand delicately played with her exposed collar bone as her other crept down her body, disappearing between her thighs.

Her back arched as she ran fingers through her slick folds, a soft moan filling the room. Fred made another move back towards the bedroom, hand clutching the door frame as he-

"DADDY!!!" Another call from their daughter. He peered back down the hall, eyeing her bedroom door which were slightly ajar. "Daddy?" Y/n spoke in a low sultry tone, deliberately trying to rile him up.

Fred frustratidly ran a hand over his eyes, facing quite the personal dilemma. Groaning loudly he shook his head, seemingly shaking the sense and strength into himself as he marched down the hallway in a huff. Y/n was unable to restrain the laughter that erupted from her chest at his reaction.

While Fred tended to their daughter y/n took the moment to get comfortable. Lighting a candle and fluffing the pillows below her head to find the best position for when her husband returns in any second...

Any minute now. He's probably just reading her a quick story to get her settled.

Maybe she should just start without him?

That was the last thought to cross her mind before she found herself waking from a sleep she hadn't meant to fall into. Fred had laid down beside her. "Oh, so you are coming back to bed?" Y/n asked sarcastically, voice groggy. "Mmm. Told you not to fall asleep." He quipped, tucking himself in next to her side. One arm snuck beneath her shoulder blades, pulling her into him, as the other wrapped around her waist. "I wouldn't have, had you'd been back sooner." Y/n nestled in against his chest as she felt him place a kiss to her head.

"Had to read her a story. Then one turned to two; two to three and soon enough I realised I'd been conned by a 4 year old. She's a brat...just like her Mother." The couple chuckled before falling quickly off to sleep.

Y/n was the first to wake the next morning. Smiling giddily at the disheveled appearance of her partner as well as the similar position of her daughter down the hall, she decided to ready breakfast as the two slept.

She were half way through her pancake batter when Fred's strong arms wrapped her in a tight embrace. His hands lightly squeezed at her sides as he kissed the exposed skin of her neck.

"Morning" he mumbled against her skin. "Smells good."

"I woke up with such a craving so just thought I'd start cooking, while you two obviously decided you'd sleep all day." She chuckled to which Fred hummed in response. "I wasn't talking about the food."

Reaching one arm past hers Fred switched off the stove and move the pan from its burner. "Hey! What are yo-"

Y/n didn't have a chance to finish her sentence as she was quickly spun to face her lover. Pushed flush into the cold counter as his lips connected with hers. She moaned contently into the kiss as she felt his hands run below her ass and she was then hoisted onto the counter top beside the stove.

"I'm not hungry for that." His expression was stern and his voice low. Roughly pulling her legs apart his hands hooked the underside of her knees, pulling to bring her to the edge of the bench.

Her lips were brought back to his as a hand grasped the nape of her neck and he stepped between her legs which wrapped eagerly around his waist.

Their movements were passionate and quickly becoming more heated; soon finding themselves fucking roughly on the kitchen bench their only thoughts set on each other.

With every hard thrust from Fred y/ns head and shoulders were being pushed against the cabinetry, whilst Fred buried his head in her neck biting softly on the bare skin to keep himself relatively quiet.

"God, Fred I'm close." Y/n moaned.

A groan came deep from within Fred's throat in response which sent chills through his lovers body. He pulled back and brought a hand to grasp her chin kissing her. His thrusts slowed as he relished in the feeling of her tongue against his as-

"Mummy?" a tired voice spoke from the other side of the room. "Fuck!" Fred breathed through gritted teeth as he pulled out and covered himself. Y/n jumped down from the bench flattening the shirts ends to cover herself as well. "Yeah, Sweetie?" She asked hurriedly trying to sound as normal as possible. "What are you doing?" "Nothing baby, Daddy and I are just cooking breakfast." She eyed Fred somewhat panicked as he leant over the island bench of their flat, in attempt to hide a certain problem- "ah, That's right." He nodded a hand coming over his mouth to restrain the shocked laughter threatening to spill out.

"Why were you on the bench? You told me we weren't allowed to sit on the bench."

"That's right, I'm sorry baby I shouldn't have been up there. Won't happen again."

Fred's head snapped over his shoulder to peer at y/n with furrowed brows, "it won't?" He questioned. He'd been quite enjoying their little indiscretion until the unexpected appearance of their daughter, he would gladly throw her atop the counter again in a heartbeat.

Y/ns eyes widen, lips forming a thin line in a statement which helped realisation dawn on her partner. "Oh, yep. Won't happen again." He smiled innocently to Cassi. "Princess, why don't you go grab the mail from the front then we can start breakfast." He winked as she excitedly skipped to the front door.

He looked back to his wife who was rubbing forcibly at her eyes. Chuckling as he placed both hands to her hips, a guesture which brought her attention back to him. "God, she's going to be traumatised when she's older if she ever realises." "Pay back for being a cock block." Fred laughed as Y/n slapped him with the spatula she'd been using earlier.

"Sad thing is; that's the closest we've gotten in weeks to...ya know." "Not close enough." Fred grumbled placing a quick kiss to her lips. "Let's eat. I'm starving."

Y/n let out a sharp breath, watching as she noticed Cassi bound into the room and sit up patiently at the table, mail placed neatly in front of her as she traced the lettering on the envelopes.

"I'm not hungry for that." Y/n whispered into Fred's ear, looking back up to him with big eyes before an evil smile came across her face and she reached out to palm him gently.

Fred's head fell back and he inhaled sharply, clenching his jaw before letting out a heavy breath. Until his own sly grin crept across his lips and he was smiling back down to his wife.

"Hey, Princess." He called over his shoulder, not breaking eye contact with Y/n "What do you say about a sleep over at Grandma and Grandpa's tonight?"

[joonie-beanie]

The OM! Boys + their reaction to you walking into the room naked

My HC for this may be slightly different than the tiktok challenge (I assume that’s what you’re referring to), but hopefully you still enjoy!

(MC/Reader is GN)

Lucifer:

He doesn’t bother looking up when you step into his study--too absorbed in his current work. He needs to read through the proposal on his desk and have the signed papers to Diavolo by morning, and it’s already nearing midnight.

“Lucifer.”

“Hmm?” He doesn’t give you his attention, at first. He’s used to you coming to check on him when it gets late, pestering him about coming to bed and getting some much needed shut-eye. “I’ll join you shortly. I need to finish up here.”

“Lucifer,” you try again, tone a little annoyed. He pauses at that, not used to hearing you upset. He sets his pen down with a sigh--gloved hand combing through his dark hair.

“Yes, Y/N, what--,” his voice cuts off as his gaze finally finds you. You’re leaning against the doorframe to the room, arms hugged in front of you, and a playful look in your eyes.

There’s not a shred of clothing on your body.

Seeing that you have his attention, you don’t bother saying anything. Simply watch his reaction--loving the way his crimson eyes widen in shock.

However, it doesn’t take him long to recover. He presses to his feet, and steps around the wooden desk, a handsome grin on his lips.

As he approaches you, his demon form materializes without warning.

“You’re lucky that I could use a break,” he tells you, hooking a finger beneath your chin and forcing you to face him. There’s a sadistic glint in his gaze, one that has you swallowing the saliva pooling in your mouth. 

“But don’t think I’ll be kind. As much as I’m thrilled to see you present yourself to me like this, next time, you need to be patient. Now--,” his wings flutter, and you gasp as he cages you against the door. His fingers curl around your throat.

“Prepare yourself.”

Mammon:

He’s in the middle of looking up “get rich quick” schemes on his DDD when you enter his room without knocking.

“Oh~” he greets lazily, not bothering to turn away from his current task. He knows it’s you, because you’d messaged him earlier, asking if he was free, and alone.

He had assumed that you just wanted to spend some one-on-one time with The Great Mammon, and who could blame you? 

“Mammon,” you call, a purr to your voice that makes the Avatar of Greed pause. Turning away from his DDD, he looks over and sees you leaning over his pool table, with your palms pressed against the edge of the wooden surface. 

You’re...stark naked.

He can’t see your ahem nether region thanks to the height of the table, but he can see the tops of your hips, and there’s a very clear lack of underwear.

“Wh--!” his hand flies to cover his mouth, a brilliant blush blooming on his face. “Where are your clothes?!”

You blink innocently. “I figured you might like this type of surprise. But if I’m wrong~”

You fake a disappointed sigh, turning and acting like you’re going to exit his room. 

Immediately Mammon is on his feet and vaulting over the pool table (quite literally). His arms wrap around your torso, hugging you protectively back against his chest. You can already feel that he’s semi-hard as his pelvis rubs against your ass.

“I...of course I like it,” he mumbles, pressing a soft kiss to your neck. “Ya just surprised me, is all…”

You giggle, lifting a hand to pet through his hair. “Would you like me to stay, then?”

His arms wrap tighter around you, teeth nipping at the skin of your throat. “As if I would let ya go anywhere looking like this, silly human...you’re staying here tonight.”

Levi:

When you excuse yourself in the middle of the game the two of you are playing, saying something about needing the bathroom, Levi doesn’t think much of it.

His attention is solely on the screen of his computer, concentration through the roof as he completes the boss battle without your help (he really hadn’t needed your aid, anyway. He just loved spending time with you in person, and in game.)

Levi is in the middle of picking up all the rewards the boss had dropped following its defeat, so he doesn’t notice you return to the room.

“Levi.”

Blinking, the Avatar of Envy glances over his shoulder, hearing your voice behind him. The moment he catches sight of naked body, his brain short circuits. 

With a surprised yelp, he instinctively swivels in his chair to face you, but his headphones catch--yanking his head back, and effectively making a mess of everything as the taut cord shoves an army of gingerly placed figurines from atop his desk.

Perhaps you should have waited for him to get his new wireless headphones from Akuzon before attempting this trend with him…

“Oh dear,” you sigh, an embarrassed blush spreading on your face as you survey the damage you’ve done. Levi is the same color as a tomato, his wide orange gaze shifting between your naked body, and the ceiling. Like if he stares at you too long, he’ll self-destruct.

“I’m sorry,” you say after a moment, sighing. “I thought surprising you might have been fun, but…”

Your voice trails off, a shiver raking up your spine as you feel something slick curl around your ankle. When you look down, you note it’s Levi’s tail. His demon form has materialized without you realizing. 

“No, i-it’s fine…,” you see him swallow harshly, his tail continuing to wind up your leg. He tugs you forward, closer to him. His hands hover near your waist, his eyes soaking in the sight of you. You can see a tent beginning to form in his pants. “Can I touch you?”

You nod, and in the next beat, he’s all over you.

Satan:

Per usual, he’s engrossed in a novel, so he doesn’t notice your disappearance behind a particularly large stack of books. Nor does he hear the sound of you shedding your clothes. 

Thankfully, he can’t miss the sound of his name falling from your lips.

“Satan.”

He turns his gaze away from the book, pausing when he sees you standing a few feet in front of him, completely nude. 

His eyebrows raise high on his forehead, grin tugging at his lips. Silently, he moves to place the book face-down on the arm of the chair.

His obvious satisfaction at your surprise has you unable to stop yourself from smiling.

“Like what you see?”

“You could say that.”

He presses to his feet and makes his way towards you--emerald eyes soaking in every inch of your revealed skin. When he finally reaches your side, his hands immediately reach out to grip your waist. His fingers give you a gentle squeeze.

“Is there some special occasion I should know about?” he asks, chuckling. You shake your head, reaching up to cup his face. His smile widens at the action, gaze falling to your lips.

“No occasion. I just wanted to see how you would react.”

“And is my reaction what you were hoping for?”

You lean in, connecting your lips with his. “Mhm~”

The two of you share a few kisses, before Satan is backing you into one of the many bookshelves, his knee slotting between your legs. 

He leans in, mouth hot against your ear.

“Getting the full experience of my reaction may take a few hours, just so you know.”

Asmo:

The Avatar of Lust has never heard of the human world challenge, same as his brothers, but he’s always more than open to seeing you naked, that’s for sure!

So, when you excuse yourself in the middle of your study-session--returning a minute later, and calling out his name so playfully--he’s thrilled at what he finds.

“Ooo~! Look at you!” He starts fanning himself, leaning back in his chair as he regards you with rapt attention. His honey colored eyes drag from the top of your head, all the way down to your feet, and back again.

“Will you turn for me?” He asks, biting his lip. You’re tempted to roll your eyes, but do as he asks--slowly rotating yourself so he’s able to see every inch of your nude skin. 

“Gosh, you should absolutely do this more often.” There’s a slight groan to his voice, a show of his satisfaction at your bold present.

“If I did, I have the feeling I’d never leave your room,” you respond with a laugh. Asmo jumps to his feet, making his way to your side. His fingertips roam over the skin of your arms, and he leans in to kiss you.

“Did you want to continue our study-session like this, or should I clear the bed?”

You smile against him. “I’ll leave that up to you.”

Asmo giggles, and before you know it, he has detached himself from you. He works quickly to clear his mattress of any notebooks, and loose papers.

“Shame on you for tempting me like this, when I’ve got a test coming up soon,” he scolds you, but there’s no real anger in his voice. Once the bed has been cleared, Asmo crawls atop the plush sheets and settles on his side, staring at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes. 

He beckons you with a roll of his finger. “Come here, darling.”

And you’d be a fool to disobey the Avatar of Lust’s command.

Beel:

He has invited you over to watch his favorite cooking show, but you’d left during the commercial break to go and grab some snacks (the ones he had already prepared long gone--filling his stomach).

It only takes you a few minutes to return, but since the program has started up again on the TV screen, Beel doesn’t bother looking up at the sound of the door opening.

“Y/N, hurry, they’re finishing up the dish,” he says, mouth practically watering. You silently make your way to his bed, dropping the snacks beside him. He mindlessly reaches for a bag of chips, attention still on the TV.

“Beel,” you finally speak. For the first time since your return, his purple eyes shift to look at you.

What he finds has the chip between his lips falling onto the sheets--his newly opened snack forgotten about. His adam’s apple bobs against his throat as he swallows, and you squeal in surprise as he suddenly reaches out--dragging you into him. 

You end up straddling his lap, one of his large hands gripping your waist, while the other moves to cradle the back of your head.

Just like that, his favorite program is forgotten about. 

“Itadakimasu,” he grumbles, mouth connecting with your shoulder.

He doesn’t question your lack of clothing--doesn’t need to know the reasoning for your current actions.

All he knows is that you taste better than his snacks, and are more entertaining than the cooking program.

Besides, he can catch the rerun later.

Belphie:

You decide to surprise him while attempting to wake him up from a nap.

After entering his room, you carefully shed your clothes, and then approach the side of his bed. He’s thoroughly snuggled beneath the covers, just his eyes, and messy hair peeking out from beneath the piles of blankets.

“Belphie,” you call out quietly, shaking his shoulder.

He groans, pulling away from your hand. His eyes don’t open, his groggy brain not ready to be awake yet.

“5 more minutes.”

You breathe a laugh, posing a hand on your hip. “Belphie, look at me.”

Despite not wanting to be awake, the Avatar of Sloth begrudgingly cracks his eyes open. His gaze falls on you, and you can see his eyes widen ever so slightly--the cogs in his brain beginning to move.

He stares at you for a few long seconds, eyes trailing the length of your naked body.

“Hehe~,” he extends his arms, the covers folding down as he reaches out and makes a grabbing motion at you, revealing the grin on his face.

You laugh, but nonetheless step forward into his waiting hands. Immediately he’s tugging you onto the bed beside him.

“Can you start waking me up like this from now on?” he asks, folding your head beneath his chin. His fingertips roam across back, settling near your waist.

“I have a feeling that if I do, we won’t ever actually get out of bed.”

He chuckles at your words, mouth moving to your ear. His teeth tug at your earlobe, and you can’t help but shiver.

“Hopefully that���s not an issue, because I don’t plan on letting you go now that you’re here.”

