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theoldsports · 1 day

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SOUR.

Art Donaldson x Reader (Patrick Zweig x Reader) | SORRY series | 4.2k words

it’s finally here by popular demand. Patrick has entered the plot. this is set before all of the prior chapters, two days before the Donaldson wedding. can be read as part of the SORRY SERIES (read more episodes of their lives here) or on its own. lemme know if you’d like to be on the taglist.

warnings: 18+. angst. it’s brutal angst. more than allusions to Patrick’s canonical use of hard drugs. rehab, allusion to an OD, mention of Art’s disordered eating patterns. they’re bad for each other in a good way. the Donaldsons have a friendly dog. coveting another man’s wife. discussion of niche sexual fantasies. making out. biting. tornados/extreme weather. running away from your problems.

“Art?”

“Nngh.”

“Artie, wake up.”

“‘M up. Fhhh… ‘m up. What’s the matter?” Art grumbled with half shut eyes. “Somethin’ wrong?” He whispered even though they were alone. It was nighttime which meant whispering to Art.

“I don’t like this storm.”

What a sign that storm should have been.

Art smirked. “We’re getting married in, like, three days and you’re worried about the weather?”

“There’s a tornado warning. Or watch. Whichever the worse one is. I saw it on the news.”

Art frowned. “You ever been through a tornado?”

“No.”

Art rolled over from his position in [Y/N]’s arms to face her nose to nose. “I have. A lot. Close your eyes,” he commanded softly. His arm slotted into the dip of her waist and pulled her closer. “Close ‘em for me. That’s it, that’s it.” He coaxed as she followed his directions.

“I don’t see what this has to do with—“

“Shh, listen,” they both got quiet. Rain pelted against the windows. Wind whistled. Branches cracked and crunched. Thunder boomed. [Y/N] could see the gleam of lightning even behind her eyelids. “Hear it?”

“Which part?”

“All of it.”

“Yeah.”

“Great. Congrats. Your ears are workin’ best as they can,” Art teased to try and get his fiancé to crack a smile. “Now, which one’s the loudest? Which of the sounds?”

“You breathing.”

“I’m flattered. Which one outside?”

[Y/N] listened. “Right now? The rain, I think.”

“We’re in the clear for now. Let me know when the wind’s louder. Like that real, real crazy whooshing, whistling sound. When it starts whipping like that, we’ll go in the bathroom and lock the doors, yeah? Hell, we can head in now if it would make you feel better?”

“What if I fall asleep before the weather gets worse?”

“Don’t worry, I’ll stay awake,” Art yawned. “How about I get you up if I notice a disturbance. I gotta take care of my wife, right?”

“I’m not your wife.”

Art sighed. “…I know. I’m just practicing.”

Fortunately, no tornado ever touched down. And Art was still there when [Y/N] woke up.

It always amazed her that Art was still there everyday. For every nasty thing she said to him that she didn’t mean, every argument where she told him Patrick was right, every tennis match won or lost, every natural disaster, every tear shed. Art was there for all of it. He liked the bad moments as much as the good ones because it meant simply more time spent by [Y/N]’s side. He wasn’t going anywhere. Ever.

It was too much power, [Y/N] frequently thought, that she had over Art.

[Y/N] faced Art and brushed his strawberry blonde hair away from his forehead. Art often looked exhausted. He wore his tiredness on his face and shoulders. The exhaustion of constantly chasing, people-pleasing and being a professional athlete could destroy a kid. Art wore it like a Boy Scout badge. [Y/N] could watch him look relaxed forever. It was so rare he looked like that.

“Good morning, guard dog,” [Y/N] whispered. Art stirred. She could tell he was awake even though his eyes were shut due to that crease the reappeared between his eyebrows. It was never not there in his waking moments. Slowly, Art’s hand crept up and gently clutched [Y/N]’s wrist. Art used his grip to slide [Y/N]’s hand down his own drowsy face. He planted a kiss on her palm before tiredly looking at her. “Good morning.” She repeated to him.

“Hi.”

“Hi,” [Y/N] replied. Gray sunlight filtered through the window. “You ready for today?” She smirked.

“What’s today?”

“Patrick’s in town.”

Art dramatically threw his arm over his face and groaned. “I thought he was in tomorrow… Everything was so peaceful… And quiet,” Art mumbled into his elbow. He couldn’t keep a straight face for long and resolved into a soft laugh. “Whose babysitting?” He asked, peering his blue and brown eyes over his arm.

“I’m picking up the cake today, so I figured I could use his strength.”

Art sat up a bit. “You’re getting it today?”

“In the later afternoon, yeah. Why?”

“It’s gonna be, like, stale.”

[Y/N] glanced over at Art. “If we had gotten cupcakes like I wanted, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

“You’re such a little jerk.” Art teased.

“Me!” [Y/N] gasped. “It doesn’t even matter because it’s not like you’re gonna eat it anyway because you don’t eat anything.”

“Little jerk!” Art said with his crooked smile widening. He leaned in, slotting an arm over her. “You heard me. You’re a little… troublemaking jerk.” Art’s nose almost pressed against hers.

“Oh yeah? Why are you marrying me then, hm?”

“…You’re pretty,” Art grinned almost timidly, bowing his head. His flat vocal timber sounded like the verbal equivalent of a blush. “Like, really, really pretty. Even if you suck.” Tenderly, Art leaned the rest of the way in to kiss [Y/N]. Once and then twice and then seven times. Maybe fourteen.

And they would have stayed like that all day.

They would have.

BANG BANG BANG.

Like gunshots.

Their lips parted and they held long eye contact. They paused. They sighed.

“Patrick.” They both said.

With a bend of his arms, the full weight of Art’s toned body collapsed on top of [Y/N]’s.

“Pretty baby!”

“No. ‘M pretending he’s not out there,” He laid flat on her, head on her chest. “Can’t go anywhere now.”

BANG BANG BANG on the front door again. Cheese, the couple’s Labrador mix barked at the sound from downstairs.

“Art!”

“Mhm-mm. Nope. Too bad. Sucks for Patrick.”

[Y/N] huffed. “You’re upsetting the dog.”

“He’s upsetting the dog,” Art started to laugh. “He showed up early. I’m just laying here. Hey, hey!” Art jeered as [Y/N] wiggled out from underneath him from backwards. She tried to inch away off the side of the bed. Her shoulders slumped against the carpet, while Art held her legs in place on the bed. [Y/N] dangled in a half on-half off sort of way. Her oversized Stanford t-shirt rolled up during the drama, exposing her breasts to Art. Unashamed, he stared.

[Y/N] twisted her foot into the side of Art’s face, causing a small cry of disgust from him. Just enough chaos for her to slip away. Without hesitation, she tossed the lightweight door open and skittered down the stairs with Art’s long gate keeping pace behind her. His arms reached out in an attempt to grab her. “He’s early! He can wait! He’s never been early in his whole fucking life!” Art laughed. Cheese jumped and barked at the hysteria.

The chase continued until [Y/N]’s hand hit the doorknob and chain. She unlocked it immediately. As [Y/N] ripped the door open, Art’s arm encircled her waist yanking her to the side with the force of his momentum, causing her to laugh with glee.

And on the other side of the door was Patrick Zweig.

Smiling impishly, Patrick took in the disheveled appearances of his two favorite people. He bit the inside of his cheek. “Nice boner.” Patrick smirked at Art, while he pulled [Y/N] into a side hug.

Art didn’t have a boner, or at least a proper one. But the comment was enough to get Art to look. He rolled his eyes and pulled Patrick in for a hug. Cheese ran over to the door for attention, when Art greeted Patrick.

Art closed the door. Patrick ducked down to greet the Labrador too. He liked Cheese, but wouldn’t necessarily choose to be around a dog in his free time the way that Art and [Y/N] did. Cheese really liked Patrick, much to his chagrin, so he pretended to be nice. While Patrick sat on the floor with the animal, he looked up at his best friends. “What’s with the clothes? You just get up?” Art with no shirt in just tube socks and boxers, and [Y/N] in Art’s old college shirt and underwear. They had all seen each other like this so many times growing up that no one particularly cared that the future Donaldsons looked so post coital. It was pretty normal. Patrick’s smirk sliced further across his unwashed face with the ghost of a laugh. “Were you guys fucking?” He said like a horny teenager.

[Y/N] laughed hard and kissed her lifelong best friend on top of the head on her way to make a pot of coffee in the kitchen. “No.” Art sighed in disappointment, flopping onto one of the barstools in the kitchen. This disappointment was either disappointment in Patrick for asking, or disappointment in the lack of sex due to Patrick’s arrival. It was Patrick’s fault either way.

When the dog got bored, Cheese wandered into the kitchen for nonexistent scraps. Patrick pulled up a chair next to Art and dropped his backpack on the floor. “How’s it going, man? You look good. Feeling ready?” He asked, leaning forward to tap Art across his bare knee.

Art nodded as if it say it’s a sure thing. “Thanks. We miss you. We appreciate you being here. It means a lot.”

“I appreciate you being here,” [Y/N] cut in. “Because you’re in my half of the wedding party.” She and Art were always in constant competition over who loved Patrick more. Art wanted him to be his best man. [Y/N] won out, though, having known him since the age of seven and Art only since age twelve.

“Ladies please. Not all at once.” Patrick said. He stood from his chair and wrapped his long arms around [Y/N] in a proper hug finally. Briefly, his chin rested on her head. He stopped before it went on too long.

“Good to see you, kid. How’s it going?” At two months older, [Y/N] had been calling Patrick ‘kid’ diminutively for almost two decades. It was cuter before he got so tall.

“I called you yesterday.” He replied dryly, stepping back to look at her. [Y/N] noted Patrick’s intimately familiar eyes. Too wide, pupils too dilated. Hm. He wore a long sleeved sweater and jeans. And dirty tennis shoes.

“You bring something nicer than this for Saturday?” She teased, pulling on one of his holey sleeves.

Art snorted at Patrick’s expense and cracked a smile. His freckled elbows leaned onto the counter. “Yeah, yeah. I’m here for two seconds, ‘n you’re already giving me tsuris?” Patrick quipped to [Y/N].

“Tsuris… Never thought I’d say it, but you sound like your mom, Patrick.” [Y/N] scoffed. Art snorted a laugh too.

Patrick frowned. “Guess I have to kill myself then.” He joked harshly to more laughter from the other two. M

“Yep. Have some coffee. Both of you. I’m going to put pants on.” [Y/N] turned away and moved to the stairs.

“Aw, do you have to?” Patrick called after her. [Y/N] tossed a middle finger up over her shoulder as she walked away. Art hissed at Patrick’s comment.

“Do you have to flirt with my wife?” Art sneered without malice.

Patrick smiled that boyish small, wicked, unassuming smile. “She’s not your wife yet.” He snapped back. Art smiled at him in return. The two held each other’s gaze adorned with sick grins for a moment before both of them dissolved into laughter. Everything was a competition, but it was only real if they brought it up.

Fast forward a few hours and Patrick and [Y/N] were in the car. Art had taken off for a haircut because his mom thought he looked like a messy little punk and wedding pictures were forever. [Y/N] drove because Patrick drove too fast and without mercy. He had a sports car once when he was in school and still spoke to his parents daily and had notably wrapped it around a telephone pole and walked out without nary a scratch. How’s that for nine lives?

[Y/N] had a sedan.

She and Patrick both held a cigarette out each of their respective windows as she drove.

“You should really quit, y’know.” She told Patrick.

He leaned over and blew smoke in her face. “Yeah, I’ll quit when you do.”

Patrick’s rude gesture didn’t bear acknowledging. “It’s different. You’re an athlete. I watch movies and review them for a living. It’s expected of me. You… you’re making your performance actively worse. You’re kneecapping yourself by choice.” [Y/N] explained.

“I’m good enough to take the hit.”

[Y/N] laughed and took a drag of her cigarette, asking it out the window. “And you’re arrogant enough to make that comment. Sometimes I look at you and you’re still thirteen. I swear to God. It’s fuckin’ funny,” she said. It was quiet for a moment. “Art, though. He doesn’t smoke anymore.”

“I don’t believe you,” Patrick replied immediately with a wild look in his eye. That was apparently a big surprise. “He’s totally lying to you. There’s no way—“

“Nope! Quit on his own too. He just decided he was done with it one day and got all pro-athlete about it.”

“Y-you’re wrong! You’re so wrong. He’s a liar. Last time I was in town, we—“

“No. No fucking way,” [Y/N] shook her head in manic disbelief. “When you came by to—“

“Mhm. Yep. On the patio. You didn’t notice?”

[Y/N] shook her head. “No sense of smell because of… I’m a smoker. I just… He’s such a shit.”

“A shit and a hypocrite!” They both laughed. When the glee dampened naturally and the cigarette butts were pitched out the window, Patrick looked over at [Y/N]. One good, long look. “You ready for Saturday?” Patrick asked because he was a masochist.

[Y/N] found herself often thinking back on this moment. Was this when it had gone wrong beyond repair?

[Y/N] sighed. She would only ever tell Patrick and maybe Art this. “Yes and no.”

“Oh?”

“Don’t say it like that. I have been ready to marry Art since I was, like, seventeen years old. It is unfathomable to me how much love I am capable of giving him, y’know? If he wanted the Mona Lisa, I’d be robbing the Louvre tomorrow. He’s it for me,” she said. Patrick faked a smile very convincingly and nodded for her to go on. “What I’m not looking forward to is everyone I know being in the same room at the same time. I don’t like other people except you and Art. And my editor. That’s about it.”

“You’re not at all worried about spending all that time married to someone?” Patrick tried to jab at her with his words while he scratched his right forearm.

“Not with Art.”

“Wow. That’s awfully grownup of you.”

“Yeah, well. I’m a grownup. With a smokin’ hot fiancé. And he actually cares if I live or die. Isn’t that crazy? My parents weren’t like that with each other. It’s… Am I allowed to say how grateful I am to you for bringing him home for break that one time, or is that stupid?”

“It’s kinda stupid,” he agreed teasingly. In reality, he wanted more than anything to put himself out of his misery. My fault, my fault, my fault. The words looped in Patrick’s head on constant repeat. He wanted to rip his skin off for so many different reasons. He couldn’t take it and he was trapped. Fuck.

Patrick scratched his right forearm again.

“Truth or dare?” Patrick slurred. He was twenty-one and drunk for [Y/N]’s birthday. She, Art and Patrick sat on the disgusting archaic carpet in Art’s dorm room.

“Uh, truth.” [Y/N] said too soberly to sober.

“Boring!” Art said, putting his hand on [Y/N]’s thigh.

Patrick took a long swing of his beer while he thought. “Okay, okay. What’s your weirdest sexual fantasy?” He asked.

“Ew.” [Y/N] wrinkled her nose.

Art thought the question was epic, but wasn’t going to facilitate his girl’s discomfort. “Hey, it’s her birthday, she doesn’t have to—“

“Um, no. I’ll do it. This is an actual dream I had. I think about it kinda all the time. Oh my god, I can’t believe I’m saying this out loud. It so dumb. So, it’s Art and I’m sitting at the kitchen table with coffee or something. And Art… sings me Happy Birthday like Marilyn Monroe did for JFK. And he’s dressed like Marilyn, but like a boy. No dress, but like the boy version of that look. Then we fuck. That’s weirder than you wanted. That was weird, right?” [Y/N] rambled.

Art leaned in closer to her. They were all drunk as skunks and he couldn’t help bite his lip. His arm pulled her closer to him. Art was handsy when drunk, they were all learning.

“Whose Jackie O?” Patrick asked.

“No Jackie O. And I’m not JFK. He’s just Marilyn. Gentlewomen prefer blondes.” [Y/N] had laughed so hard at that while she tangled her fingers in Art’s sandy hair.

The car ride to get cake and the drive back was the last proper conversation [Y/N] and Patrick had. The pair got home. Nothing seemed unusual to [Y/N] at all. They talked the whole time without any dry spells. The cake, in pieces to be assembled, was carefully toted in and placed way out of the way from disaster. Patrick took his bag to the bathroom, claiming he was going to shower.

[Y/N] shouted after him. “You know where the towels are!”

Patrick looked back over his shoulder at her with a smirk and closed the bathroom door behind him.

And he went out through the bathroom window.

[Y/N] had no idea he had gone until she heard his car start. For a minute, she thought it was the neighbors. She walked halfway down her hallway and saw the bathroom door open. No running shower water, no half nude Patrick shaving or something. She ran back down the hall and glanced out the kitchen window and watched his new white SUV whip out of the driveway.

[Y/N] stood there for several minutes. Staring and staring and staring after him. Not a single effort to move. The first thing she did was pick up her blue slidephone from beside the sink. She called Art, not Patrick. Patrick made his choice.

