forehead four


Request: I’m always a sucker for Bucky x reader fluff so I was wondering if I could request the reader have a panic attack, and Bucky helps them with the “5 things to do during a panic attack” “Look around you. Find 5 things you can see, 4 things you can touch, 3 things you can hear, 2 things you can smell, and one thing you can taste.” thank you!

Bucky X Reader

Word Count: 1955

Warnings: Mentions of anxiety, reader having a panic attack. 

A/N: WELL. I FINALLY finished this request!! I am SO SO sorry this took so freaking long!! I really hope that it was worth the wait!! Great title I know.. Thank you for all of your patience everybody!! I started working on the next parts for Arsonist’s Lullaby and This Means War but they still may take a bit! xo

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anonymous asked:

How would everyone (V too) react to being in a (ง'̀-'́)ง big argument with MC... but out of nowhere she starts swearing in spanish? Hahahaha I'm Mexican and think this would be hilarious, it's canon that at least most of us mexicans swear a lot (sorry for the bad english)

Author’s note: I love this request so much omg I DIDN’T DO IT ENOUGH JUSTICE


  • “MC can you just-”
  • “I can’t understand you please-”
  • “Slow down I don’t know what’s happening-”
  • finally you just stopped and stared at him, waiting for a response
  • “I-I, uhh, lo siento?”
  • he took college Spanish have mercy on this child


  • when the first Spanish cuss word came out of your mouth, one thought crossed his mind
  • she’s so hot
  • BUT THAT DIDN’T STOP HIM FROM YELLING AT YOU IN FRENCH bc two can play at that game
  • so now you’re both standing in the middle of the living room, screaming at each other in two different languages, neither of you knowing what the other was saying
  • of course him yelling in french was super hot too
  • so finally, you took the initiave and shut him up with a kiss
  • “Bedroom?”
  • “Bedroom.”
  • I mean who doesn’t love make up sex


  • she tried to pull out her English to Spanish dictionary but you were going too fast
  • the whole time she just kept messing with her glasses bc WHAT DO I DO IN THIS SITUATION
  • but she was also super fascinated because you were just so energetic  and passionate and
  • yup she definitely loves you more than a friend bye 


  • he is just like wat
  • “MC.”

  • “MC.”

  • “MC-“
  • “WHAT?”
  • “Uhh… why are you yelling at me in Spanish?”
  • Nononono, I mean, why are you yelling at me at all??”
  • “Oh. You didn’t help me with the groceries and I asked you like FIVE TIMES!!!!! I MEAN COME ON, QUE CABR-“
  • And good job V
  • There she goes again


  • when you started swearing in Spanish he just sat back and watched
  • when you finally stopped to catch a breath you glared at him
  • “Are you done yet?”
  • “Sure.”
  • he stood up and kissed your forehead
  • “I spent four months in Mexico on a business trip.”
  • “So… you understood?”
  • Every word.”


  • once you started cussing
  • and you kept walking toward him and using your hands to talk
  • and that’s when he dropped to his knees and grabbed onto your leg
  • this dork
  • you literally stopped mid-sentence and stared at him
  • I mean did he really just say mystical Spanish powers

anonymous asked:

65. You make me feel invincible- Victuuri! Go mar!!! 💖

Ahhh thank you! <3

This got longer than anticipated, whoops. 

(anime/yoi only blog: @viktorkatsuki)

“Viktorrrrrrr!” Yuuri leans in close enough that Viktor can smell the scent of alcohol riding the slurred syllables of his own name, and presses his hands to both sides of Viktor’s face. “How are your eyelashes so long?”

Viktor shrugs, grins at his very drunk boyfriend and reaches out to place a steadying hand on the small of his back. “I guess I was born that way!”

Yuuri squints. His cheeks are flushed and his stare is very, very intent on Viktor’s face. “They’re so long,” he marvels, clumsily tilts Viktor’s face this way and that, examining him from all angles. “Yurio! Come look at how long Viktor’s eyelashes are!”

“Hard pass,” Yurio answers. He doesn’t even look up at the two of them, his eyes glued to his phone, sitting in an armchair amidst the remnants of the dinner party their friends had left behind. 

Fortunately, Yuuri doesn’t seem too bothered. He just continues to examine Viktor’s face with the singleminded determination of someone discovering something magical and life changing. Sure, Viktor knows he’s handsome, but this is definitely mostly the liquor. 

Still, you’d have to be made of stone for Yuuri’s compliments to have no affect on you. Viktor is very decidedly not made of stone, and he’s not at all ashamed of the slight warmth he can feel blooming in his cheeks. What can he say; there’s no one in the world he’d rather compliment him than Yuuri. 

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anonymous asked:

Little Mother's Day cuteness with Cassian and or Poe? Pls thx

“Hey, hey, shhh, don’t wake your mama up.”

