#but brain has priorities known as Must Be Hard On Self

[insomniac-arrest]

Depression is such an effective tranquilizer that it creates a great opportunity for plot twists in your real life. I have a pretty consistent opinion of myself which is "low" and "never ending guilt and shame for reasons I don't understand."

Recently received feedback from two different editing clients that started with "Please pass along to your editor that she is phenomenal at her job" and "I was blown away by the evaluation I received."

You always hear about how depression (and anxiety) lies to you and distorts reality, but there is logically knowing that and then there is like, physical proof of it and you are suddenly Neo in the Matrix jumping out of the fucked up little tube machine.

#damn ego is a helluva drug #regular plot twists where I Am Good #you ever wonder why you are constantly mad at yourself despite like the world burning down #I could have better things to be mad about #but brain has priorities known as Must Be Hard On Self #IA talks #bipolar stuff

[meenawrites]

Neytiri and Spider

As part of my Spider brainrot, I can't help but keep thinking his relationship to Neytiri. 

While I wholeheartedly disagree with Neytiri's treatment of Spider throughout his life, seeing as he was a CHILD and not responsible for anything that happened to her or her people, I GET IT. Spider is a physical manifestation of Neytiri's trauma, a trauma trigger if you will. And he's around her and her family as long as possible every day, and her kids are always with him. It must be hard to watch considering everything she's gone through with the loss of her sister, her father, the destruction of her home. I can't get behind her attitude towards Spider but I understand it. 

I have to think though that Neytiri has to have SOME self-awareness of Spider not actually being responsible for her trauma, and just being a kid. I think if she had no awareness whatsoever, she would have absolutely forbade him to play with her kids or even get near the Na'vi at all. I'm sure she could do it. But I think the part of her brain that could still think clearly about Spider through her cloud of hatred was the one to concede to Jake about Spider playing with her kids and allowing him close by. Especially later when the RDA returns, I'm sure her trauma was re-triggered and it had to have soured her tolerance of Spider, but we still see him at High Camp interacting with the kids and touching their ikrans as they dismount after the attack on the train. I think she's too deeply affected by what she has been through and has not really had time to process it, so tolerance and leniency is all she feels she can offer Spider during his life. 

But she clearly didn't tolerate him enough to go back for him when he got captured by the RDA (neither did Jake but that's for another post). In my mind, I think she saw her family in danger, prioritized, and decided Spider wasn't one of her priorities. Which again is understandable given her experiences but still wrong towards a child. 

But the moment in the movie that really gets me thinking hard on Neytiri's relation to Spider is the moment on the boat when she has a knife to his throat. Again, a horrible thing to do to Spider for so many reasons, but I GET IT. Kiri was being held at knifepoint, she'd just lost the child that made her a mother, and she wasn't about to lose her second. I think Neytiri had every intention of going through with her threat if Quarritch didn't release Kiri. I really do. We all know that Neytiri is as ruthless as she is passionate and loving, and I really think that in that state of rage and grief and fear, she would have killed Spider had Kiri not been returned to her. 

But then she cuts Spider's chest, and I am very tempted to think that that action, actually drawing Spider's blood, was somewhat of a wakeup call for her in that 'what was she doing threatening a child? A child who's known her all his life?' But she can't back down yet because Kiri hasn't been released. The reason I think she had this kind of light bulb moment upon cutting him is because of the fact that she pushes Spider BEHIND HER when Kiri is released. She could have easily been rid of this presence in her life that is a constant reminder of her pain and loss, could have just surrendered him to Quarritch, but she decides instead to push him behind her protectively. In my mind, I think it's maybe an inkling of Neytiri's motherly instinct kicking in, that no matter her distaste for the kid, he was still a child, and she would never hand over a child to the demon himself. I also think that the shock of actually hurting Spider made her really LISTEN to Spider and Kiri begging for each other's lives, and realize that if she did this, Kiri would never forgive her, Spider had no care for himself in the face of Kiri's danger, and she would have committed a crime so great Eywa wouldn't forgive her for it. 

That is to me, how I view that moment on the boat. I think that Neytiri and Spider's relationship is very interesting because of how loaded it is, and I really hope that subsequent movies actually develop their relationship in an interesting direction instead of a flat continuation of her hatred for him. Their relationship has the potential to be incredibly nuanced and tender if given the chance and developed properly. I hope that this moment and Neteyam's death become some sort of catalyst for her to re-examine her relationship with Spider and what she has put him through. Like, the realization that this boy is only a year older than Neteyam who died in a war he was too young to fight in and that Spider is also too young to fight in and be responsible for is what I want to happen. I also see them finding some alliance in the fact that they would both do anything for Kiri. 

Essentially, I want Neytiri to come to SEE Spider. I think that if James Cameron doesn't do that in the next movies, it's a dishonor to Neytiri's character and he would be making her into a flat character, which she most certainly is not. 

#thanks for coming to my TED talk #I love Neytiri #But I disagree with her #But she's traumatized #As is Spider #I love him and he deserves loving parents #Spider needs to be wanted #spider socorro #Avatar 2 #Neytiri #Jake Sully #avatar the way of water

[sageglobalresponse]

10 Ways To Work Smarter, Not Harder

Everyone has 24 hours each day, but somehow, some people achieve more than others during this same period of time we all have each day.  The reason for this is not luck or magic. It is because those who achieve more have mastered the art of working smart, not necessarily hard.

One of the easiest ways to improve your productivity and performance is through smart work, not hard work alone. With smart work, you can also save your energy, make yourself more valuable, increase your self-esteem and many more.

Working smart makes it possible for you to achieve more in the shortest time possible and out-perform those working harder than you. 

In this article, we will discuss 10 ways you can be more productive by working smarter.

1. Shun perfectionism

Perfectionism slows down delivery and wastes your valuable time.  If you wait until you get it all figured out before you start, then you may never get to do the work. Working smart requires you to make quick but calculated decisions. To work smart, you must always hit the ground running immediately when you are given a task.

2. Discover your productivity zone and time

The environment you are in will influence your productivity. This is why it is important to discover where you are most productive. For instance, some people find it easier to assimilate while reading in a noisy place, while others decode quickly when they read in a quiet and serene environment.

Also, are you a night person or a day person? You must discover this to know when best to perform your task.

3. Stop multitasking

As human beings, we always try to multitask and lay our hands on many things simultaneously, but the truth is that multitasking is a myth. It is difficult to keep the focus on multiple tasks that require brain power. Always try to focus your attention fully on one single task until you complete it, then you can quickly move to the next task. 

4. Set your priorities

You must be able to always grade the importance of the activities in front of you every day, then prioritise the important ones and focus more of your energy on them. Avoid channeling much of your energy on the less important tasks at the expense of the important ones.

5. Learn to say no

Saying no may be difficult sometimes, but it is a habit you should learn if you care about working smart. You don’t need to say yes to everything that is brought to you. Try to learn how to respectfully decline irrelevant tasks that may drain your energy and brain power. Be sure not to overschedule yourself and be realistic about what you can achieve in a day.

6. Plan ahead of time and stick to it 

Be it a daily, weekly or monthly plan, it is a known fact that planning makes your work easier and smarter. Planning gives you a clear idea of what you need to do next. It saves you from an unnecessary waste of time trying to think about the next line of action. Having a clear plan gives you direction, helps you focus and increases your confidence.

7. Maximise your work time; take a break when necessary

As the saying goes, “All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.” To work smart, you don’t need to work 24 hours a day. You just need to maximise your working time. Without a proper break, your brain will easily get tired and lose concentration. Take time out to relax and cool your brain.

8. Surround yourself with like-minded people

Apart from serving as motivation for you to get your job done, surrounding yourself with like-minded people will also make your work easier and smarter. Getting relevant and useful information will be easier if you are with people who share the same commitment as you. 

9. Avoid distraction

You can’t work smartly if you are distracted. To be more productive, you need to do away with any form of distraction or interruption. To concentrate fully on the task in front of you, there is a need to turn off anything that can divert your attention.

10. Take care of yourself

Working smart requires you to prioritize taking good care of yourself. You should get enough sleep, eat healthy food, and exercise your body. Feeling well rested will boost your productivity.

#work #smartworking #sage response #sageglobalresponse #likesforlike #youtube #new york

[dabble-too]

Improve Your Family Health with these Nutrition Must-Haves!

Out of Town Blog Improve Your Family Health with these Nutrition Must-Haves!

4 Products to Keep Your Loved Ones Strong and Healthy

It’s important to put health as the top priority, especially after the start of the pandemic that tested our immune system. Apart from doing the basics such as exercising regularly and eating healthy foods, there are other ways we can boost our immune system with proper nutrition.

Improve Your Family Health with these Nutrition Must-Haves!

Aside from fruits and vegetables, we can get nutrition from supplements available in the commercial market like Abbott products. This trusted brand is known for providing high-quality and affordable products for the family. We’ve listed trusted Abbott products that’ll help ensure that your family is in optimum health every day.

Pediasure Plus Vanilla 3.6kg For Kids Above 3 Years Old Bundle of 3

Pediasure Plus Vanilla 3.6kg For Kids Above 3 Years Old Bundle of 3

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Children ages three years old and above can be hard to feed most of the time. Pediasure Plus helps you give your children the nutrients they need as this provides 100% of the Recommended Energy and Nutrient Intake. This nutritional supplement can also be taken with or in between meals and is created with a blend of probiotics and prebiotics which can help children get fewer sick days too.

This supplement is best for toddlers aged 3 years and above. Get 5 scoops and dissolve with 190 ml of warm water to prepare. Stir well.

Similac GainSchool HMO 3.6kg For Kids Above 3 Years Old Bundle of 3

Similac GainSchool HMO 3.6kg For Kids Above 3 Years Old

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Another nutritional supplement for your children that you must consider is Similac Gain School. This Abbott product focuses on brain, immunity, and growth, with its unique combination of DHA, Lutein, and RRR Vitamin E. It emphasizes support for overall cognitive development. Similac Gain School also comes with HMO, which helps the immune system by protecting children’s gut. This milk formula is best for children ages 3 years old and above.

Ensure Gold HMB Vanilla 3.2kg For Adult Nutrition Bundle of 3

Ensure Gold HMB Vanilla 3.2kg For Adult Nutrition

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One of Abbott’s most well-known products is Ensure Gold, especially for older adults and seniors. This nutritional supplement powder drink provides complete nutrition and has HMB that reduces muscle breakdown and supports muscle build-up. This supplement’s other key ingredients include Omega-3 and fatty acids for the heart and a dual fiber blend for gut health. It helps build muscle mass so that as adults age, they can still perform physical activities properly. Ensure Gold is best served with 6 scoops per serving, twice a day daily.

Glucerna Vanilla 1.8kg For Diabetic Nutrition Bundle of 3

Glucerna Vanilla 1.8kg For Diabetic Nutrition

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Another Abbott product that can help adults function normally is Glucerna. It’s recommended for diabetics, and for those who are following a calorie-controlled meal plan. Glucerna is made with low glycemic carbohydrates, a unique lipid blend of Omega-3 and Omega-6, vitamin D, Zinc, Selenium, and Vitamin A. To prepare Glucerna, add 5 scoops into a 200ml glass of cold water. Stir until dissolved.

Want to try Abbott products? Get them from Shopee for up to 30% off at Shopee’s 5.5 Brands Festival! Enjoy discounts from April 26 to May 7 and 32% off on May 5 from 12 to 2 AM on the Abbott Official Shopee Store.

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Follow Out of Town Travel Blog on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, and  Pinterest if you want more travel and tech-related updates.

Read: Prioritize Self Care With These Effective Health Supplements

Original article: Improve Your Family Health with these Nutrition Must-Haves!

©2022 Out of Town Blog. All Rights Reserved.

Improve Your Family Health with these Nutrition Must-Haves! Team Out of Town Out of Town Blog

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#Out of Town Blog

[modernpaw]

Endorphins

Dan Jones x Female Reader

Summary: While running around The Capitol one morning, you chance upon Dan from work.

CW: Mentions of sex, a little swearing, implied unsafe sex, AFAB reader

Words: 1.8k

This day is not going well, and it's barely even begun. You sigh as you hobble over to the steps of the Lincoln Memorial, keeping most of your weight on one ankle. You came here at the break of dawn to get some exercise, to stimulate the production of those elusive endorphins, which you were then hoping would help you manage the mounting stress at work. But because you're not an active person in general, and because you're still getting used to your new running shoes, you ended up landing awkwardly on your left foot and twisting your ankle. So much for stress relief.

Maybe it's just slightly sprained, you think as you carefully lower yourself on the steps. You try to rotate the affected ankle and wince when you feel a twinge of pain.

Okay, definitely sprained.

You're not sure how you're going to walk back to your car, much less drive back home. The worst part of it all is that you haven't even been running long enough to make the injury worth it.

The view of the Washington Memorial looks beautiful though.

You lean back on both hands, deciding to enjoy the peace and quiet, before you allow yourself to continue worrying. After all, it's not like you can change anything. What was that quote you saved on your Pinterest board just the other day? The only thing you can control is how you react to things out of your control.

At 5:30 in the morning, and on a Saturday at that, the entire area is devoid of the usual tourist crowd. There are a few early birds, but because they know how not to hurt themselves within the first 20 minutes of their run, none of them linger around in one spot for too long.

Certainly none of them are paying you any attention. Except maybe for that one person who looks like he's headed your way.

Great. Maybe if you make yourself look as nonchalant as possible, he wouldn't realize that you've twisted your ankle. The last thing you want right now is to be given unsolicited advice. You already get a lot of that from work, thankyouverymuch.

He gets closer and closer, and to your mortification, you realize that it's not a stranger at all, but someone you actually know.

Oh for heaven's sake, you think exasperatedly. You came here hoping to find a solution to your work stress, not to exacerbate it. Why the fuck is the universe sending you Dan Jones right now?

It's probably too much to hope that he hasn't seen you.

Dan is one of the staffers at the Senate office. You may have harbored a tiny bit of a crush on him when you first started working in an adjacent office, but that kindling of a spark was promptly extinguished when he challenged you to rethink your stance on an environment policy and basically implied that you were naive and idealistic. The thing is, he wasn't even rude or obnoxious about it. He was just right.

And you didn't like that. Well, not specifically the fact that he was right, but that you were wrong. You still don't. You worked your ass your entire life just to avoid being in that situation, and it took Dan all but one minute to dismantle all your hard work. Okay, that's a bit melodramatic, but he did shake your self-confidence a bit. I mean, it was your first week at work!

Had he been mean or awful about it, your ego might have forgiven him more, might have found solace in the fact that there are one or two things that are deplorable about him, but he wasn't and there aren't. And so you tamped down on that crush hard. Made sure it never reared its ugly head again and worked your ass even harder to make up for that initial embarrassment.

Now, though, it looks like you're being served another slice of humble pie.

"Hey," he greets out in a friendly tone. "I thought that was you."

"Hi, Dan," you greet back. "Er, fancy meeting you here."

You try not to cringe at the response you just gave. It sounds like lazily written dialogue in a spy movie, or worse, the first 20 seconds of a cheap porno.

Dan is, of course, unaware of your private turmoil. "Oh yeah, I come here most mornings," he answers, casually pulling his right leg up from behind with his opposite hand to stretch his quads. "I didn't know you run as well."

You try not to stare at his thighs, but you can't help it when they're right in your line of sight.

"Oh I don't run often," you say. And then not knowing what possessed you, you add, "To be honest, I don't run at all. This is probably my first time running in, I don't know, five or six years."

Dan does the same quick quad stretch with his other leg before settling down next to you with his knees to his chest. As he interlocks his hands over them casually, you turn your head to look back at the Washington Monument, so that you don't accidentally get caught staring.

Jesus, does this man ever not look good? Anyone can look dapper in a properly fitting blazer, but Dan is just wearing a nondescript hoodie and running shorts.

He says something, but it doesn't register, so you ask him to repeat it again.

"I said would you like to run together?" he says. "No pressure though."

Reminded of your predicament by his choice of words, you wonder if you should just tell Dan that you sprained your ankle.

"I can't," you answer weakly.

You can tell that your own choice of words has confused him, but he doesn't press, only nods his acceptance. He moves to get up, and your brain, probably drugged up due to a belated release of endorphins, pushes you to say something.

"I twisted my ankle!" you blurt out.

A look of concern passes over his face and he moves a few steps down to sit right beside where your feet are currently stretched out.

"Which ankle?" he asks.

"The left one," you answer and you wince again as your injury makes itself known. Is it just your imagination or did the pain get worse?

"You should have said something earlier," he murmurs. Before you can react to that, he hovers his hands over your left ankle. "May I?"

Once again, your traitorous self answers and you nod your head.

Dan carefully unties your shoelaces, taking the time to loosen them all the way up before gingerly cradling your ankle with one hand and oh-so-gently removing your shoe with the other. As he proceeds to remove your sock, his fingers lightly brush against your skin, and a gasp escapes you.

"I'm sorry," he murmurs softly, mistaking your response for one of pain. "I'll be fast. I just want to see how swollen it is."

You give him the green light, and he continues to divest your foot of the white cotton. The more skin he unveils, the more the two of you realize just how serious the sprain is. Your ankle has practically doubled in size, confirming your earlier suspicion that you won't be able to drive back home.

"We should get this iced and then elevated," he says, looking back up at you.

"I don't really have anything with me," you answer.

He gently lowers your foot back down, but doesn't take his hand off it. In fact, as he takes a moment to contemplate something, you feel him caress your ankle reassuringly. The pain on your foot gradually blurs, and you barely manage to hold in a moan of pleasure, pumped up on endorphins as you are.

"I have an ice pack in my car," he volunteers. "It's not that far. I can go get it now, but I also think it's best if I drive you home, so you can rest properly."

Oh, you think to yourself, surprised. While a part of you probably knew that he wouldn't just leave you alone, you didn't expect him to go so far as to take you home. Then again, it's also the most Dan thing he can do. Your mixed reaction must have shown on your face because he quickly backtracks.

"But, uh, perhaps there's someone we can call to pick you up?'" he asks, a bit of red creeping up the sides of his ears. "I'm sorry I didn't mean to overstep."

He looks adorable like this. Dan is normally such an infallible force at work. In the last 12 months since you met him, you've never seen him appear this flustered once, and your stomach can't help but flip flop at the possibility that this is all because of you.

"No, I'm good," you say with a smile. "I did bring my car though."

He still looks a bit red, but you see some of his composure returning. "We can come back for it later. Right now, though, this foot is our priority. It's criminal how long we've allowed it to remain untreated."

Is Dan Jones flirting with you? You decide that the only way to find out is to flirt back. "That's a serious allegation, Mr. Jones," you remark coyly, not missing the way his breath hitches ever so slightly at the way you addressed him. "Perhaps this warrants an internal investigation"

"Oh I'll even lead it, ma'am," he answers, his eyes darkening as he meets your gaze. "And I'll make sure to be very thorough."

You shudder at the implication of his words. There's something about Dan that makes you think that he could be a gentle lover, but would also not hesitate to literally fuck you six ways into Sunday if you ask for it. You feel yourself getting wetter by the second. God, it feels like the endorphins are really working your body double time.

Dan turns his back to you and bends his knees slightly. "Get on," he says, tapping his shoulder with one hand, further cementing your theory that this man will absolutely ruin you in bed. "I'll give you a ride to the car."

You lick your lips and do as you're told, resisting the urge to recommend a better preposition. Once he's certain that you're secure, he extends both of his hands behind his back to hoist you up, and slowly stands back to his full height. He then tugs his elbows closer to his hips, so that not all your weight is on his arms, inadvertently making you rub your already sensitive folds against his back. A soft whimper escapes your lips, one that you're certain did not go unnoticed seeing as you practically moaned right into his ear.

You hear him swear in frustration and he gets a move on. Each step has you rubbing up against him, giving you some modicum of relief one second and then wrenching it away the next, but you bite your lip and you hold you tongue. You know it'll be absolutely worth it when you get to his car. You just hope to fucking god that he's parked it in a secluded spot.

Tagging: @paper-n-ashes

If anybody else wants to be tagged in future adcu stories, just let me know! :)

#Dan Jones x Reader #Dan Jones x Female Reader #mentions of sex #swearing #adcu #adcu fanfiction #the report movie #implied unsafe sex

[unbelievableholland]

Love, Me: Part 3

(Moodboard/cover made by me. Pics from Pinterest.)

Pairings: Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

Warnings: Anxiety attacks

Words: 3,737

Summary: After the events of Endgame, and the death of the three people you cared most about, will you be able to move on?

A/N: Sorry this took so long! Our exams start tomorrow, so by next week I’ll try to be as consistent as possible with uploading fics because school would be over for me by then. As for the people who requested, they might take a while to make but don’t worry! I promise I’ll get them all done.

~Series Masterlist ~ Main Masterlist~

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

When you woke up, you found yourself attached to multiple wires. You felt cold, hard metal on your back and a helmet-like thing on your head. There were thick cuffs attaching your hands, feet, and torso to the metal bed.

It was highly uncomfortable. Especially because the “bed” was slanted. You felt the wires digging into your skin and the metal structure of the “helmet” was pressed against your skull.

The scenario felt very familiar to you. It was always how Bucky had described them except, he had the luxury to sit on a chair instead of lying awkwardly on a slanted metal platform.

You’re not really sure on what they’re planning to do to you, but you had a slight idea on what it was. The obvious one would be mind control. Although, you’re not really sure because if they had kidnapped you for your tech, they wouldn’t be able to know how it worked without you.

And it wasn’t like they could turn you into some Winter Soldier, right? You were a really great fighter but your skills leaned more towards mechanical engineering. If they could somehow make you ten times better at fighting, mind control would make more sense. 

But they wanted your tech. If they controlled you or if they erased your memory, they wouldn’t have the advantage of knowing how to operate what they worked incredibly hard on to steal.

Your train of thoughts were interrupted though when you heard a series of footsteps getting closer to the room you were in. They sounded like heavy boots accompanied by several weapons of some sorts. By the way they sounded, they were most likely guns. 

Whoever these people were, they had been notified of your consciousness. And as much as you wanted to try and escape, you couldn't. 

Not only are you tied to the metal bed, but you’re also paralyzed. It wouldn’t help if you spent a lot of your energy trying to break free when it was clear that you couldn’t.

And for some reason, everything felt different. You couldn't exactly pinpoint what it was, but there was a slight difference in the way the air felt. It was like the atmosphere was suffocating you. Like you didn’t belong there.

The only logical reason you could think of was that you were still trying to adjust to being connected to a bunch of machines; and because you didn’t actually belong there. Maybe it was your brain going insane because of the situation.

When you heard the door open, you couldn’t see who the people were. Your head was staring straight forward and the door was out of your line of sight. They had entered the room and closed the door, then stopped walking.

They were most likely trying to hide their identities or mocking your paralyzed state.

From the right side of the room, you heard a man speak. It was commanding and emotionless, a voice you didn’t recognize. 

The words he spoke sent chills up your spine and dread to take over you as the first bead of sweat drips down your forehead.

“Miss Stark. I think it’s time we get acquainted, don’t you think?”

---

“What do you mean you can’t track her?!” 

Saying that Bucky was angry would be the understatement of the century. They couldn’t track you. Not even with the satellite you and Tony had created to scan the world for anyone who had the tracker implanted in them.

The satellite was to be used for emergencies only and the tracker was only activated when the satellite was. And now that they were using it, they couldn’t find you. You weren’t anywhere.

Bucky couldn’t bear the thought of you being in the hands of Hydra. Especially when they didn’t even have any clue on where to start looking.

“The satellite says that she isn’t anywhere, Bucky. This isn’t my area of expertise so excuse me for not knowing how to find her.” 

Bruce was rarely ever this stressed. He always tried to stay calm in these situations because he believed that panicking or fighting wouldn’t help and would only slow down whatever progress they had. 

But at that moment, he was at the brink of having a breakdown. If it wasn’t obvious enough, the young Stark meant the world to them. They had loved her ever since the first time Tony introduced you to the team and they had all made a silent vow to protect you.

The guilt coursing through them now was indescribable. They couldn’t protect you from your own self-destructive behaviours and they couldn’t protect you from Hydra. They failed to be there for you when you needed them the most.

Instead, you were the one to put on a brave face to prioritize their health and safety after the blip and the war.

All of them were scared, but no one was as terrified as Bruce, Rhodey and Happy. Tony had trusted them with Y/N and they had promised to take good care of her.

They loved her to death. Being as clueless as they are now only made them think about how there’s a chance of losing the kid they practically thought of as their own.

After a few minutes of pacing, Happy had had enough. He was breathing heavily and he was trying his best not to pull his hair out. But he knew that freaking out wouldn’t be a good way of handling the situation. The priority was to find you as fast as they could.

But they weren’t really succeeding in that. All they had was a hologram, a letter for Peter and a broken fucking satellite. 

“Ok, let’s think about this. Hydra could have stolen her tech. Why kidnap her? And where would they take her? They should obviously know better than to think that Y/N’s going to tell them how this dimension shit works, right?” Sam spoke. He was, by far, the calmest out of all of them. That didn’t mean he actually was though. 

“If they have someone like me, it would make sense why they’d kidnap her.”

Everyone turned to look at Wanda as she responded. Her head was hung low and her eyes were glazed over with tears as she tapped her foot against the floor endlessly.

As the realization dawned on them, they all released a shaky breath of worry. If someone were to read your mind, they would know how to take control of your tech and would possibly see the future plans you have for it.

But that’s not what they were afraid of. Once Hydra’s got what they wanted, what would they do to you? After all, you’d be useless to them if that’s the case. 

They needed to get to you. Fast. As long as you were an asset to them, you would surely stay alive. God knows what they’d do to you, but at least you wouldn’t be dead.

“Don’t worry too much though. I taught her how to detect and resist mind reading. I don’t know how good she is, but I hope she can at least fight them off for a while.” Wanda continued, nervously fiddling with her fingers. You were like a sister to her, and she was internally freaking out about your possible whereabouts.

Rhodey and Strange, on the other hand, were both quiet. Although Stephen hasn’t known you for a while, he has to admit that he’s grown quite fond of you. Taking care of you was his own way of thanking your father for his sacrifice, and that’s exactly why he’s around the compound a lot.

“Maybe we can trace her suit?” Rhodey suggested. “Earlier in the lab, I didn’t notice her suit, so maybe she brought it with her and—”

“And the wall was closed.” Bruce interjected in realization. None of them knew about the new suit you were building or that you had built a new dimension behind your wall up until they saw the hologram you recorded. “The suit she built— it wasn’t there when we looked for Y/N. Her lab was clean and the wall where she hid the dimension she built was closed. They must have stolen it.”

“We already established that they stole her tech. Why is this important?” Bucky sassed. He wouldn’t usually be like this. Most of the time he was quiet so they were all trying to adjust to this version of Bucky they were seeing. The team understood him though. Bucky has always been very protective of you.

“They figured out how to surpass Y/N’s coding and they figured out how to break into her system. They managed to close the wall and they even broke into Friday.” Bruce takes a deep breath, knowing that the rest of the people there might not like what he’s going to say next. “Who else do we know who’s as familiar with Y/N’s tech as much as Y/N herself?”

“No!” Wanda yelled. “It’s not a good idea if we get Peter involved. Come on Bruce, give the kid a break.”

“I agree with Wanda. I don’t think Peter’s in the right state of mind to handle something like this.” For the first time since they got in the jet, Stephen finally spoke.

“We could try Wakanda? I’m sure Shuri wouldn’t mind helping us. Especially since it’s Y/N.” Happy said as everyone stared at him in surprise. A silent agreement being between everyone being made, determination clear on their faces.