[Y/N] hadn’t realized she was crying when Art picked up on the other line.

“Honey? Honey, you there? You buttdial me?” Art said. [Y/N] thinks he said shit like that for several moments before she spoke. She just faced the window and stared for what felt like ages.

“Patrick’s gone.”

“Hm?”

“Patrick’s gone.”

“What do you mean he’s gone.”

“He climbed through the bathroom window and drove off. We-we didn’t have a fight. Or-or… He just left. Like it was nothing.”

“I’m on my way. Stay where you are.”

Art rushed back in his blue-black jeep wrangler. It ripped into the smooth driveway causing the tires to damn near squeal. When he got out of his car and bounded to the door, it was clear that about half of his hair had been cut instead of all of it. [Y/N] would have laughed in an ideal situation.

“Baby, hey, what happened?” Art said breathlessly as he unlocked the door. [Y/N] sat at the seldom used dining room table the two of them used to hold their junk mail, sitting straight up and looking through Art. Art was alarmed. She never sat at the table and rarely was her face so expressionless. She was always feeling, expressing, something. He couldn’t tell if she was crying or not, but her eyes were red.

“Patrick seems to have decided not to join us this weekend.” [Y/N] said clearly.

Art closed up the door behind him and walked over to [Y/N]. His scraggly hair and bewildered expression lessened into some devastated softness. He knelt, as he often did, in front of her and took her softer hands in his. “Can you tell me what happened?” Art asked quietly. He felt angry tears sting at the corner of his own traitorous eyes.

“We went out, got the cake, got smoothies, and came back. We… He didn’t say anything weird. Nothing happened.”

“Okay. And then?”

“No, I mean, nothing happened. Like, he was on his best behavior. Like, he was doing so well. He seemed okay. Really okay, y’know?” [Y/N]’s voice broke and finally betrayed her. She choked on her last words and the tears followed. Art’s right hand traveled up the side of [Y/N] face to rest there in comfort. “We talked about everything, like always. He was totally fine. I swear. Then we got home and he says I’m gonna take a shower, or something. And then I heard his car pull away. That’s it.”

“I’m gonna fucking murder him.” Art said, shaking his head and gritting his teeth. He stood from the floor and pulled his own phone out of his pocket. Art leaned against the table [Y/N] sat at. He called Patrick. Then he called him again. And another time. Up to what felt like twelve times or so. He left voicemail after voicemail.

“Hey, call me.”

“Hey, it’s Art. Call me.”

“Art again. Call me back. What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“I’m sorry about the last one. Patrick, call me. Are you coming home?”

“Hey, man. Fuck you. Fuck off.”

“I’m sorry about the last one too. I’m… Understandably, I’m kinda… Fucking pissed at you. I don’t need to talk to you like that, though. Are you okay? Are you safe? What happened? You can talk to me.”

“You’re an asshole. I wish you could see the look on [Y/N]’s face right now.”

“Don’t come back.”

Eventually, the voicemail box was full.

[Y/N] reached wordlessly for Art’s hand. She could feel his rare anger climbing. He got this ridiculous blush across his cheeks when he got angry and she could see it against the sunset’s glow. “Art?”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry this happened,” He said, turning his eyes to her. “I’m so sorry, hon.”

“It’s not your fault. You don’t have to apologize, pretty baby.”

“Yeah, but he’s my best friend. He’s your best friend,” He ranted. “That was a dick move to leave like that. I’m sorry that happened to you. He’s a piece of shit.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“No! I do. I do mean that. For the last year, he’s treated us, especially you like trash. Do you not see how much more you deserve, [Y/N]? I don’t know what’s going on with him… Do you?”

“He’s…” [Y/N] looked down. “You think he’s using again?”

Art didn’t say anything, he just looked down. That was answer enough. [Y/N] buried her face in her hands with a shuddering sob. Art pulled her to her feet and into his chest. He buried his face in her hair, unable to hold his own tears back. Eventually, the pair landed on the sagging green couch. Art’s legs wrapped around [Y/N]’s middle. They kept the news on all night. In case he matched an accident description. They called hospitals and hunted for John Does that were over six feet with dark hair and stubble.

“What are we gonna do? He’s… He’s not coming back, is he?” [Y/N] whispered. Cheese rested his heavy beige head on her thigh. He obviously didn’t understand why Patrick had gone either.

“No, I don’t think he is,” Art replied, lips against her forehead. “I’m sorry.

Pathetically, [Y/N] raised her head to Art. “I’m sorry too. I don’t know what I did.”

“You didn’t do anything.” He said. [Y/N] forced Art to lean back against the couch and she laid her head on his chest. Cheese circled for a new position where he could be touching them both at the same time.

[Y/N] knew it was a little bit her fault. She leaned up and kissed Art on the corner of his lips. “It’s my fault.”

“Then it’s both of our faults. You can’t talk about yourself like that. You’re the only you I’ve got, babe.” Art huffed tiredly.

[Y/N] dug her hands into Art’s hair the way he liked. “Can I fix your haircut? Haircut’s a generous way to describe it.”

“Damn, I was actually trying out this new thing. You don’t think it’s cool?”

“Yeah, it’s big for guys who blindly answer their wife’s phone calls, I hear.” [Y/N] said weakly.

Wife was all Art heard and he melted.

“I have never known someone I love as much as you,” Art said. “I’m all in with you. You know that, right?”

“‘Course I do.” [Y/N] did know. She sunk her teeth into the freckled skin on Art’s right shoulder gently and he moaned. Over top of the spot, [Y/N] left a trail of kisses down Art’s bicep.

“I’m gonna call his mom.” He said once [Y/N]’s pace had slowed. Art’s stomach growled. When he got upset, he didn’t eat. [Y/N] told herself it was because he had forgotten to in stressful moments, but wondered if it was a punishment instead. She pretending she hadn’t heard the sound.

“They don’t talk.”

“I know. Just in case he turns up.”

Patrick did turn up. About ten hours later, wet and unconscious in the emergency room. Following a psych eval, Patrick went to a short stint in rehab. He had gone once prior at the age of twenty. Needless to say Patrick missed the wedding. It was too much money to up and cancel, according to Art’s piece of shit stepfather, Douglas. Patrick made no efforts to contact the Donaldsons since leaving, as he left or following rehab. Despite all of Art and [Y/N]’s tireless efforts to find him, all they had to show for it was his disconnected phone number and a crippling feeling of shame and loss. Patrick had vanished from their lives without giving either one of them a say.

Patrick was gone.

But Art was there for all of it.

TAGLIST:

@toxiclovergirl @basicallynotbreathing @miniemonie2001 @valentine333 @tremendoushorsepeachbanana-blog @athxnss @babyspice6 @diorrfairy @donaldsonsdarling @muthafuckingstargirl @avylanchce @shysstuff @soberbabes @ysuftmikey @pussy-f41ry

#art donaldson x reader #art donaldson imagine #art donaldson x you #art donaldson #sorry series #challengers movie #challengers #patrick zweig x reader #patrick zweig

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blueiight · 1 day

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“what can the damned really say to the damned?” is what this episode asks. and well… “nothing.” is what the show answers us with.

we are introduced to louis and claudia as ultimate outcasts to the mortals around them and vampiredom: louis attempts to maintain the illusions of humanity in similar structures once more, casting grace as his lost wife and claudia as his daughter, as claudia seeks to find other vampires. armand, clearly pissed about the interview as is, decides to draw upon 150 years of prior work experience as a playwright toward the end of this episode, which is quite frankly, a bit much considering how daniel’s already scared shitless. and theres a terrible romantic specter in europe following louis thats named lestat. its a lot going on here, and im bound to not cover everything. i do want to cover dreamstat, and me and you(5x) but i will wait for the season to progress to do that^_^

‘He asked me if we could go home. Home? Can there be a more offensive question? Run back to New Orleans. Pry up his bones, why don’t you? Louis de Pointe du Lac, dead weight.’

louis and claudia’s tension in this particular episode revolve around the killing — or the betrayal that prevented the killing — of lestat. et tu, louis? stowaways on ships, trains, and wagons and a totally alien environment where even the blood is hostile to them, is it any wonder louis dreams of lestat? is it any wonder, having access to louis’s mind, in pursuit of some understanding of vampires beyond the facismile of the nuclear structure, that claudia continues to feel betrayed? i always think to myself, if claudia had qualities that made the average fan more sympathetic to her, would they understand how she was betrayed by louis specifically that night? would they be able to sympathize with claudia’s incredible perserverance despite, and because of, everything thats happened to her? and how that betrayal is the underlying tragedy and romance alike of the narrative that made 1940 mardi gras’s aftermath so haunting that louis in dubai did not remember it or was made not to until the other night?

following that in the flashbacks is when dreamstat first appears, clearly an extension of louis’s own mind at this own point, and he asks louis:

Four years of grim wayfaring, and still no sight of the benevolent vampire. So how does denial manifest itself tonight? … Was she worth it?

its so telling that lestat is the image louis calls upon to embody his most bitter feelings toward claudia in this sequence. dreamstat deserves his own breakdown, especially in relation to louis& claudia’s conversation when she first finds the revenant, as well as the wider events in dubai…

speaking of revenants, morgan in the show is a proto-daniel of sorts an abandoned journalist whos interest in photography exposes the illusion of grace the wife and claudia the impossible daughter, and tries to understand louis through the perspective of the mortal hes been given — did he go AWOL, or is he a black bolshevik? louis when questioned absconds, and closes up what little of himself he’s sold to morgan. its a smart way to include him in the narrative, as morgan is witness to emilia’s beheading after she was attacked by said revenant… and louis turns his head, truly embodying the detachment of the vampire in this moment. human affairs, their problem. this is a really good example of whats meant by ‘human affairs’ in the show, by the way. this episode features claudia & louis facing racism from military to children, and thats not framed as a ‘human affair’, but as one of many haunting aspects of their immortal existences.

claudia, in the pursuit for vampires, continues the metaphor of adoption in how she tries to find some sort of companionship and her current understanding of romania as this ancestral home to the vampire. whats also noticeable here is how claudia trying to make sense of centuries of legends is a striking parallel to how louis in the present day attempts to make sense of whats ‘true’ and ‘untrue’ from her diaries. claudia’s private accounts in the present that she never intended to be so deeply analyzed as anything other than her internal narrative in the moments she wrote them has become, to louis, a similar sort of legend thats necessary to decode for his own sense of self.

She writes here, ‘I do not dream.’ I can confirm that. At least, that’s what she said to me once when I was talking about one of my dreams which were erratic and often in those years. Of course, she might’ve just said that to shut me up, but yet… she writes it here so… let’s believe it. She continues. ‘We traveled light in our ancestral home. We slept in the earth, took circuitous routes around the mad army goose-stepping its way toward mother Russia…’

I woke that night to the sound of chaos erupting nearby. Claudia was, uh.. . she was dreaming. Her head twitching like you would. […] No, I can feel her. I can feel her next to me. She’s having a nightmare. What’s worse than a nightmare? If your soul’s projecting out its fears, at least it’s up and running. But the absence of anything? The void, the nothing, pieces… coming back. Hours, nights, objects surfacing in water… It was just something she’d wrote. But it wasn’t true. She could dream.

dubai louis’s recollection of claudia and the existential dread of eternally being damned, the terror of lacking a soul, a rather catholic fear but still having a sequence of memories that cycle back into an immortal brain, replay in this inversed sleep cycle, can be malleable, forgotten, poke a hole in louis’s attempt to utilize claudia’s diaries as but an extension of his own narrative, and offers a glimpse at what is truly at stake in this second interview.

#yn.#iwtv #iwtv s2 #iwtv spoilers #louis de pointe du lac #lestat de lioncourt #claudia #armand #daniel molloy #what can the damned really say to the damned?#there is nothing louis can tell claudia that is enough .. l #Louis saying ‘as long as youre still here i wont kill myself’ :: Louis’s suicide attempt in s1x06 #theres so much more to be said but its 4 am #The equitable exchange of stories as daciana proposes being fundamentally impossible ….#happy mother’s day to daciana </3

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whateversawesome · 9 hours

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Spy x Family Chapter 98: An Explosion

Let's start with the most important thing and we'll go from there. Ready? This panel:

Blink and you'll miss that insignificant comment from someone we don't even know their name. Nevertheless, given the implications of Project Apple, this panel is huge! Because, even if back then it was just a rumor, there's a chance it could also be true. Project Apple could have started during the first conflict. This leads me to the following theory:

Anya's biological parents were prisoners of war.

The story about Twilight as a soldier, Martha and Henry, as well as Millie, Franky, and even the Lady Patriots Society tell us about the dehumanization of the enemy. So yeah, it's very possible that it was acceptable for either side to do anything they wanted with captured enemies, that includes experimentation.

And by prisoners of war, I'm not only referring to soldiers and medical personnel, but also spies. Wouldn't it be funny if Anya's birth parents were also spies? It's too soon to tell, but it's so much fun to speculate 😆

At the beginning, it's stated that Anya was created by accident:

Maybe she was "an accident" between two prisoners of war or between a prisoner of war being experimented on and a scientist 🤔

So here's another crazy idea: Everyone thinks that Anya learned Classical Language because it was used in the lab by scientists, but what if it was her biological parents the ones who taught her that language in order to be able to communicate with each other?

At some point, I thought that even if we learned about Anya's past there was a possibility we would never know about her parents, now I think we will.

About the Chapter

Clearly, SXF is an anti-war story that wants to show us how terrible war is for EVERYONE. That's why big and small characters, side or main, have been affected greatly by war.

I'm sure plenty of people will talk about Martha and Henry's love story. After this chapter, I think it's clear that they probably were separated by war and that Henry had to marry to save himself, leaving Martha up in the air. (I know I am a fool, but I keep hoping she's the one he married, but I don't think so 😭)

Anyways, leaving the cautionary semi-tragic love story aside (Ahem, watch out Twilight and Yor)...I see what the author is trying to do: The story shows us very clearly what happens to every person when pushed to their limits, when they and their families are in danger. It's a story about loss, loss, and more loss.

The story is trying to make the readers root for peace and be very adamant against war. This is a masterclass on "Show, don't tell." So even if a lot of these stories seem insignificant because it's about side characters, they are meant to influence the readers' point of view about war, so when it reaches the main characters, we all know what could happen to them. These stories are meant to raise the stakes for the main characters.

Now, I've said it before: It's very possible that close to the climax of the story, Ostania and Westalis will be at the verge of a third conflict. By then, we'll know much more about the main characters' background as well as many other stories of side characters affected by war (don't be surprised if The Garden was created as a consequence of it). So when we're close to the end, when war is about to happen, we'll know exactly what could happen to the Forgers, because it has already happened to so many people: loss.

Something to Keep in Mind

The more the story moves forward, the more curious I am about the Desmonds. Since all of the characters were affected by war, I'm wondering how were the Desmond affected? Melinda certainly has issues (did this happen during and because of the war?) and Donovan Desmond is still a BIG question mark. It easy to relate to what normal characters feel. If any of us were going through something similar, we would be terrified too. However, how is it for someone in charge? How did Desmond see and suffer war? I really want to know.

One Last Thing

If in two chapters focusing on two side characters Endo has managed to create such a beautiful love story, can you image what he plans to do with Twiyor, which is the main couple of the story??

I know I say this a lot, but after seeing this my expectations are high and I am convinced it'll be worth the wait.

Food for thought.

#spy x family #twiyor #sxf #spy x family analysis #Sxf meta #Sxf chapter 98 #loid forger #yor forger #martha marriott #henry henderson #loidyor

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sugawarassoulmate · 3 days

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More of shitty boyfriend daishou?????

tbh i didn't think anyone cared about him!! i never get requests for daishou 😅

words: 725

cw: fem!reader, cheating, unprotected sex, minors dni

he's still around, being the world's worst boyfriend. and honestly, reader's probably getting fed up of it at this point. he's never breaking up with mika, no matter what he whispers in your ear when the two of you are together.

you start to pull away a bit. you brush off his advances, laughing them off a simple joke, and you're making sure you're never alone with him for too long. he tries to put the moves on you but you're out the door before he can fully sink his teeth in. he tries to walk you to your dorm one night but you tell him you're meeting a friend instead.

after a while, daishou stops trying and you think he's gotten the hint. you wondered if the two of you could ever become friends once the awkwardness died down but the guilt of seeing mika's sweet face whenever she kissed her boyfriend killed that thought for you.

everything seemed fine. no more late night phone calls or sending nudes through snapchat. you and daishou could stand to be in the same room without palpable tension. his words to you were brief and while it hurt at first, you figured it was best than to continue the mess you were in before.

so when daishou approached you at a party — a get together between some of his teammates and other friends from campus, really — you didn’t think he had ulterior motives. his girlfriend was here and gave you a big hug. "it's been so long! we should hang out," she said, giving your hands a firm, loving squeeze.

you accept when daishou asks to talk somewhere quieter, thinking that he deserves some closure too.