Your brows furrowed as the familiar voice of your husband and giggles of your baby daughter woke you up. Peeping out from beneath the blankets, you stifled a laugh as you took in the sight before you.

Cassian was attempting to set a table he must have taken from the mess hall, whilst holding baby Maria in one arm. He was trying determinedly to get a rose to stay upright in a jug by a large cup of tea, and your little girl was trying determinedly to climb onto his shoulders.

“Need a hand?” you asked, grinning sleepily at your little family. Cassian froze, looking like a deer caught in the headlights. Maria squealed joyfully and reached towards you.

“You’re supposed to be asleep,” Cassian said ruefully, giving in to the baby’s wriggles and handing her to you carefully. You smiled softly as you cradled her in your arms, pressing a featherlight kiss to her forehead. She was only four months old.

“And why is that?” you asked absentmindedly, watching as Maria gripped your forefinger in her tiny fist.

He stared at you in shock, and you raised your eyebrows in confusion.

“It’s Mother’s Day!” he told you. “Your first Mother’s Day! We wanted to surprise you.”

Your lips parted in surprise, and you smiled down at your little girl.

“And you made that breakfast over there all by yourself, did you, little one?” you asked in a teasing voice, nuzzling your nose against your daughter’s. You heard Cassian chuckle.

“Well she made the tea, I did the rest,” he joked, sitting beside you on the bed. He wrapped his arm around your shoulders and pulled his legs up onto the bed, tickling Maria’s nose gently.

“Happy Mother’s Day, beautiful,” he whispered, kissing your forehead lovingly.

( @remusparker )

Dravidian Gothic

You stumble into your first meeting with a Tamil native. She nods curtly at you. Sweat trickles down your forehead. Four thousand years of history lie between you. Her nails have been immaculately pointed sharp. There is blood on them. You must not fail. You can not fail. They later find your body behind the dumpster.

The six nasals stare back at you, their eyes full of malice. Was it nya or nga? You do not remember. You continue to practice, you feel them stare back at you. Something shifts in the atmosphere.

You open your textbook, eager to work on translation. You skip the script and move towards the transliteration. The words are all made of Zh. You blink. It is now L. The words mock your ignorance.

Your professor starts talking about your Malayali mid-term project. You tell him that this is a Telugu class. There is no Telugu class. There has never been. The words blend into each other and you are convinced that you will never be able to learn Telugu.

Your words change script mid-sentence. From Tamil to Kannada and Malto. The scripts blend into each other and now you do not know where one begins and where the other ends. You look down. You have been drawing circles for the last hour.

You decide to go to Southern india for an exchange trip. You come to your hotel. You enter a vacant hotel, the streets are empty. The sun does not rise here. It has never risen. The eight Tamil cases prowel the streets. No one has left their homes in a century.

You arrive at Harrapa to learn about the ancient proto-Dravidian language. A sign hangs there. It warns you not to go forward, for many have ventured here and never left. You check your guidebook for information, it is blank. You look back at the sign. It too is blank. In the distance you hear elephants.

Your step-father comments on the harshness of your target language. He does not wake the next morning. You have begun to notice a pattern of deaths.

Escape button or s/o with the guys

 ‘Let’s say Monokuma forces the guys to make a choice between the S/O and the escape button. Which would they choose? (If they choose their S/O Monokuma destroys the button. If they choose the button then the S/O is killed. If they take too long to decide Monokuma will “choose” for them and they lose both options.) (Also, the button is the genuine thing and will let them escape)’

Some parts of this may be confusing but if you have any questions feel free to ask !

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Among The Pines

Summary: Reader mysteriously wakes up in the 18th century and tries to use her skills & knowledge to navigate and survive the Revolution and hopefully beyond.

 Warnings: Light cusing (Reader’s inner voice is sarcastic likes to curse), panic attack type situation, and blood.

 Word count: About 1900

Note: This might become a series, I’m not totally sure yet. This is my first attempt at writing a fan fiction. Any input is appreciated.

Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six

Table of Contents 

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In May 1996, Beck Weathers survived 18 hours in sub-zero temperatures in the “death zone” of Mount Everest after becoming disorientated. He managed to make his way back to camp, suffering from corneal lacerations, hypothermia. He also had a very severe case of frostbite and as a result, had to have his right arm amputated along with the fingers on his left hand. He then had to have portions of his feet and his nose amputated. His nose was then reconstructed with tissue from his forehead and his ear. Four other climbers, including Rob Hall, the guide, weren’t as lucky and perished on Mount Everest. His ordeal is narrated in the novel, Into Thin Air.

Wardrobe Malfunction

Rating: T

Relationships: OtaYuri. Background Victuuri SaMila MichEmil.

Characters: Otabek Altin. Yuri Plisetsky. Yuri’s Grandpa. Others.

