#sorry I had a Thought and now I’m crying

[mosoderbergh]

Have some more NSFW Emmrich

I just couldn’t keep my hands off of Emmrich’s breeding kink. Honestly? What a thought. So here’s my own little twist.

The first time, Rook very much accidentally triggers him. They’re still in their honeymoon phase, still at the lighthouse. Everyone sits at the kitchen table. Manfred’S latest shenanigans are discussed. Rook, not for the first time, calls him their “skeleton son”.

“Do you have any children, Emmrich?”, asks Davrin. “Other than Manfred, of course.”

“Ah.” It’s said with a smile, but there’s a buried sadness there. “I’m afraid it wasn’t to be, no.”

“Not yet, anyway”, Davrin chuckles.

There’s a flash of concern on Emmrich’s face. His eyes meet Rook’s, who has already come to suspect this is a sensitive subject. They swoop in to save him.

“Oh, he knows he’s welcome to try and get me pregnant whenever he wants”, they say, their voice dripping with innuendo. They take potions regularly to make sure it doesn’t happen, which Emmrich knows. Their intention is to gross the others out so much the subject gets dropped.

Lucanis chokes on his coffee. Taash boos. Davrin tells them to get a room. The conversation moves on. But Rook catches Emmrich’s glance, his face blank, eyes dark. As soon as the topic is well and truly forgotten he leans in, whispers: “A word, dearest”, his voice tense in a way that gives Rook anxiety. They excuse themselves from the table and Rook earnestly worries that they’ve offended him. They barely make it through the door to Emmrich’s library before he has Rook pinned against the nearest wall. Rook knows Emmrich as an attentive lover, giving to a fault. More often than not, Rook has to do a bit of sweet-talking before Emmrich lets his own pleasure be the focus, and wringing little sighs from him has become one of Rook’s favourite games. Right now, Emmrich is whimpering into Rook’s mouth, groping them with a neediness that renders him clumsy. Rook is more than willing to help. They are undressed within moments, and Emmrich in on them again immediately, taking just enough time to position them both against the desk for support.

It doesn’t take long before they are soaking wet, mainly because this new side of Emmrich turns them on so much they think they might just black out. Usually, Emmrich tends to lavish them with praise, and the way his voice falters in between declarations of affection when he’s losing control is the hottest thing Rook has ever heard - until tonight. Because right now, Emmrich, who usually doesn’t shut up right until the very end, is unmistakably too horny to form words. He enters them with a cry that is equal parts need and relief, as if every second leading up to their union had him in agony. Rook wraps themselves around him, cooing into his ear that yes, Maker, he feels good, this is so right, they want him so much. The one word that makes it over Emmrich’s lips is Rook’s name, uttered over and over, a moan, a whisper, a plea. Emmrich doesn’t last long, and he comes with a groan from so deep within his soul it seems entirely removed from his speaking voice.

Rook wraps their arms tight around Emmrich as he catches his breath against their neck. They can sense his mind kicking back into gear, ever overthinking.

“That”, they whisper into his ear before he can even begin to feel self-conscious about what just happened, “was amazing.”

Emmrich huffs a laugh that is muffled by Rook’s skin. He sounds incredulous. They untangle from each other, just enough for Emmrich to rest his forehead against Rook’s. His smile is somewhat sheepish, but his eyes glow with adoration.

“I truly wish I could explain”, he says.

“Oh, I think I got the gist of it”, Rook says with a grin.

The way he spoils Rook after feels almost like an apology. Rook wishes he left them with enough breath to say there’s nothing to be sorry for. Then again: They’ll have time enough to talk later.

[just-dreaming-marvel]

Love That Burns ~ Ending 2 ~ 41

LOVE THAT BURNS MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 3,165ish

Summary: You and Logan try to mend your relationship.

Notes: Officially starting the Logan movie scenes!

Reminder: I DO NOT do taglists. Please don’t ask. Please follow and interact! I appreciate any reblogs, likes, comments, and asks!

“The adamantium is poisoning me,” Logan admitted as he held you tightly against him. The two of you were cuddled up in your bed, cleaned up, and clothed after the make-up sex the two of you shared.

“What?” You moved to sit up slightly, looking down at his face.

“My adamantium skeleton is what’s killing me.”

“And it’s causing you pain?”

“Yes.”

“And your healing abilities, they’ve—“

“They’re still there, just much slower and leaving scars.”

“Like mine.”

“I think yours are better at this point, sweetheart.” You closed your eyes as you tried not to cry. Logan’s hand came up to cup your cheek, his thumb rubbing up against your skin. “Don’t cry, honey. You know I can’t stand that.”

“There has to be something someone can do—that I can do— to help you.”

“There’s nothing, baby.”

“Where does it hurt right now?”

“Sweetheart—“

“Tell me.”

Logan sighed. “My wrists.” 

You took the hand he had on your cheek and kissed the inside of his wrist before grabbing his other hand and doing the same thing. “Where else?”

“My shoulders.” 

Logan’s shoulders were easy to access since he was wearing one of his white tank tops. You pressed kisses around his shoulder closest to you before moving to the next one. Then you warmed up your hands, not too much to burn him, and placed a hand on each of his shoulders. Logan let a relieved moan slip from his lips as he closed his eyes. You pressed a kiss to his bearded jaw as you continued to try to ease some of his pain like you were his personal heating pad.

“Stop,” he eventually groaned.

You quickly removed your hands and sat up. “Did I hurt you?”

“No, no,” his hands ran down your arms, “never. It’s just… I’m supposed to be making amends. You shouldn’t be taking care of me like this.”

“James.” You shot him a brief glare. “This is you making amends by letting me take care of you.”

“But I need to be taking care of you like I’ve failed to do.”

“You are. This bed. Me staying here. How hard you are constantly working. You are taking care of me. But you need to let me take care of you, too.” You ran a hand through his hair, beginning to warmly massage his scalp. “No more sleeping alone. No more secrets, even if you’re trying to protect me.”

“I don’t deserve you.”

You sighed. “I hate it when you say that.” You moved to straddle Logan, careful not to put too much weight on his body. His hands held your hips as your hands came up to his face. “You deserve good things, Logan. You are not a bad person or an animal.”

“I—“

You placed a hand over his mouth. “No. You are good. You deserve good. You deserve me.” You began tearing up, hating when Logan got this way. You just wanted him to believe you. “I love you, James.”

“I know, I know,” he reached up and cupped your face, thumbs wiping the stray tears. “I’m sorry. I love you, too, sweetheart.”

“Tell me.”

“What?”

“Tell me what you deserve. You need to start believing it.”

Logan sighed. “I am good… I deserve good… I deserve you.” He pulled you down and kissed you softly. “Thank you.”

~~~

Logan and you went down for breakfast together, holding hands. Caliban was already in the kitchen, readying some food.

“Not that I’m unhappy the two of you have made up,” Caliban started, “but next time, I would appreciate it if you weren’t so loud.”

“Thought you were out in the tank,” Logan grumbled.

“I was.”

“Then wear some earplugs next time.”

“Be nice,” you chided, patting Logan’s arm. “Sorry, Caliban.”

“Thank you,” Caliban responded. “Breakfast is free game. I’m going to eat with Charles. Give you two some more time alone.”

“Thanks.” You elbowed Logan as he reached for a pancake.

“Ow,” he grunted, looking at you with a confused expression. “What?”

“Say thank you.”

Logan sighed, “Thank you.”

Caliban took the tray as he shook his head, and headed out to Charles. Logan wrapped an arm around you, pulling you into his side before kissing your head.

“Got to work today,” he said.

You rested your head on him and sighed. “Okay… I’ll miss you.”

“Good,” he smirked. “I’ll be late because I have to pick up Charles’ meds.”

“If I give you a list, can you run to the store for groceries?”

“Sure.”

~~~

“I love you,” Logan whispered against your lips before stealing a kiss.

“I love you, too,” you replied. “Be safe. I’ll have dinner ready for you whenever you get home.”

“You don’t need to wait up.”

“But I want to… I don’t sleep well without you.”

“Try for me, sweetheart. I’ll wake you up when I get home.” He pressed another kiss to your lips. “I promise.”

“If you don’t, I’ll burn you to a crisp.”

Logan chuckled. “I don’t doubt it, honey.” 

He kissed your forehead before walking to the limo. You leaned against the doorway, wrapped up in one of his flannels, and watched him drive away. You hated how far away Logan had to drive for work, but you understood why he needed to keep Charles away from others.

~~~

Logan was exhausted. It was well past midnight as he pulled up to the smelting plant. He was later than he had hoped, but he had to argue to get Charles’ meds. Limping into the plant with arms full of groceries, Logan tried to be as quiet as possible. The small TV was playing quietly in the makeshift living room, providing the only light. The changing scenes increased the light on your sleeping figure on the couch. 

Logan smiled softly, shaking his head. He made quick work of putting the groceries away and getting Charles’ meds ready for the next day before he carefully came over to you. He crotched down beside the couch to get a good look at your relaxed features. 

“I missed this,” he whispered, mostly to himself. “I missed coming home to you.”

Biting down a groan, Logan swept you into his arms and headed up the stairs to your room. It wasn’t until he set you down in your bed that you started to wake.

“Logan?” You whimpered as he pulled away.

He leaned down and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Go back to sleep,” he whispered. “I’m gonna clean up and be right back.”

“Okay…”

As quickly as Logan’s failing body allowed him to, he had showered and changed before coming back to you. You were back asleep. He carefully picked you back up and laid down before placing you on top of him. It wasn’t easy on Logan’s joints to sleep with you on top of him, and he knew there would be long-term effects if he continued, but he had to. Sleeping without you anymore wasn’t an option for either of you. Maybe he could scrape enough money for a larger bed. Perhaps for your birthday. But you would hate him for spending money on you like that. You deserved it, though; you deserved a life much better than this. A life that you two once shared.

~~~

The months following were not easy, and you and Logan still struggled, but it was better. The two of you would fight but quickly work it out. There was no going to be angry.

Charles was gradually getting worse. Logan would still only allow you to visit Charles when he was there. It was frustrating, but when you experienced each of his seizures, you understood more and more.

You noticed that Logan was getting worse, too. It was heartbreaking to see the man you love struggling, and you couldn’t do much about it.

One day, you noticed that Logan had reading glasses in his pocket. You kept an eye on him, seeing if he would ever use them, though you knew he needed to. It was a few days later when you caught him trying to read a newspaper without them. He kept grunting as he squinted his eyes and moved the paper back and forth. You sighed, shaking your head at his stubbornness. You went and took the glasses from his jacket pocket. Quietly, you came up behind him and leaned over, slipping the glasses onto his face.

“Hey!” He protested.

“Use them,” you told him, pressing a kiss to his head.

“Don’t need them.”

You laughed. “Yes, you do.”

“Don’t you think they make me look… ancient?”

You sat down in the chair next to Logan and guided his head to look at you. “I think they’re sexy.” 

Logan scoffed. “Sexy? Really?”

“Honey, anything that helps you is sexy to me.” You leaned forward and pecked his lips. “Use them. Stop being stubborn.”

“As you wish, sweetheart.”

~~~

Months later, you noticed Logan struggling more and more. He had a bigger limp and a cough now. His hair was grayer and there were more wrinkles. But he was still your Logan, your love.

“It’s nice to see you and Logan back together,” Charles said as you brought him his breakfast one morning, “where you belong.”

“Yeah,” you sighed. “I just wish I could do more to help ease his pain.”

“You’re doing enough, my dear. You’re doing enough to ease all of our pains.”

You kissed the top of Charles’ head. “I’ve got to go before Logan drags me out of here.”

“Maybe one day you can stay longer.”

“Maybe… See you later, Charles.”

Logan was waiting for you outside the tank, ready to go to work. “How is he today?” He asked, placing his hands on your hips and pulling you into him. 

“Sort of there.”

“And how are you?”

“Tired.”

“Get some rest today, then, baby.”

“Can’t you just stay home today?”

“Can’t. We need the money.”

“Yeah…” you nodded, looking down. 

“Hey,” Logan’s fingers hooked under your chin and gently pushed your face up. “What else is going on?”

“I just… I’m worried… Something is coming. I—I can feel it.”

“You’re safe.”

“Maybe I’m not. Maybe we’re all not safe.”

Logan sighed, glancing at the time on his watch. “I’ve got to go, but we’ll talk more about this when I come home.” He softly kissed you. “I love you, darlin’.”

“Love you, too.”

~~~

Logan knew he should have gone home, but he was tired and needed a few more jobs tonight. He decided to get some alcohol and take a nap in the back of the limo. He woke up to a group of men trying to steal the limo’s tires. Logan was forced to fight them off with his claws, getting shot multiple times. 

After killing three of them, the rest drove off. Logan got back into the limo and drove to a nearby gas station. He was thankful that he kept extra clothes in the trunk, just in case. Leaning over the sink, Logan grunted and groaned as the blood hit the porcelain and the bullets slowly and painfully forced their way out of him. 

Logan thought of you as he stood there. He knew that you would want to know what happened, but he was scared too worry you too much. He knew you already were worried. But, needing to hear your voice as he cleaned up, he called you.

“Hello?” Your sleepy voice filled the bloody gas station bathroom.

“Hey, baby,” Logan breathed out, trying to keep the pain from you.

“What’s wrong? Wait— Logan, it’s late. Why aren’t you home?”

“Just needed to pick up a few more jobs tonight.”

“Okay… but why does it sound like you’re in pain?”

Logan sighed. He should have known better than trying to hide this from you. “I’m fine, sweetheart. Just had to fight off some thieves.”

“Logan—“

“Needed to hear your voice.”

“Then come home. Rest. We can worry about money in the morning. Let me take care of you.”

“I’m fine, darlin’. I’ll be home in the morning.”

“Logan—“

“Sorry for waking you up. Go back to sleep. Love you.” 

