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burnedbyshoto · 3 years

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for want of a bento box

– It’s plain and simple, you see, someone is stealing your bento boxes and you will find your lunch thief! Or, in which Todoroki Shouto keeps taking your bento box and you declare war.

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pairing: todoroki shouto x reader

warnings: fluff, cursing, shouto is a bad chef, I believe I made reader pretty gender neutral but I whipped this out in two hours and I can no longer remember if I used any fem!pronouns but im pretty sure I didn’t

word count: 3,060

a/n: this is for the wonder coworker bnharem collab! I had intended on writing a completely different theme and storyline but was very overwhelmed by how much time it actually needed to be written compared to the amount of time I actually had. that version will be out another time! but for now, enjoy some pure flufffffff!!!!

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Having a normal, functioning, well-paying job was probably the most desirable thing to you. It wasn’t to say that you were slacking or that you were homeless, broke, and never to be seen again because you were that in debt. But it was nice having a job!

When you entered the prestigious Toshinori Company, you joined not as an entry-level job employee but as a senior representative. You thought it was crazy.

It had to be crazy.

You had no prior experience, and now you were going to be in charge and the lead in certain areas?!

“And that was the entire layout of the office!” Mina chirped happily, throwing herself onto the desk chair across from yours with a big smile. “Any questions?”

“I don’t think so,” you mutter, brows creased as you look around the room again.

The office space was ample, sleek, open. Each desk has its own grand computer that you currently could not afford with your own money, comfortable chairs, and beautiful wood desks. It was elegant, far superiorly fancy, and yet, you didn’t feel out of place. Strange.

“Oh!” you say with a roll of your eyes as you reach below your desk to bring up your packed lunch. “Where was the break room again? I need to refrigerate my food!”

“Omg, of course, come this way!” Mina grins, standing up and motioning you to follow her. You smile gratefully and do.

The entire way to the office, Mina takes the time to point at the many different people on the floor and give them names. Everyone so far had sort of acknowledged you earlier as Mina was giving you the official tour. Some were much more open and friendly, and some had sneers or blank stares that left you dumbstruck.

Definitely a personable group.

“Hm, well, I guess Todoroki-kun isn’t here today?” Mina mutters as you enter the break room that has couches and comfortable-looking chairs. “Such a shame! You would have loved to see the office hottie!”

You snort at that, lips curled into a granulous smile as you place your plastic container with food into the fridge. “I’m sure I’ll live,” you brush off the fact that there was an absent person on your floor today.

“That’s the thing, though,” Mina points a finger at you, a lone eyebrow raised and a confident smirk on her face. “You won’t be thinking that again the moment you see him!”

You laugh, eyes crinkling as Mina joins your laughter. Eventually, she motions for the both of you to leave, and you nod in understanding. And with a weird sense of comfort and belonging, you realized that this job was going to be good.

Eventually, you had been working at Toshinori Company for two months.

Sixty-two days to be precise, and in all that time, you had only met Todoroki Shouto once. Even then, you had only seen the man walking through the office with a blank face, fingers in his pockets as two other men were walking in front of him, bickering lightly.

Had Mina not quite literally thrown herself across the table and gripped the collar of your shirt and twisted your head to look at him, you would have never caught a glimpse at the man with red and white hair. The three of them walked into the break room and came back out with their own lunches before leaving.

And that was it.

You had learned that the three of them (Todoroki Shouto, Midoriya Izuku, and Bakugou Katsuki) were within your department but worked very closely with the very high up members within the company. Many rumors pointed at one of the three taking over the company when the current CEO stepped down. They were, however, on the roster for your floor; they just never appeared except to pick up their lunches. Something they seemed to come to grab whenever you were a) way too fucking busy or b) not in the room.

You weren’t too bothered, though.

It wasn’t like you were trying to date one of them! You had only wanted to say hi.

Now, at ninety days, you had your first and probably most crucial evaluation.

Toshinori Yagi, the man who founded and currently ran this company, sat before you, looking at papers within a folder with tired but kind blue eyes. He nodded, impressed (hopefully), making small comments about the work you had been able to accomplish, a smile becoming a warming grin as he looked up.

“I’m impressed by the performance you’ve managed to attend to despite the short while you’ve been here, y/l/n-shojo,” Toshinori spoke, his fingers threading together and placing them onto the table. “I knew it was an excellent decision to put you in that position, and you exceeded my entire expectation!”

You flushed at that, lips twitching as you attempted to suppress that smile of yours.

“Thank you, Toshinori-san,” you practically wheeze as he waves off your thanks.

“No need to thank me, you’ve done all this work!” he laughs, tired eyes closing with a glorious supply of crow's feet blooming at the corner of his eyes. “Typically, at these evaluations, I ask a bunch of questions because there isn’t too much anyone can do in their first ninety days, I must admit.”

“Oh?”

“Mhm, but because I am curious, is there anything that has been happening as of late that you feel needs to be addressed with me?”

You felt yourself stiffen but knew your one and only complaint was not something to bring up in this setting.

“No, nothing,” you shrug, and Toshinori beams.

“I’m glad!”

Now, the problem.

The big, fat, stinky, hooligan, wanting to throttle someone problem.

For the past sixty of your ninety days, someone has been stealing your lunch.

Yes, you heard that correctly; someone was stealing your damn lunch! Every morning you woke up and prepared a delicious bento box for yourself. Some days you went as far as cutting shapes into your fruits and veggies just to make yourself grin. You weren’t the best chef in the world, but your bento boxes were pretty enough to make up for it, in your opinion. But the thing is, every day when you went into the communal fridge, you noticed two things.

One, your bento box was no longer in the same place, and two, the bento box was not yours at all.

The food was disastrously organized. Rice and lettuce spilling out in every partition in the box. The fruit and veggies often packed in this box had multiple cuts in them, implying that whoever did this was less than ideal with a knife. The meat was often oversalted, the sushi never sitting together, and everything was just… not it.

The first time you had sighed and eaten it, grumbling about how your precious lunch was stolen. But you had quickly figured out that it was inedible, and Mina, Uraraka, and Yaoyorozu thank god, offered to share their meals.

Seeing that you were distressed about how someone stole your egg and octopus sausages one day, Mina declared that they would watch the break room for whoever was stealing your light blue bento box. The first day you staked out, you had done it with Mina. But ten minutes into waiting around, you needed to pee. So you stood up and left in a hurry, leaving Mina alone.

But when you returned, Mina was gone, instead standing by Kirishima’s desk with a bright grin and a stance that screamed that she heard something she liked (gossip, possible in-office romance, a love confession?). Her jaw dropped as she noticed you and Kirishima had turned and waved in your direction as you raced into the break room to open the fridge, and sure enough, your bento was gone.

The next time, you staked out with Uraraka. Your arms were folded, your bladder cleared, and your lips twisted into a pout as you glared and stared down every single member who entered the room. Uraraka whispered to you her guesses about just who might be the thief, every other person rating an 8/10 likelihood of stealing your lunch.

But as the both of you sat there, your eyes narrowed at each passerby, no one came to collect your bento today.

“Deku-kun, no packed lunch today?” Uraraka asked as the green, curly-haired man you had only met once previously raced into the break room, grabbing the extra chopsticks meticulously hidden in the third bottom draw.

“Ah, Uraraka-san, y/l/n-san! Uh, no,” Midoriya greeted you both, who apparently responds to the nickname Deku, laughs off as he grabs a handful of napkins. “Todoroki-kun left all our lunches in his car by accident, and well… they spoiled… Kacchan’s pissed, so I ran off to get lunch for us today!”

Uraraka laughed, shaking her head, “Leave it to Todoroki-kun to act that way.”

Midoriya laughed, bright and clearly in agreement, “You should have seen his face when Kacchan asked for his lunch! I swear–”

“HOW LONG DOES IT TAKE TO GRAB FUCKING CHOPSTICKS, SHIT-KU! I’M FUCKING STARVING!” a voice roared from nowhere near the entrance of the break room. You did, however, jump a bit, eyes turning toward the break room entrance to see the blond man (Bakugou? Kacchan? You had no idea which was correct) near the entrance of the floor.

“It’s only been a minute, Kacchan, relax!” Midoriya laughs, completely unaffected by the startling shout as he waves goodbye to both you and Uraraka before leaving, joining Bakugou as the both of them seem to talk comfortably… well, maybe more like bickering.

“Why are they–”

“Childhood friends, apparently,” Uraraka sighed, but the smile on her face betrays her exasperation.

No one stole your bento that day.

Yaoyorozu took up the third stake out, the two of you idly chatting about tea. You honestly had no idea what to talk about with Yaomomo; she was often just so elegant and mature despite being your age. When you learned that her family was in charge of the Yaoyorozu Corp, it had been strangely easy to accept that.

It made sense.

So as the two of you stood at the kitchen sink, boiling water for tea Yaomomo swore would be the best matchup for your packed nigiri, the both of you missed the man who walked into the room, opened the fridge, and took your lunch.

“I… I am so sorry,” Yaomomo apologized, head bowed dangerously low as the both of you looked at the sloppily cut salmon in your not actual bento. “Please eat my food in reparation.”

“No, it’s okay,” you sigh, chewing on the somehow still warm salmon. “I deserved this loss.”

Luck was just on this man's side, it seemed. No matter what you did, you could never catch the man in action, and you were ready to give up.

But this was the last attempt you said to yourself as you returned to your office floor, the evaluation done, and the rest of your life coming to light. You could do this. No! You WOULD do this!

“Why don’t you just put your name on your bento box?” Bakugou asked, a lone eyebrow raised in what you could only assume was judgment and pity. The explosive man was standing in the doorway of the breakroom, watching as you and Mina were trying to climb up the counters of the breakroom to grab the camera you had previously planted. “Obviously, it doesn’t have your name on it.”

“Um,” you squeak, having been obviously caught by someone who intimidated you just the slightest bit. “That’s a good idea, thank you, Bakugou-san.”

“Tch, whatever, just clean up the damn counters, fucking nasty standing up on there. Some people prepare their food there.”

“We would never forget to do that!” you argue, desperate to not leave a bad impression on this man.

“I don’t know much about you, but I know raccoon eyes over there would.”

“MY NAME IS MINA!”

“Like I care.”

He left without so much as a wave but did seem to nod with his departure. You sighed as you hopped off the counter, Mina grabbing the cleaning supplies as she cursed out the long-gone man under her breath.

But you were looking at the fridge with your missing bento box.

“I can’t believe I never put my name on it.”

“It’s okay! Not even Yaomomo thought of it, so I say we are still smart!”

It was the next day, you were at your desk, anxious as hell as you did your work, trying not to focus on the fact that it was lunchtime and you were actively avoiding the break room. You wondered if they wouldn’t come and collect it today. If somehow they were an asshole and wouldn’t care if your name was on it! What would happen then? What if it was someone like Bakugou who was taking your lunch? What then? You were sure you would cave in slight fear and major intimidation if he said that your lunch was his now.

“Want a cutie while we wait, cutie?” Mina asked, waving the small tangerine in her fingers as she grins.

“Please,” you say in gratitude for the food because you were starving. “Thank you.”

Eventually, you lost track of what was happening, becoming all too invested in the conversation that Mina was telling you about that involved Kaminari, Kirishima, Bakugou, Midoriya, twenty-seven Red Bulls, fifteen Monsters, and five shots of sake. It seemed that the former two were quite big instigators when they wanted to be, and the latter two were unable to back away from challenges, especially when the other was involved.

“Y/l/n?” an unfamiliar voice called from behind you, and you turned partially in your chair as you looked behind you.

Standing behind you was a tall man with red and white hair, and from this distance, you noticed immediately that his eyes were a deep grey and brilliant blue.

Todoroki Shouto.

“T-Todoroki-san!” you greet him back, voice unable to keep from trembling as your nerves shot up. What was going on? You two had never interacted before! He was always gone, never present, and whenever he was in the office, it seemed that you weren’t there.

He cleared his throat and raised up two identical bento boxes.

“It seems… I have apparently been stealing your bento boxes,” he concludes, pressing the blue bento box with your name written on it into your hands.

Your jaw drops as your fingers curve around the cool plastic, eyes blinking up a storm as you try to abstain from laughing high pitched and ugly like.

“It was you?!”

A pink color blooms onto his cheeks as he averts his eye contact with you and nods slowly, “I am so sorry.”

“I just… how?!” you exclaim, exasperated, this man obviously being a bit dense if he had no idea he was taking your bento box!

“I prepare my bento boxes the night before, and I don’t really remember what I put into them….” Todoroki explains slowly, his hand rubbing the back of his neck, his tongue clicking the roof of his tongue. “I just thought that my cooking was improving and that I was somehow doing an amazing job.”

The grin that overcomes your face is one of subtle, strange fondness and soft warmth. “I can tell you that you probably haven’t improved much,” you tease, opening your bento box to see your prepared meal for the day.

Cucumber salad, bulgogi beef, rice, and some fruit.

It was packed exactly how you remembered.

“I can’t believe I finally get to eat a meal I prepared,” you continue to tease, your eyes moving up to meet Todoroki, who was also looking at your bento previously. “Thank you for returning my meals and apologizing.”

“It was nothing,” Todoroki waved off with a single hand before opening up his own disastrously assembled bento box. It looked worse than usual today. Everything was just thrown in, it seemed. You saw egg and rice, but everything else in there was indescribable. He smiles at you before sighing at his bento. “This looks more like my stuff.”

You laugh, shaking your head, “You want to share my bento box? I’m sure you probably don’t want to return to that.”

“No, it’s okay,” Todoroki gently declined, although he looked at your bento with great want. He cleared his throat, gaze moving to lock on yours, and you swore his cheeks were still pink but no longer from embarrassment. “I just wanted to come and apologize for stealing your lunch for so long and to thank you for the meals; they were all delicious. Especially the soba you had made.”

“It’s all good; it’s in the past now,” you say gently, somehow finding yourself falling for a man you’ve barely just begun to talk with. The both of you stare at each other, and your skin feels warm. You chuckle, gaze averting for a moment before returning as you tease him. “Although, if you steal from me again, I’m not so sure if I’ll be so lenient.”

“It won’t happen again, promise,” Todoroki smiles, and you feel your spine melt. “But I would love to make it up to you somehow. I can make you dinner one night or something?”

You laugh, head shaking, “No, absolutely not; I don’t trust your cooking skills just yet. But you can definitely take me out to dinner.”

“Yeah, I can definitely do that,” Todoroki agrees, and the both of you fall silent as the shy stares continue. “Does, um… is Friday at seven okay with you?”

“That works,” you say, and Todoroki smiles.

“Good, I’ll uh, see you then?”

“See you,” you agree with a sweet smile before turning around, your fingers raised in a small wave.

You turn to see Mina, Uraraka, and Yaomomo staring at you, eyes comically wide and so very intrigued.

“Oh… my… GOD!” Mina shrieked as Todoroki walks away, and you shriek as she jumps across the table and shakes you, screaming about office romances and meet-cutes being entirely too underrated. “PROMISE ME I’LL BE INVITED TO THE WEDDING!!!!”

“MINA!”

It would take about three years of dating, several months of teaching Shouto how to cook, which resulted in a few bellyaches. Still, eventually yes, Mina would be invited to your wedding.

#todoroki shouto x reader #todoroki x reader #bnha x reader #bnha #mha

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wispvial · 3 years

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So I finally posted my Franklin/Nubbins fanfiction, lol. Shout out to the three or so people who might enjoy it, I just had fun writing, even if I’m not confident! I wasn’t so sure about tagging, but there are allusions to violence and animal death, the kind you’d see in the movie.

#texas chainsaw massacre #nubbins sawyer #franklin hardesty #franknub #tcm #mine

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draconic-ichor · 3 years

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In the Steel Steeds Heart

Chapter 10: Crash and Burn

Warnings: strong language, sexual themes, blood/gore, mentions of trauma/ parental death

Summary: It’s finally time to give Sturm a test drive. Everything should go just fine….Right?

Feedback appreciated. 18+

No smut this time…sorry

The day had arrived: Sturm was finally ready for a real test drive. Heisenberg was on cloud nine, waking up Juniper early. He greeted her bedside with a cup of coffee, urging her up and into the kitchen. After she was awake enough to cook, they made breakfast together.

Heisenberg fried sausage links while Juniper buttered toast. A shared breakfast was rare between them with their differing times of rising.

They sat at the table across from one another. Heisenberg smiled at her, thinking they looked like a perfect little married couple. She looked so sweet to him in the mornings: curly hair a mess and cheeks still rosy with sleep.

Juniper moved her breakfast around her plate pondering, “Hey, why does the Duke allow you to have a tab when it’s apparently ‘against policy’ ?”

Heisenberg stabbed a piece of sausage before he spoke, “Well, do business with him damn near a hundred years and he may work more with you.”

He chewed a mouthful before continuing, “And besides I only use a tab when I send you out to pick up my orders.”

“Why?!”

“I don’t trust you with a satchel of lei.” He smirked.

“That’s rude.” Juniper wrinkled her nose, “And sexist.”

Heisenberg nodded along with her as he ate.

Seeing him agreeing made her lips curl in a small smile.

“Misogynistic?” He asked, mischief in his eyes, pointing his fork to her with a raised brow.

“It may be.” She giggled.

“And dare I say, stereotypical?” He fixed her with a mock seriousness.

“All of the above.” She agreed, trying to mimic the tone.

They held the stare down for a long moment, both trying to keep their lips from twitching.

They failed.

The kitchen erupted with a storm of laughter. Heisenberg put his knuckles to his mouth in an attempt to stifle the sound, causing Juniper to lose her composure even further.

She loved to see his eyes crinkle with real glee.

Juniper followed him down to the workshop, assisting in getting the comatose Sturm onto a cart and clipping the restringing bands into place.

He kissed her forehead, thanking her for her help as he began to push the cart towards the elevator.

They didn’t go to the arena, Sturm not quite battle ready. This was just his first test drive, to let him fully power on in an open space.

Heisenberg picked the room that Juniper had previously laid waste to, seeing as it couldn’t get much worse. Or so he thought.

He sat the cart down, unbuckling the restraints and instructing Juniper to stay plenty back.

He joined her, excitement oozing from him.

Sturm powered on, the hum of his motor filling the room. He stood up, taking several heavy steps before pausing, the sound like a motorcycle emanating from him as he revved his engine.

Juniper glanced at Heisenberg, seeing worry pricking his face. His jaw was tight but his eyes didn’t leave his creation.

Suddenly Sturm surged forward, moving as fast as his legs would allow. The chainsaw propeller turned wildly as he went.

Sturm didn’t stop or even slow down until he ran headfirst into a series of pipes in the walls. Juniper frowned, seeing the overly large core on his back flickering dangerously.

The creature tugged backward once, finding itself stuck.

Heisenberg made a sound of aggravation, starting to walk forward to assist. It was too late.

Strum lifted his arms in an attempt to free himself easier. Before Heisenberg could get close enough Sturm had pulled away from the pipes.

His propeller instantly spun back to life, without the foresight to remove his arms.

“Shit!” Heisenberg yelled as Sturm’s arms were quickly and efficiently sliced off at the elbows.

Black blood spurted out from the stumps as the creature struggled to turn around. The forearms fell like stones on the floor, fingers twitching.

Juniper’s stomach fell as she watched the creature almost slip in its own puddle of blood clumsily. It was clear he wouldn’t function smoothly.

“What the fuck are you doing, you piece of metal garbage?!” Heisenberg yelled, storming closer. Juniper felt the pressure rise in the room.

Sturm stomped just enough out of the way of Heisenberg, surging forward a second time and just running with wild abandon across the room, spilling gore as he went.

Heisenberg didn’t move for a moment, watching Sturm bump into the opposite wall, almost dumbfounded.

But as the shock evaporated it was replaced with pure rage and embarrassment.

His charms clinked together as a heavy hum started to rumble around him.

All the little pieces of metal started to rise and vibrate.

“….Karl?” Juniper called out worriedly, taking a tentative step toward him.

Heisenberg’s head hardly turned toward her before he growled, “Get out.”

Juniper shook a bit, her compassion overriding her sense of self preservation, “Karl, please talk to me.”

He looked at his hands, the metal swirling more erratically.

“I said, get the fuck out!” He bellowed, baring his teeth. His muscles were tight and the air seemed to pop.

Juniper turned and fled, running up the stairs. As soon as she was a safe distance away she heard the room explode with noise. The sound of scrapping metal and things being thrown with inhuman force reverberated throughout the factory.

Heisenberg's voice could just be heard over the chaos, screaming obscenities.

Juniper kept moving, grabbing her coat as she went. She’d never seen him that bad, that far into his anger. Slight fear swirled her stomach, she wanted fresh air.

She didn’t stop moving until she burst through the entry door, her boots meeting snow.

She stopped, bracing her hands on her knees as she took ragged breaths. Her heart hammered like a scared bird in her rib cage.

She could still hear the muffled impacts of Heisenberg’s anger, even up here.

She steadied herself, needing more space. She looked up to the back gate, the way leading to the mountains.

As soon as she was past the gate she was greeted with company. A group of Lycans, and even a varcolac, decided to follow her.

They all started the trek up the mountain path.

His boiling anger slowly turned into a simmer, the rage becoming a dull throb. His arms fell limply to his sides, sweat soaking into his shirt.

Sturm still wandered around the room, haphazardly getting caught in the pipes.

Heisenberg’s breath was ragged as he watched the creature bumble around. He hated it, hated that it was such a glaring failure.

All the time he wasted on him made his stomach turn. He looked down at his gloved hands, grimacing, the conviction to destroy more leaving him.

Now the displeasure of his failure seeped into his bones and he hungered for something other than chaos. He wanted comfort.

He looked around the room, at all the destruction and sharpness of twisting metal.

“Doll?” He called out, hoping she had stayed somewhat close. He waited for a long moment, listening above the grind of machinery, for a response. Silence greeted him.