Wordcount: 7800+ words (oneshot)

Tags: Alternate Universe. Modern Setting. Aged-Up Characters. Fluff.

Summary: An emergency phone call leads to a fated encounter.

Author’s notes: I wanted to write for this fandom only when I had atleast a 15k oneshot ready but this just got away from me because of this gorgeous art. Also hey there India @irrevocably-delicious and Cora @brickerbeetle you wanted to see my sappy writing, well here it is. This is fluff queen @jubesy approved so you guys don’t have to worry about it being terribly bad.

AO3 Link right here! 

Jazz, rock and Mozart melded sinfully well, thundering on the eardrums of the crowd as the dazzlingly bright and kaleidoscopic spotlights swivel to focus sharply on the models strutting their stuff on the runway. Cameras clicking frantically, magazine reporters whispering furiously in their recorders, the crowd roared and applauded at each creation as they wink, smile, wave and highlight their individual panache under the brand name of international style icon, Yuri Plisetsky.

Yuri sipped his first glass of champagne as Emil cheerily made a handstand with a full split and straightened up before bowing dramatically, sending a flirtatious wink - directed pointedly at the person sitting in the front row next to Sara. The sapphire blue-sea green mix worked spectacularly well with the turquoise stones and sequins embroidered along the stitches and hem of the outfit, making him look like a Genie when the lights hit them. It was bright, colourful, cheesy, filmy and so Emil. 

Which was exactly what Yuri was going for.

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tomato-sickfics  asked:

Liam has a bit of an upset stomach while him and Vera are driving somewhere that will take a few hours to reach, and he's the one driving. Once Vera notices the signs of his nausea, she insists that she take over driving, and lets Liam try to relax, but he's too nauseous. Liam feels so ill that he can't even recline back, and is sitting straight up, hunched over a plastic bag waiting for the inevitable. unfortunately Vera can only offer verbal comfort.

Liam’s leg bounced anxiously. His hand was on the steering wheel but the other was on his belly, discretely massaging. It had been upset since he woke up that morning. Vera slept soundly in the passenger seat. They were driving to visit Vera’s sister and new baby. They lived six hours away and they were only an hour in.
Already Liam wasn’t sure if he could do this.

He released a slow breath, trying to keep in control. His stomach felt like it was contracting over and over, flipping around the breakfast he’d forced down.

He let a burp escape his lips and a slight groan with it.

He didn’t want to wake Vera, but that problem solved itself. He swerved dangerously to miss a car, he’d been distracted by his stomach.

Vera sat up and took a second to realize what was happening. She looked over at Liam, who was now breathing slowly through his mouth. He looked sick.

“Liam? What’s wrong? Are you okay?” She asked, and he swallowed.

He shook his head.

“Okay, okay. Pull over, baby. Let me drive, okay?”

He nodded, unable to muster the ability to argue.

He pulled over on the shoulder, his lower lip trembling.

“Liam, come on, why don’t you try to get it up while we’re stopped? Maybe you’ll feel better?” Vera suggested, unbuckling her seatbelt.

Liam shook his head, his lips in a thin line. He didn’t want to.

“Liam, come on… why don’t you try?” She asked.

He simply shook his head again. He swallowed hard.

“’M fine. I just wanna sleep… okay? I think I’ll feel better if I lay down,” he said.

Vera was unconvinced, but sighed.

She got out of the car and walked around to the driver’s side. Liam got out on wobbly legs, swallowing hard. He took a second to make sure he wasn’t about to immediately lose his breakfast. He walked over to the passenger side and climbed in.

He laid the seat back and laid down, covering his eyes with his arm. The other hand rested on his stomach. He felt so nauseous.

His stomach flipped under his palm, and he felt sweat bead on his back and forehead.

“Liam, there’s four and a half more hours, baby, are you sure you don’t want to-”

“Please, can we just drive? I’m sorry… I don’t mean to snap, I just think I won’t feel better until we’re there,” he said.

Vera nodded, resigning. She’d learned to pick her battles. She put the car in drive and started down the interstate.

It wasn’t long before Liam’s position made things worse. He wasn’t prone to motion sickness, at least he never had been before… but he was certain the motion was making things worse.

He sat up, feeling too nauseous to lay down.

“I’m sorry you don’t feel good, baby… do you think it’s something you ate?” She asked, laying a hand on his back. He curled over, his head resting on the dash.

“I dunno… I don’t know,” he said, his voice sounding choked.

He couldn’t talk. He wished she would stop talking to him.

He hated feeling this way. He didn’t want to be mean. He just felt so miserable.

Vera got the memo.

She didn’t say another word, but after hearing a quiet, wet belch come up from Liam’s belly, she reached into the back and grabbed a plastic to-go bag.

