#and start the process again a couple months later or so

[feralfens]

[speed runs thickening the top soil layer in one spot]

[wannabe-skinni-qween]

TW!! 111 harsh wl quotes

nothing tastes as good as skinny feels

eat for the body you want, not the body you have

it may be a difficult process, but quitting won't speed it up

fat lasts longer than flavour

a moment on the lips, a lifetime on the hips

stop rewarding yourself with food, you're not a dog

30 minute workout, or 30 extra pounds?

whatever your problem may be, the answer is not in the fridge

you can't out exercise a bad diet

an imperfect body reflects and imperfect person

hungry to bed, hungry to rise, makes a girl a smaller size

what you eat in private, you wear in public

suck it up and one day you wont have to suck it in

you get what you work for, not what you wish for

it's better to resist than to regret

if you eat what you've always eaten, you'll weigh what you've always weighed

eat wise to drop a size

junk food you've craved for an hour, or the body you've craved for a lifetime?

every time you feel like giving up, remember why you started

every taste adds to the waist

this month's choices are next month's body

don't stop when it hurts, stop when you're done

summer bodies are made in the winter

if you're tired of starting over, stop giving up

in two weeks you'll feel it. in four weeks you'll see it. in eight weeks you'll hear it

just because you don't read food labels doesn't mean the calories don't exist

if you don't see the calories on the label, you'll see them later on your hips

every time you say "fuck it, i don't care" and eat that cookie, there's a 100% chance you'll care later

your stomach isn't growling, it's applauding

don't stop until you're proud

someone busier than you is running right now

when you lose all excuses, you'll find results

one day or day one

use food as fuel, not therapy

if you can't handle the fat jokes, lose the weight

overeating is always a decision, nobody forces the food into your mouth

suffer the pain of discipline, or suffer the pain of regret

follow your plan, not your mood

do what is right, not what is easy

you can't expect to succeed if you only put in work on the days you feel like it

i'm not starving, i'm perfecting my emptiness

not eating light makes your clothes tight

sacrifice is giving up something good for something better

if it was easy, everybody would be thin

craving is only a feeling

skip dinner, wake up thinner

the difference between want and need is self control

a cat says "meow meow" a dog says "woof woof" a pig says "i'll start tomorrow"

it's easier to workout than to wake up every morning and not like what you see

hunger hurts, but starving works

don't give up what you want the most for what you want in the moment

you've come too far in life to take orders from a cookie

thin is beautiful, even thinner is perfection

a month from now you can either have a month's worth of progress or a month's worth of excuses why you didn't

if you can pinch it, you can lose it

eat to live, don't live to eat

you can never be too rich or too thin

perfection is reached not where there isn't anything to add, but when there isn't anything to take away

respect yourself, put down the fork

when you resist the pain of hungry, it means you're not a slave to your body

every time you say no to food, you say yes to thin

empty is pure, starving is the eure

it's the mind that makes the body

there is no try, there is only DO

pain is temporary, pride is forever

thinner is the winner

if you don't fight for the body you want, don't cry for the body you have

imagine having one life on this earth and you spend it as a fat fuck

would you rather be at the gym covered in sweat, or at the beach covered in clothes?

until you're being accused of having an ed, you have a couple more pounds to lose

"i'm so fat" you say, taking another bite

eating won't kill you, but not eating will make you thin

aren't you tired of making the same excuses over and over again?

i don't even think you need to wear oversized clothes, your amount of body fat is oversizing you enough

you'd look so much prettier 20 pounds lighter

you don't want to embarrass him do you? then lose weight

you already know what it tastes like, so why eat it again?

you're fat. i'd sugarcoat it but then you'd eat that too

you binged? that's ok! somebody has to be the fat friend

if you have a skinny friend just remember, they probably use you as fatspo

skinny privilege is real

your morning skinny is someone else's evening bloat

if you can find the time to eat, you can find the time to workout

food is made to provide you with energy, not to fucking entertain you

if you treat food like an addiction, you're destined to fail

junk food is not a reward, it's a punishment

work out for 1 hour and feel amazing for the next 23 hours

if you're tired of starting over, stop giving up

if you want it, work for it

somebody else's starting weight is your goal weight

stop being jealous of her body and start doing something about yours

the fact that you aren't where you want to be should be motivation enough

it's all fun and games until your jeans don't fit anymore

need motivation? just sit infront of the mirror naked

making excuses burns zero calories

don't let the weekend become your weak end

three months from now you will thank yourself

imagine the weight you are losing is going to the person you hate

do not use your stomach as a trash can

you are what you eat. eat shit. feel shit look shit. or, eat good. feel good. look good

make it happen girl, shock everyone

so you can sit down and still have a flat stomach

losing weight is hard. being fat is hard. choose your hard

no matter how many mistakes you make or how slow you progress, you're still way ahead of everyone who isn't trying

a little progress each day adds up to big results

if not now, then when?

you are what you eat, so don't be cheap, fast, easy or fake

look down at your plate and ask, "is this going to make me feel good?"

i am powerful enough to resist temptations

you're not hungry, you're just bored

look in the mirror. that's your competition

this took a long time so please enjoy xx

[dduane]

Do you have any recommendations on what to do when you can’t write?

I’ve been struggling to write for years, but telling stories is all I want to do. I have ideas and plots and characters all figured out! But actually getting the words onto paper? I just can’t do it. There’s a mental block or something getting in the way.

I want to write, I so badly do. I want to tell my stories! But no matter how hard I try, no matter how much I love the story, the words never work properly. I can day dream scenes up perfectly, but as soon as I’m near paper the words all vanish.

I guess what I’m actually asking is: how did you defeat the blank page?

Well, first of all, I can confidently tell you that your storytelling per se is working just fine. You just told me a perfectly cogent story right there, in writing. So that's good to know.

Now let me put your mind a little at rest by telling you something reassuring about the Writer's Brain:

It's not the sharpest knife in the block, if you take my meaning. It can be tricked. It can be fooled. It can be bamboozled into working when it doesn't want to... sometimes with embarrassing ease. (And this approach is, by and large, far preferable to sitting around over-analyzing one's interior life to figure out what went wrong with your developmental process somewhere in the dim lost past. Just hornswoggle the silly thing into working and then do the analysis later, if you can be bothered.)

Sometimes just changing something basic in the process the Writer's Brain is expecting is enough to make it lose the plot (so to speak...) and let you get on with work. And in your case I'd say, more or less immediately: Have you tried telling the story to yourself out loud, recording it, and then transcribing the recording?

Because this problem is a commonplace among storytellers. Sit them down in the pub and give them tea or a drink and start them going, and you'll get half an effortless hour of hilarious prose about What The Cat Did In The Middle Of The Night or When The Neighbors Were Fighting In The Street Again Yesterday. But show them blank paper, or an empty screen, and (now that the pressure to perform is suddenly in place) they freeze.

So try doing an end run around your writing brain. Borrow or otherwise procure a little recorder of some kind. (Or if you've got a smartphone, add a voice recording app to it.) Go get comfortable somewhere and get yourself into that daydream state, and then—making sure the recorder's on—start talking.

It doesn't have to be perfect unblemished prose. The pursuit of that comes later, after draft zero-minus-one. Just tell the story... or some of it. Or a fragment of it. Even a few paragraphs is a triumph, in a situation like this. You may, during the recording, have to talk yourself into the story stage by starting out talking about something else first. Let that happen.

Then when you're done recording, listen to it and transcribe it (typed or handwritten, as you please).

And maybe a day later, do this again. And a day or two later, once more. And so forth.

You're going to have to keep at this, because your Writer's Brain may start suspecting what you're up to, and try throwing spanners into the works. (Its favorite being "Oh, this isn't working, I may as well give up..." Pay no attention to that nagging little voice behind the curtain. Just keep doing what you're doing. Persistence is a superpower.)

The thing to keep reminding yourself, as you settle into this process, is that sooner or later the WB's resistance is going to flag, because you really do want to tell stories. It does too. What you have to teach it is that—to coin a phrase—resistance is useless. :)

Anyway: give this a try. You'll need to be doing this daily for at least a couple of months to find out whether it works or not. So let me know how it goes.

(BTW: once you've broken through the barrier, you may well find that dictation is a good routine way for you to generate your first draft. At that point—should you feel inclined to go a little higher-tech than recording and hand transcription—let me recommend Dragon Anywhere. This is a month-to-month subscription version of Dragon's flagship text to speech program—the one @petermorwood and I got Terry Pratchett to use when he started having difficulty typing. I use Anywhere a lot, on days when it's easier to write stretched out or lying down than it is sitting up. It transcribes what you say, and then you can just email it to yourself and cut-and-paste it into your writing document. Very handy.)

Hope this helps!

[kaivenom]

How would Benedict Bridgerton court you... HCS

Masterlist

You both first crossed glances at a ball, you were not a debutant, just passing around, just like his sister Eloise, you weren't much interested on claiming attention, but you catched his.

His first thought when he saw you in the back of the salon, tapping your feet to the rythm of the song while looking at a big painting was that he needed to paint you.

He spent the rest of the night, admiring you from the distance, until you both almost bumped into each other.

Inmediatly he took the chance and asked you to dance.

It was the funniest night you both had, cause after the dance, you talked about art, and drinked, and danced again, all night until your mother decided it was time to leave.

After that night, you didn't heard from him in a couple of weeks, you almost thought he forgot about you.

The thing was that he was collecting information about you, everything he could find that he knew you would like.

Then a bouquet of your favourite flowers came to your door, signed by the name of "Your artist", you knew it was him, but he surely wants to be romantic so you let him be.

A couple of days later, your favourite crystals, and then gems, and fabrics, and art supplies.

With this routine of secretism, a couple of months passed by with his gifts demostrating that he knows you.

You saw each other a couple more times during balls and dances, until you decided to approach him again.

"Why do you sent me notes but not talk to me?"

"I want you to see that i can know you better than anyone, plus i want you to be as crazy in love for me as i am for you."

A smile escaped both of your lips, suddently you had an idea.

You dropped your fan carefully and he inmediatly get down to pick it up.

"So... that's how you like to play then." he told you with a smirk.

"You said you wanted me to get crazy about you, who says i can't play that game too?"

"Then we both must play."

The once innocent game of knowing each other turned into a rollercoaster of temptation.

Small touches while dancing, innapropiate comments while talking in public, purposely moving to the corner of the room to have more privacy with your not so discreet behaviour.

(I firmly believe that Benedict is a switch with a very brat behaviour, so picture that)

Until your mother decided that you were going to marry a noble.

Thats when the game stopped and started to get serious.

Benedict distanced himself from you and you got so sad from the lonelyness that awaited your future that you wouldn't leave your room.

Your mother didn't let you alone in any social act, that means that you can't talk to him... ike that could make a change.

One week until the wedding and everything feels bad when suddently you received a bouquet of your favourite flowers with a note.

"I will not cut you like this flowers, but i will keep you to myself no matter how, with love Your Artist.

You almost broke in tears right there, your mother entered the room with your future husband to finish some business.

They didn't even care to ask you what happened, the just talked about your future like nothing.

One of the servants announced Benedict and everyone on the room turned around.

"I am here to propose."

"Too late, she is my fiancee." you couldn't believe what was happening.

"I double the endowment, my mother and brother approved it."

You know your mother will marry you to the best match she could find, which means the one who could provide more money.

After verifying everything was right, your mother inmediatly sent out your now ex-fiancee and welcomed with open arms your new husband.

"How?" you asked him, still processing.

"I intended to send you that flowers yesterday, i don't know why they got today." he sounded more concerned about his time planning that your tear, "Oh, you mean all the other things, sorry for ignoring you, once you got engaged my family forced me to separate myself to not staint your virtue... so i was convincing them to let me marry you."

"I..." you kissed him on the lips with passion, with all the emotions you've been keeping inside.

"I think we should wait to the weeding night, in a week." your eyes opened surprised while he justs smirks, "I didn't want any longer to kall you mine, so i managed to get a wedding licency too."

"I love you."

"I know, and i love you too."

[merrymorningofmay]

thought i’d share another thing i made here :’)

i started working on this thing back in january, as russian troops were gathering around our borders, and i got around to finishing it a couple months later, after they retreated from kyiv and my lucky family and i were able to get back home.

for half of the process i was asking myself, “is making this even worth it if it’s going to be bombed to ashes in a couple of weeks?” (the answer was yes); for the other half, i was asking myself how and why do you even make a house now that there are dead and gutted houses all around (the answer was “well, what else is there to do anyway”).

was aiming for the “small ukrainian granny’s apartment” vibe with soviet era “ugly 70s brown” color furniture and a bit of a witchy/magical realism touch :’) details + a bit of ukrainian folk trivia below!

featuring:

a little pot with a star in it, because stealing stars from the sky and storing them in pots for their evil little purposes is a classic ukrainian witch thing;

eastern orthodox icons, because every respectable ukrainian granny has those in her house + massive church-sanctioned witch hunts were never really a thing in ukraine and a witch is likely to have as amiable a relationship with god and saints and angels as with chorts (demons);

portrait of taras shevchenko, adorned with a rushnyk, because, again, can not be a proper granny apartment without those;

a blooming fern, because fern bloom is a Thing in ukrainian folklore (leads you to a hidden treasure, protects you from evil magic, brings you good luck, all that stuff);

a calendar booklet. it has recipes, farming + (dubious) medical advice, lame granny jokes, and shows February 25, because we’re still stuck in February 24 and hoping for the next day to arrive;

a mysterious tiny door. that rune means “heritage,” and i thought that a witch’s inheritance would warrant a little spooky door to keep it safe (also, our heritage is precisely what russia is trying to take away from us right now, so the concept has a special meaning to me);

fashionable pink slippers!

bonus: a CREATURE

[luveline]

begging on my hands and knees (if you haven’t already) for you to write something about Aaron during the birth of your child 🥲🥲 and jack’s reaction to meeting his new sibling

You suffer through labour, Aaron dotes, and Jack meets his baby sister. fem, 2k

cw for labour/delivery, no graphic imagery

For some people, giving birth is a fast affair. Dilation occurs quickly, and after twenty or so pushes, a baby is born. Some people can go into labour and be finished within the hour. 

You, unfortunately, have not had that kind of luck. And that’s okay —it’s also entirely normal for this process to be difficult. Doesn’t make it hurt any less to watch, but Aaron has thick skin. Who cares what he’s feeling? You’re about to have a baby. 

He stands at the head of the bed with his arm over your pillow, tired despite himself, a styrofoam cup of ice chips in his hand. He presses it to your cheek, and every couple of minutes he changes it to the other one. Your forehead is wet with sweat, your face puffy with sobbing tears, but you’re beautiful in your sleep. Beautiful to him. 

He leans down to press a kiss to your forehead where he stays for some time. Your heart monitor beeps. 

A few minutes later, your heart monitor jumps. A strike of pain to warn of an oncoming contraction. 

You drag yourself from sleep to find his eyes. “Hi,” you whisper. 

He doesn’t know what to say. What can sum it up? Aaron doesn’t think he’s felt this many emotions in his life; he thinks of Jack, his baby face, and he thinks of Haley squishing his pink cheeks; he thinks of your hands, how chapped your palms are, how much he hates to see you crying like this; he thinks of your little baby so close to being here, and all your months of triumph and love and good luck to get to this moment. 

This is the biggest privilege of his life, in line with Jack’s birth. 

He doesn’t feel like he deserves it, but he makes himself a man who could deserve you. “Hello,” he says, pressing the back of his hand to your raging forehead. “How are you feeling?” 

“It has to be time soon.” 

“You think so? Should I find someone?” 

He speaks in solid but hushed tones, as though a raised voice might hurt you more. You find his chest to press your hand to space above his heart, where you give him a little rub back and forth. “No,” you say, tears welling in your eyes as the monitor spikes, “not yet.” 

He helps you into a sitting position which quickly becomes a bent over and keening position. Aaron obviously doesn’t know how childbirth feels, but he has experienced his own scar tissue ripping apart inside his abdomen as his organs flooded with his own blood. By the looks of it, you’re hurting worse than that. You don’t even speak. Your moans turn to panicked shouting before you get so scared your voice disappears. 

He doesn’t like it at all. He waits a good long minute with you for the pain to pass, his hand in yours as you squeeze it to mulch, his nose pressed remorsefully to your cheek. It fades like all the others. 

“I know,” he says as you start to cry in earnest, “it’s over. It’s over.” 

“It’s not over,” you snip, sniffing. 

He leans over your lap to press the button that asks for help. “You’re doing amazing.” 

