#mood swings be kicking my ass lads

[onewingednatu]

.

#personal #natu rambles #mood swings be kicking my ass lads #im cryin because i was trying to find mods for your kids in stardew #thatll actually make them attend school or the festivals (other than like two) #but something messed up and one of my kids got deleted :( #so i went a bit crazy and divorced elliott and used the witch's hut to wipe his memory and turn my other kid into a dove #and i found my son's hat in the lost and found bin and i completely broke #well #i guess this gives me an opportunity to try the sam Dialogue mod #i can also be roomates with krobus when i dump sam!!! #im gonna bully [sam] a lot lmao

[elizabeethan]

Never Nothing- Extra # 2

Another little extra for one of my favorite series!! Soft domestic fluff meets angst... There will be a follow up to this one, eventually.

For @the-darkdragonfly who wanted this to be a 12 part series… we’re halfway there baby

Rated T, mostly for language 

~4300 words

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~~~~

“Stop it.”

 “I’m only trying--”

 “No, stop it.” 

 “My love, if you’d just--”

 “I don’t want to!” 

 “--you may find that you feel better.”

 “I won’t. I will never feel better, ever, for as long as I live. I will feel exactly this horrible every second for the rest of my miserable life.” 

 Killian sighs softly, smiling at her despite how much it pisses her off and running his hand through her hair. “I’m sorry you’re feeling so uncomfortable.”

 “Having a baby in August is not a good plan.” 

 “No,” he agrees. “I’m sure you must be feeling rather miserable.” 

 She nods, pouting. “Extremely miserable.” 

 He softly kisses the tip of her nose, taking out the sunscreen he’s been begging her to wear and squirting some into his hands. “Now, just imagine how hot you’d be if we were still in Phoenix.” 

 “Shut up,” she grumbles, leaning forward just enough for him to get her back. 

 “You’re the one who suggested we come to the beach.”

 She glares up at him, her lips pressed into a tight line and her brows covering her eyes almost completely. “You’re on thin ice.”

 “I think you’ll find there’s no ice this time of year, my darling. It’s very hot out; it would melt.” 

He can’t blame her for being miserable. At 37 weeks pregnant in late July, she can’t seem to ever get comfortable. Her back hurts her endlessly, her hips are sore, she’s been suffering with horrible heartburn, and the mood swings are difficult to keep up with. 

 He wouldn’t have it any other way, though. 

 “Why don’t we get into the water? A bit of buoyancy is sure to help your back.”  

 She sighs in defeat and says, “I’ll probably just get sea sick. Or eaten by a shark. Or stung by a jellyfish.”

 He kisses her nose once more and takes her hand, hoisting her off of the chaise lounge and placing his palm on the small of her back where he knows she’s sore. “I’ll fight off the sharks and the jellyfish, my love.” 

 “Promise?” she asks as she waddles towards the shore with him. 

 “Of course.”

 She squeals as she tries to get into the chilly water, but once they’re in and she’s used to the cold, she relaxes a bit. His heart flutters when she leans back against his chest, letting him bear her weight as he runs his hand along her bump and presses a kiss to her shoulder. 

 Feeling her pressed against him makes the blood rush through his veins, and he’s glad for the cold water keeping any obvious signs of his arousal at bay. He’s always found her unbelievably sexy, but seeing her in her yellow bikini, her bump on full display, is enough for him to have almost kept her home today. 

 “I know what you’re thinking,” she grumbles, her voice barely audible over the sounds of the waves. “And no, we’re not doing it in the ocean.” 

 “I would perish at the thought of sullying your purity on a public beach, love.”

 “Purity,” she scoffs. “I’m knocked up at 22. Nothing pure about it.” 

 He kisses her neck, then her cheek, and holds her close to himself, his bare wrist pressed to the side of her belly and his hand holding it tenderly. “We've talked about this, love,” he murmurs against her skin. “How this child has come to be is not important. What’s important is how fiercely the two of us love him.”

 “I know,” she agrees softly, dropping her head to his shoulder and sighing as she lets herself relax further into his hold and into the gentle current of the sea. “I just wish… sometimes I just wish you were his dad.”

 He sways the two of them together gently, letting the waves carry them, and reminds her, “I fully intend to be. Biology isn’t really a factor here, my love.”

 She hums happily as she lets him support every ounce of her, effectively floating just below the surface with him holding her up. “I just feel… I love this baby more than anything. I don’t regret having him, I just kind of wish you'd been the one to knock me up.”

 “Me too,” he laughs, “but it’s alright, because this child will be as much my son as any that I sire.” 

 “I love you. Sorry I’m a bitch.” 

 “You’re the furthest thing from it, darling. I’ll not hear you talking about yourself in such a way.” 

 She hums again and shrugs. “I could probably chill out a bit. I’ve been pretty snappy.”

 “Well, you’re nine months pregnant.”

 “Maybe I’ll keep being bitchy after the baby’s born.”

 “I hope so. I like you when you’re fired up.”

 She lies in his arms for a while, content to float almost weightlessly in the water as the pressure of the babe she carries is finally relieved. He feels the lad kicking about beneath the water, likely entranced by the dancing waves, and chuckles softly each time he gets a strike to his palm. 

 “What would you like for dinner, my love?” he asks after a long silence falls between them. 

 “Chinese food,” she answers immediately. 

 “That’s a nice dream. What do you actually want, Miss High Blood Pressure?”

 “Baaaabe,” she groans, tossing her head back against his shoulder again and gripping his forearms. “I don’t want grilled chicken.”

 “You don’t have to have grilled chicken. We can stop for fish.”

 “The baby wants lo mein.”

 “He can have some after he’s born and his mother isn’t at risk for preeclampsia.” 

 She grumbles some more, her words incoherent and inaudible over the sound of the water lapping around them. “Chicken,” she finally concedes. “But only if you make that sauce you made last week.”

 With a snort, he asks, “you mean the one with the bacon in it?” 

 “That’s the one.”

 “Alright, love. Let’s get you out of the water before you give birth to a raisin.”

 “You’ve gotta work on your dad jokes.” 

 ~~~~

 The days seem to be getting longer and longer, time refusing to pass at a normal pace as she lives in constant torture and betrayal of her own body. She loves being pregnant, honestly, but it’s becoming a bit tiring. The baby she’s hauling around is heavy, and her back is killing her. Killian’s being very wary of her slightly elevated blood pressure when all she wants is Chinese food and chicken nuggets. Her mom still remembers her days as a perinatal nurse and won’t stop accidentally scaring her when she talks about what she’s seen during labor. 

 Killian’s looking forward to the delivery, and she tries not to let that piss her off. Of course, she’s more than elated to see him so excited for their child to be born, and she’s so lucky to have a partner who will be there for her throughout the whole thing. But each time he tries to show her something he’s read in a book, or a breathing exercise they can try together during contractions, she wants to chuck something at him. After all, she doesn’t believe that he’s truly ready for what her body will be doing in just a few short weeks. 

 “During a contraction, I can try to massage your lower back if you’re standing. How does that sound?”

 “Standing?” she asks doubtfully. “I can barely stand during cramps.”

 “Don’t let him fool you; the massages don’t help,” Granny says ominously while she places her plate before her. While he’s been very strict about her diet, Killian can’t keep her from getting her French toast from Granny’s on Sunday mornings. 

 “And did you have a walking epidural when you delivered in the Enchanted Forest, Granny?” he asks, his tone sarcastic. 

 She rolls her eyes as she places his eggs in front of him. 

 Taking a deep breath with her eyes squeezed shut, Emma places her hand on the top of her bump as a zip of hot pain rushes up her chest and into her throat. Killian’s silent and still as he watches her, holding his fork above his plate as his brows furrow while she waits for it to pass. Once the pain subsides, he asks, “alright?” 

 “Heartburn,” she breathes. He pushes her glass of water towards her encouragingly as she breathes steadily. “Damn.”

 “It won’t be long, love.”

 “Yeah, he better make an appearance soon. I wanna meet him so bad, and I wouldn’t mind if the indigestion went away.”

 “Morning,” Ruby says happily as she refills Killian’s mug, much to Emma’s jealous vexation. 

 “Morning Ruby. What’s the report for this week?” he asks, happily going along with her perception of herself as the town crier. 

 “Not much, but there’s someone new in town. Can you believe that? The dwarves are doing some research to find out if that means we can leave.” 

 “Well, that will certainly be interesting,” he agrees, giving Emma a happy smile. They haven’t even bothered to attempt to leave themselves, although it’s suspected that they can. 

 “And everyone is excited to have a newcomer.”

 “I’m sure he must be a really interesting character, what with him wanting to come to Storybrooke.” 

 Emma snorts, digging into her breakfast once her least favorite pregnancy symptom subsides completely. 

 “I haven’t met him, but I’ve heard he is kind of an ass.”

 Moments later, her parents bustle into the diner and greet her with a broad smile as they approach them. “Hi honey!” her mom says happily. 

 “Morning,” she smiles. 

 “How are you feeling?” she asks as she and David scoot the two of them down in their booths. “How’s my sweet little grandson?” 

 Mary Margaret places a gentle hand over Emma’s bump and she stiffens just a bit. It always feels weird to have anyone but Killian put their hands on her belly. “Okay. He keeps flopping around and giving me heartburn.” 

 She hums in understanding, patting her belly. “Have you heard about someone new being in town?”

 “We were just briefed by Ruby,” Killian answers. 

 “Well, I met him very briefly. He’s handsome and very charming.” 

 “I don’t think Emma or Hook care much about that, Snow,” David says, and Emma nods. 

 “Well, I heard he’s coming here for breakfast today. Isn’t that exciting? You two won’t be the newcomers anymore.” 

 Emma laughs and nods through another bite. “I guess that’s true.” 

 They continue to chat through their meal, David talking about his job as an animal control officer. Apparently, they’re thinking about adopting a dog he’d rescued a week ago, and Emma’s only seen him beam like this a few times in the short time she’s known him. Things are good, the French toast isn’t giving her heartburn, she thinks she’s going to have a good day. 

 Until the bell above the door rings. 

 And he walks in. 

 She takes in a gasping breath, her eyes bugging out of her head as she swings her head away from the door. “Alright?” Killian asks her softly, leaning over the table and taking her hand. 

 She shakes her head and feels his body go rigid with panic. If they weren’t trapped in the booth by her parents, she would grab his hand and run out the back door of the diner to escape him. 

 “Heartburn?” Killian asks softly, not yet alerting her parents of her sudden shift in mood. “Braxton Hicks? Contractions?!”

 “No,” she croaks. 

 “What is it, angel? Talk to me.”

 She chances a look towards the door and sees him talking with Ruby, probably flirting with her shamelessly. Then, she looks back at Killian and whispers, “Neal.”

 He raises a brow in thought and then she watches as the pieces of the puzzle click into place. He nods once, looking towards the door and grimacing. Ruby starts to guide Neal towards a table and Mary Margaret gives him a friendly, excited wave before Emma can stop her. She wants to put her head through the table; maybe he won’t see her if she does that. 

 The only saving grace is the fact that she can spread her legs out and tuck her bump under the table. The last thing she wants right now is for him to find out that he fertilized the egg that became her son. 

 “Mary Margaret, right? Hi,” he greets casually. “And this must be your husband, and--”

 He’s staring, but not at her. He’s gaping at Killian. 

 “What the… Hook?”

 Killian looks as baffled as Emma must, and he gives her a look of confusion that tells her he has no idea what’s going on. Only, when he looks at her, so does Neal. 

 “Emma?!”

 “You two know each other?”

 “Oh my god,” she grumbles, dropping her head to her folded arms on the table. She’d pushed her plate away, unable to eat anything more as the stress of her sperm donor making an appearance in her life eats away at her. 

 “Darling, perhaps we should--” Before he can continue, she kicks him under the table, not wishing to let Neal know anything personal about her, especially the fact that she and Killian are together and that she’s expecting a baby in a few weeks. 

 “Darling? Are you two, like, dating or something?” 

 “Emma and Ho-- Killian live together,” her mother supplies, and Emma rolls her eyes. 

 “Huh,” Neal says in response. “You sure do move on fast.” 

 “Mate, that’s not--”

 “I’m not your mate, pirate.”

 Killian chuckles awkwardly and asks, “do we know each other?” 

 Neal looks like he’s ready to snap, perhaps jump across the table and strangle Killian at his cocky response, but he’s interrupted by the door opening again and Mr. Gold entering the diner. “Bae,” he calls, not yet taking notice of what he’s doing or who he’s talking to. “What are you doing?”

 “Bae,” Killian breathes, staring up at Neal and Mr. Gold in astonishment. “You… you’re Neal?”

 “What is going on?” Emma asks through gritted teeth, wanting nothing more than to escape. The position she’s put herself in in order to hide her bump is horribly uncomfortable on her back (and she probably looks ridiculous), and all she wants to do now is go home and sit on her new couch. 

 “What’s going on is your boyfriend is a piece of shit,” Neal spits at her. “You sure know how to pick ‘em.” 

 “What, like I picked you? Lot of good that did me, what with the police, and the court hearings, and the community service, and the--”

 “Honey… This is Neal? I thought your name was Bae.” 

 “It was,” Neal grumbles back, turning towards his father and then back to Emma. “You told your parents about me?” 

 “Well, she kind of had to,” David responds condescendingly. “What with the--”

 “Dad. Please stop.” 

 “The what?”

 “Son, let’s go enjoy our breakfast and leave the family drama for later.” 

 The baby starts wiggling just as another bout of heartburn curses her, and she hisses, pushing her fist against her chest and leaning forward even more until she’s in an awkward position. “Honey, you need some tums. I told you, they’re safe for the ba--”

 “I’m fine,” she seethes, swallowing and breathing deeply through the feeling of lava crawling up her throat. She wants to leave so badly, but the moment she moves to stand, her pregnancy will become more than obvious. 

 “Family drama,” Neal laughs. “That’s rich, isn’t it, Hook? First my mom and now my girlfriend?”

 Emma glares up at him, practicing her mom-look. “Go away,” she insists.

 He scoffs and says, “Ems, come on. Let's get you out of here.” 

 “Excuse me?” 

 “Bae is Neal?” Killian asks through continued astonishment, looking down at his hand with his mouth agape, his brows furrowed. 

 “Stop calling me that,” Neal snaps. “You lost your right to talk to me when you killed my mother and sold me to Pan.” 

 Emma knows this isn’t true; Killian told her the story about the Crocodile murdering his first love in front of him. He told her about how he found her son years later and wanted to raise him as his own. She just had no idea that her son was… Neal. Evidently, Killian didn’t either. 

 “Neal, go away. Leave us alone like you left me to rot.”

 “I did that for your own good. You had to break the curse.” 

 “Right,” she scoffs. She wants nothing more than to rub in his face the fact that he abandoned her, homeless and poor and pregnant, but she holds in her anger. Truthfully, Neal leaving was one of the better things to have happened to her. It gave her Killian and their baby. It brought her to her family. It helped her find out who she is.

 Those facts don't make his betrayal sting any less, though.

 “Killian, maybe you should take Emma home,” her mother suggests through the haze of anger and confusion surrounding the table. He looks up at Snow, his jaw still dropped towards the floor and his eyes swimming with the guilt of his past, and nods. 

 “Aye,” he agrees, shaking his head and taking Emma’s hands. “Come, love. Let’s sail away.” 

 She wants nothing more than to agree, to nod and smile at him, taking his hands and letting him lead her out of the diner, but Neal remains firmly planted outside of their booth. If she stands now, she’ll reveal herself. She looks at Killian meaningfully with wide eyes, then glances down towards her belly and up in Neal’s direction. 

 He understands effortlessly and turns towards Neal, asking, “do you mind, mate? We’d like to head out.” 

 Neal rolls his eyes and concedes, stepping away from their booth and towards his father, and Mary Margaret and David stand to give them a path out of their seats. They're almost home free-- she can see the light at the end of the diner-- Killian leading the way and effectively hiding the evidence of her pregnancy. Or so she thinks. 

 Just as Killian’s hand reaches the door, about to push it open and gain their sweet escape, Ruby cuts them off with an excited greeting to Emma, reaching to give her a hug as she usually does and asking, “how’s my favorite little nephew doing? What is it now; three weeks to go?” 

 Emma freezes, eyes wide and face pale as Killian’s back goes stiff in front of her. The diner is silent, the early breakfast rush long over, and she knows Neal heard her. It’s confirmed when she hears the scratch of the chair against the floor as he stands and calls, “what, so he knocked you up, too? What a stand-up guy.” 

 The blood in her veins chills at his statements. Her jaw starts hurting with how forcefully she’s clenching it. She watches Killian turn around and fears that he’s going to confront Neal with the truth. In reality, though, he turns and looks only at her, taking her hands in his easily despite the fact that one is missing, courtesy of her ex’s father. “It’s alright,” he whispers, showing her just how much he understands her. Showing her that he can tell exactly what she’s thinking; can read the fear in her eyes at the thought of Neal finding out that this child is technically a part of him. “We can go,” he tells her. 

 She can’t help but to spin around, half turning to face Neal with tearfilled eyes, looking at him just once so that she can remind herself of the mistakes she’s made in her past. So that she can compare the despair he brought her with the joy that Killian brings so effortlessly. But it’s a mistake. She watches as his face falls, seemingly seeing just how pregnant she really is. 

 “Is that… are you…” He looks up at the ceiling, flexing his fingers as if counting on them. Counting the months since they were last together. Realizing it’s been almost nine months since their last encounter. Taking in just how large her bump is. “Emma…?”

 She should just turn around and leave, or ignore him; refuse to give attention to his thoughts so that she doesn't spur them on. But instead, she lets out a choked sob and buries her face in her hands as her tears flow freely. 

 Killian’s hand is on her back immediately, running soothing circles along her skin as he moves to stand in front of her and blocks her view of the rest of the world, consuming her with only his ocean-blue eyes. “It’s alright,” he whispers again. 

 “Did she say three weeks left? Is that…”

 “It’s okay,” he murmurs, and although Neal’s voice cuts through the air between them like a knife, all she sees is Killian. 

 “I wanna go home,” she cries softly, clinging to his hand and hook. 

 “We will,” he promises. 

 “Emma, is that my kid?”

 She can’t respond. All she can do is tilt her body slightly so that she’s looking past Killian’s right into Neal’s eyes, showing him the truth in her own. She can’t tell him with words that he fathered a child with her, but she knows that the look on her face is enough confirmation when his own pales and he drops back down in his chair. 

 He only stays there for a second before forcefully standing again, the chair colliding with the floor. Gold begs, “Bae,” reaching his hand towards his son, and Neal violently rips away from his father. 

 “Don’t!” He shouts. “Fuck.” 

 Before anyone can say anything, Neal is stalking towards Emma and Killian, and she almost feels nervous for a second, until he brushes past the two of them and slams his way out the door. 

