#I'm putting too much effort into these I need to tone it down or I'll keep falling behind lol

[kailixart]

cringetober day four - angel and devil

[tusks-and-claws]

I’m Not What You Need (But I Am)

Miguel O’Hara x female reader

Summary:  “When you sit there/acting like you know me/acting like you only brought me here to get below me”

You have a concern to bring to Miguel, but when he hears what you really think of him, he doesn’t let you off so easily

Tags/warnings: smut (18+), oneshot, cunnilingus, unprotected sex, kind of missionary idk what to call it, dominant Miguel, brat taming, orgasm denial, dirty talk, choking, sort of strangers to lovers, maybe a little bit of a hatefuck if you squint, reader is a Spider person, def a bit out of character

Wordcount: 3.5k

Find on Ao3 here :3

"Why are you coming to me with such trivial annoyances?" Miguel O'Hara asked you from the platform of his lab, at least ten feet above you. He was tapping on various screens, not giving you eye contact. It felt purposeful, pointed. 

"I'm sorry, I thought you wanted to know when fights broke out. Keeping the peace and all that." You felt yourself growing warm, anxiety fluttering in your stomach. 

"What I want," he said, his tone growing short. "Is for people to sort out their own bullshit, so I can worry about what's important. Which, if you haven't noticed, is much bigger than you and I and some stupid fight in the lobby."

As soon as he said it, you knew he was right. But he was still being an asshole. You were only trying to help.

You put your hands up in defense. "I just thought you'd wanna know." Then whispered under your breath "douchebag," as you turned to walk away.

But your progress was halted by something tugging at your wrist. You looked down to see what it was, and closed your eyes, quietly cursing yourself. Neon red webbing. 

"You wanna run that by me again?" Miguel asked. 

You swallowed a lump in your throat. "Nothing, it was nothing. I'll just leave." 

You tried to pull free, but he was reeling you in, like a helpless fish on a hook. "Oh, no," he said, sounding somewhat amused. "No, I heard you. 'Douchebag,' eh? Not very creative. But…" he paused when you were closer, close enough that he could look directly down at you. "I want to hear you say it again. Face to face, this time."

You frowned. "How can we be 'face to face' when you're so high above me?"

He wagged a finger at you. "You've got a point there." In a sudden flash of tingling, your Spider sense triggered. But Miguel was too fast, he'd been doing this for far longer than you had. In an instant, you were wrapped in neon red and being hoisted upward onto the platform. He planted you right in front of him, putting his hands on his hips and leaning down so his eyes were level with yours. "Happy?"

You huffed. Why was he like this? A self-satisfied grin played at the edges of his plush lips as he scrutinized you with bloodshot eyes. Finally registering how close he was, and how huge he was, you started turning red. He could throw you around like you weighed nothing, couldn't he? He had just lifted you up here with hardly any effort. You'd never thought about another Spider like this. Sure, you were all strong, but there was something in Miguel's upper body that you couldn't free from your thoughts, something in those massive shoulders, something-

"Well?" He asked, breaking your trance. "I don't have all day."

You met his eyes. They looked so tired. You didn't want to insult him anymore. You wanted to leave and pretend like the thoughts you had about him never existed. 

But you knew what he needed to hear. 

"Douchebag," you repeated. 

He smiled, and it was humorless. "It's nice to know that this is what people think of me. That I did this for all of us, and everyone in our worlds. And the word that comes to mind when people talk to me is…?" He raised an eyebrow prompting you. 

"...Douchebag."

"That's right!" He pointed a finger at you. "I don't ask for much. I ask for people to listen and respect the operation. And that means respecting my time, too, eh? No more coming right to me with petty fights that people can solve on their own." 

You just stared back up at him, hardly registering his words. Respect time, no more fights, whatever. His hair looked so soft. 

"Got it?" He asked, starting to sound frustrated again. 

You nodded.

"I need to hear you say it."

"G-got it." 

"Good." He patted your shoulder. What an odd gesture. It was very nearly caring. "Let's get you out of here." He flexed his hand, talons coming free. He quickly swiped at the webbing he had wrapped you in, the strands snapping and falling to the floor in shreds.

Your heart was hammering in your chest. His brow furrowed. "Listen, I know I'm scary, but I'm just doing my job."

You shook your head. "I'm- I'm not scared."

"Are you not? Dios mio, I can hear your blood pumping." 

His heightened senses were going to be your death sentence. The longer he stood staring at you, the worse your thoughts became. But you couldn't bring yourself to move away from his attention. You crossed your arms, trying to make yourself small so he would stop looking at you. 

He raised an eyebrow. "What, do you wanna be friends or something?"

No, you thought, I want us to be something different. 

Despite your best efforts, you blurted out, "no, in all honesty, I've never really liked you that much." Why did you say that? What was wrong with you? 

He cocked his head, his eyes widening, processing what you just said. He started to nod. "Oh, wow. Great. Thank you so much. What a productive conversation. And you're still here because…?"

"Because you getting the last word in is infuriating to me." You couldn't stop yourself. You knew this was bad, but you couldn't stop.

"How do you think I feel? You came here for the sole purpose of bothering me and now you won't leave me the shock alone." He pointed at you again, forefinger lightly jabbing your collarbone. "You. Can. Leave. This is my lab, you little brat." He spoke the words through gritted teeth, and you could just barely see his elongated canines, gleaming and sharp in the light of the lab's computer screens. 

Oh no.

You stood there, just blinking at him. You've never seen someone so annoyed looking so attractive at the same time. It wasn't fucking fair.

He suddenly started, the anger from his face vanishing, confusion taking its place. "Oh yeah?" He asked, his voice taking on a mocking tone. "That's why your heart is pounding?"

Fuck.

"What, uh… what do you-"

"Don't play dumb with me.” He placed a gloved finger under your chin, tilting your head up towards him. “I can smell that you're turned on. Is that why you came here to bother me? So you could gawk at me? And maybe I'd fuck you if you were lucky."

You backed up, nearly slipping off the edge of the raised platform. Miguel reached out and caught your hand, pulling you in close to him. Unconsciously, you splayed your hands on his chest to steady yourself. His body was so warm and inviting, and you were drawn into it like a little planet circling a blazing sun. 

What was happening, what were you doing?

"Is that what you thought?" He asked, seeming to echo the questions you asked yourself, his voice growing more quiet as he looked down at you.

You quickly raised your hands away from him, closing them into loose fists and crossing your arms again. "No," you said, truthfully. 

"But you're thinking it now." He nodded. "Aren't you?"

After a pause, you nodded too.

"I really need to hear you say it." He probed.

"I'm…. I'm thinking about it now."

"Oh, are you? Thinking about what?"

You swore under your breath, doing a poor job of hiding a scowl. You should've known he wasn't going to make it easy for you. 

"Thinking about you fucking me." You grimaced after admitting it, waiting for him to mock you and disown you. 

He smiled. "That's funny. I thought I was a douchebag." 

"Fuck you, man!" You threw your arms up into the air, turning around and preparing to hop down from the platform. 

“No no no, come on, now,” he said, grasping your wrist with a large, warm hand. His grip was surprisingly gentle. “Why don’t you give me a chance to change your mind?”

You looked him in the eyes, and there was a small spark there. You sighed, unable to deny the reaction your body had to him. You wanted him. And he was offering himself to you. What reality was this where that was even possible? Not ten minutes ago, you were hardly closer than strangers. “Okay,” you said, offering him a small grin. “Don’t fuck it up.”

“Oh, I won’t.” In another swift movement, he swept you up into his arms and laid you down on your back on the lab floor. He was above you, arms on either side of your head, boxing you in. You could hardly see anything past those vast shoulders. You swallowed. He raised one hand to your head, petting your hair. “Look at that. You really are so pretty. Couldn’t help thinking it even when you were pissing me off earlier.”

You furrowed your brow. “I thought you wanted to change my mind, asshole, is this-”

He cut you off as his hand lowered, skating down your side and brushing against your breast before traveling even further. You exhaled shakily, trying to prepare yourself for this. Miguel O'Hara was touching you. Miguel O'Hara was going to fuck you. 

When he reached the curvature of your hips, he fondly squeezed, humming to himself. "Soft… so soft. You wouldn't want an asshole like me to eat you out, would you?"

Your brain short-circuited at how blatant he was. "No, I- I would, I really fucking would, Miguel."

"Oh, are we on a first name basis, now?" He hooked a clawed finger into the fabric of your suit, ripping a huge gash into it so he could access you. That… that was your good suit. You bit down on your bottom lip, trying to keep yourself from quipping back at him as he scooted downward, wrapping his arms around your thighs and lining himself up with your pussy. You threw your head back in anticipation, screwing your eyes shut. How was this real? How was-

You gasped as his tongue made gentle contact with your sex, slowly and carefully licking a long swipe from your opening to your clit, like he was savoring the first taste of you. 

"You taste even better than you smell, amor." 

Fuck, he was savoring you. You trembled beneath him, your hands tentatively reaching down to tangle with his hair. And it was even softer than you thought it would be. 

"That's it," he encouraged. "Hang onto me." 

You listened, your grip on his hair tightening. As if that were his cue, he brought his tongue back to your aching pussy, lapping at the wetness that was all but dripping from you. Your body immediately felt too hot on the metal floor, and you were convinced that you were beginning to melt under the warmth of his tongue. The almost-penetration was sending you spiraling; he was giving you nothing that you needed while somehow simultaneously answering your every secret desire. You needed that mouth on your clit. Your greedy, aroused body needed more, more. You had him all to yourself and he was teasing you. It wasn't fair. 

You whimpered as you gripped soft locks of his hair, waiting for him to take the plunge. Waiting…. And waiting. But he just kept lapping contentedly at your entrance, just barely dipping his tongue inside. The feeling was pleasant but infuriating. What was he trying to do? Did he want you to beg for it?

Oh.

…He couldn't be serious. 

But that was the only conclusion you could reach. After all, he'd been asking to hear you say things this entire encounter, prompting you to be vocal. All you had to do was swallow your pride. 

"M-Miguel…?" You asked, your voice quiet.

He stopped, picking his head up slightly, looking at you from under his thick brows. "Mm? What is it?"

"Please, um… please…." Your voice caught in your throat. Why was this so difficult?

"Oh, you're begging me now? What could you possibly be begging for… Isn't this what you wanted?"

You narrowed your eyes as he held your gaze with that lackadaisical expression. 

"Please," you started, feeling humiliated. "Please suck on my clit."

"Good girl. All you had to do was ask." In no time at all, his mouth was back on you. He zeroed in on your clit, taking the sensitive bundle of nerves into the wet warmth of his mouth, sucking on it just as you needed. The feeling was so intense and you couldn't suppress any of the noises that escaped you. And the noises he made didn't help in the slightest. He was humming as he worked your clit, the gentle vibrations of his voice adding to the overstimulation. He stopped for a moment to instead use his tongue, and the pointed attention was delicious.

"How are you feeling, amor?" He asked without fully pulling away from you, his voice slightly lisping from the contact. 

"Good," you gasped, feeling like you were getting close to the edge. "So, so good. Please keep going."

"Tell me when you're going to cum."

"Yes, yes I will." 

He continued his efforts, mercilessly devouring you, a cacophony of wet sounds rising to meet your ears. You could feel your orgasm building, your body singing. He was playing you like an instrument. That warm, pulsating feeling was building deep inside your core, threatening to burst apart with every second. 

Your grip on his hair tightened. "Miguel, I'm- I'm gonna-" 

Your back started arching and you closed your eyes as… nothing happened. He pulled his head away from you. You opened your eyes to see him looking at you from between your legs, one of his eyebrows raised. 

"Wha- what?" 

He smirked. "Oh, this? It's nothing... It's just that douchebags usually don't care about making women cum."

Your jaw dropped open. This again? You gritted your teeth, your clit swollen and thrumming with your pulse. You needed release. 

"I'm sorry." You said, your voice desperate. 

He raised his eyebrows, amused. "Oh, wow, that was fast." His tone was so matter-of-fact.

"I'm sorry for calling you a douchebag and an asshole, I was wrong about you. Please let me cum." You spat the words out so quickly that you hardly registered what you were saying. 

"How could I say no to that?" He returned to you, gripping your thighs more firmly than he had before, shamelessly moaning into you as you started to curl up off the hard metal floor. Your orgasm was so close, it was right within your grasp. Your breath started going ragged as you held onto him for dear life. In a white hot burst of pleasure, you came, swearing loudly as Miguel drank up every bit of you, letting you ride your orgasm out on his skillful tongue. He slowed down right as you did, matching your pace perfectly until you were a heaving mess on the floor in front of him.

"My turn, now," his voice came through the fog, it sounded distant. But you could feel strong arms lifting you up and all but dropping you onto your back on one of the lab's computer consoles, its screen turning off in response. He dismissed a section of his high tech suit, his manhood coming free. You couldn't help but gawk at him. His body was unreal. From the small window he created, you could see hard lines of muscle carved into golden skin. Your head started spinning again. 

He began pumping his hard cock as he looked down at you, spreading your legs further open with his free hand. "See how easy it is to get what you want when you aren't being a brat?" The way his muscles flexed through his tight suit while he worked himself was maddening. You wanted- no, you needed him to fuck you. You needed him inside you. 

You nodded your head, answering his question. 

"So, tell me what you want." 

"I want you to fuck me," you answered, still panting from your orgasm. "I want to feel you so badly. Please, Miguel."

"You're a fast learner," he purred, bringing his cock to your folds and lubricating himself on the mess you two had made. He slid over your slick entrance, his head touching your aching clit as he moved up and down. "I'll fuck this pretty cunt for you, since you asked so nicely." 

He positioned himself at your entrance and slowly pushed himself inside of you, inch by thick inch. You moaned, the feeling of finally being full was luscious, he was pressing at your walls from all angles. At last, when he was in up to the hilt, he stayed there for a moment while his large hands found your waist. 

"My God, look at you. You took all of me, and so shocking well. You," he exhaled, seemingly taking a second to compose himself. "You feel so good." 

"Thank you," you whispered, breathless. He was praising you. It was… nice to hear. Stubbornness be damned.

He chuckled to himself. "Please and thank you? You really do learn fast. You've earned this, amor." And with that, he pulled himself out of you, slamming back in with a hard slap. Over and over, he fucked you with the entire length of his cock, hitting spots inside of you that you weren't sure even existed. "Lemme hear you, I wanna hear it all."

You obeyed. "O-oh my God, Miguel, fuck. It's… it's so good. Thank you. Thank you thank you thank you."

Thanking him fueled his fire; his grip on your waist tightening, red eyes sparkling wildly. "Good girl, that's it… watching my cock disappear inside of you… it's making me crazy. You like getting fucked by someone you hated before all this? You wanna get filled up by someone you don't even like?"

"Yes, please." Your back arched into him, the pressure from his unwavering thrusts overwhelming you. The feeling was impossibly perfect, your body tingling from your head to your toes. He really did fit inside of you so well.  

"You'll get it, baby. Keep being good for me, you'll get it." 

As he continued, his hands roamed your body. Groping at your breasts, resting on the soft slope of your stomach. You grabbed one of his traveling hands, a rogue feeling overtaking you as you brought it up to your throat. 

His eyes widened in disbelief. “Y-yeah? You want me to choke you?” He sounded excited.

“P-please,” you huffed, grabbing onto his forearm.

“Holy shit, you’re something else.” He began applying gentle pressure to your airway as he kept fucking you. It was the perfect amount of constriction; suppressing your breath intake just enough for your head to feel pleasantly airy. He was good at that, why was he so good at that?

Between the way he was pounding you and the way he was choking you, your muscles started to bear down on him.

"Yes, yes, squeeze that cock. Good girl. You’re gonna get what you want.” 

You clenched down on him, your orgasm rocking you to your core as he fucked you through it. It hit you in giant waves, crashing over you and pulling you into the undertow. You felt completely drunk on it. The warmth of it was everywhere in your body, all the way up to your fingertips. Your head swam, your eyes rolling back into your head. Miguel swore to himself, his tempo becoming more irregular. He released your throat, hands flying down to grip the console. You thought you could hear it cracking. 

“God, you’re tight. I’m gonna fill you up.”

“Yes,” you rasped, your body shaking. 

He growled as he came inside of you, bearing his fangs in clenched teeth once more, and you could feel his cock twitch followed by the heat of his seed as it stuffed you full. He lingered over you, his eyes looking frenzied as his gaze flicked over your face, his chest heaving with every recovering breath. 

You released a deep sigh, smiling tenderly at him. “Thank you, Miguel.”

“You, uh,” he started awkwardly, running his hands through his hair. He still hadn’t even pulled out of you yet. “You earned it,” he repeated. 

He took a short, unsure step back, as he pulled his length free from you. You could feel his cum leaking from you upon his release. There was so much of it. 

He held his hand out to you to help you up, and you grasped it, smiling again as you got to your feet. 

“I’ll clean this mess up, but you.…” He scanned your frame. “...I’ve got a pair of pants on one of the lab chairs down there.” He pointed toward a particularly cluttered section of his space. “Bringing them back would be a much better excuse to see me than a fight in the lobby.”

[jae-bummer]

Erasing Boundaries

Request: Hi I hope you're well~~I'd really like to see no.12 with Bang Chan from the prompt list. 👀 I'd also like to say that I've been a long time follower and I really love reading your works! Thank you for putting the time and effort!! <3

Prompt:

12) When your bias tries to delicately friendzone you, they realize you just wanted to be friends in the first place. Shortly after, they realize they’re the ones falling for you.

Pairing: Stray Kids Bang Chan x Reader

Genre: Fluff

.

"We're just friends."

"You're a trustworthy person, Chan," Lee Know muttered from his spot on the studio couch. "So I don't understand why you're lying to me right now."

"I'm not lying!" Chan said, spinning around in his office chair. "I really don't have feelings for Y/N."

"Right," Lee Know muttered. "Because instead of multiple feelings, you have one feeling, and it is love."

"Seriously?" Chan groaned, flopping his head back. "Why are you even saying this?"

"You follow them around like a lovesick puppy," Lee Know sighed, pulling out his phone. "Don't think I haven't noticed."

"I feel insulted," Chan pouted. "I am not lovesick, nor am I a puppy."

"A lovesick wolf then."

Chan groaned again as he spun away from his younger member.

After a moment of silence, he turned back around. "Do you think Y/N has feelings for me?"

"Probably," Lee Know hummed, not bothering to look up. "But I thought you didn't have feelings for them."

"I don't!" Chan gasped. "Maybe...maybe I should talk to them."

"And confess? Good idea."

"No!" Chan chuckled. "To just confirm that we're friends and nothing more than that."

"Are you sure you really want to create that boundary?" Lee Know asked with lifted brows. "You're friend zoning yourself."

"I'm friend zoning, Y/N," Chan nodded. "This idea that we like each other romantically must have come from how they interact with me. I know I haven't been flirting."

"I'm sorry," Lee Know sighed. "Are you finally having a mental break? Or are we living two incredibly different lives?"

"I think you're seeing what you want to see," Chan nodded finitely.

"Hello, pot?" Lee Know laughed. "This is kettle. You're black."

"I can't be in a relationship right now," Chan sighed, switching tactics. "We've got too much going on."

"There are far too many arguments I can make," Lee Know muttered. "And frankly I'm exhausted."

"Good," Chan grinned. "I'll let you know how the talk goes."

"Please, don't."

..

"Why was your text so ominous?" you asked, plopping across Chan's bed. Taking a long sip from your frozen coffee, you looked up to see him pacing back and forth in front of you.

"Ominous?" he muttered. "It wasn't ominous. I just asked you to come over."

"You said we-" you cleared your throat, trying to pitch your voice deeper to match Chan's tone. ""needed to talk.""

"Well, it wasn't so much of a need as it is a want," he sighed, finally stopping and sitting down beside you.

You narrowed your eyes at your friend, trying to figure out what was going on in his head. Normally he had at least a hundred things swirling around up there, but today seemed to have a hundred and one.

"You're kind of starting to freak me out," you grumbled, sitting up from your lounging position to better look at him.

"No need," he said quickly. "I just...I wanted to make sure something was clear between us."

"Okay..." you trailed off.

"We're friends, yeah?"

"If we weren't, I'd consider the past year to be a cruel joke," you teased, but instantly stopped as Chan's face remained solemn.

"Chris?" you squeaked. "We are friends...right?"

"Of course, we are!" he gasped, moving to squeeze your knee, but stopping short. Taking a moment to compose himself, he finally swiveled toward you. ""Y/N, you're one of my people."

Your heart gave a small flip. Chan was one of your people too. As someone you could always go to for advice or comfort, he reminded you of the type of guy who was your older sibling's friend that you always had a childhood crush on. You reconciled long ago that someone like him was out of your league, or at least that was your perception of it.

"And as one of my people, I want you to know how important you are to me."

"Chris," you hummed, holding your hand up in the air. "This is awfully sentimental for a Thursday afternoon."

"Right," he winced. "I'll save you my speech that I definitely didn't take an hour figuring out last night."

Your eyes grew wide.

"Joking," he chuckled unconvincingly.

You would find out later that he, in fact, was not joking.

"Long story short," he continued, unable to meet your eyes. "We're friends."

"Yep."

"Just. Friends." he said, emphasizing each word.

"Hearing you loud and clear," you nodded, still unsure what the climax of the conversation would be.

"Good, good," he nodded, reaching toward the drink you had brought him. "So, how was your day?"

"Wait, I'm sorry," you coughed. "Was that it?"

"Well, yeah," he said, furrowing his brow. "Why?"

"I legitimately had anxiety on my way over here," you gasped. "And it was simply for you to tell me something I already knew?"

"You had anxiety?" Chan pouted, his expression soft. "That wasn't my intention at all! It's just that the members kept hinting to me that they thought we were involved, and I wanted to make sure the record was set straight with everyone and-"

"Take a breath, Chris," you sighed. You patted him lightly on the shoulder. "I may have had anxiety, but I also am relieved to know it was over something so silly. I know we're friends."

"We are," he nodded. "You're the Patrick to my SpongeBob, the-"

"Wait, why do I have to be Patrick?" you muttered.

"Because you live under a rock and can't open a jar on your own," he grinned.

