#I’m extremely tired and now I mostly have to think about finding a new place to move into

[yoongjoong]

.. hmm

[underworld-of-imagines]

Blizzard - Spencer Reid

I don't know how I feel about this one tbh, but I wanted to give a prompt a shot. Also, I should note that I've never actually experienced a blizzard (Aussie gal), so I don't know if somethings I wrote are factually correct (I did do some research though).

GenderNeutral!Reader

Summary: A blizzard is forecasted, and you don't know what there is to do during a blizzard.

Warnings: Spencer maybe acting a bit out of character, extremely cute though

“Weather forecast is predicting a widespread blizzard for many parts along the Virginia coast. Locals in many areas are warned to stay indoors and prepare for blackouts.” You sighed as you listened to the weather report, already knowing that you’d probably be spending the rest of the day indoors. This was already the third blizzard along the East coast, and it wasn’t even Christmas yet. 

Wandering over to the window, you looked out at the already snowy city. A sight that usually gave you a comforting feeling, now gave you one filled with worry. 

Winter was your favourite season, mostly for the abundance of opportunities to layer on warmer clothes and snuggle with your partner by the fire - hot cocoa included of course. It also had one of your favourite holidays, Christmas. Having grown up in Canada, Christmas was truly a time of joy. And you spent it participating in festive activities like decorating the house whilst listening to carols, to long movie nights on the couch with your family. Of course other winter activities were very popular with you and your friends as well, ice hockey and ice skating were your chosen past times whenever the weather permitted. But this time, winter and the bad weather warnings that often accompanied it, worried you. 

“What are you doing up so early Y/N?” A tired voice emanated from behind you, familiar arms sneaking around your waist. 

“I woke up not long ago Spencer, wanted to get a head start on my day.” You giggled softly as his breath tickled your neck, before relaxing into the warm embrace.

“And what does this day entail? Pray tell,” he questioned, the thickness of sleep still obvious in his voice. 

“I was planning on going to the candle store, and maybe the bookstore around the corner. But we just got a weather warning for a blizzard, so I think we’re going to be trapped inside all day.” A sad tone seeped into your voice as you tried to not let the disappointment hit you. You had really been looking forward to buying a new candle since your old one had run out.

“Oh no, whatever shall we do inside all day?” He questioned with a joking tone, a laugh falling from his lips. A whine fell from your lips as he teasingly kissed your neck, his intentions becoming slightly more obvious. 

“I’m being serious Spencer, I had all of these plans and now I don’t know what to do!” You pushed him away, crossing your arms out of annoyance. His body moved closer to yours, before his arms wrapped back around your waist.

“I’m sorry gorgeous,” he apologised, now whispering against your ear. “Why don’t we do something together? I know we’ve been reading together a lot lately, we could do something different this time.” You shrugged, with most places probably choosing to remain closed today, you had no idea what activity you would be able to find on such short notice. 

“Yeah? Like what?” You hadn’t meant for the tone of your voice to come out so harsh, getting ready to apologise for the harshness. But Spencer mustn't have noticed it as you could almost hear the cogs turning in his head. 

“What about baking?” A while back you had mentioned a love for baking to him, though you rarely had the chance to do it anymore. “You went out and bought a heap of ingredients a few months ago, I’m sure with those we can find a recipe to go along with them.” He suggested, already trying to think of recipes that you could make (don’t judge him, he really tried to entertain your baking phase). 

“Hm I forgot about that,” you pondered on the thought of baking. “It’s kinda messy though, even more so with two people involved in the process. Are you okay with that?” He nodded, grabbing your hands as you let them go. 

“As long as we’re doing it together,” you could almost hear the smile through his voice. “Plus, we’ll have plenty of time to clean it up, it sounds like.” That was true, it hadn’t even started blizzarding yet so you had a while to go. 

“Alright,” you relented, trying to hide the small bit of excitement that was blooming in your heart. “I assume Mr. Genius has already been thinking of a recipe to cook?” He let out a small laugh, nodding gently at your assumptions.

“Sugar cookies, they’re fairly easy and we have all of those ingredients.” You nodded, he was correct in both of those assumptions. “And they’re a staple for Christmas as I recall reading.” That was also true, and they were very easy to make cute christmas shapes out of. 

“Okay, let’s do this.”

Not long later, you were both standing in the kitchen cutting shapes out of the dough you had made. Flour was dusted all over your kitchen, and consequently yourselves, as Spencer had gotten a bit playful halfway through baking and thrown small amounts of flour at you. This, of course, resulted in a small-scale food fight in your kitchen (thankfully just with the flour).

“Now we just put these into the oven and wait for them to come out,” you explained, already loading the tray of cookies into the oven. “Let’s listen to music and rest for a while,” you suggested, already making your way over to your record collection. It only took you a few seconds to pull out your favourite christmas vinyl - a Frank Sinatra one. You put it on before walking back to the couch, relaxing into Spencer’s open embrace. 

It was the first time in a while you had seen Spencer having so much fun, and being so loose. Ordinarily, he would hate the thought of making a mess in the kitchen, and getting it on himself. And baking wasn’t exactly a favourite pastime of his too. You knew he was doing it all for you, having heard many stories of your Christmases at home, baking with your cousins and music constantly playing. Though, the thought of him doing so much for you warmed your heart, especially since he was gone on cases so often. 

You don’t know when you dozed off, but it was now a sheet of white outside the window, the blizzard in full force. A blanket had been placed over you, and a pillow under your head. Confusion washed over your brain as you tried to figure out what time it was. It was now dark in the apartment, and it smelled vaguely of the cookies you had made earlier. 

“I took the cookies out of the oven,” Spencer stated, noticing that you had woken up. “They’re on the counter,” he continued to explain, placing the book down as he stood up. 

“Oh, have you had any?” You questioned, walking over to the tray of cookies.

“No, I wanted to wait for you to wake up so we could ice them. But then a blackout happened so I just decided to read instead. I thought you could use the extra sleep,” he added. “It’s been about an hour since we lost power, I tried to find that battery-powered radio you own to listen to the emergency station but I don’t know where you put it.” He explained, now standing in the kitchen with you. 

“I left it in the buffet, I was checking if it still worked the other week. I must’ve left it on the table and just put it in there whilst I was cleaning up yesterday.” You walked over to the buffet, pulling out the small radio that you usually kept in the emergency box. Turning it on, you tuned to the emergency station, listening to the notices that kept playing. It was a standard blizzard notice, as well as notifying the suburbs that had so far lost power, and whether it’d be coming back on. 

Only then did you notice how cold it was inside of the apartment, without a fireplace, it got cold quickly when the heating went out. Walking over to the couch, you pulled on Spencer’s cardigan that he had left there from the day before. He, of course, was already wearing a sweater over his casual clothing. 

“Come here,” he beckoned when he noticed you were still cold. Moving over to him, he wrapped his arms back around you as you melted into his warm embrace. “Should we cuddle on the couch for the rest of the day?” You nodded, allowing him to move the two of you to the couch and laying a blanket over the two of you. 

“I don’t like blizzards, but I have to say today has been pretty fun,” you admitted, enjoying his embrace.

[barnabyseyelashes]

crewmate’s log

life (?) update

been writing this for a while mentally i guess. really good at just thinking things and not doing them. but an update bc i know i’ve been absent; for some of you longer than others, and i do regret and am sorry for that. i do love and care about you and think about you all even when i am gone, and i hope everyone has been holding on. 

i feel like i’m one of the maquis adrift on the voyager, and it has been a long, lonely hard travel. and unfortunately often i feel like a worse person for it. 

general c/tw for illness/covid/cancer, IPV, parental death. it is kinda long so feel free to skim/skip as needed. 

my spouse and i have very little IRL support, we have been paying over $4k usd a month on rent alone, my mom and sister are the only family i’ve spoken to since december. spouse working full time in thankfully a better job with a shorter commute but having to care full time for me & our elderly ill cat when at home. 

and this is probably the sickest i’ve ever been in my life which is saying a lot, considering ive been poisoned by toxic black mold before & have dealt with literally crippling stomach issues previous. ever since november everything has been happening. i slept basically all december, i was too tired to be awake more than 3-5 hours at a time most days. i haven’t even been able to wash my hair or proper shower since. much of december and january i was unable to walk (and i mean literally dragging myself with my arms/using my moms walker as crutches unable to walk) which was a fun new exciting development. thankfully we started to live our current place by then, as our apartment is on the second floor with awful cinder stairs. though we still haven’t moved for real and are stuck paying for it until near may. soooo really uh not jazzed to find out how we will move in the next two months when i still have days i can’t walk. especially since again we basically have no IRL support. i’m doing better at least a little, i’ve started nutrient IV therapy again which is helping even if it’s extremely difficult (and expensive). my stomach is still so fucked up that i can barely eat. it’s so clenched all the time if i have more than like 3 crackers i will have Lead Weight and 6-10 hours of pain :) thank you cannabis literally without her i would not be eating at all. even still i’m belching like a beer hall competitor for hours most days it fucking sucks. the only real progress tho has been that at least i’ve been having a lot fewer panic attacks and less general anxiety now that we are living in our new spot which i’m very grateful for. kinda surprising bc usually if my stomach hurts i have anxiety and often panic so that at least has been a relief. the rest of my brain has been fucking trash garbage tho, nonverbal or partially verbal mostly. multiple meltdowns a week when b4 it was a biannual occurrence. no brain power, lots of autistic rage & ideation. just awful to be & inflict on everyone else. i am sorry for that. it is largely why i shut down at times. i simply fucking have to. 

obviously i’ve been too sick to really do anything but spouse and i are deep in our pokémon hole and it’s keeping us good company. lol despite the graphics scvi are pretty good games. writing? character development? in MY pokémon main series game? more likely than you think.. 

still it’s so bittersweet to be saying sayonara to satoshi shounen, ah ah ahhh i’m gonna cry so hard (already have). but i think the new series will be good. it will just be different. 

also i was blessed bc in the first 30 min of playing i caught a shiny mareep, one of my top 6 fave lines and one of my fave shinies. i only caught 1 in pogo and so i was so jazzed. she’s carried us 💖 my beloved deanna (like dddk, not tng) 

one of the things that’s also been good is our new living situation, even if its annoying and complicated sometimes to share with other people, i’m glad we are living with my literal oldest friend and the only person from high school i still talk to lol. we have a cottage, bigger than our old one, and even tho it doesn’t have a bathroom, the insulation & windows are shit, it’s been good. & it is under 2k a month, we got a small room in the main house now too so spouse has an office & we have some extra storage. but the best is having space to make a large, productive garden, and my friends 3 ducks and 3 chickens. skip the next part if you don’t wanna see my essay about them LMAO.  

and omg gay people, i’ll never not be raising poultry now. bird flu in domestic flock was finally detected in our county this winter, which makes me sweat a bit but fingers crossed we will be ok. my friends ex (who lived here b4 us) did most of the bird care. since i’ve been here tho it’s basically all been me, and of my choice. tricky when i have been sick but truthfully they take about 20 min a day of daily care, and maybe an hour a week of general maitenence. in early autumn when we got here, it was so easy to be outside for hours with them.. no one had ever been able to pet them before. my friend wasn’t even trusted enough to see the duckies swim in their pool while she was in the yard! nowadays the two nonskittish ducks are happy to pop in there even if i’m in the splash zone 🤣 i’m awful i do love the ducks best because they are sweet, simple creatures who know what’s good in life (treats, bodies of water, naps, frequent loud gay sex) while the chickens are a bit mean 😭 i still haven’t resolved the pecking order issues (the lowest chicken, emma [cream legbar], always beats up on the nervous duck, lydia [ancona]) but hopefully in summer i’ll be able to help shift that. kitty (brown khaki campbell) & jane (silver welsh harlequin) are very well trained to “cmere” and eat readily (jane, too readily..) from my hand. the dominant chickens, boss lady/lizzie (black ameraucana supposably) & eleanor (grey lace silverruds blå) will do the same but they aren’t quite as good at the recall lol. i’ve been reading on raising them all, working on gentling them, and enriching their lives.. i love it. they have really helped me, especially kitty. she is very special. she is the smallest but she lays the hugest fucking eggs, and since mid autum it’s been DAILY. like lord girl you gotta stop and moult eventually your feathers are so tatty. spouse has breakfast every day now though. i’m allergic to eggs so 😂 oh well. they’re great fun to raise regardless. (i’ve even recently gotten skittish lydia to eat worms from my hand, so i’ve officially touched them all!!) 

anyway i could talk about my beloved birds for fuckin ever obviously lol but i also wanna write about my family a bit too, bc so much has happened. tw covid , IPV , cancer 

i may have had covid in summer/early fall but my mom and sis got it for real, both of them in december/january. i don’t remember which. my mom got hers likely from the hospital cuz her ONCOLOGIST told her to get her mri there instead of the specialty mri clinic :) which is nice. my mom has lymphoma as well as several autoimmune diseases and pretty severe mental illness. she has been sick in and off since. she is sick rn & i am missing this weeks IV because of that. so shout out to california removing mask requirements in healthcare settings as of april 🤮👍 

my sister got hers from her shitty ex bf. that man supported her while she dealt with numerous health issues and surgeries in.. 2020..1? 21 i think. idk. maybe both. he supported her thru the hell that the last year was. up until last month when he fucking attacked her over a disagreement about a LITTER BOX. literally grabbed her , held her, and dumped dirty cat litter box over her head then destroyed the box with a huge chefs knife. bc that’s a really normal response. my sister had to call the cops. she’s gonna get a restraining order against him and his fucked up parents. but now she’s out she’s realized he had been abusing her verbally & emotionally like their whole relationship. 💔 i’m just so glad she fucking survived and he didn’t do worse, good god. she has been staying in our apartment most of the winter bc covid and now until she can get her own place so even tho we are hemmoraghing money on that shithole, at least it’s useful.. bc lol my moms husband literally told my sister “well in your bfs defense, any guy would react like that to a woman behaving like that” LIKE UM? NO?!??!? so she isn’t comfortable being there. spouse and i never felt safe around that man and it is a large reason we moved from my cottage at my moms to my dads place to begin with. so at least we have officially broken off any relationship to that trash man which is great but my mom won’t leave him so i have to just make my peace that disease will take her if he doesn’t someday. fun stuff. 

tw parental death

also cool and fun things happening lately is that this saturday it will have been a year since my fathers physical form drew breath. to say this last 15 or so months have sucked shit is the biggest understatement ever. my aunt currently has like two days to settle his estate; yes she still has a large proportion of my sister & my inheritance. no i haven’t seen or spoken to her since my grandpas funeral in september but i’m the “child of her heart” like ok. & my da had a reverse mortgage on our home of 20 years, and they forced us to sell it within a few months instead of the 12 legally we were allowed. that move was absolute hell. and i had to spend 8k on movers just for some of them to 1% ass it; they literally broke multiple peices of my dads ceramic artworks bc i tried and tried to get people to help me pack them but no one but my mom did. she couldn’t manage them all. it’s hard to forgive myself. it’s so fucking enourmous to bear the weight of knowing i have to be the one who cares for and maintaines his body of work, at least the bulk of it. god that fucker i’m still mad he gave away my favourite bowl to a goddamn woman he met at the pool LMFAO classic mike manoeuvre. one of his brothers took the fish vase i wanted too.. and the vase that matches the one he was throwing when my moms water broke with me. if it was steve i forgive you because my uncle steve also is dying of bladder cancer rn (da had multiple myeloma, diagnosed 2016) and i feel shit for not speaking with him for months but. illness. larry you’re on thin ice, hugh if it was you i’ll kill you myself 🔪  same for you mary especially cuz u actually knew i wanted that shit. 

dads bday was literally in january but did any one of those bitches text me? no. did any of his friends text me? no. tbf i can barely respond to texts but like still.. i feel bad i haven’t seen or called my grandma but also. illness! been nonverbal most days! so like 🥲 everyone else has their grief too i get it but lol to have everyone say “we will be there for you” and for literally no one to be seen its very hurtful. at least one of his friends text me to check in on me and my sister yday. but it really truly feels like no one gives a shit. and with my moms lack of health i’m having to prepare to be an orphan within 5 years.  

my sister bought a star for him months ago in some registry. i didn’t have the heart to tell her that it was near meaningless, these registries aren’t anything, no one can own these things. but on clear nights i still look off the leading edge of the plow into whatever near nothingness that faint light is coming from, adrift in emptiness. 

———

anyways that’s pretty much all from me. (is it enough LOL. happy saturn return with saturn in sideral aquarius. in my 1H too 😩) as i get better i will be getting back slowly into discord and shit, i’ve literally just been too exhausted and unable to function. some of yiz have known abt some of this, but mostly my main acct tweeps & tumblr muts haven’t, so i just figured i would write this, and maybe it would help me in some way. hopefully i’ll be back on tumblr soon too, i literally just can’t use it with our internet (and lack of) here lmfao. i’ll slowly be getting this out to my e-circles as i have energy in the next days. 

sending love to you all in pawsitivity discord; yuri horse club, gabriel, kurt & folks from tumblr; and all the rest of yiz. (i don’t mean to forget or omit anyone, honest). i hate that illness & shit has kept me from you. the last year has taught me well to value the time we have and it is not guaranteed. i love you all, i miss you, and i am wishing you well. i am hoping to reconnect soon. beannachtaí 💚💙💜 

[rohansregret]

Oh sweet! Is it okay if I can request a fic where Hermes tells Weather how she feels like someone’s stalking her as her stuffs going missing and is feels little weirded out. Weather comforts her, saying that she’s probably tired or something, all the while being the guy that’s stalking her. If that’s okay with you

characters: ermes costello + weather report

warning(s): nsfw, stalking, manipulation, shipping (ermes x weather), voyeurism, breaking in, mentions of panty stealing/sniffing, masturbation, spying, mentions of cum, use of the word “cock”, dark content

note: thanks for the request! i’ve never seen this ship before and i don’t ship it myself, plus i mostly write reader insert things, but it was fun exploring new pairs! just for a heads up for everyone, i don’t think i’ll be writing too many ship stuff in the future, unless it’s a ship that i also ship. i added a couple stalky things that i guess could be considered extreme? i hope that isn’t a problem :( i hope you enjoy!

weather first realized ermes was catching on when he overheard her mentioning her missing panties to jolyne. you’d think he would feel anxious at the thought of being caught, but he only swelled with pride knowing one of the pairs was in his pocket.

“are you sure you didn’t misplace them?” he’d ask, his voice calm and smooth. he’d let her ramble on about how she has them in a specific place that he already knows about.

the knowledge that ermes knows something’s up makes his late night escapades even more fulfilling. now when he makes his way inside hermes’s apartment late at night, he finds himself taking more risks. for example, when he’s usual quiet and agile sneaking into her room, he’s now less worried about leaving things untouched. he doesn’t tidy up as much and leaves his mess behind when he reluctantly leaves the building.

ermes rarely lets people know if shes scared, but he can see through her dismissive behavior. he almost feels bad for her and reflects on what he’s doing. but every time he lets his eyes wonder over her body, he forgets.

“i swear to you! someone is stalking me or something. shit keeps going missing and my room is even more wrecked than usual.” she’ll tell him, her eyes desperately trying to hide her worry. “ermes, i’m sure you’re fine. you have been acting strange lately, maybe you need to get more sleep.”

he knows her sleep schedule like the back of his hand, so he’s not fully lying. “yeah, maybe you’re right. thank you weather.”

he’s more careful that night. he makes sure to close the drawer fully after he finds a pair he’s looking for. he stands over ermes’s sleeping body and observes her. the way her chest moves, the way the blanket wraps around her hips, the soft noises slipping from her slightly parted lips.

he didn’t wait until he got home that night. slipping into her bathroom and locking the door behind him, he pictured her body in his mind. his zipper quickly undone and his hand wrapping the green lace panties around his cock. he let himself get lost, taking his time getting himself off all while keeping quiet.

he left the panties, now wet with his cum, in ermes’s laundry basket. after trailing his finger tips down her cheek, he makes his swift leave out the front door, locking it behind him with his copy of her key.

no matter how many times he tells himself to be careful, he’ll forget his morals as soon as he steps into her home. his body overcome with pleasure and bliss almost immediately.

he’ll do this again and again until he gets caught or gets bored and moves onto someone else. “maybe anasui?” he’ll think to himself, eyes locked on the other man.

[itzztay]

What parties would be like in each Twisted Wonderland Dorms | Headcannons

-warning(s): mentions of drinking, language

-surprise! you’re getting a pt.2 of this soon because I’m too tired to finish the other dorms ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Ramshackle

Probably the worst place to have a party

Yall that place is already like one puff of air from crumbling down, you can just sense the parties are either gonna be either hella lit or hella boring

If I’m Yuu, I’m definitely having someone else host here cause then liability isn’t all on me (plus we’re broke so we need other dorms to pay)

We all know Crowley ain't got insurance for Ramshackle so anything broken is just gonna have to stay broken

“We’re gonna blow the roof off this place” *the roof literally crumbles from all the loud ass bass in the speakers*

Either you find a new place while you beg Crowley to fix the dorm or yk just sleep in the rubble

On second thought, maybe you just shouldn’t party at Ramshackle

Heartslabyul

Honestly, when Riddle is there and they’re having a party yk its gonna be pretty chill

Nothing too crazy just hanging out and eating good food nothing but wholesome times

But when Riddle is out…?

YOU ALREADY KNOW ACE AND CATER ARE THROWING A RAGER

Loud ass music ✔️

Drinks ✔️

The dorm being trashed at the end of the night ✔️

At first i feel like Trey would definitely try to keep things calm but when he realizes that no one is listening to him, hes probably like “ahh fuck it” and having Cater help him do a keg stand or some shit

By time riddle comes back he just sees everyone crashed in the common room

The garden is a mess

And Ace is hanging from the chandelier

Deuce is sleep fighting with himself

Trey is the first one to see Riddle when he gets back but he can't really see him cause he’s lost his glasses

He just feels this extreme angry pressure filling the room and immediately realizes he fucked up

Let’s just say Heartslabyul dictatorship era pt.2 will be returning for the time being

Savanaclaw

*chuckles devilishly*

I CANNOT EXPRESS HOW LIT THE PARTIES WOULD BE LIKE-

The weather at their dorm is perfect and they also have a pool (like fr check the dorm art)

+ they are literally a dorm full of all the athletes at the school, OFC THEY GONNA BE AMAZING AT HOSTING PARTIES

I feel like their parties would be like rewards for winning magift game or beating Diasomnia in anything

Now they would have good music but because Leona is a prince, he would defo get like celebrities to come and perform live for the dorm

BEYONCE IS THAT YOU

Jack defo is too paranoid the whole night so you can always count on him to take care of everyone

Ruggie on the other hand I feel like would be doing flips off Leona’s balcony and into the pool, stuffing his face full and passing out in a food coma all before the party ended

Leona honestly seems like he’d have a high tolerance so he’d definitely just be watching everyone on a lounge chair being too lazy to do anything.

The other students definitely carry the parties more than the main 3 do but overall the parties are just *chef kiss* good.

Octavinelle

See here’s the thing…

They have the Monstro Lounge so I know that they know how to entertain ppl

But parties…?

I just don’t think they’d be like the others

I feel like they’d be more classy

Like smooth sipping instead of going wild yk

They also got to keep up a good rep for the lounge so they can't do anything too crazy

I definitely think that Jade and Azul would only drink a bit so they could keep an eye out on the rest of the patrons

But Floyd…

Oh god Floyd…

do NOT let him have any drinks IM BEGGING

Like if he even drinks 1/8th of a glass, its fucking over

He’ll be bouncing off the walls, squeezing people nearly to death

His moods would shift even more than they already do

Whining about something one minute and picking fights and chasing ppl the next

The effects don’t usually last that long cause he ends up crashing after a short while

You can expect the dorm and Lounge to be mostly intact the only damages being from Floyd (which knowing Azul will definitely come out of Floyd’s paycheck)

Don’t worry, Floyd should be returning back to normal by the morning…hopefully

[fallinfl0wers]

hellooo! this is the first time i request something from a blog :D could i request headcanons of diluc, scara, kazuha and xiao when their s/o tells them they're pregnant and possibly how they'd get used to having a kid? tyy! dont forget to take breaks and relax!

Literally baby-sized trouble.

summary: you're pregnant! how does he react to the news and how do the get used to your child? includes: diluc (26 bullet points), scaramouche (24 bullet points), kazuha (17 bullet points) and xiao (35 bullet points) warnings: fem!reader, pregnancy, children, non-explicit/non described giving birth, mostly fluff with a little bit of hurt/comfort and angst. format: headcanons thank you for your request!! this was so fun to write! >< imagining the characters being soft with children is just so cute :") i specially like these four a lot >< when i wrote this i was in a xiao mood if it wasn't obvious that his turned out longer than everyone else's lol, and it's also the first time i write for kazuha so it was shorter than the others, but i think his is the sweetest ><! i hope you enjoy it! ps. the names and meanings- i got them from google, feel free to correct me if there's anything wrong with them ><

Diluc

He's going to stop functioning the moment he hears the news from you.

Literally, he's still as a rock and completely taken by surprise.

He... can't say he'd never wanted children. He's pretty traditional and, since he has this beautiful relationship with you, he assumed it might happen sometime in the future.

But oops guess it will have to happen in the close future, since you're already pregnant.

After staring at you with widened eyes for a while, he speaks up: "...is... is it true?" You hold his hands on yours with a smile on your face, nodding. "Yes, Diluc. We're going to be parents." Hearing your words, he starts to tear up as he hugs you, his touch almost hesitant, as if you were so fragile he could break you if he wasn't careful. "...thank you." He'd whisper between silent tears, hiding his face from your sight.

Very supportive and very protective!

You will have the most comfortable of pregnancies. He will make sure you don't need to move a single muscle to get anything you want.

If the two of you aren't married or engaged yet, he's going to propose to you very soon, keep that in mind ><

He starts reading every book he can find on pregnancies and babies so that he knows what to do to help you when you give birth and how to take care of his child once they're born ><

You have to convince him that yes, you can go and eat in the dining room and you don't need to eat everything in your room or stay in bed all day and yes, you can still do most things and no, he doesn't have to worry so much.