It’s a hard night. At nearing one in the morning, they measure your dilation and agree it’s time to push. You tolerate it well, but it still takes two and a half hours of agony and tears. Aaron doesn’t cry, but he does feel an acute ache for you, and an excitement you probably can’t feel yourself. Every push is one step closer to the baby. 

Just after three hours, when the midwives are whispering to one another in concern and Aaron is sure he’ll never feel his left hand again, you have a baby. 

She’s snipped, cleaned up, and laid gently on your chest within seconds. You’ll never know how whole and brimming Aaron’s heart feels in that moment, to see you crying against the little forehead of your baby, to watch your arms cradle her body tenderly. 

He’s sure everyone in the room will forgive him for crying too. Just a couple of tears, smiling as you look down at her in pure joy. No shock, no sign of all that pain. 

“Oh, fuck, Aaron,” you say suddenly, to the delight of everyone in the room, “she’s got your frown.” 

She’s screaming, as babies tend to do. Aaron presses himself as close as he can to confirm the wrinkle between her brows. 

“I’m sorry,” he says, kissing your cheek. 

You breathe out deeply. “It’s okay. I forgive you.” 

Sorry for the pain and gunk. You forgive him for everything. 

You’re feeling nearly yourself again when morning comes, Aaron can tell. Showered, changed, swaddled with post-labour padding and with half a sandwich in your stomach, he can nearly forget the sound of your panicked crying. You’re hoarse as though you’ve been out for the night with friends, whispering clumsy love notes to your daughter where she naps in your lap. 

“So pretty,” you say, running an awed fingertip over her nose, “so beautiful, baby. You’re so beautiful. Look at your liccle nose.” You dip into sugar. “Aw, look at your nose.” 

“That’s your nose,” he says. 

“I think so.” 

She’s a baby so it’s hard to say for sure, but Aaron hopes she has your lovely nose and that she looks exactly like you, if she only keeps his wrinkled brow. 

You lean back. The bed has been wiped down and changed, your pillow from home propped behind your shoulders. Jack’s good luck talisman sits on the night table, waiting for him to visit. Aaron has been away for weeks, sometimes months at a time, and still he misses him after not seeing him these last eighteen hours. 

“He’s on his way, right?” you ask, noticing Aaron’s quiet. 

Aaron picks up Mr. Bear where he sits on the nightstand and massages the teddy’s arms and stomach. “Can’t you hear him?”

“My sister!” Jack is saying, words too fast to pick up each one, “Jess, we have to be faster!” 

“I’m going as fast as I can, sweetheart!” 

Aaron meets him at the door. Jack sees his father, probably just the shape of him, and starts to run down the hallway. He slams into Aaron’s legs, who pulls him up against his chest for a two-armed hug that he couldn’t need more. 

“Jackers,” he says in relief.

“Dad, put me down!” He must see you over Aaron’s shoulder. “Y/N! You’re okay!” 

“I’m more than okay, handsome! Were you worried about me?” 

“Is that my baby?” he says, rubbing his eyes with both hands.

You, Aaron and Jess all laugh. “Your baby sister. Are you gonna come and say hello? She’s been waiting for hours for you to wake up,” you say.

“I was waiting for her for hours first,” Jack says, climbing over Aaron’s shoulder, and then slipping back down as his father walks him into the hospital room to stop by your bed. 

Jess stays by the door. 

Aaron puts Jack on the bed beside you where there’s not much room for him, hands clasped around his arms just in case he does something sudden. “Oh,” Jack says, breathing out slowly. “Wow, dad.” 

“Wow,” Aaron echoes. 

“Can I touch her?” 

Assured he’ll be careful, Aaron lets Jack loose, and the boy waits for your signal before he pokes at the baby’s fisted hand. 

“She’s really little, huh?” you ask quietly. 

“Was I this little?” 

“You were smaller,” Aaron whispers. 

“She’s a real baby, dad.” 

“She’s super real. Does she look like you pictured?” Aaron asks. 

“No, I thought she’d look more like me.” 

This is really funny to you. Careful, you hold the baby to your chest and free an arm to cup Jack’s shoulder. “Buddy, I missed you. Aunt Jess says you stayed up past your bedtime, how are you feeling?” 

He smiles and goes shy at the same time. “I’m okay. I missed you, too.” 

“That’s good, I’m feeling good too.” You sniffle. 

“Are you sure?” Jack asks. 

“This is the best day ever. My little girl meeting her big brother.” You take a steadying breath, and you turn the baby toward Jack gently. “Do you wanna hold her?” 

Jack sits against your pillows and waits with pale terror on his face for you to pass him the baby. He bends over her as soon as she’s been placed, worried she’ll tip out of his lap, and you stroke the short brown strands of his hair, crops of it moving shiny under your touch. 

Aaron takes his phone from his pocket. In his rush, he struggles to find the capture button, recording a video instead that will take up most of the memory on his old phone and that he will refuse to part with. 

“Did she look like this in your belly?” Jack asks you, frowning. 

“Not the whole time. Why, does that bother you?” 

“Was she squished?” 

“No, she wasn’t squished. ‘Member how big my belly was?” You laugh warmly. “How big it still is.” 

“Will it ever be small again?” 

“Maybe somebody. I don’t mind.” You stroke his hair again. Baby makes a wet noise. “What do you think, lovely?” 

“About your belly?” 

“About the baby.” 

“I wish I was her.” 

You stroke behind his ear. “How come?” 

“I’m so tired, I wish I was sleeping too. But she is really small.” 

Aaron catches your relieved smile before he puts down the phone. “Do you want a nap, buddy? We can take a nap.” 

“I can take him home?” Jess suggests quietly. 

Aaron thanks her for everything. When you’re feeling better, he’s sure you’ll want to introduce Jess to the baby as well, but Jess doesn’t want to impose, and Aaron lets her go without fuss. Perhaps it’s a little hard on her to see. He doesn’t know. 

But Jess is a good woman, and he knows she’ll want to meet your baby whenever you’re ready. For now, it’s just you, Aaron, Jack, and the baby Hotchner.

Aaron sits in the plastic wrapped chair by the bed and leans back to accommodate sleepy Jack, who falls asleep with little more than a back rub and his family’s proximity. You look like you could sleep, too, but you won’t put the baby in the bassinet. You hold her and watch her for a soothing stretch of time, Aaron watching you both. 

“He’ll be more enthusiastic after he’s slept,” Aaron promises. 

You pucker and press teeny kisses to the baby’s ear. “He was perfect,” you murmur. “He was so gentle. We’re so lucky.” 

Aaron reaches over to hold your hand. You indulge him with an open palm, the two of you shushing in tandem as your children rouse, both of them perfect, and both parents very lucky. 

[macabr3-barbi3]

CTRL ALT DELETE- Task Manager (Vox/Reader)

Something's up with Vox and you offer to help troubleshoot- it both does and does not go how you're expecting it to.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/54688282

The least serious thing I've ever written: inspired by the time i started a timer in class one day to see how long my teacher talked about her son instead of teaching us; i ended up realizing 4 months later that i never stopped the timer and it was just running in the background and making my shit slow that entire time lmao there's a screenshot in the ao3 notes

Tags: Stress Relief, Sexual Tension, Chair Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Begging, Computers. Dirty Talk, very basic knowledge of computers

<3<3<3<3<3<3

Your new boss seemed stressed. 

Not in the usual way that he was stressed, either- the note from the assistant you had replaced was that usually when Vox was having an off day he would call for Valentino or have you pull a list of low earners for the month, banishing you from the room in either case. But he hadn’t spent any time with Val in months, basically the entire time that you’d been working with him as a personal assistant after getting promoted from a stage grunt for the news channel.

You had thought for a bit that he might make a move- that maybe that was why he promoted you, that he was charmed enough by you to end the on/off thing he had going on with Val, which made sense based on the timing. But when you tested that theory recently- made double entendres, brushed your hands against his arms or leg or back, blatantly invited him out for dinner and drinks- he didn’t seem interested. He declined your invite, allowed you to touch him without being overcome with lust, and the sex jokes just seemed to go whoosh. 

Right over his head. 

He was on edge and twitchy. He took longer to respond to things than he normally did, his processors slow, occasionally getting a ‘buffering’ message that flashed across his screen when someone asked a question. His hypnotic eye seemed to be suffering as well, the swirls having slowed down now to the point that they were no more mesmerizing than watching paint dry. It was frustrating and enraging him, and in turn frustrating you- he was fucking hot when he was angry, which didn’t help your attraction to him that he was ignoring. 

He was sitting at his desk in the control room when you entered, head in his hands as he stared at a piece of paper on his desk. The monitors were all lit behind him, showing recorded footage of the Tower throughout the day- you spotted a short recording of yourself talking to some of the marketing team a few hours ago. Like a Valentino caricature he read the paper, blinked his eyes a couple times, read it again. Picked it up and pulled it closer to his face like that would help, and his screen scrolled the words along the bottom like his internal system was trying to transcribe it so something he could understand. He finally dropped the paper with a groan, letting it flutter to the floor where it slipped under his chair and stopped just before you. 

“Are you okay, sir?” The question is out before you can stop it, and as was the normal recently it took a few minutes for him to answer. 

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” he muttered, swiveling around to look at you. He clutched the sides of his screen, eyes narrowed and mouth delayed in its movements as he spoke. “I feel like I can’t focus on anything. I can’t process anything. My- just, fucking everything is slow and useless in my head right now! How am I supposed to be a master media manipulator when I can’t fucking concentrate for more than two minutes at a time?”

“You have seemed more… stressed than usual,” you agree. “Are none of your usual relaxing activities helping? Or have you done any troubleshooting?”

He raises an eyebrow. “Pardon?”

“Troubleshooting,” you say again, and at his blank stare you chuckle a little. “You know, doing a couple ‘quick fix’ things to see if that’s what’s causing the problem. Do you have like, a cache or something that you have to clear? An archive dump to get rid of old files?” You let your eyes track his body from top to bottom. “I’m not super familiar with how your… anatomy works?”

God, but you wanted to be.

He blinks a couple times. “I think I used to have someone that did that for me,” he says. “Years ago. I fired them because it didn’t seem necessary, I was running perfectly fine.”

“Yeah, well, that might be what the problem is.” You offer him a soft smile. “Sometimes stuff will work in sub-optimal conditions for a while before it starts causing issues. I used to do programming customer support when I was alive- it’s been a while but I could take a look if you want?”

His mouth twists in a frown. “I guess so,” he agrees. “I’m desperate enough to try anything. I need to be able to fucking concentrate if the Vees are gonna stay on top, everyone fucking knows that Val is hopeless with the business aspect of everything.” He gets the buffering symbol on his screen for a few seconds, groaning and shaking his head as he clears. “What do you need access to?”

“Do you have a way to access your… system? Externally,” you clarify. “I’m not a surgeon- I don’t plan on cutting into you to get to anything.”

Vox gestures behind him. “I can hook up to the monitors,” he says, “but we’ll have to be pretty close, doll. I have to be sitting here to be hooked up, and since this is the only chair, looks like this will have to be your seat.” He pats a hand on his thighs, not so much an invitation as a statement.

You fucking wished. You know this isn’t him trying to initiate anything though- you’d been trying for long enough that you’re ready to give it up and just accept that your hot, overlord boss didn’t want to fuck you. Helping him out felt more important than that anyway, so you would do your best.

“You got it,” you say, and cross the remaining space to perch yourself gracefully on his lap. You push the inappropriate thoughts about how firm his muscles are underneath you- how exactly did this man’s body work? Was it really just his head that was not organic matter?- and let him rotate the chair back to face the monitors.

The sight is intimidating, as is the position- you’re surrounded by reflections of yourself from every angle, Vox’s lithe frame seated behind you. This is where he does most of his business, the background site of everything that VoxTec handles. And he’s trusting you to help him fix whatever is wrong with him so he can get back to handling all of that, free of distraction.

You watch as thick wires come up from the floor to plug into the back of his head, the sharp hiss making you wonder if it was painful or intrusive. You won’t ask though, not when you’re getting ready to try to restore him to his usual ruthless self; he might consider that to be prying.

He pulls something up on the main monitor, the one that sits directly across from you, and waves a hand to it. A little keyboard and mouse emerge from the desk as the monitor powers on, and when you glance back you can see the same thing reflected on his face. “Have at it,” you hear him say, even though you can’t see his mouth moving.

Ignoring his open programs for the time being in case he needs any of them, the first thing you do is go in and clear his archived files. He’s got entire terabytes of useless information; employee records for people that have been dead or fired for decades; funny videos that he saved; resources for old news stories that are no longer relevant. Some of it you help him upload to a cloud server- after explaining to him what a cloud server is- and create files to designate for actual important shit.

You find the internal browser that he uses to pull information on the fly and help him clear the cache and cookies.

You help him sort security footage from Vee Tower and get rid of stuff that wasn’t actually necessary, like the short bits of static and dead air that happened whenever he used the cameras to teleport around the building. Everything that he has saved about mentions of that fucking radio demon also goes into the garbage. There are some files you can’t access, things like his memories and day to day recordings of conversations and things that he personally is part of. 

You delete what you can and empty the recycling bin.

As the process has gone on, Vox has relaxed more and more behind you. “I still don’t feel completely back to normal,” he murmurs, “but this is already loads better. It’s like a massage directly on my brain. You know, if I still physically had one.”

You hit the keys to open his task manager- CTRL ALT DELETE. “Unholy fuck- Jesus, sir, if you thought that was good this is gonna feel orgasmic,” you say absently, scrolling through the opens apps and programs that he has running. Has this man ever closed anything? You hadn’t realized a person or device could even have so many things going at once. “Do you just leave everything open in the background?”

He peers around your shoulder, bracing his hands on your hips as he sits up a little straighter. The movement causes your stomach to drop, arousal threatening to make itself known, but you push the notion down as he sets his hands back on the arms of the chair. “I guess so?” He watches you scroll through the extensive list. “I guess it just never occurred to me to close them. Opening the programs to use is just like my stream of consciousness I suppose.”

“Kay, well, that’s stopping now.” You click on the first item on the list- VoxtaGram. “I recommend closing non-essential stuff out at least once a month. More, if you have the time to go through everything. For now, just in case, there is something important we’re gonna go through some of the more recently opened things, set them up to open automatically when you start up, before we reboot your system- wait, can we reboot your system entirely without killing you?”

“No worries there, dear. I can, I just haven’t done it in years because it can take a while to start back up afterwards.” He sneers at the social media page. “You can close that shit. Any of Velvette’s crap she can handle on her own. Same with any of the fucking games that Val loads up when he’s bored- can I delete those entirely? Or block them? Fucking moth and his blue-light addiction…”

You get through a lot of the list, Vox kind of dozing off and only passively participating in the process. You’ve got the gist of it; things like his news sources, contacts list and phone, and the notes app are staying open and set to automatically launch when he does reboot and start back up. Pretty much everything else is closed out, things he pulled up for two seconds weeks ago to check on something or another before abandoning it. You’re making excellent progress when the next thing on the list gives you pause.

“Vox? Why is this- oh my god.” You can’t help it- you start laughing, throwing your head back to rest on his shoulder as you look at what’s now displayed on the screen.

A stopwatch had apparently been started and never stopped. The elapsed time was over three thousand hours, which came out to something like four months if your mental math was correct. He had had this running constantly in the background since you had started working for him, possibly even before. “I think I found the problem,” you chuckled, and his eyes were narrowed as he looked at the timer continuing to tick. “What is this?”

“What the actual fuck?” He buffers for a second- and you’re pleased to note that it’s already much faster than it has been lately- before you hear a dinging sound coming from him. ‘Fucking Hell, I should have known this was all Valentino’s fault.” He drags a clawed hand down his screen in an imitation of a facepalm. “I was timing him. He was fucking ranting about Angel Dust again while we were in a strategy meeting with Velvette- I had the stopwatch going to see how much of the hour session he wasted talking about that whore. I must have forgotten to turn it off.” He barks out a laugh, throwing his head back with the force of it while you look at him with amusement. “I’m gonna owe you big time for this, doll, you’re a lifesaver.”

You close the app out with a smile. “Just trying to help,” you say. “I think that was probably the worst of it- do you want to just try rebooting now?”

He lets out a groan when the app closes, and the sound shoots through your body straight to your core. “Go for it, hun,” he says, eyes closed as he leans back against the chair. “I think I’m good to go now, but it can’t hurt. You were right, sorting this shit out feeling fucking good.”