---

Peter felt tears running down his face as he knocked on their apartment. He usually didn’t like it when aunt May saw him cry, but all he could think about now was how much he wanted May to hug him. 

He knew that May would be upset by the break-up. May thought of you as family and held you close to her heart so Peter didn’t know how to break the news to her.

May opened the door, the smile on her face disappearing in a matter of seconds when she saw Peter’s tear-stained face. It reminded her of when he had lost the “Stark Internship”.

Peter hadn’t even entered the apartment when he felt Mays motherly arms wrap around him. He instantly embraces May as well, his head on her shoulder as a new set of tears went down his face.

Pulling away, May held her nephew’s hand, leading him onto the couch and hugging him once more as Peter struggled to contain his sobs.

“She’s gone, May. I broke up with her.” 

She hugs Peter tighter after a slight gasp, burying her head more into Peter’s neck as she shed some tears herself. If she was feeling heartbroken by the news, she could only imagine how Peter felt.

They stayed like that for a while until she had heard Peter soft snores indicating that he had fallen asleep. A part of her wanted to wake him up to tell him to go rest in his room, but as she looked at his unconscious state, she thought that she’d let him sleep. 

Because she knew that when Peter was asleep, he wouldn’t feel the heartbreak. So she’d let him be, and she'd wait until he was comfortable telling her the reason for the break up. 

---

Peter woke up panting. His chest was rapidly going up and down and sweat was covering his body. And despite his sweating, the hairs on his arm and on the back of his neck stood upwards. 

His head frantically looked around the room, his eyes tearing up and rapidly looking at his surroundings. He didn’t know why, but his senses were heightened and his brain was going a thousand miles per hour. 

Everything felt very overwhelming and he didn’t know how to handle it. It’s never been this bad for him before. He felt like he was having a panic attack and sensory overload at the same time.

It was about 5 o’clock when he woke up on the couch with a blanket covering his body. The jolt of what felt like electricity spread all over his body and he was shaking and thrashing around on the couch.

At this point he tears were streaming down his face and his clothes were soaked in sweat. He was crying, and he was sure that he would wake up May.

His theory was proven to be correct when his aunt came rushing out of her bedroom shouting his name and repeatedly asking him if he was ok.

Peter barely felt May gently cupping his face so she could see him better because to him, everything was a blur. His whole body was on fire.

Even when May started slightly shaking him to get his attention, it didn’t work and he was still in pain. He couldn’t see May’s face properly through the tears in his eyes and May was starting to panic.

She didn’t know what was happening to her nephew and she was starting to tear up at the thought of Peter in this much pain.

So, she did the only thing she could think of. She sat down next to him and held his hand, gripping it slightly to try and ground Peter. 

She couldn’t do much because whenever she touched Peter’s arm or wipe his tears away, he would flinch back because of how overwhelming it was to feel a tiny bit of friction on his skin.

As May held his hand, she whispered reassuring words to Peter to try and calm him down. It was no ordinary panic attack. Peter had had anxiety attacks before but it was never like this. Whenever his senses would act up, it wasn’t ever this bad.

“Pete, everything’s okay. I’m here and you’re safe,ok? Nothing to worry about.” The tone is her voice was laced with fear as she whimpered those words and her eyes started to blur with unshed tears.

Slowly but surely though, Peter’s breathing was starting to become normal, and his loud cries were starting to diminish. Seeing him calm down put a smile on May’s face. She bit her lower lip to try and stop a sob from escaping her mouth. She had to be strong for Peter.

“Hey, Peter.” she whispered shakily as she squeezed his hand a little tighter to let him know of her presence. Warily, she inched closer to Peter to try and see if it was ok for him. When he didn’t flinch, she moved to pull him into a hug and smiling when she felt Peter’s arms around her as well.

“What happened, Pete?”

“I-I, I don’t know May. Everything just felt too much.”

“Is it your Peter-Tingle?”

He giggled at that, finally feeling his senses return to normal. “I honestly don’t know May. It felt...different.”

When he let go, May reached out to ruffle his hair, smiling at him sweetly before standing up. 

“Come on. Back to bed. Looks like you need more rest than I originally thought, Peter.” She put her hand out for Peter to hold on to, and pulled him up to stand.

“I’m not sure I can get back to bed, May.” 

“Well, you should. If you can’t, I won’t force you to. Just...call me if you need anything, okay? Let’s talk about what that was some other time. You need to get some sleep.” she smiled lovingly.

“Sure, May. Goodnight”

“Good night. You sure you don’t want me to stay with you?”

“I’m pretty sure I can handle myself.”

“Whatever you say, big guy.” May said before she walked over to her room, giving him one last grin and shutting the door.

Looking at the time, Peter noticed that he had a few more hours until he had to go to school. He didn’t know whether he had it in him to go back to sleep, so he decided to use his phone and mindlessly scroll through his social media until he eventually fell asleep. 

It hurt to see pictures of him and Y/N together because for a moment, he had forgotten about the break up. He had forgotten about what had happened less than 24 hours ago. It hurt more to be suddenly reminded of it.

When he saw your pictures together, it brought back good memories that only made him feel pain. He didn’t like how the happy moments of your past relationship brought him heartache. It all felt too much and tears once again filled his vision.

He had ended up crying himself to sleep, hoping that he wakes up to a much better day.

---

School turned out better than Peter thought. Yes, he was still heartbroken but Ned and MJ distracted him enough to get through it. Flash didn’t seem to pay much attention to him anyway as well, which is something Peter found weird but also something he highly appreciated.

He decided to take a break from his Patrols in order to cope a little better, but if he was being honest, he missed going to the compound. He even talked about it with May and she happily agreed, thinking that her nephew should take a well-deserved break.

After about a week, he was feeling good and he found himself getting over you way quicker than he originally thought. Of course, he didn’t ignore the fact that Queens seemed to have missed their friendly neighborhood Spider-Man but he’d be back to his duties after a few more days.

For the first time in a while he was actually having a really great time at school because he didn’t need to think about any of his superhero responsibilities. He guesses that he just forgot that this was life before the spider bite.

But it was also his life before Y/N.

It was weird for him that he seemed to have gotten over you in a matter of 2 weeks and it was especially strange for Ned and May. They knew how much Peter loved you, and his recent behaviors were something they didn’t expect.

They could obviously see his sudden interest in MJ and it was driving them up the wall. They supported him, but they didn’t support how he seemed to act like he was never in a relationship with you.

For Peter though, it’s been a quiet 2 weeks. Save for Flash’s annoying remarks towards him and the… attacks?

On and off for straight two weeks he would have some sort of anxiety attack or sensory overload of some sorts. After the first one happened at their apartment, it occurred almost every day.

He had noticed a pattern to it.

He always woke up in a cold sweat every 4 or 5 in the morning, then everything would get overwhelming at 7 or 8 at night.

But those weren’t the worst parts.

What he hated the most was the pain that he would feel at any time of the day. He once thought he burned his arm during History class and at times he would feel like he got punched. Whether it be on his stomach, his face, his side it would happen randomly. 

He hadn’t told May in fear of making her worry, but he had to tell someone. So naturally, he told Ned.

It was something he had been trying to figure out for the past weeks. Something was messing with his senses early in the morning and at night. 

It was something he made up to be withdrawal from almost every night patrol to none at all. 

But he didn’t know what to think about the body pains.

“Maybe it’s your spider powers evolving?” Ned asked. 

He had invited Ned over at his apartment to originally talk about MJ but he couldn’t hide anything from Ned. It was killing him to keep it to himself.

The random aches were getting worse so it might as well actually kill him if he doesn’t figure out what’s happening. 

After a few minutes of contemplation, he exploded and told Ned everything. And if Ned was being honest, he couldn’t take the MJ talk. He supported his best friend, but he didn’t think that moving on to someone else when his break up with you was still fresh was a good way to move on so he didn’t really mind the subject change.

“I thought about that, but I’m not even sure if that can happen. And if my powers are evolving, why would it make me have random body pains?” Peter argued.

“Maybe it’s part of the process.” Ned shrugged.

“No, Ned.” Peter slowly stood up from his place on his desk chair and began pacing, his hands gesturing wildly as he spoke. “It feels like… I don’t know! It doesn’t feel like my body’s changing. It feels like it’s coming from external forces. Like that time I felt like I was being electrocuted, or that time where my stomach felt like it was being punched. The worst was when… was when I would feel needles on my skin then my whole body would feel like it was on fire.” 

Neds stands up and places his hands on Peter's shoulders, making Peter look up at him with tears in his eyes

“Peter, calm down.” Ned began as he slowly let go of Peter’s shoulders. “Can’t you call Bruce Banner or something? Or— what about Doctor Strange? Maybe they’ll know what to do.”

“It’s not that easy Ned. I’d have to go to the compound and—”

“And see YN?” Ned interjected.

Peter could only look away in guilt. He’d take all of the pain as long as he didn’t have to see you. He opens his mouth to say something, but quickly gets interrupted by his phone ringing.

He grabbed his phone from his desk and looked at the caller I.D and upon realizing that it was Bruce, he answered.

“Hey Mr. Banner! I actually have to tell you something—”

“You can tell me when you get here, Pete” Bruce’s voice was stern. It was demanding.

“Where? At the compound?” He answers, his voice slightly wavering at the thought of possibly seeing you again. 

“No. Wakanda. We’ll send Strange and—”

“Wait, wait, wait. Wakanda?! Why??”

There was a moment of silence between the two. A worried sigh was heard through the phone after a few moments followed by two words that made Peter’s heart stop.

“Y/N's missing.”

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

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[monchikyun]

XIX. never let me go

Connor would love nothing more than to just initiate stasis and enjoy the current moment, the same way Gavin does. Seemingly at peace, the man clings to his body like the android is his favourite teddy-bear. His heart-rate is steady, breathing is even. No nightmares are raging behind those closed eyes, and Connor can’t help but feel a bit jealous. Not of Gavin, specifically, but people in general. People who have the ability to sleep and let themselves be carried to a world of their mind’s own creation. Sure, it might not always be a pleasant experience, but no matter what one’s brain decides to show its owner, they still have the ability to escape the reality of their waking life. Connor’s version of a shut-eye is nothing like the one in which humans get to lose themselves. When he enters his so-called sleep-mode, everything just… stops existing to him. It’s more like a small, temporary death. He can’t believe that several months ago he wished to never leave that state, to be allowed to interrupt himself from living, permanently. 

Not just then, though. It’s not like he didn’t hold his gun close to his then active LED only days before the start of December. It’s not like he still doesn’t fantasise about the sweet embrace of the eternal void at times when there's nothing or no one to distract him. 

Like now. Although he technically has a company right next to him, accumulating their mutual heat, he senses he’s missing out on something important. Due to Connor being a machine, there are many things they won’t be able to do together, and he thinks that it’s fine, that he doesn’t have to try and force himself to adapt his being to that of his partner’s. Gavin wouldn’t most likely appreciate it if Connor went ahead and got himself some of the new updates that have been designed to make android appear more organic anyway. 

He quite likes his own body, likes that he doesn’t have to waste money that he doesn’t have on food and other necessities he can function without.  

Gavin shifts, though almost imperceivably, still, he strokes the side of his face, relishing in the warm tickling of his breath against his bare neck. As he’s now, all safe and almost tranquil, all he can contemplate about is their possible future. His own demise hasn’t even crossed his mind. It hasn’t done so in a while, maybe not since their first proper hug. Having a close, nurturing relationship is one of the healthiest things one can do for themselves, he is well aware of this fact, but that doesn’t mean that all his previous doubts are suddenly gone. 

They haven’t even talked about what they wanted to call each other. To Connor, the title of a best friend is more than enough. He doesn’t need anything else. Maybe he’d like it, but it’s far from being a priority. Things are near perfect as they are. As long as they’re together… a condition which presents the biggest issue. The ugly truth that he’s been trying to hide from. 

His entire mental stability depends on the presence of one person. He realises that’s wrong and probably dangerous, still, he doesn’t care. Why shouldn’t he rely on someone for happiness, isn’t that what humans have done since the beginning of their time on Earth? Seek out company and with that, reassurance?  

Connor is no different. He just needs someone to stay close, and the right person just happens to be his irritable partner. 

He wants to say that he’s certain that Gavin won’t ever let him go, but how can he be, really. Anything can happen. The man can die tomorrow and then what would Connor do. Look for another company like a dog that has lost its master? No, he thinks himself pathetic enough that he would just give up on everything, including any and all socialisation. The pathway towards leaving this bane of existence would be wide open to him, and he would be more than willing to step on it. It has been terrifying enough seeing the possible funereal of his soulmate and now he’s back on a similar track of thoughts. He should be used to it by now, to his inner unrest and all the gunk that comes with it, but he still can’t keep calm, not even a semblance of it. He lets himself spiral down to the horror-infested basement of his mind too easily, and getting himself out is all but simple.  

Luckily, there is help available right beside him, currently beginning to stir lightly in his arms. Maybe he could make it into a valid excuse for waking him up. 

“Gavin.” He starts with a quiet whisper, not enough to disturb even the lightest of sleepers. 

The man mumbles something that has little to do with any words known to men and takes a breath through his nose, a sign that his first attempt might have been successful after all.

“Are you still asleep?” Connor dares to increase the volume of his voice, hoping to make his awakening as pleasant as could be, while not appearing to be the selfish one who would interrupt his well-needed rest just because he feels a bit sad. Or scared. Panicked, perhaps. He can’t really tell, emotions are not really his area of expertise. He just knows that he can’t focus on anything but the turmoil of bleak images overwhelming his entire self. There are tears forming in his eyes, his first natural response to everything that reminds him of the finality of death. He really is weak, isn’t he. A weak little robot not coming to terms with the concept that is the circle of life. 

“You tryin’ to suffocate me?” comes a small, breathless question, bringing him back to the grungy motel room that has become their safe haven for these past several days. 

He can’t relate the words to anything that’s presently happening, at least not for a couple of seconds. Then he notices that he has been clutching Gavin to his own body using too much strength without a conscious choice to do so. He immediately releases the struggling man, giving him a needed space to catch his breath. The loss of direct contact makes him almost shiver with something unidentifiable, like there’s ice forming on those places that were being warmed by human touch. His eyes are darting everywhere but his friend, hands gripping the sheets like he needs to hold onto something lest he floats away. The unspoken apology stuck in his throat, stubbornly refusing to get out of there.

It's not the first time he goes through something like this, though there is usually no one around to witness this inconvenient state of mind. He isn’t sure what to call this, not sure if it really matters.

 Right now, he's just immensely grateful that there is someone with him. He loathes having to deal with it on his own. 

"What's wrong?" the man in question asks, careful gentleness embedded in his voice. He places his palm on Connor's shoulder ever so tentatively, like the android has suddenly lost his integral structure. If he has, he'd need every bit of support to rebuild it back. A small touch like that is not nearly enough. But he takes what he can get. 

"More visions?" 

"I… I don't know. Just… I think telling you about the accident broke something in me. I can't… I can't stop picturing all the worst scenarios and… it hurts. I keep preconstructing both mine and your death and it’s making me go crazy." 

Gavin puts his arm around his shoulders before he finishes talking. He immediately leans into the contact, being glad that for once he is able to abstain from crying. 

"Maybe you weren't ready to-" 

"No, no I'm glad I told you. It's not that." 

He assumes time has little to do with his current situation. It's been almost a year and the pain still drowns him. Not always, but as soon as he's about to forget, something grabs his leg and pulls him deep under. 

He gathers his courage and pulls Gavin into yet another embrace. He really must have been touch-starved, only now getting his supply of what would be the android equivalent of oxytocin. 

"I'm sorry to say this but I came to the conclusion that…" he pauses to second guess his confession, only to decide that revealing this part of himself would only be advantageous to his healing process in the long run. 

"I need you."

 It surprises him how easily those words have come out. How it doesn't make Gavin's body flinch in the slightest. 

"I realise that it's not right nor fair, but-" 

"Shhhh," he places his hand on Connor's mouth, like that would stop him from vocalising his sentiments. Still, it takes him off guard and he obliges, "Shut up, Con." 

This time it's Gavin who does the squeezing. 

"I get it, I get it."  His reassurance strokes his soul and drapes it in budding calmness. 

“I’m never letting you go, I promise.” He isn’t sure what exactly Gavin means by that, but it still turns the unsightly pain inside of him into something less so. Something he would dare call beautiful.

“Hell, you’re only a one-year-old, of course you need someone to look after you.” That manages to elicit a chuckle out of him, which in turns makes Gavin place a sweet kiss on his cheek. 

Connor thought that he’s given the man all the love that he has before he finds out that feelings aren’t a constant. 

Love always changes, always shifts around. In his case, it’s growing like a garden blessed by spring’s good weather. He’s one of the lucky ones, ones who are able to keep its light-source near. 

It’s hard not to smile now when he finally understands. And why wouldn't he, really, when the world sits within his arms.

-----

it seems this fic is 50% two broken idiots in bed thinking, occasionally talking, and when we’re lucky, snuggling

#convin #aconvinnewyear #low-temperature burn #another late night thoughts chapter #i don't think I can ever write something else :D #sorry if you're getting tired of these #connie has a panic attack >:{

[thatesqcrush]

Tie You Up

Sonny Carisi x Reader. Summary: You decide to spice things up with Sonny.  

CW: NSFW - we gon’ get freaky with our Cannoli. This has language, bondage, spanking, orgasm denial, and role-play. 

WC: 3595

Tags: @melsquared79 @madpanda75 @tropes-and-tales @neely1177 @amirightcounselor @mrsrafaelbarba @skittle479 @ottosuricato @delia26 @sass-and-suspenders @glimmerglittergirl @dreila03 @mommakat32 @garturbo @lovebennycolon @imjustreallynosy​ @whyissvuruiningmylovelife @sweetsummertime99 @evee87 @scarlettsoldier​ @cesarofangirl78 @redlipstickandblacktea​ @redlipstickandplaid​ @zoeykaytesmom​ @differentshadesofgray​ @misssirenlove​ @letty-o​ @esparza-army​ @bananas-pajamas​ @trekinthruthestarwars @mishaissocoollike​ - anyone else just ask, xo 

***

“Sonny, this is the fifth late night in a row,” you whined into the receiver. “I am starting to think you are purposely avoiding me.”

“Babe, you know it is not like that,” Sonny replied, rubbing his forehead. “I have this big case and this lawyer –”

“Buchanan,” you interrupted.  

“Right, he takes no shit. He’s a formidable defense attorney. He used to give Barba lotta grief. I just want to make sure I have all my ducks in a row. I am still pretty green to all of this and I don’t want to give him any advantage.”

“I know; I am sorry to be giving you grief. I just … miss you,” you sighed, as you folded your laundry. “I’m lonely.” You waited a beat before continuing; your voice was a near whisper. “And horny.”

Sonny shifted in his seat, your words shooting straight down to his cock. “I know babe. I am too. I promise I will make it up to you. Tomorrow is Friday – we have opening statements and then I will be free for the whole weekend.” 

“Okay,” you replied. “Come to my place. I’m working until noon and then taking a class until 3; we can get a head start to the weekend.” 

“Oh, that’s right. How are ya classes?”

“Going really well. Learning a lot,” you replied. “See you soon.”

“Perfect. Love you doll.”

“Love you too. Good luck tomorrow. I can’t wait to hear all about it.”

You and Sonny had an active, healthy sex life. Despite the busy schedules you both had - sometimes it felt as if you were passing ships - you both made sure to make each other a priority and regularly had sex.

What Sonny didn’t know was that after a night with your girlfriends where the talk steered into beyond 50 shades, your curiosity got the best of you and you became slightly infatuated with Kinbaku - Japanese bondage. Kinbaku involves tying someone using simple but intricate, gorgeous patterns using several pieces of rope, usually hemp or linen. The idea behind it is to use the rope as a symbol of power.

You had just finished your classes and became very proficient. The idea of tying Sonny up and having him completely at your mercy was titillating.

****

Despite being an ADA, Sonny was still, by nature a cop. So when he noticed the door to your apartment was ajar, inner alarms went off. He instinctively reached for his holster that was no longer there. “Y/N?” he called out. The apartment was pitch black and he cautiously turned on the lights.

What he saw surprised him.

There was an empty chair with a coil of red jute rope on the seat.  

“Y/N?” he called out once more.  

You cleared your throat, drawing attention to yourself. Sonny felt all the blood in his body drain and pool south. There you were, in Sonny’s dress blues – just the shirt, sans pants and a pair of black patent pumps. Your makeup was heavy – dark lined eyes and pouty red lips. Your hair was pulled back into a low chignon; it was all topped off with his service hat.  

Sonny let out a whistle. “Y/N,” he rumbled your name, his tone dark. His bright blue eyes were filled with want and desire. “What is all of this?”

You ignored him as you circled around him, taking in his appearance. Sonny wore a fitted dark charcoal grey three piece suit with an orange speckled tie. His ass looked really good and you had to control yourself from just throwing him down and climbing on top of him (even if you could, you were petite in comparison).

“There was a complaint about marijuana from the neighbors. I had to come and do a search to see if there's any illicit contraband,” you replied seriously. You felt corny with your prepared dialogue and hoped Sonny would play along.

“I hope you have a warrant for that; I know my rights,” Sonny replied, stifling a chuckle as he began to remove his suit jacket.  

“Uh-uh, keep your hands where I can see them,” you replied sternly. Sonny cocked a brow as he shrugged his jacket back on, his hands raised in front of his chest.  

You helped him out of his jacket, tossing it on the couch. Sonny began to protest, knowing his jacket would wrinkle but you gave him a stern look which instantly quieted him. You then quietly began to roll up the sleeves of his white dress shirt.  

Sonny towered over you, being six feet tall. Yet from day one all you knew of him was as a gentle giant. You met while he was taking evening classes at Fordham - you literally fell into his arms on a very crowded 1 train that jerked to a stop after someone pulled the emergency cord. Your coffee spilled everywhere. At the time he was a 3L at Fordham Law and you were at nearby Fordham getting your advanced certificate in advanced faith formation and Christian spirituality.

After a few more causal run-ins on the subway – you always had a habit of getting on and off around the same spot on the platform (something Sonny later warned you to not do), Sonny asked you out for coffee. It was near instant love as he regaled you with stories of working for the 16th over napoleons and coffee and you challenged and piqued his mind on the complexities of faith, something that he struggled with given the nature of his work.

After you rolled up his sleeves, you stood on your tiptoes to press a small kiss to the corner of his lips. You removed the rope from the seat. “Take a seat,” you commanded, patting the empty chair. Sonny sat, his hand rested on his chin, his long fingers covered part of his mouth, which was twitching into a smile. He was eager to see how this all played out.  

“I have a warrant – right here,” you replied unbuttoning your – well Sonny’s – shirt. Under his dress blues, you wore a sheer tulle embroidered bodysuit with a thong back and an open gusset. It was embroidered with marijuana leaves. You saw it hanging in the window display of a storefront near where you took your class; it was practically kismet. The embroidered leaves covered you strategically but left very little to the imagination.

Sonny felt his cock twitch as he drank you in; his pants became uncomfortably tight. “Oh my, be still my heart.”

You sat on Sonny’s lap and without hesitation, his hands were all over you. You pulled away, standing once more. “Oh no. You made me wait for almost a whole week. You can wait a little more.” Sonny knew he was in for a long night.

“Come on babe,” Sonny begged. “Please.” He was already incredibly turned on, his voice was stressed and it played out in his accent, the diphthong made the vowel in on, sound like awn.  

“Nope, no can do,” you replied sweetly, your voice in sing-song. Gripping Sonny’s face, you kissed him passionately. You felt his cock harden underneath you. “Oh Sonny, why didn't you disclose you had a concealed carry? I'm going to need to restrain you.” And very quickly, before his brain even registered what was happening, you had his arms tied behind his back in “teppo” also known as shouldering the rifle.  

“Y/N?” Sonny questioned, his heart beginning to race. “Whatcha playin’ at?”

You stood before Sonny and were pleased at your handiwork. “See, you thought I was taking a class on theology, but instead, I was taking a rope-play class. And I thought we could have a lot of fun with it,” you replied, shrugging off Sonny’s police shirt entirely. Sonny’s eyes nearly popped out of his head as your words registered. You sat on Sonny’s lap again and rubbed your self shamelessly, feeling his erection straining against his pants. Your eyes met and for an instant your resolve softened. “You trust me, right Sonny?”  

Sonny detected the hesitancy in your voice. “I trust you. If it gets too much, I know our word. Gabagool.”  

You smiled brightly in triumph before kissing him once more. Your tongues slid against each other; he tasted like mint and coffee. With each passing second, the kiss grew with intensity and need. You ran your hands through his silver hair as you continued to grind against his erection, eliciting repeated groans from him.  

Sonny felt helpless as his hands were tied. He felt like he was a prisoner, which he suspected was the point. He was desperate for relief and his hips jerked instinctively. You responded by getting off of him.

 “No,” Sonny whined. “I’ll stay still,” he promised. Come back.”

You dropped to your knees and spread Sonny’s legs so you were in between them. You ran your hands up his covered legs, before settling at his thighs. You scraped your nails against his thighs and you felt his muscles twitch. You fumbled with his pants, working to unbuckle his belt and unfasten the button and zipper. Sonny raised his hips slightly in an effort to help you so you could remove his pants. 

You palmed his erection through his boxers. “Oh, that's not a gun at all!” you quipped with a smirk. Sonny threw his head back and moaned. “Fuck, y/n. That feels good.”  

“Imagine how much better it would feel with my mouth on ya,” you commented, your brow cocked. Without missing a beat, you reached into his boxers and released his cock. His cock was painfully hard; pre-cum weeped from the tip. You licked your lips hungrily, desperate to suck his cock. You knew he was desperate too. Instead you spat in your hand and proceeded to give him a hand-job. “Ah fuck love,” Sonny rumbled. “Such a tease.”

“It must be so painful to have an attractive police officer like myself here, and you can't do anything about it,” you teased as your hand stroked him rhythmically. The dampness in between your legs grew and you could feel your arousal between your legs drip. You continued to work Sonny with your hand. Truly you took endless pride in knowing that you were the sole cause for him falling apart.  

“Are you going to fuck me with this cock?” 

“Yes,” Sonny hissed. His eyes were slammed shut, as he lost himself in the pleasure of your strokes.  

“Then you better not come.”  

Sonny’s eyes flew open as you removed your hand. You pushed over a chair and sat across from him. Sonny’s eyes were fixed on you as you removed your heels and spread your legs. He could see the large dark spot that had formed along the gusset of the bodysuit you wore and could smell the musky sweet scent that was distinctly yours. You spread your legs and gave Sonny an eyeful of your soaked pussy. You had recently gotten waxed, and your delicate skin glistened with your arousal. You slid a finger down your lips, before sliding a finger inside of you. Your eyes fluttered closed as you began to masturbate, your lips were parted slightly; your skin was flushed with feverish desire. Sonny’s eyes were fixated on your movements.  

“You’re such a fucking tease,” Sonny groaned. “I want to taste your pussy so badly.”  

“We’ll see,” you sang. You scooted down on the chair, so that you were on the edge of the seat. Leaning back and gripping the edge of the chair on the sides, you raised your legs so that your feet were on his thighs. You knew from past experience with Sonny that he had a bit of a foot kink, so you made sure that your feet were well taken care of and that your toes were always well-dressed, with a not a chip in the polish in sight. Your feet were perpendicular on either side of his cock, and you began to move your feet in unison as you gave him a foot-job. Sonny’s head flew back once more, and he moaned your name loudly. “Oh God, fuck, Y/N!”  

The muscles in your legs quivered as you continued to stroke his cock with your feet. Beads of sweat rolled down your face and your core trembled. It was as if you were having your own workout.  