"fuck, i need you to be quiet," he breathes, clamping his free hand over your mouth while the other keeps you pinned to the wall of the upstairs bathroom. you hadn't slept with anyone since giving daishou some distance all those months ago. the feeling of his long cock bruising your cunt had you shaking with pleasure.

you wanted to shout, to cry about how good he was fucking you but it all came out as a babble under his palm. it's probably for the best, you can only hope mika isn't getting suspicious downstairs wondering where her boyfriend ran off to.

"you can't deny of me of this like that again," a cocky grin slithers across daishou's face as he latches as the skin of your neck. "went fucking crazy not being in this pussy."

it's hard to ignore the tight feeling in your stomach when you hear those words, trying not to put so much weight into them but you've missed him too.

you didn't give much thought to date someone else — not like you and daishou were dating anyways — but you had given him so much of your attention, you didn't even know if you could flirt with another person.

there was no one else that caught your interest, just him. and it felt pathetic to admit it, having feelings for some guy that would rather juggle between two people than commit. but you can enjoy being a selfish person at least for now if it meant getting to enjoy the feeling on him.

knowing that time isn't on either of your sides, daishou fucks you harder. his hand drops from your mouth to lightly squeeze your neck, the dizziness only adding to your euphoria.

with your fingers in daishou's dark hair, you cum around his cock. any feelings of guilt you had wash away as you're overcome with the thought of "just daishou" over and over again.

"that's my girl, you're gonna take my cum, yeah?" he coos. "don't let a single drop go to waste."

even after he cums, daishou doesn't stop his pace, fucking his seed deep inside you. "ahh sugu, it's so much," you whine, feeling his cum running down your thigh when he finally pulls out.

daishou does his best to clean you up with toilet paper, flushing away the evidence.

when the two of you finally make it back downstairs, mika seems blissfully unaware that daishou had been gone for so long. she pulls you into a conversation about her classes and you try to follow along, ignoring the feeling of her boyfriend's cum pooling in your underwear.

#haikyuu smut #haikyu smut #haikyuu x reader #haikyu x reader #daishou suguru x reader #daishou x reader #daishou suguru smut #suguru daishou #haikyuu daishou #🍑#🍑daishou #shitty bf!daishou

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thebiggerbear · 17 hours

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"You're safe now, I'm here." - Soldier Boy x Reader - Prompt Response

Summary: Soldier Boy has been on a ton of dangerous missions in his time, fought a lot of battles, but never did he imagine he would be undertaking the one you had just tasked him with. Shit.

A/N: This is a prompt from @sydnee-kom-spacekru. A sort of sequel to the prompt response for "Sleep. I'll keep you safe." Been working on this since January 3rd. I had way too much fun with this one.

Happy Mother's Day to all of the mothers out there, all of the fur baby mamas, and all those who celebrate!

@deans-spinster-witch this is what popped into my head when you said "dangerous mission" lol. Once it was in there, I couldn't get it out. I hope it's decent and that you like it.

Unbeta'd so all mistakes are mine.

Warnings: Soldier Boy being himself; some misogyny; some homophobic language; some antiquated thinking (SB); angst; a lot of mentions of shit (yes, literal shit); language (I guess?); some smut; mention of breeding kink; a bit of a lactation kink (I know they did the Coke and milk thing in the show but you can't tell me he wouldn't have at least been on the verge of this kink if the opportunity arose)

Word Count: 11k+

SB Taglist: @deans-spinster-witch; @birdiellie; @heartlessdelusions; @nancymcl; @brightlilith; @muhahaha303; @just-levyy

“You’re safe now, I’m here.”

Ben let out an aggravated sigh for what felt like the fortieth time and turned back to the table, his nose wrinkled. He glanced down and saw his daughter’s wide eyes watching him as she kicked her little legs, slobbering all over the fingers of one hand she had in her mouth. He made a face and shook his head, remembering when he told her “You’re lucky you’re cute, kid”, when she’d done the same thing about an hour before. He didn’t know what was so tasty about those fingers especially when there were other tastier options available.

Speaking of which, you just had to pick the fucking perfect time to do your pumping shit so he would be stuck doing this shit, in the literal sense of the word. Ben thought he’d been on dangerous missions before but nothing ever made him want to retreat in the other direction more than the one he was about to embark on. The smell wafted up to him once more as the baby kicked her legs again.

“Christ, this kid fucking stinks.”

“Language!”

He rolled his eyes and glanced back over his shoulder, though he couldn’t see you. “It’s not like she understands what the fuck I’m saying!”

“Ben! We talked about this!”

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled, turning back to his little girl. “No cursing around the baby,” he mocked you in a high voice, smirking when a small smile formed on her face.

Another wave hit him and he held a hand up to his nose. “Are you almost done in there?” He complained.

“No! I still have a little more to go.” He knew that; he could hear the machine still making its weird noises almost as if it was next to his ear. He hated and loved that thing. Hated it because it was so damn loud to his ears and it ruined a perfectly sexy image in his head when he first saw you doing it. Loved it because it was helping your body do one of the natural things it was designed to do and it also allowed him to get some one on one time with you out of the house for the occasional few hours if you could get Elena or Queen Lesbo to babysit. As a matter of fact, as harsh as the sounds were and how unsexy it was, it got him downright hard sometimes when he thought of either scenario because both brought it all back to sex for him. Either he was daydreaming about fucking another baby into you while watching you or he was thinking about how he was going to be fucking you later that evening when the two of you were alone. This time, though, it was going to be neither.

You were getting ready to go out to have lunch with Elena, have some girl time or some shit. Whatever the fuck that meant. It certainly wasn’t what he’d been thinking the first time you mentioned it, which to him was a complete fucking wasted opportunity. He wasn’t into Elena at all or The One-Eyed Bitch Queen but he was definitely into seeing you get off. Just as long as it wasn’t another guy, he was good with it. But instead, his hopes had been dashed when your expression of disgust transformed into you pinching the bridge of your nose and explaining what girl time for you actually meant. His annoyance grew (and his nerves skyrocketed though he would never tell you that) when you mentioned he would be the one babysitting this time. He wasn’t happy but neither were you and when it came down to it, you were the victor of that argument.

And now he had this shit on top of it, pun very much fucking intended. Needless to say, Ben was beyond done at this point.

“Just change the diaper already,” you urged, your tone strained with the last threads of patience. “The longer she stays in her own mess, the more likely she is to get a rash and possible infection. Then she will be in pain and she’ll have to see the doctor. We don’t want that to happen. I’ve told you this time and time again and I’ve shown you how to do it. No more excuses, Ben. Just change it.”

Ben could feel his ire rising. “So you want me to do what you should be doing? I’m not the goddamn woman here!” He regretted it as soon as he said it. He heard you turn the machine off and he knew he was in for it now.

“What did you just say?” He heard you ask menacingly from the other room. Oh fuck. He knew he had about ten seconds to turn this around or the rest of the day and night were going to be shit. Worse than the actual shit he was smelling. He’d be lucky if he’d be able to sit next to you at the table later at dinner, never mind touch you again for the next few days.

“Nothing,” he grumbled, pulling a new diaper from the open package next to him and glancing down at the squirming baby in front of him. He was relieved when he heard the machine start up again and leaned over the table to lay down the law to his daughter. “Alright, look, kid, we gotta make some sort of deal here. You can’t be shitting up a storm and stinking up the place while your mother is out. Piss I can deal with. Puke, bad but doable. Shit…no fucking way.” He began to unbutton her onesie, screwing up his face in disgust as the smell slapped him in the face. “So if you really care about your old man and you want him to be happy, you’ll stop shitting all over the goddamn place. Got it?”

The baby gurgled back at him and he saw more drool coming out of her little mouth.

Ben shook his head, giving her a sharp look. The least she could do was not look so happy about him having to do this for her. He gently pulled her legs out of the onesie as you’d shown him how to do (he ripped one too many the first week she was home) and he frowned when he saw a damp brown stain, the smell becoming even worse. He lifted her legs and as he’d suspected, the shit was fucking everywhere, having catapulted past the edge of the diaper and down her back. He briefly shut his eyes and looked away, groaning loudly, “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.” He attempted to take a breath that didn’t smell like he was wading around in the worst shit someone ever took. Like he was that little bastard Termite and he’d shot too far off the mark.

“Now what?” You yelled back.

“She shit everywhere! It’s all up and down her back.” He looked back down at his daughter. “Really?” Another gurgle. “Christ.”

“Yeah, because she’s been sitting in a full diaper for the last thirty minutes while you’ve been non-stop complaining about it, that’s why! Just get her cleaned up and into a new diaper, some new clothes, and then put her in her bouncy chair so you can clean the table. Or if you’re feeling adventurous, give her a bath. A bath is probably better.”

“Why don’t you come in here and fucking handle it then? I’ve told you, my sense of smell is about ten times what yours is!”

You huffed out an aggravated breath. “Because you have to learn how to take care of her, Ben! You’re her father for God’s sake. You should be able to handle one damn diaper change without being a child about it! What if I wasn’t here anymore? You’d be the one doing it all then.”

He straightened up at that, glaring back in your direction. “What do you mean if you weren’t here? Where the fuck would you go?”

“Language, Ben! Jesus!”

His jaw clenched and he turned back to grab a fresh wipe or five. He bunched them up in his hand and lifted the baby’s legs and began to wipe. There was so much shit, the wipes were filled instantly and it got onto his hand. “Fucking hell!” His daughter’s smile faded and she began to look as if she were about to cry.

“What now?” You snapped.

“It’s all over my goddamn hand, that’s what!” He bellowed.

“Well, wipe it off, get her cleaned up, then wash your hands.” There was no compassion in your tone, only irritation.

Ben should have shut the fuck up right then and there, and just done what you’d tasked him with. But, he was fucking done and livid at your obvious lack of sympathy. “This isn’t my fucking job! It’s yours! You should be doing this! Real men don’t change their kid’s shitty diaper! Women do!”

The machine shut off again but this time, Ben didn’t give a fuck. He’d had it. He knew you’d be pissed at what he’d just said but too fucking bad. It was true, whether you liked it or not. No matter what today’s society had to say or not. Women were the caregivers, the nurturers or whatever the fuck he’d heard on that bald-headed doctor’s show the other day, the givers of life or some shit. Real men did their job in making the kid, being the father, and putting food on the table for his family while also providing a roof over their heads. That’s how it always worked and that’s how it should still be today. He’d done his job: he’d protected you, knocked you up with his kid, and stuck around to be its father, even after finding out it wasn’t going to be the son he’d initially hoped for. And here you were, trying to get him to fucking play Mr. Mom so you could go out for a few hours and get some girl time that wasn’t even going to reap any benefits for him after you’d left the kid with him all afternoon? No fucking way. His jaw tightened as he heard you approaching quickly. He didn’t care how pissed you were; he wasn’t backing down.

But just then, the baby began to cry, having been scared by him yelling angrily (and probably because she was wet and uncomfortable and had been for some time now). He glanced down at her, his jaw unclenching and his features softening slightly. Fuck no. Ben could withstand a lot of shit (minus actual shit), and not a lot affected him, but his daughter’s cries? And because of him? That was his kryptonite. “No, no, no. Don’t cry, Princess. Daddy’s sorry he yelled, okay? He didn’t mean to scare you,” he quietly soothed. He went to pick her up to hold her, forgetting that she had shit all over her, and he only realized it when it dripped all down the front of his shirt and his hands and arms were covered with it as he balanced her against his chest. “Ahhh shit!” The baby began to cry louder.

You appeared, the top of your dress fixed and buttoned, a furious expression on your face. You held out your hands. “You’re safe now, I’m here,” you spat. “Give her to me.”

Ben glared down at you. He had been spoiling for a fight a moment ago but after the baby started to cry, some of the fury went out of him, and apparently right into you it looked like. “Listen, don’t get all pissy because—”

“I said,” you snapped. “Give her to me.”

Ben shot you a look but did as you said. He watched as you got shit all over you but you didn’t even flinch. Instead, you snatched the fresh diaper from the table and unfolded it to place behind your daughter’s poop chute before grabbing the canister of fresh wipes and a towel. You didn’t even look at him as you passed by him to head into the bathroom. Fuck, he was definitely in trouble.

He grimaced down at his messy shirt and removed it, balling it up and throwing it into the baby’s laundry basket. He made his way to the open door of the bathroom, stepping in to wash his hands and forearms at the sink as he watched you in the mirror, sitting on the edge of the tub and filling it with water, the baby’s own tub inside it. You were cooing at your daughter who wasn’t crying anymore but letting out little whines that threatened to extend back into a crying jag if need be. The baby was unhappy and from the looks of it, so were you.

He dried his hands as you began to use the fresh wipes to clean your daughter. “There we go, Ellie,” you murmured. “We’re going to get you all nice and clean, okay?”

Hearing your soft-toned reassurances to the baby, Ben figured now might be as good a time as any to try to start melting away some of your anger with him. He cleared his throat. “If you want, you don’t have to use that thing. I can get in the tub with her. I have to clean up anyway.” He gestured to his bare chest but you didn’t even look up.

“I think you’ve done quite enough today, thank you,” you answered, your tone full of ice. Yeah, he was in fucking trouble. Fuck.

“Don’t be like that. I’ve told you, my sense of smell is ten times more powerful than yours. I tried and it just didn’t work out.” He crossed his arms, his jaw tight. Why would you be fucking pissed at him? He tried his best. He got shit all over for him as a result for Christ’s sake. And he only spoke the truth.

“And what the fuck do you think this is? Chocolate? Paint?” You gestured to the shitty fresh wipes sitting in the diaper and to your ruined dress. That wasn’t what stopped him short; you never cursed in front of your daughter.

You continued to carefully clean the baby in your lap. “I told you when I found out I was pregnant that I would do it myself. You could take off and go do whatever you wanted to do after you held up your end of the deal. You could go get high, get drunk, fuck a ton of women, play at being a superhero — whatever. But no, you said you wanted to stay. Insisted on it, actually. I told you then.” You threw another freshwipe into the diaper and grabbed a clean one. “If you stay, if you really want this, then you need to be all in. Do you remember that?”

“What the fuck are you talking about? I am all in.”

“You call this all in?” You gestured towards the messy baby who had her hands in her mouth, watching her mother, tears still dotting her eyes.

Ben started to feel uncomfortable, something almost like shame itching at his skin, and he didn’t care for it. He dropped his gaze to the ground. “So I didn’t change one shitty diaper. You don’t need to make a big fucking deal over it.”

“Ben,” you seethed. “Look at me.”

He reluctantly glanced up at you, still annoyed.

“She’s your daughter and she can’t do these things for herself right now. Sometimes it’s going to be messy and sometimes it’s going to smell so bad you gag. And yeah, sometimes it’s going to make you uncomfortable, but you push through all of that because you’re her father and you love her no matter what. Because you want to take care of her, to make sure she is healthy and happy every single day. She’s our responsibility for the rest of our lives. It’s no longer about you, me, or anyone else. It’s about her. Just her. That’s it.”

He unclenched his jaw, hearing the seriousness of what you were saying, the truth he didn’t want to think about underlying your very words. It wasn’t that he didn’t love his daughter, he did, but why were you so insistent on giving him the dirty work? You knew how he felt about doing this type of shit. Not to mention, it felt like you were trying to shame him for not wanting to change one fucking diaper, like you were implying that he wasn’t a good father if he didn’t waltz into the nursery, smiling and eager to do it. He was a good father and a damn good provider. If it wasn’t for him, you wouldn’t even have this place to call home. He was the one who sacrificed and played nice with the old bitch and Butcher. Hell, If it wasn’t for him, neither of you would even be here right now!

Ben hated himself when he had that thought. What the fuck was wrong with him? But since he didn’t want to look at that too closely, instead he turned it back on you.

“I don’t need you lecturing me on how to be a father. I am a good father, goddammit! Hell, I’m a better father than my old man ever was. I provide for her and you every single day. I gave up everything to protect you, be with you, and be there to take care of my kid. Which is a lot fucking more than some of the other dames I’ve knocked up over the years can say. I put my life on the line for you both! And this is the thanks I get? Because I didn’t change one shitty fucking diaper?” He scoffed. “You are one ungrateful bitch.”

Your eyes widened slightly and Ben regretted his words the moment they flew out of his mouth. He hadn’t meant to say those things, not to you.

Your eyes dropped to your daughter in your lap who was staring back up at you. You nodded and after a moment, you scowled up at him. “Well, since we’re such a burden and keeping you from your great life…don’t let the door hit you on your misogynistic and spoiled ass on the way out.” He could see your eyes shimmering but he could also see the absolute fury and ice daggers you were shooting him with, too. He knew then just how badly he had fucked up.