She emptied the napkins and plastic silverware on the floorboard and handed it to Liam.

He looked at her miserably, but ultimately relented and took the bag in his hands.

He clutched it under his lip, which was now shiny with spit. She watched him carefully as he leaned over, waiting.

She continued to drive. The mid-day traffic picking up.

“Oh, Vera…” he said, groaning,
“This is terrible… feels….” he burped and then held a pause. She was sure that was it and waited for the splatter, but then he continued.
“I… this is awful…” he said, as if he couldn’t decide the right words to describe it.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. Are you sure you don’t want me to pull over?”

He shook his head softly.

“Just keep going. I want us to get there in time for dinner,” he said.

Vera smiled sadly. She had been on and on about needing to be there in time for dinner. Her sister was making dinner for them and Vera had been nagging Liam about leaving on time, she wanted to make dinner.

Only now she felt bad. She couldn’t care less about dinner. She only cared about Liam feeling better. She hated to see him this way.

“Ohhh…” he moaned, and drool ran off his lip into the bag. A long strand hung from his lip and he spat.

“Oh, Liam, it’s okay sweetheart. You’re alright…” she cooed, and he responded with a wet belch.

“Feel… feels so sick,” he said, his voice soft.

“It’s okay, Liam…” she said again.

Suddenly, he belched and a tiny bit of liquid hit the bag.

“It came through my nose…” he groaned, his voice sounding pained.

“That’s alright, Liam. Let it come up, you’ll feel better,” she said, reaching over to push his hair from his face. She pulled her hand back, both hands on the wheel. She felt helpless.

He spat, and then a wet hiccup produced a larger wave. Finally.

The only problem was that once he started, he felt like he couldn’t stop. For a solid five minutes, Liam was retching up breakfast, dinner, and lunch from the day before. An entire liter of water he’d drank came up throughout.

Once the food and liquid came up, he was stuck with terrible, painful dry-heaves.

He hiccuped sharply and was sure that more vomit would follow, but it didn’t.

The bag was full now. He was embarrassed. And it smelled.

“God… I’m so…” he gagged, “I’m so sorry.”

She shook her head.

“Liam it’s okay baby… how do you feel?” She asked.

He looked pitiful. His face was pale and his cheeks painted red. His nose was red from wiping. His lips and chin wet.

“Sick. I feel so sick,” he said.

She frowned.

“Your stomach isn’t any better?”

He shrugged.

“I think I want to sleep now,” he said.

She nodded, eyeing a rest stop sign.

“Here, let me pull off here and clean you up. You can sleep the rest of the way there.”

Ten minutes later, they were ready to leave the rest stop. She had wiped his face with a rag from her suitcase.

He was weak. She was afraid he was really ill. He wasn’t running a fever, thankfully. Still, he looked terrible.

“Thank you, baby,” he whispered. His voice was shot.

She smiled.

“Of course, Liam. I’m sorry you don’t feel good,” she cooed, running a hand through his hair.

“You make me feel better,” he said, his eyes already closed.

She leaned over and kissed his forehead.

She slammed his door and climbed back in the driver’s seat. By the time they pulled out of the parking lot, he was asleep.

She only hoped he’d stay that way for the rest of the ride.

Deities of the Indian pantheon

AGNI - God of fire, rain, storms, protector of the home, new beginnings, and justice.

BRAHMA - God of creation and wisdom; often portrayed as having four heads, each facing different directions.

Associated with the swan.

CHANDRA/SOMA - Moon god of psychic visions and dreams.

DURGA - Goddess of nurturing, protection, and defense.

Associated with the lion and bowl.

GANESHA - Elephant-headed god of beginnings, writing, worldly success, learning, prosperity, journeys, and overcoming obstacles.

Associated with the elephant and flowers.

INDRA - King of the Gods. God of fertility, reincarnation, rain, the rainbow, the law, opposition to evil, creativity, and the sun.

Associated with the elephant, horse, dog, and lightning.

KALI/KALI MA - Goddess of Death. Goddess of regeneration, sexual love, and revenge; protectress of women. 

Associated with the wheel, knot, braid, and snake.

KRISHNA - God of erotic delights and music, and savior from sin.

Associated with the star.

LAKSHMI - Goddess of love, beauty, creative energy, agriculture, good fortune, prosperity, and success.

SARASVATI - Goddess of the creative arts, science, and teaching.

Associated with the lotus and crescent.

SHIVA - Demon-Slayer. He is shown with a third eye in the center of his forehead and four arms. God of fertility, physical love, medicine, storms, long life, healing, righteousness, and judgment.

Associated with cattle, the bull, elephant, serpent, lightning, and the hourglass.

TARA - Goddess of spiritual enlightenment, knowledge, and compassion. In Tibet, Tara has twenty-one forms and colors; the most familiar forms being the Green Tara for growth and protection, and the White Tara for long life,
health, and prosperity.