But yeah, in later stages of your pregnancy he gets more overprotective because he doesn't want anything to hurt you or your baby :(

He couldn't be calm enough while you gave birth and had to wait outside of the room, which only made him more nervous </3

But when he finally held your little baby on his arms for the first time, he broke down crying.

You two had a boy! He looked a lot like him, too... with the red hair and eyes... so cute...

He's not sure of what to name him, he'd thought of some names before, but they all disappeared when he saw the little bundle of joy in his arms;;

So you two will have to think about a name again!

In the end, you settle for Felix; name meaning "happy" or "lucky"!

Diluc is a very busy man, but he still does his best to be there for you and his son as much as possible!

He's also not very sure as to how he should interact with him...

But he does know he LOVES playing with him as soon as he starts to understand how to play with his toys.

But... there are not so cute parts about having a kid, after all.

At times, he worries whether or not he'll be able to be there enough for him.

He wonders if he can be a good father, given how awkward he is with his emotions.

What if when Felix grows up he starts hating him for being absent? He wouldn't be able to stand it.

You always reassure him as you both put the baby to sleep on his crib.

All Diluc wants is for his son to have a happy childhood and a loving family, but worries he won't be good enough of a father.

However, when Felix's first word is "'iluc!" as he stretches out his tiny arms towards him, he thinks that maybe, just maybe, he can do this right.

Scaramouche

He thought you were joking, so he laughed.

When you didn't laugh along with him and was met with your blank face, he understood you were serious.

He never even thought he'd be with anyone in a relationship before you came along, let alone have a child with anyone... So he's obviously very shocked and confused as to how to proceed.

After an awkward moment of staring at each other, he cleared his throat and crossed his arms, looking at you with an equally blank face. "So? What do you want me to do about it?" "H-huh?" "In the sense of- what do you want to do? Keep it or not." You huffed, and when he heard your determinated answer, he sighed and gave your head some soft pats. "Alright, alright, whatever you want, I guess."

Okay listen here- it's not like doesn't care but it isn't like he cares so much either...

This man would do anything for you, really, and that's what happens.

He does anything and everything for you, because he's worried about you and not necessarily about the baby you're carrying.

It's not like he hates children- because you can't hate anything you don't perceive as equal or superior to you and a baby ceirtainly isn't either for him-

It's more like he doesn't know what to do with them because he's never been around children enough to understand them.

He's overall very indifferent towards the child ngl.

Then he sees you cradling your baby -a girl- in your arms and his mind just... goes blank. Huh, so that's what a human looks like right after being born.

Your little daughter looks more like him than she looks like you, sorry. But he can clearly see on her face some factions that will look like yours as she grows up.

But...

"Now what?"

He'll help you look after her however he can, since he doesn't want you to be too tired because he never knows when he'll have to leave for weeks or even months without notice.

He's not entirely cold or indifferent towards her, even if sometimes he might resent her a bit for taking away some of your attention.

But like when you were choosing a name for her, he gave a few suggestions and in the end you choose one of the names he thought of!

Her name is Hikari, name meaning "light"!

Due to the nature of his job, he doesn't want to be seen around either of you at the moment in public. It would only put a target on your backs.

And it takes a long, long while for him to warm up to her.

It disheartens you a little, but when you see him looking down at Hikari's sleeping form on the crib, softly poking her cheek with a strangely child-like curiosity on his eyes, you feel at ease.

And he thinks that he can probably handle this parenting thing better than he ever expected. Maybe it's not that bad, after all.

Ceirtainly, he thinks, as he holds her in his arms one day after she spoke her first word to him, this parenting thing is not really that bad.

(Her first word was "papa!")

Be ready, because once he gets attached to your daughter he won't stop spoiling her!

Kazuha

"Are you sure, love?" "Yes, I'm sure. We're having a child!" A smile painted itself on his face as he leaned in to kiss your forehead. "I hope I can be a good father for them."

So the Kaedehara family is getting a new member, huh!

Not that there's much left to his name, especially now that he's a fugitive... but he's excited nonetheless!

Although he's not one to settle down for long, he will make an effort for both you and the child, since it's not good for someone who's pregnant to wander around.

He's very protective, but not in an overbearing way! He simply wants you to take it easy and relax, he can take care of everything else on his own!

That being said, he's not rich like Diluc or Scaramouche, so he's also going to work harder than ever to get everything you or the baby need in advance so that neither of you have to stress out!

He's the one who takes it better out of everyone here, he's not extremely worried or outright indifferent, he's simply worried enough, excited and happy!

He already knew you were the one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with, so the idea of having a child with you didn't scare him or intimidate him in the slightest!

He's still a bit worried, though.

He is a wanted fugitive in his homeland, after all...

He can only do so much and wish for the situation in Inazuma to change soon, so that he can take both you and his child to see the places he loved to spend his time at when he was a child.

But for now, he's happy enough simply holding his child on his arms, sitting next to you in your small shared home.

You have a girl too! She has Kazuha's hair color and your eye color, she's super adorable ><

He wants you to name her, and you both agree on naming her Izumi, meaning fountain or spring!

"Kaedehara Izumi... it has a nice ring to it." He'd say, smiling down at her.

While Kazuha enjoys travelling more than anything in this world, he's reticent to leave you and your daughter alone or even bring you along with him. So he stays around for as long as you need it.

He will talk a lot to her all the time, so don't be surprised when she picks up very complicated, flowery words from a young age!

He wants her to grow up to be free as the wind and be able to do whatever she wants without fear, so he wants to do his best to be a good father for her!

Xiao

You can practically see the panic on his face when you tell him the news.

It's the most scared you've ever seen him be, and you've been there to help him through his karmic debt.

So yeah, he takes it the worst out of everyone.

"I'm not mad." He manages to tell you before disappearing to somewhere else in a panicked haze, he needs to sort out his emotions quickly before he can properly talk to you about it. The last thing he saw before he disappeared was your eyes, glinting with sadness. And that only made him feel worse if that was even possible.

It takes him the whole day to come to terms with his feelings on your pregnancy and finally face you again.

He's really, really afraid of hurting you and your child. Not to mention he fears he might've passed some kind of curse from his karma to either of you through the pregnancy :(

Like he said, he isn't mad. He's just scared.

He... he literally never, never thought he would get to be a father.

Family was a foreign concept to him, as were a lot of other things you've slowly helped him understand throughout your time together, so knowing he can have one of his own now... makes him happy, and scared, at the same ime.

He's worse than Diluc when it comes to protecting you and worrying about you.

He won't let you do anything alone, even if he doesn't want to be near you because he doesn't want the karma to harm you or your child in such a vulnerable moment of your lives.

Okay so that aside-

How do people care for babies?

What is he exactly supposed to do?

And- do half-adepti babies need any sort of special treatment in comparison to human babies?

He has no idea on what to do if it doesn't involve a physical fight with a tangible foe, so he goes asking for advice to everyone he knows that could have knowledge on that field.

Verr Goldet and Ganyu are a great help for him. Xiao listens with attention to everything they have to say and asks everything he doesn't understand.

Ganyu tells him about her own experience growing up as half-human so that he can understand what raising a half-human, half-illuminated beast baby might entail.

He also goes to Zhongli for advice and he gets more of the same advice he's already heard, along with many, many reassurances that sound like everything you already tell him every day.

He's very worried, but as the months go by and your child's birth comes closer, he can't help but feel a little excited about it.

Everyone who knows him is happy to see him openly happy for a change on those small moments when he gets excited about his new family with you.

When your child is born, Xiao doesn't want to hold him. It took too much willpower to stay as close as he was right now, standing next to your bed as you held your baby in your arms.

He was so adorable, so small, so fragile, so pure- Xiao was afraid of touching him and breaking or tainting him--

He was already crying, he'd started crying the moment he saw you holding your son for the first time.

He feels so... strange. He's crying, but this isn't a painful, or sad feeling. He feels... happy, but scared, but...

The feeling starts to make some sense to him when he finally convinces himself that it's okay for him to hold the little boy in his arms, when he stares with awe at his face.

The baby looks a lot like the both of you. Arguably, more like him, since he has the same hair and the same bright eyes, but in his face all he can see is you.

And he cries more.

You both named him Liàng, name meaning brilliant!

Xiao does his best to try and get used to parenting, and it gets hard at times.

But he tries, and that's all that matters. He tries to be a good father, and is always there to protect both you and your son from anything trying to harm you.

Even though he was so scared at first, you know he loves the new family you've formed together.

Especially when you catch him trying to hold a conversation with your son, sitting down on the bed next to him as he toys with a soft teddy bear, the two of them surrounded by pillows.

The soft look and smile he wears while he does so tells you that everything is going to be alright.

The three of you are going to be alright, and Xiao wants to make sure of it.

His son will never have to live what he lived or see what he saw. He will make sure of that, no matter what.

[whatyadrawin]

Michael Myers x Fem! Reader (Headcanon) 18+ only -First Fanfic Ever!-

Masterlist

Approximately 1, 876 words

Pairing: Michael Myers x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Mental health struggles, strong language, heavy sexual themes

A/n: I am so happy to have had the opportunity to get some free time from exams to make a new chapter for you all complete with illustrations. I'm pretty excited about this one but I will warn you the next chapter (which is just waiting on illustration's) gets really intense and dark so don't get too attached if you have any kind of ptsd surrounding intimate violence. I also feel strangely inclined to remind you all that this is a headcanon and I really hope you all like where I take this.

Chapter 5

You wake up after what felt like 18hrs of sleep, you feel really good today and fully energized. You look towards the door and try to find that strange white-headed shape you saw last time but there was nothing must have just been a hallucination from being so tired. Today you felt more like yourself and decided to put on a cute lavender crop top and some tight pale jeans with pastel yellow sneakers and go get some groceries to stock up the fridge. The new house was in need of a few repairs and had a lot of very strange stains and dents in various places but other than that it was clean and had good bones. The sun was shining but the trees already had the colors of fall and the air had a crispness to it, October had finally started to make itself known and that excited you; Ever since you were a child you loved fall because it always led to Halloween which you remember fondly, the fun candy, the silly decorations, the faux feeling of danger… it was almost magical.

You got to the store and it was mostly empty but you saw Deanna in the pasta aisle and went over to say hi:

“Deanna! I’m happy to run into you today, how is the hospital?”

“Omg *Y/N* I didn’t think I would see you out and about so soon! The Hospital is doing just fine, things have been extremely quiet lately and it gives us all time to focus on our long-term patients more which has really made a difference in their recovery”

“That is great to hear, I didn’t think I would feel up to coming out so soon, but I had a really long sleep last night and it recharged me pretty well which is good because I didn’t realize I was so low on food.”

“Do you think you will be coming back to work anytime soon? We really miss you over there”

“I think I am going to need more time to at least collect my thoughts and make sure I am feeling good enough to be productive for 12hrs a day”

“That makes sense, take as much time as you need. I know you get an indefinite amount of time off given what you…. Well …what you went through”

“Yeah, I still don’t really believe it was even real” You start to feel a lump of anxiety bulge up into your throat and your eyes start to water. Deanna sees this and has a worried look.

“Oh sweetheart! I’m so sorry I shouldn’t have even brought it up that was so thoughtless of me!” Deanna gently laid a hand on your shoulder and rubbed; her hands always felt so healing and you could already feel your anxiety dissipating.

“Its ok really, I am just realizing I have a lot of work to do to make sure my mental health is on the level. Sorry I didn’t mean to upset you”

“Jesus *Y/N*, don’t you ever apologize for the mistakes of others especially when you get hurt from them. Listen, I have to head back home but if you ever need anything at all you just give me a shout and I will do what you need ok? Even if its just a warm hug and a cup of tea, ok?”

“Deanna you really are such a great friend, thank you”

“Take care now” She gave a worried smile and one last comforting pat on the shoulder and walked towards the registers.

You took a second to calm yourself and went on about your grocery trip gathering some essentials and some fun non-essentials. After you paid you started heading back home, enjoying the nice sunshine and the orange and reds coming off the trees; The air smelled so fresh and clean and you just felt good today despite that almost upsetting moment in the grocery store, the house was coming up and you felt so happy to have found such a good deal in this wholesome little town.

 You got inside and started unloading your groceries into the pantry and refrigerator when you heard some thuds coming from the basement. You stop what you were doing and listen for a minute ‘Thud, Thud……Thud’ what the fuck is that? You quickly go and grab the biggest kitchen knife you could find from the bottom of the cutlery drawer and slowly head towards the basement door. The noises stopped but you weren’t going to just let that slide, the sounds felt… off somehow, opening the basement door you start to make your way down the stairs and yell out “WHOS THERE? I HAVE A WEAPON SO DON’T GET ANY IDEAS OR YOU ARE FINISHED!” you felt a massive chill roll up your spine as you made it to the bottom step. You hadn’t really explored the basement yet and you weren’t really sure what you would find, as you looked around you started to lower the knife. There is nothing in the basement, not even a mouse made itself known so you relax a bit must have been from outside I guess, but I swear I heard it down here You round a corner and find a small little nook covered in dust and shrouded in shadow where you saw a small box. You kneel down and blow dust off the box and see an ‘M’ written in black felt, you set down the knife and open the box and find a bunch of poorly made masks varying in colors and designs what the, did a child make these? I better set this aside so I can toss them out when I clean up down here feeling satisfied that there was no danger you head back upstairs and continued to put away the groceries then you head to the couch to lay down and watch some T.V. There was not much on except for maybe some old reruns and the local news channel which mentioned Michael Myers, you turn up the volume to listen:

“After the horrific murders at the Smith’s Grove Asylum, the police have reported that the patient known as Michael Myers is still at large. We urge citizens of Haddonfield to please remain vigilant and report anything of suspicion to the authorities. There is no need to be alarmed, we are told by renowned Psychologist Dr. Loomis that Michael has not committed any acts of violence since his admittance to the asylum and therefore does not pose much of a threat to the public, the local police are working tirelessly to make sure our town is safe and they assure us Michael will be found”

The station then goes on about the upcoming autumn activities and events that will continue to be held in town in the next few weeks. Strange, I was told Michael was extremely dangerous when I took his blood… then again, he didn’t kill me… he protected me… maybe I was wrong? You shake your head and turn off the T.V to head upstairs. You reach your bedroom and notice the sun is almost fully set, your room is filled with a deep orange light and you feel a wave of comfort from it, golden hour always reminded you of the large family gatherings you would have in summer and fall, your grandfather would be barbequing and your cousins would be running around with toys and laughing… you miss those days deeply. You get undressed and turn on the shower to get ready for bed since you start to feel that same overwhelming tiredness wash over you, the water runs down your face and warms up your body like a soft blanket; your muscles are relaxing so you close your eyes and you lather yourself up to make sure to get the days grit off you. As you rinse the soap you open your eyes and see a massive shadow behind the shower curtain and you freeze, the shadow didn’t move but was shaped like a huge man, almost impossibly large.

You close your eyes, and rip open the curtain as you scream “Go away!” staying still, eyes remaining closed waiting for something awful to happen but nothing happens. You open your eyes and see nothing there I need to get some sleep; I must be hallucinating from feeling tired you finish up showering and put a towel around your body shit I forgot my Pj’s! You step outside the bathroom and look through your drawers and find your clothes and as you take off your towel, you get the urge to check the hallway. You walk over to the door and look through to the end of the hall to where the spare rooms are, despite being fully naked you step out knowing you won’t be seen by neighbors and you walk to the spare rooms and open the doors to look inside. The blinds are closed and the windows are shut in one room, you head to the other room where there was an old boudoir table with an oval mirror, you walk over to check the window and slowly peer out through the blinds in case there was something worrisome outside… nothing. You feel a bit uneasy in this room with the window that peered out over the street and you suddenly get goosebumps, you feel like there’s someone behind you but you are too scared to look until you see a reflection of a something in the window, it looks like its right behind you…a familiar feeling washes over you and you freeze in place. You look up and see two hands placed on the top of the windows border and realize someone massive is right behind you, you panic and your heart is now beating so fast yet you can’t seem to move and all you can do is let out is a little whimper. You gaze up slightly again and see a white face move closer to the window to also look through the blinds, you can feel a dense fabric now rubbing up against your exposed backside and it begins to press into you as the face gets closer to the window. You feel a sense of dread and also arousal?! The persons body presses into you the more forward they lean toward the window to the point where your face is almost pressed onto the cold glass, you keep staring at the white face which you notice looks a lot like a mask… you see the fabric and it is a dark navy color that looks a lot more of a dusty grey from old age… Oh god…Is this, Michael!? As you are looking up at the mask you can’t help but feel so vulnerable being naked up against this massive mountain of a man. Is he going to kill me? Does he not see me? What is he doing, why isn’t he reacting to me being here?

Suddenly the mask slowly lowers and you see an ice blue eye peering through the pitch-black slit of the masks eye hole, it was almost glowing… “MICHAEL!?” he immediately backs away and you fall to the ground and black out from the adrenaline.

[mercy-burning]

Good Little Helper

Pairing: Season 5! Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: Reader gets assigned to be Spencer’s personal assistant of sorts after he gets shot in the knee. Category: SMUT(18+) Content Warnings: fingering (female receiving), blowjob, praise kink, dirty talk, blink and you’ll miss it cumplay Word Count: 4.7k

MASTERLIST

NOTE: So, remember yesterday when I posted about how I wished new ideas would stop distracting me from everything I’m currently working on? Yeah. This wouldn’t leave me alone, and I couldn’t work on anything until I got it out of my head, so here! Have a fic! (It was supposed to be a blurb, but I got a little long-winded so now it’s too long to be a blurb oops 😙✌) Also, I apologize for any editing mistakes, I just wrote this out in one go, so hopefully it’s alright!

***

Being assigned to assist Dr. Reid with practically his every need after he was shot in the knee wasn't exactly how I expected to spend the past few months.

And that's, like... a huge understatement.

In fact, when Agent Hotchner came up to me in the break room and said he'd like me to do the job, I dropped my coffee and shattered a mug. I could tell he was a little impatient with me, even through his kind reassurances that it was quite all right as he helped me clean it up and waited for an answer.

In the end I'd said yes to the job, though the more I thought about it the more I wondered how much lust and naivete had clouded my judgement when I did.

Because there was absolutely no way I was going to be able to survive weeks, possibly months, as Spencer Reid's assistant. Not only because he was intimidatingly intelligent and there was almost nothing I could offer him in decent conversation, but also—and more prominently—the fact that I was pretty sure I was in love with him.

Maybe that was a stretch. I definitely had a stupid major crush on him that felt more like we were in middle school, but I could barely look at him without going warm all over. In fact, I think we had only ever made eye contact once and I averted my gaze immediately, afraid I'd give myself away. If I'd have held it any longer, I was positive I'd have burst into flames.

He'd tried talking to me once, a few months after I started working at the Bureau, and it was only to ask if I'd send some files over to their tech analyst, Penelope Garcia, but when I tried answering, I stumbled over my words and ended up only getting out a squeaked, "Uh huh," before taking the files from him and scurrying off.

I almost cried that day.

Basically every time I was in his presence, I was a total wreck. Even more so than I was on any other given day.

Being his assistant did get fairly easy pretty early on, though. I mostly just stayed out of his way while he worked, and if he need anything that he could've gotten himself if not for the injury, it was my job to get it for him. I worked on my own paperwork most of the time, and he was always busy working on geographical profiles and whatever else, we only ever really had to talk when he asked for something. And that only required a, "Sure," on my end, so I could just get up, get what he needed, and then go back to work.

Still, it didn't help that sometimes I'd get distracted.

He was very distracting.

I usually waited until I was sure he was so busy in work that I wouldn't get caught. And that's when I'd peek over my computer or hide behind a book and stare at him. I know that sounds creepier than it is, but if you had to spend almost every hour of the day with him, you'd have done the same. Even though for months he was put on rest from the field, he always showed up looking more like a college professor than an FBI agent. Which, I suppose suited him more anyway. Regardless, it was a damn fine look. His hair was decently long and extremely pretty, and when he got the cane?

I was a goner.

It was at that point, though, when I started to realize that he probably wouldn't need my help anymore. He'd been allowed back into the filed by then, and even when I went with them on cases it still felt like I was more out of place than usual. Sure, I'd picked up on some minor skills that aided in profiling and otherwise, but at the end of the day I was still only a desk clerk. Sooner or later, I knew there would be a time where Agent Hotchner would inevitably tell me that I'd done a good job and could return to my menial day job.

So, even though Dr. Reid and I had gotten into a pretty regular, non-awkward rhythm, I was being a little more squirrely than usual.

And of course, he noticed.

"Y/N, are you doing alright?" he asked, looking up from his stack of paperwork. That was another thing we'd ended up doing— late into the night after everyone had gone home, we stayed late in the conference room and quietly filled out paperwork.

I barely looked him in the eye when I answered. "O—Oh, mhm. I'm fine."

"Oh... You just seem... a little different today."

On any other day I would have freaked out on the inside like a teenager, excited that he'd noticed me at all enough to notice a difference in my behavior. But that was his job after all.

"Actually, you seem rather... sad."

I did look up at him this time, and the soft glow of the table lamp lit up his features— features that looked me over with concern. I could feel my face grow warmer with every second I looked at him, until I quickly looked back down at my paper and shook my head.

"N—No, I'm okay. Promise. Just a little tired, that's all."

Usually he would have left it at that, given we didn't ever really have longer conversations than that that didn't pertain to whatever case the BAU was working on. But he pushed further, and I swallowed.

"Are you sure? Because... You can tell me if there's something wrong. I'm a good listener..."

Did I dare tell him what was really plaguing me? That I was scared I wasn't going to be able to spend time with him every day, thus most likely giving away my crush? That is, if he hadn't already figured it out by this point... Truthfully it wouldn't have surprised me.

The thought made me go warm again, and still, I kept my head down.

"I'm sure..."

And then I did something I probably shouldn't have. I looked back up at him, just a quick glance, but under his intense gaze I crumbled, flitting my eyes back down and playing with my hands.

"Is it... because of me?"

Afraid suddenly that I'd made him feel bad, I straightened a little. "No! No, not at all I... Um... I—I guess I'm just... A little sad that I'm probably... not going to be of any help to you anymore. You know, now that you're healing up."

A small smile flashed over his face, and I inwardly melted.

"Oh... In that case I... I guess I'm sad, too."

"Really?" I asked softly, my heart jumping.

"Mhm," he answered back in earnest. His features were softer than they'd ever been, eyes wide and kind, smile inviting... "You've been a great help. And you're fun to be around."

I couldn't help but smile shyly at his confession, completely bewildered that he'd think of me as someone he'd enjoyed being around, though I'd offered just about nothing interesting to any conversation we'd had. "Y—You don't mean that..."

"I do."

"C'mon, really? I... I—mean... coming from you that's... that's too generous."

He laughed a little. "How do you mean?"

"I... Well, y—you're you... I mean, you're... smart, and nice, and cu— uh,... n—nice..." I stumbled hard on that last one, squeezing my eyes shut at the thought of almost calling him cute to his face... And then I realized I'd called him nice two times... in a row.

I hadn't even realized he'd gotten up and walked over to me until I felt his cane gently tap my leg. I jumped, looking up at him and almost crumbled again right then and there. He stood over me, tall and clearly amused, and I wanted to just curl up and hide where no one would ever find me.

I also didn't want to be craning my neck so far up to see him, so I stood up, sending my chair rolling back a foot or two. The added height was better, but he was still fiarly taller than me, and with the way were standing so close to each other?

Maybe I'd made a mistake...

"I—I'm sorry," I stammered.

Still amused, Spencer tilted his head a small amount. "What for?"

"I... I don't know, m—making this awkward?"

"It's not awkward."

"It... It's not?"

He shook his head, quiet for a few beats before he nearly whispered. "What were you going to say?"

I paused. "I... What?"

"Before... You said I was smart. And nice... And... What else?"

It sounded like he was trying to get me to confess something, and quite honestly I couldn't tell if it was for humiliation or amusement or clarification purposes. I mean, it was probably safe to assume he wouldn't go out of his way to humiliate me, but... it still made me nervous.

"I—I didn't... I..."

"Y/N... Tell me?"

I'd been cornered. Quite literally, too, as my lower back hit the edge of the table. My hands shook anxiously at my sides as I contemplated what to say. The truth? Embarrassing for me. A lie? I was no good at telling lies, and I'd still end up embarrassed, because he'd be able to tell.

So, after a very long silence in which he waited on me to answer, I blurted out, as quietly as possible, "Cute."

The word sounded juvenile coming from my mouth. Right now, standing under Dr. Reid's intense scrutiny, it didn't even feel like the right word to describe him. Not that it wasn't true... But it just wasn't an elegant enough descriptor for him.

And that alone probably proved just how different we were. How out of my league he was...

"That's what I thought you were going to say," he mused, slightly breaking me out of my self-deprecation.

I would have asked him something then, anything to keep myself from looking like even more of a fool with a childish schoolgirl crush, but all words escaped me entirely. All I could do was look up at him, slowly growing warm under the intensity of his eyes and praying he wouldn't think of me as silly.

Though, it wouldn't have mattered, because he kept talking anyway, his body taking up even more space around me as his arms came around to well and truly trap me against the table.

"You're right, you know... I'm almost completely healed, and pretty soon I think I won't need an assistant anymore."

I was scared that maybe I was wrong before, and he'd actually humiliate me now, though the look in his eyes suggested otherwise. I wasn't sure what to make of all of it. SO I just stood there, trying to breath steadily as Spencer studied my face.

"And I meant it... That makes me sad. You know why?"

I shook my head, afraid to make a sound.

His head dipped lower, close enough that I could feel his breath on my mouth as he spoke. "I probably won't get to see you every day."

"Y—you want to see me?" I couldn't help but ask.

He scanned my eyes, amusement and something else lingering there as he did. "Yes."

And then he kissed me.

It was a short distance, but it felt like we went far. And I hadn't even registered that I whimpered into his mouth until he returned it with a low groan that boiled my insides and absolutely melted me. I was helpless against him as he pressed himself further against me and used his hands to keep my back steady.

The whole time my mind was swimming with dizziness. It felt like my body was covered in butterflies from head to toe, particularly strong where his hands pressed into me and his cane rested firmly along the inside of my thigh.

I leaned forward when he pulled away, because I was afraid that he was saying goodbye. But one of his hands came up to my face and my eyes fluttered open, immediately taking notice of how messy his hair was now that I'd had my fingers in it.