“Y/N, I—”

“I mean it. Get your shit and leave. I’ll do this alone just like I planned to all along anyway. There you go, you’re free. No more nagging from this ungrateful bitch, no more having to act like you give a shit about either of us, no more being weighed down. You’re free to go and get fucked up and drink all you want, Soldier Boy. Go knock up some more dames and then leave them to raise those kids all on their own, too. You know, like a real man does.” If your glare could kill alone, Ben would be six feet under right now, the one thing that could end him that the Ivans never found out about.

You placed your daughter in her little tub and stormed over to him, shoving him out the door. You couldn’t really move him but he was so caught off guard at your outburst, your words, that he moved where you pushed him. “And best of all, no more shitty fucking diapers!” You slammed the bathroom door in his face and locked the door, knowing it wouldn’t keep him out if he wanted in, but the message was clear. You were done and you were willing to go it alone; you didn’t need him and you had enough of his bullshit. He’d not only heard it in your voice, your words, but he’d also seen it in your eyes. That hurt way more than he ever thought it would.

He stood there staring at the door, stunned. His daughter began to cry and he heard you soothe her with “Shhh, it’s okay, sweetness. Mommy’s here. We’re going to get you all cleaned up and feeling better in no time. Don’t you worry, Ellie.” You began to coo to her as you bathed her and before long, she was making happy noises again. You’d even made her laugh once.

Ben stood there, not feeling right about what just happened or that his family was on the other side of the door. He could break it down if he wanted to, you both knew that, but he wouldn’t. Nor would he break the lock to get in. He knew he had let his irritation get the best of him and he’d said some things that he couldn’t take back, no matter how he might try to apologize now. Why the fuck had he said those things, anyway?

He loved the life you had now (minus the shitty diapers obviously) and the family you’d started to build. Hell, he loved you, something he hadn’t ever really felt before for a woman other than his mother. He thought he’d felt it once with Crimson Countess but he’d been wrong. What he thought he felt for her paled in comparison to what he actually felt for you. Not just for having his kid but also for loving him and not the suit. Yes, you’d gone to him for protection and yes, he’d done his best to take advantage of that fact, but something genuine formed between the two of you. Before long, he wasn’t just protecting you to hold up his end of the deal, he was also protecting you because he couldn’t bear to lose you. He was over a century old and he had never come across someone like you before, someone who actually saw worth in him as something more than a quick lay or a celebrity or a supe. Someone who worried for him when he left your sight or took on one of your would-be assailants. Someone who actually wanted to build a life with him — with him, not Soldier Boy.

So why the fuck had he said those things? He knew why. You had made him feel ashamed that he hadn’t gotten the job done, that he hadn’t completed the one mission you’d given him and you hadn’t even left the house yet. You’d had to come in and rescue him, do the task instead, and you hadn’t balked or even thought twice about it.

You were softly singing to Ellie and he could hear a couple of breaks in your voice, betraying how upset you really were though you were trying to hide it for your daughter’s sake.

Ben hung his head in shame when he heard you get choked up and stop for a moment, sniffling, before you started back up again. He threw on a fresh shirt and got to work cleaning the shit from the changing pad and this time, he didn’t complain.

Ben watched as you carried the baby into the room, still not looking at him. You saw that the table was clean and moved over to place your daughter on it, grabbing the clean onesie he’d set aside and began to dress her. “You’re still here?” You bit out though he could detect a hint of genuine surprise there, too.

“Still here,” he murmured, hoping you would hear how sorry he was without him having to say it.

You finished buttoning up the onesie and popped the pacifier into Ellie’s mouth that he’d left out for you. “Think you can manage to watch her while I take a ten minute shower?”

“Since when do you take ten minute showers?” He’d meant it as a teasing question, to try to lighten the mood a little, but you turned a glare onto him, beginning to unbutton the top of your dress.

“Forget it. I’ll put her in her bouncy seat and bring her in with me. You can go.” You went to pick up the baby when he held his hands out.

“I can watch her. Go take your shower.”

He could see the clear distrust in your eyes but you handed him your daughter nonetheless but not before you kissed her head. “Mommy will be right back, Ellie,” you whispered, stroking her back. You glanced up at him, unsure, but then turned to make your way to the bathroom, continuing to undo the fastenings on your dress. He let out a huge sigh when he heard the door snick closed and the shower start up.

“Daddy’s in big trouble, Princess,” he murmured to Ellie. She gazed up at him, going to town on her pacifier, her brows drawing together slightly from the effort. He smiled and dropped a kiss down on her little forehead. “That’s one thing you have in common with your old man. We love the nipples.” He chuckled under his breath, imagining just how hard you would roll your eyes and swat at his shoulder if you heard that. But instead, he heard a much more heartbreaking sound from you. You were crying…in the shower. Fuck.

At that moment, he heard a car slowing down and pulling into the driveway. One glance out the window confirmed it was Elena. In the midst of all this, he’d forgotten you had plans for the day. Just then, he got an idea and hurried towards the front door. He had just reached it by the time Elena was about to push the doorbell. He whipped it open, making her jump in surprise. After she saw it was Ben with the baby in tow, she recovered quickly. “Oh, hey Ben. Is Y/N ready yet? Hi, Ellie.” She gave a tiny wave to your daughter, smiling.

“Uh, not yet. She’s in the shower. Hey, can you watch Ellie for a few? I’ve got something I need to do and I can’t take her with me.”

Elena seemed uncertain for a moment, studying him as if she were wondering what he was about to do, but then relented with a shrug. “Sure.” He opened the door wider for her to come in and once she had put her coat and purse on a chair, he handed Ellie over to her.

“Thanks. Be right back, Princess.” He stroked the back of the baby’s head with his fingers before hurrying out of the room, intent on doing whatever he had to in order to make things right.

Ben quietly slipped into the bathroom, undressed, and snuck into the shower behind you. You had stopped crying after the doorbell sounded so you most likely knew Elena was here and waiting. You were rubbing suds-covered hands all over the front of your body.

While you cleaned your front, Ben’s eyes roamed over your back. He was already predictably hard, just seeing you naked. You had the perfect ass and even though you still had some baby weight that you were trying to lose, in his eyes, you were fucking gorgeous. You had mournfully admitted a couple of weeks ago that your stomach was soft and you were embarrassed by the visible stretch marks and your wider hips, not to mention the few pounds sticking around. Your breasts were bigger (something he didn’t see as a problem), the areolas darker than ever before, and you were feeling a bit insecure about your new shape. He loved the new you, which he made sure to tell you over and over as he fucked you that night. You were the mother of his kid, you’d given birth to her, nourished her from your body, and you could give him even more. It endlessly fascinated him that his seed had taken root in you and a healthy child grew from it, one that was half you and half him. He’d literally fucked a baby into you and every time he saw you like this, he wanted to do it again (though you’d told him your body needed at least a year or two to recuperate before you could even entertain the idea of another pregnancy). You looked so fucking gorgeous carrying his kid and now, you were even more beautiful if that was possible. It was pure beauty that he saw when you breastfed his daughter, when you smiled down at her, talked to her, and rocked her to sleep. There wasn’t a day that went by that he didn’t want you, on your back (or your hands and knees, he wasn’t picky), taking load after load from him until he knocked you up once more.

So he had been dumbfounded and almost incredulous when you nervously admitted all of this to him, implying that maybe he didn’t find you attractive anymore and maybe he’d prefer a flat-stomached, tighter, younger, free-to-bang-all-day woman instead. That or some old lady. He’d fucked that notion right out of your head.

But now as he stepped toward you, not only was he incredibly turned on by you and how beautiful he still thought you were, but he also realized right then, just like he had many times before this moment, you were the only one he wanted. He wrapped his arms around you and pressed a kiss to your wet shoulder.

You let out a small gasp in surprise. “Where’s Ellie?”

“Elena’s got her.”

“Well, I’m not doing anything with you in this shower so you might as well get out,” you snapped and attempted to wriggle out of his embrace. When you couldn’t, you huffed out an aggravated breath and went back to rubbing soap over your skin.

He nosed your wet hair out of the way to get closer to your ear. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I never should’ve said that shit.”

“No, you shouldn’t have,” you muttered, gliding soap down your arms.

“I love you,” he murmured to the skin of your neck before dropping a kiss. “I love my little princess.” Another kiss. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Really? Because it sounds like you want to be somewhere else.”

“No, I don’t,” he assured. “I told you when I knocked you up. You two are it for me.”

You slowed down your movements and he took the opportunity to hug you a little tighter, burying his nose underneath your jaw. “I mean it, doll. This is right where I want to be.” He slowly ground his erection into the small of your back to also illustrate his point. He meant every fucking word; with you, around you, in you — there was no other place he’d rather be.

You attempted to turn around in his arms and he loosened his grip so you could. He nearly let out a soft groan at the feel of your soap-slicked skin sliding against his dick. You stared up into his eyes and the smirk that formed on his face was beyond dirty, thinking you two were about to get to the fun part, your argument a thing of the past when you cupped his bearded cheeks in your suds-covered hands.

“Ben,” you whispered. “I need to know that if something happens to me…that you’ve got this with Ellie.”

Ben’s grin morphed into a frown and his brows furrowed. “What the fuck are you talking about? What do you mean if something happens to you?”

Your eyes began to glisten and his heart dropped inside his chest. What the fuck hadn’t you told him?

“Did some cocksucker threaten you?” He growled menacingly, the rage he worked so hard to tamp down for yours and Ellie’s sakes was attempting to breach the surface at the thought of someone even thinking about hurting you. Mallory had said you’d be safe here; had the old bitch lied?

You shook your head and that only helped to quell the fire burning deep within slightly. A light appeared on your face and you glanced down as it got brighter, eyes wide in fear. “Your chest is glowing. Ben, stop! You need to calm down.”

He took deep breaths as he’d learned to do, telling himself that you were here in his arms, right now, and you were safe. You were not in any danger. Hearing the sounds of his daughter a few rooms away helped him to get this fucking thing inside of him under control. He hated it, hated what the Reds had done to him, but it was now forever a part of him. He would do whatever it took to keep you both safe, even from this goddamn weapon inside his chest.

When you met his eyes again, there was no more light, no more glow lighting up your face from below. You lifted yourself up on your toes and brushed your lips against his. “Thank you,” you whispered.

Ben nodded and wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you up against him. He nuzzled you, feeling much calmer than he had a few moments before, but he still saw the same worry in your gaze that he’d seen before his inner nuke started to fire up. “Talk to me,” he implored.

You pressed your lips together and briefly looked away and he knew you didn’t really want to say what you were about to. It made him incredibly nervous. While you two had argued before and you’d told him to go when he was being an ass…what if what you meant was that you wanted out of this? Fear immediately took hold of him — fear of losing you, fear of losing Ellie, and all because he’d been a stupid fuck who couldn’t keep his mouth shut. You both were the two best things that had ever happened to him since being injected with Compound V. He didn’t want to go back to before. He only wanted now and the two of you. Hell, he wanted to keep creating a family with you, the family he’d always desired but never had. What had seemed within his grasp just hours ago now seemed to be getting further and further away.

That thought had him speaking — no, downright begging. Soldier Boy begging…only for you. “Look, I know I’ve been a dick and I said some really fucked up shit earlier but I didn’t—”

You gently placed your fingers against his lips, effectively stopping him. You stared up at him sadly and that fear kicked into high gear. Fuck, he was losing you. And all because he hadn’t been able to keep his goddamn mouth shut or change one fucking dirty diaper. He’d fucking failed and now he was going to lose you and that dream he wanted to realize with you all in one swoop. All because he really was America’s Asshole.

But when you finally spoke, you said the last thing he expected. “I spent months running from Vought’s death squads before I found you. Even with you protecting me, even after I got pregnant, I was still in danger because they wanted me dead.” Your voice broke on the last word, betraying the tears that were imminent, along with the shimmering in your eyes getting worse.

His brows drew together in concern but he gently grasped your chin, making sure that you not only continued looking at him but that you heard every word he was about to say. “But you’re safe now,” he murmured. “Vought’s gone, Edgar and Homelander are dead…I would never let anything happen to you.”

Tears began to roll down your cheeks. “I know, but I keep thinking what if something goes wrong? What if one of the supes out there finds us? What if they get wind that I’m still alive? What if the surviving board members decide that I’m still a liability?”

He shook his head, moving his thumb up to stroke your cheek reassuringly. “No one survived. I made sure of it.” He placed his forehead down onto yours. “I promised I’d keep you safe, you both safe, and I did.” Ben tenderly rubbed his nose along yours. “Still do.”

He was slightly relieved that you weren’t thinking of leaving him but also unhappy that you had still been worrying about this all of this time and he hadn’t had a clue. He was going to do whatever it took to reassure you, to remind you that you were safe and that you no longer needed to worry about any of those pricks that you’d had to run from before. He still remembered the nightmares you’d had, the jumps and startles in the middle of the night at the slightest sound. Eventually, it prompted him to hold you when you went to bed, promising to keep you safe so you could get some sleep while he kept watch. You would finally relax in his arms and close your eyes, content to listen to his strong heartbeat underneath your ear, knowing you were indeed protected.

Sure, you’d kept your end of the deal and let him fuck you once you’d gotten some rest from running nonstop, but instead of getting bored like he usually did after hitting the same pussy a couple of different times, he’d actually started to like you. So he’d kept you close while he turned the hunt around to make Onehander, Edgar, and all of those assholes the prey instead. When he found out you were carrying his kid, he decided he’d do whatever it took to make you both safe and even ended up teaming up with the Brit and his team again, though he still didn’t trust them. Hell, he’d even made a deal with them to settle in this area and get you this house when you’d told him you wanted a home for your child to grow safely up in, to put down roots. He’d put up with your nearby neighbors, with having to see the One-Eyed-WonderBitch again, and shifting from the Supe life to suburban life (which was not an easy transition for him by any means). He did it all for you…for you and Ellie and the family you had chosen to have with him.

So to see now that after everything, you still didn’t feel completely safe, well…that bothered him. What kind of man had he been for you to keep feeling scared that Vought might come back at any moment to haunt you? He’d never given you details of the day that he’d annihilated them all for you because he knew you didn’t want them, but maybe he should have. If he had, maybe that would’ve helped to allay your fears of any possible reprisals.

“I know you do,” you broke into his thoughts. “But…what if something else happens? What if I get sick or get hit by a car or I have an accident and fall or I have a medical emergency that could be fatal or—”

“Hey,” he interrupted your rambling. “You’re spiraling.” Something you’d done quite a bit when you first met. His heart sunk at the thought; this had gotten to that point and he hadn’t had one goddamn clue. He’d been so wrapped up in you and Ellie and the life you were building that he hadn’t even seen it. Maybe his father had been right; he was a fuck up. An assertion by the old man that you’d unknowingly been dismantling every single day with how much you loved and believed in Ben, but now…now he felt as if he didn’t deserve you. He watched more tears spill down your cheeks and he knew he definitely didn’t; here was the proof.

“I know,” you sobbed. “I’m sorry. I just…” You took in a ragged breath and looked into his eyes, your bottom lip starting to wobble. “I need to know that if something happens to me, that you’ll take care of Ellie the way she needs to be taken care of. If I’m gone, she’s going to need you and I need to know that she’ll be okay.”

He tried his best not to be insulted, not to show it for your sake so he wouldn’t upset you anymore than you already were, but it stung his ego a bit. “Of course, she would be okay. I’ve kept her safe this long, haven’t I?”

“I’m not just talking about safety, Ben. I’m talking about you actually taking care of her. Not just providing for her, but actually being there for her whenever she needs you. Like the diaper change I asked you to do today. Is it disgusting? Sure. No one likes dealing with it, smelling shit, getting it all over you…but she’s your daughter and she needed you to take care of it for her. What if I had gone for breakfast with Elena instead? Would she have sat in her own crap until I came back home because you feel as a man that it’s beneath you to change your own daughter’s diaper?” More tears appeared. “What if something had happened to me while I was out? Would you just push Ellie onto Elena and Maggie to take care of her so you could go back to your old life? All so you wouldn’t have to do any of the messy or hard stuff? Would you abandon her just like that?”

“Of course not,” he snapped, his consideration for you now forgotten in the face of what you’d said. “How the fuck could you even think I would do something like that? Haven’t I been here through everything like I fucking said I would be?”

“Yes, but I’ve been doing everything!” The words burst out of you. “At first, you didn’t want to feed her, burp her, bathe her — any of it! And I did it all! Why? Because that was supposed to be the woman’s job you’d said!”