 ~~~~

 Her lip trembles as he shuts the door, and she spins into his arms the second he locks it, bursting into tears easily. “He’s gonna take him,” she cries. 

 “Emma, no. That isn’t going to happen, love.” 

 She sobs some more, gripping his shirt with white knuckles, nodding into his neck and pulling him as close to herself as she possibly can with the bump between them. “He is.” 

 “You saw his face when he found out, darling. He has no interest. He’s already running.”

 “Everything was so perfect. Now it’s ruined.”

 “Nothing is ruined, my love,” he argues. “What makes you even say that?”

 She shudders in his arms, whimpering pathetically as the hormones take over and the fear of losing her child consumes her. “I wanted--” she chokes. “I wanted you to be his dad.” 

 When he pulls away from her, forcing her face from his neck, she cries out again, pained at the thought that she’s losing him, too. “Angel,” he murmurs softly, soothingly. “I am his dad. Perhaps the lad will simply be lucky enough to have two.”

 The violence behind her choked breathing is palpable between the two of them, showing him just how distraught she truly is as she asks, “you mean-- you mean you’re not leaving?”

 “You silly thing,” he breathes through a gentle laugh, pressing their foreheads together. “Do you really believe that that fool coming into our lives will sway me? I love you. Both of you.” 

 Her bottom lip trembles again as his hand slides along the side of her belly, the baby kicking against his palm in greeting. The fact that he didn’t stir when faced with his biological father doesn’t get past her as he wiggles against his dad lovingly. She lets out one last soft, whimpering sob and sniffles before saying, “I love you. We both love you.”

 He kisses her gently despite the tears and snot, making her laugh lightly. “Bae knows what it is to have an absent father, love. I’m… I’m truly shocked to know that the boy who lived on my ship all those years ago has done this to you. But I do believe that, now that he knows, he’ll do what he can to support you and the little lad. I believe he’ll do the right thing.”

 “Maybe I don’t want him to,” she pouts. 

 He smiles, cupping her cheek, and says, “that’s valid. And I know you're scared. But we’ll just have to sort out what’s best for the little one.” 

 With a heaving sigh, she drops her forehead to his chest and shuts her eyes. “Right now, what’s best for the little one is a nap.”

 “It’s only 10:30,” he jests, but despite his argument, he places his hand on the small of her back and guides her towards their bedroom. “Need a snack?”

 “More French toast.”

 “No. An apple.”

 “Never mind,” she grumbles, pouting as she collapses on the bed and holds up her feet until he starts pulling her sandals off. He shakes his head as he laughs lightly, running his thumb over her swollen feet and kissing her cankles. “Killian?” she whispers quietly. 

 “Aye, love?” he asks, almost as softly as he crawls up towards her and helps her lean back onto the bed. 

 She grunts unattractively as her swollen body flops like a fish across the mattress, drawing a soft smile from his lips. “I’m scared,” she whispers when his front wraps around her back. 

 “Aye, love. I know.” His hand slides across her giant bump, the baby kicking him gently, and kisses just behind her ear. “But you’re going to be fantastic. You’re so strong, and smart, and capable of anything you set your mind to.”

 “Then why can’t I just magic him out of here?”

 “Bae?” he asks with a surprised laugh. 

 “Yeah, I’ve been trying since we got home.”

 “You are a silly thing. And I love you very much.”

 With a contented hum, she pulls him closer to her despite the heat. “I love you, but let me sleep now.”

 “As you wish, my angel.”

~~~~

~~~~

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#Never Nothing #extra #captain swan #captain swan fanfic #cs ff #never nothing ff #cs fluff #cs angst

[capriccio-con-espressione]

Teacher’s Day

（©GIF cred)

A/N: Happy birthday to our comedic meme material prince Hendery!😘 This is a re-upload from my old acc so I hope you guys enjoy! (P.S. Reuploaded again since the previous one failed to show up in tags)

Genre: Smut

Word Count: 3027

Warning:  Bratty Sub!Hendery, Dom!Reader, Femdom, Teacher/Student Roleplay, Profanity, Hair pulling, Spanking, Wedgie, Degradation, Anal play, Sex toys, Titty sucking/worshipping, Writing lines as punishment

  “How much longer?” Blindfolded Hendery whines while you are leading him to the designated room for his birthday playtime, but this impatient boy obviously can’t wait.

  “What is my surprise, to be exact?” The boy continues to inquire. “I hope I won’t be walking blindfolded for too much longer or I am starting to think that you are taking me to the slaughterhouse like I am a piglet!”

  “I’ll make sure your surprise is worth the wait if you stop being this inquisitive.” You stop your leading steps. “Seriously? A piglet? Can you not ruin the mood by goofing around and exaggerating things this much?”

  “Okay okay I am sorry.” Hendery playfully apologizes. “First asking me to wear the uniform from the Back to School Kit, second blindfolding me like this, I am really dying to know what it is!”

  “Shh be patient.” You smirk while finally leading him inside the room, instructing him to sit down in a chair. “Do you know what’s special about today?”

  “My birthday, of course! Why ask?” He asks, puzzled.

  “It’s also Teachers’ Day in Taiwan as well.” You half-whisper in his ear while taking off his blindfold. “So I’d better teach you some manners as well as something unforgettable on this day…”

  Hendery’s vision clears up as he glances around his surroundings: a blackboard with capitalized letters “DETENTION” written on it, a podium in the front left of the room, and several sets of desk and chairs arranged in neat rows while he’s seated in one of them, with a typical school bag hanging from the hook on the right side of his desk.

  “Wow this looks legit…” He compliments. “So this is why the school uniform?”

  You reply in a sly hum, picking up the 50-cm iron ruler originally leaning against the podium before approaching him. “I remember you mentioning role-play to spice up our sex life, so I figured this can be the peak of your birthday. You like that, my naughty schoolboy?” You smirk alluringly while tilting his chin up with the ruler.

  “Fuck yeah, this will be amazing…”

  You slam the ruler menacingly loud against his desk, startling him a bit. “Words, Hendery. No profanity allowed in this class. Aren’t you aware of the trouble you are in right now?” You motion toward the capitalized words on the blackboard.

  “Hmmm...I have no idea…” He feigns innocence in those bright piercing eyes, in an obvious attempt to annoy you.

  “Such an impudent lad. You are in detention because you don’t hand in assignments on time, slacking off in your studies, and last but not least, bad-mouthing your teacher.” You close in on him while maintaining a glare. “Are you sorry for what you did?”

  “No, y/n-”

  “How dare you call me by my first name?”

  “Look, Miss Y/L/N I don’t really care. I am a very busy guy and you are just wasting my time.” He grins cheekily. “I am going to miss my club practice. I promise I will do better, so can’t you just let it go this time?”

  “I don’t trust your empty promises, Hendery, especially this isn’t the first time you let me down.” You cross your arms. “And you shouldn’t be allowed any club activities since you fail to prioritize things correctly. You should sit here, properly complete the assignments you have missed under my supervision, and you are free to go after that. It’s that simple.”

  “Why are you giving me such a hard time, Miss?”

  “I am not being hard and unreasonable on you, all I am asking you to do is something that aids your learning and done by the rest of your peers, plus, you won’t know what your problems with learning are without these practices.” You sigh while taking out the workbook from the schoolbag and place it right in front of him. “Now stop complaining and do it.” You order as you sit down next to him.

  Hendery huffs and reluctantly flips through the book to find the marked pages for this session. “20 pages of mathematics with 30 questions on each one? Are you insane?”

  “This is the accumulated result of your indolence, boy. And you sure it’s appropriate to call your teacher insane?”

  “Right right I am so sorry Miss-” 

  “Apologize properly.” You grab his arm to get all his attention, starting to get sick of his dismissive attitude and playing nice with him.

  “I am really sorry that I called you insane, Miss Y/L/N...” His voice trails off at the end of the sentence while he diverts his attention to the questions in front of him again.

  You watch him scribble down answers on the pages intently to see his every move, so when his arm scoots suspiciously close to the corner of the page where he’s writing something, you immediately take notice of it.

  You abruptly stand up and snatch away the book from him with a strong force, making his eyes widen with disbelief. “‘Miss Y/L/N is an annoying bitch’? This is what I get after being this patient and communicative with you?” You continue to read the contents of the page. “And none of the answers are correct! You are really giving me attitude, huh?”

  “Why should I listen to you when you’re such a pain in my ass?”

  “Pain in my ass isn’t it? Now I should really inflict some real pain on your ass.” He yelps as you yank him by his hair, forcing him to stand up. “Bend over.”

  Hendery winces at the burning sensation on his scalp as he complies, then you let go and press his waist down firmly against the desk as your other arm immediately delivers a sharp blow on his bottom.

  “Apologize.” You order sternly after a dozen spanks.

  “Never.” He retorts with a grunt.

  “Such a shameless brat.” You muse while pulling down his trousers, then pull up his boxers between his cheeks and give a firm tug on it, causing him to whine in discomfort.

  “Still unapologetic?” You sneer before giving a harsh slap on his bare flesh.

  “Please stop...Miss...and I am really sorry…”

  “Sorry for what?”

  “I-I am sorry for disrespecting you!”

  “Then? What about your horrible work on your assignment?” You resume spanking him again.

  “Mmmf- I am sorry for messing up my homework! Please stop wedging me I beg you, Miss.”

  You snigger at his plead and how easy it is to break him, but still you aren’t satisfied. “Combine your apologies into a sentence together and I will consider, and you’d better be earnest enough.”

  “Ahh-I apologize sincerely for calling you bad names, a-and slacking off in my studies then failing to do my homework properly! Please Miss I feel so guilty right now…” He whimpers and shifts his butt, trying to minimize the soreness.

  “Very well.” You decide not to be too hard on him at first to save it for later and release the fabric. Hendery sighs in relief, only to experience a similar mishap soon after again. 

  “You forgot to thank me, you poor-mannered lad.” You smirk at his misfortune, tweaking the clothing harder than last time, feeling amused that your boyfriend always falls into this trap by forgetting to express his gratitude when you just decide to have a little mercy on him.

  “P-please Miss I am sorry for not remembering to thank you...ahhh…please I’ll be good...just spare me some mercy please…”

  “How should I believe that you will have the brain to remember such basic manners next time, you airhead?”

  “I-I will endure whatever it takes for you to believe in me, Miss. I am truly sorry…”

  “Whatever, huh?” You mock his tone while shoving both his undergarments down his ankles. “You are going to take a sound spanking. Better remember to count out every spank and thank me afterward. Is that clear?” 

  “Yes, Miss. I won’t forget it this time.”

  You swing the ruler in the air, warming your arm up, before striking his bare bottom.

  “One! Th-thank you, Miss.”

  You smack him again, but harder this time.

  “Two! Ahh-thank you, Miss.” He kicks his legs, but only to find them restrained with his garments, which just excites him more.

  You then continue to mercilessly redden his ass, interspersing the punishment with some sensual soothing rubs in between to prepare him for the sting and arouse him, and remain the same dynamic and rhythm until the twentieth spank, when you suddenly pick up the pace and inflict him with four consecutive blows.

  “Twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty-three, twenty-four. Hnngh-thank you, Miss…” His voice falters.

  “See? You are not that bad at calculating. Why did you mess up your math homework that much then?” You ask before smacking him for the twenty-fifth time.

  “Twenty-five...thank you, Miss. I am sorry that I deliberately screwed up because I am just a defiant brat!”

  “Then you promise to do your best in your work in the future?” You inquire, amused by his admittance while continuing his punishment.

  “I will...I promise I won’t let you down ever again, Miss.” He assures you after counting out and thanking you.

  “You promise you will be a pliant pupil that listens well to his teacher?”

  “Ah-twenty-seven, thank you, Miss. I promise I will listen to you and obey you like a good student should do.”

  “Very well. So you should never violate any school rules again, right?” You foreshadow what the plot of your session will lead, before whipping him for the last time.

  “Twenty-eight...thank you, Miss. I promise I will abide by the rules.” He replies obediently, oblivious about the whole thing since it’s arranged as a surprise event.

  “Good boy.” You praise before caressing his sore butt, brushing his inner thighs from time to time as he moans at your sensual touches. “You didn’t just miss out on math, but other subjects as well. Should I take out the other study materials for you so that you have an overall understanding of what you should do?”

  “Yes, please. Thank you, Miss Y/L/N. May I sit down now?”

  “Just a minute…” You reply, searching through the schoolbag while taking your mischievous plan to work. “What are these doing in your bag, Hendery?” You demand sternly, laying two objects in front of him.

  Hendery becomes speechless at the sight of the large, rounded realistic silicone boobs and the veiny, ridgy dildo.

  “Care to explain what this is for?” You deliberately ask while pointing at the tits. Excitement boils inside you as you expect his answer.

  “This…is to fuck myself between them.” He shamelessly responds, with a devilish grin and a twitching dick, indicating his liking toward this turn of the plot.

  “How about this?” You motion at the dildo.

  “This is what I use to get a hot girl like you to fuck me to paradise…” He smirks dreamily, thinking of what you will do to him with it as you smirk at his sudden compliment.

  “Now I see the main reason that your grades are slipping. You are not only unwilling to study hard, but also you are a lecherous slut! You should know well porno stuff is obviously prohibited in school, but I remember you promising me that you will not break any rule just now?”

  “It was too late then, I already brought them before promising you.”

  “That still doesn’t justify your behavior. You should be punished again. Remember you saying that you will obey me?” You grin knowingly as you lightly patted the ruler against your palm.

  “Yes, Miss. Please punish me all you want as long as you won’t tell the authorities.”

  You simper at his literal beg to get punished. “Why should I report you to my superiors,” You position the fake boobs right under his face, “when I can have all the fun and enjoy the little show myself?” You tap the ruler against his ass once again. “Now suck it just like what you will do to your dream girl, filthy boy whore. You may not be the best at your studies, but you’d better not disappoint me with this.”

  Hendery happily commences engulfing the artificial mound while grimacing at the blooming tingle on his behind. The lewd sounds of him greedily slurping and lapping on the toy, the sight of his body squirming under your punitive ruler, and the corruptive contrast of his aristocratic profile doing the most sordid thing ever, all turn you on with the growing need for him to pleasure you.

  “Are you wiggling your naughty ass just to direct me to hit where you crave the pain the most, you seamy little slutboy?” You comment on his writhing backside as he nods in affirmation while continuing servicing the tits.

  “Perhaps you will love it when I abuse you here, right?” You wickedly tuck the ruler between his cheeks, earning a moan from him.

  “Would you like sucking real tits, or maybe you just prefer fawning over silicones?” You sneer, knowing the answer too well as you rub the ruler on his rear entrance.