I must have looked scared, because suddenly his eyes changed, and he removed his hands away from me altogether, putting distance in between us. "I—I'm sorry. I shouldn't have kissed you without asking..."

The relief that rushed through my body must have gotten to my head, because I breathed out a demand I'd never have had the courage to get out before.

"Do it again."

One second I was staring at him, admittedly afraid that he'd regretted all of it, and the next I was seeing stars as he came forward and kissed me again. His hands cradled my face as he did so, coming on to me with gentle care while still maintaining that hunger that surprised and excited me.

I hadn't realized how much I missed his touch until he'd given it back to me, my body once again melting into him and allowing him to do whatever it is that pleased him.

Apparently that was lifting my leg off the ground and making me sit on the table.

My body went along with it easily, and I was glad for it because my brain was nothing but mush, unable to process fully how he'd decided that I was worth kissing. All I really knew was that I wanted him. Anything he wanted from me, I was willing to give. And that must have come across very clearly, because when he pulled away and spoke to me, I whimpered at his words.

"Y/N... You've been such a good girl, helping me with whatever I needed these past few months..." Meanwhile his hand danced along the hem of my skirt, the tiny brushes of his skin against mine sending me into a mess of shivers.

"I think it's about time I've thanked you for all your help, don't you think?"

The implications in his tone made me whine again, and I pressed my forehead into his, our noses brushing as I answered. "Please."

I was so taken by the way he groaned as his lips connected with mine once more that I almost didn't realize that his hand was now fully up my skirt, his fingers drawing gentle lines over my panties and practically making me melt again. His hungry kisses contradicted the softness he took to my clothed cunt, a fact that warmed me to my core and made me want him more than ever.

When he slipped the fabric aside and ran the pad of his finger through me, I whined hard against his mouth, something that must have excited him— He nipped at my bottom lip and took a deep breath.

"How long have you wanted this, Princess?"

If not for the kissing and the finger slowly sliding up through my arousal, the nickname would have done me in. By now I was an utter wreck, but I somehow still managed to answer, even through a little stammering. "F—Forever."

It was the best I could come up with.

He breathed a laugh as his finger circled my clit. "That's a long time..."

"Uh huh," was all I could manage in response. My body and my brain were too focused on the things his finger was doing to my body, involuntarily rolling my hips forward for more. I needed more.

Thankfully he picked up on my urgency and reciprocated with slipping his middle finger inside me, one knuckle, then two...

I cried out as my head lurched forward, connecting our mouths once again. My hands clutched around his neck and my fingers tugged at his hair to keep myself from falling, because the slow, searing pace at which he fingered me made me wonder how I'd still been able to breathe.

He added another finger soon enough, picking up the pace and rendering me practically useless in his embrace. Meanwhile I registered the sound of his own little whines, still deeper than mine but little enough to tip me off that he was enjoying this just as much as I was, and that alone helped get me further along in pleasure.

I pulled my mouth from his reluctantly, squeezing my eyes shut as I allowed my forehead to rest against his. "D—Doctor, I'm c... I'm so close."

"His honorific falling breathlessly from my mouth seemed to do something sinister to him, because his fingers sped up and his breathing got heavier.

"Yeah? You gonna come for me, Princess?"

My stomach tightened and I nodded as best as I could, relishing in the sounds coming from below us, wet and downright filthy.

"Go ahead...Be a good girl and come for me... You deserve it..."

Each little sentence was punctuated with a slightly faster pace, each one bringing me closer and closer until I squeaked into his mouth and shook violently around his fingers, my vision going white. My legs had been open wide since he'd started teasing under my skirt, but now they threatened to clamp shut from the intensity. But I wanted nothing more than to be good for him, to make this as easy as possible, so I held out and kept them open as wide as I could stand as my orgasm rocked through me.

Spencer whispered praises into my skin as his hand slowed and his mouth trailed down to my neck. And even though it was more than nice feeling him lick and bite over my skin, I felt rather sad when he removed his fingers from me.

That sadness didn't last long though, not when he pulled back and studied me for a moment, eyes lust-blown and purely ravenous before he brought his glistening fingers up to my mouth.

I didn't even have to think. I brought my tongue out and let him slip his fingers over it, closing my mouth around them and sighing as I sucked them clean. This only seemed to excite him more, his features displaying all sorts of desperation until he couldn't take it anymore.

He kissed me again, bringing both his hands to rest at my waist. And with his hands so low I wondered if maybe he'd take to ridding himself of his own pants, but it never happened. Rather, he pulled away after minutes of more kissing, and sighed quite sadly as his upper body pressed firmly into mine.

Something else pressed firmly against me as well—right along the inside of my thigh—and I gasped, mind running wild through all the possible outcomes of the night.

But Spencer only stood there, occasionally nudging his nose against mine while his hands gently kneaded my sides.

"D—Do you want to stop?" I asked softly, afraid he'd regret what we did.

He proved me wrong. "God, no... It's... It's just that I'm still not cleared enough for any... strenuous activity on my leg, and I don't..."

I didn't want to push him, obviously, but I thought I could make the mood a little lighter. "O—Oh, well on the bright side... I could stay your assistant for a while longer."

The laugh that rumbled in his throat made me smile, though from the way he stood there, I knew he wouldn't risk it.

"Um... Raincheck?" he whispered.

On the one hand, that meant he definitely wanted to see me again, and I was more than happy with that. But also, that meant our fun for the night was done...

Yet... Maybe not...

"Sure," I answered, pecking his lips once more. Then I brought my hand to his chest and slid it down until I reached his belt, and I leaned back to look him in the eye, a boldness I never imagined coming from me in a million years.

"But I can still help you..."

I watched the desperation and disappointment in his features slowly dissolve into a newfound hunger—and an amusement—that grew my confidence tenfold.

"Oh?" Spencer mused. "How do you suppose you can help me this time?"

He wanted me to say it. So, without second guessing myself anymore, I grazed my finger over his erection. "I'm very good with my mouth, Dr. Reid."

He grabbed me by the hand then, dragging me along to the chair I'd kicked back before and sat himself down, one of his hands still gripping the cane. Matched with the desire in his eyes and the swollenness of his lips and the tousled strands of his hair, the sight was truly something to behold. It was something that only ever existed in my dreams, nd now it was real.

Not wanting to waste any time, I sunk to my knees and nestled myself in between his legs. He reached out and caressed my cheek before lifting my chin with his middle finger.

"You like being my good little helper?" he drawled.

I tried to nod, but he clicked his tongue and held my chin in place. "Words, Princess."

"Yes. I—I'd do anything you asked. Anything you want, it's yours..."

He hummed then, removing his hand from my face and moving to undo his belt swiftly with only one hand. The action, the sound, everything... it was enough to make me wet again, and I subtly ground down onto the heel of my foot as I watched him pull himself free from the confines of his pants.

I didn't have time to marvel at him before I was drawn forward like a magnet, my hands crawling up his legs and my eyes batting up at him, ready and eager to please him however he wanted.

"Eager, are we?" he mused once more, gently stroking himself with his hand.

"Yes, Doctor," I breathed, inching closer and kissing the outside of his hand.

His movement stopped then, and it didn't take longer than a second for him to decide to let me work on my own.

"Then have at it, Princess..."

I started by kissing my way up the length of him, taking my time to gauge his reactions as I did so, occasionally darting my tongue out to taste him. Once I reached the tip, I sucked on it gently, using my tongue to swirl around it until I could taste the saltiness of his precum.

And then I started taking him slowly into my mouth, watching above me as Spencer's eyes started to shut, obviously debating whether or not to lay back and enjoy this or watch me intently.

Either way, I was more than happy to keep it up, finally getting him to the back of my throat. I flexed my tongue and held him there as long as I could, promptly gagging over him and blinking tears from my eyes as he let out a loudest sound I'd heard from him yet. His head flew back and his tongue quivered along his bottom lip as he cursed my name.

The act made me proud, so I retreated for air, sucked at his tip again for a few seconds, and then repeated it, taking him down my throat again and watching through teary eyes as he visibly swallowed and squeezed his eyes shut.

"Fuck, Y/N, you're so... Such a good fucking girl..."

The praise caused my insides to burn hot, and I ground down onto my heel again, lifting my mouth to start bobbing up and down.

His eyes opened then, and he looked down at me, using his hand to brush stray hair from my face and the other to grip onto his cane for dear life. I looked up at him the whole time, making sure to convey through not only my actions but also my eyes that I loved this. I thrived off of his praise, I enjoyed the feel of his dick gliding over my tongue and hitting the back of my throat, and I longed to feel him coat the inside of my mouth with his release.

I was so entirely into him in every capacity, it wasn't even funny.

I was so glad he could tell, a smile grazing his features as his hand gently gripped some of my hair. "So eager to please, Princess... And so fucking good at delivering..."

I whined onto his dick as he held me down, rendering me immobile. The only thing I could do was look up at him and choke, and of course, I was more than happy to do it. In turn, I was met with a deep groan and a tug of the hair.

"Hold it, hold it... Atta girl..."

My cunt throbbed at his words, and my throat continued to burn, tears falling down my face at ten-speed until finally, he let up and pulled me off of him.

I coughed a little and blinked away tears as I caught my breath, Spencer's fingers combing hair from my face as he smiled proudly.

He didn't even need to say anything then. I wanted to give him more. So I leaned down again and took him in my mouth, quickly making work of his tip while my hand came up and stroked the rest of him.

"Fuck, Princess, just like that... Make me come just like that..."

Rather than just continuing, I offered him a high whine and a wide gaze, hoping to exceed expectations.

I guess it worked, because he came right then, his dick pulsing over my tongue and in my hand as his warm release shot down my throat and over my tongue. I hummed around him, fluttering my eyes closed at the taste and the feeling, probably enjoying the fact that I'd done this to him more than I should have.

It was worth it to see the look on his face, though, after he'd given me all he had and I purposely spit some of it out onto the tip of his dick so I could lick it up and give him just a little more stimulation after the fact. His mouth hung open, eyes heavy and unwilling to leave me, even as I finished and sat back to wipe the tears and saliva from my face with a satisfied smile.

Though, the longer he looked at me, the more shy I became. Funny when I'd just had his dick down my throat, but I'd never been good with people staring at me for long periods of time.

"Was that... Was that okay?" I asked, suddenly worried I hadn't done something to his standards. "I know I don't do this a lot, so I'm sorry if it wasn't that g—"

"Y/N..."

I blinked up at him, still on my knees and unwilling to move. Not that I wanted to, but I couldn't even if I had.

"That was fucking perfect... I meant it, you're... so good."

I knew he was capable of better words, but after having the life sucked out of you, I could imagine 'better words' were hard to come by. Still, I laughed a little, playing with the hem of my skirt. "Good. I'm... glad I could help."

He smiled at me, readjusting his pants and then moving to help me off the ground.

"Hey, uh... Even when you go back to your regular job after I get better, I... I hope you know you're always welcome to come visit me if we're not busy."

The words warmed me in a different way, my heart swelling as well. "You... You mean that?"

Spencer nodded, grabbing my hand and dragging his thumb over my wrist. "Of course. I mean, you're more than just a good helper, you know. You're also kind, and smart, and cute..."

I laughed at his emphasis on cute, heat warming my face. "Ha-ha..."

"I really mean it, though," he said softly, removing his hand from mind and bringing it up to lift my chin, so I'd meet his eyes. They were swimming with sincerity, the epitome of warmth and comfort and kindness— the kind that always drew me to him in the first place. "And... If you'd want to maybe ditch the paperwork one day and grab a coffee or something, maybe—"

"Yes," I interrupted without thinking. My heartbeat picked up upon seeing the look in his eyes when I agreed, a mixture of amusement and relief. "Y—Yes, I'd love to."

"Good. Then it's a date?"

"Definitely."

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[emwritesstuff]

housesitting | bucky barnes x reader

summary: Housesitting for Steve Rogers has many perks. The man has the comfiest bed you’ve ever slept in; his coffee machine is top tier; and he also pays for every single streaming service you could think of, because he doesn’t wanna miss anything.

You can hardly see how Bucky Barnes stumbling into his apartment at 3 am with multiple wounds is one of them. But I guess it might be?

notes: this is my attempt at a more ~comedy centered one-shot, with some making out in the middle because uh, who doesn’t like that? In other news, reader is Chaotic. Canon mcu (Infinity War/Endgame) is non-existent in this.  (word count: 3K)

warnings: language, mentions of blood, gunshot wounds, general patching up shenanigans, some making out/grinding but not quite third base

[PART 2: breaking and entering]

Housesitting for Steve Rogers has many perks. The man has the comfiest bed you’ve ever slept in; his coffee machine is top tier; and he also pays for every single streaming service you could think of, because he doesn’t wanna miss anything. An old popsicle thing, you assume.

It’s peaceful, too. The neighborhood is nice and quiet, the other tenants are either extremely polite or too scared of Captain America to make much noise. You’ve had very nice stay-cations at his place, where you were free to choose to binge The Office while eating an entire pizza in the spam of 2 episodes or taking advantage of the quiet to write your grad-school thesis.

So when a loud BANG almost makes you drop your coffee mug on the floor, your spidey senses are immediately on alert. You don’t care how many times Peter insisted that it wasn’t a thing, your arm hairs stood up and your heart started hammering on your chest all the same.

You contemplate squeezing under the bed, turning off the show that was long abandoned and hiding until whatever it is goes away, but before you can do any of that, a string of sharp cursing and soft thumps and thuds snaps you out of your fear.

Maybe it’s a burglar. You could take a clumsy burglar, easy.

Now feeling like Tony had just welcomed you into the Avengers, you hop off Steve’s bed and let your baby Yoda socked feet carry you stealthily into the living room, holding a table lamp as if it was a baseball bat.

Everything is quiet, with no signs of forced entry at the door (you remember someone on Law and Order using those words), and in the dark you don’t notice the bloody trail coming from the kitchen.

You’re imagining things, then. When was the last time you slept? You don’t even feel tired, but you know sleep deprivation always gets you all kinds of crazy.

It happens the second your arm falls to your side and your posture shows the slight of relaxation. A strong arm around your neck and a hand against your mouth to muffle the screaming.

In the quiet of Steve’s apartment building, there is only you shrieking and howling and thrashing against the hold of a stranger.

“Don’t fuckin’ move.” You still.

And then you bite into the hand that is muting you, immediately regretting it when your teeth sink into something hard. Metal? Concrete? Ouch. You resume your resistance, determined, and is shoved away.

“Who the fuck are you?”

“Who the fuck are you.” His voice is gruff and dulled over the mask he is wearing, and as you’re taking this giant of a man in, you notice it.

The metal arm. The strapped leather jacket. The tortured blue eyes.

Winter Soldier.

The intruder is James “Bucky” Barnes, Steve’s best friend. That’s who the fuck it is.

“I’m Steve’s house sitter! I even have a key.” You say, with arms in front of you to signal no harm but inching closer to the table lamp with every step.

“House…sitter? Where’s Steve?”

“Who knows. Maybe a mission. He texts me, I come over.” You shrug, and put a chair back to where it was before it got knocked over.

“I don’t believe you. Where is Steve?”

“Listen, I don’t know, okay? I guess he’s just out for a few days. I don’t ask. He just lets me stay in here so I can water the plants and feed the Avengers.”

“The– the what?”

“The Avengers! The fish, see.” You point to the aquarium, where a handful of colorful fish swam peacefully in.

Peace. So much for your peace, because now what you have is a surly super soldier eyeing the fish tank like it was the most loathsome thing in the entire universe, except maybe for you.

“I hate this thing. Naming them makes it even worse.” He trudges back to the kitchen, stomping on the floor like he was on a parade.

So much for the other people’s peace, too.

“Hey! Sir. In case you haven’t noticed, it’s 3 in the fucking morning?” You sass, putting your hands on your hips when he retorts that yeah, he does know. “What are you even doing here?”

“Back from a mission.” He grumbles without looking at you, as if you’re the one who stumbled into his place in the middle of the night.

It wasn’t your place, but still.

“Don’t you have a house?” There’s a part of you that knows pushing the Winter Soldier’s buttons is asking for trouble, but your tired and confused brain decides to ignore it.

“You interrogating me? I need a motherfucking– ” He wheezes and nearly doubles over, holding on the door frame between the living room and the kitchen. You finally spot the blood, both on the tiles and seeping out of the Soldier’s jacket and pants.

He’s hurt. Shit.

“– first aid kit.”

“You need a motherfucking hospital!” You shrill, panic chilling your bones. You don’t do blood. Or any kind of wound, for that matter.

The man ignores you, opening up cabinets hastily. You huff, and walk past him to get to the actual home of the first aid kit. Steve’s oldest, closest friend and can’t even find a box with pharmaceutical supplies in his kitchen. You slam it on the counter next to him.

“You’re welcome.”

“Zip it.”

Just a look from him is enough to render you speechless, and not in the good, butterflies-in-your-stomach kind of way. You’re positive that one swat of that metal arm and you’ll be flying out of the window.

He begins by removing his mask, revealing a handsome face underneath, and you try your best to focus on how dark and menacing it looked while locked in that scowl of his. Then, he unbuckles his jacket and discards it on the floor, it coming to a stop next to your feet.

Oh man, he’s naked. Well, not really, just the incredibly toned, strong and muscular top half of him, but you stare wide-eyed as if he was.

“See somethin’ you like, doll?” He quips, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, and you turn your back to him, mostly to hide your own embarrassment.

“No.” You cross your arms resolutely, because you definitely don’t think he’s attractive. He is a rude, grumpy, private-property-invader-bastard. Doll. Yuck.

You hear a rumble come out of his chest. Is he laughing? Shithead. Other noises follow, wheezes, small grunts and the tinkle of metal on the marble counter.

A particular pained grunt makes you turn, and you see Barnes with his body twisted, trying to reach a bloody hole on his back. It would be funny if he wasn’t trying to poke a gunshot.

“Do you need… help?” You ask, against your own will, only to be met with his icy gaze.

“No.”

“Come on, you can’t even reach that.”

Another glare is shot your way, and you quirk your brow up. He did need the help, you think, because aside from the muscles and the sweat making him glisten like a delicious – wait what – glazed donut, the man looked like hell.

“…fine.” He slides a pair of surgical prongs, something you identify in your head as oversized tweezers, and you instantly regret your offer. Pressing an iodine-soaked cotton ball to a wound, sure. But not this.

He turns his back to you without a word, supporting himself on the marble. You think that he’s about to make a dent on the goddamn stone if he keeps holding onto it that hard.

“Ah, fuck. Shit. Fuck. Ugh, it’s so gross. Fuck.”

It’s the most horrifying thing you’ve ever done, but you try your best to get to the bullet quickly, so very thankful that Barnes holds himself perfectly still for you. “Got it!”

He lets out a long breath when you toss the prongs and the bullet on the counter with the rest and resumes his cleanup. So, he’s not even going to say thanks. Great.

You try not to think about how you still want to make conversation while you hurriedly scrub the blood from your hands, because aside from the hostility and him jumping on you as a meet-cute, the guy peeks your interest.

Steve has said Barnes is nice, too, and you believed Steve, because he’s basically incapable of lying. Or maybe because he’s pretty. Both, for sure.

With your hands now clean, you turn to him, mouth open with some kind of conversation starter that is immediately forgotten.

Oh man, he’s naked. For real this time.

Bucky Barnes has stepped out of his pants while you were overthinking by the sink, now standing in only a pair of black boxers. It’s like he feels you staring at his butt, because he turns to you with raised eyebrows.

“Last one’s on my thigh. I got it.” He’s holding the prongs this time, and you’re glad you don’t have to do anything, because your face next to that groin might make you go into spontaneous combustion.

“Yeah.”

He hums. You hope all of this is a fever dream.

“Isn’t there a med bay at–”

“Don’t like people prodding and pokin’ at me.” His comment makes you grimace. He’s the Winter Soldier, damn it. You know the stories, everyone does. Of course he doesn’t like being prodded.

He looks at you funny, probably because you went dead quiet. You don’t want him to think you feel pity, because you don’t, but god don’t you feel bad for poking him now, even if verbally.

“I’m gonna – grab one of Steve’s – uh. Dude you need to put some clothes on. Jesus.”

He laughs at you again, which you’re thankful for because anything is better than the awkwardness of the other subject. You pick up a black pair of sweatpants that was so deep in one of Steve’s drawers that you know he’d have to have bought it and never had the guts to put it on. This one would do just fine.

If there is one thing Steve Rogers isn’t, is a black sweats guy.

“Here.” You deposit the sweats and a white tee on the counter, one of the millions that you found inside the closet. Barnes was patching himself up now, bandages wrapped everywhere on his body.

Got his ass kicked good. You shudder when you imagine the state of the other guy.

He eyes the clothes, and saying nothing, returns to his task. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

“I didn’t ask you to help me.”

“Yeah, but I did anyways! ‘Cause I’m stupid, I guess.” You almost hurl a dirty plate at him when he scoffs, muttering a yeah, guess you are. “God, why are you so grumpy?”

“Well you try being shot 5 times and see how cheerful you are after.”

“You got shot 5 times?!”

Looking at you from between his brows, the Soldier nods to the five mangled bullets sitting on the counter. You think about how you’ve made yourself a sandwich just hours earlier on the exact same spot. You want to puke.

Taking time to look around yourself, you can finally grasp the state of Steve’s ever-so-pristine kitchen, now a mess of dirty clothes, blood and your own few dishes from the night before. You don’t even think about what you’re doing as you move, gathering every single cleaning supply you can find, and start working on the cleanup.

You’re struggling, because obviously you’ve never done this before. Anyone can tell, from your soft abdomen and your severe lack of muscle, that you’re not an Avenger. Sure, you work with them, but you’re usually neck deep into advanced tech, not in the gym by any means. Also, you don’t do blood.

That means you have to think about something else, anything else, while you’re manically cleaning the floor. One sheep, two sheep, three sheep, the Winter Soldier’s tight ass, four sheep, get it together goddamnit –

“Leave it. I’ll clean.”

You huff, he huffs back, and you look up at him.

“You got shot five times. Go sit down or something before you blow your back too, grandpa.” You call him that to assure yourself that he is old, like actually super old, and thirsting over him is weird. Even weirder when he’s all bandaged and bleeding. And still shirtless. Shit.

He mumbles something that you ignore, and stomps off. You think you actually did a pretty decent job with the cleaning, considering.

You need coffee. Definitely an entire bottle of vodka too, but there was no alcohol in this god’s good home, so you settle for the brew that you made earlier. You pour a mug for Barnes too, because you’re nice like that, and amble into the living room to find him slumped on a chair.

“Coffee?” You start, settling his mug on the table next to him.

“It’s almost 5 a.m.”

“Guess I’m up early for once. Maybe I should go for a run.”

He snorts, and opens one eye to inspect you from where he is. He reaches out for the coffee, using his metal hand, and you consider the two ways this could go.

He’d shatter the mug right then and there. Or, he’d throw it at you. Your jaw goes slack at what he actually does, sirens blaring loudly in your head. Truly astonishing, the most bewildering turn of events.

He drinks from it.

“Thanks. Quit staring at me.”

“Wow, Mr. Winter knows the magic words. Mr. Barnes. Sergeant?” You’re thinking aloud, abandoning any trace of sanity you’ve been holding. You even sit on the couch next to his armchair.

“It’s Bucky,”

Again, absolutely bewildering. You must be going insane.

“– and you talk too much.” He finishes, with an end-of-story tone, and returns to his rest. At least that felt like normality.

“Bucky. Bucky.” You roll the name on your tongue, feeling a weird buzz start to take over you. It grows stronger when you notice he’s looking at you, one brow quirked as if you lost your marbles. “You know, Bucky, this is definitely not how I saw my night going. Home invasion, playing surgeon – not my usual kind of fun.”

You get up, maybe because you decide that you – and Bucky – need a blanket, or maybe because you need a distraction from his chest going up and down like it’s got a business with making you want to touch it.

You’re not a slut, but who knows? Jim Halper would get it.

“You’re that kid, aren’t you? Stark’s assistant.” Bucky’s voice, low and husky, makes you jump. You look at him, your eyebrows furrowed slightly.

It’s surprising that he knows you, considering. He’s – well, he’s basically a celebrity, if ex-assassins could be considered that. You’re only Tony’s techie, and you and Bucky have never actually met, not even in the few parties you had attended to stop your boss from nagging you that you had to actually go out and have some fun sometimes, because you’re still young and cute and you need to enjoy yourself before you get saggy and bitter.

Jokes on him, you were born bitter.

“I’m no kid.”

“Nice socks.”

You wiggle your toes and it makes the ears of one of the baby Yodas move.

“Still not a kid! If you wanna be sad and wear your sad, plain socks, Bucky, that’s entirely your choice.” You said, pointing your index at him, making circles in the air with it to really get your point across.

Bucky smirks, and you go up to him with the two blankets on your arms. He’s blocking the door with that bulky body of his, and you raise your eyebrows quizzically.

“I’ll have you know – meeting Steve’s annoying, mouthy, pretty house sitter is not how I saw my night going either.” Bucky puts a doubtful tone on house sitter, as if he still doesn’t get exactly what it means.

You blink. You’re positive you heard it wrong. Is he… is this flirting?

“You think I’m pretty?”

“I called you annoying and mouthy too.”

“Yeah, I mean I know that much about me.” You chuckle, rolling your eyes. “The pretty part is new though.”

Bucky still hasn’t moved from the doorframe, and you find yourself staring up at him. He is inches away now, pupils blown wide in the darkness, and you can see a ring of steely blue around them. He licks his lips, and you’re drawn in.

The maelstrom in his eyes sends you spinning.

“I think someone should say you’re not see through, much less–”

Bucky shuts you up by pressing his lips onto yours, a slow, exploratory kiss, the tenderest he’s been all night. His metal hand rests on your lower back, making you shiver at the cool touch.

You’re all panting and eagerness when you cup his face with both hands and press your body against his. You need to deepen this kiss. You haven’t drooled over Bucky Barnes all night to keep things lovey-dovey.

He responds in earnest, pulling you closer. The flesh hand on the back of your neck is a stark contrast against the chill of the other. You and Bucky stumble from the corridor and back to the living room, knocking over a few of Steve’s decorations in the process.