"Ah, right," you teased. "And you're SpongeBob because you never stay hydrated and have an unhealthy fixation with your job."

"Low blow, Y/N."

"The truth hurts, doesn't it?"

...

"I messed up."

"You're right," Lee Know hummed. "We should have given Hyunjin up for adoption years ago. Should I start looking for the closest fire station?"

"That is not what I meant," Chan muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I messed up with Y/N. Bad."

"Please," Lee Know said quietly. "Please tell me you did not do what I think you did."

"I made it clear how we are thoroughly, only friends," Chan winced.

Lee Know inhaled deeply through his nose before holding it and letting it out through his mouth.

"Aren't you going to say anything?" Chan whispered.

"Give me a minute," Lee Know grumbled. "My therapist taught me to focus on my breathing when I wanted to get violent."

"Minho," Chan deadpanned.

"Yes, I know, you're my hyung, and I shouldn't speak to you this way, but damnit, man!"

"I know!" Chan cried. "I messed up."

"As you keep saying!" Lee Know sighed. "Now how are you going to fix it?"

"Fix it?" Chan chirped. "I shouldn't just wallow in my misery?"

"Let's try this," Lee Know said slowly. "If the roles here were reversed, what would you tell me?"

Chan scrunched up his face. "Well, I guess I'd tell you that it's okay to make mistakes and this wasn't a serious one. No one is going to die, except you, maybe of embarrassment. You can try to clear your conscience and confess, or just really make a go at trying to be only friends."

"And that's when I would say...?"

"Full steam ahead, let's make an ass out of ourselves," Chan chuckled.

"Correct," Lee Know grinned. "So let Y/N know how you feel. How you really feel."

"One problem," Chan sighed. "In the process of me friend zoning them, I'm pretty sure they friend zoned me twice as hard."

"What do you mean?"

"They said they knew all along we were only friends."

"Do you think just maybe," Lee Know said, tilting his head. "They were following your lead?"

"I mean...maybe?"

"Well," Lee Know grinned. "Time to find out."

...

"Christopher Bang!" you gasped, flying through the front door of the dorm. "I swear on every star in the sky, and EVEN the one's on Felix's cheeks, that if you summon me again with a "we need to talk" text, I'm going to end you!"

"I don't have much tact when I'm nervous," Chan admitted from the living room sofa. He cringed as he looked up at you. "You look nice today."

"I don't want compliments!" you huffed. "I want an explanation!"

"Okay, and you deserve one," he said calmly. "But first, may I interest you in a beverage?"

"Stop stalling."

"Alright, alright," he grumbled. Pushing himself up from the cushions, he came to stand in front of you. It looked like he hadn't slept in days (which wasn't entirely uncommon) but it seemed to really be wearing on him more than usual. "Our conversation yesterday-"

"Wasn't much of a conversation," you finished. "More like just stating the obvious but continue."

"Whatever it was," Chan sighed. "I was wrong."

"You were...wrong?"

"Yes."

You bit your lower lip, not failing to notice the way it drew Chan's eyes. "So are you saying we're not friends?"

"We are," he said quickly. "But from my perspective, that isn't the full truth."

You waited, unsure of what that could possibly mean.

"I told you yesterday that you were one of my people," he said softly. "But that wasn't entirely accurate. If I was being truthful, with you and myself, I would have said you're my person."

Lifting your brows, you tried not to stagger back. Was he actually about to tell you that he had feelings for you? After you had resolved yourself to live with the shadow of unrequited love?

"I care about you in ways that a normal friend wouldn't," he continued. His voice remained quiet, but he had moved closer. "And I understand if you only see me in that brotherly way, that's okay. I get it, but I drove myself nuts last night playing over our conversation. It was a mistake to try to draw a boundary in our relationship, especially when I honestly wanted to erase any we did have."

"Chris-"

"I'm a mess," he whispered. "I'm stubborn and obsessive and make so many mistakes. I'm tired and worn out...but if you can accept all of that...I'll try to be the best version of myself for you."

You stayed quiet, only able to blink up at him as you processed this new information. It felt as if someone was blowing a balloon in your chest, and it was destined to pop at any moment.

"But also, no pressure," he said quickly. "I'd rather be your friend than nothing at all."

"Silly boy," you said softly, only mildly concerned that you would spook him if you came at the situation too enthusiastically. Crossing the small amount of space between the two of you, you stuck out your bottom lip. "I see the best version of you every day. It's just that some days, your best is going to look different depending on what you have to give. Every trait you listed as a weakness has a strength to it. You're stubborn, but that makes you determined. You're obsessive, but you're committed. And with every mistake you make, you learn. It's okay to recognize the flaws in yourself, but you have to recognize the other side of all that. I care about every side of you, Chris. Every day, some days, whatever you're willing to give...I'm going to take."

You could see Chan's eyes go glassy. "You have no idea how much I needed to hear that."

"Good," you smiled. "So yes, I care about you in a more than friend way."

You gave yourself a mental high five. Suddenly, the unattainable childhood crush knew you existed, and wanted you back. How often does that happen?

"I don't deserve you," he hummed, cautiously pulling you into his chest. Wrapping his strong arms around you, he gave a loving squeeze. "But I'm glad you think I do."

Kissing him playfully on the underside of his jaw, you laughed. "Shut up, SpongeBob."

[apalapucian]

it's lily who finds him. he's lying on the topmost bench on the quidditch stands, drenched and on his back, eyes open and narrowed against the rain. he's crumpled that leather jacket he loves so much into a lamentable pillow.

"i don't need your pity party," he says when she reaches him. she almost doesn't hear over the downpour. she wouldn't have if she hadn't seen his lips move, if she didn't know his voice so much that she can pick it up from anywhere.

she rolls her eyes. "you need a fucking umbrella," she points out, casting a drying spell and then sitting on the space beside his head.

sirius glares at the overly bright yellow umbrella now blocking his current best friend: his stupid, unforgiving ocean of nimbus clouds. lily waits for the cutting remark, the blunt admonishment. it doesn't come. he just huffs, and then closes his eyes.

eventually, he says, "my god, i am a drama queen," the ice not quite melting, but noticeably chipping at the edges.

"yes, you are."

"my brother's a fucking death eater though. that's got to be worse, isn't it?"

"regulus is not a death eater."

he flinches at the name. "not yet. but like we all just fucking heard, he's clearly — "

"that's not your fault."

he clenches his jaw. "feels like it is."

"it's not."

"how do you deal with all that shit with your sister?"

lily keeps her eyes on the pitch, but the umbrella sags an inch. this. this is why she sought him after that whole regulus fiasco. because he gets it. maybe she needed the pity party. she says, "well, not by storming off to brood in the rain alone, for sure."

he opens his eyes to raise an eyebrow up at her. when she perfectly mirrors his expression as an answer, he breaks and laughs. "why're you even here," he asks irritably, but he's sitting up now, and he's slackened, and lily doesn't need to answer his question because they both know that he knows why she's here.

he pries the umbrella from her hand and holds it up for them because he's taller. more on her side than his, she notices, but that's because he's already mostly rained down on. when she puts her head on his shoulder, he says, "stupid. i'm wasting effort here holding this up for you and you get yourself soaked anyway."

"shut up."

"if you get sick, james will kill me."

"if i get sick, i'll kill you myself."

that makes him chuckle, at least.

they stay like that until the rain softens to a drizzle, neither of them saying anything. when the mist has thinned and all the greens start coming back through, lily straightens up. "sirius."

"what," he says, in that eternally irate, snobbish tone of his.

"you have more than one brother, you know that?"

—

sirius thinks, i've got three more, yeah. i do know that.

he also thinks, and an annoying sister, seems like. do you know that?

and: thanks for being here. i feel like i'm losing my head.

and: it's not my fault it's not my fault reg's an idiot and that's not my fucking fault.

he says, "your hair makes my neck itch."

lily laughs.

—

james, remus, and peter see that laugh. they don't hear it, being too far down, but james knows exactly what lily's laugh sounds like, that one and all the rest, so he, at least, might as well have heard it. he pockets the map and starts walking back inside to the changing rooms. remus and peter exchange a glance before following suit.

"we're leaving?" asks peter, craning his neck while he talks, reluctant to wrench his eyes off sirius and lily.

"yep," says james brightly. "kitchens. let's go."

"but there'll be dinner in the great hall now," says remus, checking his watch.

"those two won't be feeling like dinner in the great hall tonight," says james. "we have to get them the good stuff before they run out."

"but i'm hungry," says peter.

"we can eat there, we don't have to wait for them," says james. "come on."

he slings an arm each around them, and off they go to the kitchens, james smiling to himself all the way.

[blakeswritingimagines]

The Vow

Summary: Being married to the rouge prince was no easy task at least most thought so, being his wife and best friend did nothing but make everyday of your life better and better....until you forget all about him

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

Word count: 4.4k

You softly groaned as you stretched in the large bed that had enough room for what might be a small feast, until you rolled over onto your other side and slowly opened your eyes seeing your husband who was often nothing but a brute cuddled up to your side also slowly waking up which caused you to smile to yourself. Lightly dragging your fingertips across his pale skin taking in the slow tender moment before your days were started even if you knew you could go see him throughout the day.

He felt your fingers on his skin and stir, his eyes remaining shut as he leaned in slightly and bury his face in your neck. Scenting your skin, he savours your presence while he still can, before eventually opening his eyes. "Hello." He nuzzled your shoulder. Daemon smiled as your fingers traced his skin. It was a soft way to wake up, rather than the way he was normally woken up. He rolled his hand around searching to take your hand in his own. "We could stay here like this, you know." Daemon spoke softly to you, his hand tracing your face.

Feeling your eyes flutter shut at your husband's tender touch not able to help the smile that brightened due to his words, shaking your head knowing as much as you loved to stay put in his arms wasting the day away together you knew you both would be far to busy and everyone would never let up about needing something from one or the other "I love the way you think my darling, you know I'll be around when you need attention just come simply find me." Daemon sighed, knowing you were right. He rolled on top of you, giving you a kiss upon your lips. "Oh don't you worry, my love, your Daemon will find you wherever you are." He spoke in an amusingly formal tone, his hands now moving down your body.

Wrapping your arms around his shoulders smiling up at him, kissing him back softly as you enjoyed the feeling of his firm lips against your own then smiled at his words "I know you will...you always do my Daemon". Giving him another sweet kiss on the lips as you felt his rough hands move across your body before you slowly pushed him up as you sat up "I'm not falling for another five minutes today my love." Daemon laughed slightly at your tease but he was still slightly on the offensive. He pushed you back down to the bed and laid next to you. "You sure? Seems to me like you're enjoying this very much." Daemon spoke with a bit of a smirk on his face, his eyes tracing your bare body. I am a lucky man. He thought.

You sighed playfully as you were forced to lay back down as you looked up at him, nodding your head happily as you cupped his face in a delicate manner "I always enjoy being with you, but we're meant to be busy today my darling". Doing your best to not wrap your arms around him and simply go back to sleep as you attempted to sit up once more. Daemon sighed slightly but made no effort to hold you down this time. Instead he leaned over you once more, planting a soft kiss on your lips once more. "Fiiiine, my love." Daemon said in a playful tone, before leaning back and rolling over to get dressed. "I suppose I should probably get out of this bed…I'm sure that our duties have been waiting too long." Daemon spoke, as if the prospect of dealing with all of his affairs was already a headache.

Laughing as you kissed him back once more before finally getting up and getting dressed, working like a well oiled machine along side of him as he helped you tighten your gown before you tenderly helped him get dressed after being married for so long neither of you saw need for servants anymore. gently cupping his face in your hands as you smiled then pulled him close as you placed kisses all over his face only ending with placing a kiss on his forehead "Only for a few hours I promise love, I believe you can handle that much." Daemon laughed as you kissed him all over and placed one upon his forehead. "I suppose I can handle it, but only if I get to return here when we have some time." He said with a sly smile, his hands still resting on you. Daemon loved being married to you, and he would want nothing more than to spend every waking moment of his life with you, but for now he needed to return to his duties. Perhaps you can help me with some of them…afterwards. Daemon smiled to himself.

Daemon laughed as you dressed him and then put more kisses on him. You were such a tender woman and Daemon loved your touch, your kisses. "I don't think I'll be able to survive such a long separation." Daemon said, his mouth in a small smirk as he placed his hands upon your face. He kissed you back, lingeringly this time. "Perhaps we can escape just a few more minutes…" Daemon whispered against your lips. You leaned into his touch as your eyes closed taking in the comfortable feeling of being wrapped in his arms, looking up at him as you kissed him back lovingly before taking your time to pull away as you looked into his violet eyes and smiled "I said I wasn't falling for it" You spoke before giving him a few quick kisses before you had started walk out of the room ready to start your day so you could finish early and be back beside him as if you both were still newlyweds.

Daemon's face widened at your smirk, as if you were teasing him. Which he supposed you were. "Oh, my sweet lady wife of mine, why are you so cruel?" Daemon said in jest, as if you were actually doing anything wrong by leaving him. "I miss you already." Daemon would tease back as he did not pursue you, for he knew you would return. You always did after all. You couldn't help but laugh at your husband's playful words as you walked away from him knowing he was going to be even more dramatic, going about your day making sure your focus was only on the work in front of you even going out of your way to help Rhaenyra a little bit as the two held a small awkward conversation. Going outside toward the dragonpit seeing your baby Saphira taking some time to yourself as you got fresh air on top of the large beast going into the air with a smile on your face at least before your dragon turned which left you unstable as you fell hitting your head and blacking out as the workers quickly got help.

Daemon was in the middle of some sort of royal affair or meeting with important lords and ladies. It wasn't that terribly important, it was just something he had to do to make sure the realm was properly run. He would get the most important tasks done earlier in the day as to not disrupt his wonderful schedule. Daemon was just stepping out of his chamber for the day when he spotted something unusual. He saw one of the dragon keepers carrying out a woman who had seemingly been knocked out. His curiosity was piqued at first but he quickly turned to concern as he rushed to your side after noticing it was you.

"What in the seven hells happened?" He asked the keeper as he took you away from him. As he spoke to you he lightly grasped your hand, hoping you would wake up soon as your consciousness was all he cared about at this moment in time. The workers all stiffened once the rouge prince especially knowing how protective Daemon was over you, clearing their throats as well as sharing looks before one finally spoke up "She said she wanted some fresh air with Saphira but the next thing we knew she had hit her head and passed out" Not wanting to be on the bad end of the prince's rage they knew to take anything with you seriously even with hitting your head and now as a maester was going to look you over.

"And you just left her alone?" Daemon questioned. "Saphira?" He asked, looking to see if the dragon had attacked you. He knew the dragon would do no such thing, but he wanted to cover all his bases. He knelt by your side and felt your forehead, hoping it was nothing serious. "Please dear, wake up." Daemon whispered, his voice laden with anxiety as he felt your hand. The workers shrugged having been tending to the other dragons while you were with Saphira "We figured she'd be fine, the dragon is fine nor does Saphira seem as if anything happened", Helping take you to the maesters where they laid you down and left as the maester started checking and looking over you better after getting the details of what happened.

Daemon's face was full of worry as he stood beside your unconscious form. He couldn't help but feel guilty. His mind raced as he wondered how he could have left you alone and this happen. I have failed to keep her safe. Daemon whispered to himself. Daemon's heart seemed to skip a beat when the maester was checking you. Not knowing if you were even alive or not. When you were being treated he waited alongside you, just watching you in anxious anticipation for you to open your eyes. After enough time passed the maester sighed before looking over at you with a slight shake of his head as he spoke "She's still breathing but might be out for longer due to the heavy hit to the head, it might take some time but I'm unaware of how long."

Daemon was relieved to find out that you were still breathing. He was in a position of power and yet he couldn't do anything for you. All he could do was wait. Daemon looked at you, watching your gentle features and waiting for you to wake up. Daemon's hand caressed you gently, he hoped you couldn't feel it in your state but he wanted it to anyway. Weeks passed of not much changing nor did anyone attempt to mention perhaps it was best to let go especially with how angry the prince had become, that not even his brother Viserys or Rhaenyra could help calm him down like you often did but once you slowly opened your eyes with a heavy breath as you slowly looked around confused even as the maester came to check on you as your voice came out hoarse "Where am I?".

Daemon rushed to his feet as your eyes reopened. "Y/n! Thank all seven gods you are alive." Daemon spoke with a mix of relief, happiness and guilt. "The gods are merciful today, I thought I had lost you." Daemon said with a breath of relief. "You're on King's Landing, the seat of House Targaryen. You got hit in the head and I've been here for weeks waiting for you." Daemon admitted, feeling nothing but shame for himself. You looked over at the tall man as you winced feeling as if his voice was echoing in your head heavily, tilting your head slightly as you tried to process his words but shook your head not remembering anything as you tried to recall what you were last doing especially hearing you had been out for weeks now "Who are you? and why am I in King's Landing?".

Daemon felt the blood drain from his face. You didn't remember him? You were joking. He looked at you, waiting for you to crack a smile and start laughing. It never came. Daemon slowly moved towards you, taking your hand gently. "My love, I am Daemon Targaryen. We have been married for years now. Your life, it's only just started. But… You don't remember anything?" Daemon questioned, his voice filled with panic. You continued to look at him curiously as you listened closely and tried to place him somewhere you might remember him, feeling bad that he seemed so hurt out about you not knowing him but shook your head as you pulled your hand away from his "No I'm sorry, all I remember is taking a walk than everything went black" Not knowing you had lost years of your life but looked over at the maester who started asking you questions to see what you could remember before he looked over at Daemon scared of his reaction "She has a small case of amnesia."

Amnesia is a kind word for what you have. Daemon thought to himself, his anxiety increasing. He didn't handle the news that you didn't remember him as the man had hoped. Daemon took a moment to gather himself from your sudden news. "Amnesia?" Daemon asked the maester, ignoring the explanation initially. He looked at you, his eyes wide with concern and even a twinge of fear. "My lady wife… Please tell me you remember my name at least." Daemon asked, his voice full of need. You slowly sat up with a small groan of pain as you gently rubbed your head feeling a dull but painful throb, looking up at him once more as you tried to really look at him from his lilc eyes, platinum hair, tall and strong build, only to shake your head again "No I really don't know who you are". Listening as the maester spoke up about how it might take some time for you to feel better but it might do you some well to continue getting rest.

Daemon could feel his heart sink into his stomach. You didn't remember him… You had lost your memory. "You don't know me?" Daemon questioned again. He couldn't believe that that was truly an option. His head was reeling, what did this mean? How does he deal with this? As the maester continued to talk Daemon listened but the words hardly registered in his brain. Slowly he reached his hand out, holding your hand once more. He was not going to let you go again. During the next few days, you had been moved into your own private chambers since you felt weird being alone with Daemon still not remembering him, opting to even sit next to Rhaenyra more even if you couldn't remember her or Viserys who seemed nice when you did talk to him but also who had pushed your work onto someone else in the meantime. Sitting down at the dining table with them all as you bowed your head for prayer waiting until it was done before you started eating feeling excited that Rhaenyra and yourself would be hanging out.

Daemon sat at the table with you and Rhaenyra, his eyes on you at all times. As you prayed Daemon did the same, taking some time to himself pleading witht the gods new or old to hear him. It was good to see your face smiling, even if you didn't remember him. As all of you sat down to eat Daemon kept looking at you, still hoping you would suddenly remember him and everything that had transpired during your marriage. He hoped that deep down he had left his mark on you. That his memory was buried deep within you and only needed to be uncovered. Speaking with Rhaenyra as if nothing was wrong even as the blonde princess agreed that you were married to her uncle, doing your best to go about your routine each day you woke up only to have to ask servants what it was you normally did which often left one of the Targaryens to be told as they stepped in to help you like a small child. Glancing up as you chewed on your food only to see Daemon watching you which caused you to look down at your plate as your brows furrowed "Do you always watch me so closely?".

Daemon smiled softly at your observation, it was as if you were beginning to return your wits even if it was slowly. Daemon had been watching you closely, for you were a puzzle piece he didn't understand. Your amnesia was just a road block that Daemon was determined to overcome. "Of course I do." Daemon said with a smirk, his eyes looking to you, his wife. "It's only natural that I desire to stare at my beautiful wife." Daemon said with a flirtatious tone, hoping to earn some sort of reaction from you. You nodded your head slightly at his words as you squirmed around in your seat slightly instead of flirting back with him like usual, getting up with Rhaenyra once you both finished eating as Rhaenyra gently took you by the hand leading you around as she did most of the talking unless you had questions even as Rhaenyra started to enjoy spending time with you wondering why it had taken so long and you getting hurt for it to happen.

Daemon took notice at your change in demeanor, it seemed as if you were less inclined to flirt and be cheeky when compared to your normal self. You didn't even remember the man you married. It was concerning but Daemon wasn't entirely bothered by it. He felt almost as if you were a new woman to woo, to earn. Daemon wasn't opposed to the idea of winning you over once more. He watched Rhaenyra take you by the hand and lead you away, the two of you looking almost as if you were friends. "Have we found you the perfect friend now?" Daemon asked with a smirk. You looked at Rhaenyra once you felt a nudge in your side and realized he was talking to you, nodding your head as you smiled even if you didn't recall the friendship between yourself and the princess "Rhaenyra has been very helpful with helping me and my day-to-day basics." Having even been spending more time with Viserys as he helped reteach you everything you did before since he had grown to like your way best even if others had an issue with it "She and Viserys have been teaching me about the Targaryen family tree apparently I use to be able to say everyone in order with no mistakes."

Daemon nodded at your words with a soft smile. "I'm glad to see you have company. And the knowledge of the family tree will certainly come with time. You are my wife after all." Daemon said, his voice dripping with flirting even in the presence of his family. He gave you a kiss upon the hand then turned to Rhaenyra. "Keep a close eye upon her and keep her safe." Daemon told Rhaenyra, the tone in his voice a more sincere one. He felt comfortable knowing you were in Rhaenyra's care. You nodded your head feeling good that everyone seemed happy with your progress even if you were still missing so much of your life, watching him closely before pulling your hand away from him as Rhaenyra nodded her head at his words almost offended that he would think she'd let anything happen to you. The two women started walking away as Rhaenyra led you to the gardens feeling the quiet might help as you bit down on your lower lip and looked over at Rhaenyra "Can I ask you something? it's about Daemon himself."