“Keep that up babe and I am going to come,” Sonny warned. You nodded and slowed your movements before coming to a full stop.  

“I am going to remove the ropes,” you began. “Don’t try anything funny.” You sat up fully in the chair and removed Sonny’s hat, tossing it to the side. You reached behind and undid your chignon, letting your hair cascade over your shoulders.  

Walking behind Sonny, you quickly undid the ropes. Sonny groaned as his arms resumed sensation from the position they were in as the lactic acid that had previously built up began to dissipate. Sonny quickly kicked off his shoes and the remainder of his clothing while you gathered the rope together once more.  

Without warning, Sonny scooped you, throwing you over his shoulder. His hand came down on your ass with a large spank before grabbing a fistful of flesh, squeezing. “Sonny!” you squealed. “I told you not to-,” you began, warning. Another smack landed on your ass.  

“Doll, you had your fun. Now it’s my turn,” Sonny replied huskily. Sonny carried you over to your bedroom, before throwing you gently over onto the bed. The bed creaked with Sonny’s weight. He covered his body with yours and kissed you once more. His hips rubbed against you and instinctively you raised your hips, desperate for some friction to ease the growing ache in your loins.  

You wrapped your legs around Sonny’s waist eagerly. Sonny nuzzled your neck and you moved your head to the side to provide him with greater access. He sucked on a particularly sensitive spot along your neckline and you moaned. Your eyes which had shuttered closed, opened and you saw the red rope on the bed and you deduced that Sonny had brought it in with him when he carried you in.  

You used the palms of your hands to push Sonny’s weight off of you and rolled him into his back. Straddling him, you leaned over to grab the rope and quickly tied bound his wrists together and then bound his arms over his head using a simple column knot along the bedpost.  

 Sonny let out what sounded like a combination of a sob/groan. “No, no,” you commented. “Tonight’s about what I want… and what I want, is to suck your cock.”

You bent down and gently kissed Sonny before making your way down his body, placing kisses along his body.

Your lips were plush and soft; Sonny shivered under your kisses. Finally, you reached in between his legs and without missing a beat, or even waiting for him to say anything, you took him in your mouth. Sonny wanted nothing more to wrap his hands through your hair but he couldn’t. He tugged on the restraints hoping they’d give but you had him secured.  

You rhythmically bobbed on his impressive shaft. His cock was painfully hard; the mix of his salty pre-cum and his own musky, masculine scent sent you into overdrive. As your mouth worked him, you used your hand to stroke the shaft, adding to his pleasure. Another hand went to his balls, cupping and rolling them gently. You hummed around his cock and the vibrations caused Sonny’s hips to jerk upwards in response. You continued your oral ministrations, using the flat of your tongue to run up and down the sides of his shaft. You then used the point of your tongue to flick against the underside of the head of his cock. You took your time, no rush to do anything more. Sonny groaned. “Oh fuck doll - need to -- need to --” he choked out.  

You pulled off with a very audible, wet sounding pop. Sonny’s chest rose and fell, his heart was hammering in his chest. You moved to his side, and pressed small kisses by the corner of his mouth. Sonny was quivering, sweat dripping from every pore. Some of his hair was plastered against his forehead. “I love sucking your cock,” you purred in his ear. “Makes me so… wet.”

Sonny turned his head to kiss you deeply, which you obliged. As you kissed him, you reached down to his cock and resumed jerking him off. You could feel him starting to tense and you knew he wasn’t going to last much longer so you slowly came to a stop.  

You climbed on top of Sonny, and began to remove the halter top portion of your bodysuit. “Leave it on,” Sonny replied, his normally bright blue eyes were heavy lidded and blown with lust. “You look so fucking hot.”  

You cocked your head and nodded, before rising up slightly to reach down and guide him inside of you. Sonny let out a string of curses in Italian as you sighed, blissfully feeling full. Languidly you began rocking and bouncing against him. Sonny grunted as your pussy gripped his cock tightly like a vice.  

“Oh Dominick,” you moaned obscenely and loudly, not caring if your neighbors heard. “I fucking love your cock.” You knew from past experience calling Sonny by his name always gave him an extra oomph. Your head fell forward as you dug your nails into his chest, leaving crescent marks on his skin.  

Sonny grunted as you rode his cock. He was desperate to touch you. It was driving him absolutely mad that he couldn’t. “Please,” he begged. “Baby girl I want to make you feel so good.”  

You opened your eyes and met Sonny’s eyes. You nodded. “Okay.” Slowly you climbed off of Sonny and on very wobbly legs, loosened the rope. Sonny grimaced as his arms began to regain their function. Standing fully in front of you, Sonny drank you in once more. Your eyes raked Sonny from head to groin, and somehow seeing his cock coated in your cream made you even more aroused.   

There was a glint in Sonny’s eyes and he gave you a very knowing smirk. You stood against the bed, waiting to see who would move next. Sonny did - he took one step and grabbed you by the outsides of your thighs. Before you knew it, you were flat on your back on the bed, your ankles hoisted in the air. Sonny stroked cock against your labia, coating his cock with more of your arousal. “Look how wet you are for me. Dimmi come ti piace scopare.” Sonny slowly sunk back into you, balls deep. The lewd mixture of moans and skin on skin filled the room as he pounded into you, bumping your cervix with each snap of his hips. Sonny turned his attention to one leg and pressed kisses before gently grazing your skin with his teeth.  

“Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God,” you babbled incoherently. You reached down to rub your clitoris in concentric circles. Sonny looked down to watch his cock disappear in and out of you. He grunted as he continued to fuck you relentlessly. Your tits were straining against the bodysuit, the material provided delicate pressure against your sensitive nipples. You were completely wrecked as you were ravaged by Sonny. 

Sonny all of a sudden dropped his full weight on top of you. His arms braced the side of your head and your legs hooked around his hips. You kept rubbing your clit while another hand gripped a bicep. Sonny bent his head to your ear and grunted something in Italian - “Scopami, si cosi mi piaci cosi” you weren’t sure what it was but it sounded sexy as hell. Sonny’s own thrusts became erratic and soon he stiffened - one hand grabbed at your clothed breast as he released his seed into you. “That’s right, give it to me baby, give me that cream.”  It was all too much and the coil in your belly snapped. You wailed Sonny’s name as your pussy clenched around his cock. Sonny groaned your name,  shuddering as his release came to an end. You both laid there, still intimately connected, desperately trying to catch your own respective breaths. Your legs felt like jello and slowly you brought them back to the bed. 

Your eyes felt hazy and you were ready to drift back to sleep, when you felt your legs spread open once more. Sonny was in between your legs. “I want one more,” he rasped and before you could protest, his tongue was in between your folds. You threw your head back onto the bed, groaning as his tongue did indescribable, wonderful, magical things. You gripped his head tightly against you. Your body was overstimulated yet, you were in dire need to come again. Sonny reveled in the mix of your sweet juices and his own release. “You gonna come again for me sweet girl? Sborrami in faccia.” Sonny dove back into your folds, eating you out as if he was a starving man. You sobbed, writhing against his tongue and nose as another orgasm coursed through you. Sonny continued to lick you through your release until you finally stopped shuddering. Sonny peppered kisses along your skin, before cozying up next to you once more. You turned over to face Sonny and you placed a soft kiss on his lips. 

 “I love you Sonny.” A goofy, sleepy smile graced his face. 

 Holding you close, he whispered “I love you Y/N. Cazzo e stato incredible. Facciamolo ancora.”

FIN.

***

Translations:

Dimmi come te piaci scopare:  tell me how you like it.

Si cosi mi piaci, cosi: Omg, you feel so good

Scopami: Fuck me.

That was amazing: Cazzo e stato incredible.

Let’s do it again: Facciamolo ancora,

#sonny carisi x reader #carisi x reader #carisi and reader #sonny carisi smut #sonny carisi and reader #sonny carisi imagine

[ulfahalifah13]

How to Overcome Creative Block?

The creative block has become a problem for many people in various professions. It is a condition where a person becomes creatively slow and cannot make a new work. People who suffer from this condition feel that they cannot write or think of something from their minds, whether it is about original ideas. It has been often stated that creative block might have a prolonged effect that lasts for days or even years. This uncomfortable state of mind might cause an emotional instability that will negatively impact work productivity even further.

There have been recounts and documents about how creative block affected famous people and professionals throughout history, even though the term is known in later eras. Each profession usually has its way of addressing creative block, and one of the most common is “writer’s block” for writers or “blank canvas syndrome” among artists and designers.

Before we go into the solutions for this condition, it is also essential to know the creative block’s cause. It is because not all creative blocks are started from the same problem. We can adequately think and choose the possible solution to our specific creative block type in this manner.

Mental barrier

In this case, the person usually makes assumptions and the possibility of a goal limiting our options. Let us say we want to write down several paragraphs that explain our own fictional character’s personality. Suddenly, at different times. We focus on designing the world first merely because we think it is more fundamentally important than a mere character description. It will repeat until we are too confused about which one is the priority. We are overly critical with our minds.

Emotional barrier

One word that resonates well with this type of problem is probably fear. Whether it is writing, painting, singing, or dancing, we enter into a territory that we are not familiar with. It brings anxiety and fear within us, especially if we try to show what we do to others. Did you feel so nervous before you even began your first public speech? That might be one of these types of cases. We are too concerned with “what will happen,” and we form a self-resistance known as fear.

Personal adversities

How do we even start working correctly if we have things in our real life that take our attention much more than our goal? The death of a relative, dealing with abusive partners, or even health problems takes a toll on our minds, and we are in no position to work effectively with those circumstances around. The worst possibility is that these problems could come simultaneously and how unfortunate that would be.

Ineffective work attitude

When someone puts up a routine, it does not mean we will also be able to do it to the same extent. The creative process might not be suitable for us, yet we are still trying to do it, exhausting ourselves in a deceiving self-belief that it is all a matter of adjustments. Or perhaps, you have other daily routines that intersect with your profession. You sleep too late only to wake up so late that you barely have the time to begin your regular activities before doing your work. This habit will create a sense of suffocation and rush, limiting the brain’s ability to do creative thinking.

Overwhelming projects

There is a song entitled “Too Much is Never Enough” by Florence +  The Machine, but we all know that too much is not right. We put ourselves in a situation where many demands and information surround us.  In other words, we work too hard. It is increasingly difficult to focus on your particular work if you are all over the place and too tired to continue after finishing only one where the rest awaits.

After looking at several examples above, we can try to look at some solutions that we can do to counter these causes that lead to creative block. There could be many other exceptional cases beyond the scope I have given to you. Below are the possible ways you can do to overcome creative block:

Find new inspiration and perspective

We are fed up with assumptions while getting stuck in an endless cycle of limiting ourselves. Then, it is time for us to start fresh and renew our view. Go outside, read a new book, or watch a movie that can trigger an idea that pops out an “oh hey…” to you. If it is also possible, find someone with who you can have a discussion and ask for feedback without them merely keeping agreeing to your point of view all the time. It will also become a form of self-evaluation to identify your weakness and utilize your superior attribute.

Learn to deal with fears

We learn this one the hard way. There might be many things that can help you with it as well, such as motivation counsel from others or personal training, but in the end, we will end up facing the very fear itself. Stop being paralyzed with the “what if…” questions and do something to see its end. When that already happens, you can start talking to yourself through it and reward yourself with clarity of the work you have finally done. The emotional barrier in the creative block is one of the most common ones to be found in society, yet it has a simple solution to find. Of all things, you might also want to remember again why you start doing your creative work in the first place.

Learn about time management

If we get used to less important matters, then we must learn to make priorities. Identify which one that we must do first and which one can come later. We then arrange them as a recurring schedule. Of course, we are in charge of balancing the time for our responsibilities and our needs. Don’t overwork ourselves to spare a few times in a day to take a break. Even if you do have accidental events, it would be much easier to manage your schedule and fit them incorrectly if needed when you have neat time management.

Find the time to deal with personal problems

Among many issues in creative thinking, we only have few solutions for this particular one. You take a break from your work and focus on your adversities that you need to deal with. Do whatever you can in your power to solve things calmly, and if you cannot, find help from family, friends, or professionals. It seems possible to fix personal problems during creative thinking by coping with the pain until you finish your work. The former, of course, is much more favorable even though it might cost you your time. Either way, you do things for your good. Make a count of the choice you make when you commit to that option.

Know when to say no to requests

If this your leading problem, we need to selectively choose the demands and the ones we matter to the most. Our hands are full, but other requests keep coming at you? Say no. Do not be fooled with your facade of reliability. We are not a computer, and we limit the sheer amount of work that we can take. If we know how to refuse others’ demands politely, we will show them that we have a degree of self-worthiness and privilege. It also gives us enough space to recollect our thoughts about our creative work. Be honest with your clients about it, and you will do much better.

Learn to improve your social networking skills

This solution relates to creative workings where we work with a partner or in a team of multiple participants. No matter how we look at it, we need to learn communication skills for this situation. Introvert or extrovert is not a reason to shut ourselves from the world if we strive to succeed. There will also be a benefit where you can influence others with your perspective showing that you have an idea worth mentioning without fear of rejection. Even if they do reject it, be open to criticism and humble yourself. Take a look at where the disagreement takes place and solve it together.

Train yourself with new skills to refresh 

Improving the skills that stand out to refresh your mind are a great way to bolster your resume, especially when taking the initiative to develop yourself. You can surf anything on the internet these days. Many other websites are given to teaching specific skill-sets like Coursera, Udemy, or edX. Learning how to be a PowerPoint designer in creating presentation templates can add your experience to your portfolios. You'll demonstrate versatility and creativity.

Conclusions

All points mentioned above are general notions that we often encounter in the actual process of creative working, whether it is writing or others. Once again, the creative block appears depending on one’s own issue with it, and the solution is also unique to each and sometimes related to one another. Something that we think worth mentioning is that creative block is common and quite normal among us. In the end, what matters is how we overcome it, and we hope this article provides you a bit of help to deal with your creative block.

See my PowerPoint project’s portfolios: https://rrslide.com/freebiestemplates

#self-improvement #creativeblock #digitalmarketing #contentwriter #designers #copywriter #graphicdesign

[tobiomlk]

those tsukki fluff hcs? i am LIVING. could i get general dating hcs for tobio? 👉👈 good luck with your blog - 🐸

— kageyama as your boyfriend

LISTEN kageyama has a condition where brain is filled by (2) things: volleyball and food. relationships? that doesn’t exists. you’re gonna need either a miracle or a saint’s patience to get anywhere with this nerd, whichever works best for you.

i hope you’re well aware that your luck is on a negative count from the get-go, since 1) his knowlodge about romance is next to none and 2) he’s dense as fuck. even if he’s the one to develop feelings first, he wouldn’t act on those any sooner because he doesn’t even gets what’s going on. he just goes ( ??? ) whenever you smile at him and there’s this funny feeling around his ribcage and he’s 100% sure it’s hunger. so, unless you have the guts to fess up first… get ready to simp over this boy for the longest time.

that or until his teammates ( namely, suga ) do a divine intervention ‘cause damn, he’s so grossly in love, and if kageyama was already in the dark we fucking lost him, because what does it means to be in love??? that’s not a position or a game tactic as far as he’s concerned.

he even goes as far as to seek the textbook definition on dictionaries and spiel to himself like a damned mantra in the hopes he’ll get it but guess what? he doesn’t. if anything, he just further confused with the poor intent of describing such abstract concept with big words.

the whole process of realization is so agonizing and infuriatingly slow, it has gotten to the point where all da fucking team is up to date with the tragedy and they’re even making bets as to how it’s going to end ( tanaka and noya are putting all their money to kageyama not ever knowing about his feelings, ennoshita and the third-graders still have a bit of hope for their son. the first-graders are just enjoying the shitshow. )

but when it finally hits him… that there’s no better place than the one by your side and he couldn’t possibly have it otherwise… then it’s over for both of you.

once tobio is set his way, there’s no stopping him. hell, he might as well blurt it out as soon as he sees you, for all he cares. “it seems like i’ve fallen in love with you”.

but now you returning his feelings??? the most unrealistic and unlikiest scenario. his monkey brain definitively didn’t think out this far and now he’s in shambles. you’ve to spent half of an hour explaining to him that, all of it apparently means that you can be “a couple or something” and you can literally see his braincells combusting through his eyes.

are you going to clown him for his confession for the rest of his life? yes. do you hold the moment close to your heart regardless? Yes You Do.

needless to say, kageyama as a partner is awfully awkward. the boy’s barely familiar with platonic relationships, dating it’s like walking blindfolded onto unknown territory. he’s going to need you to teach him the ropes !!! ( not that you’re complaining, of course you’re not complaining )

being as unapproachable and volleyball-crazy as he’s known to be, i think many people depict kageyama as someone who doesn’t fully invests himself onto his social relations, especially the non-platonic field; because yes, to kageyama, volleyball comes first and foremost, but he’s just as devoted and earnest when it comes to his teammates and friends, and more importantly, you. once there’s something that means a lot to kageyama, he’ll give everything he has to offer, and you aren’t the exception to the rule.

while volleyball still takes most of his time and that won’t change under no circumstances, you can tell he does his best to spend the scarce time he has to spare with you. juggling between his passion and his loved one is not an easy task, but kageyama knew what he was applying himself for and there’s no way he’ll be half-assing, no sir!

at the very least, he always makes sure to walk you home. even if that means he’ll have to return afterwards to the gym, because he always trains ‘til very late and there’s no way he’s gonna keep you waiting that long for him ( you keep telling him it’s fine, that you don’t mind waiting, but he doesn’t relents “no. im taking you home first, then practice. and that’s final. now come here, dumbass.” )

he also calls you every single night before heading to sleep! he can’t stay long on the phone because he needs to go to bed early for morning practice, but just being able to hear your voice… to know about you and your day… is more than enough for him.

honestly it never fails to melt your heart when he begins talking in this raspy, low voice and you can tell he’s sleepy by the way he mumbles his words so you tell him that it’s ok for him to go to sleep now but he just shakes his head in spite of the fact you can’t see him and goes like “i still have a couple of minutes left. i want to hear your voice.” like honestly GET FUCKED !!!!!! HE’S SO LOVELY I’M-

kageyama understands if you have different interests and things you’re passionated about ( in fact, he’ll even try it out just so he can something to share with you! ), but, truly, nothing would make this blueberry as happier than you showing the tiniest bit of interest into volleyball. sometimes, the topic creeps onto your talk and unavoidably, tobio switchs to full nerd mode and starts geeking out about the matches and stuff and he’s just so giddy about it but then he freezes, and realizes he might be info-dumping you about something you probably don’t even care about, so he kinda cuts himself before going on… but the look of sheer happiness he offers you when you encourage him to go on? how his big, doe-eyes lit up once you ask him to explain you more carefully? can you possibly fathom how joyous it makes him to know he can get the best of his favorite things together?

to be honest, you’d expect him to be less considerate and act more fit of the self-centered, entitled king role he has been granted— not saying that he doesn’t slips and has his bossy moments of no filter, because he does, but the thing is: he’s surprisingly open to your opinions, too. over time, he’s been taught that communication is of utmost importance and the only way to understand others and have them understand you, and he’s firmly sure that applies to every aspect of his life. he wants you to know that, just as he speaks his mind, you’re free to do the same.

it’s ok if you argue, it’s ok if your points of view don’t match, because that means you’re talking to each other, and that’s way better than letting things sink without actual closure. kageyama learnt that the rough way. his speech might not be the most articulated or refinated, but he tries his best to get his points accross without unecessarily hurting your feelings. communication is so crucial to him, please, keep it in mind.

with that being said, kageyama’s prone to be unromantic and even insensitive at times with how he voices his opinions, because he’s no concept of sugar-coating and won’t hesitate to tell you if you suck at something, or flawlessly ignore your efforts to put on a lovey-dovey mood. but if you talk him about it and express that you’d like him to have some more tact, he’ll take the note! “tact? ok, ok. i’ll.  try to be as tactful as possible from now on and… read the mood? but i make no promises” ( spoiler alert: he keeps telling you that you suck but now he lets you have a sip of his milk and pets your head to soften the blow. )

and speaking of physical affection… god, kageyama is an utter stranger to pda. i mean, the boy is just a prude, unripe blueberry. he doesn’t know how it works, he’s not used to it, and the last thing he wants is to go and do something that’ll put you on a tough spot. your comfort is one of his main priorities, so you have to let him know what’s ok and whatnot, then he’ll start getting the hang of it. once he does, you’ll find out that kageyama is, as a matter of fact, one of the most touch-starved persons you’ll come accross with.

he just can’t seem to get his hands off of you, in the most literal and non-sensual way possible. be it small gestures like your hands brushing together, shoulders bumping, or your heads resting against each others’, kageyama just craves the feeling of your skin against his. despite how bad he denies it, he’s pretty clingy.

you’ve picked on how much he apparently enjoys holding hands, and petting your head, for that matter. you don’t know why, but his hand would always makes its way atop your head. it has even gotten to the point in where he does it out of habit, and when you ask him what’s wrong he just replies “nothing? why do you ask?”

i think kageyama has two stages while he’s on a relationship. the earlier ones, where he cannot lock eyes with you for more than give seconds before going all blushy and stiff, and the advanced ones, in where physical contact has practically become a must and one of his primary functions as a human being to operate naturally.

kageyama’s hugs are so freaking awkward at first… there’s no guides about this. does he just envelops you with his arms ??? and then stay still like that ??? what if he hurts you by holding you too tight ??? oh my god he’s even holding his breath while he’s at it SOMEONE FREE HIM-

and don’t even get me started on the kisses. LISTEN YOU DEFINITIVELY CLASH YOUR TEETH DURING YOU FIRST KISS AND YOU ABSOLUTELY CANNOT CHANGE MY MIND ON THIS ONE !!!!! knowing him, he needs weeks of mental preparation and advice from his god-send suga-senpai before going for it, and when the moment comes… he goes too hard for literally no reason and right after you’re both on the floor whimpering ‘cause that shit HURTED.

“ow, ow… tobio WHAT the HELL” “oh, PISS OFF”

well, at least he has an excuse for rehearsing!!! don’t worry, he’s a fast-learner ;))))

cuddling is just about the same you guys spend all day squirming in order to find a comfortable position and it’s just a mess™ of limbs and giggles.

“wait… maybe if i put my arm around here…” “wait, tobio, you’re tickling me-” “??? don’t laugh !!! STOP LAUGHING THIS IS NOT FUNNY”

but once you finally manage to settle down, god, it’s so pure… kageyama loves to have you in his beefy, setter arms as much as he loves being hold by you. the crook of your neck? a heavingly place for him to rest his head and which belongs to him and him only !!!

look kageyama is so weak for physical affection i’m not even kidding. all you need to calm him down is to rub his back soothingly and he’ll even forget why he was so mad about to begin with. the amount of power you hold over this boy… it genuinely surprises people to see how tame he’s when it comes to you. everyone can agree that if kageyama has a weakness, that’s you.

tobio is not the one to get particularly cheesy or romantic, everyone knows at least that much. however, he has this thing in where he genuinely voices out how great he considers you to be without batting an eyelash which of course makes you super flustered because “why are you getting so cheeky for?” “??? it’s the truth though” SHUT UP IM SOBBING.

you know how slow and oblivious your boy is, so the last thing you expect is him being able to read you as easily? it takes its sweet time, but within the years, kageyama steadily learns to understand you and how do you operate. your habits, your body language, what makes you happy or upset, he knows all of it. he can tell when something’s off just from a glance, yet he’s so nonchalant about it— like it’s obvious to know what’s on your mind. now, does he know how to act knowing this? not really, but give him props, he tries his best!

with all that has happened to him, it should come as no surprise the fact kageyama can get pretty insecure in the relationship. it’s not like he doesn’t trusts or you ( god, the boy could trust you with his life ), but you can’t blame him for letting his insecurities get the best of him. he’s just so, so afraid… that one day you’ll notice how unlikeable he truly is and you end up leaving him, like most of the people have done to him in his life…

tobio desesperately needs the reasurrance, the words of affirmation, to bask on the feeling of knowing he’s so deeply loved, and that he’s no such thing as an unlovable person. i hope you let him know that, just as he lets you know how grateful he’s for having you in his life.

all in all, kageyama can be a blunt, awkward and more than a bit dense partner, but he’s striving to become a better version of himself day by day, so, he secretely wishes you’ll put up with him a little longer.

#🐸 anon #answered #IM SORRY I GOT SO CARRIED AWAY BUT I HOPE U UNDERSTAND WHEN U FUEL MY MONKEY BRAIN WITH MY LOVE FOR TOBIO . SHE GETS SHIT DONE DKJFSGH #my heart belongs to (1) boy #hh you're so sweet froggy anon !!! i hope u know i love u and cherish u endlessly djkh #thanks for requesting! #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #kageyama x reader #kageyama tobio x reader #kageyama tobio x you #kageyama x you #haikyuu headcanons #kageyama headcanons #kageyama tobio #blueberry boy #haikyuu!! #hq!! #hq x reader #hq x you #filed under: karasuno #filed under: kageyama tobio

[thetoxiczombie]

Half Life VR But The AI are SCP

Item #: SCP 5513-J

Object Class: Safe

Special Containment Procedure: SCP 5513-J is to be contained in a single external hard drive that is to be kept in a standard locked storage locker at site ██. The hard drive containing SCP 5513-J may only be removed from storage for approved testing. 

SCP 5513-J and any computer used for testing must under no circumstances be connected to the internet.

Description: SCP 5513-J is an anomalous copy of Half Life (1998) by American video game producer Valve with non standard virtual reality compatibility.

Upon inspection SCP 5513-J appears to contain no obvious anomalies and game code is identical to standard retail copies of Half Life. Abnormalities become apparent only during game play.

SCP 5513-J seems to have some level of sentience and will speak directly to the player via in-game NPCs that present with distinct individual personalities. Whether these NPC possess their own sentience separate from the games is unknown. Currently at least eight individual personalities have been identified. 

SCP 5513-J will heavily alter game events and locations in order to accommodate the choices of these NPC.

SCP 5513-J seems to possess significant knowledge of real life events and media, presumably due to internet access prior to recovery. 

Individuals playing SCP 5513-J appear to slowly lose the ability to distinguish between themselves and the player character known of Gordon Freeman, believing they are truly living through the events of the game and reacting accordingly. 

When exiting or completing the game players seem to regain their sense of self although experiences in-game remain nearly indistinguishable from real memories.

Recovery: SCP 5513-J was brought to foundation attention when internet crawlers flagged an entry on the video game forum site ███████  by user █████ discussing what they believed to be a bugged or hacked copy of Half Life. Due to the impossible properties described by the user foundation staff immediately believed it to be anomalous and possibly the work of Anartists. The foundation seized SCP 5513-J along with the computer containing it under falsified pretense.

Partial Test Log:

Test # █

Participants: Dr. ███████, Dr. ████, D-3091

D-3091 is equipped with a █████ brand virtual reality headset connected to an isolated computer running SCP 5513-J. D-3091 is attached to wireless monitors tracking heart rate, respiration, perspiration and basic brain functions. D-3091 plays the game over four testing sessions.

The code of SCP 5513-J is monitored in real time for any change by Dr. ██████, no change is ever noted despite SCP 5513-J’s use of several models, animations and audio not present within game files.

Test Summary: D-3091 experienced a higher level of NPC interactions than other tests conducted using D-Class personnel. Several unique NPC became seemingly attached to D-3091 and traveled with him for much of the play time. One of these attached NPC appeared to become malicious towards D-3091 and replaced the final boss with a corrupt version of itself.