You’re suddenly very aware of the dampness of your panties as you bypass ‘kinda horny’ straight to ‘fuck me on this desk.’ You scold yourself mentally: Don’t jump your boss. He’s trusting you to help him right now- do not take advantage of that. Do not ride his leg like you very clearly want to because his voice is fucking hot. Fucking focus.

You clear your throat, closing out the task manager and hitting the button to restart him. “See you in a bit, sir.”

You stay seated on his lap just in case- he might still have something he wants you to do when he comes back online, some settings you could apply to close out things that are used for more than a week or so. It’s definitely not because you like the feeling of his strong thigh underneath you, tantalizingly close to your cunt if you, by chance, decided to tilt your hips forward and start grinding down on him. 

After just a few minutes get a message on the main monitor telling you to wait a moment- things start popping up on the other screens surrounding the central one, and it takes you a moment to recognize the pattern.

Its all videos of you- shot from Vox’s perspective, and a mortifying blush takes over your face. They’re all the moments that you had tried coming onto him. The innuendos and subtle entendres, the times that you touched him, pressed yourself against him in a tight space despite having another way to get to the copy machine, when you had invited him out for dinner. There’s also videos where he had just been watching you, apparently, taken from a distance as you spoke with Velvette or passed instructions along to a member of the team or discreetly tried to hide behind a vending machine when you noticed  Val coming into a room. 

There’s a satisfied grumble behind you, and before you can turn to look at him Vox has settled his claws onto either side of your waist and shifted you over a bit, to rest directly on the erection straining his pants. 

Which is a surprise, albeit a pleasant one.

“Thanks for the reset, doll,” he says, and his voice is a quiet growl as he lets his hands wander from your waist to your hips and back again, claw tipped fingers catching on the fabric. “I got a chance to look at some files while I was under and found quite the treat in your logs.”

This could either be very bad or very, very good. “Sir-”

“You know, I’m usually pretty good at picking up what a woman is putting down. Imagine my surprise when I realize you’ve been coming onto me for weeks and my shit was so fucked up and bogged down that I didn’t even notice. Like that?” He uses one hand to point to a screen in the far left of the central monitor, while he snaked his other hand down to rest on your thigh, his hand large enough to encompass the muscle at the edge of your skirt. On the screen, you had come to his office to drop off meeting notes for something you attended on his behalf. You had dropped the stack as you came around his side of the desk, and got down fully on your knees to pick them up, glancing up at him through your lashes. You blush watching it now- it had seemed obvious to you even then, but watching it now, the way that Vox had seen it? When he didn’t say anything about you being face level with his prick you had used a hand on his thigh to brace yourself to stand up, letting your fingers run along the inner seam of his trousers when you rose back to standing. Still no reaction, and you had left his office equal parts turned on and irritated with yourself. Him not having acted on it had been the final nail in the coffin cementing the fact that he was not interested in the slightest.

You let out a weak exhale as the Vox sitting under you gets his other hand in the same position as the first, using his grip to ever so slightly spread your legs on his lap. He lets his fingers skim your inner thighs and you shake with the effort of not begging him to just touch you. This was delicious, agonizing torture.

“Had I been in my right mind for that display, baby, I would have fucking ṛ̣̬̫̍͌ͩ͟ụ̴̴̾̀͟͡i̧̻̻͉̜͑ͪ̾͟n̫̫̘̗͕̲̲̎ͥḛ̡̰̳͓̥ͬ͋ͪͧd̶̵̯̯̼̘ͨ̓ y͙͙̪̰ͫ͌́o͙͙̙̘̙ͤͫ͞ụ̴̴̾̀͟͡.” His voice crackles and glitches on the last words, and the sound of it forces a moan from your throat as you let your head fall back. You clutch your hands to the arms of the chair as his tongue- and who even really knew he had a tongue, what the fuck?- licks down the side of your jaw and at your exposed neck. “I would have had you choking on my cock before getting a taste of that sweet cunt and fucking you into the desk for hours.”

One hand finally slips under the edge of your skirt and you shiver when his fingers make contact with your soaked core. “Is that what you want now, babygirl? You want me to give you my cock as thanks for helping to set me straight? To make up for lost time?” He slides a finger under the thin material of your panties, groaning in your ear at how slick he finds you. “That’s what I want, doll. I want you to ride me so hard you go stupid with the feeling, and you never feel whole without some part of me in your cunt for the rest of for-fucking- ḛ̡̰̳͓̥ͬ͋ͪͧv̹̹̘̼̞̻͆ͩ̓ͪ͢ḛ̡̰̳͓̥ͬ͋ͪͧṛ̣̬̫̍͌ͩ͟.”

“Fuck, please,” you gasp out, the word devolving into a cry as Vox finally slides a finger into you, mindful of the claws as he pushes in and quickly follows the first with a second. He uses his free hand to hold your hips still as you try to grind into his digits, keeps you held firmly against his erection as you squirm in pleasure.

His sharp fingertips angle to prod gently at a spot inside of you that has you seeing stars; your eyes are clenched shut as you ride the feeling, so close to the edge you feel like you’re going to implode with the force of it when you finally tip over. “Fuck, sir, please, so c-close,” you mumble, and his tongue is back to licking at whatever parts of your skin it can reach.

“You wanna come like this, sweetheart?” The main monitor in front of you glitches out, and when it comes back into focus you see yourself on the screen- like a mirror, you’re reflected, and you can see Vox’s grinning face behind you. Your skin is flushed, sweat dripping down your face, the hint of tears along your lashline as your mouth drops open when he adds a third finger. “Look fuckin’ beautiful, baby, you were made for this- maybe we give Valentino a call, he could-”

“No!” You release the arms of the chair to grab onto his wrists where his hands meet your body. “No one- no one but you, sir. Vox, please, l- let me come. Please?” You let a little whine into your voice, and you can see the way his mouth goes lax and his eyes laser-focus on where you’re grabbing at his hands.

“I didn’t mean to join us, dollface, just to record- but you’re right, you’re right.” He pulls his fingers from your pussy, slicing the center of your panties in the process before he brings his digits to his mouth- you watch on the screen as he curls his tongue around each one, licks the flavor of you from his skin and glitches out at the taste. “How could I possibly share such a fucking vision with anyone else?

He shifts you to one side so he can get his dick out, and the sight of it in the monitor, his own arousal beading at the top and rock hard, has you whimpering before it’s even inside of you. He carried himself like a man with a big cock, but Christ.

“Hope you like what you see, hun, cause it’s all yours.” He scoots forward in the seat, tilts his hips forward for the right angle, and moves you back into your previous position with ease- this time, the tip of him is pushing inside you, and you watch in the monitor as you sink inch by glorious inch onto him.

Once you’re fully seated, Vox seems to lose capability for rational thought. “Fuck me, you’re perfect,” he moans, bracing his feet more firmly on the ground to thrust up into you, getting a firm grasp on your hips to pull you down into it. The result is a beautiful stab at that sweet spot inside of you that makes you clench and cry out, watching Vox’s hypnotic eye start spiraling at its normal speed on the screen, and you can see backwards scrolling text of his stream of thoughts- a bunch of nonsensical letters and cuss words interspersed with your name. “I want to fucking- chain you to my desk so I can have this perfect pussy whenever I want it. Fuck, I can’t believe we- we could have been doing this for weeks.” He punctuates his sentence with a hard thrust.

“A-all the more reason to regularly clear your task manager, sir,” you say, so caught up in the feeling of him railing you from below that you can hardly believe you formed a coherent thought. He feels so fucking good and you’re a hair trigger away from collapsing and wringing him for all he’s got.

With one quick movement he’s shifted, and there’s a hand on your throat arching you backwards at the same time that he gets a couple clawed fingers rubbing at your clit. The shock of the combination makes you flutter around his length, a choked noise escaping your throat before he tightens his grip- not enough to really cut off your air supply, but enough that your brain starts going soft and mushy and the vice grip your cunt has on his cock gets impossibly tighter. You can see the shine of your slick arousal coating him every time he pulls out to rut back into you, and the sights and sounds are threatening to rip you into the chasm of ecstasy that you’re flirting with. 

“Vox,” you whine, “please, I’m so fucking- please please please-“ 

“Christ, babygirl, whatever you fucking want.” His eyes are wide and frantic as they watch the place you’re joined, his mouth set in a snarl as he fucks into your pliant body. The cry you release is nothing short of agonized- it’s so fucking close you can taste it, nearly overwhelmed with the tension.

“You wanna fucking cum on my cock? Do it, angel, let me see it- come on, baby, cum for me-“

Your walls clench down hard as you reach your orgasm, Vox’s grip on your throat making your vision and mind go fuzzy with the force of it as you choke on a moan that tries to escape your tensed muscles. You’re distantly aware of Vox thrusting hard into you, more praise and curses falling from his lips as he hits his peak as well, pressing his screen to the side of your face when he relinquishes his handle on your throat to clutch at your hips and grind into your cunt as he spills inside of you. The aftershocks of your release leave you twitching, milking his cock of everything he has to offer before he collapses into the chair behind you, a boneless pile of a man now simply running his hands over any bit of skin he could reach. 

It’s truly a testament to how helpful the reset and reboot had been that Vox’s system doesn’t simply crash. “Fucking Hell, I haven’t felt this good in decades,” he mutters in your ear, and you shiver at the feeling of his tongue brushing the sensitive skin.

“Ha, you think that’s the reboot or the mind-melting orgasms?”

He hums contentedly. “Jury’s out on that, doll. Guess we’ll have to do a re-run on both and see how it stacks up to this one.”

“I’ll make sure to schedule some time out for it,” you chuckle before fixing him with a stern glare through the monitor. “I’m serious about clearing your apps and shit more frequently though. Christ, you had decades of backed up shit open-“

“Don’t berate me while my dick is still inside you, fuck.” He leans you forward far enough to pull out, and you grimace at the feeling of his cum starting to spill back out of you. He notices the expression though- “Whoops, sorry,” he says, and after a quick second during which he tucks his softening prick away he scoops you into his arms, standing from the chair and stepping away from the desk. “Let’s get you cleaned up at the penthouse, angel, what do you say?”

“If you’re carrying me then lead the way.” You gesture towards the door out of the control room. “Just don’t start any timers to see how long it takes to get there or anything and we should be good.”

The glare he fixes you with shouldn’t be hot, but it fucking is. “Hardy har,” he deadpans, and rolls his eyes while he stalks towards the elevator, control room door closing behind you; but there’s a small smile on his screen despite his ire and he’s functioning normally, and when you see the little stopwatch icon pop up in the bottom right corner of his face and start counting, you can’t help but laugh.

[bradshawssugarbaby]

Easy Like Sunday Morning - Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

summary: Lazy Sunday mornings are few and far between for you and Bradley. When they do happen, you make the best of them.

pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x reader

warnings/content: smut, unprotected p in v (or at least, no protection mentioned), dirty talk, praise kink, Bradley worshipping you. Sort of CNC (both parties are awake though when the actual act occurs?)

word count: 1.5k

The morning sun peeked through the curtains over the large window in your bedroom. You yawned and stretched, a much needed gesture after a solid eight hours of fighting Bradley for the covers throughout the night. Beside you, he lay in bed, still snoring peacefully - you were convinced at this point an atom bomb could probably detonate beside his eardrum and he still wouldn’t stir.  His tanned arm rested just over the covers, his hand loosely gripping the fabric as he slept. He turned onto his side, causing the blanket to drop slightly, exposing a landscape of golden sunkissed skin dotted with freckles across his shoulders and upper back. Bradley would never admit to it, but he’d been hitting the gym harder lately, and it was starting to show more so as the muscles in his back tensed and flexed as he got comfortable. 

Bradley had always been a good looking man. You swore that from the moment you first saw him - dressed in his khaki uniform walking down the streets in Coronado as he and a couple of friends decided to grab lunch off base that day after a briefing. You’d been out for lunch with one of your friends, and Bradley caught your eye from a mile away. Tall, dark, broad-shouldered and handsome - he was perfectly your type. As luck would have it, it turned out that he’d had his eye on you at the same time. Before leaving that afternoon, he’d stopped by the table where you were dining and flashed this beautifully crooked smile at you, the kind that made you just absolutely melt on the spot.

“Sorry for interrupting your lunch, but I couldn’t walk away without telling you how beautiful you are.”

His deep voice sent a shiver down your spine when he spoke, butterflies fluttering in your stomach as your brain processed what he’d said. He laughed when you told him he was sweet, his cheeks becoming rosy as you teased him, and that was that - within a couple of days, he was calling you for a date, and now, two years later, he was sound asleep in bed beside you, in the house you two had purchased together a few short months ago. 

You gently placed a kiss to his shoulder blade as you reminisced to yourself about meeting Bradley for the first time, causing him to murmur something softly, eyelids fluttering for a moment before remaining shut. After a few minutes, Bradley flipped back to lay on his back, grumbling quietly as he settled himself back into his rest. His curls were tousled messily from his tossing and turning, something that Bradley would quickly tame the moment he woke up with some hair styling products he had stashed away, specifically for making sure his hair remained in Navy regulation at every moment. 

You began to kiss his shoulder again, gently peppering his soft skin with tender kisses as he slept, showering him with affection. Bradley’s eyes fluttered again, a soft smirk forming on his lips as he glanced down at you, your trail of kisses now heading further towards his chest. He hummed softly and shut his eyes again, enjoying your display of tenderness towards him on this lazy morning. 

As you trailed your mouth down his body, you peeled back the blankets gently - trying your best not to wake him abruptly. You danced your fingers down his chest to his abdomen, your lips following suit. Once you reached the waistband of his boxer briefs, you delicately placed another kiss to the light trail of hair that extended from his naval to his waistline before sitting yourself upright. Carefully, you straddled his waist, taking care to seat yourself gently on his abdomen. You ducked your head down to begin kissing at his ear, which prompted a soft groan from Bradley.

“Mornin’, honey,” he said sleepily as he blinked his bleary brown eyes a few times in an effort to focus them on you. 

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” you hummed, your lips leaving a trail of warm, open-mouthed kisses along his neck, something Bradley could never resist. 

“Mhmm,” Bradley shook his head, a strained chuckle falling from his lips as he shifted underneath you in the bed. “Honey, you’re making it really, really hard for me to not just flip you over and-” 

You raised a challenging eyebrow as you hovered yourself over top of his lap, settling down on the tenting fabric of his boxers. Grinding yourself against him, Bradley let out a deep grunt, shaking his head as he reached out and grabbed at your hips. He held you firmly in place, guiding your as you moved back and forth, rubbing yourself over top of his boxers. 

Bradley gazed up at you with lust-filled eyes as he pushed you back onto his thighs for a moment, reaching a hand down to shove the restricting fabric back off his waist. Your fingers teased and taunted him as you slowly pulled back his boxers, his hardening cock springing forwards as you freed it. Taking his length in your hand, you stroked it gently, your thumb tracing soft, delicate circles around the tip. 

“Honey, you’re killing me here,” Bradley rasped, watching you carefully as you continued to toy with him, pumping your hand along his shaft with just enough pressure to drive him crazy.

“Tell me what you want me to do, Roo,” you purred, using his callsign as a means to tease him.

“Fuck,” he panted, shaking his head for a minute to try and compose himself, “I need you to ride me, pretty girl. Think you’re up for it?”

“I think I can handle it.” 

You lifted the hem of Bradley’s t-shirt that you’d slept in up, just enough to keep it out of the way as you positioned yourself over top of him. You slid down on to him with a soft whine, tilting your head to the side as you looked down at him, pressing your palms flat against his chest to steady yourself. 

“Fuck, that’s it, honey. Lookin’ so pretty bouncing up and down on my cock,” Bradley grunted, his large hands reaching for any part of you he could get a grip on, settling for your thighs.

You bobbed yourself up and down on him with ease, working yourself into a rhythm as you rode Bradley. His fingertips dug into the flesh of your thigh, causing you to whine as you sped up your movements. Bradley’s hands snuck their way up the bottom of your shirt, gliding their way against your sensitive skin before cupping your breasts. He gave them a playful squeeze before sliding them back down to your waist, guiding you up and down on him as he felt your walls beginning to clench around his cock. 

“S-so close, Bradley,” you whined, throwing your head back before darting your eyes down to meet his steely gaze. 

“That’s it, pretty girl. Let it go for me, honey, I’ve got ya.” he coached, his hands tightening their grip on your hips.

You gasped as you felt Bradley switch his hand placement, one of his hands drifting to your abdomen. He reached down and pressed his fingertip into your clit, massaging it in circles as you rode him. Your orgasm hit you almost immediately after he made contact with your sensitive nub, a wicked grin formed on Bradley’s lips as he watched your thighs shake and the movement of your hips become less precise as you fell apart on him.