Sighing he made his way to the apartment, it being her normal escape from his outbursts.

It, too, was oddly quiet. Heisenberg’s chest tightened as he explored further, finding the bathroom and balcony also vacant.

Worry started to etch deeply into his features.

He headed back into the factory, his sharp eyes catching that her coat was missing from its hanger near the door.

“Buttercup?!” He called loudly down the open elevator shaft. When no answer came the worry became a stinging thorn in his chest.

Had he gone too far this time?

The thought poisoned him as he made his way down each level. Doors rattled open by themselves as he passed, his fingers almost itching to press the alarm. When only the familiar sounds of the factory greeted him he began to shake.

“Juniper?!” He called out finally, unable to keep his voice even. He found his way to the main door, pulling it open quickly.

There were footprints in the wet ground, much fresher than the rest.

His heart sank, eyes following them in the directions of the mountains.

The varcolac seemed to enjoy her company, padding besides her heavily as she went. In truth she had no real destination, just wanted time away. The creature’s tongue lolled out happily, other Lycans joining in. They seemed more grouped up then usual.

Juniper wasn’t scared as she’d been in the past, aware they wouldn’t harm her without being provoked.

They would even chase after small items she found if she threw them. She giggled, seeing two fighting over an old children’s toy.

Feeling a burn in her legs she decided to rest. She chose a sunny outcropping of rock.

The sun baked stone felt warm under her as she sat. The varcolac scrambled up to join her, flopping down with a deep sigh.

Between the sun and the heat radiating from the hulking beast, she was comfortably warm enough.

Juniper closed her eyes, listening to the wind through the mountains. In an odd way it was peaceful. Even when surrounded by death and twisted monsters there was an almost soothing silence.

It was in moments like these she could attempt to process everything she’d been through. The trauma that hid in the dark parts of her mind, waiting to pounce on her when she was weak.

She tried to remember her life before.

So much was stripped away. Flashes of her past coated in pain and haze. She couldn’t remember the faces of her family, or her mother. They were gone, but now even their memories were taken from her.

She felt a tear run down her cheek, like a bead of fire down her chilled face. She pulled her legs up to her chest, sniffing. As much as she tried to ignore it everything just felt fragile and foreign. She burst into broken sobs.

The varcolac shifted besides her, sniffing at her coat when it heard her anguish.

She wiped her nose on her coat sleeve, trying to calm down. Juniper attempted to fill her mind with all the positives: she was alive, had a warm bed to sleep in and didn’t go hungry. Touching her compass, her mind went to Heisenberg. Although he was rough and capricious, he was hers. She truly cared for him, so much more than she thought possible. Her heart swelled, the feeling soothing her.

The Lycans stirring and scurrying away caused her to look up. Heisenberg stood on the trail a few paces down. He was still, his eyes a mix of anger and fear behind his shades.

The varcolac gave a low growl as he took a step towards her.

His head snapped towards the creature, baring his teeth. It whimpered, shrinking back before scrambling off the rock.

Heisenberg huffed out before looking back at Juniper. She didn’t feel like she could breathe, her earlier thoughts still hanging heavily over her.

“What the hell are you doing?!” He looked over her, previous worries making his voice harder then he intended.

His tone caused her to spill over again. Juniper blinked up at him with large glassy green eyes. Tears ran down her cheeks as her face scrunched up.

All the anger drained from Heisenberg’s form, worry and fear quickly replacing it.

He crumpled down, throwing his arms around her. She yelped as he pulled her into a desperate hug. He clutched her tightly, giving a pleading whisper into her hair, “I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry.” He gulped, all the words tumbling from his lips, “Please don’t leave.”

He thought she was running away?

That realization struck Juniper like a bolt of lightning. Her hands found his back, returning the hug and burying her messy face into his coat.

She felt him tremble a bit under her, causing her to sob anew. Unaware of the true reasonings behind her crying he scooped her up off the rock, not wanting to lose her for a moment.

“Please come back.” He whispered, almost crushing her to his chest.

“I-I…” Juniper sniffled, trying to formulate a full sentence.

Heisenberg let her go enough to look at her face. Her eyes were red and puffy, cheeks a mess, hair clinging to the moisture. He reached up with a free hand and smoothed the hair away.

“I…I wasn’t.” She looked down, “I wasn’t running away.”

Heisenberg shuttered with relief, his lips weakly twitching into a smile.

“You were so angry…I.” Juniper sniffed, “I just wanted to go outside for a bit…to see the mountains. I don’t want to leave.”

His heart soared, cradling her back to his chest.

She gulped, feeling the stress flow out of his form.

Juniper held onto him until her breathing slowed.

“Karl?” She chirped.

“Hm?”

“Can we go home?”

“…of course.”

He didn’t allow her to walk until they were almost all the way back, instead holding her close as they went. She didn’t argue, enjoying his warmth.

Once back in the apartment Heisenberg showered first. After washing away all the filth and somber feelings down the drain he haphazardly dried then sprawled across the bed. He lay looking up at the ceiling with glazed eyes, fidgeting with his necklaces.

He listened to the sound of the shower as Juniper cleaned herself.

He didn’t realize how much it would hurt finding her missing, she had become a normality in his chaos.

“Karl?” Juniper chirped, approaching the bed. “Hm?” Heisenberg raised a brow, scratching his chin. He lay down across the sheets in only boxers and a light shirt.

“I was cleaning up the storage room the other day and found some old books.” She sat on the bed, one of them in her hand.

She held it up; its old leather cover showing delicate gold text, worn with time.

“I think it’s in Dutch.” She mused, opening it up.

Heisenberg shifted closer, looking at the pages.

His eyes scanned over the words for a moment before he made a sound of realization.

“It’s not Dutch, it’s in German!” He smiled. He snaked his arms around Juniper’s waist pulling her backward, deeper into the bed.

She giggled a bit as he shifted into a more comfortable position, keeping an arm around her. She cuddled into his side, looking over the words.

She was unable to read the words, but still liked looking it over in almost a childlike way.

“Why do you have so many German books?” She asked, “Can you speak German?”

“When I was younger I could.” He placed his chin on her shoulder, “Very rusty now.”

She bounced a bit, smiling excitedly.

“Say something in German!”

“Why?”

“I want to hear it.”

“Shit, give me a second”

His pale eyes clouded with thought, hugging her closer as he did so. She cuddled into his side. Juniper loved his warmth, like an electric blanket.

He shifted enough to look into her eyes.

“Du bist die sterne meiner nacht.”, his voice was gentle, the thicker accent surprising her a bit.

The way his lips moved and the way the words hit her ear enthralled her.

“What does it mean?” Juniper blinked up at him.

“If you wanted to understand me you shouldn’t have asked me to speak German.” He smirked, amusement sparkling in his eyes.

“You’re a bastard!” Juniper lightly shoved him, causing him to bark with laughter.

(Du bist die sterne meiner nacht: You are the stars of my night)

#resident evil village #karl heisenberg #heisenberg x oc #re8 oc #heisenberg #in the steel steeds heart #heisenberg smut #resident evil

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chocolatedutchthehoe · 3 years

Text

Another Diamond Day.

TW: Cancer, Mentions of death.

—————————————————

The sun peeked through my sheer curtains as I laid flat on my bed reaching above me. It’s rays kissed my eyelids, the tenderness of warmth lingered on my cheek and I smiled into its warmth. I don’t get this feeling often.

Its unexplainable.

This feeling, much like motivation, is fleeting. Some days I let it slip through the tiniest crack of my fingers. Other days The aches in my body melt away over night as I wake with purpose. I uncover myself from my soft linens and sit up allowing my feet to dangle freely over my plush white rug.

I take in the warmth of the sun, the smile set on my face for the day. I yawned loudly, standing and opening the large window in front of me and breathing in deeply the cool crisp air.

I don’t get many days like this but when I do I feel it through my body. I feel light, airy, as if if I jumped just a little bit my body would simply float above the satin covers sprawled across my bed.

I sat back down reaching behind me to touch the only tangible thing in my bed other than my covers. My body followed my arms as I laid back, I caressed his upper left thigh with my hand and laid my head on his stomach. The rise and fall of his toned abdomen made me feel like just my head was on a boat floating ever so softly up and down a small tide.

He sucked in a deep breath finally waking up before reaching above himself and stretching then bringing his fingers back down and playing in my tree rooted like Locs. Twisting the fully closed ends in between his pointer and thumb before slowly making his way up to my freely new hair.

“You have to re-twist it soon right?”

I chuckled a little.

“Its retighten and yes baby I do. But I will do it after my appointment.”

“I’m coming with you.”

“I know you are you weren’t gonna let me go without you anyway..”

I stared at the ceiling as silence filled the room.

“Are you scared..”

It was more of a statement then a question. But Dom was mostly asking himself.

“No... I’m prepared.”

I stood where I once was before he woke and rounded our bed to his side. Taking his hand in mine and leading him to the our connected on sweet bathroom.

We washed out bodies together; the water from the shower head above rushed from our heads to our toes. He watched me under tired lids. The lazy smile he stretched across his face. I couldn’t help but trace his chest with my fingers. We stood, For what seemed like hours, in each others presence was merely fifteen minutes as we took turns washing our bodies we couldn’t help but love each other in the process. Even if it was for just a moment just to take our mind off of the task we had to

Overcome today.

He stepped out first drying himself feverishly as I stayed under the water that has now turned cold. The fog from

Our heat escaped the bathroom as he opened the door to the bedroom. I gave it a few seconds letting the cold water run down my neck and chest before turning it off and following in pursuit.

We dressed comfortably. I wore my shirred beige backless hemmed dress with white sandals and he matched with his light brown slacks and white turtle neck. We bonded in the kitchen making our favorites for breakfasts. French toast with bananas, sweet sausage and eggs with a side of chopped fruit.

I like tea.. He likes coffee. I like the smell of coffee... He claims he doesn’t think teas have a smell. I smile to myself at the arguments we have about whether they do or don’t.

It’s the first day of spring, although the sun is out it was still chilly.

“Don’t forget your jacket.”

I rolled my eyes with my back facing him and my right hand on our front doorknob.

“I don’t think it’s that cold outside.”

I tried to convince with no luck. He sucked his teeth making his way to our coat closet and pulling out both our jackets.

“You don’t ever think it’s ‘That Cold’, Alana.”

He took my hand in his as he led me down the hallway, to the elevator and down to the garage to the car. We walked in unison towards his truck, both rounding to the passenger side. He opened the door and I took the passenger seat as he shut my door and rounded to the drivers side.

We drove in a comfortable silence. The stereo playing a random FM radio and his hand clasped over mine on the center console. The streets were quiet as if the day was made for us. No traffic, no loud noise from impatient drivers slamming their fist on the center of their wheel and screaming out their window. The trees were green, vibrant and lively. Although today was the first day of spring it’s has been warm for weeks with slight rain showers allowing the plants of all different shapes and sizes bloom freely.

The people on the side walks walked with purpose as the sun followed us to our destination. I opened the sunroof, The breeze was warm I could feel it on every part of my skin as it blew through my locs and tickled the top of my head. My doctors office wasn’t far but I know Dom took the longer routs just to waste time. Finally pulling into the parking lot. He stepped out first from the parked car and I Waited for him to make his way to my side as he always made me do. ‘Don’t touch my door.’ Was what he always told me. He grabbed ahold of my hand with his left as his right hand held the door open. The wind once again embraced me, it flew past my covered arms, giving me goosebumps, and dipped between my legs lifting my dress. We walked once again hand in hand into the large brick building. Patients, Doctors, Nurses, and other medical staff filled the large common area seemingly wandering aimlessly although I knew they had an agenda.

The secretary gave us directions to outpatient. When we arrived I signed myself in and got my blood pressure taken. We sat in the waiting room listening to the chiming bells and awaiting a nurse to announce my name.

His large fingers danced in my open palm as we watched whatever they had on their main television. A few minutes have gone by since we’ve been seated and I rested my head on his shoulder trying to stay awake.

“Alana Cole.”

my head lifted in response as the nurse smiled from the door way ushering us through. We followed her to an empty office and before she turned to leave she smiled again.

“Dr. Andrews will be in with you in a moment.” She shut the door.

We sat in silence, something that seemed to be in a common repetition for us today. But I could tell this silence more than the others. It was tense. Dom bounced his left leg nervously and roughly massaged my left hand. The weight of the world was on his shoulders for some reason. He breathed heavily and ever time he exhaled he pursed his lips like he wanted to whistle, blowing his cheeks out. I rested my right hand over his eager ones.

“Calm down baby.” I caressed his cheek taking my free hand turning his head away from the door where he stared waiting for the doctor.

I kissed him softly hopefully taking his mind off the inevitable that was sure to come. Even if it was for just a moment.

The doctor entered. Dom stood shaking his hand. I mimicked to not seem rude although it wouldn’t have made a difference.

“How are you guys this morning?”

He asked unease though he tried not to show it.

“We’re doing okay. A little timid if I’m being honest.”

Dom answered. He was scared.

“Well let’s not waste time then.” Dr. Andrews stood, pulling an image from a file folder with my name labeled on it. He attached it to a white board with an LED light on it to see more clearly.

“As you can see here we are in the early stages of Three. Which is a little further than what we were hoping for as far as surgery goes. The tumor has spread from the lower muscular tissue on the left side of you brain down to your left shoulder and c-v in your spine. That’s where the tightness and soreness you were talking about come in. It is still treatable with some chemo radiation therapy.”

“How early can we start therapy?” Dom jumped to the edge of his seat.

He and Dr. Andrews pondered through treatment strategies. I couldn’t help but fall into my own diseased mind. Their voices faded away as I took in my surroundings...

More importantly Dom’s face. His dark curly hair that contrasted perfect with his light brown eyes. The specs of green the surrounded the edges of his iris. His smooth brown skin was Arguably lighter than mine as I spent more Time Outside then he did. His chiseled jaw was perfectly even and his beard connected from his hair line to the end of his chin. He was always so clean shaven. His eyes curved down like a falling crescent moon. And he had the nose bridge of a Nubian prince. His smile was a bright as th-

“How does that sound Ms.Cole..”

Breaking away from my thoughts I smiled at him. I didn’t hear a word he said but did it really matter.

“If I don’t go through with treatment how long would you estimate my time.”

“Oh I’m-. we would have plenty of time if we started this week.“

“If we didn’t?”

“Alana he’s saying we can start trea-“

“I heard what he said baby.... I just want to know.”

The doctor pondered.

“I would estimate roughly eight- ten months if you refuse treatment..”

I nodded understandingly. Picking up my purse and going to shake his hand once again.

“Alana the chances of chemo going well outweighs anything else. And once we are able to shrink the tumor to a manageable size surgery would be just as easy. I would like you to take it into consideration.”

I knodded again holding his one large hand in both of my small ones.

“Thank you.”

I looked back at Dominic expecting my stance to be a signal to him to follow but he seemed to be still processing my choice.

“Dom let’s go.”

he stood from his chair, still dazed by the conversation that happened mere seconds ago, and walked towards the doctor shaking his hand with begging eyes.

“You two have a wander full day.”

We made our way back to the car. The sun was higher in the sky, the heat more prominent. The rays hit our faces as we walked towards the parking lot. I was a foot

In front of him. He treaded slowly behind me but his long legs didn’t allow him to fall far behind. I reached the truck before Dom waiting for him to open the door. He stopped just a hair before me and squinted up at the sky. He took my small hand in his and held on fully as apposed to me holding his pointer and middle. And squeezed . He pulled me

Into him and held me longingly. Kissing the my forehead like it was the first time we were meeting after years of separation but at the same time like we were parting again.

“I love you.” He whispered to the top of my head.

“I love you more...”

“You can be so selfish sometimes...”

He continued. Tears stained his face, falling in pattern onto my forehead and down my face.

“How do you manage, with so much love around you, how do you manage to be so selfish Alana.”

He was angry though he didn’t let go. I was dying and there was nothing he could Do about it.

‘How could I love him and do this to him.’ Is what he wanted to say.

I don’t know how. So I kept quiet.

He wasted no time reaching behind me and opening my door. I sat down and he closed the door roughly trying not to slam it. He made his way to the drivers side.

I watched as he started the engine and put the car into reverse. He tried not to look at me. For the first time I couldn’t tell what he held in his eyes. The mixed emotions that swirled in his golden iris’s were clouded by tears he refused to let fall.

Sitting forward he put the car in drive and clasped his hand over mine on the center console. The drive back home was hotter and the radio played louder to void what would have been an uncomfortable silence.

I don’t get many days like this but when I do I feel it through my body. I feel light, airy, as if if I jumped just a little bit my body would simply float. I didn’t want to ruin it.

#Love #black #black woman #black man #Sage #SageTheGemini #couple #sad #aesthetic #BlackLive #BLM

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eeveedel · 4 years

Text

chubby actor louis (part 3)

hello, lovely people! we have yet another installment, and there’s lots of debauchery in this lil update. includes: weight talk, body image talk, bondage, dom/sub dynamics, stuffing, weight gain kink, and lots and lots of food. I hope you enjoy. mwah!

part 1 I part 2

Bacon, eggs with cheese, and a large coffee with cream and sugar started each of Louis’s days.

He slept in every day, and woke up to his breakfast on a tray next to him. Sometimes there were additions of some changes; sausages instead of bacon, scrambled eggs instead of fried, chocolate chip muffins instead of toast. But his food was always waiting for him, and usually, Harry was, too.

Harry worked out in the mornings, so he was usually sweaty, pink-cheeked, and shirtless, sitting next to Louis in bed when he woke up.

“Morning, sunshine,” Harry greeted him with a kiss, “Are you hungry?”

That was also a now-constant in Louis’s life. Harry always asking if he was hungry, if he needed a snack, if he wanted to try something Harry had been whipping up. And unless he was already painfully full, Louis usually said yes.

He pulled himself up, fluffing pillows behind him so he could sit up and eat his breakfast, the food on his many plates slowly disappearing until he just had empty dishes and a full belly.

He slouched back, lazily sipping his coffee while Harry showered him in his usually string of compliments.

“Look at your cheeks, sweetheart,” Harry hummed as he cradled Louis’s face, “They’re so round! You look so pretty.”

This is why they worked well together, Louis thought through his post-meal haze. He was a goal orientated person, always ploughing forward to the next task. But Harry took in details, observed both the beauty and flaws in everything, although he was so sweet he usually wanted to notice the former. He was the one who would sit back and soak in the little things, notice the changes in everything.

“I know,” Louis sighed, reaching up to touch his puffy cheeks. He folded his hands down a moment later, running his hands down his stomach and rucking up the edge of his shirt.

“But Harry, look at this,” Louis groaned, prodding at the spot under his belly button. “I have a stretch mark! Look!”

“I see it, honey,” Harry said with an easy smile.

“I have a fucking stretch mark,” Louis moaned, “I’m going to have it forever. I’m going to have to use those lotions pregnant women use. Oh my god, Harry.”

“You’re so dramatic,” Harry sighed, giving him a kiss, “I think it’s cute.”

“Of course you do.”

“What? I do. It just means you’re bursting with the love I’m giving you,” Harry said, “Twenty-three pounds of lovin’ in this belly.”

He gave Louis a little pat on his stomach, and Louis felt the morning tension and grumpiness unspool from his body. He sighed and leaned over, giving Harry a kiss as he placed his hand next to Harry’s on his own midsection.

“Well don’t give yourself too much credit, I did most of the work,” Louis huffed, “You can take more credit when you contribute seven more pounds.”

Harry offered him a wolfish grin, and kissed him hard on the cheek.

“Deal.”

Louis couldn’t remember a time he had looked forward to eating this much.

He vaguely remembered a time – now only about a month and a half ago – that he had eaten kale salads with salmon on top and mixed grains for dinner and washed it down with kombucha, where he had told himself that it was worth it for all the vitamins and nutrients and the bragging rights he would have amongst his industry friends for how had the most restrictive diet, but he had never been happy before, during, or after those meals. And he also remembered when he had started preparing for this role, where the thrill of eating to his heart’s desire was quickly chased with anxiety over his softening waistline, the voice in his head that said he was doing the worst thing in the world.

But those voices were gone now. There was just his tongue that craved things, and then his boyfriend that inevitable placed that craving into Louis’s hands within the hour. Poutine, with thick homemade fries, doused in orange curls of cheese and thick gravy, curly ramen noodles with eggs on top and tender pieces of beef soaked in salty broth, homemade banana bread slathered in Nutella. Before bed, ice cream with gobs of cookie dough, brownies with caramel drizzled on top, peach pie with whipped cream. If he was thirsty he was presented with ice cold glasses of grape or cherry soda, vanilla milkshakes, or homemade Frappuccinos.

He ended every day with a tight, gurgling belly, which Harry would happily rub, and in the morning, his boyfriend’s careful eyes and observant eyes put him on the scale and measured every inch of his body.

Three more pounds crept up on Louis’s frame, bringing with it the usual praise from Harry and also more and more of the minute details Louis was noticing more and more. His cheeks pressed hard up into his eyes when he smiled, and he barely had to look down or speak for the double fold under his chin to be noticeable. His biceps had softened and he soft bit of arm jiggled under each arm when he waved. He had to rock a little to get himself going before he got up from the couch, and he caught him breathing a bit harder at the top of their main staircase. More red marks appeared on his hips, stomach, and legs, and his thighs rubbed together hard when he walked through the house. Harry bought him some special powder to slap on his thighs and also a large pair of bike shorts to help the chaffing, but when Louis forgot either of them, he widened his stance a bit into a small, awkward waddle. Once Harry caught him doing it and pinned him against the nearest wall for a mid-afternoon quickie.

Harry told him things that would have scared Louis, once – “You’re going to have to go up another pant size soon” and “You know you’re overweight for your height now” and “You’re really fucking out of shape” – but he said them in a deep, raspy voice that turned those statements into the highest of praise.

Louis knew the impact his body had on his boyfriend, and he carried that with pride.