Solomon:

Despite being a magically inclined human, Solomon is a human nonetheless, so he’s aware of the tiktok challenge.

However, he never actually expects anyone to do it to him.

You’re chilling in his room at Purgatory Hall when he excuses himself to go and fetch a beverage. When he returns, he finds you right where you had been when he’d left--lounging atop his bed, on your stomach--but all of your clothes have disappeared.

For a half second, he wonders if he’d forgotten about a spell he’d cast on you as a prank. However, judging by the teasing grin on your face, and the glint in your eyes, your clothes have disappeared of your own volition.

Then, he remembers the tiktok trend.

“My apologies for not rushing to jump your bones like many of the men do in those videos.”

He walks over and calmly places the coffee mug in his hand on the nightstand. The bed dips a moment later as he moves to join you on the mattress.

However, rather than settle down beside you, he grips your shoulder and rolls you onto your back. Solomon then leans over you, caging you in as he lowers himself just inches from your face.

“While I may not have reacted like you expected, I’m more than happy to give you the same outcome.”

You grin up at him. “Which is?”

He smiles mischievously, his fingertips moving to dance across your ribs. You can feel magic buzzing on his skin.

“I think you know.”

Simeon:

Nothing can prepare Simeon for the moment he swivels around at his desk--his name falling from your lips, and beckoning his attention.

You’re over for a study date, and had excused yourself to the restroom for a moment. 

“Yes, Y/N--?” his voice catches when he spots you there--standing in the doorway to his bathroom in all of your glory. 

The Angel’s heart feels like it may beat straight out of his chest, his mind momentarily blue-screening as he stares at you.

“Wow,” he eventually breathes, raising a gloved hand to cover his blushing face. Despite obviously being flustered, his gaze still roams across you--only his mouth and cheeks hidden from view.

“Despite being a celestial, you’re truly the angel among the two of us.”

That gets you blushing, your arms hugging at your sides. Seeing you turn pink at his words has Simeon feeling a bit bolder, and he presses to his feet, moving to join you.

His arms wrap around you, pulling you into a tight hug, and he presses a kiss to your forehead.

“You’re so beautiful.”

“No you,” you mumble in response, pouting up at him, and wondering how he’d managed to turn the tables on you so easily. Simeon only laughs, leaning in to connect your lips. 

“Thank you...shall we move to the bed?”

Oh. 

“Yes, please.”

Diavolo:

Diavolo had been informed by Barbatos at the end of the student council meeting that you were waiting in his office for him.

Without a second thought, he had left to find you--assuming you wanted to talk about sometime in private with him. Which, honestly, he didn’t mind in the least, considering you were always good company.

However, the last thing he expects to find when he steps into his office is you, sitting behind his desk, in his oversized leather chair...completely nude.

You fold your hands onto the wood, smiling at him. 

“Good evening.”

There’s a playful glint in your eye, one that has Diavolo’s initial shock wearing off quickly--replaced with amused interest instead.

Closing the door behind him, the Demon Prince slowly makes his way around the desk.

“Is there something you need to tell me about?”

“Oh, no, I just wanted to surprise you,” you giggle, gasping when Diavolo suddenly reaches out and secures your waist.

He lifts you out of the black chair, seating you on his desk, and stepping between your spread legs. A blush dusts your cheeks, eyes widening as his grip slides down to your hips--his handsome face just inches from yours.

“Well, I certainly enjoy this type of surprise.” Diavolo grips your chin with his fingers, and guides you into a soft kiss.

“Perhaps you should surprise me like this after school hours more often.”

Barbatos:

While staying the weekend at the Demon Lord’s Castle, you volunteer to get up early and help the royal butler prepare breakfast. It’s a large job, considering the brothers, and other exchange students are staying over as well.

“Good morning, Barbatos,” you greet, stepping into the spacious kitchen. The butler, standing in front of the stove, takes a moment before turning to address you.

“Good morn--,” he begins, but pauses when he sees your state of dress. Or, rather, undress, considering you’re wearing absolutely nothing.

A light blush dusts his cheeks, and he coughs to clear his throat. 

“Have you misplaced your clothing? It’s not wise to cook in such a state.”

“I just wanted to see your reaction,” you respond with a laugh, stepping further into the room. He notices that your clothes are bundled in your arms. 

“Well, perhaps it is a good way to start the day off,” he comments, smiling as his eyes roam over your figure. 

Then, he’s moving away, walking to the edge of the kitchen to retrieve something you can’t quite see. When he returns to your side, you note that he’s holding a plain, white apron.

“I hardly mind such a sight to accompany the breakfast preparation, but I’d prefer if you not injure yourself.”

He slides the neck of the apron over your head, and then moves to your back--tightly securing the ties. You shiver when his gloved hand traces the length of your spine.

He smiles charmingly at the reaction.

“Shall we get to work?”

[forasecondtherewedwon]

Guest Side Story

Fandom: The Falcon and the Winter Soldier Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Sarah Wilson Rating: T Word Count: 3214

Summary: Sam told Bucky not to flirt with Sarah. But this is her house, so Bucky's pretty sure she makes the rules.

Bucky’s missed white lies. Ones that don’t hurt anybody.

“Is that cigarette smoke I smell on your coat, James Barnes?” “No, Ma. ’Course not.”

“And you’re sure this dame knows it’s my arm she’ll be on?” “Sure, Steve. She’s been after me to fix the two of you up for weeks.”

Stuff like that.

Past few years, Bucky’s either been transparent or a brick wall, all lies or all truth. Which one he loses more sleep over just depended on the day. The most human thing, he’s learning, is to work with a little of both: fact and fiction. Give something here, hold something back there. Lying doesn’t have to be mean-spirited and telling the truth doesn’t have to make him feel hollow and guilty. Maybe you can only realize this kinda thing when you find your way home, even if the home isn’t yours.

Bucky’s standing in the kitchen listening to Cass teach him how to fish. It’s purely theoretical, no gear involved, just the overexaggerated motion of Cass’s arm as he mimes casting. Laughing, Bucky lightly grabs the boy’s elbow before it can collide with the refrigerator on an especially big swing. Cass downsizes his demonstration without pausing the excited flow of his instructions.

AJ catches Bucky’s eye; from the look on his face, he’s beginning to suspect that Bucky might already know how to fish. While Cass is focused hard on his hands pretending to show how to fit live bait onto a hook, Bucky smiles at AJ over the smaller boy’s head and raises a finger to his lips. White lies. Let Cass believe he’s the expert.

When Cass is winding down, Bucky moves around him with a grin, carrying an empty plate to the sink.

“I got it!” AJ declares, whisking it from Bucky’s hand and pumping a squirt of dish soap in the center while his other hand runs the hot water.

Cass slotted the Pop-Tarts the plate lately held into the toaster for him (no better end-of-the-day snack, Bucky was told) and now AJ’s cleaning up. They’re a hospitable family, all day long. No phoniness, no insincere offers of help that they’re hoping Bucky won’t take them up on. He actually had to race the kids to the shed to store a toolbox earlier. On the boat, Bucky has room to put in the effort for the Wilsons, but inside the walls of their home he’s not allowed to do a damn thing because he’s a guest. Per square foot of property, he doesn’t think he’s ever been treated this well in someone else’s house.

“Fine,” Bucky concedes, “but I’m doing all the dishes tomorrow—breakfast, lunch, and dinner. And don’t get up early to drink a glass of orange juice and try to wash it before I’m awake, ’cause I’ll be listening.”

The boys giggle and Bucky leans against the counter, hovering while AJ hands the plate off for Cass to wipe dry and pretending not to listen to Sam and Sarah talking in the next room.

…But there isn’t a full wall separating the kitchen from the living room and Sam knows Bucky’s hearing’s good, right? He doesn’t think they’re discussing anything that private and if Sam’s annoyed with him later for what he supposes Bucky might’ve heard, Bucky’ll just offer up another white lie and swear he couldn’t hear a thing. And Sarah… Sarah wouldn’t think any worse of him if she knew. Bucky imagines she’d have a lot of compassion for his frequent urge to give Sam a hard time just for the hell of it. He flicks a quick glance over his shoulder, just to see her, and concentrates on what they’re saying, giving himself vague permission because he overheard his name.

“This was your idea,” Sarah’s saying. “You brought the stray cat home, just like when we were kids.”

“Don’t compare him to something cute,” Sam complains. Bucky’s mouth tenses to keep his smile from spreading too far.

“He is a guest in my home, Sam, and he’s more than earned it after the work he’s been putting in with the boat.”

“And what about the work you’ve been putting in watching him do that work?”

“Sam. Grow up.” Sarah’s voice is playful and Bucky almost turns, wondering what her expression looks like.

“So you’ve just been appreciating his skill with a wrench and some sandpaper,” Sam says skeptically.

“If I’m also appreciating his shoulders in that shirt— if—” she emphasizes when Sam tries to interrupt, “—it’s nobody’s business but mine.”

“Ok, you definitely can’t have him sleeping on the couch.”

“What do you think I’m gonna do? Try to sneak him to my bedroom after lights out? With you listening, trying to catch us? Uh uh. Your sister is a grown woman with two children, a home, and a boat she couldn’t manage to sell, and she can lust where she damn well pleases.”

Bucky snorts out a laugh and AJ gives him a funny look. Kid’s too perceptive.

“He’s tricky,” Sam lectures. “You can’t see it, but I do. I’ve been around him a hell of a lot more. You think he smiles like that at everybody? If he smiles at me at all, I gotta assume he just looked up and saw a meteor hurtling towards where we’re standing and is only smiling because we’ve got seconds to live and I won’t be able to tell anybody.”

“You are hilarious.”

“No, I’m not.”

“You’re telling me your friend is charming. That’s what you’re describing. Don’t I deserve to be charmed? Where else is he gonna sleep, huh? With you? In one of the boys’ little beds while they share the other one? Because I know you’re not suggesting we skip the pretense and put him right in with me.”

Sam lets out a noise of obvious frustration.

“Time to intervene,” Bucky tells Cass and AJ, leaving them to swap confused shrugs in the kitchen as he saunters into the living room.

“Hey,” Sam greets stonily, arms crossed over his chest.

Just for fun, Bucky decides to be all the friendlier.

“It’s so great of you to put me up. Thanks, Sarah. This beats a hotel by a mile.”

“Our gourmet kitchen does offer an impressive range of sugary cereal,” she jokes. “I might even cook you boys a special breakfast tomorrow before you head back to the dock.”

Bucky’s grin widens.

“Oh yeah? I wouldn’t wanna—”

“No, it’s no trouble—”

“Well, that would be—”

“Both of you stop it,” Sam orders.

“Sam, go outside,” Sarah orders right back. “Play some tag with your nephews.”

“Sarah, I’m beat. We’ve been working on that boat all day.”

“Mhmm, you and the rest of the neighbourhood. You worked all day and you come home and there’s still two kids to entertain. But guess what?” She smiles deviously at her brother and throws a few fake punches at his stomach. “You’re Sam Wilson, the Falcon! Looks like you’re special after all. Me and Bucky here know you’ve still got some gas in the tank. Go on.”

Sam looks fairly planted to the spot as he glares from his sister to Bucky, but he eventually moves with a lurching step.

“I’m gonna be right outside,” he warns.

Bucky sidesteps out of his path and says nothing, though it’s hard to resist the instinct to egg him on.

“We’re gonna have a super-secret discussion about which towels he can use,” Sarah goads at her brother’s back.

Sam ignores her, corralling his nephews in the kitchen and guiding them out the door into the fading daylight with a hand on each of their narrow backs.

“Great kids,” Bucky observes.

Sarah nods, watching her family disappear, then turns to him.

“We’re not really gonna talk about towels.”

“No?”

Bucky’s eyebrows rise in surprise and delighted anticipation until Sarah grabs a folded blanket off the back of the couch and passes it to him.

“We’re making up the couch.”

“Oh.”

This is ok too. Actually, really nice, standing next to Sarah and unfolding the blanket as she stuffs a pillow into a clean case. Her eyes find his already on her and he swears he almost blushes; he’s been smoothing out the same crease in this blanket for a good thirty seconds with no result, just watching her easy movements, the way she flips her braids back when they fall forward over her shoulder.

“I hope you’re comfortable,” she says, lingering once they’re done.

“I woulda slept on the floor. A closet, even, like Harry Potter.”

“You read Harry Potter? Don’t tell the boys—they’ll be bugging you to play wizards with them.”

Bucky laughs and shakes his head.

“Nah, I just watched the movie.”

“Which one?”

“There’s more than one?”

“You really better not bring it up then,” Sarah advises. “They’d try to tell you everything at once.”

“Yeah, wouldn’t want to get in out of my depth.”

It feels like a significant look they exchange after his words. Bucky wants it to be—he thinks he does—but he feels awkward, romantically clumsy. Heartstrings tied together like shoelaces, waiting to trip him up. He’s been telling himself she’s only being kind, but after eavesdropping on her conversation with Sam, he knows she’s interested. In his shoulders at the very minimum. Was that right? His shoulders? Just in case, Bucky does his best to square them. Can’t hurt.

He’s fucking ecstatic when Sarah does glance down briefly, her gaze returning to his face with something flustered in it. Sure, she’s a mom and she runs a business, but it’s like she told Sam: she deserves to be charmed. Bucky’s not entirely sure he’s doing it right though.

“So,” she says, “Sam was just being a pain when he tried to convince me you can’t sleep on the couch because you’ve got a bad back, right?”

Bucky sighs but keeps smiling. It’s natural in her presence.

“I’d say that’s him making old-man jokes about me.”

“I apologize for my brother and his bad manners.”

“Ah, he’s not totally wrong,” he concedes, perching on the arm of the couch. “These last few birthdays have required more candles than you could fit on a cake.”

“Then you just have to get yourself a bigger cake.”

Bucky laughs.

“I guess optimism’s pretty much a family trait?”

“We work at it. They say you need to take the good with the bad, but they don’t tell you that means creating the good out of nothing a lot of the time, if you want any at all. The Wilsons worked that out some time ago, so we mostly do alright.”

“It’s a good feeling to be around,” he tells Sarah earnestly. Clearing his throat, he gets to his feet. “Feels good, being around you.”

“We’re… I’m happy you could stay with us.”

The light’s softened in the room and her voice has gone with it. Bucky shifts on his feet.

“It’s a pleasure to be here,” he assures her.

Sarah’s eyelashes flutter when she looks from his mouth to his eyes. Probably too try-hard to bite his lip now. God, Sam thinks Bucky’s so suave with Sarah, but it feels like he’s only got one move and it’s fucking smiling. Some Casanova he is. Sarah, meanwhile, is beautiful and authoritative and generous and moving closer to toss the pillow he’ll rest his head on tonight onto the couch.

“Anything else you need to be comfortable?” she asks, gaze slipping from one of his eyes to the other. “Another pillow? Pajamas?”

“I’ve got some, but…”

“But?”

Sarah gives him a questioning look and Bucky starts summoning the courage to make a move. He’ll touch her waist—no, take her hand. He’ll cup her sweet face so there’s no doubt what he means.

“But,” he picks up, “if I get cold in the night…”

There’s longing in her eyes, Bucky knows it, but Sam bangs in the screen door right then, one nephew squealing where he’s been slung over Sam’s shoulder.

“Well,” Sam announces loudly to the house at large, “that’s it! No more gas in the tank! Everybody get to bed!”

Sarah appears sorry as she steps back. Bucky almost reaches out to pull her in, to take another shot with another lousy line. Shit, he’s bad at this.

“There are more blankets in the hall closet,” she says, and slips away.

“Thank you,” he calls after her.

Sam walks past, Cass still dangling upside-down over his back while AJ runs ahead, and watches Bucky like a hawk (or some other bird of prey) as he digs through his overnight bag. What’s Sam expecting him to pull out? A strip of condoms? Bucky extracts a green toothbrush and holds it up with an expression of fake wonder. Sam rolls his eyes and heads off down the hall.