He hung up before you could get another word in.

~~~

Logan picked up three more jobs. One was a morning funeral, where he had been recognized as the Wolverine by a woman who insisted she needed his help. After avoiding her, Logan went to the hospital and grabbed the needed drugs for Charles. 

He got into his limo, only for a man to enter through the back. Logan turned around, ready to yell at the man.

“As I live and breathe, the Wolverine,” the man commented. “And he’s a junkie now.”

“Who the fuck are you?” Logan asked.

“You know, you got some buckshot in your door. I heard you was in Phoenix. But then, last night, some friends of mine in Texas HP called and told me they found three dead cholos in a pullout on 54. Not unusual, I know. Except one was missing a hand, another one a leg. So they was thinking it was either an escaped tiger or Freddy Krueger. But neither one of them can drive, one being fictional, the other one extinct. And since the wheel lugs they found belonged to a ’24 Chrysler and, well, this is a ’24 Chrysler… She found you yet?”

“Who?”

“Well, I guess there’s two of them… your girl and Gabriela.” Logan tensed at the mention of you. “Y/N’s been off our radar for a while now, but we know it’s only a matter of time before she finds you. Though, she’s not our main priority. See… I’m not looking for you, Wolvie, or your girl—well, anymore. I’m looking for someone who’s looking for you. She took something of mine when I wasn’t looking. Something for which I am responsible. Mexican lady. Has her sights on you now. Doesn’t ring any bells?”

“I don’t know any Gabriela, so get the fuck out of my car.”

“Oh. You know…” The man moved closer. “I know what you’re hiding, amigo. The old cue ball south of the border.”

“What do you want?”

“A little cooperation.” He handed Logan a business card. Logan made no move to grab it, forcing the man to toss it at him. “I’m a fan, by the way.”

The man left the car, and Logan picked up the business card. The business name was eerily familiar: Alkali Transigen. The man’s name was Donald Pierce, and he was apparently head of security. Logan’s stomach dropped, knowing that this wasn’t a good thing.

“Fuck,” he muttered. “Fuck!”

~~~

Logan didn’t return home the next morning, nor did he return your calls. You were growing concerned. 

“We’re out of meds,” Caliban told you after he brought Charles lunch. “Logan was supposed to be back with them. He’s not having a good day.”

“Something’s wrong,” you said. “He won’t answer my calls either.” 

You tried to get your mind off of everything by doing the laundry. Only, you found an adamantium bullet in Logan’s pocket. That broke your heart and made you angry at the same time.

You walked out of the plant and began pacing, feeling your skin heat up. If Logan didn’t return soon, you would have to find a way to get Charles’ meds without a vehicle. You would also need to find out where Logan went and confront him about the bullet. The familiar sound of the limo and the gate opening caught your attention. Logan pulled up, and you bulleted to the limo, launching yourself at Logan before he could fully stand up.

“Hey,” Logan coughed as you gripped him tightly. “What’s going—“

“You don’t get to do that!” You shouted, pulling back and shoving him against the limo. “You don’t get to call when things aren’t okay and then drop off the face of the earth!”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I… I’ve been working.”

“You still had time to call me back. Even just to say that you were still alive! You’re so frustrating, you know?”

“Honey—“

“And this!” You pulled out the adamantium bullet. “Found this while doing the laundry. Are you planning on blowing your brains out? At one point, only your memory would die with this, but now… this could actually kill you, Logan! Why the hell wouldn’t you tell me that this was your plan? What happened to not leaving me?”

“I don’t really have a choice, sweetheart. I’m dying.”

“But you’re not even fighting to stay anymore! I thought… I thought that I mattered to you.”

“You are everything to me, baby. But this is something neither of us can fight.”

“Just… go. Go inside. Charles needs his meds. He had a seizure this morning… And I need to cool down.”

“Y/N…” 