Bradley snapped his hips forwards into you, thrusting hard and deep into your throbbing cunt. He desperately pounded into you, his breath hitching in his throat as he brought himself close to the edge. Your name fell from his lips like a sacred prayer, repeating it over and over as his voice rasped - as if there was nothing else on his mind than you.

“Fuck, so good, honey, you feel so fucking good. You’re so good to me, baby girl.” he praised, worshipping you as he came down from his climax.

Breathlessly, you leaned down, pressing your lips to his in a feverish, passionate kiss. Your teeth grazed at his plump bottom lip gently as you pulled your head back, a grin forming on your features as you looked down at him.

“That’s one way to wake me up,” he laughed, shaking his head before gazing up at you with pure adoration in his eyes. 

“Come on,” you grinned, tapping his thigh as you dismounted from his waist, “I’m gonna go take a shower, you coming with me, Roo?”

Bradley grinned, raising his dark eyebrow at you as he watched you walk towards the bedroom door. 

“I wouldn’t miss it.” 

[whereianonymouslypostfics]

Happy Birthday

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x reader

Word count: ~2k

Summary: An odd tradition

A/N: Felt weird writing this one y'all, but it did give me ideas...

Warnings: fluff, arguments, fluff!

You had been married for a long time. You and Wanda were at the point where you decided to stop celebrating your anniversary with anything extravagant. It was an exhausting and stressful way to say that you loved each other. You both already knew this and you had quickly learned that trying to both plan separate things was tiring. 

Similarly, you had stopped celebrating each other’s birthdays with extravagant gifts. It seemed a little trivial given that because of Wanda, you two collectively had enough money to buy anything your heart desired. After buying many extravagant trips and a new car one year, the novelty of material gifts wore off a bit. Eventually you just made a promise to spend time together since quality time could be rare to come by depending on your schedules. 

Somehow, you weren’t sure who was to blame, you and Wanda decided to start pranking each other. You weren’t sure who it had started with, but at first it was silly little harmless pranks that mildly embarrassed the birthday girl. From there, they had become slightly more involved and punishing. 

Now that Wanda’s birthday was just around the corner, it was your turn to prank your wife. Unfortunately for the redhead, you were feeling rather vindictive this year and had the perfect plan. However, you quickly realized you’d need some help accomplishing your goal. 

When you had first approached him about it, Pietro had been hesitant. Although he knew about the couple’s somewhat odd tradition, the whole family knew, he wasn’t sure if being a part of it would be a good thing. In fact, he was sure his sister would be furious and put out a hit on him if she didn’t kill him on the spot. He didn’t want Wanda to get upset at him, but then again, he couldn’t help but think that it was a little brilliant. Considering what Wanda had done to you last year, he finally agreed to help his sister-in-law pull this off. 

Wanda deserved it just a little bit.

It started with little things that Wanda wouldn’t necessarily pick up on. At first you just spent a little bit longer out of the house. Once a week you would come home late claiming to have worked on paperwork for a while after closing. Then you’d purposely forgotten about meeting the redhead for lunch one day and you’d ended up meeting Pietro instead not a block away from where you’d stood up Wanda. 

Wanda hadn’t realized anything was off until about a month later. This entire process had started a good three months before her birthday to avoid any suspicion, but now it wasn’t just Y/n that was acting out of the ordinary, Pietro was too. 

First Pietro was at their place a little more. She just thought that the blonde was visiting more because he had needed to take some time off of work due to a recent injury and he wasn’t sure what to do with his free time.  So he spent time finding a new place to live, and he came over a lot more. Wanda would find him hanging out with you when she came home from work earlier than expected. You and Pietro would sometimes watch things or simply be talking when Wanda returned. A few times she’d seemed to catch you both off-guard however, and you almost looked guilty when Wanda came home. 

Wanda never texted her brother very much, they mostly talked on the phone but one day she received a slightly confusing text that she assumed had been a mistake. Maybe a drunken one. She’d simply responded, “uh thanks, love you too.” 

It was confusing and Wanda couldn’t make heads or tails of it until a few days before her birthday. 

She’d had a rough day and didn’t get to leave until about midnight. She knew that you were home already, so she wasn’t surprised when she opened the garage door and saw your car. She was however, surprised when she’d entered her kitchen to find you and Pietro sitting on the couch. 

Specifically, Pietro was lying against the side of the couch while her wife was leaning over him as they kissed. Wanda didn’t say anything immediately as her brain failed to react, failed to register what was happening. She watched her brother and wife make out for far longer than strictly necessary to figure out what was going on. 

“What the fuck!? Pietro!?” 

It was the best that Wanda could come up with as she tried to piece together all of the clues she’d seen in the past few months. Pietro spending more time here, more time with you, and the weird behavior she’d seen from you both. She still didn’t believe what she was seeing. She didn’t believe that you and Pietro were still horizontal on her couch. She had never seen this coming. 

The pair started at the sound of her voice, and you cursed as you practically jumped off of Pietro. The blonde was slower to get up, but he didn’t look any less worried than you as you shot your wife a surprised, guilty look. 

“Wands! Hi, um, we, I uh…” 

Luckily Wanda didn’t give you any more time to stumble over any excuses, let alone apologies as she shot you two a vicious look. 

“Don’t. How long has this been going on?” 

The pair didn’t answer immediately, but they exchanged a look that made Wanda tense in anticipation. She gritted her teeth in annoyance when a few seconds passed and no one answered, but she didn’t get a chance to ask again when Pietro spoke up. 

“A few months.” 

The younger Maximoff’s mouth fell open in shock, but she quickly recovered as she tried her best to hide how hurt she was. She didn’t realize she’d moved until she had a fistful of her brother’s shirt and his face was close enough that she could see him sweating. She saw you tense in anticipation and that just made her want to punch the other Maximoff even more.

The idea of you cheating on her with her brother was too painful, too infuriating. She needed to get out, now or she was going to throttle her brother. 

Wanda shook her head and shoved Pietro away before turning to leave. She needed to distance herself from the two of you, but you stopped her.

“Wanda wait!” 

You grab her arm to stop her from leaving, but Wanda yanks it away with a glare. She turns back to her wife with an angry look. 

“What?” 

Then she watched as both you and Pietro smiled before speaking up in unison. 

“Happy birthday.” 

Your smile grew wider as Pietro merely grinned and left out through the garage without another word. Wanda’s jaw dropped again as she realized what had just happened. She was nonplussed as she stood gaping at you like a fish out of water. She was incensed, annoyed, embarrassed and so impressed with the attention you had put into this. Not to mention her brother, but that would come later, first she needed to confirm that this was all just part of her ‘birthday gift’.

“What?” 

This time she didn’t sound angry, rather confused and completely bewildered by what had just happened. You merely smile sheepishly before watching Wanda closely for her reaction. You would be the first to admit that this prank had been risky, and you were still waiting to see if it was going to blow up in your face. 

“Happy birthday, babe.” 

Wanda’s reaction this time was immediate and she turned red as she stood straighter and shot you a glare.

“Are you serious?” 

You could only laugh and wring your hands nervously as you nodded at Wanda’s reaction, which of course only made her more annoyed.

“I can’t believe you two would do this! You had me thinking that you were—what were you thinking?” 

You shook your head before you shot Wanda a challenging look that the redhead didn’t even flinch at. 

“Oh please, your prank last year was awful too.”

“But I didn’t cheat on you!”

“No! You just made me believe that you’d actually taken to a religion that said you had to leave me! Not nearly as bad!” 

Wanda continued to glare at her wife who was trying really hard not to laugh in glee. You had succeeded in fooling your wife and giving her a taste of her own medicine. You had been so frightened last year when Wanda had told you that she was going to leave you. You hadn’t been able to find the words to express how much you hated the idea. All you knew was that you couldn’t let it happen. 

Now you could see how it had made you feel because Wanda was still struck dumb by the idea. She was no longer glaring, only frowning as she finally shot you a less incensed, but more suspicious look. 

“Pietro? Really?” 

You merely laughed before nodding in confirmation. The blonde had been the perfect choice because he was someone that would be able to sell the idea without actually having to go to too much trouble. The blonde knew about their pranks and he was willing to be a part of it without any compensation, other than seeing the look on his sister’s face. 

“Brilliant, hmm?” 

Wanda scowls before she rolls her eyes and mutters something under her breath about being unnecessarily cruel. You couldn’t help it and you move forward to kiss the frown off your wife’s face with another laugh. Wanda backs away with a pout before she settles on looking displeased as she thinks about how she supposes this was payback for last year. 

Finally she sighs and shoots you a look that makes you smile proudly. 

“That was pretty terrifying.” 

You figured as much and you smile as you hug your wife who eventually returns the gesture. You offer the only consolation you would that night and shrug as you watch Wanda finally relax as she laughs under her breath. 

“If it makes you feel better, I’m not his type.  It took a little convincing; however, that I was definitely not interested in him.”

Wanda rolls her eyes again before shaking her head with a smile. She wouldn’t lie, she couldn’t see her wife with Pietro. Knowing what she did about both of them, it had only freaked her out because it seemed so outlandish and terrifying. Now that she put some thought into it, she knew that you would never go for her brother. Also, despite how much grief he liked to give her, she knew that Pietro wouldn’t ever betray her like that. 

“For some reason you’re mine though.” 

You don’t get a chance to feel offended by the remark before Wanda kisses you again. This time it lasts longer and you can tell that Wanda was getting over her shock and anger. At least she was about to direct it toward something else she wanted. You both wanted honestly. 

“Maybe we can just go back to flowers and chocolates and stop scaring the crap out of each other?” 

You laugh before nodding in agreement. This sounds like a pretty good idea. You are about to head into the kitchen to get started on dinner, but a hand on your arm stops you in your tracks. You turn to see that Wanda’s shooting you a look that makes your heart begin to race in excitement that you hope doesn’t show on your face. 

“I’m still processing what happened, but as soon as I’m done, we’ll talk about your punishment.”

You open your mouth to argue, but Wanda’s already walked past you to the kitchen. You’re just going to have to see if the look on your wife’s face earlier will be worth whatever lies ahead. 

“And Pietro’s.” 

You hope so.  

Masterlist

Taglist: @idkwhatever580

[alotofpockets]

From dreams to diapers | Alessia Russo

Pairing: Alessia Russo x Arsenal!Reader & Lotte Wubben-Moy x Best Friend!Reader

Prompts: "Twins? We're having twins?" & "You're great with kids."

Warnings: Pregnant Alessia, morning sickness, and a whole lot of fluff :)

Masterlist | Woso masterlist | Words: 2.3k

You had met Alessia when the both of you made the squad at UNC. You found comfort in being surrounded by a piece of home in both her and your other teammate Lotte, the three of you being the only girls in the squad that were from the UK. The connection with both girls was great, over time Alessia had become your girlfriend, and Lotte your best friend. 

The three of you made it to the England U15 squad together, and continued to grow up together moving up all the way to the seniors team. While you all played together for country, you had signed with different clubs in the UK. Lotte was the first that signed with Arsenal, you followed a few years later, and Alessia had signed for the club last year. Playing for the same club, and all living in the same city was such a great feeling.

Ever since you started dating Alessia, the two of you had talked about wanting children together in the future. Alessia made the move to Arsenal, when the talk of starting a family started to get more real. Sure, it had always been real but now you both felt like you were ready to actually start a family. The talking started to be less about the general idea, and more about the practical side.

After many consults, and conversations between the two of you, you had decided that Alessia would carry. The striker was more than happy to put her career on hold to get your little family started. You had started the process of getting pregnant a few months ago now, a box of pregnancy tests always present in the house. So far you had only gotten negative results, you both knew it wasn't likely for her to get pregnant right away, so you patiently waited for the day that a test would show a positive result.

A couple weeks later, you wake up to Alessia running to the bathroom. You quickly follow her, and hold her hair up as she’s leaned over the toilet, your hands rub soothing circles over her back. Your wife leans her back against the wall, relishing in the coldness of the tiles against her back. Before you get up to get her a glass of water, you place a soft kiss on her forehead. “Should we check?” A question you had asked her many times over the past few months. 

While you wait for the pregnancy test to be ready, you cuddle up in bed together, holding your wife close. Your alarm lets you know that the test is ready to be checked. Alessia grabs the test from her bedside table, the result face down. “Ready, baby?” You smile at her, before you lean in and kiss her, “Now I’m ready.” Alessia slowly turns the test around, it feels like time stops for a moment when you read the word positive. You slowly lift your head up to look at your wife, who looks at you with matching teary eyes. The both of you are too overwhelmed with emotions to speak, so you just fall into each other's arms. “We’re going to be parents.” You say still in disbelief, when you finally find your voice again. “We’re going to be parents.” Alessia says back, the smile on her face growing.

The two of you stay in the bed a lot longer than you usually did on days you had training, neither one of you wanting to end the moment. But as training got closer, you knew you had to. “Do you feel okay going to training? If not I can call Jonas.” Alessia pecks your lips, “I’m okay to go, thank you though.” She could already tell that you were going to be very protective of her during this pregnancy. 

You kept exchanging love sick glances with Alessia, while the both of you were basking in the moment of the two of you being the only ones in the world that knew that Alessia was pregnant. However, the love sick glances didn’t go unnoticed to your best friend. “What’s up with the two of you?” She asks as the two of you walk up the water bottles. “Nothing.” Your reaction was way too quick for Lotte to believe a word that was coming out of your mouth. “Oh, something is going on.” Her mind starts going over the list of things that her two best friends could be up to, until her eyes widened with a possible explanation for your quick response. “Omg, are you preg-” Your hand was on her mouth before she could finish her sentence, sending her a warning look before you slowly removed your hand again. You weren’t able to hold back the smile that was forming on your face, enough proof for Lotte to know that she was right. She pulls you into a hug, “I am so happy for you both.” She whispers in your direction before joining the rest of the girls again. 

Lotte went with the both of you to all of the doctors appointments, she declared herself the videographer of your journey, and you accepted her role glady. That’s how the three of you found yourself in the doctor's office one morning, ready for an ultrasound. You sat by Alessia, holding her hand, while Lotte stood to the side with her phone ready to film. The doctor applied the gel to Alessia’s belly, and started moving the machine around. Both of you look at the screen in awe, trying to figure out what you were looking at, but knowing that it was a little miracle whether you were able to figure it out yourselves or not. 

“So, here we have the baby.” She points to the screen. Tears start filling your eyes, it was still early in the pregnancy, so you hadn’t seen the baby on the screen just yet. You give Alessia’s hand a squeeze and kiss her forehead. “And then here we have another baby.” Your jaw drops, "Twins? We're having twins?" The doctor smiles at the two of you, “Yes, you’re having twins.” Alessia’s emotions get the best of her as well, as her tears start flowing as well. “I’ll give you all a moment.” The doctor says as she hands you the sonogram. You both stare at the pictures in disbelief. “We’re going to have two babies.” Alessia says in a whisper. You nod with a big smile on your face. The two of you share a long hug, meanwhile Lotte is filming the interaction with tears in her eyes. She was overjoyed for her two best friends, having been along on this journey between the both of you since day one.

The next day at practice you had told the team, and showed them the sonograms. Everyone was overjoyed for the both of you, hugs and congratulations were shared in big numbers, and you couldn’t be happier. After you had told both your families, there was only one more thing to do, and that was to tell the world.

------

alessiarusso99 and y/nrusso posted

Liked by lottewubbenmoy and 94,558 others

alessiarusso99: We've got some exciting news to share. I can't believe our dream of starting a family is finally coming true❤️

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y/nrusso: So ready for this new adventure with you❤️

lottewubbenmoy: I'm gonna be an autie!

↳ alessiarusso99: The best auntie :)

↳ leahwilliamsonn: Already playing favoritism...

↳ lottewubbenmoy: Best friend privileges😋

user1: WAIT TWO BABY OUTFITS, ARE THEY HAVING TWINS??

Liked by y/nrusso

↳ user2: OMG y/n liked

leahwilliamsonn: Congrats to the both of you 😘

arsenalwfc: more baby Gooners!

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The response to your announcement was incredible, the overwhelming amount of love and that was thrown your way enough to make you tear up. 

After talking with your OB-GYN and with your own trainers, you had set up a schedule for Alessia. She could continue her training for a while longer, but since soccer was a contact sport, the OB-GYN recommended to stop playing matches two weeks from now, and that in the meantime, Alessia could still play, but not a full match.