  “I love real beautiful boobs more, of course, especially those of yours, Miss…” Hendery replies through moans, finally looking up at you from the saliva-covered toy while not forgetting to flatter you.

  “Hmm you finally know how to properly treat your teacher now, huh?” You remark as you unbutton your blouse then free your boobs from the lacy cups. “Worship them.”

  Hendery starts sucking on your breast after an admiring stare. “Since you’ve got your mouth worked up, I think I should stuff your other orifice too…” You say while coating both his ass, your fingers and the dildo with profuse lube. After gradually adding fingers to stretch him wide enough, you begin to slam into his needy prostate with the dildo, savoring the feeling of his wetness and vibrations coating your sensitive areas as well.

  Both his hands grab and fondle the base of your boobs for support as his knees buckle a little at the sensation deep inside his behind. You tangle the fingers of your free hand into his hair, forcing him to make eye contact with you with a firm tug.

  “Why do you turn to sex toys and risk bringing them to school, while your teacher is here to counsel you with both your studies and insatiable needs?”

  “B-because I want you to f-fuck and punish me for being a slut…” He flicks his tongue on your erect nipple after replying.

  “Is this why you got yourself in detention in the first place? Acting bratty in hopes of the opportunity to get some sexy discipline?”

  “Mmm yeah…” Your “student” that used to be so deviant is now moaning mindlessly between pants and sucking while looking up at you so lovingly yet indecently, urging you to ram his ass even harder and faster. Blissful tears start to stream out of his lust-filled eyes as you shove his uniform jacket down below his shoulders, loosen his tie then undo his first few upper buttons to turn him into a disheveled mess even more. Seeing him rendered to a state like this plus the stimuli on your nipples cause your core to drip with satisfying needs.

  “Such a messy needy baby...do you want to cum?” You coo as he quickly nods in response.

  “Then will you manage your time well and complete your assignment properly?”

  “...Yes, I will, Miss.”

  “Will you be respectful to your teacher from now on?”

  “Mmm of course I will, especially to my favorite teacher…”

  “Last but not least, will you turn to your teacher for help when necessary instead of wanking with stupid toys?”

  “Definitely, because my teacher feels so much better…”

  “Good. Now you are allowed to cum as much as you want.” 

  Hendery cums after muttering some gratitude, not forgetting his manners this time. You indulge in a slow sensual kiss with him afterward, drawing him out of the orgasmic haze while whispering some praises to him, slowly guiding him back to his senses as well as doing a quick clean-up of body fluids.

  “Did you know you just came with your dick completely untouched?” You playfully taunt.

  “I know you are that good…” He sheepishly grins at you.

  “Now one more thing for you to do as a reminder to always be a good boy.” You gesture toward the blackboard. “Write 28 repeated lines of ‘I will respect my teacher at all times’.”

  “Sure.” He quickly answers while reaching down to pull up his trousers.

  “Did I give you permission to re-dress?” You disapprovingly question.

  “No, Miss…” He slightly blushes. “But it’s so embarrassing…” He mutters in protest while wobbling toward the board. covering himself.

  “That’s the purpose of this punishment, making you so humiliated and disheveled that you will never forget your lesson.”

   Hendery sighs while picking up the chalk, and starts scribbling down the requested line. The first ten lines look passable but after that, his writing begins to get sloppy.

  “Rewrite this.” You erase the line that you deem intolerable.

  “But-”

  “No ‘buts’, unless you want some thrashing again.”

  Your schoolboy groans but still has no choice but to comply, peeking at the board eraser in your hand while making efforts to win your approval. Finally, he reaches the 28th line without the need for you to demand him to rewrite anything.

  “Well done, that’s my good boy.” You continue to compliment his obedience and hard work, embracing him while massaging some cool lotion into his still rosy ass, before helping him to re-dress.

  “Do you like my way of discipline?”

  “A lot. But you hit me so hard…” He jokingly glares before nuzzling against the crook of your neck, planting some wet kisses on it.

  “I am already giving you enough privilege to suck my tits for this long, so be grateful.” He whines in response upon hearing this but holds on you even tighter, while subtly grinding against your chest.

  “Happy birthday.” You utter affectionately, completely immersed in the intimacy while sensing his gorgeous features beaming in return.

  “Happy Teacher’s Day.”

#hendery #hendery smut #subidolnet #nct #wayv #nct smut #wayv smut #hendery imagines #nct imagines #wayv imagines #sub!nct smut #sub!wayv smut #huang guanheng #wong kunhang #sub!kpop #sub!idol #sub!idol imagines #sub!idol smut #dom!reader #my writings #teacher's day

[bellatrixobsessed1]

Kissing Dead Pearls (Part 30)

At first glance it is all the same, he almost thinks that he might have been overthinking things. The water still laps at the aged wood of the boardwalk. The ferris wheel upon the boardwalk still circles. The Sea Candle still casts its beam over the waves. 

Azula smiles at the familiar sight of it. He thinks that it must be exhilarating to have a beacon cast by her own home, lovingly guide her back to it. It is jubilant for him even if it isn’t his home. It stands upon the cliffside, proud as ever. 

Ozai steers the ship towards the strip of sand just on the other side of the cliff. The same sand that Azula had shoveled into his face while making sand castles. The same sand he and Katara used to throw at each other during childhood arguments. The same sand that his family always picniced on. 

Sokka’s heart swells. 

His family.

Kya. 

Hakoda. 

The restaurant. 

“Welcome home, Sokka.” Azula murmurs. She rolls her eyes, “you’re really crying?”

“It was only one tear.” He brushes it away. 

“I can’t wait to show you the restaurant!” Katara grins. 

Admittedly his legs are wobbly with nerves as his feet meet the sand. 

“Now listen, boy.” Ozai starts. “You’re going to get one final night of peace. By tomorrow word is going to spread that you’re back and there are going to be news crews up and down the streets. It’s better to just ignore them all together if you want any peace. When most of them leave, pick one station to share your story with.”

Sokka blinks. “Uh...sure.” He rubs the back of his head. 

Ozai gives him a firm pat on the shoulder. “Zuko, Jet, help me unload.”

“I think that I’m just going to head home.” Jet grumbles. Sokka notices the cross stare he gives Azula as he hoists his luggage over his shoulder and stomps up the beach. 

“There’s a mood killer.” Zuko snatches the first suitcase. 

Azula shakes her head. “Not this time. I’ll worry about him later. Let’s just get everything unloaded so we can drive to La-bsters.”

Sokka takes as many suitcases and bags as he can carry, he is more than itching to see his parents again. “I miss them.” He says. 

“Well of course.” Azula replies as she sets her final suitcase down. “I know that they’ve missed you.” 

He takes a moment to breathe and it smells the same. The lighthouse smells exactly as it always has, like spices and smoke. Albeit the scents are duller with the family having been away for some time. But it is still there, the smell is still there. 

“You guys moved the sofa.”

“Yeah, we needed something to block the door with.”  Zuko shrugs. 

At his puzzled look, Azula clarifies, “there was a bad storm and the door wouldn’t stop swinging open. Zuzu and I were pretty sure that we put everything back where it had been…”

Sokka shakes his head. “Nope, that sofa was over there more.” He points. “And you call yourself a perfectionist.”

Azula rolls her eyes. “I call you an ass.”

“Thank you for taking care of the lighthouse while we were gone.” Sokka hears from the other room. “Your ship is docked on the beach.” 

“Aye. Any time, lad.” Khozen emerges from the kitchen. As he leaves, he tips his hat to Sokka. “Good to see a fine sailor home at last. You’re gonna get some repute with the lads.” 

“Uh...thanks.” Sokka smiles. 

.oOo.

“Can we stop for some ice cream?” Sokka asks. 

“Sokka, we need to go home.” Katara says as Azula replies, “I wouldn’t mind making an extra stop.”

“We need to go see mom and dad! And we don’t know if you’re supposed to be eating ice cream so soon.”

“Oh come on, Katra, one cone won’t hurt. I can even split it with Azula.”

“And we’re going to have to watch?” Zuko crinkles his nose. 

“It will be like last summer when we all got a cone and walked along the boardwalk.” Azula tries. “We didn’t get to go for our end of summer ice cream run so why not go for a welcome home treat?”

Sokka slings his arm around her. “I vote yes. It’ll be fun. Plus, Hama probably misses my face.” 

“It will also be a good time to show Sokka the new boardwalk.”

“New boardwalk?” He inquires with mild dismay.

“It’s only partly new.” Azula clarifies. “The storm I told you about earlier did some damage. The town had to have it repaired and I think that they might be extending the boardwalk a little.”

“It was fine the way it was!”

“Things change Sokka. They have to.” 

.oOo.

But it doesn’t mean that he has to like it. Somehow, he always just assumed that they wouldn’t. That their little town was so small and removed from the rest of the world, that it wouldn’t have to. That it could just lounge on the shore like a languid tourist, suspended in time.

Again he finds himself looking Azula over. He wonders if he still knows her. He wonders even as she orders the same flavor of ice cream that she always does; strawberry with strawberry syrup and a helping of nuts. 

“Are you going to split this with me or are you going to get your own?”

“Double fudge with chocolate chips and sprinkles?” Hama chuckles. 

“You remember?”

“Of course I remember. I’ve been serving you double fudge since you were a tot.” The old woman croaks. 

“Thanks Hama, but I was going to share with Azula this time.”

“He’s not supposed to be eating ice cream right now.” Katara rolls her eyes and takes a plain chocolate cone. 

“Ah. Well I hope that you recover quickly.” She turns to Zuko, “and vanilla chocolate swirl with a hidden cherry.”

Zuko nods. 

It feels almost like old times. Zuko and Katara walk with their hands linked, licking at their cones, trying to catch drips before they fall. It is a bid harder to walk hand in while trying to share a cone. Eventually Azula mutters, “how’s this, I’ll take a bite and then I’ll hold it out for you?”

It seemed like a solid plan to him. She always has a plan even for the most mundane things. He wishes that she would have gone sailing with him, maybe if he had her he wouldn’t have gotten himself stranded. He takes his lick.

“Really, Sokka? Save some of the toppings for me.” 

He steals an extra lick and more of the nuts. For his folly Azula doesn’t return the cone to him until she has the toppings all to herself. How can she be so the same, but so different? 

“Here it is!” Katara gestures to the boardwalk. 

“Where’s Mai’s jewelry shop?” 

“It was obliterated during the storm.” Azula shrugs. “They built a new one.” She points towards a more opulent looking rendition. A sparkling sea pearl amid older buildings. Quite literally, he realizes. The roof pebbled with shiny pearls, strands of them hang from the rafters. 

“What’s that?”

Zuko shrugs. “New restaurant, maybe? Could also be a souvenir shop.”

“It’s supposed to be an arcade!” Toph’s skateboard rolls to a stop and she kicks it up. “Sokka!” 

“You’re home!” Aang throws his arms around him. Toph reaches an arm out to hold him steady as his rollerskates nearly send both he and Sokka crashing to the ground. 

“Hey, maybe when it opens, we can make it our new after school hangout!” Toph suggests. 

“But what about dinner at the Cod Shack!?”

“We can go there after we play arcade games.” Aang suggests. 

“But it was always, school clubs and sports, then beach games or jetskiing with Mai and TyLee, and then cod shack!”

“Sokka, Toph and Aang are in high school now. I’m going to be starting my senior year. Zuzu is going to be going to college. You’re going to be going to college, even if you have to put it off until next year...”

“So?!”

“So, we’re all…” Azula pauses. “Moving forward. What’s wrong with swapping a few beach games for arcade games?”

He throws up his hands. “Tradition!”

“We’ve been doing the exact same stuff since we were kids.” Azula sighs.

“Exactly! Now you’re getting it!” He exclaims.

“But you aren’t, Sokka.” 

His stomach pluments. 

Zuko gives a soft smile, “what she means is that, it’s time to mix it up a little. A lot of stuff happened while you were gone...” 

He cups his hands over his ears, he doesn’t want to hear it. While he was floating stagnated on his raft they were all growing up, living life. And he had missed what might have been the last summer as he’d known it. And he isn’t ready. 

He isn’t ready to let go of that. 

He wanted to go sailing, on an adventure. But he’d embarked with a knowingness that he’d return to the same old comforting normalcy. 

“I think I’m gonna head home.” He doesn’t wait for a reply.

“Sokka!” Katara calls after him.

#Azula #Sokka #Sokkla #Avatar The Last Airbender #Zuko #Katara #Zutara #Fanfiction

[valkyriesryde]

Hella Feelings {8/?}

Chapter 8: Bruises ~ Chairlift

Pairings: Bucky x OC; Sam x OC

A/N: Chapter six with @stuckonjbbarnes​ bless up my lads

Warnings: language, awkward encounters, a little bit of flirting, secondhand embarrassment probably

