#but there are a few moments where i really feel connected to their struggles

[writeriguess]

katsuki x female reader where she is usually so closed off behind sassy act but becomes vulnerable for the first time around him when she has drunken her worries away

You were always a force to be reckoned with, strutting through the halls with a confidence that rivaled the best of them. Your quick wit and sharp tongue kept most people at arm's length, a strategy you perfected over the years. It was easier to hide behind the sass than to let anyone see what was really underneath.

Especially around him.

Katsuki Bakugo was a different breed of intensity, someone who met your fire with fire. The few times you exchanged words, it was a clash of egos, both too proud to back down. But despite the frequent verbal sparring, there was something about him that lingered in the back of your mind, an unspoken connection that neither of you had ever acknowledged.

And tonight, it all came crashing down.

The dim lights of the bar flickered above you as you nursed the last remnants of your drink, the alcohol warming your insides and dulling the sharp edges of your mind. You weren’t much of a drinker, but tonight... tonight you had too much on your mind. The pressure of hero work, the expectations, the facade you’d kept up for so long—it all became too heavy.

You let out a sigh, staring into the glass as though the answers to your problems were swirling at the bottom. The buzz in your head softened your usual defenses, and for once, you didn’t feel the need to be so guarded.

That’s when you felt it—his presence. Even in your haze, you could sense Bakugo's intense aura as he approached, his eyes locking onto you from across the bar. His usual scowl was in place, though there was something different in his expression, something almost concerned.

"Tch, what the hell are you doing?" His voice was gruff as he slid into the seat next to you.

You looked up at him, eyes slightly unfocused. "Bakugo..." you slurred his name, barely recognizing the softness in your own voice. "Just... drinking. Relaxing. Like a normal person."

He raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "You? Relaxing? Yeah, right. What's really going on?"

You scoffed, though the sound was half-hearted. "Nothing you need to worry about, okay? I'm fine."

But the second the words left your mouth, you felt your carefully constructed walls begin to crumble. Maybe it was the alcohol loosening your grip, or maybe it was the way Bakugo's intense gaze seemed to see right through you. Either way, the façade was slipping, and for the first time, you didn't have the strength to hold it up.

"I'm not fine," you whispered, voice barely audible over the noise of the bar.

Bakugo’s eyes narrowed, but he didn’t interrupt. He was waiting.

You swallowed hard, trying to pull yourself together, but it was too late. The vulnerability that you'd spent so long hiding was bubbling to the surface, and there was no stopping it.

"I’ve been pretending... for so long," you continued, your voice thick with emotion. "Pretending like everything's fine, like I have it all under control, but... I don’t. It’s exhausting, Katsuki." You rarely used his first name, but it slipped out naturally, your usual barriers completely gone. "I’m so tired."

For a moment, Bakugo was silent, his gaze unwavering as he processed your words. Then, without warning, he stood up and grabbed your wrist, pulling you up from the barstool.

"Come on," he muttered, his voice softer than usual.

"Where are we—" you started, but he cut you off.

"Outside. You need air."

You let him lead you out of the crowded bar, the cool night breeze hitting your face as you stepped onto the empty street. Bakugo didn’t let go of your wrist until you both reached a quiet spot away from the noise. He turned to face you, his expression serious.

"You're an idiot if you think you're the only one who feels that way," he said bluntly, though his tone lacked its usual bite. "Everyone’s struggling. Being a hero isn't easy, and you’re not some invincible machine. You're allowed to be tired."

You stared at him, your mind struggling to process his words. It wasn’t like him to be so... understanding.

"I just... I don’t know how to let anyone in," you admitted, your voice small. "If I do, I’ll fall apart."

"Then fall apart," he said, as if it were the simplest thing in the world. "You think being strong means never breaking? That’s bullshit. Real strength is getting back up after you fall."

Your chest tightened at his words, and before you could stop yourself, tears welled up in your eyes. You hated crying, especially in front of people, but right now, you couldn’t hold it back any longer.

"I'm scared, Katsuki," you whispered, the tears spilling over. "I'm scared of failing, of not being enough."

Bakugo’s expression softened, just a fraction, and he stepped closer. "You're enough," he said firmly, his voice low. "You’re more than enough. And if you fall, I’ll be there to pick you up. Got it?"

His words broke something inside you, and before you knew it, you were burying your face in his chest, the sobs you had been holding in for so long finally escaping. Bakugo didn’t push you away or make some snide comment. Instead, he wrapped his arms around you, holding you tightly as you cried.

For the first time in forever, you allowed yourself to be vulnerable. And for the first time, you realized that maybe, just maybe, you didn’t have to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders alone.

"I got you," Bakugo muttered into your hair, his voice softer than you’d ever heard it. "I’ve always got you."

And in that moment, you believed him.

Requests are open. Send as many as you like.

[x-crowmancer-x]

OKAY RANT ON VIVZIEPOP SCROLL PAST IF YOU DONT CARE

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I like Viv as an artist, shes inspired me since frickin middleschool with her animations, character designs, and now 2 shows holy crap. I just really wish she'd get off social media for her own mental health cuz good god it's not great to see a whole thread of tweets arguing with someone about the dislike of fanfiction having homophobic undertones its just... agdhdh Viv is a pretty controversial person due to unfortunate past events and having shows that present some darker subject matter. Honestly? I want to see Viv not just move past the previous controversy, but learn from it to be better. Its totally fair tho if you think the handling of certain topics arent done well, there are things people will have preference over. And I dont give a fuck about shipping, I dont wanna see it, frankly. If you're doin somethin shady with it and I see it I'm certainly not going to like it and I'll do my best to not interact with you, but I think we should make tagging things just a common thing? Keeps things organized and people can intake what they want while the stuff they dont want is not being shown to them. Same goes with headcanons they're someone imagining something, they arent holding the creators hostage to make it canon. Canon is silly anyways! Both the OG and a headcanon can exist because AUs and headcanons are just another version of the thing. Headcanons arent going to change the episodes, they'll still be the same way the creators made it. So like... chill.

Just as long as it has no mental or physical negative implications or intent against actual living people I will add.

Dont harrass actors because they play a villian you need to separate fiction and reality it's literally their job to pretend to be someone else.

[anantaru]

how would anemo boys act with someone who’s generally really quiet and just doesn’t make much noise? especially in bed 😏

including. scaramouche, kazuha

synopsis. you're hiding your moans from him

cw. [ex]plicit, lots of teasing, rough syx, fingering, scara doubts himself a little we love to see it, dom kazuha, fem! reader

— ꒰ SCARAMOUCHE ꒱

"huh, why aren't you saying anything?" scaramouche asks, staring at you while playfully blending in a few grinding movements on your cunt in hopes you'd just moan his name.

you see to scaramouche, to even get one single sentence out had been really fucking hard, so how come you're having no trouble keeping yourself silent?

all night, he was very sensitive, hissing through each thrust and alternating between rough, rushed ruts and deep, precise grinds that it was slowly getting to him.

"—fuck, j-just something," he mumbles through a tensed jaw, peering down at your perfectly arched body as you teasingly avert your gaze from his, pretending as if the desperate part of him wasn't turning you on a tenfold.

your boyfriend hesitatingly brings a hand to your cheek, "say something, come on," and lets go off a moan, deepening the sealed connection on your cunt and turning his hips slower, making you dart your eyes into the back off your skull when he buries inches after inches in you.

you grin in return, hoping you could at least put up with this game a little longer.

but your cunt was struggling viciously, being so adaptable with how quick scaramouche could change his movements that it left you short on breath— it's all rigid and solid at first, later he stretches you out piercingly fast, until your pussy was twitching on repeat.

your breath gets stuck in your throat as he snaps his cock in before you feel him twitch in you, the very moment you made a slight noise of surprise, "you're not answering my question," scaramouche hisses at you, having his hand stroke your cheek while he makes you take his cock well and nicely.

but whatever, right? it doesn't matter to scaramouche if you're being loud or dead silent— although pondering about the situation at hand, he's been so patient waiting for your flowery whines to bubble from your throat, to your tongue until he listens to them, biding his time and allowing himself to fuck you like he thought you enjoyed it.

what if you didn't enjoy it? everything happened so quickly and he found himself doubting his skills, it makes him go slow and rapid all at once.

to hear you was something he didn't deserve then.

but how much he wanted to hear you say he was doing a good job was ridiculous. as much as it was desperate.

you hum affirmatively in response, your mouth softly attached to his jaw before you rock your hips upwards in a repeated sequence, an electric-bolt snapping in your heat as you moan into his lips— granted, it wasn't the loudest noise you could push out, yet it was a genuine one, to the point where your head spins when you're moaning again, only emphasizing how deeply you were feeling his length pleasure you.

that alone brought scaramouche back to reality.

slick drips from your hole and he knows by the flinch of your touch that you're close. he was breathing heftily against your glossy lips as if it's a relief to have you sing for him now, his cock throbbing hard until he's spasming.

his face silently travels from your eyes to your tits flinging up and down with his shallow thrusts racing through your velvet walls, "I love everything about this," he whispers, slightly flustered, droplets of sweat slithering down his forehead, "you love it too, hm?"

scaramouche needs to know. he lays open mouthed kisses on your cheek and jaw, smearing his saliva over the heated skin.

your moans were euphonious, bird sweet and soothing to his ears, a perfect composition indeed.

"v-very," you cup his cheeks proudly, arching your back into his body as his cock drags across your searing walls,

you go on, pulling your hips up to meet his so he could slip into you deeper, watching how his mouth parts and brows knit together,

"you're doing s-so good, always,"

— ꒰ KAZUHA ꒱

"oh? doing this on purpose, aren't you?" kazuha grunts at the clench you have around his shaft, but then he smirks after you denied his questioning on your noises, or well, the sheer lack of them.

have you gone silent? or do you not like the way he stretches your pussy anymore?

the slow pumps on your cunt had always been precise. kazuha knows you like the back of his hand, in fact, he gets turned on in accessory to displayed a sort of filthy and twisted expression on his darling face, morphing his demeanor on his weighty thrusts on your pussy, so you could see and feel what you're doing to him.

he managed to not only target the places that made your mind rewire, but kazuha would also find new spots you never knew could be stimulated in that way.

"no matter," the man gasps at the rolls through your walls, his thrusts shocking each and every nerve in his body, "i'll just have to get them out of you somehow,"

he adds before pulling his body up so he could prance one hand down the area between your breasts, smothering over the sweat-stricken skin so softly until he reaches your stomach, teasingly pressing down as he cocks a brow.

you can feel how hard he was slotted in your cunt, and when kazuha pushes down on your stomach you thought your little game would end right there. little do you realize that this wasn't his original intention and that he's planned something a whole lot delicious.

he slides a thumb to your clit, leisurely and without a hurry, his erection barely moving now but twitching ever so often as he slowly digs through the delicate skin that was protecting the pearl, rubbing your clit softly to hopefully bring your mewls and whines to the surface.

a searing warmth runs hot in your cunt as your back arches when kazuha alternates between toying with your clit and pumping you of his cock again, slowly dragging his erection against your velvety walls with all he's got.

realize this now— it's that one special way he did it, moving his shaft in a slowed motion so your body could react on how full you've been getting with each inch slotted inside.

your head was above the clouds now, serving to diminish your previous attempts to fool your boyfriend. you needed this so badly right now, you wanted kazuha to make you cum so badly that you're beginning to gasp loudly, so loud in fact that it almost overturned the fast thuds of your heart.

opening your dazed eyes, you needed kazuha to listen and watch you, watch everything he made your body do— how he's bringing his cock in you easily, how he slowly pumps in your hole and meshes his shaft with your arousal, his erection aching, hot, slowly and teasingly spreading you apart.

a whimper slips through your lips when kazuha slants forward, swirling his tongue in your mouth but keeping things slow.

your body shivers under the lewd wetness of sweaty skin on skin rubbing against each other as it provided you with strong, electrifying tremors when your legs begin to clench around his hips, your pussy full of his cock.

"told you so," he hints at his previous declaration as your body combusts in a matter of seconds, your cunt pulsing at his words when your arousal slides over his length with pre dripping from his tip.

"not fair," you whine as he laughs breathily, nibbling on your jawline, the softness of his lips painted with the vivid hues of passion.

©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify, claim as your own

[yesihaveaobsession]

Beautiful as You

Alastor x female! florist reader

Summary: The reader (you) meets Alastor after bringing an order to the hotel, he becomes fond of you and decides to visit you at your little shop.

A/N_- I'm ALIVE! Sorry I have been really unactive I've had horrible writers block but I'm back y'all!!

You’d always loved working with flowers; they had always brought you a sense of peace amidst the chaos of Hell. One day in particular, you received a call from Princess Charlie Morningstar, who was calling from the Hazbin Hotel to place an order for a large arrangement of sunflowers and a few other bright blooms for a special event. You were happy to help her and support her dream, crafting a bouquet that captured the warmth and hope you had always seen in her.

When you arrived at the hotel and knocked on the door to drop off the flowers, you were surprised to be greeted by none other than the Radio Demon himself, Alastor. You were quite starstruck—not just because Charlie wasn’t the one to open the door, but also because you’d heard so many stories about Alastor that seemed to permeate the very atmosphere. After all, who in Hell hadn’t heard of Alastor? But seeing him in person was truly something else.

He greeted you with a broad grin, his eyes gleaming with something you couldn’t quite place, but the thought didn’t last long. He took the bouquet and the other flowers Charlie had ordered from you, and as his large claws brushed against your smaller hands for just a moment, you felt... a connection?

Since that day, Alastor had taken a particular interest in your little shop downtown. He’d passed by it many times during his outings and had always thought about stopping in for a quick look, but this time it was fate. Alastor began visiting regularly, bringing you a handful of wildflowers he’d picked somewhere. These flowers were beautiful, and you often wondered where—and how far—he’d go to find them for you.

One day, you weren’t at the counter when Alastor made his daily visit. Not to mention, he always seemed to come up with little excuses to see you, telling the others at the hotel that he had "business to attend to," but that business was visiting you. You were in the back room, sorting through a new shipment of flowers and preparing some new orders that had just come in when you heard the door chime. Not thinking much of it, you continued with your work.

You pretty much owned and ran the business by yourself, but your friend helped out and was at the counter. She greeted the customer as usual. Alastor's smile widened, though a hint of confusion flickered in his crimson eyes. "Ah, good afternoon," he greeted, his voice crackling like an old radio. "I was hoping to see a lovely florist—she's about yay tall," he held a hand slightly above your height, with a smile as bright as a sunbeam. "You wouldn’t happen to know where she might be hiding, would you?"

Your friend recognized him instantly and struggled to suppress a smirk. "You mean her?" she asked, deliberately raising her voice as she called your name. You emerged from the back room, wiping your hands on your apron to remove the soil and soot, and paused when you locked eyes with him. He was holding his usual bouquet of wildflowers. You wouldn’t think it would surprise you, but you were surprised that he kept coming back.

There he was, grinning at you like you were the most important thing he'd seen all day.

“Good afternoon, my dear,” Alastor greeted, his voice carrying that old-timey radio crackle that sent shivers down your spine. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything too important.”

“N-No, not at all,” you stammered, feeling your cheeks heat up. “I was just in the back... um, what can I do for you?” You tried to keep your cool, and your friend smirked, clearly figuring it out. Alastor then stepped closer to you, holding out the bouquet.

"These are for you, ma chère." You carefully took the wildflowers from him, your fingers brushing against his once again.

"Thank you, Alastor... That’s very sweet of you, and they are absolutely beautiful." Alastor's smile grew wider, sensing that he had made you happy, and he was pleased with himself. "Perhaps... you might consider bringing another arrangement to the hotel sometime soon? Charlie has been raving about the last one you delivered.”

“I’d be happy to,” you replied, your nervousness slowly easing as you met his gaze.

"Excellent," he said, offering a short bow before turning on his heel to leave. He paused at the door and looked over his shoulder: "Until next time, my dear." You watched as he exited your shop, the door chime ringing softly behind him. You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

“Wow,” your friend teased, breaking the silence. “So, how long have you been on first-name terms with the Radio Demon?”

You blushed furiously, unable to hide your flustered state. “It’s nothing like that. He’s just... a customer.”

“Uh-huh,” your friend replied, clearly unconvinced. “A customer who just so happens to bring you flowers and makes you go all starry-eyed. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say the Radio Demon has a crush.”

You tried to protest and glare at them, but deep down, you knew she was right. And you couldn’t wait for the next time—the next order for the hotel, or his visit in general.

[arijackz]

PICK A CARD: Your FS' Secret Kinks

❦ “She lowered her lashes until they almost cuddled her cheeks and slowly raised them again, like a theatre curtain. I was to get to know that trick. That was supposed to make me roll over on my back with all four paws in the air." - Raymon Chandler, The Big Sleep

Disclaimer: This is a general reading, take what resonates. This is a gender-neutral reading, change any pronouns to apply to you.

p1 → p2 ↙︎ p3 → p4

✦ Pile One ✦

Poor lil pooh pooh. This person struggles to “fill their cups up” so they get off on denying themselves pleasure. They secretly like the feeling of hitting whatever rock bottom looks like to them. Honestly, they want to be saved. They are wallowing at the bottom of a well, waiting for their savior to swoop in and throw them a rope. 

In a more literal sense, they want a person to be their reason to live. Their reason to feel daylight on their skin again. Everyone and everything around them is unsatisfying and “fake”. They want something real to coax them out of their hell and entice them with all the thrilling things life has to offer. 

However, they also like this dark and brooding side of themselves. They have a bit of a corruption kink.

They fantasize about a virginal angel coming down to save them, but they end up convincing the angel to sink down to their level. 

They like exciting, spontaneous people who are willing to jump up and run out the door to do something fun at any moment, but think innocent fun. Like going to the movies to theater hop, and getting away without paying. Or, running around the Target parking lot in shopping carts and trying not to bang into cars. Maybe even steal a few street signs. 

Innocent childhood fun that you’d see in early 90s movies. But add a sadistic twist to it that only they are aware of. 

You would be the innocent virgin (doesn’t have to be true, it's their fantasy) who is unknowingly leading this beast (also not true, they are just extremely self-deprecating) to your pretty little happy places which they plan to desecrate.

They want to fuck you in your family home and make a mess of your childhood bed, making you scream so loud that you’re family starts to look at you differently. They want to take you to your favorite movie spots where you usually chill and hangout with your friends and turn it into a place where all you can think about is them covering your mouth in the back of the theater while you’re squirming in their lap, trying to escape out of their grip as they edge you to the new Marvel release. 

They have a kink for turning all of your innocent, fun moments into their very own filthy fantasies.

Ps. Fisting came out of the blue so lube up!

Come To Me, My Senseless Angel

✦ Pile Two ✦

I don’t believe this is a future spouse, to be honest. This might be a situationship you need to move past. They seem emotionally immature, or at least this is a side of them that exclusively comes out when they’re aroused. 

They can be quite abrasive and feel like they are constantly under attack so they’re incredibly defensive. They have a history of lashing out at their loved ones when they feel overwhelmed and get so blinded by their emotions that they disregard their affection for their partners and say really unforgettable, harmful words which permanently alters the connection for the worse. 

They carry guilt from these actions and are in a constant state of regret. In this state, their sense of pleasure is a little twisted. They get turned on by causing a genuine issue in the relationship. They like the idea of pushing you to your limit where you’re this 🤏  close to your breaking point and at your absolute lowest. It’s when you reach your rock bottom and realize the need to move away from this person and you scream out, “I DESERVE BETTER THAN THIS.”

They like to grovel. You know that cycle where somebody fucks up and then they’re in the dog house buying flowers and being extra fluffy just to get in the victim’s good graces so they can do the same thing over again. So far, pile one and two’s respective partners like to feel like shit. They secretly like the moment where they completely fuck up a relationship and have to beg on their hands and knees to get their person back orrrrrr they get off on emotionally tearing someone down to the point where they get on their knees to bed for this person’s attention. 

Either way, there's a lot of fucked psychological issues underneath this fantasy that I’m not unpacking here because it differs from person to person. 

In its best light, this person glorifies struggle love. At its worst, this person is purposefully emotionally abusive with the intent to tear their partner down for their own sexual gratification. 

They’re conscious enough to know their actions are toxic but don’t have the emotional maturity to work past their actions. They’re at the phase where they’re just aware and are like “I know I’m shitty but that’s just who I am. If they stick with me and the sex is good, it’s meant to be.”

I’m honestly getting twitter relationship hypotheticals with this one. Iykyk.

They’re also an edgelord. Less in an internet cockroach way and more in a witty- can be funny if done well- way, but they get pleasure from shocking people nonetheless. This energy can be directed toward you to piss you off and annoy you with the intent of getting in your pants later. 

I’ve been guided to switch the conversation briefly: If this resonates and is someone you are dealing with. It is time to move on. This person gets gratification from hurting you and will not get past that high of tearing down a relationship and then having a messy recovery. They have their own issues to work through and cannot see how they are hurting you. There is no future with this person, they came into your life to teach you a lesson about your self-value. That cycle has run its course and it's time to move on.  