But you walked off faster than he could catch up to you.

~~~

When you finally decided to go inside, you found Logan in his room. The door was cracked open, allowing you to lean against the doorframe and peek in. Logan was sitting on the edge of his bed. He had a variety of alcohol in front of him with one of the bottles opened. His right hand had his claws out, only they weren’t all the way out. They were stuck. He was grunting in pain as he pulled at one of the stuck claws, trying to get it out.

You quickly entered and knelt in front of him. Glancing up at him, you could tell that he was ashamed. You took his hand from his claw and set it to the side before taking the hand with his claws out. Warming up your hands, you carefully used them to try to ease the pain.

“You don’t have to do this, sweetheart,” Logan grumbled. “I can take care of myself.”

“Clearly, you can’t,” you responded.

As you took care of his hand, the stuck claws slowly pushed out to their normal length. You carefully kissed the tip of each of them before kissing Logan’s knuckles, noticing the puss now oozing from where the claws were pushing out. Both of his hands were now trembling, making your heart break further for him.

“I don’t want you to remember me like this,” he quietly admitted, a tear rolling down his cheek. “Weak… pathetic…”

“You are neither of those things, Logan,” you told him. You cupped his face as you stayed knelt between his legs. 

“I should have told you about the bullet.”

“You should have.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I know.”

“And I’ll call you back next time.”

“You better.”

Logan sighed, feeling the pain settle in him. “Can we lie down in your bed?”

Without a verbal response, you stood up and took Logan’s hands. You guided him over to your room and allowed him to lie down first. You warmed your body up as you moved yourself behind him, spooning him. He sighed, relaxing into you.

“Relax, honey,” you whispered, pressing a kiss to his neck. “I’ve got you.”

next chapter >

[katyawriteswhump]

hot chocolate for the soul 💝

@steddieholidaydrabbles day 23 prompt, ‘hot chocolate;’  @steddiemas week 4 prompt, ‘surprise,’ @whumpcember day 23 prompt, ‘overwhelmed.’

WC: 969; Rating: G; CW: None; Tags: fluff, found family, established steddie, mention of health conditions, Eddie lives HEA, soft everyone! Summary: Steve decides to surprise Eddie and Wayne with hot chocolate. He's got no idea of the emotional fireworks he’s going to unleash... (of the good variety!)

💝💝💝💝💝💝

Steve let himself in through the door, precariously balancing three hot-chocolate drinks. He was ridiculously proud that he’d got home with barely a slop. The cream and marshmallows hadn’t sunk totally flat yet.

“Honey!” Eddie rushed at Steve and plastered a wet kiss on his cheek. Steve almost yelped—okay, still no spillages. His coordination skills weren’t totally shot. “Mmmmm, mmmmm,” said Eddie. “That chocolate smells amazing, Babe. You shouldn’t have.”

“Yeah, I should’ve,” mumbled Steve. Eddie took the drinks, so he could slip out of his winter jacket. “I wanted to surprise you by doing something, I dunno, nice for a change? Sorry I was cranky this morning before work.”

“Huh? Didn’t notice.”

Eddie slipped his arm through Steve’s and led him to the kitchen area. Wayne stirred a big pan of bolognese sauce. He greeted Steve with a quiet ‘Hey,’ and a smile that could melt polar ice-caps.

“Hey,” smiled Steve, before plonking the drinks on the table and reverting his attention to Eddie. “What do you mean, ‘didn’t notice?’ You saying I’m always grouchy in the morning?”

“Wouldn’t have my bitchy darling any other way.”  Eddie pressed Steve into a chair then headed to help Wayne. “Seriously, though, you were fine.”

Steve inhaled sharply, his chest kinda catching—partially on the delicious odours from Wayne’s cooking, overwhelming even the hot chocolate, though mainly on the emotions surging inside him.

He had been cranky this morning. He’d had a bad headache for days. Eddie and Wayne didn’t deserve to be dragged down by him. Hell, post-Vecna-everything, the ‘powers-that-be’ might have compensated the Munsons with a nice little house, but they couldn’t cure Eddie’s chronic pain and regular panic attacks any more than they could fix Steve’s.

Yet, here Steve was. 

In the snuggest kitchen on earth, with his loving boyfriend and his kind uncle smiling down at him like he was sunshine itself. Then Wayne’s gaze alighted on the hot chocolate. He turned off the cooktop, his face turning deadly grave. 

“You brought that, son? For us?”

“Uh, yeah?” Steve was suddenly nervous. He swallowed hard, watching Wayne’s Adam’s apple bob as he apparently mirrored him.

Then Wayne pulled out a chair, sat down opposite Steve. His face crumpled, and he burst into tears.

“Shit!” squeaked Steve, glancing up at Eddie, who also looked mildly alarmed. “Did I do something wrong?" On instinct, Steve reached across the table to Wayne, who grabbed Steve’s fingers.

“No, no.” Wayne sniffed. “It’s just… I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. It’s just… t-this year, I thought I lost my sweet boy. I thought I lost everything, and now… h-here we are… all together… I got me two sweet boys to love. Two.”

“Oh,” said Steve, very softly, still kinda panicking for reasons he wasn’t sure of. Fortunately, Eddie had totally got this. He plonked himself at Wayne’s side, threw his arms around him, and joined him in sobbing his heart out.

Wayne had still gotten hold of Steve’s fingers, wringing them to the point of pain. Between hiccupping sobs, Eddie spluttered, “St-Steve… Stevie?” while flailing an arm toward Steve, gesturing wildly that he should join them.

Steve realized he was gawking, snapped his mouth shut. He felt it, he honestly did, his chest burning with love and gratitude. He also felt bad. Harringtons didn’t cry, and years of conditioning left their mark. That said, he’d cried a lot this last year, not all of it solo. 

He wasn’t a Harrington anymore. Not really.

He was a Munson, heart and soul. At least, he wanted to be… 

“Babe?” Eddie’s arm remained outstretched. Wayne’s pleading, watery eyes upon Steve were pretty much the final straw. Steve’s pent-up feelings surged upward… into a very slight sniffle.

Ding-dong!

Steve genuinely hated that he thought, Saved by the bell! 

“I’ll get that.” He dabbed his eyes.

It was Dustin and Claudia, who Wayne often invited to dinner. Steve endured an awkward moment, struggling to explain, as the Hendersons entered the kitchen to find the Munsons a bawling mess. Dustin looked up at Steve, utterly aghast, before Wayne rescued him. “St-Steve bought hot chocolate. What a thoughtful surprise. After everything this year, it was just so… so… darn…”

Claudia was already breaking. Within seconds, she and Dustin joined Wayne and Eddie in a four-way waterworks cuddle, leaving Steve standing, hands on hips, utterly bewildered. 

Okay, also grinning his face off through a faint sheen of tears. If the people he cared for were happy, he was. Wasn’t his fault they had a crazy way of showing it.

He really wanted ‘in’ on the hug, though. He felt more and more excluded and squirmy, though everyone entreated him to join them, between sputters and sniffles.

Ding-dong.

Steve dashed to the door. 

“Hey,” said Robin. “You were in such a mad rush to get hot chocolate before the diner closed, you forgot your pain meds, Dingus. Shit! Oh my God, who died?”

“Nobody.” Steve pinched his aching brow. “I think they’re happy. It was um… s-something… to do with the… d-dumbass hot… choc…” 

Robin didn’t cry much easier than Steve did. Once she set off, though, that was that. They piled into the six-way hug, sobbing till they were all pretty much cried out. Apart from Steve, who kept sniffling forever. 

His face burned. He figured he was embarrassed… until he realized he wasn’t, not really.

He felt okay.

Yeah, his head hurt, but he’d gotten it leaned lightly on Eddie’s shoulder, which was scarred but healing. Eddie was alive. They were all here, together, and safe, holding each other tightly, if only for this perfect moment. 

He loved them so much, and accepting so much love was really difficult, dammit. He was learning from the best.

They divided the cold hot chocolate into six mugs and laughed the evening away.

🍪🍪🍪🍪🍪🍪🍪🍪🍪🍪🍪💝💝💝💝💝💝

No pressure tags: @wheneverfeasible 💚❤️💚 My fic on ao3

[knivestothroats]

The Professionals - Overdraft Fee

(Because it comes after Withdrawals) The Pros Masterlist || ITWS Masterlist || Pro/Vic Masterlist CW: drug addiction/withdrawls, vomiting, hallucinations

Fletcher eased the door open and peered in at Tommy. He was pale and sweaty, squirming in discomfort on top of the bedsheets.

“Hey,” Fletcher shut the door behind them. “How are you doing?”

Tommy’s eyes snapped open to glare at Fletcher, but he held his tongue.

“Drink more water,” Fletcher said, nodding to the still mostly full bottle on his bedside table. “You don't need to ration it. It’ll help with the aches.”

“It’ll help with the aches?” Tommy repeated scornfully. “I can think of something that would help more.”

Fletcher put their hands on their hips. “Okay, I understand that you’re going through it right now, so-”

“You don't understand what I’m going through!” Tommy snapped. Some of the anger dissipated from his features under Fletcher’s cold stare, replaced by fear and misery. He pressed his hands over his eyes. “I’m sorry, just… I can be useful to you if I’m not sick. Please, just… give me something.”

“Look, I can get you methadone tomorrow - probably. You just have to make it ‘til then.”

“I don’t believe that you don’t have anything.”

“Why would I withhold that?”

“No, drugs!” Tommy snapped again. “You have to have something!”

“I never said that I don’t have any painkillers,” Fletcher responded evenly. “I don’t keep recreational drugs in the house, though. So no coke. And no antidepressants, either, although we can… figure that out later if we need to.”

Tommy scoffed. “Maybe you should.”

Fletcher stepped closer. “What?”

Tommy scowled and looked away. “Nothing,” he muttered.

“No, what did you mean?”

Tommy looked at them now, hate burning in his eyes.

“Maybe you should be medicated. Or at least take something that makes you fun to be around, instead of being some sad asshole who lives in the woods out of-”

Fletcher slapped him hard enough to make his head spin. Before Tommy could curl up in a defensive position, Fletcher grabbed his face and brought it close to theirs.

“Out of what?” they hissed.

Tommy averted his eyes and gritted out, “Sorry,” despite still looking pissed.

“No,” Fletcher gave his head a little shake. “Out of what? Tell me what you were gonna say.”

Tommy wasn’t out of his head enough to finish his sentence. He knew it was better to keep his mouth shut. But they were digging their fingers into his cheeks and demanding a response and they weren’t even letting him beg or bargain for pain relief and….

Tommy began to cry, still caught in Fletcher’s grip. He didn’t mean to, but his head was pounding and his body ached and he was hot and cold at the same time and he never stopped feeling like he was on the verge of throwing up and Fletcher wouldn’t even let him do anything to get drugs. They wouldn’t give him anything at all. 

Fletcher made a noise of disgust and released him.

“Give me a shout if you think you’re gonna die,” they said over their shoulder as they stormed out of the room, leaving Tommy alone again.

I just have to get through the break, Tommy kept telling himself. This fever - the withdrawals - they had to break at some point, right? 

God, he missed the internet. WebMD, save me now. He wasn’t sure what would happen, or how long it would take. Would he really die? 

The idea of Fletcher letting him die, purely out of spite, just because they wouldn’t give him drugs, was a funny thought. Funny enough that he laughed about it. It felt like a real possibility, real and close to happening, and he was just snorting and giggling about it on his sweat-soaked sheets. 

Maybe they’ll do it. It might as well happen. He’d had his fun, got to play for a few hours thinking maybe this new life could be okay, could be better. Only to have it snatched away, the dwindling drugs leaving him dying here would be a poignant last kiss goodbye from Caius. He stopped laughing. He laid there in silence and wished things were different. That maybe he could have been someone else.

He hated Caius. He hated Fletcher. To his surprise, Caius visited first. 

Tommy didn’t hear him come in. There was a hand on his face, cradling his chin, another pushing the hair back from his sweaty forehead. He smelled like clean cotton and sandalwood. He was put together as always, beautiful as he was the first day they met. He was wearing that soft linen shirt Tommy liked, that he would rub his cheek on when he pulled it out of the laundry just because it felt nice. So few things in Caius’s home made him feel nice. 

There were no eyes past his clear rimmed glasses, replaced with glowing circles, just like spots in his vision when he’d stared at the sun for too long. The hands on his face were hot, too close, his skin felt unbearably sensitive to his touch - but Caius had come back for him, he wouldn’t let Fletcher leave him to die.

“Caius,” he breathed, and a sob of relief bubbled in his chest. “You - you came back for me.”

“You look awful. Is this any way to behave for one of my friends?” His tone was deceptively gentle, the way it always was, chastising him softly.

“Nooo,” Tommy wheezed, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry-”

“They’re sending you home with me. They don’t want you, either.”

Tommy whimpered, sneaking a peek back at the window, at the sunlight streaming in. He felt a pang of remorse for snapping at Fletcher, after all they’d done for him. Caius’s hands pulled his face back, forcing him to stare back into those hollow eyes.

“It’s okay now Tommy, I can make it stop.”

Tommy clutched at his wrists, needed to feel he was real.

“You can?” The whole room was swimming, and all he could do was drown. 

“Please, please, make it stop, please, I’m so sorry,” he begged. He could go home with him happily if he would just stop the pain.

“What are you sorry for?”

Caius’s voice turned cold. So did his hands, suddenly freezing against his skin. He feared they might stick, like a tongue to a frozen pole. He couldn’t speak. He was frozen, too.

“For ruining everything we had? How about that, Tommy, is that it?”

“Yes,” Tommy gasped, as Caius’s nails grew into talons sharp against his face. “Yes, Caius, I’m so sorry, I-”

“Look at me,” Caius snarled, and he gripped the sides of Tommy’s face, looming in closer. Those fingernails burrowed into his scalp. Tommy couldn’t look away, staring into the blinding suns of Caius’s eyes. It burned a searing pain, his eyes were on fire, but he was paralyzed with fear. Caius pressed his thumbs under Tommy’s eyes, pulling the lower lids down as if to peel them from his face. His fingers were long and needle-like now, the sharp tips hovering only a hair’s breadth away from Tommy’s eyes. 

“I’m going to make sure you never see the sun again,” Caius hissed, and he plunged his armored thumbs into his eyes, turning the whole world black in an explosion of pain. 

Tommy screamed and thrashed. A shadow moved in Caius’s eyes and suddenly he wasn’t there. Forming in his place was Fletcher leaning over him, blocking the harsh glow of his ceiling light.

“Hey, hey.”

The hands on his face were human again. He reached up and grabbed onto Fletcher’s wrists. They felt more real.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he wailed. “I’m sorry for what I said. I don’t want to go back, I don’t want to go back in the dark…”

“Alright, alright, calm down,” Fletcher assured him. “You’re not going anywhere, okay?”

Caius peered down at him from over Fletcher’s shoulder.

“I can make the pain stop if you come home with me,” he promised.

Tommy wanted the pain to stop. He wanted it more than anything. But he knew going back with Caius meant being locked back in the dark, cold basement. He knew he would be trading this pain now for more pain in the future. He had made Caius so angry… but still…

“How could you get rid of me?” Tommy sobbed. “How could you… how could you not even say goodbye… after everything… after everything you did to me…”

Fletcher’s brows knit together as they watched Tommy babble to no one, eyes unfocused and drifting. His body jerked suddenly and he rolled over to throw up into the garbage. 

At least he had the wherewithal not to asphyxiate. Fletcher pushed his hair off his face as he heaved again. He was hot to the touch.

The door opened and Williams poked his head in.

“What’s going on in here?”

“Do you need something?” Fletcher asked impatiently. 

“I heard screaming; are you torturing him or something?”

“Willy, you thought I was torturing him in here and you just walked in?”

Williams bristled. “It’s Billy.”

“What do you want?” Fletcher repeated.

Williams nodded towards Tommy. “What’s the matter with him?”

“He’s going through withdrawals.”

Williams blanched slightly. “Oh, yeah? What, uh, kind of stuff was he on?”

Fletcher sighed and shook their head, watching Tommy spit into the can. “I don’t know. Opioids mostly.”

“Methadone helps with that.”

Fletcher sighed louder. “If I had methadone, I would be using it. I have a hook up, but I can’t get it until tomorrow.”

Williams studied Tommy for a moment. “You buy this guy on the black market or something?”

“…Something like that,” Fletcher conceded. “Last time I’m going to ask you if you need something, otherwise leave.”

Williams put up his hands in surrender and left, closing the door once more. 

Fletcher turned their attention to Tommy again. He seemed to be done retching, and at least wasn’t begging to empty air anymore. 

“Okay, try to stand up.”