“I don’t feel as bad for this one.” You mumble against his lips, stopping to look at a particular framed picture of Captain America in uniform, surrounded by every single counterfeit Cap in Times Square.

“S’ one of his favorites.”

You nod, you’re aware. Steve thinks it’s the most hilarious thing ever.

Bucky’s breath tickles the hairs on your neck when he continues.

“I hate it.”

“Yeah.”

You capture his lips again, and you two resume your chaotic redecorating. You’re thankful for Bucky’s strong arms keeping you from falling over, because at this point you’re not sure if your legs work anymore.

He takes you with him when he drops down on the same armchair from earlier, and the dizzy spell you find yourself in is broken when you hear him groan.

Right. He’s battered up and stuff.

“Shit, Bucky, I’m sorry–”

“No.” He pulls you close again, and guides your body to straddle one of his thighs. “Stay right here, doll.”

Doll. God-fucking-damnit.

His hand moves under the elastic band of your pants, oh my god you’re making out with Bucky-Hot-Piece-Of-Ass-Barnes in your wiener dog pajama bottoms, and finds the hem of your underwear. He pulls on it, and you yelp when he lets it snap against your side.

He laughs, and you vibrate along with his chest.

You find yourself grinding on his leg, sucking on his bottom lip, raking your nails along his shoulders, doing anything, everything for more, trying to burn the taste and the feel of him on your memory. He moves on to kiss your neck and you sigh, tugging on his hair and making sure you’re holding on for dear life.

Your eyes flutter open, enough to see the fish Avengers in their tank.

The Avengers.

Steve Rogers is an Avenger. So is Bucky, technically.

You’re making out with Bucky. One of his hands is on your boob.

This is Steve’s apartment.

You manage to sober you up enough, despite Bucky’s constant attacks of open mouth kisses and bites on your neck.

“I don’t think Steve would – if we–” You lift your head begrudgingly to look at him. “You know, on his armchair.”

“Right.” He didn’t seem convinced, but his hand moved up from your butt to your waist again.

Steve Rogers was probably miles away right now and still cockblocking you.

Even worse, his furniture was cockblocking you.

Stupid star-spangled IKEA shopper.

And his hot best friend. Who’s currently smiling at you in a such a way that makes you almost abandon all comradery towards Rogers and the sanctity of his place.

You debate getting up, but resign yourself to burying your nose in the crook of Bucky’s neck and just staying there, because honestly, when are you going to have the chance to do this again. Never, that’s when.

Also, he’s surprisingly comfortable for someone with a metal arm and such a jacked-up body.

“You’re sleepy.”

“No, I’m like, super awake.”

It’s a lie, because now that the sparks have flown and the rush of blood in your ears gave way to the quietness of the early morning, you feel yourself drifting, on and off, surprising yourself when you come to once and find that Bucky is still there, warm under you.

“Sleep, doll. I need it too.”

You shift, ready to let his rhythmic breathing lull you to sleep. The last 75 sleepless hours catch up with you.

“Bucky? If you want to break into someone’s house again sometime – I have a first aid kit too. Just sayin’.”

[noteguk]

pretty in pink | kth | m

— summary; in which you try to rekindle your sex life with a devilish plan and a very sexy, very pink set of langerie. 

— contents and warnings; smut, a bit of fluff, marriage au, taehyung x reader, mischievous use of lingerie, dirty talk, dom!tae x sub!reader, pretty heavy dom/sub themes, constant use of the word “sir”, begging, Tae has a big dick, cock worship, blowjob, deepthroat, cum eating, fingering, hair pulling, a bit of praise, degradation (use of slut/cockslut), but also use of pet names (honey, love, baby, doll…), mentions of cum play, spanking, rough sex, unprotected sex, creampie, orgasm control/denial, overstimulation, impreg kink if you squint, being nasty in the name of love 

— words; 6,4k 

— author’s note; homies… this is basically one long smut scene. There are like 3 paragraphs of context. Brain empty no excuse. 

Requested by anon! Requests are currently closed. 

By the time that Taehyung got home, you had pretty much forgotten you had a plan in the first place.

He removed his shoes after closing the door behind him, his coat hanging over his forearm and an expression of exhaustion plastered all over his face. “Hi, honey,” he called, only slightly aware of your silhouette coming out of the kitchen and into the living room. “How was your day?” 

Now, you see, your day had two main parts. The first (the usual one), was the part that started as soon as your husband left home for work, and you made your unceremonious walk towards the kitchen table, where you proceeded to work yourself. A few years back, you had managed to score an amazing job in the tech industry which allowed you to work mostly from home, and get a great salary while you’re at it — one downside, though, was that things started to get a bit lonely as your husband’s hours increased. 

You knew that Taehyung wasn’t doing it on purpose: he was working hard for a promotion, one that could considerably improve your living situation, and you wouldn’t shoot his plans down like that. But it was a bit disheartening to see him leaving so early and getting home so late, sometimes only after you had already gone to bed. And, besides the emotional void growing inside of you, there was also the sexual one you needed to take care of. 

Which leads you to the second part of your day. The scheming one. 

You and Taehyung used to have an extremely active sex life, practically fucking like rabbits throughout your dating, engagement, and marriage phases. But now things had started to cool down — really, no one’s fault: Taehyung was too tired most days and you felt too moody — and you had started to grow a bit desperate. It wasn’t as if the two of you never had sex anymore, it was just mostly a very vanilla, very boring, once-every-weekend-maybe kind of thing. 

All that being said, it’s understandable why you had started to construct a plan to rekindle that old, dying-out flame of yours. You didn’t want to do anything crazy — regardless of how interesting the idea of handcuffing your husband was, you didn’t think the best approach would be to scare him away from the get-go — so you eventually settled for a few things he particularly liked from back in the dating days. 

(You felt so old thinking that.)  

Number one: baby pink lingerie, the lacy kind. You didn’t know what kind of intense reaction it unleashed in your husband’s primal brain, but you knew that those were his favorites, and that Taehyung never stopped until he could take them off you. For that special occasion, you had even gone out and bought yourself a new set, matched with some semi-transparent thigh high socks that you also knew he loved. Cover all that up with a loose satin robe (the same color, of course), and you were ready to go. 

Number two: a healthy amount of roleplay, matched with absolute submission from your part. Now, that’s where the money was: even if, by some curse placed on him by working countless hours in a corporate, hyper-capitalist job, Taehyung didn’t react to your very sexy, very skimpy set of new lingerie, you knew that would get a reaction out of him. It was exactly the dynamic the two of you liked the most, and you still remembered exactly how to push his buttons. 

It was a perfect plan. 

Only, you forgot about it. 

“It was fine, finally finished coding that page after a bazillion years,” you responded, placing your mug on the coffee table before throwing yourself on the couch. The signs of old age were approaching: your back hurt so much that you could only think about sleeping for the next ten hours. “And yours?” 

Taehyung hadn’t really looked at you yet, instead fighting to hang his coat next to the door. “It was good, actually. My boss told me he has some good news to tell me tomorrow.” 

Your eyes lit up. “You’re getting that promotion?” 

He sighed. “Maybe, I don’t know. I don’t wanna get any expectations, you know my boss. Maybe he’ll just give me a new stapl— What the hell do you have on?” 

You paused, looking down at yourself. Oh. Yeah. You had forgotten about that. Or, rather, you forgot about the second part of your plan — because your very pink, very exposed underwear was staring you right in the face. 

Still, you managed to keep yourself composed. “It’s new, do you like it?” You smiled, pulling your satin robe to the side. It exposed your breasts, made Taehyung clench his jaw at the sight. You needed to snap into submissive mode soon enough if you wanted that to work, but you also needed a few seconds to center yourself. “Baby?” 

You watched as your husband blinked his way back into reality, taking a hesitant step towards you. You wanted to laugh: Taehyung was looking at you like there was a tiger in his living room, and he was trying to find out the best possible approach to deal with it. 

And that was the perfect time to strike. 

You pouted, hand slithering down to the level of your waist so you could untie the loose knot of the robe. “You don’t like it, sir?” The innocent inflection of your voice made his eyes snap up at yours, something dark starting to swim on the bottom of his irises. He was catching the drift. “I bought it just for you.” The robe was pushed to the side, presenting him with the glorious view of your panties; those socks that made him want to bury his face between your thighs. Taehyung took another step in your direction. “If you want, I can change into something else.” 

Just like magic, Taehyung’s expression of exhaustion had been casted away, replaced by one of sheer, unshakable lust. Your breath almost got stuck in your throat as he placed his hands inside the pockets of his pants and took a few silent steps towards the couch. “Don’t change it,” he spoke up. His voice was deep and velvety, shot straight down to your core. “You look beautiful, love.” 

You smiled as he sat down next to you. “Thank you, sir.” 

“Of course.” Taehyung’s large hand cupped your cheek, and you leaned into his warm touch. His calm disposition was a threatening thing, it got you on edge as his gaze trailed down to your lips; your breasts; your thighs. He hummed. “Want my doll to look pretty for me.” 

“Yes, sir,” you said promptly. His eyes were back on yours in no time, thumb caressing your bottom lip. “Can you kiss me, sir?” 

His hand brushed down your face, moving onto your neck. Taehyung was thinking of what to do to you, and you were kind enough to wait. “Does my baby want a kiss?” He asked and you nodded. “Very well. Sit on my lap, love.” 

You could barely contain your excitement as you followed his order, one leg moving over his thighs so you could straddle him. Taehyung sighed in content as you sat on his erection, which only made the arousal between your legs grow. 

“My girl is beautiful, isn’t she?” He mumbled to himself, hands swiftly pulling your robe down your shoulders. A cold breeze embraced your body as the discarded piece of clothing fell somewhere on the floor. “But so, so quick to misbehave.” 

Your heartbeat quickened. “I didn’t misbehave, sir.” 

“You did, love,” Taehyung spoke slowly, as if he was talking to a child. His movements were tender when he pushed your hair away from your face, but you knew there was wickedness hiding in those still waters. “You are trying to provoke me.” 

“I’m not,” you lied. 

“You are.” His hands placed themselves on your waist, pulling your body closer to his. They were a bit firmer than before, spreading goosebumps through your skin as they slithered down your lower back, palming your ass cheeks. “You put this on because you wanted me to fuck you, baby. Don’t lie to me now.” 

Your hand started playing with his tie, eyes following the movement of your fingers so you could avoid his penetrative gaze. “Sorry, sir.” 

His finger found the underside of your chin, pushing it up. You couldn’t escape those eyes, he wouldn’t allow you to. “Why are you apologizing?” He asked calmly. His other hand was still firm on your ass, squeezing the flesh. “I’m not mad. I just find it funny.”

Your eyebrows shot up. “Funny?” You echoed. 

“Yes, doll,” Taehyung said. “Funny the lengths you go to just because you want my cock.” 

Heat exploded on your cheeks at his dirty words, your own speech getting stuck in your throat. You were in trouble, and it was exactly what you had been looking for. 

“Hm? Not gonna say anything?” He egged you on, leaning his head to the side. You wanted to touch him, to kiss him, but you knew that things would follow his own pace. “My baby’s so horny for cock she’s not gonna even answer me?” 

His words were suffocating you, earning a timid roll of your hips against his hard member. Your underwear was absolutely soaked and you could barely think straight. “I want you, sir,” was what you managed to get out. 

“I know,” Taehyung said, his tone so nonchalant, so passive. His knuckles brushed tenderly against your cheek, a sly smirk curling up on his lips. “My pretty little slut just wants to get fucked so bad, doesn’t she?” 

You nodded. “Yes.”

He hummed, the corners of his lips moving down in disapproval. “Yes…?”

“Yes, sir,” you were quick to correct yourself, hands slithering up his shoulders and behind his neck. It was electrifying how Taehyung managed to get you so worked up so quickly, his unbothered stare burning holes on your skin. You felt so small like that, and you knew he was getting high on the power play. Some things never change. “Sorry, sir.” 

“Mhm.” Taehyung didn’t grant you forgiveness so fast, instead leaning back on the couch and analyzing your demeanor. “I don’t know if you deserve my cock, though.” 

You blinked, not hesitating for a second. “I do deserve it, sir.”

He scoffed, both of his hands back on your waist. His palms were heavy and warm against your skin, and you could not hold back the thought of having his fingers moving in and out of you. No matter how many times Taehyung touched you, his hands were just so big that he got you seeing stars in no time, filling you up and reaching deep inside you in ways that your own fingers never could. “Show me, then.” His firm voice broke your reveries, digits pressing down on your naked flesh. “You can kiss me now.”

Obedient, you leaned in and trapped his mouth in yours. It was a different world when Taehyung was in that headspace — often, he would kiss you so eagerly, so hungry for more, but, now, his mouth was barely following yours; a disinterested hum melting past his throat, silently daring you to try harder, to show him that you were worth his time. You dug your fingers in his soft hair and placed your tongue inside his mouth, trying to be the best you could be for him and, yet, it seemed as if he was deadset on giving you the bare minimum reaction. 

At the same time, you still felt the effects of that kiss, your body heating up as you moaned against his mouth. Taehyung’s hands had traveled downwards and were now tugging at your panties, pulling them up and burying them between your asschecks. It made your back arch; there was a slight pressure on your clit that got you grinding down on his cock. He sighed at that, sucking on your tongue as one of his hands slithered beneath your panties, harshly groping your ass. 

You swore he was just about to get into it when he decided to pull away. Slightly breathless and completely overwhelmed, you could only watch as Taehyung tilted his head to the side and, just as nonchalant as before, asked, “What do we say, doll?”

Lucky you, you knew the answer to that question. “Thank you, sir.” 

“Very well.” He caressed your cheek once more, eyes trapped on the swell of your lips. Taehyung’s mind was flickering through the details of you — your breasts, your thighs, the perfect weight of your center against his — as he slowly figured out what he wanted to do to you. At last, he made up his mind. “On your knees.” 

To move away from his embrace seemed to be a medieval sort of torture, but you did as he told you. You were on your knees in no time, the harsh wooden floor hurting your flesh when you looked up at him, expectant. 

Taehyung leaned forward, trapping your chin between his fingers. “So pretty, aren’t you, doll?” He asked, voice velvety and slow. “Wanna be good for me?” 

You nodded, eager to please him. 

With a deep exhale, he moved back, spreading his arms over the couch’s back. “Good. Take my cock out,” he commanded. You stared up at him for a second too long, waiting to see if that was a test. It was a bit suspicious, after all: he used to tease you for far longer than that before even allowing you to touch him. And, because Taehyung knew you very well, he caught your trail of thought quickly enough. “Isn’t that what you wanted? Go on.”

“Thank you, sir,” you said, just to be sure, and took your hands to his pants. Taehyung had chosen one of his most beautiful suits to work that day, and the dark grey shade did not conceal his erection in the slightest. 

The smallest of things got you waiting for more: the sound of his pants being pulled down, apparently so loud in that silent living room; the gradual rise and fall of his chest; the wet mark on his underwear and the straining of his hard, leaking cock against the fabric. It was a good kind of anticipation, for you loved when Taehyung got you on the edge like that, unsure of what would follow, of how he would treat you. 

Truth was: you loved being good for him, loved treating him as well as you could. Above all, you loved when he praised you for it, all warm touches and kind regards. But also, you adored when he made you work for those praises, glancing down at you like you were bothering him, like you couldn’t do anything right, not even pleasure him. 

His cock was out soon after, heavy in your hands. Taehyung managed to control his demeanor rather well, but you could see that he was extremely turned on: tip reddened and covered in his precum, his length fully hard and throbbing as you gave him a small, tentative pump. 

“Spit on it,” he said. “Come on, you know better than to touch me dry.” 

You nodded, doing as he told you. A big glob of saliva dripped down onto his member, which you used to help with your movements. Saliva wasn’t lube, that’s true, but it did manage to calm down his attitude for a bit. 

Being married meant that you had grown extremely used to each other’s bodies and, just like Taehyung knew your weak spots like the back of his hand, you knew his. Soon enough, you had your tongue trailing the underside of his cock, placing a special pressure on his frenulum. Taehyung inhaled sharply, hands digging to the sofa cushions as you lethargically continued your actions, swirling your tongue around his sensitive tip and tasting his precum. 

“In your mouth,” he ordered, “now.” 

Eager to please him, your lips wrapped around his crown and you gradually began sinking down on him. Taehyung was thick, always gave you a hard time as you slowly grew used to his size inside your mouth; a strangled moan perishing in your throat as you took him in. Above you, the man groaned in satisfaction, one of his large hands resting on the back of your head. 

“Move.”

You agreed with a whimper, closing your eyes as your mouth moved up and down on his member, cheeks hollowing every time you sucked him. Taehyung got you just the way that he liked: so small beneath him, with your doll-like eyes looking up at him through a thin curtain of your tears. He always thought you looked so pretty with his cock inside your mouth, your perfect lips and tongue making him lose his mind. 

“Fuck. Such a good cockslut.” He raised his hips just enough to reach deeper inside your throat, making you gag around him. The sound was beautiful to his ears, turned into a much more heavenly symphony when it quickly morphed into a muffled moan. Taehyung loved watching you struggle with his size, it made him want to break you apart. “You like my cock, baby?” 

You nodded, but it seemed like it wasn’t enough. Taehyung tugged in your hair, signaling that he wanted you to remove your mouth from him. He needed to hear you say it, and you were beyond happy to oblige. “I love it, sir,” you told him, your voice a bit groggy from your previous act. “So much. It’s so huge.” 

“Suck it harder, then.” His own voice was a bit airy, not so rough around the edges. He must’ve been close. “Show me how much you love it.” 

This time, just a simple nod from your part satisfied him, for he allowed your mouth to wrap around his cock once again. Without hesitation, you did as he told you to, sucking his cock harder, taking it deeper than you were before. Your new approach was a gift from god, it appeared, because it took you no time to have Taehyung’s animosity meeting away. 

“That’s it, that’s my dirty girl,” he praised, fingers intertwined in your hair. You could feel his big cock throbbing inside your mouth, releasing precum. It was just a matter of time before he spilled himself inside your mouth. “Gonna make me cum like a good slut.” 

You moaned around him, one hand moving down to play with his balls. Taehyung hissed at the sensation, throwing his head back and groaning something you couldn’t quite grasp. There were beautiful droplets of sweat accumulating just above his white collar — it was almost humiliating how naked you felt when compared to his dressed, composed self — and this thick neck seemed to be calling for you, wishing that you’d place hot, messy kisses all over it. But you couldn’t do it just yet, not when he was about to cum down your throat. 

Taehyung’s breath hitched and you instantly knew that he was just there. A couple more seconds and your theory was proven right: he grunted as his hot cum filled your mouth, a vague rising of his hips making his tip hit the back of your throat. “Fuck,” he cursed. “Don’t swallow yet.”

Oh he was in that mood, it seemed. 

Apparently your plan had worked better than expected, because it had been a long time since Taehyung didn’t ask you to swallow his cum right away. As much as he adored when you did that, he also loved seeing his cum on you — splattered on your abdomen, on your tits, on your ass; maybe running between your pussy lips after he was done fucking you or, in that case, in your mouth. You didn’t quite understand the appeal that it had, but who were you to judge? 

You removed his cock from your mouth soon after, filled with expectation as he shifted above you, leaning in closer. You blinked up at him as his hand found the underside of your jaw. 

“Let me see.” Taehyung pulled on your chin and you quickly got your cue, opening your mouth. A flash of lust shimmered inside his eyes at the sight of his cum inside your mouth, the corner of his lips being tugged upwards into a satisfied smirk. “Perfect. Swallow now.” He closed your mouth. 

Once again, you did as he commanded. “Thank you, sir,” you said. The discomfort between your legs was growing at a fast progression, monopolizing your mind — you had already been so good to your husband, did everything that he told you to, and now your own arousal was getting the best of you. You shifted around on the ground, your knees still hurting a bit. “Sir, please…”

Taehyung hummed, caressing your cheek. “What is it?” 

“I'm so horny, I wanna cum,” you whined. 

“Is that so?” Taehyung questioned, thumb caressing your bottom lip. It was a bit swollen after you had blown him, made him want to bite it. Instead, he leaned back against the couch. “Stand up.” 

You fumbled as you got up to your feet, unsure of what to do next. Luckily, you didn’t have to think about it for long, because Taehyung soon gripped you by the hips and pulled you closer to him, your shins knocking on the sofa. His fingers were surprisingly tender as they slowly navigated towards your pussy, pulling the dainty pink fabric aside. “Love the color,” he mumbled as if he was talking to himself. You were just about to thank him, but your words were ripped out of you when his finger sunk between your folds. “Look at my girl. Got this wet just by sucking my cock, baby?” He looked up at you. You felt dizzy under his intense gaze, barely nodding in return. He smiled. “How dirty.” 

You wanted to touch him, to find support on his broad shoulders, but you didn’t know if you were allowed to. Instead, you merely gasped as Taehyung started toying with your sensitive entrance, feeling as if your legs would fail you at any time. “Sir, please,” you pleaded once more, “I need you.” 

He hummed, one finger slowly entering you. You practically melted as Taehyung added a second one right away, curling them up in the way you loved so much. “Yes, darling, I heard you.” But it didn’t seem like he did, for his hungry gaze was trapped on the sinking of his digits inside your tight hole. You were so on edge that you could cum just like that; a few desperate whimpers already dripping from your lips as he continued his movements. Your sounds seemed to drag him back to reality, though, for he was soon removing them from your pussy, ignoring your frustrated cries. “Go to the bedroom.” His eyes snapped up at you. “You better be naked in bed when I get there.”

“Y-Yes, sir.”

If you didn’t know Taehyung as well as you did, perhaps that command would’ve taken the worries off your shoulders. However, the thing was: when your husband was in that headspace, you could never really predict what would come from it. Just because he had sent you to the bedroom, it didn’t mean that he would suddenly become pliant and adamant to fulfill your every need — if anything, it meant that he had enough energy and discipline to spare. If he wanted to fuck you straight away (like you had begged him to), he would’ve just taken you on the couch, like he had done countless times before. No, the fact that he was sending you — alone — to the bedroom was probably not such a good sign. 

When you entered the suite, you started removing your bra, then your panties and, finally, the thigh high socks. You felt yourself become more and more uneasy as you laid down bare on the bed, feeling as small shock waves of anticipation ran through your body. Every time you heard a noise coming from somewhere else in the apartment, your heart missed a beat. 

Taehyung liked to make those moments as dragged-out as possible. He got some sick kick out of it, you guessed, probably made him feel like a predator stalking its prey, playing with its food. He liked to leave you wondering what he would do to you, and you couldn’t say you were bothered by it either. 

At last, when you thought that your heart was about to jump out of your chest, he walked into the bedroom, his slender fingers loosening his silk tie. It was a stark contrast how dressed Taehyung still was — everything still in place, with only the zipper of his pants still opened. He looked absolutely composed, his dark eyes following the curves of your body as he gradually approached you. 

“Beautiful,” he complimented, sitting down next to you. The bed dipped under his weight, making your breasts bounce slightly. His gaze fell over them and he hummed, one hand tenderly squeezing the flesh. You gasped at the sensation, which ripped a small chuckle out of him. “And so sensitive.” 

You didn’t know if it was the best moment to speak up, so you didn’t. Instead, you waited as Taehyung’s hand gradually made its way up your chest, towards your neck and, finally, to your cheek. There, it stayed for a moment, his thumb caressing your bottom lip. He really enjoyed doing that, it seemed. “Open up for me,” he requested. And so you did, lips parting so two of his fingers could enter your mouth. Taehyung pressed down on your tongue, making you release a small whimper, before allowing you to suck on his fingers. “That’s it. What do we say?”

“Thank you, sir,” you struggled to speak against his fingers. 

“That’s right.” Taehyung removed his digits from your mouth, lowering them until they were pressed against your clit. You moaned and raised your hips under the random surge of pleasure, but his other hand soon met the skin of your inner thigh, making you stand still. “Shhh, shhh,” he shushed you, “don’t move now.” 

Your breath caught in your throat as he slowly slid between your folds. The pressure was light, barely teasing your sensitive entrance before going back up to play with your clit. 

“So fucking soaked for me, doll,” Taehyung groaned, tracing small circles on your sensitive spot. Your eyes fluttered shut and your mouth opened a little, allowing a small sob to fall from it. “Such an eager little pussy.”

“S-Sir,” you gasped, fingers digging to the pristine white sheets of your bed. You had just changed them, and now they were bearing witness to your sinful acts. “I want you.”

Taehyung hummed, apparently distracted with the sensation of your slickness covering him. “You have me, darling.” 

“N-Not your fingers,” you said. “Want your cock, please.”

The moment he stopped his movements, you realized you had fucked up. Taehyung made a clicking sound with his tongue that shot straight through your chest, quickening your heartbeat. “You’re so spoiled.” He removed his hand from your heat and you didn’t even find the force within you to complain about it. Not when he was looking at you with such a mixture of disappointment and frustration. “You tell me you want to cum, and then that my fingers aren’t good enough for you?”

“Sorry, sir,” you rushed to say, a frail veil of tears shimmering in your eyes. You felt like you had been edged for hours, even if that wasn’t the case. The sexual tension was just too high, leaving you so worked up that it hurt. And there was also an extra level of desperation knowing that your release wasn't exactly your decision at that moment. “Please, I need it so bad.” 

Taehyung scrutinized your face for a moment, watching the quick beating of your eyelashes and the thin layer of sweat that covered your skin. He felt a familiar sense of power washing over him, watching intently for every sign of pleading eagerness that covered your features. You looked so beautiful, he thought, so meek and polite under him. You had been so good, after all, there was no need to postpone your pain any further. 

But he would. For just a tiny bit longer. 

Taehyung breathed out. “You’re lucky I’m feeling nice. Turn around.” He slapped the inside of your thigh, a smirk blossoming at the corners of his pink lips as he watched you yelp in surprise. Still, you obeyed him once again, turning until you were on your stomach. “Hands and knees. Ass up. And don’t look behind you.” 

After you had positioned yourself, Taehyung started undressing. You could only hear the shuffling of his clothes as he gradually removed them — taking his sweet time as his eyes lingered on your form. He could see that you were still so absolutely soaked for him, the glistening of your pussy making his cock throb inside his underwear. He would tease you a bit further if he, himself, had it in him to wait a bit longer. However, at that moment, there was nothing that Taehyung wanted more than to be buried deep inside your cunt. 