D-3091 exceptionally quickly believed himself to be the character of Gordon Freeman. Even after completing the game D-3091 still claims to experience lapses in which he once again believes himself to be Gordon Freeman and has great difficulty separating in game events from real ones.

During the third testing session the player character had his right hand severed above the wrist. All sensor readings and the subjects reactions suggest that D-3091 experienced this event and other instances of bodily harm as if truly injured in real life.

D-3091s experience ended with a plea from from one of the more aware NPC personalities to load the code from SCP 5513-J into another game or onto an external storage device so that the personalities may leave and live on in other things.

Attached below is a complete recording of Test # █

[TestD-3091.asf]

Addendum: Further testing has been approved but deemed not a priority.  

#half life vr but the ai is self aware #hlvrai #scp #wayneradiotv #my post #I wonder what the ven diagram of scp and hlvrai fans is? #this is just for shits and giggles honestly #since Ive been getting into scp again #I wrote this on my lunch break so uuuh quality be dammned

[writings-from-the-hart]

Writebr Intro

Writeblr Intro Time!

Hiya! This is so overdue and I apologize for that lol. I’ve been meaning to write this but school seems to always be getting in the way of just that. Writing. But here I am finally writing this! And yes my username is a pun of my own last name but I just couldn’t resist.

So basically, I really want to surround myself with other writers and have stumbled across tons of writeblr’s (I think that’s what they’re called lol). Instantly I was in love and wanted more of what the community had to offer. I’ve been a self-proclaimed “author” or writer since my early years of grade school. I was that child in the back of the class with ADHD that couldn’t sit still (the cliche bouncing leg and always chewed down nails) and had what my mother called an “overactive imagination”. My notebooks in high school were often filled with wild stories about “galaxies far far away” or dystopias with cruel governments ruled by dictators. Now I’m in my second year of college swamped with classes about the Psychology of criminals (or I like to call the science of murder), and trying to find time to write a novel. So the struggle is real my dudes.

A little about Me:

Hana

20

She/Her

Pisces

Asexual

Forensic Psychology Major and English with a concentration in Writing Minor

Book hoarder

Dog Mom

Vintage AF

Low Key Emo Punk because I’m no average white girl!

History nerd (Love learning about the old wars and cultures)

Movie nerd (There’s an endless stack of DVDs in my house)

Fandoms:

The Mandolorian (or the ManDADolorian)

Star Trek

Star Wars

Hannibal

X-Files

King Falls Am

Welcome to Nightvale

Transformers (Obviously not the bad movies lol. Bumblebee is baby and must be protected always.)

Good Omens

Sherlock

Lord of the Rings

Marvel (There are so many shows and movies in this category we would be here all day if I tried to list them.)

Timeless (Not sure if the fandom is still alive after what the writers did to one of our ships lol)

DC (I’m a huge Batman geek and adore Wonderwoman, but I take the good with the bad when it comes to this fandom. Especially movie-wise anymore.)

And there’s probably more but my memory isn’t working currently.

Goals?. . . maybe:

Get my novel finished (This has literally been on my To-Do List for who knows how long.)

Meet more writers/new writers.

Improve my poetry (I suck at poetry so I bad I never let it see the light of day, so I need to work on it.)

Start my bullet journal.

Wips:

Okay by now you all know I have at least 1 Wip because I mentioned getting a freaking novel done, but just as a precaution as to what I mean by Wip or Wips. I get distracted quite easily, for some odd reason my brain absolutely loves to jump from one idea to another for no absolute reason. Like WTF dude we already have an idea we’re working on why do you keep bringing all these new ones to me like stray dogs. And like any good dog Mom or distracted writer, I want to keep all the ideas/stray dogs. So, when I say Wip I mean “Look at this cool idea I came up with” and I’ll make sure to specify which one is hogging most of my time.

Renegade: Dystopian, Thriller, Post-Apocalypse, and Science Fiction.

This is my baby. Most of my free time is dedicated to adjusting plotlines, character arc’s, fixing freaking plot holes, and other important stuff other than just plain writing. I’m hoping to finish this also monster of a story by 2020 and get it published. So big stuff!  

“So tell me little wolf do you want to punish those who have wronged you?” An assassin known as the Crimson Ghost makes their way through the corrupt city-state of Ashton completing a job given to them by the Black Rose. What is a seemingly normal job though turns into something far more complicated when they stumble upon the fractions of an abandoned notebook from the past. A past the Republic is trying to desperately hide and bury no matter what. On the other side of the world in the Republic’s capital Eshar, plainly referred to as “The Prodigy” or “machine” by his superiors,  Eric Coalwood has built a life upon the ashes of his family, striving to meet the high expectations set before him by his mentor General Wolfheart. However, his life falls out of its normal day to day routine when the unexpected is asked of him. Command a task force made up of the Republic’s most wanted or his life is over. Eric doesn’t need reasons for why he must do what he has to, all he needs are orders and the Republic is more than happy to give them. Either way the clock is ticking for both the Crimson Ghost and the Republic’s prodigy and with time running out they both have two options. Either get over their different beliefs concerning the Republic or allow the world to once again succumb to war but this time nobody is going to survive it. “Legends are slippery things. For the glory that coats them hides the pain, suffering and death that created them.”

The Trouville Files: Dystopian, Thriller, Post-Apocalypse, and Science Fiction.

Not my biggest priority but definitely one of them considering the plot of this story. I mainly use this wip as a reference for Renegade because it’s actually the prequel to it. Also, it’s great to use as writing practice when I’m plagued with writer’s block for Renegade or frustrated with a plot hole. So this is my double-edged sword that does a lot of good.

“Death in these black days is neither kind nor quick.” The year is 2153, the world we know is nothing more than a wasteland strewn with the dead and a sky being choked by their ashes, not glorious and thriving but desolate and starving. The Red Death, a pandemic with a steady progression and a gruesome countdown to the demise of those infected. No one outruns it or survives it. “United we stand, divided we fall.” The Allied Nations, a totalitarian superpower, promised a united people but all they gave this world was more death and destruction. The Red Death isn’t the only thing slowly killing humanity anymore, we are in the form of the War of Broken Pacts. The spark of revolution is lit, but if it will remain so is a question asked by everyone. Does it stand a chance against the iron-fisted government holding the people in shackles? “Rebel with a cause.” Genius Medical Officer for The People’s Republic, Cyprus Ramiro works day and night in search of a cure for the Red Death exterminating hundreds, at least before this war kills him first. But he is also a man on the run and the rebellion can only shelter him for so long. “Duty over pain.” Cunning Spy and Soldier, Orion Ultor is ordered by the Allied Nations to infiltrate and gather information on the ever-growing People’s Republic. In bold letters is Search and Destroy; make a ruin of the rebellion and ensure the Allied Nations remains as it should -- unquestionably in power. No matter the cost unless he wants to suffer the consequences again. “If we fall we shall rise from the ashes like a phoenix.” They should have never met, battlefields don't make good friends. It wasn't fate, it wasn't destiny, only war throwing people together.  The Allied Nations is trying to stamp out something they fear, but can they before the Red Plague? Or will humanity find itself extinct.

Beyond his point is where I house my stray dogs/ideas

Hiraeth: Paranormal, Horror, Mystery, and Thriller.

Scooby-doo who?

Hiraeth means a homesickness for a home which you cannot return. That is how Arcane feels like she’ll never be home no matter how hard she tries to connect with her family. The closest she feels to being home is with her friends and in the worn leather seats of the van they all pitched in to buy. It all started out as a way to pass time and for all of them to escape their families because to be honest parents never understand, but it all turned sideways when a simple “ghost hunting trip” stirred something that was meant to remain buried. The truth never remains buried though, not really, somehow it will always creep back in ugly and twisted. Arcane has never felt “at home” but she’ll do whatever it takes to keep what she considers her family safe.

Sweet Dreams: Historical Fiction, Thriller, and Romance.

A literal dream turned into story plot and no I’m not kidding.

The Red String of Fate, The Lovers, and War. These are the three elements intertwined within the plot of Sweet Dreams but before anyone makes any assumptions this isn’t some chummy rom-com. There will be tears and heart strings may get yanked clean out because the angst is real. War and love never mix well, it leaves a sour taste in ones mouth and makes the mind question things it shouldn’t. Like is the woman in his dreams the same woman he sees in all his dreams? Constantly he somehow ends up spotting that same ruby red lipstick, honey golden eyes, and brunette hair laying in perfect curls. She’s everywhere except in his actual life. They say you and your soulmate share dreams, living proof of how intertwined souls are. She doesn’t believe in love or the idea of souls, not with the monsters roaming around the countryside and battlefield carrying assault rifles. Society tells her where her place is, but she disagrees and rather create her own destiny.

The Prophet: Paranormal, Thriller, Post-Apocalypse, and Science Fiction.  

A short story I can’t seem to let go or it doesn’t want to let me go, but either way, this story has the makings for something great. It also at times seems strikingly similar to Good Omens, so don’t be surprised.

There’s no anti-christ in this story, he already has a book about himself so let’s not make another one besides there are other stories that need to be told. Such as, have you ever heard of modern day prophets and I’m not talking about those people with cardboard signs saying “the end is near!” or giant churches with people preaching about the end times. No, I’m talking about a kid with messy hair and dark circles under their eyes because sleep is no longer a choice due to migraines that plague them every night. Migraines that bring weird cryptic messages that make one question their own sanity. And what happens when strange people start asking about said migraines and messages?

Virago: Fantasy, Thriller, Historical Fiction, and Romance.

I’m not a huge fantasy reader, for some reason I can’t stay invested in them, but here I am with a fantasy story in my wips. It has mages, knights, assasination plots, and one super badass general who takes zero shit from her king. That’s right women empowerment, my dudes! I don’t really have much of a synopsis inline or a plot because this is only of those wips I let rattle around in my brain from time to time. But I will say it does give me that LOTR vibe but also Game of Thrones.  

Don’t be surprised if you see my stray doggos from time to time because I will admit I love to play around with storyboards. Even if I don’t have a fully planned out plot put together for it.

And that concludes this what was supposed to be short Writeblr Intro. I hope I have peaked some of your guys’ interests because the community definitely got a hold of minee. Feel free to send me a message about anything I mentioned (even if it’s just fandom shit I don’t care) and don’t be shy. I’m a huge introvert but somehow love talking, so don’t worry it won’t be awkward and odds are I’m equally nervous about conversation lol. Also, feel free to add me to any taglist and reblog/like if you’re active and would like more Writeblr mutuals!

Happy Writing,

Writings-from-the-Hart

#writeblr #wips #writer intro #my ocs

[kumeko]

Prompt: Kiss 7: To shut up, Sylvixgrid

A/N: From the kiss prompts again! Someone picked 7, to shut up, with Sylvixgrid. I rather like the idea for this one.

Summary: Felix had only wanted a few things when he got to university: competent teachers, a quiet environment, and a room to himself. Unfortunately, Ingrid and Sylvain were determined to make the latter impossible.

…

…

…

…

Felix had been a self-sufficient child, and that wasn’t something that would change now that he was in university. Even the money his parents gave for tuition and food was carefully tracked, a portion of his wages from his part-time job allocated to repaying them. It didn’t matter how sad his mother looked, how angry his father was, nor how amused his brother acted whenever he handed over a meager check, Felix wasn’t going to owe his family a penny when he was done.

 With that said, there were a few things he expected his university to provide him. Competent teachers, a quiet study environment, and a solitary dorm room were his main priorities.

No, actually, all he really needed was a single, isolated room. Everything else he could work around, but that one thing was a must. His application to the university had listed it as the only dorm room he’d accept. Felix didn’t need any distractions when he studied.

Somehow, neither of his childhood best friends understood what that meant. No, they had to invade his room on a daily basis, and he should have known it wouldn’t be any different today, even if they had an exam tomorrow. Seated at his desk, he grumpily glanced over his shoulder to where the pair of them were seated on his bed, arguing. Because if there was one thing Sylvain and Ingrid did when they were alone, it was argue. The party boy and the student president. If they hadn’t been raised together, he was pretty sure they’d have never interacted. Well, maybe Sylvain would have forced himself on them; he never understood the words ‘no’, ‘get out’, and ‘mind your own business’. Barging into other people’s lives was a pastime for him.

 He’d expected more from Ingrid, to be honest. It wasn’t a surprise that Sylvain spent half his free time sitting outside Felix’s door, waiting for him to come back. Ingrid was supposed to be smarter than that. She was supposed to be the sensible one, keeping Sylvain at bay in dire times.

 Not joining him for his ambushes.

 Noticing his stare, Ingrid turned to him. “You think it’s stupid too, right?” she asked. Nostrils flared, cheeks red, she was the very image of irritation.

 “Oh come on, you’re going to ask the wet blanket about this?” Sylvain bemoaned, leaning back on the bed. The bedsheets were thoroughly wrinkled by now. Felix knew his brow looked the same. “It’s just a party. Some fun. Come on, you aren’t allergic to fun, are you?”

 “No, but we have an exam tomorrow,” Ingrid snapped back. “And I might be ready, but you are definitely not and I’m not having your dad calling me, crying about how you failed it.”

 “He wouldn’t…” Sylvain trailed off.

 “He would,” Felix muttered, snorting. Why wouldn’t he? It’d worked before, with Ingrid pulling up Sylvain’s grade high enough that he made it into the same university as them. She was a true miracle worker.

 “Okay, yeah, he would.” Sylvian gave in, sighing. He ran a hand through his hair. “You know, when most people get their partners to tutor them, they expect an education in biology, not in math. I have two sexy teachers, and all I get is a snorefest.”

 “But you aren’t taking biology…” Ingrid flushed a dark red as she caught the implication. She punched his shoulder, furious. “Sylvain! I was teaching you! Did you even pay attention?”

 “What did you expect from the idiot?” Felix asked dryly, pulled into the conversation despite himself. “He doesn’t take anything seriously.”

 “Hey, I take us seriously!” Sylvain retorted, pouting. “More seriously than the two of you. Come on, let’s go to the party as a date. It’s been ages.”

 “It hasn’t been…” Ingrid stared at her hands, as though the answer was written on her palm. Curling her fingers as she silently counted, her shoulders slumped as the number got bigger and bigger. “Okay, it has been a while.”

 “Because of exams,” Felix pointed out prudently, before she could fall into his trap. “And we have one tomorrow, which I need to study for.”

 “You’ve been studying all week, your brain can’t handle anymore,” Sylvain countered, once more offering up his brand of nonsense.

 Unfortunately, it worked on Ingrid more often than not and Felix could see her crumbling. Then again, it had worked on him too, otherwise he would never have been in a relationship with one person, let alone the both of them. It had sounded insane when Sylvain had brought it up in their final year of high school. Insane, but Felix couldn’t deny that he had desired it.

 Well, he had denied it, but he could only ignore Sylvain’s daily flirtations for so long before caving. Even more so when Ingrid joined in, her own attempts awkwardly adorable, though Felix would die before uttering those words.

 “Some of us actually have working brains.” Felix glanced at the watch on his wrist. It was 5pm. He still had three chapters left to go. Maybe he should change the lock on his door. Or secretly move. Anything that would give him a little privacy.

 “I don’t know, Sylvain.” Ingrid feebly tried to hold her ground. “How about we go on a date after?”

 “We’re definitely going on a date after.” Sylvain snorted, giving her a withering look. “But the party is tonight.”

 “And the test is tomorrow.” Her voice started to rise and Felix could already picture the argument, an exact repeat of the past hour.

 That was it.  It had to end now. Getting up, he silently stalked to the edge of his bed, looming over the pair. Love was a pain, in all honesty. He wouldn’t have to deal with this if he didn’t care and it was honestly very tempting to just let it all go.

 Unfortunately, he was far too possessive to ever do that, in the same way that Ingrid was too stubborn to let him go, and Sylvain too persistent to accept it. Still, all Felix needed was a single night alone, and that was something he could manage.

 “Felix?” Ingrid looked up at him, bemused, and he swooped down to kiss her. Her eyes widened in surprise, her lips parting slightly as he stole her breath. Delicately, he held her soft cheeks as he deepened the kiss.

 “Ohh, someone’s getting—” Before Sylvain could finish his sentence, Felix grabbed him by the collar and pulled him close, swallowing down Sylvain’s laughter as he bit his lip. Beside them, Ingrid panted slightly, her ears and nose red. She still wasn’t used to it yet, this physical contact, and unlike Sylvain, it wasn’t hard to fluster her.

 Sylvain took a little more work, but he was more used to giving than receiving. Used to jamming his tongue down other people’s throats than having it done to him. Pulling back, Felix smirked as at his boyfriend’s stunned expression. Perfect, they were both out of commission. Before either of them could react, Felix quickly pulled them up by the arm and tossed them out of his dorm room.

 And then he immediately slammed the door shut and locked it.

 Outside, he could hear a muted “Felix!”. He could deal with that later. Finally, there was peace in his room. Sitting down at his desk, he cracked his knuckles and opened his textbook. There were three chapters left, after all, and—

 And all he could think of was Ingrid’s soft lips, of Sylvain’s silken hair. The light red dusting their cheeks.

 Felix groaned as he rested his head on his desk. Fuck, they were even more annoying out of the room than in it.

#sylvain gautier #felix x sylvain x ingrid #felix hugo fraldarius #ingrid brandl galatea #sylvixgrid #fe3h #fe3houses #fire emblem three houses #fanfic

[glasgowkisschelseasmile]

Scandal

Pairing: Brian X Reader - Taken from @glamrockmonarch - fantastic AU concept - Thank you for letting me finish a half finished story and take a little bit of artistic license over your world! Although, it is an older Brain in the AU,I have written it that you can put him younger or older.

Word Count- 25K

Reformatted because the tumblr app wouldn’t open anything but the first and last couple of paragraphs. 

Still not working? Try this link

Please let me know what you think, feedback and comments are more than welcome! I decided not to break it up as it didn’t seem to flow as chapters or parts. Thank you to my buds who have encouraged and listened to me say for about six weeks tell them that it was nearly finished! @diamondxclawedxglove @disasterdeacy

Smut & Angst under the cut!

Infidelity. One tiny word that had caused hours of heartache for y/n. An act she didn’t commit, yet it followed her around with every step. Everything was tainted from that one moment and everything was wrong since that newspaper flew from her hands and bounced off her husband’s chest, the second he walked through the door from the school run, as screams erupted from her mouth. Four simply words had ripped her world apart.  ’Brian May Affair Exclusive’

Y/n tried to read the article through tear soaked eyes as the words seemed to float and jump along the page in her shaking hands.