Fletcher took Tommy’s arms and gently pulled him up. They put an arm around his waist to guide him onto his feet. Tommy grabbed onto their shirt to steady himself, leaning against them as he wobbled through the first few steps across the room.

“Easy, Model-T,” Fletcher cooed. They kept him steady as they led him to the bathroom and shut the door behind them. 

“Alright, get out of your clothes.”

Numbly, Tommy disrobed, refusing to look at Fletcher. He was sweating and shivering at the same time, too empty to retch again. He was distinctly aware that he was not impressing Fletcher. 

Fletcher looked him over with a clinical eye. They’d noticed the new scar on his face, and some uneven marbling of his skin, but they had assumed them to be more scars, or a skin condition. Whatever it was, it was brought to stark relief with him nude in the bathroom light. He was dappled all over in patchy white marks, so bleached they looked almost translucent. His ribs jutted out, clearly underfed and malnourished from years of neglect. Whatever the hell they had done to him, his body had taken a severe toll. But now was not the time to interrogate him.

“Okay, get in the tub. You can sit if you need to.”

Fletcher turned the water on as they gave the instructions, putting their hand in the stream to check the temperature. 

Tommy teetered as he lifted each leg to step into the tub, and kept a hand on the tiled wall as he lowered himself down. 

“Okay, it’s gonna be cold,” Fletcher warned before pulling the diverter and switching the stream of water to the shower head. 

Tommy flinched as the water hit him. It wasn’t hard, and it wasn’t freezing, but it was a shock against his feverish skin. After a moment, it became a relief, grounding him. 

Tommy leaned against the wall, resting his temple on the tiles. He pulled his legs up and wrapped his arms under his knees.

“‘M sorry,” he murmured.

“You don’t have to keep saying that,” Fletcher responded, sitting on the closed toilet. “I don’t even think you know what you’re apologizing for.”

“No… I’m sorry you have to do all this for me. I’m sure this isn’t what you wanted… when you bought me.”

Fletcher said nothing.

“I, um,” Tommy swallowed. “I’ll make it up to you. When I’m better.”

Fletcher sighed. “Alright. I’m sure you’ll be cussing me out for not giving you drugs in like ten minutes.”

They both sat in silence for a moment, the only sound the rush of the falling water.

“Are you going to send me back?” Tommy asked in a small voice.

“No.” Fletcher didn’t hesitate.

All things considered - at least until the next wave of pain and nausea hit and the cravings took over his system - Tommy hoped they were telling the truth.

Fletcher stopped the shower before Tommy got too cold. They let him towel off and returned with clean clothes before leading him back to his room. 

“Try to get some sleep. I’ll be back around.”

Sleep wasn’t on the table for Tommy. Not in this state. He tossed and turned, unable to get comfortable.

When the door opened again, it wasn’t Fletcher - it was Williams.

He slipped carefully into Tommy’s room, shutting the door quietly behind him.

“What were you on before?” he asked. “Percs, oxy?”

“I don’t know,” Tommy groaned, turning his head away. “Probably.”

Williams leaned down close. He took hold of Tommy’s chin with two fingers, turning it towards himself and guiding it down. Tommy dutifully opened without much thought. Williams placed something on his tongue.

Tommy’s eyes widened.

It was a pill.

“Don’t say I never did nothin’ for ya.”

Tommy grabbed his water and drank down the pill as Williams slipped out again.

Maybe it was foolish not to spit it out and check what it was. He wasn’t sure if he’d even be able to tell. But at this point, he didn’t really care. He just wanted to feel good enough to return to his chores. 

Whatever happened, he couldn’t lose the light again.

@suspicious-whumping-egg @whumpyourdamnpears @generic-whumperz @lonesome--hunter

@whumplr-reader @theelvishcowgirl @sunshiline-writes @dont-be-gentle-please @galesgallery

@2in1whump @sparrowsage @apokolyps @whumpinggrounds

@morning-star-whump @leviiio @alexmundaythrufriday

@defire @jumpywhumpywriter @watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees

@light-me-on-pyre @slightlydisturbedbeans @dislexiher @paperprinxe @desert-dyke

@just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @burtlederp @whatwasmyprevioususername @cursedandtired

@whump-only @misspelledwitch @redstainedsocks @thehopelessopus @im-just-here-for-the-whump

@thatsthewhump @utopian819 @pretty-face-breaker @thesuffererrrr @victimeyez

[fanficsbysteve]

Jeremy Crow

Note: When I write my BuckTommy stuff, I always draw on my own personal experiences when writing stuff for Tommy. He’s a 40 year old gay man, I’m a 40 year old gay man. His Dad was abusive as shit growing up. My Dad was abusive as shit growing up. So, I feel we could have some very similar stuff happen in our lives. So, I had this thought and figured that in my head this was true. So, enjoy another of my silly little headcanons.

Also available on AO3 if you want to leave Kudos.

***

Tommy took Evan up to his bedroom to get ready for bed, and some other things beforehand but Tommy was not going to push for that. It had been two weeks since they had spoken and realized they were both idiots and decided to try again, just not going at light speed that Evan had been going at. Tommy was going to talk about how things made him feel and wasn’t just ‘trying to keep up’ with Evan’s pace. They were also going to go at Tommy’s pace as well.

     Going into the room, Tommy looked at the bed and spotted something sitting in the middle of the bed. Tommy froze. Oh god he had forgotten to put that away. Evan went past Tommy into the room and his eyes also fell onto the bed, “Oh what’s that?” he asked, looking at the bed as well.

     Sitting in the middle of the pillows was a stuffed crow. It looked like it had seen better days, its better days being three decades ago. The black fuzz that had been its torso had all but worn away, the paint on its eyes had been rubbed off and was just the white of the eyes now. The only part that seemed to have withstood the test of time was the beak of the crow, “Um…” Tommy started, “That would be Jeremy. Jeremy Crow.”

 Tommy looked at the crow sitting on his bed, named after a character from a movie he had watched as a child. He had gotten it when he was around five years old and had been sleeping with him every night since. There was something comforting about having Jeremy with him. He slept better. Tommy sometimes thought that Jeremy kept the bad dreams away. He never had them when he had Jeremy in his arms. He had been trying to hide Jeremy away, not wanting Evan to see him because he was scared of what Evan would think about him. A grown man still sleeping with a stuffed animal from his childhood.

     Evan did something that shocked Tommy. Something he hadn’t expected. Evan walked over to the bed, got in, motioned for Tommy to join him, and handed Jeremy over to Tommy, “So tell me about Jeremy,” Evan asked as he lie down.

     Tommy took Jeremy and held him close, feeling the comfort that Jeremy brought to him, “I’ve had him for years,” Tommy started, “My Mom had seen him at a Garage sale and bought him for me. We didn’t have a lot of money growing up so things like this were rare. My mom did enjoy going to garage sales though. She could always find the most interesting treasures at those,” Tommy went to lay down fully in bed, “She passed away about a year after she gave me Jeremy. It’s the only thing I have left that reminds me of her.”

     Evan pulled Tommy into a cuddle. Wrapping his arms around the both of them, “I’m sorry that happened,” Evan said. Tommy had told him about how his mother had died when he was about 6 years old, and how his home life had gone downhill after that as his father had become an alcoholic, “I’m glad you still have something that reminds you of her.”

     Tommy let Evan hold him, feeling his warmth, Jeremy tucked in close to his chest, “I might not have it for long anyways,” Tommy said, “You saw what he looked like. He’s seen better days. I think his best days were back when I was a child. Soon he’s just going to fall apart like most things in my life and I’ll lose the last shred of my Mom.”

     Tommy felt tears welling up, but he refused to let them fall. He would not cry over this. He would remain strong, “You won’t lose the last shred of your Mom though,” Evan gave Tommy a squeeze, “She lives inside you. And you will always have her memory. Jeremy is a reminder of those memories but he’s just a thing.”

     “I know,” Tommy said, “Doesn’t make it less painful that I’ll lose him. Did you know that he’s the reason I don’t have nightmares all the time?”

     “You believe that your stuffed crow stops nightmares?” Evan sounded, “But my belief that I was cursed by a dead cowboy was silly?”

     “Oh, leave me alone,” Tommy playfully elbowed Evan, “I have my own beliefs just like you. I don’t believe in curses, but I’ve never had a nightmare so long as I have Jeremy with me. You’ve experienced my nightmares.”

     Tommy remembered when he was staying over at Evan’s place a few months ago. He felt he had his nightmares under control. He was very wrong. He had been having a flashback to his time in Iraq, he had joined the military and was working as a helicopter pilot, one of those big troop carrier types. They were flying over the desert when out of nowhere, someone fired a missile at them. Tommy saw it coming but not in time and the back of the chopper had been hit. He did everything he could to get them down safely, but they ended up crashing no matter what Tommy did. Six men died on impact. They were nowhere near a city or town. It took them 3 days to find their way back. Tommy had woken up screaming that night. Evan was freaking out about what was happening. He had no idea the PTSD that Tommy was suppressing every day, “I know,” Evan replied, continuing to hold him.

     “Lets just get some sleep,” Tommy said. He was exhausted from having to remember so many things he’s been trying so hard to keep down.

***

     Tommy was at Evan’s loft, laying in bed, waiting for Evan to finish up in the bathroom. He was ready for bed, laying in just his boxers, nothing else on. He preferred to sleep like this when at Evan’s loft. Evan kept the temperature up higher than Tommy did at his house, so it was always far too warm for him in the loft. Hot air rising and all that. Evan came out of the bathroom, dressed only in his underwear as well, and crawled into bed, “I got you something,” Evan said as he leaned over the bed to grab something from the side. Tommy was confused, “Since you don’t have Jeremy Crow while over here, I wanted you to have something to hold, maybe to keep the dreams at bay,” Evan pulled up a penguin, the size of Jeremy.

     Tommy reached out to take it from Evan. He had tears in his eyes. This was the first time someone had actually not mocked him for having Jeremy. The fact that Evan had taken the time to go out, find this penguin, just for Tommy to sleep with so he didn’t wake up screaming, which meant something to Tommy, “Evan,” was all he could manage to get out as his throat constricted as he wanted to cry.

     “He doesn’t have a name yet,” Evan replied, “I figured that you would want to name him yourself. I don’t know any good penguin movies besides Happy Feet. So, I will leave naming him to you,” Evan continued, “And if he works, would you allow me to take Jeremy to someone I found? After you showed me Jeremy, I started falling down a research hole.”

     Tommy was just staring at the penguin while Evan spoke, barely hearing what he was saying. Tommy at this moment knew that Evan was the one. The one to spend the rest of his life with. He just didn’t know how to broach the subject now. They had only been back together for three weeks, “Sorry what?”

     “I was asking if I could take Jeremy to a repair shop I found online,” Evan repeated. Tommy leaned into Evan, just staring at this new penguin, “He’s got a great online presence, lots of five star reviews on Google. I figured we could make Jeremy last awhile longer if we took him in for some repairs.”

     Tommy nodded his head absently at that, “Sounds good,” He said.

     “You seem a little out of it,” Evan asked, “Something wrong?”

     “Not really,” Tommy replied, “I’ve never had someone care about me so much. Usually, it was open mockery if anyone actually saw Jeremy. You are the first person who actually cared about me enough to not only not mock me about my crow that I sleep with, but you went out of your way to get something so that I could sleep well at your place as well.”

     “Well, you are important to me,” Evan said, “I wouldn’t have blurted out about moving in together all those months ago if I didn’t mean it. I want you to feel like you are at home here as well until the day we do decide to take the next steps.”

     Now it was Tommy’s turn to blurt things out. He shouldn’t have but he couldn’t help himself. He felt so complete now with Evan, knowing about his nightmares, how to help with them, “I love you,” Tommy said turning his head to face Evan, “I love you more than anything in this world. You are the first person who has ever taken the time to understand me. I want you to be my last.”

     Tommy watched as Evan was taken aback by his statement for a brief second, “I didn’t expect that,” a smile broke out over Evan’s face, “I love you too you fool. I figured that out months ago when I asked you to move in.”

     “We both agreed we were idiots,” Tommy said as he brought the penguin in for a tight hug. He felt similar to Jeremy, but softer, “But yes you can take Jeremy in for repairs, but only because I have Hubie here.”

     “Hubie?” Evan asked about the name.

     Tommy smiled, “Yes Hubie. I’m a child of the 80’s and 90’s. I watched a lot of Don Bluth movies. There was one about penguins and the main character is named Hubie. So, it fits.”

     “You’ll have to show me the movies that you get your names from one of these days,” Evan said, “But now lets get some sleep. It’s been a long day.”

     Tommy turned on his side, letting Evan take the Big Spoon position, holding Hubie close. A content sigh left his body as he felt this soft penguin in his arms, and Evan’s arms pulling him close. This was the perfect ending to a wonderful day.

***

Note: So yeah, I admit that I still have stuffed animals. I have the stuffed Mickey Mouse I had since I as a child still in my bedroom. I also have a stuffed Penguin I sleep with named Mr. Pickles. Just something I need to sleep. If I don’t have one of them, I can’t sleep well. And yes, I am actually a 40 year old man who sleeps with a stuffed penguin. Hate all you want but you won’t change me. For the record, Jeremy Crow came from The Secret of NIMH, and Hubie the Penguin is from The Pebble and the Penguin. Both Don Bluth movies.

[kteezy997]

Lady in Waiting- Epilogue(part one)//King Hal

Warnings: Hal being a dad fluff, smut, male receiving explicit oral sex, cursing, smut, female receiving oral sex, brief adult breastfeeding

Yes, I’m making the epilogue into two parts bc I am a menace

The rest of your pregnancy went splendidly well, and you gave birth to a healthy son. Hal even broke royal protocol, adamantly insisting on being in the room while you were giving birth.

"Your Grace, this is not for a man's eyes." he had been warned by one of the nurses as she tried to hold him back from entering the bed chambers.

With a fire in his green eyes he said, “I am the father of that child. I have fought on battlefields; I have seen far more horrific things than you could imagine. I think I can handle seeing my first child brought into this world. I am the King, and I will not leave y/n's side."

His promise was as true as ever. He held your hand the entire time you were pushing, encouraging you with his gentle words, in the tender tone that he reserved you only for you and the baby.

When your son was born crying, Hal gave you the most passionate kiss, "We have a boy, my darling, oh how I love you. You were so brave,” he praised you, gave you another kiss, “you were so strong." The King had a stream of happy tears flowing down his cheeks, his eyes widening in awe as he caught his first glimpses of your baby.

"I love you, Hal." You were more weak and tired than you ever thought possible, but you were so full of love that day.

You decided to name the baby boy Quentin, meaning "fifth", a subtle nod to his father, King Henry the Fifth. Though your son would not be heir to the throne, you wanted to honor Hal, and he had tears welling in his eyes once again when you told him about the name.

"I love it. It is perfect. You are perfect." He pulled you close, gently, as you were recovering from the birth.

You and Hal were standing together, watching your baby sleep in his bassinet. "No, he is perfect." you cooed. "Just look at him. He is an angel."

"He is amazing, is he not?" Hal grinned. "Would he be disturbed if I held him now?"

"No, no. Go ahead, I am sure he will stay asleep, even if you pick him up. He will be calm, he will sense that you are his father.”

“Really? You think so?” asked your King, slowly cupping the newborn’s body in his hands, cradling him in his arms with the most caution. But Hal was not afraid to hold the baby, to care for him, unlike most fathers who wanted very little to do with raising their children.

“I know so.” you answered in a whisper, unable to take your eyes off of little Quentin.

He watched in amazement as the tiny boy breathed softly, barely making a noise as he slept.

You heard Hal sniffle as you grazed your baby’s cheek with the pads of your fingers. You looked at your man’s face, totally smitten and tears forming. “Hal,” you giggled, “you must stop crying.”

Holding the baby in one arm, he wiped his tears away with the other hand, “I am sorry, my love, but I cannot help it. You created the most beautiful little boy.”