You bounced up and down on the bed as he kneeled on it, hands on your hips tugging you towards him. You whined when you felt the pressure of his hard cock between your ass cheeks, your pussy clenching around nothing. Still, you waited for him to make the first move, since your latest attempt at asking for more had earned you a scolding from his part. 

And, apparently, not only that. All air ran out of your lungs when you felt Taehyung’s hand collapsing against the skin of your ass once, twice, until you were crying out. “Sir, wait—“ 

“Quiet,” he reprimanded. “You’re always misbehaving. Can you take your punishment now? Or are you going to keep complaining?”

That was his way of asking for your consent to keep going, you realized, and you promptly gave it to him. “Y-Yes, sir.” 

Another slap against your ass was what you recieved, this time on the other side. Taehyung’s palm was heavy on your skin, and you relished in the pain it left behind; your hands holding onto the pillows for any sort of grounding. “Good. Maybe this will teach you not to be so fucking spoiled,” he growled, hitting you once more. Your body jumped forwards a bit, legs weak beneath you. “Stand still.”

You tried your best to do so, enduring a few more spanks until Taehyung had deemed it sufficient. If you had been wet before, now you were completely drenched, every nerve on your body standing alert to the smallest of touches. So much in fact that, when he leaned in to place a kiss against your shoulder, you cried out at the feeling of his cock moving between your ass cheeks.

“Pretty.” His hand caressed the sensitive skin where he had hit you before. You flinched under his touch, but liked the stinging pain that came along with it. “Gonna fuck you now, love.” 

You could’ve sobbed in relief. “Yes, yes, please, sir.” 

Taehyung leaned back slowly, one hand curling around the base of his cock so he could guide himself inside you. His crown slid between your folds once, twice, making you whimper as it accidentally hit your clit. The sounds of your wetness were shameful, filling the room as he pressed himself against your opening. You sighed and whimpered at the feeling, for a moment thinking that your thighs would give out beneath you. Instead, Taehyung held you up as his cock gradually plunged inside you, stretching you wide. 

There hadn’t been as much preparation as you’d like, but the small rush of pain was a welcomed one. You moaned out his name as his big cock continued to sink inside you, feeling every inch of it as it filled you up. Taehyung was fucking huge and, even after so long by his side, you had never truly grown used to it. 

You gasped when he entered you completely, his hands giving a last pull on your hips to make sure that he couldn’t go any deeper. “S-So much,” you stuttered. 

He scoffed. “Isn’t this what you wanted? Now fucking take it.” Taehyung angled his hips back, sliding his cock out of your heat until only his tip was inside. He came slamming back in, sinking into your velvety walls like they were made for him to fuck. “Pussy’s so fucking tight, it’s just pulling me in. Dripping down my cock, fuck.” 

And you could only moan out at his filthy words, brain turning into a chaotic mess as he started drilling in and out of you. At that point, you had been so worked up that you could only focus on the amazing sensation of his cock fucking you open, so big and heavy inside you. 

From what you could hear, Taehyung wasn’t much different. His controlling attitude had started to wash away as his high started to approach; the room filled with the low grunts and moans that came from his throat. He was holding onto you so tightly that you thought he was going to break you in half, his thrusts deep, fast and precise. Really, it was shameful how close you already were, walls tightening around his length as your legs started to shake. 

“S-So good, sir, your cock feels so good,” you moaned out, lost in bliss. “I’m c-close.” 

“Cum all over my cock, baby,” Taehyung grunted. “Come on, be good for me.”

You nodded, clenching your jaw as you felt your pleasure rising at a thundering speed. Taehyung wasn’t planning on slowing down either, his cock hitting deep inside your pussy and making your eyes roll back. 

“Fuck, oh my—“ you cursed out, but could not finish your sentence. Your orgasm washed over you like an avalanche, whitening out your thoughts as your walls clenched around him; loud moans and whimpers of his name falling in a jumbled mess between your lips. “T-Tae…” 

The lack of his preferred title seemed to be lost on him, since Taehyung was also approaching his own climax. “So fucking wet. So tight and warm for me. Perfect little cunt,” he was talking to himself at this point, letting his thoughts flow out of his mouth with no apparent direction. “Wanna cum inside your pussy, doll. Fill you up so good.” 

You whined out at his words. You were still holding onto the pillows, trying to find any sort of foundation to fight against the sensitivity that was growing inside you. “P-Please, yes.” 

Taehyung growled at your words, pushing his body forward until he was squeezing you against the bed. The new angle made his cock hit different spots inside your cunt, a newfound wave of euphoria starting to buzz inside you. “Want that?” His voice was a rough moan against your ear, his breath kissing your skin in dense, hot clouds. “Gonna take my cum like a good slut?”

“Yes, sir,” you said, “I want it so bad.”

“Yeah? Wanna give you a baby, gonna look so fucking pretty for me.” Taehyung’s words hit you like a ton of bricks, making you clench around his cock. You had never realized that you wanted him to say that, especially in a context like that, but it made you melt instantly. And because he knew you so well, he rapidly noticed the way your body responded to it. “You like that?” 

You nodded. “Y-Yes.” 

“God, you’re so fucking hot,” he moaned, placing a sloppy kiss against your neck. You could feel Taehyung throbbing inside you, signaling that he was close. “So fucking perfect. I love you so much.” 

“L-Love you too,” you said back. 

Taehyung sighed at your words, a last moan reverberating in his chest before he was spilling himself inside of you. “Fuck, baby,” he groaned at the feeling, getting utterly lost in the way that your walls milked his cock clean, taking everything that he gave you. “Fuck, that’s it.” 

With a final, shuddering breath, Taehyung collapsed against you, placing a bunch of kisses on your shoulders. You giggled at the random softness of his actions, feeling as his cock slipped out of you. He rolled around until he was falling backwards on the bed, a final puff of air exploding upon his lips. 

“Well, damn.” Taehyung laughed. You could only do the same, pushing your body closer to his. “Why don’t we do this more often?”

You rested your head on his chest. “Because adult life fucking sucks, that’s why.” 

“Fair enough.” He sighed. One of his arms wrapped around your waist and he pulled you close, kissing the top of your head. A fond smile curled up on your lips. “Was I too rough?”

“Just a bit, but I liked it.” You angled your head up to look at him. Taehyung took his cue to kiss your lips instead. “Can you get something to clean me up?”

He clicked his tongue. “I’m feeling pretty lazy right now. Besides…” he trailed off, “Kinda like you like this.”

You rolled your eyes, but the teasing nature of your tone gave your faux-annoyance away. “I figured,” you said. “Wanna talk about the baby situation?” 

Taehyung’s face swiftly grew serious. He apparently discovered a new source of energy, because, within a second, he was pushing you off and bolting out of bed. “Suddenly I need to find a towel.” 

And you could only laugh because, as it has been proven, you were kind of a mastermind when it came to making evil plans. If Taehyung needed another one to get him talking, you wouldn’t mind elaborating it. 

You wouldn’t mind at all. 

[kodzukyan]

better with you (until it kills me)

notes: it's always missing baji hours here </3 fluff, angst; alternative ending: always, always you

summary: four times you think you are in love with baji keisuke, and the one time you tell him.

wc: 3.7k

You're reasonably sure the only reason he chooses you to pair up with for the Japanese literature project is that you sit next to him, but it surprises you all the same. You don't think you have much of a presence in class, but you don't think you can say the same about your new partner, Baji Keisuke.

His slicked-back ponytail and thick frames make his presence seem like a poindexter, but there's something about his bruised knuckles and his fierce aura that makes him feel ferocious. You've noticed him hang out with the school delinquent on multiple occasions. You also think you've seen him laugh wildly as he beats up some of the local thugs who crowded around the said delinquent he's friends with.

He isn't who you expect him to be at first glance, and that intrigues you more than you like to admit. You're too nervous to openly ask, so you settle for stealing glances at him from the corner of your eyes.

So, when he really decides on you and submits the partner form, you don't know what to think.

In the time that you two are partners, you've discovered a couple of things about him. First, his handwriting and kanji absolutely suck. Despite that, he writes a letter addressed to someone named Kazutora every week without fail. As if that isn't endearing enough, it gets even more so when he pouts at the complex characters that he often gets wrong and the inevitable smile that breaks out whenever you show him how to write them correctly.

("Oh, thanks! I would probably fail my kanji tests without you and Chifuyu. Kazutora probably can't even understand what I'm saying," he laughs rambunctiously.)

Second, he's genuinely an unexpectedly good partner in terms of being punctual about meeting up. However, despite being on time, there is little progress on the project. Your work times often end up in discussions about random life topics rather than the project itself.

(“Do you like cats?” he asks out of the blue one day, head on the table and books already forgotten.

“Uh, yeah, I guess so,” you humor him because you’re also tired of researching Japanese literature.

“Wanna see my cats? They’re all strays,” he sits up suddenly, eyes lit and smile bright.

You nod, and he proceeds to take out his phone to show you pictures of his cats. You note his lock-screen is a picture of all his cats, and his camera roll is just full of his friends and mom, motorcycles, and the said cats. With shining eyes full of excitement, he tells you their names and their personalities in detail.

"Do you think cats recognize their names but choose to ignore us whenever we call them?" he resumes the conversation after he finishes showing you his gallery. He leans back as he balances his pencil on top of his pursed lips.

"Maybe. Depends on the cat? Maybe they just hate you?" you mimic his pose. You suppose thirty minutes of work is enough progress for the day.

"Ouch," he grimaces as if it shatters him directly in the heart.)

Third, sometimes he comes with his hair down and without his glances, with stains on his clothes that he claims are ketchup, despite it not smelling like that at all.

("Uh, hey, sorry I'm late today," he offers sheepishly as he runs a hand through his unbound hair.

"Oh, it's okay," you finally say after you take in his shaggy appearance. You try not to think about how handsome he is despite the bruises forming on his face. "Are you… okay?"

"All good! The ketchup bottle just randomly exploded," he laughs nervously and awkwardly. "Anyways!! The project!!"

You stare at him dubiously but nod anyway. "Okay, if you say so…")

Fourth, he has an extremely charming smile, especially when his fangs are in full display. To some, it may look fierce and menacing; to you, it looks cute, especially when his eyes are always brimming with life and his laugh is full of vitality.

More often than not you catch yourself staring at him because he's just so intriguing.

You try to ignore your racing heart when your stolen glances become shared ones, and he flashes you a grin softer than the smiles you've seen.

-----

“Uh, hi.” You say shyly as you enter through Baji’s window. It’s not frequently you seek out Baji at his own home, especially through the window he keeps open almost exclusively for stray cats to seek shelter.

“What the fuck?” Baji drops the stray cat he's cuddling as you give a slight wave, causing the cat to meow loudly at the sudden change in demeanor.

“Sorry to drop by unannounced. I, uh, just wanted some company.”

You feel vanishingly small as you awkwardly laugh and piece together some words that make sense. Home is supposed to be full of warmth, but your home is more of a house with people than a home with love. It’s a truth you’ve long accepted, but some days, it feels a little extra cold.

Therefore, you run, and somehow you end up here, in the comforts of Baji’s room.

Maybe you are currently a stray cat, feeling a little more lost than found. Maybe you find that he’s the sort of comfort that warms you a little when your heart feels heavy. Maybe you are just a little bit in like with him, and he is the first person you want to see whenever you’re feeling down.

The room is silent aside from the soft paps of cats moving around and the periodic meow. Then, he pats the spot next to him, and you make your way there. As soon as you sit down, he hands you a cat.

“Here, hold her. She’s nice,” he comments as he places the calico cat he dropped earlier in your lap, petting her as she adjusts to her new position on you.

She narrows her eyes and softly purrs in your lap as Baji pets her, and this makes you feel more in the moment than in your head like you’ve been. Your initial baffle turns into a smile as she purrs louder when you pet her, and just like that, you feel a little more found than lost.

You lean on his shoulder as you continue petting the calico cat in your lap. You keep your eyes on her as she climbs onto his lap and nuzzles him in an attempt to hide your burning cheeks and your drumming heart from your proximity.

“Thanks for giving me a home when I don’t want to be in my own,” you tell him softly, airly, almost as if you’re letting him in on a secret.

He stops playing with the cats for a moment and pauses. Feeling his intense stare, you peek through your lashes up at him. His broad grin and sharp canines are in full display, and his smile looks a little more boyish than wild. He tousles your hair as he laughs aloud boisterously before he props his head on top of yours.

“You’ll always have a home here.”

-----

It all started when a group of thugs looked at you inappropriately and made some comments that made you uncomfortable. You grip the ends of his sleeve just a little harder and press yourself behind him, trying to make yourself impossibly small. Baji, seeing your small form and downcast eyes, removes your hand from his sleeve and places it in his hand. Knowing Baji and him knowing you and your every mood, he does not stand for it. He simply flashes you a reassuring grin before he squeezes your hand and runs straight at them.

He throws the first punch, and you could just stand there in shock as he pummels through them and beats them up. He has cuts and bruises everywhere, and you’re certain he’s taken on a few nasty hits on his ribs. Though you’re equally confident that these thugs are absolutely 100% in worse shape than he is.

“Oh my god,” you sob frantically as Baji wobbles back to you, ferocious smile on his face softens as he sees you. He pats your head when he notes your teary eyes. You’re not even sure when you start crying, but the tears just don’t seem to stop. “Are you okay? Oh my god, I’m so sorry. Are you -”

He clutches your tear-stained face in his hands, “Look at me.”

Your eyes meet his, but you can barely see him over your tears as you continue your incoherent rambling.

“Hey,” he tries once more, voice more frantic as he struggles to find words. He finally just squishes your cheeks and yells, “Do you think I care about anything else but you right now?”

Your eyes widen, and the tears forming fall freely onto his hands. Oh, oh, oh, you think to yourself as your beating heart rapidly thumps at an exponential speed, maybe he’s also falling. When you meet his steady gray eyes, the shocking realization that maybe you’re not the only one dumb and possibly in love stops your tears.

He sighs in relief when your tears gradually stop, and as if all the tiredness accumulated in his body hit him all at once, he falls down onto the ground.

You try to catch him as best as you can, and with the combined effort of mostly himself and partially you, he breaks his fall. He lays sprawled out on the ground. After you check for wounds and find none too serious, you sit with your knees tucked under you by where he lays and moves his head onto your lap.

All around you are the battered bodies of the thugs you’ve encountered, but all you can see at the moment is him and his gray eyes that disappear into crescent moons as he flashes you a grin. He’s too tired to move, but he raises a fist up into the air in victory anyway.

“I got you.”

-----

"Wanna go on a ride?" he texts you.

It’s almost midnight when he texts you, and it’s probably way past when you should stay up. But your heart flutters at the thought of adventure, at the thought of him, so you quickly respond, “Okay, but be quiet! Don't wake my parents up again, stinky!!!”

You can already imagine his sheepish smile when he sends you a "that was once!!! my bad" back.

After sending him a quick ":p", you silently put on some clothes more fitting to go out than your pajamas. The sound of his motorcycle announces his greater-than-life presence long before his text does. Grabbing two scrunchies, you sneak out your window.

He only greets you with a goofy smile and a wave, hair free-flowing in the wind. Under the moonlight, his gray eyes twinkle with vigor and youth. It knocks the air out of your lungs as you glance at him because he's beautiful, ethereal, and alive. He smiles smugly when he catches your stare, but he holds his hand out for you to take.

"Hi," you whisper under the twinkling stars as you put your hand in his.

"Hey," he whispers back as he curls his fingers around your hand before adjusting to interlace your fingers together.

The quietness and intimacy of this moment drown out the world - the sound of cars driving by, of cicadas flying, of the world standing still. The only thing keeping you from floating is his hand and the sound of your heartbeat.

"I got you a hair tie." You offer softly with an equally soft smile, eyes pointing to the scrunchies on your wrist.

"I got you a hoodie," he responds as he nods to his motorcycle. "Because I knew your dumb ass would, once again, forget to dress for the winds."

"I'm dressed decently enough. You, though… please tie your hair… It hurts like hell when it whips in my face," you laugh lightly.

He rolls his eyes. "That's also what you said last time before you ended up stealing my hoodie, and I ended up being cold!" he complains, but there's a certain fondness in his voice.

You only stick your tongue out childishly at him. You would rather bite your tongue than admit that you are always slightly underdressed for the occasion so he would keep giving you his hoodies.

He tugs your interlaced hand and pulls you closer, and as you stand so close to him, you think close isn't quite close enough. The two of you linger in that position for longer than what should be appropriate for friends, but you think you have been tiptoeing around that line for a while now. Your heart races, and you're sure your erratic heart is beating fast enough to generate heat to keep you warm against the cold winds.

He pulls away first, moving to grab his hoodie before he roughly puts it on you. He laughs when you complain about your ruffled hair, but as his hoodie and scent engulf you, you could only shyly smile. He takes a scrunchie despite complaining about how poofy it is. As he settles in his bike and you settle in behind him, arms tight around his waist, you think this is probably what holding the universe in your arms feels like.

He rives his bike loudly despite your warning, but you find that you could care less right now as he takes off. You are young and dumb, but the wind is running through your hair as the two of you are chasing the moon, and it makes you feel so alive. Neon lights and starlit skies blur together as he speeds through familiar roads, and the brisk winds drown out your loud laughter. It feels like you're feeling everything at once, but your head is so clear.

You think you can understand why he loves riding so much because the only thing that you can hear is your loud heartbeat, and the only thing that matters is you're living.

He finally stops at a local 24-hour diner. The moonlight shines through the window by your table. You are still feeling the wild wind in your hair, cold air on your face, and the warmth of Baji’s back on your arms. It's way past midnight now, and the yellow lights of the diner feel a little more homey than dingy. He’s munching on some fries, occasionally waving one in your face whenever he’s trying to make a point about something. As you watch the various expressions on his face, a smile makes its way to your face.

“Hey Keisuke,” you grab a fry and jab it at him in the middle of his sentence. He stops his mid-word as he stares at you, head tilting slightly and mouth still gaping. There is a particular word that you keep thinking of whenever you think of Baji, a feeling that lingers and fills your heart up. You know what it is. You think you know at least, and in moments like these when you’re just watching his goofy self munching on fries while boisterously laughing at something dumb, all you can think of is those four letters.

“You’re my best friend,” you whisper before you eat your fry. Best friend, you think, encompasses a lot of things and feelings as you stare at his childlike grin, heart fluttering and mind blanking because all you see is him. You hope he knows, hope he gets that best friend is a loose term because he is so much more.

When he meets your eyes and his gray eyes crinkle in mirth and laughter rolls off his lips, you think he does.

“I know,” he smugly nods before he drops another fry into his mouth. “I guess you’re pretty cool too.”

You stick your tongue out at him and feel a warmth in your heart that matches the pinks of his cheeks. Maybe it’s adrenaline still in your blood, maybe it’s the moment, but it makes you devious, brave even, as you lean over and chomp down on the fry he's holding.

He stares at you with his mouth wide open, looking absolutely flabbergasted and offended. “Hello? That was my last fry!”

“Sorry,” you giggle, not feeling all that sorry at all. You know he’s not truly that offended because he has that stupid grin on his face, because he’s always soft with you. A part of you does feel a little sorry when you see the small pout that arises on his face. “I’ll treat you to yakisoba later?”

He turns away from you, face still slightly sulky as he huffs silently.

“No? You don’t want yakisoba?” you ask. You still find it amusing that Baji Keisuke, the first division captain of the Toman Gang who would punch someone on the streets for no reason other than just because he feels like it, is pouting because you stole his last fry. If anyone from any rival gangs sees Baji Keisuke now, they probably wouldn’t believe this is the same person.

“Fine,” he huffs softly, “But don’t think one yakisoba is enough.”

“Then,” you begin, your heart pounding loudly in your chest as you work up the courage, “What about this?”

He turns to you in confusion, and before your courage runs out on you, you crash your lips onto his before you pull away.

“Repayment,” you mutter meekly, eyes avoiding his because you’re sure he can feel the heat radiating off your cheeks from where he’s sitting.

“Hey,” he tugs on your hand under the table. When you finally look at him, he continues, “Just one isn’t enough.”

He kisses you again.

-----

Home is supposed to be the place you come from, but you think it's more like a place you find, pieced together from scattered bits of feelings, emotions, people along the way. Somewhere along the lines, home becomes less of a place and more of a person. Your home becomes the boy with the sharp canines and long hair that gets tangled by the stray cats he keeps, the "I love you" declared loudly with kisses and the longing looks in between, the comfortable warmth of his body next to yours as you chase sunsets and live in your own infinity. Your home is Baji Keisuke and the constant image of him in your mind and the infinite pieces of him in your heart.

Infinity, though, is awfully short, you think, as you see him lay surrounded by bouquets, eyes closed in eternal slumber. He's always looked good in white, but when his tan complexion is nearly as pale as the white roses surrounding him, you think white is an awful color on him. His eyes always shine with possibilities and promises, and while you've always joked that his sleeping face is cute because he always looks so innocent, adorable even, all you want now is to see him awake.

His heroism and love for his friends are always something that you love about him, but in turn, it feels so incredibly cruel to you now. For as short as he has been in your life, he becomes pieces embedded so deeply in it that it makes you whole. You cannot imagine a world where there is no Baij, where he isn’t there to punch a hooligan on the streets or feed stray cats at night or hold you when your world is crashing. You cannot imagine a life where he isn’t here to shine a bright light in your life without his laughter and goofy personality. Suddenly the world blurs around you, and you can't breathe as droplets of water hit your clenched hands on your lap.

You hold his hands. Cold, cold, cold, when they used to be warm enough to light a fire in you. There are so many things you want to tell him, say to him, but the speech you prepare in your head drowns in silence as your voice gives out on you. All the words in your head just come out as broken sobs. You feel the sympathetic and equally broken glance of his mom as she embraces you, but all you can think about is that he won’t open his eyes.

Baji Keisuke has always been bigger than life, you think, because he becomes a part of everything in your life. There are traces of him everywhere - him with his cats on your lock-screen, the random memes he sends you at night, the little notes he leaves you written in his ugly penmanship with love. When you think of these things, you feel like your heart is breaking all over again.

People tell you to be strong, and while you want to retort because how can you when he’s gone?, you find that you cannot say a word without crying. You’re tired of crying too because your eyes are already so, so raw, but it seems like all you can do is cry. When you think you've finally run out of tears and your tears finally stop, a new batch takes over even at the slightest things that remind you of him. You feel so pathetic because you can't do anything without water leaking from your eyes, and you hate yourself for being so weak.

You tune out the somber tone of his friends and the broken tone of his mom because you don't want to accept a reality where he isn't here. But luck is never on your side because he never opens his eyes again, and you never get to tell him how much you love him. All you get are flashbacks and memories of him and emptiness in your heart and soul. You tell yourself you have to be strong and smile and live for the both of you, but you can't. Not when he isn't here, not when he isn't with you anymore. Every time you think about that fact, your heart breaks again.

"Hey, stupid," your broken sobs ring loudly in the deafening silence, "I love you."

The words you’ve wanted to tell him for so long are finally in the open, but there is no answer.

[idy-ll-ique]

Paparazzi.

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x F!Reader

Genre: Fluff, Angst

Warnings: TOO META, m*sturbation, mentions of s*x

Requested: nope

Summary: I'm your biggest fan, I'll follow you until you love me... Y/N Y/L/N writes Marvel fanfictions. One day, Sebastian stumbles upon her account and, unable to help himself, reads all the stuff she has written about him. He didn't mean to fall so hard for her but he does. How can he not? She has shown him parts of himself that he never even knew existed.

Author's Note: Hiya peeps! Okay so a few weeks ago I read a similar (but dark) fanfic and I really wanted to write a softer version of it... Enjoy!

---

Same old, boring routine.

Y/N hit post and slumped against the headrest of her bed, sighing. She waited; a minute, then two passed and she noticed that someone had liked her post. She smiled to herself as she kept her phone away. Though boring, she wouldn't trade her life for the world. Y/N… well, she was a university student first and foremost but she was also a writer.

Being a big fan of the Marvel Cinematic Universe, she had started writing fanfictions a few years ago. She posted them on Tumblr, where her blog, though not very well-known, stood out enough for her posts to get around 800-1000 likes per post. She loved it; she loved writing, she loved posting her stories and especially, she loved the feedback.

Sometimes people were rude, but most times, the reviews she got were fantastic. She read each and every one of them, smiling goofily as people freaked out over her fanfictions. It warmed her heart. A smile automatically blooming on her face, Y/N lay down on the bed and decided to go to sleep, it being almost 3 am.

Unbeknownst to her, someone else was up at the same time, tossing and turning in his bed, restless.

Sebastian sighed as he sat up, running a hand through his hair. He drank some water and lay down again, closing his eyes but it was like sleep was mad at him. Refused to be anywhere near him. He groaned to himself and picked up his phone from the nightstand, deciding to go through Instagram, hoping he'd finally fall asleep to the glare of the screen.

As he logged into his account, he skipped the activity page and went straight to the explore page. Bored, he continued scrolling until his eyes landed on a specific photo. And the breath escaped his lungs when he clicked on it; the woman in the picture was absolutely gorgeous. He just couldn't resist going to her page, smiling widely when he read her bio.

It gave him her basic information; her name, her age, the university she attended. But what caught his eye was the link below the bio. My Marvel Fanfictions Master List. Marvel fanfictions? She was a writer? Smirking, he clicked on the link and it took him to Tumblr. Of course, he'd heard of the site, but didn't have an account on there. At 3 am, his mind sure wasn't working right.

A post popped up on the screen, the same master list she had mentioned earlier. And his eyes bulged out of their sockets; damn, those are a lot of fanfictions. He went through the whole thing, smirking again when he noticed that she had written the most fanfictions about him. Not Bucky Barnes, no, Sebastian Stan.

He clicked on the first one. The date of posting was way back, in 2019. He started reading; nothing about it felt weird to him; he was intrigued, if anything. And as he continued reading, he couldn't help but imagine her being in the stead of the female protagonist. Her, the writer. The woman whose picture had made him end up reading in the first place.

When he finished the story, his heart thudded wildly in his chest. Wow, she really has a way with words. And he had also noticed how in the author's note, she used a lot of slang but reading the story had made him realize that she had an amazing, extensive vocabulary. He went back to the master list and clicked on the latest post under his name.