They are going to bed early, barely 9pm. That’s probably late for the kids though. Bucky’s pleasantly weary after a day outdoors, more working than talking, feeling like part of something as the Wilsons’ community came together to repair the boat. Seeing Sarah throughout. Flashing Bucky a smile while she spoke to a neighbour, grasping his outstretched hand to let him help her aboard so she could see their progress, checking Sam’s work like she’s his foreman while Bucky grinned and watched the siblings good-naturedly pick at each other. Sam was probably out like a light and Bucky should be too.

He’s not.

He can’t get to sleep right away, but it’s peaceful to lie here on the couch, on his back, while the house gets dark and darker. Sarah left the nearest window cracked for him and a gentle breeze washes in with the chirp of insects. Bucky’s already looking forward to being woken by the sun streaming through in the morning. It’d be good to get from now to daylight in a single stretch of sleep; that’s what he fantasizes about while he lies on his back: no nightmares. His head’s propped up by the pillow he tells himself smells like Sarah, though it probably just smells like her laundry soap.

It’s hard to put his finger on what’s missing, why he can’t fall asleep, until he hears the soft shuffle of footsteps on carpet. They’re too close together to be Sam’s—either hesitant or made by child-sized feet. Bucky cranes his neck around, expecting to see someone walk past on their way to the kitchen for a glass of water. His gaze roams over nothing for a minute, then he slumps back as the footsteps retreat. Maybe it was Sam after all, getting up to look in on his nephews or something. It’s the sorta thing Bucky would do if he were an uncle; he’d treasure the time with those kids, try to remember everything about his visit so he could hang on to it when he found himself half a world away, in Berlin or Riga or Madripoor.

He’s settling, trapping the blanket against his chest with a heavy hand, when he hears the footsteps approach again. Then back away seconds later. Slowly, Bucky starts to smile to himself. It’s Sarah. Can only be her. She’s either trying to psych herself up to come in here and talk to him and failing, or trying to resist venturing down the hall and succeeding.

On her next attempt, she gets closer, and Bucky sits up, kicking the blanket aside, and drops his feet to the floor in anticipation of her rounding the corner. He’s nervously gripping the couch cushion on either side of his knees when she does.

“You sneaking past Sam?” he asks quietly.

Sarah jumps, pressing a hand to her chest.

“You scared me. I wasn’t sure you’d be awake.”

Bucky shrugs, dreamily fixated on her smile. One of her neighbours turns on their porchlight and now Sarah can probably see his smile too.

“Couldn’t sleep,” he says.

“Shoot. Did you need something else?”

Kinda funny how she’s pretending she was coming out here for another reason and is just making a detour for him. He knows better, but he’s got enough remnants of being a gentleman not to call her out on it.

“Nah. It’s nothing to do with you.” Bucky stares at her a few seconds and changes his mind. “You know what? Actually, it is you.”

“What is?” Sarah asks with a hushed, confused laugh.

“The reason I can’t get to sleep. Sarah…”

But she smiles and does what he did to the boys earlier—holds a finger to her lips.

With the confidence of a woman at ease in her own home and her own body, she steps forward. She wore a yellow t-shirt today, but the one she wears now is pale pink. It’s loose and worn and reveals the strong, elegant curve of her shoulder when she moves and it slips. Gazing up at her, Bucky shifts until he feels the back of the couch. His hands hover in the air as Sarah digs one knee, then the other, into the cushion on either side of him. She lowers herself onto his thighs.

Moving slow like the hour, deep like the black sky, Bucky runs his hands up her back.

Sarah’s palms land on his shoulders and, smiling, she confesses to him, “I like these.”

He’s smirking when she ducks her head to kiss him.

Now that he has her here—on his lap, in his arms—Bucky forgets every way he wanted to touch her earlier. How he was gonna woo her with tender contact applied just right. Well, thank god for Sarah. She sets the pace of the kiss and, when his hands go still at her upper back, reaches around to bring one of them back down to her waist. He can feel that there’s no bra beneath her shirt.

“Rusty,” he breathes when their mouths slide apart.

“You were on that old boat all day,” she reminds him. “You know I’ve got patience for rusty.”

Still, Bucky wants to do a little better, prove that maybe he’s what she had in mind when she decided he was worth smiling at. He cradles Sarah closer, pulling her in, dipping his fingers into the valley of her spine when she arches into him. They kiss firmer, then faster. At her quick nod of encouragement, he moves his hands to her hips. Lower.

“Sarah?” Sam slurs sleepily from down the hall. “You outta bed?”

Sarah presses a hand to Bucky’s chest and pushes off his lap, other hand over her mouth to muffle her laughter. He chuckles too.

“As the Falcon, timing is one of his greatest strengths.”

“And as his sister,” Sarah counters, “it gets on my last nerve.”

“Well, I didn’t wanna say that, but…” Bucky grins.

“Sarah?” Sam calls out again.

She sighs.

“Is he trying to wake the boys?” She takes a step away from the couch, wearing a regretful smile. “I better go.”

Bucky catches himself before he can blurt out I’ll miss you. Overeager fool.

“See you in the morning?” Sarah checks, something shy about her now, but not in a bad way. Cautiously hopeful, Bucky thinks. He’s been feeling that way himself.

He gives her one more smile for the road.

“You bet.”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Pressure

Finale to Push and Pull

Warnings: noncon sex, oral, violence, abuse, and death.

This is Lee Bodecker (who is already dark!af) and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Life changes and you’re swept up in the tide.

Note: Alright, here’s out final part! Lee is such a bastard man.

Hope you enjoy it. Thank you. Love you guys!

Please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

“You left a stain On every one of my good days” 

-Disease, Matchbox Twenty

🚔

Arn had quickly taken up your father’s mantle as a moonshiner. When he got home, he went to the shed and tinkered with the sill. He met with the same men your father had and even began to act like him. Quiet, terse. He ordered you and your brothers around as he emulated the dead man.

Will had grown quiet. In those days he spent at home with you, you’d noticed how distant he seemed. He was the youngest, the sweetest. When your mother had passed, he had been the most distraught but he seemed numb to your father’s absence.

And Cal; Cal was just as oblivious as ever. You almost admired how he always went through life without heed for the past or future. He only seemed to live in his own little bubble as he floated along; untouched and unaffected by the taint of Knockemstiff.

And you, you were just an afterthought in the lives of the men around you. You cleaned after them, cooked for them, and saw that all was in order for them to exist. They didn’t give a second thought to their dirtied dishes or torn trousers. They just left them for you to tidy and mend.

And Bodecker. You hated just the thought of him. Hated the way your stomach churned as you recalled that mighty heat he’d stoked within you. The feeling you knew was so wrong. How could you feel that way when he was touching you? When you didn’t want him to touch you? You didn’t want it, right?

Your nightmares were stained in your father’s blood. You woke with a start at the gunshot as it echoed inside your head. Every morning without fail. Visions lingered as you dressed; the gun, Lee’s voice, the blood seeping into the dirt. You shuddered and pressed your hands to your face. 

Had it really been so long? A month already.

You descended the stairs and yawned into your sleeve as you hugged yourself in the early morning chill. It was early, the men would not rise for another hour or so.

Maybe not. You heard the crackle of a log and the whisper of a page being turned. You stood in the doorway of the living room. Will sat on the rug before the fire, bent over a book as the flames licked behind the grate.

“I couldn’t sleep,” he spoke before you could. “But I’m almost done my book.”

“That’s good,” you neared and lowered yourself beside him, “What are you reading anyway?”

“Lord of the Flies,” he marked his page, “I think… I think it’s about good and evil. If people are born one or the other, you know?”

“Oh?” You crossed your arms over your knees.

“Yeah, I mean, if we were allowed to make our own rules, would we make them for us or the for the good of everyone?” He wondered, “Because even with the rules, we do the worst, don’t we?”

“I suppose but… the rules don’t really make much difference around here.” You snorted. “Not in this town.”

“You think it’s different somewhere else? In the city? Maybe in another country?” He chewed his thumbnail.

“I like to hope so, not that I’ll ever know,” you said, “Is this about daddy?”

He shrugged. He dropped his hand and stretched his long legs before him. “All the good went with mama.”

“Don’t say that,” you admonished.

“It’s true. How many times did he take the belt to you? And why? Because you made him think of her.”

“You really think that?”

“He was nasty to all of us,” he sighed, “But nastier to you. And I can’t even be sad that he’s gone.”

“Death is hard, Will,” you touched his shoulder, “It’s hard to know what you’re feeling about it. Sad ain’t so clear as it should be. It could be staring at the wall or tossing and turning in your bed or sitting up in the early hours and readin’ some book by yourself. It’s not always a feelin’, sometimes it’s in the things we do.”

“It’s just a book,” he muttered.

“But you lookin’ for daddy in it, ain’t ya? Askin’ if he was good or bad.”

“I know he was bad,” Will said, “It’s why I don’t feel bad for him. Probably ran his mouth at whoever it was who gave him what he got.”

“Don’t talk like that,” you took his hand and squeezed, “Please. For me.”

He looked at you. The light of the fire flickered in shadows across his face. “You know, you never had to take care of him. Or us. You should got out and married.”

“Maybe I didn’t have to,” you sidled close to him, “But how could I leave my little brother, hmm?”

“I’m a man now. Almost.” He said. “Arn won’t let you stay. I know it.”

“What do you mean?”

“Him and Rose from the diner. He’s gonna marry her. Won’t be no place for you here. Or Cal. Or me.” Will said. “And I’m gonna go work down at the yard. Or maybe the factory.”

“You should finish school.”

“For what?”

“You’re the only smart one. You could find your way. Get a degree.” You urged. “You should do all of that. You shouldn’t stay here.”

“And leave you behind?”

You sniffed and hung your head. “No, I’m grown. I’ll find my way and I won’t get in yours. You got half a year left. You’re too close to quit.”

“I don’t know…”

“Mama always wanted you to do something big. She always said you were special.” You said. “A lawyer? Maybe even a doctor. Imagine that.”

He was quiet. He squeezed your hand and wobbled his foot as he thought. “You should leave too. Leave this town. We could both go once I’m done school.”

“No, no, you can’t be takin’ care of me.” You argued.

“Why not? You’ve taken care of me.”

“Because that’s what women do. I promised mama I would.” You liked the idea of leaving but it was terrifying. Even if you did have that courage, you knew you wouldn’t be gone for long. And if fate didn’t bring you back, you expected something, or someone else, would. “If Arn decides to toss us to the curb, I’ll see you through the rest of the year and then you’re gonna go out and make mama proud.”

He nodded and leaned back on his hands. “I know no one else ever gave you a chance but you should start givin' yourself one. You’re too good for us. Too good for everyone in this damn town.”

🚔

When the Sheriff showed up next, you were alone. He walked into the house without knocking, as had become his habit, and sat at the table as you prepared a roast for dinner. He watched you silently and you tried to ignore him. You were waiting for his command. 

How did he want you? What vile things would he do to you that day?

“When’s the boys gettin’ home?” He asked.

“Soon,” you answered as you turned on the oven. 

“You got something sweet,” he reached in his pocket and pulled out an empty wrapped.

You slid the cookie jar towards you and plopped it before him on the table. “Made ‘em last night. Chocolate chip.”

“You’re always so good to me,” he smiled and you choked down your revulsion. “Too bad it took me so damn long to get here. I really wanted to have some fun.”

You turned back and opened the stove. You slid the roasting pan inside and snapped it shut.

“Them dresses you got, they really do nothin’ for ya,” he said through a mouthful of cookie, “‘cept when you’re bending over.”

“Why are you here then?” You crossed your arms as you turned back to him.

“I gotta talk to your brothers,” he said, “But let’s be clear on something, girl. You don’t ask me my business unless it’s to do with you.”

“I know about you,” you sneered, “Everyone does. Why don’t you get one of your whores and leave me alone?”

The chair nearly toppled as he stood and tossed down the cookie. He rounded the table and stomped over to you, cornering you against the counter.

“You’re my whore,” he snarled, “You got that?” He pinched your tit roughly. “Now, if I wanna, I can bend you over right now and let your brothers see what a whore you are.” He grabbed your chin and pushed his body against yours. “You should be flattered, you know? I ain’t touched another bitch since I been in you.”

You bit down and glared at him. Your lip curled but you said nothing.

“I ain’t gonna leave you alone,” he rocked his body against yours and exhaled. “What do ya think is gonna happen if I do? If I toss you out like the used bag you are? You got me or you got nothing. No man’s gonna marry a flower without her petals.”

He pushed harder against you until you could feel his bulge through his pants. His stomach crushed you against the counter. He leaned in and kissed you. You were shocked by the gesture, disgusted at how you could taste the chocolate on him.

“I really need to fuck you,” he growled as he drew away, “Fuckin’ hurts so bad.” He pushed himself from you and turned as he cleared his throat. The loud rumble of the Ford truck called from just outside as it pulled in. “Guess that means I’ll have to pay you back in kind.” 

You narrowed your eyes and went to the fridge. You poured him a glass and slammed it down as the front door opened and the boys’ voices mingled in the hallway. Bodecker drank deeply and cleared his throat as he watched you retreat.

Arn entered first, followed by the other two as they chattered noisily. “...in the shed, we-- Sheriff Bodecker,” Arn shook the sheriff’s hand as he stood. “Figured you were waitin’ for us. You know, we got everything sorted with the shine.”

“That’s good to hear but sadly I’m not here about that,” Bodecker said, “Other business. ‘Bout your daddy.”

“Ah, okay,” Arn glanced over at Cal as Will took a seat at the table and grabbed a cookie from the jar. Your youngest brother looked at you as he took a bite. “What’s, uh, what’s goin’ on?”

“Well, we think we got the prick who did it,” Bodecker began and you stiffened, “Found your daddy’s belt buckle and same caliber gun. Some rat down by the tracks. Been arrested before for robbin’.”

“You found him?” Cal asked, “Well, suppose that’s good.”

“We will be chargin' him to the full extent of the law. Shouldn’t see a free day ever again.” Bodecker said. “Out of courtesy, I figured I’d tell ya before the papers ran the story.”

“Thank you, Sheriff,” Arn said. “You know it’s been tough tryna get everything together since he been gone but… this’ll be good for all of us. Now that we have some peace about it.”

“Oh, you got big plans?” Bodecker asked.

“House is mine now. Figure I need a wife. And the boys… well, they gotta go find a place of their own, ain’t they?”

“Mmm,” Bodecker hummed, “And your sister, too.”

“We have an aunt. I’m sure she could use the company.” Arn said.

“What?” You sputtered, “You just gonna send me away to live with Darlene?”

“What else am I gonna do with ya?” Arn barked. “If I got Rose here to do my cookin’ and cleanin’, I don’t see the use in keepin’ you around. Don’t know why daddy didn’t find someone to take ya before.”

“I ain’t askin’ you to do nothin’ with me,” you huffed, “But I ain’t goin’ to Darlene’s. I’ll go out on my own. I’ll clean someone else’s floor and get paid for it in more than spit and stupid.”

Arn snarled and Will stood slowly from the table. Cal squinted as if lost.

“Now, now,” Bodecker clapped Arn’s shoulder, “Lots to be done, lots to be done. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. This is a lot. Big news. I say, take some time, have some of that shine your daddy left you, and calm down, huh?”

Arn looked at the sheriff and shook his head. “Yeah, yeah, you’re right, I s’pose.”

Will lingered by the table, his eyes never left his older brother as his hands balled into fists. You neared him and touched his arm softly. He glanced over at you, his face tensed with anger.

“I won’t let him do it,” he whispered. “I told you, we can get out together.”

“So let’s give it a day,” Bodecker boomed, “I’ll be back tomorrow. We’ll talk business and… well, I think you’ll be happier after we have all that figured out.”

Arn nodded and shifted his weight.