Ben could feel his temper flaring at you bringing that up. You were also intimating that he didn’t do anything for your daughter. Were you blind to all of the effort he had put in to help you raise Ellie since that fight you’d had a couple of weeks after she’d been born? Didn’t you realize that most mornings you woke up well rested was because he’d gotten up with the baby in the middle of the night so you wouldn’t have to? And you were still holding that shit over his head? What the fuck was wrong with you? “That was the way it was back then,” he growled out. “I told you that! And I’ve been doing all of that shit you just mentioned since then! So I didn’t change one shitty diaper today! I said I was sorry! When are you going to fucking let it go?”

Instead of responding, you exploded into more sobs and shame churned in his gut. He really fucking hated seeing either of his girls cry. It made him want to beat the ever loving shit out of some son of a bitch. Even if he happened to be said son of a bitch sometimes.

“Christ,” he muttered. “C’mere.” He pulled you to him and you held onto him tightly, crying into his neck. His hand slid down your back in a tender caress and he pressed his lips to your hair. “I’m sorry,” he whispered to you.

He kept you in his arms, hoisted you up so you could wrap your legs around his waist, and let you get it all out. He even shut the water off, knowing the temperature had vastly cooled in the amount of time he’d been in there with you so far. He vaguely recalled his plan from earlier to join you, apologize for what he’d said during your argument, and begin making up with you. That obviously had gone to shit; there would be no making up happening now, that was for sure. And if anything would get his dick to go soft with you naked against him, it was the sound of you crying.

Once your sobs quieted down and turned into ragged inhales and a few sniffles here and there, he moved your hair out of the way so he could see you. “Better?”

You nodded, sniffling as you looked up at him. “Yeah.”

“Okay, let’s get you out of this tub then and get you dried off.” He placed a kiss on your forehead and went to open the shower curtain.

“Ben?”

He froze and turned to look at you.

You lifted your head, letting out another sniffle. “I’m sorry, too.” Before he could say anything, you continued. “I know you’ve been trying and you’ve been doing everything I asked you to with Ellie. I just…I freaked out about the diaper thing.” You wiped at your face. “Because it just brought back that worry, that fear I have of what would happen to her if I wasn’t here.” Your voice wobbled slightly but you forged ahead anyway. “You know, I wasn’t scared like this when I was being hunted down. I mean, I was, but not like this. Back then, I only had myself to worry about. And then when I got pregnant, sure, I was a little more scared but I also knew you’d keep us safe.” You took another ragged breath in. “But ever since she’s been born, I have been absolutely terrified. That something might happen to her, to me…to her if something does happen to me. I’m so fucking scared, Ben.” Your voice broke then, prompting fresh tears to roll down your cheeks.

Ben had been insulted before, almost as if you hadn’t believed in him or his ability to keep either of you safe, but now as he listened to your heartfelt explanation, he realized it wasn’t really about any of that. It didn’t really have anything to do with him, except that you wanted him to be ready to care for your daughter if something ever happened to you. That unpleasant tug inside his gut happened once more when you finally confessed just how scared you were. He thought back over the last few months since Ellie had been born. Your push for him to be more involved; your fighting with him over his antiquated mindset as you’d called it over his ideas of what fatherhood entailed; your rushing him during your sexual escapades the few times he’d managed to get you away from the house while Elena watched the baby no matter how much it pissed him off that he couldn’t take his time with you like he wanted; your insistence that he watch Ellie while you go to lunch with your friend; your anger today at his refusal to deal with the shitty diaper situation — all of it suddenly clicked into place for him and made sense. Fuck, he didn’t think it was possible for him to feel any worse. He had completely failed you on all fronts. He had been the blind one; he’d never seen what was going on with you when it was right in front of him this whole time. Christ on a cross.

He gripped your chin gently. “Look at me.” You reluctantly met his gaze, yours glistening with fresh tears, and he could see the fear there plain as day. Fuck, how had he missed it all of this time? But instead of focusing on that, he sought to reassure you. “You and Ellie are safe. Nothing is going to happen. I would never let anyone hurt you. Either of you. I love you both too fucking much.” He grazed the pad of his thumb over your cheek to catch a stray tear that had escaped at his words. “And if it’s something that’s going to make you feel better, then let’s sit down and make a plan in case anything were to happen to you. Or even if I bit it. I want both of my girls to be taken care of, even if I can’t be here to do it myself.” You gave him a tearful smile. “So, let’s do that and kick this fear in its fucking ass. Sound good, doll?”

You nodded and leaned in, kissing him and making him smile. He’d been able to make you feel better after all and he felt damn proud of himself for being able to do so. “I love you,” you whispered.

He fucking loved hearing those three words from you every single time you said them; he knew you fucking meant it. And so did he. “I love you, too, baby.” When you beamed at him, another tugging sensation happened in his chest but this time, it was a far more pleasant one. He pecked your lips and opened the curtain. “Alright, let’s get you out of here.”

Before he could take a step out of the tub, you reached up and yanked the curtain closed, making his brows furrow. Your smile suddenly transformed into a devilish smirk. Immediately, he could feel his dick hardening again. He knew what that smirk meant. “We didn’t make up yet,” you murmured, starting to rub your body against his. “And we always make up after we fight.”

Ben felt the stiff peaks of your nipples gliding across his skin and his mouth practically watered at the thought of sucking on them while he rammed into you repeatedly. Fuck, he loved your tits. There had been a time after Ellie was born where you’d pushed his head away anytime he tried to get his mouth on them while he was fucking you, complaining that they were too sensitive due to all of the feedings. But recently, he’d been able to start that up again without causing you discomfort and once, he had even gotten a tiny amount of milk squirted into his mouth by accident. It had been surprising for him, embarrassing for you, but it had turned out to be a major turn on. He found he didn’t mind the taste and the idea of him drinking you down, you shooting something into his mouth for once and him needing to be the one to swallow, that made him hornier than he’d ever been in his life. He’d fucked a lot of women in his time, sometimes high, sometimes sober; he’d done things that made most people blush to hear about or uncomfortable to imagine, some things which you flat out refused to do. He’d founded Herogasm and had marathon fucks that were legendary. He’d hosted orgies where he would be the only one left standing, having never tired out and still raring to go when everyone else was down for the count. And yet, when you’d unintentionally squirted the smallest bit of milk into his mouth, his dick had gotten so hard, he was shocked it hadn’t exploded right there. Well…it did, but not the way he’d originally been thinking. He’d greedily swallowed you down and kept sucking, even through the first load of cum he’d shot into you in reaction to that fucking hot as hell moment. From that point on, while he knew your breastmilk was Ellie’s main food source and he loved that, his daughter had to learn to fucking share.

That was another reason why he had such a love/hate relationship with the breast pump machine you had. When he would watch the milk fill the bottle, he didn’t know whether to cry, jerk off, fuck you, or just watch. Sometimes he even wished you’d get rid of the contraption and just let him help you; it could be a rewarding experience for you both while you made sure Ellie had plenty to eat.

Your smirk grew, almost as if you knew where his thoughts had gone, and you ghosted your lips over his. “Ben,” you called to him in a teasing singsong voice. “I said, we always make up after fighting.”

He could feel something wet moving against his abdomen as you attempted to roll your hips, knowing it had nothing to do with your recent shower, and he ground out, “Yeah, we fucking do” before he slammed his mouth against yours in a bruising kiss that was all tongue and teeth. He turned around and carefully pushed you up against the tiled wall, making sure not to break it or you. It wasn’t long before he was inside you, his hips pushing into you at a steady pace, his mouth suckling at you and your fingers in his hair, tugging roughly, as you muffled your moans with your other hand. Neither of you had forgotten that Elena was within earshot; Ben just didn’t give a fuck. He snatched your hand away from your mouth, gruffed out a command of “Let me fucking hear you”, and he didn’t give two shits who heard the fucking hot soundtrack of your making up. Instead, as you cried out your pleasure for the world to hear, he went back to your incredible rack, focusing on filling up on you while he worked towards filling you up. The thought of any fear or resentment from your earlier argument was long gone as you both chased your highs at lightning speed. The only words said between you were dirty or full of love. And even when you both had been forced to take a mostly cold shower afterwards to clean up once you both had caught your breath, only smiles, tender touches, and kisses had been exchanged along with a few laughs, both of you completely sated. Well, you were; Ben would never get enough of you and he planned to try to fuck you again later after the baby had fallen asleep.

But as for right now, seeing the bright smile on your face as he carefully wrapped a towel around you, the weight visibly lighter on your shoulders since you confessed your fears to him, he was determined to do whatever it took to not only make you feel safe but also to keep you feeling this way and being this happy.

When you’d laughed at something he’d said, darted forward to kiss him, and wrapped your arms around his neck, his embrace tightened around you and he kissed the juncture in between your neck and shoulder, making you that silent promise. Whatever it took to make you feel safe again, he’d do it.

Elena glanced up to see you and Ben stepping into the living room, both dressed and looking refreshed. You had been missing in action for at least an hour and forty-five minutes. Elena already had an idea what you two had been doing considering everything she’d heard. Maggie had even heard when she called to check in and see when Elena would be returning home, beyond disgusted at the sounds Soldier Boy was making as he railed you in the shower. She’d told Elena to call her when she was done babysitting so the archaic asshole could get laid and promptly hung up. But even if Elena hadn’t heard what you’d been up to, she would have immediately known after seeing you both. Ben’s hair was still damp and yours was freshly blown out. Both of you were touching, unable to keep your hands off of each other and sporting matching grins, looking like practical newlyweds. Ben’s hand moved to the small of your back and both of you suddenly smiled wide upon seeing your daughter.

“Thank you for watching her and for waiting.” Your cheeks turned a shade of pink but you held out your arms. Elena was only too happy to hand you your baby back. “There she is,” you cooed, pressing a loud kiss to Ellie’s cheek. “Were you a good girl for your Aunt Elena?”

“She was a very good girl,” Elena confirmed, watching as Ben strode over and stopped next to you, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you against him, his eyes centered on both of his girls with an affectionate smile to match. Sometimes Maggie still had trouble believing it, that Soldier Boy had been domesticated as she put it, but Elena never doubted how important you and Ellie were to him. She could see it every time he looked at you, at your little girl, and she actually thought it was beyond sweet. She had even said as much to which Maggie had rolled her eyes, muttered “Whatever, I’m going to vomit”, and walked away from the door while Elena waited to greet the three of you after she had extended a dinner invitation to your family one night. As expected Ben and Maggie didn’t get along too well, especially given their history, but the former seemed to be okay with Elena and she was okay with him because she knew how much he meant to you. And Maggie didn’t seem to mind you all that much, either. So you all somehow made the nearby neighbor thing work; for yours, Elena’s, and Ellie’s sakes if for nothing else.

“She did get a little fussy, though, so I fed her one of the bottles you had in the fridge.”

You nodded and pressed a kiss to the baby’s forehead, briefly glancing at the clock on the mantle. “It’s about that time. Thank you so much for doing that. I’m sorry that we missed lunch.” You blushed once more when Ben let out a quiet chuckle.

“No problem,” Elena dismissed with a smile and a wave of her hand. “I’m glad everything seems to be okay. Ben looked a little worried when I got here.”

You glanced up at him, your brows arching in surprise. Ben shrugged, seeming unbothered at this observation.

“We can maybe shoot for next week if you’re game,” Elena offered.

You went to answer when Ben cut you off. “Actually, why don’t you guys still go and grab a late lunch or something? Elena’s already here and you both are dressed to the nines.”

Your eyes widened when you looked over at your husband, worry lining your expression for a moment. “No, that’s—it’s too late. By the time we’d get home, it would probably be dinner time.” You let out a nervous sounding laugh. “Besides, Ellie’s going to need to feed before then and I—”

“You pumped earlier, right? I can feed her.”

You seemed unsure, biting your lip. “I did, but I’m not sure—”

Ben released you and held out his hands, smiling reassuringly at you. “It’s settled. You go. Ellie and I have got this. Don’t we, Princess?” The baby had her fingers in her mouth, drooling everywhere. Elena saw Ben shake his head, seeming amused.

You glanced down at your daughter, the happiness from before replaced by uncertainty. Elena knew you struggled to leave Ellie the first few times she’d babysat for you both to have some time to yourselves. It wasn’t surprising; you were a new mother after all. But this time, you seemed even more reluctant than usual.

“Hey,” Ben softly called to you, prompting you to meet his gaze. “Remember what we talked about. We’re going to be fine. I’ve got her.”

It was moments like this that convinced Elena of your importance to him. If Maggie ever witnessed them, she was sure her girlfriend would reluctantly agree. Never had Elena ever heard him speak that gently to anyone, even his own daughter. Not when she and Maggie were in earshot anyway.

Ben gave you a meaningful look and after glancing down at Ellie one more time, you eventually handed your daughter over to her father. “There’s my girl.” He leaned down to kiss the baby’s forehead.

You watched, anxiety still apparent in your expression.“Ben, are you su—”

He immediately darted forward to kiss you, cutting you off. Elena had the grace to look away and give you two a moment.

“We’ll be fine,” she heard Ben murmur to you. “I’ve got this. I promise, baby. Go have your girl time and then come home. We’ll be here when you get back.”

“You’re absolutely sure?” You checked one last time.

“Of course I fucking am.”

“Language,” you chided.

Elena glanced over and found Ben smirking down at you, leaning closer. “You didn’t seem to mind my language earlier.” As expected, your cheeks reddened and he barked out a laugh, kissing one of them. “Alright, go have fun and we’ll see you later.” Then he leaned in to whisper something to you that couldn’t be heard and your jaw dropped, gently swatting at his hip since he was holding Ellie in both arms. He laughed and moved away, his gaze a little darker than before as it stayed fixed on you.

You kissed Ellie’s head and stroked her cheek, smiling. “I’ll see you soon, sweetheart. Be good for your daddy, okay? I love you.” Ellie gurgled and you smiled wider, leaning up to kiss Ben goodbye who immediately deepened it.

Elena was on the verge of looking away again when you pulled back, panting, and glared up at the smirking man in front of you. “You know, for someone who’s trying to get me to leave, you’re doing a miserable job.”

“Just giving you a little preview for later.” The stare between you two was so intense that it felt as if any unfortunate bystanders would suddenly burst into flames just from being too close. This time, Elena was the one nearly blushing. She would have never believed you two had just been having sex if she hadn’t heard it for herself. You both looked hungry and not for any late lunch.

You leaned in, as if to kiss him again, when you reached up and planted a kiss on his brow instead, smirking as you backed away. “Until then, Benjamin,” you snarked, turning to leave. “Love you.” You let out a yelp a moment later when Ben swatted your ass with a free hand as you passed.

You shot another glare at him and he simply smirked. “Love you, too, doll.”

Elena gently pulled you towards the door, thinking if she didn’t get you out of the house soon, you definitely weren’t going to leave at all. Or more like Soldier Boy wasn’t going to let you leave. Not with the way his eyes were unashamedly glued to your ass.

You waved one last time in your family’s direction. “Bye, Ellie. See you soon, babygirl.”

Ben picked up Ellie’s little hand and simulated a wave, making you smile.

Once Elena had you in the car and backed out of your driveway, she could see the earlier uncertainty returning. “So, what’s going on? First, Ben looked worried and now you. Something I should know about?”

You bit your lip and seemed to be mulling over whether to tell her or not. Elena gave you a moment to yourself to decide. Eventually you turned to look at her and sighed. “Okay.” You then proceeded to fill Elena in on everything you’d been feeling since your daughter had been born, everything you’d just told Ben.

Ben watched as you and Elena got into the car and left. He knew you would be worried but he was determined not to give you any reason to be. He meant it when he told you he had this. He wanted you to know that he could look after Ellie the way she needed looking after, which is why he insisted that you still go out to eat with Elena. He was going to make damn sure he passed this test and he was keeping his promise to you, that he would make you feel safe again. And if that meant he had to play Mr. Mom and change a few shitty diapers while you were gone, then so be it.

Once the car disappeared, he let out a sigh and turned to look down at his daughter. She was staring up at him with those beautiful eyes that reminded him so often of his mother’s, though absent of any of the heartbreak she had endured in her life with his father. That was why when you asked about possible names for your daughter after you’d given birth, he’d mentioned Eleanor to bestow upon her. You’d loved it, especially after Ben had explained the significance of the name to you, and so your daughter was named after her grandmother, though you both had ended up calling her Ellie for short most of the time.

He gave his little girl a smile. “We’ve got the place to ourselves, kiddo. We can do whatever we want. What does my princess want to do, hmm?”

Ellie gurgled and he nodded as if he understood.

“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking. Let your old man show you his movies so you can see when he was a star. Good thinking, babygirl.” He chuckled when she gurgled again and turned to head into the living room.