Rhaenyra raised an eyebrow at your request but she shrugged. "Yes, of you course you may." She said with an open smile, curious as to what curiosity you may ask of her. Daemon, as usual, was also listening in on this conversation. He wanted to know what you wanted to know of him. Maybe it was something he could use to slowly get you back on track to remembering him. Sighing but nodded your head happy that the princess had been nothing but easy-going as she helped you remember things, looking down at the ground as you tried to piece your words together before shrugging your shoulders as the words tumbled out past your lips "I've heard...unsavory things about Daemon, that he's quite a brute and has done unspeakable things....is that true?".

Rhaenyra thought for a moment, unsure of how much to tell you. Daemon was her best friend, but he was also her uncle. She did not know how to answer your questions, because honestly, they weren't completely false. Rhaenyra looked for a way to answer without making Daemon seem like a terrible person. "Daemon can be very stubborn." Rhaenyra started, "Sometimes he let's his anger get the best of him. But that's only when he is pushed too far. But what is most important, is that he loves you." Rhaenyra said. You nodded with a small pout on your lips at the answer thinking it over as you recalled some of the things Daemon had done from what you've heard, looking over at the blonde woman again as you shrugged your shoulders at her words "How did we even get together? it sounds like we're nothing but polar opposites, how do he and I even work together in marriage?" Having been too embarrassed and shy to go to Daemon with these questions even if he would be the best person to answer them.

"You two have always been very different, but that's what has drawn you two together." Rhaenyra said with a smile. She believed it too, the differences in Daemon and you were what created the bond between you two. "He may be quite gruff, but he has the softest spot in the Kingdom for you." Rhaenyra said, hoping the words would make you feel better. They were true, Daemon loved you in a way he loved no one else, not even Rhaenyra or his brother Viserys. You slowly nodded along as you listened closely to the words feeling like you were listening to a fariytail, feeling your eyes sting with tears at the thought of Daemon being so tender and you couldn't remember any of it you let out a soft sigh, and nodded your head feeling determined "I want to remember, I'm gonna need more stories about him."

Rhaenyra chuckled at your need for stories which she was not opposed to. "You'll definitely need to remember your wedding to Daemon." She said with enthusiasm. "It was the grandest affair ever. What else do you want to know?" Rhaenyra asked, eager at the idea that your memory might return soon. "I would be more than happy to share anything you want to know." She continued, with a smile on her face. She believed that Daemon deserved to have you back at least. During the next few weeks, You had been learning more about your life and your marriage with Daemon even going as far as to show him small bits of affection, slowly but surely you began to push other's help away wanting to do things for yourself and show you could do it again but kept growing curious as to small gifts for you or being shocked by grand plans before learning it was from Daemon which caused you to seek him out.

Daemon was happy that you were showing him small bits of affection. He knew he would have to earn your love all over again but small touches were good. As you grew curious of gifts and grand plans Daemon was only too glad to tell you whom was behind them. He felt you were beginning to return to him bit by bit, and he wanted nothing more. Daemon felt at ease when you were back with him, and you were beginning to spend more time with him and less time away. It gave Daemon a new sense of hope. You had thanked Dameon for all the sweet and tender gestures he had been giving or showing you, which you found hard to keep the butterflies in your stomach under control but had been doing well as you were still learning more and more only getting curious about certain things but had been spending more time with Rhaenyra and Viserys both of which only now continued talking Daemon up even as you joined Rhaenyra late into the night talking about most things.

Daemon was over the moon to see that little by little you were remembering him and your life with him. He was always so cautious about his love, but as of late Daemon had felt nothing but comfort and happiness when with you. His smiles had become much more frequent. You were back in his life and Daemon was thankful for it. It was the small things that Daemon noticed, seeing how you would speak with confidence, laugh a little more freely, it all added up in his mind. He was on the verge of getting you back. He was certain of it. You rested your head against your arms listening to Rhaenyra speak about all different things, feeling your curiosity grow at mention of something that sounded familiar to you and asked about it which caused the blond princess to explain in detail that it was something connected to Daemon and yorself. Letting out a sharp gasp as your eyes shut tightly and you held your head as the pain from when this all started seemed to be the worst you had ever dealt with even as the blond princess tried asking if you were alright only taking a few minutes before nodding your head as you stood up with no explanation going back to the chambers you once shared with Daemon and opened the door as you stood there shocked and tears in your eyes softly whispering.

"I remember."

[bupia]

Treasure hunt: Papa Emeritus IV x AFAB!Reader

Summary: It's Christmas, and Copia won't be returning home this evening. However, he thoughtfully left you a note. What surprises might it hold?

Words: 10.152

Warnings: The Italian nicknames used by Copia has no gender, however the reader is AFAB | Smut (Copia is slightly dom; teasing; dirty talk; cunnilingus; fingering; unprotected sex; p in v; breeding) | Swearing | Italian swearing

Available on AO3

Primo (ao3) | Secondo (ao3) | Terzo (ao3)

Author's note: This is the Last day of the series XXXMAS AT THE MINISTRY, a Collaboration with @copias-sewer-rat @ghulehunknown and @molly-ghuleh, read their works too. I wanted to let you know that I'll be taking a short break after the Holidays as I'm currently engrossed in a work project. Don't worry, I'll be back soon. Wishing you all a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!

"What do you mean you're not coming?" you questioned with disappointment and confusion, pacing back and forth in your room.

"Amore," Copia sighed from the other end of the line. "Per favore, mi dispiace."

"But everyone's already here," you pointed out, worry evident in your voice. "Copia, you said..."

"I know," he responded. "And it kills me that I'm stuck here for reasons even I can't understand. They don't even need me anymore."

"What have you been doing there?"

"Nothing. The clergy insists the Papa Emeritus stays and observes some proceeds for the upcoming New Year's Eve ritual until it's all done, so I watch and do nothing more," he expressed his frustration, and you could almost hear him running a hand through his hair. "I just want to see you; I miss you so much."

"I miss you too. A lot..."

"I miss you immensely, amore mio," Copia confessed with a melancholic tone. "I miss your kisses, your smile, your laughter, your touch, your body..." The last word lingered, emphasized as if he were savoring the memory. "I even miss your beautiful nose."

"My nose?" you chuckled, sitting down on the edge of your bed. "What does that even mean?"

"I don't know! I just know that you are perf—" His words were abruptly cut off, and he fell silent. "Amore, I need to go now. I wish I could talk to you a little longer. I really missed your voice throughout the day."

"I missed yours too," you admitted, a tinge of longing in your tone. "What should I do now if you won't make it for dinner?"

"Amore mio," he said with a gentle tone. "There's just one thing that can be done now; you will enjoy the Christmas dinner you put so much effort into." he sighed, frustration evident.

"Ok..." you replied with a touch of sadness in your voice. "But promise me you'll be here tomorrow."

"I promise," he assured, "I'll make it up to you, amore mio. Ti amo così tanto."

"I love you too," you whispered

And then, he ended the call with a series of soft kissing sounds, a distant echo of the warmth you longed for. You sighed, holding the phone away from your ear, absorbing his kisses that felt both comforting and painfully distant. Copia hadn't been this occupied in a long time, and it was Christmas Eve of all days. Both of you had anticipated his return for the holidays, expecting him to be at home with you.

Frustration bubbled up within you as you glanced around the room. Helplessness settled in, and there was nothing you could do but yearn for Copia's presence. Rising from the bed, you adjusted your clothes, took a deep breath, and walked purposefully to the bedroom door.

With a gentle push, you opened the door, ensuring it closed quietly behind you. The echoes of your footsteps resonated as you retraced your path back to the dining room of the Papal Apartment. As you moved through the rooms, you couldn't help but appreciate the festive decor. At least he had taken the time to help you decorate.

"So?" Terzo inquired as you reentered the dining room, slipping his phone back into his blazer pocket.

"He won't make it," you revealed, a touch of melancholy lingering in your voice, veiled by a faint attempt at a smile.

"What do you mean he won't make it?" Secondo asked, topping off his wine. "What's going on?"

"He mentioned the clergy is keeping him there," you explained.

Terzo grumbled, "Gruppo di vecchi, rabbiosi idioti. What now? Why can't they let him have a break?"

"I..." you sighed, moving toward the table. "I don't know."

"It's still Christmas," Primo chimed in. "I believe Copia would want us to celebrate together. We can still have our dinner."

Terzo rolled his eyes dramatically. "Well, it wouldn't be a proper holiday without the clergy complicating things, sì?"

Secondo, his annoyance palpable, grumbled, "This is ridiculous. What are we supposed to do without him? It's Christmas Eve!"

Primo, chimed in once again, with a gentle smile. "We can still make it special. Copia would want us to enjoy the evening together."

You nodded. "Yeah, you're right."

"So, what's the plan now?" Terzo quipped, his tone laden with sarcasm as he eyed the table. "Shall we stage a satanic reenactment of the Last Supper without our fratello?"

Secondo grunted, clearly irritated. "Stai zitto, Terzo. But he is right, Christmas dinner without him? Doesn't feels right."

"I agree with Primo. I doubt he'd want us to do not enjoy the dinner while he's stuck there," you murmured, your sadness bubbling to the surface.

Terzo smirked, pouring himself another glass of wine, "Maybe we can send him a virtual plate. I'm sure the clergy wouldn't mind that."

"Terzo..." Primo sighed, rolling his eyes in Terzo's direction. "We can, at the very least, set aside some leftovers for him," he suggested. "A Christmas meal will be waiting for him when he finally returns."

You managed a weak smile. "I just wish he could be here."

Terzo sighed, looking at you. He made his way to your direction and placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. "Guess those unholier-than-thou vecchi need him to bless their turkey with a side of devilish charm or something."

Your gaze shifted to Terzo, and a laugh escaped you. He responded with a warm smile, exchanging the hand on your shoulder for a gentle touch on your face.

"Thank you," you said, with gratitude.

Terzo nodded appreciatively and turned away, taking his place at the table. "Can't let this food go to waste, can we? Mangiamo, sto morendo di fame."

With that, the four of you took your seats at the table. Though the absence of Copia cast a shadow over the celebration, the presence of Primo, Secondo and Terzo, eased the melancholy. After all, they had all made their way to the Ministry for this special occasion, and you felt a sense of responsibility not to let the festive spirit dwindle.

Secondo, in particular, had regaled the gathering with stories of meticulously crafting a turkey recipe he discovered in some book. Meanwhile, Terzo, had taken charge of the wine selection, claiming he didn't trust his brothers to make the right choices. Primo, had taken it upon himself to prepare cranberry sauce for the occasion. He proudly revealed that he had been cultivating cranberries in his house throughout the year, patiently waiting for this moment.

The four of you began serving yourselves. However, each time you glanced to your side, the empty seat served as a poignant reminder of Copia's absence. The realization that he wouldn't be home, sharing in the Christmas dinner, weighed heavily on your heart. The inexplicable demands of the clergy, only made it challenging to fully embrace the joy of the occasion.

However, your melancholic thoughts were momentarily interrupted when Secondo extended his arm towards you, pointing to the cranberry sauce placed in front of you. You looked at his hand and took the bowl, passing it to Secondo with a warm smile on your lips.

Primo began, leaning back in his seat. "It's good to have the family reunited. We haven't seen each other that much," he remarked, lifting his glass of wine for a sip. "Especially now that we're not tied up at the Ministry."

"Vero," Secondo agreed, his gaze briefly drifting to the empty seat. "Miss those times, even if they were chaotic."

Terzo, with a smirk, added, "Chaos and all, it was our chaos."

"Sì," Primo nodded, his expression softening. "But, at least we can enjoy Christmas without worrying about being summoned for some arcane ritual or paperwork."

Terzo raised his glass. "To getting a break."

The glasses chimed together in a harmonious toast, and each of you savored a sip of your drinks. Setting the glasses down on the table, you all returned to your meals, continuing to enjoy the Christmas feast.

Primo, his eyes sparkling with mischief, broke the silence. “Remember the time when we were younger and we decided to give the Ministry a taste of our version of Christmas caroling?”

Terzo grinned, a twinkle in his eye. “Ah, the ‘Satanic Carolers’ ensemble. Our renditions of classic carols with a satanic twist."

"And who can forget Terzo's attempt at caroling?" Secondo added, sharing a knowing look with Terzo.

Terzo rolled his eyes. "My rendition of 'Jingle Bells' was avant-garde."

“Of course,” Secondo replied with a touch of irony. “Truly groundbreaking.”

“What? You don’t appreciate my avant-garde style?” Terzo asked, turning his face to look at Secondo, who couldn’t help but burst into laughter.

Primo and you joined Secondo in laughter, and even Terzo, unable to resist the infectious moment, started to chuckle. With that, the four of you continued with the dinner, savoring the food and exchanging conversations filled with laughter.

Although Copia's absence lingered, the presence of his brothers somehow eased your melancholic thoughts, creating a sense of warmth. The only wish lingering in your mind was for Copia to be home tomorrow, sharing a Christmas lunch with the family.

As the hours slipped away, you all gradually set aside your plates, leaning back in your seats to savor a moment of contentment. Eventually, the four of you to rise and initiate the post-dinner cleanup. Plates and remnants of the feast were gathered, and you moved together to the kitchen.

Side by side, you worked on organizing the leftovers into the refrigerator and washing the dishes. The clatter of plates and the hum of conversation filled the kitchen. Once the tasks were completed, you four returned to the living room, reconvening around the dining table for more conversation and shared wine.

"I just want to thank you all for coming," you expressed with gratitude, a warm smile accompanying your words.

"You don't have to thank us," Primo replied warmly. "You're family now."

"It was great to have you planning this dinner for us," Terzo added.

"That's true, we appreciate it," Secondo acknowledged, taking a contemplative sip of his wine. "Should we get going now?"

Primo nodded ever so slightly, a warm smile playing on his lips. "Sì, we should be on our way," he suggested.

"Certo," Secondo concurred. "And thank you for the dinner," he added.

As Secondo and Primo spoke, the four of you gracefully made your way toward the entrance of the Papal Apartment. As you reached the door, you took hold of the doorknob, turning it to open the door for them. The trio stepped out into the hallway, turning to face you.

"Thank you all for coming and staying; I'm sure Copia would have enjoyed it."

"Non preoccuparti," Secondo reassured. "We'll be back for lunch tomorrow, sì?"

"I hope so; there's still an abundance of food left."

"We'll be here," Primo said, gracefully taking your hand and pressing a tender kiss onto the back of it. "Buona notte."

"Good night, Papa," you replied.

"Buona notte," Secondo nodded with a subtle gesture of farewell.

"Good night," you said, a warm smile lighting up your face.

"Buona notte. Don't forget to store the wine correctly for tomorrow," Terzo reminded.

"Of course, I wouldn't forget."

"Bene, molto bene," Terzo nodded, beginning to walk away. However, he paused, turned back to you, and walked in your direction. "I almost forgot," he said, placing his hand in his pocket and extending a neatly folded piece of paper to you. "That's from Copia. Buona fortuna."

Turning away, Terzo rejoined his brothers who were a few steps ahead. Clutching the neatly folded paper in your hand, you closed the door with a measured touch, your brows knit in anticipation. Walking towards the bedroom, you unfolded the paper with a sense of intrigue.

Upon reaching the bedroom, you paused in your steps, entering with a focused gaze fixed on the paper in your hands—Copia's handwritten note. As your eyes traced the lines, you began to read.

As you read these words, Terzo has faithfully passed on this message to you. No need to worry, everything's fine. Remember the first time we bumped into each other at the Ministry? I was immersed in preparing the altar for the mass when you graced me with your presence. Well, head back there. A little surprise awaits you. Yours always, Copia

What was this? What could Copia possibly mean with this note? A treasure hunt crossed your mind, and a laugh escaped your lips at the whimsical idea. Regardless, there was no time to linger on speculation. Your focus sharpened as you realized you needed to reach a specific destination—the Chapel.

Exiting your bedroom with hurried steps, excitement bubbled within you at the prospect of what awaited in the chapel. Could it be Copia? Probably wasn't, as he wasn't at the Ministry, and he wouldn't have skipped the Christmas dinner if he were. As you reached the front door of the Papal Apartment, you swung it open with a sense of urgency. The door closed behind you, and with purposeful strides, you made your way towards the chapel.

As you stepped into the chapel, the familiar scent of incense enveloped you, evoking memories of that first meeting. You still remember it—carrying Terzo's robes, you had entered to find Copia near the altar. He was still a Cardinal back then, and you were merely another sibling of sin toiling diligently within the Ministry. On that day, your paths crossed for the first time. Copia, in his red Cardinal robes, had glanced up as you entered. And for a moment your eyes met, and a subtle understanding passed between you—an unspoken connection.

Looking around the chapel, you felt a moment of uncertainty, you pondered where to go. However, as your gaze shifted towards the altar, a nostalgic sight caught your eye—the old red biretta that Copia used to wear. A bright smile illuminated your face as recognition dawned. You quickly made your way toward the altar, guided by the familiar presence of his cardinal hat.

Reaching for the altar, you delicately cradled the biretta in your hands, feeling the texture of its well-worn fabric. Softness filled your eyes as you gazed at the cardinal hat, a symbol of Copia's past. Nostalgia washed over you as you thought about the times when Copia was the Cardinal. There was a certain amusement in witnessing him in those distinctive red robes. It wasn't that you weren't proud of his role as Papa Emeritus IV; it was just the appreciation for the unique charm he exuded in his earlier cardinal days.

While appreciating Copia's biretta in your hands, you almost overlooked another folded paper hidden beneath it. Gently placing the cardinal hat back on the altar, you retrieved the concealed note. Unfolding it, your eyes were met with yet another message from Copia.

You know, I carry the memory of that day with me in my heart. It's impossible to forget. When our eyes met, it was as if time itself surrendered, leaving just you and me in this unholy Ministry, breathing and existing in the moment. We didn't exchange words back then. You were busy with your tasks, and I had my own to tackle. Yet, I have a confession to make—I was dying to hear your voice. Can you recall where we finally had our first conversation? With love, Copia

Finishing the note, you couldn't contain the excitement that had taken hold of you. Biting your lower lip, you pondered whether to take the biretta with you as a tangible connection to Copia. However, a decision was made to leave it on the altar, preserving the memory of your shared moments within the chapel.

As you walked away from the altar, your steps guided you toward the front door of the chapel. Exiting, you embarked on your way back to the place where your initial conversations with Copia had unfolded—the cafeteria.

The first conversation with Copia might not have been a grand affair, but it held a charm of its own. On that day, a lighthearted encounter in the cafeteria set the stage for a connection that would deepen over time.

It was a morning like any other, as you queued up to grab your breakfast. Unbeknownst to you, Copia entered the line right after you, standing behind. The comical twist came when both of you reached for the last juice box simultaneously, your hands meeting in the process. With a shared chuckle, Copia secured the juice box and extended it to you in a gentle gesture. However, you playfully declined, insisting he had reached for it first. It was a simple exchange marked by a twist of routine, as the juice box wasn't your first morning choice. But at this morning, for some reason, it was.

Entering the deserted cafeteria, your gaze was drawn to a familiar spot. Heading towards the food line, you spotted Copia's Cardinal gloves neatly placed, accompanied by a lone juice box. Placing your hand on top of the gloves, you ran your fingers over the lather textured fabric, and to your surprise, a slight sound echoed. Curiosity piqued, you picked up one of the gloves, discovering a folded paper tucked inside. Retrieving the concealed note, you unfolded it, eager to unveil the next message Copia had left for you.

Your voice, it's like the sweetest melody I've ever known. And when you laugh, it's like a warm embrace for my heart. I want you to know how much I cherish that moment when you chose that juice box on that fateful day, and your generosity in leaving it for me didn't go unnoticed. So now, I'm saving one just for you. Our talk that day may not have been long, but little did we know, it would set the stage for more conversations between us. We became friends, and over time, I found myself falling in love with you. And then, summoning every ounce of courage, I finally told you about my feelings. Do you still recall that day? Do you remember where I bared my heart and told you I loved you? Don't forget the juice box, Copia

A chuckle escaped you as you finished reading the note, and you couldn't help but be amused by Copia's playful hints. Reaching for the juice box, you deftly removed the straw from the back, unwrapping it before inserting it into the box. Taking a sip, a smile played on your lips as memories flooded back. The taste of the juice box held a unique significance, as his kisses, sometimes tasted like the very juice you were sipping.

Yet, this wasn't the time for sentimental reflections. Pushing aside those emotions, you took a deep breath and made your way out of the cafeteria, heading towards the next destination—the hallways. But not just any hallway, a specific one, guided by the clues Copia had left for you.

As time passed, the bond between you and Copia deepened. Your moments together became more frequent, and you discovered comfort in each other's presence. Sneaking into his Cardinal's cabinet became a routine, a chance to share the day, whether in conversation or in peaceful silence. In those quiet moments, the ease between you two reassured you that there was nothing to worry about.

The day Copia confessed his love for you was entirely unexpected. The two of you were strolling down the hallway en route to the library, where Copia needed to organize some archives. You offered him a helping hand, even though you were fairly certain he didn't require any assistance. Surprisingly, he accepted your offer.

As you walked together, a comfortable silence settled between you. The rhythmic sound of your synchronized footsteps echoed through the empty corridor. Suddenly, out of nowhere, his voice broke the silence, uttering three words that initially took a moment to register. After a brief pause, your mind comprehended—Copia had just said, "I love you."

And just as Copia had fallen in love, so had you.

Approaching the spot in the hallway where Copia had confessed his love, you noticed a folder lying on the floor. Bending down to retrieve it, you discovered a paper tucked inside. Pulling out the note, you unfolded it, eager to read the words wrote by Copia, perhaps offering another clue in the unfolding mystery of this treasure hunt.