To be honest, I’m not a fan of this person and don’t even want to list the explicit kinks that came out but I will just in case this message is for you but you’re not sure.

Random messages: Hot tub/pool sex, hair pulling, break down crying, interracial, milk, broken condom, “i fucking hate you”, “whore”, mirror, drunk sex, complaining, smack a bitch, twitter

P.S. You’re too sexy for the bullshit! There is bigger and greater out there, you just need to believe that for yourself!

This person will not get a mood board out of me.

✦ Pile Three ✦

Okay, so this person has some deep religious guilt. This is a male presenting person. I am being clear with their sex because it plays a role in this reading. They have some majorly repressed feminine energy. They may even be attracted to the same sex. 

This is a fs reading, so they are likely bi, pansexual, or trans. Either way, their family is close-minded and is not supportive of them. They were forced to leave home so they could finally live their truth. They have lived their entire life fitting somebody else’s narrative. They were the hypermasculine bro type to “cover up” their femininity. 

So, they have a kink for hyperfeminity. It’s almost to the point where they obsess over the caricature of girlhood. I see lots of pink, high heels, full-glam, all-day mall shopping, pinup curls, flashy jewelry, sleepovers, day spas, that scene in Scott Pilgrim where that girl is like “SHE’S PROBABLY LIKE 25!”, and everything else that gets associated with “girlhood” nowadays. 

They fantasize about you in your receptive energy, being waited on and cared for hand and foot. They like to observe the way you move. Everything about you and your feminine aura is incredibly alluring to them. The way with each breath your breasts fall, the way your hips swat with each step, the cute way you match your accessories with your outfits. They notice everything about you. 

You know those paintings of wealthy women lying on their sides and being fed grapes? That. They’re not in the serving role, they're the painter. Their kink is capturing you in those everyday moments where the world seems to be waiting on you like you’re the collective’s queen.

They see femininity in a higher light than the general population. They see women as automatically deserving of this type of care, they also want this care. 

They have a secret hard-on for pregnant women and women with swollen breasts. They have a lactation kink. They fantasize about cumming in you over and over again. They see you as a Goddess, so they want to see you masturbate at church on an altar, like you're waiting to be worshipped. 

A lot of their fantasies, they’re not even included in. It’s just you looking God-like and being worshipped by the world around you. This person may hate when you wear clothes. They act like the fabric is committing a sin by covering your body. They just want to capture your essence. Like an admirer and a student.

P.S. Dick game goes CRAZY. They watch a lot of women-focused porn to study what gets a woman off. Like Maddie in Euphoria, here is there to study.

Pretty In Pink

✦ Pile Four ✦

WE GOT A PLEASURE DOM IN THE BUILDING Y’ALL STAY CALM. As my mama would say, they love your dirty drawls!

You could do no wrong in this person’s eyes. They’re the golden retriever type. Head empty, leading with heart and IN LOVE>>>>>

You are the pot of gold and the end of the rainbow they’re chasing. They appreciate a good fling but they’ve never felt this before. The emotions you stir in them are unprecedented, this is puppy, sandbox love that most people lose touch with after life jades them.

This is raw love at its most unprocessed. I taste honey. 

They have a kink for the power you have over them. It’s like you have a carrot on a stick and they’re the pig being led to a love den they can’t escape. And they’ll happily be the squealing pig in every lifetime they get with you. This is a soul yearning. 

You will know this person because they will proactively pursue you and they will have no doubts in their mind about it. They are really attracted to your physical form, your curves. Even if you’re on the slimmer side, they like your structure and the dips in your spine. They’ll stare at you when you’re talking and zone out, thinking about how attractive they find you. 

They’re not used to having to try to get someone to sleep with them. They have to put effort towards you and they like that. This person is downright thirsty and craves intimacy with you.

Their fantasies aren’t even dirty, they’re passionate. They want to put you in a mating press, with your knees pressed all the way up beside your ears. They want to penetrate (could be with a toy) deeply and touch that gooey part of you that makes you see stars. 

They want to see an imprint of them in your lower belly. Any position where you’re in their arms is a go for them because they like having you. They want every moment to be just you and them away from the world. So very sweet and intimate. They also love marking you, expect lots of hickeys.

Ignore them from time to time too (healthily, these conditions should be discussed beforehand)! They see you as the ultimate prize, so if you delay their satisfaction, they’ll feel like they’re chasing again, which gets them off. They like to feel like they’re convincing you to sleep with them. You both are consenting, but they like the idea of you having better things to do and they’re trying to convince you to stay and party with them. 

They are very action-oriented and love movement. Anything that involves an adventure together, they are down for. 

PS. Surprise them with a bubble bath together, they’ll love that. And tease them while pulling their hair a bit!

Ode To My Darling Sun

[alyrasturnz]

pls write a cute lil blurb where matt and reader are cuddling in bed and she has to get up but matt just pulls her down and basically makes it impossible for her to get out

 ‎ ‎JUST A LITTLE LONGER

❐ summary » y/n finds herself torn between her plans with friends and the irresistible allure of staying in with matt. as the morning sun filters through the curtains, matt's gentle pleas for a few more moments of cuddling create a tender conflict. y/n must navigate the delicate balance between her social commitments and the comforting embrace of her beloved, ultimately discovering that sometimes, the simplest moments hold the greatest significance.

❐ pairings » clingy!matt x fem!reader

❐ warnings » none

❐ a/n && w/c » my shortest blurb i think • 1.62k

the golden rays of the sun filtered through your closed eyelids, casting a gentle warmth that caressed your face like a tender embrace.

it was as if the sunlight itself was whispering sweet nothings to your skin, each beam a soft kiss that stirred a deep sense of tranquility within you. the warmth seeped into your very being, spreading a comforting heat that seemed to melt away the remnants of sleep and worry, leaving you in a serene state of bliss.

you slowly fluttered your eyes open, the sudden influx of light overwhelming your senses and rendering you momentarily blind. the brilliance of the morning sun poured in, a dazzling cascade that seemed to pierce through your vision, leaving you disoriented and struggling to adjust to the brightness.

you shift slightly, the cool bed sheets whispering against your skin, but then you feel matt’s arms tighten around you, drawing you even closer, as if to eliminate any remaining distance between you.

it’s a subtle yet profound gesture, his embrace enveloping you in a cocoon of warmth and security, making you wonder how it was possible to feel even more connected and entwined than before.

you crack a soft smile, shifting once more and slowly beginning to sit up, but matt pulls you back down, his arms wrapping around you with a desperate tenderness, as if you were something ephemeral that might vanish the moment he loosens his grip. his embrace tightens, drawing you closer, as though he fears that releasing you would mean losing a part of himself.

he buried his face into your neck, his breath warm against your skin. "heyyy," he whines softly, planting a tender kiss on your neck. "where are you going?" he asks, his voice hoarse and raspy, laden with the remnants of sleep and a trace of longing.

"i made plans with my friends. we're gonna get brunch," you replied, your voice gentle yet resolute. matt lets out a soft groan, his arms tightening around you as if trying to ward off the inevitable separation, pulling you even closer in a silent plea for a few more moments together.

"no. stay," he grumbles, his voice a low, gravelly murmur, laden with a mix of reluctance and yearning.

matt stretched out, pulling you closer, his arms wrapping around your waist like a warm, comforting blanket. "do you really have to go out for brunch?" he murmured, his voice soft and pleading, tinged with a hint of melancholy. "i was hoping we could stay here and cuddle a bit longer," he continued, his words weaving a delicate tapestry of longing and desire.

you sighed, your fingers absentmindedly tracing intricate patterns on his arms, each touch a silent apology. "i promised my friends i'd join them. we've been planning this for weeks!" you tried to sound resolute, but your resolve was wavering, each word laced with a hint of uncertainty and the weight of unspoken desire.

matt tightened his hold, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck, his breath warm against your skin. "but it's so cozy here. just a few more minutes? i don't get to have you all to myself very often," he murmured, his voice a gentle plea, each word imbued with a tender longing that tugged at your heart.

you bit your lip, torn between your commitment to your friends and the allure of matt's embrace. "i know, but they'll be waiting for me. and besides, we can cuddle later," you whispered, your voice a delicate balance of duty and desire, each word a testament to the inner conflict that raged within you.

matt's fingers gently stroked your back, sending shivers down your spine like ripples across a still pond. "later isn't now. i miss you already, and you haven't even left yet," he murmured, his voice a soft lament, each word a tender caress that echoed the depth of his yearning.

you felt your willpower crumbling under his touch, each caress eroding your resolve like waves against a fragile cliff. "you're making this really hard, you know that?" you whispered, your voice betraying your weakening resolve, each word a testament to the internal struggle that his touch ignited within you.

matt smiled against your skin, his lips brushing your nape like a whispered secret. "that's the plan. come on, just a little longer. i promise i'll make it worth your while," he murmured, his voice a velvet promise, each word a tantalizing temptation that beckoned you to surrender to the moment.

you let out a resigned sigh, knowing you were defeated. "alright, alright. you win. but just for a bit longer, okay?" you murmured, your voice a soft concession, each word a reluctant surrender to the irresistible pull of his embrace.

matt's eyes sparkled with triumph as he pulled you even closer. "that's all i needed to hear. come here," he murmured, his voice a victorious whisper. he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, and you both settled back into the warmth of each other's arms, savoring the precious moments together, each second a cherished fragment of time suspended in the tender embrace of your shared affection.

»--•--«

you had lost track of time, the minutes slipping through your fingers like grains of sand. before you knew it, the gentle pull of slumber reclaimed you, and you fell asleep once more, lost in the comforting embrace of dreams.

you jolted awake, your eyes darting to the clock on the nightstand. "oh no, matt! i missed brunch!" you exclaimed, your voice filled with panic and regret, each word a testament to the fleeting nature of time and the opportunities lost to its relentless march.

matt stirred beside you, a sleepy smile spreading across his face as he stretched languidly. "looks like you did," he said, his voice still heavy with the remnants of sleep. "guess we'll just have to make the most of it here," he added, his words carrying a serene acceptance and a promise of savoring the unexpected moments together.

you groaned, feeling a mix of guilt and frustration wash over you. "i can't believe i fell asleep. they're going to be so disappointed," you murmured, each word tinged with the weight of your regret and the anticipation of their reaction.

matt gently pulled you back down, his arms wrapping around you once more like a comforting cocoon. "hey, it's not the end of the world. you can explain it to them later. right now, just relax," he whispered, his voice a soothing balm, urging you to find solace in the present moment.

you sighed, feeling the tension slowly melt away as you nestled into his embrace. "i suppose you're right. it's just... i hate letting people down," you murmured, your voice a soft echo of your inner turmoil, each word a reflection of the weight you carried within.

matt kissed the top of your head, his voice soothing and calm like a gentle breeze. "you need to take care of yourself too. sometimes, it's okay to put your own needs first. they'll understand," he murmured, each word a tender reminder that self-care is not selfish, but a necessary act of kindness towards oneself.

you closed your eyes, feeling the warmth of his body against yours like a soothing balm. "i guess i could use a bit more rest," you admitted, your voice softening as the comfort of his presence enveloped you, each breath drawing you deeper into a tranquil reprieve.

"that's the spirit," matt murmured, his fingers gently tracing intricate patterns on your back. "just let go and enjoy the moment. we don't get many chances to simply exist, to just be, you know?"

you nodded, feeling the weight of your worries slowly lifting. the room was quiet, save for the gentle hum of the ceiling fan and the soft rustling of the sheets. the sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting a warm, golden glow over everything, as if the very air was imbued with a sense of serene tranquility.

matt's hand moved to your hair, his fingers gently combing through the strands with a tenderness that sent shivers down your spine. "besides," he whispered, "there's something special about these stolen moments. they're ours and ours alone."

a small smile tugged at your lips, a delicate curve that mirrored the warmth spreading through your chest. the truth in his words resonated deeply, like the gentle strumming of a harp. the world outside could wait a little longer. right now, this was your sanctuary, a place where time seemed to stand still, each moment stretching into an eternity of serene bliss.

as you lay there, the rhythmic rise and fall of matt's breathing began to lull you back into a peaceful slumber, like the gentle rocking of a boat on a tranquil sea. the missed brunch seemed like a distant memory, fading into insignificance, replaced by the serene comfort of being wrapped in his arms, a cocoon of warmth and safety.

you felt your eyelids growing heavy once more, the warmth and safety of the moment pulling you deeper into relaxation, like a gentle tide drawing you back to shore. "thank you," you whispered, your voice barely audible, a soft murmur carried away by the encroaching embrace of sleep.

matt's hold on you tightened slightly, a silent promise that he would be there when you woke up. "anytime," he whispered back, his voice a soothing balm to your weary soul, a gentle caress that eased the burdens of the day and promised unwavering presence.

and so, with the worries of the world fading away like distant echoes, you allowed yourself to drift off once more, knowing that in this moment, everything was exactly as it should be, a perfect harmony of peace and contentment enveloping you.

tags — @imwetforyourmom @meatballzerz69 @pinkishpearls @thedangerousalleyway @muchloveforhacker @stinkytinkywinky @jetaimevous @everleiqh @conspiracy-ash @ifwdominicfike

[r0-boat]

Ya know what fuck it NSFW Alphabet with Lycaon bc I just got him and I am in love

NSFW below mdi

Von Lycaon x Gn! reader

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

King of aftercare! Whatever you like, he will more than happily do, then he will check for any marks, and after that, he will give you words and affirmation telling you how well you did and how much he loves you. And he requires a little aftercare himself, holding you close and just having you for a while. He will always ask to keep you.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He likes his hands. He takes great care of them they are soft yet strong, the same hands that will delicately clean and make everything perfect and clean, these same hands that make you writhe in pleasure and he likes that you like them.

Is it cheating to say he likes every part of you? If it is then he likes your hands. He likes pressing his hand against yours because it's a clear indication that he is much bigger than you. He likes to hold your hand,kiss the back of your hand... He likes hands.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

When he wants to cum he will always want to cum inside you. He will even beg to fill you up. He doesn't care if he has to wear a condom or wait for your birth control. He just wants to fill you up.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

You will never know how much dirty thoughts he actually thinks about you. You'll never know how much fists his cock with his hand when he has a moment of peace to himself.

And you'll never know that he has ruts every early spring where he needs you so bad it hurts but he takes suppressants every time so you never notice because the thought of losing control (to Lycaon who values his self-control and discipline) Makes him angry.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He's done it once or twice in his youth. So he's a little inexperienced. But he is a very quick learner, and very perceptive so he will find where all the right places to touch on your body are.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Doggy ahah. Half joking. He doesn't mind any position however he does prefer missionary because he wants to see you and have access to your body so he can touch you, hold you or kiss you.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He does not mind indulging a little bit when you're the one goofing off, petting his tail or touching his ears. but he is as serious as they come. If you get too distracted, he'll be the one to pull you back to what you're supposed to be focused on...

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Extremely well-groomed, He has a whole hair care fur care and facial care routine.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Romance... Now that's what he truly shines, He is as romantic as they come, he sees sex as a very intimate act. And he works hard to set the mood just right for you He wants your eyes to sparkle and light up and he wants his heart to pound hard in his chest when he takes you to the bedroom. A romantic dinner, a night out beneath the stars. This man will think of it all he'll plan different dates for different occasions for different days and holidays.

You don't even want to know what he does for Valentine's Day or anniversaries... With his connections to clients and his high pay he will take you to jaw dropping fancy places. And like the gentleman he is he'll pay for everything.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He was so busy that he hardly even thinks about it; however since he has you. He's been really struggling. His mind plagued with thoughts about you, and he could feel his pants already straining; he was afraid that you had awakened something inside of him that he thought he had outgrown. What have you done to him?

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

I've said it a few times before so you could already guess that He has some sort of size kink. With a creampie kink, slight breeding, pet play(with you being the pet) and master/servant.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

The bedroom, he will not do it anywhere else. You can try to convince him to do it at his desk.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Wearing something extremely nice, like something as usual clients would wear He will try not to stare. Catching them off guard like a lingerie or discovering that you're wearing nothing underneath your clothing will also turn him on to no end.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He will not, under any circumstances hurt you. Whether it be biting or scratching . You are small compared to him so he fears hurting you too much. Even if you wanted he's extremely hesitant out of fear of losing control of his own strength. He will choke you lightly and he'll be rough with you but anything past that. No

He will also never ever fuck you in a bathroom, outside or in a hollow too dirty!!

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He prefers giving, of course he doesn't mind receiving but, he'd rather be on his knees tasting you, He loves to see you ride and squirm on his time and he loves the taste of you.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Fast and rough when he stressed, However usually it's a good pace and sensual taking his time to feel every bit of you, but fast enough to satisfy you.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

At first he didn't like them, but then after teasing him so much he dragged you into his office to teach you a 'lesson.' with a hang on your mouth and his teeth digging into your shirt, he now sees the appeal of quickie.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He likes when your risky, but he's not the risk taking type. Well there are exceptions.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Lots of stamina, he can last for a few rounds before he begins to tire.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Yes, toys, Toys are that exception of risky. Since you like to be a little horny brat, then you shouldn't mind a vibrator inside you outside as he plays with the buttons

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He only teases when your bad and he has to punish you. Sometimes he teases when he wants to see you beg, But he doesn't do it often He's not cruel.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He's quiet at first, Breaths and growls, he gets louder the longer he fucks you, louder when he's close to cumming, until he cums inside you with a howl.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Lycaon admits, he hesitated when he first had you underneath him; all you were, he didn't want to hurt you. Now he's addicted to the way you take him, your tiny hole stretching around him, struggling to fit.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Big muscular Man, trains frequently at the gym.BIIG VEINY COCK, with a knot, he can't help but feel a little bit of pride at his big size.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

At first it was almost not existent now that it has you he could barely contain it. He tries to control himself so he's constantly in the state of yearning for your touch.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

After finishing he holds you close opens a book and reads until he falls asleep, finger threading through your hair as he gently pets you.

[lxfinty]

┊𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮

xavier thorpe ; wednesday

pairing: jealous!xavier thorpe x bestfriend!fem!reader 

warnings: light hearted, extremely cheesy & overplayed crush confession, miscommunication trope at it’s finest (let’s be honest, xavier is somehow great at both communicating and not talking at all), light swearing

request: n/a

summary:  after telling him that you were asked to the dance at your school in jericho, xavier gets all butthurt.

a/n: I think this takes place after the whole monster situation, but he doesn’t like wednesday. also, don’t ask how wednesday, xavier, and y/n interact/are connected in all of this, idk either...

character credit: wednesday series

w/c: 1.2k

“I don’t even understand why you're being all grumpy right now,” you sigh as you trail behind your bestfriend. 

You’re just leaving the Weathervane café and following Xavier towards the woods, meaning you’re probably heading to his little art shack. Everything was going as it usually does – you guys laughing and catching up over your separate drinks – when he suddenly got really quiet and wanted to leave.

“Can you at least tell me what’s wrong?”

He doesn’t even acknowledge your presence anymore, seeming to be in his own head right now.

You glance at his back, his usually tall stature now hunched in on itself. He keeps running his hand through his hair as it falls in his face, which is when you notice that he’s missing the black hair tie that usually sits on his wrist.

Putting a little pep in your step to get beside him, you hold out your own wrist. Upon it lays a hair tie; the same black type that he usually keeps for himself. You started carrying them after noticing how often he sets them down beside him, only to forget doing so and abandoning them altogether.

He halts his movements before glancing at the band adorning your wrist. He stares at it for a few seconds before his gaze trails up at your face, where he stares at you for a few more. 

You guys are always comfortable around each other, you’ve been friends for a while now, so eye contact is not something you struggle with…but there was something different about the way he is currently looking at you. Like he’s analyzing you. Studying you. Looking past what lays upon your expression and trying to survey your thoughts.

You try to hold his stare, but after a bit your face starts to heat up and the moment feels way too intense, so you divert your gaze to your shoes, the tips almost touching the tips of his own.

You hear the soft sigh fall from his lips before you see his retreating steps. After a few seconds, you fall back in line, trailing behind him once again.

–

After a few more silent minutes, you reach his art studio. He opens the door for you, though still not looking at you directly, before walking in himself. He immediately finds his closest pencil and sketchbook, making little to no sounds as he sits at his desk and begins scribbling away.

You sit on the stool that accompanies a large painting canvas and watch as he frustratingly works the pencil into the paper, smudging lead with his fingers in an unrecognizable design.

After a while, the silence is almost too much to bear.

“Seriously Xavier, what is wrong with you?”

“Everything apparently,” he said abruptly while slamming down his pencil on the multi-color covered table top, “enough to not even be an option anymore.”

You squint at him, completely distraught by his sudden outburst.

“What the actual fuck are you talking about?” 

Completely lost about where this attitude even came from, you run back the conversation you were having back at Weathervane: your wellbeing, school, an upcoming dance, the guy who asked you to said upcoming dance…

Bingo.

“Are you mad about me getting asked to a school dance?” You questioned, a hint of accusation to your voice. 

“Yes, okay! I’m mad you got asked to your little dance at normie school!” Xavier exclaimed, standing up and looking down at you. 

It takes all but two seconds before you're standing as well, mixed emotions of confusion and anger boiling inside you.