Just then, he heard the sounds he had been hoping like hell that he wouldn’t hear until you were back. Ellie began to grunt, a few short farts sounded, and an almost undetectable thud was heard as shit landed in her diaper. Sure enough, a moment later, the smell wafted up and smacked him in the face. The smell was beyond terrible, something you had told him previously couldn’t be the case since it was known that the poop of breastfed babies didn’t smell as bad as other poop. He’d looked at you then with disbelief; how the hell did you not smell it when you were wiping the kid’s ass? Then again, thanks to his super-powered nose, you wouldn’t detect what he would. Like right now. It was fucking awful, like sour milk mixed with shit. Christ.

“Ugh.” He extended his arms and held Ellie out, away from him. He should’ve known this would fucking happen. It was just his luck. “You know, kid, for such a small thing, you sure shit a lot.” Ellie continued to make happy noises as if she hadn’t just taken a massive shit that was rapidly stinking up the room. Ben pulled her closer, his face screwed up in disgust as the smell got closer, too. “You are way too happy for someone who just shit their pants for the second time today.”

He glanced around, almost as if you would somehow come flying around the corner to help, or Queen Lesbo might show up out of the blue or something. Nope, this was all on him. He remembered your words from earlier, how he needed to know how to care for Ellie which included shitty diaper changes, and he let out a huge defeated sigh. “Fuck.”

Ben cradled Ellie in the crook of his arm, relieved there were no damp spots on her back this time, and turned to make his way to her nursery. “You know something, kid, if the day should ever come that I’m in diapers, you better fucking change ‘em without any complaints. I don’t want to hear a damn word out of you then, got it?”

Ellie made more happy noises and he rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah.” A small smile slipped onto his face and he lifted her up to his shoulder, kissing her cheek. “You’re lucky Daddy loves you, Princess.”

Almost as if she’d understood his words, she gave him a wide toothless smile, drooling onto his shirt. Instead of being disgusted, he chuckled and continued his trek. She’d unknowingly just given him a perfect excuse to change when you got home and entice you to get another shower in later. Thinking along that same line, feeling proud that this was now something he could do for you and for his daughter, something that would help you to feel better overall…well, he found now that he didn’t mind the idea of any shitty diaper changes all that much.

A/N: Please let me know what you think. 😊

dividers by @firefly-graphics

#soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy x you #soldier boy x y/n #soldier boy #soldier boy fanfiction #the boys fanfiction #the boys fandom #prompt response

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mushroomnoodles · 2 days

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I think your content is wonderful! It's so wholesome, funny and angsty all at once in the best ways possible. Just wanted to spread some nice love in my ask! ^_^

Does Morrigan talk to any of their little siblings when they're in the womb? For example telling them about some butterflies they saw or just reminding them that they have the most radical big sibs (them and Marcy) ever. I'm not sure how you interpret this, but I like to imagine Morrigan as a very loving big-brother in the universes where he has little siblings. :D

thank you nonnie <3 this is a longer post about morri being a big sibling in multiple aus.

tw/cw for sfw and non kink mpreg

morri talks a LOT to their siblings in the womb, especially golbaby morris, who remember how painfully boring it was sometimes to hear everyone talking around them and not being able to join in. (wizardbetty's morri has... no concept of normal babies not having their level of consciousness.) different morris have different flavors of big-sibling energy.

golbaby morris that get a sibling early on (wizardbetty) are initially concerned and a bit jealous, especially when simon can't carry them anymore and his belly gets in the way of them sitting on his lap. (they threw a little fit when simon first told them he couldn't carry them anymore until after the baby came) with ophelia especially (simon was always talking about how she would never stop moving) lil' morri would put their hands on his tummy and be like "not so hard, baby" because they remember simon telling them that when they would kick him. (side note, simon loves his golbspawn so much even if they bite him)

they're enamored by their tiny baby siblings, think they're stupid (wdym they don't have object permanence) and tries hard to "teach" literal 6 month olds how to read. gets cranky and wants attention when they feel their sibling is getting too much, but also gets fiercely protective of their "dummy" siblings, trying to prevent them from doing dumb things from experience "don't eat that stick, becca, it tastes like butt". as a teen they tend to be a little bit of a menace to their little siblings (who isn't?) but would still kill and die for them.

golbaby morris that get a sibling later on (plainvanilla) are absolutely STOKED to have a sibling, morrigan has always wanted one. much like early sibling morris, they make a point to talk to their unborn siblings often because of their own experience, but with a lot of added enthusiasm. entity pregnancies take longer than human ones, so they'd also be impatient ("girl, you are taking fivever. come out already") they also give me the vibe to poke their siblings back when they kick, partially to bug them but also to interact with them.

older morri's much more of a protective sibling than their younger variants, but with fellow golbspawn siblings morri at least is able to better relate to their baby sisters and brother. they are still the type to teach a 6 month old to read.

normal morris that get a sibling early on (vamparents, candyworld) are just 4 years old when they get their first sibling, and are very confused by their dad's bump (and extremely curious). these morris probably talk the least to their unborn siblings, but still do in part because of their parent's encouragement, mostly just "hi baby" or telling them about what they had for dinner. (vamp morri in particular was sooo excited to see ophelia, simon shared the enthusiasm to meet her but mostly because she was treating him like a punching bag)

(it took sour taffy five months, but they finally figured out what baby meant and where it was!)

vamp morri, when they're older, is much more laidback and totally does their siblings' homework for them, while sour taffy is more likely to just talk their ears off and braid their hair.

#a #i have a mproblem #cw mpreg #tw mpreg #mpreg #simon petrikov mpreg #golbaby #infoposting :d #wizardbetty #candyworld #vamparents

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vulpixisananimal · 1 day

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"So. . ."

(You were lying down on a couch. You were doing woodcarving; it was theraputic. Mirabelle had just come over from cleaning up and sat at the other end of the couch.)

"Hello Mirabelle, got any questions for your friendly star~"

(She tittered at that.) "Hehe, maybe a few. Even if it, might not matter much."

"Talking is still nice, ask away."

"Well. . ." (She thought for a second.) "Well are you, doing ok?"

"???" (That took you by surprise. You were expecting something about how the loops worked, or where they came from.) ". . . I'm, well I'm doing great! We've only been doing this for a few loops and that's practicaly No time at all~"

"W-well, I suppose, but I meant more in general."

(You paused carving.) "Hmm?"

"Well, Siffrin said you showed up soon after we beat the King. And, well, I was wondering, has it been alright? I-I mean, sharing a body with Sif and all. A-and like, since we didn't know you were around did we do something that made you-"

"Oh hush Mirabelle." (You twirl your dagger casually.) "It was a lovely time in Bambouche, really! The beach was just so nice, it was a good way to meet Nille too! No need to explain the whole being a star thing~"

"I guess so. . ."

"I will say, as much as I like Stardust," (You lower your tone to a dramatic one.) "Sharing a head with them is agony sometimes."

(She giggles again.) "Is it really that hard? Or. ."

"It's complicated. So, so complicated." (You thougt for a moment.) "Talking to eachother is like. . . Almost like someone else is having thoughts in your own head. And you have thoughts back. It can be hard to tell whos thoughts are whos, but you can 'talk' very fast."

"Because you're just thinking to eachother?"

"In a way~" (You tap your chin with your knife.) "It's hard to explain, but I might to better a better job next time, tee hee~"

(Another giggle.) "It makes some sense, I think."

"From what I've read it's a very complex disorder." (Odiles voice. You turn, she was finding a place to sit down.) "Each person experiences it differently too."

"Complex doesn't even start to describe it. . ." (You decide to just put away your carving.) "Headaches are almost constant."

"With how Siffrin thinks? Well I wouldn't wish that on anyone."

"Oh the burdens we must bare."

"What burdens are we bareing today?" (It was Isabeau walking in now.)

"The big furry types of course~"

"Ha! Haha!"

"Well you two have something in common."

"Tee hee~"

(You sat up and made room or Isabeau on the couch. He sat down and talked.) "Bonnie and Nille are just putting some leftovers away." (He looked over at Mirabelle.) "You're sure there's no bruising? Bonnie still has a headache."

(. . .)

"I'm positive, I double and tripple checked."

(For the love of Stars will you just tell me what I missed already?!? CLEARLY something happened you're not telling me.)

(I will not tell you.)

(You are infuriating.)

"Kid probably just needs a lie down." (Isa comments.)

"Once this is over we all do." (You say, you still felt exhausted from all this time craft. Will you at least tell me when we're out of this blinding loop?)

(I can agree to that.)

"Speaking of such. Would you mind if we try talking to Stardust now?" (Odile asked.)

(You nod.) "If ever there was a time for it~"

". . . So how do we do this?" (Asked Mirabelle.)

"Well, first I'll get Siffrin back here. It might get a bit confusing for us but don't worry about that~" (You thought for a moment.) "Although, Isabeau, if that mind craft is still afflicting Siffrin, could you try making sure he doesn't do anything stupid?"

"Uh, alright! I think I can do that."

"I'd like to ask Siffrin the questions if that's alright." (Odile had gotten up from her seat and walked over.)

"Of course, and Mirabelle if you could. . ."

"Morale support?" (She suggested.)

"Morale support!"

"Perfect, moral support it is."

(Alright. . . Siffrin. . .)

(You breath in, and out. Stardust, where just where are you Stardust. You were forced out quite abruptly, but you could come back with. . . The thoughts of Isabeau? No no, something bad maybe? Probaly not. What about his favorite foods? Oh well they did love that Pan Au Chocolate-)

(Huh?)

(You feel a bit dizzy. There you are Stardust~)

(Loop? What happened. I was forced out of front by Mal du Pays, I didn't remember much afterwards. You're here because they want to ask you a few questions. Yes? Why though?)

(They're worried about you. Something happened. So if you don't mind. . .)

(You blink a few times, you had a mild headache but it cleared fast.) "Uh. . ."

"Siffrin?" (Huh? Or Mirabelle was at your side. Isabeau and Odile too.)

(You rub your head.) "Hi uh. . . What happened?"

(Mirabelle glanced over to Odile, who started talking.) "Are you feeling alright, Siffrin?"

"Dazed, headache, confused. Did something happen??"

"I'm getting to that." (Odile continued.) "Do you remember what happened?"

"Uhm. . . I was talking to Ramos? Yeah, yeah Ramos came over to see Isabeau."

(You glance between the three of them. Loop what's going on?)

(Mental check in, Stardust.)

"And what did you talk about."

"It was. . . Right! We were chatting about our adventures, how we met Isabeau, and uh. . ."

(You glance at Isa as Odile continues.) "What else?"

"Well, well, they were curious if Isabeau mentioned them at all." (Why was it so hard to remember?)

"And you said. . ."

(You smiled.) "I said 'of course he did!'"

(. . .Stars.)

(Huh? Did you say something wrong? They all looked worried. Isabeau spoke up.) "Are. . . Are you sure Sif?"

"Positive, right?" (You think hard.) "Because. . . Because you talked about them helping you for the Defenders exams?"

(Isabeau looked. . . Sad? What was going on?!?)

"That, didn't happen, Siffrin." (Odile said.) "I'm, sorry but that's not true."

"Huh?!?"

(You could feel your breathing quicken. What do they mean??? Ramos was, was Isabeaus best friend, right? Hadn't you been excited to see them?!? That's why you came here in the first place right???)

(You have a headache. What was going on?!? No, no Ramos was your friend right?)

"Siffrin?" (You turn to Isabeau, he was holding out a hand. You grab it and squeeze. He doesn't even flinch.) "It's. . . Well, just take a breath first, ok? With me? Just like you showed us, right?"

(Right, right, just breathe. In. . . . and Out. . .)

(Feeling better, Stardust?)

(No, yes, maybe. Just. I'm just confused.) "Alright, alright, please tell me what happened, please."

"Siffrin, well, Ramos isn't really, a good person right now, I think." (You turn to Mirabelle as she continues.) "They, well, Loop told us that they've been effecting people with Mind Craft. You included."

(??????????)

(It's a craft type that effects ones memories, ones mind. Your perception of Ramos has been altered, Stardust.)

(Odile talking now.) "It should be reversable, but from what I know it might be more difficult as it may be powered by a wish. If that's the case it could. . ."

"It would just take a while!" (Mira jumps in.) "But! The good news is Loop isn't effected?"

(Your breathing is getting heavy again. What? But, Ramos was a big figure in Isabeaus life, right? There where all those stories! Like, like.)

(You cannot remember.)

(It's a trick, Stardust~ A nasty one at that.)

(You lean into Isabeau, you feel lightheaded.) "A-are you sure? I, I mean. . ." (It. . . It was really hard to believe. You had this feeling, this instinct, that Ramos was a friend, the best, the. . .)

"Sorry Sif." (Isa gently put a hand on your head. You didnt flinch.) "We'll get this figured out, ok?"

". . . Promise?"

"I promise!"

"Of course I promise!" (Mirabelle chimed in.)

"I don't want to see what happens when your memory gets worse. I promise we'll figure it out." (Odile adds.)

(You nod. And sigh.) ". . . Thank you."

(Your head hurts. Loop, can you, can you please just deal with this?)

(Of course Stardust~ It might be better since-)

(Because Ramos might still be able to effect me. Yeah. I wouldn't want to hurt anyone.)

(You breathe in, and out. And in the future, you can take over in a pinch if needed, ok?)

(Same back to you. stars, even for Mal too. Just in case.)

(Thank you.)

(. . . . .)

[You got the Memory of Switching! When equipped, this will make it easier for you to switch out with your headmates, even durring battle!]

(You pause a second before moving. Isabeau is comfortable, he's got a hand on your head. No need to pull away immediatly.)

(Is now really the time?)

(Hush you. Stardust's gone now, let me have this.)

(You took one more second before getting up and stretching.) "Well! That was quite enlightening~"

"Loop?"

"Yes yes, Stardust decided to go for now, didn't trust themself to act rational."

"Aww. . ." (Isabeau awkwardly rubbed his side.) "I can't imagine how he must be feeling."

"Now where have I heared that before." (Odile adds, going back to her own seat.)

"We miss anything?" (It was Nille, she and Bonnie where walking in.)

"Just checked in on Siffrin." (Odile sighs.) "Unfortunatly, the mind craft stuck."

"Crab" (Nille sat down on the ground.)

"Stupid Crabbing mind crab" (Bonnie stormed over to a chair and sat down.)

"Language."

(You laugh.) "You'll never get Bonbon to stop swearing at this rate."

"Oh I will!" (She replied, rolling her eyes.)

"Nuh uh!" (Bonnie stuck out their tongue.)

"Yuh huh!"

"Nuh uh!!!"

"Yuh huh or you a stupid face."

"YOU'RE a stupid face!"

"Gasp!! Bonnie! How could you! Your own Sister!"

(You fail to hold in your laughter.)

(Why couldn't ever day be this simple.)

#mehehoe #isat #isat spoilers #isat siffrin #isat loop #isat bonnie #isat nille #isat mirabelle #isat isabeau #isat odile #isat art #isat fanart #in stars and time #siffrin system au #sifstem #isat au

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theofficialpresidentofmars · 3 days

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my Roman Empire is how in Hamlet, we are presented with four characters who were each at one point the person/people Hamlet held most dear, and one of them watches as Hamlet's actions lead the other three to suffer, lose their minds, and/or die.

Horatio is Hamlet's closest friend over the course of the play, the one he comes to again and again, refers to as being in his 'heart of hearts', and who keeps him stable and alive for at least the most part. We follow these two the most explicitly throughout the text.

Ophelia is Hamlet's lover, and their relationship can be read many ways, ranging from never-really-loved-the-other to they-did-it-numerous-times-and-in-fact-she-was-pregnant-(possibly)-(also)-(aborted) but for the sake of this post I'm going to go the middle ground and say they had a wholesome and happy relationship before Hamlet's dad died and he got all sad. Doubt the stars are fire, but never doubt I love.

Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Hamlet's childhood friends, and Gertrude remembers them as being so loved by him that 'two men there are not living to whom he more adheres'. It's clear that these three were very close during some stage of his life, likely his childhood and potentially teens. The point is, they meant the most to him at some point in his life.

But again, by the time the acts of Hamlet come to pass, Hamlet has chosen Horatio to be his sole compatriot. Whether or not this is prior to his actual arrival in Elsinore is largely irrelevant- Hamlet makes sure he spends a lot of the first half of the play flustered in the face of a prince who won't stop finding nice things to say about him. Hamlet butters him up with honeyed words, and tells him the truth about everything, or what he thinks, anyway.

Horatio is touched but one specific line does stick out to him a bit- when Hamlet assured him it was not an attempt at flattery, and went on to clarify that he feels free to love Horatio as Horatio doesn't want anything from him, and doesn't have anything to hide. If what the ghost said about Claudius were true, it makes sense for Hamlet to be paranoid and hold others at a distance, but Horatio can't help but think about the underlying implication that if Hamlet had any reason to be suspicious of Horatio, he'd be just as cold to him as everyone else. Which, again, makes sense, but something about it rubs him a strange way.