The confession just burst out of me, guided by an overwhelming desire to shout my love to the world. I thought I might regret it, but to my surprise, I didn't—never have. The day I confessed my love was also the day I kissed you. Though, regrettably, it didn't happen right then. Just as I spilled my feelings, some siblings showed up, and we hastily made our way to the library. The ensuing silence was the most agonizing I've ever endured in your presence. Saying "I love you" without hearing it back left me sweating beneath my cassock. Yet, when we finally left, you spoke those words at the very spot where we had our first kiss. Can you recall where that was? We're almost at the end of this little game, and your gift awaits there. I love you. I love you more than words can express. I wish I could whisper those three words to you every minute of my day, Copia

Taking a deep breath, you leaned against the cold marble wall in the hallway, feeling its chill against your back. That day, and the kiss you both shared, are etched in your memory. When he uttered those three words, your heart threatened to burst, and the inability to reciprocate immediately left you in a momentary desperation.

From that moment onward, not a day passed without both of you expressing your love for each other. Stepping away from the chilly wall, you eagerly headed towards the place where your love story began—the Cardinal's cabinet.

After leaving the library that day, both of you carried archives in your hands, enveloped in a shared silence. The synchronicity of your steps faltered, as his pace quickened, and you hurriedly followed him down the hallway to his cabinet. And as you both entered the cabinet, Copia remained silent, almost as if he were anticipating something.

As you closed the door behind you and confessed your love, Copia turned towards you, drawing his face closer, almost reaching the point of a kiss. Perplexingly, he paused, perhaps awaiting a cue. In your impatience, you closed the gap before he could, and both of you let the archives fall to the floor, embracing each other passionately.

Standing in front of his old cabinet's door, uncertainty lingered about whether it would swing open. You reached for the doorknob and found it unexpectedly open. Pushing it open, you stepped into the now vacant space, a testament to his transfer to Papa's office.

Looking around the room, nothing immediately caught your eye. Wandering around, you systematically checked every nook and cranny, rifling through drawers and inspecting empty shelves. The note remained elusive. It wasn't until you halted beside his table and glanced towards the door that you spotted the note, suspended by a piece of tape.

You placed the empty juice box on the top of his old desk, hurrying to the door with a smile. You took the note and unfolded it, eager to read the note left for you.

When those three words finally escaped your lips, an irresistible urge propelled me to kiss you immediately. Yet, a fleeting doubt crossed my mind—was it a reciprocation or a repetition? However, as you closed the gap and our lips met, I understood, and the taste of that kiss is etched in my memory. We shared numerous kisses within the Ministry, especially in this cabinet. One night, you lingered with me until the late hours. I wrapped up my work, and just like any other day, I planted a goodnight kiss on your lips. However, that kiss took an unexpected turn, leading us somewhere else. In that place, we became one. Your gift awaits there, Copia

Opening the door to his old cabinet, you swiftly exited, closing it behind you with determination. Without a second thought, you knew it was time for your last stop—his old chambers.

The night referenced in the note held the memory of the evening you and Copia shared a heated kiss—an unforgettable moment when neither of you wanted to part. The unspoken desire lingering in that kiss set the stage for what felt like an inevitable path towards spending your first night together. Copia, sensing the shared passion, asked if you wanted to accompany him to his chambers.

Without hesitation, you accepted. As you both entered his chambers, your lips were already engaged in a fervent kiss. The desire between you two was palpable, prompting a delicate dance of undressing without breaking the kiss. As you both managed to shed your clothes, each second of separation filled with a longing that only intensified the desire.

On that night, as the note exposed, you and Copia became one. And it proved to be one of the most memorable and intimate nights you had ever shared with someone.

Approaching the door to his chambers, a soft glow of candlelight seeped through the narrow gap underneath. Your hand reached for the doorknob, and as you opened the door, the room revealed itself bathed in the gentle illumination of flickering candles. The ambiance was serene, with nothing out of place except for the impeccably made bed.

Stepping inside, you closed the door behind you, enveloping the room in a sense of intimacy. A warm smile graced your lips as you took a moment to survey the familiar surroundings. It had been a while since you last set foot in this space—since Copia ascended to the role of Papa Emeritus and subsequently moved to the Papal Apartment, inviting you to join him.

Approaching his neatly made bed, you noticed the final folded paper resting on top. Picking it up, you unfolded it with anticipation, ready to read the last message that Copia had left for you.

You, the most sinful creation molded by the skilled hands of our Dark Lord, leave me utterly enchanted. Every nuance of your body, every inch, every fragment, fuels an ever-growing love within me. It's almost surreal to think that Satan himself could have blessed me with you, but I express gratitude to him daily. This place holds the memories of our first time and countless others. It's where you truly became mine, and I became yours. I brought you here with the simple desire to reclaim you as mine once again. I promised you a gift, didn't I? So, why don't you turn around?

Finishing the note, you raised your head and turned your body, only to find Copia on his knees right behind you. A sweet smile adorned his face as he extended his hand toward you. Your heart skipped a beat at the sight of him, and you bit your lower lip to contain the emotions welling up within you.

Extending your hand to meet his, Copia delicately held it, placing a tender kiss on the back and brushing his nose against it. As he lifted his head to meet your gaze, parting his lips.

"We've been together for so many years," he began, his words laced with sentiment. "Countless memories, myriad places, and an abundance of moments that have woven our lives together. You've been the constant flame that has illuminated my heart, making each moment brighter and more meaningful. Your love has become the sacred devotion that binds me to you," with another tender kiss on the back of your hand, he continued, "I brought you here today because I want to recommit myself to you, to reclaim you as mine. And no, amore mio, I'm not talking about the physical aspect. Would you honor me with the privilege of marrying me?" he asked, his gaze sincere and filled with love.

"W-What?" you stammered, your eyes widening in surprise. "What did you just say?"

He took a deep breath, his gaze shifting nervously. "I asked you if you want to... Eeh..." As he started to stand up from his knees, uncertainty painted his expression. "I- I... Maybe it's too soon, sì?" he questioned, his voice laced with a hint of self-doubt.

A stunned silence enveloped you as you processed what had just transpired—Copia had just proposed. Lost in your thoughts, you suddenly felt his hands gently touching your face, cupping it, and turning it towards him. Your eyes locked, and in that intimate gaze, you could discern a subtle tremor in his usually composed demeanor.

"Copia..." you whispered, your voice soft as you closed your eyes.

"S-Sì?" His response held a hint of anticipation and nervousness.

"It's not too soon," a smile graced your lips as you opened your eyes, meeting his gaze. "You don't have to ask me twice; of course, I'll marry you."

"Vita mia..." he whispered, drawing his face closer to yours, hovering just inches away, teasing with the possibility of a kiss. "Are you attempting to assassinate your Papa at Christmas?"

You laughed, shaking your head gently. "Never," you replied. "You simply caught me off guard."

"Isn't that how marriage proposals should be?" he inquired, tilting his head, his thumbs tenderly caressing your cheeks.

"I guess?" you smiled, your gaze moving from his eyes to his inviting lips.

“I'm sure of it, amore,” he whispered, his lips brushing the corner of yours, "So, do your Papa get his Christmas kiss now, or should he expect for a mistletoe?"

You grinned, your eyes twinkling mischievously. “How about both?” Your lips hovered closer, the temptation growing with each passing moment. "Although I don't have a mistletoe with me right now..."

With a nearly imperceptible nod, Copia closed the lingering distance between you. His lips finally united with yours in a romantic, unhurried kiss, steeped in both longing and devotion. His hands cradled your face with tenderness, while your own settled at his waist, fingers grasping his shirt with a touch of possessiveness.

The kiss unfolded with a deliberate slowness, a dance of passion free from the urgency of teeth and tongues. It spoke volumes of a love so profound that words paled in comparison. As the connection deepened, you found yourself surrendering to the moment, lost in its enchantment.

The gentle caress of his lips against yours sent a shiver down your spine. His touch, gentle yet firm, prompted your arms to wrap around his neck, drawing him nearer as his own encircled your waist, holding you close. The warmth of his body seeped into yours, creating a comforting heat. The rhythmic thud of his heart against your chest resonated in harmony.

The sweetness of his mouth lingered, fueling a desire for more. Your arms left his neck, trailing down his back, pulling him in closer. His response was an intensified kiss, his tongue delicately exploring the contours of your mouth.

The connection deepened, an electric current coursing through your body. It felt as if an invisible force tethered you two, compelling a response. Your lips parted, allowing an intricate dance of tongues to unfold. As the intensity peaked, you summoned the strength to pull away, your fingers gradually tracing a path with your fingertips from his back to his chest.

"Copia..." the velvety tone of your voice wrapped around his name.

"Sì, amore mio?" He responded, gently.

"When did you arrive here?" You traced your fingers along the contours of his chest, a playful smile dancing on your lips.

"Not a long time ago," he replied, his hands moving from your waist to your hips, drawing you in closer.

Your fingers toyed with the fabric around his neck, a mischievous glint in your eyes. "So you planned all of this?"

He hesitated for a moment before replying, "Euhh... Sì..."

A mock expression of anger crossed your face as you accused, "So you knew you'd be at the Ministry, and you lied to me!"

"Oh, amore mio," he chuckled, leaning his face closer to yours once again. "I wasn't certain about the exact time I'd arrive. I needed to be sure I could make it work. But It was a good reason to lie, sì?"

"How long have you been planning this?" you inquired in a soft tone.

Copia turned to you, the smile still gracing his face. “I’ve wanted to ask you this for a long time. Since I realized how you make my dark world brighter, and I can’t imagine myself with anyone else. I can't wait to spend the rest of my existence making you as happy as you make me."

"Copia, I'm already happy by your side," you murmured. "But, you know," you began, tracing circles on his chest with your fingertips, "you're not getting away with proposing without answering some important questions."

Copia grinned, his eyes twinkled with amusement as he looked at you. "Ask away, vita mia."

"Firstly," you said, feigning a serious tone, "how did you manage to plan all this without me catching a single hint? I thought I knew all your secrets."

Copia chuckled, his thumb gently caressing your hand. "A Papa Emeritus always has a few tricks up his sleeve."

"Nice answer," a giggle escaped from your lips. "Secondly, was this grand proposal plan your own masterpiece, or did your brothers offer their expert opinions?"

He chuckled, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "As much as I'd love to credit Primo, Secondo and Terzo with impeccable romantic taste, this plan was all mine. I wanted it to be special, just for us. However, they helped me to gain some time."

"They did what?" You laughed. "Smooth, Papa. Very smooth. Now, the last and most crucial question—did you rehearse your proposal lines in front of a mirror?"

"Oh!" Copia's expression shifted to a mockingly serious tone. "Absolutely not!" He followed it with a playful chuckle. "Eh, maybe just a little?"

You playfully narrowed your eyes at him. "A little?"

"Well, every great performance deserves a bit of rehearsal, sì?" Copia grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Vieni qui, amore mio," he gently pulled you closer, pressing your bodies together, and took your lips in another kiss.

This time, the kiss was deeper and passionate. Copia's touch ignited a fire within you. His hands explored your body with a hunger. Fingers traced sensuous patterns along your sides, dipped down to your hips, and returned to the curve of your waist. Copia's arms enveloped you, pulling you close as if he couldn't get enough of the taste, the touch, the essence of you.

As a soft moan escaped your lips, Copia's tongue danced with yours in a passionate exploration. Your arms tightened around his neck, and you responded eagerly, deepening the connection. Copia sighed into the kiss, his head tilting to intensify the intimate dance. Your tongues met in a heated battle, and he groaned against your lips.

Once again, Copia's hands roamed your body, trailing along your spine and tracing the contours of your curves. His touch was electric, sending shivers down your spine. Your bodies molded together seamlessly, and every sensation became a blur of pleasure. Copia's lips moved with a rhythm that matched the pounding of your heart.

The kiss intensified, and a symphony of moans, sighs, and the occasional purr resonated between you. Copia's breath mingled with yours, creating an intoxicating match of lust. The kiss became a fusion of desire and longing, that left you breathless and craving more.

But with a reluctant sigh, you summoned the strength to pull away—gasping for air. Your lips lingering for a moment longer before parting. The air crackled with the energy of the heated kiss, and Copia's eyes, still darkened with desire, met yours.

"S-Should we head upstairs...?" you inquired, your breath catching.

Copia's eyes, clouded with desire, met yours as he caught his breath. "As much as I'd love to, amore mio," he murmured, "I've missed you so much, and if we go upstairs, I won't be able to contain myself in the middle of the way."

You couldn't help but chuckle at his playful tone. "Oh, so you're saying you'd lose control?"

Copia's grin widened, his fingers tracing light patterns on your back. "Entirely. I'm just a Papa who's been missing his better half."

"So why don't you fuck me right here, on your own bed, like you've missed me so much?"

Copia's eyes deepened with desire, a wicked grin playing on his lips as he fixed his gaze on you. Mischief flickered in his mismatched eyes. "Are you absolutely certain about what you're asking?" he inquired, his voice taking on a husky tone.

"I'm well aware of what I'm asking for," you whispered, trailing your tongue from his lips to the tip of his nose.

"Cazzo, ti amo così tanto," he murmured with a voice heavy with desire.

Copia enveloped you in his arms, and you guided him towards his bed. Grasping the fabric around his neck, you pulled him with you until your calves met the mattress. Sensing it, you gradually descended, taking a seat on the edge of his bed. Copia positioned himself on his knees in front of you, maintaining an unwavering gaze. Without diverting his eyes, he initiated the task of undressing you, deliberately unhurried in his movements.

As he finished undressing you, leaving you only in your underwear, he planted a tender peck on your lips. "Don't move," he whispered, his voice carrying a hint of lustful anticipation.

Copia rose, beginning to work on unbuttoning his shirt, but he halted abruptly as you drew your face closer to his crotch, lightly brushing your lips against his evident bulge. You turned your attention to him, mouthing the undoing of his pants, causing Copia to inhale sharply, biting his lower lip. His hand found its way to your head, gently caressing your scalp, and he knelt in front of you once again.

Copia's eyes glinted with a playful intensity as he whispered, his voice tinged with lust, "You're behaving like a very naughty mischief-maker. I don't think Santa will give you a present this year."

A mischievous smile played on your lips as you reached up, cupping his face in your hand and gently caressing his cheek. "And what about you, Papa?" you asked, your tone a sultry invitation. "Will you give me a present?"

Copia's gaze held yours, a hint of desire dancing in his eyes. "Oh, amore mio," he replied, his voice a seductive murmur, "I have a present for you that Santa could never deliver."

He drew closer, pressing his face against your neck, initiating a series of kisses and gentle licks. In that moment, a rush of anticipation surged within you as he drew near. His lips sought yours in a kiss that blended gentleness with passion. His tongue traced the curves of your mouth, hinting at the pleasure yet to unfold. Eagerly, your lips parted, inviting him in, and a tantalizing dance ensued as your tongues entwined, orchestrating a sensuous tango that erased the world around you.

Your arms wrapped around him, pulling him closer, and you gracefully reclined on your back, maintaining the kiss without breaking its spell. Copia, crawled on top of you, his movements deliberate and confident.

His body seamlessly melding with yours in a flawless union. With each movement, the fabric of his clothes provided no resistance to the warmth of his skin. The linen material of his shirt glided between your bodies, generating a sensuous friction that intensified every touch and caress.

The weight of his body upon yours provided both comfort and arousa. Arching against him, you yearned for increased contact and friction. His hands delicately explored every curve and crevice of your body, leaving a lingering trail of electricity in their wake.

Breaking the kiss, he shifted his attention to nibble on your neck, the sensation of his stubble grazing against your sensitive skin sending shivers down your spine. His lips returned to yours, and as his hand descended, it cupped your ass, drawing you closer. The friction of his hardness against your mound became almost intoxicating. A moan escaped your lips, muffled by the intensity of the kiss as he deepened the connection.

The rhythm of his hips synchronized with the beat of your heart. His fingers skillfully navigated between you two, indulging in delicate touches on your thighs before ascending higher. His palm grazed your warmth through your underwear, eliciting a gasp that sent tickles of pleasure coursing through your body. Fingers tightly gripped his hair as you held him close, writhing beneath him, yearning for more of his intoxicating touch.

As if sensing your desires, Copia broke the kiss. "Amore mio, I want to feel you," his lips traced a tantalizing path along your jawline, nibbling your earlobe. "Do you want me to to make you cum, amore? Do you want me to make you scream my name?" His fingers deftly slid beneath the fabric of your underwear, gently stroking your clit, igniting a fire of sensation that left you breathless.

Eagerly nodding your head, your hips instinctively bucked, your core pulsating against his skilled fingers. Copia chuckled devilishly at your response. With your back arching, an unspoken invitation, he seized the opportunity, lifting you just enough to deftly slip off your underwear.

"You're so wet," he murmured. "I can feel how much you want me."

You could feel his hardness pressing against your thigh, and with a sense of urgency, you reached down to stroke him through his jeans. A deep groan escaped Copia's lips, the resonant sound vibrating through you, heightening the anticipation. Copia, attuned to your needs, returned his hand to your wetness, trailing his gloved fingers along your slit before skillfully sliding one finger inside of you. The sensation ignited a surge of pleasure, causing your inner walls to clench in response.

Moaning, you found it difficult to articulate words as Copia withdrew his finger from inside you, tracing a teasing path along your wet slit. The sensation left you aching for more. He slid one gloved finger inside you again, followed by another, filling you in a way that made your toes curl with pleasure. The initial slow and deliberate movements gave way to a faster, harder rhythm as he pumped his fingers in and out of you.

"Oh, fuck!" you gasped, grabbing his hand as it ventured between your thighs. "yes-yes-yes-yes! Just-Ah! Copia! Calm down, or you'll make me cum fast!"

"Calm down?" he inquired, his gaze filled with desire. "I'm perfectly composed, amore. Just doing as instructed, fucking you like I've been missing you."

Your moans intensified, head tossed back, hips gyrating against his hand. Introducing a third finger, he expanded you further, evoking a cry from your lips. Copia skillfully curled his fingers, striking your sweet spot, unleashing waves of pleasure that caused your eyes to roll back and your lips to part. Gripping his shoulders, you dug your nails into him as he persistently worked his fingers in and out of you.

"CoO-Oh-pia!" your voice quivered, your legs beginning to tremble. "Co...Co...Copia-Ah! Ple-Plea...Please!"

He instinctively lowered his body, withdrawing his fingers from you. Swiftly, his face moved between your legs, engulfing your essence with an eager pull, consuming every inch with his mouth. From the base to the summit and back down, he licked you in a rhythmic repetition. He repeated this motion over and over, sucking your clit as he did so.

"Oh, fuck!" you exclaimed, squeezing your eyes shut. "For the love of Satan, Copia!"

Copia chuckled against your wetness, then closed his eyes and placed his hands on your thighs, keeping them open for him. He persisted in licking and sucking, his tongue darting in and out, exploring every inch of your wetness. Advancing to your clit, he flicked it with the tip of his tongue before drawing it into his mouth once more.

Drawing his head back from your core, you gasped, feeling the absence of sensations. As you opened your eyes, you were met with his smudged face, the paint around his lips almost turning gray. Casting a mischievous glance at you, Copia darted his tongue out, licking your slit while locking eyes with you. The intense gaze prompted you to bite your lower lip in response.

"You're quite the sight, Copia," you teased.

"Trying to provoke me, amore?" he asked with a husky voice, lowering his face to your wetness once again, his lips grazing against your folds. "Ever heard that it's not polite to make fun of someone while they're enjoying their meal? Consider this my Christmas dinner. Don't tempt me too much, or you might find yourself the messy one here soon."

Wearing a devilish grin, he licked his lips, relishing the taste of you. Unable to resist, a smile played on your lips as you felt the warmth of his mouth against your core. Copia's eyes focused on your face, studying your features. Suddenly, a low groan escaped his lips, and he delved back into devouring your wetness with renewed enthusiasm. His tongue danced around your clit, prompting you to writhe in ecstasy. The fervor of his licks sent electric shocks of pleasure coursing through your entire body.

"C-Copia... I swear, you're going to make me cum..." you whimpered.

"No, I won't," he declared, withdrawing his head from your core. "Because you're only allowed to cum on my cock and with my cock inside you, capito?"

You nodded, and Copia smirked. Unexpectedly, he thrust his tongue inside you, skillfully swirling it around your walls. A whimper escaped your lips as pleasure surged through you. Your hips arched from the bed, and you ground your core against his face, sliding your clit up and down his nose. With one hand, you reached to grab his head, pressing it firmly against your core. Copia intensified his exploration of your wetness, rolling his eyes in pleasure, breathing warmly against your entrance. The sensation of his breath caused your legs to tremble.

You slid your hand to the top of his head, gently pulling it away as you shifted your hips back. Copia, undeterred, pulled you back towards him, gripping your thighs tightly. Leaving one hand on your thigh, he ventured with the other to your core, thrusting two gloved fingers inside you. A scream escaped your lips at the sensation of his fingers filling you, only to be followed by another cry as his thumb found your clit, skillfully rubbing it in circles, sending waves of pleasure that drove you wild.

"No! Oh, fuck!" you exclaimed, your breath coming fast. "Copia, please... you know I can't hold it if you do it like that."

Maintaining his fingers inside you, he gracefully positioned himself atop you, his face hovering above yours. His knees pressed against your legs, parting them for him. Your gaze met his, and he gently rested his forehead against yours. You tilted your face, capturing a tender kiss from his lips, all the while wrapping your arms around his neck.

"Don't play naughty, amore," he growled. "Behave, and you just might unwrap your present."

"P-Present...? Ah!" you gasped. "What present, Papa?"

"My cock, fucking you the way you like it," he whispered huskily.

He persisted, his fingers maintaining a steady rhythm as they moved in and out of you. Your orgasm was steadily building, and you could feel your juices flowing, coating his gloved fingers as they expertly maneuvered inside of you. A loud moan escaped your lips, prompting him to intensify the pace of his fingers, thrusting deeper and faster. The room echoed with the sound of his leather gloves sliding inside you, merging with the symphony of your breath.

This sent shockwaves of pleasure through your body, and you knew you were close, but Copia abruptly halted, withdrawing his fingers. A frustrated whimper escaped your lips, yearning for more, craving the continued touch.

"Please, don't stop," you begged, your voice quivering with desire.

Copia smirked, "You want more?"

"Yes..." you purred, "please."

Copia's smile deepened, his eyes filled with a mix of lust and mischief. "Not yet," he declared, his voice low. "I want to make it last."