“Why would you be fucking upset! If anything you should be happy that your best friend is actually liked by someone for once.” You said in an exasperated tone. Why would your closest friend be upset about you finally getting attention from someone…unless he thinks you don’t deserve it.

“Well I’m not fucking happy.” He says while looking you straight in the eyes before sitting back in his chair, placing his elbows on the table and his head in his hands.

“Why not?” At this point, anything he said would probably end with you in tears, your heart broken, or both.

“Because I wanted to take you,” he says in a soft voice before running both hands through his hair and turning to face you. “Because I want to take you,” he reiterates. 

You gape at him, eyes and lips slightly widened as you find the words to say. 

To be honest, you have had feelings for Xavier for a while. When you first saw him, you thought he was an attractive guy. His long hair compliments his face so well, who wouldn’t? But it wasn’t until you started connecting that your feelings for him truly blossomed. You loved his artsy side, he was always surprising you with drawings and paintings he made of you, alongside ones he made simply to impress you with his “bring drawings to life” ability. He was always there to cheer you up if something was upsetting you at school, and he would constantly call or text you to see how you’re doing.

After all that gaping, the only thing you could think to say was “why would you want to do that?”

He gave a small chuckle-ish sigh before replying, “have I not been obvious, because I swear everyone else could see how much I like you except you.”

Thinking back at it now, yeah the man was super obvious, but that doesn’t mean you actually believe it..

“Seriously, Y/N. I know I’m being super obvious in my flirting tactics, but that’s just because I think you like me back. I mean obviously not if you’re going to a dance with someone else, but I-”

“Who said I’m going with somebody else?” You cut him off mid rant.

“The guy-.”

“If you would’ve actually let me finish my story instead of getting all jealous and gloomy, you would have heard me say that I didn’t even say yes.” You look at him with a slight smirk. “Matter of fact, I don’t think I even like anyone fro-”

“I knew it.”

“From my school. Xavier you seriously need to let a girl finish her storytimes,” you shake your head and softly laugh before looking back up at him.

The smile you’ve come to adore is finally resting upon his face once again.

“So…you want to take me to the dance,” you tease.

“I do,” he says as if it’s a simple fact.

“Are you gonna ask or…? Because I’ve got other options to weigh if this is gonna take all da-.”

He rushes towards you and envelopes you in a hug, though this one feels different than the ones you usually share.

“Would you allow me the great honor of taking you to your normie school dance?” He finishes as he sets you back upright and grazes his thumb over your cheek.

“I would love to go,” you smile up at him, leaning into his touch slightly.

“With me though, right? The other dudes are completely out of the picture?”

“Only with you,” you giggle at his playful antics. “Just you.”

Completely ignoring the story, I am currently obsessed with Xavier Thorpe and my close friends list on Instagram has been suffering with edits for days.

I no longer support Percy Hynes White and will no longer take request for Xavier Thorpe.

[mrsdesade]

What about some Homelander x needy fem reader smut? He made her cry and then he goes soft on her? :)

Say no more anon, here's something for you! It will definitely be something long because I liked the idea so much!

Afterparty;

Pairing: Homelander x fem!super (Ophera as usual) TW: NSFW, mention of drugs, teasing, smut, fluff, aftercare Words count: 2,6k

You and Homelander are attending a night party hosted by Vought, a grand event where the company's high-profile visitors and staff gather to mingle and celebrate.

Was as extravagant as ever, with celebrities, influencers, investors, and a few lucky civilians gathered together in an opulent ballroom. Laughter and music filled the air as people mingled around, engaging in small talk and celebrating.

You've had plenty of conversations, meetings with executives and public appearances with Homelander. By the looks of it, you've both done your part to keep up the public image that Vought has made of you two.

Exausting.

As the night starts slowly to wind down, you find yourselves with a brief moment alone. Homelander looks at you with a mix of tiredness and relief, as if he can finally let his guard down now that you two are out of the spotlight.

"Goddamn, these parties are a pain. I know they're important for the image, but dealing with all those people trying to win my favor… it's starting to wear me down."

He lets out a frustrated huff, his eyes flitting over the crowd around you.

"I swear I could snap the neck of the next person who comes up to me asking for an autograph or a selfie..."

You simply let out a little laugh, but your eyes are wandering around, and your arms are crossed at your stomach, you seem distracted.

Homelander notices the hint of something amiss in your laughter, his sharp senses picking up on the fact that you're not quite comfortable.

"Hey, you alright? You're not your usual self tonight."

''I think I drank too much, I've been feeling strange ever since the party began...but I only drank two glasses of champagne, alcohol usually doesn't cause me problems.''

It's clear that something is wrong, the more he looks at you, the more the signs of your discomfort are visible. Under the beautiful make-up that has been done on you, your cheeks are red, and a few small drops of sweat slide down your temple. Quite strange, since it's December, outside is snowing.

"Two glasses of champagne shouldn't have that kind of effect on you. You're a damn superhero, and a strong one. Are you seriously getting ill from some champagne? I was waiting for a more epic weakness, you know? Something like kryptonite, I don't know."

''If you're here to make fun of me you can go back to the party. Fuck, they must have mixed some kind of drug in my drink. Maybe something that would kill a human has that effect on me. That's the only explanation I have..."

''Someone was stupid enough to drug you? I should find whoever did it and rip their damn head off."

''You're not helping me.''

Your look of disapproval is eloquent, you would like to explain the situation to him better, but you can't do it explicitly. He seems really stupid to you right now. You're holding your chest tight with your arms, your legs are shaking slightly and for the first time you're struggling to stand on your heels.

"What do you want me to do, hold your hand and comfort you? I'm not exactly known for my tender side, you know."

Despite his words, he comes closer to support you with a hands on your back, it seems like you could fall to your knees at any moment.

But immediately he can feel your skin unnaturally warm to the touch. It's at that moment that he starts to notice something unusual, a change in your demeanor. Your breathing is rapid and shallow, and your eyes have a glassy look.

Homelander's eyes widen in realization, as he finally connects the dots.

''...those bastards. They have put an aphrodisiac in your drink.''

''Wow, It took you a while to understand, men never think about these things, I honestly envy you.''

The situation is quite embarrassing for you, but you still manage to want to make fun of him. You have found a stable and comfortable position holding on to his arm, everything seems normal to the people around you, but you know that you will be able to control yourself only for a short time.

He notices the change in your behavior, feeling your hand gripping tighter onto his arm, and the proximity of your body next to his. He clears his throat, trying to maintain his composure.

"Yeah, laugh it up. But you're the one who's struggling to stand still. How the hell did they pull something like this off? I thought Vought security was supposed to prevent something like this from happening."

It's clear that you're not listening to him, you feel the warm from your legs coming up to your throat. You bite your lower lip trying to think as little as possible, but your gaze falls on his hands, causing your mind to drift to absolutely less pure thoughts.

"What are you looking so intently at my hands?''

You lean in a bit closer to him, your playful demeanor turns more tempting, and your voice lowers to a sultry tone, his right hand still holding onto your waist and your running up on his fingers.

''Can't you imagine?''

Homelander tries to maintain his cool demeanor, but he's failing miserably.

Your fingers continue to softly caress his hand, tracing circles on his knuckles, adding to the tension between you two. You take a small step closer, your body now almost pressed against his, and look up at him through your eyelashes, a sly smile on your lips.

"All the things I'm holding myself back from asking you to do to me right now."

His mind suddenly fills with images of what you're hinting at. But he remained silent, faking a smile to the guest who are still walking around the room.

''Come on Homelander, let's get away from this party. I need you. I crave your touch. On me. In me.''

Your lips ghost along his jawline, pressing the promise of a kiss near his ear. You know exactly what to say to convince him, even If your mind is not completely clear, you know what you want and how to get it.

"Please, I'm begging you."

His self-control is about to snap.

''Fine, let's get out of here before I lose my damn mind. Follow my lead and act natural."

He starts guiding you towards the exit, with a certain urgency, casually nodding to guests and saying brief goodbyes as you make your way out of the room.

As you make your way through the crowd, you try your best to act normal and compose yourself, but it's becoming increasingly difficult to keep up the facade. Finally, he finds a secluded corridor and leads you into an empty room, shutting the door behind him.

The moment the door closes, the illusion of control shatters. The tension that have been building up between you two throughout the night reach their peak, and he takes a step forward but you are the first to close the distance and kiss him. Your body wants nothing more than him, the effect of the drug is getting worse and although you haven't said anything, your body language is more than eloquent.

The sight and feel of you, craving for him so openly, is intoxicating.

"God, you're too damn beautiful, Ophera. I've never saw you so messy and needy... only for me.''

''Oh, just for one time, could you just shut up and use your hands for something useful?''

"Eager, aren't we? Don't worry, I'll gladly indulge you.''

He wastes no time in doing as you demand. Your sparkling red dress falls to the floor, but the heat you feel continues to increase, you feel his hands descend on you, and his fierce kisses forbid you to breathe.

He pushes your legs apart with one hand, then he starts caressing you, making you release a sudden moaned whimper. The feel of his leather clad fingers moving so slowly it immediately brings you closer to the edge.

Ridiculous, how is this possible? You think. Ah, yes, that's right, the aphrodisiac, this sensation is like nothing you've ever felt. But it feels so freaking good.

His two fingers slides inside of you, he's enjoying the idea of torturing you. He can feel himself hardening more with every wet sound and moan from you, but driving you insane is going to be way more fun for him than sharing a temporary pleasure.

''...look at you, so needy just for my fucking fingers. You are truly shameless.''

Back against a cold wall, hands on his shoulders, balancing precariously on your heels while your legs tremble and your mind doesn't think clearly, this time he's in control. He's the one in charge.

Time begins to pass. Half an hour, an hour, two, three.

You're whining, you're moaning, and it sounds gorgeous.

What you don't know, is that from the exact moment he saw tears appear in your eyes, he wants to see you cry in his arms. He want to see you desperate for pleasure. You're nearly scream his name.

''You're making such a good show for me, keep going. Keep going...''

He’s enjoying how you’re desperately thrusting against him. Begging him do not stop. Ah yes, sxx between superheroes, durability is the key word to having an extreme fun. Or extreme pleasure. Y'know.

At a certain point you feel his hand move away a little, perhaps his intention was to move on to something more substantial, more thicker. But you immediately block him by grabbing his wrist. Your eyes meet again, and you really are a beautiful mess.

''Don't you dare...to stop...''

''You’ve had thirty orgasms. I'm at zero. How greedy you are.''

Bastard. He’s been keeping count.

''I don't care...touch me again, only one more time. Please...''

Your mind, now overwhelmed by ecstasy, having now the most intense moment of your life. It seems like you can't get enough, and here's his chance to get what he wants. He wants to see you cry.

''Then beg for it.''

His hand that he had leaning against the wall now comes violently wrapped around your neck. Since he can't satisfy himself, he decides that he will have fun in another way. Can't have the pleasure? Then he will have violence. Both are perfect.

Your legs are shaking again and your breath becoming more shallow. You murmur his name in short moans, begging him as he ordered, eyes closed as your makeup slowly begins to run on your cheeks, accompanied by a few small tears.

He is extremely fascinated by you in that moment, you're so lost in pleasure, so desperate for his touch to the point of crying.

''Homelander...''

You cried out as your body finally release, another orgasm coming down hard from your desperate wait. Your body shudders as your walls squeeze tighter around his fingers.

Then he pause, fingers slip out, he stopped for a second looking at you, still lost in the pleasure aftershocks.

Your body is drained of energy, your breathing ragged. You are too tired to speak, the intense moments you’ve experienced leaving you breathless. Your body feels weary and heavy, the afterglow of your passionate encounter still lingering in your core. And then your legs give out, and you stumble, risking falling, but the fact that he is in front of you, saves you.

''Hey-- you feel good? It was too much?''

He asked a bit worried, his arm wrapped securely around you.

A small, weary smile curves your lips, acknowledging his unexpected concern.

''Are you serious? It was...incredible. I assure you I'm fine, more than fine. Just a bit tired.''

He holds you firmly against him, his strong arms encircling your trembling body. He notices your exhaustion and the way your legs give out, nearly toppling over.

''Don't lie to me, tell me If there's something wrong.''

''Dear, I'm being more than sincere right now, do I seem regretful or unsatisfied? I don't think so.''

You laughed, taking him off guards with your spontaneity.

''Well--uhm, yeah okay, good. Now, let's get back to my apartment. The effect of the aphrodisiac has worn off, and soon you will feel cold with only this fancy dress on.''

''Sure...let's get back to the 99 floor.''

You try to move away from him a little, just a little to walk to the door, but you feel the balance missing and you fall back with your hands resting on his shoulders. Your expression is tired but amused, you find funny even a moment like this.

''Where do you think you're going? Come here, you tired diva. You don't have to walk, I'll carry you.''

He lifts you in his arms carrying you as you weigh nothing, and then he let out a short phrase whispered with kindness.

''I'll take care of you.''

He pauses for a moment, realizing the unfamiliar words that just slipped out of his lips. He clears his throat, trying to cover up the unexpected softness in his voice.

Your reaction is one of mild surprise mixed with a hint of amusement. You look at him with a sly smile, raising an eyebrow. Knowing damn well that he's not used to doing such things.

''Oh, what happened to the tough, domineering Homelander? Suddenly, you're acting all caring and loving.''

"Listen, why do you have to be so annoying?"

Homelander rolls his eyes in response to your playful remark. He knows you caught him in a moment of unexpected tenderness.

''Don't get used to it, doll. This is a one-time exception.''

You let out a small, satisfied laugh at his response, knowing you got under his skin again, like usual.

''Oh come on, lighten up. It's quite charming, you know. You playing the concerned and gentle lover.''

''Concerned and gentle lover, that's not really my thing, if you didn't notice.''

He watches you with a hint of skepticism, waiting for your next smart answer.

''So why did you put your cloak around my shoulders when you lifted me up? It was a spontaneous gesture and you didn't even notice it.''

Homelander froze for a moment, caught off guard by your observation. It was true, he had subconsciously done that without even thinking. He lets out a defeated sigh, realizing that you know that he cares, no matter how much he tries to deny it.

''Fine, you win. I didn't like seeing you shivering. And maybe because I…care.''

"Aww, who would have thought? The great Homelander, soft? For me? How unexpected. Maybe I should thank the one who put the drugs in my drink, without his intervention I would never have discovered this side of you.''

You smile warmly, teasingly caressing his hair with your hand while he's walking outside the room, It's now late at night and there's no one one around. Only the silence and the neon lights of the big Vought tower.

You hug him, staying close to him, safe in his arms, enjoying that moment of kindness that you don't know if it will ever return. But for tonight that's fine. You give him a gentle kiss on the cheek and let him carry you to his room.

''Damn you for making me say things like that.''

He whispered, after after gently placing you on the bed, where you will sleep together that night. You sink into the soft bed, a soft smile on your lips. You look up at him in the dim light, waiting for him. That smile will be his downfall, or yours, who knows.

He's secretly pleased by all of your lovely reaction, and he adores you so damn much, but he will never admit it.

-------

Thanks again for the request, it was really entertaining to write, hope you like it! Kisses <3

[zombie-bait]

Full Moon

Ok so I don’t normally post about Helluva Boss but the newest episode touched on an interesting concept I haven’t necessarily seen represented in media. Back when I was on Twitter (derogatory) a few years ago there was this now deleted viral thread where someone discussed how their struggles with mental health affected their relationship with their partner and I haven’t stopped thinking about it since. 

This is such a good, short example of how anxiety and depression can play tricks on you. It becomes so easy to envision yourself as a nuisance, a constant burden to those closest to you because they cannot possibly genuinely enjoy your company, right? But in doing so you create this arbitrarily cruel version of the people you love, people who would otherwise never behave like this outside of your own mind.

It's mean. Because your mind wants to be mean to you under these circumstances. It wants to put everyone else's emotions and desires above yours, both in worthiness and validity. And that starts bleeding into your understanding of other people, especially those you care about.

Now. Helluva Boss.

"Can I get a fucking MINUTE to think after everything you put me through you pompous rich ASSHOLE? Treat me like one of your little butler imps, you can’t just dismiss me like that! I mean, you royal fucks think you can do this every time, like you can just play with our feelings because we’re smaller and not as important. Well I’m not letting you, BITCH! Let’s go!" - Blitz

I find it really interesting how Helluva Boss decided to approach this conflict between Stolas and Blitz. Obviously, the difference in power matters. It's the underlying tension of their entire relationship and their lives. Stolas is burdened by the mountain of expectations thrust upon him from a very young age while Blitz is constantly reminded that he can NEVER be part of that world, that he is "smaller and not as important" not just in Hell's hierarchy but in his own life and family. Stolas very literally has power over Blitz (through the grimoire, the arrangement, his position in society) and Blitz uses their relationship as an excuse to reverse those roles. But that power dynamic, in one form or another, never truly goes away. And for Blitz, it's a lot easier to paint Stolas as this manipulative symbol of power and himself as nothing more than Stolas' plaything. It's easier to be angry than to be vulnerable and accept that someone might care about him.

"Dismiss" is the keyword in that quote. All that Blitz has been able to process is that Stolas has decided to end the relationship that they have. He feels ls like a choice has been taken away from him so he lashes out because he's not ready to emotionally tackle what the rest of Stolas' offer might entail. If Stolas hates him, just wants to play with him, then he is justified in his anger, his self-destruction, his isolation. If the world is mean, you're "allowed" to be mean back.

But

In that moment he forgets that Stolas is someone he actually cares about. Someone he's known for way too long and clearly wants to keep in his life, no matter how reluctant he can be to admit it. Someone who is not innately cruel or manipulative but sad and desperate for connections in a lot of the same ways that Blitz is. And Blitz immediately sees that he's miscalculated something.

Somewhere along the way the fictional version of Stolas that he's allowed himself to be mad at and the real one that he's not ready to admit he cares about have merged into something real that he has actual power over. Stolas can get hurt and Blitz can be the one who does it. He has once again allowed his greatest fears (which Stolas so frequently symbolizes) to co-opt his loved ones, to give him an "out" even though he didn't actually want one in the first place.

I'm definitely not the first person to say this but I think this is an example of the miscommunication trope done right. Their individual struggles are what cause them to be unable to connect during this conversation or to even have a proper conversation in the first place. There is no convenient misunderstanding or third party fabricating this rift. Both of them have preconceived ideas of what the other one is thinking but those ideas are flawed and rooted in self-hatred. They also both shutdown in their unique ways when the conversation starts heading in the direction they'd feared it would.

Blitz and Stolas work because they're both fucked up in similar ways, because they want similar things. That's the same reason why they're uniquely designed to hurt one another. A fear of rejection and a yearning for happiness. To borrow a quote that has been used by literally everyone from Spiderman to Evangelical preachers, "hurt people hurt people."

anyway, I really liked this episode.

(twitter thread screenshots sourced from this reddit post)

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for "using" a cucumber and putting it back in the fridge?

(🥒👌 to find later)

Please, I know it sounds nuts but hear me out. I feel awful and I need to know just how bad this is. Also, I intentionally left as much as possible vague as I am a minor and I do not want this to get removed for being too explicit. But the story will not make sense if I don't include certain things, please understand.

So I (16M) grew up in and currently still live in the bible belt, with extremely conservative evangelical parents. As a taste of what it's like, we have church 3 times a week, and church camp every summer. We are only allowed to access Netflix through a stupid content filter app and we can only use a restricted smart phone that is regularly checked at random by our parents. We get an hour and a half of computer usage every other day, and the internet on the computer is heavily filtered also. The only reason I have access to Tumblr and am able to post this now is because my best friend's older brother gave me his old android for my birthday a few years ago. His family is much more open minded, and I'm very close with them. I also think they have always felt a little bad for me with my family being the way they are.

I'm also gay. Obviously, my family does not know, and I intend to keep it that way. I won't go too deep into it, but it will suffice to say I struggled a lot when I was younger over this. The good thing is that in the last few years, I've been able to accept myself more and come to terms with what my own feelings about religion and faith really are. I came out to my best friend and his brother a little over a year ago, and they've been very supportive. I have yet to tell any of my other friends.

Recently, I've been trying out alcohol since my friends found a hookup. Something I have discovered is that I tend to get lewd feelings when I drink, which has nearly caused a few embarrassing moments around friends. Coincidentally, I have also been experimenting with... certain things. Being a minor, I obviously can't enter any of the adult stores around me, nor would I feel comfortable asking any of my friends to drive me there if I could. I also can't order anything online because my bank account is connected to my parents, and I don't have a shipping address I'm comfortable using for those items either. So instead, I use household objects that belong to me and can be sanitized easily. You might see where this is going.

Yesterday evening, I came home from best friend's house with a full bottle of wine in my backpack. We and a few other friends had already been sipping on a few beers that afternoon, and I still felt a little buzzed. After my family went to sleep, despite already having a little alcohol in my system, I proceeded to get wasted on this bottle of wine in my room. I don't have the clearest memory of all of this, but at some point, I got hungry and lewd-feeling. Went into the kitchen and, through some kind of thought process I can only imagine now, came back into my room with a cucumber. From the title of the post, you can hazard a guess as to what happened to this cucumber. Once I was done, I drukedly and quickly washed it in the bathroom sink and threw it back into the fridge. I went to sleep.