“You got big shoes to fill,” Bodecker said, “Gotta make sure you get ‘em laced on right.”

🚔

As promised, Bodecker returned the next day, this time after your brothers. He joined them in the shed, a relief as you worked at stitching one of Will’s shirts. Cal appeared as you held up the shirt and eyed your work. You sensed his shadow and dropped the fabric to your lap.

“Dinner’s almost ready,” you assured him.

“You need to come out to the shed,” he ignored your promise of a hot meal and you frowned. 

You stood and slung the shirt over the chair. You grabbed your jacket and boots and followed him out the door. You hadn’t been to the shed since before your daddy died. Your teeth chattered as you slipped through the door and Cal slid it closed behind you. Arn sat in your pa’s old armchair, Lee on a stool, and Will on the crooked bench with a space free for his other brother.

“I don’t know why she needs to be here,” Arn said, “But she is, so let’s get on.”

“Well, the only way you’re gonna expand across the county is through me, Arn,” Bodecker talked as if he were addressing a child. “And I’m up for re-election. That means we need each other. Means we need to set this little partnership we have down in stone.”

“How’s it that you need us, sheriff?” Cal asked as you swayed by the door.

“Well, my reputation ain’t exactly pristine. I need to tidy up the edges,” Bodecker leaned forward and twined his fingers together. “I’ll see that you get your shine from one end of the county to the other and I’ll also take a little weight off your shoulders. I need a wife and your sister needs a new home.”

Your mouth fell open and even Arn seemed surprised by the proposal.

“No,” Will said, “You can’t… you can’t marry her.”

“I don’t see why not. She’s gettin’ up there in years, I don’t see anyone else lining up.” Bodecker chortled.

“Because she--” Will looked at you helplessly. “She deserves to be happy.”

“I don’t think any woman be unhappy being the sheriff’s wife,” Bodecker hissed, “Won’t be no different than her cleaning up after y’all. If anything, it’ll be easier.”

“Take her,” Arn said, “Two birds, one stone.”

“And Cal, I’ll get him on the force by the end of the year. Always good to have another set of hands.” Bodecker continued. “He’ll make good enough money to get outta your hair.”

“And Will?” You said. All the men turned to look at you. “He’s gotta stay in school.”

“School ain’t shit,” Arn scowled.

“I don’t see why he can’t finish,” Bodecker said. 

“I ain’t takin’ care of him,” Arn said. “He either gonna work for his lot or he can live outside.”

“Say what you want about daddy, but at least he had the decency to see to us,” you said. “You think you’re the big man now he’s gone.”

“You better shut your fuckin’ mouth if you know what’s good for you,” Arn stood and the sheriff did too. He stepped in front of the younger man.

“She’s grievin’. You know the ladies don’t handle all this so well,” Bodecker said, “I’ll see after the kid. I was gonna up my take to twenty percent but I’ll settle for fifteen if you keep him on.”

“Up your take?” Arn scoffed.

“We’re gonna be family and I’m gonna make sure none of my officers get in your way. Boy, that’s gonna mess with numbers, you get me? You can’t get without givin’.” 

Arn lowered his chin and looked between you and Will. He blinked slowly.

“He got a roof till he’s done school. No longer than that.” Arn sat back down heavily, “And you be best to get a leash on my sister and quick. The sooner she’s out of my house, the better. Rose is getting awfully antsy.”

“Y’all got a date yet?” Bodecker said.

“Wait? Just like that? You’re gonna marry me off--”

“Fuck’s sake. You ain’t never know when to shut up!” Arn hollered as he reached for a jar of shine.

“And you’re gonna drink away your years just like daddy,” you snapped.

“Hmm, maybe, but you’re gonna do what I tell you and get on your back for our sheriff.” He spat, “Or I’m gonna dump you on the corner and you can see who else will have you.”

“Arn, you can’t--” Will began.

“You two can go off and see how far you make it,” Arn bit back, “I’m done arguin’. The next person pipes up, I’m gonna tar ya.”

You looked at Will and shook your head. You knew what wasn’t being said. If you didn’t do what you were told, it wasn’t that you’d be out of your home. You wouldn’t have anything. The sheriff had a stranglehold on every citizen in the county. He’d make sure you were helpless until you were forced to grab his outreached hand. You’d take what he gave you, as you had to that point.

“Fine…” You uttered, “You know what mama would think, Arn. As much as you think daddy’d be proud, you know she wouldn’t.”

“Go back to your kitchen,” Arn took a gulp of moonshine, “You got a month, Sheriff. You get her out and you got your fifteen.”

🚔

You didn’t expect your wedding day to be so gloomy. A winter ceremony in the town church with a man you didn’t and couldn’t love. You’d always thought you would wear your mother’s old gown but he wasn’t worthy of that. So you wore the plan dress from the local shop with a short veil and a pair of white flats.

The sheriff had done his best to clean up for the ceremony. Freshly shaved, hair combed neatly, his stomach barely continued above his cumberbund. This man, your husband, your jailer. 

Your brothers sat in the first row as you listened to the priest. Your vows were nothing special, the same template handed out by the church. To love and obey. Only one of those would be true. You stared at the loose stitches of the veil, your surroundings blurred beyond the white lace.

You hated Arn for trading you away like livestock but you knew deep down your father would’ve done the same. He would’ve done worse. You recalled his last words; he would’ve had you on the street. Maybe this was the best you could hope for.

The room came back into focus as your veil was lifted. Your husband kissed you. He still sent a shiver up your spine every time he touched you. You turned back to the audience, his hand around yours as he led you between the rows of strangers. Your brothers were the only familiar faces though they were hardly welcome. 

Arn had quickly taken up your father’s part in mistreating you, Cal was his mindless followers, and Will, you only saw pity in his eyes. Bodecker guided you between the pews and the doors open to the frigid winter afternoon. He ushered you to the waiting car and was quick to climb in behind you. There would be a dinner awaiting you at town hall; a whole room rented out for the occasion.

“So,” Bodecker’s hand settled on your thigh, “Are you wearing it?”

You nodded. He had brought you the lurid attire only nights before. A lacy brassiere and satin panties, stocks and frilly garners; all in as if you were still a virgin. He stretched his arm over your shoulders and pulled you close.

“It’s gonna just be you and me, honey,” he purred, “No more hiding.”

“Yes, Sheriff,” you spoke into your lap.

“Lee, or sir. No need to act strange anymore,” he dragged his nose up your cheek and his hot breath choked you. “I can’t wait until tonight. I’ve been holdin’ it in so long, god, I could blow now.”

“You know I hate you, don’t you?” You looked at him dead in the face.

A smile slowly spread across his face as he played with the hem of your veil. “Well, don’t really matter now, does it?”

🚔

Bodecker, Lee, your personal tormenter; whoever he was, ate as you avoided the same. You felt too sick to do anything but wait out the night. You accepted the congratulations of family and friends that weren’t yours and bided your time as he did all the talking. You expected your new life would be filled with these people eating out of the hand of their sheriff in hope that he didn’t swat their heads.

He drove you home in his cruiser. A strange end to a strange state of affairs. His house was large and closer to town. It was more modern than your father’s old farmhouse but not so tidy. A man living on his own didn’t have time to do his dishes before his wedding or put his used socks in the hamper

He closed the door behind you as you looked around. Cleaning was never a pleasure for you, an obligation, a ritual which kept you from dwelling on the bad. At that moment, you wanted to clean up the mess of this man’s life to keep from dealing with your own.

You jumped as he slapped your ass hard enough to make you stumble. You rubbed the stinging flesh beneath your dress and drew away from him. He caught your arm before you could go far.

“The bedroom’s through there,” he nodded to the doorway on the other side of the room, “A lot better than the car… and the coffee cups… hmmm?”

“It’s all the same,” you muttered.

“It gets better each time,” he pulled you against him and groaned. “You’ll see it soon. You’ll feel it.” He leaned in and his hot breath tickled your lips. “Go to the bedroom, get that dress off and wait for me.”

He tapped your ass and let you go as he turned away. He removed his jacket and hung it as you watched his back. You looked at the door. Where would you even go? Your mama once told you marriage wasn’t for love, it was practical. A roof over your head. What more could you ask for?

You walked down the hallway and stopped to look at the picture. The fresh-faced corporal didn’t look like the ruddy cheeked man with the wrinkle above his brow. Even in black and white, his eyes seemed brighter then. You tore yourself away and found the bedroom at the end.

You supposed you were different too. Different from yesterday, different from a month ago, a year ago, ten years ago. So much could change in so little time. 

You reached back and unhooked the top of your dress. You struggled to undo each button along your spine as the fabric drew taut across your stomach. A week ago, the dress had seemed looser, same with much of your wardrobe. 

You shimmied out of the dress and folded it over the walnut dresser. You looked down at yourself and the underwear better fit to the racy scenes in the theatre. You didn’t dress like this. You weren’t Marilyn or Elizabeth. You were just you and you were entirely out of place. 

You slipped out of your shoes and unpinned your veil. The ring on your finger chafed your skin. You sighed and turned to sit on the bed. It bounced beneath you as you toyed with the diamond. Say what you would of the man, it had all been adequate. More than.

“You look good,” Bodecker said and you raised your head as he entered. He began to undress as he strutted across the room. “Wife.”

He unbuttoned his shirt as he neared the bed. He looked down at you with a smirk as his bowtie hung loose from his neck.

“You know what would happen if I didn’t marry you?” He pulled his tails loose and wiggled out of the shirt. He tossed it away with his tie, his stomach poking out slightly from his undershirt. “I mean, you could have my bastard inside you right now. You think anyone else wants it?”

Your eyes widened and your lashes fluttered. You bunched up the blankets in your hand as you teetered on the edge of the bed. You shook your head.

“You see, unlike all those whores, you got more than what’s between your legs,” he unbuckled his belt and undid his fly. “You work, real hard. And despite yourself, you’ll always need someone to take care of.”

He reached into his underwear and rubbed himself before pulling out his cock. You closed your eyes as he groaned and reached out to caress your cheek.

“Open your mouth, honey,” he purred. “Let me show how a wife serves her husband.”

You hesitated and he gripped your chin. He squeezed, a warning, and you opened up. He pressed his tip against your lips and pushed so that you let him in. His skin was salty and warm as it slid over your tongue. He hit the back of your throat and your eyes welled.

“Mmm mm mm,” he hummed, “That is good. Come on… just a little--”

He grunted as he forced himself down your throat. You choked and he shuddered as his hands held your head firmly. He moved his hips carefully. He slid back and slammed back in. Your eyes rolled back and you tried not to gag as he repeated the motion, each thrust harder than the last.

“Fuck, girl, I love that mouth,” he cooed, “Now it’s all mine.”

He pulled you forward as he pushed himself as deep as he could. He jerked into you even harsher than before and you grabbed the top of his pants. He dragged you off the bed and you fell to your knees. He fucked your face and shoved your head back against the mattress. He planted a hand on the bed and hammered into you over and over. Slobber spilled down your chin and you slapped helplessly against his thigh.

“Fucking take it,” he growled.

Your vision began to spot as you went limp and he stopped suddenly, halfway down your throat. He snarled and slipped out of your mouth and let you drop to the floor. You leaned forward as you coughed and his belt jingled as he stripped off his pants.

He stepped past you and climbed onto the bed. He fell heavily on his back as you looked up and bent his hands behind his head. His cock stood, glistening, and he grinned.

“Better climb on, girl,” he said, “We ain’t done yet.”

You grabbed the edge of the bed and pulled yourself up. One knee, then the other, you crawled over to him. It was the first time you’d seen him entirely naked. You stood shakily and reached to the top of the satin panties.

“Ah,” he tutted, “Just pull ‘em to the side.”

Your brows drew together but you didn’t argue. Your only hope was to bide him until you were on your own. Make yourself numb to his company and you could reward yourself in your solace.

You got down on your knees and reached between your legs. You took him in one hand and pushed your panties aside with other. You paused as his tip prodded at your entrance then lowered yourself onto him. You withdrew your hands and the satin was taut around the side of his shaft. You stilled and tried to adjust to the fullness.

“Well, come on,” he grabbed your hips and tilted them, “Move.”

You carried the rhythm and rocked atop of him. Your crumpled panties rubbed against your clit and added to the storm brewing in your core. His hands swept up your sides and he cupped your tits through the lace bra. His thumbs rubbed your barely concealed nipples and he groaned.

“Shit, it’s so good, honey. So good.” He moved his hips beneath you, “Faster.”

You obeyed and he tugged down the cups the brassiere. He pushed his head into the pillow and gritted his teeth. He grabbed your sides and pulled you to bend over him. He nuzzled your titts and nipped at the tender flesh. He took a nipple in his mouth and sucked as you kept your hips moving.

His hands skimmed over your curves and he gripped your hips. He pulled your ass down harder and you flesh clapped against his loudly. He turned his head away as your breast hung over him and you sped up. You were close. So close.

“I’m gonna cum,” he rasped, “I’m gonna--”

You threw back your head and cried out as you orgasmed first. You dug your nails into his arm as you fucked him through your climax and felt him burst inside of you. That joy, that second of joy, was enough to forget, a spark of happiness before it all came back.

You slowed and stilled atop him, out of breath. You sat up, the straps of your bra sagging down your shoulders as he tickled your thighs.

“You know,” he poked his finger between your legs and flicked your overwrought clit. You twitched and he chuckled. “I can’t wait til you got my child inside of you. Seein’ you all big. I’m still gonna fuck you.” His other hand rubbed your stomach, “If you’re anything like your mama, we’ll have a whole herd of our own.” He licked his lips as he took your hands and placed them on his chest. “But you remember, your husband always comes first.”

[the-melting-world]

VIII. Strength | No Escape

Asra x Reader

Enjoy these daydreamy highlights from Asra’s Route! Masterlist

cw: mild lemony content 🍋

In-Route Prompts & Options Selected Prompt: Do you dance like your companion? I've feasted with Asra before. He can dance all night Options: Ask Asra to dance with you / Sit in the corner with Asra *Coins* Prompt: “Someday we’ll have time” Options: "We have time now" / "We have to go..."

~ 1.2k words

****

After you and Asra free the spring from that awful swarm of beetles, Saguaro offers to cook you up a feast.

You’re not sure if that is completely necessary, but the thought of spending the twilight hours with good food and Asra for company has you thinking twice about turning down your host.

Afterwards when you’ve said yes and looked at some interesting fox carvings, Saguaro asks if you can dance like Asra. He claims that the magician could easily dance all night.

Hmm. Strange. You’ve definitely seen Asra sleep all day, but the thought of him dancing all night was a stretch.

If it was true, you wonder… would Asra dance with you?

When you ask him, there’s a little awkwardness at first. Eventually he comes to realize your meaning and soon the two of you are crossing the stretch of hard earth to where the music is the loudest and the crowd is the thickest.

You try to reach for Asra’s hand, but he steadies your wrist and says, “Hold onto this.”

He unravels his red scarf from his shoulders and loosely ties one end around your outstretched wrist. You grab hold of the slack while he ties the other end in a similar way around his tanned forearm.

“Ready?”

You admit that you don’t think you’ve ever danced this way before. Something in Asra’s amethyst gaze grows heavy, but not in a bad way.

“You’ll never know all the steps,” he says, “so just follow me and the music.”

You promise that you will try.

Asra makes it easy for you. As you spin and lose sight of him with each rotation, you rely on the tension in the scarf to figure out where to go. Asra is spinning too, in and out and under the scarf. You can tell by the way he breaks out into a light sweat and constantly checks your reaction that he’s showing off just for you.

You almost lose your footing when Asra suddenly engages both of his hands and liberates the scarf from your wrist. You end up stumbling right into his arms with the scarf sliding down your backside and bringing you in.

You brace your hands against Asra’s shoulders as the two of you slow down until you’re gently swaying from side to side. Asra sighs and rests his forehead against yours.

“Should we head home? We have a long trip ahead of us.”