His fingers traced a tantalizing path along your inner thighs, eliciting shivers of anticipation. Moving his hand between your legs, his fingers found your wetness once again. You instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, your breath now coming in short gasps.

"Stop teasing me," you pleaded. "I need your cock."

Copia grinned devilishly, his hands reaching for your legs as he pulled back, getting on his knees in front of you. "Do you, amore?" He went for his pants, starting to undo them, letting his length swing free. "You want my cock?" he asked, using his gloved hand—still coated with your juices—to stroke his member lazily.

"Yes!" you gasped, your eyes fixed on the glistening tip of his member. "Please, I ache for your cock inside me."

Copia bit his lower lip while stroking his length, the wetness on his palm audibly spreading along his arousal. He began to breathe heavily and closed his eyes. Sensing the charged atmosphere, you slowly slid your hand between your legs, teasing your clit with circular motions.

Trying to stifle your moans, you pressed your lips together and whimpered, observing him pleasing himself in front of you. Continuing to tease your clit, you couldn't resist any longer, sliding two fingers inside yourself. Arching your back, you moaned loud as you began thrusting them in and out, succumbing to the pleasure building within you.

Copia's voice reached your ears, prompting you to open your eyes. "What are you doing?" he inquired.

Your eyes locked onto Copia's, who had a look of pure satisfaction on his face. Seeing your own enjoyment reflected in his expression. You increased the pace, moving your fingers faster and deeper, the sensations becoming too much to handle. You could feel your body tingling with pleasure, and you knew that it was only a matter of time before you would succumb to the intense sensations.

"Why are you playing with my dinner?" He adopted a more serious tone, grabbing your hand to stop you.

"C-Copia..." you took a deep breath. "I just need... I need you..."

Copia sighed, shaking his head, skillfully guiding his member between your folds as he pulled your fingers out of your entrance. You instinctively moved your hips, as if craving more, attempting to adjust your entrance to the tip of his length. However, Copia halted you, placing a firm hand on your stomach and gently lowering your hips.

"No..." Copia murmured, firmly holding his member and delivering a teasing slap against your wetness, the sound resonating through the room. "Comportati."

Copia sensually brought your fingers to his mouth, licking and mouthing them with a moan that echoed softly. As his mouth closed around your fingers, his tongue skillfully contoured them, creating an arousing suction. Meanwhile, he increased the pace of his self-stimulation, moving his hips in a rhythmic thrust against his own hand. The tip of his member collided with your heat, expertly rubbing against your clit.

He pulled your fingers out of his mouth with a distinct "pop" sound and gave them a final lick, locking eyes with you. "Turn for me, amore," he commanded, tapping your waist.

Obediently, you turned your body, laying down on your stomach, but swiftly, Copia gripped your waist, pulling your hips up to meet his. The sensation of his member pressed against you ignited a fervent response, and you began to move your hips, stealing a glance at him behind you. Unperturbed, Copia started removing his gloves, an act that hinted at his effort to restrain himself.

As he peeled off his gloves, his bare hands reached for your hips, sensually caressing them. "So desperate for me, amore," he whispered. "I love it when you're like that."

"Please, Copia," you pleaded, your voice barely above a whisper. "I want you. Fuck me."

His eyes darkened with desire as he observed your hips moving against him. Biting his lip, he struggled to maintain control but succumbed to the overwhelming temptation. His hands found their way to your back, skillfully massaging away the tension from your muscles. The touch was firm yet gentle, sending a wave of pleasure coursing through you. His hand glided down the small of your back, cupping one of your ass cheeks in his palm.

"I want you too," his hands shifted to your hips, pulling them closer to him.

His hardness pressed more insistently against you as he drew himself closer. "Fuck me, Copia."

With a groan, Copia pressed his hardness against your entrance. You were so wet that he slid in easily, filling you completely with one thrust. A moan escaped your lips, your body arching back into him. Copia began to move slowly, savoring the sensation of being inside you. Your body felt like heaven, and he wanted to make the experience last as long as possible. His hands gripped your hips, holding you still as he moved within you.

Copia, his voice low and filled with a seductive rasp, whispered, "Feel the pleasure, my sinful muse, as our bodies intertwine," he smiled and began to move faster. "Like an offering to the darkness that binds us," he continued, slamming into you with each trust. "Every moan, every gasp, a hymn in the name our unholy communion on this unholy night."

You gasped at his words, gripping the sheets firmly as Copia picked up the pace, driving into you harder and faster. Each thrust sent a wave of pleasure through you, his length hitting your cervix repeatedly, delving deeper with every movement. He lowered his body on top of yours, reaching for your hands to hold them firmly. Pressing kisses on your cheek, he traced a path from there to your back, leaving a trail of sensation in his wake.

"Yes, Copia... Mmm... Copia," you purred, your eyes closing as you held his hand in a firm grip. "Oh, yes, just like that! You fuck me so good."

"You're so tight," he said, his voice husky with desire. "I can't help but fuck you harder."

Your bodies moved in unison, a dance of perfect harmony. His hips slammed against your ass cheeks, the rhythmic sound filling the room and intertwining with your shared breaths and moans. His hands left yours, he wrapped his arms around you, squeezing you firmly against him. The sensation of his hardness sliding in and out of you was incredible, and you were lost in pleasure, the loud moans that came out of your mouth became unable to control.

"Pap-Ahhh..." you moaned, your eyes fluttering in pleasure as you felt his steady rhythm, his member sliding in and out of your tightness with ease.

His thrusts quickened, the audible sound of flesh slapping against flesh growing louder. Copia released his arms from around you, straightening his body. Temporarily halting his thrusts, he moved his hands to his shirt, skillfully unbuttoning it. Turning your head to watch, you clenched your walls around him, the anticipation building as his body was slowly revealed. His hairy chest formed a trail of masculinity down to his happy trail, prompting you to bite your lower lip.

Fueled by lust, you seized control, slamming your hips against him and taking charge of the rhythm, fucking yourself on his length. Copia let out a guttural growl, tearing off his shirt and tossing it aside. His hands returned to your hips, and he watched you intently as you moved your hips against his.

"Sì, sì, sì," he moaned. "Sì-Ah! Amore mio, you're amazing, so perfect for me, so eager," his fingers digging into your skin. "So hot, so wet, so tight, so incredibly beautiful as you ride my cock."

His eyes brimmed with lust, the hunger evident in their depths. His hands on your hips guided your movements as he started to move his own hips against yours. Abruptly, he pulled back, eliciting a whimper of emptiness from you as your hips fell onto the bed. Rising from the bed, he swiftly pulled his pants down, leaving them discarded on the floor.

Copia returned to the bed, crawling on top of you. Lowering his face onto the top of your back, he pressed a tender kiss on your shoulder and cheek. "Are you ready to cum for me, amore?" he whispered, brushing his nose against your cheek.

Your eyes locked onto each other, a silent understanding passing between you as you nodded. Copia responded with a smirk, supporting his hands on the bed, lifting his body. Skillfully moving his hips, he adjusted his position behind you and effortlessly guided his member back inside you, delving even deeper.

The moment he entered you, your eyes rolled back in ecstasy. You felt his shaft stretching you to the limit, filling every inch of your body with his warmth. The sensation was overwhelming as he began to move inside you, each thrust sending waved of pleasure coursing through your veins.

"Make me cum," you purred. "And fill me with your cum, Papa."

Continuing his rhythmic motions, he clutched the sheets for leverage. You pressed your hips against him, mirroring the increasing intensity of his pace. Your body responded eagerly to the sensations he crafted. His breathing grew heavier, each exhale carrying a sense of urgency, and his movements became more intense and erratic.

"I'm going to cum, amore," he announced. "I'm going to fill your tight, warm pussy."

You could feel his member pulsing inside you, and then, with a final thrust, he released himself within you. The sensation of his seed filling you up sent you over the edge. Your body trembled as the waves of your orgasm washed over you. He collapsed on top of you, his weight pressing against you as you both caught your breath, your bodies shuddering in the aftermath of pleasure.

Copia delicately withdrew from your body, a lingering trace of his essence left behind. Reclining beside you, his body turned towards yours, he extended a gentle hand to stroke your cheek with his thumb. A weary smile adorned your face, and he leaned in, resting his forehead against yours.

With closed eyes, you slowly shifted towards him, seeking proximity. Copia encircled his arms around you, pulling you closer. His forehead parted from yours, planting a tender kiss on it. As you bit your lip, your eyes fluttered open, meeting his gaze with a mix of emotions.

"I love you," he declared, his eyes brimming with adoration.

"I love you more," you playfully countered.

"That's impossible, amore mio," he chuckled. "After all, it was I who proposed to you tonight, so that means I love you more."

"Does it?" you began, adopting a teasing tone. "But Copia, if you proposed to me, where's the... ring?" you chuckled.

"Uh... Eh!" With a confidant grin, he turned his back to you reaching for his pants on the floor, delving into his pants' pocket. He pulled it out with his hand closed, turning his body back to your direction. With a theatrical flair, he opened his hand, revealing the ring nestled in his palm. "Ta-da!" he exclaimed, a glint of triumph in his eyes.

A soft chuckle escaped you as you leaned in, pressing a lingering kiss onto his lips. Copia reciprocated by reaching for your hand, bringing it closer to his face and pressing a tender kiss onto the back of your hand. His touch was gentle yet deliberate as he delicately slipped the ring onto your finger. As the ring found its place, a radiant smile adorned his lips, and his eyes sparkled with joy as he admired the newly adorned hand.

"Well, I guess that means we're stuck with each other now," you said, a warm smile playing on your lips.

"Forever, amore," he whispered, his voice filled with a mixture of joy and affection. Leaning in for another kiss, he paused just before closing the gap.

Yearning for him to close the gap, your hand goes to his face, cupping his cheek as you stare at him. "What's wrong?"

His eyes sparkled with adoration as he caressed the back of your hand. He stared at you in silence for a moment, you can see his eyes tracing the features of your face “I'm really in love with you," a wide smile start to grew on is lips. "Merry Christmas, my soon-to-be forever partner."

And then, with that, Copia closed the gap between you two, capturing your lips in a kiss that was both sweet and slow. The taste lingered, carrying the feeling of the shared promise of forever.

Grammar

Amore (mio) - My love

Per favore, mi dispiace - Please, I'm sorry

Ti amo così tanto - I love you so much

Gruppo di vecchi, rabbiosi idioti - Group of old, grumpy idiots

Fratello - Brother

Stai zitto - Be quiet

Vecchi - Old

Mangiamo, sto morendo di fame - Let's eat, I'm starving

Vero - True

Sì - Yes

Certo - Certainly

Non preoccuparti - Don't worry

Buona notte - Good night

Bene, molto bene - Well, very well

Buona fortuna - Good luck

Vita mia - My life

Vieni qui, amore mio - Come here, my love

Capito? - Understood?

Comportati - Behave

[sourbinnie]

you lose your way | chan x gn!reader angst + fluff | just take my hand

chan didn't think he deserved your love at all. he thought he was destined to be alone forever but then het met you and he saw a bright future ahead of him, one that he never imagined. he felt completely and utterly comfortable being with you but the awful insecurity of not being enough or not doing showing the love he thinks you deserve haunted him. it felt like a shadow above him that followed at all times when he was at work, thinking that you got home from your job and you were all alone. 

why couldn't he be the boyfriend you deserved? why couldn't he just put in the effort and be there for you? always stuck somewhere else. with every comeback, every promotion, every song, every dance you were lingering on his mind there all alone. he was so exhausted every time he set foot in your shared apartment and he did not expect you to wait up for him but you always did. 

at one point he even felt like he had to end things because this wasn't healthy for either of you but what would he do without you? no motivation, no reason to continue a path that he didn't want to even think of. he felt trapped like he knew you were doing this out of kindness but why would you do that for nothing in return? the last time he kissed you properly was like a month ago.

maybe this was a signal for him to stop, to actually look around him and think of what he was doing. yet he always went back to work, he just couldn't be stopped from recording another track, writing lyrics (mostly about you) and practicing even more than what his body could take. 

"chris?" your voice got him out of his daydream/nightmare and he looked at you. you knew the password for his studio so he wasn't surprised about that but you looked like you just got out of work. "it's kinda late i'm sorry if i'm bothering but i wanted to know if you wanted to go home with me?".

"i don't know if i can love." he sighed as he looked back at his laptop again, writer's block was his biggest enemy. he knew he had the hability to put on some heart wrecking lyrics yet nothing was coming to mind. again another signal to stop maybe. "you can go home if you want and you don't have to stay up, i know you're tired."

"i don't mind waiting for you, you always carry me to bed anyways." you said, giving him a little smile as you sat down next to him. "can we talk baby?" you asked and if he wasn't scared before, he surely was now.

he expected this conversation to lead to the worst. he expected for you to leave him right then and there, after all he did not put effort at all into your relationship even if you were all he could think about. even if you lived in his mind rent free 24/7, he knew he would never be the boyfriend you were meant to have.

"yeah of course." he said as he looked at you, you grabbed his hands and that's where he felt everything was gonna go down. 

"you know you can talk to me, right? it's been a long time since we've had a proper conversation. i don't mind it really, i know you're busy but if it's too much you can always talk to me. i'll always have your back and i'll always hold your hand when you need me the most christopher." you said in a serious tone but with the kindest way. he couldn't help but feel the tears cloud his vision as he heard your words. "i believe in you and i love you. i know this is your way of proving your worth but you're much more than your job."

he wiped his eyes as he didn't want to make a fool of himself in front of you. he felt like he was gonna choke on his tears anytime soon but he took a deep breath and looked at you again, nodding. 

"i know. it's just been a lot lately and i know you deserve better." he said and you shook your head. "i know you're gonna say you're fine with it but how can you be fine with me not being there for you?"

"it's your job chris, i understand. you love it here and i love that you're passionate about it." you clearly said as you played with his hands and gave him another warm smile. "what kind of significant other would i be if i didn't let you enjoy what you have? it was your dream to be here." 

"but is it too much? i feel like i don't show you the love you deserve. i feel like i'm all you don't deserve." he said letting his feelings out once and for all. 

"there's no love i deserve that's not yours. i just want what you give me at the end of the day." you said, kissing his cheek and hugging him so he could let all the tears he needed out. "i know you're lost but i'm not letting go. i'm never gonna let go of you 'cause you're the only one."

the words pierced through his heart as he sighed and let all the tears fall from his eyes when you embraced him. he didn't feel okay, he knew he wasn't okay but something about you saying you're gonna be there for him forever just eased his heart. it eased his pain and sorrow as didn't want to let go of the hug because it was all he needed at the end of the day. for you to be there for him in such a way, meant the world to him.

[imagine-knowing-a-name]

In the Background - Chapter 4.5

Summary: You’ve been dating Natasha in secret since her early days in SHIELD, and you’ve been in the background of all her missions since.

Word Count: 5047

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Warnings: canon events (violence/death), occassional swearing.

A/N: I'll be focusing on a couple of other WIPs now this is done but then it's back to work on Chapter 5; feel free to send comments/questions about the series and I'll answer any I can 😌

Series Masterlist

Previous Part

—:::——::-————>◇<—————::——:::—

If only the Avengers didn't cause so much destruction, your life would be so much easier. You'd been staring at the screen for hours now, tracing leads, conducting damage assessments, and handling the repair efforts as best you could, so when Natasha called and you answered within the first ring? You'll blame that on your dull work life, definitely not just your eagerness to speak with the assassin.

It was only after answering the call that you thought to check the time - 10pm, just as you would usually begin to wind down for the night. You smiled, for someone who lived such a turbulent life, Natasha managed to maintain a remarkable consistency; she always tried to call at that time, no matter where she was in the world, to keep you company with late night talks and to wish a goodnight.

As soon as she greeted you tonight though, you knew you were in for something different.

“Y/L/N.”

“Romanoff.” It was a warning, of course, a system you'd agreed upon to protect your secret if others were around. Sure enough, when her camera flicked on, you were greeted to the sight of the Avengers milling around her.

“We have company,” she told you somewhat redundantly, as you were shown the visitors sitting around the Barton family's kitchen table, with Nick Fury standing at the head of it all.

“Evening, Director,” you said.

“Did you know too?” Tony scoffed, “he’s got both of you?”

“Just Maria,” Fury corrected, “but why put in the effort to hide it from Y/L/N?”

“Does anyone actually know my first name?”

“No.”

“We’ve got a lead on Ultron.”

“You have a plan?”

“I always have a plan,” the man scoffed, almost in disbelief that you'd asked such a question. “Hill’s helping me out, and I'm bringing Banner back too. As for you… Steve, Clint, and Natasha are off to Seoul. You wanna help your old team?” Fury smirked with an eyebrow raised; he knew your answer before you could give it, so you played into it by pausing and humming as if considering your options.

“I suppose I can help out,” you said at last, earning an eye roll from Natasha in the background, “I'm sure they really need me.”

Natasha came to the forefront of the image again and grabbed her phone back. “That's enough of that,” she said; you raised your eyebrows and smirked at her tone. You saw Clint react the same, though he tried to hide it.

“Go to bed, Y/N. We'll call in when we need you.” She hung up before you could comment on her use of your first name.

—:::——::-————>◇<—————::——:::—

“We have to be careful. If Ultron is here, he's not gonna like that we're here too. So stay hidden, stay vigilant, and I'll be right back.”

The suit cams were deactivated for this mission – something about Ultron picking up on the transmission frequencies, you weren't sure; all you did know is that it made your job harder. 

“Two minutes; stay close.” You assumed that they'd dropped Steve off.

Despite your statements the night before, you really weren't needed on the mission: Steve took mission lead, Natasha controlled tracking, and Clint flew the jet with no hesitations, all you were there for was backup, lest something go wrong.

Perhaps you thought too hard about that last point, jinxing the team with your belief that it would all run smoothly, but the plan collapsed almost instantly. Steve didn't direct his message to your group specifically, but looped you all into his conversation with Dr Cho.

Ultron knew they were there, he'd injured Cho, he had two superpowered twenty-somethings on his team, and he'd created a weapon beyond capabilities, something indestructible. Or, at least, he was in the process of making it; you still had a chance to stop its creation… silver linings.

“I've called for medical,” you said. That left Steve free to focus on the fight at hand, taking instruction from Natasha and Clint on where to find the metal man.

Clint, the eye in the sky, lived up to his codename by spotting it first: “There. It's a truck from the lab.” Steve clambered up and across the roads without hesitation, before a blast to the truck door almost blew him into moving traffic – at least it confirmed that Ultron could be found inside.

“Well, he's definitely unhappy. I'm going to try to keep him that way.”

“You're not a match for him, Cap.”

“Thanks, Barton.”

With Steve in the fray, you had to take command once again; your position away from the fight gave you the best overview with which to form a plan, and access to all angles of sight.

You only saw one way forward: “Natasha, you need to get into the fight. Steve can't get the cradle like this, so make the most of the distraction he's providing.

“Never thought I'd see you giving me orders.”

You didn't need cameras to picture the smirk on her face, you just knew it was there in the same way you knew that, despite her talk back, she would be following your instructions.

“A real role swap, I know,” you deadpanned, “now get on your bike.”

Was it essential for Natasha to ship her motorbike with her to every destination? No. Had you questioned her on it countless times? Yes. Did it occasionally come in useful? Unfortunately yes, but that was an answer that you would never admit to her face.

“We've got a window!” Clint took over, flying low to the ground so that Natasha could disembark, “Four, three…give ‘em hell.”

From then on, you could only do so much to keep track of all the agents, so Clint took charge of directions, watching from above to keep Natasha on the right track, while you monitored the truck's ever changing location. The roles eventually aligned as Natasha came up alongside the truck, throwing Steve's shield up to restore his upper hand in the fight.

Ultron could fight a battle on two fronts though; after being knocked down by Cap, he pulled a chunk of tarmac out of the road to keep Natasha away. 

“Since when could he do that?” you asked into the comms.

Natasha was tenacious, a fact Ultron soon found out, and a clump of dirt didn't deter her. She neared the vehicle again, just for the enemy's robotic lackeys to fire at her this time.

“Clint, can you draw out the guards?” she suggested.

“Let's find out.”

Firing at the robotic man did just that, and soon the Quinjet weaved through the sky, trying to shake off various bodies on Ultron, which left Natasha free for her retrieval.

“Natasha, the Ultrons are on you now,” you warned. They hadn't seemed to see her in the truck, but latched onto the sides.

“Okay, the package is airborne,” came Clint's next comment, as the robots carried the truck away from reach. That didn't matter though, as Natasha was still inside and by the sounds of it, knew just what to do. You'd lost sight of them, so focused your attention on Steve's fight with the main Ultron body…or at least, as much as you could see.

The train cameras were non-operational and soon enough, the whole train was too.

“I lost him; he's headed your way,” Steve yelled. With the fight in the air, he couldn't follow, but he also had bigger problems: a runaway train, with the driver hit and the controls fried.

“The train's at the end of the line, I can't stop it from here.”

“Nat!”

“There are no controls; I need to get civilians out of the way.”

“Cap, you seen Nat?”

“If you have the package, get it to Stark! Go!” Steve said, momentarily distracted as he answered Clint's request.

“Clint, what's happened to Nat?” you shouted, quickly leaving Steve to his own problem – this was a higher priority to you.

“Do you have eyes on Nat?”

“Go!”

You scan everything you can get your hands on, desperate for a sight of your girlfriend; but they had been too high up, too far to be covered in any camera footage. She may as well have disappeared.

“Clint,” you said urgently, cutting Steve out of the communications for the moment, “what happened to Natasha?”

“Ultron got her. I don't know, she was with the cradle and then he flew past and she's not there.”

“She didn't fall, so he's got her.”

“I can't look for her here.”

“I know. Just get back.”

“I'm sorry. We'll find her, Y/N”

“We better. And I don't care if he's vibranium, I'm gonna kill Ultron with my own two hands next time we see him.”

The train sat stationary and steaming by the time your focus returned to it. Steve stood out among the crowd, and you realised he had the Maximoff twins by his side.

“The press will be on the scene any minute. I've sent ambulances and Damage Control. Steve, Stark has a jet at Incheon, get there and get back ASAP,” you mumbled the instructions to him then hung up, once again leaving him to fend for himself.