Horatio tries to relate his experiences with the others he knows were close to Hamlet. He doesn't know much about Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, but Hamlet has mentioned suspicion of them, but despite that, seems to have been cordial enough. As for Ophelia... She seems to have seen the worst of his feigned madness, so he doesn't really know about her. He also heard something about an argument, but he doesn't know to what extent.

After the play, and an odd interaction with R&G, Hamlet heads upstairs to speak to his mother and Horatio thinks about it some more.

He words the question properly to himself: would Hamlet still love me if I were in their position? And he doubts for a moment, but then he remembers what Hamlet told him, the look in his eyes as he proclaimed his sincerity, and even the rare laughter he'd indulged in after the play, in only his presence, and Hamlet has convinced him.

Up until he hears the news of Polonius's murder. And until he hears the recount of Claudius, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern's intervention with the seemingly mad prince, and he begins to doubt him.

And when he's left to take care of Ophelia, driven mad by the death of her father and the wrath of her lover, and in her delirium she tells him things, tells him everything, and there's a strange sense of familiarity in her words. She shows him her letters, throwing them at him and laughing, tears running from her eyes, and Horatio recognises the poetic style, the sweet wording that always seems to know how to strike your heart closest, and he realises that she had once been where he had, received Hamlet's love in the same way. And it's strange, in a way he's not sure what to do with.

His fear is alleviated slightly when Hamlet sends him a letter, and he seems back to his usual sense of self, the one Horatio knows. Horatio is glad for the normalcy, and it does a part to clear his worry that he had been deceived in any nature, after his time with Ophelia.

Even further when he finally returns to Denmark, and while the two talk, they stumble upon Ophelia's funeral, and Hamlet takes no time to jump into her grave and proclaim his grief loudly. Horatio feels a bit sick at feeling any sort of relief at this, but the proof that Hamlet may have truly loved her and hadn't intended for this to happen does something to quell the fear again.

That is, until Hamlet recounts his journey.

And with a strange sort of expression that looks sort of like... pride, recounts how he sent Rosencrantz and Guildenstern to their deaths.

Horatio is a little shocked by this, as he can't recall the two having done anything particularly wrong, and this was clearly not accidental. Hamlet brushes him off by saying the two knew what they were getting into, showing strangely little remorse.

Horatio thinks, about how they were his childhood friends, and then again about Ophelia, and then again about his earlier question.

would Hamlet still love me if I were in their position?

And he realises, in a way that makes him nauseous, that the answer is no. And not only that, but for all Hamlet's laughter and flattering words, it wouldn't have saved him.

But still, he doesn't leave his side. Hamlet loves him now, and he's the lucky one. Nothing can be done anymore, and he feels they draw close to the end.

And he does still love him. And Hamlet loves him back.

Horatio reaches for the poisoned cup as Hamlet dies. It feels right that it should end this way, and he doesn't really want to go on.

But Hamlet wrestles the cup out of his hand with an intensity that catches him off guard, begging him to stay alive, to tell his story

and so he does, cradling the prince as he slips into a deeper dream.

Sometime after, Horatio will again think about it all. The four of them. Three dead by his hand, one alive by it.

He wonders.

Did Hamlet ever think about it too? About how his actions hurt the ones closest to him, and in his final moments, chose to break the pattern and save the only life he could?

Or did Hamlet only save him because he still loved him? Not out of guilt, or reflection on his previous actions necessarily, but because Horatio still hadn't done him wrong?

#hamlet #shakespeare #hamletposting #ophelia #hamratio #opheliet #rosencrantz and guildenstern

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lyranova · 3 days

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Nozel x reader fashion au where reader is a fashion designer and maybe nebras friend? And nebra calls reader to make a suit for nozel and that's how they met? You can continue the story with creative liberties❤️❤️

Oh and congratulations on 900 followers!!!

Hiya anon, thank you so much! I apologize for the wait, I did incorporate the first half of your request, but I decided to have Nozel and the reader already in a relationship since I couldn’t quite figure out a good scenario for them to meet in with the suit 😅. But I still hope you enjoy~!

Word Count: 1,695

Warnings: None

————

“ Listen; I have a big favor to ask you-!”

“ No.”

“ Oh come on just hear me out!” Nebra Silva groaned on the other end of the phone, making you sigh and shake your head even though she couldn’t see it.

There were two types of favors Nebra would ask of you; one was that you design a custom outfit for her at a discount, and the second was that you design an outfit for a friend of hers for free.

Which one will it be today, you wondered.

“ Fine, I’ll hear you out,” You muttered as you quietly set your pen down. You could hear Nebra excitedly clap her hands on the other side of the phone, which made you smile a bit.

“ Alright! So, I want you to make a suit for my brother, Nozel,” Nebra began quickly, and your breath hitched in your throat.

This…was a gift for Nozel?

“ His birthday is coming up and I wanted to get him something special, which is why I called you! You’re one of the best designers in the world, there’s no one else I would trust to make a perfect suit for him!” She told you quickly.

“ So, will you do it? Please?” She begged, and that’s when you knew just how much this meant to her.

Nebra Silva never begged, and she most certainly never said ‘please’.

You sighed and pinched the bridge of your nose.

“ Alright, I’ll make the suit for him,” You said as you picked up your pen again and began to start some preliminary designs. “ I’ll send you some sketches by the end of the week. Oh, and I’m charging you full price since it’s a complete suit.”

“ Thank you~! I’m sure it’ll be perfect, and if it’s not then I just won’t pay you,” Nebra said with a chuckle, but you knew she was completely serious with her words.

You sighed again and shook your head, and just as you were about to hang up she suddenly asked a question that made your heart stop for a moment.

“ Oh, but don’t you need Nozel’s measurements to start sketching?” She asked, her tone curious.

You were quiet for a moment, your brain going a mile a second as you tried to think of what to tell her.

After all, how did one explain to their friend that the reason they weren’t asking for their older brothers measurements was because they already had them due to…reasons?

“ I don’t need his measurements right now; so you can just wait and give them to me later.” You explained quickly, hoping that your friend would accept that and not ask anymore questions.

Nebra hummed curiously for a moment, making your palms sweat and your heart race anxiously.

“ Alright, I’ll try to get Solid to get his measurements tomorrow so I can send them to you,” She said, and you couldn’t help but let out a very quiet sigh of relief.

She bought it…at least for now.

After saying goodbye and making a promise to meet later in the week, you hung up the phone and sighed dramatically before resting your head on your arms.

“ Is something wrong?” A familiar voice asked behind, his tone curious but also laced with concern.

You slowly turned your head to the right and saw Nozel Silva standing there; a towel in his hand as he tried his best to dry his dripping silver locks, his normally braided bangs hanging loosely between his eyes.

Your gaze traveled down to where his usually loose, grey t-shirt now tightly clung to his body; and where his white pajama pants with grey stripes rested loosely around his thin waist.

You groaned as you closed your eyes and moved your head away, how on earth was your boyfriend of over a year able to make even the most casual of clothes look so good?!

“ What’s wrong?” He asked, his tone sounding more concerned as he walked over to you, he set his towel down onto the table before he placed a hand on the back of your chair and the other on your arm.

“ Nothing, it’s just…work,” You muttered, not bothering to lift your head. Nozel’s eyes slowly drifted towards your sketchbook, a critical hum escaping him as he picked up one of the designs.

“ Who is this suit for?” He asked curiously as he raised a thoughtful hand under his chin.

You sighed and raised your head slightly.

“ A very picky client.” You muttered, not daring to give away Nebra’s identity, or who this suit was meant to be for.

He nodded solemnly.

“ I see, I completely understand since I also have my fair share of picky clients,” He admitted with an irritated shake of his head. “ Should I talk to them?”

You shook your head and waved away his concern; the last time he had talked to one of your clients he had completely scared them off!

“ It’s alright, I can handle them on my own,” You told him softly, but your voice was full of gratitude and a gentle smile worked its way onto your face.

Nozel nodded, and you swore you saw a hint of pink on his cheeks.

“ Then, would you like me to help you with these sketches? That way the problem client can’t cause you more problems?” He offered, his eyes still locked on the sketchbook.

You hummed in thought; one the one hand you wanted it to be a surprise, but on the other you thought it might be better that he at least give some input into his own suit.

“ Sure, have a seat and tell me what you think,” You told him, and he nodded before doing as you requested.

You watched Nozel anxiously, looking for any positive or negative expressions; but as always he kept his face neutral, serious, and very focused. He never gave his thoughts away, which both intrigued yet frustrated you.

“ Is this what the client requested?” He asked as he began flipping through the pages, you shook your head.

“ No. This suit is supposed to be a surprise for someone else,” You explained as you fully lifted your head and rested your chin in the palm of your hand. “ I’ll get more information later this week.”

He silently nodded.

The anxiety came crawling back as you waited for his verdict; surely the designs weren’t that bad?

After a moment Nozel set the sketchbook down and looked at you with a serious expression.

“ These all suck,” He told you bluntly, and you swore that you felt an arrow shoot you through the heart.

“ Well that hurts.”

“ Would you rather I lie in order to spare your feelings?” He asked with a raised brow, and you shook your head.

As much as it hurt, you would rather he be honest about his critiques; not only was this suit being made for him, but also because you valued his input as a senior Fashion Designer.

“ No,” You admitted with a sad sigh.

“ Hand me a pencil.” He instructed, and you frowned in confusion but did as he requested.

He took it with a small nod in thanks before he began scribbling and making notes on your sketches.

You watched him silently, the only sound in the room being the scratches of the pencil against the paper. But instead of feeling anxious in this silence like before, you felt this…calmness take over you.

You always loved watching him work; the way his eyes would narrow as he focused, the way a small smile would work its way onto his face as the design came together, and the way his purple eyes would glance up at you to see if you were watching him…

Wait, that wasn’t something he normally did!

You felt your heart skip a beat and your face heat up in embarrassment at having been caught staring. Nozel chuckled softly but didn’t say a word as he went back to your sketchbook.

After another moment he handed it back to you and stood up.

“ I have an early day tomorrow, so I’m going to bed first,” He told you softly as he walked over to stand beside you.

Nozel placed a hand against your cheek, leaned down, and placed a sweet, gentle kiss against your lips. Your heart fluttered in your chest as you kissed him back, your hand reaching up to gently rest against his.

“ Don’t stay up too late.” He told her, his voice quiet but serious, and you smiled a bit.

“ Is that an order?”

“ Yes,” He replied bluntly, making you giggle before leaning forward to place another quick kiss against his lips, making his eyes widen and his face burn.

“ Alright Captain, I’ll follow your order,” You told him playfully, a soft giggle escaping you as you watched your boyfriend roll his eyes at the silly nickname. “ I’ll fix the designs and then I’ll come to bed.”

Nozel nodded before standing up, wishing you a goodnight, and walking towards your shared bedroom.

You let out a quiet, tired sigh and reached out to grab your sketchbook. Better get started on his corrections, you thought.

But much to your surprise, when you opened the sketchbook you didn’t see any corrections; instead you saw tiny little notes.

Positive and encouraging notes…

As your eyes scanned the pages slowly, you felt your heart fill with warmth and love. Nozel wasn’t the best at expressing his emotions and telling people how he felt about them; at least not verbally.

Whether it was through little notes like this or through his clothing designs, he was much better at expressing himself through his art and writing.

And that was one of the many things you loved about him.

You gently closed the sketchbook, stood up, and walked into the bedroom where you slipped quietly into the bed beside Nozel. You wrapped your arms around him, quietly thanked him for the encouragement, and told him that you would make the best suit, most impressive for your client because of it!

He chuckled, rolled over, and sleepily told you how he couldn’t wait to see it as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

—————

Thank you all so much for reading and I hope you all have a good day~!

#asks #anon🌟#black clover #black clover x reader #black clover x y/n #black clover oneshot #black clover fanfiction #nozel x reader #nozel silva x reader #nozel silva #black clover nozel #900 follower event #black clover au

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boldlypurplelight · 3 days

Text

Love is a drug|| JJK|| 9

Pairing: Yandere CEO Jungkook × Female Reader

Genre: Yandere Themes, a bit fluff, angst, betrayal.

Warning: Yandere jjk, use of drugs, stalking, the characters are all fictional.

Summary: After knowing Jungkook's intentions YN was horrified trying to get out of his life as soon as possible. But Jungkook's there, he'll always be there.

CHAPTER 9

Jungkook was shaking - with anger, remorse and disappointment in his eyes.

He saw the lock on your apartment, and talking with the landlord he just you ran away.

Away from him. And would never come back.

He was numb. Standing there and feeling all the pain as he look up onto your window. He could imagine you waving him from the window with soft smile and little blush on your cheeks.

Jungkook smiled and closed his eyes.

"Sir!! What do we do now?" Jimin asked.

Jungkook smirked, he had controlled himself enough. He'll now let his intrusive thoughts take over him.

" We need to find your Madam, Mr. Park! As soon as possible. You know what to do"

Park Jimin knew what to do, he had been bestest friend of Jeon Jungkook since years.

Jungkook gave a last glance at your apartment and stepped towards his car.

If people think he is insane. He might show them what does losing the sanity means

"How is mother?" Jeon Jungwoo ask the first thing in the morning after greeting his wife while having his tea.

Mrs. Jeon had made an excuse of visiting her old sick mother. But She wanted to me yn, wanted to save that little girl from this family. She saw her younger version in YN, the one who wanted to live her life independently.

"She is little better than earlier!" Mrs. Jeon stated.

Jungwoo hummed and gave a look at his bodyguard behind his wife. The bodyguard Mr. Park was like a brother to Mrs. Jeon, this was not the first time he lied to Jungwoo. He was partner in crime of Mrs. Jeon everytime. And she trusted him more than anything. Mr. Park nodded his head assuring she was telling the truth.

Jungkook walks in his parents having breakfast. He started living with them his own house doesn't feel like home, it haunts him.

They exchange good mornings with each other.

"When are you going to marry your girlfriend, jungkook?" Jungwoo asked with his strict voice.

Jungkook was nervous on how to tell the situation to his parents. No matter how older jungkook was, he always craved for his dad's satisfaction. His mother always tried to minimise his interaction with his father but jungkook was just a little kid seeking for his dad's attention and love. Jungkook used to admire his father secretly so his mom won't be sad.

He wanted jungwoo to meet yn, his daughter-in-law. He just wanted a perfect family.

"Dad! She broke up with me!" Jungkook said with little voice hoping his dad ignored him.

"So, I heard you have new girlfriend?" Jungwoo knew everything about his son and much to say he was disappointed.

"No! That freaking woman drugged me. I'm going to get yn back" jungkook flared in anger

"I am disappointed jungkook, when I was your age I had you"

Jungwoo's cold voice sent chills to jungkook and his wife. He turned to his wife looking like she is his most prized possession.

"Your Mom tried to break up with me too, jungkook. And you know what now she is here, still mine." Jungwoo turned to look at his son.

"If you really love her, I want to see you married within one month or else forget her"

Jungwoo walked out of the scene and looks like the mother and son could now breathe.

"Son! Don't listen to your dad. Don't chase her. Maybe you guys are not meant to be together" Mrs. Jeon tried her all to save you and jungkook always listen to her so it won't be different this time, right?

Nayeon was busy folding her clothes, her wardrobe has been messy and she is having vacation so she had a lot of time at home.

Her bell chimes indicating someone visited. She looked into her peephole and froze. Jungkook was standing outside her house and he was looking calm like a silence before the storm.

She remembered what you said to her

"Act normal he won't do anything"

Nayeon took a long sigh before opening the door. She was greeted with jungkook's smile, his smile was weird and nayeon couldn't decipher it.

'Act normal nayeon!!'

"Hey!! Mr. Jeon, is there something you want?"

"Can I come in?" Jeon responds

Shit. She didn't invite him, she can't invite him. You told her everything and nayeon was the most sensible one in your trip, she never made irrational decisions.

"Yes please come in!!" Nayeon invites him.

"I will come straight to the point, where is YN"

It was not a question, it was demand. Nayeon knew she had no chance yet she remembered what you told her

"Don't tell him until he forces you!"

"She is where she should be" nayeon said with her head held up high.

"No!!" Jungkook roared.

"She should have been here, with me, in my arms, by my side"

"Then you shouldn't have had affair with someone else" Nayeon was shit scared but she knew she shouldn't tell your address, atleast not now.

"You know Ms.Im, you know what is the truth. Heck even yn knows I'm sure, tell me her address or I'm afraid something bad might happen"

Jungkook was at his breaking point. He wanted to find you as soon as possible. His days and nights were horrible, he wasn't eating or sleeping properly. Jungkook didn't know where it went wrong, he was going to propose everything was going good. And then his dreams shattered and here he was alone without you by his side.