I started freaking out as soon as I woke up this morning. There were four cucumbers in the fridge, I was pretty positive at least two were going to be used for dinner tonight, and I had no idea which cucumber I did the deed with. To make matters worse, my mom was inviting the pastor of our church and his family over for dinner. I have practically no money currently, no license or vehicle, and no friends with vehicles free to pick up new cucumbers for me (and no reasonable explanation as to why I needed them to spot me for four cucumbers specifically). I also have no believable reason to give for why we shouldn't have cucumbers added in the salad mix. My mom knows I love them, and they haven't gone bad. Can't say I ate them because who the hell eats four raw cucumbers? And she'll interrogate both my brother and I until she gets a satisfying answer if I just throw them out. I didn't know what the hell to do about this and I was close to having a panic attack, so... I took a nap.

Evening came. Guests came over, dinner happened. We had porkchops with macaroni and side salads. Cucumbers were in the salad, and I along with pastor's family and my own, ate it like nothing was wrong. My parents, the pastor and his wife had an engaging conversation about politics, religion, and some mild church gossip after dinner. My little brother continued to read his book, and I had a very awkward and one-sided conversation about Young Sheldon with the pastor's daughter. Then they left. And I went to my room to mentally implode.

To say I'm horrified is a major understatement. I don't think anyone is going to get sick because I scrubbed all of the cucumbers with soap multiple times and cleaned the vegetable drawer with bleach when I woke up this morning. I guess I also don't know that the violated cucumber was one of the ones that was used for dinner tonight, but then it's only a matter of days until we have salad again, or if mom cuts one up for water. I've rattled my brain for any way I could get some new cucumbers without telling anyone the details of the event, but I have nothing. Don't even have the money, anyway. Gave up the last bit of cash I had for the damn wine yesterday, and I have $0.43 in total on my debit card.

Admittedly, there is a very small part of me that doesn't even really care if they have eaten or end up eating the damn thing. I can't stand my family. My parents are invasive, controlling and neurotic, and don't give a shit about how I'm doing in so far as it pertains to god and the church. I'm a little more sympathetic to my brother as he's been stuck in this hell with me, but at 13 he's already begun to regurgitate way more religious dogma than I ever did at his age. And I know for a fact that they would want nothing to do with me if they found out I was gay. They'd probably kick me out on the street and spit on me if I had to guess. But even still, this is only a small part of how I feel. What I did was still so gross, and no amount of animosity I have for them can change how mortifed I am. I do have at least a semblance of a conscience.

So...AITA for all of this? WIBTA if I did nothing about the other two cucumbers? Please help.

[astrophileous]

The Monday Pursuit

Pairing: Derek Morgan x Female Reader

Synopsis: The three times Derek tries to find out your name, and the one time he finally gets it. Or, the story of four different Mondays that Derek spends on the pursuit of your name.

Warning(s): shy!reader, cursing, public confrontation (verbal and physical) with a douchebag, verbal and physical threats, talks of killing someone, name-calling, protective derek, a bit of damsel in distress situation, and that's it really. this is just tooth-rotting fluff 💞

Word Count: 4300-ish

Author's Note: I FINALLY POSTED A DEREK ONE SHOT! YAY! I was toying around with the idea of making this a series of connected one shots, each one focusing on the significance of a particular day (tuesday, wednesday, thursday, etc) in the progress of your relationship. does that sound like something you guys would be interested in? tell me what you think! plsss!!! don't forget to leave a LIKE+COMMENT+REBLOG

Criminal Minds Masterlist

Derek noticed you on a Monday.

He couldn't count how many times his eyes had swept over you absentmindedly in the past few weeks. None of them ever lasted long enough for him to linger around, but somehow, this particular Monday was different.

It was different because the moment Derek's gaze drifted towards the direction where he would usually find you, he finally noticed that you were gone.

It was ironic in a way, how he only noticed you in the wake of your absence. But somewhere in the ruckus that his favorite coffee shop would whirl into every morning, Derek had begun associating the table in the corner of that place with you.

Even then, when someone else was occupying the seat at the end of his long stare, Derek could picture the scene in his head: your laptop on the table, a cup of steaming hot coffee in your hand, and a serious but adorable crease on the center of your forehead. Those three things stood out from the rest. Perhaps if he had the same eidietic ability as Spender Reid, Derek could list more details about your habits and person. Nonetheless, somewhere in his subsconscious, Derek's memories must have deemed you important enough to keep, and that was all it took for him to wonder what about you was so goddamn special.

His fog of reverie was soon broken by an interrupting voice, "She's out of town."

Derek turned his head to see one of the barristas giving him a sly smile. "Excuse me?"

"The writer. She's out of town."

"Writer?" Derek didn't know that. "She's a writer?"

"On the side. She's in grad school," the barrista said. "She has two books out and another one pending publication. She's in New York right now for a book signing."

The word impressive promptly filled Derek's mind, and judging by the barrista's expression, it seemed that the word had translated unmistakably on his face, too.

"You know, you shouldn't give out someone's information to random people like that," Derek warned.

"I don't usually, but I thought, since you're FBI..."

The surprise in Derek's eyes couldn't be more palpable. "How'd you know?"

"Dude, you've been around a while." The barrista shrugged. "Besides, I don't think she would mind."

Derek frowned.

"She likes you," the barrista revealed once they saw the confusion settling on Derek's face.

"What?"

"She's got a bad crush on you, didn't you know?"

"Uh, no?"

"Huh." The barrista put down the cup containing Derek's order on the counter. "I thought you knew. She was so obvious. I mean, I'm not sure how she hasn't burned through the back of your skull with how hard she always stares."

Flabbergasted couldn't even begin to describe what Derek was feeling. His curious eyes flicked momentarily towards your table before he addressed the barrista again, "She's a friend of yours?"

"Hell yeah, she is." The barrista smiled. "That's why I know she's got it bad for you."

Being admired wasn't exactly something new for Derek, so he struggled to comprehend why the thought of you crushing on him had triggered a wave of heat to travel up and down his body.

"What's her name?" Derek asked, trying to sound casual and nonchalant as he picked up his cup of coffee.

The barrista grinned smugly. "I thought you told me not to give someone's information to a random person like that?"

With that said, the barrista went to attend to another customer, leaving Derek to curse over his excellent ability to dig up his own hole.

You were back in town the following week.

When Derek walked into the coffee shop the next Monday, he immediately found you huddled up in your usual seat. For one split second, Derek saw you looking up from your laptop, your eyes locking with his from across the room. But before he could offer a smile, you averted your gaze as if you couldn't wait to get away from him.

That thought didn't conjure well in Derek's mind.

Derek proceeded to give his usual order and waited by the counter. However, when he saw a plate of blueberry muffin being placed next to his cup to go, Derek glimpsed up in confusion at the awaiting smirk on your friend's--the barrista's--face.

"I didn't order this."

"No, you didn't. But do you know whose favorite dessert it is?"

Derek casted a glance towards your direction.

"Exactly." The barrista grinned wider. "Now, go. It's on the house."

The loud drumming inside Derek's chest should have been laughable.

He was never like this. Derek was always self-assured, especially when it came to flirting and courting, so there really was no reason for him to be feeling like this. But something about you had spiked the rhytmic beating in his chest, and Derek didn't like being out of his element when there was a pretty girl at stake.

Thus, with an ease born out of years of practice, Derek worked to turn on his good ol' charm. The same one that dripped from his footsteps as he sauntered over your table with his coffee in one hand and one special plate of blueberry muffin in the other.

Deer caught in headlights; that was exactly the perfect description to visualize how you looked when Derek finally placed the muffin on the table. The man smirked triumphantly at the knowledge that he affected you just as much as you affected him.

"Hey," Derek greeted almost complacently. "I heard this is your favorite."

"What? I don't.... how did you..."

You stopped speaking altogether, sending a grimace to the direction of the counter--where your friend was working--when you deduced what could probably have transpired

"I missed you last week," Derek added.

If you were abashed before, then you must have been mortified when those words slipped out of Derek's lips. You looked up at him with a gaping mouth, and Derek would have laughed at how precious you looked if he didn't have compassion for your poor nerves.

"I was out of town," you eventually managed to say.

"I heard. A writer, right? You had a book signing." Derek smiled. "That's impressive. Anything of yours I might know?"

Your face contorted after hearing his question. "I doubt it. I'm not big at all."

"I don't know. Book signing in New York? Sounds pretty big to me."

"Not as much as you would expect, to be honest."

Derek didn't know why, but he despised the sound of you downplaying your own accomplishments as if they weren't worthy of being praised. He swore he would assist in changing that tendency if given the chance.

"My name is Derek. Derek Morgan."

"I know."

Derek raised a curious eyebrow.

You cowered shyly when you realized what you had admitted. "I heard you mention it a while ago, when you were ordering."

"And you remember?"

Your bashful expression nearly compelled Derek to cheer out loud.

"Do you need something?" you finally asked, not at all mean or bitter, more timid than anything else.

"Yes. I was wondering if I could ask for your name."

"My name?

Derek nodded. "Well, you see, I wanted to ask for your number, but I figured since I still don't have your name yet, then maybe I should get around to it first."

You bit your bottom lip, seemingly in deep thought as you assessed Derek with soft eyes.

"My name is--"

Just as the answer was dangling on the tip of your tongue, Derek's phone suddenly started to ring. He internally cursed his life for its partiality to bad timings, holding up an apologetic finger as he accepted the call without looking at the caller ID.

"Hello?"

"Hey, beefcake, where are you?" Penelope Garcia asked from the other end of the line. "Hotch just told everyone to be up and running in 30."

"What? I thought the briefing starts in 30."

"He's debriefing on the plane. Another body just turned up."

"Shit. Shit. Okay, fine, I'll be there."

Derek ended the call in the next second, panic clouding his mind to the point that he failed to realize he didn't bid his usual farewell to his favorite tech analyst. In front of him, you were staring with a pair of expectant eyes that made Derek wish he could stop time to spend it by your side. Alas, such power only existed in fantasy, and Derek--frankly--didn't have enough time at hand to pay grievance over that fact.

"I'm sorry."

Your face fell at Derek's apology, even if slightly.

"God, this sucks. I wish I could stay. I haven't even--"

"Derek, it's okay," you cut him off. "Just go."

"But you didn't--"

"Derek." Your hand on the table slid forward, as though wanting to reach out to him but stopped shortly before you did. "I'm always here."

It was such a simple statement. Three small words that carried hardly any weight on their own whatsoever. But strung together, Derek knew exactly what you meant, the real meaning behind the sentence you chose to say.

You can go. It's okay. We'll continue this some other time.

Reeling from your generous understanding, Derek rushed a goodbye before sprinting towards the door. But just as he was about to touch its handle, he span around for one last look, calling out a sentence that he had pocketed safely as a promise.

"I'll see you soon."

Since Derek's last encounter with you at the coffee shop, the BAU had been thrown from one case to another in the span of two weeks, during which Derek seemed to struggle eliminating the thought of you from the depth of his mind.

When a new Monday rolled around, Derek found himself whistling to a favorite tune as he took the morning route towards the coffee shop. The day was a gloomy one, gray and cloudy with a high chance of rain, contrasting entirely with the sunshine inside Derek's chest. In a few minutes, he would finally see you again, and Derek couldn't wait to woo you into agreeing on a date with him as his palm pressed on the door of the coffee shop.

Unfortunately, Derek's movements ceased the moment he stepped into the familiar establishment.

The atmosphere in the coffee shop struck no resemblance to what Derek had associated with the place: warm, safe, and welcoming. Instead, the taste of tension was hot on his tongue, sizzling under the thick silence that had rendered the entire room into a standstill.

In the middle of it all, just a few paces from where the front door stood, Derek had found you.

You were standing with your head down, which wasn't a strange sight considering that you often did that to avoid unwanted attention. But Derek never saw your lips quiver that way before, nor did he ever see your eyes blown so out of proportion in a telltale sign of fright.

Upon a further inspection of the room, Derek realized that he wasn't the only one whose eyes were trained on you. Every patron in the shop, including every worker behind the counter, was staring openly in your direction as well. He was a milisecond away from taking another step when the man in front of you started to scream out of the blue.

"Why aren't you saying anything? Are you fucking stupid?!"

The malicious words didn't sit well with the vituous bone in Derek's body. But it was seeing you flinch from the verbal onslaught that finally made Derek dash forward, putting himself as a shield between you and the insolent stranger.

"That's enough," Derek said as he tugged you behind his back.

The stranger looked up at Derek with an ugly scowl on his face. "Who the hell are you?!"

"If you have a problem, let's take this outsi--"

"I don't have a problem with you, dickhead. I have a problem with her!" Derek extended to his full height instinctively, trying to hide you from the brazen man. "Now, move. This is none of your fucking business!"

"It became my business the second you chose to disrupt everyone's morning," Derek countered. "Why don't you tell me what's going on here?"

"Why don't you ask your bitch, huh? She fucking started all of this."

"Fucking bastard."

Red clouded Derek's vision when he clenched the man's collar in his hand. All around him, the crowd erupted in a chorus of gasps. Satisfaction filled Derek's chest when he glimpsed the hint of fear in the man's eyes.

"I dare you to say one more word about her," Derek seethed. "I dare you."

"Derek." He felt your fingers then, twisting around a portion of his shirt, pulling desperately until Derek loosened his grip on the other man. "Please."

The douchebag stumbled dramatically when Derek finally discarded him to the side.

Derek span around, looking directly into your eyes for the first time that morning. "Are you alright, sweetheart?"

Instead of answering his question, you pushed past a frowning Derek, addressing the horrible man whose face was now crimson; either from rage or embarrassment, Derek didn't know. He didn't care.

"I'm sorry, sir." Your voice vibrated in the air. It wavered with a clear sign of tears. "I didn't... I wasn't thinking. I've caused you trouble. I'm sorry. And I apologize to everyone for ruining your day."

With that, you turned around and picked up your belongings that were scattered on the floor before dashing straight out of the door. Derek stared at your back until it disappeared from view.

"You better tell me what the fuck happened here," Derek fumed towards the man.

"You heard her. She fucked up, that's what happened."

"That's not true." A new voice arose. Derek turned his head to see your barrista friend standing behind the counter, their eyes flaming with anger.

"The poor girl spilled her coffee," another voice interjected. It belonged to an old lady who was standing at the very front of the line. "She didn't mean to, but it got all over his things. Then he just started screaming all kinds of stuff to her."

Derek closed his eyes before reopening them again, shooting daggers towards the man. "You're pulling this crap over a spilled fucking coffee?!"

The other man began to stutter. "She ruined important documents!"

"It wasn't even her fault," the barrista added. "He was too busy being on his phone to watch where he was going."

That last piece of information was the last straw for Derek.

He used his forearm to push the douchebag by the throat, slamming his back against the wall until the man gasped for air.

"You will never step foot in here again, do you hear me?" Derek pressed his elbow deeper into the man, stopping only when he started to nod frantically. "You don't come near this place, ever again. But most importantly, you don't come near her. I'm gonna fucking kill you if you do."

Derek let him go afterwards, ignoring the series of coughs that the man had fallen into while he marched towards the door.

"Don't even think for a minute that I'm gonna let this go!" the man shouted just as Derek was about to exit the coffee shop. "I'll be notifying the authorities about what happened here today. You'll see!"

The scoff Derek let out couldn't be more condescending. "Yeah, you do that. And when you do, tell them--" Derek reached into his pocket, pulling out his credentials before flashing it towards the man, "--the name's Agent Derek Morgan. FBI."

He slammed the door behind him.

Once outside, Derek's eyes darted around to find any trace of you in the midst of the morning rush hour. Eventually, he spotted the back of your head, walking away about a few feet ahead of him. Derek broke into a sprint almost immediately, squeezing himself in between the ocean of people, trying to catch up with you before realizing that he most like wouldn't be able to.

Just as he watched you turning a corner, Derek mourned the fact that he couldn't call out to you because he still didn't know your name.

It was the second Monday that Derek didn't see you anywhere in, or near, the coffee shop.

In total, it had been two whole weeks without you showing your face at the place, not even once. Your barrista friend was as clueless about your whereabouts as Derek was. He even had started coming into the shop at odd hours during the day, or whenever his schedule would allow him to, sometimes lingering for a few minutes in the morning just in case he would catch you walking through those doors.

You never did.

In a moment fueled by something akin to desperation, Derek found himself marching towards the office of Penelope Garcia. If there was anyone who could find you--who you were, where you were, and everything else about you--it was going to be the team's tech genius.

The tech analyst wasn't in the room when Derek entered, and as he found himself standing there--alone in the silence--Derek was confronted by how ridiculous he was being.

He couldn't understand why he was acting like this. Why the thought of never seeing you again managed to lure him into considering a breach of privacy. Derek had barely even talked to you, yet whatever brief interaction the two of you had so far was enough to affect him in ways that shouldn't be possible.

Derek decided to turn around and vacant the room before anyone could catch him lingering there like an idiot, but his steps fell short when he saw Penelope standing in the doorway.

"What are you doing here, Sugar?" Penelope questioned, her eyes squinting into a suspicion-filled look.

"Looking for you, of course," Derek lied.

"Derek Morgan, I didn't spend years working with the best profilers in the country to not be able to tell when someone is lying." Penelope walked towards her chair, making sure that she was settled comfortably before swiveling around to face Derek again. "Talk to me."

"Babygirl, there's nothing to talk about."

"Oh my God. It's about a girl."

How the fuck does she do that?

"Derek, you tell me right now every single thing about this lovely creature who has captured your heart, and I meant every single thing. What's her name? What does she do? Where did you guys meet? You guys are official, right? Because if not, then--"

"Okay, Blondie, pump your brakes," Derek interfered before Penelope could vomit the entire content of the Oxford dictionary. "There's no girl."

Penelope frowned. "There isn't?"

"No."

"But you want it to be?"

Derek couldn't give her an answer.

"Mister, you tell me what's going on right now, and don't leave out any details."

So, that was exactly what Derek ended up doing.

He told Penelope about you; about the little snippets of yourself that had infiltrated Derek's subsconscious without him even realizing it, about your first proper interraction where your smile looked more appetizing than the blueberry muffin he had put on the table, and about the incident that marked his last ever encounter with you.

By the time he wrapped the story up, Penelope's face was a heap of reactions.

"You know," the tech analyst finally said, "I can probably find her for you."

"I told you I don't want that, Sweetness."

"But why?!" Penelope nearly whined. "You like her, and her friend said she obviously likes you, too. What if you never see her again? Are you seriously just going to let your story end in what ifs?"

"Of course, I don't want that. But this is not how I want our story to start, too, if there is even gonna be one." Derek gripped Penelope's shoulder, squeezing affectionately. "Thanks for the offer, Babygirl, but maybe it just wasn't meant to be."

For the rest of that day, Derek threw himself into work in order to keep his head preoccupied with something else other than the images of you.

In a few hours, he had successfully completed all of the pending case reports that were piling on his desk. A quick glance at the clock told Derek that he still had another three hours before he was supposed to go home. Sighing, Derek got up from his desk and walked towards the pantry.

"It's been four hours," Derek heard Emily say as soon as he walked towards the kitchenette. "What are they doing there?"

"She could be a reporter. Maybe she's interviewing him," Spencer theorized.

"Who's interviewing who?" Derek asked.

He headed for the coffee maker only to realize that there was no coffee left. Derek cursed under his breath before he went to make a fresh batch.

"Rossi has a guest, and they've been in his office for four hours," Spencer explained.

Derek raised an eyebrow. "Really? I didn't see anyone."

"She came in during lunch."

"Huh. A woman?"

Spencer nodded.

"Potential lover?" Derek asked again.

"I don't think so. She's young."

"Unless, he's that kind of guy." Emily smirked.

Spencer frowned. "What kind of guy?"

"I don't think Rossi's like that." Derek chuckled.

"Who is she, then?" Emily questioned.

"Is no one going to tell me what kind of guy Rossi is?" Spencer suddenly said.

"A student, perhaps? A fan? Who knows?" Derek shrugged. "Or maybe you were right. She's here to interview him."

"Oh! Here they come!" Emily exclaimed a few minutes later.

Derek turned to steal a glance at the guest that had captured his fellow teammates' interest. But just as he was about to catch a glimpse of her, Derek suddenly spilled hot coffee everywhere, flooding nearly half the counter until some of it dripped down the cabinets as well.

"Shit." Derek stared at the mess he had made in annoyance. "Fuck me."

"She's really pretty, though," Emily pointed out--no doubt about Rossi's guest--earning an agreeing hum from Spencer.

After he had cleaned up the spilled coffee, Derek ambled back towards the direction of his desk. As he was passing the glass doors to the bullpen, however, Derek saw Rossi standing in front of the elevator, waving towards the person who had just walked inside of it.

Someone who--as Derek realized with a particularly loud thump in his chest--turned out to be you.

Derek was barely able to place the steaming cup of coffee on a random desk before he made a run for the elevator. But just as he reached Rossi's side, the elevator's doors had closed, making you vanish once more from Derek's sight.