VISHNU - God of peace, power, compassion, abundance, and success.

Associated with the lotus, serpent, and shells.

Conway on the Indian pantheon - a selection from The Little Big Book of Magic.  

C’mon guys we need better representation in the media

I know that this post might wind a few people up after all, why should a white woman call for more representation.  But while we still aren’t completely there on P.O.Cs showing up, or members of the LGBTQ (I’m probably missing a few letters there), or even religions, there aren’t enough disabled characters showing up anywhere.  I’m not asking for anything big, like a diabetic character screaming ‘OH NO I’VE GOT TO INJECT MORE INSULIN NOW’ or a flashing neon wheelchair, other examples are available.  For someone that grew up with four or five different conditions (sometimes it’s hard to remember the exact number of conditions), there weren’t really people like me on TV, at least not that I can remember.

For me I was very excited when I saw that scene in Mean Girls where Regina George has a Halo operation, because I’ve had 3 of those now (I’m twenty-four) and you couldn’t take the front bars out, Mum and my family put Disney stickers on the part that goes across your forehead because I was four the first time I had the Halo operation down and if you’re making a child wear something big and bulky like that for six months at a time, then you had damn well make it look a bit better.  I had my second and third halo operation done when I was eleven and fifteen respectively.

Originally posted by onthatmdp

Thankfully I wasn’t hit by a bus, (I was hit by a car at a different point in my life) two of my medical conditions (Morquio A and Scoliosis) made my upper spine and neck a bit er fragile.

Another of my medical conditions is called Tinnitus, which means I have a constant ringing in my ears 24/7.  It’s a bit like the ringing you get after you’ve been at a concert or club in a noisy environment.  To me it sounds a bit like one of those old school kettles constantly whistling.  So I perked up when The Hunger Games books and later movies mentioned the symptoms but it was on screen for probably less than 30 seconds.

When Glee first came out and there was a character in a wheelchair, I was tremendously excited.  Finally people would realise that there were people out there in wheelchairs.  

Originally posted by thankformakingmeafighter

Alas, the actor himself is not disabled, so I didn’t really know how to feel.  He couldn’t understand even the struggle of getting train tickets or in shops, even making everything accessible.  It was something at least.

One actor that I have always loved is the great Peter Dinklage, because he always seems like he really knows what he is talking about when it comes to his craft.

Originally posted by rkortez

In Game of Thrones (one of my favourite GIFs featuring Dinklage as Tyrion Lannister slapping Joeffrey Lannister Baratheon) the character gets such a hard time for being small, which I feel I can emphasise with because I too am tiny, 3 foot something, he gets called imp and such.  I’ve been called Midget before, so while I drove over the guys foot (in my electric wheelchair).

I could probably point out yet more examples of disability but for me the character Cass who was played by the lovely Sophie Stone.  Stone as a person is severely hard of hearing.  So she actually knows what it’s like to miss things when it comes to hearing queues. 

Originally posted by scriptscribbles

When my hearing aids come out at night I can’t really hear anything, I sometimes describe it as having my ears wrapped in cotton and the plasticine they use when they’re making new moulds for hearing aids.  That combined with the tinnitus means I always have some music playing if I can.  It can be so disorienting not being able to hear anything.

And finally my favourite show on the TV when it comes to disability.

The Last Leg which was started up by Channel 4 in the UK in 2012 for the London paralympics.  The show is presented by two guys with disability (Adam Hills and Alex Brooker) joined by as Adam is so pleased to remind us by the pride of Dartmoor, John Widdicombe.

Originally posted by nintendontdodrugs

It looks into everything going on it the world, the bigger issues and discusses them.  I have never laughed so hard at the show because it’s not tone-deaf when it comes to discussing disability.  Also Adam Hills (above) is funny and likes to give rants calling people dicks, people like Katie Hopkins, Donald Trump and of course there’s more.

Reblog if you would like Hollywood to remember that yes there are disabled people out there and you can find disabled actors.

Torn 19

You can read past parts here. Will tag later. Thanks for reading!!

With as much dignity you could muster you snapped your nursing bra in place and pulled down your shirt.

“I’m afraid she just fell asleep.” You told Eric and his mom with a strain smile.

“I better get going. We will talk later.” Four whispered to you. He leaned over and kissed Abigail’s sleepy face and you heard Angelina intake a sharp breath. Four got up slowly as not to disturb his God-daughter. Without a word or acknowledgement to one another Four passed Eric and his mom and left the room.

If Eric’s eyes could shoot daggers at you, it would and you would be dead. You could tell he was furious. The way Angelina had looked at Four you figured Eric did not tell his mom about your relationship with him.

“Son, why was she kissing Tobias Eaton?” Angelina asked Eric disgusted as if you were not in the room. You frowned. Tobias Eaton?