“We did.” you insisted, carefully putting your arms around Hal without disturbing Quentin, and you kissed your King.

4 months later…

Hal had a long day of royal duties, and Quentin had been abnormally fussy on this day. You both needed some relief.

Hal finally got the baby to sleep after rocking him. After placing Q in his bassinet and tucking him in with his blanket, Hal hurried to join you in bed.

Immediately shifting on top of you, he said, cupping your face, “I could not stop thinking of you all day.” He kissed your lips, sucking them into his wet mouth with greed.

“Mm.” you moaned as his fingers weaved into your hair. You parted from his lips, “I want you to fuck me.”

He groaned softly, with a cheeky smirk.

“But first, I wish to taste your cock.” you said confidently. Being with Hal had done wonders for your self esteem. You knew you could do or say anything to him, and he would love you all the more for it. Especially something such as this.

His eyes widened, he allowed you to move from underneath him, and force him onto his back. He swallowed hard, watching you pull his trousers down.

“You did not think I forgot about your special spot, did you?” you teased, gingerly taking his half hard cock in your hands. You coated his length with some saliva, having licked your own hand, and massaged his cock until he was fully hard.

Your King’s eyes drew closed here and there as your tongue swirled around his girth, and down his shaft. He groaned deep in his throat, licking his lips. His hips would jolt upward slightly.

You used the tip of your tongue to tease the soft skin between his shaft and his full testicles. He whimpered, softly still. You moaned and wiggled your lower half, feeling wet between your legs. You suctioned your lips to his deep pink, thick tip.

“Fuck.” you heard Hal’s strained whisper. You looked at him, his eyes clenched shut for a moment before he went back to watching you.

“Mmm.” you then moved to the underside of his cock, placing your moistened tongue there, just below the tip.

Now he gasped. You saw his bottom lip quiver.

Slowly, you lapped your tongue along that spot, holding his cock in your hand. You made sure to keep your mouth wet with saliva, and alternated kissing, licking and sucking his cock, specifically his sweet spot.

“I fucking love you.” the King whined, rubbing your head softly with his hand as you pleasured him.

“I love you too, my King.” you said in between pressing tender kisses on the tip of his cock.

“Lay back, I need to taste you now.” he cooed sitting up, placing his hands on your legs as you obliged his order.

As you relaxed on the bed, Hal settled between your thighs, tucking his arms around them. He instantly flattened his tongue onto your clit, gliding along the sensitive bundle. He used his lips to suckle, you felt his teeth lightly nibble, but the licking was most prevalent, causing a friction inside of you.

You would inadvertently arch your hips, and Hal would hold you back down, attacking your lower lips more intensely each time you would move, thus creating a cycle of euphoria for you. Just as your vision went black and you were seeing stars, his actions stopped completely.

You nearly went into shock, but you were relieved to feel his cock, barely touching you at first, then slowly sliding inside of you, taking several seconds to fit his entire length. You sighed in relief, he always felt incredible when he was all the way inside of you.

It was always such a tender moment for you both, him laying on top of you, warming you up and shielding you from the world, your sweaty skin sticking to his, sharing each other’s breath. You both knew that you could never get any closer. Next to your son being born, this was the best feeling you would experience, being so intertwined with the man you loved.

……

A few hours later, Hal woke you. The room was nearly pitch black if not for the moonlight and the stars shining through the window. You blinked, your vision blurry and skewed, “Is it the baby?”

“No, no. He stirred a while ago, but I had him taken to the wet nurse, so he is fine.” Hal insisted in a hushed tone.

“Oh, well if he is alright, why did you wake me, my King?” you weren’t angry, you sat up in the bed, petting your handsome man on the head.

“Well, I was wondering if I could…” he spoke, but his tired eyes wandered down to your chest.

Hal had a wet nurse hired to feed Quentin. Your doctor said your condition after giving birth was too fragile to nurse him, and it was not customary for a royal woman to feed her own baby. But, your milk was in full supply because of the King.

It was your own little secret, just for the two of you. Late at night, he would free one of your breasts, or both, and place his warm lips around your nipple to drink some milk.

“Yes, go on, my love.” you answered, letting him nestle onto your lap, holding onto your breast after he bared it from your night dress.

Oh how it turned you on, the most powerful man in the country; tall, strong, and wise King Henry V submitting to you in the evening light to suckle your tits, kneading your breast hoping for more sweet nectar. It was satisfying to see him so subdued, so surrendered, his eyes glazing over as he got drunk on you.

You thought of stroking his big, royal cock, but maybe that would be too much for now. Maybe you could work up to it.

@gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @musicandbooksaremyhappyplace @softhecreator @tchalamss @lixzey @bitchyunknownuser @ducktapebar @aoi-targaryen @yukideadinside @elloise0 @thatoneweirdgirl17 @mel-vaz @sammy-halpert @iwishchalamet @that-one-fangirl69 @jindongdongie @briefkittenearthquake @imnotoverlyobsessive

[yourgentlegirlfriend]

The space between

Chapter two: “Kook Life”

ALL RIGHTS TO NETFLIX AND OUTERBANKS

Warnings!: Mentions of violence and fighting! Water boarding and gun violence in this chapter! Please read at your own caution!

I’m thinking of making a taglist! Please comment if you’d like to be on it!

Wattpad:yourgentlegirlfriend

The hurricane hit hard. Nothing that Eves family had ever experienced before, a storm they would not have been able to weather if it wasn’t for Ward Cameron.

Eve felt guilty, a weird feeling constantly stirring in her stomach about the man. Mainly because her father always was willing to talk about work, his work is his pride, his joy, he always is talking about something he’s working on. But since they moved here, he’s been silent, constantly out and around town. Its odd considering he doesn’t even make time for his family anymore.

When the hurricane hit though he was forced to, the front door creaked open, echoing through the whole house.

Eve stood up, fanning herself as she hurried out her bedroom door to see her dad put down a bag of groceries, her hands shoved in her pockets as she walked to the counter and pulled herself up onto it.

“So… How long did they say the power was going to be cut?”

Carlos sighed, shoving all the bread and canned foods into the cabinet- not a good sign.

“They said they have no clue. I went to look at the price of a generator, wondering if I could pull out a loan for one but they are over twenty thousand dollars.”

One thing Eve hated was seeing her dad stressed, she frowned, her legs swinging slightly as she rubbed the back of her neck.

“Why don’t you ask Ward?”

Just as she thought, her dad shot her a dirty look, shaking his head.

“We don’t do handouts in this family, Evelyn and you know that.”

Eve looked down at her legs, putting her hands up in defense at the sound of her full name.

“Alright, alright I’m sorry.”

Carlos walked away down the hall, Eve flinching as the garage door slammed. She hated that she couldn’t help, getting a job in the area was almost impossible. Thankfully they’d been here a month now so it wasn’t as horrible as the first week.

Sarah had invited her over to her house, telling her she could shower and stay at hers till some party at the beach. She claimed it was a tradition.

Finally understanding what Kooks and Pogues meant, she hated it. She knew that economical standpoints were definitely noticeable but to separate them completely? Sarah didn’t agree either thankfully or she wouldn’t even associate with her.

The only reason she hangs around Topper and all of them was for Sarah. Sarah was truthfully the first real friend she’s ever had, she understood her in a way nobody ever has.

Having a dad who is so business oriented and two siblings, absent mother type of thing, Sarah was always her shoulder to cry on. Even though it had only been a month the two were super close.

Eve dug through her drawers, holding her bag in one hand as she shoved some shorts and a bathing suit top, into it followed by a pair of pajama pants and a random shirt.

“Where are you going?”

Eves mom, Jessica asked. Holding a basket of clean water she had saved before the hurricane.

“Dad already said I can go. I’m going to hang out with Sarah.”

Jessica wanted to snap back but knew if Carlos heard she would’ve gotten an ear full. Eve zipped up her backpack as she watched her mom walk away, a sigh of relief leaving her as she slipped the backpack on and hurried out the front door.

Carlos said no using the truck so they could save gas till everything was normal again, so the walk to Sarah’s was pretty far. Her hands gripped at the straps of her backpack as she walked up the dirt road, humming a soft tune.

The walk took her much longer than it should’ve, finally making it to the Cameron’s house, Eve scratched her head as she pushed open the front door. Their lights were on, what, they had a generator?

For once she used the term Kooks in her head. She jogged up the steps and down the long winding hallway and to Sarah’s room, seeing the note on her bed that said she went out for errands and that the phone didn’t work so she couldn’t call to tell her, but to go sit on the boat till she gets back.

Eve sighed and looked out Sarah’s window to see the long dock to the boat. She tugged her shirt off and put her bathing suit top on before she walked back down the steps, almost falling as Rafe met halfway at the staircase.

“Woah slow your roll, going down way too fast.”

Rafe. Great. The last the two had spoken was at the party the night of the dinner, and it ended in her arguing with him on the porch, and thankfully Topper and Sarah stepped in to stop it or she was confident she would’ve beat his ass.

“Nice to see you Rafe.”

“You mooching off us? Because Sarah’s not home..”

Eve rolled her eyes and went to push past him, Rafe stepped sideways, his arm brushing against the railing of the stairs as he blocked her path.

“You didn’t answer my question,” he said, his tone laced with sarcasm. “Or are you too busy pretending you don’t hate it here?”

Eve froze, feeling her patience wearing thin. She took a step back, crossing her arms.

“I’m not pretending anything. And if I wanted to mooch, I’d ask Ward for a generator like the rest of this town probably does.”

The smirk faded from Rafe’s face, replaced by something colder and sharper. “Careful, California. You’re out of your element.”

Eve tilted her head, the mocking nickname grating on her nerves. “You think I care? Sarah invited me. So, if you’ve got a problem, take it up with her.”

Rafe chuckled, low and humorless, leaning in slightly as he spoke. “You know, it’s cute how you think Sarah’s on your side. You’re just a fun little project for her. She’ll get bored eventually.”

That struck a nerve. Eve’s fists clenched at her sides, but instead of giving him the reaction he wanted, she forced herself to laugh, her hand tapping at his shoulder as she nodded her head.

“Thanks for your insight Rafe.”

Eve smiled at him, her nose scrunching slightly as she hurried down the steps, walking out the back door, she hadn’t been on a boat for years

Stepping into the boat, Eve let out an audible sigh of relief as the cool air conditioning hit her heated skin. The sensation didn’t last long though, her eyes landed on someone standing in the middle of the cabin, a boy? or maybe a man? Frozen mid-action with scuba gear in his hands.

They locked eyes, and for a moment, neither of them spoke.

“Uh, hey”

He spoke, finally breaking the silence.

“Hi?”

Eve replied her confusion was obvious as her gaze flicked from his face to the scuba gear he clutched awkwardly.

He hesitated before quickly setting the gear down and extending a hand.

“I’m John B. I work for Ward. I, uh, clean the boat.”

The silence that followed was more than uncomfortable, and Eve shifted on her feet before he thankfully spoke again.

“You new around here? I don’t think I’ve seen you before.”

“Yes.”

The girl said with a small shrug as she sank down into the couch, letting the cool air hit her overly flushed skin.

“Guess I don’t exactly blend in.”

John B chuckled, a genuine, easy laugh that made her crack a small smile. He pulled the scuba tanks over his shoulder, nodding toward her.

“I’ve gotta fill these up for Ward, but it was nice meeting you, Eve.”

“You too,”

She replied, trying not to sound like she was extremely suspicious watching him as he headed out the door.

The longer she sat in the AC, the more she felt herself drifting into sleep, her legs draping over the couch arm as her eyes fluttered closed.

“Sorry, God downtown is packed.”

Sarah’s voice made Eve shoot back up, rubbing her eyes as she looked over to see Sarah slipping her sandals off and walking into the cabin of the boat.

The silence lingered as she thought about her altercation with Rafe, her encounter with John B. Her tongue poked at her cheek as she stared out the window as the boat moved with the very soft waves.

“Does he ever let up?”

Eve asked, breaking the longing silence.

“Who? Rafe?”

Sarah asked as she looked out one of the small windows of the boat, seeing Rafe on the porch.

“No. It’s his full time job to be a pain in the ass to every single person in his life.”

Sarah said laughing as she sat down next to Eve, her legs crossing over hers as she looked over at her.

“But I’m sure you’ve noticed that already?”

“Noticed is the light way to put it, more like I’ve endured it already.”

The two laughed for a bit, but suddenly Sarah stared off into the distance and frowned a bit, her head slumping down into her shoulder.

“He wasn’t always a dick. He’s just always angry at everyone, probably mainly at himself.”

Sarah sighed as she looked over at Eve again.

“I get it. My older brother is the same way. It.. lays in the parents- I'm not saying Ward is a bad dad but.. when these things aren’t talked about, it builds up..”

Sarah just nodded, listening to the water splash against the sides of the boat.

“Do you ever feel like you don’t belong here?”

Eve asked, staring up at the ceiling of the cabin, her hands folded on her chest.

“All the time. That’s why I hang out with you, it’s less complicated.”

——————————————————————

The night fell quickly, Eve and Sarah laughing loudly, echoing through the house as Sarah smudged lipgloss on the girl. Eve had somehow been convinced by Sarah to get her makeup done, she did love makeup but it’s expensive to keep up with.

Sarah turned her around in the chair. Eve blinked at herself in the mirror, smiling. It wasn’t a huge noticeable change.

“It’s just some mascara, lipgloss and blush, bringing out your natural beauty of course.”

Eve nodded as Sarah styled her hair for her. Watching as she grabbed her bag ready to leave, She peaked out the window at the sound of a horn, secretly rolling her eyes as she saw Topper showed up to pick the two up.

She would lie to say she was not excited though, she hadn’t built the courage to go down to the beach alone. So she was thankful Sarah was going to be there.

When they arrived, the glow of a bonfire flickered against the sky, laughter and the hum of conversation filling the air. Socializing wasn’t exactly her strong suit, so Eve sat back, finding an empty log near the edge of the group. From her spot, she watched Sarah and Topper mess around, their relationship being a small comfort from the large group of people in front of her.

As her gaze finally left the two, it landed on a group not too far from her. And of course, there was a familiar face—the boy from the boat. John B?

Eve frowned as she watched the night unfold. Sarah and Topper made their way over to the group, and a blonde boy said something that she couldn’t quite hear. The tension was immediate, the lighthearted mood shifting in an instant.

Eve stood, crossing her arms as she slowly moved closer, trying to make any sense of the situation. Her breath caught when she saw Topper shove John B, the confrontation escalating before anyone could stop it.

“Dirty Pogues!”

Topper yelled, his voice dripping with venom.

Eve’s eyes darted between them, her stomach dropping as John B fought back, shoving Topper back. Within seconds, fists were flying, the fight spiraling out of control as Sarah screamed for them to stop.

Her heart raced as she stood still unable to move, her hands gripping her hair in frustration? Fear?. Topper tackled John B, slamming him into the shallow water with a force that made Eve flinch as she watched. Before she could process what was happening, Topper had John B pinned, his hands shoving his head under the water repeatedly

“Sarah! Get your fucking boyfriend!”

Eve shouted, her voice cracking as panic clawed at her chest, tears springing quickly to her eyes.

She bolted forward, desperate to stop Topper from making it even worse, but strong hands grabbed her upper arms, yanking her back just as quickly as she ran forward. She twisted against the grip, her eyes locked on the scene in front of her.

“He’s drowning him!”

She screamed, her voice drowned out by the chaos, watching John B’s friends panic and Sarah crying.

Everyone gasped and fell silent as the Blonde one ran up to the two, holding a gun to Toppers head. She turned her head to see it was Rafe holding her back, her hands flying to her ears as bullets were fired into the air, as the group argued Rafe dragged her from the beach.