That’s how you found yourself the next week, the last match Alessia would play before the twins would arrive. After consulting with the trainers, you had decided that Alessia would start and play only the first half. You were happy to walk the field with Alessia by your side, knowing that was going to be something you were going to be missing dearly over the next few months. You walk up to the side line of the field and wait for Alessia and Lotte to join you. You stand in the middle of them and link your arms with them, jumping over the line together. A pre-game ritual the three of you had started back in college, followed by national team matches, and since you all played together for Arsenal, the ritual was brought there too.

The match was going well, you were glad it wasn’t a very physical match so far, for the sake of Alessia and the babies. You manage to intercept a ball and run towards your opponents goal with it, lifting your eyes to see who was with you, when you saw that Alessia was running forward as well. With a calculated kick, the ball goes flying to her feet. You watch as she kicks the ball to the back of the net, running her way to celebrate the goal with her. After a quick hug, you fall to your knees, and place a kiss on her belly. The first goal you ever dedicated to the babies. Alessia pulls you back in for a hug, before you are met with your teammates from all angles. 

Just five more minutes left in the first half when your team earned a corner. Katie takes it and the ball comes flying your way at the back post. You jump up and head the ball into the goal, just slightly out of reach of the goalkeeper. Your eyes met Alessia’s and you knew what you needed to do. You slide down and place another kiss on her tummy, now both babies had a goal dedicated to them. The rest of the match went great and you ended up winning 4-1. All in all, a great match for Alessia to end on. 

While you continued training and playing matches, you were also taking care of your wife, and getting the house ready for the twins. The girls came over often, helping you out. You were forever grateful for them, helping you paint the nursery, and helping the two of you to gather all the stuff that you would need. 

Amidst all the shopping you kept stumbling on pictures of dad’s on baby products, parenting books for fathers, at first they were just things you noticed, but eventually it started to get to you. You didn’t want to bother Alessia with your emotions, as she was literally growing two humans inside of her but being the amazing wife that she is, she noticed your change in behaviour instantly. “Baby, what’s going on?” She asked softly. “It’s nothing, love.” Alessia knew all your tells, so she knew you weren’t being truthful. “Hey, none of that. If something is going on, you can always tell me, baby.” You cave in after she brought out the puppy dog eyes. “I’ve just been in my head about not being related to the twins. What if my maternal instinct won’t kick in? What if I won’t have a connection with them the same way that you will?”

Alessia takes your hands in hers, “Sweetheart, you already have a connection with them. You talk to them, sing to them, and read to them every single day. These kiddos know your voice by heart already. You’re going to show up for our babies, and you’re going to love them, you’re going to care for them, and that is all they will need. You are great with kids, baby, you might not realise it but I think that your maternal instinct kicked in the moment we saw the positive result on the test. You are going to be the most amazing mother to these two little nuggets.” Alessia always knew the right words to say. “Thank you, my love.” You place a kiss onto her cheek. “I needed to hear that.”

The day your baby girls were born was one with many emotions, all of the best kinds. When you held them for the first time, everything you had been worried about faded away. Their little hands holding onto your fingers, and you had never felt more ready to take on motherhood. Alessia was tired but so in love with the two little bundles of joy. Ever since you had found out that you were going to have two girls, you had known what you wanted to name them, and Alessia had loved your idea.

Lotte, Beth, and Viv were the first of your teammates to come visit your family in the hospital. You hadn’t told anyone the names yet, saved for this special moment. After the four of them have admired your girls, you take one of them from their little crib. “This is Mia, named after Alessia’s middle name, since I’ve always loved it so much.” You hand Mia to Beth, Viv is quick to snap a picture. Then you picked up your other little girl, and walked over to Lotte, handing her the baby. “And this little girl was named after our best friend.” Lotte’s eyes quickly shoot up to you. “Meet Mae.” Lotte could not believe that the two of you had named your child after her, as tears started rolling down her cheeks. “I’m so honoured, thank you so much.”

In small groups the rest of the team, and your families came to meet the little girls. You were so grateful for having such a big group of people you called family, knowing that the girls had so many bonus aunties warmed your heart.

------

y/nrusso and alessiarusso99 posted

Liked by viviannemiedema and 87,458 others

y/nrusso: Mia and Mae Russo. Welcome to the world, my sweet girls, I love you both so much. P.S. My incredible wife is doing well❤️

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lottewubbenmoy: Like I haven't cried enough yet.. Forever grateful to have one of your little girls named after me. Love them both so much already!

viviannemiedema: The best mama's! 😍

bethmead_: The cutest!

------

You quickly got used to life as a family of four, and you were loving every single moment of it. The gallery of your phone was filled with pictures and videos of the twins, wanting to capture every moment, so you could hold onto the memories forever.  

The twins were very loved, not only by Alessia and yourself, but also by your friends and family. Your home was often filled with visitors, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

------

y/nrusso posted

Liked by alessiarusso99 and 63,785 others

y/nrusso: Life lately 🥰

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[sluttywonwoo]

no nut november — bang chan (loser #5)

pairing: bang christopher chan x fem!reader

warnings: swearing, smut (18+), fingering, unprotected sex, suggested choking, one (1) bite

a/n: part of @gimmeurtmi and i’s collab <3

word count: 3.2k

series masterlist

You’re fine with the No Nut November thing, Chan thinks. That’s what you told him when he explained the whole thing to you at the beginning of the month. You’d thought it was dumb, of course, but you were supportive as always. 

The only thing is, you haven’t been around much since the start of the month. Chan isn’t sure if you’re trying to give him space so that he can win his little bet, or if you’re more upset about it than you’d initially let on. 

He waits for you to come to him and when you don’t, he takes matters into his own hands and seeks you out first. 

It’s the eighteenth, a little over two weeks into the bet, when brings it up again. He’s at your place for your weekly date night, one you’d almost tried to skip out on by telling him you had work to do for your graduate program with finals coming up. You’d texted him a couple of hours before he was scheduled to come over saying that your homework was really starting to pile up and that you didn’t think you’d be able to finish it all before your date, but Chan had assured you that the two of you could just turn it into a study date. He hadn’t seen you in practically a week, after all. 

But when he arrives at your apartment that afternoon, your study materials are packed away, all traces of schoolwork minimized down to your laptop resting on the coffee table, the browser not even open to your University’s site. 

Chan toes off his shoes by the door and drops his backpack there with them, making his way into your apartment in search of you. 

He could already see from where he was standing in the doorway that you’re not in the living room. You’re not in the kitchen either. 

“Babe?” Chan calls, peering his head around the corner of the hall to your bedroom. Your door is closed, which is odd. You usually leave it open. Chan calls your name again and this time you answer, telling him you’ll be right out. 

You appear from your room moments later, a little out of breath and flushed with heat. Wisps of your hair are sticking to your face and neck with what looks to be sweat. 

“Are you okay?” he asks, taking you by the shoulders to give you a once over.

“Fine,” you say, not all that convincingly, but brush him off before he can get a chance to press you further. 

You move into the living room together and settle on opposite sides of the couch. Chan goes to grab his laptop from his backpack while you turn on the TV and look for something to put on in the background. 

Once you’ve picked something, he tries to zone in on the song he’s been working on but then he notices that you aren’t working like you said you would be and can’t ignore the concern lingering in the back of his mind. 

“Are you sure you’re okay? You’re not feeling sick or anything?”

“I’m fine, Chris,” you insist and try to put him at ease by scooting closer to him on the sofa and laying your hand over his. 

“I thought you had a lot of work to do, though. You shouldn’t put it off. You know it’ll only stress you out more if you do.”

“I actually managed to finish it all,” you murmur, not looking away from the screen.

“Wait, really?” 

You nod. “Mhm.”

“That’s great, baby!” he exclaims and tosses his laptop to the side to grab you and kiss you on the forehead. He can’t stop himself from embracing you in a full-body hug, laying you back on the cushions and holding himself over you so that he can pepper kisses all over your face. “I’m so proud of you!”

You don’t respond right away, eyes wide and body frozen beneath him. He realizes the position he has you in a moment later and straightens back up with an awkward clearing of his throat, discreetly readjusting himself in his sweats in the process. 

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you say, going right back to the topic at hand like nothing had happened. “And I mean, I still have my tests and presentations to do, which is enough stress in itself.”

“I bet,” Chan agrees. “But still! It must be a huge relief to have the rest of it done.”

“Yeah, it is.”

“You don’t sound so sure. You know you can tell me the truth right? If something’s bothering you?” 

“I know, Chris-”

He cuts you off, he can’t help it. “Is it the bet? If it’s the bet, I’ll forfeit. You know it isn’t the end of the world, right? If it’s making you unhappy...” he trails off. 

You smile gently at him. “I know. And of course I miss sex with you, but I want you to win. I just.... haven't been sleeping well lately.”

He frowns and pulls you to his side. “Oh I’m sorry, baby.”

“It’s whatever,” you sigh, leaning into his shoulder.

“Maybe you’ll sleep better tonight since I’m here? I can play with your hair the way you like.”

You sit up suddenly and turn to face your boyfriend. “You’re sleeping over?”

It’s Chan’s turn to be confused. “Uh yeah, unless you don’t want me to? I always stay the night on Sundays.”

“I know, I just wasn’t sure if that was still the plan with the whole No Nut November thing still happening.”

He pretends to be offended. “You think I won’t be able to last a night sleeping next to you?”

“You didn’t come over last week!”

“That’s because I agreed to go to the gym after work with Changbin. I told you that.”

You grin. “I thought it was just an excuse since you’re really... pent up you might have wanted to reduce the risk of any... accidents.”

“You don’t think I can control myself?” Chan scoffs.

“I just think you’re pussy whipped.”

“Fine, maybe you’ve got me there,” he concedes with a chuckle. “But I think I’ll be okay for one night.”

-

Chan’s able to get a little bit of work done but since you don’t have any of your own to do anymore, he puts his computer away halfway through the night so that he can spend the rest of the time with you. 

When it’s time to get ready for bed, you shower separately, you first and then Chan. Normally you’d shower together... to save time and water and all that, but Chan didn’t want to make it any harder (literally and metaphorically) than it already had to be.

He falls asleep right away, after playing with your hair for a bit as promised. Despite his insomnia he always finds it quite easy to drift off at your place. He’s not sure if it’s your mattress or simply your presence, but it’s hands down the best sleep he ever gets and all of his members have tried to get him to spend more nights at your apartment because of it. 

He doesn’t because he doesn’t want to overstay his welcome. He’s your boyfriend, sure, but you’re just as busy as he is with school and projects. Besides, the routine the two of you have now works and he doesn’t want to mess with it. 

-

It’s the middle of the night when you wake him up. He isn’t sure what time it is exactly, but he can tell from the darkness of your room that it’s still hours from morning. You don’t mean to wake him up either. You’re just tossing and turning and happen to create enough movement that it wakes Chan in the process. 

“Baby?” he rasps, feeling for you over the sheets. “What time is it? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong.” It’s a lie, he can hear it in your voice. “Go back to sleep, Chris.”

He rolls over onto his side, trying to blink your figure into focus. His eyes still need to adjust so all he can make out are the soft edges of your curves under the blankets but he can tell you’re facing away from him.

“No, talk to me,” he insists, finally finding your hand and squeezing it. “Still can’t sleep?”

“No,” you sigh, sounding defeated. 

“What can I do to help? Want me to play with your hair some more? Rub your back?”

You whine and throw your arm over your face as if you’re embarrassed. “That’s sweet, but there’s nothing you can do for me.”

“What do you mean? There must be something.”

He gently pries your arm away from your face so that he can look into your eyes. He’s still half asleep, still can’t see more than a few inches in front of him, but your eyes reflect the tiny bit of light that is in the room, moonlight that had managed to slip in through a gap in the curtains. 

“Look at me,” he whispers. You do, but your expression is hard to read. “Tell me.”

“I- it’s just the stress, you know? It’s been keeping me up and I can’t... I can’t manage to relieve it.”

Chan nods in understanding. He knows exactly how you feel. He’s come to you with this same problem many, many times, and you always help him out. Sometimes he just needs someone to listen, sometimes he needs to work it out through exercise, and sometimes- oh. It clicks. 

“Do you need to get fucked?”A whimper from your side of the bed is all he needs to know he’s hit the nail right on the head. “Why didn’t you say so?”

“You know why,” you groan. 

“You know a bet isn’t as important as you, baby.”

“I know, but I want you to win!” you groan, voice dropping to a mumble when you say the next part. “And I figured I could just take care of it myself.”

“So why haven’t you? Is it because I’m here? Because you know I won’t care if you do- I mean I’ll find it hot of course, and probably get hard, no, I’ll definitely get hard, but I’ll be fine.”

“I’ve tried already. I’ve been trying for the last few days. For fuck’s sake I tried right before you came over and still didn’t work. It’s not the same, I guess.”

“Wait- right before I came over? Is that why you were so out of breath when I showed up? And is that why you told me you had so much homework- why you’ve been avoiding me in general?”

You nod and try to hide under the covers in embarrassment but Chan doesn’t let you. He holds the comforter tight in his fist so that you can’t pull it over your face, making you pout as he smirks at you. 

“I wasn’t trying to avoid you,” you clarify. “I was trying to help. I knew I’d be needy when I saw you and I didn’t want to make it harder for you.” 

Chan’s chest tightens as his heart practically melts at the revelation. You had been putting yourself through hell, doing all of this, for him? He has to fuck you now, if not for you, for his own selfish need to worship you.

“Oh baby, let me take care of you.”

“I can’t let you do that. Just... go back to sleep. I’ll figure something out.”

“No, come on. You need sleep,” your boyfriend reasons, inching closer to you. His fingers brush the hem of your sleep shorts and you flinch. “If I cum, I cum. It’s not the end of the world.”

“Chris...”

“I’m serious. Half of us have lost already so it’s not like I’m first or anything.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive,” he assures you. “We’re wasting time I could be using to fuck you to sleep by going back and forth on this,” he adds. 

“O-okay.”

Chan smiles. “Yeah?”

You nod, firmer this time. “Yeah.”

He’s beaming now as he rolls on top of you, kissing you on your forehead, your cheeks, your chin. You giggle and it’s like music to Chan’s ears. He presses his lips to yours just so he can feel the vibrations of your laughter against him. It tickles a little, making him laugh too as he works his hands up under his t-shirt you’d worn to bed. 

He finds your nipples already hard, whether from the November chill or his own actions he’s unsure, but he liked to think it was the latter.

You moan and arch your back into his touch, rolling your hips to try and get some friction. Chan shifts so that he can push one of his thighs in between yours, giving you something to grind on as he slips his tongue into your mouth. 

God, he’s missed the way you taste. 

The shorts you’re wearing are practically useless. Chan can feel you soaking through them already, which is ironic since you’d worn them for his benefit. You don’t usually wear pants to bed at all. It was just another one of the little things you did to help him get through the month unscathed. Even more reason for Chan to make you cum so hard you black out, in his opinion.

“Chris,” you moan, “Chan...”

“Yeah, baby?”

“Need you.”

And you’ll have him. You’ll have as much of him as you want, for as long as you want.

“Okay, angel. I just need to get us out of these clothes, alright?”

You cooperate as he undresses you both, sitting up so that he can get your shirt off and lifting your hips so he can pull your shorts and underwear down. Both are ruined, completely soaked through with your arousal, and Chan makes a mental note to toss them in the wash before he goes back to bed.

“Want my fingers first?” he asks breathlessly. 

“I... don’t know.”

“No?”

“I want your dick but I might need your fingers to stretch me out.”

Chan hums thoughtfully. “I’ll be quick with them then, how about that?”

You agree, so Chan brings the hand that isn’t holding himself up to your lips and pushes two fingers into your mouth. 

With how wet he knows you already are, you probably don’t need his fingers, but he always prefers to be safe than sorry. He doesn’t want to skip on it and end up hurting you. Besides, he enjoys pleasuring you no matter what the method is. He’d finger you for hours, rub your clit until you were shaking, eat you out until you begged him to stop if you’d let him, but tonight wasn’t about him. 

Once he’s certain that you’re ready to take him, he checks in with you again, making you suck your wetness off of his fingers and asking you if you want him to wear a condom. You shake your head no, and wrap your legs around his waist in an attempt to pull him closer. 

“Just want you inside,” you urge.

Chan braces himself and then slips the head of his cock inside of you. It’s immediately overwhelming. He had made a promise to himself that he would try to last, just fuck you through your neediness and then take a cold shower, but now that he’s actually in you he’s not so sure that he’ll be able to hold off. 

“More,” you beg, hands reaching out for your boyfriend.