One evening, Louis half-waddled into the kitchen, delicately holding a hand on top of the curve of his stomach, and saw Harry shirtless, standing at the counter and tossing a salad. Harry turned when he saw Louis, his smile bright.

“Hey, you.”

“Can I have a snack?” Louis said, blushing a little. His stomach was just starting to gurgle again, even though after lunch he had had a whole package of sugary dried fruit.

“You’re in luck, I was about to call you for dinner,” Harry said, “Come see.”

Louis followed Harry into the dining room, his eyes widening when he got there. Harry had apparently chosen a theme of Italian and carbs for the evening, because their dining table had two big pans of lasagna, one filled with beef and marinara sauce and one with layers of cheese and a thick white vodka sauce. There was a big loaf of garlic bread nestled in a wad of aluminum foil, and a small tray with two chocolate lava cakes.

“Oh, fuck,” Louis whispered, moving past Harry to look at the food more closely. He leaned forward, the shelf of his belly pressing gently into the edge of the table, and reached towards the tail end of the garlic bread loaf. It was still a little far away, so he leaned further forward, his ass sticking out further behind him and his stomach harder into the table in a way that made him exhale hard.

Louis tore off a piece of bread and stuffed it into his mouth, and then he looked behind him and saw Harry, his eyes dark, a slight smirk on his face as he leaned on the divider of their kitchen. Louis chewed the bread and swallowed quickly.

“What, babe?” Louis asked, his voice already dropping a bit.

“Just enjoying the view,” Harry offered, the side of his mouth twitching.

“Yeah?” Louis asked. He batted his lashes and leaned further over the table. The pair of briefs he had grabbed were too small, and he could feel them wedging into his ass, showing off more of his cheeks. He bounced a little on his toes, feeling the way it made his behind jiggle, and then he reached a hand behind him, smacking his own cheek. “You like this fat ass, baby?”

“God, fuck,” Harry breathed out. He pushed away from the kitchen and came closer, grabbing Louis around the hips. He shoved himself forward, his jeans grinding roughly against Louis’s ass, and Louis gasped. He tried to stand and twist around to let Harry kiss him. He felt his sides fold into a thick roll, and just the feeling made him moan into Harry’s lips.

“You look so good,” Harry groaned as he pulled back, only to nip at Louis’s lip. “So sexy.”

He rubbed along Louis’s stomach, pressing gently into the softness, and Louis giggled.

“Thanks to you,” he said, “You keep me fat and happy, baby.”

“Mm,” Harry hummed, “You’re happy?”

The question seemed genuine, a little softer, and Louis pulled back.

“Yes,” he said firmly, “I am so, so happy.”

He set his hands on Harry’s shoulders, smoothing his hands along the hard, firm lines under his t-shirt.

“God, I don’t decided if I want to fuck you or have the food,” he groaned. “Can we have both?”

“I don’t want you to choke, honey.”

“Ugh, boring,” Louis moaned, “Always so worried for my safety.”

Harry was quiet, chewing on his lip, and then his eyes brightened.

“I have an idea,” Harry said, “If you don’t like it, we don’t do.”

“Okay,” Louis said slowly, “Tell me.”

“I get a pair of our handcuffs from the box upstairs,” Harry said, “Or rope. Or a scarf. Whatever you want. Tie you to a chair, feed you your dinner. And I’ll untie you when I think you’ve had enough.”

Louis felt a little thrill run through his belly at the idea, and his mouth dropped.

“Oh,” he exhaled, “I – okay.”

“Would you want to try that?” Harry asked. He was trying to keep his voice steady, but Louis could recognize Harry’s eagerness easily.

“Sure,” Louis said, “Sure, let’s do it, yeah.”

“Yeah,” Harry echoed. He took a step back and vaguely gestured behind him, “I’m gonna…get supplies upstairs. What do you want me to tie you with?”

“Um,” Louis said, “Rope?”

“Solid choice,” Harry agreed, “I’ll be right back.”

He seemed to sprint out of the room, and Louis heard him moving around rapidly upstairs, and then, his footsteps were going down the stairs, and soon, Harry was in front of him. He was carrying a soft length of bondage rope, thick and petal pink, and Louis smiled.

“Tell me what you need me to do,” Louis said gently.

“Sit,” Harry breathed out, his voice firm.

Louis pulled out a dining room chair and sat down, and Harry nodded.

“Scoot back, hands behind your hands…there you go.”

Harry moved behind Louis and crouched on the ground, and then tied the rope around Louis’s wrists, and then around the slats at the back of the chair, securing Louis to the chair. Harry put in a couple more ties, his hands sure and well-trained, and he gave them a tug, asking if they were too tight and adjusting the knots. Finally, he stood up and circled around Louis to go to the kitchen, and then returned a moment later with two big glasses of ice water. Then he grabbed his own chair, dragging it forward so he was sitting directly in front of Louis.

Louis watched carefully as Harry picked up a piece of garlic bread, dripping in bright yellow butter. Louis licked his lips and locked his eyes with Harry, his head already growing fuzzy.

Harry pushed his hand forward, holding the bread right next to Louis’s lips.

“Eat,” he said softly.

Louis opened his mouth gladly and bit into the bread, moaning immediately at the taste. He ate happily, swallowed down what Harry gave him and then licking his boyfriend’s buttery, crumb-covered fingers when he was done. Harry reached for another piece of bread and offered it to Louis, smiling as he swallowed it down. Another piece of bread appeared after that, bigger than the first two, and Louis once again ate it quickly, making Harry’s smile grow.

“Good boy,” Harry nodded. He paused just to wipe his hand with a napkin and to pick up Louis’s water, commanding him to take a big sip.

Next Harry dragged forward a tray of lasagna, the one filled with meat and red sauce. He retrieved a big serving spoon and took a hunk out of the corner of the dish, then held it in front of Louis. He ate, just like he was told, his tongue savoring the soft pasta, the rich sauce, the greasy cheese. He moaned happily and ate from Harry’s spoon, then eating another spoonful afterwards. Harry pet his hair and cooed, picking up more and more for Louis to eat, until there was a big space in the lasagna pan where they used to be food.

Louis’s stomach felt warm and happy, and he wiggled a little when Harry switched to the other pan, how giving him a taste of sharp-tasting vodka sauce that made his tongue tingle.

“So good, baby,” Louis moaned as he ate. He felt some sauce drip onto his chin and Harry didn’t go to clean it up.

“Thank you,” Harry smiled, picking up another spoonful, “Only the best for my boy.”

Louis closed his eyes and kept eating, his mind a haze of cheese and pasta. He only frowned when he felt how tight his stomach was getting. He blinked, looking down. He could his belly was sticking out, perfect round, and he looked up at Harry.

“I’m a little full…” he said, but Harry just blinked at him and dug up another spoonful of lasagna.

“You stop when I tell you to stop,” Harry said simply, “Open your mouth.”

Louis blinked, and then opened his mouth and did what he was told. When he was done with the spoonful Harry smiled and reached out, smacking the side of Louis’s belly and giving it a little jiggle.

“Good boy,” he praised.

Harry’s hand was steady, doling out more pasta, and then more bread, all with little sips of water. Louis took deep breaths, pulling a little at his constraints to get comfortable. His stomach was tighter and heavy, and he opened his legs a bit to give his stomach room. He felt it sag, he felt the elastic of his underwear starting to curl at the top, helpless to the weight of his middle.

“Such a perfect boy,” Harry said, “Eating so well for me. Making me so happy.”

Louis nodded, and opened his mouth at Harry’s next command. More bread. More butter. More calories that would go straight to his thighs and belly and ass. Or maybe his double chin, or his fat arms. It didn’t matter.

His eyes drooped as he ate, and he felt grease and sauce accumulate on his face and chin. His mouth opened less eagerly, but he still ate. He let out a little burp at one point, and blushed, but Harry just patted his gut and gave it a jiggle, telling him it was okay.

“One more bite,” Harry said, holding out more lasagna, “And then dessert.”

Dessert? Jesus fucking Christ. But Louis opened his mouth nonetheless and ate the lasagna.

As soon as he had swallowed, Harry fetched a clean fork and the two lava cakes, holding him out.

“These are for you,” Harry grinned, “Both of them.”

“Both?” Louis asked,

“Try for me,” Harry said, “Come on.”

He gave Louis more water, and then gave his belly a firm jiggle, and then, there was a forkful of chocolate in front of Louis.

His belly said no. But chocolate sounded so good. And Harry was giving him a look where no was not an option.

So Louis sagged forward and welcomed the cake into his mouth.

His brain was floating elsewhere, his mouth was full of chocolate, and Harry was still staring at him, coaxing the food between his lips.

Louis moaned as he finished one lava cake and then another one floated in front of his face. His mouth opened without thought, a robotoic motion of open-close-chew-swallow.

He barely realized the last bite was gone until Harry was kissing him, one hand cradling Louis’s full, tender stomach.

“Oh, good fucking boy,” Harry breathed, “God, look at you.”

Louis could only imagine what Harry was seeing; Louis exhausted, sweating, red-faced, his face covered in food and his soft body spilling out of his briefs. Harry started to clean him, rubbing a napkin on his face, getting some water into his system, and then he untied Louis’s wrists, letting him lean forward and cradle his stomach. The skin was tight and hot under his hands, and he moaned. Harry coaxed him to his feet, and Louis widened his legs, cradling his belly and waddling to the living room, until he could collapse on the couch.

Harry sat by his hip, rubbing his stomach, soothing the aching skin and giving Louis kisses on his face and wrists as he came down from his high. His stomach was screaming, but his head was happy. He was Harry’s good boy, happy and fat, always doing what he was told. That was enough.

As Louis became more lucid, Harry grew a bit quiet, still touching Louis carefully but not offering many words. Eventually, his voice came, quiet and uncertain.

“Louis,” Harry said softly, “Are you really happy?”

“Hm?” Louis lifted his head and looked at his boyfriend, who was looking at him so gently.

“Are you happy like this?” Harry asked, “Like you said earlier?”

He kept drawing circles around Louis’s belly button, but Louis still would’ve understood his question.

“Honestly, I think…I think this is the happiest I’ve been in a while,” Louis admitted.

His skin flushed as he said it, but he was smiling.

“I don’t have to get up early to do work outs I don’t even enjoy and eat food I hate, just for a body I’ll never feel good enough in,” he said. The words were rushed, but he meant them.

“I don’t know if I was happy like that, when we were the fucking ‘fittest couple in Hollywood,’” Louis confessed, “I mean, that was your thing, and I just did it because it was expected of me.”

He blushed, reaching down to squeeze his belly.

“But I feel so…so happy like this. In this body, with you, doing this,” he said, “Like I’m enough.”

Harry nodded, his face soft and content.

“I always had the feeling you didn’t like working out that much,” Harry said, “I mean, you did it, but I always had the feeling you wanted to do anything else.”

“Yeah,” Louis said softly, “And I hated half the food I used to eat. I guess some of it was alright. But I just felt like I had no choice.”

“Well know you can do whatever you want,” Harry said, “Although I will say, I kind of miss you when I work out. I miss having you there with me.”

“Maybe I can hang out with you while you’re lifting? Or on the treadmill?” Louis offered, “I can have a snack and talk to you while you do that.”

“I would really like that,” Harry agreed.

He reached down again to pet Louis’s belly, and Louis looked down at himself, a little lump growing in his throat.

“I’m going to have to lose this eventually,” Louis said sadly, “For my job.”

“Hey,” Harry said softly, cuffing Louis under the chin. “We have four pounds to go, honey.”

He gave him a kiss, holding his lips tight on Louis’s cheek before he pulled away.

“And I plan to make them count.”

Ideas sprouted in Harry’s head like weeds in the middle of spring.

For the next few days, he scaled back some of Louis’s meals. Still giving him everything he wanted, just a little less. A dozen buffalo wings instead of eighteen, four red velvet cupcakes instead of six, two calzones but no cinnamon sticks to go with them. Louis questioned him, a little frown forming at each of the meals.

“I’m planning something,” Harry teased him, “Be patient.”

And then one morning Louis woke up to no breakfast platter, and instead, Harry was just sitting next to him, a giant smile on his face.

“Wear something tight for me today,” Harry said, and then got up and disappeared. And Louis realized this was the day, this was Harry’s planning was paying off. And Louis was eager to mind out what it entailed.

Louis went to their closet, rifling the section that had become his out-grown clothes. He hated wearing tight clothes, he preferred his sweatpants and pajamas now above anything else, but if Harry wanted, he could deliver.

He selected a white button-down shirt and a pair of dark jeans, and started the process of doing them up. It was easier said than done, they had been new purchases when he and Harry had visited the mall, but they were already tight. All the buttons on his shirt did up, but the buttons were tight and the fabric stretched taunt on his frame, not hiding a thing. He rolled up his sleeves to his elbows and unbuttoned the first few buttons of the shirt, something that used to show off his delicate wrists and sharp collarbones that had since thickened and softened. He yanked on the jeans, which were snug against his thighs and ass, and he had to suck in to button them and then pull the curve of his stomach out of the waistband, letting it flop over top of his pants and pushing hard against his shirt.

He knew he wasn’t that big, but in this outfit, he felt massive, and it sent a little thrill through him, especially knowing how much Harry would love to see it, too.

He made his way down the stairs, breathing a bit hard at how the buttons cut into him. Harry was waiting for him in the doorway of the kitchen, and he waved his hand towards the breakfast nook, signaling for Louis to sit.

“You look gorgeous,” Harry smiled, “And I like the white shirt, too. You’ll probably get messy today. But maybe that’s good.”

Louis smiled, his stomach fluttering a bit.

“So what are you making me today?”

“Well, just one thing, actually,” Harry said.

Louis’s heart sank a bit. One thing, for the whole day? And then Harry disappeared into the kitchen and came back with a platter holding an enormous cheesecake almost completely covered in Oreos, chocolate sauce, and whipped cream. He placed it in front of Louis with reverence, staring at it for a long moment before turning to Louis.

“I spent all last night making this,” Harry beamed, “It’s around twenty thousand calories.”

The two statements hit Louis one after the other, and he blinked.

“Oh,” Louis stammered, “Oh, wow.”

“Yep!” Harry chirped, “And you’re gonna eat it today.”

He kissed Louis’s temple as the other man just stared at the platter, open mouthed.

“Gonna get you a fork,” Harry said, “Are you hungry?”

“I, yeah,” Louis managed.

“Of course you are,” Harry said, “My baby’s always hungry.”

He disappeared once more, and he returned with a fork. He pressed it into Louis’s hand, and then kissed the top of his head.

“Eat up, gorgeous.”

Louis nodded, staring at the feat in front of him. He wasn’t tied up, like he had been the night of the lasagna, but he felt just as much under Harry’s control.

He took a breath, feeling the press of the buttons into his abdomen. He had all day. He could do this. He would do this.

He reached his fork forward, picking up a bite of the cheesecake and placing it on his tongue. It was delicious, as always, so sweet it made his teeth sing, incredibly soft, and rich enough that he could taste the butter.

He easily ate through a full slice, and then another after that. He loved sweets for breakfast, and Harry had trained him for such indulgences with Belgian waffles and chocolate muffins presented to him quite literally on a silver platter. He even managed to polish off another slice, and Harry praised him with a kiss and a hug.

And so, for the rest of the day, the cheesecake was Louis’s constant companion. Anytime he felt the smallest bit of emptiness in his belly, he was back at the table with his fork, digging into the layers of cookies and frosting, picking away at the mammoth plate. Usually Harry worked up in his studio, but he seemed to be lingering around a lot more, either on his laptop or engrossed in his sketchbook, but still taking time to look up at Louis as he ate.

At lunchtime, a third of the cake was gone and Louis’s buttons were so tight he was gasping. He shoved cake into his mouth and then moved to undo his shirt, but Harry’s voice halted him.

“Leave that,” he said firmly, and Louis’s hand dropped immediately. He went back to his cake, sugar-buzzed and obedient.

He returned only an hour and a half later, eager for a few more bites. He didn’t realize until now how much hungrier he was throughout the day, his body trained for constant snacks. He sat down and picked up his fork, Harry sitting nearby watching.

He only had to reach forward a little before he heard a rip and felt pressure release on his stomach.

Louis blinked and looked down and saw there was a very apparent rip in his shirt, right over his stomach. There was also a bit of a gap at the side seam, and when he shifted, the rip widened. He looked up at Harry, his mouth opened, and his boyfriend’s eyes were dark.

“Eat your cake,” he said, his voice deep, and Louis reached for the fork without question.

As he moved around the house, the gaps in his shirt grew, the rips audible and showing more and more of his skin. He also saw how the white fabric was staining, smeared with chocolate and greasy bits of whipped cream. He would be embarrassed by it, but Harry kept giving him the most satisfying looks.

As dinner time approached, there was still a significant amount of cheesecake left, and Harry clucked his tongue.

“I worked so hard on this,” he said, “It better not go to waste.”

Louis’s fork found its way back to the plate.

Eventually, he decided not to leave the table. His brain was a swirl of black and white sugar, his body felt sluggish. There was a new rip under his right arm, and he had to keep breathing around the buttons, which were nothing short of painful now. He groaned as he took another bite, his body protesting, and he rocked forward a little, a hand cradling his stomach as he tried to sooth himself.

He heard the sound, a pop and then a high little ping on the ground, and then felt his stomach surge. Another pop. Another ping. He moaned, moving to the space where the two buttons had flown off, leaving his pale, soft belly exposed to the cool air.

He looked up at Harry and blinked, his vision blurring.

“I think the shirt’s too small,” he said, and then, his hand scrambled for the fork. More cake passed his lips. Harry groaned.

Louis couldn’t tell the difference between the next seconds to minutes to hours. It was all cake, all Harry’s gaze, all the feeling of his shirt ripping, unable to contain his form. His mouth and hand moved on their own in rhythm, working towards the goal as his other hand rubbed his stomach.

Eventually he blinked and rocked forward, and he felt the thick button on his jeans break, hurtling towards the ground. Louis hiccupped and adjusted his hips, his stomach pushing down the zipper of his pants.

He felt Harry’s hand on his belly and he leaned back, accepting a kiss on the head. He hadn’t even known Harry was there. He was too sugar drunk to know anything.

“I’m gonna pop,” he heard himself moan, and Harry soothed him.

“But you just have a little more,” Harry said carefully, “Please. Come on. Make me proud.”

Make Harry proud.

Louis’s mouth lolled open and stayed at way. A hand that wasn’t his fed him, rubbed his belly, slipped his fingers under Louis’s ripped shirt.

“Good. Good. Perfect,” Harry coaxed, “Just a little more now.”

Louis barely heard Harry when he was done. He collapsed on the table, panting, his shirt ripping even more. He thought he felt a rip along his inner thigh, but he didn’t know. He felt Harry’s hands lifting him up, guiding him to the sofa, offering him water.

“Never make me do that again,” Louis wheezed, and he heard Harry laugh.

“Once is all I wanted,” he heard his proud, proud boyfriend say, “And God, were you absolutely spectacular.”

Louis expected a bit more pomp and circumstance, in all honesty.

It still the morning, although Louis had slept in so it was closer to midday. Harry had to shake him awake and Louis immediately groaned and yanked the blankets over his head.

“Not now,” he huffed.

“Up and at ‘em,” Harry said gently, “Come on, honey. Scale.”

“I’m hungry,” Louis protested.

“I know, honey,” Harry sighed, “But we gotta weigh you first.”

“Can’t it wait?”

“If we weigh you after you eat, it might not be accurate,” Harry said, “Come on. I’ll make you whatever you want.”

Louis considered resisting a bit longer, but he could hear the eagerness in Harry’s voice. It was his favorite thing, to see the numbers under Louis’s feet rise.

So Louis rolled out of bed and followed Harry to the bathroom. At Harry’s instruction he stepped up on the scale, not even looking down to read it. He rubbed at his eyes and yawned, blinking weakly as he tried to wake up. The scale beeped under him, evening out, and he waited for Harry to read him the number like he always did.

But there wasn’t anything.

He turned to his side, seeing Harry was still, just staring down.

“Harry?” he asked, “What is it?”

Harry lifted his head, his smile brilliant.

“179.”

Louis blinked.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“So…I’m…”

“You did it, babe,” Harry said, “Well, you went above and beyond, actually.”

“One pound isn’t above and beyond.”

“It is,” Harry insisted, “It is to me.”

He surged forward, wrapping his arms around Louis and giving him a squeeze that made Louis squeak.

“You’re perfect,” Harry breathed out, “Absolutely perfect.”

Louis could only stare down at the number below him, the reality catching up to him.

He had gained thirty-one pounds. He was out of breath, hungry, and covered in stretch marks.

And he had never felt better about himself in his entire life.

After a moment, he stepped down, and let himself be fully hugged by Harry, snuggling into his chest.

“God, wow,” Harry said again, “I’m – I can’t believe this.”

“I know, right?” Louis sighed, “And hey, you helped with the last sixteen. So you can officially claim most of the credit.”

Harry laughed, shaking his head.

“I mean, I’m kind of…sad that it’s over, to be honest,” Harry said, “This has been so fun.”

“Well,” Louis drawled slowly, “I have a whole movie to shoot. Gonna have to keep this up for awhile.”

He patted his stomach and watched how he jiggled.

“You up for helping me with that?” Louis asked, “Can’t get skinny now.”

Harry’s mouth twitched, and he gave Louis a long look before grinning once more.

“I think I would be interested.”

#drabbles #larry fanfiction #larry fan fic #larry fanfic #chubby actor

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namjoonchronicles · 5 years

Text

beginners | nj

↳ genre fluff, domestic, parenthood

↳ words 3.4k

↳ summary Challenges in parenthood are not meant to be a one sided task. sometimes, Namjoon will need some help in raising Koya. And parenthood is not as easy as it seems.