‘Despite a wife and two teenage sons at home, it appears the Queen guitarist has been up to his old tricks. It has been reported he was seen leaving a hotel with a female television producer, who’s most recent work was on a documentary featuring the rocker. May was well known to have repeatedly cheated on his first wife but had seemed to calm down in recent years since marring Y/N Y/L/N- May, a popular writer and presenter some years his junior. The pair had kept their family life incredibly private and only confirmed their relationship once she had double barrelled her surname, despite reports they’d wed months before and begun dating when she was only in her early twenties. It is unknown currently how long the affair has been going on behind his wife’s back.  However, friends have commented that the scarlet woman in question had made it well known of her intentions towards the musician as she’d been previously linked to a handful of rockstar men including but, not limited to…’ “How could you!? You fucking bastard!?” She cried out as the newspaper landed open with its slanderous story on full display at his feet. Before, y/n never even contemplated she could feel pain that this; so intense and everlasting. Hours passed, weeks and then months yet those bouts of crippling agony and anger still sat within her. ”It was a mistake one night. I was feeling so bloody terrible. I’d gone just for a night to clear my head and you couldn’t come. I- I’d had a couple of drinks and she came onto me- I did not encourage this in anyway. She just happened to be there and, fuck, yes, we went back to her hotel room but, darling, it did not mean anything. I didn’t even cu-“ The slap across his cheek had burnt for hours after y/n had packed her bag and taken their two very upset teenage boys from their house that night. She was broken but they were inconsolable and furious. Harry and Fred always had been her priority and it really didn’t matter if they missed the last two days of their school term after all the photographers were trying to follow them. They hadn’t known until lunchtime when they’d bunked off school to buy lunch and the newspaper was on full display in the off license for all their peers to see. They’d ask school to call their Mum as soon as the first click of a camera could be heard. “Don’t leave.” Brian teared up at the door as y/n hunted for the dog’s car restraint. It was more autopilot than genuine thought as she walked through various rooms. “We can work this out.” “You’ve broken our family. You and you alone. Those boys have been hounded all day because I could barely get out of my home with those vultures circling to get them. They’re just kids, they aren’t equipped to deal with this. Truthfully, neither am I. Goodbye Brian.” The front door shut with a heavy thud that seemed to shake the old house as y/n listened out for anything that may indicate if it was her husband or someone else. The worst thought was the fleeting one that maybe anyone else would cause less of a sinking feeling of dread in her stomach. She heard the dog give a few barks as she jumped off the couch and then happy jumps of paws on the hard wood as she greeted her owner, unaware of the mess around her. Y/n could hear her husband cooing over their ball of fur before asking quietly where his wife was. “Where’s your mum? Hey? Where’s y/n?” Footsteps neared as his shoes where discarded. Y/n just waited to see if he’d just dropped in or really, she’d lost her precious night alone. “Hello?” Brian’s smooth voice rang through the hallways looking for his wife, but her eyes focused on the TV in-front as-if nothing was wrong. However, her nervous tick of bouncing her knee easily shone through to someone who knew her. “Babe?” Y/n was silently debating if she should answer or if she could somehow escape to take the much wanted night apart to hide. She just wanted to be alone and wallow in self-pity and sadness without worrying about upsetting their children and, truthfully, Brian further despite wanting him to know pain like she felt. She wanted him to feel his soul burn every time their eyes met, or someone patronisingly asked how they were doing. “There you are, my love.” “Hi.” Y/n caught his reflection in the mirror, a gentle smile played on his lips. Just the sight of his wife close by and in their home once more by made his heart flutter still. The three of them hadn’t been gone long but it still felt almost impossible to eat his breakfast or do anything but sob in self-pity in his bed. Just even seeing any of them in the house made his soul seem to glow and swell in adoration and happiness. “Where are the boys?” “Rog was already taking Max so offered to take them all. Harry, Fred and Max are all meeting some friends at the gig and then they asked to stay out the night. I said they could… I hope you don’t mind.” “No, why would I mind. I’m happy the boys are having a good time.” Truthfully, she was; those two had been through so much in the past few months and they deserved to have some fun rather than being self-appointed protectors of the family now. Their lives had changed the same as hers had with the whispering behind their backs and constant advice from other members of their family that hadn’t been asked for. She had watched her sons slowly harden as if the perfect bubble they thought they’d lived in had popped. Brian padded into the room with a tense brow as he lingered around, transferring his weight between his feet, until y/n forced herself to speak. ”What are you doing now with a free night of not being a taxi?” Although Y/n was desperate to get their marriage back on track, it seemed almost impossible. They’d fought for months, attended counselling and yet all y/n could hear was his voice muttering some other woman’s name. Despite how many times her husband had argued it was a stupid one time error of judgement when he was feeling so low. It didn’t take away her pain. The house was somewhere she had once felt so safe and secure. She could crumble within its walls and not need to keep up appearances but now, it felt so cold and lonely. Once where memories of her boys playing or her husband chasing her around in their early years of marriage now replaced in her mind with created visions of whispered conversations behind her back or stolen kisses not pressed to her lips. “I don’t know…” Brian scratched lightly at the back of his neck. “I was hoping to spend some time with you; without work or kids as distractions.” Hazel eyes flitted down to her knee that was jumping at twice the speed now with her lip caught between her teeth. She must really hate him to be this uncomfortable with him alone, Brian thought, and that seeping feeling of self-hatred ran around his body. “I’ve asked Rog to us three rings when they’re all home so, if the phone rings, it’s just that. I know you worry.” Brian tried to raise a smile, but he could see his wife’s gaze shifting to anywhere in the room but him. “Our therapist said we are meant to-“ “-I know what she said, Brian. I was there too.” This was one change that couldn’t seem to dissipate; her mood swings. One minute she could be laughing with her friends and then two minutes later be a crying mess with any passing thought of him or his infidelity. The tears just made the feelings of humiliation even worse; she wondered who saw, who knew what her husband had done? Did they pity her or think she was stupid, blame her even? Did her family, friends or, worse, the boys think she was doormat for coming back. Y/n tried her best not to care and push away those thoughts, but it was impossible not to. Even worse, she wondered why she was the one in tears when Brian seemed to be doing so much better. She currently just felt so alone in the world. Her family weren’t much better than the press when it came to the matter. Her mother and sister constantly reminding her they ’knew this would happen’ and ’well if he got caught once… You’ll have to bet your arse it has happened a thousand times you didn’t see.’ It depleted her energy and shattered her already broken heart into pieces.   However, when face to face with Brian, she was just livid and hurt; she couldn’t let it go that her lovely husband could hurt her so deeply and try to use stupid phrases from the therapist? She wanted to slap the shit out of him and scream in his face. They’d been told to say non accusatory words to not fan argumentative fires, but it was hard to think of it as ‘their affair’ when it was Brian who fucked up. “Can I sit with you? I just want to read a book quietly or watch something together. I just want to spend some time with my wife.” Brian’s soft and calm voice broke her thoughts as her face softened and as quickly as the anger came, it ebbed away to the amount she always carried. Y/n could see how much he was trying to be normal with her and hold himself back from pushing any situation. She’d watched his hands hover her shoulders before he left, watched their boys kiss her cheek goodbye but never pushed as he whispered a declaration of love. “I don’t mind. I’ll go if you want me to but I’d adore to just sit next to you if you allow me.” Y/n gave a slow nod, pulling her legs into her body to make herself as small as possible and adjusted the cushions to build them up around her. It was just every barrier she could possibly make, she did. In bed, once Brian was finally allowed back in that was, y/n had bought the same type of long body pillow, she’d used when pregnant with the twins, as a barrier between the two. Brian knew full well why, they were sharing a bed purely so the boys didn’t know how apart emotionally they’d become. The kids started to forgive him slowly only once they thought their mother had. “I love you.” Brian almost whispered. “I know.” Y/n just couldn’t always bring herself to tell him in the moment even though she felt it so deeply. It hadn’t helped everyone’s judgement. She could feel eyes on her in the supermarket and those hideous TV shows debated if she was stupid for staying.  The feelings of despair and sadness creeping once more into her mind as she scanned his profile; seeing his hands turn over each other with his face pained in thought. How did this happen to them? “Are you hungry? I can make you something to eat if you want.” “You need to eat too. I’m worried about you.” A hand came to rest on her ankle, thumb rubbing the bone as it had done thousands of times before. “Your running on empty. The boys-“ “Do you want a glass of wine instead?” Abruptly, y/n stood up, almost running from the room before Brian could get into any real conversation. “Y/N…” Brian rubbed his eyes in exacerbation. He truly didn’t know how much longer he could go on being rebuffed; just wanting to feel the warmth of skin on his or feel comfort from his wife’s touch. He had no right but mostly he wanted to hold her in these moments of intense suffering and be that sanctuary he used to be. “We’ve got white already open; hope you don’t mind.” Brian was still perched on the edge of the couch. His hands where clasped together and covering his mouth with elbows on his bony knees but offered a tight-lipped smile as the glass was handed to him. Y/n circled her husband almost nervously before forcing herself to sit next to him like their therapist had suggested she needed to slowly begin to let it get better. However, as Brian remained on the cushion edges, she pushed herself as deeply as possible into the fabric. This time last year she’d have probably thrown herself into his arms by leaping off the back of the couch and giggling as she almost knocked Brian off balance in their playfulness at the excitement of a full night unexpectedly to themselves. “I- I do love you, Bri…” Y/n stuttered out, surprising herself at the boldness and the relief that seemed to fizzle in her stomach. “I know.” He sighed, that tight smile still playing on his lips that meant he wasn’t really okay, and his mind was captured in painful thoughts. Long fingers swung his wedding finger around, he’d only taken to wearing it full time since everything had happened as it got caught on his guitar too often on tour and Brian had always maintained he was nervous of losing something so sentimental, of course his wife had since wondered otherwise. With another sigh he turned to y/n pulling her view from his hands to his eyes. “We’re not getting through this, are we?” Once the words where cast he had to turn back around because he simply couldn’t look at y/n anymore when the pain was this sever. Instantly y/n felt shame take over her whole body. It may have been him that had fucked up, but it was her who wouldn’t allow her mind to forget. Anytime it started to lessen, she’d force herself to remember that pain or her anxiety would flood her in droves of ‘what ifs’ and shouting that they couldn’t go through this again. Brian had tried everything; allowing her space, then coming back to trying to be affectionate physically, trying to plan a romantic weekend away, he’d even slept for three nights on the floor when y/n was convinced she could smell another woman on him suddenly but didn’t want to worry the boys with their fights. He’d even held her hand, hanging off the edge of the bed, as her tears flowed quietly. He’d cried with her but never did anything other than silently comfort his wife how she’d asked him too. “We’re trying…” y/n voice broke as she heard her husband trying to sniff back his tears. A delicate hand rested in the centre of his back, rubbing calming circles that made it even harder to speak. “How much longer can we try for?” He turned, looking his wife in the eye once more, both glossy and pained. “I’ll forgive you because I can blame myself because I know you and I know this is not how you act. However, in all seriousness, how much longer can you try for? You’re not eating, not sleeping, you’re not even writing. I know you and I know you haven’t written a single word in months.” Y/n’s eyes gazed into his hazel ones that glistened with tears finally breaking that he quickly wiped away. “I honestly think if we can’t get past this our family would be better in half than walking on eggshells. The boys have never been in trouble before this and Fred’s in and out of detention every other day and Harry? At least Fred’s angry all the time, Harry just has these huge outbursts; sometimes he can barely look at me when he’s not plastered to your side. Then he has no problem staring me down every chance he gets.” “I don’t think he’s exactly to blame for his little pops at you. I’ve always said you weren’t laid back enough with them-“ “-I just want them to do well. I push them because they’re clever lads. Don’t tell me how to parent my boys when you know it’s not about me being strict with them. I want the best for them… which is why, I don’t know if this situation is the best for them. And I’ve done this before, I know how much it rips your soul in two to not wake your kids up for school every morning. I love doing that. I treasure being a dad so much but, we- we need to face facts that it’s not good for them and it’s not good for you… I just want what’s best for you and I want you to be happy and I will just have to accept that it’s not me anymore.” “We’re all really trying, Brian. It’s a hard age for them regardless of what’s going on between us and all their friends know what’s happening. They haven’t really got anyone to talk to; they won’t talk to me at all about their feelings anymore… I don’t like how they’re getting so tall; I can’t hug them like I used to… It’s starting to feel like hugging you when you were all bony and skinny with your ridiculously long limbs…” The circles getting stronger into the tense muscles of his back before slipping under his shirt. Her tears too not quite holding back now. She missed his warmth so deeply but couldn’t bring herself to accept tainted skin against hers anymore. ”You do make me happy. The times we’re good, we’re great. Even since everything. I know how much you try, and I will keep working for you. They don’t want to be split up from you. I know how hurt they felt when we went straight after it happened. I know because they told me. They wanted you there… even I wanted you there sometimes.” Y/n and Brian somehow found the strength to pull themselves together with tears being wiped away. She wasn’t lying, y/n had realised when she’d instinctively turned to roll her eyes at their boy’s antics of trying to wrestle in the surf. Y/n wanted to see her husband smiling at them all, then having to makeshift some clothes for the drive home when they were freezing and wet. That was the night she knew their relationship was worth saving. She’d packed their bags at midnight and driven into the early hours to get home and found her husband, sporting a scruffy peppered beard, crying quietly looking at the array of family photos in the living room. The boys hadn’t ever let anyone, not even admitted to each other, know of the relief of watching from the stairs as their parents sobbed into each other’s arms and a thousand apologies whispered into each other’s shoulders. “I wanted to be with you.” Her fingers found a tight knot at the base of his spine and her thumb began to press harder until she felt it start to come apart. It was natural, something she’d done so often but with being so touch starved it made Brian close his eyes with a gulping sigh of contentment spreading throughout his body, but it just seemed so wrong after all he’d said; he felt unworthy. She dried her cheeks again, even though the tears ceased they still seemed to be pulling at her face still. “Why don’t you take them out for a day? I’ll stay here so it’s just you three. Buy their love and affection if you must, spoil them a little bit. They’re good boys and they deserve some time with just you. They won’t worry so much then. Do whatever weird man things you boys do when I have to stand in a music shop for hours whilst you get hassled, the bit before I give up and look at book shops or anything but people telling you how great you are.” Y/n rolled her eyes in jest but Brian could reel off a handful of occasions that had happened to them both. “You mean the bit where the boys somehow load up a basket of everything they want to try and somehow it goes onto my credit card?” “Yes, the bit when they take advantage of you being forgetful and telling them your pin codes or ability to forge your signature.” They both chuckled as their souls seemed to warm up just a little more. That was part of the reason both Brian and y/n tried so hard to keep things together. Duct tape the cracks till it looked seamless to anyone but them. It was just since that time they’re relationship had become so volatile, both could be prone to the odd flair up or picking a fight but it seemed out of control some days and on the flip side, they could be happy and jovial over dinner until he’d tried to initiate any romantic or such alike. “They’re little buggers sometimes.” He took another sip of his wine and placed the glass on the table. Brian gave a feeble laugh, looking over his shoulder at his wife who was scrunching her nose in that way that was purely her. He winked at her as he spoke. “They get that from you.” “And they get their obsession with collecting from you… I’ve been thinking…” y/n tapped her foot nervously again and picked some nonexistence fluff from her yoga pants. “Maybe we should go away like you’d suggested. A change of scenery might do us some good; just us. R/W/N or my parents would probably look after the kids and the dog.” “I’d love that.” Brian spoke as another wave of relief washed over him as he dared to place his hand over hers on her thigh. He gently squeezed in sincerity as his smile opened for the first time in days. “I’d really love that. You love Paris or is that too cliched?” “I wouldn’t be mad at a weekend in Paris or Florence or even somewhere completely new. Anywhere with you will be lovely.” Desperately they were both trying to have some sort of semblance of normalcy. They’d frequently slip in and out of the state, but it did seem to be getting slightly more often and longer periods. It was okay when life was busy, work, calls and two kids to rush around meant they could at least pretend everything was normal for small periods of time. It was the nights that things got more complicated; when they were forced to be alone together. Y/N would sporadically still touch Brian, but he could feel how forced it was. She’d even occasionally grimace, and they hadn’t had a proper cuddle in bed since that night before the news had broken. Memories of that night sometimes where all that kept him going. The thoughts of soothing touches and kisses had ran around his body as she softly whispered sweet nothings and positivity in his ear all night. When he showed no signs of being able to sleep, even in the small morning hours creeping around them,  she’d taken him between her lips and into her hand and blown him until he was a quaking, sweaty mess under her. y/n realised now Brian’s initial reluctance to do anything physical since that weekend was his overpowering guilt but that night he’d clung to her desperately as he tried to find some hope and solace. He’d rocked his hips into her as one hand roamed his body with soft hums and Brian’s hands tangled in her hair as he whispered, as loud as he dared, about how loved she was. It all seemed so cheap mere hours later. They’d done all the therapist exercises, Brian admitting that it was his fault and his alone, validating her feelings of pain and betrayal and trying to picture a future together. The book said to picture grandkids and enjoying retirement, but all y/n could see was an empty house and loneliness. When she’d told the therapist, she’d simply said to think of next Christmas, what did that look like? Truthfully, y/n had no idea. She wanted to see him, and their boys surrounded by her stepchildren and growing number of grandchildren throughout the years but any time she felt like they were moving forward, another wave of sadness hit her and knocked her down again. Brian shuffled back, relaxing into the cushions with his hand on her thigh still. It was just instinctive impulse that caused her to close the gap and press her lips softly against his temple. “I miss you. I miss your touch. I miss your lips.” He muttered as his eyes fluttered shut but felt his wife edging away from him. “Babe, I’m so-“ “Shush. I know.” He watched her glass be placed next to his before leaning back and tugging a dumbstruck Brian back to her. His back against her chest and her hand holding his and the other coming to pull his forehead back to her lips. “I know. I just… I just look at you and I see- it’s so stupid- but I see marks on your skin. I look at these lips and I see horrible lipstick stains. I look at your beautiful eyes and wonder if you even want to see me or are you imagining someone else. Do you even want me physically anymore or are you here to save face? I see the boys and I think about how you didn’t want more children and I did, so we had them. What if you blame me for trapping you? Are you here because you think you have a duty to us or something silly like that? Do you want to be with someone else? Do you want her?” In one minute she’d said more to Brian than in months. Let him know her worries and concerns and Brian could feel the quick heave of her chest as her leg started bouncing again. This time, however, he reached forward and took her ankle in his hand before pulling it into his lap and wrapping her body around his before turning to look deeply into her eyes. “You are my world with my children; every single one of them. Never, ever doubt that you didn’t give me one of the greatest gifts you ever could. I fell in love a thousand times deeper and more intensely when those little nuggets were placed in my arms. I didn’t even know I could love someone any more than I already loved you. I’m not here because we have children. I woke up one day in how ever many years and made a mistake. I wake up every morning and remind myself what a fucking idiot I was, and I try my damnedest to try and fix the pain I caused you and the kids.” Brian  sighed as he tried to hold himself together and squeezed her calf muscle to centre himself. “I love you. I always have and I always will. Only you will ever be my wife, I promised you that on our wedding day and I hate myself that I broke a vow because I didn’t ever think I would. I was so low, and you were so busy, and I fucked up. The same way you feel like I don’t want you physically; that’s how I felt… fuck, how I feel.” “How could you even think that?” Her brows knitted together in confusion, until the affair she’d always been very affectionate to him. Always peppering kisses and nuzzling into his body when they’d curl up together. “Because look at you and look at me. Maybe when you were in your twenties and I had some semblance of a rockstar-“ y/n quickly cutting off her husband before he went down a rabbit hole. “Hey, I didn’t meet a rockstar though. I met a lovely guy who wanted to talk about animal rights and the night sky, and you duped me with this rock god bollocks.” “I duped you?” He shook his head away from her as he tried to discreetly wipe away the stray tear that fell. “Yes. I didn’t want some rockstar wanker. I wanted some nice absentminded man who knew about interplanetary dust and ate far too many pastries but had no idea where his wallet was and left his house keys on my kitchen table even though I’d reminded him quite literally the second before to take them. I loved that about you when we met. I loved you coming back and convincing you to stay again or the way you’d tell me a million theories by people I had never even heard of; about things I never knew existed. I loved you for you.” That last statement hurt. He’d spent far too many nights with women that wanted him to be who they thought he was and didn’t care how he felt or were willing to spend any time on anything other than just fucking a pop star. Even from their very early relationship, y/n had always taken care of him. He doubted any of his onetime bed partners would even know his middle name or favourite book. ”What a stupid fool you’ve been…” Brian thought to himself. “That’s still me but I’m older to say the least, my hairs turning colour and my body aches in the morning. I’ve seen the way other men look at you; I’ve quite literally been pushed aside by men to talk to you before. How can I compete with guys your age? Look at me.” For the first time in months, she did. Brian carried a little more weight than when they met but he looked healthier to y/n now, not so thin or eating that dreadful diet of whatever someone had left in the fridge or he could get delivered.  He had more wrinkles but so did she, the lack of sleep wasn’t helping either of them and, yes his hair had changed colour multiple times till it faded to grey but his eyes. His eyes were the same hazel with tiny flecks is green that shone in the light or whenever he was excitedly talking about a subject. They still turned deep and self-reflective when he was saddened by something. Whatever had changed physically it hadn’t changed a single thing about how she felt about him. He was still utterly handsome and when he’d wield himself around on stage, he was still sexy to her. How could he not recognise her utter admiration to every part of him? “You’re so very handsome, Bri. How could you even begin to think I didn’t find you attractive or interesting anymore…” Y/n was taken aback as she replayed so many times, she’d brushed him off even before the mistake. The new book had taken nearly all her time and energy and the nights she’d creep off to write in the darkness or when Brian would softly ask her to take a break or just that he was down, and she’d not been there for him. That weekend y/n had blamed Brian for disappearing off but she’d also remembered how the boys had shut their doors and battled each other with loud music and she had sat downstairs with headphones on to drown them out; no wonder he felt his only option was to get some peace and quiet and that bitch had prayed on him. He’d fucked up but the pain and regret was evident in everything he’d done since. She should have marched upstairs and pulled the cables to the twins’ speakers or made Brian stay and take the dog for a walk into the town and have lunch together. He should have stayed, and they should have talked this out months before any issues had arisen. Maybe some of the guilt she felt was internalised, if she’d had taken that Sunday afternoon on Friday, if she’d have baked his favourite treats and wrapped her body around his in the hazy sunlight, maybe, just maybe he wouldn’t have done what he did. Y/n fingers ghosted his cheek, Brian’s eyes locked to hers moving around his face and body. She leaned forward, lips pushing into his ever so softly it almost felt like smoke dancing along his skin soon to slip away. He knew not to push, to relax with a soft hum of appreciation. Her heart seemed to reform slightly as she felt his shoulders relax but could feel his lips just holding back from what he really wanted. With passion and force, their kiss grew. Maybe the words couldn’t express how she needed to be back with him but hopefully some romantic attention could. Y/n caressed his sharp jaw with her thumb and Brian reciprocated. His long and delicate fingertip ran over her pulse point, feeling the strong thud when his hand splayed around her neck with a tender and gentle touch. Brian’s hands relaxed their grip when he reminded himself to slow down. He’d gladly accept anything his wife offered no matter how short. Savouring what he believed to be the last fleeting moments with her lips on his. Y/n’s weight seemed to shift around him, her leg pushing further across his lap and Brian gave a surprised whimper when he felt his wife wrap her arms around his neck and lower herself into his lap. “This okay?” She asked as his hands remained in mid-air but their lips never truly parting. “I just wasn’t prepared.” “Why aren’t you touching me?” She mumbled against his lips as their noses rubbed together in a change of sides. “I didn’t know I was allowed to.” He admitted before taking her hips with a squeeze. The thin T-shirt had ridden up and exposed her lower back which gave Brian an opportunity to touch her skin. She was almost so warm and soft; exactly how home felt. One hand fell lower daring to press under the thin material of her yoga pants and give her ass a playful grasp. She allowed his hands to roam her body feeling wanted and safe in his tight hold. It felt so wonderful to be here once more. They both melted into their lover, moaning into each other as her tongue slipped across his bottom lip to deepen the kiss even further. Her hand draped around his shoulder and into his open shirt to feel the intimate skin of his chest. She’d missed him so dreadfully and it finally felt like they were reclaiming their marriage together. “You really do have a fantastic arse.” And that simple statement of praise and Brian’s attempt to make her feel attractive instantly caused a sink in her gut. Had he said that to someone else? Was he comparing the two women? Had he felt that bitch up like he touched his wife? Then she could feel it; that cheap red lipstick staining her lips from his. A powerful shove from her palms to Brian’s shoulders knocked him back into the cushions. He was shell shocked; how could everything flip so drastically? Change so quickly? He watched his wife begin to pace around the room with wide eyes as she shook her head and once again avoided looking to him directly. “Darling, what’s wrong? You’re worrying me. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you, but I can see how much I have.” He jumped up and tried to place a hand on her chest and back and rub calming circles like before, but it just made it worse. She screamed at him to not touch her and Brian just stood dejected and feeling as if he was taking up far too much space in her world. It was back. The red hotspots as she was calling them. Sometimes when she looked at her husband, she could almost see glowing patches of skin where he’d been unfaithful. Holding someone else’s hand, had she kissed his chest like y/n did, tickled her tongue along his stomach until he squirmed or bit his neck in pleasure as she held his strong hips. “No, no, no, please no.” She crumbled as her knees started to give way and her hands come to wipe the flowing tears. That’s when y/n saw it. The bright red glow on her own skin, could feel the heat they generated, every place his hands or mouth had laid where suddenly burning with memories and created visions of his betrayal. She wiped her lips with the back of her hand as if that would somehow help but her head was spinning. No other thoughts could process in her mind other than Brian’s unfaithfulness and how his skin and soul had been polluted by another. All she could think was how he was transferring everything to her; making her unclean and defiled too. “Why did you do this!? Why did you allow yourself to be tainted like this?! How could you do this to our marriage, Brian?!” “Darling, you’re having a panic attack. Look at me.” Brian was kneeling down next to his wife, eyes of pure concern as her chest shook with deep sobs. He tried to hand her a drink, but she couldn’t bear to place it to her lips. “I just can’t stop thinking about you… doing that- something so personal and private with someone else… with her…” Another fresh set of tears broke down her cheeks as her body screamed for air turning her voice weak. ”You left our home to be with another woman, Brian! Not on tour, not away in the world. You left me… for her.” The guilt was already steadily tightening a knot in his gut. His poor wife was broken, she’d been his greatest support and champion and he’d repaid her by doing this. “I’m so sorry.” Brian sniffled with his cuff pressed to his nose, knowing he had no right to cry and swallowed down his own tears. “I truly am. If I could take this back, I would. If I could do anything to take away your pain, I promise you, darling; I’d do anything. Keep breathing. Place your hands to your face and deep breaths.” Y/n did as he instructed and thankfully the actual attack was relatively short-lived from what she’d been experiencing recently. She hadn’t had anxiety attack’s regularly since she was nineteen. Before this had awful mess had happened, Brian was always there for her. He’d place a hand over the centre of her back and chest and shush her until she felt less claustrophobic and then he’d pull y/n’s body gently to his chest and enclose her in their own little bubble. Brian was y/n’s security blanket, a protector against the world and whatever scared her, but never did she think it would be his actions that could terrify her to the core. “I will never, ever fuck up so fucking badly again. I’ll spent every waking second of my life trying to make this right if you want me too. If you want me, that is. I worship the ground you and our boys walk on already and that will never change. Regardless of your decision. You’d never have to worry about money or anything such as that either. I’d make sure you got what you deserved. I’ll stand aside if you want me to.” Y/n hadn’t seen her husband cry over the situation much since she’d come home, he’d tried to be strong, but she could so often hear small sobs from behind closed doors or see how red his eyes were in the middle of the night. However, as he spoke those words he never imagined having to, he looked like some poor and broken man whose clothes didn’t fit and emotional pain physically manifested in his lithe frame. “Nothing can ever change how much I love you, y/n. You’ll be okay always; I promise you’ll get back to being happy soon.” “Just hold me.” Y/n was still so pained and emotionally raw but just maybe the attack had subsided as soon as Brian was close and calm. The ice-cold burn in her lungs subsiding slowly as her chest still felt like fire to touch. She needed him, as much as she wanted to deny it. Her thoughts from the last hour all swirled in her mind as she tried to focus on Brian in front of her with his soft voice of pure sincerity. Y/n reached out, taking his hand in her own and placing it over her heart. Without having to be asked, he started to rub soothing circles. Brian’s other hand moved to gently encourage her head against his own chest as he peppered kisses to her hair . It could have been minutes or hours, neither would be able to guess a time as Brian continued to whisper comforting words to her. “I want to take a shower… I can still feel everything on me. I just need to be fresh right now. If we’re having that conversation. I need to feel okay at least.” Y/n said as Brian groaned standing up, hissing in pain. “Just my knees. Don’t worry.” “I told you not to kneel so much on the cold floor. You’re too bony for that…” “Don’t worry about me. Y/n… I want to schedule another therapist appointment for us. Set of appointments really. I want to get back to however normal we can become.” “I do too. It’s just this feeling of-“ Y/n began at scratch at her arms to show what she felt. Brian just waved an understanding hand. “I know. Go shower and I’ll see you soon.” Almost on autopilot she went upstairs but began to strip off her clothes in the hallway to rid herself of one layer of bad feelings at a time. Brian sat back down completely unnerved at how bad it had truly gotten. How could he have missed such a thing? Every step forward felt like three back. He’d been so overjoyed just have her and the twins back in the house that everything else just seemed to pass him by. He gave a long sigh that racked his body with exhaustion and began to absentmindedly play with the ring on his finger again. When they’d gotten married it had meant too much to have something on his hand, something so small to show the world that he wasn’t such a mess anymore. Show the world he wasn’t walking alone anymore. Wherever and whoever he was that day, somewhere in the world someone was waiting for him, thinking about him and caring about his despite the distance between them. Gradually they both took their rings off for a plethora of reasons. It caught on his strings or the diamond band flashed the camera strangely when she was presenting a segment. At first, they’d both been unwilling, Brian would slip his on another finger for the tour and y/n would swirl the band around but slowly they both became accustomed to not having that little bit of precious metal on their person more and more. Plodding with leaden steps, he pottered into the kitchen; letting the dog out and then setting on making her a snack, still concerned about the lack of care his wife was taking of herself and it was all his fault. Upstairs y/n was doing almost the same thing as Brian, contemplative and alone in the shower, but eyeing the diamond wedding band sat neatly on the shelf as she washed the shampoo from her hair. She only wore her rings when she went out now, just to not allow any news outlets to try to drag out the already well worked affair. bur Brian had not taken his off for a moment during the recent months, but y/n was still so deep in denial of her feelings that it only served as a reminder of what had happened. When they’d gotten married it seemed so serious and grown up to walk around with a wedding band holding down her engagement ring, she’d play with it all the time and if she was deep in thought she’d tap one ring against the other until her husband would wordlessly press his hand over hers when it had sufficiently irritated him. There was a knock at the ensuite door, shaking her from her thoughts as Brian spoke. “I’ve brought you some toast and a drink up. By the bed. This is fresh out of the dyer.” A pristine towel was unceremoniously dropped through the gap. “I’ll sleep in the guest room.” “It’s not very late, Bri.” She said with a frown hearing the depletion in his voice but getting no response as the bedroom door closed with a small thud of frustration. Brian was stood outside looking at the wall of family pictures and achievements that lined the hallway. The kid’s certificates and his gold discs with their degrees in between previously captured memories. He smiled as he looked between his favourites, only putting them back up when she agreed to come home, their memories far too painful for the month without his wife and younger children especially when his older ones could barely bring themselves to acknowledge that he may be pained too. Lovingly, he stroked his most treasured one; himself, y/n and all five of his children at a after show party. They all looked so happy, Harry just over taking their sisters in height then whereas now the twins where both eye to eye with Brian. His girls had their arms around his wife and Brian pulled both his youngest and eldest son close with Fred kneeling with a cheesy smile plastered across his face and his mother’s hands on his shoulders. If only Brian could go back and tell himself to savour every second and never take them for granted. “What the fuck did you do?” He muttered and turned to go to the guest room far away from the bedroom he wasn’t sure he could still consider his own. Y/n watched as the suds ran over her body, removing all the marks left on her skin from Brian and anyone else. Regardless of how irrational she knew the feelings where they just couldn’t always be shaken away. She knew that nothing of that night would remain anywhere but his mind however, she wasn’t thinking rationally in those moments of utter pain. When they’d first started dating, it seemed a privilege to have Brian’s touch or something of his on her. He’d left his watch on her bedside table and she’d kept it safe on her wrist for two days before he’d come back to retrieve it. She liked being able to see a little reminder of her then boyfriend. Times had changed but still a large collection of random tour hoodies and his vintage T-shirt’s where still her favourite thing to lounge around in and when he was away on tour she’d press her face into the old fabric and breath in that scent that was just him. It wasn’t, however, the same as being able to lay on his chest or nuzzle into his neck from behind whilst he played guitar. That hadn’t happened for months though, hadn’t allowed herself to wrap him in an embrace wholeheartedly but Brian had desperately tried to comfort her or just have that intimacy. He’d try putting his hand on her knee in the car or trying to hook his little finger around hers like they used to when they sat somewhat near each other on the sofa once. Y/n wasn’t to blame for what Brian did, but she also had to saddle the responsibility of getting her marriage back on track if she indeed wanted things to get better. When the therapist had asked about their sex life since, Brian had brushed it off as ‘Fine, all things considering.’ However, she had sat silent; how could see tell the man she loved his touch made her skin crawl because she somehow thought he was covered with his mistress. They’d gone over every detail; she knew what and how it happened but the doubts where still there even after his unbridled honesty. It was now or never. She had to do something before he gave up trying, and y/n feared he was tittering on the edge of the precipice. It was apparently normal to be turned off from sex, but y/n made every effort to avoid even gentle touch and love but when she did accept it. It made everything melt away for those precious few moments before the memories hit like a tidal wave. ”Sometimes it’s just like he’s tainted. I can’t touch him without feeling that way too. I feel dirty and unclean. I instantly want to wash it off.” Y/n said as she sat quietly tucked away with Rogers/w/n in a small wine bar weeks ago, both their eyes scanning the street or bar for cameras or people listening in. “Do you feel he can wash it off? Realistically nothing left now, I know he’s not lying when he said about it being a onetime accident. Roger would know if it happened on tour with him and you know everyone on his solo tours and their families. I don’t think you wouldn’t know if something else had gone off…” “They’re on his payroll. Of course, they’d lie because he’s putting food on their tables. I wouldn’t blame them.” “But if you still see these…. these things… Have you heard of revenge sex? Claiming what’s yours. Make him yours again. I know it’s difficult, but I’ve seen how broken he is, admittedly I’m not talking to him or pitying him in anyway, but I know what he’s telling Rog and he’s devastated. You both need each other to go forward.” “You’re starting to sound like my therapist.” Y/n rolled her eyes as she swirled the wine in her glass. “She thinks that revenge or claiming sex isn’t good to start with, but she thinks I need to make more of an effort, I can tell that’s what she means. We’re going out and when we talk, it’s great, I know he’s honest and I don’t really question his loyalty to the family but the moment he wants to kiss. I just think about the fact he’s kissed someone else. He’s done even bloody more than just a kiss. It wasn’t even like he was on tour and it just happened. He left our house to be with her. He could have said no. A few glasses of wine? Like that’s an excuse, he knows I’d have picked him up if he’d have called.” Y/n’s friend had just sat there and pouted in thought, letting her friend speak. She hadn’t gotten y/n to really open up at all, only flashes of emotion before someone or something would take their attention. “I want to be able to accept him back like before, but I- I just can’t…” She took a large gulp of her drink, avoiding her friends’ sympathetic eyes in a bid to not cry again. “The therapist suggested a spa treatment or showering together because it’s personal and private… relaxing but I don’t know.” “Because you were obviously not freaky before.” R/w/n teased and rolled her eyes which raised a small laugh before her friend covered her hand with her own. “You’re paying a small fortune, try what she’s suggesting if you can. Don’t even say about the boys, you know I’ll have them any time.” Y/n took a deep breath as she stepped out the shower and wrapped the still warm towel around herself. Purposely she walked to the other side of the bathroom. She took her wedding and engagement rings and pushed them onto her finger to where they are meant to sit. It warmed her soul, she’d admit, to feel them again on her own terms. Tenderly she brought them to her lips, kissing them with a thousand resealed promises. “Brian?!” She called for him as she scanned the bedroom and into the hallway but only the dog gave a brief bark from one of the boys’ rooms. Briefly she glimpsed their wedding photos even more determined to somehow make this fade into the distance. Her steps where brisk as she caught the sound of the main shower running and the open guest room door. “Hi.” Y/n breathed into the steamy room, breaking Brian from his thoughts and pulling his head away from the tiles but keeping the soaped wash scrubber in his hand. “Are you okay?” He asked concerned to why she’d come to him. “Is something wrong, love?” Y/n gave a gentle shake of her head, a hint of a smile on her lips. “I love you.” She spoke definitely and honestly. “Can I join you?” Brian was understandably taken aback, he’d only really gotten in the shower as a way to waste some time before the inevitable time he’d have to retire to a bed that wasn’t his own and fight his body’s natural want to be awake but the pain of sitting alone in his home was too great on his heart to bare. “Yeah…” Unashamedly her towel was dropped and kicked to the side of the room with a confidence rooted more in ‘fake it till you make it’ than anything else. However, her husband was wide eyed and breathless as she slipped around the shower screen and pulled him into a chaste kiss. “I want to make this work. I really, really want to get through this rough patch.” “Me too.” He whispered as y/n draped her arms around his neck and pressed their bodies together under the streams of hot water. Brian instantly pushed his face into her shoulder, kissing any wet skin his lips could land on as his arms circled around her waist so tightly. “I love you so much.” Hazel eyes were forced open, gazing at the curves of her hips and dimples on her back; he tried to memorise every dip and sweep of her flesh that he’d taken for granted just in case he didn’t get the chance to do so again. “I know you do… Stay with me tonight.” Y/n turned her face, pressing a long overdue kiss to his jaw. “Stay in our bed. Please?” The thud of her heart was noticeable between their chests as her nerves grew. What if he said no? Brian smiled tight lipped, almost like a nervous teenager, nodding as his cheeks grew pink with a blush of happy energy radiating through his body even though he’d claim it was just the hot water. With a deep breath she reached behind her back, taking his hand and the shower mitt before bringing it up to his face and brushing the soap over his mouth, cheeks and jaw line. The red marks weren’t there but she pictured them fading away like the exercise had said, each one of them being soaped away with each pass of her hand over his neck. Y/n watched the red turn pink and then be washed away as he tilted his head under the water, his usually wild curls somewhat subdued. “Is there a good reason you’re trying to water board me?” Brian teased y/n before she rolled her eyes with a simple nod. She forced her hand lower; looking over his scared stomach before her hands travelled back up his lithe chest. The mixture of soap and water made his skin slick so y/n’s hands could easily spread around and rub at whatever area she wanted to be hers again. “You are mine, aren’t you? Only mine?” Brian nodded; they didn’t need more than necessary words in this situation. His chest was next, running over every bump of his ribs from his sternum to his waist and feeling the rise and fall of his breath from underneath. “Yes. Only yours, my love.” She needed one reassurance and only alone. His stomach was so badly marked from being young, she couldn’t even contemplate having to watch him go through so many seriously illnesses back to back. Y/n always admired his emotional strength and drive to get better in such dire circumstances. Circling his hips before dropping lower to massage the soap around his long legs, kneeling before him as Brian kept much of the water from hitting y/n. Even though his legs carried almost no muscle, he always had these perfect curves and soft lines of definition. Y/n had to say, the blessing of that first hot summer together had caused her so many distractions when they’d laid out in Brian’s garden to escape the heat of the city. It was so perfectly private for their burning passions for each other. They’d barely worn clothes for those days and anything inside seemed an impossible task. He hummed as fingers pressed into and massaged his calves. “That feels really quite nice.”   A gentle kiss fell to his knee, still red from kneeling so long downstairs. She moved to his thighs, looking up at him through wet lashes to see his eyes half closed and his lips holding a smile. Brian took the soap in his palm, sweeping it over her shoulders with so much care and attention. Neither of them had to speak as his slender fingers massaged into her shoulders till, she moaned out and closed her eyes, thumbs digging into his thighs with a gasp. They never felt pressured to always be talking, many years of love and kinship meant they could communicate on so many levels together. Cautiously sweeping quickly over his crotch as she stood, focusing on his reaction, but his soft moans and bite to his lip awaked something almost forgotten within her. The wash cloth was released from her grip as she allowed her hand to dance along the hot skin of his hip bones causing his breath to catch and his eyes to close as the back of her hand brushed against his length before slipping it fully between her palm and instantly feeling pulses of excitement start to throb. “Don’t-“ He pushed her hand away just slightly as his pent-up sexual want bubbled at his surface and fogged his mind. “Kiss me.” It came out as a small, desperate whisper but Brian needed no explanation or further instructions as he dipped his head to connect his lips to his wife’s. The pressure was strong and consistent, but it wasn’t meant to be sexual, any emotion or connection he tried to pour into kissing her and ignore the ghosting touch to his twitching cock. It was y/n who opened her mouth slightly causing a gasp to vibrate through her lips before a long groan. They picked up where they left off downstairs with little gasps and moans and his hands squeezed her hips but as he went to use the path of the water to slide down her to her bum, he remembered and instead just rubbed a small path up to her waist. “No. Touch me.” She murmured before kissing him deeply again as a thousand locked away feelings flooded their minds so almost nothing could come.  “I want you to touch me. Can I touch you?” She asked but Brian just gave a long groan and nodded before kissing her again. Her soaped palm glided over his sensitive weights before taking his semi hard shaft and teasing it with a light and slow jerk of her hand. “Oh god…” Y/n waist was possibly Brian’s favourite part of her body. Hourglass curves where definitely his new weakness for y/n. Brian kissed her again but pulled away, looking deeply into her eyes as his hands stayed situated and hers continued to tease his hardening cock. “Tell me what you’re thinking.” Y/n whispered, pushing onto her tip toes to kiss Brian’s cheek. It just felt so sensual and perfect to have her husband back without the pressure. She needed to go forward and remember why they fell in love, why this all happened and how badly she needed him. His eyes trailed her body, barely speaking as he gave her a gentle squeeze. “You’re so beautiful and, gosh, I love this waist; you’re so perfect. I love being able to hold you by it when we’re out at parties or just getting coffee so everyone knows your mine.” “I’ve always been yours and you’re mine. You are mine regardless of anything else.” Brian kissed her cheeks in return as the emotion almost broke her voice. “When else… I miss your voice. I miss you.” His usually agile mind was clouded and fogged with intense desire. “When I make love to you…” Brian almost blurted out with a long moan but earned himself a reassuring kiss to his jaw. “or when you wrap your body around mine and you make love with me,“ he kissed the shell of her ear. "so I know you’re mine or even when we can’t wait, and I fuck you hard and fast. I’ll lock my hands onto your waist and pull you into me, so you know you’re mine.” Y/n gasped at Brian’s words, so teasing and tempting and yet almost alien from anything she’d heard in the last few months. All she knew was her mind was screaming for everything in that description. She wanted to be around his body as they melted into each other and the rest of the world and the utter bullshit it contained drifted into insignificance. “Make me yours. Remind me who’s I am. I want to be yours again.” Brian’s lips were attacking his wife’s before she’d even finished speaking, his knees dipping to her level. “Come be mine. I want you back.” “You’ve already got me. You’ve got me always.” His mouth left hers with his hands coming to her cheeks and forcing their eyes to lock. “I love you. You know that, don’t you? Forever and a day.” Y/n nodded, pressing three short kisses to his lips as tears threatened to bite at her eyes. ‘Forever and a day’ such a simple statement but to them it held so much. He’d said it when he proposed, when they got married but he’d first said it after a fight shortly after they’d gotten serious. Brian was worried about their age gap and the intense public scrutiny of y/n and their relationship and y/n had taken it so personally about herself because she didn’t see an older man when she looked at Brian. She saw someone on her level. However, to him, in that moment he was trying to save them both time and his heartache when the novelty wore off, pressure became too much, or her parents decided they hated him and eventually she went home with a sob story. “Forever and a day.” He repeated, holding her jaw as if it was delicate glass that could snap at any point and leave his fingers cut to ribbons. Until she too whispered the words just loudly enough to hear over the muffle of the shower water bouncing off the tiles. They were desperate kisses and she willed her mind to keep her focus on her husband not allow anything but excitement to creep into her thoughts. The fear that it would all end with anxiety still weighting at the back of her mind. She prayed to anything or anyone who would listen that the advice would work. Y/n took a hold of her husbands’ thick forearms moving his hands along her waist and hips to her thighs before dragging his palms to her chest.   Brian too had his own nerves about pushing his wife or the ever-creeping doubt she simply didn’t find him attractive anymore. He was so incredibly apprehensive to just be touching his lover as he’d been rejected too many times to the point it felt almost like she hated him. Their old life felt like a distant memory of happier times and burning flames of excitement. “Brian please…” She whined. Calloused hands cupped her breasts with his thumb just brushing her left nipple as y/n squeezed his bicep with a small moan. “This okay?” He muttered against her cheek as his wife’s hands slid up onto his shoulders and pressed them even closer together. “Oh, fuck yes.” A soft mouth attached to hers before moving along her jaw and down her neck. She melted whenever his lips were working the column with soft nips and the effect had most certainly not died. His thumb worked her nipple into a stiff peak as his fingers got involved in pinching and mildly rolling it between his rough fingertips. Her eyes closing involuntarily from the combination of her husband attention and craving to get out of her own mind. Brian’s tongue stiffened and licked along her collar bone before moving down the centre of her chest with a drawn-out gasp of his name. He moved to kiss and lick the underside of her ignored breast with his hand sweeping down her side to gauge her reaction to touching her full arse, Brian’s mouth attached around her nipple with a deep groan that vibrated through his lips. “More.” Y/n gasped as her back arched and pushed her tits out even more. Finally, the apprehension was starting to fade as they fell into step with each other. His fingers knew exactly how to draw on her skin as hers knew the pressure points on his neck to squeeze whenever he hit a perfect spot. Time seemed to slow down as they’re touches sped up with Brian’s mouth crossing to take her other bud between his teeth until his wife was wrapping her thigh around his hips in need some friction with moans that reverberated around the tiles. “Why don’t we take this to bed?” He said, voice deep and dripping with honey.   Without an answer, her mind too full to form words, shaking legs backed her body out of the shower before wrapping herself in the forgotten towel and picking up the warming fresh one from rail before holding out for her husband to step into. For the first time in a while she wanted to take care of him like before, there wasn’t any edge of pain or sadness as he chuckled roughly with the towel stroking over his face and ridding the droplets of water that had fell from his hair. It felt like a dream, like it could all crumble in a second for Brian and into a nightmare. It had done before. Whenever he felt like he was finally getting the light back into her eyes, something would change and then the world would collapse in on her; just leaving two people stood with broken hearts and no way to console each other without further pain. So easily could this feeling of jubilation from just her touching his chin fly into reminders of what he’d done. He let y/n lead the way down the hall and pulling him into their bedroom. She turned to him with a wicked smirk, as she flicked the bedside lamp on, her confidence evidently growing as she threw the last thing covering her naked body to the side. Brian’s jaw dropped once more causing a warming sensation of pride to run through her chest and cheeks. Lips connected back together with smirks and gasps as hands began to roam skin that was untouched for so long. Y/n ran a finger down the centre of his chest to the deep scars on his stomach feeling the muscles of his abdomen tense and shiver under her barely there touch. Nerves and anticipation grew in both their stomachs as a sensual kiss deepened into something far more passionate. Almost silent gasps and moans ran between the two. They could both write a book on the other; for example, all she had to do to get Brian in the mood was softly moan as she kissed his neck and chest whilst he read a book in bed and y/n knees would go weak if Brian pulled her leg around his hip and ran just fingertips along her sensitive inner thigh until a shiver ran down her spine or if his teeth nipped her bottom lip if he’d give her a pseudo innocent kiss and her a teasing slap to her behind; especially effective if it was a routine task she was doing or a seemingly bad time. Namely, either them had to leave the house shortly and she still had about twenty thousand things to do that afternoon. But she loved it, being taken over the sofa or wherever they were in the house, both their clothes just moved up or down enough to get access to their lover. She craved that wanting back; wanting him to take her again and just wanting to be taken. Brian the same, he’d take just being back in the bed for now, but he wanted to complain when he read and reread the same page over and over until he gave in and felt her triumphant smirk all over his body. Y/n gave her husband a gentle and encouraging push towards their bed. They’re lips continued to move together as he pulled y/n with him as he sat on the edge of the bed with his partner falling into his lap with a muffled giggle. Trying to force his back into the sheets, her husband gave a slight shake of his head before roughly yet playfully flipping her onto her back. “Oh, that’s how this is going to go, eh, Mr May?” Y/n was trying to sound teasing, but it just came out as an aching whine when her chest heaved for breath from wild mental overload of the last hour. “I believe I was starting something in the shower and I’d quite like to finish that, Mrs May.” Fingers danced along her ticklish sides as she squirmed under his touch as his mouth dragged and the connected to her hip. He licked, sucked and bit all over her lower stomach and sharp hip bones over her mound and along her thighs. Every minuscule movement caused either a gasp or expletive to leave her lips as her fingers tangled into the sheets to not distract Brian from what he was doing. It wouldn’t have mattered anyways; he was far too lost in teasing her. He needed to feel those little spasms of her muscles or pushing her most private area off the bed as he continued to get closer to actually having his mouth there before kissing back to her neck. Y/n instantly started to try and push his shoulders back down, groaning in his ear quietly about how much she needed her partners touch. Just as her back arched and tried to grind herself against his thigh Brian, shifted to lay next to her and his hand ghosted down her stomach. Long fingers parted her sensitive lips as he groaned and felt the wetness already pooling at her entrance. Holding her apart with his index and ring finger his middle dipped at her entrance and dragged the fluid upwards to gently stroke over the hidden shaft of her clitoris. Brian watched his wife’s eyes close tightly, her back arching at the barely their touch as she pulled his face to hers and began to moan against his lips as her hips rutted and moved his finger along herself. “Don’t tease me. I can’t take it.” Y/n all but whined causing a low rumble with a hint of laugher to rise from Brian. She always was so needy, another day, when they’d reconnected fully, he’d tease her, tie her to the bed and really make it tortuous. “I said I wanted to be yours. Make me yours like you promised. I want it. I need it, Bri.” The smallest and softest kiss was pressed to her lips, barely even any pressure before he was sliding off the bed and onto his knees on the discarded towel. Brian yanked y/n with a surprised squeal towards him with. Strong hands pushed her thighs over his shoulders and massaged the tension he found. “As you wish, my love.” He peppered kisses and soft licks to her inner thigh and y/n pushed onto her elbows to take in the scene before her. He looked absolutely fantastic with his wet hair and eyes blown with lust as he teased his lover. A playful tongue flicked along the tendons were her legs melted into intimate skin before dropping more kisses anywhere but where she craved him. A gasp ran through her throat as she breathlessly begged for more. “Please. Please. Please, baby, please. Baby more.” Brian let the words float for a moment, hearing her almost pathetically mewling for him. He’d craved this for so long and now he wanted to savour every second; memorise every line or movement and taste against his lips. A long stripe was licked along her lips with a flattened tongue, instantly rewarded with a hiss and squeeze of her legs. Y/n looked down to her partner with a moan as she brushed a drying curl out of his eyes. Using a smile of bliss, she gave him a confirmation which made butterflies erupt in his stomach, as their eyes remained locked his tongue pointed and opened her before pushing his face between her legs with a satisfied hum. Hot and wet, his tongue began to tease circles around her pulsing bud. Y/n was in absolute heaven her mind was clear of everything but their little sanctuary and neither her hand nor vibrator had come close to getting her this aroused as he could. She could feel the slickness ever growing and mixing with his saliva as he closed his eyes and head shook as he licked her like the best thing he’d ever tasted. His hand had her locked down across her stomach, gripping her hip so hard it would almost certainly leave bruises as she entangled her fingers into his hair to keep that much needed stimulation. Y/n’s eyes fluttered shut as his tongue hit a partially sensitive spot, but she caught her own scream with her teeth digging into her lower lip. Brian’s keen ears heard the change of tone and he looked up to such a beautiful sight but god he needed to hear her moan his name again. His hand left her hips allowing them to instantly be bucking to his mouth more and pulled her lip free. “I want to hear you. Be as loud as you want, my darling.” He smirked, before pressing back to suck and kiss her clit feverishly. “Inside me. I- I want- holy fuck- your fingers inside me.” Without thought he pulled back earning a long groan of annoyance before he sucked his finger into his mouth and sat back on his heels to see her entrance dripping for him. “Babe?” Y/n asked as she saw his jaw go slack and doubts filled her suddenly. “You’re so unbelievably wet.” Two fingers went between her sensitive inner folds as his fingers coated themselves with the thick arousal and his wife moaned at seeing her husband so deeply engaged with her body. “So wet for me. Your little clitoris is throbbing, darling. Can I put these in you now?” Frantically she nodded with the heel of her foot digging into his back with wordless pleas. Y/n dropped herself back fully into the downy sheets, no longer able to hold her body up with the tension ripping her muscles.   Both of Brian’s fingers circled her hole and his arm slipped back around her hips to hold her in place as the moans grew in volume. He had the best fingers, as if they were made just for y/n. They were slender but so long and his touch could flip from gentle and sweet with whispers of love and admiration falling from his lips to roughly finger fucking her with unmentionable fantasies being grunted in her ear. The two digits began to push inside of y/n each knuckle being squeezed, and his movements held until her opening relaxed around him to take a little more. “Just fuck me.” She groaned trying to flick her hips under his strength. “I don’t want to hurt you. You’re extremely tight… again.” He smirked at the last element to his statement. It did all feel strangely familiar yet new and exciting just as it did when they first met. “I can hear you being a smug bastar-“ Her voice cut off as Brian’s thumb reached out and began to flick her clit when he was fully taken in. “Smug, you say?” He laughed and received a small kick of pleasure or playful annoyance; he wasn’t going to question either way. His mouth connected back to replace his thumb. Y/n instantly began to arch off the bed, her legs tightening around Brian’s still damp hair and locking her ankles in the centre of his shoulders to aid her rocking herself against his tongue. “Fuck! Brian!” Her moans were so loud as she arched for him and his feet shook slightly in pleasure against his back. It didn’t take much of his fingers curling into her tight heat to have her shaking on the edge and with loud moans. Y/n reached one hand above her head to grab the sheets and the other to force her fingers between Brian’s on her hip. Her knuckles where white as his thumb lovingly stroked hers in contrast to the hard and precise flicks of his tongue as he wrote a thousand promises against his wife. He promised to be true, dedicate every moment of his life to her and be on his knees for only her; whatever her needs. “Keep going. I’m close.” Brian’s efforts ramped up. His fingers moving as fast as possible as his chin was cupped in his palm and feeling the deep groans through his jaw as she started to clamp down to almost pain on his fingers. “I’m going to cum… I’m- fuck- I’m-“ A long moan left her mouth as her orgasm took over. Y/n had Brian clamped by her thighs and her nails were surely digging into his hand enough to leave imprints as he tried to keep enough contact to work her through her high and draw it out as much as possible. Long fingers continued to curl inside of her, rubbing the rough area of her gspot, as she spasmed around them and his tongue sucking and licking any bit of wetness he could. “Fuck! Sensitive.” She muttered with her eyes still tightly closed and her lip pouting out as she pushed his mouth away from her. Brian was panting just as hard, not that he realised how he was struggling to breath, until he wiped his face; making his wife cum was far more important than air tonight. He hadn’t had a release yet but his mind had equally blanked on anything except for how her body writhed in ecstasy, how her rib cage exposed itself as she gasped or the pornographic moans falling from those beautiful lips mixed with the sweet taste against his tongue and steady pooling of her down his fingers and into his palm. “Hard one?” He asked, kissing her inner thigh and his fingers softly pumping in and out of her perfectly pink centre. Y/n could only just about muster a nod. “Been a while, hasn’t it, darling?” “Too long.” Y/n said, she didn’t really have much to say for pillow or dirty talk, but she loved to listen to his soft voice asking or saying the most perverse things. “Do you feel like mine again, my love?” A sharp nip to the tender skin making her whimper. “Yes.” She whimpered. “If I could, I’d spend every evening between your legs. You taste so beautiful and feel so incredible. I just love devouring you. I’ve missed doing this to you so badly. I crave you like no other, my love. I love you so much, but no one physically has ever had me like you. You do understand that it’s you for me. Always.” “Forever…” y/n squeezed his hand, their wedding rings knocking together almost symbolically in the moment with no other sound. “I know. I know. I don’t doubt you.” Brian kissed his way back up her body but keeping his fingers inside of her in a want to be one with his wife in every possible way. However, she gently pulled away his wrist and moved further onto the bed, both of them on their knees as they kissed and held each other’s hips. She could taste herself on his lips, but she wasn’t ashamed to moan out. He was finally hers, covered in his wife and no one else. The red spots didn’t concern her anymore because they didn’t exist anymore. He smelt like home; his aftershave, her perfume and fresh country air. The past needed to be put to bed for both of them; they needed each other more than ever before. Y/n let out a small yelp as she pressed her hips into his and felt an already raging erection. “And what would this be?” She grinned, stroking his length ever so slowly. Brian instantly groaned, his lip between his teeth until her index finger pulled it loose. “Ah ah ah. I want to hear you.” Y/n dropped onto her elbows in front of him, moving her body to be across his, allowing him access to spank or touch her, as she took the already red and leaking tip of his cock between her full lips. He tasted as he always did, the sweetest she’d had but easily the biggest, meaning she could never take him close to fully. With innocent eyes she looked up, seeing his expression already tense as she slapped the head of his cock against her tongue before pushing as much as she could between her lips and wantonly moaning. The sadness may have momentarily passed but the situation still felt different to how it once did. Brian’s hands didn’t immediately come down on her or sweep her hair away to up his visual. She wondered how he felt in the moment; he was trying so hard to reassure y/n but it wasn’t lost on either of them the last bit of sexual contact they’d had she’d dragged his orgasm out whilst encouraging him to use her mouth for his own pleasure. Brian’s guilt was ever consuming him to the point he couldn’t allow himself to be sheathed inside of y/n knowing how he’d betrayed her. In her mind, she would do anything and everything she possibly could to help him be happy. She was his wife after all and although she would never describe it as her duty to pleasure him, if she could fuck him into some relief and sleep, she would. “So good… baby, so perfect…” “Bri?” His eyes opened as he helped his wife back to her knees and their arms wrapping around each other. “Yes, my love?” He asked, brushing her now dry waves with creeping concern at his wife’s sudden demeanour change. “What’s wrong?” “I just need you to promise that you mean this? You mean tonight. I know it’s silly, but I just need to hear it.” Her eyes reflected conflict and pain in them both only his where blown dark with arousal. “I love you. I want you. I need you. You’re my wife. You’ll always be the love of my life. It’ll be work but I will do whatever you need… Shall we cuddle for a while?” He was already motioning to lay down but the words of her friend and therapist rang in her ears. “I’d love to cuddle up with you, my darling.” ’Claim him’  “I can just ride you for a while?” Brian didn’t know what to say, his jaw loose as he somehow murmured a confirmation. He didn’t need any help, but she still jerked his cock a few times to take it back to its full hardness. He’d always felt incredible in her hand and the power to make this tall, handsome and strong man crumble to whimpers was joyous. Y/n sat astride her husband’s thin thighs as she moved her hips to brush along his length caused an unbridled hiss from Brian when he felt the first bit of heat. Her confidence was one again starting to reform. Her hands fell onto his chest as the head hit her still sensitive clit. “We don’t have to-“ he whispered, brushing back stray hairs as he watched her face intently. “Yes, we do.” “I’m more than satisfied making you do that. I don’t need-“ “I do. I need to do this. I need to make you…” Slowly y/n sank down onto his length with a long moan. “Inside me. I need you to…” It felt like when they first started dating or he’d go away on tour; that familiar stretch of how well-endowed he really was. “Fuck.” It took all his willpower not to flip the positions and fuck her with every fibre of strength he could find but the tightness, the wetness and the emotions combined. His mind was drowning in overstimulation and he knew he couldn’t possibly last long. Rough hands where like magnets to her waist now, encouraging the slow grind as he focused all of his being into her. “Just like that.” Brian whispered as his wife’s hands clawed lightly at his chest. “You feel so perfect, y/n.” At the utterance of her name, her cunt gave a sharp squeeze to his cock. That’s what was missing, she feared somewhere well-hidden it wasn’t her he pictured when he closed his eyes. Her hips sped up just a little bit, longer strokes as she rode him. “Promise you love me?” Her manicured nails dragged across his chest leaving pink lines on his pale skin as her hips rocked fully at speed now. It broke his heart to have to tell her something she should indefinitely know. “I promise… This is how I love seeing you, y/n. What keeps me going on the road and those dirty videos you send obviously help.” Y/n gave a small smile but closed her eyes in pleasure starting to build again. “I’ve missed you around me so much. You have no idea how wonderful it feels for the one person you love to have you literally inside of them. We’re one, you and I, y/n.“ “I love you. I love you so much, Brian.” Her voice was desperate, broken as she chased her release and tried so hard to claim his body. Their hips rocked together with breathy moans and Brian brushing both their untamed locks from their faces. “God, I can’t wait to feel you cum on my cock. Can’t wait to pound into you and feel you tighten. You say my name prettier than anyone ever could.” Unexpectedly, she moved from his length, on all fours as she waited in the middle of the bed. “I want that. I want you to take me hard. Make me scream your name. Use all your body on mine.” Brian scrambled into his knees with his hands magnetised to her cheeks as he laid out a heavy slap. Her form jolted forward with a moan being dragged across her lips. It wasn’t their usual sex but the freedom to be loud was never something he wanted to let pass them by and in these situations, he couldn’t refrain from doing so. “Sorry.” He muttered, dropping an apologetic kiss on her back. “Don’t be. I liked it.” Lining his already wet cock with her entrance, Brian took a deep breath and reminded himself to take his time knowing how it was all be over far too quickly. He ran himself through her sensitive folds as little whimpers of approval cascaded from y/n. Her face was tightly scrunched and pushed into the duvet as her hips pushed back searching for more stimulation mixed with the incredible feeling of fullness that only Brian could bring her. Another harsh spank came down to her cheek, his fingers rubbed the area; he wanted both to cause it to redden but also caress and tease his lover. “Punish me.” Brian’s ears just about heard the weak murmur. “Why?” “I’ve not been a good wife.” “I’ll punish you for putting yourself down only.” He lent forward dropping a chaste kiss to her shoulder as his hand gave another burning slap to her hot skin which only made her hiss and groan further. Brian’s hard cock slipped back inside of y/n as she pushed herself onto him. He let out a deep groan as he indulged himself by holding her open and watching his glistening cock being bounced on as her lips and opening dragged around his shaft. ”You’re so perfect.” He whispered. “So perfect for me.” “Yeah?” Y/n mumbled and got onto her hands with closed eyes in hopes of freeing her mind again. “Hit me again.” His large hand covered most of her cheek as she groaned from the pain slowly turning into pleasure. “Fuckkkkk…” y/n collapsed forward again but reached her hand behind her, clicking her fingers until she felt his palm against hers. She moved her hair to one side and bit into cover underneath her in pure pleasure. “I love you. Only you.” It felt electric, their bodies crashing into each other’s as Brian didn’t give her a moment to adjust before he was slamming himself deep within her. Y/n could do nothing more than moan and rock in time with his set rhythm, but she could hear his low panting growl and knew he was just as into this as her. He crushed her hand in his and lent forward to use her shoulder as a holding point to use even more force in their desperation. “Feels so good.” She whimpered under her husband’s strong hands. “I want you to cum in me. Do you feel like I do?” “It’s about to feel even better. Come here.” He whispered, pulling y/n’s arm and shoulder until she had her back pressed against his chest whilst he peppered kisses to her shoulder and exposed neck. “I want to be with you. Make love with me, baby. I’ve missed you with me.” Brian’s left hand took a hold of her jutting hip bone and his right looped her body and turned her flushed face to his. He pressed a gentle kiss to the corner of his wife’s mouth. Her husband knew how much she enjoyed positions of this variant, always in the shower, or a quickie when they were on a time schedule. She loved how easily he’d stimulate her g-spot and how deeply his cock would press into her and the intimacy of his hands having the full play of her body. Brian couldn’t lie and say it was fantastic to have his wife whimpering under him as he toyed with her clitoris or breasts and could suck and bite into her neck and feel the incredible tightness around his shaft. Y/n couldn’t wait however, pushing his fingers towards her aching wetness. Brian mewled in her ear as he found his fingertips once again brushing between her soft lips and feeling the hardened nub twitch under his tight circles. “Fuck… just there.” She moaned as their hips met in perfect, rehearsed rhythm. The tightness around his cock was elevating and make it almost impossible for Brian to keep time as he bit into her neck with a groan. ”I’m going to cum… Fuck, Bri, ” she whimpered once again and grabbed onto his hair to pull their cheeks together. Hot breath fanned over her skin as she listened to get husband moan her name as he slammed into her and tried to hold back his own orgasm. Pressing a kiss to his cheek she whispered for only him. “Cum with me.” Both their efforts on each other amplified; her bouncing and arching her back and the sharp snap of Brian’s hips against her backside with his hands pulling her even to him. He groaned and grunted about how much he loved her, and she started to almost scream his name as the tight knots in both their stomachs began to grow and tighten. Y/n kept her head turned to kiss any part of his face she could and give him a show by squeezing her own nipple to intensify her bodies reaction to him. Y/n started to clench around Brian’s cock, seeming to beg for his orgasm. As much as he wanted to hold off, he simply couldn’t as he opened his eyes to the curve of his lovers body, her hand on her own breast and his between her legs with her hand squeezing his wrist and the other tugging deep in his mass of curls. “Yes! I’m so close… Cum with me please!” She moaned breathlessly as she felt his thrusts become erratic and the warmth of relief starting to spread from her centre. Her thighs tingled as her climax fully took over her body, hips spasmed as she loudly moaned. Orgasms halted any thoughts but of them reaching their peaks together. Her cunt claimed his release with every pulsating squeeze of her muscles as her hips took over the movement of sliding up and down his twitching length as Brian moaned quietly and kissed his wife’s neck as she tugged his hair with the last ebbs of her orgasm fleeting through her body. “Done. I’m done, babe.” y/n whispered, kissing his cheek as she pulled away his hand that hadn’t stopped the consistent circles on her clitoris. Usually he’d be far more in tune with her, but y/n could tell her husband was in the final grips of his own pleasure. Brian’s eyes were closed as he felt himself finally stop shooting inside of her walls. They’d both surely be painted by the load he’d fucked deep within her. Both stayed wrapped up and gasping for breath enjoying bathing in the afterglow after so long. Brian loved her how her body felt, all warm and pressed against his chest, her shampoo scent and the taste of her lips in his mouth , how he could feel his seed already dribbling down his shaft with her juices was downright unexplainably incredible. He nuzzled into her shoulder, his arms tightly around her waist with one of hers on his cheek and the other onto of his arms, as he laid gentle kisses anywhere, he could. Part of him never really knew if they’d ever experience this feeling together again. “That was amazing.” He muttered as he smiled softly at his wife’s kisses falling against his cheek bone and tilted his head around to deeply kiss her. “You know, you’re the only thing holding me up right now.” She gave a feeble laugh, but she wasn’t going to do anything to change it. “I feel like jelly.” “You just feel nice to hold.” Brian’s honesty and squeeze made her heart bloom, small, broken pieces gluing back together in her chest. It was slow but it felt like she had gathered each tiny bit in her chest to allow them to come back and each one still had his name stamped on them. “Let’s get cleaned up.” “I can’t stand Brian, let alone shower. That’s what you do to me.” He placed a few kisses to her exposed neck, whispering things she couldn’t make out. Y/n hissed slightly in overstimulation as he pulled himself out, his load already starting to fall as Brian moved away and helped her to lay on weak limbs. Y/n saw her husband open his bedside table, a mystery in recent months, and pull out a set of wipes and turned his body away from her view. Quietly he cleaned his fading erection and wiped down his thighs from her juices. Honestly, he wouldn’t have cared but he knew she would. “Can you just come cuddle with me already?” Y/n whined as her eyelids were already heavy with the want to be embraced and sleep soundly for the first time in months. “Just spread your legs first.” “Kinky.” Brian bit back a laugh with a roll of his own eyes when he went to push open her thighs and take a fresh wipe over her mound. The coolness made her gasp and then Brian couldn’t hold back the groan of watching his wife so exposed and her pussy swollen, pink and covered in him. He certainly did not want to take that little bit of himself from her body and neither did she. He was allowed to clean her ever so gently and lovingly. “That stopped your back chatting pretty quickly.” A hand moved to Brian’s stomach, pushing him away slightly but her thumb caressing along his hip bone. “I’m exhausted stop trying to get me going again. Come be a gentleman and cuddle.” Brian shifted his weight over his wife to ‘his’ side of the bed and yanked the covers out from her legs before draping them over both of their naked bodies. He flicked off the bedside light to blacken the room. “I don’t want to fall asleep yet…” y/n muttered already drowsy, her eyes closing and opening slowly. Fingertips held her chin as he slowly kissed every part of her face before pressing an affectionate kiss to her lips. “Go to sleep. You need your sleep, angel.” He knew neither of them had barely slept in months, so he passively allowed her to manoeuvre his body onto his back and one arm around looping her shoulders and the other clasping their hands together on his abdomen. Her head rested against his chest, occasionally kissing just above his heart as she fought to stay away until she felt Brian’s breathing turn slow and deep. The shrill ring of the telephone on her bedside woke y/n with a jolt. Brian groaned, squeezing his wife’s body currently being spooned against his. “Take it off the hook. It’s bloody late.” Angrily he muttered with a full rasp to his voice. “Hello?” Y/n pressed the phone to her ear without even opening her eyes fully. “Just in bed… Yeah it’s- Jesus- three am. Of course, we’re asleep… One second,” she knocked the phone into Brian’s shoulder. “Roger wants you.” “Seriously, what do you even want at this time?” Brian was certainly not a morning person. “Just letting you know all is well. Back home. Bought your kids a burger rather than that rabbit food you insist on feeding them.” Rogers voice was teasing as he put together the various scenarios in his mind. However, he couldn’t lie and say it wasn’t a weight of his mind for his friend’s happiness. “Thank you…” Brian yawned, rubbing his eyes but also hearing Rogers knowing smirk through the line. “I’ll pick them up tomorrow lunch time, I guess. I’ll do the taxi next time.” “Have fun… Sleep well.” Brian threw the receiver back onto the bedside table. With a long sigh, he wrapped his arms around his dozing wife, but he knew sleep wouldn’t claim him again. Yet he stayed huddled up under soft blankets with naked skin against his pressing a loving kiss to her ear. They lay in each other’s embrace with Brian’s watching the red numbers of the alarm clock change in hopes of falling asleep. “I can hear you not sleeping.” Y/n groaned and rubbed her face into the sheets. “Bloody hell…” “Can’t sleep now either?” “No… but I’m happy just laying here for a while…” Y/n rolled in his arms, her face instantly nuzzling into his slightly stubbled neck with a sigh. “I’ve got to get up.” Brian whispered as he kissed the top of her head but received a needy groan. “I’ll come back soon. Tea and then back to bed.” “Fine, you owe me breakfast in bed.” “Breakfast of champions.” Brian muttered cheekily just loud enough for her to be able to decipher what he meant after a few moments thought. He received back a slap to his shoulder with a giggle as y/n pressed herself deeper under the warm covers of Brian’s side. “Dickhead.” Brian slipped from under the covers, careful to make as little noise as possible until he had the bedroom door shut behind him. He grabbed his plaid pyjama pants and soft sweatshirt from a tour long gone by.  