Posted: 15 minutes ago.

His breath hitched in his throat when he read the warnings: there was going to be sexual intercourse in this one. For one moment, he hesitated; did he really want to read this? "Oh fuck it," he huffed and scrolled, starting to read. The more he read, the more his shaft twitched in his pants. He wasn't really like that during… but oh damn, he wasn't complaining.

"Oh, Seb…"

His hand slid down and he rubbed himself through his boxers, unable to take his eyes off the text in front of him. His strokes got harder and faster as the sex got steamier. "Ungh, I'm gonna cum—" And he suddenly came in his boxers, groaning. Slumping down on the bed, he quickly finished reading the rest of it, going back to the master list.

He took a screenshot with the account's name in it and then went back to her Instagram account to take another screenshot. Keeping his phone away, he slipped out of his boxers, cleaned himself and pulled the covers on top of him, finally feeling tired enough to fall asleep.

---

Y/N was walking across the campus of her university, going to the cafeteria when her phone buzzed in her pocket. Taking it out, she opened Tumblr to read the message someone had sent her just then.

his-username: Hi there! I was binging your account last night, you write really well

your-username: Omg thank you!!!! I really appreciate it, I love getting feedback! 🥺❤

his-username: You're welcome! Especially your latest post, that was really good ;)

your-username: hehe 😈 glad you liked it!

Smiling widely, she kept her phone away and continued walking, not knowing that the person who had texted her was the same man she had written about. Sebastian smiled to himself when he read her text. After getting up in the morning, the first thing he had done was install Tumblr on his phone. Then he made an account for himself.

Figuring out the app was easy; he found out that there was an option to keep your liked posts and the accounts you followed hidden, and selected it immediately. No one needed to know what he did on the app. Then he went back to her account, pressed the follow button and started binge-reading her fanfictions again. Last night had he read only two, and that had left him wanting more.

Funny how much things can change in a night. He liked and reblogged all her posts without a second thought; he even read all her Bucky Barnes posts. She understood his character so well, put him on what he thought was an undeserved pedestal while writing about him. Some of the stories were AUs, which he found out stood for Alternate Universes. Mostly mobster or mafia stuff.

He had the day off, and he spent the entire time cooped up in his apartment, on his bed, reading. The more he read, the more he started fawning over her, over the version of him that she put out to the world. Dominating, suave and just perfect. He loved it. At the end of the day, he decided to text her again, hoping she wouldn't think he was weird or find out the truth.

his-username: do you wanna be friends, maybe? I'm new to the app, don't really have any friends here ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

That was a lie, he knew Mark Ruffalo had an active Tumblr account. But it's not like he could tell him.

your-username: Yes sure!!!! I was also thinking of making some friends on this app lol

his-username: You don't have any on here? But you've been here for years, haven't you?

your-username: haha yeah, but I don't really reach out to people much. Sometimes people leave their feedbacks on my posts, text me but that's that

his-username: Ohhh

his-username: well, let's start with names. Mine's Sebastian

your-username: Really?????? omg that's so cool lmaooooooo (didn't think you were a boy but 😳👀)

his-username: Not a boy, I'm a man 😤😂

your-username: 🤣 im y/n, btw

his-username: Y/N, that's a nice name

your-username: thank you!!!! So, what do you do?

his-username: nothing really that interesting, I'm in theatre

your-username: theatre is nice! I'm studying at [university] in New York lmao

his-username: Wait you're in New York? So am I!

your-username: ASDFHKSHKGF that's awesome!!! also I noticed that you've been going through my account the whole day 😏 notifications upon notifications keeping my phone busy

his-username: Oopsie?

your-username: 😂😂 I really don't mind, it was great! Despite the amount of likes on my posts, I only have a few loyal followers lmao gaining one more felt nice

your-username: You a big fan of Sebastian Stan? Cuz I noticed that you were only reading his and Bucky's fics 👀

Sebastian's face heated up.

his-username: kinda yeah 🤷🏻‍♂️😁

your-username: Cool cool cool, I'm a big fan of his too!!!! also got a crush on him but whatever 😳

Sebastian smirked at his phone. A crush on him, huh? That… was acceptable. He suddenly felt his cocky side coming out; the one she described in nearly all her fanfictions.

his-username: wouldn't blame ya, I mean, look at him. You have also written the most fics about him and Bucky

your-username: right????? damn that man has raised my standards. Anyway, I gtg now, I have to finish a paper before midnight. ttyl!

his-username: Bye! 👋🏻

He kept his phone away and took in a deep breath. This was the most fun he had had in years, and he was not letting her go so easy. He realized he was quickly falling for her; rather unhealthy, but he couldn't help it. Look at her. She looks like a goddamn angel, writes like one, makes him feel like one, do you really expect him not to fall for her? That's insane.

---

Months passed by like a breeze. Y/N and Sebastian had become very good friends, and he knew his way around words just enough to keep her from finding out his identity while not lying to her. Y/N also appreciated his friendship, because he was the one to whom she could rant about her most favorite man in the world— Sebastian Stan.

Sometimes, she thought about how weird of a coincidence it was that her new friend and the actor shared the same names, but then she used to brush it off; that was a common name, right? They talked for hours on end; Sebastian (her friend, not the actor) was extremely witty, smart and fun to talk to, she had to admit. Sebastian felt the same way.

His feelings had worsened. Y/N entirely owned his heart now. Somedays, he'd just go on Instagram, go to her account— her username memorized by him— and stare at her photos until he grew tired; he'd never get tired of looking at her beautiful face but his stiff body afterwards begged to differ. She was just so Elysian. He longed for the moment when he could meet her in real life.

His personality had also changed majorly, and people had caught on. Especially his Marvel co-stars, who knew him to be introverted, shy and, in Anthony Mackie's words, "boring". They were surprised at his sudden change in attitude; he knew his worth and Y/N had helped tremendously in finding it. Now, all those adjectives that she used in her fanfictions fit him perfectly.

Sebastian was never tempted to read fanfictions about himself from authors other than Y/N. No, he only loved her work. He was sure no one else could write as beautifully as she did, he was her #1 fan. Y/N even sent him funny Marvel memes she found on the app and he used to enjoy them heartily; God, the others have no idea what they're missing out on. Our fans are awesome.

Everything was going well.

Until one day.

Sebastian was getting bored at home, so he decided to go to the nearby library to clear his mind. He had read not one book in the past few months, hung up on Y/N's fanfictions. At this point, he was obsessed with her and he knew it. It was nothing dark, per se, it was— it was similar to how Y/N was attracted to Sebastian. How she was a fan of his work.

Just the same. He was a fan of her work in the same way. Just how she was attracted to him, he was attracted to her. Walking into the library that he visited often, he gave the librarian a smile and ventured further into the dark place. He checked his watch; the library closed at 12 am, it was currently 9:30 pm.

Not many people were around, heck, nobody was around. He thought himself to be all alone until he heard it. A sigh, coming from a few aisles away. He walked in that direction and peeked around the corner, freezing when he saw the other person. Y/N? Her books were strewn all across the table as she sat alone at the booth, rubbing her temples.

"You okay?"

She looked up and her breath caught in her throat. I'm dreaming. This is not real. Now I know for a fact that Sebastian Stan is not standing in front of me, asking me if I'm— "Hello?" He snapped his fingers in front of her face, pulling her out of her thoughts. "I, uh— I'm— h-hi," she stammered and he almost chuckled. "Hi." She gulped visibly and blinked at the table, not meeting his eyes.

"Can I have a seat?" He wants to sit with me?! "Y-Yes, sure, sir," she blurted out and he easily slid into the booth next to her. "Hey, please, call me Sebastian. What's your name?" He gave her a friendly smile, even though all he wanted to do was push her back into the booth and kiss her wildly. His shaft twitched just by thinking about it; Y/N was a thousand times more beautiful in person.

"I'm Y/N, it's very nice to meet you, I'm… I'm a fan," she admitted, playing with the ring she wore on her left thumb. I'm your fan too, sweetheart, the biggest one. "Y/N, nice name. You come here often? I haven't really seen you around." She shook her head. "Oh no no, I moved to this part of the city just a week ago, this is my first time here. The library is cozy," she shrugged, easing out of her tense position.

Sebastian nodded. "Yes, I know, this place is awesome. Got all my favorite books here," he chuckled and she smiled at him. "What's all this?" A groan left her lips. "Ugh, stupid university work. I have to write a book report but I don't even know what to write about." He smiled gently. "Well, I have a few favorite books, would you like some suggestions?"

"Oh, please! Tell me!"

He started listing some of his favorite works and Y/N noted the names down until he said the last name. At that, she froze. That's the name of my latest— She looked up but he had a smile on his face. "Oh, and the last one is by my favorite author." He took a pause. "Y/N Y/L/N." She froze completely, staring at the man with her jaw dropped.

Sebastian grinned. "We finally meet, Y/N, I've been waiting for months." Her mouth opened and closed several times as she recalled every interaction she had had with her online best friend— scratch that— her celebrity crush. All the times she had confessed her love for Sebastian Stan, all the dirty and inappropriate memes that she'd sent him…

Embarrassment flooded her entire body as she exhaled shakily. "It was you," she croaked out, "On Tumblr, the account— I'm so sorry—" Sebastian frowned in confusion when she blinked back sudden tears, a few still rolling down her cheeks as shame replaced embarrassment. "Y/N, please don't cry…" She looked up at him, his figure blurry due to her tears.

"You've read everything, haven't you? I just— I'm sorry, I don't want to make you uncomfortable—" He pulled her into his arms, hugging her tightly. Y/N couldn't hug back, though she appreciated the hug especially since it came from him. "You don't know how much you mean to me, doll," he mumbled into her shoulder, using the nickname she often used in the stories she wrote about him. He grew accustomed to it easily.

"Huh?"

He pulled away to wipe her tears. "It was an accident," he admitted, "But I stumbled onto your Instagram account from my explore page. Then I clicked on your account, saw that you wrote Marvel fanfictions and I just couldn't resist the urge to read what you had written. Blame it on 3 am me, to be honest. You're a great writer, and I was immediately drawn to your works. They're awesome.

"They've helped me so much in the past few months. You see this changed attitude that everyone's been talking about lately? All because of you, sweetheart. I'm sorry for keeping my identity secret, but after reading your works, I knew I had to get closer to you. I made the Tumblr account just for you, just so I could talk to you. I'm sorry for lying, but thank you."

Y/N dumbfoundedly stared at him for a few moments, her heart beat getting steady with each thump. Here was a man she admired, loved more than anyone else in the world, telling her that he harbored the same feelings for her. How crazy was that?! Not trusting her words, she simply pulled him into another hug. Sebastian wrapped his arms tight around her, pulling her flush against him.

"Can I kiss you, doll?"

She slowly pulled away from him and nodded, shyly biting her lip. Grinning at the endearing gesture, Sebastian cupped her face and leaned in, gently pressing his lips to hers. The kiss grew hungry in a matter of seconds, and Y/N responded just as eagerly. His hands slid down to her waist and tugged on it, pulling her on his lap. She straddled his thighs as they continued kissing.

"Fuck," he groaned when they finally pulled away from each other, out of breath and panting. "You see what you do to me, doll?" Sebastian spoke huskily as he took her hand, placing it right on top of the tent that was forming in his pants. "Oh," Y/N whimpered when she felt him, the sound going straight to his shaft. "How about I take you home and we recreate some of the scenes from your stories, hm?"

"O-Okay."

"Good girl."

---

A/N: What a meta experience 🤡 Leave a like if you enjoyed, thanks for reading!

[nakedbibi333]

hi! im kind of new to law of assumption and old to law of attraction. law of assumption is not a hard concept but im a bit confused. i find myself reacting to the 3D too much and like i find it hard to persist? what do i do to make persisting easier? i think it’s because i don’t know much about what im getting into?? all i know is affirm and persist and etc. i hear things like time is an illusion, the 3D is an illusion, circumstances don’t matter, we are all gods of our reality. but WHERES the proof?? i can’t blindly follow people’s success stories because im not them and if we are truly the gods of our realities, doesn’t that mean someone else can manifest failure in mine? like i want to use law of assumption and i want to believe to get what I want fast and easily BUT i want to know how it works and that im not following a delusion to make myself feel better and in the end, I am just left with disappointment and failed attempts at manifesting that left me with the consequences of my actions. ive been in the community for almost 2 years and i don’t think ive ever gotten results. i am not usually agitated but it’s exhausting. i affirm and persist and nothing shows up and im worried im doing it all wrong so i ask and now I’m even affirming wrong?? I know manifestation is supposed to be easy and not feel like a chore but how can it not when everything I desire is of so much importance to me. I can even dm you, just please help me so I can actually manifest what I want. I’ve done self concept but I keep breaking. I don’t even know what affirmations to use to combat my limiting beliefs. Tbh I’m tired. I feel like if someone explained to me how this works and how to do it with no mistakes and how to keep faith in the unseen, I could actually get what I want. I keep failing and failing because I affirm and persist but I affirm wrong or I have a limiting belief that hasn’t been uncovered yet. I’m so exhausted and I just want to get what I want. I just feel like if someone told me how it works and exactly what to do, I wouldn’t be so confused and find it hard to persist

Hi! Okay, so since this is a very long post, I will try to answer each of your questions/concerns in the order you mention them.

So about persisting, I can understand how it seems a bit complicated. You persist when, after a certain period of time, you still don't see movement of your desires manifesting OR if you see the OPPOSITE of your desires manifest. Oftentimes, when you finally open up your mind to the idea that your mind creates your reality, then some past doubts and fears can manifest as well. Your mind will often try to manifest opposite things in order to make you feel like you are doing something wrong, which is why so many loa teachers say to persist. It can be very difficult for people to persist, which is why so many people feel like they can't manifest, or that manifestation isn't real, because their 3D reality has too much weight in their lives, so they take it as truth and end up giving up on their desires manifesting. It's important to begin to believe that your 3D reality is extremely malleable and is only a reflection of your inner reality. You need to take the power away from the 3D and give it to yourself and your ability to create exactly what you want.

Then you ask about proof of manifestation. It is very true and understandable that other people's success stories are not enough for many people because you want to be able to trust the information that you are going to be getting into. Personally, before getting into manifestation, I already had my fair share of unexplainable success stories in my life, so it just seemed like an answer to the questions I've had all my life. Even with these success stories and experiences, when I first got into manifestation, I still would doubt myself by wondering if it was simply a coincidence these things happened, or worse, that I was becoming delusional. I want to tell you that every single person who is now into manifestation has gone through this feeling. We all worry that we are just doing "wishful thinking" and being delusional because the world we have grown up in has always been so practical. It's not easy to believe in something that seems so impossible without any previous personal experience. So, the only advice I can give you for this is to try to manifest extremely small things to build your faith over time, such as seeing a yellow butterfly, getting your favorite food, or seeing some sort of sign, so that you would know that what we are talking about is actually the truth. Also, there are so many documents that go more in-depth on how our minds create our reality, including CIA documents and books about the science of manifestation, such as books by Joe Dispenza, and books about the subconscious mind, such as books by Joseph Murphy, and many many more. Since the only way, you will really believe in manifestation is by having your own experiences, then manifesting small easy things is probably the best route.

Then, you mention how you're worried about "someone manifesting failure into your reality." My view on this is that you are the only person who can affect your life and nothing can happen to you that you don't specifically manifest into your reality (whether it be consciously or unconsciously). Everyone can manifest, yes. Everyone has control over their reality. You can even manifest people acting in certain ways towards you. But that's in your experience specifically. If we are talking about quantum physics, time is not linear, technically all possibilities of all time, ever, exists right now. We also shift through different realities at every moment depending on our mindset, beliefs, and decisions. So, if someone manifests something in their life that would affect "you" but does not align with your thoughts and beliefs, then it won't show up in your reality. You have control over your own reality, nothing comes into your life without you allowing it, so that's a very empowering thought, in my opinion. I really suggest that you affirm this so that you don't have to worry about others manifesting negativity over your life because you would never personally decide to manifest it into your own life.

I also want to talk about how you worry about affirming wrong or simply manifesting wrong. It's Important to note that these beliefs can also negatively affect your manifestation because that is not you truly living in the end. If you were living in the end, you would know that simply deciding that you want this to happen, means that it will happen and that it has to happen. You never need to doubt your manifesting process because your subconscious mind is so powerful and it is so easy to make it do things for you! Just like what @divineangelbee says, you can COMMAND your subconscious mind and it will listen and give you exactly what you want. You don't have to visualize or affirm or do anything. Simply tell your subconscious exactly what you want it to do and trust that it listens! I really think that the reason that you have not been having too much success is because of this, that you are constantly doubting your methods which keeps you from truly living in the end.

Then, about limiting beliefs. It can be beneficial to people to be aware of their limiting beliefs. However, there has been such an intense focus on limiting beliefs in the loa community (mostly on youtube) that I see so much. Coaches keep you focused on the problem of limiting beliefs so much that they don't actually help you move on from them. Personally, I found that whenever I focused on my limiting beliefs, it was like living in the old story. (if you don't get this reference, I seriously suggest you read or listen to Neville Goddard's lectures in which he talks about the law of assumption. They are life-changing). Focusing on limiting beliefs keeps you stuck in that story you are telling yourself about your life. It keeps you from overcoming them and becoming limitless. It helps me to affirm that my limiting beliefs no longer have the power to hold me back. I don't have any more limiting beliefs because I manifested not having them anymore. Manifestation works in many different ways, and a lot of people don't realize that you can simply manifest your desired mindset as well. I suggest trying this!

So, to make this as clear as possible, I will tell you how I personally manifest (disclaimer: people manifest differently, many different things work for different people, I am not saying this is the only or best way to manifest, but this is just what works for me).

First, I get my idea of what I want to manifest. Usually, I want to manifest multiple things at a time, there really is no limit.

Then, I will decide what will help me "feel it real" and "live in the end." This can include techniques, but I don't use techniques every time. I don't like to visualize because I am personally a maladaptive daydreamer, so visualizing makes me feel like I am daydreaming, which keeps me from really feeling like it's really happening. (But, if it works for you, by all means, go for it) I may print out a picture if it's a physical item in order to trick my brain into having something physical that represents this or adding it to a Pinterest vision board (I am a very visual person, so it always works for me). I also like to make a list of what I want just to keep it in a place that I can go back to and mark off in the future, telling my brain that this is a goal I need to achieve (I find that my brain loves to check things off of my goals, it makes my subconscious mind already start working towards the goal). But most of the work goes into my mindset. I don't affirm a lot because I feel like it becomes a chore if I have to recite affirmations all day every day. I may put up affirmations on my chalkboard or put them on my computer, but I don't make it a habit to really say them at specific times, etc. I really focus on making myself feel deserving of getting my manifestation and I also live in the end. Living in the end is where you feel confident that your desire is already yours. If it helps, which it does for me, I like to believe that I have it already in the "quantum field," or the 5D, or however you believe in it. It is not about being delusional and pretending like you have it, no, it's about feeling trusting in your own power to make this happen for you and it will come, no matter what.

After that, I "drop it." I don't forget about it or stop desiring it, that's not what letting go means. It means that I know that I don't need to do anything or force anything to happen because my subconscious, or the universe, will bring this to me and I don't need to worry about anything related to my desire. I also self-regulate my emotions by meditating, focusing on the things that make me happy, and reminding myself of how powerful and capable I am.

Then, eventually, it manifests. Or, if it doesn't come in the timeframe I wanted it to, or if something that would oppose my desire pops up, I focus on my own self-concept, making sure I genuinely feel deserving of and that I can get what I want, and I persist in that feeling that my desire is still mine. No matter if I got rejected, no matter if they told me I couldn't get the job, no matter if it looks like it won't happen. I still persist. and then it comes.

Finally, I want to mention that I am only here to give advice and I can't make anything physically happen for you. To see actual movement in your reality, you need to be willing to go through failures in order to find out what works for you. I have had manifestations fail, I have had MANY manifestations fail. It's not always a perfect process. I don't charge money, my identity is not on this page, I am not here to be a famous coach or to act like I know any better than anyone else. I am just trying to help you guys reach the point that you deserve to get to in your life. But I can only do so much. I really hope this helps.

[thinkingoutlouddblog]

Only For You - h.s.

Summary: H is usually pretty in tune with his body, but he’s apparently not very good at picking up when he’s getting sick. 

Word Count: 5k

Warnings: mentions of covid, plus me taking a guess at how covid testing in the US and at events works so sorry for any potential inaccuracies, I mostly used my knowledge of Aus but honestly its described all very generally

A/N: this took longer than I thought it was going to because I started and then got sick a couple days in :/ I’m still sick but she is done! If you have any requests pls send them my way!

Masterlist  ///  Send me an ask!

Harry is never sick.

He was so strict in his fitness and health, his immune system was better than almost anyone’s you knew. You were pretty sure someone could cough directly into his mouth and it would somehow boost his immune system by giving it a chance to exercise. There had to be fifty times over the course of your relationship so far you were sure you were going to pass on whatever illness you had acquired at the time. You always waited patiently for the other shoe to drop, for him to exhibit your exact symptoms and to be awash with guilt at his sickly state, but it never did.

It is such a rare occurrence, in fact, that he can tell you exactly the last time he came down with something. It was August 2019, he was in LA, and he had ended up missing two Fine Line album release related meetings. He remembered it because you had been in New York, tied up in projects of your own. You had pushed your flight up as a surprise to get home and take care of him, but by the time you touched down he had already been on the mend, and was sat in a rescheduled meeting when you opened the door to your shared home.

He could not recall, however, the earliest warning signs of a flu coming on, having experienced them so infrequently.

He dismissed the heavy tired feeling that had settled upon him, certain it was simply the aftereffects of intensive Grammy rehearsals. True to his perfectionist tendencies, he had been tireless in his efforts to make this one of his best performances and had been spending hours practicing a song you were pretty sure he could nail in his sleep. You said nothing of the fact that you thought he perhaps was spending more time than strictly necessary on this, of course, never wanting to undermine his process or invalidate his feelings of being under intense pressure. You just assured him you thought he was amazing and provided opinions and input whenever he asked it of you. He was overworking himself, but he was not deterred until the lights went down after his extremely successful (and extremely sexy, if you did say so yourself) performance.

Two days later, he was sure his hangover had extended over into a second day as he become aware of a dull ache in his head while awaking from his slumber. He groaned, rubbing his face as he rolled towards you, pulling you against his chest. He breathed deeply, cursing himself for drinking so much and sleeping so little only momentarily before thinking, hey, how many times do you win a Grammy? You stirred at his movement, eyes fluttering open only slightly before you shut them again and snuggled deeper into his chest. You sighed in contentment, loving nothing more than the comfortable feeling you can only get waking up in the morning, still on the edge of sleep. It had always been one of your favourite things, and it was only ever made better by waking up in Harry’s arms.

“I hate getting old,” he mutters into your hair, pressing a kiss where his lips had tickled your forehead.

“What?” You laughed at his unsolicited statement.

“Two-day hangovers are supposed to be reserved for after you hit thirty. But clearly, I’m older than I think I am because they have come for me and I am not enjoying it.”

You wriggled up in his embrace, so that you were face to face, giggling at him as you did say. “Oh god, do you think we should start thinking about retiring?”

“You’re supposed to tell me I’m not old!” He tightened his grip on you as he exclaimed in indignation.

“I mean what can I possibly say, H? Two-day hangover? You’ve basically got a foot in the grave,” you jested, but leaned in to peck his cheek at his faux sour expression.

In response, he released his grip on you and rolled away until he was at the very opposite edge of the bed in a big huff. You only laughed harder at his antics. You followed him to his side of the bed, wrapping your arms around him from behind and placing gentle kisses to the side of his neck.

“Darling, have you considered, maybe, just maybe, this two day hangover has nothing to do with the fact that you are getting older and more to do with the fact that you were working yourself to the bone for a month and then partied like the world was ending?” You pressed another lingering kiss to his neck. “Or perhaps like someone who had just won a Grammy?” A smile broke over your face at the memory, a fresh wave of pride washing through you, somehow still managing to leave you buzzing.

“Nope, I refuse to hear that. My youthful body is supposed to be stronger than any party, even an I-just-won-a-Grammy party.” You snorted in his ear, completely unsurprised by his steadfast stubbornness.

“Alright then old man,” you rolled away from him and hopped out of bed.

“Hey,” he called out, both at the jab and your exit from bed.

“Since my big shot Grammy winning, senior citizen boyfriend is still feeling a bit dusty I suppose I’ll bring him a coffee in bed,” you sing out over your shoulder as you make your way to the kitchen, craving the caffeine yourself.

He knew you were making fun of him to highlight how melodramatic you thought he was being. Each comment about him being old was really made to tell him just how young he was and how little you thought he had to worry about.

He sighed, wanting nothing more than to remain motionless in the warm comfy bed but having no choice to get up and make his way to the bathroom before he could enjoy his coffee in bed. (And maybe some lazy morning sex, he was sure that would help relieve some symptoms). His whole body felt heavy as he rolled out of bed, his limbs and shoulders feeling almost as though they were made of lead.

His brow scrunched as he slowly made his way to the toilet to relieve himself. This really was some day two hangover, he thought. I don’t care what y/n thinks, I’m pretty sure this is one of those moments where you realise your prime is coming to an end.

He flinched as the sunlight pouring in through the frosted glass of the bathroom window hit his face, instantly doubling the force of his headache. He grumbled and scrunched his eyes until they were nearly shut, attempting to minimise the light infiltrating his vision. He did his business as quickly as his protesting body would allow.

By the time he had returned to bed and bundled himself back under the covers the kettle had boiled and you were on your way back to your room. You shuffled along slowly, pausing every two steps to stop your nearly full mugs from spilling over the edge. Harry loved to point out the coffee drips that you left along the floor in your shared home so frequently. They were spread far and wide, and in fairness to you, most of the time you didn’t realise you had done it, else you would have wiped it up immediately.

“H?” you called softly, as you looked up from the mugs to see only a Harry sized lump under the doona as evidence that he was even there.

When you received only an, “Mmm?” in response you continued your slow spillage-avoiding pace up to his bed side table, placing the cup down gently.

“Are you feeling okay baby?” you kneeled down beside him, stroking his hair back from his face.

“Jus’ tired,” he muttered, not opening his eyes.