You threw your headset down with a scream, and stormed to where the other Avengers had settled. 

Anger rarely got the best of you after missions were over, but that's because even after the worst incidents, Natasha would be there to keep you sane, and talk it through. Now she was gone, and you had no leads to getting her back.

“Where's Fury?” you demanded, seeing only Bruce and Tony in the room.

“Off on his own little mission, he picked Maria up and left. Do you know what it is? Because that man is always-”

“Natasha is missing.” You don't care that you interrupted Tony, and you don't care that there's probably better ways to break the news. Ultron had killed and hurt and targeted people the Avengers were close to; finding Natasha was urgent.

Bruce broke out of the stupor first. “What?”

“Natasha is missing. And if anyone could find her, it would be Fury, but since he's missing-”

“I'll set up nets, have one of my AIs tracking the internet for any signs of her. If she's out there, we'll find her.”

You nodded, and relaxed your body temporarily when you realised how stressed you looked. “I'm gonna keep looking,” you mumbled, “Clint's on his way back with the body Ultron was building – find a way to dismantle it safely when he arrives.”

Neither man spoke as you vacated the room and headed to the floor below. After SHIELD fell, the room has been converted into storage for some of their old tech, ranging from their founding in the 40s up until the internet age took prominence. There was nothing you could find on the internet that Stark's tech couldn't do faster, so you resorted to old fashioned methods: radio waves, faint signals, and contacting agents across the globe. One way or another, Natasha would be found.

Ultron was different to any enemy you'd faced before, he had no fixed body, he couldn't die, and he had more knowledge than even an espionage agent ever could. But his sentience, the humanity he tried to destroy… you noticed that, and that would be his downfall; Ultron theoretically could have been unstoppable, but he was a show-off, he craved attention, and because of that, he didn't always make the most logical moves. He hadn't dismantled JARVIS, he'd made a mess of the system and bragged about it; he'd killed Strucker and sent a message, even if that was the clue to finding him. If he'd killed Natasha, or hurt her in any way, he'd be boasting of it for attention – so you knew she was alive, and that hope kept you searching. The best spy alive was still alive, and she'd find a way to send you a signal.

—:::——::-————>◇<—————::——:::—

“I've never seen Y/N as stressed as this, nor you.”

You'd seen Clint's return and gone upstairs to greet him; you knew he would be as stressed as you in the situation. But when the conversation you found was focused on you and Natasha, you felt the sudden urge to hide and listen in.

“Y/N and Nat were recruited at the same time, to the same cohort. They’ve been friends for 7 years, longer than I've even been working with Natasha, so what can you expect? Natasha's been through a lot; a lot of injuries, scares, and dangerous missions, but nothing like this. We've always had tabs on her.”

“Guess now you know how Widow felt about you back in 2012.”

“Not the time Tony.”

“Anything on Nat?” Bruce asked Tony, having the sense to change the conversation somewhat.

“I haven't heard, but she's alive or else Ultron would be rubbing our faces in it.”

Clint then changed the topic completely, returning attention to the cradle he'd brought in.

“We're going to need to access the program, break it down from within.”

“Any chance Natasha might leave you a message, outside the internet? Old-school spy stuff?”

You thought Tony was just trying to make Clint feel useful while he and Bruce worked, and you appreciated his efforts. It also meant you had to rush back downstairs and continue to fiddle around as if you hadn't just been eavesdropping.

The archer hurried down the stairs. You saw him pause at the sight of you, before he approached more slowly.

“I am sorry, I know it's not your fault,” you began, though you didn't dare look up at him, “are you doing okay? She's your best friend too.”

“She was right there. Maybe I could've…”

“Neither of us could have done anything. She was falling through the air; that's not territory we can help in.”

“We'll find her though,” Clint repeated. You knew it was to convince himself. You nodded, then returned to your work – this time with an old friend by your side.

Minutes later, static buzzed through the radio, with vibrations echoing on the screen. You looked at each other, open mouthed, then hurried to take notes.

“Morse?”

Clint nodded, then smirked as he held the headset to his ear. He listened and typed quickly, pulling up a satellite image of a Sokovian castle.

“Coordinates. God she's smart. Come on, let's go tell them.”

Clint called to you, but your attention had diverted. You caught his eye then looked back up at the glass ceiling, pointing overhead to where one of the Maximoff twins stood, an unplugged cord in his hand.

Clint growled and grabbed his gun to shoot up and shatter the glass on which Pietro stood, causing the twin to come clattering down. The spy wasted no time in pinning him down. “What? You didn't see that coming?”

The broken glass made the blasts, punches, and threats from above even more audible. You pulled Pietro to his feet but held him back, nodding for Clint to leave the two of you and try to break it up.

You watched the scene unfold and get more and more aggressive. Pietro struggled in your hold when he saw Bruce grab his sister, and you were tempted to let him loose until she freed herself and sent the scientist flying backwards. Once the cradle was activated, and the red body of Ultron's creation flew out of it and into Thor, you saw no point holding the speedster back.

“Go check on your sister,” you muttered, and slowly ran after the blur into the common room.

The creation – the synthesoid – had calmed down by your arrival, and the team reached an uneasy truce to keep him, knowing there was no other hope to stop Ultron.

“Three minutes,” Steve eventually announced, “get what you need.”

You stood still for a moment. While the others dispersed to their lockers and equipment, you had no similar place to go – you weren't called in for last minute missions like the main Avengers were, so everything you needed, you kept in your room. You wouldn't have time for that on this mission, so you decided Natasha's locker would have to do.

“Come on,” you called to the twins who, like you, had been standing around without much direction. “Tony's undershirts might fit you,” you said to Pietro, sizing him up as you unlocked the cubicle, “and use Nat’s clothes if your sister needs.” The sister in question – Wanda – drifted behind the two of you; her focus not on you, but on the conversation happening between Thor and the synthesoid outside.

You grabbed the clothes and weapons you needed from Natasha’s locker, then left the twins to it.

“Ultron knows we're coming,” Steve told the team on the jet, forming the plan before you get there, “odds are, we'll be riding into heavy fire. And that's what we signed up for, but the people of Sokovia, they didn't. So our priority is getting them out. All they want is to live their lives in peace, and that's not going to happen today, but we can do our best to protect them, and we can get the job done.”

Tony would be the one to fight Ultron head on, Thor to investigate the robots plans, and Bruce to rescue Natasha. You tried to step in and volunteer yourself, but Clint held you back, subtly shaking his head.

“Bruce can get her out,” he whispered to you, “you'll do a better job getting civilians out than him, and it'll keep your secret a secret.”

You grumbled, but agreed, and eventually conceded to his case. So when the jet landed and Thor and Bruce headed toward the fortress the Avengers had fought so hard to infiltrate just a week before, you turned and ran the other way, into the main city of Novi Grad.

No work you did could be as effective as the twins; the pair evacuated buildings in mere minutes and knew their hometown well enough to know exactly which places to target. Meanwhile, you hurried the streets with Clint, helping anyone struggling with the evacuation process.

Almost everyone had vacated their homes, most on their way to Sokovia’s neighbouring villages, when Ultron's plan truly started. The ground rumbled, and the streets and buildings soon began to ascent into the sky. Orderly evacuation descended into chaos as civilians clamoured to jump down to solid ground while they still could – a window that only lasted seconds before the remaining civilians, and all the Avengers, became stranded on the floating rock.

“Bruce, did you find Natasha?” you heard Clint shout. Steve and Tony debated their changing plans in your ear, so if Bruce ever gave a reply, you didn't hear it.

Regardless, your attention couldn't linger on it for long, as a floating island wasn't enough for Ultron, he had to send hundreds of his identical lackeys into the fray as well. 

“The rest of us have one job: tear these things apart. You get hurt, hurt 'em back. You get killed, walk it off.”

A mission was a mission, and you took to it well – even if you couldn't get the civilians to safety, you could protect them where they were. They began to congregate, and you moved with them, shooting, stabbing, and kicking the decoys whenever they got near, while herding the civilians towards shelter. It wasn't the most effective, but you were no superhero.

That remained your role, even as a certain redhead on the field caught your attention.

“Natasha!” you yelled.

She looked over and grinned when she saw you – a smile that was soon wiped off her face when an Ultron rocketed into you. You tussled with it, but it was Natasha who eventually pulled it off of you, shooting it in the head before you decapitated it for good measure.

She smiled again, then offered a hand to pull you to your feet.

“Why weren't you answering your comms, hmm? I was worried about you! I didn't know if Bruce got you out okay!”

“Oh, I don't know, baby, maybe because a psychotic robot took me captive and took away my means of communication?”

“Not those ones, Bruce's spare set! He was meant to give them to you.”

A robot came to end your reunion, but Natasha had it dead in seconds. “He didn't, but I pushed him into the crater so I can't really blame him-”

“You did what? Natasha you know you can't be doing that.”

“He wanted to run and I needed to get to you,” she smirked, with all the confidence of someone who knew they'd gotten away with it. “What else is a girl supposed to do?”

You sighed, then took her hand. “Just put this in. I had a spare set too.”

“We are not clear! We are very not clear!” Steve's voice echoed as she put it in, proving that it did in fact work.

“Now go be a hero,” you nodded, “I've got this.”

She squeezed your hand tightly before she ran to what used to be the bridge, where Steve and Thor had set up their operations.

You watched her go while completing your own job of keeping the civilians safe. The robots had dispersed, but you were still fighting a few when, minutes later, Nick Fury appeared on the comms. 

“Glad you like the view, Romanoff. It's about to get better.”

Even from where you stood in the city, the helicarrier dominated the skyline and filled you with hope.

“Let's load ‘em up,” Steve commanded, and you didn't have to be told twice.

You beckoned to the crowd of people you had been protecting, and the stragglers who slowly emerged from their own hiding places as the hope of safety, and led them towards the ship. Natasha was by your side again, allowing you to direct the civilians without taking on several robots alone at once.

Countless ferries to the helicarrier later, and streams of civilians still emerged from the maze of crumbling apartment blocks. Ultron wouldn't let the team have that one victory, and Thor soon warned the heroes about an incoming attack on the vibranium core – an attack which would decimate the Earth and its population.

“Rhodey, get the rest of the people on board that carrier. Avengers, time to work for a living.”

Natasha grabbed your wrist as you signalled for more civilians to board the ferries, “are you coming?”

“Someone needs to stay and help them here,” you said with a shake of your head, “and Rhodey is dealing with enough in the sky. This is your mission, my love, so go finish it.”

She leant in, seemingly before she realised you were still surrounded by people, after which she veered to the side and pulled you into a tight hug instead.

“I'll see you afterwards, okay? Come back to me this time.”

“I promise.”

Then, once again, you stood and watched as Natasha ran into the fight. Screams and yells from the people surrounding you soon snapped you back to the present and you jumped onto duty. You called out to the civilians in your limited Sokovian, directing them in huddles from the cover of the police station onto the ferries, until they were in the ex-SHIELD team's capable hands.

“They're trying to leave the city,” Thor noticed, and sure enough, several silver bodies flew overhead, aiming to escape the Avengers' assault.

“I'm on it,” came Rhodey’s response, as he left you alone with the Sokovian authorities to protect the civilians boarding the ships. The civilian numbers were dwindling, as most had boarded already, and only the last stragglers were still arriving. Zips of blue occasionally crossed your sight, as Pietro scoured the city for any last boarders and deposited them by your side.

He eventually slowed down enough to talk, just as Clint and Natasha raced into the Square – where they had time to find and hijack a car, you'd never know.

“That's everyone,” Pietro panted, anyone not on the boats is here.

You nodded, looking around the square again. “We're almost done loading, you can probably-” you began, but rapid gunfire turned both of your heads like a shot.

“Natasha!” you yelled. The artillery had been aimed directly at her and the Hulk. The creature roared at the jet, bullets bouncing off of his skin, while Natasha was nowhere to be seen. As you ran towards her, it was only when you got close that you saw her body on the ground.

The world blurred around you as your only goal was to sprint forward, but even that failed. The Hulk picked her up, her body cradled gently in his arms, then leapt. 

You turned back; he had jumped towards the helicarrier, but another sight caught your eye. A few bodies lay strewn in the street, victims of Ultron's final push, but Steve and Clint knelt still beside one of them. You traipsed back, seeing no point in rushing when the day had already taken so much. 

Agents and guards rushed off the boats, running all around you to collect the bodies of their friends and colleagues. You continued forward. Steve looked up and met your eye, and you finally noticed the limp body in his arms. Clint returned the child to his mother, and Steve brought the final body – Pietro's – on board. You sat with the Captain in silence as the boat began to ascend.

“He was supposed to get Wanda,” you said at last, the realisation hitting you that she was still in the floating city. “Has anyone got Wanda?”

There was no time for anyone to respond because, just as your ship docked, the whole city began to fall.

“Thor, on my mark,” Tony said, and you watched as the city began to crumble into pieces.

Steve put his hand on your shoulder, bearing a defeated look as he guided you into the main body of the helicarrier. Your mood was sour, but the sight that greeted you inside finally began to change it for the better.

“Natasha!” you breathed, running forward as a grin spread across her face. You grabbed her and held her at an arm's length to assess her for injuries, but found nothing severe. “You're okay? You're alright?”

“I’m alright. I promised you I'd come back to you just fine.”

“Well that was before-”

“The Vision has got Wanda,” Steve interrupted, “I'm going to go up and tell her about… you know, but are we agreed on bringing her back with us?”

“She's got powers that she'll need training to control, I doubt the government will let her do anything else but come with us.”

“Don't bring that part up just yet though,” you added, “she's dealing with enough.”

He nodded, then left the two of you alone again. “So, The Vision…is that the red guy?” Natasha asked quickly. The two of you began to walk towards the control boards.

“Oh yeah! I suppose you were never properly introduced. Thor had a ‘vision’, and it was powerful enough to make him take Tony's side.”

“Wow, Asgardian visions must be something else.”

“You're telling me.”

“Y/L/N!” Fury called. You and Natasha stopped in your tracks to look over at him; he raised an eyebrow and impatiently beckoned you closer. 

“I need a word with Y/N. Alone.” The Director warned when Natasha followed you over, “we have your big green friend on call, see if you can get through to him while we talk.”

Natasha’s first reaction was to check with you, but you met her eye and nodded, giving her the reassurance that you could deal with Fury alone.

You watched alongside Fury as your girlfriend rounded the corner and disappeared from sight, before the man finally turned to you with a glint in his eye.

“I have some news for you, if you're interested in hearing it-”

—:::——::-————>◇<—————::——:::—

“Your suit’s not on properly.”

“What? Yes it is, I can dress myself just fine, Nat.”

“Your belt is supposed to be tucked into your left belt loop, not the right.”

You looked down and, sure enough, your belt was wrapped anti-clockwise around your waist instead of clockwise. You then looked back up at your girlfriend, a tired look of disbelief on your face that that was the detail she decided to pick up on.

“Literally no-one is gonna notice that.”

“I did.”

“You're a special case.”

“Awww, you think I'm special,” she cooed sarcastically, before deftly undoing a redoing your belt. “There. You're all set.”

“Who'd have thought this is where we'd be 7 years ago, huh?”

You stepped out of your room, Natasha following right behind you, and headed toward the giant halls of the new Avengers Facility.

“I definitely didn't, you were shit when we met.”

“I'd argue but I always admitted that was true. And now here we both are, leading teams while we're still in our 20s… except, oh wait, oh you're old, I forgot.”

“You're so funny,” Natasha deadpanned, giving a sarcastic grin in response to your smug look.

“Fury wants to meet me here,” she then said, stopping you both at the intersection between your destination and a dead-end viewing platform. She took your hands in hers and traced your knuckles with her thumbs, “I am proud of you, you know that? You've achieved so much, and you're going to do brilliantly today. Good luck, my love.”

“Good luck to you too, baby.” You learnt in, kissing her quickly before you drifted apart, spitting towards your opposite destinations. “No pressure,” you called after her, “but the future of Earth's defence is in your hands!”

She flipped you off, while you turned and continued to walk down the endless maze of corridors until you bumped into Steve.

“Morning, Captain,”

“Y/N. Are you off to training?”

“Sure am.”

“I still don't suppose I can convince you to join me and Nat?”

You shook your head apologetically. “A team of superheroes and superpowers isn't really where I should be. The cameras and publicity and media scrutiny, it's not for me. But I've got my place and I've got my new recruits to train, so when you need us, we'll be there to support you in the background of it all.”

—:::——::-————>◇<—————::——:::—

Series Taglist: @fairychev @catswag22 @sapphosclosefriend @romanoffsgal @taliiiaasteria @saraaahsstuff @blacklightsposts @automaticdinosaurtaco @dyslexic-dreamer

General Taglist: @canvascoloredin @fxckmiup @wizardofstories

[mika-no-sekai-blog]

With the last breath III

Word count: 1100+

Warnings: depression, mentions of suicide

Part II || Part IV

New chapter is here! I hope you will like it.

I had surprisingly very productive week and already started to work on the next chapter too. Hopefully I'll finish it soon.

I'm sorry for all the mistakes I've made. English isn't my first language😅

The senses awakened first, as your consciousness slowly returned. Intoxicating scent of cedar and mist filled your nose making a faint smile appear on your face.

Forest.

You had to be in the deep forest somewhere near the mountains.

But then the memories of previous day came back to you and your smile faded away.

With a great effort you managed to open your heavy eyelids, but you couldn't see a thing. Only impenetrable darkness. You panicked and wanted to sit up, run away, anything, but you couldn't move a single finger. Your whole body felt incredibly heavy and so strange and distant as a body of somebody else.

Feeling silky sheets on the bare skin of your arms, you were more than sure this wasn't your bed nor your room. Scared, you looked around hardly recognizing contours of the furniture. Your eyes focused on the dark curtains covering the window. Suddenly they opened up, letting the late morning light break into the room.

The light was too bright, painfully piercing your eyes. Closing them you turned your head away from the window. The movement sent a jolt of pain down your spine making you feel little nauseous. Small groan escaped through your dry lips.

„You shouldn't move so fast,“ night-kissed deep voice warned you. That sound made your heart stop for a second and your body shiver with a pleasure. Blinking you turned back looking for his muscular form with huge wings. When your eyes got used to the light, you finally spotted him. There he was, sitting in the armchair under the window casually resting his chin in the open palm. He looked tired with dark circles under eyes and messy hair.

Azriel stood up putting scarred hands into the pockets of trousers, slowly moving towards you with unreadable expression. You tried to sit up, move out of his way, but it didn't go as well as you hoped. Unhurriedly he slipped strong arms around your waist and shoulders and helped you sit up and lean against the headboard. He even fixed the pillow for you. The mattress dipped as he sat down on the edge.

Breath caught in your throat, heart tried to jump out from your chest. You didn't know where to look, so you concentrated on your hands in the lap. You couldn't remember last time he talked to you or willingly came so close.

"Here you are," he said offering you a glass of water. "Drink." You hesitated. "It's just water. You were in shock, you need to drink a lot now." His voice was as cool as usually, but there was some subtle emotion you couldn't place. Care? Kindness? It was definitely something soft, warm and inviting.

"Thank you," you whispered. Carefully you accepted the glass and drank it in one go. Cooling liquid spilled into your dry mouth and irritated throat, momentarily quenching the thirst. Forgetting who's sitting in front of you, you groaned in relieve. When you realised he heard it, you blushed.

But Azriel didn't say a single word. He didn't even smirk. He just watched you carefully. He took the glass, refilled it and gave it back to you. Gratefully you took it and drank it up. He refilled it and you drained it up again.

"Is it better now," he asked putting the glass on the nightstand.

"Much better," embarrassed you muttered. For a while there was just silence, none of you even moved. You still didn't dare to look at him directly. Your eyes stopped on his chest, but you noticed when he swallowed hard.

Azriel clear his throat. "Would you mind telling me," he spoke gently, "what happened on that balcony?" His voice was surprisingly kind and warm. There was no trace of rage, accusation nor reproach. Even his usual cold distant tone was completely gone too.

You broke out in a cold sweat. What should you tell him? That you saw him with Elain and it broke your heart? That as foolish as it was, at that moment you wanted to disappear, to cease to exist? What you did was stupid. You yourself felt horrible for it wishing you could take it all back. But you couldn't. And you couldn't even lie to him. He was spymaster after all.

Azriel didn't press you. He just sat there waiting. You took a shaky breath.

"Well..I didn't feel well yesterday," you said nervously, suddenly feeling the need to play with your fingers. "I was just looking at the sky and watching clouds. My head spun and I must have lost balance." That wasn't lie nor a complete true.

Azriel's jaw tightened and eyes narrowed, but he said nothing. Did he notice? He seemed to be thinking about your words, but at last he just nodded once.

Your throat tightened as tears welled up in your eyes. You knew he didn't like you and tolerated you just because Rhysand and the others wanted you to be a part of inner circle. And now he even had to save you and let you sleep in his bed. You felt miserable. "I'm so sorry I caused you so many troubles.. I didn't mean to bother you.. nor anybody else.." You tried to calm down holding tears back, wishing there was a place to hide in.

"No, don't say such things," he said in that strangely gentle voice. "Everything.. is okay." He seemed to feel awkward, his cheeks heated.

You were trying really hard, but you couldn't take it anymore. And you didn't want to cry in front of him.

"I should return to my room," you whispered. Your body still felt heavy and stiff, but you managed to pull back blanket and get out of the bed. Azriel reached out. He seemed to want to say something, opening and closing mouth, but no words came out. On shaky legs you got to the door and opened it. He followed you closely.

"Are you sure? You can stay until you feel better," finally finding voice, his brows furrowed. You just shook your head, afraid that once you open your mouth you would lose it. "I'll help you get to your room," he offered.

"Thank you for everything," you shook your head again and stepped into the hallway, trying to walk away as fast as you could. Worried he watched you till you turned around the corner.

Azriel sent several shadows to keep an eye on Y/N and report back to him as soon as she would try to do something dangerous. Slowly he closed the door and pressing his forehead to its cold surface he exhaled shakily. Trembling fingers clenched into fists. He was so afraid she would notice how much he is nervous, but she left without noticing.

She left.

Again.

Y/N ran away from him.

Closing his eyes he promised himself to see her soon. Very soon.