"Shit," Derek muttered. "Shit. Shit. Shit."

Beside him, Rossi was staring in open confusion. "Morgan?"

Derek finally turned towards the older man. "The girl who was in the elevator. Who is she?"

Rossi's forehead creased. "Why?"

"Do you know her?"

"She's a fellow crime writer. She was here for a consultation," Rossi answered. "Are you gonna tell me what's going on?"

"Her name. What's her name?"

"What the hell is going on, Morgan?"

"Rossi, come on, man," Derek sounded desperate, but he didn't care. "I just need her name."

Derek barely succeeded in mumbling a quick thank you to Rossi for giving him your name before he rushed straight to the emergency stairs. The entire run down to the lobby was a blur in Derek's eyes. The only focus in his mind was about getting to you.

Once he was outside of the headquarters building, Derek saw you walking a few paces ahead of him in the direction of the parking lot. He shouted your name with all of his might, seeing you stop and turn your body around from the distance, and soon enough, he had managed to close it in a matter of seconds.

Derek was a mess of panting breaths and drumming heartbeats when he finally stood in front of you. The look you gave him spoke of surprise and bewilderment, and Derek relished in the feeling of being at the receiving end of your lovely gaze.

"Derek? What? What are you--"

"I work with Rossi," Derek stated simply.

Your eyebrows escalated in surprise. "You do?"

"Yeah. I saw you earlier with him," Derek continued. "I haven't seen you in awhile."

For the first time in what felt like forever, Derek allowed his eyes to roam over your entire person, from the top of your head to the tip your toes. There was no malice in his stare as he did, just appreciation, and maybe a little bit of longing from not having seen you in such a long time.

"I haven't been to the coffee shop again. Not after--" you swallowed the lump in your throat. "I was embarrassed. I'm so sorry."

"You have nothing to be sorry for, sweetheart."

"You got dragged into my mess. I owe you an apology."

"You owe me nothing. Okay? What happened wasn't your fault. That man was just an asshole," Derek told you truthfully. "You don't have to be worried about him anymore. He's never coming back."

His last statement caused you to lift your head up so fast, Derek was scared you were going to have a whiplash.

"Nothing happened, sweetheart," he elaborated once he saw the panic in your eyes. "I just made sure to let him know that he wasn't welcome there anymore."

The breath you let out sounded eerily similar with relief.

"Thank you, Derek. For everything," you offered shyly. "Please tell me if there's anything I could do to make it up to you."

That last sentence you uttered prompted a wide grin across Derek's face. "Actually, there may be something."

Derek took a step closer towards you then, noting the way your shoulders tensed up from his proximity. His own senses were overcome by everything about you; from the slight parting of your lips, the steady rise and fall of your chest that seemed to be growing more rapid in Derek's presence, and to the sweet plus addictive smell of your perfume.

Taking his own deep breath, Derek forced the words--the same ones that he had been keeping deep inside of him--to tumble freely into the air.

"Would you like to go on a date with me?"

[thepunchingbag]

I am such a sucker for Astarion x Karlach due to multiple reasons and I am going to list a few here:

Their stories are extremely similar in terms of being forced into servitude and their bodily autonomy being fucked with, their bodies being used as objects (Karlach's body being turned into an Infernal weapon, Astarion's being turned into an Infernal ritual component and as bait for victims).

They both value freedom to an incredible degree (understandably) - Karlach seems to abandon herself in the moment while Astarion is immediately afraid this freedom will slip through his fingers.

Effeminate man with macho woman. Hot and cold. Posh and working-class. Black cat and golden retriever.

Even if they romance other people, there is an undeniable warmth between the two of them. They're going to be friends regardless.

Astarion's response when Karlach falls in battle "Karlach! You can't die - I won't let you die!" He sounds like he's WEEPING, Neil Newbon really delivers the "his heart is breaking and he's panicking" perfectly.

Her pet name for him is "leech".... just... fuckin' hell, Karlach. I love her.

They call each other "darling" unironically when romanced.

However, I definitely think Astarion can be very hurtful towards her, and his comments come from a place of vulnerability. There is SO much subtext to their relationship, and the devnotes really shows that. She offers a chance to take things slow, to remove sex from the early stages of the relationship, and he desperately wants that. He has no idea how to navigate this type of relationship, and he lashes out. I also love Karlach can push him right back ("Want to try that again without being a jackass?"/"Enough. You can't talk to me like that."). The fact he apologizes and admits he enjoys just talking with her. I dunno, like other people have said, it feels healing...

They also compliment each other's struggles since Astarion literally cannot touch her, so his usual seduction routine falls flat. Karlach is touch-starved but it's a rewarding alternative to take things slow, that she can feel a genuine connection. She's spent a decade in the Hells where genuine connections like friendships and romance are essentially a death sentence - you can never let your guard down - and now she finally can. Like, they both basically have to learn how to take things slow.

[natsaffection]

Wait and Hope. Pt 2 | N.R

Warnings: gun shots, blood, gore 'traumatized' children, just angst

Word Count: 9,8k

A/n: Okay, it's a lot..The Request you can find here.

The first few weeks after Lila, Jacob, and Mia moved in were an emotional whirlwind. Mia adapted quickly, her boundless energy and cheerful nature filling the house with light. She often clung to you and Natasha, seeking your warmth and affection, while Jacob remained quieter, but slowly began to open up. But Lila..Lila was different. You and Natasha had expected some challenges. Lila was, after all, fifteen and had been through more than any teenager should. But as the days turned into weeks, it became clear that Lila's walls were still firmly in place, and she wasn't ready to tear them down anytime soon.

Natasha, who had taken on the role of disciplinarian, had set clear boundaries from the start. She was strict but fair, and the kids quickly learned that pushing those boundaries or talking back wouldn't get them very far. Lila start to respect Natasha, yet there was still a certain distance, an unspoken agreement that Natasha wouldn't push too hard as long as Lila didn't push back. But you..you were also different. You were the heart of the family, always warm, always understanding, always trying to reach Lila with kindness and patience. And that's where the problems began. Lila wasn't ready for that kind of affection, not from someone she still saw as a stranger, and her rejection often manifested in anger. It had been a long day, filled with the usual ups and downs of settling into a new routine.

Natasha had just returned from work and found you in the kitchen, preparing dinner. The tension in the air was palpable, and Natasha could sense that something was wrong. "What happened?" Natasha asked gently, stepping beside you and placing a hand on your back. You sighed, your shoulders sagging slightly. "Lila and I had another argument.." you admitted, your voice tinged with frustration and sadness. "She shut me out again, and when I tried to talk to her about it, she just..exploded." Natasha frowned, her protective instincts kicking in. "What did she say?"

You hesitated, clearly reluctant to relive the exchange. "She told me to stop pretending I care, that I'm not her real mother, and that I don't understand anything she's been through." you said quietly, your voice cracking slightly. Natasha's heart ached for you, knowing how hard you had been trying to connect with Lila. She wrapped her arms around you, pulling you into a comforting embrace. "I'm sorry, Detka.." Natasha murmured, her voice filled with empathy. "Lila's hurting, and she's taking it out on you because she doesn't know how else to cope."

"I know." you whispered as you leaned into Natasha's embrace. "But it's so hard, Nat. I just want her to see that we love her and that we're here for her. But no matter what I do, it feels like I can't get through to her." Natasha tightened her embrace, her heart breaking for the woman she loved. "You're doing everything right." she said gently. "It's just going to take time. Lila's been through a lot, and she's scared. She's not used to people being kind to her without expecting something in return."

You nodded as you tried to hold back your tears. "I'm so proud that the kids are bonding with you, especially since you were the one who was most worried about it. But..I can't help feeling like I'm failing somehow." Natasha pulled back slightly, cupping your face in her hands and looking into your eyes with unwavering love. "You're not failing." she said firmly. "You're the heart of this family, Y/n. The kids are struggling right now, but they will open up. And when they do, it will be because you never stopped believing in them."

You sniffled, a small, sad smile tugging at your lips. "I hope so." you whispered. "I really hope so." At that moment, you both heard a door slam upstairs, followed by the sound of quick, stomping footsteps in the hallway. Natasha sighed, knowing that Lila was in one of her moods again. She pressed a quick kiss to your forehead. "I'll go talk to her." Natasha said gently. "You can finish up here, okay?" You nodded, grateful for Natasha's support. "Thank you." you whispered. Natasha gave you a reassuring smile before heading upstairs. She found Lila in her room, sitting on her bed with her arms crossed, her expression set in a defiant scowl. “Hey..” Natasha said, her voice calm but firm. “We need to talk.” Lila looked up, her eyes flashing with anger. “What?” she snapped. “What now?”

Natasha wasn’t fazed by Lila’s hostility. “You need to stop taking your anger out on Y/n.” she said, her tone measured. “I know you’re going through a lot, and I know you’re hurting, but she is trying to help you. She doesn’t deserve to be treated like this.” Lila’s expression faltered for a moment, a fleeting look of guilt crossing her face before it hardened again. “I didn’t ask for her help.” Lila muttered, her voice full of bitterness. “I didn’t ask for any of this.”

“I know.” Natasha responded, her voice softening. “But this is your reality now. We are your family, and we’re here for you, whether you like it or not. Y/n cares about you, and she’s trying so hard to make this work. You need to meet her halfway.” Lila looked away, her jaw clenched tightly. “I don’t need a new family.” she mumbled, her voice barely audible.

Natasha sighed, feeling the weight of Lila’s pain. “Maybe not.” she said quietly. “But that doesn’t change the fact that you have one now. And part of that family is Y/n. She’s not trying to replace anyone in your life, she just wants to be there for you.” Lila didn’t respond, but Natasha could see the inner conflict in her eyes. She was struggling, torn between her fear of being hurt again and her deep, unspoken desire for closeness.

“I’m not asking you to change overnight.” Natasha continued, her voice gentle. “But I’m asking you to try. Give her a chance. She’s not going away, and neither am I.” Lila’s shoulders slumped slightly, the fight gradually leaving her. She said nothing, but Natasha knew the message had been received. It would take time, but Natasha was willing to wait, to keep pushing until Lila was ready to let them in.

“Okay.” Natasha said softly as she slowly moved toward the door. “Take some time to cool off. We’ll talk later.” She left Lila’s room, her heart heavy from the weight of the conversation. She knew this wasn’t the end of the struggle, but she hoped it was a step in the right direction.

When Natasha returned to the kitchen, you were setting the table for dinner, your expression a mixture of sadness and determination. Natasha walked up to you, wrapped her arms around your waist, and rested her chin on your shoulder. “How did it go?” you asked quietly as you leaned into Natasha’s embrace. “It went as well as it could.” Natasha replied, her voice filled with quiet confidence. “She’s still hurting, but I think she’s starting to understand that we’re not going to give up.”

You sighed and closed your eyes for a moment. “I just wish I knew how to help her.” you murmured. “You’re already helping her.” Natasha said gently. “Just by being here, by being patient, by showing her love even when she pushes you away. It’s not easy, but you’re doing exactly what she needs.”

You nodded, your heart still heavy, but you felt a renewed sense of determination rising within you. “I’m not going to give up..” you whispered. “I won’t give up on any of them.” Natasha smiled, kissed your cheek. “And neither will I.” she said softly. “We’re in this together, Y/n. We’ll make it through, one day at a time.”

Months passed and Mia had quickly settled in, her cheerful nature and boundless energy bringing a light into the house that you and Natasha greatly appreciated. Jacob, though quieter, had also begun to open up and was gradually finding his place in the family. Since you allowed him to buy his own things, you both stumbled over piles of books every day,. But Lila? She was still struggling. The walls she had built around herself remained firmly in place, and despite all of your and Natasha’s efforts, she seemed determined to keep you both at a distance. It was a constant source of tension in the house, especially between Lila and you, as you bore the brunt of Lila’s anger and frustration.

One evening, Natasha was in the kitchen preparing dinner, while you were just on your way to join her. Mia was sitting at the table, doodling on a piece of paper, and Jacob was nearby, quietly reading a book. The atmosphere was calm, a peaceful routine that you had worked hard to establish. As Natasha stirred a pot on the stove, she heard Mia’s small, sweet voice call out, “Mommy, can you help me with this?”

Natasha’s heart skipped a beat, her hand pausing mid-motion. She turned to see Mia holding up her pencil with a confused expression, waiting for Natasha to come over. It took Natasha a moment to process what she had just heard. Mommy..Mia had called her mommy! The word hit Natasha like a wave, the weight of it filling her chest with a mix of emotions she wasn’t prepared for. She had been so focused on making sure the kids felt safe and loved that she hadn’t expected this moment hadn’t expected one of the children to call her by that name.

“Mommy?” Mia repeated, looking up at Natasha with wide, innocent eyes. Natasha blinked, quickly collecting herself and forcing a smile. “Of course, sweetheart..” she said, trying to keep her voice steady as she walked over to the table. She crouched down next to Mia and helped her with the drawing, but her mind was spinning, her heart filled with a mixture of joy and vulnerability.

You noticed the change in Natasha’s demeanor, how her eyes were a little brighter than usual, and you knew what had happened. You reached out, placing a comforting hand on Natasha’s arm and giving her an encouraging smile. Both of you had been waiting for this moment, and now that it had come, it was as overwhelming as it was beautiful. But the quiet joy of the moment didn’t last long. As Natasha returned to the stove, she heard the front door slam shut. Her heart sank, knowing that could only mean one thing. Lila was home.

You sighed, your expression growing more serious as you stood up. “Let me handle this.” you said quietly, knowing it would likely lead to another confrontation. Natasha looked at you sympathetically. “Do you want me to come with you?” she offered, knowing how difficult these moments were for you.

But you shook your head, determination in your eyes. “No, I need to do this.” you said gently. “She needs to know that I’m not going anywhere, no matter how much she tries to push me away.” Natasha nodded, watching you with a mix of admiration and concern as you left the kitchen and headed upstairs. She could hear the music blasting from Lila’s room, a clear sign that she was trying to shut out the world.

You knocked on Lila’s door and waited for a response that didn’t come. You took a deep breath, opened the door, and stepped inside. Lila was sitting on her bed, earbuds in, her face set in a grim expression as she stared at her phone. She didn’t even look up as you entered. “Lila.” you began, your voice calm but firm. Lila didn’t react, her fingers angrily tapping on her phone as if to drown out your voice. You moved closer and gently placed a hand on Lila’s shoulder to get her attention.

“Lila, please.” you said, your voice softening. “Can we just talk?” In that moment, Lila exploded. She ripped the earbuds out of her ears and turned to you, her eyes blazing with anger. “leave me alone!” she snapped. “Stop pretending you care because we both know it’s not true!” You recoiled slightly, the words hitting you like a physical blow. But you didn’t back down. You had heard this before, you had felt the sting of Lila’s rejection countless times. But you weren’t going to give up, not now, not ever.

“That’s not true.” you said, your voice trembling but determined. “I care about you. We both do. And I’m not pretending. I want you to feel safe here, to know that this is your home.” Lila scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest in a defensive posture. “Home? This isn’t my h-home. It’s just another place I’m stuck until you decide you don’t want me anymore..!” Your heart broke at Lila’s words, at the deep-seated pain and mistrust they revealed. You knew Lila had been through so much, that she had every reason to doubt the stability of her situation. But that didn’t make the words any less painful.

“That’s not going to happen.” you said, your voice filled with quiet resolve. “We’re not going to give up on you. No matter how hard it gets, no matter how much you try to push us away, we’re here. And we’re staying.” Lila’s eyes flashed with anger, her voice rising in frustration. “Why? Why do you even care? I’m just a burden to you, right? You’ve already got Jacob and Mia, so why do you even need me?” Lila finished, her voice cracking under the weight of her emotions.

Your eyes filled with tears, but you fought to keep them from falling, refusing to show Lila just how much her words hurt. “Because you’re part of our family!” you said, your voice trembling with emotion. “You, Jacob, and Mia, you’re all part of our family, and that means we love you, no matter what.” For a moment, Lila seemed to waver, her anger flickering as she looked into your eyes. But the years of pain and disappointment were too deep, too ingrained. She shook her head, her expression hardening again. “I don’t need your love..” she muttered, turning away from you. “Just leave me alone..please..”

You stood there for a long moment, your heart heavy with the weight of the conversation. You wanted so badly to reach Lila, to break through the walls she had built around herself. But you knew that it wouldn’t happen overnight. It would take time..time, patience, and a love that wouldn’t give up, no matter how much she resisted. Finally, you sighed and took a step back. “Alright.” you said quietly. “I’ll give you some space. But I want you to know that I’m here, whenever you’re ready.”

You turned and left the room, closing the door behind you with a soft click. As you made your way back downstairs, you felt the tears you had been holding back begin to fall. You quickly wiped them away, not wanting to break down in front of the children. When you returned to the kitchen, Natasha was waiting for you, her expression full of concern.

Without a word, she pulled you into a tight embrace, holding you close as the emotions of the day finally overwhelmed you. “You’re exactly what she needs, you know? She just doesn’t realize it yet. But she will, Y/n. I promise you, she will.” You clung to Natasha, finding strength in the quiet presence of your partner. Despite the challenges, despite the heartache, it was undeniably comforting to know that you weren’t facing this alone. You had each other, and that was enough to keep you going.

As the evening progressed, you both tried to push the tension aside and focus on the positive moments. Dinner passed quietly as Mia and Jacob chatted softly about their day at school. Mia, as always, was full of energy, telling stories about her friends and her new favorite game, while Jacob listened more than he spoke, but with a calmness that reassured you and Natasha that he was finding his way.

Lila, however, remained in her room, the door closed, shutting herself off from the world. Your heart ached every time you glanced down the hallway, wishing you could somehow reach through that door and pull Lila into the warmth of the family. But you knew it wasn’t that simple. Lila needed time, and more importantly, she needed to feel that she could come to you on her own terms.

After dinner, you and Natasha took the younger kids to bed. Mia was eager for her bedtime story, snuggling up to you with her favorite stuffed bear. As you read, her eyes slowly drifted shut, the words of the story lulling her into a peaceful sleep. Natasha tucked Jacob into bed, sitting with him for a few minutes as he quietly told her about a book he was reading. She listened attentively, offering encouragement and gentle advice, her heart swelling with pride as he began to open up more, sharing his thoughts and feelings in small but meaningful ways.

When the children were finally asleep, you and Natasha found yourselves alone in the living room, the house quiet except for the occasional creak of the floorboards or the distant hum of the refrigerator. You sat together on the couch, the weight of the day heavy on your shoulders. Natasha wrapped an arm around you, holding you close. “You’re helping them more than you realize.” she murmured. “Just by being here, by being patient. They been through so much, and they had to protect themselves for so long. And Lila maybe doesn’t know how to let people in, but she will. She’s starting to see that we’re not going anywhere.”

You nodded, though the doubt still lingered in your heart. “I just wish I could do more.” you said quietly. “You’re doing everything you can.” Natasha reassured you, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “And that’s enough. We’ll keep being there for her, for all of them. And one day, Lila will realize that she’s not alone anymore.” You closed your eyes and let yourself relax in Natasha’s embrace. “Thank you.” you whispered, your voice full of gratitude. “For being so strong, for holding us all together.”

Natasha smiled, her heart swelling with love for you. “We hold each other together.” she said gently. “We’re a team, Y/n. And nothing will change that.” As you sat there, wrapped up in each other, the weight of the day began to lift. The challenges you were facing were real, and there would be more difficult days ahead, but there was also hope..hope that your love and determination would be enough to carry you through.

5 months had passed since the Kids had come into your lives, and while some things had improved, others remained heartbreakingly stagnant. Jacob and Lila had gradually opened up to Natasha, and over time, both had begun to call her “Mom.” She had never imagined herself in this role, but now that she heard those words, everything felt so much more real. But you still found yourself on the outside. Mia had also completely bonded with you, with the same boundless affection she always showed. But Jacob and Lila had yet to overcome that final hurdle. They hadn’t opened up to you in the same way they had with Natasha, and every time they called her “Mom” without including you, it chipped away at your heart a little more.

You tried not to let it show, tried to stay strong and hopeful. You knew that these things took time, and you didn’t want to rush them. But as the days turned into weeks, the constant reminder of your position on the sidelines began to wear you down. In this fragile time, you received an unexpected call from Nick. You and Natasha had all but retired from active duty, focusing on raising your new family. You had only agreed to take on missions when absolutely necessary, when no one else could do the job. But this mission was one of those cases. Fury’s voice was firm, almost apologetic, as he explained the situation.

“I wouldn’t be calling if it wasn’t absolutely necessary.” Fury said over the secure line. “But this mission requires your particular set of skills. We need both of you.” You and Natasha exchanged a look, both feeling the weight of the request. You had built a new life, a stable life for your children, and the thought of leaving them, even temporarily, felt like tearing apart the foundation you had worked so hard to build.

“We have a family now, Nick.” Natasha said, her voice strained with frustration. “You know that. We can’t just drop everything and go on a mission.”

“I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t critical, Natasha.” Fury responded, his tone serious. “I know this is hard, but you’re the best we have for this job. If there were another way, I’d take it.”