“Just, just give me a second, baby,” he chokes out, closing his eyes so that he doesn’t have to see the blissed out look on your face. 

Fuck, he’s weaker than he thought. Not even halfway in and he’s already close to cumming. 

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be. I just had to, uh, take a moment to focus.”

He’s able to push the rest of his cock into you in the next breath, but as soon as he does he has to freeze in place, convinced that if he moves even a millimeter it’ll be game over for him. He can tell you’re trying not to clench around him, which he appreciates, but with the effort it takes to control that, your cunt still flutters unintentionally. It’s torture. Sweet, sweet torture.

Somehow, Chan eventually builds up enough confidence to move. He starts slow, mostly for his own sake, and works up to a steady pace. It’s still not what you need but you seem to be enjoying it nonetheless. 

You moan and chant his name, holding on to his biceps as he drives his dick into you over and over and over again. 

“Such a good girl, letting me take care of her,” Chan praises, letting his fingers rest against your throat. 

“God, Chris, yes!” 

“You like that?”

“Fuck yes,” you sob. “Can you... are you able to go faster?”

Chan gulps, unsure. But he knows you need it. You need to sleep. You need to be fucked, not made love to. He promised he’d give you what you needed. And Chan is a man of his word.  So he snaps his hips into yours as fast as he can, trying to push down the pleasure he feels creeping up his spine.

He’s fighting a losing battle and he knows it but he’ll be damned if he stops now. Your face is scrunching up in the way that it does when you’re close and you’re whimpering quietly with every thrust.

“I’m- ‘m gonna cum,” you warn, reaching down to play with your clit.

Me too, Chan thinks. You’re so warm and wet that there’s no way he won’t when he feels you clamp down around him but he still holds on to the tiny sliver of hope that tells him he has enough self control to withstand it. 

“Go on, baby. Make yourself cum for me,” he coos, suddenly aware of just how thick his accent sounds when he’s turned on. “Know you need it so bad, huh?”

You nod wildly. “Need it, baby, please.”

“So polite, even when you’re about to cum your brains out.”

You muffle a scream with your fist as you’re thrown over the edge, cumming hard underneath him. Chan curses, biting your shoulder to try and hold back, but it backfires on him and makes you clench even harder as you ride out your orgasm. 

“Shit, shit, shit-”

-

Chan throws your clothes into the washing machine along with his, and the sheets he ruined, before climbing back into bed with you. To be fair, he’d cum inside of you- which should have prevented any mess from happening, but there was so much of it (two and a half weeks’ worth, to be precise) and he’d pulled out in a panic as soon as it happened that it had all leaked out before he could stop it. You’d gasped and looked up at him with those big doe eyes of yours, an apology on your lips. 

“This isn’t your fault, babe.”

“But-”

“No, I’m the one who wanted to make you feel good. I knew the risks, remember?” You nod solemnly. “Think about it this way, we’ll get to spend the rest of the month fucking and rubbing it in the others’ faces.”

“Yeah, I guess,” you say, yawning. 

Chan smiles. “Tired?”

You can barely keep your eyes open as you nod. “Mhm.”

“Good. But let's get you in the shower before we fall asleep, okay?”

He shoots the groupchat a text about his loss, but seeing as it’s the middle of the night, no one is up to respond. At least he’ll get a couple more hours of peace before the ridicule starts.

nnn tags: @doesthismeannothingtoyou @yellowroses-world @allyoops @thelostverse @karlitaburrito @lydataylorsversion @septemberkisses @caticorn61 @multifandomtrash-dree @cixrosie @mchslut @cutiequokka @fairygemss @multistancheck @lady—-boner @stay-bi @compersian @raspbinniecreme @skzgallll @strawberriesandknives @laylasbunbunny @goddessofhiddenpleasures @brit97 @jonaticdragon @linobuns @vampcharxter

[fruitmins]

Agust Dad—One

➭ summary: Your a producer from another company that he happened to be collaborating with on his 2nd album D-2. At the release party— one drunk action leads to another, you do the worst thing you can do in the industry and change your fate forever.

➭genre: short series, pregnancy au, idol au, angst, dad au

➭warnings: mentions of vomit and throwing up, pregnancy, maybe some ptsd, you kinda have anxiety

<next part>

note: life has been hectic so at first this might seem all over the place. bare with me, it gets better

Taglist: @welcometomyworld13 @tatyhend @jiminiesunicorn @littlestarstinyseven @baechugff @thelilbutifulthings @tearykth @familiarlikemymirror3 @coree730 @prajusstuff @wobblewobble822 @choisoorin @manuosorioh

Something in you had always known you would cross paths with him again. As much as you hated the thought, you just had to accept some of the facts. You two worked in the same field, you were bound to run into each other now and then.

You’d imagine different scenarios and even wrote things down of what to say when you eventually bumped into him months later. You had time to think about what to do or how to act.

Or so you thought.

One thing you didn’t expect was that the confrontation would take place so soon. As soon as only a three weeks later, when you were informed that HYBE LABELS had bought the company you were under. All the artists and staff were to merge together and become one, including you.

You thought it was a joke at first, but quickly realized the gravity of the situation—you were now working under HYBE LABELS, which meant working under him. You knew there was no way out, which only made your anxiety increase.

There was a sick, sinking feeling in your gut when you heard that news. You knew that the likelihood of bumping into him would increase dramatically, and your worst fears were confirmed. Despite your years of experience and success, you were forced to merge together under the HYBE banner. Your own music and creative process was now under their control. Not only that— but you would be forced to work in the company with him.

There were sure to be upsides to this change but your mind was clouded. The thought of having to be in the same room as him again was terrifying and all you could think of.

It was nearly impossible to completely avoid him, especially when he seemed to be everywhere you looked. You couldn’t even go to the cafeteria without running into photos of him on the wall, along with other HYBE artists.

You started noticing things around the building, signs of him. You tried to brush it off, telling yourself it was all in your head. Of course, when you realized just how often you were thinking about him, you knew it wasn’t.

You’d been working for HYBE LABELS for a week now, and it seems like your hopes of avoiding him were quickly diminishing. Despite this, you were doing as well as you could given the circumstances. The staff was welcoming, and you were beginning to feel at home. You even had a few friends at the office, and managed to enjoy work when the thought of him wasn’t consuming you. Though it seems that he was always on the back of your mind.

As your luck would have it, only a week into the new building and you were already creating a mess. Literally. You had been feeling queasy for the past couple days and that already shook you. You figured it was your nerves making your stomach nauseous, but since you hadn’t physically threw up since you were little and had a giant fear of throwing up, you thought it would simply go away.

Yet here you were, life getting worse as you hurled over the trashcan in your office. Your hair was a mess and tears were in your eyes as the sinking feeling came back once again. Your throat burned and even though you barley ate anything the whole day, you just couldn’t stop throwing up to save your life. It was almost as if it was a reflex. You felt light headed, tears streaming down your face and your throat on fire.

“Miss? Are you okay?”

A familiar voice spoke just a couple feet from you. You gagged as you heard the familiar voice, thinking that this was just a nightmare and you needed to wake up. But as you glanced over at the entrance of your office you saw exactly who you expected.

Kim Seokjin.

Yoongi’s bandmate and older brother.

“You look terrible! Let’s get you to the hospital.” He said quickly when the two of you made eye contact. You quickly shake your head, not wanting to bother him and definitely not wanting there to be a bigger possibility that you’d bump into Yoongi.

You were shocked at his quick response to help you. You assumed it was just a small sickness you had been experiencing since returning to work under HYBE LABELS, but he insisted you go straight to the hospital. His tone had changed; there was a sense of urgency in the way he spoke.

“I-I’m fine.” You spoke, your voice shivered and weak which only made him walk a faster inside your office and towards you.

“Please,” he rolled his eyes at your words. “You look terrified. Let me help you.” He said, already helping you up to your feet and carrying the horrible smelling trashcan with him.

As much as you wanted to decline the help, he was persistent. He didn’t want to leave as you continued to feel sick, worried that you may throw up again. It was a mortifying situation all around.

So he guided you out of the building and to his car. “Isn’t this dangerous? We could be seen like this. Aren’t you already in a relationship?” You speak, looking up at him with worried eyes but he just laughs and flashing a smile at you.

“Wow~ Someone keeps up with the media.” He says teasingly and your face flashes red with embarrassment as your eyes widen. You had been a fan of BTS for a while, and kept up with them from time to time when you weren’t busy. You knew all of their songs by heart and even have some BT21 merchandise which made what happened with Yoongi even more embarrassing.

“I’m kidding,” Jin waves you off as he steps in his car and puts on a mask and hat. “We should be fine.” He says and it was only after a few minutes that you finally managed to calm down. Your cheeks still red from embarrassment as you looked up at Jin.

You managed to get through the whole car ride to the hospital without throwing up in his car, which you were thankful for. You two made small conversation, as he drove his kindness and concern melted you inside.

You ended up telling him about how you were from the other company and recently joined, and you also told him that you briefly worked with Yoongi on a song of his. He ended up playing it right then in the car and praised you the whole time. It was comforting but also made the incident even more embarrassing since Jin was so close to Yoongi.

Finally you arrived at the hospital and Jin tired his best to calm your nerves as you did the paperwork and waited for a doctor to come look at you.

Your eyes widen when someone called your name and both you and Jin stood up.

“Please, you’ve helped me enough and you’re probably super busy.” You try to deny his help once again, Jin’s relationship with Yoongi still crossing your mind but caring about his job as well.

"Ah, it's no problem~ I was only working on the last drafts of my single, I can always get to that later." Jin says before looking around the waiting-room. "Besides, I gave you a ride here. I’m not going to abandon you.” He says sweetly, looking straight into your eyes.

You didn’t know what to say, so you just nodded. You had to admit that his kindness has warmed your heart after weeks of feeling terrible and alone. Jin was different. He stayed there until you were all cleaned up and took some blood and urine test in the bathroom. It was so embarrassing, but he was so genuine in his kindness.

After several minutes of waiting, the doctor finally comes back into the room, a clipboard in hand.

"Good news Ms Y/N. I've gotten the test back and I've found out why you’re feeling ill." She starts as you grip to every word and Jin listens quietly too. "There seems to be high levels of human chorionic gonadotropin or hGC in your blood and urine."

She pauses giving you a moment to digest her words and when you show no reaction she explains further. "HGC is made only when a woman is pregnant. The most being when that woman is in the first trimester. Congratulations, you’re about four weeks pregnant."

Your heart sank. Being pregnant was not on your plans at all, and now you had to deal with that while working in close proximity with your ex and his bandmate.

You had no idea how to respond. You were speechless. Part of you was in too much shock to process what happened, your face going pale the more you thought about it.

You knew good and well who the father was.

Yoongi was a famous idol, you two were now in the same company which was forbidden and made everything worse. If news got out that you were possibly caring his child you’d lose your job and most likely get attacked on social media.

Before you knew it, you would be a jobless single mother. What were you supposed to do?

“Wow, congratulations.” Jin’s voice pulls you back from your thoughts. You hadn’t even noticed that the doctor had left the room until you look up from the floor.

You make eye contact with Jin and realize his gaze never left you. He had to know something was wrong by your reaction, and the slightly narrower eyebrows of concern made that clear.

The fact that Jin had no idea who the father was made this a million times worse. Here he was putting his Could you really tell him it was his bandmate?

Guilt swam in your stomach, making it do flips and turns as you looked at him, not knowing what to say. Just praying that you wouldn’t have to see Jin ever again.

But as it seemed, bumping into someone you were actively trying to avoid seemed to be a hidden skill of yours.

“Y/N?”

Your feet stop dead in your tracks when you hear your name, your back turned to the voice that you immediately recognized.

Your heart thumps in your ears, deafening you slightly as it beats so hard in your chest that you think it might burst out. Your breathing immediately gets heavy as you start to panic.

You think back to all the nights alone. All the mornings you spent crying while listening to his voice. All the pain and regret you felt whenever you even thought about him.

The thought alone makes you nauseous, and you almost stumble when suddenly he is right behind you and manages to catch you before you can tilt to the side.

His quickly and smoothly wraps his hand around your waist to catch you, supporting your body weight as he pressed himself up against you. He felt so strong as he held you upright, supporting your weight and keeping you on your feet. Your knees buckle from under you as you realized how close he was. Your bodies pressed together, his breath against your ear.

Everything reminds you of that night, except this time there’s a huge difference now.

You quickly try to push him away from you but you’re undoubtedly more weaker than he is. He grips your arms and turns you to face him, his eyes boring into your while your stomach begins to flip. You can smell him and finally get to see all the features you once worshipped. It’s unreal how the more he aged the better he began to look, even if his features stayed the same.

Yoongi.

His black hair wasn’t nearly as long as it was now and he looked a little more fit but tired at the same time. All the memories of that night come flooding back to you like a terrible nightmare.

“Oh, Y/N! Hey!” Jin’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts just like he did two week ago when you first found out. This time when you pull away from Yoongi, he lets you and takes a step back as Jin catches up to the two of you.

“Hey..” You say nervously, giving him an awkward smile that doesn’t even compare to the bright smile Jin is giving you.

Yoongi raise an eyebrow at the two of you, but before he can even ask how you know each other, Jin speaks again.

“Oh Y/N, how’s the morning sickness treating you?”

You can hear glass shattering in the back of your mind as You and Yoongi make eye contact.

[outsideratheart]

Meant to be - snippet (Alexia Putellas x reader)

A/N: this is only the first part of this fic which could be read as a stand alone fic or prequel to Birthdays in Bed. There is more, I promise.

Life has a funny way of giving you the thing you wanted most exactly when you needed it. Sometimes you think it isn’t meant for you, only for it to happen a few months later. 

Both you and Alexia were emotionally exhausted after going through 4 rounds of IVF. The first time didn’t take which you knew was a possibility but the fourth, that one was successful. As Christmas morning came around you watched as Alexia handed out Eli and Alba two very different presents that held the same meaning. They both welled up upon realising what it was you were telling them.

It was happiest time of your lives but only a couple a weeks later, a few days into the new year something felt wrong. You woke up in the middle of the night with sharp pains in your lower abdomen. When you pulled back the bedsheet and saw the red stains you knew exactly what was happening. Alexia woke up just as you got out of bed and saw you go into the en-suite. When she saw the cause of your awakening she jumped out of bed and ran to you.

It was a tough couple of months that followed. The team hadn’t been told that you were expecting so at least training was like normal, that was about the only place. You and Alexia were grieving the loss of your child and it was starting to take its toll. You had a decision to make. Do you try again or take a break to process the loss. In the end you agreed to try once more and if that one didn’t take then you would take a break until the summer where you would try another round.

“Are you ready?” Alexia stood in front of you in your bedroom with the test in her hand. You had sent her into the bathroom to get it as you were too nervous.

You nod your head. That told her yes but that wasn’t was you were feeling. You weren’t ready and that’s because you didn’t know if you want it to be positive or negative. The miscarriage affected you mentally more than you could have imagined.

Alexia looked down and whilst you tried to remain stoic, you saw her features drop a little bit and that told you all you needed to know.

“It’s negative, isn’t it?” You hold your hands out for her to take. She joins you on the bed and rests her head on your shoulder.

“Why is the universe so against us starting a family?” Your wife asked in defeat “We are good people”

“You, my love, are the amongst the very best people” you softly kiss her hairline “This is something that is out of our control. I have put a lot of stress on my body over the years may—“

“No!” Alexia’s head snapped up “You won’t blame yourself for this”

Alexia knew that you blamed yourself for the loss of your unborn child and whilst you promised you were doing better, she knew deep down the guilt was still there.

“I was going to say that it’s because of this stress that it might take a little bit longer than we hoped. Let’s face it, we are not the most patient people in the world”

The woman beside you chuckled as she fell backwards so she is now laying on the bed.

“We will have a family Alexia. It will happen when it is suppose to happen” 

“How do you know that?” 

“I don’t but I refuse to believe the alternative. Now, go shower because we have training in a hour and you know we can’t be late”

It was true. Every training session was crucial at the minute. The team were only a couple of games away from winning the league, the Champions League final was at the end of May and the Copa de La Reina semi final and final was at the beginning of June. It was a busy time for Barcelona and truth be told it was a welcomed distraction for the both of you.

Before you knew it you were playing in the Copa de La Reina final having won the league and the champions league within the span of a month. It was a final again Atleti, your favourite fixture of the season. You got to play against some of your best friends and it was always a good game.

“Once last game. What do you say? Shall we have some fun?” You nudge Alexia as you exit the locker room for the warms up.