As Rafe pulled Eve away from the chaos, she twisted in his grip, panic flashing across her face.

"Let me go!" she yelled, trying to break free, but his hold was firm.

"Stop squirming," Rafe snapped, his tone sharp but not yelling. "You're not getting involved in pogue mess, trust me Im doing you a favor.”

She stumbled slightly as he tugged her farther from the fire and the sound of raised voices. Her heart pounded in her chest, and she barely felt the crunch of sand beneath her feet as Rafe basically dragged her up a small path leading away from the beach.

Eve wrenched her arm free the moment his grip loosened. "What the hell is wrong with you? He was drowning him, Rafe! You’re just gonna let that happen? That’s YOUR friend!”

"Don’t act like you understand how things work here," Rafe shot back, his voice loud, bouncing off the trees surrounding them. "You don’t get it, Eve. You’re not from here. You don’t know what you just walked into."

"Then tell me, Rafe!" she snapped, frustration spilling over. "Explain it to me, because all I see is a bunch of idiots acting like some stupid town rivalry is more important than their lives!”

He let out a sharp breath, running a hand over his face as if trying to keep himself in check. "Look, I didn’t want you caught up in this. That’s why I pulled you out, okay? You should be thanking me like I said."

"Thanking you?" she echoed in disbelief, shaking her head. "You and your friends are fucking insane.”

Rafe stepped closer, closing the distance between them.

"And you’re way in over your head if you think you can just stand there and play referee. Stick to Sarah, Eve. Stay out of this."

She stared up at him, her defiance faltering for a moment under the weight of his gaze. There was something in his tone an unspoken warning, maybe even concern? That made her hesitate.

“Maybe you should get your priorities straight and check on your sister.”

Eve spat as she roughly nudged past him, her heart pounding out of her chest as she walked up the trail and onto the main road. She didn’t care if she didn’t have a ride home, her eyes fixated on the red and blue lights flashing from the opposite direction. This wasn’t her situation, this wasn’t her life, or her stupid rivalry. All she wanted was to be away from the Cameron’s.

[monkey-overalls]

Project: Eden’s Garden Deadly Life/Trial Thoughts

Feeling a bit more incoherent now than I did before for… obvious reasons, so these are gonna be bullet points instead of full paragraphs:

Kai’s “OOOHHH SHIT” voice line cracks me up every time I hear it, the delivery is hilarious.

Also the “GAME OVER MAN, GAME OVER”—I see you Aliens reference, don’t think I didn’t catch that 👀

Wolfgang’s enraged sprites were phenomenal. The emotion captured in them had me on the edge of my seat.

I still don’t trust him though. They keep hammering in how great of a person he was but I dooon’t trust it not ooone bit!!!

WOLFGANG’S VOICE ACTOR NAILED IT OH MY GOSH ‼️‼️

The performance may have been much less intense than many of the other characters, but I want to shout out Eloise’s VA as well. Her voice is so soft and sweet, but she can also sound authoritative when she wants to be (i.e., questioning Grace). Anytime she speaks I’m like 🥰

Diana lowkey sounds like Kaede. Am I the only one who thinks she sounds like Kaede???

The fact that they made Ulysses say “Um ackshually ☝️🤓” gave me irreversible whiplash.

I can’t attest to the playability of the Argument Altercation (I watched it, not played it) but it was visually and conceptually stunning. Eva may be having a complete mental breakdown, but the art makes her look super cool doing it lmao

Diana I am so sorry for thinking you were sus, you deserve so much better… your speech was a little goofy though ngl

I say this while also still shipping her and Eva… whoops, got blinded by the toxic yuri beams sorrynotsorry-

Now for the elephant in the room… Eva they could never make me hate you. NEVER. I don’t care that you chewed Damon out or framed Diana for murder, you’re still my favorite girl and this game will have to pry my imaginary Eva Tsunaka marketable plushie from my cold, dead hands!!!

Obviously her VA also slayed. I love how quiet and raspy her voice normally is, and how that juxtaposes with her absolutely losing her shit towards the end of the trial.

That execution, man. At first I was like “A fire pit? That’s it? Seems like a pretty instant death to me” and then they brought out the glass and the nails and I was SILENT. The ghost of Kirumi Tojo was cheering you on the entire way, Eva.

The animation had no right being that smooth??? Tozu was right, this probably did take up most of the budget.

Everyone’s crying sprites make me want to commit Sakura Protein Shake 😭

INGRID’S AFFIRMATIONS DIDN’T HELP, THEY JUST MADE ME CRY HARDER 😭😭😭

[klitzy-please]

Missing, But Not In Action

Leon Kennedy x Choir teacher! Reader

SFW; fluff: angst; not thoroughly proof read

Author’s Note: Haiii! Klitzy here! I’m so sorry if this seems a bit chopped, I’ve been busy and only had certain times to work on it! I hope y’all enjoy, and please put what y’all’s thoughts (and prayers) in the comments if comfortable enough to do so!

You pace back and forth, just waiting. You keep calling the DSO, but they keep telling you the same thing. ‘We have this under control, Y/N.’

You don’t believe them, you can’t believe them. If they had this under control, he’d be in your arms, kissing your face off before work, he’d be there helping you with breakfast as you brushed your hair and teeth. He’d just be there.

You tried calling his cell, but you still got that same result.

‘Hey, it's Leon, leave a message.’

Oh, how you hate his job.

You checked the clock, reading 6:30. Shit. If you stayed in that living room, you’d be even more late for work if you mopped in your living room any longer. You grab your bag and hurriedly rush out to your car, keys jingling as you trot hurriedly.

Getting into the metal box, you start the ignition and speed out of that driveway. You and Leon were lucky enough to find this cute little Victorian era house that had about an acre of land around it that served as your yard. The two of you wanted children, hell, you wanted to put. Anything in that yard. He even got you a puppy on your first anniversary of dating. The house was close enough to your job and it was basically out of your dreams. Your whole life was almost actually. Beautiful house, a hot and loving husband, a job you can’t get enough of, everything was perfect, other than what your husband does. for work.

You couldn’t help but think about what he was doing, you knew that if Leon got enough booze in him, he’d drunkenly cry about it to you, but right now, he wasn’t home. He wasn’t in your arms and he wasn’t drunk off of the new bottle of Jamison’s you bought initially for yourself.

Your train of thought was fought off by your phone ringing. It was hunnigan.

You pick up the phone hesitantly. “H-hunnigan..? Why are you calling me? Did something happen?” Your breath hitched in fear and anticipation.

You could hear her sigh “We found him… or at least a sign of him. I could be wrong, but it seems that we should be able to get connected to him soon.” Hunnigan swallowed hard. She was also a bit uneasy about this, but for different reasons.

“Well I don’t know if that’s a good thing… he should’ve been home by now.” Your eyes dart around as you park your car in the “teacher of the year’ spot. “Wait.. how do you know it's actually him?”

“Well, we don’t truly know. But what we do know is that it's in the area that he was sent to…” Hunnigan swallowed hard. “Look, I’m not supposed to say anything, but it’s Leon we are talking about. The mission was a domestic one. Ergo, he’s still in the states… We might be able to get something out of that…”

“You’re actually serious, right? Please tell me you are.” Your lips start to bleed from all of the nervous biting you’ve been doing.

“Yes, I am… I’ll get back to you once I have more information…” Hunnigan clears her throat. “How did you know it was me calling?”

You relax a bit. “I’ve been calling the DSO so much, they just gave me your personal number… I could ask you the same actually.”

Hunnigan chuckled. “Well, I looked through Leon’s emergency files… you were listed as the spouse there. Also, I’m not going to ask why they gave you my personal…”

“Noted… hey, I’ll get back to you later. Please tell me what all you can. I really can’t spend another night not knowing if he’s safe or not.” You tried to stable yourself and swallowed your tears to your best abilities.

The two of you bid your farewells and then hang up. Now, all you have to do is go clock in, check your mailbox, answer emails and get all of your music sheets organized for the 6 periods you teach in a day.

You sit down in your empty classroom in silence. You don’t even want to check your emails, your eyes dart to the pictures of Leon that sat on your desk that was encased in a cute metal frame. It was one of the first dates you ever had with him. You were looking for some vinyls to add to your collection and funny enough, Leon was in that same exact music store looking for some cds for his new (and soon to be totaled) car.

You can’t help but gain a bitter-sweet smile on your face.

Before you knew it, the bell had rung. It was homeroom day… yay.

The bell rang long and a group of kids started to pile in just as always. You sat down at the piano like you’ve done the past a decade you’ve been teaching here.

A tall, blonde kid walks into the class, eyeing you. He’s a junior if you are correct. He’s in your 6th period.

“Mrs. Kennedy?” The kid asks you.

Your mouth opens and then closes. “Uhm.. What's up ,sport?” You ask awkwardly.

He gives you a look before handing you a piece of paper. It’s a permission slip. You nod your head at him and he takes a seat in his respective spot. you can’t help but look at it, to be fair you forgot the kid’s name. It was something that sounded familiar enough.

You read the paper to see the kid’s name. Leo Kents.

L.K..

—————————————————————————————————————

‘L—Le—Leon-n-n!’ Leon’s comm rang as he tried to go somewhere with service. There was an outbreak in rural appalachia. Close enough for him to get home in 3 hours or sped fast enough. He grabbed the thing and proceeded to bang it on his thigh.

“Hunnigan?!” Leon yelps.

“Oh thank g——————safe.” Hunnigan beeped through.

Leon’s brows furrowed. “What? I… I can’t understand what you are saying…. Ah hell, the job’s done… I’m going home.” Leon put the device in his pocket after turning it off, he needed to get a car…

—————————————————————————————————————

It was about 12 in the afternoon and your lunch would be finished in about half an hour. All you could do was stare at your phone. You knew that they’d find him. Hunnigan promised! Right? I mean she told you that they found a sign, so the possibilities are endless.

You sighed exasperatedly as someone knocked on your door. You looked up to see a head pooping up to look through your window. As you stood to see who it was, a second head of hair popped in the window also, at that point, all you could do was chicken to yourself.

“What is it? Shouldn’t you be at lunch or something?” You lean against the door frame looking at the girls expectantly.

The girl first spoke. “We came to tell you our song choices for S/E. You told us that you’d get back to us by December, and here we are.”

Your eyebrows raised as you nodded your head. “I did say that, didn’t I? So, why is it that y'all came to me instead of vice versa?” The two girls blushed at the question which was more of a statement than anything.

“Well, we wanted to go over the ideas. We have many but we mainly have two to show you.” You boy finally piped up. The girl gave you a nod, agreeing.

You sigh and move out of the way so they could come in until it was time for their next class or however long it took them to go over the songs with you.

You start to read the music sheets that they provided you, all you could do was look at them in shock.

“Seriously? I understand ‘As the snow begins to fall”, but ‘When I am laid in earth’?’ You blinked at them in surprise.

The boy chuckled, almost like he knew you’d say that. It was a very odd mix of two songs with two very different voice ranges.

You sighed and shook your head. “If that’s what makes you happy.”

You put down the sheets into your fabric covered lap. All you could do was give these kids a weak smile. At this point, you just wanted them out of your room. You didn’t have to deal with these two and their jokes for another two periods and all you wanted was just a break.

The pair looked at you with looks of triumph and satisfaction. They finally bid their adues and went out of your classroom.

The second they walked out, You ran to your cell to check for any more calls. None.

You bit your bottom lip hard. When in the hell would she call you back?

—————————————————————————————————————

“Baby cakes?!” Leon practically screeched as he ran into the house. Stupidly, he came from the back door. Somehow, he found a ride that’d take him to the gas station closest to your place.

He rummaged through each and every room he could, looking for you. All he could do was yell and scream out your name. He needed to find the love of his life. His world.

The only thing that stopped him was the sound of Hunnigan tapping back in.

“Hunnigan?” Leon barked.

“Leon?! Where are you?! Did the assignment go through well?” Hunnigan shot questions at him quicker than an auctioneer could even talk. This, of course, made the infamous agent chuckle.

“I’m back home… I was looking for Y/N. And yes, it was completed. Once I get to my wife, I’ll be in shortly to put in the documents… though I think back up could easily finish that.”

Hunnigan gave him a glaring look through the screen. “Well they are only there for clean up. You, on the other hand, are the person who was sent in to get the information needed and take out whoever was wanted. But I’m sure your wife and the safety of the country must come first. I bet our boss would just love that!” She quipped, making Leon sour.

“Well, I bet she’s pulling her hair out of her head at the moment… It’s only for a few minutes, she at least deserves that much. And besides, she doesn’t answer her phone at work often.” Leon tried to reason.

Hunnigan leaned back into her chair, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Well one of those few times must’ve been today. I talked to her.”

Leon’s eyes widened. “Are you serious?! Is she okay?”

“Leon… She’s more worried than anything. You haven’t been home. I think she’s a bit desperate.” Hunnigan chuckled. “Hell, she is desperate. She got whoever to give her my personal cell!”

Leon laughed at the mention of your sudden desperation.

“Look, I’ll just put in that you are en route to the main office.” Hunnigan started clicking away at her keyboard.

Leon smiled, relieved that he could at least do this. It was almost rewarding.

—————————————————————————————————————

You reread the score in front of you, making sure to play it just right this time. The students sat there quietly, some murmuring about the sudden and rare fatigue, others, zoned out, reading over their own sheets of music.

Your eyes closed as you sighed out of your nose. ‘You got this’, you told yourself.

your fingers played around on the keys, re-warming them up. You hit the starting notes, the time signature being pentatonic and a 3/2. Suddenly, the rhythm came to an abrupt stop. The students looked up at you as you waited for their expected gazes.

“Open to the beginning of the song, but go to the last measure.” You chirped as you brushed the bangs of your hair to the side, studying the way your hands rest on the piano. As if you were programmed, your fingers fell onto the keys, playing the melody of the music.

Your playing almost took you away from reality, from the aching pain of a very long period of not seeing your husband, from the aching pain that your life just loves to inflict. The sound of the piano brought you to a bit of peace as you ended at a different measure. You look at the children, who were closing their folders and putting them up. All you could do was give them a small smile. It was just about the end of the period.

You stayed. Silent as you watched them get up to the sound of the bell as if they were robots, moving to commands. You silently waved goodbye as they curtly walked out, one-by-one.

The second the last kid walked out, your face dropped. You turned back around, you sighed as your head fell into your hands. No call from hunnigan, no Leon, nothing.

“Why did I get myself into..?” You silently mumbled.

You shot up as you looked at the ceiling. You sniffed, holding back your tears. You had students coming in at any minute. You couldn’t just let them see you like this, they didn’t need to see you fret.

You sat there on the bench, basking in the loneliness that you didn’t know would be interrupted sooner than you were hoping for.

There was a knock on the wooden door frame, making you jump.

You quickly scrambled to your feet, flattening out your skirt and fixing your sweater. You twirled around with a hopefully convincing smile plastered on your face.

You opened your mouth, trying to cover up what you were just doing, as though it would paint you a good excuse. Let’s just hope they weren’t there for long.

“Hey! How can I-” your smile faltered as you stared at the taller, tired being in front of you. “Oh my god…”

Suddenly, your eyes filled with tears, threatening to ruin your perfect makeup.

Leon smiled as he hoisted himself off of the frame, making his way towards you.

“My sweet girl, oh how I’ve missed your ass!” He opened up his arms, just as he always did.

You sauntered towards him, grabbing him and pulling him into a tight embrace.

“I… I thought you were dead? You left me!” You choked on your sobs out of relief, anger, and sorrow.