↳ warning none, just a few surprise guests you might not see coming

↳ namjoonchronicles’ honorary taglist @kai-tashi @septemberalien @joon94net @yourlocalalien @snugglemejeon @yoongiseesaw @majestikblue

↳ special mentions this is for @majestikblue for always being supportive of my work, and making me thrive harder and unlock many others creative corners I didn’t know I had

↳ song the daydream 'stepping on the rainy street'

As usual, Koya would wake up by babbling. His tiny feet peeks through the striped baby blue fuzzy blanket. His curly light brown hair, rosy cheeks mushed against his little pillow. He threw his bottle on the side of the mattress and climbed out of the play pen, reconstructed as a bed by his mom. Diapers heavy from overnight use, he waddles to the room next door where his parents sleep in.

"Dada," he knocks air. The door opened slightly, stood ajar, but he never enters. Nobody knows why.

Namjoon stirs and check his phone for time. Hearing Koya calling him from the door made him slip out of bed at once. When he peeks through the gap, Koya is there standing, barely taller than his knees. "You called for me?" he asked, his raspy morning voice was deeper than usual. Koya cranes his neck to look at his ridiculously tall daddy, so Namjoon crouched to carry him up before he falls back on his butt. Koya petite chubby fingers dances on Namjoon's cheeks and the dad puckers his lips for a kiss but Koya tilts his head back so Namjoon peppers kisses on his neck and jaws and cheeks, instead. Blowing air against his skin to make the little one giggle.

This is the life any man ought to live. He feels very lucky.

"Mama..." Koya tilts his head on one side. "Mama's not here, mama went to work," he carried Koya into the bedroom so he could look at the unmade bed and prove that he was telling the truth, "See? It's just you and me, buddy..."

Koya nods and let out a baby gibberish that sounded like a full sentence but isn't. Namjoon is an expert on that, "She'll be home later at 5 pm, as usual... Today, we are going to do some grocery shopping, and you're going to help me. But first..."

Namjoon passed Koya a dinosaur plush while he sat on the ground. Then Namjoon turns his attention to the unmade bed, fluffing the pillows, straightening the sheet and covering it with the neatened duvet. The shade is open and the air humidifier is turned on. Koya is such a well-behaved baby. Namjoon is sure he got that from your side of the family.

Your side of the family, he repeated. Debatable.

Every occasion done with your side of the family surely made its mark in his head. From your screaming aunts, to your deathly silent uncles, and your chaotic cousins, and their children. And their children's children. Namjoon smiled to himself, shaking his head at the thought of it.

Faucets twisted. Tub is steadily filling up with water. Koya is seated on the sink counter under his dad's watchful eye.

"Up..." Namjoon motions his arms above so Koya would follow. Off goes the shirt, pants and the heavy urine-filled diaper. Roll the diapers neatly, refastened it with the sticky tapes, into another biodegradable plastic, and then tied in a knot, until finally, discarded into the actual bin. Koya is lifted into the tub, water reaching up to just below his waist, not too much. Namjoon kneels next to the tub, taking the shower head from it's holder, checking the water temperature with his hands. It mustn't be too hot or too cold. Koya plays with the floating little dinosaurs and doll ducklings, dunking them into the water, squeezing them between his sausage fingers.

"Buddy, you ready for this?" he asked. Koya gaze up to him with big dewy eye and a huge smile. "You ready to get hyped up?" Namjoon made Koya play with the drizzle first before running the shower head above his curly brown hair, now drenched. Koya visibly shudder upon contact and it made Namjoon chuckle. Baby shampoo bottle, where is it. Oh. Squirt a small amount, carefully bubble it up with Koya's hair. Koya splashes the water with his hand, making Namjoon flinch a bit. His glasses mustn't get wet.

"Okay, okay," he doesn't know what he's saying 'OK' for, but he fetched the baby body wash next. He lathers them all over Koya's supple baby skin. It amazes him how it's so soft.

Little hands, and little feet. He lifts the baby's arm to get the armpits washed, and rinse the baby down with running water. He's clumsy, but Koya doesn’t seem to mind. All swaddled and clean in a warm koala towel daddy got for him. Out the bathroom of course, he gets after shower kisses and carried out in Namjoon's arm. Next, powdering the baby. Warm baby oil so he doesn't get cold when they leave the house later. New diaper, three layers of cloth for the weather, khaki trousers and a small matching red beanie like dad. All dressed.

Which he takes off when Namjoon isn't looking.

Namjoon is now preparing his formula milk in the kitchen. He counts up to 3 scoops of milk powder and filled the bottle with lukewarm water. He walks over to Koya in your shared bedroom and does the dance with the formula milk. Spinning and twirling with an idiot big smile on his face.

"Customer, your drink, sir," he said with gusto, complete with chef's kiss. Koya shrieked and gurgled, fetching the bottle with both hands. Namjoon thwarted, "Where did your beanie go?"

Then he disappears into the bathroom, leaving the door open so he could watch Koya drink his formula milk on his baby mattress next to the bed, holding crescent moon plush tightly in one hand, while Namjoon prepares himself for the outing.

Namjoon hurried to brush his teeth, splash water on his face, dry them up and changed to new clothes. He fetched the red beanie from the floor and fastened them on Koya.

"Like daddy's, we're bros aren't we?"

He carries Koya in his arms and walks out.

Koya has exercises in the morning. Down in the apartment's playground. It's Namjoon's favorite past times. He gets to meet chaotic Seokjin, Lily's dad who's now bored because Lily's now attending kindergarten; handsome super-dad Taehyung with two of his girls (Sam & Tati), and counting; young but more responsible dad than they all combined, Jungkook who has a 2 year old girl name Ben; and last but not least, the ever panicking always screaming,forever sleep-deprived Park Jimin who just joined the dad group with his girl, Sona, last January.

Their little house-husband group have morning meetings, like these. Jungkook always makes great coffee. And Seokjin is always generous enough to bring his leftover from last night unless he was fighting with his wife and refused to cook. In those days, Namjoon will have to get something from the convenient store so dads could eat and won't starve because it's a hard life.

"What's up, Jimin?" he greets and meets the lad in the elevator, crossed ankles, hands in pocket.

The poor guy looks like he aged overnight. He has his head leaned against the elevator walls, lulling to Namjoon, carrying Koya.

"Where's your girl?" Namjoon asked. "My mom came and took her to the village last night, she has chicken pox... I hadn't slept in 3 days," Jimin mumbled. "At four months? Tough," Namjoon retorted, "But hey, at least you get some time with the wifey," the taller dad shrugged his shoulder, wiggling his eyebrow at Koya to make him laugh, bouncing the giggly boy. Jimin scoffed tired with a small smile, "I don't know about that man, she's pissed because of work and every time I make a move, she looks like she's going to gnaw me alive." "Isn't that a good thing?" Namjoon knitted his brow at his dear friend and shot a glance outside when the elevator doors open to reveal Seokjin bringing a picnic box and a thermos.

"Do you not have eyes or hands?" Seokjin shot at Jimin, muttering angrily. Being the oldest of the three, Seokjin was always bullying Jimin at any chance he's got. Jimin gathers the picnic box and the bags of plastic wares. "Someone's cranky," Namjoon spat, "Good morning, Seokjin. Say Good Morning to Uncle Seokjin, baby...?" Leaning Koya down to Seokjin's shoulder. His favorite uncle. Koya immediately stretches his arms to Seokjin. Seokjin groans and kissed Koya's chin like the baby is his. Namjoon fetch the thermos from Seokjin in exchange. It's going to be an interesting gathering today because Jungkook just returned from his wife's hometown. They can't wait for him to share pictures and funny events that happened.

"Gah, I miss holding a toddler. When they start talking, I just want to mute them...does that make me a bad daddy?" Seokjin swaddles Koya, turning side to side while Koya shrieks excitedly. Namjoon took the chance to thumb Koya's rosy cheeks and cooing at him from behind Seokjin, puckering his lips, making kissing sound and Jimin smiling fondly.

"Lily's so big now, she's doing math effortlessly and I'm certain that's from her side of the family," Seokjin walks out with Koya first when the elevator reaches the ground floor to Jungkook panicking face, carrying Ben on his side, rushing himself into the lift as the three got out.

"What's wrong with you?" "Take Ben. I think I forgot to turn the stove off, I think," he breathily say. Jimin fetches Ben by the hand. She wraps her hand around his pinkie and watched her dad panicked face in utter calmness expression on hers. Nothing scares her. Jungkook raised her well.

Namjoon and Jimin glances over their shoulder at Jungkook stabbing the buttons, repeatedly.

At the playground, Koya and Ben begins with the slides first. The dads are sitting on the benches, munching on their long-awaited breakfast, with their knees spread wide, sitting in silence until Jungkook re-emerges from the lobby and into the open air playground, wearing black sweatshirt and pants, hair a little longer than last week. It passes his brows, in length and very soft. He helps Ben to reach the monkey bars.

"...Had anyone seen Taehyung?" Namjoon suddenly asked, shoving another rice rolls into his mouth.

"No..." "...nope."

"You think he's okay?" Namjoon darts his attention ahead where his son is. "Probably expecting baby number 6," Seokjin snickers. "I heard they got in a fight before..." Jimin leans forward, looking to the side where his older brothers are.

Namjoon and Seokjin both had different reactions but can be summarize to one word: They squawked.

"They always get into a fight, and then bam!" Namjoon motions an explosion with his hands, "He goes: So uhh, my wife's 3 months pregnant; with his boxy smile and perfect hair." "Is that a normal thing for marriage couple? Like do you guys like fight and then make love?" Jimin asked, earnestly, genuinely curious.

"What do you mean that you don't?" Namjoon frowned in a glimpse, carried Koya to his lap and cleaned his hand since he fell on the sand bed, with the wet wipes Seokjin passed nonchalantly.

"Namjoon's wife is a whole different breed, my wife didn't touch me at all after Lily came out, and then she devoured me whole. And now it's a regular thing. We don't have schedules or anything like that, though," Seokjin answered, leaning back and relaxed.

Finding Seokjin and Namjoon's answer to be satisfying,Jimin turns to Jungkook who is now at the swing, pushing Ben.

"What about you, Jungkook?" "Me? About what?" Jungkook yells from afar. "Do you fight with your wife and then make love to her?"

Jungkook's ears turn bright red. How could he ask something so personal, out in the open like that? Does he not know shame?

"Sometimes?" Jungkook crumpled his face and joined the dads on the bleacher, fetching the newly poured coffee from Seokjin, as if he's not sure of his answers. He pauses and did some thinking, but nothing much came out. Because sex is something common but also not very common in his household?

"It really depends on her mood though..." Jungkook took a noisy sip from the steaming coffee. Namjoon nods. Jimin seems to be bothered by it.

"But Taehyung has a lot to worry about, wife's a CEO," Seokjin sighs. "Makes good money too..." Namjoon shot. "The assistant is a guy, Taehyung said he's attractive..." Jungkook passed. "Sucks," Jimin pursed his lips.

All the dads nod in agreement.

It's tough to be a house husband. Dealing with the stigmas, the condescending tone that comes with the status, having your manhood challenged and finding yourself ridiculed solely because you don't earn for the family. The criticism is vicious, coming from your own family member. All they have is themselves, their partner and friends who are under the same pressure. Of having kids, of becoming a parent, of having a working and successful wife. Constantly renewing self-worth and value by means of being a good husband and a father. while getting almost nothing in return accept the promise of raising well behaving children. Reassurance could only do so much. Roles are reversed and the men has to learn from scratch how to manage a household. Holidays are rare and emotions are constantly in a state of turmoil.

"So how did the village trip go?" Namjoon asked Jungkook. Jungkook's face visibly brightens up. Now he can show off the pictures he took and his talent as a photographer. His wife's village had a majestic sea spread, and beautiful sunset. The whole thing looks like Windows wallpaper shot.

Close to 10 am, Namjoon excused himself and little Koya to get the grocery started with the list you wrote down. Diapers, talcum powders, veggies, beefs, chicken thighs. Koya is seated on the baby chair in the kart, while Namjoon check the ingredient of a new baby food. The pack has slimy green and doesn't look appetizing at all.

"Wow, even I wouldn't eat that..." Namjoon commented. He places the pack back and take the usual one he buys. Carrots, spinach, chicken breast. Shopping is faster when there's a list and he stick religiously to it. He pushed the cart and passed by an electronic store. There he saw a new vacuum. He pouted and stood idly, before taking a picture of it. He sends them to you.

"I don't need anything else on my birthday, just this... please," he added a crying emoticon at the end. Sent. Delivered. Read.

Wife is typing.... Wife is typing....

"Okay sweetie :) shopping?"

Namjoon grins to the phone and began typing, but Koya started whimpering. He is taking off his shoes so Namjoon shove his phone into the back pocket in a hurry. Koya is bored. So Namjoon takes out the house key for him to play with while he chooses chicken breast by the freezer corner. He settles with one and grabbed a scallion on his way out. He stood by the self-checkout payment counter and scanned the things carefully. Koya is still playing with the keys. Last item, and then we're heading home, he thought.

When they got to the block of their home, at the lobby, Koya isn't playing with the keys anymore. That's when Namjoon's nightmare began.

"Baby, where's the key? Where's our house key, buddy?" Namjoon asked, searching his pocket and Koya's but Koya just pointed away at the birds he heard outside. Namjoon on the other hand is panicking while keeping an outwardly calm demeanor.

This can't be. He has to call his wife.

"Hey!" "Hey, hun. I'm at the lobby..." "Is there something wrong?" your cheerful voice switches to a concerned one. "Yeah, ha ha," Namjoon chuckles nervously, "See, I gave Koya the house key he dropped it midway here and now we can't get into the lift." "Oh shoot," you smacked your lips together, pinching your hips while pressing the phone to your ear standing by your work desk, "I'm going to see what I can do, if I can leave,"pausing, you remembered that the afternoon meeting was cancelled so you could leave for a bit, "Okay, don't worry, I'm coming," you hurried to say and the call ends.

Twenty minutes later, you walked in your pastel blue pumps and light beige dress, wearing a long black coat and ballerina bun hair. Your Pandora bracelets jingle and ran mid forearm when you tuck your baby hair behind your ear making your way into the lobby. Namjoon beams and Koya gets visibly excited, grabbing air and leaning over for his mommy.

"Hello boys," you sang and took Koya from Namjoon, brushing your lips on your husband first and then your baby. Namjoon fetch the house key from you and you turned to the apartment manager, to thank him.

"So can we have the door set changed today?" you asked. "Yes, madam... not a problem," he answered.

Namjoon walks in the elevator and held the door for you while carrying a bag of groceries. He leans back to the elevator wall while you bopped Koya's nose, cooing him.

"You look pretty today," Namjoon presses his smile and his little dimple show. "Of course, I look pretty everyday," you spoke in gurgles at your son even as you're talking to your husband. "How's work?" he asked. "Not too hectic as it usually is, so I may head home early," you cocked an eyebrow at him and smirked.

That's good news. The view of your wedding ring, glittering as you held Koya up sends his heart racing, knowing that he bought it. It still feel surreal even after Koya's birth. Now he's turning two in September. At the beginning of the relationship, it seemed that this future he seeks for, felt impossible. He still remembers how you said that you weren't his ideal type, and the fear of rejection rendered you silent, in love with him from a corner. That you weren't enough, that you know he can find someone better.

And here you are, being everything he ever wished for, prayed for, dreamt of.

Making fun of Koya falling asleep is your favorite past-time. Both of you speaking in hushes.

"Look at how he is still chewing when he could barely open his eyes," you leaned your chin on Namjoon's shoulder from behind. Your husband feeding Koya his daily spinach intake from the dining chair. "His cheeks," Namjoon snickered and pointed out, eyes turning to thin slits as he chuckles.

Koya finally leans his head back and fall asleep for good. Namjoon removes him from the baby chair and let him sleep in his bed pen after cleaning his face and hands. Namjoon doesn't leave until he presses his lips on the little one's head, and then he stares fondly at him while kneeling by the pen, sitting on his heels for a bit. You leaned on the door frame crossing your arm. A faint smile playing on your lips at the view of your husband carrying his usual duties. As if he felt your eyes on him, he glanced at you with a secretive smile. He cocks an eyebrow while sucking his cheek in, standing up.

"What's that look for?" he spoke in whispers, against you, pushing you out of Koya's room with his advances. "What look?" you grinned.

"That look, you gave me a look..." "I did not give you a look?" "Yes you did..."

This silly conversation isn't going anywhere so you made him bow down a little to whisper in his ear. Your lips brushing on them, teasingly with every word you said, "I think you look extra sexy today." You pushed back to enjoy the look on his face as you bite your smile.

He licked his lips and placed his arm around your waist to pull you close and press your body on his.

"Is that so?" "And I think we should mess up the bed." "Okay, but you're gonna call your co-workers and say there's an emergency at home." "Oh? And what kind of emergency should I say?" "We'll figure it out. After." . . . . Namjoon's shirt rode up to reveal his back, your hands at the brims, while you lay underneath him. Sharing a searing, heated, hungry kiss that grows more and more desperate. Arms around his neck. Knees digging into the mattress, staying awfully quiet because you don't want Koya to come awake. Cradling your back with his arm as he brought you down, Namjoon moans into the kiss, letting out a shaky sigh through his nose, brows furrowed in concentration until...

Ding-dong.

"Door set change, ma'am?"

Namjoon and you shot your heads at the door's direction at the same time. Damn it.

copyright © 2019 namjoonchronicles do not repost, this is the foundation of something I’d like to call a house husband universe, and I plan to make more in the future for each of the dad’s. You can say that it sort of merge with taehyung’s ‘outnumbered’, seokjin’s ‘marriage is’ and jimin’s ‘perfectly wrong’ universe... curious why the children’s name the way they are? talk to me

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medeafive · 4 years

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Blood and Stone -04

Masterpost

"Look, I don't like saying it," Sam suggests. "But that might just be Stockholm syndrome."

"It's definitely not Stockholm syndrome," she returns angrily. "Fuck off. I'm just trying to get us all out alive, thank you very much."

"Sounds like it though," Sam insists calmly. "You're literally empathizing with the guy who keeps kidnapping you."

"I still think he's lying," Clint throws in, putting his fork down and leaning back. "And we shouldn't trust him."

"I've never heard of Schmidt recruiting into his guard," Pepper throws in. "Since, you know, the forties. Is that even plausible?"

"If there actually is mind control involved?" Bruce points out. "Why not. But I still doubt it. I mean, how would that even work, neurologically? You'd have to trigger a strong emotional reaction with just a thought ."

"As I said," Tony adds. "I still think he's hitting on you."

Bruce blushes, stabbing around his salad. "He's not hitting on me," she hisses back. "You wanna play that through? He could just make me. Not like I could stop him."

"And then you'd put a bullet through your skull," Clint remarks coldly. "No baby. It's far-fetched, I agree, but he clearly gets something out of manipulating you."

"He's not- I wouldn't fall for that," she argues back. "I'm really not gullible."

"You're lonely, though," Sam adds quietly, flicking a fly away.

Clean punch. Knocks her back. "I'm- what?"

Sam huffs. "You've been here for almost two years but you do your damnedest not to let anyone close. You don't wanna talk about anything private, I get it, it's dark, but don't tell me that's fun, never opening up to anyone about anything. And along comes a fucking vampire who claims to understand you, whether he's lying or not, and you just want to believe him."

"Alright, alright," Fury interrupts before the awkward silence settles in. "Putting the personal stuff aside. I think our best option is actually to trust him."

"Excuse me." Tony rubs his ears demonstratively. "I think I misheard. Did you just say trust ?"

"Shut up, Stark, I don't like it either," Fury states. "But Romanoff's right. We're not realistically going to kill him. And even if, who knows how many other people he kills before that. We're also not letting anyone turn into a vampire. So the best chance we have is actually to convince him not to murder us, or at least get enough of his trust so we can kill him."

"I agree." Pepper leans her elbows on the table. "It's not a good option but it's the best we have. And Natasha can best assess the risk, so she should decide whether she's willing to take it." She waits and snorts. "Come on, say it. I know you all disagree."

"I don't," Sam says. "I don't like it but I see your point."

"Do you even listen to yourself?" Clint asks. "Convince the killing machine not to kill us? Just because he's playing nice? Why would he do that?"

"Yeah," Tony agrees. "You say you don't want to throw her to the vampires, but you're literally throwing her at the vampire."

Pepper snorts. "Oh, come on. Nobody's throwing her anywhere. This is just Bobbi all over again."

"Could you not ," Clint returns sourly.

"Well, since I'm not a team player anyway," Natasha points out coldly. "Why would I listen to any of you?"

"Cut it, all of you," Fury demands. "This is not a nice situation, very dangerous, bla bla bla, we're going to do it. End of discussion."

"We could give her a tracker," Bruce says quietly. "Put it in the suit. Then we'd know where she is at least."

"Oh yeah," Tony agrees. "Monitor a bunch of vitals, too. That should give us a sense of danger."

See , Fury's look says. "Well. Last chance to back out, Romanoff."

"No," Natasha replies. "I'm good."

"Yeah, Fury put all of our shifts together, except for one," Pepper remarks. "Hope you don't mind. He's a little… clumsy about that sort of thing, though I generally would not associate the word clumsy with him."

"Should be fine," Natasha says. "Wanna cross the river?"

Pepper grins. "Risky. I like it, let's go."

They walk over to Smíchov, which is generally more risky due to its closeness to the castle but not too risky. The 'vampires can't cross flowing waters' is obviously bullshit but they do tend to keep to their safe side. It's too many of them to clean out the West side of the Vltava, at least for now.

"They were together, right?" Natasha asks. "Clint and that Bobbi woman."

Pepper snorts. "Yeah, if you were wondering why Clint was so cold to you at first. Bobbi was a tracker too. Worked together a lot. Had their issues, though, always."

"And then she left," Natasha points out.

