#even if I just put something like sniffles or ugly sobbing please know I am probably flapping my hands or smiling uncontrollably 😭

[bree-cheesy]

Can I please have a submissive!insecure!schlatt x service dom!reader!! 🙏

Like, I want to see schlatt crying about his chunkiness (I’m also a chubby!schlatt enjoyer if you couldn’t tell) due to him comparing himself to his 2019 pics (ether brought on by him or the 12 y/o’s on twitter/X) and y/n is just like ‘Fuck no! You’re so fucking beautiful that I could write like 10 novels about your beauty alone!!!’ and then proceeds to give him the best head in his entire life (immediately shattering his tough guy mask, turning him into literal putty) then it’s followed with the best pegging session in his entire existence (any coherent thoughts is gone by this heavenly experience alone) meanwhile y/n’s just kissing his face and bare body and worshiping him and his body as if he’s some sort of deity and it’s end with schlatt being a blubbering, crying, whining, moaning mess.

It’s followed by a bath aftercare, and whilst y/n’s laying on his bare chest schlatt asks y/n why they’re doing all this for him, he’s feels he doesn’t deserves it (he does!) and they reply with this absolute banger: ‘it’s because you’ve done so much of the same thing for me time and time again… without even asking anything in return… and I’m just now returning the favor.’

OMFG!!! IM DYING!!! HOLY SHIT!! I AM ACTUALLY DYING AND GOING TO HEAVEN!! I NEED THIS!!! I NEED THIS YN IN MY IRL LIFE!!!!! MY GODS!!!! 🙏🙏💗💕

-🍰 anon.

OKAY I FINALLY HAVE IDEAS I PROMISE!

🍰 Anon, I hope I haven't let you down with how long this has taken. I hope I did this amazing request justice. 🙏🙏Tried to keep it any gender kind of thing because you requested pegging so it could be a someone with a dick or someone using a strap on. Whatever you wanna imagine! :)

I haven't ever written anything like this so I'm nervous about how people will like it. :(

Word Count: 1044

-----------------------------------

Jay had always been insecure of his body. Horrible self image from things people would say online and just his own thoughts. He always thought he was so ugly compared to you. He hated being out in public with you because he felt so unworthy. You were the most beautiful person to him in the world and he hated how he looked standing next to you.

Today had been a particularly rough day for him. He had just gotten done with his first stream in months and some of the things people were saying about him really got to him. He was standing in front of the long mirror you guys had leaned up against the wall in your bedroom with his shirt off, his hands on his belly, tears welling up in his eyes.

You walked in, not knowing what was going on. "Hey, Jay, did you see where the-" You looked over and your mouth shut when you saw the slight in front of you.

It broke your heart instantly. You knew he struggled with his self esteem, but you didn't know it was this bad. "Hey, what's goin' on?" You walked over and hugged him from behind, burying your face in his shoulder. He let out a sob and you squeezed him tighter, felling your heart break even more.

"W-Why am I so ugly? God, I look like a fucking ogre." He let go of his belly and you felt his shoulders drop. You moved to stand in front of him and gently held his face in your hands. "Why are you even with me? You deserve someone who is as beautiful as you. You deserve someone who isn't fat."

You frowned and ran your thumb over his jaw. "Why do you think that? I love you, Jay! I don't like that you think you're fat. There's nothing wrong with being a little chubby. I could write novels on how beautiful I think you are!"

He shook his head and sniffled, wiping his tears away. "You're just saying that to make me feel better." He pushed your hands away and you scowled. "Don't lie to me, it's just gonna make me feel worse."

You put your hands on your hips and looked up at him, frowning. "Do I need to prove it to you or something?"

He cocked his head to the side in confusion and a soft frown formed on his face. You got down on your knees and instantly saw a blush form on his face. You pulled his now hard cock out of his shorts and pressed a soft kiss to the tip. He let out a little whine and bit his lip.

You started off slow, teasing him a little, savoring his soft moans and whines. Slowly taking it deeper into your hot wet mouth and down your throat. Your hands found their way to the back of his thighs and you started bobbing your mouth up and down his length, sucking in cheeks just enough to make his knees weak. "B-Babe... s'too much..." He whined and pawed at your hair softly, panting heavily.

You started going a little faster, taking him deeper and relishing in the feeling of his fingers tightening in your hair, not guiding your head, just holding. You pulled off and stroked him up and down, twisting your wrist as you went up. "Feel good, baby?" He moaned, sounding a little nasally and nodded, thrusting into your hand in time with your strokes.

"Just wanna make you feel good, hun.... My best boy, huh?" You kitten licked his tip while stroking and he moaned louder, not even being able to speak at that point. His words coming out like a blubbery mess. You sucked lightly on the tip while stroking him with one and hand and lightly massaging his balls with the other.

"I-I'm gonna..." He moaned and gasped, his voice whiney and needy. You could tell he was close. His eyes were squeezed shut, eyebrows furrowed and a slight pout formed on his lips.