It seems like there is something else he wants to say – something about the way you danced just now, but it’s clear that he won’t voice whatever it is aloud.

So you simply nod and say, “Let’s go.”

When the two of you return to the house, Asra is all deep sighs and somber looks. His worry only seems to fade whenever his eyes meet yours or when the two of you are touching.

“It’s kind of cruel, having such a short escape. I wish we could stay longer.”

Though you won’t voice it aloud, you completely agree with him. Still, there are people in Vesuvia who need you. Nopal will still be here when the two of you have a chance to return.

You remind Asra that there’s no time like the present. At the moment, you’re not really sure what you mean by that. You think that for now, it just means you want to be close to him.

An undercurrent of excitement builds in Asra’s expression.

“I was hoping you might say something like that.”

The two of you shed your layers into something more comfortable and climb into bed like you’ve done so many times before.

But if this was supposed to be routine, why are you so hesitant to relax beside him?

Through the window, the desert moon paints Asra in a different sort of light. You appreciate the shadows and highlights in his features as he expresses that he wants to help you get warmer. He lines up his body with yours, bewildering you once again by the level of comfort you two share and how well you fit against him.

He has so much heat that he’s willing to give you. He would let you have it all, you realize. He would let you have everything he could give him if you only ask.

He breaks your contemplation, drawing your chin up to meet his eyes, which were now a deep indigo in the moonlight. The same color as the carving of the fox he showed you earlier that day.

Take, take, take, he says.

Oh.

Was it wrong to have these reactions to his words? If not, could you even call it right? You had to admit, these days you tire of all this confusion and not recognizing your own feelings towards Asra.

“I just need you,” you say, feeling the meaning behind those words deep in your gut.

And Asra feels it too.

Several emotions race across his features as he inhales and shifts his entire body so that he’s straddling yours. You freeze as his forearms cage your head against the pillow. He draws close, his lips parted, his pale eyelashes dipping in the cool dark.

“You have me.”

Under him. On top of him. Dancing in the desert sunset with him. You don’t care.

You could have Asra any way the universe chooses to give him to you – it would be enough.

Overwhelmed by the thought, you kiss him. You take on his weight and the fullness of his touch. You part your lips and soften your jaw for his. In between the movement and the heated kisses, Asra promises that he’s there to stay. He’s not going anywhere.

The longer the two of you hold onto each other, the lighter you could feel Asra becoming. You wonder if every night after this could be one filled with warm affection and soft confession.

The two of you come to a point where the friction between your restless bodies can no longer be ignored. Asra wants you and you want him back.

“How can I bring you back here?” Asra groans as he kneads his hips between yours. Though you’ve both shed most of your layers, there’s still plenty of fabric in the way. Still, you can feel Asra’s need growing. You can hear the strain in his voice as he tries to hold back so he can process his doubts. Your body craves to be closer, closer, closer… but it’s clear that he needs some kind of reassurance.

It goes against everything your body is telling you, but you ask Asra if he wants to slow down and talk about it. The magician pants and swallows. “We should, shouldn’t we? We should slow down.” Still, he’s gripping your waist and smoothing his own up and down your pelvis and over your thigh.

Then he pauses and shakes his head, blinking some clarity back into his eyes. When he rolls back into the spot beside you, you sigh with a little bit of relief and frustration.

Asra’s eyes are clear and seeking.

“Let’s talk about this.”

Your response is straightforward. You’re going with him this time.

Back to Vesuvia.

[young-dumb-and-vaccinated]

The Cult Girl (Hannibal x Female!Reader) pt. 7

Sorry this took so long y'all. This chapter was difficult to write. Hannibal invites Theresa for dinner and y/n finally confronts her.

Trigger warning: mentions of suicide, child sex abuse; graphic descriptions of violence; confronting an abuser; body-shaming

The stitches in your cut hadn't even dissolved before Theresa intruded on your life again. Before you stormed out, Hannibal did in fact invite her to dinner. Polite society would rule the invitation null and void after that confrontation, but Theresa felt herself exempt from the laws of politeness. Like Evangelicals or craisins, Theresa loved to insert herself where she was clearly not wanted.

Of course, you were peeved at Hannibal for upholding the invitation when she called. But you could tell he had something planned. He was intrigued by her audacity and wanted to see how far it would take her. You couldn't begrudge him professional curiosity, as you too wondered what the fuck her problem was.

In truth, you saw what he did to your grandma, and you wanted to see him do it to Theresa. You wanted her subject to the same psychological torment that she put you through. And that, you realized, was why he honored that invitation. He wanted to vindicate you. And that was the sexiest damn thing you could possibly imagine.

Theresa showed up alone. That was her first mistake.

"Thank you for having me, Dr. Lecter." Theresa greeted, shedding her long coat and dropping it to the ground. "Will [F/N] be joining us?"

"[F/N] will most certainly be joining us." Hannibal said, his voice hardening. He noticed her coat in a pile on the floor and something in his head clicked.

"I hope I'm not overdressed." Theresa tossed her hair over her shoulders. 

She was. And you knew even before she showed up that she'd wear that green evening dress with the plunging neckline. It was the same one she wore to prom. She kept it as a memento all these years to memorialize the day she completely fucked you over. 

She was here to make history repeat itself. 

"Not all, Ms. [L/N]," Hannibal grinned, glancing at the staircase. "[F/N] is just touching up her makeup.”

“That sounds like [F/N].” Theresa laughed. “She always took the most time getting ready in the morning. And she was always the ugliest. It was quite sad, really.”  

Hannibal reminded himself what he had in store for Theresa before letting himself get angry. “If you could join me in the kitchen, I could use a little help with the appetizers.” 

Theresa took the bait and followed him through the threshold into the massive kitchen. 

“Could I trouble you for some psychological advice, Doctor Lecter?” She said, leaning against the island.

“That depends.” He answered, though the tone of his voice connoted a firm ‘no’. “Are you going to be honest with me?” 

Theresa mounted herself on top of the island and crossed her legs. “I’ve just been having quite a bit of trouble in my marriage.”

"Please get off my counter." Hannibal politely demanded. "I just sterilized it this morning."

“My husband just isn’t so excited by me anymore.” She pouted like a child. “He just doesn’t seem interested in... well, any of the things I have to offer him.” 

“Have you considered the possibility that you have nothing to offer?” You said. You approached them with purpose, the skirt of your purple dress fluttering behind you. Your favorite pair of strappy heels clacked against the tile and echoed through the room with every step. 

“[F/N] makes a valid point.” Hannibal agreed, taking you under his arm. “You’re an abusive narcissist, a serial adulterer, and you’re quite horrible at flirting. I certainly don’t understand what you could possibly have to offer.” 

“Nice to see you again, [F/N].” Theresa said, resigned to her defeat. “I didn’t want to say anything at the wedding, but you look like you’ve gained a few pounds.” 

You almost laughed. Growing up, Grandma had subjected you to every form of body-shaming known to man. Nothing Theresa could say would have any effect on you. 

“Really? Because I’ve never felt better in my life.” You smiled, knowing it to be true. “Hannibal is an amazing cook. You’d probably gain weight too if you were eating so well.” 

"Well, I have appearances to keep up." She refuted. "Gideon and I both have very busy schedules. Besides, he finds the kitchen more of a woman's domain."

"Unfortunate for you." Hannibal threw a dish towel over his shoulder and picked up a wine bottle by the neck. He kept his hands busy by pouring three glasses of wine. "That Gideon does not put in the time to keep you well-fed and fulfilled. Might I suggest not molesting children as a remedy?"

You snickered as he handed you a glass. You migrated to the dining table, where the trial was set to take place.

"Did you invite me here just to gang up on me?" Theresa leaned back in her chair. "Because if so, that's really mature."

"Of course not." You said, Hannibal pulling your chair out for you. You placed your napkin in your lap. "Well, maybe a little."

Theresa took a long sip of wine. "You're not going to get an apology if that's what you're after."

"Oh no." You shook your head. "I've stopped expecting basic human decency from you years ago."

"Good." Theresa huffed. "Since that's clearly what you want me to be, that's what I'll be."

"Don't give me that shit." You sighed. "I know what gaslighting is and you're not as good at it as you think."

"Y'know I never asked to be a parent figure to you and Anna." She crossed her arms.

"You may not have asked for it but you sure as hell enjoyed it." You countered, furrowing your brow. "Don't act like you weren't the dictator's right-hand man. You sucked up to grandma and always got preferential treatment."

"I was a kid." She shrugged. "You're really gonna blame me for the shit I did before my skull fully hardened?"

"Well, it exposes a way larger pattern of behavior." You explained. "You're a megalomaniac that wants power without responsibility. So you attach yourself to someone with power, probably another narcissist who's too self-involved to see what a leech you really are. It's what you did with grandma and it's what you're doing with Gideon."

Dressing Theresa down like that gave you a rush. It made you feel alive. But more importantly, it made her look small. It stripped her of her power.

"Well done, Sherlock." Theresa taunted. "But you're forgetting one thing. If I were a megalomaniac, why would I waste my time beating up on you? Some nobody with no power to speak of?"

"Because I'm a living reminder of your past." You narrowed your eyes. "I remind you that you can't just beat everyone into submission."

"Ladies," Hannibal interrupted, holding three bowls. He placed one in front of you, the savory broth enticing your nose. "This is pot-au-feu. It is a simple French stew made from beef, vegetables and potatoes. I added a marrow-bone for extra richness. It's the perfect combination of simplicity and substance."

You couldn't even wait for Hannibal to sit down. You'd been so hungry all day. Smelling the meat slowly braise over the course of the day was torturous. You went straight for the marrow, which was a recent favorite of yours.

Theresa picked the bone up between two fingers and dropped it onto the table, her face wrapped with disgust. "I think I'll pass. I'm not a dog."

"You are not." Hannibal said, spearing a piece of meat on his fork. "I find dogs much better company."

Theresa tented her fingers and glared at Hannibal. "So you're just going to let her rip into me? Aren't you supposed to be the professional here?"

"Don't discount [F/N]'s analysis just because she is a student." Hannibal glared back at her. "From what I know about you, she's dead on."

"Isn't this entire interaction a professional conflict of interest?" Theresa folded her arms. "I don't trust her to analyze me because she hates me."

Hannibal put his utensils down. Anger flashed across his face. "I don't think you quite understand what this interaction is. You are not owed an unbiased psychological profile, especially not from me. You are not my patient. You are [F/N]'s abuser."

Theresa narrowed her eyes and leaned over the table. "So if you understand that, why am I here?"

"You think very highly of your intelligence, Theresa." Hannibal glanced down at his dish. "Perhaps you can figure that one out yourself."

You coughed, narrowly avoiding choking on your food.

"Darling, please pace yourself." Hannibal instructed, though he seemed pleased with how enthusiastically you inhaled your meal. "You're going to make yourself sick if you eat too fast."

"I'm sorry." You said after taking a long sip of water. "I don't know why, I'm just so hungry today."

Hannibal dropped his eyebrows, looking worried. "Did you take your medicine this morning?"

"I think so." You nodded.

Theresa smiled and reached for her phone. The movement caught Hannibal's attention, and he could tell what she was up to right away.

"Theresa, it's very rude to text at the dinner table." He scolded, taking a sip of wine. "Surely, anything you're saying to your grandmother and Anna, you can say to us."

Theresa, too proud to back down, slipped her phone into her purse and met your eyes. "You're pregnant."

"Brilliant fucking deductive reasoning." You rolled your eyes. "A woman gains a little weight and has a healthy appetite? That's the only logical conclusion I would draw."

"Well, aren’t we defensive?" Theresa taunted. "Congratulations, by the way."

"Theresa, stop it." You gritted your teeth, trying not to convey how pissed you were.

"You're going to need to drop out of school to take care of the baby full time." Theresa sneered.

You knew exactly where she was taking this and you wanted more than anything to just disappear. You reached for the wine bottle and refilled your glass. "Shut up, Theresa. Shut the fuck up before you say something you'll regret."

Her face lit up from the satisfaction of finally making you angry. "And someday you'll blow your brains out just like your mother!"

This time, she would regret it. You chucked the empty wine bottle across the table. It hit her directly in the face with a deafening crunch before ricocheting off the table and shattering on the ground.

Theresa brought her finger to her nose, noticing the stream of blood trickling from her nostril. She stood up, stabilizing herself with the back of the chair.

"I didn't think you had it in you." She jabbed before collapsing to the ground.

You went silent, too afraid to look at Hannibal.

"For what it's worth, darling." Hannibal piped up. "I always knew that you did."

[beigehearts]

The adult trio getting embarrassed- drabbles I was wondering what would make them embarrassed and I was gonna make hcs but I thought that it would be more immersive and make more sense if it was a story . Also I feel like only verbal affection and emotional affection could affect illumi and hisoka so they have fluff stories but since Chrollo is somewhat more stable- verbal and emotional affirmation doesn't get him embarrassed so his is a bit nsfw fem!reader

Illumi (fluff)

He's been gone for weeks, leaving his girlfriend behind at their quiet and lonely apartment. Illumi doesn't live with you- he lives in an absolute mansion so why would he? But he spends a lot of time with you, in your apartment. Some nights after a long day at work, you'll come home and he will be sleeping in your bed or staring out the window, waiting for you.

Though you haven't had those fun surprises lately, he's taken on a big mission and you've learned you'd rather not know what it is he doing so you don't ask. It's getting quite lonely and your job as a secretary hasn't been letting up. Your boss just got a big contract so work has been hectic.

You push the door closed behind you with your foot, dropping your bag at the door and groaning. What a day, your fingers hurt after typing non stop today. There's no time to make dinner, there's no time to get dressed in pajamas, there's no time when you have the dire need to sleep. As you walk towards the bedroom, you kick off your shoes, shed your shirt and skirt. Once you reach the bedroom you see the line of clothes leading to you, but you don't really care at the moment. You throw the pins from your hair into the darkness of the room.

That beautiful bed is only steps away, the oasis from the desert you've been navigating all day. You crawl into the bed, eyes closing before you even get under the covers, but once you are you wonder if heaven is real and if it's your bed. Your eyes shut with a mind of their own, and only seconds later you're dragged into the dark depths of your mind.

It must have been hours, it's still dark out so not too long though. You force your eyes open as if there are weights holding them down. You immediately recognize the unusual warmth around you and a smile pulls at your lips.

"Why didn't you tell me you were coming home today?" You ask sleepily.

He kisses your forehead, "I didn't think about it."

You nuzzle your face into his chest, and he holds you closer. "You know, I missed you. A lot." You try to dig further into his chest but you're as close as you can be to him. "I was worried, you didn't message me the whole time you were gone. Do you know how lonely I was?"

His brows furrow though you can't see it. "You were lonely?"

You nod, "It felt like part of me was missing. I was worried I would be left empty forever. You said it would be a week and it's been eight." A sigh escapes you, "It's hard to not be around the person you love most Illumi."

It goes silent, and you look up at his face to see if he has anything to say. His face is flushed, you can even see it in the dark. It's such a contrast to his pale skin. He always acts weird when you say you love him or imply it.

Your small smile grows into a large grin, "I'll wait for you to say you love me back."

Hisoka (fluff, slightly sexual)

Classes have been difficult, you failed your big test and you practically got on your knees and begged your professor to let you retake it. You already know you're in for a long night of studying. Which means you're also in a night for a moody boyfriend. You will have to make it up to him later though, this test is too important for you to be worried about anything else.

On the way home your friend asks you to come over to help her with some problem with her laptop. You went and helped even though you really already should've been home. Your old beat up car scrapes through the coffee shop drive through at 5 pm, and you grab yourself a super caffeinated coffee to help you through the night.

The house is quiet when you get home, which is perfect, that way you'd have a little while to study without a whiny boyfriend. An hour or so later, you're sitting cross legged on your chair, leaning forward and highlighting things in your book. One leg bounces with the energy of caffeine, though half of you is ready to pass out.