“I will explain later.” Eric snapped. You caught Angelina’s disapproving look at her son’s attitude toward her but Eric failed to notice as he was still glaring at you. You ignored him and got up to put your sleeping angel in her basinet.

“Can I hold her for a while?” Angelina asked walking up to you. You nodded and handed her granddaughter in her arms. “I will be out in the living room.” She told you making a point to look at you and then her son before leaving the room.

“Who is Tobias Eaton?” You asked sitting back on the bed pulling your legs up to sit criss cross. Eric walked up to the bed staring down on you.

“You’re fucking the man and you don’t even know his real name?” You could see the slight amusement on Eric’s face at your ignorance.


As quick as a switch Eric’s face turned hard and all traces of amusement were gone.

“That is a conversation you need to have with him. I’m not wasting my time talking about him. He is irrelevant to me Y/N.” You could see his eyes change into a stormy dark blue. You braced yourself for what was going to happen next. Eric leaned over where he was just inches from your face. He grabbed your chin and pulled you even closer to him.

“Don’t you ever embarrass me in front of my mother again.” You could feel the heat from his breath on your lips. He squeezed your chin. “Do you hear me?”

You pulled your head back breaking his grasp on your chin and rolled your eyes at him which infuriated him more and if his mother was not a few feet away in the living room you knew you would be punish for your defiance.

“Move Eric.” He was in your way. He did not budge. You sighed and scooted over on the bed where he was not standing and got up. Eric grabbed your arm and pulled you against him.

“Don’t ignore me Y/N.” he barked in your ear.

“Fine Eric!” You were not in the mood to go toe to toe with him. You snatched your arm away from him and started for the living room.

“Where the hell do you think you are going? I’m not finish.”

“What Eric? You made your point. Don’t embarrass you in front of your mom. I got it!”

“Sit down.”

“I rather stand.” You told him. “Look you don’t own me Eric. Just because I gave birth to your child does not make me your property.”

Eric’s eyes roamed over you pondering how he would handle what you just told him. He decided he would handle your defiance later.

“Mom wants the baby to spend some time with her at Erudite.” Eric informed you as he walked up to you.

“You’re kidding, right?”

“No. Why would I kid about something like that?”

“Abigail is not even a week old. She is not leaving my sight. You should know better to ask me something like that.”

“The baby will be fine. It’s not her first time at the rodeo. She raised me.”


“What the hell does that supposed to mean?”

“Eric use your Erudite brain for a change.”

“Y/N, I would advise not to piss me off right now. You can’t keep her grandchild from her.”

“I’m not trying to keep her from her grandmother Eric. Just wait until she is a little older. She is more than welcome to come to Dauntless whenever she wants to see her.”

“Fine. In a couple of months then.”

You just looked at Eric not giving him an answer. Your daughter was not going anywhere without you until she could communicate effectively.

“Can I go now?” You asked sarcastically.

“Keep on being a smart-ass Y/N!”

You wanted to ask him or what but you thought it best not to provoke him further.  You shook your head and walked out the room. You found Angelina sitting on the couch humming to Abigail who was still asleep.

“Angelina would you like something to drink?”

“I’m fine sweetheart. Eric, would you like something to drink.”

“No.” he snapped. “I have to get back to the office. Mom I will see you later.” Eric glared at you and without a goodbye he walked out the door. You sighed with relief and sat next to Angelina on the couch.

“Are you sleeping with Tobias?” she asked rather bluntly.

“With all due respect I don’t see how that is any of your business.”

“So that is a yes. How can you give birth to one man’s child while sleeping with another? You were Abnegation. Slut isn’t one of their characteristics.”

“Oh hell no.” You muttered as you shot up from the couch.

“I think it is time for you to go.”

An eerie smile displayed on Angelina’s lips.

“Oh toughen up sweetheart. If you and my son are to be together you need to have thicker skin.”

“What makes you think I want to be with your son.”

“Honey you are a woman. Of course, you would want to be with him.”

You held back the laughter that was creeping up in your throat.

“I need to rest. I have to sleep whenever she is sleeping.” You told her as nicely as you could.

“Sure.” Angelina lifted Abigail so you can take her. You took your daughter in your arms. “I will stop by later. If you need anything I will be at Eric’s.”

You frowned a little. How could she insult you in one breath and then offer help in the next?

“I will see you later princess.” Angelina got up from the couch and kissed Abigail’s cheek. “You really did good Y/N.”

“Thank you.” This woman really confused you. One minute she was sandpaper and the next she was velvet.


You were finally able to crawl into bed but you could not find sleep. You needed to talk to Four. How could he not have told you his real name? You chastised yourself for not thinking about questioning his name. Who would name their child Four? You rolled over, grabbed your phone off your nightstand and dialed Four’s office.  His assistant Mary answered the phone in her chipper voice.