"It can be a bit of a sausage fest around here," Pepper reminds her. "I wasn't going out in the field back then, so Bobbi was the only one. They got their macho thing on of not allowing her to do anything too dangerous, which she hated, for personal reasons."

"It's just a dangerous job," Natasha remarks. "Okay, let's be quiet for now."

It's quiet, as always. Every fucking night. Pepper has the ventail of her helmet up to see better, though Natasha still thinks it would impair her field of vision. They slip through the dark streets and alleys, listening mostly. Her senses don't go off, either. Sometimes, there's just nothing. Most times.

"Did they break up because of that?" Natasha whispers. "Because of work issues?"

Pepper leans against a wall, suit crunching the concrete slightly. "Yes. There was… I think there was always a vague expectation that Clint wanted to retire eventually, move somewhere quiet, have a family, that sort of thing. Bobbi didn't, at least not yet. So as long as the vampire situation got worse and worse, they were just not going to have that."

"What about you and Tony, though?" Natasha asks. "Are you going to retire?"

Pepper snorts softly. "No time soon. And that's okay. You know, we weren't together before this whole thing. I worked for him, actually. Vampires really turn everything on its head."

This is really hitting closer and closer home. "Let's move on."

They cross Arbesovo náměstí, passing an awful amount of rats. The nocturnal rodents really have field nights, when they know they can come out and not be disturbed. Vampires probably also think they're disgusting, so no danger from that side either. "There used to be a horror bar here," Pepper remarks. "For the tourists, brand new. Somehow, nobody finds that funny now."

"It's really quiet today," Natasha remarks. "Wanna move even further North?"

"Just a little," Pepper agrees. "I don't think we should get to Charles bridge."

"Let's move closer to the river," Natasha suggests.

They get almost to the French embassy, which is probably farther than Pepper wanted, when her hair begins to stand. She gives Pepper a sign so she closes the helmet, on alert. There's no sounds, no cars, no animal noises, yet she's sure there's something. They went too far, she's not as familiar with the area anymore. There's that wall with the graffiti, wrong direction, they slowly, carefully, quietly retreat. The shadows are dangerous around here. They turn the corner and there's a guy on the street, dressed black, just waiting for them. He has a jagged knife. Hunting party. Fuck .

The guy grins and another vampire slips out of the side alley, an ageless woman with curly black hair. There's only the way forward, blocked, and the way back, which would only bring them closer to the Castle. Two is manageable, even if they're from a hunting party, but who knows how many more there are. Pepper lifts an arm, ready to shoot, but this is really not a fight they want.

Maybe they can cross through to Kampa somehow, some small passage between the buildings, run, all the doors will be barred though, trying costs time they don't have. The vampire woman sneers at them, the other one joining, daring them. They're essentially cornered. "Smart ideas?" Natasha asks.

"You're just like Tony ," Pepper's mechanical voice hisses.

Swoosh.

The vampire startles, staring up at the roof where the black cloak has just landed. Doesn't look pleased. Doesn't look anything, really. The vampiress bares her fangs at him, which he returns, gold shining in the moonlight. She cowers, scared. The guy spits out. "Fine. Let's go."

They retreat slowly, not turning their back, then they hear them running off. More than two. Three, at least. Looking up, the black cloak is gone. Natasha exhales. " Fuck that guy."

"Do you want to see whether you can catch him?" Pepper asks. "I'll meet you on Střelecký ostrov."

"Deal," Natasha agrees. "I'll see you."

She walks a little South, tries Kampa, back North, passes the French embassy and the graffiti wall but no fucking sign. It's completely quiet, no vampires, no hunting parties, no nothing. Frustrated, she returns South and crosses the bridge halfway. Pepper's waiting down there. "Gone. Let's get back to Old Town."

Pepper's armor is quite loud on the stone stairs. "It looks like he doesn't want to meet you."

Natasha snorts. "Yeah, looks like I pissed him off last time. Come on, let's get back before they get their panties in a twist again."

Kick punch twist.

"I'd worry less if you were less reckless," Clint grunts out.

Punch punch elbow strike. He hits her with an uppercut that she dodges easily. "Totally your responsibility," she breathes. "Taking care of me. Fuck you."

The double turning kick's not unexpected but it still throws her off balance. He raises his fists tauntingly. "You suck at it, though."

"I'm alive ," she returns, jumping at him and knocking him down. "Grow up. It's really-"

He tries to knock her off but she's too strong, pressing her knee into his chest until he groans and taps out. She gets up, swiping hair out of her sweaty forehead, catching her breath.

"Hey Romanoff," Tony remarks, strolling in. "Next time you go on a suicide trip, do it without my girlfriend, thank you."

She gives him the finger, grabbing a water bottle and downing that. Clint picks himself up slowly. "I'm serious," Tony repeats, leaning on the rope. "You really got us worried. Brucey almost went green when he heard."

She snorts, slipping out of the ring. "I get that one," Tony continues without the slightest care. "It just does something to a guy when he constantly has to fumble around your almost naked body. Can't blame him."

"Shut the fuck up," she hisses at him. "I swear to God, I'm murdering one of you sooner or later."

"Yeah," Clint remarks. "If you don't get killed first."

She wanders around alone at night again, muttering under her breath like a crazy person. If he doesn't show up again, she swears to God. She decides to turn right before the Central Station towards Wenceslas Square.

The tower is pretty uncomfortable to be in right now and she was anxious to get out. Fury, to her surprise, didn't want anything from her, just saying that he trusts her judgment and her decisions. Unlike other people. And now she's out alone.

The black cloak's sitting on a bench on Wenceslas Square, uncharacteristically undramatic. She walks over. "Hi."

"Hi," he replies. "You're not going to decide in the next few days, are you."

She shakes her head. He sighs, closing his eyes. "I'll have to go back soon. Figure out what to tell them."

She sits down on the same bench. "Yeah. Thanks."

"He probably doesn't expect you to flip so soon anyway," he mutters. "You're a hunter after all. Not going to turn that around that quickly."

She moves a little closer. "Sure. But thanks, really, it… means a lot to me."

He grins suddenly. "Oh, I see what you're doing. No."

She reels back as if he slapped her. The smile drops from his face. "Oh."

She clears her throat, staring down at the cobblestone. "What are you going to tell them?"

"That you're stubborn as fuck but I'd give you another chance," he replies. "I hope you take it."

She doesn't reply. She could never turn into a vampire, could she? Become like him? A monster?

"Try not to get killed while I'm away," he adds. "Rumlow should know not to touch you but he can't always keep everyone in line."

"Fuck that guy," she mutters. "Do you go there? The Castle?"

"Sometimes," he admits. "They're different, though. I don't really fit in."

"Poor you," she remarks sarcastically. "No, really. What do you do all the time, when you're not stalking me?"

"Sleep," he says. "The whole day. At night, try to track down young vampires and vaguely follow you around."

"So you do sleep," she states. "A lot, too."

"Does that surprise you?" he asks. "I'm not dead, you know."

"Yeah, you kinda are, though," she points out. "No offense. I'll try not to die, too, promise."

"Well, good." He shifts. "I don't want you to get hurt."

She snorts. "Other than turning me into a monster, but okay. Do you remember that, turning? Anything?"

"I don't remember turning," he replies. "Too painful, I guess. I mostly remember after. Most of the time in hiding, I was sleeping, so it's not all that long ago for me."

"1993 was forever ago," she insists. "Trust me."

"Really changed your life, didn't it," he remarks.

"I was going to study to become an engineer," she blurts out. "Or a teacher. You know, when the Soviet Union started breaking, it was… it was super scary, the ground disappearing under your feet, but it was also hopeful, almost ecstatic. Everything suddenly seemed possible."

"Sorry, but I really can't imagine you as a teacher," he states. "Yeah. Including a vampire outbreak?"

She snorts. "Not that. I started studying English, to have all the possibilities that came with, and then in 1993, when the outbreak started… Everything gone. The year was tough already before, and suddenly there was no silver lining anymore. Like a war. And I joined a group of hunters, like a soldier."

"With Shostakov," he remarks. "And Petrovich."

He knows way too much. "We were going to get married," she explains. "Before. But then, that road shut down completely and we were just going to fight this war and probably die doing it. We found this group of Afghanistan veterans, including Ivan, some of the only people who really seemed to know what they were doing. They wouldn't take us at first, because we were oh so young and we had that supposedly bright future, but as matters got worse everywhere, they relented. So we never married and I got sterilized and… yeah, we fought. And then I killed him."

"I'm sorry," he says. "You know, I… I should probably tell you something."

Her ears start ringing. "What?"

He sighs. "I started the outbreak in Russia."

She starts laughing, shocked, stopping just as quick. "You what ?"

"When Schmidt decided the time was right," he explains hesitantly. "Everyone had their role. I was sent to Russia. I was ordered to Russia."

She bites her tongue accidentally. "How many?"

"What?" he asks uncomfortably.

"How many people did you bite?" she snaps. "How many people did you have to bite to ruin my life ? Everyone's life?"

He sighs. "Eight in Moscow. Four in Saint Petersburg. I thought that would be enough."

" Hell it was enough!" She shakes her head to clear it. "You really bit twelve people and that's why I could never have anything I wanted?"

It comes out more vulnerable than she wanted so she bites her tongue and shuts up. "There might have been others I don't know about," he admits quietly. "Are you… are you mad?"

"No," she returns, getting on her feet. "No. Yes. No. You know what, I- yes. I don't know. I think I'll go back."

He gets up as well. "Take care. Really."

Fuck you , she almost says. I wouldn't have to take care if not for you . "Yes. Uh. I'll go. Just- whatever."

She almost runs back to the tower.

"You don't drink usually," Sam points out, sitting down on a chair like a normal person instead of lying down on the table with a bottle of vodka.

She continues staring up. "You ever wonder what would have happened if the vampire plague never happened?"

"Honestly," he remarks. "For me, probably nothing great. Why?"

"What did you wanna be?" she insists. "Come on, you must have had some idea."

"I don't know, I kind of wanted to do social work," Sam says. "Teaching or something with teenagers. Barely got my degree before there were other issues, though."

"I wanted to work," she says. "I wanted to have a family. I wanted everything . And instead I got this. "

"Oh," Sam remarks. "So you're doing self-pity. No, thanks, I really don't drink."

She snorts, rolling onto her side. "Can I tell you something without you accusing me of Stockholm syndrome or some bullshit?"

Sam snorts. "I'm not accusing you. I do feel obliged to point out potential biases you might have, though. But go on, I won't judge you."

"I kinda empathize with him," she admits. "But I wanna kill him so bad ."

Sam grins. "Okay. What's the occasion?"

"He literally infected all of Russia," she states. "Can you imagine? None of us would be here for any of this. It might be- not fairytales and pony parties but good. Calm. We wouldn't have to do this ."

"Totally fair to be mad about that," Sam acknowledges. "I should just point out that killing him now won't really change that and thus might not feel as satisfying as you hope. But, I mean, I'm not going to stop you."

She snorts, turning on her back again. "Yeah, I know. I can't, either. But man ."

"You'll figure it out," Sam assures her. "I'd also prefer being a street worker or something, but I guess you just have to deal with whatever comes your way. Can't dodge a vampire epidemic, to quote Fury."

She snorts, sitting up. "Oh yeah. Can't dodge an epidemic."

#blood and stone #buckynat #vampire au #natasha romanoff #black widow #bucky barnes #winter soldier #my writing #fanfic

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desertdollranch · 5 years

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How to restore and care for your American Girl doll’s curly hair

Hair issues can be some of the most common, most intimidating, and yet sometimes some of the easiest doll repairs you can do on an American Girl doll.

Curly hair, especially, can be challenging to handle. They can’t be brushed the way straight hair can, and are a little more prone to becoming frizzy and out of control. Often, secondhand dolls can come to you with curls that seem to be lost forever.

But that may not always be the case. Curls, waves, and ringlets can, in most cases, be easily brought back.

Pictured above is Janelle, my mom’s Truly Me #26. Janelle came to her with hair that had been almost completely chopped off. My mom liked it for a while, but then after seeing someone else’s #26 with beautiful curls, changed her mind and decided she wanted her original curls back. I found her an uncut replacement wig, but as it was sold in TLC condition, it was terribly messy. So I sat down with it and worked through it until it regained its original tight, shiny ringlets. After getting the hang of it, this turned out to be one of the easiest repairs I’ve done on a doll.

Below the cut, I’ll cover a few methods for caring for curly hair, maintaining curls, and restoring curls that have been lost.

First: here’s what I recommend as a kit for maintaining doll hair!

The two most important things are the wire wig hairbrush and the blue spray bottle filled with water. You should never, ever brush your doll’s hair with anything but a wire brush, and always use water when you brush. Braid spray, seen on the left, is also a good idea to have in addition to a spray bottle of water. It keeps the wig healthy and soft.

I also have curlers (a ten pack but the other ones are in Saige’s hair at the time of the picture), colorful hair bands, barrettes, clear elastic bands, and a toothbrush. The toothbrush is to gently brush and smooth the ends of each curl. It’s used only for doll hair, to keep the bristles straight and undamaged. I’ll demonstrate how I use it later on. Bobby pins are also in my kit, but I can’t find the bag that they’re in (typical of me to lose things like that).

This is also a good kit to have for dolls with straight hair, especially if you like to play with hairstyles.

As of July 2019, I have fifteen of the 18-inch American Girl dolls, and two of the 14-inch Wellie Wishers. Out of everyone, eight of them have curly hair, and each one's hair is quite different from the others.

From left to right: Caroline, Rebecca, Cécile, Kanani, Saige (who just had her curls redone which is why they’re wet, Truly Me #55 Sierra, Yerin (Wellie Wisher Emerson), and Willa.

But I’ll get to them later, because first I will be discussing....

1. Curly Ringlets.

This is such a beautiful hair style. It’s extremely easy to maintain once your doll has it, since there’s no brushing required and they don’t get messy very easily.

This method works for Truly Me #26, #44, #46, #58, #67, and Girl of the Year 2017 Gabriela McBride. It may work on Cécile dolls depending on how tight her curls are; Cécile dolls were made with wigs that have anywhere from loose ringlets to tight sausage curls or somewhere in between. I may do a separate post about her hair in the future.

Poor Janelle. She was so happy to get a new wig, but not so thrilled to see that it was a mess. But I could still see the remnants of the original curls, so I knew that all was not lost!

The first thing I did was to separate the hair into small sections, and pull it tight.

Then I spritzed it with a bit of braid spray.

Then I brushed it out completely, carefully removing the tangles by starting at the bottom and working my way up. This may take a while depending on how tangled the hair is.

When it was all brushed out, I twisted it tightly in the direction of the curl, which is counterclockwise.

This is where the toothbrush comes in handy. I used it to smooth and detangle the very ends of the curl.

I brush it AROUND my finger and in the DIRECTION of the natural curl.

Then I let go of the twisted lock of hair, and let it spring loose.

And I continued on to the next section of hair, and repeated.

That’s it! That’s all there is to it!

You can repeat the twisting process to maintain the curls if they get a little messy. You shouldn’t need to brush them out regularly. Janelle got her hair done in March and still hasn’t needed any fixing of them since.

2. Maintaining Loose Curls.

This is a common hair style on a lot of dolls, from historical to Girl of the Year to Truly Me. Dolls with big and loose curls, like Caroline, Maryellen, and Lanie can benefit from this method. This is for dolls who have their original curls intact, but need them looking like new again. For dolls that have lost their original curls, either through heat treatment or if the hair is just too matted to brush out, that is discussed in the next section.

I use this method as a maintenance for some of my curly girls like Saige and Sierra (#55) whose hair gets messy easily. Brushing it out alone does not work well in keeping the curls looking nice, so I regularly re-curl it.

This also works on dolls with straight hair who want to have a shot at some big curls.

For this, we’ll use foam curlers. I got a ten-pack from Dollar Tree. They’re fairly inexpensive elsewhere. But you can use any kind of curlers, as long as they haven’t been used on human hair previously. I do not recommend using a curling iron since it’s easy for that to go badly and to damage the hair.

The first steps are the same as the above method: Spritz with water or braid spray, brush out any tangles in the curl while following the direction that the hair naturally curls, and use a toothbrush to smooth the ends.

Then put the curler on and curl it in the direction of the curl.

Secure it, and let it sit for a few hours (for dolls with naturally curly hair) or for at least overnight (for naturally straight hair). For dolls with straight hair, the longer you leave in the curlers, the longer the curls will remain. Leaving them in for a month or two will give the strongest hold.

When you take out the curler, you’ll have these big ringlets.

You can leave them as is or run your fingers through them to separate them into smaller curls.

Which is how I like it on my dolls.

2a. Short Curls

The above method also works on short curly hair like what #21 has! No need for curlers. It’s easy enough to spritz and gently brush out the sections of hair and curl them around your finger.

And that’s all it needs!

3. Setting permanent curls

If your doll’s hair is just too matted and frizzy that you can’t even brush through it, or the curls are lost due to heat styling or damage, then you can set the curls permanently. Here’s Marina (my mom’s custom Caroline who got a new wig after this) showing off her hair that was so tangled that it could not be brushed through enough to restore the curls.

Brush the hair out as much as you can, and then follow my tutorial for de-frizzing doll hair. You need the hair to be as straight and soft as possible.

Then put it up in curlers. However many you use depends on how big (fewer curlers) or small (more curlers) you want the curls to be.

Willa is having hers done in three sections for bigger curls. Marina is having hers done with six curlers.

Once they’re in curlers, you’ll basically do the same thing you did when you straightened the hair.

To sum up: Bring a pot of water to boil. While you wait, get a bowl of ice water ready. Turn off the heat, and dip the hair in hot water for a few seconds, just long enough to get it thoroughly wet, then dip it into cold water. The cold water will keep the hair from melting.

Repeat the dunk three times. Dip the doll’s hair into hot water, let sit a few seconds, dip into cold water. Try not to get the scalp too wet and definitely don’t get their eyes wet.

Take out the curlers carefully and let the hair dry naturally.

(I ended up having to straighten Willa’s hair again so I could trim the uneven side. Marina’s wig was taken off and put up for sale).

You can maintain these curls with either of the previous methods.

#doll care #doll repair #doll hair

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crazy-little-cool-cat · 5 years

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Hand in Glove - Chapter 19 | Ben Hardy x OFC

A/N: Well, life is being hella weird lately which makes me write painfully slow but all hail the gods of the sore throats because it finally gave me the time to sit my potato ass down and finish writing this chapter! Some of this chapter is based off of a horrible experience I’ve had last Thursday, so please read the warnings carefully because some of it might be triggering. So, this time we have the perfect mix of anxiety and fluff. Cheers!

Word Count: ~4K

Warnings: BIG FAT TRIGGER WARNING - Almost-sexual-assault. If you’ve ever been in this situation, this chapter might now be a good idea. Read at your own risk. Also, Joe/Annie shenanigans and lots of Rory.

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13, Chapter 14 , Chapter 15 , Chapter 16 , Chapter 17 , Chapter 18

Annie pushed the stroller along, rambling on to Rory to distract herself from what was about to happen. It was a beautiful, late-summer day. A slow breeze caressed her skin and blew the skirt of her yellow sun-dress. If it were any other day, Annie would bask in the sunshine, sit on a bench and indulge in some people-watching while Frankie ran about and Rory cooed at the birds flying around.

Jamie sat on a bench, shaded by a tree. He stared intently in the direction Annie was supposed to arrive in, trying to run every possible scenario in his mind. In his imagination, he expected to see an exhausted, rundown version of her. When she rounded the corner, however, all he could think of was sunshine.

He stood up to greet her, although she was still rather far away. He wore his favourite t-shirt - a grey, Heineken logo tee with the sleeves cut off, showing off his toned arms. His mop of curly auburn hair blew in the light wind. With board-shorts and flip-flops, he looked so out of place.

They both exchanged awkward smiles as Annie approached. Annie glanced down and noticed Rory had fallen asleep, so she pulled the sun-visor down to give her daughter some privacy and shade.

“Are you sure you recently had a baby?” Jamie broke the silence when Annie was close enough, a friendly grin on his face.

“Almost three months ago, yes.” Annie smiled back.

They stood in front of each other. A tense silence engulfed them. Jamie shrugged awkwardly and walked over to Annie’s side, tentatively wrapping an arm around her shoulders in a very uncomfortable side hug. Annie leaned in for a split second, a nervous chuckle following.

“Well, this is awkward.” Jamie dropped his hand and sat on the bench.

“Yeah? Well.” Annie followed and pulled the stroller closer to her. “Whose fault is that?”

“Hey!” Jamie held up both of his hands in surrender. “I come in peace!”

“You really messed everything up, you know.”

“Thanks.”

“What were you thinking?”

“I wasn’t, clearly.” Jamie finally looked into Annie’s eyes. “I misread the situation. I -”

“Shut up.” Annie snapped. “Those are pathetic excuses.”

“I really am sorry for what I said.” Jamie spoke after a long, uncomfortable silence. “I know I shouldn’t have. I also shouldn’t have gone and drunk-tweeted about you for months. I shouldn’t have acted out like that. It was stupid.” He scuffed his shoe in the dirt. “Guess I just wanted your attention.”

“Did I lead you on, in any way?” Annie’s voice broke slightly. “Was it my fault?”

“I…” Jamie sighed. “No. It wasn’t your fault.”

“Where do we go from here, then?” Annie looked up at his electric blue eyes. “You can’t leave the show.”

Just then, Rory stirred. Her eyes fluttered open and saw her mum looking down at her. With waving fists, she started fussing about in her stroller.

“May I?” Jamie asked, pointing at the stroller.

Annie shrugged and picked Rory up gently. She pressed a kiss to Rory’s cheek, her lips smacking noisily. Rory giggled and kicked happily before she was passed on to Jamie.

He held her carefully and looked at her intently. She was a cute baby, that much was certain. He brought her closer to him, smiling gently at her playful babbling. She quickly took a lock of his hair and twisted it around her little fingers. Much like her mum often did at every chance she had.