"I don't know" that was it. His anger ticked off.

"Guards bring her boyfriend and her family hostage" he commanded boring his eyes at nayeon.

"Do not think I'm a fool to trust your words"

Fuck. This was not how it's supposed to be. He was something else. He was crazy, maniac.

"Please, don't. I'll tell you she's in Paris. She told me while leaving. She called me for her passport left at my house." That was it. This was the truth.

Jungkook can feel it, and that's what he was scared of.

"This can't be true. No."

Nayeon thought maybe he didn't believe her.

"I swear jungk-"

"NO!!" Jungkook was baffled, he thought that nayeon was last option for him.

"I investigated every place of Paris because that's her favourite country and she was not there, do you fucking understand this"

Jungkook was panting , his voice hoarse. He looked like he lost his last chance to survive.

Nayeon understood the situation.

YN lied to her. No one knows where she actually is.

Author's note:- The end is coming up y'all. Sorry for the late update. My exams had my whole time and I didn't even watch any BTS content 😔. Exams sucks I know TT

Taglist: @princess-sunshyn , @douknowbts , @ane102 , @jk97bam , @dodoneck , @hellbornsworld , @heyyymin , @loumin908 , @venusesworld

#jungkook imagine #bts yandere #yandere jjk #bts imagines #bts army #bts angst #yandere #jungkook fic #yandere jungkook #jungkook fanfic

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indecenthoney · 1 day

Text

"The Puppy Problem"

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

There comes a time in your life when baby fever hits you a little too hard. Leaving you fully convinced that the only thing you need right now is to have a child. To the point, that you get a little too obsessed and the only possible cure is to actually get the deed done. This is exactly what happened to my girlfriend who has continually tempted me this entire week. Despite us both working, I have explained that raising a child takes more than just two paychecks. It includes saving and planning and a whole lot of other adult stuff. In her defense, she responded that it would be more than enough and threw in some "girl math" to sweeten the deal. If you had only seen the horrendous look on my face as she explained her reasoning.

"I-... No... What? No... We are not having a baby... Now can you please get off me? I know what you're trying to do and I am not going to breed you in the heat of the moment... Especially, if you just want to have a baby... Why not? It's because we're still young... You can barely get out of bed... How do you expect us to function? Okay okay... I know our kids are going to look cute... but that's not a reason to have a kid right now... No... And that's final... Ughhh c'mon don't look at me like that... Seriously... No... It's too soon... You're not going to let this go, are you? Okay... I am going to regret this but... This is how it's going to go... We'll adopt a puppy and if we raise him right... and you can prove that you'll be a good mother then I will think about having a baby... Emphasis on thinking about it... Deal? Alright alright... get off me now... Hey! Hey! Stop grinding... Fucking sneaky..."

After working out the details of the arrangement, I dropped by our local animal shelter to adopt a puppy. During the adoption, they had mentioned him being 4 weeks old and a golden retriever mix. Not that I had much intention of choosing a specific breed, but more so choosing him because he looked like the sun. Golden fur and a jovial personality. If we wanted a kid so badly, I thought the pup should also be similar to the mother. In all honesty, I've always seen my girlfriend as a sort of pup herself seeing as how she circles around me every time I am home. Maybe having a pup will bring out a motherly side of her. Who knows? She might turn out to be a wonderful mother. On our way home, I bought a few things: puppy bowls, puppy food, collars, a puppy bed, and even puppy toys. You can tell that I went a little overboard with all of this. After carrying all the things in, my girlfriend comes rushing to the door all excited. She played with Sol for hours and even took naps together. Completely tuckered out. We named him "Sol" by the way. After tucking them both in, I snapped a few pictures before hitting the hay myself. A few weeks passed by, and we soon learned that raising a puppy wasn't all fun and games. It also meant bringing him to the vet, cleaning up his mess, and working around our schedules to give him the attention he needed. It left us little to no time to do the things we wanted.

"Hey hun... I'm going to take Sol for a walk... No, it's okay you should rest... I think you need it... You look really tired... Get some more sleep and I'll handle Sol... I know I know... I want to cuddle too but Sol needs his walk right now or he's going to get antsy... You know how he gets... Now get some rest, I'm going for a jog and will be back in two hours, alright? Love you too..."

As Sol got bigger, he became a little too much for her. The little guy grew up to be very active and would often tire her out when it came to playtime. Luckily enough, I was able to keep up with Sol and used our time together to get the extra cardio in. Eventually, as the weeks passed, it would mostly be me and Sol spending time together leaving her to be home alone most of the time. It sort of led me to neglect her. Not that I knew, it was more of her not wanting to complain. Her mood quickly soured whenever I played or praised Sol. I would often find her tugging at my shirt but never really saying what she wanted. I would have sat down and checked on her, but Sol was already pulling on his leash for his walk. After our regular two-hour session, Sol walked off to his bowl to gulp down some water before knocking out in his doggy bed. After reaching the living room, I soon found my girlfriend completely hammered after nearly completing an entire bottle of liquor.

"Woah woah... What's the occasion? I didn't know we were celebrating... Jeez, you nearly finished the whole thing... I can't believe you're drinking alcohol... To be honest, I'm surprised you're still standing after all that... Hun? You... seem... mad... Why are you mad? What? Wait a minute... Hold on... There's no need to shout... and this was your idea, wasn't it? You're the one that wanted a kid so badly... I was only giving us a test run... H-hun? Awww hun... There's no need to cry... I'm sorry... Okay okay... I'm starting to get it... You must've been... really... lonely, huh? Drinking your sorrows away... What? Did Sol make you jealous? Yeah? See? And parenting is a whole other ball game... The baby would keep us busy 24/7... We wouldn't even have time to cuddle... What am I going to do with you? Mmm... I have an idea... Follow me... C'mon right this way... Ah, don't worry about him... Sol is going to be out for a couple of hours... More than enough to make up for lost time... Hahahaha... It's fine... It's fine... Let me take care of you, okay?"

Fuck. In the end, I was so focused on raising Sol that I ended up neglecting her own feelings. Even if I did have good intentions, I guess a part of me really wanted it to work out knowing how badly she wanted a kid. But seeing her this sad broke my heart. I wanted to make it up to her. Who knows how long she must've been feeling this way? After entering our room, I quickly pushed her against the door. Locking lips; intertwining ourselves. Pining for one another as if we haven't seen each other in ages. As cheesy as it may sound, I needed her like I needed air. It had been quite a while since I last tasted her sending shivers down my spine. The urge to take a bite out of her. To hear her scream my name in pain and pleasure. And though I hesitated, I would soon feel her hands pulling me in. Tempting me to do whatever I please on a condition. It being that all the attention in the world must be placed on her. No phone call or emergency could distract me from her gaze. And so I bite. Not a second wasted before pressing my lips against hers; muffling her moans. I acted on my excitement. Leaving her literally breathless. Abruptly, I retreat giving her some way to catch her breath. Only to see the desperate look in her eyes as I pull away. Longing for me to fill the void that I had placed.

"You know... You're really cute when you look up at me like that... Hun? Hahahah... There's not a single thought behind those pretty puppy eyes of yours, huh? Alright... C'mon, stand up... We can't have you melting in my arms just yet... Follow me... Mhm... Sit right here... Let's just take these off, yeah? What pretty little panties you have on... Hm? What're we doing in front of the mirror? Well... You're just going to sit down and see for yourself... Fuck... me... This wet already? Just from a little kissing? That's so embarrassing... Put it in? Hahahah... Sweetie... There's no need to rush... Of course, I can slide my fingers in... It's just a matter of if I want to... God... You're just soaking right through them... Look at the mirror... See? Aren't you fucking pretty... Now now... If you even think about looking away, I'll stop completely... Yeah? Good... girl... That's it... Mmm... Look at how leaky you've become... So naughty... It's okay... It's understandable... I haven't had much time to touch myself either, you know? So I know what you're going through... That being said, I'll stop teasing... Thank you for waiting so patiently... Good things come to good girls that wait, no? And you're a good girl, are you not? Exactly... I'm glad you think that because I have a little something something for you... Mhm... A collar... Pretty, right? There's no need to be shy... As soon as you put it on I'll give you what you want, deal? Hahahah... See? Nothing to be ashamed about... Now... Why don't we fill you with fingers you love so so so much... Ohhh fuck... Too much? You say that but you're not telling me to stop, are you? Let's go a little deeper... Fill those pretty little holes... Mmph... Hahaha... Yeah? That's my girl... Shhhhh shhhhh it's okay... It's feels good, doesn't it? Look at you... gripping around my fingers... I know you missed me... but I'm right here hun... I can barely pull my fingers back... Don't wanna let go, huh...? Such a needy little girl... "

After seeing how sensitive she was from just the rubbing, I opted to taking a much slower approach. It would have been boring to have her concede so soon. Knowing that, I guided my middle finger down; easing her in until she was ready for another. Her eyes rolled back in ecstasy as the second pressed up into her walls. Her once empty cunt now filled to the brim causing her to throw her head back. Shallow breathes to shakey motions. My other hand pulling her back into the gaze of the mirror. Forcing her to watch as I toy with her for my enjoyment. Stuttering moans and heavy breaths escape her lips. Failing to communicate between my pulsing fingers. My arms and legs coiled around her preventing any chance of escape.

"Hahahahaha... Uhm... What was that? Hun... You're gonna have to pull yourself together if you want the slightest chance of me understanding you... And what do you think you're doing? Stopping me all of a sudden... Ohhhh? A break? But we just started... I mean... This is what you wanted, no? And now you're telling me to stop? Give me one good reason why I shouldn't finger fuck you senseless right now... Huh? You're going to... what? Pee...? Hahahah... And, so what? I'm not scared of little waterworks... Awwww is the filthy little pup gonna piss herself... You poor thing... Must've been all that alcohol... What a way to bite yourself in the ass... Please? And if I say no? What if I wanna see you make mess out of yourself...? Hm? Anything? Really? Fine fine fine... You have yourself deal... Let's go to the bathroom, shall we? Oop- Before I forget... Where do I put that leash of mine? There we go... Just gonna put this on... and mhm... ready to go... Huh? Well... I'm bringing you to the bathroom, of course, silly... Joking? Me? Hahhaha... No no I'm dead serious... And all you have to do is keep your end of the deal... C'mon quickly... We wouldn't want to ruin the sheets more than we already have... The sooner we get this over with the better... So get on all fours... After all, you're just dumb little pup that doesn't know any better... How can I trust you to piss properly when I can't even leave you alone for a second? Now... be a good girl and crawl for me..."

With some reluctance, she made her way off the bed and to the floor. Her back perfectly arched leaving room for temptation to fuck her right then and there. She attempted to quickly scurry off to the bathroom to avoid any further embarrassment. But was brought to a complete halt as I tugged on her leash. In her confusion, I once again pulled to signal her back to me. Her gaze avoiding eye contact at all costs whilst questioning my motives.

"Well, aren't you excited? Hahahah... There's no need to rush... You should really know better, hun... We can't have you running off, can we? Let's take it slow... Mhm... You're doing such a good job... Almost there... Fuck... It's cute... The way your ass shakes with each step... I'm starting to think we should collar you more often... Would you like that? Hahaha I'm just kidding... Kinda... Here we are... Woah... Not yet sweetheart... You need to ask for permission... and then I'll let you piss... Good things come to good girls that wait, remember? Need to make sure that you're trained... Shake. You heard me... Shake. Good girl... Such a quick learner... Alright... Sit. Oh? Alright alright... Bark. What's the hold-up? C'mon, hun... Bark for me... Hahahah... Fuck... No no, you did good... You're allowed to piss now... but you have to piss like a mutt... Yes... Still on all fours... Raise your leg and piss... Embarrassing? Well... I could always stick my fingers in and mess with your insides until you piss yourself... No? Alright... so do your best..."

Relieving herself quickly took a turn for the worst as the golden liquid dribbled down her thigh. A rollercoaster of emotions were displayed before rivers of tears ran down her face. I found myself conflicted between guilt and the sick kick of her own embarrassment. Nonetheless, I was proud of her and praised her for her efforts. After wiping the tears, I hurridely ran a bath for the both us to better unwind from this interesting little experience. Unfortunately, my member was still fully erect. A particular part of me that couldn't really be ignored as it throbbed against her ass. I sat there in silence trying to repent for my crimes. But even then, she was gentle with me; easing me from my suffering. My cock that felt the cool sensation of the bath soon enveloped by her pulsing, hot cunt. Speaking too soon, I experienced a more insufferable punishment. We laid there motionless. God. I wanted to fuck her. But to risk ruining her mood even further would be a fate worse than hell itself. I was unsure of my disposition. Was she mad? Was that too much? I pulled gently on her collae to reveal the nape of her neck. Placing kisses awaiting some sort of response.

"I-... Uhm... S-sorry I really don't know what came over me... and if you're upset I completely understan- Huh? What... am I waiting for? What do you mean?"

My mind went blank over the course of this conversation. I was completely perplexed. Even after pissing herself, she had the audacity to question my determination. She sat there. Unsure of whether I was going to keep my word and take care of her or have her do all the work herself. In that instance, it would be said that I had completely lost, but I had my own pride for these sorta things. I honestly didn't give her enough credit. She wasn't just some puppy girl or frail princess. She was a lady. A lady with needs. It's not something complicated like a dog eat dog world. It's simpler than that. It is to use or be used. And how am I a man, if I were not to satisfy and fulfill those very needs. Fingers slipped through narrow openings and hooked their way around her collar pulling her down even deeper into my hips. The once, cold tension had subsided. Water violently splashed; spilling out from the sides due to shaking hips. The shrill shriek of her voice slightly choking. Truly a mix of pain and pleasure.

"Mmmph... Fuck... You don't understand how much I've missed this, baby... Aaa... God... I-I wouldn't know what to do with myself if I had spend another... FUCKING... week of not being able to touch you... Hahahah and from the looks of it... You feel the same way, huh? The way your pussy tightens every time I pull harder on your collar... Awww... Speak up, princess... Tell me how much you love it... Right here... Right now... I'll even reward you... Give you as many puppies as you want... Breed you over... and over... Fill your pretty little holes to the brim... No? Hahahaha a little too late for a no... A bit heartless even... Stopping me this late into the game... Do you not want puppies anymore? Not right now? Here I thought our kids were going to look cute... Well, you better do something quick... cause the closer I get I'm starting to think I really do want kids..."

Her splendid body towered over me as I lay watching in the tub. She straddled me but leaned in for a kiss before guiding my cock back into her. And here I thought, I had scared her with the whole bit but maybe she did want kids after all. At this point, I didn't really care. Nor was I in any position to stop her. Something was a bit off. A bit tighter than usual? I wanted to move but she had my arms in lockdown, asking for another minute to adjust. Even just kicking my leg up a bit would cause her to bite down into my shoulder. Maybe she came? After a while, I decided to do the moving on my own. Slow, shallow strokes. Fucking into her as if we had all the time in the world. Her bites slowly transitioned into moans muffled into my shoulder. She sunk deeper into my arms; placing kisses on her forehead. Reassuring her to leave everything to me. Nearing my limit, I grasped her waist with both hands before cumming into her. A euphonic blend of moans bounced off the bathroom walls which soon after was filled with laughter.

"Hahahah... I felt like I came buckets... That's kinda gross actually... I'll shut up... Hahahah... Youuuuu okay? We really have to find time for ourselves... I could always have the neighbor kids to walk Sol around... To be honest, why haven't we done that sooner? Right? Hahahah... Uhm I'm sorry for neglecting you... I should've checked on you sooner... Silly... I love you... I know how important having a kid was to you... so I wanted it to work... You know? I'm glad we got this sorted out... Now let's get you cleaned up! I don't want you catching a cold... And maybe... grab you a plan B... What do you mean no? You want to have a kid? But I came in you... I came in your... Oh... OHHHH! No wonder you were all flinch-y... That's kinda hot..."

After cleaning ourselves up, we took our time in bed to cuddle and talk about everything that happened. Luckily, Sol was still sleeping soundly in his bed by the time we were finished. It gave me more than enough time for us to reconnect and flirt. A kiss here and there. A little, spicy makeout session that almost turned into another round of explicit scenes. But I digress. I would even go on to tease her by calling her a "good girl". In my excitement, I guess I was a bit loud. That was when we heard scratching at the door. It was Sol pawing and whining wondering where we were. After opening the door, he would rush onto the bed and snuggle up to the mom. I quickly followed and joined the party. The three of us were happy and tuckered out after a long day. Who knows? Maybe one day soon, I wouldn't mind having a kid. Or two. Or... three.

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With love and lust,

Honey

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