Word Count: 2555

Previous Chapter ~ Masterlist

~~~~~~~

Holly walks into the apartment with her tail between her legs and her feet dragging on the ground. In the kitchen Vanessa’s movements are slow and she’s definitely feeling hungover and like an idiot.

"Where have you been? I thought you were in bed..” Vanessa asks, looking up from where she’s cleaning the stove, ”I made breakfast for you...it’s in the microwave."

Holly throws up her hands and chucks her shoes on the floor, "I SLEPT WITH SAM! FUCK MY LIFE! RUINED EVERYTHING, LIFE SUCKS!” She yells turning the microwave on and sitting on the floor of the kitchen.

“BITCH SAME BECAUSE I TRIED TO GIVE BUCKY MY PAJAMAS AND HE DOESN’T EVEN LIKE ME!” Holly accepts the comment even though she’s slightly confused because it’s literally what their lives have become after these boys walked into their lives. She gets her food from the microwave because at least she’s got that going for her and gets back onto the floor.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Vanessa asks staring at Holly shoveling scrambled eggs into her mouth.

“Living my worst life, what about you?”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Bucky walks into the apartment to find Sam watching tv with his hood up and they kind of look at each other expectantly.

“Last night was great!" Bucky says in the same breath that Sam groans, "Last night was a shitshow."

“I dunno man...she’s funny and she wanted me to kiss her.” Bucky shrugs, plopping onto the couch.

“YOU MORON. TELL ME YOU KISSED HER.”

“I couldn’t take advantage of her like that...I want her to actually want it.”

“YOU REALLY ARE A DUMBASS.”

“Well...did you kiss Holly?” Bucky asks, trying to change the subject...because maybe she did want it last night?

”Like I said man...I made that ass mine.” Sam kind of pauses and then adds,"...and then she snuck out this morning."

"DUDE NO!" Bucky tries not to laugh.

“Yeah…”

“ISN’T THAT YOUR MOVE?” He finally settles on a smirk and Sam stands up from his seat ready to go back to bed and sleep for the rest of the day.

“I may be hungover but I’ll kick your ass.”

"I really thought you two would get together first, anyway, want to help me plan how I'm going to ask Vanessa out?"

Sam sighs and sits back down. “Fine.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“Holly are you ready to go yet?” Vanessa is pacing by the door, trying to justify running to the elevator.

“Yes, now if we leave now... we have a ten minute leeway to avoid the guys okay? Okay.” Holly checks her watch before pulling her bag onto her shoulders and siking herself up. “Just stick to the plan. We get in and we get out and if we have to sprint??”

“WE SPRINT.” Vanessa yells back, darting out the door and to the elevator.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“Bucky I swear to god we have to leave now! I’m not facing Holly today!” Bucky stumbles out of his room pulling on his shirt because Sam woke him up way too early with his dramatic ass.

“You should just talk to her.” He says looking blindly around the room for his bag and wallet.

“Say one more word on the matter and I’ll tip your coffee down the sink.” Sam threatens from the kitchen.

“You monster.” Bucky whines but doesn’t say anything else, snatching the cup.

The pair head to the elevator and wait. The doors open and Bucky chokes on his coffee a bit because Vanessa and Holly are standing in the elevator and holy shit this is incredible. Bucky is having a field day. He can tell that Sam has half a thought to run down the stairs and Holly is staring very intently at the buttons.

“So how was everyone’s weekend?” Bucky asks happily, once he’s sure that Sam isn’t going to bolt and the doors shut.

“Interesting.” Holly mumbles and Vanessa stares at Holly like she’s crazy but also wait, her and Bucky? Bucky is smiling at her? DOES BUCKY LIKE HOLLY?

Sam is finally like, “What about you Vanessa?”

“It was okay, I guess.” She breaks out of her thoughts and looks at Sam, straightfaced...fuck everyone, I wanna go back to bed.

Bucky’s eyebrows furrow, he had a good weekend, he thought she had a good weekend too. Damn alcohol, I can't trust it anymore. So he puts asking her out to the back of his mind for the time being.

Once they clear the elevator, Vanessa reaches to grab Holly’s hand, to make their escape, but accidentally grabs Bucky’s hand instead. She pauses for a second wide eyed, looking down and drops it like a hot potato. Then finds Holly’s arm and drags her out of the building. Meanwhile Holly and Sam are staring at everything BUT each other because oh god what is the other person thinking???

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Sam has officially given up today, he’s so tired, he’s sad, he just wants to go home and play video games. He walks in the foyer of the building and catches a glimpse of a familiar body closing the stairway door. He’d know that ass anywhere.

“Holly!” He runs up the stairs and stops abruptly when she stops at the first floor.

“Sam.” She just wants to run away, she just wanted to go to bed and play video games for the rest of the day, why him? Why now?

“Are we going to talk about this weekend?” Sam walks up the last couple steps slowly until he reaches the landing. “Because I thought I made it pretty clear that I like you.”

Holly shrugs, "We were drunk. Drunk feelings aren't real feelings..."

"What kind of backward bullshit is that????" He’s a little peeved because that’s a bullshit excuse what does that even mean?

"Oh so you actually want to date me?"

"Yes I want to date you!"

"Then date me!"

"Done!"

“FINE” both storm off, Sam back down the stairs because he’s going to use the stupid elevator and Holly up the stairs.

Holly gets up to the apartment and walks in, seeing Vanessa reading about the Hillside Strangler.

"I think I'm dating Sam? Not sure though, more to come,'' she's so nonchalant about it but Vanessa tosses the book down, not in the mood for killers, not in the mood for really anything, except this, this is new and exciting.

“OH It’s about time! Look at you two...getting all serious.” She wiggles her eyebrows and Holly shrugs before going to her room. She’s happy for Holly but also in the back of her head, she’s like oh no, BUCKY IS GONNA BE CRUSHED. But also mwhahahaha Bucky is gonna be crushed, I should tell him because if she can’t be happy then he can’t be happy either.

So Vanessa grabs her phone, not bothering to read any of the messages Bucky had tried to send her and taps out a message.

Then she scrolls to a text from Steve who asks if she wants to hang out. Fuck it, Steve’s fun… we’re gonna go to Central Park and people watch. She sends a quick text and they meet up on 5th Avenue to pick up coffee before they go.

Bucky walks in on Sam mumbling about "gonna take her on the best fucking date she's ever been on" while he’s scrolling through his phone. He looks at his phone and sees a text from the only person that matters, Nessa: Holly and Sam are dating 🎉

“OH SO YOU’re dating now?!” Bucky yells at Sam.

He can’t even figure out why the girl he likes was ghosting him...and then she texts him just to tell him that? He decides enough is enough. It's been a week of hot and cold with her...well mostly luke-warm. Bucky goes to the girls’ apartment and knocks, almost punching Holly when she swings the door open unexpectedly.

“GOD BUCKET! You almost hit me!” She glares and he gives her an apologetic look.

“Is Nessa around?” He asks.

“Wouldn’t you like to know...weather boy.” Holly smiles sweetly. “She’s out...if you must know.”

“Do you know where?”

“I’m not telling. GIRL. CODE.” She laughs, shutting the door in his face...okay guess I gotta go find MY GIRL.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“Movies? You’re taking me to the movies?” Holly stares at Sam who is currently holding the passenger door of his car open for her with an unsatisfied look.

“And dinner.” He nods proudly.

“Our first date is fucking dinner and a movie? Sam what the hell!” Sam reaches out and grabs her hand, pulling her closer to him and gives her a smirk that makes her think that maybe she’s missing something.

“Believe you me baby, you’re going to want to see this movie.”

They’re sitting at an ice cream parlor after the movie, both with their own cups, Holly refuses to use a cone currently. Sam laughs and nods along with Holly who hasn’t shut up since walking out.

“Does he know?”

“Not yet” he snickers, finishing his ice cream.

“You’re friends with the wrong one! There’s a Steve look-alike out there who is FAMOUS and you’re stuck with him!”

Sam chuckles and nods his head, he is definitely going to be telling Steve about his doppelganger in the new blockbuster Knives Out.

It’s a couple hours later and neither Sam nor Holly can find it in themselves to end the night. They’re sitting on the stairs of their building watching the cars go past with Sam’s hand on her thigh when he breaks the comfortable silence between them.

“What’s going on with Nessie? Bucky said they had a good night at Steve’s but now she’s not talking to him.” Holly shrugs, it’s not her place to say she thinks but she also just wants her friend to be happy.

"She a dumb clown.” She deadpans, “Bucky needs to make a move because she won’t."

Sam scoffs and pulls Holly closer to him, he kind of wants to kiss her but it’s probably not the best time.

“Like that’ll happen.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Vanessa is headed back down 5th Avenue, casually looking in the storefronts, when she walks straight into a man. He steadies her, holding her arms lightly and apologizing and she looks up, catching the apology a little too late. Because she’s floating in this guy’s eyes.

“I’m so sorry –Vanessa?” They say at the same time and both smile a little, remembering a very similar version of this by the mailboxes.

“D-do you wanna go for a walk?” Bucky asks and Vanessa wishes she could just *poof* out of there.

Her head and her heart are in full battle mode and she finally just shrugs and turns the way she came, walking back towards the park with Bucky. They’re both quiet and just sort of walking down the paths, until he finally asks “How’ve you been? It’s been a minute.”

“I’m fine. You?” She throws back, stuffing her hands into her back pockets.

“Are you okay? Truly?” Bucky is concerned because where’s the friendly weirdo he knew a week ago?

“I’m fine, James.” She says with a little venom, adding “What about you? Are you okay?! Now that your best friend is dating Holly? Or maybe you're fine and seeing someone else already.”

“Uhh, last I checked I wasn’t seeing anyone and of course I’m okay?” then it hits him. “Wait, you think I like Holly? Holly? Your best friend Holly? Why would I go after Sam’s girl? She’s not even my type! She’s–”

“HEY I LIKE YOU...OKAY?!” Vanessa stops in her tracks, eyes burning because he won’t shut up about Holly.

“What?” Bucky stops short, wondering if he heard her correctly. Nessa stomps up to him, less than a foot away and jabs his chest with each word.

“I. Like. YOU.”

Bucky can’t believe his ears and he watches the way she crosses her arms, pouting. He can’t resist grumpy Vanessa and he reaches out and holds her arms and is like “Calm down, killer. I like you too.”

“But you didn’t KISS me the night of Steve’s party.” Vanessa stares at him, squinting her eyes and he can’t help but roll his eyes both at her absurdity and his dumbass choices.

“You were drunk...I would never have forgiven myself for taking advantage.”  Nessa moves about half a step closer, causing Bucky to move his hands around her waist and she half yells “THAT’S NOT AN EXCUSE BARNES.”

“DO YOU WANT ME TO KISS YOU NOW?!” He yells back, matching her tone and before she can answer, he pulls her flush against his body. Their lips crash together and holy shit Vanessa nearly swoons cause his lips are so much softer than she expected. But she breaks the kiss before they can get carried away because this is a very public park. Bucky kind of pouts and she gives him a quick peck, smiling.

“Hold my hand, Barndoor.” She thrusts her hand at him and he just laughs, grasping her hand and pulling her into him.

“Barndoor?”

“I know...I’m getting rusty.” Nessa groans as they head back downtown.

“Look at us…” Bucky doesn’t respond as he’s sure he’s dreaming right now.

“HEY! Look at US!” Vanessa repeats and he finally looks down at her, eyes sparkling.

“Who woulda thought?” he asks, wanting to kiss her again because shit she’s just so perfect.

“NOT ME”  Vanessa yells, catching the eye of some tourists.

They head down the familiar streets towards the apartment and Bucky is like “So are we good? What is this... are we dating?”

“You’re stuck now James Dean. You have a whole ass girlfriend.” As they get towards the building, they see Sam and Holly and Nessa pulls her hand out of his.

“We can’t tell them...not yet.”

“They’re never gonna get over this.” Bucky warns but Vanessa gives him a megawatt smile and he can’t say no to that face.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Holly leaps out of Sam’s grasp and off the step as soon as she sees Vanessa and Bucky walking towards them and runs up to with a wicked grin. Sam feels a chill as soon as she leaves him but he smiles watching her so excited as she approaches their friends.

“You’re NEVER going to believe who we saw on the big screen!”

“What are you talking about?” Nessa laughs sitting below Holly.

“Actors?” Bucky chimes in, sitting a step below Sam but angling himself towards the trio.

“My new favourite actor Buck and he’s about to be yours too.”

Sam pulls out his phone and opens a photo before turning the screen to Bucky who looks at it confused, “that’s a picture of Steve.”

“BUT IT’S NOT!” Holly yells and Sam laughs.

“Wait..let me see.” Vanessa swipes the phone, squinting at the screen. “No way! Steve looks like Chris... Evans?! He should be an impersonator...on looks alone.” She giggles handing the phone back.

“I think Steve makes enough buck owning his own successful business but...like...I’d pay to see them in the same room.”

“If you were friends with Chris Evans you could get him to pay.”

“Or just get Bucky’s black card to do it.” Sam suggests and Bucky punches his shin.

“Bucky has a black card?!” Holly cries, completely shook.

~~~~~~~

Taglist (open): @cant-decide-at-this-moment @rinthehufflepuff @buckysmischief @sebbbystaaan @supraveng @hopingforbarnes @dumbubblegum @murdermornings​

#hella feelings #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #sam wilson x oc #bucky barnes x oc #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst #sam wilson fluff #sam wilson angst #marvel #college au #marvel au

[stonerexic-chronicles]

8 • 1 • 20

these past two days i’ve been kicking goals like fucking beckham.

compare that to my last post, that’s how quick these mood swings be.

yeah look it could be from the help of my good friend mary jane, but very occasionally.

i’ve be allowed to come off the supervised eating disorder table! i get to sit with whoever i like and then still go to aftermeal and it’s been amazing!! tell me i can’t do something, and i will prove everyone how wrong they are 🤟🏼

i deferred resuming my studies till july next year so i can do all my outpatients day groups and appointments. never once has this bitch prioritised my recovery over work, study, life!

i went and bought clothes that are

a) my ACTUAL SIZE, not just getting 4 sizes up ‘to be sure’ and refusing to try anything on

b) reflect my identity and androgyny

went back into my old work, got my salary owed from november paid out AND got offered to recontract when ever i’m ready on whatever hours i want! see ya never 80+ hr work weeks

told the girl i’m seeing that i think i’m falling in love with her and she told me she loved me, i could’ve cried happy tears for the first time in my life

so much of my self worth is based off my productivity, i am a list writing machine. and when i can actually tick off my list (or 5 i have everyday) i’m fucking stoked with myself

bring on weigh day tomorrow, it’s bulking season lads and i’m motherfucking ready to weight restore, get off NG feeds and get my ass home to my real life 🤟🏼

#ed anarchy #mental health #positivity #ed recovery #anorexia recocery #anorexia #eating disorder #recovery win #recovery #personal

[shadedrose01]

Young God

Relationships: Harley Keener/Peter Parker

Tags: idek how to tag this one, uhh, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, kind of?, more like, Enemies to Lovers, Enemies with benefits?, Rivalry, Rivals with benefits?, Its hard to explain aodjsk, Harley Keener as Iron Lad, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker Needs a Break, Peter Parker Has a Bad Day, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, Nothing shown tho, Fluff and Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, parkner week 2020, Day 2, Arguing

Prompts: “And i said ‘no,’ you know, like a liar” / identity shenanigans / iron lad

Notes: Day 2, everybody! Hope you enjoy! 💞💞

Read on ao3 Here!

~~

He says "oo, baby girl, you know we're gonna be legends,

I'm the king and you're the queen, and we will stumble through heaven,"

Peter sucks in a quick breath just before he crashes onto the rooftop, sliding across the sandpaper like tiles and feeling as it rips up his suit, the backs of his arms and legs, his hands as he claws and slows himself down until he finally stops, just at the edge of the house.

He stays still for a second, pants as he hears the mechanical whirrs and clicks of the robotic arms coming closer and closer to him, before he feels his hair stand up, and jumps backwards off of one rooftop to the other, just as Doc Ock crashes through the house below him, leaving only destruction in his wake. Peter listens sharply, for a scream or a cry but hears nothing, and feels a wave of relief knowing the family must not of been home, before its quickly wiped away as he instinctive jumps out of the way again, a claw crunching the stone he was stood on just moments before.

"Come on, Spider-Man," the man taunts, his bluish purple goggles gleaming in the setting sunlight. "Stop running away, and fight!"

Another claw, and another jump, except this time, Peter bounces off of the next rooftop he lands on, circling around and kicking the man right in the jawbone. "You asked for it!" He spits out as the kick throws him back, off kilter for a second, a moment that Peter tries to take to get out of distance again, out of range, but he's too slow, a third claw reaching for him, about to grab him-

Before its blasted to pieces by a bright purple light, and Peter cant help but to stifle the annoyed sigh that threatens to escape, the simmering anger that's been inside him all day starting to boil, to bubble up as he hears the familiar, way way too familiar Southern drawl call out, in all its mocking glory, "Hey squid boy, watch where you're throwing those things, someone could get hurt!"

Peter lands onto the brick wall, sticking into place and turns just to see Doc let out an irritated yell, and lunge for the bright red and gray suit, purple lights attached like lazor pointers to a cat, an easy target that never seems to faze the man no matter how many times Peter told him to tone them down. For once, Peter understands Docs anger, annoyance, as the suit weaves through his claws and shoots them apart with ease, laughing and mocking him the entire time. It makes his insides twist, and his blood boil, his heart racing and his teeth gritting together.

Peter throws himself off the wall just in time to kick Doc to the ground, all of his claws and weapons destroyed, and an affronted, almost insulted noise comes from the robotic suit flying beside him. "You can't just come in and steal the kill, that's not cool, dude!"

Peter doesn't even spare him a glance, webbing the villians hand, feet and then body to the ground. "What, like you did?"

"I did not," The robotizied voice cries out, like a child. "I was just helping you out, Spidey! You should be thanking me!"

Now, Peter can hear the smug grin on the man's face, and this time he can't help the bitter sigh that escapes, as he turns to send a heated glare. "Fuck off, Iron Lad."

He can practically see his eyebrows raise, even through the emotionless mask and the man laughs, loudly, his voice higher pitched with pure amusement as he says, "Oh ho ho, Man! What's got you in a piss poor mood, huh? Having a bad Spidey day, Spider-Man?"

Peter's nostrils flare, and he has to physically hold back the words that long to spill from his mouth, tasting bitter on his tongue, flames licking at his lungs. "Police?" He asks instead, glancing away to glare at the stones below him, his hands clenched hard into fists.

"On the way, eta maaybe two minutes?"

"Then let's go." Peter doesn't wait for an answer, shooting a web off into the distance and yanking himself away, huffing out a breath when he hears the very clear, "Sir, yes sir!" And the echo of replusors sound from behind him, following him like they always do.

"If there's a light at the end, it's just the sun in your eyes,

I know you wanna go to heaven but you're human tonight,"

Peter swings for a while, trying to ignore, pretend that the metallic sounds of blasters aren't following him, hoping that eventually, the man, that Harley would get the hint and leave him the fuck alone today, but after a while, he realizes that won't happen and lands on the top of a building, crashing to the ground a little rougher than necessary, feeling his bubbling anger, annoyance rising higher and higher in his chest.

"Finally," The suit groans out, landing right beside Peter on the rooftop before flailing his arms out dramatically. "I thought you were never gonna stop, jeez."

"I'm on patrol." Peter growls out, going to the edge of the rooftop to look down and focus his hearing, to make sure he doesn't miss any moments, any crime that he needs to stop, almost wishing, itching that there was some so he could get away from the man encased in metal. He doesn't know why his presence is bugging him so much today- he's normally annoying, sure but not this much, never this bad- but it is and Peter just longs to get away (even as a part of him begs to get closer).

The man just huffs, his neon purple eyes seeming stare into Peter's soul incredulously. "Thats never stopped you before." When Peter just ignores him, the man takes a step forward and his helmet retracts, the face of the one and only Harley Stark- son to Tony Stark, heir to Stark industeies and the main pain in Peters ass for the last eight months- scrunched up with a weird mix of childish annoyance and worry that makes him look constipated. "Seriously, Spidey. What's going on? Are you okay?"

The real concern that slips into the mans tone makes Peter's insides twist, but he ignores it as he spits out, "Why do you care? Thought you only cared about yourself?"

Its intentionally rude, and he knows it hits its mark when a pang of hurt runs across Harley's features before it disappears back into a blank slate so similar to the one his father wears for the same reason, to hide the pain. "You know that's not true." Even his voice has gone back to painfully neutral, and any satisfaction Peter anticipated to feel is overwhelmed by a sickening guilt that poisons him from the inside out, twists his stomach and makes him feel nauseous.