[hawthornvisual]

2013 vs 2024

tbh, this is incredibly difficult for me. as a trans woman, there are certain expectations for posts like these. some gruff but sad looking man who was transformed into a happy beautiful girl via hormones. so you might think that nothing has changed. or perhaps i have gone backwards, gotten hairier, bigger, becoming even more of a man than i started off as.

this might be hard to read, so i'll put the rest under a read more. CW for homelessness, starvation, transmisogyny, and probably a few things i'm missing.

my transition has been messy. in some ways, you might say that i spent the first 25 years of my life transitioning. as a child i was efemminate, loved to play dress up and dolls, but my father was so against this that he filed a lawsuit against my mother, getting a court order forbidding her from "forcing me to crossdress." this set the tone for the rest of my childhood, which is a story i will not get into here because it is much worse than the story i'm trying to tell.

growing up in a christian fundamentalist home meant that it wasn't until much later, after my mother gained custody and i had gone on to experience even further ruination of my life, that i even learned that trans people exist. that this was a thing you could do, could be. a brief flash, something hiding behind my eyes, and i had locked it away. of course i wasn't trans. i was an athlete, a martial artist, a musician, why would i need to think about gender?

when i was 16, i joined tumblr. i saw a blooming transgender community, got to see the inner thoughts and conversations that trans people were having, couldn't avoid certain things any longer. i started to identify as nonbinary, eventually even coming out to my mother, who certainly TRIED to be supportive. it was exciting, made my heart race a little, made me scared. i had no idea what i was doing, or how my world was about to turn upside down and inside out.

the summer i turned 18, i was severely injured in a martial arts tournament. my right knee had caved in, the bone at the site of the joint crushed by a man i had thought was my friend. i didn't realize what had happened, and so didn't go to a doctor until two weeks later, at which point the damage was considered irreversible. everything i was disappeared. i lost all will to live. i stopped drawing, stopped playing music. i started drinking heavily. my family knew i was struggling but any efforts to fix the situation just made it worse. my mother and older brother had been putting more and more pressure on me to get a job and get out of the house, even though i could barely walk. my older brother told me that my mother was going to kick me out if i couldn't start contibuting. i still couldn't. i became homeless for the first time at the age of 19.

when you're homeless, it's like every single day is drawn out into countless hours, and you either have nothing to do, or far too much to do, and nothing in between. i had an online partner at the time, someone who turned out to be a chaser targeting suspiciously egg shaped men and nonbinary people, who spent the entire time getting more and more frustrated that i didn't have the time to be a fucktoy. i ended up insitutionalized for a month, after which i was kicked to the curb and left with nothing but a backpack and the clothes on my back. any journey of self discovery i may have been having was on hold until i wasn't fighting for survival.

my rescue came from a nonbinary lesbian who reached out to me. i was offered a room, a place to stay for no cost. they helped me break up with my partner. i found myself in a new sort of situationship, but at a confusing cost. why was this lesbian interested in me? was that even okay? eventually we had a conversation. they revealed to me that they had thought i was a trans woman. the fact that i had been seen as a woman hit me like a truck in a blindzone i didn't know i had.

after a difficult few days of arguing with myself, i couldn't hide from it. i was a woman. maybe i had always been a woman. a thought more terrifying than it had any right to be.

i grew my hair out. i started shaving. after a few months, i was even able to book my first HRT appointment (thank you state of washington trans healthcare laws). i came out to my mother a second time, and her reaction was much different this time. maybe due to the distance that had grown between us, the past hostility that left scars still bleeding, but i suspect it was because telling her that her firstborn son was actually a woman was much scarier to her than telling her that i didn't really care about gender.

this photo is from the day that i had my first HRT appointment. my soft chin, once a weakness, could be bared proudly, the ambiguity in my face becoming something that i cherished.

a year later, i had the longest hair of my life. if i shaved and wore makeup, and dressed right, i could get gendered correctly so long as i didn't speak. in that regard, i was truly getting the full experience of womanhood. my relationship with my partner was going strong. i thought that i had found my forever.

things got messy. you will probably hear me say this again. you won't find many better ways to describe my life, other than messy. my partner had always been polyamorous, but i was not, and had not ever pretended that this was not the case. so when one of my partners friends confessed her love to them, they went into panic mode. suddenly they were pushing everyone away, reverting to old bad habits and anxieties, and our relationship began to fall apart.

the friend, we'll call her A, pretended to move on, started dating someone else. my own friendship with A was strained by the situation, and her new partner, a butch lesbian named rowan, seemed to be suffering for it. i realized that the only way our relationships could survive was if we tried to work out an agreement to polyamory. in the end that wasn't enough, but i was desperate. i was starting to see the cracks, realizing that if this fell apart, i would be homeless again. my leg injury had already been so badly worsened from my first experience with homelessness, i knew that going through it again would be the end of me.

since my partner and A were now seeing each other, i began to get ignored. the only time either of them spent talking to me was talking about each other, either joyous or trying to fix some new problem. at this point, i started getting to know rowan. we had a lot in common, i had never talked to a butch before, let alone known one, and seeing the way that they navigated gender made me jealous. i didn't know why.

more and more, rowan and i were separated from the broader relationship, and as we talked more, something developed. i had already felt it the first time we spoke, on some level, but it had grown and grown, from respect, to admiration, to desire and love. we were in a polyamorous relationship after all, so it made sense to me. but shortly after, when i told my partner what i was feeling, they freaked out. this wasn't the agreement, they had only agreed to them being able to date other people, didn't think that it would need to be specified because i wasn't polyamorous.

the entire relationship falls apart and we go back to being two separate couples, and the end of that came swiftly after. they cheated on me with A, and when i found out, that was it. my now ex partner told me that i could stay at the apartment until the lease ran out, and they would move back in with their parents. they took all the furniture, i was left with an ancient computer, a blanket, some clothes, and two pillows. my depression came back with a vengeance, and i stopped eating. by the time the lease ran out, i had lost a dangerous amount of weight. i became homeless for the second time at age 22.

this time, after only six months, i found a thin sliver of hope. i was given a place to stay. a single-wide trailer that i would share with three other trans women and a hairy nonbinary lesbian. you've probably heard the stories of similar situations. it's impossible to have healthy boundaries in a space the size of a can of sardines. or healthy anything really. i got involved in an incredibly toxic relationship with one of the other trans women, who i found out was dating nearly a dozen other people.

the only thing i could do was try to feel wanted. desired. i began experimenting with my image.

i re-established contact with rowan, but there was so much there that i couldn't bring myself to face yet. as i began to experiment with more masculine presentation, those around me took a greater interest in me. i was an object of desire. it was the most worth i had felt i ever had.

i wasn't eating again. so my weight kept dropping. in the three-odd years since my first encounter with homelessness, i had lost 30% of my entire bodyweight. this only made my physical issues get worse and worse.

i wasn't done with experimentation though. what could i do with this newfound territory?

the time came. i couldn't stay anymore. the relationship had fallen apart, and my connection to the household had been sent away in exile. the irony of this is not lost on me. i was lucky enough to be able to couch surf for a few months this time.

i lost weight again.

and again.

my knee got worse and worse. my iliotibial band tore. my birthday came and went, nobody celebrated except for rowan, now my only friend.

a week after my birthday, a lesbian couple contacted me. told me that they had a spare bedroom, and that if i could cover the costs of my own food, could stay for as long as i liked.

i started HRT again. rowan and i had managed to work through all the shit and scum of our past and started a relationship anew. it felt like this could be real.

i started to look a lot like my mom. kind of uncomfortably like my mom. rowan was butch, so i had thought i should be a femme. i didn't understand what that meant, but whatever it was i attempted, it wavered dramatically.

i began to switch, every month or so, between masculine and feminine presentation. my chest had grown enough that it was visible now, and i experienced an equal amount of joy and fear when i was gendered correctly in public, having learned to fear people finding out that i was a trans woman.

the weight didn't come back. it was like my body had burned itself so far down that it could not regrow. i had no energy, and my physical condition continued to deteriorate. but i was allowed to be myself. and i was in love with a butch. maybe that would be enough.

i began to develop a fashion sense of my own. the butch label was starting to appeal to me. and my roommates seemed to agree, since they both shifted towards butchness and masculinity alongside me. but it wasn't to last. one of my roommates, a TME lesbian i'm gonna call M, suddenly went off on a transmisogynistic rant to me. M's partner was a trans woman, and hearing this caused me to suddenly re-evaluate everything. did this happen because M viewed me as more masculine now, a more acceptable target? would this happen to G, M's partner?

i hardcore shifted gears back to feminine presentation. it felt safer. i stopped eating again. things weren't okay, but they were bearable this way. but then, one day, we got locked out of our apartment. a stupid, played out thing that happens to everyone at least once. while my roommate G went to see if the apartment manager was in with a spare key, i attempted to climb our balcony and get in through the unlocked back door. when i was up on the railing of our balcony, it gave way, and i fell to the asphalt below, breaking my back. following a trend that i set half a decade ago, i didn't realize it had happened. my back hurt, but i thought it would go away. it did, replaced by a vast numbness through the middle of my back. i began to collapse any time i tried to exhert myself physically at all. i would only find out why years later. the fact that i couldn't contribute to chores anymore, and nobody knew why, made the situation with M deteriorate much faster.

at my lowest point in years. my relationship with rowan was the only thing that kept me from giving up, but after the third time M decided to spew vileness at me i just spent months locked away in my room, terrified that any time i saw M was going to be another lecture about how i was disrespectful, loud, obtrusive, intimidating, too quiet, too lazy, whatever incoherent train of thought i would have to face next.

it was too much to handle in combination with the events of 2020, the lockdowns, the illness, the forest fires, things ended up coming to a head. at age 25, i became homeless for the third time, during the pandemic and a wildfire that filled the air with plastic fumes so thick you couldn't see ten feet in front of you.

i got in contact with my mother and had her take my cat, because i knew i couldn't take care of her like this. that was the last time i saw my cat in person before she died. rowan was frantically trying anything and everything possible to help me. i thought that this might be the end.

three and a half years ago today i got the best news of my life. there was a way out. it would be a long and tricky road, involving moving my whole life to a new country. but we could do it. not only could we do it, but we actually did it. in a months time, i was in rowan's arms. for the first time in our years of knowing each other, there was nothing keeping us apart any longer.

i was finally able to rest. able to eat. i started to regain weight for the first time in nearly a decade. i felt my energy come back, slowly at first, and then more and more until i was capable of functioning, even if at a low level. it's around then that i find out the truth of what happened to my back. it still hasn't properly healed.

in my gratefullness for life and love, i briefly forgot my identity crisis. i was happy to just exist without fear and pain. it wasn't until about a year ago, when a miracle occurred, that this changed.

i woke up one morning, feeling more energetic than usual. i think to myself, maybe i can do some light exercise, for old times sake.

my knee doesn't hurt.

my knee doesn't hurt.

MY KNEE DOESN'T HURT.

a wound that i thought would dictate my life forever, given actual time to rest and food to fuel the process, had healed. everything that i had ever given up on came rushing back into my head, ideas about who i could be, what i could become, what other injuries i might be able to recover from if i treat them right and rebuild myself. ten months ago i began to work out consistently. my back is slowly healing. i am stronger than i ever was before.

i have had to rebuild myself so many times. did i ever discover the secret of butchness in the process? no, that's something that i think will take the rest of my life. for now, my butchness is an enduring pillar, the only part of myself that never fully burnt away. standing up for myself, being my own person, loving another butch, refusing to lose the kindness i so desperately clung to my whole life, refusing to limit myself and my dreams, this is who i am. i am friends with other butches. i am not alone anymore. for now, this is butch. this is me.

[oleander-nin]

Not a request, but ive seen you mention in the horror movie headcanons that leo whispers threats to the reader, and i was wondering if you had any actual lines in mind for threats from yan leo and donnie in general (i dont think raph and mikey are ones to threaten)

Oh yeah, sure. I actually had 'quotes' in mind, but I felt too embarrassed to put them lmao. These are a bit low effort, but I'm tired and just took the first of many finals, so... Any criticism is welcome, constructive or not. This is supposed to be a gender neutral reader, so if I screwed up somewhere, please tell me.

(not just for the movie, just in general tbh. I'll mark movie ones in green)

Tws: Threats, mentions of a feeding tube, paralytics, general violence, yandere themes, mentions of kidnapping, isolation

-Ollie

Donnie's much more blunt with his threats. They are more of a warning, him just trying to get you to behave quickly. He doesn't sugarcoat it, or do the whole 'or else' thing, because he wants you to be certain of the consequences for your actions. You're misbehaving, and he's giving you a chance to correct your behavior. Let's hope you take it.

Donnie's example threats:

"Stop struggling or I'm going to inject you with a paralytic."

"I need you to eat. Don't make me get Leo to help set up the feeding tube."

"You're such a dumb dumb sometimes. Can't you see that I'm doing this for you? Do you really need me to figure how to perform a lobotomy?"(Less of a threat, more of a rhetorical question)

"Unless you want to be put in isolation again, I'd suggest you'd put down the knife. I'll let Mikey know you can't assist in the kitchen for a while."

"Did you really think that would work? You know I have to put the shock collar back on now, I can't have you leave my side."

"If you try to leave again, I'm going to paralyze you. Make the right decision."

Leo, on the other hand, is a lot more... Jokey? About his threats. He treats them like a quick fear tactic, and usually won't go through with them unless you continue to push his buttons. Usually sticks to implying things or to hold onto you tighter, letting you 'hear' the threat instead of outright saying it.

Leo's example threats:

"Oooh, did you see the way that guy's hand got broken? It would be such a shame if that happened to you. Stop struggling."

"I thought I told you to stay put. You don't want to get tied up again, right? I swear, you're just asking for it at this point."

"Keep your voice down. I don't like your tone. Just remember, my hands can wrap all the way around your neck if needed."

"I swear, I need to tie you down for everything. Don't you know how annoying you can be?" "Keep talking like that and I'll rip your tongue out." (example of a threat he wouldn't do, but wants you to listen)

"Aww, is the poor baby crying? That was nothing. If you continue, I'll give you something to cry about."

[absentwriterdoll]

Beautiful Oblivion

"Do they remember?"

Celestice turns, the unusually wide brim of her hat wobbling slightly. It never fails to catch my eye, her hat: I've never seen her without it. I wonder if she ever finds it cumbersome...

"Remember what?"

"Sorry, remember who they used to be."

She leans back into her chair, the wood creaking. She raises her cup to her lips absent-mindedly - then pulls it back, gazing at the dish as if it had offended her.

And she leans down to hand the cup to a doll that I hadn't even noticed approach.

A smile spreads on its face before it turns away.

She folds her arm as she waits, clearly somewhat miffed, as the doll disappears nearly as silently into the kitchen.

It looked so happy when Celestice gave it the cup...

"Well. It depends on the doll."

…

Silence passes between us. I can hear the stove being lighted. 

A fresh cup every time she asks.

"How about that one? The one that took your cup?"

"Rhodon? It remembers. It used to be a lawyer."

An image of a doll questioning a witness flits in my mind.

"... Do you think it could fight a case if you asked it too?"

A chuckle escapes from her. A sweet dulcet tone. I never get tired of her cadence.

"Without a doubt. Granted, it probably wouldn't understand as much of it, but I'm certain it could."

The doll, Rhodon, returns with a cup in hand, its steps much less quiet for the weight of the cup. Celestice reaches down and takes it from the doll, patting its head, whispering "Good doll", and its smile this time is bigger than before.

And my heart yearns.

"Would you like a refill, Elle?"

And her voice returns me to the present.

To some degree, at least.

"Oh, yes, please."

Far from myself, I reach down and hand the cup to Rhodon. That same smile, that same eager gait, that same enthusiasm.

...

I bite the inside of my cheek.

"Why do you ask?"

"Oh, I'm just a bit curious."

It isn't just curiosity - but I can't admit that.

"Well, if you're a bit curious, I could let you experience it first-hand."

My heart stops.

I know my face just paled.

I know my expression just changed.

...but she's drinking from her cup, her eyes are closed. She didn't see.

I remember to breathe.

"Isn't that a lot of work? I know that magic's always been hard on you..."

I just realized I'm gritting my teeth.

"You're not wrong. Guess we shouldn't."

…

Silence splits the space between us as she nurses her drink.

...

The tiny footsteps of Rhodon bearing a cup with tea.

Celestice takes the cup from it, and places it nearer to me.

Then she leans back over.

She pets the doll.

A whisper.

"Good doll."

The doll smiles.

...

"Doll, send Ytrei to my study. I'll be along after I finish talking with Elle."

"Yes Miss!"

That happy enthusiasm.

...

I'm jealous of a doll.

"Oh, and take your time!"

"Yes Miss!"

...

She raises her cup high as she drinks.

It is empty when she sets it down.

...

Then the silence between us disappears with a snap of her fingers - along with sounds I didn't realize I could hear.

"Elle."

Her voice is vivid in the absence.

"We've known each other for years."

I can feel myself shaking.

"You never turn down a chance to see my magic."

...

"What happened?"

I breathe deep, the effort more laboured than I'd like.

But... That's my normal, isn't it?

"I'm just a little scared. Or maybe excited. I don't know."

She stares at me, waiting, expectant.

Her gaze is piercing - just like the lavender of her irises.

…

"But I've... I've got a time limit now."

I put forward a smile that I know is a nervous reaction from a hope to appear strong to avoid making anyone feel as if they need to help me because I can't pay them back.

An irrational smile.

"So... Yeah. That's it."

…

My hands fidget for something, anything distracting, and I find the teacup.

It's still warm. A little too warm.

It will be perfect when the time comes.

"The dolls... They all asked for this, didn't they?"

She nods, the brim of her hat waving.

"I wouldn't do it otherwise."

And we settle into rhythm.

"Has one ever come back?"

"Twice, actually."

"What happened?"

"Well... Hm. The first, nothing big, just not a good fit. Caught it early before he spiraled. Called the experience refreshing but not for him."

"What about the second?"

"Didn't catch her before the spiral... And I'd like to leave it at that."

"That's fine."

...

"Would I be a good fit?"

...

"In most cases, I'd pass that kind of question off. I can't think for anyone, after all."

"Oh, sorry-"

"But you."

She stands and strides over to me - and she takes my cup and drinks from it.

"I'd take you."

She places the cup down half-full in front of me.

And I can see my reflection. 

Tired, unkempt, eyes red from crying.

And I can see the brim of her hat over me.

…

I look small compared to her.

And I can't help but smile at that thought.

"Besides. I'd do a much better job at keeping you alive than literally the entire world apparently."

I struggle to stifle a laugh, and it comes out in sputters anyway.

But it yields a smile from her.

"But... You know how I work. Even if I really want to break from my code right about now."

...

She was always so certain, so confident, so right, so knowing. As if she knew everything about everything and then some.

Everything about me and more.

But she always went by my word.

…

Always let me have my own voice.

Always let me find my own way.

Always let me have a say.

...

And now I don't want it anymore.

...

"What will you name me?"

"Lethe."

Oblivion and forgetfulness.

...

"A wonderful name for a doll."

I raise the cup to my lips -

And it returns the cup to the table, empty.

A wonderful first tea party! 

“Now... To my study! Ytrei is waiting.”

It happily follows in Miss’s steps.

[xxsycamore]

𝙔𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙮 𝙎𝙤𝙡𝙪𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨 ( SEBASTIAN X READER )

↬ 🍜 Putting food in your stomach makes your cramps flare up, and you refuse to eat. Sebastian can't have that.

Sebastian x Reader• rating: G • tags: Menstruation; Period Cramps; Fluff; Blankets; Food; Cooking • wordcount:  995 • masterlist

a/n: This one goes to the fellow period-sufferers who can eat little to nothing the first two days 😭 If you happen to suffer from cramps and you want your favorite ikevamp suitor comforting you in their own unique way, may I also offer: Napoleon, Comte, Mozart, Theo, Leonardo💕(All fics in this series share the same opening scene!)

It’s another beautiful day at the mansion, and the sun is continuing to shine brightly outside as afternoon settles in. Your list of chores is more than half-way done now, the morning was a productive one and you pat yourself on the back for pushing through at your usual pace, even if your period surprised you early this morning. Sleeves rolled up and armed with a feather duster, you march towards the lounge room to take care of another chore.

Specks of dust dance in the afternoon sun, windows wide open, as you complete your task little by little. Soon the sections left to dust decrease and you start to tire - a minor pain in your tummy appearing as well, as if to persuade you into taking a short break. You throw a look at the grandfather clock. You’ve been a busy bee; not even the distraction of dusting off some of Comte’s highly intriguing antiques couldn’t get you late on your own schedule.

You sit down at the spacious couch area, grab a throw pillow to hug, and fall on your side - shoe-covered feet juust hanging off the couch because it won’t be worth the effort of taking them off for just a minute or two of rest.

Uh-oh! The pain doesn’t go away and only gets worse instead. Suddenly moving as much as a millimeter equals signing a death warrant.

“Help” You whisper to yourself, clutching onto the throw pillow.

"I need you to eat something. Please."

You shake your head, curling up further onto yourself in silent protest of standing up to eat. You hate refusing Sebastian of all people. One reason is that you're familiar with his caring, warm side - you recognize that tone as he asks you to at least try the warm soup he's holding out to you.

A whiff of the delicious broth and your stomach waves the white flag, putting an end to the silent protest as it audibly announces it's hunger, by growling. Loudly. And you speak up before Sebastian does… Or before he resorts to something worse. You protectively place the pillow over your forehead, just to be cautious.

"I caaaan't, Sebas! Stop torturing me by waving your yummy soup in my face, it's not that I don't want to eat, it's that I can't!"

Sebastian lets out a low hum, straightening up again and placing the lid back on the tray.

"I understand now. Your period is upsetting your stomach."

You groan, dragging the pillow down so that it covers your face. He's ever so perceptive. A bit too much, even.

"Putting food in it makes my cramps flare up."

"Even if it's in little quantities?"

"…No. But I never know when to stop. Especially now that I'm hungry."

Another humming noise of calculation comes from the butler, and you prefer to warn him before his diamond mind comes up with a 'solution'.

"It's futile. I'll wait out the worst of it and then I'll eat. I promise?"