Standing on the landing, his fingers ticked over his chin with a huge grin breaking onto his face. Utter disbelief and over whelming happiness ran through his every fibre as an unusual spring in his step happened as he started to descend the stairs. He couldn’t, however, resist the urge to hop back up and peer into the room. His wife looked ethereal; hair covering their pillows as the sheets tucked around her body but kept her shoulders exposed and one small, purple bruise on display. “Stop watching me sleep, you weirdo.” A breathy laugh fell from his lips, drumming his fingers against the door. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to…” “I’m up now. I couldn’t go back to sleep anyways. Make me a tea to apologise still though?” “Sure thing.” Brian tapped the door one more before flitting to the bed and pressing his body over hers. Y/n’s arms circled her husband’s neck with a contented smile as she pulled him into a long, chaste kiss. Y/n stretched her body, pushing her hands into her now dry hair, delightfully rolling her body against his; he kissed along her now exposed neck as he moved away. “I’m just nipping to the bathroom to brush my teeth.” Y/n shook her head at her husband’s little quirks. Almost instantly when he was out of bed, he had a toothbrush in his mouth. She’d missed those little intricacies so incredibly much, but she hadn’t realised how deeply until now. “My hair is so tangled; do you have a hair tie? Even if you were definitely on my wall at university, I didn’t think I’d marry someone with hair to his shoulders.” “No bobbles in here. Try your dressing table and then try the bedside draw. Might be some kicking around in there.” Brian shouted as he tried to wrestle his own matted curls, before wandering back through the bedroom, throwing her silky grey robe to y/n as he strode confidently to the hallway. “Anyways, would you rather I’d gone bald?” “Oh, certainly not. You’d look so incredibly… weird. You’d look even more ridiculous!” Y/n grimaced at the thought as she heard Brian’s brisk footsteps down the stairs. Herself, she went to use the bathroom, to look around and rinse her mouth with mint mouthwash, she loved Brian but his ability to miss something clearly in front of his face was unprecedented. She had a quick scan around but nothing that would even begin to be able to be repurposed. Back in the bedroom, the nightstand top was fairly clear; his book barely read, the bedside lamp with a small covering of dust, alarm clock and random trinkets Brian played with before sleep that she barely understood what current obsession they were linked too. She pulled open the draw; pushing aside the wipes and could stop the small blush rising through her cheeks at the sight of a new bullet vibrator and small bottle of lubricant. “Well someone had hopeful plans…” y/n muttered to herself with a giggle. Then the box at the back of the draw caught her eyes. An open box of condoms with a strip of foils already hanging out. She clasped a hand to her mouth in shock as her body started to shake in adrenaline, annoyance and furious anger burning in her spine. Y/n yanked the dressing gown belt tight around her waist as she pulled out the box and ran downstairs. Brian was in the kitchen, already lent against the worktop as he waited for the tea to brew. He rubbed his tired eyes with a long yawn before the box flew into the centre of his chest. Brian, looking down at the purple packaging at his feet and then to his wife glaring at him across the kitchen table. “What the fuck are these?!? Why the fuck would you have condoms?! Do I repulse you that much?! You don’t even want to be against me? Are you fucking her still?!” Tears starting to streak down her face as he stood completely immobile. “Did you fuck her in our bed?” “No-“ “How many other people have you fucked whilst we’ve been together? Are you still messing around behind my back? Oh my God, I’m so stupid!” “No.” He sighed in desperation as y/n turned with a frustrated groan towards the door. “Get out.” “No!” In just three strides he was blocking her exit door with his body, hands holding her shoulder as he looked into her eyes. “I didn’t know if you’d want to use them. I was just prepared for every situation.” “Oh really?!? Where the fuck has the first strip gone, Brian? You cheating fucking cunt. Get out of my way.” He held her fast as she tried to squirm from his grip. “I have three sons. Two are teenagers. I watched my best friend waste away and die because he caught something, and I would have a million hideously awkward conversations to make sure they know that no one’s going to panic or berate them for having contraception. I asked their brother to just say that they were there, just in case.” “Where?” Y/n challenged him as the revelation shook her to the core. She couldn’t fully trust her husband yet, but she wanted to believe him but the horror of her babies becoming men was a thought she could not comprehend. “Boys bathroom cabinet. Behind all that crap they put in their hair.” Their eyes remained locked as she searched his for any hint of lies. “Go look if you don’t believe me.” Y/n knew she shouldn’t, it went against everything their therapist and friends would advise but she still found her legs moving her quickly up the stairs and into the bathroom. It was always disgusting with wet towels on every inch of floor but all her eyes, still shivering with anxious tears, could focus on was that horrible mirrored cupboard. In the left-hand lower corner was a jammed section of products all half covered in their contents in a vague attempt to hide the glinting purple behind them. He wasn’t lying. Y/n let out a heavy sigh from a caught breath as her eyes closed in humiliation to how stupid and quick to assume she’d become. Another fleet of autopilot had her legs walking back downstairs. “I couldn’t sit back and, they’re not by the way, but… if they did, god forbid, catch something or got some girl pregnant. I’d barely be able to live with myself. You always thought they were too young, so we just kept it between us four. I’m sorry. It was my mistake to lie by omission.” Y/n turned to see Brian lent against the door frame, his forehead was tense but he had that look in his eye when he was being open and truthful, even if it hurt. He didn’t speak about his son’s namesake, Freddie’s illness almost ever, and y/n trusted he’d never use his friends passing as an excuse. “I’m so sorry.” Y/n slammed her body into his with her arms instantly locking around his neck to keep their embrace. The force took them both back a step into the kitchen.  “I should have thought. I saw the other things in that draw and I put two and two together and got four million. I’m so stupid.” Brian stroked along her hair. It may not be what he’d thought would happen and far from perfect, but he still wanted to try and earn her trust. “No, you’re not, y/n.” His stubble scratched y/n’s forehead as she rocked on her tiptoes trying to be close to Brian’s height. “Shall we write this one down to experience and move on?” Y/n nodded as he squeezed her body with a comforting rock. “How can you be so calm and forgiving all the time, Bri?” “The same way you can; we love each other. I want to be with you.” “I will learn how to trust you again. Until that happens, if we can’t be normal for a while, we can, at least, be a stable relationship. Stability to start with. Build up.” She whispered. A statement made just as much for herself as her husband. Brian held her hand as they walked silently back into their kitchen as he tried to hold a routine domestic conversation about changing the colour of the dining room as they sipped their tea sitting next to each other at the kitchen table. “There’s another in the pot if you want it?” Brian refilled his own with the steaming cup between his fingers. “Finally going to send me to sleep, I hope. Might watch a bit of tv to try and bore myself to into napping until morning.” “Will you take me outside to look at the stars? Use your fancy space vocabulary and romance me like when we were young.” he could tell his wife wasn’t happy, the way her bare foot tapped on the titles with a small slap and the words she did say, rushed from her mouth. However, he’d still do anything to make her happy; if it was possible, he’d find a way to do it. Wordlessly, Brian stood up, holding out his hand for y/n to take. “You have no clue how happy you saying that has made me.” “Promise?” It was barely a whisper as she slipped her hand into his much larger one. “Promise.” He brought her fingers to his lips to seal that promise. Brian pushed his feet into those horrible clogged shoes he insisted on wearing that made him even taller. The next thing on her list was almost certainly to try and buy him some more trainers or something he could slip on and off that wasn’t those bloody awful shoes; god forbid anyone ever introduced him to gardening crocs. “Footwear?” Brian asked, stopping on the patio step as his wife made no attempt to cover her bare feet or grab anything warm. “Jumper? Trousers? Anything?” Y/n shook her head with a low snicker, grabbing two thick blankets and folding them over her arm instead. “You can keep me warm, hot stuff.”  Brian rolled his eyes as y/n pressed herself along his side. “Cheeky lady. One second,” Taking the blankets in one hand, tea in the other, he jogged as quickly as the fast shuffle of his feet would allow with his shoes dragging to place his tea down on the small table next to the hanging bench just on the start of the grass lawn. She didn’t know quite what he had in mind but the way his eyes lit up in the harsh light was utterly beautiful. He wore happiness the best of anyone she’d ever met. “Right, Mrs.” Brian pulled one of his wife’s arms around his neck and then bent his long limbs as one arm circled her torso and the other another the scooped her body from under her knees. Y/n couldn’t hold in her joy filled laughter as strong arms almost effortlessly lifted her bridal style towards the swing. “Was this what you had in mind?” Brian smirked as she attempted to pull the silky gown down in the breeze and his warm hands held tightly onto her thigh. “Not exactly. This is quite a lot better however.” “So, I shouldn’t just drop you then.” Y/n squealed as he threw her slightly in the air just enough to jolt her body and drag her nails across his neck. “Shouldn’t pretend drop you.” They continued with spirited screams and Brian tickling along her covered sides in complete control of his lover dragging every step out to take his time. Her laugh was his favourite record that was rediscovered years after he thought he lost it. “Okay- Okay- stopppppp!” Y/n wiped away a tear of laughter from her cheek.  They were acting like love dumb teenagers, but they took full and intense pleasure in every laugh, touch or jovial squeal. “Brian Harold May, put me down nicely!” Her husband was never one to follow instructions to the letter so instead sat down with his wife still in his lap with her exposed legs laying out against the cool wood. “I love you.” “I love you more.” His hand crept up her thigh but only to caress the soft skin lovingly as he gazed into the night sky and she into his eyes with a thousand tiny reflections of stars. “I am sorry about that whole thing in the kitchen… It was foolish to react like that.” Brian placed a hand over her knee, rubbing the tension away with his delicate touch before moving it silently to cover her hand. “It’s okay. It’s something we can work on. Be ridiculous to not imagine little blips along the way… I’m sorry that upstairs was rough. I didn’t want it to be like that. I just… I sort of had a vision of just worshipping you and it being incredibly romantic and loving; candles and massages. The whole nine yards. Possibly a little bit of forward planning in the way of ‘tonight is the night’. However, I’ve always loved your spontaneous streak and it’s a treasure when you finally let it out. I can’t say it wasn’t incredibly satisfying to be taken with you on that wave.” Brian raises his beverage to just below his lips, pressing into his chin. “I’m also sorry about the love bite on your neck.” Y/n slapped her husband’s chest as she saw his smirk barely hidden behind his cup. “You are not sorry. You loved doing that… However, I will admit I had purchased some lingerie I knew you’d love. When I got this robe actually. Reminded me of the old you bought me from Japan when we first dated. I loved how nice and fancy that felt on my skin. I wasn’t exactly very fancy when we met.” They both in unison allowed the silk seams to run through their fingertips. “So, your initial plan was to spend hours kissing my every inch and if that didn’t work lube and a vibrator?” “Not exactly…” Brian blushed. “I just wanted you to have a nice time and feel really good. I didn’t care how you got there, how involved I would be, so long as you wanted me close in those moments or just moving onto other activities.” He glanced down to y/n, with her pouting bottom lip at his thoughtfulness behind such a simple act. However, as soon as she saw that cheeky expression take over his face, she knew something more was coming. “There’s also an exquisite glass dildo in that draw that you missed. It’s meant to reflect rainbow prisms on your thighs when the light hits it just perfectly.” “Brian!” Y/n gasped, her cheeks instantly burning from the rising blush. “Honestly, the worlds opened up for me now you can get that variety of item delivered to the door.” “You’re so smug.” “I’m sorry but, are you complaining that I want to give you a thousand orgasms every which way I can?” With another roll of her eyes and hands gently cupping his cheek, she pressed their lips together in a lingering kiss. “Talk to me about the stars, horn dog.” “What do you want to know?” He replied and relaxed his neck onto the curve of the bench back and started to gently rock the swing with his leg. “What’s zodiacal dust? What star is the Big Dipper?” “Well it’s a constellation to start with…” Brian launched into his well-rehearsed speech about almost everything he knew about space dust, planets and the stars, pointing every so often to a particular cluster in the sky and naming whatever intricacies they held and only stopping to sip at his rapidly cooling beverage. She just loved to hear him talk about his passions even if she’d consider herself a rival in knowledge after all these years of hanging off his every word. Her painted nails would occasionally scratch his stubble or break his tempo with a stolen kiss. “Anything else you feel the pressing need to know?” Y/n giggled mischievously as a response jumped into her mind. “Ermmmm… have you ever had sex under the stars?” Brian’s lips fought the curl of a youthful smile as he gave a mocked ponderous sigh with the nape of his neck burning red under her gentle massage. “I believe you were present in that particular instance. God bless that hot summer.” He couldn’t help but bite into his lip as almost lost memories flooded his mind. “Apart from that, no, I have not partaken in such an activity.” Hazel eyes dared to meet his wife’s. “Have you?” “Once again, have never had the opportunity arise before to partake in such an activity. Nor anyone else I wanted to. I do remember it being very romantic though… Worshiped by your lover whist star gazing… If only I knew a sexy astronomer who could take me in his big and, incredibly private, garden which he loves because the lack of neighbours means lack of light so his views of the night sky are uninterrupted…Maybe one with a really, really big… knowledge of the universe.” Now it was Brian’s turn to roll his eyes. “You want to have sex in the garden?” He scoffed. “We’re meant to have grown up out of this behaviour.” “Well yeah, I didn’t bring two blankets out in hopes of one for me and one for you.” “I mean… why not?” Brian assumed this was just some silly game to tease him later. Either he’d agree and she’d mock him for entertaining such a ludicrous joke or call him a prude. “Take those bloody clogs off first though. Not a turn on, I’m afraid.” Dramatically, he flung the horrible, scuffed white footwear high into the air as they landed in two separate spots on the manicured lawn.   “Better?” Y/n pulled Brian into a kiss and almost instantly began to deepen it by sucking his lower lip and then softly biting with a moan when his fingers squeezed her flesh. Her fingers deftly working around the hem of his sweatshirt. “Were you not kidding about this?” She shook her head and began to work her lips over his jaw. “Oh…” Brian moaned as she nipped his pulse point with a large palm dancing up to cup her bum. It was messy and giggly as she pulled him to stand, their height difference amplified as Brian’s regal neck bent to chase her kisses when she moved to pull away. She walked backwards with a beckoning finger till she was further into their garden but nowhere near the thick coverage of trees. Y/n laid out the thickest blanket on the ground, it would keep the falling dew and creeping cold from her back at least. “Are you absolutely sure you want to do this? What if someone sees?” His wife gave no real or valid response instead dropping the silk robe down with a nonchalant shrug of her shoulders. It revealed the tops of her breasts, nipples slightly outlined from the evening chill and the neckline now sat halfway down her biceps. “Let them look?” She feigned pulling the robe apart.   “Okay your spontaneous streak is reverting back to about twenty-four.” Brian quickly wrapped his lover into an encompassing hug with a thinly veiled attempt to cover what should be for his eyes only. “Don’t remember you complaining last time or when we fucked across your studio desk.” She said teasingly. “Firstly, last time was one off. Secondly, that was indoors and a soundproofed room.” “It was three thirty in the afternoon and you recorded it.” Brian gave her his own proud but equally disgusted in himself smirk and flick of his eyebrows. “No one can see in. Come on… Make love to me.” Brian sighed, looking around nervously once more. He knew she was right; it had been his intention to make sure their home was fully private. Ensure it was somewhere they could be a normal family without press cameras pointing over hedges or people who wanted to peek over the fence expecting to be able to see some drug fuelled orgy. He lent down, kissing his wife with an elongated moan as large hands roamed the silk once. That was one of y/n favourite things about her husband; she loved his height and his big hands. Brian was quite soft and gentle in his speech and general demeanour, but he excluded a masculinity like no other man she met. One raise of his voice could shock her back down to earth and feeling the lithe muscles that held so much force and power ripple under her touch drove her wild. He’d protect her like no other, vicious in his attack. Yet, he was not one to hold his feelings or refuse admit his mistakes; it had saved his arse so many times, but it was his most endearing quality. “Oh!” Y/n gasped quickly as she brushed his shoulders before dipping her hand into the neck of his jumper. She left his lips and began to kiss along his neck as her other hand slipped under the hem of his sweatshirt. Brian’s adam’s apple bobbed in his throat as he tried to hold in a moan when she nipped at the nape of his neck. Her hand was cold against the burning skin of his chest as she caused shivers to run down his spine. Brian cupped y/n’s face as he claimed her kisses once more, his body pressed harder to hers and took a dominant position with his feet either side of hers. “Brian…?” Y/n stepped slightly back from her husband as she broke their kisses. “Did you really think I’d fuck in the garden?” Y/n’s jaw dropped, and her eyes went playfully wide as she gave a hearty laugh. “You… I knew you were up to something! Right, that’s it!” Y/n knew what that meant and set off running along the damp grass with a jovial laugh following behind her. Brian too was chasing her but if he actually wanted to catch her it wouldn’t take much. She darted around, trying her best to elude him as fingertips would sometimes pass over his wife. “You’re such a cheeky little thing! You’re going to pay for this!” “No! I’m sorry! Truce!” She slipped on the damp grass, knees landing hard and with hands outstretched and a breathless laugh from the combination of spirting and laughing. “Truce! Please! Take mercy on your wife!” “Never!” His body crashed around hers somehow wrestling her squirming body onto his shoulder and back onto his feet. “Put me downnnnn!” y/n whined and banged her fists ever so softly against his lower back. The amount she’d missed even these physical moments was incredible. Had someone asked just twenty-four hours ago if they were a playful couple she would have answered with ‘only when we first got together. Admittedly children had slowed that down, but they’d always played around together. In the kitchen some lazy Sunday mornings whilst she was busy dancing to the radio and making pancakes, Brian would usually indulge himself by watching for a few minutes until she’d turn and bashfully pop one leg at the knee, hands locked together on her hip and grin. It would always end up with various sticky creams and jams over the surfaces, in their hair, and fingers covered from smearing across their lovers exposed skin. Brian’s wrists would soon be captured in her hands, the sweet tastes on each other’s lips as they’d whisper silly affectionate phrases. Brian sank to his knees on the blanket, throwing her carefully to her back, landing with splayed arms and a smirk on her lips. Y/n spread her legs around and across her husband’s thighs. “Truce?” She asked, holding out her hand for him to shake. “No.” A rapid shake of his head with a scrunch of his nose and even faster her fingers where digging tickles into his soft sides. Despite his body squirming from her sharp fingers, Brian managed to grab a hold of one of her wrists but her right repeatedly slipped through his hold, in part, due to the silky material. His thumb would surely leave a bruise on the captured wrist, but he’d gladly kiss it better and she could wear a small mark of normalcy; more than normalcy. A mark of happiness and hope. “I would like to accept your truce.” As the words left his mouth, Brian finally ceased her wrist and dragged the digits from his oblique muscle. “Ha-ha! Captured.” Brian’s weight shifted forward pushing her wrists to the ground. Biting into the side of his lower lip and shooting his eyebrows upwards a self-satisfied air fell around them. “So, quite the predicament you find yourself in, y/n…” Y/n shook her head at her husband, leaning up to kiss him but not quite reaching. He looks so perfect with his hair darkened in the night and aquiline features beautifully framed with the small pockets of light. “Not falling for your tricks again, Mrs.” “I mean it’s been a while. I had hope you’d want to kiss me just enough to get my own back.” Brian pushed his hips further onto y/n’s, essentially locking them to the ground as he adjusted each finger on her wrists and lent down to place the most chaste kiss on her lips he could. It was such a simple kiss, yet it left her breathless and chasing his mouth as soon as she felt the pressure float away. “Just kiss me again.” She whispered and wrapped her legs around his hips to hold him close with a gentle sway when they connected again. It just felt incredibly magical, like at any point a spell could lift. And yet here they were, making out like teenagers outdoors. Their kisses deepened but only with passionate and love. Brian released one of her wrists as his mind began to swim so cupped her cheek lovingly with a wanton moan. When he pulled away once more his eyes sparkling in adoration for his wife, perfectly mirroring the starlit sky above him. “I’m just so happy to be with you.” His smile was undeniably honest as he tucked a few strands of hair behind her ear. “I’ve missed you more than I care to admit.” y/n whispered back in turn. “Promise you won’t suddenly hate me when you wake up?” He joked with a hazy smile that spread mainly from his caramel eyes and the small lines appearing around them. “Only if dream you does something unforgivable…” Y/n words hung stagnant between them and Brian’s eyes changed to slightly pained or nervous. She’d known him long enough to know it wasn’t a good sign, he’d could quickly get stuck in his own head and the prolonged emotional absence could last for days. “… like watch a series finale without me or something truly heinous. Don’t do that and you should be okay.” Brian rolled his eyes, his wife bringing him towards her with an encouraging pull on his neck for a kiss. It was slow and languid, matching the sway of their hips. The robe had managed to stay tied but much of her left breast was exposed, her nipple just uncovered as the fabric caressed the curve already stiff from the cool breeze. Brian’s eyes trailed over his wife’s chest bashfully; hope of saying something quick witted or sweet evaporating away as his head dropped and slender nose pushed away the covering silk. Warm lips enclosed around her hardened nipple; his eyes closed as his tongue flicked expertly over her. Y/n kept her eyes firmly on her husband, her face turning from satisfied and relaxed to an unbridled whimper within a split second. “Brian!” She gasped his name so sweetly as he hummed and sucked the bud deeper into his hot mouth and his tongue somehow stimulated her to be even harder. Y/n bucked her hips unexpectedly into his, only making Brian lower more of his body against hers and rub the smooth silk covering her other breast. “We shouldn’t. What if someone- oh god!” Her words turned into a needy whine when teeth scraped along the sensitive flesh and made her head fall back into the blanket as one hand tangled into Brian’s damp curls. “Jesus, Bri, what if someone sees?” No answer came just a gentle hum as he sucked her nipple and raised his head until the flesh fell away from his lips. “They won’t.” His voice deep and gravelly in these moments, just loud enough for her to hear. Kisses were pressed to her exposed sternum until he met the deep V of the neckline, slowly, Brian’s hips slid off hers, but his torso remained covering her stomach. Large hands cupped her waist through the silk and his thighs pushed under hers with his knees bent and folded under him. “What are you doing?” Y/n gasped as Brian lightly pushed her upwards and moved her still wet bud between his lips. The long index finger of his left hand slowly hooking between the gown and the knot keeping it secure. “Worshipping you.” He said quietly between wet kisses to her sensitive breasts. “Under the stars.” “Baby… we can’t… not outside…” her eyes tightened as Brian’s nose ran along the fabric and nuzzled his way under the silk at her stomach. His tongue played around her hip bone as her grip tightened, keeping him in place and betraying the words she spoke. “We’ve already done it… you’ve already- oh- made me…” Brian kissed the small marks his hands had left earlier. “I just want you to relax and know how much you mean to me.” “I know what I mean to you, you’re being silly.” Y/n cupped Brian’s cheek as he continued to gently kiss her stomach. “Physically though. That you do something different too me. I’ve missed your body, your whimpers, the way you say my name… I missed it… I need it. I just want to make love to you. Revisit the past a little in the garden…” A confident smirk came across his mouth, winking to try and cover his bared emotions. Y/n sat up with a smile and a roll of her eyes hooking a hand around the back of his neck and pulling him for a kiss. Brian’s hand swept under her buttocks and encouraged her into his lap as he crossed his long legs. Brian’s bottom lip popped out, perfect hazel eyes glistening with puppy dog energy. It was irresistible. Fingertips played over his jaw as Brian dared to steal another kiss. It wasn’t old time, but the passion still burned for them both, reigniting within them time after time in the last few hours. - shiver ran down her spine as the heat of Brian’s chest only made her back feel colder. “Told you to wear clothes.” Brian reached out for the blanket that was abandoned nearby before draping it around her shoulders. “Where were we?” Y/n rolled her eyes once more with a shake of her head, arms stretching back around his shoulders enveloping them both in the soft fleece. Brian’s mind swirled as he snuck multiple kisses from his wife; he knew he was addicted to her lips, but he had idea how much he truly was. A deft finger hooked behind the loosened knot and tugged it apart. “I’m just keeping you warm.” Brian pursed his lips, but his eyes were sparkling pools of caramel. “Just innocently helping my wife.” “If it was innocent, you’d have your top off. That’s how you share body heat.” Two hands slipped into the collar of Brian’s sweatshirt in pure mischief. “Maybe the house would be warmer than.” “Maybe you should try harder.” Y/n challenged Brian with her fingers tickling his shoulders. ”I’m content to be a little chilly if you make some effort.” “I feel like this is you trying to trick me again… or just use me for my body.” “No, tricks. Just us.” Soft kisses pressed to each other’s mouth, nuzzling and holding each other as the air around them finally seemed to start warming up. His hands moved to from her hips to encircle her in a hug, pressing them together. “You still have that fancy lingerie to show me.” He smiled mischievously “So, Sir, you’d like me go inside and put on clothing so you can take it off.” Brian pursued his lips and drummed the fingers of his left hand against her skin. “No, I don’t think I do. Can I place it on a rain check though?” “Save that for another day? I’ve already got it planned in my mind. Getting an empty house, massage oil and candles and really treating you after a long day.” She giggled as her hands moved down Brian’s chest to the hem of his sweatshirt. “Come on. Get naked with me…” Brian sighed, relenting as he tugged off the jersey but was instantaneously rewarded with his wife’s arms holding the black cover around them both and giggling kisses nuzzled into his neck. Y/n pushed herself harder into his lap, moaning in just the way that always made him melt and do exactly what she wanted. Brian, however, knew her tricks and though eventually she’d get whatever she wanted, he could have some fun teasing aswell and began to softly thumb her nipples once more. “Oh fuck…” y/n biting into his neck unexpectedly. “Maybe we should go inside…?” Y/n didn’t wait for an answer as she stood up, extending a hand out for her husband and leaving everything but themselves and the blanket around her shoulders outdoors. She practically threw herself through the patio doors and into the living room, the dressing soon gone and her back into the cushions of their couch with the blanket under her. Brian clicking the door locked and kicking his reading light to the dullest setting. He simply couldn’t miss the chance to have his wife in sight again. Pausing with a gasp, admiring her body on full display for his eyes only. “You’re beautiful, Y/n.” Chilled skin soon landed on top of her own with Brian between her legs, kisses against her lips as they continued as if nothing had changed. His fingers slid between y/n’s legs causing her breath to catch at the cool feeling at her burning heat. “Oh…!” She pushed her wetness against him with nails scraping along his exposed shoulders. “Your hands are cold.” “They’ll warm up.” he whispered as he slipped his middle and index inside and began to motion back and forth against her front wall. Her body instantly reacted with a loud moan and her toes curling into the muscles of his covered calf. “Too much?” Brian whispered as his wife bit into her lip with a shake of her head. Her fingers pushing into the elasticated band of his pants. “I want you inside me again.” Y/n moaned with a voice dipped in tantalising desire. “Please, Bri?” It was too much to bear and physical actions took the place of any words. Kisses became passionate. Brian shifted himself with her hands delicately pushing his clothing down just enough to pull his erection free as he worked them down his legs. Y/n jerked his already hard member just a few times before beginning to moan into his mouth as she ran the warm tip though her wet folds. It was incredible to feel their bodies completely together. His hand gently supporting her head as they kissed and y/n’s fingertips digging into his cheek with an encouragement for his cock throbbing at her entrance. The soft palm around his shaft slipped over his hip as he pressed slowly inside. Every small amount of him that was taken inside felt white hot and almost as if they were made singularly for each other. Brian didn’t give her much time to accommodate; his thrusts long and languid as he made love with his wife. Y/n tilting her hips in rhythm to take as much as she could. “I love you…” She moaned hotly against his mouth. “I love you too, y/n.” His hips were snapping into hers more and more. Bodies bouncing as they collided together. She clawed at his back, leaving pink lines in his creamy skin as she felt the ever-tightening knot suddenly begging to form in her stomach. They rarely used this position but tonight it was perfect. His pubic bone pressing her clit with every thrust as Brian’s mouth moved to bury himself in her neck. “Oh god… just there… don’t stop… Please don’t-“ She was silenced by a crashing kiss. Brian keened against her lips, moving his weight to his hands at either side of her body. “I’m with you…” They both came undone within moments. Neither could tell if her muscles spasming around him or his cock deeply buried inside her with twitches rubbing her clitoris caused their respective orgasms, but it was utterly perfect. They gripped each other throughout, moaning and gasping only loud enough for their lovers’ ears. Brian’s wiry arm shook as he held himself with hooded eyes over her whilst the last ebbs of his orgasm ran down his legs and up his spine. Y/n recovering quietly panting as she sat up to fully press their bodies together with her legs tangling around his. “Thank you…” she whispered, kissing Brian’s cheek before encouraging his body to lay with hers under him and allowing his softening cock to slip from her with both groaning at the loss. “You feel so strong and big around me like this.” Their skin was tacky as they kept themselves as pressed together as possible. His forehead slowly fell to rest on hers, the tip of his nose nudging her cheek as he licked his lips; dry from the cold outdoor air and his panting and whimpering throughout. “I love you, darling. I love you so much.” She knew he was vulnerable, knew how much they’d both gone through in recent hours and even months. Softly she stroked the scratched areas of his back. “We should get cleaned up and really for bed. Our bed. You and I, I want to have your arms around me all night.” Y/n rolled her body from underneath his. Brian rolled onto his back, one hand covering his eyes as his chest heaved, still having trouble with catching his breath. Quietly, y/n cleaned up in the bathroom downstairs, rinsing her mouth with her cool mint wash in there and trying to somehow calm her ‘just fucked’ hair. She hadn’t heard Brian move and could see his mane of curls. “C’mon, big guy. Bedtime.” Y/n lent over the back of the couch and tickled his sensitive sides until Brian groaned. Their eyes met and both softened as he wordlessly began to pull himself from the couch as y/n pulled on the silk of her dressing gown once more. Ever dutiful, Brian trailed behind his wife, locking the door and checking the front, just once more. “What?” He puzzled with a smile as he saw y/n stood midway up the staircase just watching him. “It’s just nice to have my husband back…” she spoke with a small, happy smile. “Locking up the house? That’s what does it for you?” Brian pulled the handle again as the door banged lightly against the frame, his eyebrows playfully wiggling. “Do the washing and you’ll find yourself irresistible.” He jogged the few steps to his wife’s side, her arm around his waist and his across her shoulders. They settled under the sheets of their bed, still crinkled from their earlier exploits. It felt strange to have someone dozing next to her and poor Brian could barely keep his exhausted eyes open as y/n softly kissed his chest and moved her body around his bit his hand held her close along her back. “Goodnight, handsome.” “Goodnight beautiful.” Brian pipped the horn of his car as he drove along Roger’s ostentatiously long driveway. The sun was bright, a burningly hot day, usually would mean the kids would all be lazing around outside as Roger and his wife would sip their coffee in the sun. Tucked in the boot of the car, y/n had already gotten Brian to buy the largest pop up pool the shop had in store for their boys’ summer parties after hearing all about the Taylor’s having their own pool. It wouldn’t be quite as good, but it would do, and they already had arranged for a hot tub to be installed next week. A treat to themselves but mainly Brian just wanting to give his wife the world. “I’ll go around the back. Are you staying?” Brian asked calmly. “Christ, no. Far too hot without the air con.” They let the dog free, the wild thing obviously already sensing the way to her favourite family members as a screech and a blasting splash came into ear. “I knew you were here. That bloody wild dog of yours. You know you shouldn’t adopt the ones they tell you can’t find a home.” Roger joked as he rounded the corner of the house but softened as he saw Brian’s arm draped around his wife for the first time in months. It wasn’t forced. They looked just like themselves, but he could see the happiness literally radiating from both of them. “I know but that’s the pity streak that kept you in the band of all those years.” Brian mocked back before hugging his best friends’ wife and thanking her quietly for sending him home last night.  “We owe you one.” Roger winked to y/n with a discreet nod. “You know it was the name that got me. Maggie May. It made sense at the time.” “Do you want to stay for lunch?” R/w/n asked. “No, Brian’s got a pool to assemble. Thank you though.” He rolled his eyes as Roger let out a chuckle. “How in the world did you get him to agree to that? He’s spent the last twenty years worrying about his bloody grass.” “Ha ha. Very funny.” He rolled his eyes, watching his teenage boys dragging their feet up the stone steps with Rogers own children following behind. “How was the concert?” He got no response but a series of mumbled grunts as they trailed wet bodies inside. Brian wouldn’t change it for the world. “That told me then.” “They do my bloody head in dripping on the floor. It’s fine but I’ve gone flying across the hallway more than once this week already. I don’t understand why they can’t just use towels!” “Mrs Taylor, you are getting grumpy in your old age.” Rogers voice gave a raspy chuckle as the still damp kids appeared with their backpacks and dry clothes. “See you again, micro Brian’s.” “Thanks for last night uncle Rog.” Freddie said, as he hugged his aunt. “Thanks for the chat.” “Go on bugger off, messing up the place with your long legs. Get outta here.” Roger kicking at Harry’s thigh to shove him into walking. The boys had a mini breakdown in the middle of the night when something had come on the radio about their parents, the whole Taylor family had instantly closed around them and comforted the twins as best they could. Harry and Freddie both admitting to each other how much they missed their parents. “Take your bloody wet dog with you! I’ll have to clean that pool now!” “So,” y/n turned in her front seat as the boys got in, damp dog on her cover between them. She started to speak as Brian threw the backpacks in the boot, keeping the pool and the various floats a surprise just for a few more minutes. “Me and daddy were thinking we should all head out to lunch. We’ve got a table outside so Maggie can come.” “Were not little kids. Can’t you just tell us at home if you’re getting a divorce.” Harry had unexpectedly exploded. Brian’s hazel pools flicking to meet his dumbstruck wife’s. “What’s brought this on…” Y/n just about managed to muster. “That’s what the radio said last night. You’d announced and Dad was moving out that night.” Freddie muttered. “That is categorically not true.” Brian spoke up when words had failed y/n. “We respect you far more than to pull a stunt like that.” “Baby boys. We’d never do that to you. Last night, we had a really good chat actually and worked out a lot of things. We wanted to treat you both today because you deserve it.” Harry looked for support from his twin, but Freddie’s own hazel eyes were locked on his clasped hands in his lap. “The corners turned. We’re getting back to normal. I love you both.” Brian hopped in his driver’s seat but turned on his knees to grip one of each of their shoulders. “I love her. We’re a family unit, seven, when you count the big ones.” “Eight.” Harry said just loud enough for everyone to hear. He was fed up of serious conversation after serious conversation. “Can’t leave out Maggie.” “Yeah, dad, why so cruel to Maggie.” “You’re impossible.” Brian gave a laugh, mock choking each of them in turn before driving away, his hand on his wife's knee absentmindedly before her own covered it, as the two boys looked between themselves. “Lunch or no? Your shout?” “Can we visit the music store? I need new strings.” “You’re trying to tell me in our entire house, Harry May, you cannot find one set of guitar strings.” Brian heard his wife chuckle as she rolled her eyes. “Go on then. What about you, Freddie? What’s your plan to milk me of?” “I was thinking about some trainers… I’ve seen these rainbow ones…” he gave a shaking sigh. “I’d like to wear them to pride.” “Can I get a matching pair?” Brian laughed, not quite registering that something more was happening, but the atmosphere thickened again. “I’m gay.” He stated but the words rushed from his mouth as Harry held his breath looking ahead to see their parents’ reactions. “Okay… That doesn’t answer if I can get matching trainers though.” Two sets of caramel eyes meeting in the rear-view mirror. “You don’t care?” Freddie wiped a tear of relief as he felt his mums’ hand over his cheek, fully turned in her seat. “No baby… We love you for you.” “I’ll go to pride with you…” Harry offered his support, working out his brother was gay had taken place months ago but neither had the guts to flat out tell the other. “Me too, if your old mum isn’t too uncool. What do you say? Can we have matching rainbow family trainers.” “I guess so…” Freddie smiled, overjoyed but rolling his eyes at the ludicrous nature of this all.