You felt a lump form in your throat, the pressure of the situation bearing down on you. You had always known that this was a possibility, that your previous lives as Avengers could come back at any time. But now, with your family still so fragile, it felt like the worst possible timing. “How long?” you asked, your voice tense with emotion.

“Two days.” Fury replied. “We’ll have everything you need at the Compound. The kids will be safe and well taken care of.”

After a tense moment of silence, Natasha finally spoke. "We need to talk to the kids about this." she said, her voice resigned. "But we’ll do it." You looked at Natasha, the silent communication between you carrying the weight of your decision. You didn’t want to do this, didn’t want to leave your children, especially not when things were still so uncertain. But you also understood your responsibility, the trust Fury had placed in you, and the greater good you had always fought for.

That evening, the family gathered around the dinner table, the usual chatter quieter than normal. The weight of the day hung in the air, and even Mia seemed to sense that something was different. You cleared your throat and exchanged a glance with Natasha before speaking. "Kids, we need to talk to you about something important."

Mia’s eyes lit up with curiosity, while Jacob and Lila looked up from their plates, their expressions more guarded. "We got a call today from work." Natasha continued, her voice calm but tinged with a slight hesitancy. "There are some things we need to take care of." Mia’s excitement was immediate. "Are we coming too?" she asked, her voice filled with childlike wonder.

Natasha smiled gently and shook her head. "Not quite. You will come to work with us, yes. But we have to do the rest ourselves. You’ll stay there while we’re away, and we’ll be back as soon as we can." Jacob’s face brightened at the mention of the Avengers Compound. "Will we see the Avengers? The compound?!"

Natasha nodded, her heart aching at the thought of leaving them behind. "Yes," she said. "and we’ll make sure you’re safe and well taken care of while we’re gone." But Lila’s reaction was immediate and hostile. Her fork clattered against the plate as she dropped it, and her expression hardened. "So you’re just going to leave us there?" she snapped, her voice filled with anger and fear. "What if you don’t come back? What if this is just another way to get rid of us?"

Your heart sank at Lila’s words, the familiar sting of her mistrust cutting deep. "Lila, that’s not true." you said gently, trying to keep your voice steady. "This is just for the mission. We will come back, I promise you." But Lila wasn’t having it. She pushed her chair back and stood up, her eyes blazing with a mix of anger and betrayal. "That’s what you say now, but how do I know it’s true? You’re just like everyone else! Making promises you can’t keep."

Natasha reached out to Lila, her voice firm but gentle. "Lila, listen to me. We’re not like the people you’ve known before. We’re not going to leave you. This mission is something we have to do, but it’s just for two days. We will come back." Lila’s gaze fixed on Natasha, and for a moment, there was a flicker of vulnerability in her eyes. She opened her mouth to speak, but hesitated. When she finally did, her voice was quiet, almost trembling. "Mum, I don’t want you to go.."

The word hit Natasha like a blow to the chest. Lila had called her that a few times before, but the way she said it now, with such raw emotion, nearly broke her heart. Natasha wanted to hold her, to promise her that everything would be okay, but she knew it wasn’t that simple. You, standing beside Natasha, felt a sharp pang of pain. Lila had called Natasha "Mum" with such sincerity, and yet there was still a distance between her and you, a barrier that hadn’t been broken.

"We’ll come back, Lila." Natasha repeated, her voice firm but filled with emotion. "I promise you, we will come back." But Lila’s anger flared up again, defensive and protective of the wounds she still carried. "Promises mean nothing!" she snapped. "You’ll leave, and then you’ll realize you don’t want us anymore, and we’ll be right back where we started!"

Jacob and Mia watched in stunned silence, the tension at the table palpable. You felt the weight of the moment pressing down on you, the overwhelming feeling that no matter what you said, it wouldn’t be enough to ease Lila’s fears. She turned and stormed out of the room, the door slamming behind her and leaving a heavy silence in her wake. You stood there, your heart breaking as you stared at the closed door. You felt Natasha’s hand on your shoulder, a silent reassurance, but it did little to ease the pain in your chest.

Mia, ever the optimist, broke the silence with her soft, hopeful voice. "You’ll come back, won’t you?" she asked, her eyes wide and innocent. You forced a smile and knelt down to hug Mia tightly. "Yes, sweetheart." you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. "We’ll come back. I promise." Jacob, still sitting, looked at Natasha with a mixture of trust and uncertainty. "And you’ll be okay, right?" Natasha nodded and gently ran her fingers through his hair. "We’ll be okay." she said softly. "And we’ll come back to you. To all of you."

As the evening wore on, the atmosphere remained tense, the shadow of the upcoming mission hanging over you all. Natasha and you tried to maintain a semblance of normalcy, but the weight of the situation was impossible to ignore. Later that night, as you got ready for bed, you could no longer hold back your tears. You sat on the edge of the bed, your shoulders shaking as the emotions of the day finally overwhelmed you.

Natasha sat beside you, wrapping her arms around you, holding you close as the tears began to flow. You leaned into Natasha, your head resting on her shoulder as you let out all the pain and frustration you had been holding inside. "I don’t know what to do.." you whispered, your voice trembling. "This mission..I’m so scared that we’ll lose everything we’ve worked so hard for." Natasha tightened her embrace, her heart aching for you. She knew how much you had invested in this family, how desperately you had tried to connect with everyone, to be the mother they needed. But she also knew that some wounds took time to heal, and especially Lila’s wounds were deep.

"We’re not going to lose this." Natasha said firmly, her voice full of determination. "We’ve worked too hard, and we’re not going to let this mission take that away from us." You sniffled and wiped your eyes, trying to steady yourself. "I just wish I knew how to get through to them." you whispered. "Lila’s starting to trust you, and that’s wonderful, but I feel like.." You took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of emotions inside you. "I want to believe in us." you said quietly. "But its so hard..."

Natasha kissed your forehead, her touch tender and soothing. "You don’t have to go through this alone." she whispered. "We’re a team, remember? We’ll get through this together." You nodded, feeling a glimmer of hope in your chest. "I know." you whispered. "And I’m so grateful for you, Nat. I don’t know how I’d get through this without you."

Natasha smiled, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. "You’d make it because you’re strong, stronger than you think. And we’ll make it through this, all of us, together." You sat there in silence for a while, holding each other close, finding comfort in the quiet strength of your bond. The challenges you were facing felt overwhelming, but there was a deep, unshakable love between you that kept you going.

After a while, Natasha spoke again, her voice gentle but resolute. "We need to talk to Fury before we leave." she said. "Make sure everything is set up for the kids while we’re gone. And we need to make it clear to him that this is the last time for a long time. Our family needs us here." You nodded, your resolve returning. "You’re right." you agreed. "This is the last time. We need to be here for the kids, especially now. They need to know they can rely on us."

"And they will." Natasha said, her voice firm. "We’ll do this mission, but after that, we’re done. Our family comes first." With that decision, you both felt a sense of calm settle over you. The upcoming mission still weighed heavily on you, but you now knew where your priorities lay, and you were ready to fight for what mattered most.

The next morning, you both rose early to make the final preparations. You called Fury and made it clear that this would be your last mission for the foreseeable future. Fury understood, and though his tone was brisk and professional, there was a note of respect in his voice. “We’ve got everything set up for you at the Compound.” Fury said. “And I’ll make sure the kids are well taken care of while you’re on the mission. Maria has come forward to take care of them."

With heavy hearts, you and Natasha packed your bags, the reality of leaving your children, even temporarily, weighing heavily on you. But you proceeded with a clear goal in mind, the knowledge that this step was necessary to ensure the safety and protection of the world, a world you wanted to safeguard for your children. Before you left, you gathered the children in the living room. Lila sat on the edge of the sofa, her expression wary, while Jacob and Mia sat close to their parents, their faces a mix of excitement and nervousness. Maria already waiting for them.

Natasha knelt in front of them, her voice calm and steady. “We’re leaving now.” she said, her heart aching as she looked into their eyes. “But we’ll be back soon. While we’re gone, you’ll be safe at the Compound, and you’ll have everything you need.” You reached out and gently touched Lila’s arm, your voice soft. “Lila, I know this is hard, but we will come back. We promised you, and we’re going to keep that promise.”

Lila didn’t respond immediately, her eyes focused on the floor. But when she finally looked up, there was a faint glimmer of something in her expression, something you couldn’t quite decipher. “Be careful, please.." Lila murmured, her voice barely audible.

Natasha smiled, her heart swelling with emotion. “We will.” she promised. Mia, always a bright light, hugged both Natasha and you tightly. “Don’t forget us!” she whispered earnestly. “Never.” you whispered back, your voice full of love. Jacob, who had been quiet until then, finally spoke up. “I’ll take care of them, mum.” he said seriously, his small face determined. “I’ll make sure they’re okay.” Natasha felt her heart swell with pride as she ran a hand through Jacob’s hair. “I know you will, buddy.” she said softly. “You’re so brave.”

After a final round of hugs, Natasha and you stood up, ready to go. You looked at your children, your family knowing that you were leaving behind what was most important to you. But you also knew that you would return. As you walked out the door, you glanced back one last time, your heart heavy but resolute. Lila stood in the doorway, her arms crossed, watching you with an unreadable expression. You wanted to run back, to tell her again how much you loved her, how much you would miss her, but you knew this was a moment Lila needed to process on her own.

Natasha and you got into the car, your hands finding each other as you drove away from the house. The upcoming mission was crucial, but equally important was the promise you had made to yourselves, to each other, and to your children. You would come back. And when you did, you would continue to fight for your family, no matter how difficult it became.

The mission briefing was straightforward but dangerous. A covert Hydra base had been discovered in the heart of the city, suspected of holding critical information about upcoming terrorist attacks. Natasha and you were assigned to infiltrate the base while Steve and Bruce took care of the outside world. On paper, it was simple, but both of you knew how quickly things could go wrong.

Natasha glanced over at you, her concern evident in the furrow of her brow. "We can do this. One last time." You met her gaze and forced yourself to smile confidently. "I’ve got your back, Nat. Always." Natasha shook her head, though the worry didn’t leave her eyes. "Just stay close. We go in, we go out. No unnecessary risks." You knew what she was really saying: Don’t be a hero. But that was easier said than done when it came to Natasha. You’d do anything to protect her, even if it meant putting yourself in danger.

The Quinjet landed on a rooftop a few blocks from the Hydra base. The city was always quiet, the only sounds were the distant hum of traffic and occasional gusts of wind. Natasha led the way, moving with the silent grace of a predator, and you followed closely behind her. You descended a fire escape and disappeared into the shadows as you approached the building. The Hydra base was hidden beneath an abandoned warehouse, a perfect cover in a city full of forgotten buildings. Natasha scanned the area, her sharp eyes catching the faint glow of surveillance cameras hidden in the corners. She signaled to you, and you nodded in understanding. You had to be quick and silent, any alarm would mean a swarm of armed Hydra agents descending upon you.

With her Widow’s Bite, Natasha disabled the cameras one by one, clearing a path to the entrance. Your heart pounded in your chest as you approached, the weight of the mission heavy on you. You couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off, that you were walking into a trap. But you pushed the thought aside and focused on the task at hand. You reached the entrance, a steel door with a biometric lock. Natasha pulled a small device from her belt, attached it to the lock, and watched as it began bypassing the security system. The seconds dragged on, each one filled with the suffocating silence of anticipation. Finally, the device beeped, and the door slid open with a soft hiss.

You slipped inside, the darkness of the corridor swallowing you whole. Natasha led the way, her senses on high alert as you navigated the labyrinthine interior of the base. The air was thick with tension, every step bringing you closer to the heart of the Hydra operation. You reached a large, dimly lit room filled with computer terminals and stacks of documents. Natasha’s eyes locked onto the central console, where a data drive was inserted. "This is it." she whispered.

Your grip on your weapon as you positioned yourself by the door. Natasha moved quickly, her fingers flying over the keyboard as she initiated the data transfer. The seconds ticked by, each one a small victory as the progress bar crept closer to completion. But just as the transfer was nearly finished, your worst fear came true. The door to the room burst open, and a group of Hydra agents stormed in with weapons raised. You reacted instinctively, firing a shot that took down the lead agent before he could pull the trigger. Chaos erupted in the room, bullets flying as the two of you fought for your lives.

"Nat, we have to fall back!" you shouted over the noise, your voice laced with desperation. But Natasha was focused, too focused, her eyes locked on the last remaining agent standing between you and the exit. She went in for the kill, but in that split second, everything went wrong. The agent, a hulking figure with a cruel grin, raised his weapon and aimed directly at Natasha. Time seemed to slow as you recognized the danger. Without thinking, you threw yourself in front of her, your body acting on pure instinct. The gun fired, the noise deafening in the enclosed space.

The sharp crack of gunfire echoed in Natasha’s ears, a sound she had heard countless times before, but never with such devastating clarity. It was as if the world had frozen, everything narrowing down to that one terrible moment as you threw yourself in front of the bullets meant for Natasha. The world around her dissolved into chaos. She barely registered what she was doing as she took down the last enemies, her body moving on autopilot, but her mind was solely focused on the woman lying in a growing pool of blood.

"Y/n!!" Natasha’s voice was a rough, tortured cry that echoed off the cold metal walls of the base. She dropped to her knees beside you, her hands trembling as they hovered over your body, unsure where to touch, where to press, where to begin mending what had been so horribly destroyed. Blood. So much blood. It stained your clothes, your skin, and Natasha’s hands as she finally pressed down on the gunshot wounds, trying to staunch the unrelenting flow. The blood was warm, sticky, seeping through Natasha’s fingers no matter how hard she pressed, and it filled her with a fear she had never known before.

"Why did you do that?!" Natasha’s voice quivered with a mix of anger and despair, her green eyes blazing as they met yours. "I told you to be careful! Why didn’t you listen to me!" Your breathing was shallow, each breath a painful struggle. Your face was pale, your eyes glassy as you looked up at Natasha, a gentle, sad smile playing on your lips. "I couldn’t… let him.." you whispered, your voice weak but resolute. "I had to protect you."

Natasha’s heart clenched painfully in her chest, a sob threatening to break free as she pressed harder on the wounds, desperately trying to stop the blood, trying to keep your life from slipping through her fingers. "You’re an idiot!" she choked out, her voice breaking as tears streamed down her cheeks, mixing with the blood on her hands. "You stupid idiot. You should have let-" She cut herself off, her throat closing up as the truth hit her like a sledgehammer. She had failed. She had failed to protect the woman she loved more than anything in this world.

Your hand, trembling and weak, reached to Natasha’s hands, "Don’t blame yourself.." you whispered, your voice barely a shadow of its former strength. "You couldn’t have known..Please, don’t blame yourself."

But Natasha couldn’t hear you, not over the deafening roar of her own guilt. She reached for her radio, her hands slick with blood as she brought the device to her lips. "I need a MedEvac now!" she called out, her voice breaking with desperation. "She’s been shot- two bullets to the chest, she’s losing too much blood!" She dropped the radio, her hands returning to your wounds, pressing down with all her might, even though she knew it wasn’t enough. She could feel your life slipping away, like sand through her fingers, and it was tearing her apart.

Your hand, weak but determined, found its way to your chest, pressing against one of the gunshot wounds. Your fingers came back bloody, and you stared at them, a strange sense of calm washing over you. "It’s..a lot.." you murmured, almost to yourself, your voice distant, as if you were already slipping away. "Don’t look." Natasha pleaded, her voice shaking as she gently took your hand and pulled it away from the wound. "Don’t look, just focus on me. Look at me, Y/n."

Your eyes flickered back to Natasha, your gaze softening as you saw the tear-streaked face of your wife. "Nat..it’s okay." you whispered, your voice growing weaker with every word. "I love you..I love our kids..Tell th-"

"Stop it." Natasha snapped, her voice hardening with a desperation that bordered on hysteria. "You’re going to tell them yourself. You’re going to be fine. We’re going to go home, and you’re going to see them. You’re going to hold them in your arms, and you’re going to be fine. Do you hear me? You’re going to be fine!" Your eyes grew heavy, the pain and exhaustion too much to fight against. But you could still hear Natasha’s voice, that beautiful, strong voice that had always made you feel safe.

Natasha had to keep you awake. She had to make you talk, keep you focused, keep you alive. "The Kids are waiting for us." Natasha began, her voice trembling but determined. "Mia..shes probably drawing on the walls, and lets Maria wipe it away.." Natasha continued, forcing a smile despite the tears streaming down her face. "She never listens when it comes to her art. And Jacob..he’s probably curled up in that old chair, reading another one of his books. He’s so thoughtful, so kind. Just like you"

Your lips twitched in the faintest hint of a smile, your eyelids fluttering as you struggled to stay awake. "Lila’s probably got her headphones on, blasting that awful music she’s into these days.." Natasha said, trying to keep her voice light even as her heart shattered with every passing second. "She thinks it’s cool, even though it drives us all crazy. But she’s strong, just like you. She’ll be okay."

You managed a weak chuckle, but it quickly turned into a wince of pain. Natasha’s grip on your hand tightened, her other hand still pressing desperately against your wound. "Natasha, I’m so..proud of them.. proud of you.."

"And I’m proud of you." Natasha whispered back, her voice cracking as she leaned closer, her forehead resting gently against yours. "You’re the strongest person I’ve ever known, Y/n. You’re going to get through this. You have to." But despite her words, she could feel your life slipping away, your breaths becoming shallower, your skin growing colder. Panic clawed at her insides, a deep, primal fear that she had never felt before. "Stay with me!" she pleaded, her voice breaking. "Please, stay with me. I can’t lose you. I can’t do this without you!"

Your eyes opened one last time, meeting Natasha’s gaze with a softness that broke her heart. "I love you." you whispered, your voice so faint it was almost lost in the air. "I’m sorry..I couldn’t-"

"Please, no." she whispered, her voice choked with sobs as she held you close, her tears mixing with the blood that stained both of you. "Don’t leave me, Y/n. Please…" The world seemed to narrow down to the sound of Natasha's frantic breathing, the steady dripping of blood on the floor, and your weakening heartbeat that she felt under her trembling hands. The walls of the Hydra base seemed to close in around her, the oppressive silence only broken by the distant echoes of their previous fight.

But then, there was sudden movement, heavy footsteps echoed on the concrete floor, voices shouting commands. The door to the room flew open, and Natasha barely registered who it was until she heard Bruce's voice. "Natasha! Step aside, let me through!" Bruce's voice was firm, but there was an urgency in it that Natasha had never heard before.

Natasha didn't want to let you go, couldn't let you go but she forced herself to move just enough to allow Bruce to kneel beside you, his first-aid kit already in hand. His face was hardened with determination as he quickly examined your wounds. His eyes met Natasha's for a brief moment, filled with something she couldn't name and didn't want to name. "This doesn't look good.." Bruce muttered quietly as he pulled out an improvised bandage and pressed it firmly against the wounds to stop the blood flow. You groaned in pain, your body jerking under his hands.

"Stay with us, Y/n.." Bruce said, his voice deep and calm, though Natasha could hear the pressure beneath it. "I need you here, okay? I'll do everything I can, but you need to hold on." Steve appeared in the doorway, his faces serious and tense as he took in the situation. Steve acted quickly, his gaze hardening as he recognized the severity of your injuries. "We need to get her out of here, immediately." he said, his voice leaving no room for argument.

"Steve, be careful." Natasha warned, her voice laced with fear as she watched him kneel beside you. She knew what needed to be done, but the thought of you being moved, the pain it would cause you, made her stomach twist with anxiety. Bruce looked up at Steve, his face grave. "I've managed to slow the bleeding, but it's not enough. We need to get her to the Quinjet quickly, she doesn't have much time left."

Steve nodded, his jaw clenched as he carefully slipped his arms under your limp body. The moment he lifted you, your eyes shot open, and a blood-curdling scream escaped your throat, raw and filled with agony. Your hands clawed at Steve's arms, your fingers digging in as the pain shot through your body like fire.

"I know it hurts." Steve said, his voice strained as he tried to keep you calm. "But we have to move you. We have to get you to the jet." Natasha was immediately by your side, her hands reaching for yours, her voice soft and soothing as she tried to calm you. "I'm here, Malysh. I'm here. Hold on, okay? Focus on my voice. We're getting you out of here."

Your eyes were wide with pain, your breaths coming in short, gasping bursts as Steve carried you toward the exit. Natasha kept pace beside you, her heart breaking at every tortured sound that escaped your lips. "Think of the kids, Y/n." Natasha murmured, her voice trembling but determined. "Lila, Mia, and Jacob, they're waiting for us. We're going home to them. You just have to hold on a little longer."

Your grip on Natasha's hand tightened, your eyes finding hers as if drawing strength from her words. "I'm..I'm trying," you gasped, your voice barely audible, but Natasha could hear the desperation, the fear. "You're doing so well, baby.." Natasha whispered, her own voice breaking. "You're so strong. Just a little bit more, I promise. We're almost there."

The Quinjet came into view, the cargo door already open, and Bruce was shouting instructions to Sam, who was preparing the medical area for emergency treatment. Steve moved as quickly as he could, his face set in determination, while your blood soaked through his uniform. Natasha stayed close to you, her hand never leaving yours, her voice a steady stream of reassurance even as her own fear threatened to choke her. "We're almost there. Just a few more steps."