“Well, she’s definitely your daughter.”

“Jamie,” Annie tugged at the hem of her dress, “I don’t… Just… don’t leave the show, you moron. Okay?”

###

Ben stood at the door to the garden, holding a tall glass of fruity smoothies in each hand. He wished he could somehow capture the moment in front of him: Rory laying on her back in a kiddie-pool, splashing around happily in the afternoon sun, with Annie keeping a close eye right next to her, wearing her favourite purple bikini top and one of Gwilym’s running shorts.

As if she could feel Ben’s eyes drilling holes into her form, Annie turned and flashed Ben a bright smile. He truly felt it could blind him right then and there. The colourful parasol Ben had placed to protect his favorite girls cast a rainbow coloured shadow over Annie’s shoulders. Her legs, however, were stretched out and away from the shade.

“You’re setting such a bad example for Rory!” Ben scolded jokingly as he approached her. “At least tell me you put on some sunblock?”

“Christ, fatherhood has made you so uptight!” Annie rolled her eyes playfully before grabbing the sunblock bottle and wiggling it. “Unclench!”

“Oh?” Ben raised an eyebrow, “well then!”

With a challenging smirk, Ben started tilting Annie’s smoothie towards the grass.

“Don’t you dare!” Annie pointed at him.

“Am I uptight?”

“Yes.” Annie scoffed. Ben tipped the glass further. The thick, ice-cold mush started sliding towards the rim. “Ben!”

“Annie, unclench!” Ben stuck the tip of his tongue out before laughing. Collapsing on the picnic blanket next to Annie, he handed her the smoothie and clinked his glass with hers. “Cheers, love.”

“Can you believe you’re nearly done filming?” Annie asked before taking a sip, humming happily at the taste.

“Just two more weeks.” Ben nodded with a small frown. “Unreal.”

“I’m really proud of you.”

“The movie’s not even out yet.” Ben chuckled.

“Still, you worked so hard.” Annie reached over and rubbed circle’s on Ben’s exposed lower back.

Ben wrapped an arm around Annie’s shoulders and pulled her close, kissing the top of her head and resting his chin on it.

“How was your little date with Jamie?”

“It went well.” Annie sighed. “He’s not leaving the show, we agreed to be friendly on set, he got to meet Rory…”

“So, are things back to normal now?”

Annie hummed and shrugged as she sipped her smoothie.

Ben, Annie and Rory sat out in the garden until the sun started to set. A cool gust of wind blew past them, making Rory and Annie shiver at the same time, much to Ben’s amusement. Collapsing the parasol and grabbing the squealing baby, Ben led the way back in the house.

###

“We said no presents!”

“She’s three months old today!” Joe protested. “It’s really an achievement, considering!”

“Considering…?” Annie raised an eyebrow.

“She’s got you dumdums as parents…” Joe mumbled and ran away when Annie tried to hit him.

“Children, please!” Gwilym bounced Rory on his hip.

“Bloody knuckle-dragger.” Annie stuck her tongue out at Joe. “She doesn’t need another unicorn plushie!”

“Says who?”

“Her mum!”

“Pfffft.”

“Oh,” Annie rolled up her sleeves, “oh, you little -”

“Annie, do you need a time out?” Gwilym raised his eyebrows.

A moment of silence passed before Rory started cooing and trying to grab at Gwilym’s lips in her tiny hands.

“Those are attached to my face, Rory!” Gwilym mumbled into Rory’s fingers before he opened his mouth and pretended to munch on her hand. Rory squealed and grabbed at his lips again. “God, I love these little baby sausage fingers.”

“They’re more like mini-kebabs, actually.” Clara quipped.

“Can you stop comparing my daughter’s fingers to food?” Annie planted her hands on her hips. “We get it, you’re hungry. The food is on its’ bloody way!”

“Where did you order the food from?” Clara muttered, “Thailand?”

“Ha, ha.” Annie rolled her eyes.

###

“Holy shit.”

Annie froze like a deer in the headlights upon seeing the expression on Ben’s face. She wasn’t sure if it was a good sign or a bad sign. In an instant, she felt extremely self-conscious and uncomfortable.

“Annie, you look…” Ben circled around her, his eyes scanning over every inch of her body. “Holy shit.”

In a dark green chiffon midi-dress and her long, light-brown hair cascading freely down her back, Annie looked like a renaissance painting. Her make up was soft and barely there, giving her face a natural glow. Ben was mesmerised.

“I did good?” Annie looked up at him, her turquoise eyes shining.

“You did great!” Ben breathed as his hand traced the line on the deep v-neckline of her dress. “You…”

“Did you tell your mum I said hi when you dropped Rory off?” Annie asked as she went off to find her shoes.

“I did.” Ben followed her, a dazed look on his face. “She said she misses you.”

“Aw!” Annie smiled as she bent down and slipped her shoe on. Her cleavage was on full display in front of Ben. He gulped. “Benny, it’s rude to stare.”

“Do we have to go?” Ben bit his bottom lip.

“It’s your film’s wrap-party. A film you star in.” Annie laughed. “Yes, we have to go!”

“Do we? Really?” Ben pouted and flashed Annie the cutest puppy-dog eyes he could muster.

“Yes.” Annie wouldn’t budge.

“It’s just that we haven’t had a night just for us since Rory…” he murmured and decided to change tactics. Taking Annie’s hand in his, he pulled her to him so their bodies were flush against each other. “And after seeing you in that dress, I kind of want you all to myself.”

“We have to go, Ben.”

“We can be a little bit late.” He started swaying slowly, leading her in a slow dance. “Everybody will be so drunk, they won’t even notice.”

His hand slid down her back until it reached her bum. He gave it a gentle squeeze and almost growled when Annie smirked and pulled away from him. Her dress flared softly as she spun around and shrugged, looking back over her shoulder.

“We’re leaving. Now.” Annie flahsed him a smile and wiggled her bum a little. “I promise I’ll let you see me out of the dress as soon as we get home.”

“You’re a cruel, cruel woman.”

“I know.”

###

“What do you mean, you’re not going?” Joe’s voice climbed an octave. “It’s the press tour! You have to be there!”

“Sorry, mate,” Ben shrugged, “I’ve got a big project I can’t get out of.”

“And you allowed this to happen?!” Joe turned to Annie.

“Not like I had much of a say, really…” Annie laughed nervously. “He’s a big boy.”

“Well, this is just great.” Joe snarled and grabbed his glass of whiskey. “Fucking fantastic.”

“Oh, come on!” Ben huffed. “You’re overreacting.”

“Am I?” Joe hissed after sipping his drink. “Am I overreacting?”

“A little bit, yeah.” Gwil intervened.

“I mean, I’m leaving Annie with a baby while she has to get back to work, alone,” Ben started, “and she wasn’t half as dramatic as you are when I told her about it.”

“Took it like a champ, really.” Annie shrugged.

“Just because you chose a heartless succubus to breed with -”

“Watch it!” Ben interrupted Joe’s ramble with a pointed finger and a steely gaze.

“Ugh.” Joe groaned. “Alright. Fine. Don’t come on the press tour.”

“You’re in some big trouble, now…” Annie murmured to Ben behind her drink.

“But just know this, Benjamin,” Joe leaned forward, squinting his eyes to look menacing. “We’re going to have fun. Lots of it. Without you.”

“I can only imagine.” Ben nodded solemnly.

“No, you won’t have to.” A devilish smile appeared on Joe’s face. “Because we’ll take pictures. And videos. And send them to you.”

“Joe -”

“And you will eat your fucking heart out because you’ll wish you could be there with us.”

“Well, this is fun!” Annie and Clara said at the same time before erupting in giggles.

###

In the days after the boys had finished shooting, the four men spent almost every waking moment with each other. It wasn’t unusual for Annie to stumble upon Gwilym, Joe or Rami wandering about her house while Ben went out on a beer run or a food run. What she didn’t expect, however, was for Joe to walk in wearing Ben’s clothes.

“Is that Ben’s jumper?” Annie stared at Joe, her mouth slightly open. “It is Ben’s! Why are you wearing Ben’s clothes?”

“He gave it to me.” Joe shrugged.

“Did something happen to your jumper?”

“No.”

“You’re borrowing clothes, now?”

“I’m not borrowing it. It’s mine.”

Annie blinked in confusion and walked over to Joe. She circled around him. She couldn’t understand, for the life of her, why the hell he wore Ben’s burgundy jumper.

“Take it off.”

“No!”

“Joseph, this isn’t yours. Take it off, now.”

“He gave it to me!”

“Just like that? For no reason?”

“I gave him one of my awesome t-shirts, okay?”

“Nope.” Annie gestured with her hands at Joe’s torso. “Off it goes.”

“I’m not taking it off.”

“Either you take it off on your own, or I’m taking it off for you.” Annie growled.

Joe’s mouth opened and closed a couple of times as he processed what she had just said.

“Annie, do you ever listen to the words that come out of your mouth?”

“I’m counting to three, Mazzello.”

“Come at me.” Joe spread his arms tauntingly, raising his eyebrows.

“One.” Annie drawled and scoffed when Joe looked around innocently. “Two.”

“Annie, you’re ridiculous.”

“Three.” Annie lunged at Joe.

Since he didn’t really believe she’d do it, Joe lost his footing and collapsed on the sofa, holding on to Annie and essentially taking her down with him. Rory squealed with laughter in her playpen, watching her mom and her uncle Joey wrestling.

“Annie, stop!”

“Take the damn thing off, already!”

“Um…” Ben stood at the entrance to the living room, scratching the back of his neck with one hand and carrying a plastic bag in the other. “What the fuck?”

Annie straddled Joe’s chest, pinning his hands down on either side of his head. Both Annie and Joe were panting with exertion. Joe’s - or Ben’s - jumper rolled up slightly, exposing Joe’s midriff.

“Ben, control your woman!” Joe grunted as he tried to wiggle it out.

“He’s wearing my favourite jumper, Ben!” Annie cried at the same time.

“Shut up!” they both snapped at each other, simultaneously, while a dumbfounded Ben looked at them.

###

The third season's pre-production process was in full gear, but Annie hadn't been too busy with it. An occasional wardrobe fitting here, a hair and make-up test there. She only heard about the new guy joining in through her gossipping hair and make-up artists, who were absolutely smitten with him.

They said he was the perfect mix of Clara and Annie - Clara's ocean blue eyes with Annie's brown hair. He had a baby face and a bit of a country-boy charm to him. All she knew about him, however, was his name.

"Hey, sister!" a dashing young man bellowed as Annie entered the meeting with the production team and the studio heads.

"Michael, I assume?" Annie giggled and extended a hand for him to shake, taking the empty seat between him and Clara.

"Indeedy-do!"

"Right, now that everyone knows who everyone is again," the director clapped his hands, "can we get on with it?"

"Wait, where's Joel?" Annie wondered, looking at the Line Producer's empty chair.

"We had to let him go while you were on maternity leave, we hired a new guy," one of the bigwigs said coolly and sipped his tea. "Don’t you worry your pretty little head over it. Let's get to business, shall we?"

###

Annie waited outside for her ride to the little production gathering. She smoothed down her olive-green, lace trimmed tank top and looked down at her blue jeans nervously as a white Seat Ibiza approached her, pulling up to the curb.

"Annie?" a man called through the rolled down window, leaning over the passenger side.

"Yeah." Annie smiled and opened the door, plopping down in the passenger seat.

"I'm Andrew."

As she shut the door closed, she caught him looking at her as if she were his dinner through the corner of her eye. She was no stranger to men checking her out, but it's the first time someone had done it so blatantly. Most men would at least try to be discreet about it. The man licked his lips and bit down on his bottom lip, his eyes locked on Annie's chest.

"Thanks for the lift." Annie tried to start a conversation.

"Yeah, it's no problem." The man seemed to be shaken out of a trance as Annie spoke. He quickly pulled away from the curb. "When they said the star needed a ride, it was a no-brainer. Had to seize the opportunity, you know?"

Annie laughed nervously, her knee bouncing. Something about this guy was a bit weird. Pushing the feeling to the back of her mind, she told herself to relax. Yes, this is the first time she's gone out at night to a social gathering without Ben since Rory; yes, the man was all but a stranger; but she's in a very public relationship with Ben. They're raising a child together. 'You're just paranoid', she repeated to herself in her head. 'Should've just taken a damn Uber.'

"So, what's it like, being the new Line Producer on the block?" Annie

"Had some big shoes to step in to, not gonna lie," the guy chuckled, his eyes squinting a little as he laughed, "but I think I fit right in with the production crew."

"They're an easy lot to get on well with, aren't they?" Annie smiled back, feeling a bit more at ease. "Is this your first job? You seem quite young."

"Yeah, mostly worked as an assistant."

"Wow," Annie whistled playfully, "so this is your first 'Big Boy' job!"

###

Although he wished he could go with Annie, Ben didn't mind staying in for some quality daddy-daughter time with Rory. He was actually quite thankful that the babysitter cancelled last minute. He felt a bit guilty for all the times he went out with his mates and left Annie, pregnant and alone, to wait around for him at home.

However, when almost two hours passed and he hadn't heard from her, he couldn't help but feel a little jealous. He couldn't help but wonder what she's doing, who she's talking to, how many drinks she's had. He wasn't a jealous guy, normally, but this is the first time she's been out at night without him. He missed her.

'Everything okay?' Ben hit 'send' and placed the phone face-down on the floor next to Rory.

Seconds later, his phone buzzed.

'Peachy.'

'At least try and have fun?'

'Phone's battery on 2%.'

'Forgot to charge it again?'

'I just really wish you were here.'

###

"Fuck!" Annie hissed as her phone died in her hands right as she sent Ben the last text. She stuffed the phone in her purse. "Fucking thing!"

"Everything alright?" Andrew threw his arm up behind Annie, letting it rest on the back of her chair. His legs were spread wide, his body acting as a physical barrier for Annie from the rest of the party.

"Phone died." Annie grumbled and had a sip from her beer.

While Andrew was three beers down, she still cradled her first and took small sips. She enjoyed her beer a lot more before Andrew crashed her table. One minute she was having a perfectly fun conversation with Jamie, Clara and Michael, and the next they all scattered away and she was left alone with Andrew. Before she knew it, he had cornered her into the back wall. She felt tiny under his huge build.

If that wasn't enough, she could have sworn he kept inching closer to her when he felt she wasn't looking. Every time she averted her gaze and tried to locate Clara in the crowded pub, Andrew slid closer to her. It wasn't long before his leg was brushing against her. Annie tried to lean back, away from him, but all she did was glue herself tighter to the wall.

She tried to maintain the small talk and keep it neutral, making sure she's not sending any signals. She crossed her arms over her chest and shrunk even further into the wall. Her body language was closed-off. Other than having a bright neon light over her head reading 'Not Interested', there wasn't much else she could do.

Then, time seemed to slow down. She felt his hand grab the back of her neck and saw his face coming in to hers, his lips parting. She felt sick. She knew what was happening and she didn't want it to. She knew she had no where to back off to. Nowhere to run.

So she ducked to the side. Dodging him like the guy from the Matrix dodging the bullets flying at him. Her heart was pounding, because she had absolutely no where to go. Andrew physically cornered her. If he wanted to, he could easily force her to kiss him.

However, her Matrix move made him pause for just a second. He blinked in confusion and Annie looked at him closely. The close shave of the hair on his head. The receding hairline. The unkempt stubble. His short, straight eyelashes. His slight double chin. The chest hairs poking out from his shirt's neckline.

"Andrew, no. No." Annie asserted. "I mean, I'm sorry," Annie choked out, "I really don't -"

"Oh."

"I have a boyfriend. We have a child together."

"What he doesn't know can't hurt him, eh?"

Tightening his grip on the back of her head, Andrew tried again. Annie flinched and held her breath, waiting for impact. She could feel bile in the back of her throat. Tears pricking at her eyes. Her hands balled into fists. The entire world seemed to go dark around her.

"What the fuck?" a familiar voice boomed in front of her.

Light started creeping in to her field of vision again. She could hear a chair dragging across the floor, the glasses on the table clattering. She didn't even realize her eyes were shut tight until she had to open them. A hand grabbed her wrist and pulled her up and away from the corner she was lodged in. She collided with Michael's chest as he walked backwards, wrapping his arms around her protectively.

"You okay?" Michael leaned down so Annie could hear him over the blaring music. "Did he do anything?"

Annie shook her head and turned around to find a fuming Jamie towering over Andrew.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing, huh?" Jamie pushed Andrew, who stood up and squared up to the tall ginger. "Think it's cool to just corner girls like that?"

"Hey, she didn't say no!" Andrew retorted.

"I did, actually..." Annie scoffed.

"Did he kiss you?" Jamie ground his teeth together. "Did his lips touch any part of you? At all?"

"If you hadn't interrupted..." Andrew slurred.

"You fucking -" Jamie pulled his hand back, clenching his fist harder.

"Jamie, don't!" Clara squeezed between the two men, knowing Jamie was one scandal away from being sacked. "He was just really drunk. Weren't you, Arnold?"

"It's Andrew actu-"

"I don't give a shit." Clara growled. "This is your chance to get the fuck on out of here and pretend this never happened."

###

"You're home early!" Ben said as Annie walked into the living room. When he heard Annie draw in a shaky breath, he turned around to get a good look at her. "Love?"

"Some idiot tried to kiss me." Annie blurted out and stuffed her trembling hands in her back pockets, hiding them away from Ben's sight. "I didn't want him to."

"What?"

"The guy who picked me up."

"Did he touch you?"

"No."

"Did you say no?" Ben stood up and walked over to Annie, cradling her face in his warm, soft hands. "Did he do anything? How did it even happen?"

"I said no." Annie blinked back a few tears. "He cornered me. Jamie and Clara and the new guy, Michael, were all but gone and he just -"

"I should have been there." Ben peppered kisses all over Annie's face, as if he was making sure that his territory is securely marked. "I should have gone with you."

"Ben, I'm okay."

"Did you punch him in the nuts?" Ben asked, his face serious. "Did you fucking castrate him?"

"No." Annie smiled, a mischievous glimmer flashing in her eyes. "But Jamie almost did."

“Never thought I’d say this,” Ben sighed, “but thank God for Jamie.”

TAGLIST: @ramibaby @xgoingdownx @qweenly @violetpond @sweeterthancheese @drummerqueenrmt @westansstuff @rogersgirlfriend @justgivemethekeys @blondecarfucker @cheeseedreams47 @rogerspoison @deacy-dearest @pinkmarvel @onceuponadetectivedemigod @likeit-or-leaveit

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nialledfromfics · 6 years

Text

chapter eleven part one

“I really wanna thank you for coming with me, Rachel,” Chloe mentioned as she eased herself down on her sofa, a soft hand on her elbow from her friend providing a little help, “It really means a lot to me.”

Rachel knitted her brows and flippantly waved her hand as she sat down next to Chloe. “No worries, Chlo, what are friends for?”

“It’s just with you and Niall’s wedding coming up, which I’m so excited for by the way, I know you’ve been busy with all the planning and stuff,” she told her friend, peering over at Rachel as she shakily ran her fingers through the side of her hair, “I didn’t want to add anymore stress for you, but I just didn’t know who else to ask and I thought–…I don’t know...”

Chloe’s voice waned as she pulled in a shuddering breath, her dark eyes shifting down to her lap as the thoughts of what she had just gone through started to rip through her mind all over again. Feeling the gentle touch of her friends hand rub across the top of her shoulders, Chloe sniffled as she heard Rachel speak up. “Thought what?”

“You know, that...you’d understand,” Chloe answered glancing back over at her friend.

Rachel tucked her lips into her mouth and faintly nodded her head. “I do,” she concurred, “and I’m glad you asked me.”

“We can, um, just keep this between us, right?” Chloe then asked, her brows raising slightly as she darted her stare over her friend’s face, “I just...I really don’t want anyone to know. Like...ever.”

“Yeah, of course,” Rachel said, sweetly tucking a curly strand of Chloe’s hair away from her face, “I won’t tell a soul. To the grave.”

Chloe let a tiny smile tug at corner of her mouth, the first one she had let show that day. “Thanks. To the grave.”

The morning after Chloe’s naughty birthday surprise for Niall, they woke up snuggled naked in Chloe’s bed, soft smiles on their faces and a dull blissful ache drenching their wrecked bodies. Niall’s eyes opened first; crinkling through the bright mid-morning sun as his warm body cradled around Chloe’s. He could feel the press of her bum nestled into his front and the slow rise of her back swelling against his chest with each of her languid breaths. His heavy arm was draped over the dip in her waist, his big palm spread across her lower tummy and snuggling further into her, Niall tucked his face down into the crook of her neck.

She stirred against him, just a tiny movement, her sleep-filled body shivering as Niall brushed his fingertips along the soft bared skin of her stomach. The tip of his nose dragged along her jawline, his lips just hovering along its trail. “Mornin’, my love,” he whispered, Chloe finally concluding with a soft rumble in response.

Her eyes were the ones to ease open that time, her naked body immersed in Niall; tangled in his warmth and his strong arms and she raised her shoulder slightly from the tickle of his breath as she barely turned her face back towards his. “Morning.”

“Last night was…” Niall paused as his mind flashed back to the night before and sent a smile sweeping across his lips, one that Chloe could feel against the smooth flesh of her jaw, “it was fuckin’ amazin’. Thank you.”

Chloe’s eyelids fluttered as Niall pressed a soft kiss to the corner of her mouth, his body fitting even more around hers. “I’m glad you had fun, babe.”

“I did,” he said, nuzzling his face down into her neck as Chloe dropped her head back onto her pillow, “gonna have even more fun when it’s my turn to do the same to you.”

“You’re gonna tie me up?”

Niall lightly shrugged his shoulder at her question, his hot breath pushing out over Chloe’s ear. “Maybe. Though I’m sure I can think of somethin’ different. Somethin’ that’s gonna leave ya beggin’...”