Leon felt his heart cave. He really did make you worry your head off, he really did put you through that.

He chuckled out of relief. “Well I’m here now, ain’t I? It’s okay, I’m here, I’m safe. We both are together.”

You know that he was right, but the feeling of him not being there lingered. You prayed that it was real, that he was actually holding you and not just some dream.

But this was no dream, he was actually here in your arms. Now, you could go back to your usual routine of drinking coffee on the back porch and watching old westerns as you ate breakfast on the weekends. Just for this little bit, your life would be normal. You knew to hold onto this little bit. Because soon enough, your Scottie would be gone again.

[lie-lacdreams]

Thermodynamics and Turmoil (Curly x Reader pt. 5)

I'm back!! Sorry for such a long and unexpected hiatus. A lot of things were going on and on top of that I've come to realize some things about my writing that made me feel unsatisfied about my quality of work. I'll try to improve with this series while trying to keep style and flow consistent but I now recognize that the plot moves at a very fast pace.

Last

Engineer! Reader x Curly Word Count ~ 2.5k TW: mentions of sexual assault, pregnancy, and abortion, angst, profanity

The whole crew seemed busy as of late. (Y/N) and Curly were no exception to this as well, but given the dwindling number of shared meals with all of the crew and the scarcity of which they saw each other, it was definitely easier to see Curly after hours and spend some time  in his embrace before heading back to her room without suspicion. They agreed to keep their arrangement a secret from the rest of the crew, just for the sake of professionalism in front of the others and as to not serve as a distraction from their mission 

It was going so well, (Y/N) thought to herself. Each day was a constant challenge to her capabilities and knowledge of her degree, but if it meant that she could end the night in his arms, under his gentle touch and loving gaze, then there really was nothing that could go wrong. To her relief, after the encounter with Jimmy that one night, he never approached her again to talk to her about whatever it was that he so needed to tell her. Things went as usual, and her presence around him was scarce. However, seeing and interacting with Anya was a rare occasion as well. (Y/N) found herself returning to their room first nowadays, and when Anya was in the room, her back was turned to her, but the shuffling from her side of the room was a clear indicator that she had not been sleeping. 

(Y/N) was concerned for her friend, but there was never a good opportunity to check in on her, that is, until Anya found her one day to ask if she was free for her regular psych eval. Jumping on the opportunity right away, she braced herself to enter the medical bay, ready to make sure things were alright. 

This was the first time she fully made eye contact with Anya in a while, and something inside her sank as she took in her appearance. Her typically glossy black hair was oily and matte and dark circles stained her eyes, giving her gaze a hollowed effect. Making sure the med bay door was fully shut, she took a seat across the desk from her before speaking out, beating her to it. 

“Anya, I haven’t gotten to talk to you in a while. You’ve been so quiet all of this week and I’m worried. What’s going on?” 

With a pause, Anya let out a small, soulless chuckle. “I was supposed to start your evaluations and the first thing you do before we start is check on my wellbeing.”

“Well, of course. I mean you’re responsible for all of ours, but who checks up on you? I’m worried about you, not as your crewmate but as your friend, as the only other woman here on this ship. I need to make sure you’re okay.” (Y/N) leaned into the desk a little bit, placing a hand over Anya’s. 

She noticed as Anya’s lower lip started to quiver and her nose and mouth started to scrunch together. “I don’t feel like I have control over anything anymore, (Y/N).” A tear slipped out of her eye as she swallowed hard. 

Both hands were squeezing the crying woman’s now in a desperate attempt to share the burden. “What do you mean? Do you feel stuck being here? Do you miss Earth?”

“No, that’s not it.” Anya couldn’t bear to look at her anymore. Her head bent down in shame as she choked on the words coming out of her mouth. As (Y/N) listened, she felt herself drift further and further away from the sensation of her own body, unaware of the tears that began falling down her face as well. 

“When did this happen?” She cried. She immediately thought about the one night she did not spend in their shared room, going instead to the cockpit to bring the captain a cup of coffee and company, falling asleep and waking up in his arms. Guilt and horror ricocheted her back into the sensation of her own body as she started trembling. “N-No, don’t tell me it was that night. He came into our room, didn’t he? When I wasn’t there?” Anya nodded, crying a little harder now. “Oh, Anya, I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry I wasn’t there.” She sobbed. 

“At first, I was mad that you weren’t there. The hypotheticals after it happened were constantly playing in my head. If only you were there, maybe he wouldn’t have felt encouraged to come in. Maybe if I didn’t start a conversation with him that night before going to bed, he wouldn’t have thought to do such a thing. Maybe if I didn’t just wear a t-shirt instead of our typical long sleeved uniforms, he wouldn’t have felt tempted.”

“No, honey, no. None of these things encouraged him to do what he did. You are here to do your job and you do amazing at it. Nothing you did should have ‘tempted’ him to do what he did. He made that choice entirely on his own.” Along with the sadness and guilt (Y/N) felt for her friend, a new emotion arose – anger. She remembered that night, how Jimmy looked at her and tried to approach her. What he wanted was now so clear to her, and it made her so guilty to realise how narrowly she escaped and diverted the fate to Anya. She cautiously made her way around the desk, sinking to her knees in front of Anya now, who was still sitting in her chair but moved to face her. With cautious hands, she shakily wrapped her arms around her, which Anya slowly accepted, and the both of them cried as they held each other, mourning the situation now for what it was – a loss of autonomy and control, a direct violation of reducing her to something less than human, knowing later on would be a time for figuring out what to do next. 

The rest of the day was a blur for (Y/N). The two women agreed to find another time to talk about what to do later since there were still so many tasks to be done before the day ended. She dragged along, her heart beating out of her chest as Jimmy passed her in the hallway without acknowledging her. She tried to keep her breathing steady and quiet. Unable to focus, (Y/N) decided on completing the minimum of her tasks before retreating to her room, deciding to read to clear her head. 

In the evening, a gentle knock came from outside of the door, and she got up to creak open the door slightly. Looking up, she was met with the admiring eyes of the captain, who leaned down to give her a peck on the lips before looking back at her, eyes widening slightly when he finally took in the expression on her face. He brought a hand to her face, brushing his thumb against her cheekbone.

“Have you been crying?” He asked. She turned away, unsure of how to answer him. “(Y/N),” he began. “What’s wrong? Talk to me, please.”

She held back the tears threatening to spill, unsure if she should lean into him for comfort or stay at a distance after spending the entire day drenched in guilt. “I-It’s not my place to say. I swear I’m fine. I just need a little time to think, okay?” She dismissed him and he shot her a worried look, rubbing his hands up and down her back, clearly concerned over the state she was in. After getting the clear signal that she wanted time alone, Curly pressed a kiss on her temple before bidding her goodnight and leaving the room. 

Not long after, Anya slipped into the room, in the same state (Y/N) found her in earlier. Sitting down together, they began to talk.

“We can’t let him roam around and get away with this, Anya. He has to take responsibility for what he did to you. If we don’t do anything, there’s no telling if he will try something again.” (Y/N) persisted.

“I know, you’re right,” Anya sighed. “But I don’t want so much attention drawn to this. Sure, there’s only the six of us on this ship, but once we get corporate involved, things can get so much more complicated.”

The other woman stared down at her hands, picking at her nails anxiously. “How many weeks in did you say you thought you were again?”

“From my last period, it’s been a month and a half. I took a pregnancy test about two weeks ago that came up positive.”

(Y/N) did some mental maths. “By the time we get back from this trip, you’ll be into your third trimester and showing. It will definitely raise some questions by the time we get back. And it would be too late to terminate the pregnancy at that point. I’m assuming we don’t have the equipment to do that safely on board, right?” Anya shook her head. “Okay, then I still believe that holding Jimmy accountable for what he’s done is the best solution moving forward. I know it’ll be hard to want to speak up and make him pay, but it's the right thing to do, and you’ll always have my support. We need to tell the captain.”

Anya sighed and stared into her lap. “That’s the thing. I already did.” Shock flooded (Y/N)’s system and she felt momentarily paralyzed by this revelation. 

“Wh-What? And did he say anything?” she asked.

Slowly, a tear ran down Anya’s face once again. “He told me he would talk to him, but I don’t think he has yet. I told him a week or two after it happened. He doesn’t know that I’m pregnant yet but he didn’t want to believe that his friend could do such a thing. I tried to tell him but he sort of just shot it down.”

Anger rose in (Y/N)’s body like hot, pressurised steam. “So he chose his friendship over the safety of his team.”

Anya put a hand on her arm in an effort to get her attention. “I don’t blame him, I’m sure he’s disappointed that his friend would do such a thing, so denial of it would make sense.”

(Y/N) shook her head. “That doesn’t excuse the way he chose to dismiss you. Please, Anya. Let me talk to him and try to reason about this. You need to get your rest. I promise I’ll be back to the room soon – I believe him and Jimmy are still in the cockpit anyway. You’re safe in here now.”

For the first time in a while, she saw Anya's shoulder droop, feeling defeated and fatigued. How many days has it been since she didn’t have to worry about her safety on this cramped ship? Finally, she had gained an ally in her corner. 

(Y/N) slipped out of the room, a bitter knot forming in her throat as she felt herself shaking – whether it was from disappointment or rage, she couldn’t tell. These past few weeks have been perfect. She had found someone who she looked up to and admired, someone who understood her needs and could be there for her when she needed him. Now, after hearing what he had done, the man who she thought was perfect had fallen from the high place she put him. 

Her fist shook as she knocked on the cockpit door, her heart beating so rapidly she could hear the sound of blood pumping through her ears. With a soft noise of acknowledgement on the other side, she cracked open the door to see the captain and co-pilot turn around to look at her. 

“Can I have a word with you, Captain?” She asked shakily. He nodded and got out of his seat, making sure that Jimmy was capable of taking over while he was gone. (Y/N) turned around to walk out, not looking behind to check and see if Curly was following her. She walked at a brisk pace, trying to avoid walking alongside him and stopped once she stepped into the utility room, arms wrapped around herself. She couldn’t bring herself to look him in the eye. He grew increasingly worried as he followed after her, calling her name several times to no avail. When she stopped to turn around to face him, he held her arms, looking down at her.

“(Y/N), what’s going on? I’ve been so worried about you today.”  He tried to console her to the best of his ability, but she stepped out of his hold. 

“Anya came to you when she needed your help,” her voice quivered. “Why didn’t you listen to her? Why didn’t you take her seriously when she needed someone to make sure that she was safe?” 

His expression sank immediately. “I-I– fuck, I was going to talk to him about it but there was never a good time. Jimmy is trying his best, okay? This was just a big mistake that he made.”

“A mistake? This “mistake” has haunted Anya with the realisation that there is no corner of this ship that is safe for her anymore!” Tears of rage started welling up again. “What Jimmy did to her left her to deal with the consequences of his actions and when we get back from our trip, the world is going to make her pay for it.” she choked. 

“What?” he was confused. 

“Captain,” (Y/N) began. “He got her pregnant. By the time we get back from this trip, she’ll almost be ready to deliver.” 

A mixed look of shock and dread spread on his face. “W-We can fix this. I’ll make sure to talk to Anya about how she wants to go about it and we can come up with a plan to talk to him together.”

“You’re the one in charge here. The safety of your crew is your responsibility. Anya deserves an apology and greater respect from you to listen to her and take her seriously.” She sounded bitter. “I had so much respect for you as your subordinate and I was beginning to think that I loved you, but I can’t excuse the way you dealt with this.” (Y/N) started heading for the exit of the room, only to be stopped by Curly’s hand grasping her shoulder. He stared down at her in guilt and desperation.

“Please, give me another chance. There’s still time to make things right. How I dealt with this was entirely wrong. I’ll fix this.” It hurt him to see the way she looked back up at him, frustrated and disappointed. 

“Good. Take responsibility, Captain.” With that, she slipped from his hand and made her way back to her quarters. 

[nopainnowhump]

Cracks in the Glass Pt.5

(TW): forced medication, food control and refusal, power dynamics, manipulation, physical restraint, gaslighting, feeding tubes, and emotional distress.

“Do you want something else? Because if you have a preference, I’m sure I can find something else.”

I look at the tray and then at Thomas through the glass. He’s taking a seat after bringing me a dinner tray. I’m not hungry. Actually, that’s a lie. I’m starving, but I won’t eat. I can’t. How dare he? How dare he come here and act like he didn’t just hold me down and force pills down my throat?

I crawl over to the tray and roughly shove it back through the slot in the door, causing the contents to spill on the floor. Thomas takes a deep breath and sighs, keeping his composure as he moves closer to the glass.

"I know you’re upset, and I’m sorry we had to do that, but I need you to understand that we have your best interests at heart. I know it doesn’t seem like it, and I haven’t done anything to earn your trust, but I’m here to help you."

I scoff. I hate this game. What does he want? I turn my back to him and walk toward the bed. Hunger rolls through my stomach.

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

"I don’t know why you’re getting so upset with us," Kyle sneers, his voice thick with mockery. "You should be upset with yourself for not doing what I told you. Three fucking days, I told you for three days that If you didn't eat you were gonna get tubed."

Strong arms lift me off the floor, and I’m too weak to fight back. The sedative is already dulling my senses, leaving my limbs sluggish and unresponsive. My shirt is soaked with tears and snot as I gasp in shallow, rapid breaths. Even as they drag me down the hall, I feebly try to kick at the floor, my movements pathetic and futile.

Kyle leads the way, his smug grin only making me feel smaller. "I gotta say, you’re my favorite patient," he taunts. "You always make my shift more exciting. A little bit of chaos to break up the monotony."

We pass through the double doors of a sterile bed bay. Without ceremony, the guards shove me into a chair, their hands like vices on my arms. I try to slide off, desperation giving me one last burst of energy, but it’s useless. Thick straps tighten across my arms and legs, pinning me down.

My stomach churns violently, but not from fear. The nausea has been unrelenting for days, a cruel aftermath of the experiments. Every bite of food twists in my gut, forcing me to relive the humiliation of throwing up in front of them, helpless and exposed. The mere thought of eating again makes bile rise in my throat.

I let out a weak yelp as Kyle approaches, a feeding tube in his hand. The sight of it makes my nausea worse, and I instinctively turn my head away.

"Now, now," he says mockingly, his voice dripping with condescension. He grabs my jaw roughly, his fingers digging into my skin like claws. I try to pull away, shaking my head weakly, but he holds firm.

"Stay still and be a good girl," he says, his tone turning dark. "Or maybe I’ll let my friends in security have some fun with you. Actually..." He leans in close, his breath hot and sour against my face, his sick grin spreading wider. "I might let them have you anyway, just for making my job harder."

Tears stream down my face as I glare at him, my body trembling. The nausea rises again, my stomach twisting painfully, but I’m too terrified to move.

The grin disappears from his face, replaced by cold fury. His hand cracks across my cheek with a resounding slap, the force jerking my head to the side.

"AGH!" I cry out, my cheek stinging and burning.