“Hi Y/N! How is that beautiful baby girl?”

“She is precious Mary. Thanks for asking. Is Four available?”

Mary saw no lines lit so Four was not on the phone.

“Yes one second and I will patch you through. Make sure you bring that bundle of joy for us to see soon ok?”

“You got it.” You answered waiting patiently to be patched in.

“Hey beautiful.” You smiled as you heard the smile in Four’s voice.

“Hey back. I was wondering if you could stop by when you are off so we can chat.”

“About what we talked about earlier?”

“Among other things.”

“I can come over now.”

“No it can wait until you get off.”

“I’m on my way.” Four said quickly and hung up the phone.

 As soon as Four walked in he planted a quick kiss on your lips.

“Abigail’s asleep?”

“Yeah. She should be up shortly.” You informed him as you sat on the couch.

“What’s up?”

“Four why didn’t you tell me your name was Tobias Eaton?”

A look of pain surfaced on Four’s handsome face.

“Who told you? Eric?”

“His mom said your name.”

Four let out a heavy sigh.

“That name is something I rather forget. It is from my past and I put it past me.”

“Why? What happen you?”

Four looked at you a long moment before answering.

“I was abused by my father.” He finally admitted. You hand covered your mouth in horror.

“Four…I am so sorry.” You grabbed his hand and gave it a tight squeezed.

“It is something that I do not want to relive Y/N. That is why I never told you. I forged my own future and my destiny and I will never let anyone hurt me anymore.”

“Eaton? Are you related to Marcus Eaton?”

A micro expression of disgust quickly displayed and left Four’s handsome face.

“Yes he is my father and Y/N I would rather not talk about him.”

You pulled Four into a hug.

“Okay. Thank you for telling me Four.” You were in love with two men who had daddy issues.

Four caressed your lips with his fingers.

“I am sorry I never told you. I didn’t want you to know that part of me.”

You nodded your head understanding where he was coming from. Four leaned over and lightly kissed your lips.

“I have to get back.”

“Ok. Will I see you later?”

“Depends if your baby daddy is here.” He said with a smirk.

“I’ll give you a call later then.”

“Sounds good.”

One last kiss to your forehead Four headed out the door.

It had been two weeks and Eric had not stop by to see his daughter. He called everyday but the conversation was short and he sounded irritated. Not to get into an argument you often cut the conversation short and Eric did not object.

His mother who visited often and was on her best behavior told you he had a lot of work piled on him. You found that to be a bullshit excuse.

You smiled down at your baby girl.

You needed to get out the house before you went stir crazy. You bundle Abigail up, threw on some clothes, gently put her in her stroller and headed to see Four. Four always made a point to stop and see his God-daughter so you had no idea what was Eric’s excuse.

 Eric was busy reading a report summary when he heard the distinct sound of a baby down the hall. Was that his daughter? He started to get up when his phone rung. He snatched the phone up.

“What!” he huffed into the phone. He listens to one of the leaders dictate a report to him. He was making a mental note of what was being relayed to him when he saw you walk past his office pushing his daughter in a stroller. You did not even look into his office as you walked by. What the hell were you doing? As he half listen to the other end of the call he watched several of the receptionists walk past his office. He started to hear laughter and baby talk from the ladies. Realizing you had took his daughter to see Four and not him sent him into a fit a rage and the pen he held in his hand snapped in half.

“Do you have anything else to report?“ Eric asked doing very little to hide the irritation in his voice.

“Yes sir. One more thing.”

As the leader continued his report he saw you walk by his office again alone still not looking in his direction.

“We need to cut this short. I will get the rest of your brief later.” Without waiting for a response, he slammed the phone down, jumped up from his desk and headed to find his daughter. He found her in Four’s arms in the hall surrounding by the female staff. Now Eric prides himself on keeping a stone face and not let anyone know what he is thinking at any given moment but when Mary looked up to find Eric standing a few feet from them she gasped. It was obvious Dauntless Leader Coulter was pissed.

“Oh shit.” Four’s assistant muttered under her breath. Hearing the fear in her swear Four looked up to find the source of her fear.

“Leader Coulter come look at Four’s beautiful little girl.” Claire one of the leader’s new receptionist told the irate leader. Feeling the tension around the rest of the ladies and Four she realized her error. By the look on Leader Coulter’s face toward her she knew she was just permanently placed on his shit list.

“You’re fired.” He told her as if he was ordering something to eat.

“You can’t fire her Eric. She is Chad’s new receptionist.” Four informed Eric. Eric looked over at Four successfully hiding his anger. He put on a bored face.

“I am Chad’s superior so yes I can fire her.”

“I am so sorry Mr. Coulter. I didn’t know. Please don’t fire me.” Claire pleaded with every fiber of her soul and Eric was unimpressed.