Chloe’s body trembled as she let out a giggle, her fingers absentmindedly running up and down the length of his forearm that was cradled around her middle. “Oh baby, I was already begging last night.”

Tipping his head back, Niall rumbled out a laugh. “We were both beggin’,” he said, pulling her tighter into him, “It was good.”

She smiled as she turned her face and peered back at him. “You ready for your birthday bash today?” she asked, “It’s the big 27!”

Niall shrugged, rolling his lips into his mouth. “Eh...rather stay here in bed with you all damn day, to be honest.”

“Now that would be amazing,” Chloe chuckled. “What time is Finny supposed to come back?”

Pulling his arm out from under the covers, Niall lightly ran his palm across the side of his face and picked at the tiny dark hairs of his beard. “Uh...Rachel’s s'posed to drop him off at three at my place,” he mumbled, sliding his hand back under the warmed covers and back around Chloe’s midsection, “everyone else is gettin’ there around four.”

Stretching out of her sleep with a hushed yawn, Chloe carefully flipped over within Niall’s embrace–catching his bright blue stare as he popped up on his elbow to peer down at her. A sweet tempered grin tugged at her lips as their gaze danced with one another’s and Niall rested his cheek on his hunched shoulder, very softly easing his hand up from under the covers again to brush away at a lone strand of hair that laid over Chloe’s temple. She sucked in a deep breath, one that completely filled her lungs with the heated cozy scent of him and her eyes fell closed as Niall leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to her lips.

A low hum slipped from Chloe’s mouth as Niall barely inched back, her dark eyes once again settling on his. “I need coffee,” she grumbled, still half asleep and basking in the warmth of his body.

“Me too.”

Bringing her hand up, she grasped around the back of Niall’s neck and smashed another kiss to his lips before sliding out from underneath him with one easy movement. Niall twisted his body around to watch with wrinkled brows as Chloe scrambled herself up off the bed. “I’m gonna make you some breakfast,” she suggested, stumbling over to her dresser to pull on an old college t-shirt that she had yanked out from a drawer.

Niall dropped his head to the pillow. “Oh, Jesus.”

Whipping around to face him as she had finished tugging on a pair of striped cotton shorts, Chloe shot him a playfully disgruntled look and hooked her hands on her hips. “Hey!”

“What?” Niall chuckled as he picked his head up and saw the sight of her, holding his hand out in recantation, “I’m not complainin’, I love me a good bowl of cereal.”

She rolled his eyes at his comment. “I’m making you a real breakfast, I can do that you know,” she quipped, grabbing a pair of wool socks from her top drawer and slipping them on her feet, “I’m not incapable of making eggs and toast and–” she paused, her eyes scrunching up in dramatized thought as she tapped her finger on the jut of her chin, “..and what are those little sticks of meat called again? My feeble mind can’t remember…”

Niall let out a snort at her joke and quirked a brow as he threw his hands up behind his shaggy head of hair. “You’re just bein’ a little shit now,” he chided, “but it’s sausage.”

“Ahh yes, sausage,” Chloe continued with a tilt of her head, not missing a beat, “a breakfast delicacy. I will very much attempt making you some precious sausage too.”

“You’re a lunatic,” Niall mumbled with a half smirk and a shake of his head.

Crossing her arms over her chest, Chloe leaned a knee up in the end of her bed and narrowed her eyes. “And you’re terrible, you know that?” she teased.

Niall shrugged. “I do love rilin’ ya up.”

“Oh, I know.”

“But ya like it.”

Giving him a soft giggle, Chloe swept her dark hair off of her shoulder and leaned down on her hands as she climbed back up the bed and right over top of Niall. His eyes were glued up at her; not wanting to miss a single flutter of her eyelashes or the soft crinkle of a smile on her lips and she waited, hovering over him before reaching over and gently running her hand through the top of his hair. It was incredibly soft, like freshly woven silk threading through her fingers, and she stared down at him as her touch slipped from the ends of his hair and dragged along the side of his face. Niall gulped back a steadying breath, watching the trace of her dark eyes as they followed the delicate motions of her fingertips and it was less than a second before she was gripping harshly around his stubbled chin and pressing her mouth to his. “I like you,” she whispered as she faintly pulled back, biting his taste off her lips. She smiled at him, a sweet smile that made her dimples pierce into her cheeks and just as Niall was about to wrap his hands around her waist and yank her down on top of him, she quickly back away and clambered off the bed.

“One birthday breakfast with extra sausage coming up,” she announced as she fixed the hem of her t-shirt and began to shuffle towards the door of the bedroom.

Niall’s hands plopped down to his sides in a grunt. “I’m gonna give you some extra sausage,” he mumbled under his breath.

Whipping her head around to peer at him over her shoulder, Chloe smiled though her giggles and playfully rolled her eyes at his crude little joke. “Oh, I’m sure you will, big boy, but you definitely gotta shower first.”

He laughed, rubbing his hand across his bared chest and tipping his head to the side. “Shower with me?”

Pinching her eyes shut for a moment in thought, Chloe let out a huff. “Okay, fine. Shower first, then breakfast. But we gotta be fast, ‘cause I’m fucking starving.”

“Deal.”

“Niall, babe...it’s, like, almost five…”

Chloe wasn’t trying to bring much attention to the fact that it was nearly two hours past the time that Rachel was supposed to have Finny back at Niall’s house, but even she had begun to get worried by that point. The party had already started and was in full force; the food was out, drinks flowing and the room filled with the happy chattering of their friends and guests who had all arrived. All except for one. Fionn. Chloe could tell by the intensely nervous wiggle of Niall’s knee as he sat on the arm of the couch and the shakiness of his thumb as it hovered over the screen of his phone, that he was feeling that same deep and unsettling worriedness too. He had already tried to call Rachel six times, and Niall was contemplating making one more.

“I know, love,” he quietly mumbled, peeking up at Chloe who was standing beside him with a mixed drink clutched in her hand, “she hasn’t answered any of me calls. I–...I don’t know what else to do.”

“You don’t think…” Chloe paused briefly at her own ignorant thought, Niall’s eyes narrowing slightly as he darted his stare over hers. “No...no, she’s gonna bring him back.”

Huffing out a sigh, he ran a jittery hand up through his dark hair as he dropped his eyes back down to his phone. “Yeah...she will, I know she will.”

“Maybe something just came up?”

Niall let his chin hang to his chest with a short sigh, reaching up to mindlessly rub his fingertips across the side of his forehead. Chloe rolled her lips into her mouth as she watched him; she could feel the anxiousness he was exuding and it hurt her to even fathom the thoughts were going through his mind. Gently placing a palm to his upper back, she rubbed down the span of his broad shoulder to splay her hand at the front of his chest and bent over, pushing a sweet kiss to the top of his head. “It’s gonna be fine, baby,” she softly whispered as she gave him another calming peck to his temple, “he’ll be here any min–”

She didn’t even get to finish her sentence before they heard Niall’s front door swing open and the shrill voice of Rachel belting out across the expansiveness of the condo. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

The entire room fell silent, an eerie silent, just the faint sound of the music playing in the background as all eyes went wide and shot over to where Rachel was standing by the front door. Chloe’s mouth fell agape at the sight of her, quickly peeking down at Rachel’s side to see Finny stumble into the doorway after her, his little overnight bag strapped to his back.

“Da!”

Chloe heard a faint gasp slip from Niall’s lips as he caught glimpse of his son and he stood up beside her, a huge smile forming on Fionn’s face as he ran towards his father, colliding his tiny body right into Niall’s awaiting arms. Chloe peeked over to watch them, a tiny smirk tugging at her lips as Niall crouched down and hugged Finny with all his might. Fionn’s little arms were wrapped so tight around his dad’s neck, he was surely cutting off his circulation. “Missed you so much, buddy,” Niall mumbled against the side of little boy’s face before he planted a kiss to his cheek, “Glad you’re home.”

“Me too, Da.” It was the sweetest interaction Chloe had ever seen between them and she pulled in a deep breath and brought her hand up to her mouth to cover her growing smile. But her smile, nor the boys’ sweet moment, would last much longer.

“Her, Niall? You’re fucking her?”

It was Rachel’s raucous voice, and insulting words, that once again broke everyone out of their focus on Niall and Fionn and Chloe flung her stare back to the girl standing by the doorway, her brows furrowing wildly at her statement. She could already feel the anger bubbling up in the pit of her stomach, and it was the just the way Rachel was looking at her, that made her want to storm right over and knock her the fuck out.

Niall slowly stood up, Finny keeping his body as close to Niall as he could, hugging him around his waist with his face tucked down against his hip. “Rach–”

“No,” Chloe finally spoke up, flicking her stare over her shoulder to Niall as she held out a palm to stop him. Niall’s mouth sat in a jilted part as he looked at her, his blue eyes wide and the tip of his tongue barely tracing over his bottom lip. Chloe swallowed hard as she kept her stare locked with his, the unspoken words that were wafting between them more than enough to explain what the other meant before she quietly set her drink down on the table and walked over towards Rachel. The girl had her arms crossed tight over her chest, an almost defensive posture with her hip cocked out and her jaw matching and Chloe’s eyes narrowed profusely as she stepped closer to her. She could feel the heavy pounding of her heart in the back of her ears, feel it rattling in her chest and it was merely egging her on. “Do you have a problem?”

“Do I have a problem?” Rachel snickered, rolling her shoulders back, “You’re fucking my husband!”

The air was nearly knocked out of Chloe’s lungs, so much so that it got stuck at the back of her throat as her mouth hung open in what she could only describe as complete and utter shock. Were Chloe’s ears hearing right? Did Rachel really just say that? “You’re, um...you’re what?” Chloe blurted out with a disillusioned chuckle. Was this really happening right now? Oh my God. Whipping her head around, she immediately caught Niall’s stare and pointed down at Fionn who was still firmly attached to his waist. “Cover his ears, now.”

Not even hesitating, Niall put his big palms flat on either side of the little boys face, keeping his stare on Chloe. She threw him a smile before peeking over at Liz, who was standing on the other side of the room from Niall, absolutely dumbfounded at the altercation that was about to take place, before she quickly turned her attention back to Rachel. “Look, I don’t know what the fuck is going on in that deluded head of yours, but he hasn’t been your husband since the moment you fucking spread your legs for some other guy,” Chloe snided, with a quirk of her brow.

Rachel’s mouth dropped open. “Excuse me?”

“You fucking heard what I said,” Chloe continued, glaring at the girl, her voice starting to raise a bit louder than she was anticipating as her unwieldy anger started to build, “you treated him like shit, okay. It was your choice to throw him away for someone else like he didn’t even matter. Like he didn’t give you a good life or a great little boy. But really, ya know, I guess, I should thank you,” Chloe added before stepping closer to Rachel and lowering her voice to just above a whisper, “because he is the best sex I have ever had.”

If Chloe could have taken a snapshot of the look on Rachel’s face in that single moment, she would have treasured it forever. But the glory of what she had clapped back with didn’t last for long and Rachel’s eyes grew big, her mouth pursing into a small line. “I’m gonna fucking rip your throat out!”

It was a split second of Rachel practically lunging towards Chloe before Niall had rushed over to step between them, Liz hurrying over to grab onto Fionn and holding him tight to her. “Rachel, what the fuck!” Niall yelled out, his body slotting in front of Chloe as he held a hand at Rachel’s torso, “Stop it right now!”

Her head shook back and forth at Niall as she tried to push away at his restraining palm, her deadly glare locked in on Chloe. “You will never fucking have him!”

��Bitch, I already do,” Chloe snipped back, Niall twisting his head to look back at her with furrowed brows as she tried her best to peer around him at Rachel.

Pointing out a finger at the dark haired girl, Rachel’s face was contorted red with anger, an anger that Niall himself had rarely seen in all the years he had known her and he continued to flick his attention between the two girls as he tried his best to control the both of them. “You will never have him like I did, do you hear me?” Rachel continued to shout, “You don’t deserve him and you will never be a mother to my son.”

Chloe’s tensing body slowed to a stop, her raised arms hanging down at her sides as she felt the air lose itself from her strangled lungs. Niall eased back a bit as Rachel took the opportunity to finish what she had started. “I know your secrets, Chloe, all your dark little secrets that you don’t want anyone to know and believe me when I say that Niall would never love a used up slut like you…”

Gasping lightly from her outburst, Chloe’s stare shot wide and her mouth hung open. “Rachel, don’t–”

“He wouldn’t dare waste his time with someone like you if he really knew the truth,” she growled out, her chest heaving under the press of Niall’s hand, “If he really knew the kinda person you are and the things you’ve done.”

With her dark eyes already filling with the wetness of her hot tears, Chloe struggled with keeping her chin from wobbling as she darted her watery stare with Rachel, shaking her head in a plead. “Rachel, please!”

The room fell to a deadly silence, so quiet Chloe could feel it scratching at her eardrums, and no one made a sound, not a single sound, except for the shaky uncertain breath that pushed past Chloe’s lips. Niall peered over at her, his brows wrinkling in confusion and concern and she slowly met his gaze for a moment before looking back at Rachel. “You...you are a horrible fucking person, Rachel,” she squeaked out in a whisper, shaking her head through her weakened cries, “truly a horrible person.”

Squeezing her eyes closed, Chloe slapped a hand over her mouth to hold in her sobs as the tears began to slip down her cheeks and she pushed past Niall and Rachel, running straight out of the opened front door. “Chloe!” Niall yelled out for her, his mind starting to go into a frenzy, unsure as to what exactly was happening and what he should do, “Chloe!”

He felt a rush of air as Liz whizzed past him to follow after Chloe and Niall lowered his hand from Rachel before spinning around and looking straight at Finny. “Little man, I need ya to go in your room for a bit, yeah? Shut your door behind ya.”

Finny quietly nodded his head and took off down the hallway to his room, Niall flicking his stare around to his various friends that were still standing in shock in the open space of his condo. He silently listened for the click of Fionn’s bedroom door before he swung himself back around to face Rachel. He wasn’t sure he had ever felt the amount of anger towards her as he was feeling in that exact moment, not even when he had caught her cheating in his bed. “Have ya fuckin’ lost your goddamn mind?”

“Have you, Niall? She was my friend!”

Niall’s head cocked back, his mouth parted at her comment. “I don’t give a shit if she was your friend, she’s my fuckin’ friend. She’s my best friend and my fuckin’ girlfriend! She was there for me and Finny every fuckin’ day, Rachel, every single day after you left and through all the shit you put us through!”

Rachel let out a displeased huff as her eyes darted fast over Niall’s face. “Oh really, were you fucking her back then to?”

“No, Rachel, ‘cause I’m not a lyin’ manipulative cunt like you.”

A few gasps came from behind Niall and he watched as Rachel dotted her stare around him, his brows cocking up as she slowly eased her eyes back to his. “How could you do this to me?”

“To you?” Niall let out a irritated chuckle and shook his head, running his hand over his face in avid frustration. “I’m not doin’ nothin’ to you! You’re the one fuckin’ comin’ up in here, attackin’ and insultin’ me girlfriend, the girl that I love–….” He stopped as the words left his lips. His head was fuzzy, disoriented with everything that was going on but in that split second, Niall knew that what he had just blurted out was the most coherent, most honest, thing he had said all damn day, or his whole life for that matter. “I fuckin’–, Jesus, I fuckin’ love that girl–and you’re not gonna walk into me house and treat her like that. You don’t get to do that, Rachel. You don’t get to embarrass her in front of all our friends and treat her like a piece of shit just ‘cause you’re pissed off and jealous.”

“I’m not jealous.”

“Oh, you’re not?” Niall said with a raise of his brows, “Is that why you came in here shoutin’ that I’m still your husband when you’re gettin’ ready to marry someone else? Fuckin’ save it, Rachel.”

“You shouldn’t be with her,” Rachel shot back, darting her eyes over Niall’s.

“That’s not up to you to decide. You’re not allowed to get angry over that and come in here tryin’ to make a fool out of Chloe in front of everyone just ‘cause you’re upset,” Niall continued, waving his hands about as his voice grew louder with conviction, “I know what that feels like; ya did the same exact shit to me and I’m not gonna let ya do it to her.”

His eyes flicked with hers, watching as the heat of her madness bubbled to the apples of her cheeks. “You fucking brought this all on yourself, Niall.”

Swallowing hard, Niall stepped closer to her and leaned in. “You know what? Maybe I did, maybe I was the reason ya cheated on me but I’m glad I brought it on meself. I’m glad ya fuckin’ cheated, shit, I’m fuckin’ ecstatic ya did. And ya know why? Because of that fuckin’ girl,” he went on, pointing a finger over Rachel’s shoulder towards the hallway. “If you’d not done what ya did...if you’d not slept with someone else and broke up our family, I wouldn’t be with her right now, I wouldn’t be the happiest that I have ever been in me life. So, yeah, I’m glad I brought it on meself and I guess I should thank ya for it.”

Rachel gulped back a breath and tightened her arms over her chest. “You’re a fucking asshole.”

“And you’re fuckin’ insane,” he barked back, “now get the fuck outta me house.”

“Fuck you, Niall!” Rachel screamed out in response as she took a step closer to him. “You’re gonna regret this, all of this! You know that? You’re gonna regret talking to me like this, treating me like this!”

Niall rolled his eyes and shook his head once more as he leaned down into her and pointed towards the door. “Rachel, I’m not gonna say it again, get the fuck out of me house!” The words bellowed out so deep, with so much rage and assuredness, everyone could practically feel it shaking the floor beneath their feet.

The tears began to seep down Rachel’s cheeks as she spun around to walk out of his condo, stopping right as she stepped past the door frame. “You’ll be sorry, just wait. You’ll be fucking sorry for this.”

And with that last bit of a threat, she was gone. Dropping his head into the cradle of his palm as his eyes fell closed, Niall pushed out a deep sigh, his fingertips digging into the skin of his forehead as Jack and Damien both stepped up on either side of him. “Dude…are you alright?”

“Man, what the fuck was that?”

It was really all his friends could say to him, to comfort him as they were having just as hard a time as Niall wrapping their heads around what had just transpired. Carefully lifting his face from the cups of his palms, Niall roughly carded his fingers up through his messy hair and without a word to either guy, went to take a step towards the open door in attempt to go after Chloe just as Liz came flying back into the apartment.

She came to a dead stop right in front of Niall, her big blue eyes darting wild over his. “I...I tried to talk to her,” Liz stuttered out, restlessly gnawing at her bottom lip, “she won’t say anything to me at all, she’s just...crying. You have to go try and talk to her, Niall, you’re the only one that can. She sitting in the north stairwell.”

Niall’s glassy eyes fluttered in slight relief to know that Chloe was at least okay and safe and he let out a shuddered breath before nodding his head at her. “Go check on Fionn,” he ordered Liz, “I’ll go get her.”

#niall #niall horan #niall fic #niall au #niall fanfic #friends to lovers #single dad niall #sb #chapter 11 part 1 #aahhhhhhhh perhaps some shit going down????#lol #this was a fun chapter to write #i hope you guys enjoy!!!#take a read #share it #let me know what you think #thanks friends!!!#:)))))))))

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aion-rsa · 3 years

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Everything That Happened to Home and Away’s Alf Stewart That You Missed Because You Had to Grow Up and Get a Job

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Warning: contains Alf Stewart spoilers.

Just because you’ve lost touch with someone doesn’t mean you don’t want to know when they fall into a sinkhole. That the point of Facebook – for keeping an eye on the triumphs and misfortunes of people you once knew but now can’t be bothered to talk to. Soap characters though, aren’t on Facebook. The closest you can get to nosing on their timeline is checking out at the front covers of TV listings magazines in supermarket queues to see who’s been getting married/murdered or, commonly, both.

It’s shameful when you think about it. Soap characters are people with whom we probably spent half an hour a day (an hour even, for the Australian ones, if you did the decent thing and also caught the lunchtime airing in school holidays), five days a week, for years and years and years. Then adulthood calls and pouf! It’s sayonara Harold, goodnight Madge. Take Alf Stewart of Home and Away. Once, the man was your straw-hatted rock. And now? Did you even bother to tune in for his 60th birthday celebrations in 2005? Thought not.

Assuming that you’ve been an adult with responsibilities that have kept you away from Summer Bay for at least 10, maybe even 20 years now, here’s what Ray Meagher’s Alf’s been going through while you’ve been merrily living life without giving him a single thought. It hasn’t all been organising the surf carnival, hunting bunyips, running the annual sausage sizzle and visiting Donald Fisher in the Whitsundays you know; Alf’s had it rough. And the very least you flamin’ mongrels can do is read about the time when…

He almost died in a sinkhole

A simple trip to Summer Bay High to discuss the delinquency of Alf’s grandson Ryder ended in disaster. A massive gas explosion in 2018 opened up a sinkhole under the school, trapping Alf and his daughter Roo. Unable to move under the rubble, Alf had a heart attack and thought his time had come, so he confessed to a dreadful secret: Roo’s mother Martha, thought drowned three years before Home and Away started in 1988, was still alive!

He was an unwitting bigamist

That whole Ailsa marriage? Not legit. Alf learned in 2018 that due to her personality disorder, his first wife Martha had faked her own death by drowning, leaving him and their daughter Roo. That made his subsequent marriage to Ailsa (curly hair. Had served time for the murder of her abusive father during which she was assaulted and impregnated by a prison guard then gave the baby up for adoption, died of a heart attack in 2000, just to remind you) accidentally unlawful. Alf married his original wife Martha for a second time in 2020, the old romantic.

He almost died of a brain tumour

For a while in 2003, Alf started acting weird. Some thought he was developing Alzheimer’s like his dad (also played by Ray Meagher in this flashback to Alf’s childhood), but no, it was a brain tumour. The tumour was pressing down on the part of Alf’s brain that made Judy Nunn, who played his dead second wife Ailsa, reappear as a recurring guest star in a multiple episode run. Ghost Ailsa kept trying to lure Alf to join her on the other side, culminating in a mid-brain surgery hallucination in the form of an It’s a Wonderful Life homage in which Ailsa showed Alf what Summer Bay would be like if he’d never been born.