He should apologize, he knows, but he's still- he still feels the burning, the fire under his skin, in his bloodstream, charring his lungs, molten lava in his veins, and he can't stop the sour words from slipping past his lips, with a faint mocking laugh. "Do I?"

"I thought you did." He mutters, his usually bright, summer day skies eyes darkening as a storm cloud passes by, rumbling with a thunder that makes Peter's heart thump heavily in his chest. "I know you do. I know you don't really like me, I get that, but you normally aren't this much of a dick about it. This isn't you."

Peter just laughs again, bitter and twisted and wrong sounding, even to himself. "You don't know me. You don't know anything about me."

He says, "oo baby girl, don't get caught on my edges,

I'm the king of everything, you know my tongue is a weapon,"

Harley's eyes just narrow more, his jaw clenching, and Peter can see his words are started to get to him, his fingers twitching and his shoulders raising. Good. "I think I know more about you than you think."

"Do you?" Peter snorts, shaking his head in exasperation as he glances over to the man, glaring, the fire burning brighter, flames licking at his throat. "Say, what do you know about me?"

"I know your kind," He starts, scowling, counting on his fingers as if Peter is a child that he's lecuring. "I know you're considerate. I know you put everyone else before yourself, because you think somehow, subconsciously that your life is worth less than others. I know you feel guilty for something that happened in the past, and try to better yourself because of it. I know you care, much more than you let on." Peter snorts, trying to ignore the emotions and raw feelings bubbling in his throat, and Harley just continues, ignoring it. "I may not know your name, or your face, or your- your identity but I know you, Spidey. And this," He makes a waving motion at Peter's body, "whatever this is, it isn't you. So Explain. What's going on?"

He's almost pleading, now, begging for Peter to tell him and the masked man almost longs to tell him, but honestly, he doesn't even know what's wrong. He's felt this burning, this itch for something since he woke up, and as the day went on, he grew more and more irritated, irate, a chemical reaction gone wrong, Harley acting as a catalyst and speeding up the reaction until now, its starting to explode, bubbling over the glass and creating a mess of emotions.

Peter can't tell him that, though, can't tell him that he's being a dick for nothing, so he just shrugs him off, looking away again and muttering a quick, "Nothing."

He can almost feel the tension in the air rise, turning thick as Harley bristles and flares, "Let me help you, for fucks sake!"

"Maybe I don't want you to help me!" Peter sparks back, whipping his head back around to glare at the man, the energy high, electric around them.

"There's a light in the crack, that separates your thighs,

And if you wanna go to heaven, you should fuck me tonight,"

"Oh, no. You do." Harley sneers, stepping forward, closer to Peter. "You do, you're just too much of a coward to admit it."

Peter rolls up his mask to his nose, and glares heavily at the man, taking a step towards him in retaliation. "Middle school insults, really?"

"Only telling the truth." Another step forward. "You're a coward who tries to hide his true feelings and pretend they don't even, even though you know they do."

"Oh yeah?" Another step, and suddenly, they're face to face, their noses millimeters apart, almost brushing in their proximity. "Say that again, I dare you."

Harley takes the bait, leaning in closer until Peter can feel his air on his lips, their breath mixing. "You're a coward, Spider-Man."

And Peter thinks he's going to punch him. His fists are clenched, his body is tense, he's bracing himself to do it. But instead, he finds himself grabbing his shoulders tightly and pushing their lips together, his mind whirling as the reaction bubbles over and the flame in his chest ignites into a wildfire, bright and untamable as Harley kisses back just as heavily, just as intensely, pressing him back back back until his back is pushed against a brick wall. Their lips don't disconnect, their heads turning and tongue swirling as Harley's hands roam up and down Peter's suit, over his arms, chest and abs, Peter's moan being swallowed into Harley's mouth, only to be reciprocated moments later.

The kiss breaks only to allow Peter to jump into Harleys arms, his legs wrapped around and sticking to the waist of the metal suit and his arms around his neck before theyre reconnected again, sucking face and groaning into each others mouths.

"My place?" The blond asks, voice muddled by lips and tongue and teeth, and Peter only nods instead of answering, pressing his face into his neck to leave marks, bites and bruises as the other man wraps his arms around his waist and under his ass, before the repulsors start back up and they fly away, towards the giant looming tower in the distance.

And I've been sitting at the bottom of a swimming pool, for a while now,

Drowning my thoughts out with the sounds,

Peter blinks awake slowly, hearing the faint whisper of a fan and a steady mechanical hum and feeling the satin, silk sheets beneath his fingertips. He turns his head slowly, his brain still groggy as he sees the other man, Harley beside him, his ryestalk hair askew and his face lax, more youthful than Peter's ever seen it, the sheet only covering to halfway up his chest, the rest out in the open, bare outside of the bright red marks still covering his skin. He flushes slightly as the memory's return from the night before, or, evening? He looks to the large, floor to ceiling windows beside the bed to see that it's still nighttime, the bright moonlight shining in through the clear glass, the pale blinds and illumating the room, casting shadows onto Harley's features and making him look... softer, ethereal, such a contrast to his sharp words and his even sharper personality. He finds he likes it, the softer, gentler look, and finds himself staring for a few moments, taking the moment in before he sits up slowly, making sure not to awaken the other man, and stands.

He finds a pair of pants on the floor, and a shirt he isn't sure is clean or dirty, throwing them both on before noticing a glass door, leading out into a balcony on the other side of the room. He had remembered landing somewhere early, hazily, though he obviously wasnt focused on it. It must've been there. He finds himself drawn to it, tiptoeing quietly over to the door and sliding it open before stepping outside, and taking a large inhale of the chilled air. He moves to the railing of the balcony, listening to the faint breeze of the late August winds, the car horns and honks in the distance, stares down at the still busseling, still alive city below them, not really focusing on anything, not really thinking, just breathing, feeling, living.

That must be why he doesn't hear the other man stirring, or hear him approch until the door behind him clicks open again. Peter doesn't turn around, doesn't have to, just continuing to watch the cars drive by until two arms wrap around his waist, gently, warily, until a, now clothed, chest is pressed against his back, and a chin rests on his shoulder. Peter just exhales, leaning back into the other mans grip, feeling more relaxed, more at ease than he has in a while, longer than he can remember.

Do you feel like a young god?

You know the two of us are just young gods,

"Do you ever..." Peter doesn't know when, or why, he starts to speak, doesn't think of what he says as he murmurs, hushed, low, a whisper, "feel like a young god? With these powers, the suits, the- the responsibility..." Harley just hums, faintly, and they start to sway, subtle, gentle back and forth motions, back and forth, like waves cascading onto a beach. "They all look up to me. The people, the city. They all-" Peter shakes his head, sighing lightly, airy. "And sometimes I just... sometimes I just don't know if I'm enough, you know? Sometimes I just..."

"Need a break." The other man finishes, murmurs, his lips brushing against Peter's cheek and sends tingles down his back.

"I-I guess so, yeah." There's a few moments, a few seconds where they just sit in the comfortable silence, where Peter glances up at the smog filled sky, seeing a few stars shining through, the almost full moon gleaming brightly down at them.

Before, "Let me help, baby." Harley whispers, pleads, and Peter goes to protest but the blond beats him to it. "You're burnt out, constantly saving the city, saving the world, constantly being the punching bag for everyone else, let me help. Please, Peter," And that was something new, too, Harley knowing his name, knowing his face, knowing him through and through, though he knows the other man won't tell, won't share, turning his head with easy fingers to look him in the eye, his ocean blues almost neon in the glow of the moon. "Let me help you."

They stare at each other, flickering from eye to eye for a few beats, a few thumps in Peter's chest, and he doesn't answer, not really, just lowers his head and places it onto Harley's chest, into the crook of his neck, but his lack of an answer is answer enough. The older man just presses a drawn out kiss onto the top of his head, and holds him closer, a non spoken thank you that sends Peter reeling, unused to the feeling of care, of concern, of love.

And yet, surrounded by strong arms and held closely to a firm chest, Peter feels at his strongest, feels comforted, known, feels safe. He closes his eyes, and just breathes, let's himself have this moment of calm and quiet in the arms of his love.

And we'll be flying through the streets, with the people underneath,

And they're running, running, running...

#parkner week 2020 #parkner #harley keener/peter parker #harley keener #peter parker #fanfic #marvel fanfiction #marvel #mcu #marvel mcu

[whimsically-ominously-auspice]

There was this little boy. He was so so so bad.

Oh he was bad in the boys bunker.

Saint Luches complained to me he wanted to ring his little neck but he was too cute. But he was just smashing shit up all the time, making a mess and being disrespectful.

I went down i saw what he did and i said "oh he ain't too bad, put him in the girl's bunker"

"Are you kidding me? They'll all be dead by morning! Lets take him home with me. Ill whip him into shape"

"Oh i get to be a girl" oh he was a smart ass!! Oh he was gonna need a good fixing before he got too old.

"Oh I see why you wanna take him home. Hes kinda funny. It's been bored around the house kind of late"

"I know. Sex and food. Sex and food. I need something more substantial"

"Oh it's been great. I've loved it i must admit. But i love you and I might just love you, too, huh little girl?"

"Sex and food" he was tossing his head and mocking while i talked. I thought maybe he wasn't listening then he jumped and turned to face us "IM A BOY!" scared me He looked like he could kill me

"Oh i didn't know. Lets go. Keep on walking. Were almost there. Not too long now"

"Ima girl. Ima swish my hair" he tossed his shoulders and smoothed his hair down. But he twisted up his face all angry and did it. Which made it hilarious.

I tried to stifle a giggle.

He jumped in front of us again. We were both smiling this time, not worried about the future or the child between us.

"Alright let's go" he got between us and grabbed our arms and pulled us along fast. Boy walked fast for as tiny as he was.

Saint Luches looked at me wide eyes like OMG "these mood swings on this one What a wild one!!"

"Come on let's go" he chomped out at his throat

"Ohhhhh he's a cartoon"

"GI JOE, yep i hear it. Unfortunately he's the bad guy"

I Bent over at my waist "is that GI JOE, little one?"

"Come on let's go" he used the same gruff voice "what's this thing called?"

"An elevator"

"How did you know what he was asking about, babe?"

"He was looking up at the numbers"

"14th floor" said our little unknown soldier.

"Oh he's good. He knows what an elevator is used for. I wonder what his name is"

"My name's not Joe but you can call me Joe" he barged into our apartment with us.

"Oh this is gonna be fun!!" I wheeed myself in "you can put your coat here by the door"

"He leaves it on" saint Luches turned to tell me "wait wha???" He stopped and looked in wonder and amazement as the kid took off his coat

"Here you can put it on the hook up there. Im too short." Said the gruff boy "I always put it on when you get there because you take us outside you dummy dipshit"

"Woaaaah!! I love this kid already!! Hes so smart and kind! Totally gracious, too"

Saint Luches rubbed his face in agony like what the Hell did I do to my perfect life?!?!

"Dont worry, you're beautiful" I touched his arm as I passed from the foyer into the living room where he awaited for us, me and little dude.

"Are you two gonna have sex? My mom use to and ow my arm!"

I got on my knees next to him "Oh no. Here let me see it." I rubbed his long skinny arm "where does it hurt?"

"It doesn't i just wanted to see what you would do" still the gruff voice

"This isn't the first kid you brought home but this is the first lying one" I went to see saint Luches in the doorway.

"He barely did!!" Saint Luches complained "don't jump on the couch!! He's already called me a dipshit, too. And I'm gonna get him!!"

"Don't..." I put my hand on my forehead and turned, my hand sliding down my face as I did.

"Hey now I gotcha!!" He grabbed that kid off the couch and boy he started beating him about the head and shoulders. I can tell when Saint Luches is trying to be patient. And when he's really holding a temper. And when he's confused.

"Hey now, let's see. Come here" that little kid made sound effects as he latched onto my arm with his teeth. "He hasn't mentioned a dad. Just a mom. But apparently he doesn't like her either" i let little Joe tear At my arm and shake it in his mouth like a dinosaur. Pulling back hurts the kid with that tight a teeth grip and growing teeth shouldn't be damaged and in addition ripping my arm back increases the risk of ripping apart my arm in huge ways. Otherwise its bite marks and chew marks which heal much faster.

'What the hell!?!?!?!?" Saint Luches put the kid down "see? I told you! All dead by morning!!"

"He just needs some toys. Lets see what we have in the toy box by the window here"

"My mom's on drugs. I get toys"

"He can have them. Just leave you alone! God. What the Hell did i do here?!"

"The other boys will be here soon. You can ask them"

"My mom is on drugs. Yeah yeah yeah."

"Boys?"

"Just the Alan. I forgot the others.. Should be or are dead"

"My mom's on drugs. Yeah yeah yeah"

"What the Hell is he saying to you?"

"I know i heard you sweetie! My dad is a drug addict, too!"

"My mom, she says she's not an addict. Just on drugs, there's a difference. And we're not black. Just not white"

"That's okay. You can be any color you want to be"

"Nuh uh. I only stay one. I checked!!"

"Yeah don't you feel dumb?" Saint Luches asked.

"Why because idk how to change colors?" He crawled across the floor, "oh teach me wise one"

Saint Luches lost his funny bone with this one. I thought it was hilarious.

"Admit it! You want to laugh! Oh wise one bringing this lad to me!"

"He isn't wise! It was a joke!"

"At least the voice?! It makes it fun!"

"He's the evil guy on the cartoon show!"

"Well ask Alan. Because i don't think so, he's too smart. Plus he knew you were mad for him jumping on the couch"

"Oh jump on the couch" there he went.

"You deal with this one. You already been bit"

"Give me your hand. Now what do you want to do? Sit or get down? You could fall and get hurt"

"Fall? This is just like mine at home.. I thought"

"Its white!!" Saint Luches Makes so much sense to kids that are taught to jump on sofas then kidnapped.

"When this one is a little different sweetie. We prefer you didn't jump on it. So lets talk what's this guy's voice, the way you talk. Sound like, what does the cartoon character that most resembles your voice look like"

"Oh he's tall and nonchalant. He is for real. Let's watch see if it's on"

That little boy grew up into a man. He is on TV. He still pretends to be GI JOE, but in big kids style.

On SWAT. Criminal Minds.

He would be bad. And he would test patience and he used to be beat at home. He knew what a real ass whooping was.

I'd count if he didn't wanna get up and put away the toys. 1. 2.

"Can I watch tv still?"

"Pick up the toys it's still on"

3. 4.

"What number is it?"

"Oh i forgot. Now you be good so i don't have to count and I'll make some food/breakfast and we will eat on the floor in front of the white couch"

I made him pick up toys we left in the floor the night before. Then he Just took them right back out.

Saint Luches complained about them in the floor "hon, will you have him pick them up?"

"Sure babe" and he still complained.

I took him to work with me and we would watch cartoons till the last minute.

So Saint Luches got so mad. He said "im gonna go in late to work to see what you do to this kid. He's well behaved but there's toys all over the place"

He played with a doll. A block and 2 carton of cigarette boxes. That was it.

So he got us to time the cartoon and when 5 minutes was left he got the kid to put them under the TV

"Oh that was easy!! I thought you wanted him to do it as exercise. To practice! For when he went home or something and got old! Now you can quit bitching!"

Saint Luches was right, tho. He would killed those women. I had just finished telling him about a new lamp and how it was heavy. And he picked it up over his head. I didn't mention not to touch it. But i was in the floor when he decided to. Scared me to death.

Alan worked nights. So i started screaming for him cause i had just taken him breakfast in bed and he thought i was being dramatic

But really he just wanted to see how heavy the lamp really was.

I had been having bad dreams. We had just kicked Matt Hagan out for wanting to human traffic. And i kept dreaming he was going to go back for revenge. We had the new lamp and I had dreamed he attacked us with it. But kept plugging it in all over the house.

And I just saw his rage face when the kid had it.

It took saint Luches like 10 days to settle himself. Kids were not really his thing... Not kids he didn't understand.

Usually we sent most kids to the woman's side because all the girls fussed over the babies and young ones. So they were always mothered and taken care of.

I didn't have too much trouble with him. Usually he got his cars stuck in my hair if I forgot to pull it up. But he would drive them on my arms and shoulders.

I did take him to the doctor because he always gruffed the GI JOE voice. But the doctor said he didn't have damage and in time he would talk.

I had figured he felt either uncomfortable or comfortable and So he used a different voice than at home just because his life was different.

The doctor agreed it may be psychological. I Just wanted to ensure he didn't have a problem internally. So Saint Luches took him for the xrays the next day.