The front door creaks open but you pay it no mind. You're beginning to connect ideas to one another and you can't let anything stop you. The clicking steps towards your chair are nothing but background noise at the moment. Long, muscular arms wrap around you from behind. "Pet, I had a long day, come lay with me." He whines in your ear.

You don't say anything, the squeaking of your highlighter against the paper says enough.

"I can give you a massage, I'm sure you need it." His hands roam your form but you continue doing what you need to.

While still highlighting and writing things down on a piece of a paper, you say, "Tomorrow night, I'm really busy Hisoka. I need to pass this retake tomorrow. It's important."

Obviously that isn't a good enough answer when he grabs you by your hair and pulls your head back. You know he isn't being mean, he knows you like your hair pulled and hopes it gets your attention. Obviously it does but you don't show it.

"Oh come on baby, just lay down with me for a little bit."

You pull your head forward even though he still has a tight grip on your hair. His lips wander your neck, sucking at random spots on your skin, leaving blossoming red marks.

You stand up abruptly and drag Hisoka to the couch. You push him on it and straddle him. You sigh and lean towards his face, "Hisoka Morrow- I am trying to do work."

He grins and his hands travel down your back until they end up holding your ass, and bringing you closer to him. He begins grinding up into you, and he holds down your hips. You try your best not to react and you end up groaning and grabbing his face in both hands. He pauses when you bring his face close to yours, sharing the same breath.

"Hisoka Morrow." You say in a commanding voice. "Do you know how much you mean to me? I think of you every moment and it's hard to think about anything else. The restraint it takes to not hold on to you every time I see you is immense. Can't you understand that you're controlling my every single waking moment? I will love you forever and forever is a long time so give me one night of our forever for me to study."

His eyes widen, and his lips are parted slightly in awe. And for the first time ever, you've seen him look vulnerable, a blush of his you've never seen before. Sex was one thing but all of this emotion and promise at once is so overwhelming. Butterflies flutter in your stomach and he speaks up.

"I suppose once night is okay if it's part of our forever."

Chrollo (sexual, nudity) 

It’s been a lonely few days, and Chrollo’s birthday is coming up. He has been really busy with what he calls work, and you’ve been sitting at home, working remotely since you wanted to watch over the house. You never know when you’re dating the leader of the phantom troupe, someone might try to rob you or worse.

For your lover’s birthday you want to do something special, something that’ll make him really happy. It’s hard with Chrollo because he can have anything he wants in the world, so what do you get him? He’s always appreciative of anything you give him and is very sentimental- but you always feel inadequate. What’ll make him happy that he can’t just go steal?

Two hours until he gets home. You have the cake on the table that you decorated to the best of your abilities. (He always says he prefers home cooked/baked goods to bought ones.) The entire house is lit up with nothing but candles. Each of the candles being his favorite scent, Beachwood. He always talks about how you guys need to go on a trip to the beach, and is a sucker for anything ‘beach’ scented. Chrollo is such a romantic as if it weren’t obvious so you laid out rose petals on the dining room table and around it. 

It’s already dark and kind of hard to see, but you settle yourself down on the table, sitting next to the cake. You try to find different poses you think you would look good in until you hear the jiggle of door knob. A dose of panic shoots through you. Is this too much? Is he even going to like it? What if he’s grossed out? 

The door opens and a tired Chrollo enters, closing his eyes and sighing, “What a long day.” He sniffs the air, “It smells good in here y/-” He’s cut off at the sight of you.

A beautiful figure resting on the dining room table, covered by nothing but red lingerie panties and stockings, your bare breasts exposed. His mouth is agape just from looking at you, he shuts the door behind him with his foot. He kicks his shoes off and shrugs off his jacket, leaving it on the floor as he stumbles towards you. 

He places himself between your legs and pulls you closer to him on the table. “What’s the occasion?” He asks oblivously.

You chuckle and run a hand through his slicked hair, “It’s your birthday darling.” You can barely make it out but his pale cheeks become slightly rosy in the dim light. “So are you going to stand there or what?” You ask sarcastically.

He wraps your legs around his waist and picks you up, not missing his chance to hold your ass as he carries you. Your lips meet his feverishly, and desperately, you part only to ask, “Do you like your present?”

He lays you gently on the bed with a flushed face and devious smile, “It’s perfect darling.” 

[camslightstories]

Tolerate It - Part 13

Lena Luthor x reader, Kara Danvers x reader, Alex Danvers x reader. Baby Danvers. Female Reader.

Notes: Hey! I hope you guys are doing great and if you are not I promise things get better. I’m sorry I haven't updated but its just work and home are being hectic but I’m trying to get everything in track again. This chapter took an awfully long time write, i hope you guys like it!

My inbox is open for suggestions, recommendations, questions, and more. If any of you need help I will be honor to help you, always! Please fill my inbox with theories, comments and more i wanna hear what you guys think of the story! Hope you have a great day!

Taglist: @multi-images​  @captain-josslett​  @aznblossom​  @venteen​   @coxmicbabygirl​  @lezzzbehonesthere​

The smell of fries and burgers invaded your nose as you sat on the floor, glancing at your sore hand. Your legs extended on the floor as you held your head against the column of the place. The uncomfortable ache on your hand had seemed to increase by the second, as you sat down.

Confusion was the main thing in your head, the confused heavy feeling in your chest when you close your eyes, the twisted and ached void confusing you when reality sets in. It felt like a war between your mind and heart that neither of the two you understand. It felt like the reasons that your brain had were now gone, the reason part of feeling nonexistent.  

“Didn't think I would see you so soon” You claimed when you felt the presence of the brunette behind you. Two bags in her hand as the archer sat beside you. 

Thea replied teasingly, and flirtatiously grabbing fries from her bag, after hitting you softly in the shoulder. “Neither did I, princess”

“Thanks” You whispered as you started to eat, both of you sharing a knowing and somewhat comforting. The Queen woman smiled and kept silent giving you a nod. 

Thea had known you for a long time, but not until three years ago she saw you as her older brother’s best friend. She and Talia had taught every skill, you needed and wanted to learn. She had seen you put all of your anger everywhere you could. You were there subtly with alcohol after every break-up and make-up she had with Roy, showing your care as you sat with her drinking in silence until she couldn't anymore. 

The small creek sound of the door took both of your attention. Your mother stood silently with a white medical kit in her hand and an understanding expression on her face. You glanced at the brunette beside you, meeting her glance. A small spark in her eyes which you had never noticed before, you stopped in your way to comment on it when you heard the knowing clearing throat of your Mother. 

“Can I come in?” The Queen woman smiled reassuringly before leaving the room. Your mother stood at the side of the door, watching curiously and carefully before speaking. 

You looked up and met her eye glance, giving her a small nod as you spoke almost inaudible. “Sure”

Your mother had been making the small notes, and remainders when she saw you. She couldn't lie about the fact that her heart joined in joy and broke in less than 24 hours. It had been difficult to maintain a straight face when your oldest sister called her explaining the situation, letting her know and Jeremiah that after days of trying, they were the last option to bring some feelings to you. 

She saw your father way too comfortable yet nervous when they got the news, the trip had been too questioning and secretive that she suspected something had happened with the two of you. But seeing you with her own eyes as you stood in the room with void eyes, and rage protecting your walls. 

The complete silence from your party told her more than you knew. The isolation, the hidden pain, the calm and silence. It all reflected in one thing and it was you trying to understand your feelings, your world, yourself. It had happened when your dad had supposedly died. The heavy feeling in her chest grew as she sat beside you, while you stared at the wall quietly debating with your thoughts and feelings. 

Flashback - February 2005

You sat in the backyard of the house, dressed in black attire. Your eyes watching over the waves as they ended in the sand. The way the breeze moved the palms and softly touched your face. Your hands gripping the blanket covering you. 

You waited for everything to process in, you waited to wake up, you waited for him as you walked down the stairs that morning, you waited for your sisters to tell you it was a lie, you waited for your mom to serve his favorite lasagna as he came back home, you waited for the sound of cheer when he and your oldest sister finished repairing another part of the old car, you waited for him and Kara coming back from the forest at night after watching the stars, you waited for him to sit on the small bean bag of your bedroom as you played him something new in your instruments, you waited for the loud laughs and scolds that would come after you and your sisters would create an eating contest ending with Kara smiling proudly as you and Alex throw up, you waited for the ‘pizza and tacos night’ where the five of you somehow cooked without burning the kitchen down, ending with a marathon of movies and smiles on everyone faces. But it never came. 

The distinct voices from the house gained your attention as they felt closer. You closed your eyes, trying to focus on the sound of the waves failing in the attempt. Turning around to see both of your sisters standing side by side as one of your family members expressing their condolences to them. Kara seemed to keep it together as she nodded shyly, while Alex clenched her jaw giving a small thanks before walking away, your blonde sister watched the redhead walk away before looking at the floor excusing herself too. 

You looked away back to the beach, before deciding to get up and walk down the small hill entering the beach. Taking off your shoes, you put them at the side of the beach entrance before wrapping the blanket tightly around you. The voices began to zoom out and the sound of the ocean began to fill your ears. The soft sand on your feet as you walked closer to the shore felt grounding. The soft breeze that moved your hair out of control felt comforting as you sat down. 

Burying your feet in the sand as you closed your eyes trying to remember something, to have something to hold on to. It felt weird, out of place, like something was missing. Your mind tried to wrap up with the fact that your father was dead but even if you knew what was happening, you still had questions. Sitting on the sand, you stared blankly at the ocean, as the waves came, as the breeze moved the palms and touched your cheeks, as the soft salty smell invaded your nose, and the coldness of the day began to increase.

It was like a debate between what you wanted to believe and what was happening. There were running thoughts in your head that made you feel exhausted. It was unpleasant and even tiring to think of how this event would change your and your family's life. You avoided the thought as much as you could, wishing and hoping to wake up from the nightmare but it was real and as much as you didn't want to accept it, your father was gone, and he was not coming back.

You didn't even realize when the sun that was high in the sky had come down and reflected in the ocean, you didn't feel the breeze and air get heavier or the way the only thing illuminating the night was the light bulb you dad put at the entrance of the beach. 

It felt like time went in seconds, long seconds that you wished to take back and at the same time to move faster. It wasn't easy, it didn't feel easy, and the hole in your heart was unmistakable. You weren't a person who liked change, nor a person who easily understood what was going on around you. 

Sure when Kara came into the family, it was like the missing piece. It didn't take you long to warm up to the blonde, but she was suffering from the loss of her planet so you stayed behind the doors and waited the right moment to comfort her and make her as welcome as you could. You saw her hesitate when she was doing something that would make her happy, you saw her doubt herself as Superman came into the news, you saw her shed tears when she tried to find where Krypto would be. 

You tried constantly to win her affection, her trust, her intelligence, and more but you couldn't make her happy if she didn't heal. So you stayed awake during the night waiting to comfort her, you played with melodies on the piano so she could have a similar bed song as she had in Krypto, you ran as fast as you could after school to help her with her English or to watch and sing along with Wizard of Oz. You keep trying and trying even though she was legally your sister, you wanted to have a connection with her just like you did with Alex. So when the blonde the morning of your birthday hugged you and in English told you, you were her sister and she could be prouder than to call you that, you shredded in tears hugging her closely. 

But it was different, everything was different, it felt different, it sounded different, it even tastes different. There was a silence between your family, Alex kept her feelings inside and bottle them in trying so hard not to break, mad at the world, mad at dad, at you, at your mom, even Kara. Your mom was understanding but quiet, she tried to be your and your sister's rock during the day but at night you can hear her crying her heart out. Kara kept silent, mad at the world for taking another person from her, holding you close trying to be helpful as much as she could even if she was hurting as much as she was when she first landed. And you, you kept quiet, trying to understand, trying to find the lie, trying to reach and understand your feelings but couldn't. So you waited for the time to pass by and for things to get in order, just like your dad used to say ‘time heals things, everything gets better with time’ but as the words rounded your head you couldn't feel more than the biggest lie of the world.

Flashback ends

The soft wrap with alcohol against your knuckles ached as your mom determinately disinfected your hand. You felt her eyes constantly glancing at you when you kept silent, trying to ignore the slight throb from the small wound in your hand. You glanced from the wall you stared continuously into her eyes, before speaking. “I tried”

“I know sweetie” Eliza looked up while finishing wrapping her hand before speaking in a motherly tone. As soon as she heard you talk she knew, she knew what you meant. Just your silence gave it away, she knew your conflicted feelings weren't going to help now and they didn't before, but what scared her was how long you were going to take to heal, to flash a familiar smile, to laugh until you couldn't anymore, to look at the eyes of your significant other, to sign with your older sisters until either of your throats wouldn't give more. 

Fighting back the tears your eyes had swollen, you claimed again making eye contact with your mother, your mother's eyes redating with comfort and sadness as she looked at you. You clenched your hand into a fist but immediately opened it again when you felt the strong throb in your knuckles. “I tried, and it didn't work out. It didn't do anything”

“Healing isn't about not feeling sad or feeling numb, it's about letting in, letting go, and finding yourself again but you can't do it if you are not ready for it” She answered brushing a strand of your hair behind your ear. 

And the understanding in her eyes and voice made you doubt, as your feelings started to fall in place. Heartache, anger, sadness, disappointment, pain, and more began to feel your chest and your mind as you took the words of your mother in. Your now bloodshot eyes looked away from her as you felt your lip tremble.

You nodded quietly, and before you knew. You threw your arms around your blonde mother, tears furiously leaving your eyes as she soothed you, with comforting and reassuring words. Your head was hidden in her neck as you cried your eyes out. 

The feeling of heartbreak and pain overwhelming you as everything started to come down on you. And you wanted to cry, for minutes, for hours, days, weeks, even years. Because somehow after everything you still didn't feel enough, you felt everything you did was wrong, that you could have been better and you could have changed differently, closing your eyes you wished for it to be gone, but deep down you knew it wasn't.

“Please just make it stop, mom. Please, it hurts so much”

Flashback - February 2005

“Please just make it stop, mom. Please, it hurts so much”

You don't know how it happened or how long you had been furiously crying until you stared at the small seashells in the sand getting wet thanks to your tears. The once beige shell now was white. Grabbing the seashells from the sand, you started to throw them angrily at the water. 

The sound of the rock making contact with the water somewhat comforted you, longing to throw everything away for it, for the broken shells to absorb your problems and leave with it. Soon enough you fell to your knees sobbing out. As the night lighting shot in the ocean, as the ocean tide had gone up, the once breeze became violent air. 

One second you were crying furiously on your own, and the next you sobbed into your mother's arms, as she reassured you that everything was going to be okay. You gripped her shirt hugging her closely before looking up to her, touching your chest as your bloodshot eyes glanced in hers.

Your lip trembling from the cold and your sobs, her heart broke, even more, when you hid in her neck which made her look up as she soothed your back. She was trying so hard to keep it together for you and your sisters but the moment she caught sight of Kara and Alex with blankets around themselves walking straight to where the two of you sat, made her break into tears. 

You looked up from your mother's neck as you felt a hand rubbing your back and others grabbing your hand softly in reassurance. Each one of them by you and your mother's side, your cries had slowed down when your redhead sister asked with a crack in her voice to your mother. “Are we gonna be okay?”

“Yeah, we will be but it will take time to heal, we can't rush it, we have to be ready”

“We are going to be okay” Kara claimed as a statement of reassurance after your mother responded, but her trembling lip, bloodshot eyes, and the high tone she used made her sound more like a prayer than anything.

Your mother reassured, making you three nod slowly before falling into a reassuring silence. “Until then we have each other, and one of the most precious things you girls are going to have in your life is each other, your family.”

Flashback ends

Unknowingly to you, your sisters had been watching from the door the moment Kara heard your heart spike. Tears in their eyes as they watched your mother rocked you slowly as you cried. Silent sobs and bitten lips coming from them as they stopped each other from walking into the room. 