“Give me my daughter.” Eric ordered Four. Reluctantly Four gave his God-daughter to Eric. He did not want to make things worse for you then they already were. When you turned down the hall from seeing Max to go over when you can return to work you froze when you saw Eric, Four and a few receptionists. The ladies scurried away leaving Four and Eric. When Eric saw you, his face turned a shade of red. You knew Eric would be upset but his face told you he was on a whole new level of anger you had never seen before. Well he never bothered to see his daughter so fuck him you rationalize. Eric put his daughter in her stroller. He didn’t say a word to you. Four mouthed he was sorry just before you leaned over and kissed him softly on his lips. A sound came from Eric that you could not described but it sounded angry. Four walked back into his office and Eric took off with Abigail in the stroller. You had to quicken your step to keep up with father and child.

 Eric did not utter one word to you as you walked back to your apartment. A silent Eric was worse than a yelling Eric. His silence meant that his brain was working one hundred miles a minute and nothing good would come from it.

Eric held the door open as you pushed Abigail’s stroller in the house.

You knew it was coming and you had to brace yourself. You did not want your daughter to hear her father rip you a new asshole. You found Jen and Charles on the couch cuddling.

“Jen can you and Charles take Abigail out for a few minutes?”

“Of course. Is everything-” Jen stopped mid-sentence when she saw Eric’s facial expression.

As soon as the door shut Eric was in your face.

“Are you fuckin kidding me!! How fuckin dare you!!”

“Eric….please calm down.” You tried to keep your voice low and calm but it was not working.

“You fuckin took my child to see Four and walk right past me like I don’t fuckin exist?”

“You do realize you have a child. We have not seen you in two weeks Eric! How is that Four makes time for her and you don’t?”

Eric backed away from you and you saw him start to tremble.

“You have no idea how pissed I am at you.” Eric lowered his voice and it was sinister. That voice was worse than any yelling he could do. You walked up to him to see if you could calm him down and he stepped back from you.

“Y/N…’s best you keep your distance.” There was that voice again.

“God! You talking about me always being dramatic. You are acting like a little bitch right now.” As soon as the words left your mouth you regretted them.

The dishes you had drying in the dish rack went flying against the wall as Eric’s rage consumed him. You watched helplessly as glass went everywhere. That was going to be hell to clean up. You heard the sound of glass crunching under Eric’s boots as he swiftly walked up to you. He grabbed you by your ponytail and jerked your head back.

“Who you calling a bitch?!” His blue eyes bore into yours.

“I’m……I’m…sorry…Eric I’m sorry.” You felt as if you were going to cry.

“Don’t you ever fuckin take her to see him again! She is my kid!” Droplets of spit from his mouth landed on your face. You tried to pull your hair out of his tight grip to only have him twist it around his large hand and pull you closer to him. Your neck started to throb from the uncomfortable arched position he had you in.

“Eric! Let go!” You shouted at him trying to pull away. Eric looked down at you and quickly let you go.

“Go change. You’re leaking.” He observed in a monotone voice.

You looked down at your shirt and you were indeed leaking from both breast. You were mortified.

 Eric walked into your bedroom just as you pulled off your bra. You could tell he had calm down at least ten levels.

“Eric do you mind?” You quickly grabbed new breast pads to put on under your bra when Eric walked up to you and grabbed your hand  to stop you.

“What are you doing?” You asked softly as he closed the space between you two.

“I want to see you.”

“Eric you have seen me before.”

“Not like this.” Both his hands grabbed a breast and rubbed gently. A moan escaped your mouth. “Not this thick.”

“Eric don’t. I’m with Four. You know this.”

A wicked smile graced his lips as he pinched one of your nipples causing you to groan in pleasure.

“What the hell are you doing? You acted like you were about to beat my ass a few minutes ago and now you have your hands on my breast.”

“Y/N I would never hurt you on purpose. You just brought something out of me that scared the hell out of me and I suggest you don’t do anything again to see that side of me ever again.”

“Eric you need to get use to the fact that Four is her God-father and we are together.”

“You really think you are Four’s don’t you?” Eric asked mockingly.

Eric let go of your breast and took a step back. Your body literally moaned in disappointment.

“You just keep on thinking you are Four’s. I won’t touch you until you tell me too. Better yet Y/N I won’t touch you until you beg me.” Eric closed the gap between you two again and your nipples grazed against his vest. You bit your lip to keep from moaning out loud. “Then we will see who you truly belong too.”

“I would never beg for you Eric. If anything, you will be begging for me.” You stepped up. You weren’t taking his shit anymore. How dare he disrespect what you and Four shared.

Eric raised his pierced eyebrow.

“Oh is that a challenge Y/N?”

You nodded yes.

“Then challenge accepted.”

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