"He was fine. But he kept playing with those two empty cigarette cartons." Saint Luches told me

I told him they weren't cigarette boxes, they were cannons. Mac trucks, moving vehicles. They were every thing but empty cigarette cartons.

So Saint Luches bought him every thing under the sun. But still he wanted those empty cigarette cartons.

"Why?! Why?!? Why!?! Why do you do this to me?!?!" Saint Luches grabbed him by the shirt after crawling to him on his knees

"Because you tell me not to throw. I throw this you say good job. Paper airplane good job. Ball? Boy don't throw! I like all my toys to be throw. And lightweight" he said in a deep almost normal voice.

"See he's smart! And he listens to you!" I pleaded with him to find a happy medium.

So Saint Luches went into the toy box and pulled out all the toys the child could throw and put them seperate in a laundry hamper. "Throw. Throw. Throw. You can throw all these"

"But you told me this 'no throw' and this and this and this and this and this"

The child nearly emptied the hamper.

"Now what's he doing?"

"He is not negotiating with you. Hes telling you what you've told him before. I've seen him out the corner of my eye when we watch TV. Hes been testing you. Checking to see if you notice and what you say. I watch his face. Thats why we bought the lamp so I could see."

"So, what you're saying is I've told him no to throwing all these toys before?"

"Yup. No honey" i got down on the floor with them, unfortunately there was tears in the child's eyes 4 tears "HE is telling you. This is what you see he has said to you and i have repeated it. Okay babe?"

"So, now what do i do?"

"Reinforce"

I took each object and showed it to them both and said "throw?" Until the child nodded. And i put it in the basket. When it was full. I picked up all the items and threw them behind me. I didn't look. Just tossed them.

Then I asked Saint Luches to help me clean up.

Then they both sat in the floor with the basket between them. "Well! Don't just sit there! Throw"

And the kid tossed some balls. Into the floor a foot from him.

"No, Saint Luches. I want you to throw with him" i got a toy from the basket "baby look. Throw?"

"I just said that yeah!"

"Ok baby look let me see your hand" i put the ball in his hand and made his wrist move to throw the ball out onto the floor. "Come on you can do better than that!"

Took him 2 days to learn to play with the 6 year old (we guessed) child.

Eventually we got another basket and they practiced throwing across the room from basket to basket.

We had him for 2 and a half weeks before I took him to Michael Jackson and said "he needs to be in TV. He memorizes everything and he is so good at it. Even does voices and sound effects"

Michael looked at me quizzically "you never do this. Singing yeah but acting no."

"But he has a gift. A deep gift. Try him. Give him a script"

He did. He blew Michael's mind.

"Get me his parents! I gotta sign this kid up!"

"She's on drugs that's all i know"

"This..this kid is a drug baby?!? No way! No way! You're right! And he's black! Two boot! Yeah that's my man!"

"Where did you get him from?"

"He was driving Saint Luches crazy in the bunker so we took him home"

"You aren't supposed to just take kids home you know"

"The CIA knew"

"I was just giving you a hard time. I'm lucky you did! Were all gonna be rich off this gem!"

"He really is sweet too!"

Here i am in mom jeans with my little girl with the swishy hair.

[initiala]

CS prompt: First sex after childbirth

I missed Storybrooke Downs. A lot. Also this went kinky. And super Real. If you aren’t comfortable with what probably falls under ‘erotic lactation’, then keep on scrolling.

And it’s pronounced “EE-fah” ;)

March 3, 2020

They wind up naming her for his mother.

Aoife Elizabeth Jones, dark of hair and strong of lungs, has his nose and her mother’s chin. Her eyes haven’t quite made up their mind on what color they want to be just yet and she spends an abnormal amount of time simply observing the world around her.

She’s been in his life for only a few short months, and yet he can hardly remember a time without her in it.

Emma’s been slow to get back on her feet, poor lass; her pregnancy had been a difficult one and a whole slew of postpartum difficulties had kept her down for much of the last few months. He’s tried not to hover, truly, but it wasn’t easy (still isn’t, sometimes) to see her lethargic and unable or unwilling to get out of bed some days. The crying jags were the worst of it: the mood swings he was used to, but seeing her still and sad and prone made his heart stutter and a sense of hypervigilance to take over. When Killian had decided to all but pass the reins, as it were, of the farm to Will while throwing himself headfirst into fatherhood and caring for his wife, she’d been able to get the necessary treatments to be well once more. It had been difficult to promote Will, to take a step back in the day-to-day affairs of the farm. But his family had supported his decision, encouraged it, and if he was honest with himself it was worth it to see the look of shock on Will’s face. And with his extra support of her at home, Emma began to improve, slowly returning to her old self once more.

Now, Killian leans against the door with his arms lightly folded across his chest, watching as Emma bounces Aoife gently, rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet as she hums. He tries not to hover much these days, but it can be hard to shake the habit. And, if he’s honest, he’d rather not miss out on little moments like this. Emma’s not wearing a shirt, a sure sign that Aoife’s bedtime snack has just ended. Her hair is pulled up in a messy ponytail and away from little fingers just learning to grasp with intent. There’s a burping cloth over her shoulder and the nightlight that sends stars and moons-shaped light across the walls is already turned on. The floor creaks as he steps into the nursery and Emma speaks quietly, without turning to look. “She’s almost asleep.”

He comes up behind them, loosely wrapping his arms around Emma’s waist and pressing a gentle kiss against Aoife’s crown. She fusses a little, her tiny fist clenching and relaxing as her face scrunches up in discontent. Killian chuckles. “Apologies, little love, Papa didn’t meant to disturb you.”

“You get to be on sleep duty if she doesn’t settle down,” Emma tells him as he reaches up to take the cloth and toss it into the washing pile.

But settle she does, as her parents sway and her mother starts humming again. Killian’s chin tucks up against Emma’s shoulder and he presses kisses against her skin. This is his favorite time of the day – the quiet moments before Aoife’s bedtime when she makes little cooing sounds as she falls asleep; when Emma, tired after a long day, leans into him a little more and allows him to set the pace of their gentle sway, rocking their daughter to sleep; when his whole world fits right here in the circle of his embrace.

He sticks close by as Emma lays Aoife in her crib. She fusses a little, her face scrunching up once more as she’s left to lay alone in her crib, and Killian can’t help but sympathize: between sleeping alone or cuddling with Emma, he’d choose the latter every time. They watch her settle for a moment before walking quietly towards the door. The moment they’re out of the nursery, the door left open just a bit, Killian sweeps Emma up in his arms, grinning at her surprised squeak. “What the hell?”

“Am I not allowed to spoil my wife?”

She glowers at him, but wraps her arms around his neck and if he isn’t mistaken (and he rarely is when it comes to her) there’s a small smile threatening to spread on her lips. “You spoil me plenty, I just can’t figure out the occasion.”

What little ire remains in her tone and face is rendered exponentially less threatening by her half-bare state. He carries her down the hall to their bedroom, bypasses the bed, and straight into the bathroom where he’s run her a hot bath. Her doctors have all told him that anything that can be done to ease her burdens (imagined or not) will help exponentially, and he’s taken to doing such things whenever the thought occurs to him; he also figures that little reminders of his love and care for her never hurts. He’s added some of those fizzy, scented, confetti configurations she’s grown to like, and lit a few candles and placed them around the rim. She inhales sharply at the sight, her arms tightening around his neck. “Oh, Killian.”

He sets her down, his hands lingering on her hips. He kisses her forehead, then both cheeks, watching the way her eyes close and smiling at how she leans into his touch. “The occasion is that I love you, that I can’t remember a time I’ve been happier, and that it’s entirely due to you that I feel this way.”

She ducks her head and he catches her smile before she tries to hide it. “That’s the sleep deprivation talking.”

“Perhaps, but perhaps you should also take advantage of it while I’m feeling charitable,” Killian teases.

She demures. “Seriously, Killian, I know I’ve been a pain in the ass and none of this has been easy. If anything, I need to be doing all this nice stuff for you, not the other way around.”

There’s an itch under his skin that he wouldn’t be able to scratch even if he wanted to remove his hands from her. His heart aches for her, his stubborn Swan; if it hadn’t been for the Nolans nagging her as much as he did himself, he’s not sure she would have accepted help for her problems. “Emma, you’re not a pain in my arse or anyone else’s. Aye, it’s not been easy, but this is how our partnership works. Even without the vows,” his hand finds hers, fingers running over the rings on her fingers, the ones she’d had to wear on a chain around her neck for months, the ones he’d sworn for better or for worse over, “I’d not want to be anywhere else but here by your side.” Her eyes are shining at this point, a watery smile on her lips, and he kisses her forehead. “Take your bath, sweetling, I’ll keep an ear out for the little one.”

Her hands catch his before he can pull away. “Stay? Er – you can join me? If you want to?” she asks and the hopeful look in her eyes makes his breath catch in his throat.

It’s been almost a year since they’d last lain together. She’d been a tempting sight for months, lovely and glowing as their child grew within her, but the difficulties with her health had prevented them from being able to indulge in their desires for one another – and God only knew how irritated Emma had been about that. He’d seen her phone’s calendar with certain dates marked for when she might be cleared for sex again. But that had changed after Aoife arrived in a whirlwind of long labor and eventual emergency C-section, and then the host of other issues Emma had to combat in recovery. He’d done his best to keep from causing his wife any unnecessary guilt or pressure, and truly her health matters more to him than anything else.

As she’d said it hasn’t been easy. None of it has. And while part of him really, truly misses his wife in the biblical sense, the rest of him prioritizes gratefulness for Emma’s returning health and happiness, and the health of their daughter.

Emma smiles as she searches his eyes. “I wouldn’t suggest it unless I felt ready,” she says, as if she’s reading his mind.

Some days he’s not so sure she can’t.

“I know, love, it’s just – you’re certain? Truly?”

She nods and slides his hands up to her bare ribs, her smile turning decidedly more devious as his breath catches. “It’s been way too long since we’ve done something like this together.”

She giggles at how quickly he divests himself of his clothing, her own strip out of her leggings and underwear much slower than his hurried flinging of garments this way and that. He’s not sure if his speed coming from his own fear that she’ll change her mind or that he’ll lose his nerve. (Maybe both. Maybe something else he can’t name.) He almost stumbles when she kicks her clothing aside, as agog as he’d been as a lad at his first sight of a woman bared. Her breasts and hips are fuller these days, and a thin red line scars her lower abdomen, but little else has changed; it’s only enhanced her natural beauty and he finds her as beautiful as she was the day they met almost six years ago.

The water is pleasantly warm as he steps in, easing the minor aches of the day as he sits down and holds out his hand to assist her. She fits easily between his legs, her back resting against his chest, and they share a sigh of content as she lays her head back against him and his arms envelop her. He turns into her a bit, breathes her in and grazes his lips against the shell of her ear; in a way it’s almost an extension of earlier, being pressed against her like this, but decidedly… more. It’s not her skin against his, not the way water clings to her skin, the ends of her hair as they sink down a little farther. It’s just — he feels closer to her like this, lighter and less anxious (because he’s always anxious, deep down, feels it flare up at each hiccup or setback, every bad day even after a string of seven good ones), and there is something about water that simply makes him feel… safe.

(Like he could drift, and not drown, and keep his love afloat with him.)

And, well, the view from here isn’t too bad, either, a fact his wife seems to know all too well if the stifled snicker she lets out is any indication. “I’d say my eyes are up here, but.”

Killian hums into her hair, drags his lips down her jaw and tries (fails, miserably) to hide his smile against her skin. “Lovely as they are, Swan, I can’t say I’m all that displeased to finally have these,” he murmurs, hands reaching up under the water to cup the underside of her breasts, a soft, gentle thing that has her breath hitching, “and you all to myself for a little while.” He can tell she’s smiling even without seeing her, can practically feel it rising up out of her chest and blossoming bright onto her face as he drops his lips to her shoulder.

“All I ask is for you to be gentle,” she says with a sigh, turning her head slightly to nestle against him better. “Your daughter doesn’t seem to understand the word just yet.”

Her skin feels like silk under his fingers as they glide down her stomach, coasting over new curves and scars. “Ah, so she’s my daughter when she’s misbehaving, is that how it is?”

“Absolutely.”

He chuckles, his lips brushing against the soft skin of her temple, then her forehead. He skims down the length of her nose and captures her lips in a kiss. Emma sighs happily, opening for him immediately. Something about the glide of her tongue against his, coupled with the delightful way her arse wriggles against his cock, causes his restraint to snap. He groans, surging forward and causing the water to slosh noisily in the tub, turning her enough to better devour her mouth. She mewls into him, her hand slipping between them to grasp his cock. The feel of her nimble fingers on him after so many months without makes him shudder. He allows her a few pumps before taking her hand in his. “Need you,” she whispers against his lips.

“I know, pet, but if you don’t stop then it’ll be over all too soon,” he says.

She whines in protest, but soon they turn to whines of pleasure as he kisses her again. His tongue tangles with hers, his teeth scraping against her lower lips and sucking it into his mouth; he does so love the way her lips plump up, full and red, when he kisses her. He turns her back to their original position, keeping their left hands entwined as his right slides down her stomach to the thatch of hair between her legs.

God but she’s soft, softer than he remembers. There’s slickness between her folds that’s pure Emma and he slides two fingers into her pliant flesh with ease. She gasps into his mouth, her body arching as he begins a gentle thrust with his fingers. His thumb grazes the side of her clit in a pattern that alternates between rough and gentle, and judging by the way her hips cant against his hand, she likes it very much.

She turns her head, meeting his mouth with hers again. Her kisses are rough and demanding, more tooth than lip, and it awakens something darker, something greedier inside of him. He brings their hands to her breasts, kneading and massaging each in turn. Their fingers trace nonsense on her chest, on her stomach, trailing up and down and returning to tweak and tease her nipples at each pass. “More,” she demands, gasping the word between a kiss, and he’s more than willing to give it to her.

He slides in a third finger, stretching her, prepping her for later, and groans in unison with her as her walls squeeze him. “I can’t wait to feel you,” he tells her, surging forward to kiss her again. “Been so long – missed you –”

“‘M right here,” she says, her voice cracking as he puts more pressure on her clit. “God, Killian – close –” 

His eyes drop to her chest as her head falls back with a broken moan; there’s a flush creeping down her neck towards her lovely, full breasts. “Are you going to come for me?” he murmurs right behind her ear, kissing a sensitive spot along her hairline. “Look at you, all flushed and pink and wanton.”

Her breathless agreement has him quickening his pace, his thumb swiping her clit in rapid succession as he pumps his fingers into her. Her walls flutter around him, not quite at the peak of pleasure but well on the way there. He turns his attention to her ear, her neck, nibbling and sucking little red marks into her skin, relishing in her gasps at each addition. She’s starting to shudder, and his lips find her ear, his voice dropping to a growl, “My needy, greedy wife.”

At the word wife, Emma tenses, her cries filling their small bathroom as her body convulses around him. If his eyes weren’t trained on the way her breasts pinked up from pleasure, he’s sure to have missed the liquid leaking from her nipples.

That’s interesting.

She relaxes as he withdraws his fingers, pressing a few kisses along her neck and shoulder while pondering this new discovery. Sure, there’d been all sorts of cautionary details in their numerous baby books about milk leaking out when the baby cries, but unless he’s going quite deaf (she’d been loud, but not that loud) that’s not the case here. He leans back, sliding them both down into the water a little more as his hand rests lightly on her thigh. Her grip on his other hand loosens and he flexes his fingers slightly to bring the feeling back into them. After another long minute, she exhales slowly. “Hand me the soap?” Emma asks quietly, reaching for a washcloth.

He obliges, hardly noticing at how quickly and efficiently she scrubs herself, rationalizing it at how she must be in a hurry to get to the bedroom. He does get to fix her ponytail for her, tucking it up into a bun so it doesn’t get soapy as well as wet at the ends, but she hardly swipes at her back where she can reach with the cloth before she’s rinsing off. “I’ll clean up in here,” he tells her, kissing her wet shoulder. “Go dry off, I’ll be with you in a mo’.”

She hums, her tone noncommittal, and gets to her feet. He’s treated to a lovely view of her backside while she reaches for a towel, but she steps out and away before he can tease her with his hand.

He gives himself a brief scrub and rinse before opening the drain, grabbing his own towel and slinging it around his shoulders before blowing out the candles. It’s only when he’s emerged from the bathroom and toweling himself dry, the simmering smell of smoke still lingering in his nose, that Killian really takes note of Emma in the aftermath of that little incident. She’s standing idly next to their dresser, hair tugged out of the bun he’d crafted for her as she towels the damp ends dry and she is, much to his surprise and dismay, wearing a robe.

That’s… decidedly rather against what he’d been hoping for — what he’d been expecting, really.