Alex kept her jaw clenched as her hands gripped each other hard as she tried to keep the tears inside. The redhead felt responsible for your crying, the urge to run in and comfort you debating her self-control. Doubts, questions, and more gained in her head as she saw you sob into your mother's arms, rage slowly consuming her emotions as the protectiveness over you began to show up.

Kara let out silent sobs, with her hand on top of her mouth. Her bloodshot eyes and red cheeks had overwhelming tears. The superheroine hated herself, as she felt responsible for your crying. She just wanted to hold you in her arms and tell you everything was going to be just fine, she wanted to see your sunny smile when you saw her or the bad jokes and puns you used all the time, she wanted you, she wanted her little sister but a part of her told her you needed the same space she once received from you. 

The two of them standing next to each other with broken hearts and tears in their eyes, a small sense of hope in their chest as they watched the scene. Sharing a knowing, Alex came closer putting her arm around your blonde sister’s shoulder before speaking. 

“Everything is gonna be okay, we are getting her back, I promise,” She said quietly reassuring Kara even when neither of them fully believe it.

[20moonchild21]

𝗦𝗲𝗵𝗻𝘀𝘂𝗰𝗵𝘁 [𝗯𝘁𝘀]

⇉ 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 9

[pairings]

JK x female!oc, Bunny!JK x human!female!oc, Jin x female!oc, Leopard!Jin x human!female!oc, Jimin x female!oc, white Tiger!Jimin x human!female!oc, Taehyung x female!oc, black Tiger!Taehyung x human!female!oc, JK x Jin x Jimin x Taehyung x female!oc

[warnings]

very grumpy Tae, threats, flashbacks of abusive past, mentions Hybrid auction, traumatized Jimin and Tae, trust issues, mentions of blood, mentions of eating disorder

[words]

4.0k

[author] ⇉ please, read!

Okay, I swear I absolutely love Tae, but he just fits in that grumpy role. I actually want to upload all the other chapters so badly all at once, but I can’t!!!! You and I have to be patient a little while longer!

While waiting for my next update on Wednesday, you could actually check out my favorite author @starlightauroras-main. She wrote that really cute story Inferiority complex. I love it so much, and you definitely have to read it too!

Also, check out my other inspirations below this chapter. Like always, my message board is open for recommendations, wishes, criticism or whatever it is on your heart.

I also want to thank you guys so so so much for always leaving me so much likes and those super cute comments. I swear, I see all of them and they make me so proud and happy, but unfortunately, I cannot answer all of the comments. I wish I could!🥺 💜

PS: People often ask me what 𝗦𝗲𝗵𝗻𝘀𝘂𝗰𝗵𝘁 actually means, so here is the answer:

Sehnsucht is a German word (I am from Germany, lol), and it stands for „the inconsolable longing in the (human) heart for we know not what ; a yearning for a far, familiar, (non-) earthly land one can identify as one‘s (n.)“

Kind of cute, don’t you think?

Stay healthy and safe!

Mꨄ

[chapter 8 ||| chapter 10]

“Okay, everyone needs to calm down.” She took a deep breath, as she closed her eyes.

“We are calm.” Jungkook piped in from beside her, as him and Jin and sat down next to her on the table. “You – You are the one who makes a scene.”

The girl chuckled nervously, before she opened her eyes to look at the boys. Jungkook had laid his head down on his hands, that were rested on the table. His ears hung loosely bedside his face, while his big, brown deer eyes were looking up at the girl, eyebrows cocking up. Jin beside him had wrapped both of his hands around the hot mug that was filled with coffee, while he cocked his eyebrows up as well.

“Oh my god. I am really making a scene?” She whined while her eyes moved away from both of her Hybrids over to the white tiger, who’s eyes were flickering between the girl and the other two boys.

When his eyes met the girl’s gaze properly, he stopped fiddling with his fingers. A heavy shed of red started spreading over his cheeks, before he quickly shook his head and dropped his eyes. After she had brought him and his brother breakfast, Jimin had carefully asked if he was allowed to leave his room. Taehyung on the other hand had refused to leave his bed. When she had offered Jimin to take a seat at the table, he had looked at her with wide eyes but not taken her offer. He rather stood next to the table, watching the scene in front of him.

“Why are you so nervous, Hope?” Jungkook had lifted his head and was now leaning it on his hands. “You are so smart.”

Hope chuckled at his innocence. She had told them roughly why it was so important to her that her term papers would be free of any mistakes, but she doubt that they had really understood the how much of her future depended on this.

“Thank you, Kookie.” She drover her finger through the thick hair at the back of his head. “But this is really important. If I made the smallest mistake, it might be that I can’t be a lawyer, which means that I can’t defend Hybrids in front of the Judge, you know?”

Jungkook just hummed, as he moved his head against her hand, getting himself a nice massage.

“What – What is a – a lawyer?” The girl moved her eyes away from the bunny.

Jimin was still fiddling with his sleeves, but he was now looking at the girl, his cheeks still covered in red.

“Do you know what a judge is, Jimin?” The girl asked the white tiger, as she kept driving her hand through Jungkook’s hair. Jimin thought for a moment, before he quickly nodded. “A lawyer is someone who tries to convince the judge, that the one who is accused should not be punished. I want to try to convince the judge, that human should be punished for hurting a Hybrid in any way. This is why this term papers are so important to me because if I made any mistakes, they won’t allow me to defend any Hybrids.”

“But she is the smartest girl in the world.” Jungkook had opened his eyes and was now looking sharply at Jimin, almost snapping at the tiger. “That’s why she is going to be a lawyer.”

Jimin, who seemed to be pretty intimidated by the bunnies words, wrapped his tail tightly around his left leg, before he nodded quickly. Hope nudged Jungkook’s arm slightly, gesturing for him to not sound so harsh.

“Don’t worry, Hope.” Jin put his mug back on the table. “You checked your terms several times. There is no chance you made any mistakes.”

The girl took a deep breath and nodded. Jin was right. She had read over the cases so many times, making sure that there was not a single detail left that would cause any problems. She had checked her terms for grammar mistakes or wrong spelled words. It must be bulletproof.

“You are right, Jin.” She whispered and placed her finger at the ‘send’ button. “I will send it out now.”

Jungkook grabbed the girl’s arm, before pulling it down and took her smaller hand in his, squeezing it slightly. She looked one last time towards the leopard, getting an encouraging nod from. With a last, deep breath, she bundled up all her effort and finally pressed her finger onto the mouse.

“You did it.” Jungkook whispered, before he stood up and wrapped his arms around the sitting girl.

“Are you a lawyer now?” Jimin piped in with a small voice.

“Not yet, Jimin.” She watched the tiger, as he carefully walked around the table to take a look at her laptop screen. “It needs time. The committee needs to read my whole term, then they need to check my arguments if they are true or not and then they will decide if I can be a lawyer or not.”

Jimin kept staring at the screen, his eyes flickering over the symbols and letters. Somehow, he reminded her of Jungkook, who would always have the same sparkle in his eyes when he learns something new.

She sighed, as she laid her head on Jungkook’s head, who had leaned his head against her shoulder. It seemed like Jin had accepted the fact that the tigers would be staying with them for a certain am out of time, but she also hoped that Jungkook and the both other Hybrids would get along the time they would be staying here.

She felt her heart tighten when she thought about the two tigers. Where would they go after Taehyung’s injuries were all good again? She didn’t even know what had happened to the two tigers. What if their owners were the same kind as Jin and Jungkook’s old owners? What if they were looking for them and punish them for running away. What if someone would caught them strolling around the streets without someone to look after them? They would immediately lock them away or even worse.

“You are spacing out again.” Jin’s chuckling voice was ripping her out of her thoughts. “What are you thinking about?”

“I – ehm – I” All the three Hybrids were looking at her now. “I was thinking about – ehm – Taehyung. I haven’t looked over his arm yet. Do you think he would allow me to change his bandage, Jimin?”

She felt a slight vibration going through her shoulder, as Jungkook growled at the black tiger’s name. Since Taehyung had showed off his fangs the previous, Jungkook had never left the girl’s side again, too scared that the tiger would hurt her.

Jimin meanwhile, had taken a small step back. He started fiddling with his fingers again, eyes flickering around the ground, before he slightly shook his head.

“I – I don’t think so. He was pretty angry this morning.” He whispered, not looking up. “I am sorry for him. He is scared and unsettled. He – he would never hurt someone on purpose. He –“

“He threatened us with his fangs.” Jungkook quickly interrupted him, pressing his eyes together. “Hope just wanted to help him.”

“I know.” Jimin’s sad eyes were looking up at Jungkook, ears flat against his head. “I will try to talk to him later. But I promise that he would have never hurt you.”

“Don’t worry, Jimin.” Hope tried to friendly smile at him. “It takes time to fully trust someone, but I understand. He will warm up eventually. But I need to change his bandage, or else the infection could get worse.”

To her surprise, Jimin’s mouth lifted up. He smiled happily, before he nodded quickly. He turned around and run down the hallways, entering his and Taehyung’s room. When he was gone, Jin stretched himself. It looked kind of funny, because he not only stretched his arms over his head, he also stretched his ears and tail way from him.

“I will cook something for lunch.” He announced, before he stood up and grabbed his mug.

“Since you started cooking for us I gained weight, you know?” The girl laughed, as she rubber her belly to support her statement.

Jin just shook his head and walked into the kitchen, starting to prepare lunch. The girl smiled at Jin’s eagerness to cook for the three, and now the five, of them. She could see the happiness in his eyes, when he set up he table or when her and Jungkook tell him how tasty his meals are. She was glad that thing with him had turned out in a good way.

“Jungkook.” She mumbled against the bunny’s hair. “Can you try to be nice to them. Jimin is trying really hard to be good. I think you scare him away sometimes.”

“Good, he better is.” Jungkook mumbled back, and she could clearly hear the amusement in his voice.

“Please, Kookie.” She tried again, nudging his arm slightly. “I don’t want them to feel not welcome here. Can you try for me, please?”

The bunny didn’t answer. He just kept his eyes closed, burring his face against her shoulder, mumbling something she couldn’t understand.

Just in that moment, the sound of an opening door rang through the apartment. Jimin came out of the room, pulling a crumply looking Taehyung behind him. Both tigers made their way down the hallway, before they stopped in front of the table, where Hope and Jungkook were still sitting. The girl smiled up at them, before she carefully pushed a protesting bunny from her shoulder and stood up.

“Jungkook, why don’t you and Jimin ask Jin if he needs help, while I change Taehyung’s bandage?” She asked nicely, before she grabbed the first aid kid from the cupboard on the wall.

Jungkook and Jimin looked at each other for a few seconds, before both nodded shyly. Jungkook started walking first, but not before he made a V-sign with his fingers, pointing at his eyes and then at Taehyung’s eyes. Jimin flashed Taehyung a look as well, before he trailed after Jungkook into the kitchen.

Taehyung didn’t hesitate, as he pulled himself a chair back and sunk down on it. He laid his injured arm onto the table, turning his head away from the girl, nose trails went wide. The girl sighed, but sat down next to him, gathering all the supplies she would need on the table. She didn’t tried to start a conversation, she just took off the used bandage and started cleaning up the scratch.

As the wet clothed touched his swollen and sensitive skin, the tiger hissed slightly. He slowly turned his head in her direction, opening his mouth so she could clearly see his fangs. It was just now that she actually was close enough to look at them properly.

From the thick root all the way down to the razor thin and sharp tip, the bright white the stood out from the red gums. They were definitely longer than his front teeth, maybe by one inch, which meant that he could easily cut through her skin.

“I am not scared of your fangs, Taehyung.” She simply stated, looking back down and not stopping to whip the cloth over his injury.

The black tiger didn’t response. Instead, he started laughing quietly and shaking his head. He leaned his elbow that was not injured on the table, before he put his head in his hand, still looking at the girl. He lifted his lips even more, showing her the whole length of his carves, while licking his lips over them.

“Is that so?” He laughed, making Hope looking up once again. When she was directly looking into his deep brown eyes, he started talking in a lower voice again. “Why are you lying to me? I can smell your fear. I can sense your heart beating in fear. I can see the fear in your eyes, little human.”

The way his breath was tickling her ear in combination with his very deep voice, were indeed making her heart beat faster. She gulped slightly and moved her eyes away from Tae’s eyes, looking over to the kitchen, but she couldn’t spot Jungkook or Jin….or even Jimin, who would gave her a safer feeling.

“What?” Taehyung had noticed her desperate attempt to look for help. “Do you want to call your little bunny for – ouch!”

He hissed sharply, as she whipped the wet cloth harder over the sensitive skin. He was right, his sharp fangs were somehow intimidating her, but she wouldn’t let him threaten her like this, and she would definitely not allow the tiger to talk about Jungkook as weak.

“I am really sorry.” She hissed back, throwing the clothe away and opening the tube with salve. “I am just trying to help you, Taehyung. But if you don’t like my help, my front door is always open. You can leave anytime you want to. I won’t force you to stay.”

Taehyung hissed again when she applied the salve without take much care. She didn’t want to hurt him at all, but his attitude was getting on her nerves. Taehyung closed his eye tightly, before he bit the inside of his cheek hard, a growl raising up his throat.

“Oh believe me, little girl, if it wasn’t for Jimin, I would leave immediately.” He opened his eyes, staring directly into hers, whispering in his deep, low voice again. “I am warning you, don’t push me too far. I am not scared of a leopard and a bunny, and I won’t hesitate to hurt them, if they try to harm my brother in any way.”

“So Jimin, how did you come to New York?” Jin put the noodles into the pot, before he closed the lid.

Jimin and Jungkook had asked the older boy if he needed some help, while Hope wrapped up Taehyung’s arm. He gladly told them to cut all the vegetables into small pieces, while he would prepare the sauce and noodles.

“I – ehm –“ He coughed, before he started talking again. “Me and my brother are Bengal Tigers. We are from Korea, but they took us to New York because of an auction.”

Jin didn’t miss the way his voice went quieter with each word. When he looked over his shoulder, he saw how his ears were flatly pressed against his black hair, while he had wrapped his tail around his leg. He know exactly how Jimin must feel. When he was younger, his old owner had bought him at an auction in Korea as well.

“What is an auction?” Jungkook laid his knife down and was now looking with wide eyes at the tiger and then at Jin.

It was the first time since the previous night that Jungkook actually tried to talk to Jimin. The bunny had told Jin the night before about his concerns. Jungkook was a nice guy. He never meant to be mean or offended to someone, but his fear about the Hope getting hurt, or that she would like someone more than him was too much for him to handle.

“Human organize auctions to illegally buy rare Hybrid breeds.” Jimin whispered, not looking up at the bunny. “They locked us in a cage, so that all the visitor can look at us. My brother wanted to protect me, as one of the visitor tried to inspect my tail, but the guards stopped him. They – they hurt him badly.”

Though Jin had never been at an auction, he could feel the pain that the younger tiger went through. He knew what it felt to be helpless if a person you love was hurt by a human. He shivered at those memories.

“The girl –“ Jimin started after a moment of silence. “Have you always been living with her?”

“No.” Jungkook had taken his knife again, cutting the cucumber furiously. “She found me first. A few weeks ago, she took me in. She gave me food and something to drink and a bed to sleep. Later, she bought Jin from our old owner and took him in as well. She didn’t even request something in return, she just gave us anything we could have ever asked for.”

As he spoke, his voice held a tone of bitterness. Though Jungkook had come far since he was taken in here, the past was still sitting in his bones. He didn’t want to admit it, but Jin sometimes noticed how he would wake up in the middle on the night, scared and confused. Jin wanted so desperately to help him, but he had no other choice than to be there for him as much as possible.