This shocked you somewhat. He’s always been a morning person, and never tended to sleep in two days in a row. The two of you had spent the morning in bed yesterday, having only crawled in in the (not even that) early hours of the morning and spent the rest of the day lazing about the apartment, nursing respective hangovers. Even with complaints of his hangover extending over into a second day, you had expected him to be itching to throw himself back into his routine, not curled up in bed still feeling shitty.

“You can back to sleep,” you assured, even though he seemed to already be halfway there. “Your coffee’s there if you want some.”

You pressed a kiss to his forehead before leaving him to it, closing the door softly on your way out.

Two hours later, Harry stirs once more from his sleep. His throat is dry as a bone, and his once dull headache is now pounding. He lifts his heavy head off the pillow and his eyes fall to his now cold coffee. He reaches over and takes a gulp, hoping to ease the feeling in his throat. Is not uncommon for him to awaken with a dryness to his throat, he often finds a hot coffee is enough to solve the problem, but alas, he is desperate enough to settle for the cold one before him for now. Instead of the relief he is craving, a burst of pain shoots through his throat each time he swallows a mouthful. He coughs as he places the mug back down, unwilling to have another sip.

And oh Jesus, it finally hits him. He’s sick.

All the signs he had shrugged off now became blaringly obvious to him in retrospect. And oh fuck.

Alarm bells go off in his brain as he registers the risk of what exactly this could be. He scrambles for his phone on his bedside table.

Harry: Don’t come upstairs.

You glance down at your phone as you feel the buzz of the notification. You had spent the morning pottering around the house, catching up on little chores the two of you had neglected over the past few days in the Grammy busy-ness and subsequent hangover. Happy with your efforts, you had settled back into having a lazy morning and were watching television on the couch quietly.

“Harry?” you call out in confusion as you read his text, already pausing the TV and standing up, intending to do the exact opposite of following his advice.

You can’t have made it three steps before he’s calling you. The wave of confusion is soon followed by one of extreme worry as you pick up the phone.

“What the fuck is going on?”

“Don’t come up I’m sick,” he spoke hoarsely.

“What do you mean?”

“Darling, it could be covid you can’t come up here,” he was cursing himself on the other end of the line. He should have been paying more attention to what his body was trying to tell him. Shouldn’t have been risking you like this. If he had it, he was sure he had already infected you too and guilt gnawed away at him.

This stops you in your tracks. You hesitate, you do. But ultimately, you know if he has covid, you’re probably already infected. If he does have it, which you are praying he doesn’t because young as he is, healthy as he is, there is always a risk. The worst running through your mind. If the worst were to happen, you would curse yourself until the day you died for not going to him right now.

“It’s not covid,” you tell him firmly.

“Baby-“

“Your tests from before the Grammy’s were negative, and we should be getting more test results back any minute that will be clean too,” you’re on the move again, absolute in your resolution. The both of you, along with all the other attendees of the ceremony, had been tested both before and after. They were meant to text each of you with your results any minute (or call, if they were positive, but that was a possibility you were trying to put aside).

“Even so, we can’t risk it until we get the results.” At the sound of your footsteps on the stairs he spoke your name sternly, halting your steps again.

“Harry,” you countered, matching his tone.

“Please don’t fight me on this. If you’re so sure that the result is going to be negative, and that they’re going to come in any second,” he pauses to cough, lungs and throat protesting with each word he speaks, “then a little while in bed by myself won’t kill me.”

“But-“

“Darling, please. If it is covid, I’ll never forgive myself for not doing everything in my power to try and keep you from getting it too,” the quiet desperation in his voice is the only thing that could break your resolve.

With a long exhale, you turned back down the stairs but kept the phone to your ear.

“Fine,” you huffed, “but only because I was always taught to respect my elders.”

“See that’s the good news,” he half laughed, half coughed at the exhalation of breath, “I’m not an old man with a two-day hangover, just a young man with an unspecified illness.”

“Do you still have your smell and taste?” you asked worriedly.

“I could definitely taste the cold ass coffee I just drank,” he rasped. He paused for a beat, hearing only the rustling of sheets. “And our bed still smells like you,” you heard the smile behind the comment, appreciating his sweet reference to the love he often professes he has for the way you smell.

“Sometimes I feel like it’s nothing you’re putting on, and sometimes I think it’s everything you’re putting on plus just, you. There’s no other smell like it and I wish I could just bottle it up and have it forever. Bloody aphrodisiac,” he had once told you.

“And you’re not running a fever?” You chewed the inside of your lip as you fired questions at him, a bad habit that reared its head when you were worried, stressed or concentrating hard.

On his end of the line, he felt his forehead for warmth. “Umm,” he considered it, “I’m not sure. Probably not.” He was actually pretty sure he had the beginning of one, but he could tell you were freaking out and he didn’t want to worry you any further until he heard for sure.

“I’m going to grab you a thermometer and some cold and flu tablets,” Harry immediately started to protest but you didn’t let him start. “I’ll put a mask on and just leave them outside the door. I’ll grab you some water and something to eat too. I’m not just leaving you sick up there with nothing.”

He sighed into the phone. “I’m not going to win this argument, am I?”

You scoffed. “Of course not, I let you win the last one not more than five minutes ago.”

He sighed once more, and you rolled your eyes at your overdramatic boyfriend. “Fine, but you have to be in and out.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you leaned the phone between your ear and your shoulder as you grabbed what you needed for him.

“I’m not joking, y/n. You have to be quick.”

You bit your tongue, refraining from snapping back. Did he seriously think you were stupid? You knew he didn’t, he was just sick and stressed about the situation, but that didn’t stop the flare of annoyance that burst through your chest. You shook it off, knowing it was misplaced.

“Okay I’m going to put the phone down so I can pop a mask on and run up,” luckily, you had a million masks around the house ready to go.

“Kay,” he muttered, eyes feeling droopy all over again.

You pull your mask on, and with arms full of supplies dashed up the stairs. Once you arrived at the door, you placed down the cold medication, water and thermometer as well as the banana you had snatched off the kitchen counter before turning and running back down the stairs.

As soon as you’re back down the stairs, you’re pulling your mask off and putting the phone back to your ear. You faintly hear the close of your bedroom door, deducing Harry had grabbed everything.

“I’m back,” you acknowledged your presence on the phone.

“Thank you for that, my love.”

Your phone dinged in your ear, indicating a new text message. You pulled it away from your ear to examine the contents of the text.

You breathed a small sigh of relief.

“They just texted me my covid test results, they’re negative.” Everyone had been tested upon their exit of the Grammy afterparty.

There was a pause on the other end of the line. You silently prayed that pause wasn’t caused by him examining another incoming call, suggesting his results were positive and required an actual conversation.

“Mine are negative too,” he exhaled, you could hear the relief in his voice.

“Oh, thank god,” you said, already turning to go back up the stairs, taking them two at a time.

“I thought you were confident I didn’t have it,” he teased.

“Sorry somebody had to put on a brave face for Mr Worry Wart,” you teased right back. You hung up the phone as you reached the top step. Turning to the left and opening the door to your room.

You stride over to the bed wordlessly and climb in on your side, instantly wrapping both arms around him. He relished the embrace. You loved to poke fun at him, but sometimes the humour was just a way for you to mask how you were really feeling about things and deflect. Harry usually doesn’t point it out but he’s always aware of it.

“I love you,” he whispered, voice still croaky.

“I love you, too,” you pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek.

You stayed like that for a moment longer before you swung into action, full nurturing mother bear mode activated.

“Now, have you taken your temperature? Taken some of the cold and flu tablets?”

At the shake of his head you frowned at him. “Come on then. You do that while I go make you a nice hot tea to soothe your throat. And a box of tissues,” you added at the sight of him sneezing practically hard enough to shake the room.

So back down to the kitchen you went for the third time that day, grabbing him both the tea, the tissues and a nice hearty bowl of porridge, figuring it would be gentle on his throat. “Temperature?” you asked as soon as you crossed the threshold of your doorway.

“No fever,” he punctuated with a cough.

You frowned as you watched it happen, his eyes were rimmed red, his nose beginning to run. He sat up in bed as you handed him the bowl of porridge. You placed the tea down so you could also hand him the box of tissues that had been tucked up under your arm.

“Thank you so much for all this, angel. But you don’t have to wait on me hand and foot, I’ve got a cold, I’m not bed bound,” he grabbed my hand and traced the outside of my hand as he spoke.

“I know I don’t have to do it, but I want to do it. My baby’s feeling crappy I just want to do whatever I can to make him feel less so.” Even after all this time of being together, your cheeks flushed slightly at your sappy words. You meant them, of course, but intimacy was still not one of your strong suits. The way you were raised lacked those kinds of affirmations and endearments, and was never modelled practically in your parent’s relationship. It left you both craving it, and feeling uncomfortable when it actually occurred. With both experience and Harry’s help you had gotten better at it, but you still weren’t 100% there yet. He knew one day you would be, though, and he was so proud to see how much progress you had made. Even if you couldn’t always see it.

Hearing those words from you, was just one more indication at how far you’ve come, and it warmed not only his heart, but his whole chest. With his grip on your hand, he gave you a slight tug, encouraging you to lean forward. Just as you had five minutes earlier, he presses a kiss to your cheek, craving your lips but knowing he can’t have them right now.

“You’re too good to me,” he praised as you pulled away reluctantly, giving him space to enjoy his breakfast while it was still warm.

He expected a joking, I know, in response but instead he receives a serious, “There is no such thing as good too to you. You deserve the world.” You don’t break eye contact with him, even as he is too shocked at your response to form one of his own. “But all I got you was this bowl of porridge sorry babe,” you broke the tension, pulling your hand from his.

“Where are you going now?” He pouts at you as you grab the half empty coffee mug and make your way out of the room.

“I’ll be right back, I promise,” you assure him, already planning how else you are going to fuss over him. He has to be well to go to London to start filming his new movie soon, you reason with yourself. But really, you know he could have nothing coming up and you could be the busiest you’ve ever been, and you would still play nurse for him.

By ‘right back’ he assumed you meant in half an hour, because his mug and bowl are both empty by the time you return, and he is nearly drifting back off to sleep. He is still somewhat upright, but slumped back into his pillow, head lolling to the side slightly, directed towards the door almost as though is watching and waiting for you. While still conscious, his blinks are becoming slower and slower, reminiscent of a baby. You coo at his adorable sleepy state, the moment tugs at your chest so strongly it is almost physically painful. Sometimes, the magnitude of your love for him nearly sweeps you off your feet. You just feel so damn lucky to have these wonderfully domestic moments with him. To see him like this, to be his person that gets to take care of him. While he is a rockstar and you get to do all sorts of crazy things with him that most people dream of (like for instance, watching him perform at and accept a Grammy), you love doing everyday life with him.

“It’s not quite sleep time yet, baby,” you spoke gently, hoping not to startle him too much.

He peeled his eyes open and pouted at you once more. “Why not?”

“Because it’s nice, long, hot, steaming shower time,” his frown deepened, clearly not wanting to move. “I promise you, you’ll feel so much better afterwards.”

“You promise?” He refused to wipe the pout from his face, really stepping into being babied.

“I promise, now up you get,” you offered him both hands to help him up.

“Fine,” he groaned as he took your hands, and you pulled him up.

As soon as he was upright, he wrapped both arms around you and held you tight. He allowed himself a few short seconds before pulling away, not wanting to get you sick too. Even if it wasn’t covid, he still wanted his love well.

You shepherded him into the bathroom, where he winced once more at the brighter lighting. His eyes were always more sensitive to light when he had the flu. You turned the shower on for him while he got undressed, before turning to pull the blinds closed without him breathing a single word of complaint. His heart swelled with love for you for the hundredth time that day. To be loved by you was to be seen. He didn’t need to use his voice to be understood (though that communication obviously had its place).

“Take your time baby, let the steam help get all the bad stuff out,” you gave him a little smile before leaving, closing the door behind you to allow the steam to build up within the space.

Harry let out a sigh as he stepped into the stream of hot steaming water. You were right as ever, the steam helped clear him out somewhat, and even just feeling clean helped him to feel better already. He relished the heat and the soothing feeling of the water, massaging his scalp with shampoo as he began to wash up from head to toe.

He had no idea how much time had passed by the time he reluctantly turned the shower off and stepped into a big fluffy towel. He was much quicker in drying himself than he had been in the rest of his shower routine, eager to rug up in a jumper and some sweats (and some of those thick soft socks you bought him for winter).

He swung the en suite door open, contemplating where he left his comfy winter clothes last when he stops at the sight before him.

You’re putting the last pillowcase on, having changed the sheets completely. His breakfast dishes are cleared, replaced with a hot steaming bowl of vegetable soup and his bottle of water. You’ve dug the humidifier out of the cupboard as well and you’ve got it all set up and running for him. The book he was currently reading was picked up from its previous place on the living room coffee table and waiting for him on your pillow. The exact clothes he was about to grab were sitting at the edge of the bed, laid out ready for him.

“You’re an actual angel, ya know that?” He shakes his head in disbelief. He has no idea what he did in a past life to get so lucky. The success of the music, he can go to bed each night feeling like he has done a lot to earn. He’s worked hard for a long time, and while he accredited a good portion of it all to luck, he knew he wasn’t talentless or undeserving. With you, however, he had simply won the lottery. You weren’t a perfect person, but you were his perfect person. He would spend the rest of his life doing everything in his power to feel deserving of you.

“Only for you,” you say softly.

He strides over to you, holding his towel to keep it from falling as he went. He presses a kiss to your forehead and mutters an, “I love you so much.”

“I love you more,” you peer up at him. “Now get those on,” you gesture towards his clothes, “before your soup gets cold.”

“Where did the soup come from?” He asks as starts to shrug his towel off and pull his clothes on.

“Where did you think I went earlier?” you referenced your half hour long disappearance, having been downstairs chopping up and preparing vegetables to go into the homemade soup.

“Oh, angel,” he breathed, “you really are the best.”

“Oh stop. Don’t act like all of this is not exactly what you do every time I’m sick. Which is far more often than you are, I might add.” You weren’t wrong, he did baby you just as much if not more.

“You’re still the best,” he refused to relent.

“Yeah, yeah,” you end the conversation, not being able to handle too many compliments.

He lets it slide, knowing he could compliment you further and ask you to really hear what he was saying, because he meant it with his entire being. But you were doing so much for him, and he really was tired so he didn’t bombard you with more praise than you desired.

Once he was dressed, he hopped back under the covers and sat up with his soup. He didn’t have the appetite to finish it, but he knew as much of it as he could handle would do him some good.

You jumped into the shower yourself, wanting to feel as clean as the sheets did when you got into bed with him. By the time you were out of the shower and into your own pair of fresh comfy clothes, Harry had finished most of the bowl of soup and had set the remainder aside.

“Thank you so much, angel,” your cheeks tinted pink at the purposeful repetition of that particular pet name.

“Don’t mention it,” you crawled under the covers with him, picking up his book from your pillow. “Now, where were you up to?”

“Hmm?” he questioned.

“In your book, where were you up to?”

“Why?”

“So, I can read it to you, obviously.”

“Is that obvious?”

“Yes.”

“And why do you think I’m suddenly incapable of reading it myself?” He questioned, even though he was practically preening internally at the thought of your sweet voice reading his novel aloud to him. It was a beautiful novel, filled with rich descriptions and he just knew it would sound lovely rolling off your tongue, but you had already done so much for him today it was hardly for of him to let you offer this without giving you an out.

“I don’t think you’re incapable, I just know your eyes hurt when you’re sick and I can imagine it makes it hard to focus on the words. Plus, I always fancied a career in audiobooks,” you actually really wanted to do this for him, not viewing it as an inconvenience at all. In fact, you would probably find yourself disappointed if he told you he would rather read it himself.

“Are you sure? You really don’t have to,” he looked you in the eyes, gauging your expression.

“I want to,” you promised.

“About page 150, you might have to read the first sentence to check.”

So, you began reading, until his eyes grew heavier and his eyes drooped. Slowly but surely, he drifted off into the realm of peaceful deep sleep.

Not before, of course, he muttered, more than half asleep, “I can’t wait to marry the shit out of you.”

[aro-is-gay-af]

The Midnight of Despair | Volturi Kings x fem!reader | Part 2

Part 1 | Part 3

I advise you to read it first, as this post is the continuation. 

Yeah, there will be Part 3 for sure. As usual, sorry for gramatical confusion and/or any mistakes.

Love you all, thank you for 100 (!) notes under Part 1. 

Warnings: Rape, Depression, PTSD, Swear words, Forced Pregnancy

Word count: 6768

Summary: [Y/N] and Bella are childhood friends. They were always there for each other. [Y/N] had tough times and struggles with everyday life. Bella faces depression after Edward had left her. [Y/N] tries to get her going and alive. One day [Y/N] is raped and gets pregnant with the rapist. Not long after that it turns out that Edward got himself into the mess with Volturi. [Y/N], even traumatized and in pieces, will not let Bella go without her supervision to Italy. What is going to happen when [Y/N] will stay at Volterra? Is she really predestined to be Kings’ mate? Is she going to have her baby or abort the pregnancy? Will the trauma go away or is she going to struggle for a long time?

ENJOY!

You tried not to break your eye contact with Aro, as it made you unusually calm and on place. As soon as you walked through the door to the throne room you felt almost like at home. You knew it would take some time to get used to the new place, especially a place like this, though, you didn't find it repulsive or frightening.  

You sat down in the chair that Aro had pulled out for you. It was a little gesture but it made you a little less weirded out. Now, that you were alone with three kings, you were not as relaxed as you might have thought you’ll be, for your legs were trembling with exertion.

It wasn’t a surprise, though. You’ve barely eaten, been up on your feet since you got off the plane and through all day long, you were strongly convinced it was your last day on Earth. On top of this, you’ve just allowed Aro to touch your hand and then kiss it. You were certain that if it was for any other person, you wouldn’t be so willing to do so.

Aro took a seat opposite to you, whereas Marcus and Caius sat, probably, on their usual seats, not that far from you both. You were tired, but confident that some things needed to be established as soon as possible. You understood this perfectly. Also, even though Alice told you about basic things, you still were oblivious to most information.

“You have impressed me with your declaration” it was Caius who started the conversation. You looked directly at him.

“I’m not stupid, nor suicidal” you said, trying to remain as calm as possible. “At least, not anymore” you admitted, your upset tone impossible to miss. Caius tilted his head, eyeing you carefully.

“While on the plane, Alice told me briefly about basics,” you said. Seeing their stares, you rolled your eyes. “Yes, she also explained to me the laws. I knew this trip would’ve only two possible endings for me.”

Aro had known about this prior, but Marcus and Caius looked taken aback, to say at least.

“You knew you’d probably die and still came here?” it was Marcus who asked. It was a weird experience, even if you’d known him only for a few moments, to see such an authentic interest in his behaviour.

You nodded and smiled.

“Sure I did. Bella’s stupid ass didn’t give me another choice” you chuckled. Caius smiled again with that creepy smile, which he also had on his face while in the throne room.

“Stop that, brother” Aro scolded him lightly. “We don’t want to frighten [Y/N].”

Caius only rolled his eyes.

“You are familiar with the fact that I am as old as you, brother?” he asked Aro mockingly, sprawling comfortably in his chair. “There’s no need to scold me like I’m a child.”

Aro frowned.

“Yes, brother, I am certainly familiar with this. But nonetheless, you should be more gentle when it comes to [Y/N].”

Even though you’d been tired, somehow kings’ presence had risen your spirits. Also, it was quite funny to see them mock themselves like this.

“Can I say something?” you asked, visibly amused by their behaviour. You've relaxed a little and only then you felt how tired you really were.

“Of course, cara” said Marcus, who didn’t exactly talk much until now. All of them were looking at you, curious about what you wanted to say.

You smiled shyly, not being accustomed to receive so much attention at once.

“I don’t know if it’s normal but I’m not exactly…afraid of you? I guess I’m mostly curious. I wasn’t… concerned while we were heading here. Like, at all” you admitted, trying your best to find words, which would suit your emotions.

Three of them were listening very carefully, even Aro, who had already known your thoughts.

“Alice wasn’t trying to scare me, but I felt that she was extremely cautious when it came to your coven. Bella also was exaggerating with drama and I…” you immediately felt sick and couldn’t end the sentence. You were happy to maybe die? You were happy to have something to think about, other than rape? To think about something different than this unwanted child?  

It was as they felt the change in your mood. You saw Aro wanted to touch you but restrained himself from doing so. Marcus’s expression was calm but you actually thought, he was being beyond emotional about this. And Caius…he looked genuinely concerned.

You smiled sadly, as none of them said anything.

“I’m not exactly aware of how this mating bond thing works, but that’s probably the reason” you said quietly, with insecurity so overwhelming that you couldn’t look at the kings anymore.  Instead, you embraced your knees with yours arms and glanced at your feet resting on the edge of your chair.

You tried hard not to cry. You weren’t weak, you weren’t unstable. You were harmed in the most brutal way and you knew, it would take you a while to get out of this state of mind. Nevertheless, you didn’t want them to consider you weak or unworthy of their attention. Right now, they were the only ones you had in this world.

Your throat tightened and your lips trembled from the sob you denied yourself to make. One of them handed you a handkerchief, while making an effort not to touch you. You glanced up, as it turned out, at Marcus, who was holding the handkerchief in front of you.

“It is perfectly alright to cry, cara. You have no idea how many times I wished to shed at least one tear” he said, while you were wiping away yours. You believed him, of course. When you were in the throne room, at first Marcus looked completely lifeless and depressed. It changed after he spotted you, but you knew his behaviour didn’t come out of nowhere.

You’ve managed to calm yourself a little bit. After you regained your composure, Aro smiled gently at you, making you give him your full attention.

“My dear, we would be delighted to explain to you everything, but I can clearly see that you are extremely tired. So much has happened today, and the best way we can handle this, is when you are well rested. May I suggest coming back to the topic without any more delay, when you’ve had enough sleep?”

You smiled because of his intricate wording.

“Sure. Although, there’s no need for you to talk to me this way” you said amused, while also trying not to sound rude. The way Aro expressed his thoughts was extremely distinguished and you understood that this was part of his personality that he had acquired over three millennia.

Caius smiled to himself hearing your remark and Marcus didn't hide his amusement either. Even Aro seemed mildly entertained.

“Forgive me, cara mia” he said apologetically, mischievous tone of his voice never escaping your attention. “I am quite old by now” his remark made Caius laugh loudly. You laughed too.

“I don’t think your age matters in this case” you said, your spirits raised just a little bit.

 ***

 After your brief conversation, it was Marcus who showed you to your room. Well, it wasn’t exactly a room, as you had all suite to yourself. As soon as you saw it, you decided that it was really too much, that a bed would suffice, but fell silent after Marcus explained, why you needed to be isolated from others.

You almost forgot they were vampires and you could die if you walked into the wrong one. You shared your concerns with Marcus, who was extremely amused to hear about them. Only the most trusted members of the guard knew of the whereabouts of your chamber. The lower ranks didn't even know that you were staying in the castle for an extended period of time.

Marcus assured that overnight the kings would consider, who would be the most qualified to become your personal guardian. You were a bit embarrassed, as you seemed to be creating quite a problem with your presence in the castle. Nonetheless, you thanked Marcus, making sure beforehand that you would definitely see the three of them, as soon as you got some sleep.

Your chamber was huge. You could’ve sworn it was twice the size of the house you owned in Forks. You had your own bathroom, walk-in-closet and even a small kitchenette with a fridge. The star of the room was the massive bed with a mattress so soft, you felt like you were lying on a cloud. Before you went to bed, you decided to have a bath, because it would be silly to sleep in such a bed while being dirty.

While searching for pyjamas, you realised there were not many clothes in the wardrobe. Could this have been a guest room? You concluded that it was very likely. Anyway, you had nothing against guest rooms which looked like this. You found a thin-strapped, ankle-length nightdress, in a fabric so pleasant that it was impossible to resist wearing it.

The bathroom was ridiculously large, with two sinks to the left of the entrance, a huge bathtub in the middle and a shower that was built into, what you assumed, was a marble wall. On the opposite side of the entrance there was a vanity, with all kinds of beauty products and perfumes. You also didn't expect the bathroom to be in bright colours, and yet, the walls and floor were white marble, whereas all other elements were golden. You didn't even want to think about the fact that indeed, you had real gold faucets to your exclusive use.

You continued to think about the fact that it seemed too much. The lavishness overwhelmed you and, at the same time, distracted you from unpleasant thoughts. The washing up part, as always, was difficult for you. You tried not to look in the mirror at all. Eventually, you decided you didn't have the energy to try a bath, so you went for a quick shower.

It wasn't until you were in the shower, before you truly felt tired. You doubted it was an evening, but you felt like you'd just done a double shift at the hospital. It felt wonderful to have your hair washed, only to cuddle up later in an incredibly soft towel.

While changing into your nightgown, you didn't even glance in the mirror. You were unable to look at your naked body in the reflection. You were afraid, even though the bruises and wounds had long been healed.

Climbing onto the bed, you tried not to think too much. You didn't want to think about what you were going to do with the baby. You didn't want to think about the fact that you would probably have to explain to Caius and Marcus, why you were pregnant in the first place. You also didn't want to think about Aro seeing those memories. You were glad that you could fall asleep and, at least for a little while, be relieved of the burden of reality.

***

 “Alright. What is there that we need to discuss?” you asked, trying to focus. You were back in the study with the round table, except that there were many more papers and books on it than the day before.

It was the strangest morning of your life. According to what Aro told you, you slept for about fifteen hours. He was by your side when you woke up, but not in such manner as to startle you in any way. He came to ask how you were feeling and what you felt like eating for breakfast. You thought that with a kitchenette in your room you would be preparing your own meals. You were very much mistaken. When you said that you would like to eat scrambled eggs, Aro only smiled and told you to get dressed.

You didn't have time to ask what you were supposed to wear since the walk-in-closet was almost empty, but he had already disappeared. It turned out that you were wrong again. In those fifteen hours, someone had managed to restock your wardrobe at least halfway. You were too surprised to look at everything, but you had never seen such expensive and well-tailored clothes. You picked out the first pieces you were sure, you would feel comfortable in.