He negotiated his sister’s hostage release from Nigerian rebels

In 2000, Alf’s little sister Celia was spreading the word of the Lord as a busybody missionary over in Nigeria when she and her companions were kidnapped and held hostage. Who sorted it? Not an international government body, but bait shop owner and president of the surf club: Alf. Off-screen, Alf ponied up the $50k it took to get Celia out, leaving him in a sticky financial situation back at the caravan park.

Movies

The inspirational heroism of Harold from Neighbours

By Louisa Mellor

Neighbours: a sober reflection on its pop music legacy

By Jamie Andrew

He almost died in an earthquake

This was back in 1996, so you may actually have been there for this one. Summer Bay was rocked by some tectonic plate-shifting, which destroyed Alf’s general store and triggered his dicky ticker giving him one of his many heart attacks.

He (very probably) had sex with his niece

Don’t judge Alf for this one, or his niece. They weren’t to know. (That said, considering the sheer volume of secret relatives returning decades after being given up for adoption in Aussie soaps, it would be sensible for any and all acts of sexual union to be preceded by a DNA test.) When the daughter a 15-year-old Colleen had given up for adoption arrived back in the Bay in 2003, now a grown-up named Maureen, she hit it off with Alf and eventually moved in with him. When he wanted to propose marriage, she got cold feet and left town. Five years later, a dug-up time capsule revealed that Colleen was the product of an affair between Alf’s dad and her mum, making Colleen Alf’s half-sister and Maureen… his niece.

He carried the Olympic torch

Okay, this was actually pretty nice for old Alf. Initially his feelings were hurt when Summer Bay High principal Donald Fisher was selected among the local dignitaries to carry the 2000 Sydney Olympics flame, but after some shenanigans, Alf got to jog that little burner right on through the Bay too.

He went to prison for nine months (and then again for nine weeks)

Following a nasty mayoral campaign, Alf was framed for embezzling money from the surf club by his dirty tricks-playing opponent Mayor Josh, who was trying to get rich from a development project that would destroy Summer Bay. Alf was wrongly convicted in 2006 and went to prison for nine whole months before his name was cleared. (Thus allowing actor Ray Meagher to star as mechanic Bob in the stage musical of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert.) Just four years later in 2010, Alf went back to prison for nine weeks after being framed for the murder of Penn Graham (which coincidentally allowed him to return to the musical for its London run).

He discovered the existence of not one but four surprise grandchildren

Literally all four of Alf’s grandkids were either kept secret from him or re-entered his life years after being given up for adoption. There are probably more out there, half a dozen wayward teens who need Alf’s steady hand and moral guidance. First there was Roo’s daughter Martha, the product of a teenage pregnancy and given up for adoption. (She briefly got viewers’ knickers in a twist by becoming a pole dancer). Then there was Bryce, the son of Alf’s estranged son Duncan, who didn’t tell Alf that Bryce existed until the kid was five years old because Alf didn’t approve of Bryce’s mother Caroline. Then came tearaway Ryder, the son of Alf’s surprise American daughter Quinn, who’d been the product of a fling he’d had with a nurse during the Vietnam War. And finally came Eric/Ric, son of Alf’s surprise wrong’un son Owen, the product of a teenage relationship Alf had with Viv “The Guv” Standish (judging by her name, a professional darts player) who’d been born in secret and given up for adoption. The Alf genes are strong.

Additional Alf events

In 1998 Alf got into trouble at the caravan park for letting a blind woman drive his car (Sidenote: Belinda Giblin, the actor who played the blind woman now plays Alf’s resurrected first/current wife Martha)

In 2000 Alf’s home was destroyed in a mud slide

In 2005 Alf turned 60 and Sally Fletcher gave a lovely speech at his birthday party

In 2009 Alf went on a shark hunt after a severed hand was found in the Bay

In 2010 Alf was traumatised by the Summer Bay Race Riot

In 2012 Alf caught Malaria helping to build a school in Thailand with Sally and Milco

In 2015 Alf suffered PTSD from fighting in the Vietnam War

In 2017 Alf heroically rescued a badly burned Marilyn from a bush fire. Bravo, sir, bravo.

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Home & Away currently airs on Channel 5 in the UK.

The post Everything That Happened to Home and Away’s Alf Stewart That You Missed Because You Had to Grow Up and Get a Job appeared first on Den of Geek.

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singledarkshade · 6 years

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The Lost Ones

Part Two - Michael

It was the kind of bar people came to drink and forget their problems. It was dimly lit with music playing in the background so people didn’t have to listen to their own thoughts.

Casey Miller, owner of the bar, had taken it over when her father died. Just over five foot with curly blonde hair and green eyes she didn’t look like she could handle the type of clientele that frequented the place. But she had grown up here and the regulars were all old friends of her father so she knew how to look after herself.

Casey poured a shot of whiskey for the man standing at the bar in front of her before she placed it behind her making him frown.

“I thought it was customary to serve the drinks you pour,” he glared at her, his English accent confirming he was not a native of Central City.

“For customers,” she smiled sweetly at him, “But you work for me.”

His blue eyes filled with ice, “Not at the moment.”

“Okay then, Michael,” she countered, “As your friend,” holding up his hand to stop him retorting, “Your only friend, I will let you have this once you eat something.”

“I don’t need anything to eat,” he snarled back leaning forward over her.

Casey rolled her eyes, despite the fact she was almost a foot smaller than he was, she wasn’t even slightly intimidated, “Seriously man, your clothes are beginning to wear you.”

He continued to glare at her sighing when she didn’t budge an inch, “Fine.”

Casey smiled patting his shoulder, “Pick me up my usual while you’re there.”

Michael Burns, once known as Rip Hunter, left the bar appropriately called ‘Anonymous’ heading to the Chinese Takeout a few blocks away that he and Casey ate from so often they didn’t have to actually order.

The name he’d adopted was deliberate.

Michael was the name he had been raised with, so he answered to it without thought, and not unusual so no one would think twice when hearing it. His surname however had taken some more consideration. He’d originally thought about using Coburn, the surname Miranda had chosen, but knew that it would be a bit obvious to the Legends so he went instead with Burns.

Luckily he had planned ahead for all eventualities when he started the Bureau ensuring there was money he could access that no one knew about if he needed to. He really didn’t want to live on the streets again.

Rip had decided that this was the best time period to stay in for the moment. The Bureau wouldn’t look for him so close to them. The Jumpship was too big a piece of tech to hide so he’d sent it back, making sure that the moment it reached its destination a virus destroyed all evidence of where it had been. Even then he’d uploaded a great deal of false information within its databanks just in case.

Luck had been on his side for once, Casey had been looking for a bartender after her last one was arrested due to a few outstanding warrants in Star City. The bar also had an extremely small apartment above it but it was fine for his requirements.

Noise behind him made him frown and stop walking.

“Look,” Rip stated coldly, “I am not in the mood for this. Either get lost or I will make you truly regret trying to rob me.”

A harsh laugh from behind him made Rip sigh. Sensing the prospective thief directly at his back Rip spun, grabbing the other man’s wrist twisting so the knife he was holding fell to the ground. Twisting even more the thief screamed when Rip snapped his wrist before punching him in the jaw sending him crashing to the ground into an unconscious heap.

Picking up the knife Rip examined it for a few moments before tucking it into his belt and walking away murmuring, “I told you you’d regret it.”

Casey smiled when Rip brought the bags of food into the small room behind the bar. She was right; she was his only friend here. He knew letting her this close was stupid because getting close to anyone was a bad idea. Everyone he cared for was taken from him.

But Rip was lonely.

He’d spent years being the only physical being on a time ship but had always had Gideon to talk to, to argue with and tell him when he was being an idiot. She’d been his lifeline when his family had been taken from him and without her...

“As promised,” Casey placed the glass of whiskey on the table in front of him.

He frowned at her as he opened his food. Eating Rip let the music Casey had put on wash over him.

He’d been here just under six months and did his best to remain hidden. Though, on a few occasions, he had put himself in position to witness a few incidents that were significant in the timeline of a few of Central City’s heroes because he couldn’t resist the chance to see them.

He was brought out of his thoughts when a breeze hit him, turning he found Casey standing on the small patio outside lighting a cigarette, her blonde curls blowing in her eyes.

“Thought you were quitting?” Rip asked.

Casey shrugged at him, “You quit drinking and I’ll quit smoking. Besides I make sure to smoke out here so I don’t ‘pollute your lungs’.”

Sighing Rip rubbed his hand across his eyes before tossing down the shot of whiskey, “I’m going to go get some sleep. See you tomorrow.”

“Michael,” she called to him, “I do worry about you.”

Rip stared at her for a moment before replying, “I’m fine. I’m not trying to kill myself. I just don’t care.”

*********************************************

Rip lay in the small bed staring at the ceiling trying to get the energy to move after another sleepless night. Sleep didn’t come easy to him; his nightmares were no longer soothed by Gideon entering his dreams. He usually had one full night’s rest every few weeks when the exhaustion chased them away. Glancing to the bedside cabinet his eyes focussed on his pocket watch showing the picture of Miranda and Jonas. Next to it sat the blackened cube that should have been Gideon’s refuge but was now only a reminder of the fact he’d failed to save her.

He’d failed everyone who was ever important to him. He hadn’t been lying when he told Casey he wasn’t trying to kill himself because he wasn’t. There were days when his losses became too much to bear that he couldn’t bring himself to care about anything.

Dragging himself out of bed Rip had a quick shower before dressing and heading downstairs to get the bar ready for opening. About half an hour into his shift Casey appeared, she handed him a roll and sausage smiling amused at his frown.

“You need to eat,” she reminded him, “I don’t want you to faint while serving drinks.”

Rip frowned, “You’re almost as bad as Gid...” he stopped sharply at the pain that went with saying her name.

Casey gave him a look that he knew meant she was desperate to ask but their unspoken agreement was that she didn’t ask about his past and he didn’t ask about hers.

“Just say thank you,” Casey rolled her eyes.

“Thank you,” Rip replied annoyed but he took a bite of the roll.

Working at the bar wasn’t that bad.

Rip knew it helped that this was the kind of place people didn’t expect conversation, just the alcohol they ordered. It also kept him busy so he didn’t obsess on the hideousness that was his life.

And then the worst possible thing happened.

“Do you not know any normal bars, man?” Jax’s voice came through the door.

Rip quickly ducked into the back of the bar, catching Casey’s arm, “You need to serve them.”

“Who?” Casey asked worriedly.

Rip took a quick look to check who was there, “Big mean looking guy, tall cheerful guy, the kid and blonde woman.”

“Michael?” she placed a hand on his arm concern in her eyes.

“They cannot know I’m here,” Rip stated intently.

She nodded, “Okay. I’ll serve them and you head upstairs. I’ll let you know when they’re gone.”

“Thanks, Casey,” he murmured, taking a few breaths to remain calm and not just run until he had a reason to.

She squeezed his arm before taking over the bar while he jogged up the stairs. Entering his apartment Rip quickly booted up his tablet and opened up the surveillance he had set up in the bar.

“So, we agree,” Sara noted as she sat with a beer in her hand, “Next time Mick does not get to choose the bar we go to.”

“Agreed,” Jax and Ray said while Mick just chuckled.

Jax sighed, “At least we were able to meet up. Though did anyone hear from Nate?”

“He’s helping the Star Labs team again,” Ray told him, “What about you? I heard you’re working for the Time Bureau?”

Jax shrugged, “Because of my experience with the time drive they offered me a job.”

“And you took it?” Mick demanded.

“I’m not the only one,” Jax said turning to Sara.

“What?” Ray gasped.

Sara shrugged, “Agent Sharpe recommended me to help train recruits. I did not want to go back into retail so I took the job. Besides they’re fixing the Waverider for us and it means I can keep up to date on the search for Rip, who apparently was the one who didn’t want us working with his precious Bureau.”

“Is Rip still missing?” Ray asked with a frown.

Sara nodded, “And they’re not happy. Apparently every bit of tech they use he had a hand in creating so he’s managed to subvert all their efforts to find him.”

“Good riddance,” Mick said.

Sara frowned at him, “Who gave him the scotch and told him his room was free?”

Mick shrugged, “Gideon had just died. I didn’t want to trip over him being miserable. How was I supposed to know he had tools and a way out in there?”

Rolling her eyes Sara ignored him, “Anyway, the Jumpship reappeared about three months ago with all information completely wiped. There have been a few sightings but they haven’t been able to find him.”

“I hope he’s okay,” Ray said softly, he frowned at the looks the others gave, “Come on, he might have...”

“Betrayed us and his new shiny Time Bureau?” Sara suggested with a smirk.

“Gideon was the last part of his family,” Ray reminded her, “You saw his face when she...died. He was utterly devastated.”

“Rip saw her as a person,” Jax reminded Sara, “We both saw that in his mind.”

“He was also our friend,” Ray stated.

Sara rolled her eyes, “When it suited him.”

“You do know you sound a bit like the dumped girlfriend you mocked him as,” Jax told her, dodging the swipe she aimed at him.

“Okay,” Ray finished his drink, “Can we find a slightly less grimy bar now we’ve had a drink here?”

Sara chuckled, “Fine. I think there’s a sports bar a couple of blocks from here.”

Rip watched his former colleagues leave the bar, hating how they now thought of him but he’d chosen his path for a reason. He’d been trying to protect them and the entirety of time because he’d accidentally created a bureaucracy. One who couldn’t decide the colour of the bloody pen to use for filling in the forms to start the process for his tribunal, never mind deal with a creature like Mallas. It was his own fault for trying to make a place completely different from the Time Masters because it had ended up going too far the other way.

A knock came at the door, “They’re gone, Michael.”

“Thanks,” he opened the door to her quickly saying, “It’s a long complicated story.”

Casey nodded, “I know the feeling. Can you go back to work?”

“Just give me ten minutes so I’m sure they’re completely gone?”

Rolling her eyes Casey headed back downstairs.

Rip rechecked his security feed watching the four people he’d once called his friends walk away. Finally they were far enough away he felt safe to head back down to finish his shift.

It took about a full three weeks before Rip felt secure again in his surroundings that he didn’t jump at every sound. It made sense Mick knew this bar. It was the kind of place he would have frequented before he joined the team.

He took the small risk of hacking into the Bureau to check on what he’d overheard from Sara and Jax. Rip had created several back doors into the system to allow him access whenever he needed. He knew it was a risk but he had to be sure they had no idea where or when he was. Which was why he made the trip to 2654 before making his incursion, just in case they did manage to track him despite the fact he was almost completely sure only Gideon could have caught him.

*********************************************

It was quiet as he wandered around the shops trying to get everything he needed before he picked up the items Casey wanted. She’d had handed him a list about a mile long when he mentioned on his day off he was going to the mall. Rip was almost certain there was no way he’d run into anyone who knew him but even then he made sure to go as early as possible.

It was getting to the stage he was beginning to think about moving on. The problem that presented was where and when. Without the Waverider it wasn’t an easy thing to research.

Grabbing some tea at the closest coffee shop he paused when he spotted Barry Allen and Cisco Ramon walking nearby discussing something as they drank their own coffee.

Rip sipped his tea sadly remembering when he would be watching two of Central City’s greatest heroes for a specific reason and not just because he happened to be walking nearby. His musings were interrupted when a little boy ran past him, the mother calling the child back. Seeing the boy turn Rip felt his breath catch in his throat at the blond hair and big blue eyes, so like his own son.

Finishing his tea Rip quickly walked the other way to get away from the memories.

He needed to leave.

Part Three

#fic #rip hunter #gideon #legends of tomorrow #supergirl #alex danvers #kara danvers

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lilsapphicmoon · 6 years

Text

Soft Mornings

A/N: yayayayay I finished another thing bc I had an idea and it was cute and I just had to write it. This is unedited. I hope you enjoy!!!

Word Count: 1211

Pairing: Sam Holland x Reader

Masterlist

Soft music, soft lights, soft rain, soft blankets.Soft music playing through a radio on a table next to the bed, Soft lights strung up around the room, never turned off the night before. Soft rain coming down on the roof, giving more background noise to the room. Soft blankets covering the bed they shared. Soft was how the morning could be described.

Soft hands running through soft hair of the boy sleeping next to her, working through a few of the curly tangles, tracing over the freckles that covered his face

They had stayed up most of the night before talking about nothing and everything, just being in each other’s presence. There’s no way to know exactly when they fell asleep, drifting in and out of sleep, talking and mumbling while sleeping. Sam knew that he had fallen asleep after her though. He watched how peaceful she looked while she slept for a while before he himself fell into the arms of sleep. But it’s (Y/N) who woke before him. She watched him a while like he did her the night before, watching how when she moved he would stir just a little.

He was laying on his stomach, arms curled under the pillow under his head, his face pushed into the pillow, turned toward her , mouth slightly open, snoring lightly. It was times like these that she loved the most. When it seemed like time stopped and it was just them. Nothing else mattered.

Her hand returns to his hair again, twisting the stands between her fingers before she catches his eyes fluttering open.

They share a smile before he moves himself so that she can lay closer to him. Her back pressed against his chest, his arms wrapped around her, and his face hiding in the crook of her neck. He mumbles something but it’s muffled by his hiding and her hair.

“What was that, love? I couldn’t hear you.”

He raises his head out of her hair and neck, “I said I want to stay like this forever. WIth you, and the music, and the rain, and the dark room with the soft lights.” His voice was deep and raspy and still full of sleep.

(Y/N) rolls over in his arms, facing him and wrapping an arm around him.

“Well it is a Saturday, and I don’t think anyone has made any plans for today… and we can just tell them that we aren’t doing anything today… we can stay here all day if that’s what you want.”

He smiled and nodded as he pulled her closer to him again.

“Hold on… Here now come here.” (Y/N) says after she lays down on her back.

He comes back over to her laying his head down on her chest and his arms wrapped around her with her hands running through his hair again and down his back. Sam falls back asleep after a while and she follows not long after.

It was a few hours later when Sam wakes up, still laying the way they fell asleep. He smiles at (Y/N) before hearing his stomach growl. As if on a cue, hers did the same.

Sam gets up of the bed and slips down the stairs to find an empty house. Giving him the perfect time to make some breakfast for (Y/N) and himself. He makes a small batch of muffins, some eggs and sausage. Before he can pick up the plates to take them upstairs to his sleeping beauty, he feels arms wrap around his torso.

“Hey, I was about to bring you breakfast. You hungry?”

(Y/N)’s stomach growls at the smell of food and the offer of it and she lets go of him and nods.

“Yes, please. I’m starving.”

“Wanna eat down here to take it back up to the room?”

She just turns and heads back towards the stairs, “Come on Sam, I wanna go lay back down.”

He follows her back up the stairs and back into the room, closing the door behind him.

They eat in what silence the room gives, with the background noise of the music and rain. Sam takes the plates when they’re done and sets them on the table on his side of the bed.

They curl back up like they were before, but reversed this time. Sam on his back running his hands through (Y/N)’s hair and down her back.

“How did you sleep last night, love? Once we finally fell asleep anyway,” He says with a chuckle.

“Good. And great the second time, until I woke up and you weren’t here. I was hoping you were making some breakfast when I got up. And thank you for that by the way, it was really good.”

Sam smiles and kisses the top of her head, “You’re welcome. I’ll make you breakfast anyday.”

They lay together without talking for a while, just listening to the music.

“Sam, we should dance. We haven’t done that in a while,” Already climbing out of the bed, grabbing Sam’s hand to drag him up too,” Come on. Dance with me.”

He laughs and they dance, to any song that plays.

“Hold on there’s a song I want to listen to,” Sam stops dancing to changes the music to the song he’s been waiting to play.

“I’ve been waiting on it but I guess I’ll just have to play it. Alright there we go.”

(Y/N) smiles at the freckle-faced boy as the song starts to play.

“How did I know you’d play this?”

“Because I always tell you this is my song for you.”

The pair sways to Perfect by Ed Sheeran like they have so many times before.

“Well I found a girl beautiful and sweet , I never knew you were the someone waiting for me, 'Cause we were just kids when we fell in love…” Sam sings to the girl in front of him.

She lays her head on his shoulder as they continue to sway to the music, humming the song to each other and themselves, arms wrapped around each other again.

Near the end of the song (Y/N) lifts her head to lock her eyes with Sam as she sings the last few lines back to him.

“I have faith in what I see, Now I know I have met an angel in person, And he looks perfect, I don't deserve this, You look perfect tonight.”

They both lean in closer to each other, but are interrupted by Harry knocking on the door. Sam rolls his eyes.

“Bro! We’ve got food if you’re hungry. Is (Y/N) still here? Can I come in?”

“Come on in Harry.”

Harry enters the room and sees (Y/N) and Sam standing close to each other, one of his arms still wrapped around her waist.

“I was interrupting something wasn’t I? Whoops. Well there’s food of ya’ want it. Go back to whatever cute thing you two were doing.”

Harry leaves the room, not closing the door behind him.

“Let’s go get some food. I’m hungry again. We can continue our cute moment when we get back.”

They share a laugh and he takes her hand as they walk down to the kitchen to greet the rest of the family.

Tagged: @incorrecttomhollandquoteimagines @teatimewrites @snowpupsstuff @spideyparkerimagines @whiskeyandstars @infiniteholland @sam-a-holland @tomshollandss @hufflepuffholland @thomas-spiderling-spacegays @planet-holland @rvrdxle @sidespidey @spacedoutsher @nonewmessage @tbholland @lovestrucktosaturn @honeynutholland @parkerscupcake @spidey-schxyler @thebrothersandtessa

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#sam holland #sam holland imagines #sam holland imagine #sam holland x reader #sam holland + reader #i wrote a thing #my fics #my writing #soft mornings

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