But she looks… almost churlish, his Swan, brow furrowed and lips thinned into a line. Any traces of that lovely little high she’d experienced at his hands seem virtually non-existent now and that — that just won’t do. Anxiety flares briefly under his breastbone as he wonders what he could have possibly done to cause such a pivot in her mood, but he does his best to stamp it down. After another moment’s consideration he crosses the room toward her, towel still grasped in hand as he steps just outside of her space, hovering just around the edges. “Emma?” he prompts. “What —”

“Nothing,” she says, a short, clipped thing that doesn’t bear much heat. The flare in temper evaporates as quickly as it had appeared, and at the breath she lets out the room suddenly feels unusually empty. Her shoulders sag slightly. “Can we just… not? I really don’t want to do this.”

“Do what?” he asks, but she’s already out of the conversation, pressing her towel against his chest as brushes past him quickly, deliberately avoiding his gaze. It’s his turn for his brow to furrow but he turns toward her again with put-upon ease, intent on finding out what’s bothering her. He falters, though, over the first question that might have followed when he sees the way she nearly throws herself onto the bed with a disgruntled huff and draws her knees up toward her chest, face turning toward one of the plumper (his) pillows.

The arousal he’d felt earlier has completely disappeared by now, quickly consumed by confusion and worry. It’s been ages since he’s seen her so defensive, her walls and her armor long since shed, but she curls in on herself ever so slightly even as he sits on the edge of the bed to try and talk. His pulse hammers in his throat; it feels paper dry and his voice feels very small as he asks, “Did I hurt you?”

Her eyes flick up to his, the lines between her brows vanishing as her gaze softens. “No,” she says, the honesty plain on her face. “No, Killian, it wasn’t… it’s not you.”

Killian drapes the towel over his hips for modesty’s sake as he stretches out on the bed next to her. He believes her (she’s a terrible liar, he always could read her like a book) but the anxiety gnawing at his insides makes him ask, “Are you certain?”

She reaches across the gap between them and he takes the offered hand, lacing their fingers together. She looks tired, drawn, the circles under her eyes not entirely from the little sleep Aoife allows them. As much as he’s been able to do for her, it pains him that he cannot relieve all of the burdens that weigh her down, that catch her off guard when she’s unawares. “It’s everything I’ve been missing,” Emma says. “Well, almost.” The faint smile on her lips brings one out on his own face. “But the—the thing. I knew it was a possibility, but I wasn’t really expecting it? And it…”

He’s about to ask for clarification, but she’s frowning down towards her chest, red flags burning on her cheeks, and he’s struck with understanding. “Emma, that wasn’t at all odd.”

“Yeah, but it’s kind of embarrassing. And weird. And it ruined the mood.”

He waits until she’s out of qualifiers before reaching for her and pulling her close. She stiffens briefly, but she inhales and then buries her nose in his chest and relaxes against him. Killian feels the anxiety easing off at her touch, resting his chin on the top of her head. “First, it did not ruin the mood.”

“You were all distracted after it happened.”

“Yes, but not because I was thinking ‘goodness, Emma’s breasts are disgusting, producing the very thing that keeps our child alive at what may not be the most opportune moment’.” She snorts at that and he smiles. “I was thinking ‘that’s very interesting, how quickly can I get her to do that again and will it disgust her if I wanted to taste?’”

Emma jerks back, looking up at him with a raised eyebrow. “Seriously?”

“So it does disgust you?”

She chews on her bottom lip, looking uncertain. “Well, I don’t know. It’s not like I’ve ever thought you’d want to, so I guess it never crossed my mind.“

He shrugs. “It’s not like I’d thought of it before now either, but I have to admit I’m curious now. Aren’t you?”

She makes a face, shaking her head, and he supposes everyone has their limits. He strokes her back, soothing circles. “I’m sorry I made you uncomfortable,” he says quietly.

“Don’t,” she replies, just as quiet. “I should have expected them to leak.”

“There’s no way you’d have known it would make you feel this way, though.”

“I just don’t like not being in control of my own body,” Emma admits. Her breath hitches and Killian stills, feeling that this is about a lot more than leaking breast milk. “Everything over the past year… I love Aoife and I’m glad we have her, but… I don’t like feeling like this.” She sniffles and he pulls her in even closer. “First all the crap with my body changing and then every goddamn scare and bed rest and my hormones all over the place and now this… I seriously don’t know how you haven’t run for the fucking hills at this point. God knows I want to leave me behind.”

He doesn’t know what to say, but he knows enough from his own experiences that just letting her get it all out there can be enough; he might not have to say anything. There’s another moment of silence and then she laughs wetly. “God, first I throw myself at you and now I’m a crying mess, talking about what a terrible mom I am. I’m a fucking trainwreck.”

However, he has his limits, and letting her beat herself up over something like this is one of them. “No, love,” he says, urging her to look at him. He wipes some stray tears from her cheeks. “You’re my same, beautiful Swan. We made promises to each other, you remember? No secrets, no hiding anything, just you and me. After everything we’ve been through, you truly think I’d want to leave when things got hard? I love you far, far too much for that.” She’s quiet and watches him with those big, sad eyes. “And you, my own sweet lass, are far from a terrible mother. I know this hasn’t been easy on you, and I know that you know it’s okay that you aren’t bouncing back so quickly. But you’re fighting, love, and that’s what matters.”

He holds her close as she breaks a little, soothing her with soft words and light touches. This is not something he’s unused to, more mood swings and tears, and it kills him to be unable to do anything but be there to hold her and let her work it out; he’ll have to convince her in the morning to make another appointment with her doctor, but perhaps if she’s being so insightful about how she’s feeling it won’t be the wheedling and pleading it normally is.

When she stills and her breathing evens out, Killian gently untangles himself from her. “Let me hang up the towels and put something on, we’ll turn in early, aye?”

She’s so quiet that he thinks she must have fallen asleep. He presses a kiss to the crown of her head and gets up, heading to the bathroom with both towels in hand. The evening’s gone down several extremely unexpected avenues and Killian suddenly finds himself exhausted; guilt pinches in his gut – it’s not as if he’s the one going through these severe mood swings, he’s just along for the ride – but weariness drags at his bones regardless. He braces himself on the sink with one hand, scrubbing his face with the other.

Perhaps Emma’s not the only one who needs to call their doctor in the morning.

Picking up his pyjama pants from where they’re slung over a clothes rack, he heads back into the bedroom, then stops short.

Emma’s ditched her robe, lounging enticingly across their bed.

Killlian’s chest feels tight and he knows he’s failing from going slack-jawed. Emma’s mouth curls into a delightfully devious smile as she takes him in. “Cat got your tongue?” she asks.

Actually, his head’s spinning from how quickly things are changing, but he shakes his head and climbs onto the bed next to her. “A bit confused, but never speechless,” he tells her. “Regardless of how stunning you are.”

Her hand splays across his chest. Her face is a little puffy and her eyes are still a little red, but her breathing’s steady and her gaze is sure. “Look, I know I’m being a crazy person today, but I started something earlier and I damn well intend to finish it,” she explains. “And before you start, I’m positive it’s okay. I love you, I want to do this, and I want to do this with you.”

“Not your other husband?” Killian asks and she smacks him lightly, giving him a look.

“Killian, you’re being super great about all of this and I’m grateful for it. And I know, I know, vows and promises, but it still means a lot to me that you actually hold yourself accountable for all of that. So let me make love to my damn husband for the first time in forever, okay?”

“Twist my arm a little,” he says, and she takes his wrist, struggling to twist it behind his back as he chuckled. “Alright, love, if you’re sure, then I submit myself to your carnal desires.”

She rolls her eyes, then pushes him onto his back. “You’re so dramatic.” He opens his mouth and she promptly covers it with one hand. “Not a word, buster, or I’ll edge you for an hour.”

Killian’s not sure he’d be able to last that long and Emma has to know that, but he nods anyway. She replaces her hand with her mouth, kissing him deeply. He can’t help the groan that slips out as her tongue slips between his lips. He feels her climb on top of him, her weight a welcome presence on top of his body. Her hands wander, sliding up and down his arms, his chest, reaching behind her to play with the hairs at the base of his cock. He’s rapidly growing hard again, any lingering worries washing away under waves of lust and love for this woman –  his wife – currently trying to kill him with her bare hands.

She rolls them, mumbling, “You’re on top but I’m in charge,” against his lips. He can only moan an affirmative, his lips too busy being sucked and nibbled on to be used for much else.

He pushes her hands away from their exploration, feeling certain that even a light breeze could set him off at this point. He sinks his teeth into her lip and she groans, a throaty thing dripping with lust, before he dips his head down lower. Killian nips at her collarbones and makes his way down between the valley of her breasts, intent on tasting her core, but her hand in his hair stops him. “I thought you wanted to try something,” she says, guiding him towards her left breast.

“I thought you weren’t comfortable with it?”

She shrugs a little. “Can’t know for sure if you don’t try, right?”

Killian meets her eyes and she nods, ever so slightly. He smiles and runs his nose along the curve of her breast, noting not for the first time how much firmer, how much fuller it is. He draws lazy circles with his tongue, meandering his way to her peak, mindful of her whispered “Gentle” before wrapping his lips around her nipple.

He nails dig into his scalp and he eases off the pressure. He listens to the way she gasps, moans, or whines, switching up ministrations and how hard he sucks depending on her reaction. Some milk does leak out, just a little, and Killian hums in surprise. “What?” Emma asks, her voice thick.

“It’s sweet,” he mumbles, kissing the side of her breast before moving to the other, neglected one. “Like… that vanilla coffee creamer you buy me.”

“Oh my God.”

“You asked,” he tells her before getting to work on her other breast.

There’s nothing to taste but her skin this time, and how much pressure and what kind he puts on her doesn’t seem to matter as much as it did before. When she tugs on his hair, he starts to move towards her sex, thinking that’s what she wants next. She doesn’t let him go down on her, though; he does whine rather pitifully about it, giving her a full pout, but she only glares at him, reminding him that she’s in charge tonight. Instead, she rolls them once more so that his head is nestled between their pillows and slides down the length of his body. Hurriedly, Killian shoves a pillow under his head so he can watch, his breathing growing shallower and quicker as Emma’s hand wraps around the base of his cock and her tongue flicks out to taste the tip.

It takes every ounce of his willpower not to come immediately as she wraps her lips around him. He grasps at the sheets, at the pillows, at her hair – he can’t seem to keep still, even as she lays her arm hard across his hips to keep him from thrusting too deeply down her throat. After a few moments, she lets him go, reaching down between her legs. “You like this?” Killian rasps.

She nods, his cock not leaving her mouth; she brings her hand back up and smears her own wetness around his length, tasting them both the next time she bobs her head. He groans deep at the sight, babbling as she alternates licking and sucking him. “Turns you on, doesn’t it? Having a cock in your mouth, it makes you so fucking wet–” 

Her cheeks hollow out when she pulls away, cutting off any more words and drawing a long, throaty groan from him – he’s so close, he’s gonna –

She stops and he almost snarls in frustration; this must be how she feels when he teases her.

“Do you want to come or do you want to fuck me?” Emma asks idly, still stroking him lightly.

He notices she’s got her other hand between her legs again. His cock twitches, watching her pleasure them both at once.“Both,” he says, trying to catch his breath.

She smiles, then does the cruelest possible thing by letting him go. He watches her as she reaches into their bedside stand, pulling out tissues and a bottle of lube. “Just to be safe,” she says at his inquiring look.

She’s using the warming kind, he discovers, sending tingling pleasure all the way down to the tips of his toes as she strokes him and makes sure every inch of his cock is coated in the stuff. He grips her hips as she straddles him, positioning him at her entrance, and slowly sinks down.

Neither of them breathe for a long moment, the seconds ticking by as she takes him in inch by agonizing inch. He feels her tense up and as distracted as he is by how wonderful and warm and soft she feels, he still tries to get her to relax, gently rubbing her thighs and her backside, wherever he can reach. “Alright there, love?” he asks through gritted teeth.

She nods, but her face says otherwise. “Just – give me a minute to adjust. You’re big.”

In another circumstance he may have gloated at that admission, but for now he just felt too overwhelmed and elated at being seated within her again. He forced himself to breathe normally, for his hips to remain still, for his wilder urges to have, take, possess to settle down and let her set their pace. His hands continued to roam and soothe, and soon Emma’s hands were stroking his chest in return. He ventures a smile and she returns it, wiggling a little in place to see if it hurt; judging by the way her face brightens, it doesn’t, but it’s another cruel trick and one that Killian has difficulty restraining himself from reacting to.

Something must show on his face, though, because Emma giggles and it’s that more than anything that sets a soothing balm on his heart. “All right, I’ll have mercy on you,” she says.

He opens his mouth to respond, but she rocks forward and all coherent thought flies out of his head. The only things running through his mind is God yes, harder, so soft, so warm, so wet, harder Emma, and some of those things he’s not entirely unsure he hasn’t said out loud. Her mouth finds his several times, biting and nipping and kissing, and her nails run in progressively harder lines down his sides, but despite all of her attention he’s trying his very hardest not to come before she does.

She takes one of his hands in hers and guides it to her clit, her fingers staying with his as they rub circles around her sensitive nub. Killian pushes himself up on his elbow, planting his feet on the bed and thrusting up hard into her core. Emma rakes her fingers through his hair, anchoring her hand in the short hairs at the nape of his neck as her breath hitches. His thrusts turn wilder as soft pleas escape her lips, “Please, Killian, let me come, come for me,” and he loses whatever rational thought is left to him as he chases their highs.

It gets sloppier with Emma bouncing in his lap, but she’s trying to meet him thrust for thrust. He’s damned if he comes before she does, but it’ll be a near thing –

She squeezes him once, twice, and white heat courses through him, his hips stuttering as he spills himself deep into her womb. Emma’s cries are faint after the roaring in his own ears, but he feels her sex rippling and constricting around him, milking him for every drop of seed he’s got. There’s dampness on his chest, and as he regains sense, he looks down, seeing several pale droplets sprayed across his dark hair that must have come from her breasts. Emma’s cheeks are red again, likely not entirely from her own orgasm, and Killian surges forward, cupping her face with one hand as he kisses her. “You were magnificent,” he mumbles between kisses.

She holds him tight, wriggling delightfully in his lap and causing them both to groan over too much stimulation, peppering his face in kisses. “You weren’t half bad yourself – you’re getting us both messy.”

“Should probably take a shower.”

“Yeah, probably.”

But neither make the effort to move, too sated and relieved and eager to have this renewed closeness, instead falling back on the bed in favor of trading more kisses. It’s only when he feels his cock has gone too soft that he urges Emma off of him, not wanting to hurt either of them and cause another lengthy separation. She keeps rolling, right to the edge of the bed and then to her feet, beckoning him to the shower with a sly smile he hasn’t seen in far, far too long. As helpless to her wiles as a sailor is to a siren, Killian gets up with a groan, muscles that haven’t been used in far too long protesting the movement. He follows her into the shower, where he proceeds to not only clean them both thoroughly, but gets her a little dirty again by fingering her one more time; this time he holds her up, with one of her legs lifted up onto the soap dish so she’s spread nice and wide for him. She’s almost dead weight when it’s over, her legs useless and she’s more than willing to let him carry her back to bed after they dry off. Her cries of pleasure echoing off the tiles stay in his mind, the most delightful lullaby to soothe him into sleep later, Emma curled in his arms.

When Aoife wakes them a few hours later for her midnight feeding, Killian gently urges Emma back to bed. “I’ve got her, sweet, rest.”

“Have I mentioned I love you?” she mumbles, pilfering his pillow.

“A few times.” He kisses her brow, then leaves her reluctantly. He heads into the nursery, gathering a sobbing Aoife into his arms and bouncing her gently, gently shushing her as he takes her down into the kitchen. Movement always helps, and her sobs quiet into whining hiccups as Killian goes about the process of warming a bottle. “There, there, little love, Papa’s got you. There’s a lass, we don’t want to wake your mother.”

“Even if she’s still awake?”

Killian turns; Emma’s wearing her robe, leaning against the doorway, smiling at them both sleepily. “Love, I told you to go back to bed.”

“I know. I just… wanted to be with my family.”

She tests the bottle for him, then lets him hold it while Aoife drinks greedily. Emma tucks herself against Killian’s side and for the second time that night, he finds himself thinking that this is his favorite place to be: when the whole world fits in the circle of his embrace, all three of them sleepy, content, and together.

#captain swan #cs ff #cs fanfic #cs smut #cs kink #storybrooke downs #amanda writes #Anonymous #get back on the horse that bucked you

[rask-the-rogue]

Writing idea: Young Rask meets current Rask and they have a chat.

((Ok first of all thank you so much for the prompt.  This is amazing and I don’t know where it came from but I’m really grateful, as this was fun to write and different from my usual fare.  Not sure if this is totally canon or not– but then, I sorta figure that’s the point. I hope you enjoy!))