"Don’t. Fucking. Move," he growls, his voice icy and full of venom.

He roughly forces the tube down my hitting the back of my throat forcing me to gag. Bile rises at the throat nausea rolling through me.

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

I hear the faint scrape of something against the floor—the tray. I don’t look up, but the soft clinks and rustles tell me he’s cleaning up the mess I made. He doesn’t speak, doesn’t lecture, just quietly gathers the spilled food. Then his footsteps retreat, the heavy door clicking shut behind him.

Good. Let him leave.

Time drags on, the hunger gnawing at me, sharp and insistent. It’s been days. My stomach twists painfully, but I shove the feeling down, clutching the one shred of control I still have. I won’t eat. I can’t.

The door opens again. I stiffen, curling tighter on the bed. This time, there’s no tray. No demands. Just the faint rustle of fabric as he sits down outside the glass, followed by the rhythmic clatter of keys.

Curiosity pulls at me, and I glance over my shoulder. Thomas is sitting with his back against the wall, legs stretched out, his laptop balanced on his knees. He doesn’t look at me, doesn’t speak. He’s just…there. The silence between us stretches, punctuated only by the soft tapping of his keyboard.

Then I hear it—a sharp, crisp crunch that snaps through the quiet. My head turns automatically, catching sight of him mid-bite. He’s eating something, sliding a thin, golden shape from a crinkly bag and popping it into his mouth. Each crunch is loud, almost exaggerated, as he chews.

I narrow my eyes at the bag. I don’t know what it is, but the thought of food, of eating, tightens something in my chest. Not out of hunger—though the ache in my stomach hasn’t gone away—but because of what it means.

If I don’t eat, they’ll force me.

The memory of being strapped down, Kyle’s cruel grin as he shoved the feeding tube in, flashes behind my eyes. My breath quickens, and I shake my head, trying to banish the image. I can’t go through that again.

Thomas notices me watching. He pauses, holding the bag up slightly, as if offering it to me. "You want one?"

I hesitate, staring at him through the glass. My pride screams at me to ignore him, but the pounding of my heart is louder. If I eat—if I prove I’m capable—they won’t have an excuse to strap me down.

Slowly, I crawl toward the slot in the door, my body tense and uncertain. I don’t trust him, but the alternative looms too large in my mind.

Thomas pulls one of the golden shapes from the bag and slides it through the slot. I stare at it for a moment, suspicious and wary, before finally picking it up. It’s thin and rough against my fingers, unlike anything I’ve eaten before.

I glance at him through the glass. He doesn’t move, doesn’t push. He just watches, his expression unreadable.

I bite down cautiously, the loud crunch surprising me. Then the taste hits—salty, rich, and completely unexpected. My eyes widen involuntarily as I chew. I swallow, and the hollow ache in my stomach shifts slightly, the smallest hint of relief breaking through. But it’s not enough.

I slam my fist against the glass, a sharp bang that reverberates through the room. My eyes lock onto the bag in his hand, my demand clear.

Thomas raises an eyebrow. "You want another?"

I pound the glass again, harder this time. A growl escapes my throat, low and frustrated.

"Okay, okay," he says, sliding another chip through the slot.

I snatch it immediately, shoving it into my mouth without hesitation. I barely finish chewing before I slam my fists against the glass again, harder, more insistent.

"Alright, alright!" Thomas raises his hands in surrender, grabbing another chip and passing it through.

The cycle repeats—chip after chip—my demands growing more aggressive each time. I pound the glass with both fists now, my anger and hunger merging into a single, desperate need.

"Easy," he says softly, sliding another chip through. His voice is calm, steady, but his eyes watch me closely, gauging my every move.

Then the bag finally crinkles empty, I let out a scream of frustration, slamming my fists one last time against the glass. Thomas holds up the empty bag, shaking it lightly.

"That’s all I’ve got," he says, his tone light, almost teasing.

My breathing is ragged, my body trembling from the outburst. Frustration boils over, and I collapse onto the floor, screaming and kicking, my fists pounding against the cold concrete.

He doesn’t react right away, just sits back against the wall, watching me with that same infuriating calm. Then, after a moment, he speaks. "Hey, I’ve got an idea." His voice cuts through my screams, steady but not pushy.

I stop kicking for a moment, glaring at him through tear-streaked eyes.

"How about this," he continues. "When I bring you breakfast tomorrow morning, if you eat a couple of bites, I’ll bring you your own bag of chips at lunch."

I freeze, my chest heaving as I process his words. He could be lying. They’ve lied to me before, after all. But…what if he’s not? My gaze flickers toward the empty bag in his hand. The chips were good. Really good. And if he does lie, I’ll just refuse to eat again.

I sniff, wiping my nose roughly on my sleeve, and glance at him. He meets my eyes, his expression open, almost challenging.

"Deal?" he asks, raising an eyebrow.

I hesitate for a long moment before rolling away from him, turning my back to the glass. "Fine," I mutter, my voice muffled.

I hear the faint snap of his laptop closing, followed by the soft rustle of him standing. "It’s been a pleasure doing business with you," he says, a hint of amusement in his voice.

I don’t respond, but I hear him knock lightly on the glass. "I’ll see you tomorrow. Try to get some sleep, okay?"

The sound of his footsteps fades as he walks away, leaving me alone in the silence. I curl up tighter, still unsure if I’ve made the right choice.

I wipe my face. I am kinda tired. I crawl into bed and pull the covers up. The room is quiet now, and my body feels heavy with exhaustion. As I close my eyes, the faint taste of salt still lingers on my tongue.

Chips: the universal peacemaker. Who knew the crunch could be so persuasive? Stay tuned for more!

[izzystradlingirl]

𝑰𝒔 𝒊𝒕 𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓 ?

request: Izzy and reader (doesnt matter gender u pick) are married or gf/bf and they started to drift away from each other. They realized later on with an argument or not(lol)and make up for it. U can end it any way u want! @kay-random

A request from august I’m so sorry it took so long but after reading it again I found it pretty good and not as bad as I thought when I first wrote it. Not saying it’s that good cause I’m never satisfied with what I write but I hope you’ll enjoy it !! <3

Warnings : a little angsty, crying, grammar and conjugation

It’s been now almost a year that Izzy and I were married. At first everything was all roses and love. A young lovely and fresh couple. I’m wondering if all the excitement didn’t rush us and made us make a mistake.

I’m in the bathroom to change after coming back from work. I look at my ring on my finger. A beautiful ring, from a beautiful love… But does it still have the same meaning as the first day I had the honor to wear it? Thinking about it and my eyes got blurry and a tear slowly rolled down my face. Something is off. I can tell something is off between us. The most frustrating part is that I can’t tell what or why. Izzy and I are living together but it almost like we’re not, we barely talk. Don’t get me wrong he’s not a very talkative person but Izzy being dead silent like this is not okay. At first, when something was wrong, we were telling each other. We were having something called “a conversation". Now I feel like we’re strangers.

I live with a stranger I barely see, I barely talk to, I barely know… I can only imagine the worse but I’m trying to not. Maybe it’s just a down in our relationship that every average fresh couple have.

I have to admit it’s a strange life I chose to live here. Marrying a guy from one of the most popular band. A guy who was having all the girls he wanted (and probably still do at this point). We were probably blinded by love, I was probably blinded and didn’t see the problem who was probably there since the very first day.

I don’t know who I’m living with but it’s not the Izzy I know. As surprising as it could be, the Izzy I know is the sweetest person. Always supportive and caring, protecting you and wiping your tears for you when you cry.

I was wiping my own tears since a month now and today wasn’t an exception.

So, I wiped my tears away, refreshed my face with water and went down the stairs to the kitchen. Izzy was sat on a chair zoned out. I didn’t know if this view was sad, annoying, or whatever it could be it was for sure torturing. As I stop at the door frame, I look at him and he lift his head to look at me with his painted blank face. I felt weak after crying for half an hour, but I had to take all my courage in my hands.

“Can we talk?” I quietly ask.

He nods and looks down at the table. I walk to a chair, sit in front of him and look at him again. The silence was so heavy it could dig a hole in the floor for both our graves.

We kept staring at each other in the eyes without any emotions for a moment.

I take a deep breath and open my mouth to talk but nothing comes out. I was trying to find how to start

“I don’t know…” Izzy suddenly mutters cutting my thoughts.

I slightly frown my eyebrows, shake my head a bit and shrug. “You don’t know?” I mutter too, what does that mean? He shakes his head too.

I felt my tears coming back and Izzy avoiding eye contact was not helping. I tried not to cry in front of him but, some threatening tears found their way down my cheeks. The silence and the tension were pressuring me.

“Izzy… you know we can talk… you know we can trust each other… what’s going on?” I ask almost desperately. He nods and I see him try to smile at me but, it looked more like a painful move than anything else. “Please say something…” I need him to talk even if it’s to tell me to fuck off. It would be the longest sentence I would have had in a month.

“What do you want me to say?” He shakes his head almost pissed. “I don’t know, anything. What’s wrong?” He’s looking at me with a frown. Don’t tell me he didn’t notice something was wrong.

I think he just scoffed and now he shrugs “There’s nothing wrong…” he denied. I look at his face like he’s mad. “Are you kidding me? There’s clearly something wrong Izzy don’t try to deny it.” I tell him firmly. He shrugs again and say nothing. I scoff not believing the situation. “Seriously? Are you just going to deny it and wait for a miracle? We need to talk Izzy, really.”

“And about what?” No way he dares to ask and in a pissed tone to complete it. He absolutely knows about what.

“Don’t know maybe the weather and the sun?? Izzy.” I look at him startled. “We didn’t have a conversation this month! We barely talk or see each other.”

“Yeah, what do you want we’re both busy…” wow. Worst answer. Ever. “Busy? I wake up at 7, work from 9am to 8pm. You’re never around when I’m home! And don’t try to tell me you’re at the studio cause I’m waiting for you every night until I fall dead asleep at 2 or 3 in the morning. You’re yeah obviously very busy. You were never staying this late at the studio before it must be a very big project.”

He looks at me, narrow his eyes and brush his chin with his fingers. He nods and it’s so silent I can hear him gulp. I didn’t yell at him or anything. I just explained. I’m just worried right now. Worried about him, about us. What about us?

I keep looking at him waiting for an answer. After like a minute, he remains silent looking at the table. I sigh and look at the ceiling. I then lean my head in my hand, my elbow on the table, and I look at him again.

We look at each other’s eyes for a moment and suddenly he decides to mutter “I’m sorry…” sorry? “Why?” I whisper pleading.

He only shakes his head and looks like he’s trying to say something.

“We should take a break…” he finally says after a moment. My head snap at him and I’m hoping I heard it wrong. “What?” I ask in an almost inaudible whisper.

“We’re not… we’re just…” he sighs not finishing his sentence.

A break ? So no talking ? Just… a break ?

“Wow… okay…” I say fighting my tears back “yeah okay…” I repeat not finding anything else to say. I take a deep breath before getting up and going to our bedroom, I close the door and cry and sob silently. Again. I go to the closet and take a suitcase and start to pack some stuffs.

And with only a shared look I open the front door and walk out, to the nearest bus stop. When the bus arrives I get in and head to my parents.

a/n : I have a part 2 going on if anyone is interested :D

[juicebox72664]

Always

Knock knock knock.

“Osamu? You’ve been there for a while, you okay?” Came Chuuya’s concerned voice from the other side of the door.

Dazai knew if he didn’t respond Chuuya would assume he tried to kill himself.

So, doing his best—which was pretty damn good—to keep the shakiness out of his voice, he responds. “Yeah, sorry, had some trouble with the bandages.”

There was silence in the other side of the door, and then, “I can help.”

“No!” Dazai yells instantly, and he knows any chance he had at lying his way out of this won’t work anymore.

He was gonna try anyways.

He quickly opens a cabinet door and puts the pregnancy test in there, he’d tell Chuuya, but not right now; actually maybe he wouldn’t tell him at all.

“Osamu, I’m coming in.” Chuuya’s voice states, cutting straight through his thoughts.

Dazai quickly touches his face making sure he hadn’t cried at all, and then unlocks the door so his hotheaded husband doesn’t knock it down.

Chuuya’s eyes instantly trail over him, looking for any signs of injury, finding none he looks behind him at the bathroom; no blood or anything, and there weren’t any blades out.

“I think Chibi’s a worry wort.” Dazai says, putting on his mask to cover up the storm of emotions threatening to overwhelm him; and they would if Chuuya tried probing.

“Are you okay?” And of course he would.

Dazai felt like crying, because Chuuya wouldn’t look at him like that if he knew; he’d probably look at him with disgust.

Dazai brushed past him, making it seem like he wanted to sit down as he flops on the bed, laying on his back; but really he just didn’t want to look into Chuuya’s concerned eyes.

“Of course I’m okay.” He knows Chuuya won’t buy it, but he still tries.

Chuuya doesn’t say anything at first, just sits beside him in the bed. “You know you can tell me anything.” He remarks, taking Dazai’s hand in his.

For once Chuuya wasn’t wearing his gloves, and the cold metal of his ring was in stark contrast to the warmth of his palm.

“I know.” Dazai responds, cursing himself for the crack in his voice.

Chuuya squeezes his hand. “Then tell me what’s wrong.” He all but whispers, looking at Dazai with a love he didn’t deserve.

Dazai averts his gaze, and then, not feeling like it was enough, he covers his face with his arm that isn’t holding Chuuya’s hand. “I’m pregnant.” He admits quietly.

Chuuya doesn’t say anything, and Dazai’s too scared to look at his face.

Chuuya’s hand comes and removes his arm from his face, and much to Dazai’s surprise, there wasn’t disgust or anger, just love, and concern. “And you were scared to tell me?” He asks.

Asks as if he’d done something wrong.

Dazai shrugs, not knowing how to reply.

Not knowing how to put his emotions into words.

Chuuya presses a soft kiss to his forehead, “Are you okay?”

Dazai wanted to both laugh and cry, he was concerned about him, of course he was, he wasn’t even sure why he was so worried about Chuuya’s reaction anymore.

“I don’t know.” He admits, voice shaky.

Chuuya pulls him into a sitting position and holds him against him, running his fingers through his hair. “You can do whatever you want Osamu, I’ll make sure of it.”

Dazai felt his eyes fill with tears as he buries his face in Chuuya’s chest, why did he always have to know just what to say to bring him to tears?

“I don’t know what to do.” He sobs, clutching onto the gingers shirt desperately.

“Sh, that’s okay, you don’t have to decide right now, you can take as long as you want; I’ll be here.” He comforts softly.

“Promise?” He pleads.

“Isn’t that what our wedding vows were?” He asks with a chuckle. “I’m not going anywhere, and most certainly not because of this.”

“Even if I abort it?” He asks quietly.

“Even if you abort it.” He assures.

“What if I want to keep it?” He wonders, voice still shaky.

“Then you can keep it, and I’ll be right here.” Chuuya presses a kiss to the top of his head.

“I love you.” The brunette tells his husband, just wanting to hear it said back.

“I love you too, darling, always.” The shorter man tells him.

[lesbians-against-the-monarchy]

Been rewatching the LOTR and Hobbit and I love me some found family so for your consideration:

Spy X Family au with Thorin as Twilight Bilbo as Yor and Frodo as Anya

[thormanick]

Just now realized that the first meeting of Kaveh and Alhaitham is mirrored by their tavern conversation, I. Am Not. Okay-

[mintandcreme]

Hold on a second… is the reason why ToQger had the running gag (I think it is, although I only remember two times, but we ignore that) of one of the train kids being alone, or when the team isn’t fully there, one the Shadow Line Minions say: “you can’t be a sentai with only one person/ there needs to be more,” and they’re always like:

“It doesn’t matter/they’re here in spirit” - saying it as an emotional thing because of foreshadowing of Akira watching over them in the “10 Year After Movie?” (Where’s my real one guys)?

At the end of the day, even if they don’t see the Rainbow Line, or him, he’s still there in spirit. Even if he isn’t there physically with them, he’s still in their making sure they’re safe??? He’s always there, no matter what?

Maybe???