“Thank you for letting us stay with you.” Jimin suddenly said. He turned around and looked at Jin. “I know that you don’t like us here, especially if my brother behaves like this, but – but –“

“It’s okay, Jimin.” Jin stepped forward and laid a hand on the younger boy’s shoulder. “Just a few weeks ago, we were in the same situation as the both of you. We know what you are going through, and we were glad that Hope took us in without any conditions.”

The three boys kept preparing their lunch for another few minutes, still talking about their lives, when suddenly they head the loud noise of a door slamming, followed by a long silence. Jin was about to look what was going on, but Hope was already walking into the kitchen. She flashed the three boys a sad smile, before she washed her hands in the sink.

“What’s going on?” Jungkook’s eyes help panic, as he watch the blood falling down in the sink. “Did he hurt you? I swear if he –“

“No, it’s okay. His wound was bleeding pretty bad, but I wrapped it up so it should be okay.” She dried her hands and turned around. “But he is still pretty unhappy with everything.”

She leaned herself against the counter, wrapping her arms around her waist. Jin didn’t need to ask her if anything was okay, he could smell it in her aura, that she as battling in her head. He knew how much she wanted to help Jimin and his brother, and that Taehyung was rejecting her help was really nudging at her bones.

“Don’t chew your lips, Hope.” Jin bend down to pull the plates out of the cupboard, before he pushed them into the girl’s arms. “Jimin, do you want to join us at the table or are you eating with Taehyung?”

Jimin’s eyes flickered from the stack of plates towards the hallway. He sighed, before he told them that he would eat with his brother. Jin nodded and prepared two plates of food, before adding two bottles of water onto the tray. He passed it to Jimin who politely bowed his head, as he made his way into the room.

“Don’t you want to try, Tae?” Jimin asked his brother, who sat arm crossed beside him on the bed. “It’s really good and look, I cut the vegetables.”

The black tiger breathed out hard, but eventually he grabbed the fork that laid next to his plate and began to eat. He wanted to spit this food out so badly, but he had to admit that it really did taste good.

“Who does this human girl think she is.” He put his plat back down on the tray, slamming fork down next to it. “She hurt me on purpose, Jimin. She asked for me to hurt her. I was just this far away – only this far away from ripping her throat out. Pathetic human.”

Jimin didn’t respond. The older tiger just kept shoving his fork around his plate, not looking up at his brother. Tae was irritated by this behaviour. Normally, they both would avoid to have contact in any way with human. They both shared the same opinion on them, which was why he couldn’t understand how Jimin could hang around with that girl all day long.

“Jimin?” Tae asked annoyed when the older one didn’t look at him. “Why are you acting that way? You agree with me, don’t you?”

Jimin was still not looking at the younger one.

“Don’t you, Jimin?” Tae asked again, bit this time with a quitter voice.

“I –“ Jimin stopped, looking for the right words to continue. “I just don’t think that she is that bad. I mean, Jin and Jungkook seem to be pretty – happy? Maybe she is –“

“Nice? Kind? Different than the other human?” Tae smiled at Jimin, before his face dropped. “Forget it, Jimin. Human are all the same. I don’t trust that little girl.”

How could Jimin be so blind? Hadn’t the past encounters with human had been enough reasons to not trust those creatures again? He breathed out again, adding a growl. Just because that girl and her pets had offered them their help didn’t mean that Tae would jump into her arms.

It wasn’t that he was not thankful for her help, even when he had threatened her earlier with hid fangs. It had made him angry, that he actually hadn’t had smelled any fear at all in her scent. She hadn’t lied at all. But that didn’t change a single thing about his opinion on her. If she or her pets would do one wrong move towards Jimin or him, he could not promise anything.

He watched his brother eating his lunch quietly. It scared him that Jimin looked so pale and skinny. He had always been a skinny boy, but he had loosen a lot of weight while they were out on their own. Tae wasn’t stupid. He had noticed that Jimin had saved all the food they had left for him, so he could get healthy again. Even though Jimin was older that him by a few months, Taehyung had that urge to protect that smaller male from any threats.

He hadn’t lied earlier. If it wasn’t for Jimin, if Jimin wasn’t here with him, if he only had a responsibility for his own, he would have never taken a step inside the girl’s apartment. It was all for his brother.

“It’s just – “ Jimin was still not looking up at his brother, but Tae could clearly hear the bitterness in his tone. “Last night was the first night I actually had a proper sleep since a very long time, Tae. I wasn’t worried about you not eating enough, I wasn’t worried about you being cold, I wasn’t worried about you being in pain. Can we just – can we just enjoy the time we are allowed to stay here?”

“I don’t know about you.” Tae laughed and leaned himself back against the headboard of the bed, arms behind his head, legs stretched out wide. “But I am enjoying my stay.”

Jimin turned his head, but not saying anything. Tae knew that it was harsh of his to talk about the girl’s offers like that, but it wasn’t like he was going to stay forever. So why not enjoying this comfort for once?

“You know what I meant.” Jimin sighed, as he let go of his fork, letting himself fall back on the soft mattress. “Jin and Jungkook are actually nice to talk to. It was the first real conversation I had in a very long time. Beside, I feel really bad to use the human girl like that. Don’t you think we should show some thankfulness?”

Tae had heard a lot of stupid ideas coming out of his brother’s mouth, but this was an absolutely highlight. His whole life, human had threaten him like he worth nothing to them. They had hurt him, they had humiliated him, they had locked him up, and now he should show some thankfulness?

“Don’t be ridiculous, Jimin.” He growled quietly, closing his eyes. “It’s not like we forcing her to help us. Plus, we won’t stay long, so don’t get attached to that human or her pets.”

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[supercorp-hosie]

Josie and Lizzie personality, dynamics and popularity in reality

I've kind of done this before, like in my thoughts for 315. Now, I've made some additions to them, so I think why not start a new post? There are some points that remained the same with my thoughts for 315 and I've integrated some points from my rating of the writing of Legacies characters too.

Starting from Alaric being an absent father since the twins were 11. Caroline wasn’t there either. What’s left for Lizzie? Josie.

Josie had to handle herself and Lizzie alone. Sure Alaric might not always be absent, but the intensity of Lizzie’s perspective begs to differ. Josie had to understand Bipolar at a very young age; be there when Lizzie had her outburst; constantly checks on Lizzie to take her meds; digest the emotion impacts after the outburst; understand how Lizzie functions when she was down. None of that are easy. No one asks about how Josie feels. How she pent out? What does she need? Josie might feel the need to be not needing things and always be good so that she can get the love and attention from Alaric (in s1, Josie felt the need to lose the game to get on Alaric good side). As results, she just started to suppress her voice and her needs, because Lizzie needed them the most. Over time or years of suppressing in front of her dearest family, she most likely felt unneeded by her parents, and forgettable to her parents (the girl so quiet that her parents forget about her, the girl that Penelope won’t fight for anymore). She needed to feel needed, so she just let Lizzie take all of her, from whom she felt needed the most. It started a vicious cycle for the twins, shaped their dynamics and how Josie is in present days. Unfortunately, her problems were never solved, they accumulated, leaving the good and dark side from Josie being so separated and unbalanced, as no one has helped her to sort them out. The inner turmoil is always there, leading to the extreme polarity of Josie’s good and bad side.When she’s doing bad, she would be especially aggressive than she needed to be because that’s an instinct to compensate the lack of action before. After long suppression, once being released, the instinct would be stronger than usual and more uncontrollable. Under the influence of dark magic, Dark Josie felt like another personality taking over the whole Josie and protect their interests that true Josie are neglecting. Kind of like dissociative identity disorder but not really it? Fear the dog that doesn't bark.

From Lizzie perspective, we can see how she perceived Josie when they were little. Like Lizzie being princess but Josie being her android, personal valet? It just showed that after what Josie had endured and done, Lizzie thought of herself being princess but didn’t think Josie as her equal? Like Josie was programmed to bow to Lizzie. That’s the twins dynamic showing, partly Josie's mistake, but Josie deserved more than that, even when she’s derogatory to herself, Lizzie should uphold that for her. What really warms me from the Android situation, is that from how Josie is the combination of two Androids, showing that Lizzie actually looked up to Josie. For Lizzie, Josie can really take care of her so well that Lizzie can count Josie as her personal valet. Derogatory, yes, but that place is also very important to prince and princess. Remember that Lizzie can’t cook but Josie is like expert in cooking or baking? The knowledge for Android part means that in Lizzie’s mind, Josie actually is like the person who knows everything. Usually that figure should be our parents, but for Lizzie, Josie knows the answer to all. The fact that the special sword was in Josie’s thigh the whole time, just show the trust that Lizzie had in Josie. The security of her needs that Lizzie got from Josie and the validation Josie got from Lizzie, it’s kind of how the codependency between them works. Lizzie voices, Josie listens; Lizzie wants, Josie gives.

About Lizzie mental illness, after my research, I think that Lizzie situation is more like borderline personality disorder rather than bipolar. Lizzie has this low self-esteem issue, she sees herself lowly sometimes. Evidently, she always thinks that she had to better herself more, even in 310 where she misjudged Finch, she forgot the fact that she had improved a lot along the seasons and just go straight to a retreat, because she thinks she’s still a very bad person. A second before she saw herself like holy almighty, the next second she saw herself so bad that she was like the person in season one (and even in season one she wasn’t that bad). However, we can also see Lizzie thinks very highly of herself sometimes, or uses a narcissistic attitude to cover up her insecurities regarding her self-image, they just doesn't match with people's view of it. The most alarming one must be the whole thing about her funeral. It's clear that she hasn’t had a stable self-image of herself, which is more of a personality disorder rather than Bipolar, a mood disorder. About Lizzie’s mood swings, they are too sudden, abrupt, it triggers by events and the outcome of the trigger is quite immediate. As for Bipolar, the mood swing is more of a consistent cycle, not abrupt. Yes, events might trigger something, but they take time to set in. Patients will be overly energetic during maniac while feeling overly fatigue during the depression state. They can’t actually control their mood, it’s a mood disorder.

Tbh, the twins really have their personality issues to deal with. I totally agree with other about them being each other's foil. Like Lizzie being the one in between, while Josie being the one in extreme. Turning out that under the mean girl cover, Lizzie has such big heart; while Josie being the model sister on the extremely good side, turning out that she can be extremely dark. For real, they had like six personalities as a whole. The polarity in Josie; the polarity of Lizzie's self-image; plus the twins themselves being the foil and mirage to each other. They both have serious mental problems, Lizzie's apparent, Josie's invisible.

How does these reflect on their relationship? People would choose to get along with someone like Josie, they benefit from her habit of caring, listening, giving, and she doesn’t seem to have serious problem. As for Lizzie, people mostly like to be heard and to not be covered by another voice, they would want enough reciprocation, a habit which Lizzie is not that familiar. Not to mention, having a mental condition being well-known is not the best trait for strangers to start a new friendship or relationship. Moreover, when people observe their dynamic, they jump to conclusion rather quickly, that Lizzie is always taking things from Josie; she doesn’t care for Josie, etc. It doesn’t help Lizzie much as Josie tends to hide under that too, as being quiet is kind of a routine for her. She wants the spotlight but habitual instincts make her tend to hide from the spotlight. Therefore, as for popularity,Josie is definitely at the top, adored dearly by her peers, thus won an election herself wasn’t even running; while Lizzie, you know. Between a dog that always barks and one that doesn't bark, which will you choose? (not derogatory) However, if someone attack Lizzie, Josie will still protect her, like she did tell Penelope to leave Lizzie alone.

To shed light on Josie’s jealousy, it rooted from the abandonment issues of the twins. It is a consequence of them being Alaric’s second choice and the absence of Caroline. For Lizzie, the issue remains with only Hope, Alaric’s betrayal for Hope in her fanfics; in 314, people prioritising Hope over her is very triggering; even in 316, the heavenly state she’s in because Ethan asked her out after the whole "Hope is perfect" speech, indicate that how she can’t believe someone would choose her over Hope. As she never thinks that she can hold a competition against Hope and win. Lizzie’s abandonment issue is minimal because of the presence of Josie, it provides the security in Lizzie’s life, as she is the first choice for Josie.

The abandonment issue is worse for Josie. Even if Josie is Lizzie blind spot, this part of Lizzie is not usually make known of. Josie would feel that she is second choice to everyone, including Lizzie. Like the personal valet that has no needs? Lizzie is just 11, but 11 is an important age in shaping people’s security in a relationship. Josie couldn’t have got much security from all her important relationship, hence the abandonment issues. She always feels helpless in them, afraid to voice her needs, desperately needed recognition from her parents which is probably very few. She needs control but she didn’t know the way to get it, so she got none. The insecurities heighten when it comes to her love life, making her easily provoked if she saw something she didn’t like. Results from the habitual quietness, her way of defending herself and gaining control is to lower her competition, like hurting the girl hitting on Landon, being hostile to Hope. She hated Penelope for abandoning her, she remained control mostly, when provoked, Josie’s abandonment issues and the insecurities in being the second choice were triggered so badly that she set her on fire. The time she did what she need to do, she overdid it, because her dark side needs to compensate what hadn't been done to protect oneself and tend to the needs – to balance out the imbalance. As she loses more control over the issue while desperately wants to suppress the need of control, the polarity in her keeps worsening and the dark side of her keeps surfacing.

This is why Josie is written to embrace and take care of herself, tend to her needs, like her never need to better herself. Lizzie is written to constantly better herself when she seems like a better person than Josie. Josie’s issues root from years of neglecting her needs, while Lizzie has years of habit of ignorance on how to care when she does care. Therefore, Josie taking care of herself = bettering herself, providing a balance in her so her mental can be stable even when provoke. If Lizzie cannot construct a good self-image, while getting positive feedback to reassure her self-image disparity, she can never overcome her personality disorder. Hence bettering herself to meet her own needs.

Their behaviours as presented are cultivated and shaped by each other under the unhealthy circumstances of their household. It is not logical to only accuse of one twin regarding their behaviours to each other without bringing the other twin and their parents into consideration.

@legacies-supremacy I still remember our twins dynamic discussion, I hope this bring my response as a whole. Btw, you kind of said that in 106, Josie tell Lizzie to go to their party without her several times and Lizzie waited for her? It's not true.

Regarding the whole situation, Josie spent all her time helping Lizzie get ready. When Lizzie is done, she said, "You’re not even dressed, I don’t want to be late on my own party." Josie said, "I’m done, I’ll catch up with you, okay?" Then Lizzie take off to the party and enter without Josie without question. After wearing the talisman, Penelope appeared. She expresses her desire to continue to make Lizzie uncomfortable or unhappy or angry. Josie wanted Penelope to ease up on Lizzie. Penelope said, "You have crawled so far down the codependence rabbit hole that you think taking care of yourself is selfish. Party starts in five. It’s a shame you spent all of that time helping Lizzie get ready." When Josie was dressed, she needed someone to help her braid, so for once she try something out of desire, she goes to Josette Laughlin. When Josette asked her whether Josie will be late to her own party, Josie said, "no one will notice". She expressed her thought that if Lizzie knew about her crush on Rafael too, the situation will look bad, so she kept silent.

During the party, Lizzie immediately enjoyed herself with MG. They had flirty moves with each other (i think). Once the soft music set in, she immediately changed partner. Penelope was the only one that notice Josie was no where to be seen (meanwhile Josie was getting buried alive). While Alaric encountered Hope to save Josie, Penelope is still the only one actively searching for Josie without request. After Hope met with MG and Penelope, the three of them started saving Josie together. Meanwhile Rafael told Lizzie the truth that he still hadn't moved on. Lizzie seemed like she was starting to melt down, and started asking for Josie. Hope, Penelope and MG saved Josie without Lizzie.

It is what it is, and I'm not blaming Lizzie. The whole getting buried alive thing just kind of enhanced Josie's feeling bad of getting what she desired. I kind of remember that she said that for once she listened to people urging her to pursue her desires and it ended up getting herself buried. Then Penelope like rewarded her with a kiss.