Your eyes fluttered, your strength fading fast as Steve carried you up the ramp into the jet. As soon as they were inside, Bruce was there, helping Steve to gently lay you on the medical bed. The moment your back touched the bed, you screamed again, your body convulsing with pain.

Bruce moved with controlled urgency, his hands flying over the medical equipment as the jet's engines roared to life. "We need to stabilize her." he said, more to himself than the others. He inserted an IV, pumping fluids into your body to counter the blood loss. "Her pulse is weak, Natasha, keep talking to her. Don't let her drift away."

Natasha nodded, her tears flowing freely now as she leaned over you, her lips close to your ear. "You're doing so well. I'm so proud of you. Keep your eyes on me, okay? Just look at me." Your eyes fluttered open, glassy with pain, but you managed to focus on Natasha, your lips trembling as you tried to speak. "I..love you.." you whispered, your voice so weak that Natasha had to strain to hear it.

"I love you too." Natasha whispered back, her heart breaking at the sight of your pale, bloodless face. "So much. You're going to be okay. You have to be okay." But even as she spoke, Natasha could see the life fading from your eyes, your body growing colder under her touch. And then, in a moment that would haunt Natasha forever, your eyes rolled back, and the heart monitor emitted a long, shrill beep.

"Y-Y/n?" Natasha's voice was a broken whisper, her hands shaking as she shook your lifeless body. "No, no, no..Bruce do something!" He was already moving, his face pale as he grabbed the defibrillator paddles. "We're losing her! Clear!" The shock jolted your body, but the heart monitor remained flat, its unbroken tone slicing through the air like a knife. Natasha's breath caught in her throat, her entire body filled with cold terror. "No! You can't leave me! You can't leave me!"

Bruce pressed the paddles to your chest again, his voice tight with concentration. "Clear!" Your body convulsed with the shock, but still nothing. Natasha felt something inside her break, her knees giving out as she clung to your hand, her tears falling onto your still, lifeless body. "Don't do this!" Natasha sobbed, her voice breaking. "Please..I can't lose you. I need you!"

Bruce was relentless, refusing to give up as he administered another shock. "Come on, Y/n!" he muttered through gritted teeth. "Come on." Ad then, like a miracle, there was a flicker on the monitor..a weak but present heartbeat. Natasha's breath caught, hope flooding her like a wave. Bruce immediately switched tactics, working quickly to stabilize you, his hands moving with a speed that only came from years of practice.

"She's back.." Bruce said, his voice trembling with relief but also with the realization of how fragile this life still was. "But she's not out of the woods yet. We need to get her to the MedBay immediately." The Quinjet accelerated to full speed, racing toward Avengers Compound. Natasha stayed by your side the entire time, her hand gripping yours so tightly her knuckles turned white. "You can't do this to me again, you hear me?" she whispered urgently, as tears continued to stream down her face. "Do you hear me, Y/n! You can't leave me."

Natasha held on to the faint pulse under her fingers, to the fragile heartbeat that was all that kept her world from completely shattering. The flight back to the Compound felt like an eternity, every second stretching out as Natasha watched Bruce work, her heart heavy as a stone in her chest. But she refused to let you go, refused to let you slip away again. She kept talking to you, whispering promises, clinging to the hope that somehow, someway, they would make it through this. The Quinjet landed with a jolt on the grounds of the Compound, the ramp lowering before the engines had fully powered down. Natasha didn't wait for the jet to come to a complete stop, she was on her feet immediately, running alongside the gurney where you lay, pale and motionless, as Bruce and a team of medics rushed you into the medical wing.

The blood seeping through the hastily applied bandages was a constant reminder of the bullets that had torn through your body. Natasha's hands were still stained with that blood, her mind fogged with fear and despair as she clung to the edge of the gurney, her eyes never leaving your face for a moment.

The medics burst through the doors of the medical wing, but in that moment, Natasha's breath caught. In the hallway, eyes wide with fear and horror, stood her children. Lila, Jacob, and Mia. They were supposed to be with Maria! Safe and far away from the nightmare that was unfolding. But there they were, huddled together, their faces pale with fear and confusion. They must have sensed that something was wrong, must have noticed the change in the air when the Quinjet landed.

“Mom!” called Lila, her voice cracking under the weight of fear and anger. “What happened?? Is Y/n okay??” Jacob clung Lilas arm, his face contorted with worry. “Why is there so much blood?” he asked, his voice trembling. “What happened to her?” Mia, held onto Lila's other arm, her big eyes filled with tears as she looked up at Natasha. “Why are there so many poeple?” she whispered, her voice small and full of fear. Natasha's heart broke at the sight of the Kids, standing there so vulnerable and scared. This was the last thing she wanted..that they had to see you like this, that they had to be exposed to this kind of fear. She wanted to protect them, to shield them from the harsh realities of the life she led, but there was no time to think, no time to find the right words.

The medics paused for a brief moment, a fleeting second, as they maneuvered the gurney through the door. In that instant, the Kids saw you, your ashen face, the blood-soaked bandages, the way your body lay motionless and lifeless. It was only a brief moment, but it was enough. Mia let out a small, sharp cry. She turns to Lila's to press her face into hers and Jacob's eyes widened, his grip on Lila's arm tightened until his knuckles turned white. Even Lila, who was trying so hard to be brave, took a step back, her face drained of all color.

“oh my god, what happened?!” Lila asked, her voice rising in panic. “Why does she look like that? What’s going on?” Natasha felt her throat tighten, her breath catching in her chest. She needed to be with you, needed to be by your side as the doctors fought for your life. But she couldn’t leave the kids like this, couldn’t just walk away without giving them some kind of explanation, some kind of comfort. She knelt in front of them, her hands reaching out to pull them close. “Listen to me.” she said, her voice trembling with the effort to stay calm. “Y/n..she's very badly hurt, but the doctors are going to do everything they can to help her. You need to stay with Maria now, okay? I have to be with her.”

Mia's tears spilled over, her little hands clutching at Natasha's suit. “But why did she get hurt?" Jacob was crying now too, silent tears streaming down his face as he shook his head. “I don’t want her to die, mum. I don’t want her to die..” Lila, her face pale and drawn, looked up at Natasha, her eyes a mixture of fear and anger. “She won't, will she?” she asked, her voice breaking. “Why did this even happen to her and not to you?”

The question hit Natasha like a physical blow, the guilt she had been trying to suppress rising up and choking her. How could she explain this? How could she make them understand that you had taken those bullets for them, that she had made the ultimate sacrifice because she believed they needed Natasha more? But there was no time. The medics began to move again, pushing the gurney through the doors and out of sight. Natasha’s heart twisted painfully as she looked at her children, their tear-streaked faces filled with confusion and fear.

“I promise I’ll explain everything.” Natasha whispered, her voice thick with tears. “But right now, I have to be with her. Please..please stay with Maria. I’ll come back as soon as I can.” She pulled back a little and looked directly at Lila, who was trying so hard to hold it together. “Lila.” she said, her voice firm but full of urgency, “I need you to be strong now. Your brother and sister are going to need you. I need you to take care of them while I’m with Y/n. Can you do that for me?”

Lila’s eyes widened, the weight of what Natasha was asking settling on her young shoulders. She hesitated, fear and uncertainty flashing in her eyes, but then she nodded, her jaw setting in determination. “I can do it.” she said, her voice steady despite the tears she was fighting back. “I’ll take care of them.” Natasha reached out, cupping her face with one hand, her thumb brushing away a stray tear. “Thank you." She whispered, her voice filled with gratitude and love. “I know it’s a lot to ask, but I trust you, Lila. I need to know they’re safe with you.”

Lila nodded again, this time more decisively, and took Jacob and Mia’s hands, squeezing them reassuringly. “We’ll be okay, Mom. You go take care of Y/n.” Natasha swallowed hard, fighting back the tears that threatened to overwhelm her. “I’ll come back as soon as I can.” she promised, pressing a kiss to each of their foreheads. “I love you all so much.” With that, she forced herself to turn away, even though every instinct screamed at her to stay with them, to hold them until the fear subsided. But she couldn’t. She had to be with you, had to be there while the doctors fought for your life. She hurried after the medics, her heart pounding in her chest as she rushed through the doors of the medical wing, leaving her children behind, their tearful eyes searing into her memory.

[soulessjourney]

Hello love I have a request that I would love you to write!

Cassian or Azriel I am not picky and Y/N

Y/n gets into an argument with Cassian and or Azriel about how they are not attentive, and they’re for them anymore and says that if things don’t change they’re leaving. Things do not change and it is the night that the inner circle goes into Hewn city. at the gala, Eris ask Y/N to dance. And one of the boys is really brooding just standing in a corner just watching YN and Eris dance and then is the part where Taylor goes. “I can see you staring honey like he’s just your understudy like you get your knuckles, bloody for me” I want their eyes to connect from across the dance floor. That would be great. then I am giving you full creative freedom with the undertones of exile by Taylor Swift. give me all the angst you can give the more the better.

I absolutely love this idea! I hope that I live up to your expectations and provided enough angst to feed that burning hunger of yours! Also apologies that it has taken me so long, in all honesty I kept forgetting what I was writing and I wanted it to be PERFECT.

Exile

Paring: Azriel x Reader

Word count: 4k

Summary: Azriel starts to distance himself from you. Fed up with his disappearing acts, you confront him, only for it to end in driving you away entirely.

Warnings: Angst (and lots of it), Fighting, Language, Hurt and comfort (from Mor)

If there was one thing Azriel was known for, it was his dedication to his work and his undying loyalty to Rhysand. He was also your mate, someone who meant the entire world to you. You had met Azriel about two hundred years ago when you started your bakery. He came in after watching you struggle with carrying the large bags of flour, extending a helping hand. Since then, he started coming daily to see what new goods you were cooking up, and that's when he asked you on your first date.

The first date was a bit awkward as he shied away, speaking in such a hushed tone that you had to repeatedly ask him to repeat himself. Despite Azriel's strength, you loved his shy side. There was something so docile and soft about it, and you were the only one who truly got to see that side of him.

When the bond snapped into place, both of you were fighting over who would mix the flour, ending with both of you covered from head to toe. It was when he heard your infectious laugh that he felt it, and it was obvious when you gave him that loving gaze he was drawn to. Your eyes were so soft, and your smile was wide. So, that evening, you made him his favorite treat and offered it to him, which soon led to Azriel making sure Rhysand got it through Cassian’s head that you two were not to be bothered for a few weeks.

Those were the moments you missed more than anything. You missed curling up with Azriel as you read the same book, often sharing your reactions. You missed hiding from him to scare him, only to fail the moment his shadows shot out to greet you after a long day. You missed your mate, and your happy memories felt like a fever dream. He was starting to become a distant memory, and part of you wasn’t even sure if you wanted to put up a fight.

You couldn't recall the last time you had spent more than a few moments with him. Lately, he had been staying at the House of Wind to be closer to Rhysand, ready for any last-minute missions that might arise. Initially, you didn't mind, considering Rhysand's frequent missions, especially when Feyre was pregnant and needed his support. However, what began to trouble you was that he never invited you to join him, nor did he visit your shared home to see you.

Then you heard about the time he started spending with Elain. You weren't bothered by her, as you couldn't blame her for shutting everyone out. Her entire life had been stripped away in a matter of moments, and now she was essentially immortal, with a mate forced upon her. However, understanding also brought weariness. You could sense that she had developed feelings for your mate, and Azriel, being who he is, most likely was unaware of the affection she held towards him. Strangely, this knowledge made you want to be around him more, but you didn't know how to navigate the situation.

Azriel had been a significant presence in your life, and the sensation of him slipping away was something you loathed. At some point, he had closed off the bond, making it nearly impossible to reach out to him through it. Running your hands over your face, you attempted to dispel the exhaustion before deciding to visit the House of Wind to ensure Azriel was at least alive.

Your arrival at the House of Wind did not go unnoticed. Cassian, upon spotting you ascending to the training area, made your presence known. "Y/N! You're here. We've been wondering when you would show up. We were starting to think you didn't like us," he teased, capturing everyone's attention.

Clearing your throat, you offered him a small smile as the breeze tousled your hair. "Yeah, things have been hectic at the bakery. Have you seen Azriel? It's been hard to find him lately," you inquired, noticing Cassian's expression contorting into one of pure confusion.

"What do you mean? He said he was with you this morning," Cassian replied, scrutinizing your every move. Dread began to fill your body as the realization that Azriel had even been deceiving the others dawned on you.

Forcefully laughing, you scratched the back of your head, clearing your throat. "No, he was! By 'lately,' I meant during the day since he's usually all over because of the missions Rhys keeps assigning him," you explained, even your forced smile fading as Cassian's gaze filled with concern and pity.

"Y/N, Rhys hasn't assigned him anything for a while, not after what happened with Feyre and your injury. Rhys wanted him to be around you more because of that close call. Are you telling me you haven't seen him?" Cassian inquired, raising a brow and challenging you to lie. By now, the entire area had cleared out except for Nesta, who stood in the background watching you and Cassian, her jaw tense. She knew something, and you would extract it from her if necessary.

"No, I haven't. I mean, he comes home once in a blue moon, but then he just sleeps in the guest room, and he's gone by the time I wake up," you admitted, your shoulders sagging. "I really miss him, Cass. The nightmares are starting to return. He's not avoiding me because he blames himself for what happened, right?" Just a few months ago, Azriel had angered someone, resulting in a dagger being firmly lodged in your side. Recalling that moment, you realized Azriel wasn't present when Cassian and Feyre found you on the floor of the bakery's kitchen that morning.

You heard Nesta curse before she joined Cassian's side. "I spoke to the idiot already, and I thought I got through to him. He's with Elain in the garden. I saw them just before training started, and considering how often they spend time there, he should still be there," she divulged, her expression shifting from anger to guilt. You wanted to be furious, but part of you couldn't muster the anger towards her. Nesta had tried her best to handle the situation discreetly, but with her knowing, you wondered just how long Azriel had been sneaking around with Elain while deceiving the rest of his family.

You hadn’t heard anything else Nesta had said as your feet carried you through the house. Just as you turned the corner, you collided with a solid chest, causing you to stumble back. Looking up, you sucked in a deep breath as your eyes locked with a pair of hazel ones. "Azriel," you breathed, reaching out towards him. Your hand fell to your side when he pulled away from you. "I've missed you. You're never around anymore," your voice thick with emotion as you struggled to say anything beyond the standard 'I miss you'.

Azriel glanced over your shoulder, his expression hardening. "You're not supposed to be here. Why are you here?" His eyes eventually met yours as a scoff escaped your mouth. You hadn’t seen your mate for the past few weeks, and that’s what he had to say to you? That you weren’t supposed to be there, trying to ensure he was alive?

"You're joking, right? Azriel, I haven’t seen you for weeks, and that’s all you have to say? A hello would’ve been nice at least," you snapped, crossing your arms. Rolling his eyes, he turned on his heel and began to walk away. "No, you don’t get to walk away from me, Azriel. That’s not fair. You don’t get to pull a disappearing act without some sort of explanation. You don’t get to lie to your family and expect not to get caught," you snapped, following after him. As the two of you entered the dining area, you missed the others sitting at the table, their conversations cut short as you stomped after Azriel.

Azriel stopped and spun towards you, his wings flaring slightly. "My gods, Y/N, can’t you just get off my back? I’m not going to be there every single second of the day with you. You need to learn how to live without me for once in your life." Any sound that filled the room suddenly fell silent as you took a step back, feeling as though he had slapped you.

"Oh, shit." Looking around, you came face to face with your family, all silent as they watched you. Nesta was glaring daggers at Azriel, while Cassian and Rhysand were positioned to intervene if things went south. Mor and Feyre looked at you, their faces filled with guilt. Then there was Elain, sitting there with the audacity to appear clueless about what was happening. Your entire family was there to witness the potential downfall of your relationship with Azriel. Great.

"What's your issue, Y/N? Why are you on my case today? I haven’t done anything to deserve this nagging. Gods, it’s like after you healed, you became an overbearing mess," Nesta slammed her hands down on the table and stood, prompting Cassian to grab hold of her to prevent her from lunging at Azriel across the room.

A dry laugh escaped you as you narrowed your eyes. “Overbearing? Azriel, you haven’t been around in weeks! You can’t even stand to be in the same room as me. And overbearing? Day to day, I have to deal with the people you anger, and I constantly fear for my life because of your job. I took a damn dagger to the side and almost died because of your job. I’m sorry if accepting you for who you are and your job is overbearing. I’m sorry that worrying for you is just so awful. You’ve changed, Azriel, and I don’t know if it’s because of the damn elephant in the room or if you’ve simply given up. I’m tired of dealing with the nightmares alone, and I want you back by my side when I wake up screaming because I constantly feel that dagger ripping me apart.” Tears streamed down your face as you looked around.

Rhysand had slowly made his way towards you with Mor by his side, the two members of this family, besides Cassian, whom you trusted with your life. Glaring down at the ground, you looked up at Azriel, your face void of any emotion. “If you can’t clean up your act, I’m done.” Azriel froze as a flood of fear slammed into you. He slipped, and you could tell the moment he slammed those walls back up.

“Clean up my act? You’re the one to talk. It’s like ever since you woke up, you became afraid of the world all over again. You shouldn’t need us to walk you to work and back. You shouldn’t need us hanging around the store all day just because you’re scared of someone showing up. I can’t stand to have a mate who is so fearful of the world.” You dropped your shoulders in defeat at his words. It was true; after what happened, you had been terrified of being in that shop, fearing they would come back and finish the job.

Rhysand was next to you in a second, followed by Mor, who caught you as your knees gave out. “That is no way to speak to your mate, Azriel,” Rhysand spat. “You sat around moping because you wanted one. The Mother blesses you with one, and this is how you thank her? Seriously?” Rhysand crossed his arms, the room noticeably darkening.

“Well, maybe she made a mistake. Maybe Y/N isn’t supposed to be my mate. We have nothing in common, meanwhile, Elain and I do.” The moment the words left his mouth, your head snapped in Elain’s direction as you clenched your jaw.

Looking back at Azriel, you shook your head. “I mean it, Azriel. If you can’t clean up your act, I’m done. Don’t bother looking for me until you figure out your mess. I’m done,” you spat, winnowing from your very spot into your room. Grabbing a duffel bag, you began to cram things into it just as you heard footsteps sprinting down the hall towards your door, and the echoes of voices calling out to the owner of those steps.

As Azriel threw open the door, you looked at him as he reached out for you, his mouth opening to say something. Before you could hear what he had to say, you disappeared, leaving him standing in the middle of your room.

---

It had been a month since you chose to seclude yourself in Mor's guest bedroom. As the door slowly opened, light flooded into the dark room, and Mor stepped inside. Sitting on the bed, she gently rubbed your back to draw your attention. "Hey there, sweetheart. It's time to get you out of this room. Velaris has started to notice your absence now that the bakery is closed," she said softly, sensing your reluctance. "He still asks about you, but he's also spending more time with her. Rhys has tried talking sense into him, Cassian kicked his ass, and the girls have been giving him the cold shoulder. I'm sorry, my love, but perhaps attending the Gala in Hewn City would do you good," she suggested, brushing your hair away from your face gently.

You nodded and turned onto your side to look at her, a small frown forming on your lips. Mor's gaze softened as she sighed softly. "Come, I want to show you something," she said, gently pulling you out of bed. Standing up, you followed her out of the room toward another one just down the hall. Mor pushed the door open, revealing a mannequin adorned with a stunning deep purple gown featuring delicate beadwork climbing the bodice. The main skirts bore the design of a tree and leaves, with the beads on the skirt representing flowers. It was the most beautiful gown you had ever seen.

"I had it made for you to wear tonight. You deserve to look and feel beautiful. Azriel is taking you for granted. With your beauty and eyes that could bring a man to his knees, this dress is perfect for you," Mor whispered from behind you, resting her hands on your shoulders gently.

A wide smile graced your lips for the first time in a month as you turned to face Mor. "Thank you, Mor. Truly, it means a lot to me that you did this," your words were soft and heartfelt. A sense of brokenness lingered within you, the result of Azriel's neglect over the past month, compounded by the knowledge of his time spent with Elain. Mor guided you to the bathroom, where she helped you into the tub and began to wet and wash your hair.

"You know, we’re all upset with him for treating you like this. Yes, Elain needed help before, but even Nesta started to reprimand him for spending too much time with her. I remember when he first came home after meeting you. He was covered in flowers and had the biggest grin on his face. He couldn't stop talking about you, and Cassian often had to beg him to stop. But then, after one of his missions went awry and you got hurt, everything changed. He refused to see you, or even go near that part of the house. And then he kissed Elain. I thought Nesta was going to tear him to shreds. After that, he began lying to us about spending time with you, even after Rhysand practically forced him out of the garden." Mor's words pierced through you, mentioning the kiss shattered your fragile emotional state.