"I was actually thinking about how you said you feel guilty for not being able to finish your chores. Would you mind helping me with something small that I believe won't be a problem in your state?"

This blanket smells like Sebastian. Getting all cozied up in the chair by the kitchen counter, wrapped up in a blanket by no one other than Sebastian, you can't help but cheer up a little. It feels like being sick, but less sickness and more being taken care of. You were worried about the task you'll be presented with, but you doubt it can be that hard if he gets you all seated and comfy beforehand.

"I'm trying a set of new dishes for today's lunch. As you know, I hold our Masters' opinion in high regard and the food presented on their plates has to be impeccable."

And today of all days he has to cook by himself… you frown, raising your head from where it was nested in the blanket to offer your help. But Sebastian holds up a hand to signal letting him finish before you speak.

"I want you to do a round of taste-testing for me, nothing more, nothing less. Can you do that?"

You pause, understanding only just now your role. "I can, but… is my palate refined enough?"

"It is. Now, without further ado, open up."

With no room for complaints, the spoon is brought in front of your lips and you part them to let it in.

You've no idea what that's supposed to be, but it's delicious.

"They'll LOVE it."

"Are you sure? I think it has a bit too strong of a spicy aftertaste. Here, hold this and try the whole spoonful, I will bring you a drink."

You do as told, concentrating on the information registered by your taste buds. By the time Sebastian is back with a glass of water, you're done with your answer.

"Try adding a little more salt and it would be perfect."

"Right away." Like a magician doing a trick, Sebastian moves his hand over the pot and a pinch of salt is added. "Try again now."

"Mhm, that's better. What about the side dish?"

"It's here. Make sure to try all three garnishes. Then try this and this together. And then we'll decide on one of the two sauces I prepared, depending on which one compliments the dish best. Afterward, we'll proceed with the palate-cleansing salad from the five-course meal."

Your head spins with Sebastian's presentation as he brings multiple plates into your vision. He's so serious about this. It's impressive.

"They all look absolutely delicious already, Sebastian…okay, bring it on!"

Sebastian smiles, content with having a good helper like you.

Taglist: @arsnovacadenza @ale-teodora @kimi00twin @otomelady @privilegedpancake @g-kleran    @pumpumnnnp @thesirenwashere @ravenarld @kimmy-banana @devonares @galaxyprison @sadshaxk @starshards26 @thewitchofbooks @acethephoenix256 @ikevamp-shrine-2 @nad-zeta @crystal13unny @keen19thcenturygoatsstudent @lordsister @ikemen-banshou   @themysticalbeing @otome-scribbles @rhodolitesrose @coornn @kpop-and-otome @queen-dahlia @kisara-16 @chaosangel767 @ikemenlibrary @queengiuliettafirstlady @aurora-morning @aquagirl1978 ​ @ikemenlover24 @mcofthemansion @joy-the-reader @katriniac @ikemen-writer @tele86 @lovely-bubb1es @aria-chikage @babyblue0t7 @rhodoliteschaos @violettduchess @namine-somebodies-nobody Let me know if you want to be tagged/untagged!

As you lift another spoonful towards your mouth, you fail to notice just how content he is, attributing it all to his efforts to fill the mansions' stomachs with yummy food. This is what all of this is about…right?

[rafesbby]

Right in Front of Me

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x fem!kook!reader

Warnings: language, slight-cheating, kissing

Word Count: 1.0k+

Summary: Rafe and you have been best friends for as long as you can remember. What happens when one night he confesses his love for you?

A/N: Here's a simple one to get back into the swing of things. I'm gonna try and write more :)

----------

"Don't worry, if it's going horribly just text me and I'll save you." You chuckle as you watch Rafe, your best friend, get ready for his date.

"Can you save me even if it's going good?" Rafe replies, shooting you a smirk.

"No, tonight's a very important night for you. If this goes well, your days as a third wheel to me and Topper are over." You smile at him while you help adjust his tie.

Rafe and his date were going to River's Edge, a well-known and fancy restaurant that was popular amongst the kooks. You had suggested it when he said he had a date and he agreed.

"I regret saying yes to all of this." Rafe grimaces. "I'm putting way too much effort into it."

"Well, I think Nora will appreciate it." You look Rafe up and down. "She's one lucky girl."

"Yeah yeah, whatever." Rafe rolls his eyes. "Don't forget to save me later."

----------

It was around 8:30pm when your phone went off, no doubt that it was Rafe. You set down the book you were reading and grab your phone. Rafe's name along with a brief message was visible.

Rafe- save me

Y/n- that bad?

Rafe- save me now

Rafe- please

Y/n- okay I got you

You can't help but giggle as you dial Rafe's number. You really weren't expecting to have to rescue him this early, the date had only been going for an hour. When Rafe picks up you can hear a relieved exhale.

"Hey, Rafe. I know you're super busy right now, but I really need you to come home." You say jokingly.

"Shit, I'm actually in the middle of something. Will you be okay by yourself?" Rafe's acting sounds so believable you can't help but roll your eyes.

"No, I'm afraid I really need you." You can hear Rafe apologize and his chair scoot across the floor.

"Okay, I'll be right there." Rafe says rushed as he hangs up immediately.

----------

Fifteen minutes later Rafe is sitting on your bed spilling all the details about his unsuccessful date.

"Poor Rafe." You climb behind him on the bed and start rubbing his shoulders. "I'm sorry tonight was so weird. I thought she would be a good one." You frown.

Rafe's back leans into you as you continue his massage. From this angle you can see the soft smile on his lips and his closed eye lids.

"There are no good ones." Rafe groans. "The only good one is taken."

Your hands pause on his shoulders. His eyes open and glance up at you.

"What do you mean?" You ask. The mood in the room quickly shifts and Rafe sits up.

"Y/n...I'm tired of these stupid fucking dates every weekend when the girl I really want is right in front of me." Rafe turns around so he's facing you.

"Rafe, you know I'm with Topper. You know I would never do anything to hurt him." A panic swallows you whole.

"I'm not asking you to. I just want to know if you feel it too." Rafe brings his hand up to your cheek.

"Of course I do, Rafe. But that doesn't mean I don't love Topper, because I do." Rafe's hand drops away from your face and he looks away.

"Do you really think you belong with him?" Rafe's tone starts to sound angry. "You guys are horrible for each other."

"Rafe, where is this coming from?"

"I love you, Y/n. And I'm not going to apologize for it." When Rafe stands up, so do you.

He's waiting for you to say something. But you don't know what to say in this moment. You and Topper have been dating for almost two years. But you couldn't deny the attraction and feelings you felt towards Rafe.

Rafe reaches up and tucks a strand of your fallen hair behind your ear.

"Please say something. Anything. I just want to know what you're thinking." Both of Rafe's hands are cupped around your face, forcing you to look at him.

"I love you too." As soon as the words leave your mouth, you close your eyes. You hear Rafe's sigh of relief and then feel his forehead against your own.

"Y/n, thank fucking God. I don't know what I would have done if I didn't hear you say that." His thumbs sweep back and forth against your cheeks, his forehead still connected with yours, and his lips so close you could feel his breath.

A few seconds later and you feel Rafe's lips softly reach your own. He's gentle at first, almost hesitate as if to see if you would push away and resist. But you don't. You couldn't. You secretly have been waiting for this moment for years. The kiss becomes more fervent, more needy. Rafe's tongue meets yours and you get lost in the feel of his mouth on yours.

Your hands reach up to tug at his hair while Rafe's start to travel down your body. When he reaches the top of your shorts and begins to pull down, you step away.

"I'm sorry, I can't do this." Topper's face appears in your head. The guilt going straight to your stomach. "I think I'm going to be sick."

"Hey, it's okay." Rafe pulls you back in, wrapping his arms around your body. "I get it." He gives you a reassuring smile.

"Thank you for understanding." You rest your head on his chest, breathing in his sweet, intoxicating scent. Rafe kisses your forehead before picking you up and placing you on your bed.

"I should go. You need rest." Rafe begins to leave but in this moment all you want is his company.

"Rafe?" He stops and looks at you, his eyebrow raised in question as you continue. "Will you stay with me tonight?"

He smiles and shakes his head before making his way back and throwing himself on the bed.

"You don't have to ask me twice."

You reach up and switch the lamp off. Then you scoot closer to Rafe so you guys are facing each other.

"Thank you, Rafe." You kiss him one final time before snuggling into his neck. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight, my love." His finger rubs gentle circles on your arm as you drift off to sleep. "I love you so much."

[klbwriting]

Our Strange Duet

Chapter 3: Not Alone

Fandom: Red Hood

Pairing: Jason Todd x f!reader

Warnings: angst

Summary: audition time

Taglist: @deans-spinster-witch @amberpanda99

You're not alone. No one is alone - Into The Woods

The day of auditions Jason sought out YN after lit class, wanting to make sure she wasn't nervous. They hadn't been avoiding each other but it was a little awkward now, YN thinking she revealed too much and Jason wishing he could reveal more to her. He was working on it, opening himself up, but he was still terrified of putting himself out there again, especially with her. He knew that her mother getting accepted to that cancer program had been once in a lifetime, a last ditch effort to save her life, and that YN had to go with her but he still felt hurt, like she had let him down by leaving him. So many people abandoned him in his life and she was one of them now, and every time he wanted to throw himself off the ledge for her he froze at the edge, wondering if she would disappear again. He had asked Dick about it and of course Dick wanted him to take the leap, have faith in her, keep himself open, basically don't turn into Bruce. His therapist had a similar view but he also said that Jason had to make the decision himself because it wouldn't be fair to either of them for him to try and force himself into anything he wasn't ready for, it would only end in worse heartbreak. So here he was, following her out of the classroom, grabbing her arm in the hall, making her jump and yelp.

"Sorry!" he said, letting her go. She took a breath to calm down and nodded, giving him a smile. "I just wanted to see how you were? Auditions are later, are you nervous?" She nodded again.

"Ya, honestly I've never done a musical before, Gotham Academy looked down their snooty noses at them, plus I'm not exactly a very operatic singer. I think I'll probably end up being stage crew," she said. Jason frowned, not sure what he was hearing.

"I think you'll be amazing," he said. "And if you don't get a part they are idiots." She blushed a little and smiled at him, reaching out to take his hand like it was second nature, but stopped the moment her fingers brushed his, pulling back. He wasn't hers anymore, she couldn't just grab his hand whenever she wanted. She had left him, hurt him, and she couldn't expect him to just fall back in step with her because she wanted it. She dropped her hand by her side, but then he reached out and gently took her hand, squeezing it.

"Jason..." she said, not wanting him to force himself to do this.

"YN," he said in her same tone. She narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips and he felt the overwhelming urge to kiss her. He loved her slightly annoyed face, he loved all of her faces, but that love had that twinge of fear and hurt so he kept himself from moving closer to her. "I don't want you to think that you can't be honest with me, that you can't depend on me still. No matter what happened before I'm still your friend, still here for you and if you need to hold my hand for any reason you can." She nodded.

"Thank you," she said. "I have another class, see you before auditions?" He nodded and let her go, swearing that she walked away with his heart in her hands again.

As promised YN waited inside the auditorium, ten minutes early, for Jason to arrive. She was standing there singing to herself, making sure she enunciated her words, loosening her mouth up to prepare. She watched the door so much that a nearby theater member noticed.

"Got someone coming to see you?" she asked. YN looked over, blushing a little. "I'm Halle."

"I'm YN, and am I that obvious?" she asked. Halle laughed a little. Then Jason walked in and YN's eyes snapped to his and she smiled again. He looked annoyed, but when he saw her smiled back at her.

"O, I see now," Halle said. YN didn't move as Jason put his things down in the rows of chairs. She seemed frozen to the spot, doubts flowing through her head. That smile of his, the one he seemed to save for her, broke her heart now. What if she messed up? What if he ran this time? What if everything fell apart again and he was hurt? She was back in December when she had told him she was leaving, the way his face turned to hurt, she had become his father, his mother, Bruce, another on a list of people who left him. She hated being on that list. "Go get him," Halle muttered. YN snapped back to the present and nodded, willing herself to walk over to him. Nothing was holding her back from him this time, she could stay as long as he wanted her too. This time if he wanted rid of her he would have to leave her. She walked over to him, leaning on the back of the chair in front of him.

"You nervous?" she asked this time. He shook his head, but she saw his fists clenching and unclenching, and his eyes were a little green. "What happened?" she asked. That green only came around when he was feeling angry.

"Nothing," he said, trying to push down his emotions. On the way over he had read an article about Bruce Wayne's newest rescue puppy, Tim Drake. His rich parents had been killed and now he was an orphan and Bruce gallantly swept in to adopt him, the very picture of altruism. What a fucking joke. He was trying to keep himself from running, he needed theater, needed to be someone else right now, not run and hide somewhere. By the time his song was done he would be able to think clearly, just like always. He looked YN, seeing the worry on her face. "After auditions I'll talk to you ok? Right now I just...need to not be Jason." She nodded, this time reaching out and squeezing his hand. She held it for just a moment, supporting him.

Auditions started and men were first, Jason watching the upperclassmen preform before the freshmen. He focused on his song, getting into the phantom's headspace. He had watched anything he could find for this show over the last week, the movie, youtube videos of the live musical, the original black and white movie, anything to really dissect the phantom. He'd even read the book, only getting halfway through before auditions, but he would finish it. He was ready, he was getting this part and he would once again play a madman behind a mask. He did that almost every night now, should be easy.

"Jason Todd," the director said. He climbed on stage, hooking up his phone to the speakers for music. He swallowed hard before slipping on his new skin, body hunching a little, making himself look intimidating, but he looked down, hiding the half of his face with the scar on it, like he was ashamed of that part of his face. He became Erik, in love with someone who he could never have, someone who loved someone else more, he was a beast, he wasn't worthy of love.

"Nighttime sharpens, heightens each sensation, Darkness stirs and wakes imagination, Silently the senses abandon their defenses..." he began singing, and before he knew it the song was ending. This was surprising, no one else had been allowed to do the full song. He had expected them to use the little buzzer they had to stop him, but they hadn't. He had finished the song, going to his phone and disconnecting it. "Thank you." He walked off stage to two people in the crowd standing and clapping, YN and Dick, who must have snuck in one the auditions had already started. They looked so proud of him and he couldn't lie, he was proud of himself. Bruce was wrong, he wasn't replaceable to everyone. He waved to Dick who looked like he might burst, before going and sitting next to YN. Another freshmen finished and they said there would be a five minute break before the lady's auditions started. Jason stood, YN following him back to see Dick who hugged his brother.

"If you aren't the phantom I'm putting you in another school, this place doesn't deserve you," he said. Jason blushed, still not used to his brother being this way. Dick had changed also since he had moved in, he wasn't as cold as he had been when he first met Jason. He probably felt similar to how Jason felt now, seeing Tim Drake take his place, but the difference was that Bruce had eventually forced them together, making sure they became brothers, such good brothers that Dick had dug up his body to bring him back. Jason still wasn't sure why Dick did it, and he never told him, but he loved him for it. He let Dick hug him before turning to YN.

"What did you think?" he asked. Her eyes sparkled when she looked at him and he melted just a little.

"You were magic Jason, honestly," she said. "I can't wait to see you actually being Erik on stage." He broke down and hugged her after that. She clung to him and he felt the wall he build around himself chipping away, whole columns coming down at the feeling of her holding him again. She pulled back when they called for the lady's and headed up front. She stood next to Halle and they wished each other lucky.

It was the same format, upperclassmen first, and Jason could see YN started to get nervous as every other performer did a song from the show. It was the during the third rendition of Think of Me that he snuck up to the front, passing a note into YN's hand before sneaking back to sit in the exact middle of the theater. She looked at the note and opened it.

At least you stand out, you're amazing, sing to me, I know you'll kill it

She turned and found him. He smiled at her and waved. She waved back, reading the note a couple more times before her name was called. She went on stage, rolling out the portable piano that was kept backstage for band rehearsals. She sat down and introduced herself and her song.

"I'll be singing Driver's License, not the original but the Lewis Capaldi cover," she explained. The director nodded slowly, a small smile coming to her face. YN took a breath, not sure what that smile meant but she began, playing flawlessly as she slipped into character. She was heartbroken, she didn't need much to slip back into that state of mind, but she was still holding on that she might be with him again, which was also on her mind. She would pour herself into this, make them believe that even if she couldn't hit the high notes, she was still worth having in the show just for her acting abilities. She caught Jason's eye as they kept letting her sing, not buzzing her out right away either. As the song continued she found Jason in the auditorium, baring herself to him again, knowing he could bring out her best.

Red lights, stop signs I still see your face in the white cars, front yards Can't drive past the places we used to go Cause I still fucking love you

She finished the song and stood, moving the piano back. She bowed her head to them.

"Thank you," she said, going to join the others. Jason slunk back over to her, once again amazing her with how such a big guy could be so quiet when he moved. He sat next to her and smiled.

"You were amazing," he said. "They let you finish." She nodded, but she knew, she wasn't going to be the star, but maybe she could do something else, she was pretty sure that the director was listening to her piano skills more than her singing. After the others were finished they were dismissed, they would get an email with the cast list by Sunday.

Outside they stood, watching as the other theater members went back to their dorms or apartments. Dick said bye and told Jason to be home soon, they had something to do. YN knew that was code for 'taking out big bad criminals with our super secret identities' so she didn't ask follow up questions.

"You know, if you're out and about and you need help you can come to my place again," she said. Jason nodded, smiling at her. "And I look forward to seeing your name at the top of the cast list."

"Talk to you later?" he asked. She nodded, reaching out to him again, this time moving into his arms easily, hugging him close. He settled into her again, another piece of armor being dislodged. "Can we meet up this weekend? I want to talk to you again, just us this time." She nodded.

"Anytime your free I'll be free."

[euno11a]

Angst Taehyung x reader. 😭 please and thank you.

Warnings: fighting, arguing, yelling, leaving

The tension in the air was thick as you sat on the couch, arms crossed and glaring at your boyfriend, Taehyung. He had just walked in the door, looking exhausted and stressed, as usual. But this time, you couldn't hold back your frustration any longer.

'Where have you been?' you demanded, your voice sharp.

Taehyung sighed, running a hand through his hair. 'Work,' he replied simply, avoiding your gaze.

'Work? You mean the place that you spend every waking moment at, while ignoring me and our relationship?' you retorted, your voice rising in anger.

He finally looked at you, his eyes filled with guilt. 'I know I've been busy, but you know how important this project is for my career,' he said, his tone pleading for understanding.

You scoffed, uncrossing your arms and standing up to face him. 'Your career? What about our relationship? We barely see each other anymore, and when we do, you're always too tired to do anything,' you said, your voice trembling with emotion.

Taehyung's expression turned to one of frustration, and he raised his voice. 'Do you think I want to be working all the time? Do you think I enjoy not being able to spend time with you? But this is my dream, Y/N. I can't just give it up,' he yelled, his hands gesturing wildly.

Your heart clenched at his words, but you refused to back down. 'I'm not asking you to give up your dream, Taehyung. I just want you to find a balance. We used to do everything together, but now I feel like I'm not even a priority in your life,' you said, your voice breaking.

Taehyung's expression softened, and he reached out to take your hand. 'I'm sorry, Y/N. I'll try to make more time for us, I promise,' he said, his voice filled with sincerity.

But you couldn't help the tears that spilled from your eyes. 'It's not just about making time, Taehyung. It's about the effort and attention you put into our relationship. I want to feel like I still matter to you,' you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

Taehyung pulled you into a hug, and you buried your face in his chest, letting out all the emotions you had been holding back. 'I'm so sorry, Y/N. I'll do anything to make it up to you,' he whispered, his voice full of regret.

For the next few days, Taehyung made an effort to spend more time with you. He took you out on dates, cooked dinner for you, and even surprised you with small gestures of affection. But as much as you appreciated his efforts, you couldn't shake off the feeling that it was all just temporary.

One night, as you were lying in bed, Taehyung's phone rang. He groaned and reached over to answer it, and you couldn't help but feel a pang of annoyance. But when you heard the conversation, your heart sank.

'Sorry, I can't. I'm busy with Y/N tonight,' Taehyung said into the phone, his tone dismissive.

There was a pause on the other end of the line, and then you heard a deep voice say, 'Come on, Taehyung. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity. You can't pass it up.'

Your heart dropped as Taehyung replied, 'I'll see what I can do,' before hanging up.

He turned to you, a sheepish expression on his face. 'I'm sorry, Y/N. My boss needs me to work late tonight,' he said, his voice apologetic.

But you were done. You couldn't take it anymore. 'No, Taehyung. I'm not putting up with this anymore. You promised you would make time for us, but it's always work first,' you said, your voice shaking with anger.

Taehyung's face fell, and he reached out to grab your hand. 'Please, Y/N. I'll make it up to you, I promise,' he pleaded, but you shook your head.

'No, Taehyung. I'm tired of always being second best. I deserve someone who will put me first, not just when it's convenient for them,' you said, your voice firm.

Tears were streaming down your face as you packed a bag and left the apartment, leaving Taehyung alone with his thoughts. You didn't know where you were going, but you knew you needed time to think and figure out what you wanted.

Days turned into weeks, and you still hadn't heard from Taehyung. You tried to distract yourself with work and spending time with friends, but your heart was still heavy with the memories of your relationship with Taehyung.

One day, as you were walking home from work, you saw Taehyung standing outside your apartment building. You froze, unsure of what to do. But before you could make a move, he saw you and ran over, his eyes filled with regret.

'I'm sorry, Y/N. I know I messed up. I've been so focused on my career that I forgot about what's really important. You,' he said, his voice desperate.

You looked at him, your heart aching at his words. 'Taehyung, I love you. But I can't keep living like this. I need someone who will prioritize our relationship,' you said, your voice trembling.

Taehyung nodded, tears in his eyes. 'I understand. I'll do whatever it takes to make it right. I don't want to lose you,' he said, his voice breaking.

You both stood there, tears streaming down your faces, as you talked and worked through your issues. It wasn't easy, but you both made a conscious effort to communicate and find a balance between work and your relationship.

In the end, your love for each other was stronger than any argument or obstacle. And from then on, you both made sure to always put each other first, no matter how busy life got.