“And dinner afterwards” Alexia suggested.

“You do realise that if we win then the whole team will be going on out dinner” you teased.

“I’ll take that as a yes” Alexia kisses you on your lips, leaving you in shock. Never had she done that before a game and not out in the open, not that you were complaining.

You ran your fingers over your lips as you savour the feeling of your wife’s lips on yours. There was something going on with Alexia. She was untouchable on the pitch and she played you ball after ball. Lola did a very good job at keeping your shots out of the net but some she stood no change at stopping. Going in to the final minutes it was 3-2 to Barcelona.

You were through on goal and it was only going to end one way. You felt so confident in the shot you had planned that you were already planning your celebration in your head. Only you never got the chance to fulfil it as you felt the full force of a pair of studs connect with your ankle and you heard something snap. Carmen was by your side immediately.

“Y/N! Y/N!”” Lola joined her followed by Alexia a couple of seconds later. Your wife didn’t push the defender out the way as she knew the tackle wasn’t on purpose. She simple went to your other side but not before looking at your ankle which was clearly broken.

It was bad. You knew this so you didn’t argue when the stretcher came onto the pitch. You were strangely calm as you talked to the physios and the players around you.

“Ale, please come with me to the hospital? I can’t go there alone not after last time” 

Staying and playing out the final seconds was never even a thought in Alexia’s mind. She knew the moment you were referring to and whilst you would be going to a different part of the hospital, she wouldn’t let you go alone.

A couple of hours later you were laid in a hospital room. Alexia was by your side as you both wait for the x-ray results. You knew they had to take them but you didn’t need a medical degree to know that you broke you ankle, it was a clean break and you knew that you would be out for an extended period of time.

It felt as is every five minutes three more footballers joined you in your room. You were pretty sure this many visitors weren’t allowed but you also know that the nurse was a fan which explains the leniency.

When the doctor came in there was enough football players to have a starting 11 and some subs. The older man laughed as he scanned the room. 

“I have your results. Miss Y/L/N—“

“It’s Putellas-Y/L/N” Alexia hated it when people called you by your maiden name even though the two of you never officially announced you were married.

“My apologies. Miss Putellas-Y/L/N” The doctor sent Alexia smile who nodded whilst smiling herself “as I was saying, I have your results. I think it’s best to talk to you in private. Your wife can stay of course”

Up until now you had remained in high spirits having already accepted your fate but the doctor words dampened those spirits entirely. 

“Is something wrong?” Alexia asked as she squeezed your hand three times.

“Not necessarily”

You told your friends that it was ok to leave and the doctor promised to come and get them once the results had been discussed.

The atmosphere in the room did a complete 180 as you and Alexia waited for the doctor to speak. 

“She has broken her ankle, no?” Alexia’s patience grows thin.

“Yes, let’s start with that” he says which confuses you and Alexia “You ankle is broken. It was a clean break but is a bad one. We are going to take you into surgery in the morning”

“No, you do it now. She is a professional athlete. She is a priority”

The doctor looked at you for help.

“Alexia, let the man speak. I’m sure there is a reason for the delay in surgery. There is a reason, right?” 

“There is a reason. It is part of procedure to take blood tests when a patient gets admitted. Y/N,” the man donning a white coat moves closer to you “Have you been trying to start a family?” 

This was private information. Information that you and alexia didn’t feel comfortable discussing with a stranger, nor were you ready to talk about it.

“We were. Did that play a part in the break? Did the hormones I’m taking weaken my body?” 

The doctor looks at you, over to the Alexia and then back to you.

“You’re pregnant. Rather far along actually”

You were rendered speechless. How is this possible? The text was negative and you haven’t tried since. There was no way you were pregnant. Alexia must share the same disbelief because she explains this to the doctor. He confirms again that you are indeed pregnant and that the hospital tests are much more accurate that the ones you take at home.

“You’re 9 weeks along. I have a nurse ready to give you an ultra sound if that is something you would like or we can schedule it for the moment when things are a little bit quieter” he laughs as he dips his head to the door, a reminder that your friends are outside.

“Are you sure?” Alexia asks still not believing what she is hearing.

“100%” and with that the doctor left you and your wife alone to proceed what he has just told you.

[flemingsfreckles]

Trying Again Part 2

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Preview: Read Part 1, based off this suggestion, basically this fic just goes through what each month looked like for reader and Jessie once they learned they were expecting.

Warnings: pregnancy fic, morning sickness, discussion of labor/birth (again nothing graphic), suggestive, mentions of sex (nothing explicit), cursing

WC: 3.0k

A/N: this isn’t necessarily a part 2, but it’s kind of a continuation of Trying Again, walking through each month of pregnancy, I’m just labeling it Part 2 because that makes more sense than it being its own fic

Month 1

You nearly miss month 1 just not knowing. You didn’t take the pregnancy test until you were about 3 weeks along. Once you found out Jessie immediately assumed the role of overly prepared parent.

She came home the day after you had given her the positive test with a couple massive shopping bags.

“What on earth did you buy?” You asked her when you saw the pile of bags.

“Just some things. I’ll show you.” She proceeded to unload baby book after baby book on every topic. Books on pregnancy, books on supporting your partner through pregnancy, books on the actual birth process, books on the baby’s first year, books on how to raise a teenager. It was safe to say she had gotten ahead of herself but you couldn’t even fault her. The way she showed you each one with such excitement in her eyes and voice was adorable.

The next bag was filled with other baby items, blankets, clothes, pacifiers, stuffed animals, and a tiny pair of Nike shoes.

“Jessie, the baby will wear those for all of 5 minutes before they fall off and they outgrow them.”

“I know but they’re just so cute and little.” She grinned at the shoes, holding them in her hands. “I can’t believe our baby is going to be this small.”

Month 2

Month two was filled with morning sickness. Jessie is a saint, getting up with you every time, bringing you water and new clothes. She’d gather your hair in her hand, holding it away from your face. She’d get your toothbrush set up with toothpaste and hand it to you once you were done throwing up. She’d help you shower if you wanted to feel refreshed and then she’d tuck you into bed, making sure you were comfortable with a fresh glass of water next to your bedside. She’d hold you tight, in whatever position made you the most comfortable.

Your hormones were starting to jump to extremes. Jessie found you crying on the couch one day over a sock. To be fair to you, the socks didn’t have a match and that upset you deeply. She had held you on the couch while your hand clutched the sock tightly, rubbing your back gently. She then went and found the missing sock. You got angry quickly, she hadn’t told you she was stopping at the store to grab you some snacks and when she got home, later than she had told you to expect her you had been at the door yelling at her. Of course you apologized and also cried when she explained she had just gotten you a little surprise, the basket she held out to you containing snacks, new slippers, some bubble bath, and some baby clothes. You felt guilty for yelling, but you were irritable, tired, and just relatively in a bad mood.

Month two was also when you told your teams. The Chelsea girls first followed by the Lionesses and Canada. Everyone was naturally excited and thrilled for you and Jessie. Niamh was your biggest supporter beside your wife, she was with you on both teams and was Jessie’s eyes and ears when she couldn’t be with you. The girl would get up with you when you got sick, offering you water. She checked in during training, making sure you weren’t feeling ill.

You also both told your families at this time, Jessie’s sister the most excited out of anyone, quick to claim the role of “best aunt”. You were overwhelmed with everyone’s excitement about your baby, you knew they would be so loved by your families both biological and your chosen families you had created.

Month 3

Month three was similar to month two. Your morning sickness continued and Jessie continued to be your biggest support throughout. Your body began to feel more fatigued, you were sleepy all the time, doing nothing but training and sleeping. Jessie cuddled up with you on the couch after training, scratching your back or your scalp. The tiredness also led to more mood swings, you were angry one moment and then crying and then crying tears of joy. Jessie handled it all with grace, you knew you were being a terrible person to her and she didn’t deserve it, but growing a human was a lot of work and it took a huge toll on your body.

Training was becoming harder. Your clothes start to fit differently, your breasts becoming sore that it hurts to run around for long periods of time no matter the sports bra you wore. You were still irritable, the early morning wake ups to be sick did nothing to help your mood. You started to have weird cravings and changes in the foods you liked and disliked.

You had woken up from a nap one afternoon to Jessie cooking what used to be your favorite meal, however when she placed it in front of you, it repulsed you. When Jessie asked you why you weren’t eating it you had to tell her you didn’t want what she made. Jessie of course took no offense to your disgust, getting up from her own plate to immediately start cooking you something else. You cried when she handed you a new meal, overwhelmed with her cooperation and kindness toward you. She just kissed you and told you she’d do anything for you.

It wasn’t an easy month, maybe the worst out of the whole pregnancy but with Jessie’s help and support you made it through, day by day and night by night.

Month 4

Month four was when things settled, your morning sickness started to fade, happening less and less frequently. Month four however was the time when you and your doctor decided it was time to slow down with training and playing. It was a hard couple of days, realizing you were about to take a break from the one constant in your life, but Chelsea was great about it. You still attended the end of season practices and games, just with less and less involvement until you were solely on the sidelines.

You had also developed the sex drive that was through the roof. Jessie would breathe in your direction and you were ready to jump her bones. Jessie couldn’t complain too much about this side effect, she was getting laid everyday. It was fun for her for the first few days. Then she was starting to cramp in her forearms, fingers, her jaw, all sore from the pleasure she was providing you. Her own sex drive was also not affected by hormones; she just wasn’t always in the mood for multiple rounds of sex, every day, but she happily gave you what you needed, often for nothing in return.

Niamh had poked fun to Jessie when the two of you walked in and Jessie looked exhausted while you were grinning ear to ear.

“Long night again?” She bumped Jessie with her shoulder as you walked ahead to your locker.

“Oh my god Niamh, this time it was before bed, then twice in the middle of the night when we were both awake, and then again this morning. My body can only handle so much. I’m sore. I’m sore, from sex!”

“Oh boo hoo Fleming, god forbid your wife wants you to fuck her an insane amount.”

Jessie blushed at Niamh vulgarity. “I know Niamh, and I love her, and she’s literally growing my child, so of course I want to give her everything she needs and wants. And I love having sex with her, but oh my god a person can only take so much, it’s like the second week of this too.”

“Then get something to help.” Niamh shrugged, hoping to help her friend while not upsetting you.

To solve her own pain, Jessie went out and bought you a couple new toys that the two of you could share while preserving her muscles. You were plenty satisfied with the new purchases, enjoying them with Jessie. Jessie was satisfied that she was able to go about her daily tasks and not have her fingers or forearm cramp up on her.

Month 5

This was the month you found out the gender of your baby. You had gone to the doctor to get an ultrasound, when you told the technician you didn’t want to know the gender right away they sealed the reveal in an envelope for the two of you to take and open on your own time. You then gave that envelope off to Magda and Pernille as they were in town, allowing them to set up your gender reveal. They weren’t around as much, you and Jessie had been close with them on Chelsea and wanted them to have a role in your pregnancy. When you asked them to help with this they were ecstatic. You didn’t want anything too crazy or over the top. They had set up a small gathering, you, Jessie, Niamh, Zerica, with Pernille and Magda hosting what made up your small Chelsea family. They had cooked everyone a dinner, making it a nice evening, in addition to the gender reveal.

They had made a cake, covered in a white frosting, the inside cake was dyed pink or blue. You were so excited seeing the cake, you had asked for something simple and not over the top, that’s exactly what they had given you, and it was cake, you loved cake. You and Jessie both held the knife as you cut a slide into the cake while everyone else stood watching, Magda and P watching your and Jessie’s faces, already knowing the gender they didn’t need to watch the knife the way that the rest of you were.

You had burst into tears when you pulled the knife out and the pink tint frosting and cake crumbs clung to the knife. Magda and P both looked horrified at your reaction, not knowing what happened while Jessie, Niamh, and Z laughed. The three of them having a front row seat to your emotional swings everyday at training. Jessie gently rubbed your back through your emotions.

“I’m so happy. I promise.” You really didn’t care what your baby was, you would’ve been an emotional wreck boy or girl. “I’m just so excited.”

Niamh takes the cake and knife away from you, going to cut it up and serve it to everyone. You dry your tears and Z pulls you into a big hug.

“I’m going to make her a keeper.” She whispers to you. “Don’t tell the rest of them.” You laugh into her hug.

Month 6

You were laying on the couch after a long day of doing hardly anything, but everything felt exhausting these days. You couldn’t sleep on your stomach like you usually did. Sleeping on your back was anything but comfortable, and your side wasn’t much better. Your legs hurt, your ankles hurt, your feet hurt, everything was miserable.

You often would just lay on the couch after you and Jessie returned home from training, her practicing, you watching and coaching. Jessie would lay next to you, her hands always finding their way to your belly, gently holding it, drawing circles, she’d lean in, placing her lips to your bump kissing it gently and softly speaking to the baby.

“You’re going to be so loved, you already are so loved. I can’t wait to meet you.”

Jessie had already told the baby about how you two met, all about your first date, how you proposed to her and how she proposed back, she talked about your wedding, she told the baby everything.

Jessie was resting next to you, her ear pressed against your belly as she whispered to the baby, her hand gently caressing your skin. One thing about Jessie was she couldn’t keep her hands off your bump. She always asked to touch you and you always said yes but once you gave her permission, her hands would remain on you as long as she could.

“Hi baby girl”

That’s when you feel it and Jessie feels it. Your baby is kicking. It’s not painful but it’s uncomfortable as you feel the pressure from her foot inside of you.

“Babe?!” Jessie pulls her head from on your stomach, eyes wide in panic as she looks up at you.

“Did you feel that?” You weren’t sure if Jessie felt it outside of your stomach, you felt it inside.

“She kicked! Oh my god she kicked.”

“She kicked!” You exclaimed, bringing your hand back down to where the previous kick had been. Feeling the baby kick again. Jessie looks up at you, her eyes slightly teary.

“That’s our little girl.” Jessie says, her hand on your stomach still, a tear spilling over as she looks at you with love in her eyes. “Our baby.”

You baby kicks a few more times, each time you and Jessie look at each other with big smiles. “With a kick like that she’ll end up a striker like her mama.” Jessie says after one of the stronger kicks she gives you.

“We’ll see, Z said she’s making her a keeper.”

Month 7

You came home from a day out with your own mom to loud noises and voices coming from the extra bedroom that was set to become a nursery. You walk over to the doorway and see your wife, hammer in one hand, the other holding paper instructions. You look further into the room and Niamh, Sam and Zerica are all standing holding various pieces of wood and hardware.

They’re all silent, staring at you as you step into the room.

“You’re not supposed to be home yet!” Jessie looks up at you from the floor. She looks concerned at your early arrival.

“I know but I was starting to not feel great so I had my mom drop me home. What are you all doing?” You look between your three teammates and wife. You’re pretty sure you can figure out what they’re doing but ask anyway.

“It was supposed to be a surprise, we were getting the nursery ready.” Jessie explained to you.

“We’re building the crib.” Sam pipes in, she holds out the piece of wood she’s holding.

You walk further into the room, reaching over to grab some of the tools wanting to help out.

“No!” Jessie says as she bats your hand away from the tools. “Sit there.” She points to what you assume is a newly built rocking chair. “You can watch and yell at us, but no helping, you need rest.”

“Fine.” You sit down on the chair hesitantly, you trusted Jessie when it came to following instructions and building something correctly but you couldn’t say the same for the rest of your teammates. The chair held you, it was surprisingly comfortable. Niamh brought over an ottoman for your feet to rest on and they all got back to work. You watched as the previously empty room became filled with wall decorations and furniture. The girls would ask where you wanted certain pictures or items within the room, it was nice to be involved while not straining yourself too much.

Month 8

You have the baby during the eighth month. 8 months and 3 weeks and a day to be exact. She arrives a little early, no concern to your doctor but her slightly early arrival has Jessie stressing in the hospital room.

“Is it too soon?”

“Babe, the doctors said it’s practically like she’s coming at full term, it’s okay. She’s just 6 days early.” You’re nearly sick from watching Jessie pace laps back and forth across your room. Her hands are either in her hair, picking at her skin, or playing with her shirt, all nervous habits.

Unfortunately your labor was anything but easy. You had started contractions in the middle of the night, you and Jessie rushing to the hospital with nothing except the perfectly packed hospital bag your wife had made.

Despite the rough labor, Jessie was the most perfect partner to have during labor. She did well under stress, despite her earlier nerves once you were actually ready to have the baby she was level headed again. Jessie was attentive to you, bringing you ice chips, new blankets, rubbing your feet, rubbing your back. She was advocating for you whenever the opportunity arose. When you decided you wanted an epidural after trying to tough out the pain for 7 hours, she didn’t question you, she happily held your hand as the medicine was put in your back.