A wave of despair washed over you. Shoulders slumping, you gazed down at the water surrounding your bare form. "Do you think he still loves me?" you asked, your voice trembling with uncertainty. Mor took a deep breath, visibly caught off guard by your question. She hummed softly as she poured water over your head, grappling for the right words.

"I'm sure he does. Azriel is complex, we all know that. For centuries, he's prayed to The Mother for a mate. I heard him whispering a prayer every night until he met you. Then it turned into begging her to ensure your safety. Azriel tends to shut down and push away those closest to him when he's struggling to cope. He avoided Rhysand when he returned from Amarantha's clutches. His treatment of you isn't fair, but I genuinely don't know how to reach him anymore." Mor cleared her throat, rising to her feet. "I'll leave you to dry off and get into a robe. When you're ready, come downstairs, and I'll help you dress and do your hair," she offered with a comforting smile, squeezing your shoulder before exiting the room, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

It didn’t take long for you to exit the tub once the water turned cold. After drying off your body, you slipped on a black silk robe and began to towel dry your hair. As you made your way towards the stairs, you made a mental note to find a way to thank Mor for everything she had done for you. Nearing the bottom of the steps, you froze upon hearing Mor engaged in a conversation with someone. Peeking around the corner, you spotted Azriel standing with his back to you in the middle of the living room, while Mor stared at him with an intense gaze. “She thinks you don’t love her, Azriel. You’ve pushed her to the brink of giving up,” she snapped, causing him to tense at her words.

Azriel ran his fingers through his hair, his mouth opening and closing as he struggled to find the right words to say. “I do, I just... I don’t know. I haven’t seen her for a month, and I’m starting to go crazy, Mor. I don’t know what to do about it anymore, and it feels like everything I say comes out wrong,” he confessed. You noticed his shadows lurking in the room, beginning to slither their way towards you.

“And what about the kiss, Azriel? You kissed Elain while your own mate was at home, thinking you were off on some mission Rhysand assigned to you,” Mor jabbed a finger into his shoulder. “You gave up, and she kept pushing. This is your doing, and you need to figure it out. She was serious when she told you to clean up your act. Right now, you’re showing her you’ll never change, not after you hadn’t even bothered to come see her for a month knowing she was here. You pushed her aside for Elain. It’s time you finally accept the consequences of your actions, Azriel. If you lose her for good, that’ll be on you.” Before Azriel could respond, he tensed and turned towards you, his eyes widening.

Allowing your gaze to fall into a blank expression, you looked at Mor. “I’m ready,” your voice came out as a whisper, and Mor nodded, shoving past Azriel. You both made your way back up the stairs, leaving Azriel standing alone in the middle of the room. Once again, you were just out of his reach, and once again, he was on the verge of losing you for good.

---

The gala was breathtaking. Witnessing the courts gathering together always brought you immense joy. Tamlin made his way towards you, a wide smile on his face. “Y/N! It’s good to see you again. We've been missing your baked goods dearly,” he grinned, prompting a laugh from you. Born in the Spring court, you had grown close to Tamlin, and it was there that you honed your baking skills while growing up. When the time came for you to seek a new path, Tamlin had let you go, assuring you that you would always have a home to return to.

When Azriel pulled his disappearing acts, leaving you alone with your thoughts, you often debated returning to Spring, where you knew you had a family who would welcome you with open arms. “Thank you, Tamlin. If I'm ever permitted, I’ll be sure to bring you some of my cookies that you drooled over,” you teased, brushing a curl away from your shoulder.

Tamlin looked around, a questioning look flashing across his face. “Where’s your mate? The last time you and I talked, he was glued to your side.” Your eyes dulled slightly as you shrugged. You hadn’t seen Azriel all evening, though you knew he was here as you were constantly followed by a shadow.

Before you could respond, Eris made his appearance, as fashionable as ever. “Y/N, you truly outdid yourself this time. You look absolutely breathtaking in that dress. Shall we have a dance?” Without waiting for your answer, Eris grabbed your hand and led you towards the dance floor, where bodies swirled in a mesmerizing pattern. You and Eris fell into an easy rhythm as he looked down at you. “Sorry to drag you away from Tamlin, but I couldn’t help but notice how sad you looked. Is it because of your mate?” His eyes bore into yours as you sucked in a deep breath.

“It would be a mistake to lie to you,” you grumbled, earning a laugh of agreement from him. “Azriel and I haven’t talked for a good while. He’s been busy with other things,” you mumbled, avoiding eye contact. As you both spun, you caught sight of him standing in the corner of the room, watching you. Your eyes hardened as they locked onto his.

Eris cleared his throat, pulling your attention back to him. “You know, if you need a break from your home, you can stay in my court. We obviously have the room, and I can make sure you get the space you need to think. As much as Morrigan hates me, she’s worried about you to the point where she asked me for help.” Studying his gaze, it wasn’t hard to tell that he was being genuine.

Looking towards Azriel again, you studied him, your eyes narrowing as Elain walked up to him, handing him a glass. Biting back your tears, you let your walls down, throwing every ounce of anger, betrayal, sadness, and fear at him. You watched as he stumbled back slightly, his hand flying up over his chest, his eyes locking onto yours. You watched as Elain reached out to him, running her hand over his arm as she tried to check on him. Eris stopped moving as he stood next to you, watching the interaction between the both of them. “Just say the word, and I can take you away from here,” he whispered.

You waited for him to brush off Elain, but he didn’t. He let her hand rest on his cheek as he kept his eyes on yours, his eyes widening. “He doesn’t care about me anymore, Eris. Take me to your court,” you said, looking up at Eris, who only nodded. You didn’t miss how he glanced at Rhysand and the others, giving them a small nod. You didn’t miss how their shoulders sagged in defeat once they realized you were leaving. You didn’t miss how the crowd began to part as Azriel raced towards you, dropping to his knees in front of you. You watched as his body shook with sobs, how he begged you to stay, begged you to stay by his side. “Where were you when I begged The Mother to bring you back to me? Where were you when I was dying on the kitchen floor of my own bakery after taking a knife for you? Where were you when I woke up screaming for you? Go back to Elain, Azriel. You made your decision.” With that, you turned to Eris, giving him a small nod. With that, the both of you walked away, leaving Azriel on the ground sobbing into his hands before he disappeared from your sight as the crowd closed behind you.

[bunji-enthusiast]

One Whole, Became Two

Note || this took me so long to write, but I love this stupid idiot platonically. Chapter three my sleep-deprived folks 👍🏻

WC || 3,312

<(part 1)><(previous part)><(you are here)>

Sypnosis || you bring back a dear old dead heart to a wounded dog.

If someone ever told you that you would’ve come back to a desolate factory full of death and damnation you would tell them that in what world in which would that happen? You never would’ve heeded their words.

Oh, how wrong you were.

You hated being wrong.

Yet, many things may have happened, some of which allowed you to get in some exercise… you also gained some new friends. They are very near and dear to you, despite the small numbers you retain in your ragtag group of allies. You preferred the terminology friends, you’ve gotten close with Kissy Missy and Poppy, even DogDay too!

Speaking of which, this accursed Playcare was still a little too dark for your liking. You needed more power, more light to go the right way necessary. A light chuckle breaks you out of your thoughts, “A-angel, do you need some help?” DogDay inquired, watching as you had tried to remember which way he had pointed to the medical station.

You shook your head egregiously, trying to affirm your belief as you spoke, “I got it… I swear I know which way it is!” Your shoulders slumped as you let out a defeated sigh, having to hate asking him for help.

Asking for help wasn’t necessarily your most favorite thing in the world, in for the most of miniscule of things. You thought it was ridiculous, insipid to do, in no way would you ever ask for said help unless you really were struggling.

Apparently as of right now, these were one of those moments that you were truly struggling, and it was with directions as well. You couldn’t be any more ashamed, “Could you m-maybe tell me where it was again?”

DogDay let out an amused bark, not merely in making fun of you. He thought you were just cute, the way you were embarrassed, though DogDay will never actually admit this feeling to you. “Okay, Angel, you see that sign over there? It points to the direction of the medical station.” Your large companion points to the sign in question, you sorely cannot miss it no way, his paw was big. Actually, it’s nearly the size of your head.

“Ah, focus!”

The pathway was riddled with broken cobblestone and dirt, but do-able to make your way through. You just hated broken paths, no trouble still.

You nod to let him know you saw it, walking over to the sign that was now a few pacings away from you. The silence had now settled in place for the lack of conversation, it was seemingly getting awkward enough as is. Suddenly, a new voice interjects on the radio of your walkie-talkie.

“Oh there you are! I wasn’t able to connect to you on that side of the dome!” His light voice carried an undercurrent of worry. “No ouchies or lost body parts?”

DogDay raised a brow as you two had continued making your way to the medical station. You nodded your head curtly, as if angling your head to signify you’d explain the kid on the radio at a later time. You spoke out in reply, knowing full well you weren’t in any real danger at the moment, “I’m uh, I’m fine Ollie. Just taking care of a friend, they got hurt… real bad.” A wince left your throat at the tone you carried within your words, you didn’t expect that.

A thought rushed into your head, “Why’d I word it like that? I guess I’m just worried about revealing DogDay to Ollie just yet.” DogDay patted your leg as to reassure you, eyes gleaming as if they were smiling down upon you. 

“Alright, you can introduce me later,” Ollie paused, as if he were hesitating to get the words out of his mouth. As if something was holding him back from doing so, “Take care of them first then I’ll tell you what to do next. See you!”

Then, the radio was now silent. You let out a breath you held in your lungs, sometimes forgetting to breathe reminds you to even breathe manually. An odd habit but nobody will nitpick that for the life of all there is to know and exist. 

An abrupt cough shocked you out of your thoughts, you immediately became concerned for DogDay who had been patiently waiting for your dilemma and conversation to end. You knelt down and checked over his body, “No need to worry.” You lodged his resistance in the back of your head, looking for any external wounds beside the most obvious ones. 

“I shouldn’t have stopped.” You murmur, gently picking him up. There was no way you’d let him drag himself along the floor, not until he was in a better state.

“We’re alright Angel,” DogDay sputtered, you were unimpressed, not phased by his words. “Really… but who was that if I may ask?” 

Steadily, you continued walking–the stupid medical station finally in reach. “Ollie, apparently sometime after I dropped down here he told me he was an ally of Poppy.” You then trailed off, not sure if you wanted to mansplain the entirety of the story down right to when you came across DogDay. Sighing, you begrudgingly open the door to the station.

The room was messy, akin to the state of many other locations in Playcare. But in your modest opinion, you truly did not care about that. You just really needed to fix up DogDay, and he was the focal point of your attention right now. “Angel, you seemed to be incredibly bothered.” 

DogDay shifted on the weight of his body as you began setting him down, if you were being truthful, you couldn’t refute that very fact. Yet you felt too angry to get the words across, “I know, I.. I guess this stupid factory just has me all on edge.”

Then a silence settled into place, as neither of you were unsure of what to say next. Everything and nothing was happening all at the same time. You walked over the ruined carpet, it looked as if it was made in the 1980’s. Some doors seemed to be torn off of it’s hinges, but at least the supplies were barely stolen. There was enough to treat DogDay properly, as much as you can manage within your knowledge anyway.

The hard part would be treating DogDay, (as you unfortunately didn’t have enough knowledge medically) and getting him his legs back so he could walk on his own as well. 

Gently, you opened a door to a closet, full of bandages and gauze. 

“Perfect timing, guess I didn’t need to look that hard.” You thought to yourself, your hands already grabbing the bandages and gauze. A small smile graced your cracked lips, carrying a genuine air with you, “Hey, DogDay I found some supplies. Looks like they left this place pretty untouched.” You waved at him, holding the aforementioned supplies in hand. 

DogDay perked up from where he had been looking at some stray medical papers, most likely files of every patient to come in and out of the station. “Oh!.. Thank you greatly. You really are an angel my friend.” You become bashful at his words, an embarrassed chuckle leaving you as you scratched the back of your head. Standing up you walk back over to the large dog, motioning for DogDay to position himself to where you can get to all the spots correctly.

You sighed, having to take a moment in order to set yourself into focus, this was important. You didn’t want to screw up something so crucial to DogDay’s health, “Ok, This might hurt a little so bear with me.” You warn, crouching down as you laid out the supplies.

“I have no doubt you will do fine!” DogDay encouraged you, settling down to be calmer for you. Fine, yes you can do fine. Okay well enough maybe, you just need to be careful!

Why was this so difficult?

“Stupid brain, Stop giving me all these thoughts!” You groan lowly, setting into place to mend his more major wounds with a contemporary suture. First off, you needed to clean the suture, to which you had quickly done. 

You gently pressed a wet rag to the most prominent area, cleaning it out of any debris that might be left behind in the wound. DogDay was simply listening and quiet upon your actions, clearly a little too impressed for your liking. You swabbed the wound with water then threw away the rag a few meters from you, you internally winced at that. 

Injuries are a major case for you ever since you stepped foot into this factory, you just never expected to be having to treat another person (or toy for that matter). 

“Angel?” You let out a hum in reply, suturing the wound as he spoke. “You seem… incredibly bothered, maybe you should try to talk about it.” DogDay shifted slightly, wincing a little as he had done so. Concern washes over your expression as you went to hold him, he held out a hand to reassure you he was fine.

“Well.”

You sat back on the heel of your foot as you thought about it for a moment, your brows knitted together. It was practically hurting your head, giving you a headache to be thinkin about every little thing that was running through your head.

Your lips pressed together in a thin line, unsure of whether or not to air your concerns. But it seems you weren’t gonna have any other chance to talk about it then right now, you just didn’t wanna dump everything on DogDay all at once. 

Practically would seem like a lot. Far too much to say and too little to be sure of. 

“I guess I’m just concerned over whether or not I really can trust Poppy,” You signal, having a habit of talking with your hands. “And this, Prototype guy… didn’t you say CatNap worships this thing like a god?”

He nods, “Yes, I didn’t join the Prototype. Which is why he had deemed me a heretic.” You frown at his words, nobody deserves that type of treatment. Making it even worse, you would assume the two used to be very good friends. 

“Oh dear,” You echo, recoiling suddenly in embarrassment for voicing something you didn’t realize slipped out of your mouth. DogDay laughs at this, waving his hand as he sits himself upright so as to not slip onto his back, “You are very much correct Angel.” He nods, “If anything, he’s no longer the old CatNap I’ve come to know him as.”

You shrug, a little unsure of the situation right now. Then a thought you finally needed ran across your mind, “Hey, would you happen to remember where your legs are or if… any spare ones laying around anywhere?” You motion around the room as you spoke, voice trailing off as you sat back, and awaiting DogDay’s response. He appeared to be deep in thought, clearly thinking about your question.

“I believe they have some spares in a storage room at this station,” DogDay gestures at the specific door he thought of in mind. “But Angel, I might be wrong. Don’t trouble yourself for my sake beyond this.” His voice strains, as if pleading. 

You chewed your lips, nodding your head once more as you headed to the door of origin. You quietly crept into the room, seeing how dark and dank it was. Slowly but surely your eyes had adjusted to the light. 

“Now, where are you… stupid legs.” You mutter, taking notice of some poppy gas that laid in wait in the corner, not to mention how badly scratched this room was in particular. Probably the work of CatNap or some other toy. On instinct, your legs drove you forward as you stepped into the gas with a gas mask inset upon your face. You certainly didn’t feel like dying from the gas, or passing out for that matter.

You had a debt to pay.

Your eyes wandered aimlessly as you palmed around for the supposed legs, feeling around for each and every inch possible that you might miss. 

Suddenly you felt a fuzzy feeling run up across your arm, you jostled in surprise, a happy squeak leaving your throat when you pick up the legs. “Thank you, sweet baby jesus.” You huff in reprise, feeling accomplished at the place of convenience.

If you could laugh right now, it would be possible, heaven sure as hell wasn’t a place for angels anymore. Not even you, but you still had to follow through, you came here in the first place anyway.

A small sigh left your esophagus as you turned, walking back through as you made careful note not to trip walking back too. 

Something had your mind occupied, demons infested this place. Elliot Ludwig had created this place, and if he so proclaims to want to bring joy to thousands upon thousands of children around the world then why would he permit the experiments. All those children and the elderly… your heart couldn’t help but ache at the mere thought. 

You shake your head to get your mind out of the unilluminated gutter, DogDay lit up upon seeing you in his sights once more. “Angel, you are alright.” He mentions, paw held to his chest as if he were breathing a sigh of relief.  

Your nose was scrunched as you gutted a snort, “You say that like it’s so surprising DogDay.” DogDay shrugs, as if he was now expressing the vulnerability of being embarrassed at the prospect of his own words. 

“Ah I’m just joking with you,” You wave him off, DogDay remains silent at this, not having any thought at what to say back to you. You were right though, he shouldn’t be doubting you for what even anyone in particular is worth. Being freed for what feels like the first time in forever had been leaving him with brand new thoughts, even though he had been thinking and left well alone for nearly over a decade now.

One door closes, infinite more are open. One must beware the foreign class, otherwise you may as well see yourself dead. 

“I truly do apologize for Poppy’s actions… we all mean well.” DogDay begins, trailing off into nearly an inconceivable silence. You set down the legs, to which DogDay is delighted at this brand new aspect, yet still left without room to be uncouth. You didn’t speak at all, pressing between the fine line of the truth and his own words. 

“We must, break the circle.”

What?

“Angel?”

“You all are chained, if whatever happened all those years ago were true…” You sigh, rubbing the nape of your neck as you find yourself in an air of awkwardness. “Then I am also at fault for the way you guys are right now.” 

DogDay’s brows drew together, upset that you feel guilty for the entirety of this fortnight. At least it had felt that way for you, you sincerely had lost track of time since your watch had gotten destroyed. You tried keeping up with the time on the clocks you pass by, but you just generally had lost the energy and motion in doing so.

“Hmn.” He muttered to himself, then got up to hug you, which had clearly surprised you as you felt yourself being enveloped and wrapped in a very fluffy hug. You sigh and decompress after a few moments, the shock finally leaving your body.

“Thanks… DogDay,” You motion, patting the fluff resting upon his chest. “I actually really needed that, hugs are a rarity.” You admit, blush burning on your cheeks as you look away from him in a manner of speaking. You hear a chuckle interrupted by a cough, “Don’t thank me, you seemed to really need it Angel. Being exhausted is one thing, but no hugs?”

DogDay drew a paw to his chest as he spoke dramatically, “That is absolutely unacceptable!” Your hand crossed over your mouth, trying to stifle a laugh at what a drama king DogDay was posing as at this very moment. 

“You kinda remind me of someone I know.” You motion, then sat on the heels of your feet as you immediately went back to work in fixing up DogDay. 

“How so?” 

“You're pretty bright, act like a drama king sometimes and you even can be a little mean…” You wag a finger as you see him begin to protest at the mean comment, “I don’t mean like in a rude manner, just like in a brotherly way. You kind of act like a big brother sometimes.” You shrug with a hint of finality, fixing up his other injuries and repairing them with a gentle hand, even if the suture seemed to betray the tremble displayed. 

After silence had continuously settled in once again, you sigh, angling at the fact on what to do in order to mend DogDay’s very obvious injury with his lack of legs attached at the bottom of his torso. For a moment, you meander with the decision.

“Right, I’m gonna try my best to reattach them to you.” You spoke with a benign tone, more so displaying your own distrust of yourself. You hated that, you practically hated everything so why is this any different.

You just have to do it scared. 

Familiarity reigns over your heart as you see his large paw lay over your own hand, you sigh, sensations shuddering your body as you keep yourself calm. You silently thank DogDay as you gesture that you were okay now, you can be fine on your own.

You push the legs to his upper half, just barely enough that it would appear as if the legs were there and back again already. Your hand wanders over to the middle line, your eyes glaze over with forlorn worry taking your very worried brain. You sigh as you begin stitching, taking careful caution as you notice him flinching quite a few times throughout the process. At a leisurely pace, you notice by the influence you had made by taking care of him how much better he looks physically. 

Soon enough, you manage to completely stitch his legs back to right where they belong. “Well done, I knew you could do it Angel!.” DogDay shook with excitement, reassuringly glad at the prospect of being able to actually walk again. You swear you could collapse at the relief, you hold out a finger before you let him get excited any further, “I still need to bandage it all together, extra precaution if you catch my drift.”

Your large dog companion nods in understanding, shifting about so his body parts don't get sore from sitting in one place for too long. 

From before, grace was high in patriarchy, now then you were sure it was something high to fall from. You could climb to the top (bottom to be literal) and rip the Prototype off of his high horse, and free all the surviving toys. 

You shook your head, trying to calm yourself at the buzzing excitement that had resonated deep-seated into your heart. You quickly went to work on bandaging the middle line of his torso, carefully curating it enough so the bandages would cover the stitches completely. 

“There, now we are done and good to go!” You look up at DogDay, offering him a soft smile. “Angel really… thank you so much.” He gestures for you to come closer, so you oblige and go in, suddenly you feel yourself being hugged by unabashed warmth. You yelped as air bloomed across your skin, seeing as you are now in the air quite a few feet off the ground.

DogDay really was hugging you with the whole of his heart, so you melt into his touch, relenting as you found defeat–yet also peace with your furry friend.