After a quick shower, you dressed up and when you came out of bathroom, Aro was already waiting for you. He brought you your meal and while you were eating, he would talk to you about things that were of minor importance. It was hard not to notice that he was in a great mood and you had to admit that you were sharing his optimism. He waited patiently for you to end your meal so that both of you could join Marcus and Caius in the study. If your human memory didn't fail you, a great number of issues had to be discussed.

You smiled, seeing so many papers and books on the wooden table. Caius and Marcus were sitting in the exact same places as yesterday.

“You should’ve wake me sooner, you know. I never sleep this much” you said, also sitting in the same place you were assigned the evening before. Aro sat in the chair on your right.

“You should sleep as long as you feel like it, dolcezza,” said Caius, focusing all his attention on you. You blushed a little. You weren’t used to being in the centre of attention. It didn't make you uncomfortable before, but after what happened... It was going to take some time before you could fully recover.  

“Caius is right. You should get plenty of sleep, my dear. If there’s no need to wake you up, we simply will not do it,” said Aro, whose smile has not left his face even for a moment.

When Marcus had finished whatever he was doing, you could finally move on to the conversation between the four of you. You thought that Aro will lead the conversation but, apparently, you were really going to discuss this together.

“I gathered you were a nurse before. You also worked with Carlisle,” started Aro, getting straight to the point. You nodded your head in agreement.

“Yes. I worked on Paediatric Intensive Care Unit but hospital in Forks is so small that I usually ended up also helping Carlisle with many things” you admitted, trying to divide your attention between three of them. If you were to stay a human for a little while, you needed to work on that. It was rather problematic to look at them all at once.

“We became friends when Bella started seeing Edward, but then the whole moving out thing came up and right now, I don't really know if I know Carlisle as well as I thought I did,” you said, without a trace of regret in your voice. Aro knew very well that you had a grudge against the doctor. Sure, Edward had left Bella, but you were sure Carlisle would have at least told you about the promotion. Now you knew it wasn't about that at all, and yet the grudge continued.

Aro smiled lightly, but you saw a glint of sadness in his eye.

“After you transformation I will be pleased to invite here my old friend Carlisle along with his family. I hope everything will work out fine between the two of you” he said with hope in his voice. You had no idea that Carlisle new Aro to the extent that he called him an old friend. You promised yourself to talk about this with Aro while in private.

“I’m…a bit concerned about this, actually” you said anxiously. “I know I need to become a vampire one day, but…” You never ended the sentence. Were you afraid of pain? No, certainly not. However, you wanted to begin with knowing your mates just a little bit more. You wanted to know more about this world you were supposed to spend eternity in.

“It’s perfectly alright to be afraid, [Y/N]” said Marcus, leaning closer to you. You felt stupid and young.

“I don’t think I’m afraid. I’m only…uncertain, because I know close to nothing about your lifestyle and I’m not sure I’m quite ready to experience it,” you tried to explain, as best as you could. Aro was a little bit ahead of Caius and Marcus, as he saw at least parts of such thoughts in your mind. Caius was the one to answer you.

“It understandable, [Y/N]. While you’ll be spending time with us, we’re going to explain everything to you. One step at a time, as my dear brother said earlier. And tell me, how do you like your chambers?” he asked, clearly curious about your opinion. You smiled, but it was a shy one.

“I love it, really, but, as I asked Aro earlier, isn’t it too much?” you suggested, trying not to offend him. Aro and Marcus smiled softly, Caius snorted.

“Nonsense, cara. With us, you'll have the very best of all worlds” he assured you.

“In that case, thank you, all of it is truly wonderful, although I feel a little awkward.”

Again, all three just laughed, but it wasn’t impolite in one bit. Aro put a strand of your hair behind your ear.

“My dear, no need for you to fret about such things as money. The most important person to us is you and we will give you whatever you need” he assured you, still with that magnificent smile. You nodded shyly, not being able to say anything. You had only been with them in a room for a short while and you felt like you were drunk. The aura they exuded was irresistible. Simultaneously you wanted to be with each of them separately and with all of them altogether. It was not an affection, not yet, but this strange attraction did not allow itself to be forgotten easily. You yearned to be in the same room with them, just to be able to talk to them and look at each other constantly.

“I have… I have a house in Forks” you said, after a few minutes of silence.

“Would you like to sell your property?” asked Caius, raising an eyebrow. Aro was also intrigued. Marcus just continued to look at you, almost as he studied your face.

“I guess. I don't think I want to go back there again” you said quietly, recalling how many bad things happened there. You were no longer at ease, not even to mention amused. The kings, just as it happened the day before, felt the shift in your behaviour. “Ever” you emphasised, but it was only a whisper.  

Bad memories deluged your thoughts. Your mother's illness and death. Your father's accident, then his death. Also, the most recent events. You swallowed hard, trying not to cry.

“I don’t want this house. I don’t want to come back to this godforsaken place ever again,” you said, wiping away a single tear with your fingers. You were ashamed, but you could not hold back the tears that followed. You did not deserve to go through all of this.

It was Marcus who spoke first.

“Cara, Aro told us nothing about your past, but I can assure you no one is going to hurt you here. You can be certain about this” he said gently, handing you a handkerchief. You accepted it gratefully, then began to quickly wipe away your tears.

“Marcus is absolutely right, [Y/N]. There is nothing in this world that we cannot protect you from. We will always be by your side. You won’t be in danger ever again” Caius assured you, while you were still trying to get these tears under control.

Aro seemed as if he wanted to lock you in an embrace and never let you go again, but he restrained himself. You knew it was because of your memories, because he saw what happened to you, and because he literally lived through it with you. You thought that probably the latter pushed you towards this decision. Who could know better what you’ve been through, than a person who knew about all things that happened during your life? You wanted a hug, desperately, and you already knew, you could trust Aro on this one.

Once he saw the permission in your eyes, you immediately found yourself in his arms. As usual, he was immensely gentle and affectionate, stroking your hair while not touching your skin, so as not to accidentally read your thoughts. You cuddled into him trustingly, not caring that he was cold. You had known him one day and he had managed to evoke more trust within you, than friends that you had known for years.

When the crying eased and you calmed down slightly, you rested your head on his shoulder. Again, just like yesterday in the throne room, you felt as if you had been home for a long time. They were your home, not some pile of stones and a roof.

“I’m sorry” you whispered, trying not to be ashamed. Aro stroked your hair again.

“There’s nothing to be sorry about, cara mia,” he assured you, with a gentle tone of his voice. You glanced at Marcus and Caius, but they only seemed at ease, as you finally were calm and not crying. Not a hint of jealousy. You didn't want Aro to let you out of his embrace and apparently he wasn't going to do anything of the sort either. You felt safe within his arms.

“Can you take care of ‘selling the house’ thing?” you asked, trying to remember what were you talking about before your emotional breakdown.

“Of course, [Y/N]. You could call Isabella later, to gather things you want to have here with you,” said Caius, exceptionally calm. Maybe his behaviour in the throne room was only an act? Or maybe he was being this way only because you were a mess and he didn’t want to upset you more than you already were.

“Yes, I’d like that, please” you said politely, wiping away the last of your tears with the handkerchief you got from Marcus.

“Are you ready to talk about the child, cara, or do you want to postpone it until some other time?” Aro asked you, trying to be as gentle with the word choice as possible. You hid your face in his jet black hair. It smelled of something you couldn't quite define, but it had a calming effect on you. You heaved a number of deep breaths. He gently caressed your shoulder.

“If you feel like sharing this, cara mia, please do. If you are unable to, do not force yourself” he advised, with so much sensitivity in his tone, that you wouldn’t expect from a man, yet alone from a vampire. It seemed that nor Caius, neither Marcus wanted to push you only to get this information.

You didn’t want to ponder about it for too long. It would definitely come to an end with you simply telling nothing at all. While you were not ready at all to talk about it, you needed to explain this somehow. You weren’t ready for any unexpected touch. You were adamant that current thing with Aro was caused by situation and your emotions. While the thought of Caius or Marcus touching you wasn’t downright awful, the idea of unexpected, unwelcomed touch made you twitch uncontrollably.

“As Aro was kind enough to mention…” started Marcus, probably to assure you no words were truly needed. You might, as well, have said it already. You didn't want anyone to accidentally touch you. You wanted to welcome the touch of your mates, just as you did with Aro a few minutes before. Being touched when you didn’t want would be catastrophic, not only for your mental health, but also for the stirring relationship with kings. It would have been worse than talking about rape itself out loud.

“I was raped a few weeks ago” you choked out, trying to make your voice sound as toneless and apathetic as possible. “I haven’t decided what to do with the… with it. Yet” you added, feeling stupid and extremely anxious. You wanted to get it over with, and at the same time you knew, it would have to be talked about at some point.

Nobody said anything. They probably waited for more words, maybe more emotions. You weren’t tense or embarrassed in front of them. Although, the uncertainty, of what were their thoughts on the topic, was a little bit intimidating. As minutes passed and you were saying nothing, Caius spoke up.

“Do you want us to kill him?” he asked, sweeping you off your feet with the question. You stared at him with amazement, completely forgetting about Aro embracing you. Your gaze didn’t discourage Caius a one bit. “Maybe some tortures first? What do you say, brothers?” he asked Aro and Marcus, his eyes remaining on you.

“Could you really do that?” you asked, before Aro or Marcus could answer. Caius started laughing out loud. There was something terrifying and, yet, incomprehensibly appealing about it. He leaned towards you.

“We would burn the whole world for you,” he whispered perilously. “If you want him to suffer, to be terrified, just as you were, say the word” he clarified, with a nasty smirk on his face. “We’ll make his last hours on Earth a living hell.”

Caius had something dangerous within himself. Something primal. He wasn’t so self-composed as Aro and as insular as Marcus. He was violent, fierce, vicious. It should scare you away from him. Only it didn’t. You believed every word he said and wanted it done. Why this little man should live his life peacefully, when you were traumatised and pregnant with a child you didn’t want in a first place?

“Revenge isn’t going to make you feel better” Aro whispered warningly into your ear, but still with calm and gentle voice.

“Yeah, I know that” you said to Aro, while still staring into Caius’s eyes. His also were crimson, but with lighter shade than Aro’s. You weren’t anxious anymore, nor were you in emotional breakdown. “But women he wants to rape will feel better if he doesn’t” you said, smiling almost as darkly as Caius. You got the feeling that you two were going to get along pretty well. Caius leaned back into his chair.

“Fantastic. We’ll talk about it more in following weeks, dear” he said, obviously pleased with the outcome of the conversation.

“Regardless if you keep the child, you’re going to be one of us” reminded Aro, to change the subject. When he mentioned transformation, you were far more conscious than few moments before. You tried not to be pessimistic about the change. You knew questions needed to be asked, but you had plenty of time to ask about anything you wanted and exactly three most experienced vampires in the world to answer them.

“We established it before, Aro” said Marcus for the first time in a while. You gathered that he wasn’t the talkative one here. You disentangled yourself from Aro's embrace and returned to your chair. Enough touching for today. However, you were sure that the sense of safety and comfort that he provided you with, would remain with you for a long time.

“I’m not able to tell you now if I want to keep the child” you said with confidence. “Anyway, I need to know what will happen, whether I decide to terminate the pregnancy or not.”

You were looking directly at Aro. You knew he had the final word here. You had a feeling how it’ll end, but you wanted to hear it anyway and have it straightforward. Aro sighed softly and smiled warmly after.

“If you’d like to keep the child, you’re going to give birth to it and when it’ll be grown up enough, it’ll become one of us” he said, his gaze extremely soft.

“Okay” you agreed. “And what if I’m not going to keep the child?” you asked, because it was the more probable occurrence. Aro saw it within your thoughts and you weren’t going to act like it wasn’t the choice you were closer to opt for. His smile remained gentle and warm, his eyes calm and soft on yours.

“The things that need to be done, are going to be done” he said, and you were extremely grateful that he didn’t use the ‘abortion’ word. You were too emotionally unstable to talk about it so straightforward. “We are going to know each other a little bit more. You’ll also meet our most trustful guards to feel safe. When you’ll be ready, one of us will change you” he explained, as simple as he could. You smiled at him a little sadly.

“Alright. Do I have any time limitations?” you asked curiously, throwing a quick glance at Caius and Marcus.

“No, dolcezza. You can take as much time as you want. You’re finally with us. That’s what truly matters to us” he reassured you. He was neither angry nor upset with the thought of you postponing transformation till the child is being born.

“One step at a time” he said cheerfully and smiled. You also smiled. It was almost impossible not to. “Cara mia, you’re so pretty when you smile. I hope you’ll be able to do that more and more here” this sentence made you blush. All three of them laughed, which made you blush even more.

“Thank you” you whispered, but it was a little unsure and hesitant. You saw concern on their faces.

“May I ask you one more question?” this time it was Marcus who asked.

“Yeah, go ahead.”

“Have you checked how far along are you? You’ve told us that maybe you’ll want to terminate the pregnancy, but my concern is about your health and how your body is going to catch up with the decision of yours, regardless what it’ll be” he said, very politely, trying not to offend you. You appreciated that dearly.

Marcus did ask very good question, though. You had no idea how far along you were. It was at least three months since it happened, so your first trimester should be over very soon.

“I don’t know. I haven’t checked. I couldn’t find the courage to do so. The only thing the doctor did, was to confirm the pregnancy” you answered, trying hard to remember if something else was being said.

“We should probably call the doctor, then” said Marcus, concern noticeable in his voice. Aro and Caius agreed with him, so did you.  

“So, do I have my own cook at my disposal?” you asked to change the subject and relieve tension a bit. Enough of difficult subjects for today.

“Ah, yes, my dear, of course!” said Aro with extreme enthusiasm. “I hope you enjoyed your breakfast today. If something isn’t the way you want it, tell any of us right away.”

“Oh, yes, I did! Hey, and I told you that already!” you said, quite amused. “Am I not supposed to be the one, who forgets?” you asked, laughing.

Caius laughed most loudly, clearly amused by what you’ve just said. Aro smiled, watching you being in better mood, than before. Marcus was just Marcus, but he also smiled.

You spent the rest of the day with the kings, talking about many important and less important things. Mostly, you talked about the matter of selling your house, the things you will want to have with you in the castle, the fact that you should give up your job and your personal guard. The latter has been the cause of endless discussion. Later that evening, Aro decided that Renata, his personal guard, would be temporarily assigned to you.

You wanted to argue but there was literally no point in it. You knew that for the time you were still human, you had to have some sort of guard, because you couldn't even handle half a vampire on your own. You weren't tired at all, so after eating dinner you spent time with Caius and Marcus, trying to figure out what you could do together to get to know each other better. Unfortunately, Aro was obliged to attend to some important business, but in this case, you had already established some kind of a bond with him.

Caius and Marcus deeply respected your wish not to touch you in any way. You visited the library and were sure you had simply fallen in love. Sadly, most of the books were written in languages the existence of which you were previously unaware. Marcus was more than happy to offer you to study with him. To begin with, learning Italian. You had not yet discovered what Caius liked to do, but you were sure you would soon find out.

When they too had to attend to important matters, they escorted you to your room, and you decided it would be a good idea to call Bella. Not just about the house, but generally to let her know you were alive. When you’ve finally reached her, you both couldn’t shut up.

“Hi, sister!” you squeaked, overly excited. You heard her laugh.

“Hi! Are you fine, [Y/N]? I was starting to worry, the only thing that kept me from calling you was Alice,” she said and you laughed.

“Hi [Y/N]!” you heard Alice in the background. You threw yourself on the bed, so that you could lie on your stomach. You hugged your pillow and made yourself comfortable.

“Hi Alice!” you greeted her, smiling to yourself like a mad person, who you probably were, given the circumstances. “I’m happy to hear you, Bella, seriously. Are you at Cullen’s place?” you asked curious, as where Alice came from.

“Yeah, exactly. We were all worried here, you know” she admitted, you heard how anxious she was. You couldn’t help it but laughed.

“Well, how could you leave me in the lion's den like that” you joked and heard someone’s laugh.

“She’s fun. I need to meet her” you heard again and also laughed.

“This will probably happen sooner rather than later,” you answer to this mystery someone with confidence. Bella’s side fell silent. “But, you know, I guess I’m okay. I had fifteen hours of sleep today and the best scrambled eggs in my entire life” you admitted cheerfully, thinking about you waking up and eating your breakfast in Aro’s presence. You smiled widely. You heard someone talking in the background, but you had no idea what was this all about.

“That’s good because I was worried sick when we got out of that room” Bella admitted, trying to sound not too worried, though.

“It’s better than fine, you know. And how are you? You seriously were as white as a sheet while in throne room” you said and this was your turn to be worried about Bella again. “Hey, and I hope this asshole isn’t going to leave you again. My threat is in force,” you said in a threatening tone, knowing that Edward could definitely hear it. You heard the same laugh as before plus Bella’s laugh.

“I’m sure he’ll not be doing it again. Carlisle has already scolded him decently.”

Your heart ached a little after hearing Carlisle’s name. You thought he was your friend, or maybe it was beginning of friendship, and now you had no idea what to think about it at all.

“Good. How are you, Bells?” you asked again, hugging your pillow tightly.

“I’m okay, really, [Y/N]. No need to worry about me.”

Of course you were going to worry about her. She was just like a little sister to you. No way you’d stop worrying. Suddenly, you remembered what happened in the throne room and became seriously concerned.

“Have you set a date?” you asked, and again, the other side fell silent. This time completely. You sighed heavily. “I’m not a spy, you know, but I’m worried about you. We will need to talk about all of this. I get why didn’t you tell me, but, seriously Bella, your self-preservation instinct does not exist,” you scolded her, just a little. You had a feeling that she gave no fucks, no matter what anyone could say about this situation.

“Says the “I’m staying here, Bella” person” she gritted out with sarcasm. You rolled your eyes.

“One, they wouldn’t let me leave. Two, you were in danger and I was alright with sacrificing myself to save you. Three…” this time you fell silent, realising something important. “…I wouldn’t go. I’m not able to. This bond, whatever it is, it’s strong shit. You probably now it, as you have this with Edward. I have got it triple.”

After really long moment of complete silence, Bella spoke up.

“Why would you sacrifice yourself for me?” she asked, her question as heavy as storm clouds. You sighed.

“Because I’ve got nothing to live for, ya know? I was prepared that I wouldn’t get out alive,” you admitted with sad voice, but it was downright true.

“You’re pregnant, [Y/N]” she said, like it was something, which could immediately improve your well-being and quality of life. You felt like throwing up.

“Yeah. I’m pregnant with the child I don’t want, with a man I’ve never met, who forced himself on me and made my life more miserable than it already was. I should probably send him a card or something because, guess what, I’ve never considered that my life is going to be more crappy than it already was after my parents’ death.”

When you ended the sentence and no one said anything, you just sighed heavily.

“You’ve got the date set?” you asked again, merely curious about this and to change the topic.

“Not yet” she said, her voice sad and full of emotions.

“Then do it. They’re patient, to some extent, but don't tempt fate. I don’t want to attend yet another funeral,” you said bitterly, trying not to think at all.

“How can you be so calm about all of this?” Bella snapped suddenly, making you shift uncomfortably on bed.

“And how you can be so calm? How was this your fucking plan from the very beginning? Once again, I try to understand you, while not understanding you at all” you snapped too, tired of any games. Before she could answer, you continued:

“I’m not coming back. I wanted to ask you if you could go to my house and get some things, I can make you a list if it’s going to be easier.”

You thought telling her this right away would be better than if she wasn’t aware for weeks or months.

“What?! Why aren’t you coming back?” she asked with raised voice. You wanted to shout and scream but you didn’t. It was too much for one day.

“Because I’ve got nothing to come back to. You’re going to be a vampire anyway, so I’ll see you in some time. I’m selling the house and I want to leave the past exactly where it belongs” you explained, trying not to yell. The hormone fluctuations didn't make it easy for you at all.

Another silence. You were tired of all of this.

“Can you do this for me, Bella? Because if you can’t, I’m sure…”

She didn’t let you finish.

“Of course I’ll do it for you. Can we talk tomorrow about the details?” she asked, her voice calmed a bit.

“Yeah, sure. It’s well after midnight here anyway, so I should probably go to sleep. I’ve got doctor’s appointment tomorrow in the afternoon” you said, trying to sound casually. Last thing you needed now was to argue about anything with Bella.

“Okay, so, call me tomorrow?” she asked. “And be safe.”

“You too, Bells. Take care. I love you, sis” you said, trying to stop the forthcoming tears.

“I love you too, [Y/N].”

Long after this phone call, you couldn’t get yourself to sleep. You tried bath this time, but it was mostly useless. At least, you were clean. First time after the rape, you decided to touch your belly on purpose. It began to curve gently, and, apart from that, you still felt pain and pressure in your breasts. You put on a nightdress and went to bed, this time actually trying to get some sleep. You also tried not to think too much about what the future would bring.

[novamirmirsblog]

But there's still only one bed!?

Word count: 1165

Genre: Not actually sure :3

Request: No

Warnings: Swearing

A/N: I was looking up a random city generator and it took me to Stockholm 😭

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

The week was painfully long. The first two nights had gone okay. Natasha had mostly kept to her side of the bed, occasionally a foot would stray over the pillow wall (on purpose) and you would grab her calf and push it back over. On the third night, when Natasha's foot and lower leg came over the pillow fort, you hesitated and that horrified you. You'd heard of Stockholm syndrome - of course you had but you had never thought it would happen to you.

No no no. You were wrong. You were just very tired and so your reflexes weren't as fast. That's what you told yourself when you pushed her leg back over, a little more gently than the nights before, letting your fingers linger just a fraction of a second longer. Damn you so had Stockholm syndrome.

Within the past couple days, you had realised that the stick wasn't that far up Natasha's ass and she didn't actually think she was the greatest thing in God's green earth. It didn't stop you from calling her princess because it was funny to see her go a little more red than she was before. You always believed it was because she was mad, but perhaps it wasn't. Not that it mattered, as long as you got a reaction you didn't care why. As much as it pained you to admit, the two of you worked extremely well which is surprising considering the shit-show that happened in Zagreb. It was almost as if the two of you were falling into a comfortable, safe, routine.

The third night, you didn't build the pillow wall quite so high, claiming you didn't want to be like Trump and that Natasha ignored the wall anyway so what was the point in using so many when you could have more for your head. You weren't convinced yourself and there was absolutely no way Natasha was convinced but she nodded her head in agreement anyway.

By the forth night, there was a single line of pillows between you and Natasha. On the fifth morning, you awoke tangled with the assassin. Your breathing stilled instantly as you tried desperately to get out from underneath her, opting to believe the pounding heart was horror at the situation. You knew she hadn't been sleeping well - you were a relatively light sleeper and this was the most at peace Natasha had seemed the entire time you had known her. All these facts didn't mean you didn't shove her off you though. You unceremoniously fell off the bed, legs tangled with not only Natasha's, but the bedsheets too.

"Owww."

"Aww poor baby" Natasha's head popped up from the bed, holding back a laugh as she looked down at you. "Did you fall out the bed?" She gave you a fake pout before getting up damn gracefully (which was annoyingly frustrating). "Come on Y/n. We have places to be, bad guys to take down."

~~~~~

"Why the hell are we still walking? Surely it would be fine for us to get a car now." You tripped over a root you weren't looking for "Fuck me."

Natasha mumbled something before turning to you "Aww did someone fall out on the wrong side of the bed?"

You glared at her "I wouldn't have fallen out if you had kept to your side. I had no damn bed to sleep on so of course I fell out." You stood up, brushing yourself off before storming past Natasha.

You didn't like these new feelings bubbling up in your chest and you sure as hell were going to ignore them till they went away. You both made it to the café that your targets were supposed to be for some meeting or other and blended in. Nothing particularly interesting was happening except for the waitress who occasionally flirted with you.

"How come you hate me so much?" Natasha asked you through your earpiece, hiding her mouth with a newspaper.

"Why are you such a bitch?" You muttered into your cup.

"Nuh uh. I asked first. So Y/l/n, why do you hate me so much?"

"Ughhh it's not that I hate you per se... just that the Avengers rub me the wrong way." Your target was getting up and - shit- walking over to you.

"Zdravstvuy dorogoy" (hello darling) he purred out. Perhaps if he was a lot younger you could have gone for that but he was old and overweight so it was a big no.

"Privet" (hello)

"Get out of there Y/n" Natasha whispered into your earpiece.

"Chto takogo krasivogo, kak ty, zanimayesh'sya sam po sebe?" (What's a pretty thing like you doing on your own)

You saw an opportunity and took it. "Mozhet ya zhdu, chto kto-to vrode tebya pridet pozdorovat'sya" (Maybe I'm waiting for someone like you to come say hi) You twirled a piece of hair around your finger and bit your lip, ignoring what Natasha said.

Ivan, the target, received a text "Izvini, krasavitsa, vozmozhno, sud'ba pozvolit nam snova vstretit'sya" (Sorry beautiful, perhaps destiny will allow us to meet again)

Ivan left a piece of paper on your table and payed for your drink.

~~~~~

You both waited for Ivan to leave completely and then left separately, meeting back in the woods.

"What the hell was that? I told you to get out of there." Natasha turned on you as soon as you arrived.

"I couldn't exactly get up and walk away from him as soon as he started talking! That would have been suspicious."

"You didn't have to flirt with him though." Natasha began walking back to the house.

""Umm yeah? Yeah I did? Or did you forget the whole reason we're here Natasha? Fury said any means necessary and it's not like flirting is the furthest I've gone for a mission. I'm sure it's the same for you." You stomped after her, not letting the conversation go.

"Flirting was not part of the plan! Hell, it's a no contact mission. All we need to do is grab some documents and that's it."

"Well now we've got a way in." You waved a piece of paper in Natasha's face - it was an invitation to a party Ivan was throwing at his house "Besides, we have two more days and we have nothing other than a few useless pictures."

"You know this is obviously a trap right?" Natasha rolled her eyes as she read the writing. "There is no way he would invite someone like you."

"And why not? Surprisingly Natasha, people find me attractive. Some could even say very attractive. You know what, fuck you Natasha. I got us an in so you shouldn't be on my damn back about it all."

You had somehow managed to get back to the house while bickering. You opened the door and kicked off your shoes. "I'm tired and I have paperwork to do. Excuse me." You brushed past her and settled yourself in the small workspace.