It wasn’t until 12 hours after you had gotten to the hospital that your baby girl made her arrival. Jessie let you squeeze her hand so hard you were convinced you were going to break it and she never complained once. She helped you by holding one of your legs as she pressed her forehead to yours, whispering words of encouragement and praise. She occasionally would look, wanting to see her baby girl despite her being adamant that she wasn’t going to look prior to arriving at the hospital, she was worried about getting queasy, she didn’t always do well with blood.

When your daughter finally came out crying they placed her quickly onto your bare chest quickly followed by a blanket.

“You’re incredible. That was amazing, I love you.” Jessie whispered with tears running down her face. Her eyes look between you and your daughter on your chest. You got to watch as Jessie cut the umbilical cord, a huge grin across her face.

Nurses then took your daughter, cleaned her up and swaddled her into a soft pink blanket. They come to hand back your daughter to you, you look over to your wife who’s patiently standing watching you, she hasn't yet gotten to hold your little girl.

“You want to hold her?” You ask and Jessie just nods at you. The nurse passes Jessie the bundle with your daughter wrapped inside.

You watch as Jessie holds your daughter for the very first time, you get emotional, tears welling up. Jessie looks up to you, her eyes matching yours, on the brink of tears.

“Thank you for making me a mom.”

[elvenbeard]

Old and Happy

😭 my feels have been all over the place since I finally finished this! Don't even remember when I started, as I kept working on and off on it over a couple of months. But I think it was after writing something particularly angsty and going "you know what, they will get their happy ending though, so it's all good".

Some details and thoughts below the read more cause it got long hhhh ;A;

This is in about 2087 maybe, roughly "ten years later". Vince changed his hair, ditched the rattail for good (or again xD) for something still colorful but a bit more easy to style. But he might change it up again, he's done so repeatedly and still likes to experiment with his hair.

Not visible, he probably would've added some elements to his back tattoo after surviving all of 2077. Johnny's tattoo he covered up as well, he would've done that first probably before the back piece. Adding some things here and there over time, with colors and patterns and wings, some cherry blossoms ('cause a thing of beauty will never truly fade away - hence just not getting laser removal but covering it with something that suits him more, but keeping some elements like the J and V visible). It started with three roses below the "V" as a little homage to Jackie, and 2077 as the year that finally put him on the right track in his life, even if it almost killed him in the process.

Overall he is a healthier weight than he was for most of his life, and finally got some therapy he desperately needed to deal with all the crap he went through pre-2077 already. He's not dyeing his first grey hairs because hell, that he's even still around to get some is amazing with his line of work and life story. And he realized that there's no need to be super well put togeher 24/7, clean shaven and whatnot, when you know you're just gonna be hanging out with your man and cat all weekend (and actually allowing yourself to something like that - leisure time and pizza in bed, unheard of to 2077!Vince). He's doing good and feels good and comfortable, physically and mentally.

Kerry also changed, also embracing the dad bod over abs, probably still experimenting with his looks a lot now and then whenever the label feels like they need to draw attention to him for whatever reason. But to the brown eyes he returned in 2078 already in my headcanon for the Sun ending timeline, and he stuck with them.

Overall I think he might finally care a little less about other people's opinions too, the buzz and the drama, cause he knows that at the end of the day there's always gonna be someone waiting for him at home who loves him unconditionally. He's a bit calmer and at ease, but of course still up to no good whenever he gets the chance to stir shit up xD Vince and him remain to be a dangerous duo you don't wanna mess with. At that point Vince is a well-respected, even if somewhat elusive, fixer, so he's probably even more dangerous now than he used to be as a mere merc with an arsenal of connections and resources at his disposal that can almost rival Kerry's.

I also gave Kerry a lil new cyberware piece on his hand - he is an old man and I think, using his hands as a musician on the daily, at some point there's just gonna be some wear and tear to your bones and joints only tech can fix anymore... Especially if you're stubborn and refuse to retire cause no, you're not done yet, you still have so much to yell into the world and music to make, stuff to add to your legacy and all.

Last but not least: Nibbles is an old lady already as well here, but living her best life with her dads spoiling her rotten, of course!

And then öalkshjdfagsdföasgdfaösfh ;___;

Y'know, "to bad decisions" and all, and two very different pieces still fitting together perfectly somehow, and light and shadows, and the sun and moon and yeah. ;___; Brb crying, the feels are back xD

Thanks so much for reading if you made it this far!! They mean so much to me and aösdjhfajsfhasfk could go on forever about every little detail xD On to the next drawing!

[azurevi]

everyone loves you (at least i do)

pairing: leona x gn!reader (reader = prefect)

note: inspired by first love and the song by matt maltese under the same name. 2.6k; not too proud with how it came out but it’s just a lil something to get the idea out of my head :P

The first time Leona caught someone asking you out in the botanical garden, he was irritated to say the least.

The garden had always been the first choice for those who wanted to confront their crushes, what with the cozy temperature and flamboyant plants making for an idyllic atmosphere, not to mention the lack of wandering students.

Except for Leona, that was.

As time went by, he learned to tune out the pathetic confessions and over-the-top declarations of love. So long as they weren’t doing it right next to his napping spot, he had no interest in others’ dating lives. 

His disinterest went down the drain when he picked up your presence one day, automatically rousing him from his sleep. It was undeniable that he enjoyed your occasional visits and that you were good company, but that was all. 

Still, he waited for you to spot him under the tree, but you never came. Instead, you stopped a few feet away. and that’s when he picked up another foreign scent.

“I’ve been feeling this for a long time,” the faceless student started, his voice shaking near the end of the sentence. “But I really like you. Would you like to go out with me?”

Leona’s tail smacked loudly on the grass, but it went unnoticed. His eyes were wide open now, face as still as a statue as he processed his words. Someone was asking you out when he’s just steps away. It’s weird how it planted a bitter taste in his mouth, but perhaps he was just infuriated that he got woken up by something so… trivial. He should just go back to dreamland.

Instead, he listened closely for your answer.

“Um, thank you,” You sounded conflicted. “But I'm afraid I can't do that, sorry.”

“Ah…” The student was audibly disappointed. “I see. Sorry for bothering you.”

“It’s-” you opened your mouth to reassure him, but he was already scurrying away, head low like a child who just got berated by his parents. The corner of Leona’s lips quirked up, amused by your candid rejection.

Moments later, he heard you leave as well. It bugged him that you didn’t think to find him, but he’s too caught up with relief to care.

Relief. How strange that he would feel comforted by that. Shaking his head, he lowered himself onto the grass and dozed off again.

To his surprise and dismay, it didn’t end there. A week later, the same thing happened: another underclassman invited you to the garden with a box of chocolate in hand. Your position worked in Leona's favor— if he just shifted a little, he could observe the whole interaction through the broad leaves. It took an embarrassing amount of effort to stifle his curiosity and the urge to take a peek.

The moment the blonde second-year opened his month, Leona knew that he was a lost cause.

“You know, I’ve been thinking about how we would be a good match. You’re always the center of attention, and I’m handsome and popular, together we can be the hottest couple of the school. So what do you say? Go on a date with me?”

The boy spoke with such confidence, hand flipping his bangs and torso leaning against a thin tree trunk, that Leona almost scoffed. Though he could not see your reaction, from the way you tilted your head and crossed your arms, he could tell that you were not having any of it.

“If it’s being in the spotlight you want, perhaps you’ll have more luck dating someone more special. Like Vil. He’s a celebrity, after all.” You said in a calm voice, as if you weren’t basically suggesting that he walk straight into embarrassment. There’s no way Vil would even look at him, let alone listen to his arrogant and loveless proposal.

“Huh. You do have a point there. Good advice. Thanks a lot,” he patted your shoulder before strolling off like he hadn’t just tried to score a date with you. 

The moment he’s out of sight, you let out an exasperated sigh and turned around. Leona settled into a more comfortable position as you neared, hiding himself behind the lush bushes.

“Leona?” You called, shoving the blades of leaves out of your face as you wandered further in. “Oh, here you are. Wake up, sleepyhead.”

You shook his shoulder, and he pretended to be stirred awake, grunting in annoyance. “What do you want?”

From where you were looking down at him, the glass ceiling casted an almost angelic halo of light around your head. “Wanna grab lunch with me? I heard they added something new to the menu.”

He watched your eager expression before rolling to his side. “I don’t want to go.”

“Oh,” it’s impossible to not notice the drop in your voice. “Okay then.”

As you turned on your heels, he cleared his throat, “We can eat here if you get me one of the new stuff. It’s got meat in it, right?”

That made your mood change as swiftly as lightning. “Loads, actually. I’ll be right back!”

His eyes followed as you dashed away with lightness in your steps, a fond chuckle rumbling in his chest. 

After you returned, you talked some more about the shenanigans your classmates had been getting into and some gossip that had been circulating around the campus. Never once did you bring up the minor hiccups involving the two students, so he didn’t ask. A sense of security had settled in his head now that he’d seen you turn someone down twice, but it would turn out to be short-lived.

If he hadn’t been aware of your popularity among your peers, he certainly did now. It’s only been a month and he already needed two hands to count all the times he’d been roused from peace by someone asking you out. Some were as insincere and playful as the second pursuer, but most were serious, and creative about it too. He'd seen you being presented with balloons, flowers, handmade plushies, all kinds of crafts, heirlooms– there were too many to list. Not to mention the more poetic ones among the followers, who managed to turn their affections for you into something straight out of a fairytale. If he had had a single romantic bone in his body, he might've wept at one of the verses too.

On the surface, he had no idea that you were so popular, but a deeper look gave him all the explanations he needed. You'd stumbled into this world with nary an ounce of magic in you, crashing the entrance ceremony with a cat that breathed fire, and within months of settling down, you managed to stand against not one, not two, but three overblot dorm leaders. There was a courage that burned like a fire inside you.

But that's not all. You were kind and loyal and friendly and genuine, always ready to give a helping hand to whoever was in need. You somehow got on his good side, for sevens' sake. That alone said a lot about you.

It only made sense that all the things he liked you for were adored by others as well, but that knowledge was threatening. There might come a day when you're finally wooed by one of the admirers, or when you eventually set eyes on someone else. There might come a day when you say yes to their confessions and spend so much time with them that you forget all about him…

But then again, he couldn't imagine being on the receiving end as you apologetically turned him down. His pride couldn't take that. Plus it would just make things awkward between you.

How utterly preposterous. As if a prince like him would care if a human or two stopped bothering him.

"I think I have an idea as to what this is about." You said to the boy in front of you.

His ears twitched in your direction. Okay, so maybe he did care. His back was turned to the scene from where he was sitting behind the bench, but he was close enough to catch every word.

"I thought so. People are actually starting to guess who you'll end up with, including me."

Leona knew the owner of that voice. Not personally, but he was usually seen sticking to your side. From the scattered pieces of information you'd told him in passing, that guy was your study partner for alchemy classes and had been one of your best buddies alongside Jack and the other first years. There were times when he spotted the two of you walking down the corridor, matching smiles stuck on your faces.

Was this it? Perhaps the reason you'd rejected all those people was because you wanted to be with someone close, someone whom you knew. This guy– whatever his name was– would be a good choice in this case.

He refused to acknowledge the fear snaking down his spine.

"I wish you would still let me ask though," he said. You didn't outright refuse. Leona's heart sank.

"I've come to fall in love with you in the time we've spent together. I was really worried that confessing would jeopardize our friendship, but I can't keep my feelings from you anymore, or else I will probably go crazy in my head," Fabrics shuffled, it sounded like a velvet box was clicked open, and a tiny gasp escaped your throat. "This isn't much, but… would you like to grab dinner with me?"

Silence. Those pregnant moments weighed heavily on Leona. For once, he couldn't tell whether the deafening heartbeats were his or your friend's.

"This is-" you inhaled deeply. "This is too expensive, I can't take it-"

"It's yours to have. I figured only something like this can encompass how much I love you, so…" he trailed off before forcing a pathetic laugh through his nose. "You can't take it, or you don't want to take it?"

"I'm sorry, Hans. You're a really good friend, but I don't feel that way about you." 

"Oh. That's… that's alright," he cleared his throat, then laughed again. "Man, I kind of expected this, but it still hurts pretty bad. Will you at least keep it?"

"But-"

"I know, but I really do want you to have it. Plus, I got one for myself too! They could be matching friendship bracelets."

You smiled ruefully. "Alright, I'll accept it. They do look cute when put together."

"I know right?" There was a beat before he talked again, this time in a more hesitant tone. "Can I ask you a question?"

You hummed. 

"Is there a reason why you never go out with anyone? Like, are you just not interested in guys or dating in general…" Before you could answer, he clicked his tongue. "Okay, that's not really what I was hoping to ask. Is there someone that you like?"

“Yea, something like that.” The certainty in your voice made Leona’s chest lurch. So that’s it? Someone had already won your heart? Possibilities dashed across his mind: could it be one of the aforementioned friends? The sociable Cater or the cheery Kalim? Or was it Vil, who somehow made his way into your conversation that one time? Or– his tail swished at the thought– was it…

Smack! It disobediently hit the back of the bench, the creak seizing the moment. Your chatting voices were abruptly cut off and replaced by a deafening silence.

“What was that?” Hans said. Footstep approached, his scent moving closer. 

“What was what?” You stopped him in his tracks somehow. “It's probably just the wind.”

“I guess so,” he scratched the back of his head, “Alright then. We should head back for classes.”

“You should go first, I have something to do around here.”

Damn it.

The air seemed to freeze as soon as Hans was gone, as if one tiny movement would break the stillness. Leona listened as the soles of your shoes cracked the grass. There was an intention to conceal your movement, but you would be naive to think that you could sneak up on him.

As expected, you jumped in front of the spot where he’d been sprawled out on, the victorious grin dissolving into confusion when you saw only the dent he'd left on the ground.

“Boo.”

You jumped a great height in the air at the ambush, shooting him a harmless glare as he scoffed at your response.

“Hey there, eavesdropper.”

“Eavesdropper? You were the one who wandered into my territory. Really should've chosen somewhere with more privacy.”

“I thought you denied being the keeper of this garden.”

"That's not the same thing. I'm not taking care of this place, it's too much work,” his gaze trailed down to the bracelets encircled around your wrist, then back to your face again. Perhaps he could find out who the thief of your heart was if he stared persistently enough. 

“What is it?” You waved your hand in front of his face, ruining his plan. 

“There’s something you said back there,” he crossed his arms in front of his chest, noting the way your back stiffened. “Something about you liking someone…”

“You misheard.” 

His ears twitched. “Try again?”

Thud. Thud. Thud. Leona had never found you hard to read until now, watching you muster a look that said ‘I’m not gonna tell you’ despite your heart beating out of your ribcage. There was an answer in there somewhere, and he wanted to get it, wanted to know if it was him. He wanted to know if you wanted to take things further as much as he did.

As if the timing couldn't be better, the bell rang, easing the tension on your countenance. You took the window of opportunity and took a step back, “Oops, time to go. We’ll uh, continue this conversation later? Or start a new one, probably.”

With the quickness of a kitten on the loose, you turned and tried to make a run for it, only to stagger back when he clasped his hand around your adorned wrist. The pad of his thumb grazed over your pulse, passing under his touch in a hastening stream. Finally he caught something– a glimmer of anticipation lighting up your face, vanishing as quickly as it'd come, but there was no mistaking it. Had you always looked at him with such expectant eyes? 

"...Your bracelet came off," he undid the clasp with a discreet tuck and dangled the string of jewelry in the air. 

"When did it even-" you squinted at him suspiciously before snatching it back. "Thank you. I should really go now."

"Just one more thing. How do you like to be asked out?" He smirked as your eyes widened, clearly taken aback. "Hypothetically speaking, of course."

You pocketed the bracelet, drawing a breath before speaking again, pushing the words out with slow deliberation. "Well. It really depends on who's asking. I'm fine with flowers, but I’m not against surprises. Why do you ask?" 

There was a pause, a break in how natural your previous sentences had been. You'd asked the last question in the sort of tone that betrayed what the fake nonchalance might have him believe. Paired with the warm tint on the tips of your ears, Leona felt his heart tighten at the growing confirmations.

“Curious, that's all."

After you finally waved goodbye, he waited until you’d left completely to pull out his phone, the gears in his head turning in high speed. A plan was already taking root in his head:

The next time you came into the botanical garden, he would be the one asking you out.