If I’m going to be honest, chronomancy has never made an ounce of sense to me, and it probably never will.  I avoid it wherever possible, but you know how dragons are.  They get some idea into their skulls and there’s no convincing them otherwise.  Chromie is no different, and any dragon that chooses a gnome as their mortal form is even less to be trusted, and even more stubborn.

There’s certainly a long story to how we ended up smack in the middle of Old Town thirty years in the past, but I couldn’t tell it to you even if I wanted to waste the time, because I have literally no idea.  According to Chromie, it was my fault, but I gently reminded her that she was the time-traveling, ageless mystical creature, not me, and that also this whole rigmarole was her idea, not mine.

Okay, maybe our discussion wasn’t so much ‘gentle’ as loud, and wasn’t so much a ‘discussion’ as it was an argument.  In the middle of my protest, I realized that I could feel eyes on us, and quickly remembered that as fun as time-traveling was, the area around us was still very much real and potentially dangerous.

As if by some instinct, I looked first toward the crates piled in the small inlet of Cut-Throat Alley, and my eyes landed on a pair that were just as brown and just as surprised as my own.  The little face flitted away from the crevice in half a second, but I knew what I’d seen– and almost without conscious permission, I was moving toward the crates, Chromie briefly distracted with her magical hourglass device.

The thing about these crates is that they’re an easily defensible hiding spot, but not very easily escaped from.  I’m still small enough to wedge my torso into the crevice between two of them, and my fingers close around the little wrist before the small dagger clenched in it can slice me, hauling the boy out into the open as he howls in protest.  Something inside me is protesting, too– it all feels too strange, like I’m acting in a play whose lines have been half forgotten.

“Oi– quit yer squrimin’,” I tell the child, who’s no more than ten for certain, skinny as a rail and so dirt-stained his brown skin is a shade darker than my own.  “I ain’t lookin’ ta hurt ya– relax, relax!”  He swings a leg for my crotch, and when I dodge that he sinks his teeth into the bracer of the arm that has a hold of him.  He looks up at me in surprise when I laugh– not a mean laugh, mind, but a genuine laugh of surprise.

We’ve caught Chromie’s attention by now, and by the sound of her voice I’m sure she’s giving me the stink eye.  “Hey!  No interfering with the locals!  Do you want to be stuck in this timeline forever?  I don’t think so!”

“Ah, fuck off,” I mumble.

“Fuck off!” The child in my grasp says, at the same moment.  I laugh again– and he sinks his teeth into the inner part of my elbow, which definitely hurts.

“Look,” I tell him through gritted teeth, modulating my voice so it’s not as sharp as the pain, “You stop bitin’, I’ll give you a gold. How ‘bout that?”“Rask,” Chromie warns from behind me.  Both me and the boy look at her.  She puffs out a sigh, blowing a lock of hair that’d fallen in her face.  “Oh, perfect.  Of course.  Look– you’re messing around with dangerous stuff, you know.”

“He’s a nine year old kid, Chromie,” I retort dryly.

The kid kicks my shin.  “I’m TEN!”

“He’s a ten year old kid,” I amend, with a wince, re-positioning my hold on the runt.  “Jus’ wanna have a brief conversation, how’s that?”

Chromie squints at me.  I squint back.   She snorts, figuring out that I’ve already figured it out, turning back to her device.  “You’ve got two minutes.  No spoilers!”

I turn my attention back to the kid, placing him on the ground and putting a firm hand on his shoulder.  “Relax.  Look,” I reach behind his ear, pulling it back with a gold piece in my fingers. He blinks at me, then snatches it away as quickly as he can.  His dagger’s still out in his hand, but at least he’s not swinging it at my face.  I keep my eye on it all the same.

“Cheap trick,” He drawls, jutting out his chin as he shoves the coin deep into a pocket of his grimy clothes.

“Aye,” I return with a grin, “It is.  Yer name’s Rask, ain’t it?”  His eyes narrow with suspicion; he doesn’t answer, but he doesn’t need to.  “Look, Rask,” I tell myself, “I’m here ta give ya a bit of a break, alright?  Only got a minute, but ‘s a minute where ain’t no one’s gonna hurt ya.”“Ya grabbed me,” He retorts, sidling back a step.  I let him, seating myself against the dilapidated stoop of the shop at the mouth of the alley– the one that only half-heartedly tries to pretend it’s not selling drugs and poison both.

“Sure did.  I knew talkin’ you outta there would’a taken damn near an hour.”  He gives me an odd look– I don’t blame him– but the pocketknife, too, is slid away into his trouser pocket.

“Fine,” he tells me, gesturing to show he’s defenseless, now.  I smile, knowing he’s not, really.  “Is that gnome yer boss?”

I glance at Chromie; she’s dutifully ignoring us.  “Fer now, I s’ppose.” I drop my voice conspiratorially, smirking at the lad.  “She’s bein’ a right pain in my ass, draggin’ me all over tha place, but I gotta say ‘m glad she’s dragged us ‘ere.”

Rask arches his eyebrow at me (I know he’s quite proud of his ability to do that), glancing around the dirty walls and cobbled streets.  “Why th’ feck’re ya glad ta be in this shithole?”

“‘Cause it means I get ta talk ta you, ‘a course.”  I prod him gently in the chest, and don’t reprimand him for his language.

His eyes are still vaguely suspicious, but he can’t hide the swell of curiosity my words invoke.  “Me?  Why?”

“Well– ‘cause yer a real important lad ta me, y’know.  An’ I reckon you’ll be real important ta people when ya get a bit older.”  Chromie makes a frustrated groaning noise; I ignore it.  “So long ‘s you stay fightin’ tha good fight.”

He’s still eying me narrowly, but he’s drifted a step closer.  “Yeah?  Is that what you did?” His gaze drops to eye the leather pauldron on my shoulder, and leather breastplate, a hand reaching out to touch the unobtrusive, but finely done, tooling around the edge.

I don’t make any move to dislodge his touch, of course.  “Sure is.  Not an easy thing ta do, but…” I eye him over again, from his matted hair to his bare, dirty feet, “It’s worth it, in tha end.”

An odd whirring, humming sound starts up from where Chromie’s standing.  “Time’s up!” She chirps, suddenly in a much more chipper mood.  She tends to be like that.  “Come on– I’m going to have to do a little work to smooth out the wrinkles you’ve caused, Raskolnikov.”

Rask looks up at me, confusion on his face at the name.  The last thing I want to do is stand up and leave him there, alone, in the grimy alley; he needs a bath, and a warm meal, and someone to keep him safe and out of danger.  That last one, especially, he needs so badly it makes my teeth hurt.  But I rise all the same, and don’t let any of that show on my face as I give him a cheerful wink.  “It’ll be alright,” I tell myself.  “Stay gold, eh?”  I can’t help flipping him another gold coin, which he catches in numb fingers, staring at me in surprise and confusion.

I drag my gaze to Chromie, who’s watching us with pursed lips.  “…Let ‘im keep tha money, aye?”  I say, quietly, as I draw up next to her.  She sighs, but I know her heart tends to be softer than the other dragons.  She chose a gnome, after all.

“Fine,” She relents, twisting a few dials on her contraption that I don’t pretend to understand.  Gold light surrounds the two of us; I look back to Rask, his little brown form warped and wavering thanks to the golden magic.  “Now let’s get going.  And no more interfering– you keep your tricksy hands off my Chronomancer.”

“No promises,” I retort as the boy’s figure flicks and disappears to the golden whirl, folded under the sands of time and lost to me in everything but memory.

#anon #ask #drabble #kid rask #oh ho the FEELINGS

[hellsangel456-blog]

Protective Much? A Ziam And Larry Oneshot By Me!

*Third Person*

Liam stomped towards Harry and Louis’ room angrily with Niall following after.

“I told those boys not to mouth off to management since Zayn and i were going to tell them about our relationship.” Liam growled as he turned a corner, breathing heavily. “But they did! Management was in a horrible mood and set Zayn up more dates with Perrie.”

It wasn’t that Liam completely despised Perrie however anyone that got to close to Zayn for Liams comfort was hated by him.

Niall sighed as he chased after Liam. He felt bad for what was to come for Louis and Harry. He knew that hiding in the closet for so long was very hard for the married couple. And that every time they saw management, they also saw red.

“Harry, Louis” Liam seethed as he charged into their room at full speed to find Harry cuddling in Louis’ lap playing on his phone.

“Yes Liam what do you need?” Harry asked innocently.

“What do I need??” Chuckled Liam bitterly as he glared at harry making the younger boy flinch.

Louis stayed silent as the two argued, trying to think of the reason why the mature one of the group was so furious.

He looked over to the door to give Niall a confused look only to find that the Irish boy had disappeared probably to get Zayn.

“Liam what’s wrong are you alright?” Harry said beyond confused. Now standing as he tried to make eye contact with the older boy to help him calm down.

“Don’t you act like you don’t know what you and your husband did! I told you NOT to mouth off to management!!” Growled Liam not even knowing half the words he was saying. He was completely controlled by his anger.

“Liam? Is that what this is all about? Come on lad calm down! What they said to us was completely out of line!” Retorted Harry completely surprised that his friend was acting the way he was.

“Listen to me harry, stop ruining my life just because yours is trash! Some of us actually have a chance at having an open relationship and don’t have to hide so far back in the closet that we saw Narnia!” Yelled Liam not thinking about a thing he was saying nor doing because he then viciously shoved Harry.

Harry, who was still sensitive about the topic of his husband and hisselfs hiding of their relationship, started to cry from his band mates words.

Louis was angry about what had just happened in front of him and shot up from his seat shoving Liam as hard as he could making the man fall to the ground.

However right at that moment Zayn opened the door quickly to calm his boyfriend only to have him fall at his feet.

Zayn quickly helped Liam up checking him for injury’s and giving him a kiss on the forehead before looking up at Louis angrily only to find Louis doing the same.

“What the heck Louis!” Zayn yelled angry that the man shoved his Liam.

“Ask your little boyfriend that Zayn! And also tell him to keep his crusty fingers off my husband!” Seethed Louis as he held Harry protectively in his arms.

“Don’t talk about my boyfriend like that you prick! Besides cry baby harry over there probably deserved whatever my boyfriend did to him anyways!!” Yelled Zayn as he held Liam behind him, not trusting his actions.

“I swear if either one of you talk to or touch my husband like that again, I’ll shove my foot so far up your asses you’ll have toes for teeth!” Growled Louis in a surprisingly deep voice.

“Fucking try me” Responded Zayn as he walked forward glaring at Louis.

“You just made the worst mistake of your life.” Chuckled Louis as he untangled Harry’s arms (who was crying from all the yelling) from around him and stepped forward so that they were face to face.

Zayn was the first one to swing hitting Louis in the face. However Louis quickly recovered by bodying Zayn towards the ground and punching him in the gut repeatedly.

Zayn groaned, kicking Louis hard to get him off and quickly standing up again. Both boys, ignoring the pleads to stop from both of their lovers, they went at it again, this time Louis punching Zayn straight in the nose that was surely broken.

Zayn yelped from pain then swung quickly when he saw Louis coming at him at full speed and ended up hitting him in the eye.

Louis fell back breathing heavily attempting to run back over to Zayn only to find that Harry was now bawling and clinging to Louis begging him to stop fighting Zayn.

Louis glanced up only to find that Zayn was in the same position as he was. Glaring at Zayn and getting one in return, he grabbed Harry’s hand and pulled him out of the room. Not wanting to be in the same room with them.

Zayn looked over at Liam giving him a why? Expression.

“I guess I was just really angry that they made management mad and ruined any chances of us being happy and free.” Liam sighed guilty that he had caused all of this trouble.

“The people that work in management are heartless creatures, sweetheart there was absolutely no chance that they would have accepted our relationship.” Zayn responded and kissed Liams temple.

Liam nodded quickly gasping as he remembered Zayns nose and guided his boyfriend to the bathroom. Tending to his nose there.

“My poor baby, well it looks like your nose isn’t broken, so that’s good.” Said Liam as he cleaned Zayns nose giving him a kiss after. “Now we are going down to the living room, do not get into another fight with Louis!”

“Fine, you are just going to forgive them that quick?” Sighed Zayn.

“What I did was completely wrong Zayn, I just hope that harry forgives me.” Liam said with a sad smile, very ashamed of his actions.

“Alright love whatever you say, I’m still angry at Louis though.” Zayn said still furious that Louis would do something like that to his angel.

“Yeah, yeah whatever you say Zee.” Liam said taking Zayns hand and pulling him out of the room.

Meanwhile Harry and Louis were just cuddling on the couch to help get Louis calm again.

“Thanks for helping me out boo.” Harry said smiling at his husband.

“No problem baby, nobody hurts my hazza and gets away with it!” Louis said kissing Harry on the top of his head.

“Just don’t fight with Zayn again alright, Liam was just caught in his emotions at the moment.” Harry said giving Louis a warning look.

“Ugh fine, I’m still angry that Zayn called you names though and said that you deserved whatever his boyfriend did to you.” Louis said glaring at the wall.

“Its fine boobear besides be honest, you probably would have reacted the same way!” Harry said looking at his husband.

“No I would not have!” Louis scoffed and rolling his eyes when he heard a sure whatever you say love, From harry.

Both stopped talking when they heard footsteps most likely from Zayn and Liam.

Turned out it was just Niall who asked the two boys if they were alright which they said yes to and then took his spot on the couch.

Not shortly after Zayn and Liam came down and sat on the opposite couch of Harry and Louis.

The two boys sat down on the couch cuddling while an awkward silence filled the room. Zayn and Louis were still very angry about what had happened and were glaring at each other.

While Niall was staring at the two boys nervous hoping that they would not start a fight.

Though there were two boys that were actually feeling some what happy, Harry and Liam were both smiling at each other, apologizing with their eyes happy that the other forgave them.

Zayn and Louis both sighed at the same time seeing their boys smiling at each other, they were still angry at each other. However both of their angels were happy and that was all they could really ask for right? ¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤ Niall scoffed from his spot on the couch. Realizing that the only reason the two started fighting was just because they were both extremely over protective. "Protective Much?“ he said rolling his eyes, before going to the kitchen to get a snack leaving the cuddling couples behind.

Who do you side with? I hope you enjoyed this one shot! This is also on Archive Of Our Lives and Wattpad!

[ishipfordays-blog]

NORTH DAKOTA X READER "my bunny"

Warning might be fluffy Pregnancy sucked and when I it sucked I MEAN IT SUCKED. Everything hurt I have uncontrollable gas and mood swings that are like going crazy and stretch marks. Sure your husband was was really supportive but there's not Much he can do. Right now you were lying down on bed trying get the twins to calm down yes ( I said twins eek) they jest keep kicking. You hear your husband enter the house and walk up steers "Hi Bunny"  north say happily and only gets happier when he looks at you "What did you do today" "Nothing much jest trying to get the soon to be our 2nd and 3rd child to stop kicking and making me be in more pain" you growl into your pillow then look up at norths concerned face. He walks up and lad next to you but you turn around "Please" he whispers "tell me where it hurts" you carefully roll over onto your back "My feet hurt and my belly has stretch marks and I'm fat.....why didn't I feel like this when I was having theta" you whisper back He doesn't say anything and get up and walks over you bed "what are y-" but stopped when he put your feet on his lab "Making you feel better" he said smiling you couldn't help but Moen a little when started massaging your feet Time skip to ten minutes later After he was done he  was done with your feet he headed near the small bag near the door and took a small bottle of something you cant make out he sat next to you and started to a lift you shirt p but you stopped him                                     he looked up at you and smiled "your buiterful your my little bunny" "more like fat bunny" you said back he sighs and placed one hand on your large belly he spends another ten minutes telling you how buiterful you are while doing so he lifts your shirt up. you go to put is down again but he stops you and gives you a pout "please I want to see your baby belly and make the stretch marks go away " ..."fine" He grins and starts rubbing lotion onto your belly you smile "it feels good" you said feeling better then you have in a while " I knew it would my bunny" when he was done you put theta to bed and crawl into yours north kissed you on the lips "I love you so such " he whispers "I love you to" you whisper back you both fall asleep with north with his hand on your bump (aww so cute) ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ "mommy daddy" you and north both woke up to see theta at the door crying "what wrong buddy" north says "I had a nigwt mere can I sweep with you guys" theta say slowly making his way towards the bed "sure sweetie" theta smiles like his father and hoppes between you and north " mummy "  theta say looking up at you "yea sweetie " you say smiling down at your son "do you love the babies" "of curse I do" "then why did you eat them" north started laughing his ass of and you giggled goodnight my boys eek all done I hope you enjoyed it please message me and give me ideas by my Bunny's