”I did say this would happen… We did name him Freddie.” Brian smiled with a wink to his family. Brian May looked happy yesterday as he and his wife, Y/n May, took a spot of retail therapy with their twin sons and rescue dog. The family are pictured with a guitar case and multiple bags from a trendy clothing store. Brian kept his wife close as the pair have seemingly put the past behind them as they were pictured together for the first time in months. Our sources said they looked comfortable and content as they shopped around and took in lunch. The rocker happily signed a couple of autographs for staff before they left.

#brian may fanfiction #brian may x reader #brian may x you #queen fanfiction #brian may fanfic #brian mayxreader

[tenjouu]

revolvere (4/?)

facetious plot summary: Lancelot loses his magic upon traveling back in time to the day of Alice the Second’s arrival. How will he save the world equipped with only his winning looks and charisma? Read on to find out!

On this week’s episode of Lancelot’s Big D*ck Energy, Harr beams in to Lancelot’s office to confront him about his magic...

1  |  2  |  3  |  4 : the man in the mask

About Harr.

Lancelot knows, logically, that Harr can manifest in any space by will. He entered the Magic Tower by will, materializing in a flash of brilliant light that sparked horror rather than hope. And then Lancelot died in front of him.

So the next time Harr does it, Lancelot nearly dies again. From a heart attack.

When someone violates the laws of space and time, the world trembles and splits for a brief moment like it can’t repress its wounds. There’s a shimmer, like those mirages on cobblestone under an unforgiving sun, but Lancelot thinks it might be Amon, come two days too early. He’s been had.

He isn’t exactly proud to have been caught with his pants figuratively around his ankles, but he has his letter opener ready in hand, banking on the element of surprise. Ready to fight for his life or die trying.

It’s Harr.

“Oh, it’s just you,” Lancelot says, unable to mask the relief. Dying knocked his facade out of place a little—might have even cracked it, really.

“Were you expecting someone else?” Harr replies coolly, arching an unimpressed brow.

But Lancelot realizes it’s Harr. Harr is actually standing in front of him, in his office (with his muddy boots staining the red carpet).

A living, breathing Harr, albeit scowling and angry. Lancelot recognizes the flatness of his tone for anger, isn’t quite sure what he did to make Harr this mad though well aware that he does deserve all of Harr’s ire—

“What is the meaning of this, Lancelot?” Harr demands, interrupting his brooding. “You can’t—“

His eyes widen upon realizing that he can’t. Can’t feel Lancelot’s magic, that is. He looks like he’s been struck in the chest.

For the record, that makes the two of them. Before dying, it’d been months since he had seen Harr. The last person he saw was Harr. The expression Harr had made then wasn’t of a man looking at a cursed enemy. The expression he’s making right now though is definitely of a man thinking of cursing someone.

Harr, remarkably, doesn’t back away or tense up when Lancelot comes closer. Not like a fugitive would. Nor like a betrayed friend. He probably figures that Lancelot can’t do much harm now.

“You look well,” Lancelot says, content. Harr’s face is a little gaunt, but he seems sound in mind and body. Still angry. Some sticks up places are just permanent. Lancelot makes a noise of satisfaction. “Good to see you, Harr.”

“Loki did say you seem to have gone mad,” Harr says with resignation. He reaches up and presses his fingers into the tender spot on Lancelot’s jaw.

Lancelot jerks back. Because Harr isn’t a touchy person. Also, he doesn’t want to feel the pain. Harr’s eyes narrow at the reflex.

“Did Amon do this to you?” he asks coldly.

Lancelot isn’t sure which part he’s talking about. The no magic part, the bruise on his jaw part, or administering the killing blow part? Oh well. Lancelot decides to milk it for what it’s worth. “It’s not safe,” he says abruptly, channeling every ounce of melodrama from the swirling of his body chakras. “You can’t be here. Amon could come any minute—“

“I’m not going anywhere,” Harr cuts in, steely. When Lancelot chances a glance over, he sees that Harr’s lone visible grey eye has darkened to silver with pure rage.

Lancelot opens his mouth, but Harr whirls right on him.

“You fool,” he says, building momentum. “You stupid fool. You great idiot. You should have known that working with Amon would only bring you ruin. What he must have done to your father, and—and look what—look what he’s done to you—”

“Is that all?” Lancelot asks, voice shaking with unfathomable emotion.

“No,” Harr replies. “I’m not finished. You suicidal maniac. You have the self-preservation instincts of a lemming. I do not understand how you are still alive. Amon took your magic without taking your soul? Do you understand what that means? He’s accomplished what he wanted all along!”

It’s…actually getting really hard. Trying not to laugh. Lancelot offers a wobbly smile that Harr mistakes for fragility, because Harr, though still furious, slowly draws back his temper. The thickness of his magical aura recedes with it. Lancelot only knows because the magical light by his desk flickers. After all, he can’t feel magic anymore.

“So help me,” Lancelot says simply.

“The nerve,” Harr says, without heat. “To think that I’ll just help you.”

“Why else did you come to my office?” Lancelot keeps his expression open, void of deception this time. He knows that he can trust Harr. He’s always trusted Harr. And he hopes that Harr will choose to trust him again, without the pretense of life or death.

“To see for myself if it was true,” Harr mutters unconvincingly. “To see for myself if you had really lost it.”

Harr has always been a terrible liar. Actually the worst. His tips of his ears turn a little red when he lies, you see. He glances left, where the eyes naturally fall when the brain tries to deceive the body. 

Lancelot is glad to see him living.

“I’m sane, I assure you. Now…” Lancelot claps his hands together authoritatively. “Since you’ve agreed, I’d like your protection.”

“I haven’t agreed,” Harr grumbles, but crosses his arms over his chest nonetheless. Warily, he says, “I can set up wards in your office that are triggered by aggressive magic—”

“No,” Lancelot says. “Not for me. There’s a bit of a situation, you see. You presumably already know. Amon has eyes on Alice.”

/

Harr very, very reluctantly agrees to keep Alice under his watch. Conversely, Lancelot thinks in sneaky, sneaky relief, that that means the Black Army will be able to protect Harr and his own ward as their own. Two birds with one stone.

“I didn’t take you for a romantic,” Harr notes, readying to depart. He adjusts his cloak, putting the hood over his head.

“Am I?” Lancelot asks curiously.

“Love at first sight,” Harr elaborates. “Didn’t think you’d be the type to reform out of love.”

Lancelot blinks at him, wondering if he’s been caught. He stares at Harr for the longest time, trying to figure out if he’s been figured out. Harr stares right back.

“There’s nothing romantic about it,” Lancelot finally says. “More tragic than romantic, actually.”

“There’s no tragedy.” Harr points out, puzzled. Harr then offers him his first smile of the night. “It’s good to see you have your priorities straight now.”

Lancelot leans back in his chair, the corner of his mouth quirking up wryly. “My priorities have never changed,” he shoots back, and Harr vanishes with a humph.

He means it. He’ll make Cradle a place for everyone. A home (that Harr can return to).

#ikerev fanfic #ft #ikerev lancelot #can you tell that harr entirely misunderstood all of what had just transpired #can you believe that harr just misunderstood all of what lancelot says at the very end #can you believe that lancelot's implying what he's implying #less of a comedic chapter because we're gearing up for the big boys!! #you may ask...what will lancelot do when amon comes to check in on him and finds that he has no magic? to which i respond... could amon even #use magic in the first place? #my ikerev memory is shaky lmao #i expect that we'll be seeing lots of red army guys in the next one #I Never Fail To Push My Harlance Agenda #harlance #fic: lance changes the world #lancelot: not an ounce of respect in his body

[madameocotillo]

Hello my friends, it is time for Honesty Hour with Ohko. This is yet another episode of me trying to collect my thoughts by writing them out in full view of the public. No read more because I'm on mobile and I don't know how.

Normally I try to be critical anytime my brain tells me "if this one thing was different" or "if only you owned this one item" my life would straighten itself out & my mental health would return to the stability level it was at during the beginning of 2019. It's a common pitfall people fall into, and once they have the one thing done/purchased, there is always another and the cycle starts over.

HOWEVER, I've come to think that my apartment being in the state of disarray that it is, is quite -literally- the singular hurdle standing in between me, and me but with Drive. It didn't weigh on me in early 2019 because I only really moved in around mid-January, but now almost a year later, some rooms are almost non-functional because of clutter and my art space is buried under piles of supplies and junk waiting to be sorted. What energy I do have goes towards keeping it from being gross because I do not like bad smells and feeling icky, but it definitely looks like the mid stage between a sitcom household and an episode of Hoarders.

The main issue that stems from this is I fixate on what I want it to be like, and what I want to be able to do in my own home, but lack the energy to do more than just keep it from getting worse (most days). Because I'm feelin' terrible about not making progress, guilt suckerpunches me hard everytime I try to do anything recreational at home, and the most common result is I sit on my couch watching Netflix from the time I get home till I pass out around 1 or 2 AM. As you might imagine.... this does not make me feel better. But I'm NOT ALLOWED to play games or draw or talk to people, because if I have time and focus to do those, then I have time and focus to spend on my living space!! Doesn't it just sound so logical Ha Ha Ha hA.

It's affecting so many aspects of my life- from not wanting to go out and do things because I should go home and clean, to not allowing anyone (except the best friend who has known me for 12 years and is thus not counted as a Human Social Interaction) to set foot inside my apartment because I am so ashamed of how it looks, to wasting tons of money eating out because I can't face having to dig around in my kitchen just to prepare a simple meal. I was doing so good at the beginning of the year, and it pisses me off a lot that as far as I can tell, this is what's primarily preventing me from having that back!!

The behavior that angers me the most about this all is that I keep setting aside an evening/day/weekend with the EXPRESS GOAL that I will Marie Kondo THE HELL outta my shit, but I never manage to make myself follow through!! Then it's Guilt Time again, because what kind of moron can't double down for a spell to accomplish something that is really important to them?? I know it's the ADHD, but I'm medicated, so it winds up feeling like a personal failing anyways!! If I wasn't super skittish of uppers because I don't trust my addictive personality to be responsible, I am seriously at the point where I would consider doing a bunch of coke so I could shotgun this whole mess in a drug-fueled mania. I won't be taking that option, but that's the general level of desperation I'm feeling.

I have had a brand new, SUPER NICE desktop computer sitting in the box it came in, on the floor, for over a month now because I need to clear off my desk to set it up, but I am Not Allowed to work on the downstairs until I finish the upstairs in entirety. The reason for this? My bedroom is upstairs, and I have already done some of the organizational stuff I need to there, so it is a Partially Finished Job that must be completed before I can start a new task. I know that these rules are fake and technically I can do anything in any order I choose, but I haven't been able to shake the priorities list in my head and it's fucking stupid. It's just such a textbook mental illness sticking point, and I feel dumb any time I think about it too hard.

At this point I think I am just ranting, so in conclusion: My surroundings are negatively affecting my general wellbeing and, along with taking baby steps to address the clutter, I should probably go to therapy about it. Also, if anyone has tips/links to articles about this sort of thing I will happily accept them. I am also not above buying self-help books if one helped you & you remember what it was called.

#ohkotalks #thanks for reading y'all #writing stuff out like this really does help me process #the computer thing is really sticking in my gullet more recently because I can fINALLY PLAY PC GAMES AGAIN TECHNICALLY #and set up my scanner and have a decent monitor to see what i'm drawing and-