"Cum for me, baby.... Wanna see it." He let out a loud moan and came hard in spurts on your hand, whining and pitifully bucking his hips into your hand. "Good boy..." You cleaned it all up and pushed him back on the bed, pulling off the remaining of both of your clothes. "Gonna make you feel so good, baby.... I promise."

After carefully making sure he was completely prepped and ready, you had him on his back, legs up and you slowly slid inside him. He moaned and bit his lip hard, squeezing his eyes shut. You leaned down and gave him small kisses all over his face and lips while slowly thrusting in and out of him.

"F-Fuck..." He gasped and choked on his words, locking his ankles around your waist. You went a little faster after he got used to it and he let out sounds you didn't even know could come out of him. "R-Right there... Fuck, don't stop..."

You breathed heavily and kissed him deeply while hitting that perfect spot inside him that made him melt into the bedsheets. Not able to form words and he moaned and whined loudly, probably making the whole neighborhood hear him. "So perfect.... Fuck you're amazing." He groaned out as you stroked his cock in time with the thrusts.

After a few more thrusts, he came all over his belly without warning and you slowly pulled out of him. Kissing him softly through his orgasm, you reached over to the tissues on the nightstand and cleaned him up gently. You turned on the bath while he slowly started to relax and got in with him, pressing your back against his chest and cuddling softly into him.

"Why did you do all of this? I didn't deserve it." He asked softly, stroking a hand up and down your belly.

"You're always doing the same things for me. Helping me through my bad days and just being the best person I've ever known and you never ask for anything in return. I wanted to make you feel the same way you always make me feel because I love you."

He smiled and kissed your forehead. "I love you, too."

-- Bree <3

-------------------------------------------------------

Any good? Finally cleared out my asks so hopefully I'll get the motivation to start some Kinktober stuff. Toodaloo!

[sandinthemachine]

Chasing Cars

König x gn!reader

Yeah, it's after the snow patrol song

Words: 1930

Warnings: This is an exploration of grief centered around the holidays. It's not written to be beautiful, it's not written to have wonderful characterization, it's written because I needed something to pour my emotions into.

I couldn't bring myself to post it on Christmas, and I almost didn't post it at all, but just in case there's someone out there going through the same thing, and happens to read this, I want this to tell you it's okay. I want this to tell you you're not alone. It's okay to cry, no matter how long it's been. Everyone around you is celebrating and having a beautiful time and there's a hole inside you that you feel like you have to ignore so you don't bring everyone else down. I see you. I love you. And you deserve the world.

All that being said, please only read this if you have the emotional capacity to do so right now. I won't be offended at all if you need to skip over it.

-

“Yeah, right there, that looks perfect.” You smile softly as König places the shimmering ornament far higher than you can reach. “Just a few more now.”

A rustling comes from the kitchen before your mother walks in, arms wrapped around a giant mixing bowl. “It’s looking really good, guys!” She grins. “Can you taste this, see if it’s any good?”

You chuckle as she holds the batter out to you, nudging König. “All yours, babe, you’re the star baker.”

He bites back a smile, shaking his head at you. “I am really not that good.”

“Lies,” you scoff.

König leans over the bowl, hovering a hand over it. “May I?”

Your mother nods, holding it out for him to dip a finger into. He pops it into his mouth, eyebrows furrowing in concentration before he nods. “Hmm, I think…” He clicks his tongue, humming. “It’s perfect.”

Your mother laughs, patting you on the shoulder. “Keep him.”

“I’ll do my best.”

You turn back to the tree, regarding it with hands clasped. You feel König press into your back as he points to an empty spot. “How about there?”

“Yeah, that’s a good spot.” You turn as König leans into the ornament box. “What do you want to put…there?” 

You trail off as he straightens, holding out a tiny green piece. A corvette. “This one?”

You nod quickly, swallowing. “Mmm-hmm, yeah, umm…” you clamp your jaw shut as the sound cracks. Without another word you turn and storm into the kitchen, your hands catching on the side door as you try to shut it behind you as quietly as possible, as normally as you can. You pause on the porch, feeling the freezing air biting through your clothes and gasp, slapping your palm over your mouth.

You drop into a crouch, inhaling through your hand and squeezing your eyes shut, holding the breath. It’s ok, it’s ok, you’re ok. You move your hand up to cover your eyes, letting out a trembling exhale. In…out. In…out. See? You’re ok. It’s alright.

The door opens.

A sob bursts from your throat. You shove your face into your knees, arms wrapping tightly around yourself, but it’s too late. The tears are coming faster than your lungs can keep up, and you pitch forward, rolling onto your shins and forearms and wishing you could sink into the boards you were now soaking.

A hand brushes against your back and you flinch, the fingers jumping back with a rushed apology. You shove yourself up a bit, wiping wildly at your face. “It’s,” you sniffle, sobbing again, “it’s ok.”

You look sideways to where König kneels next to you, his hands hovering in the air and his mouth twisted in an expression that wrenches your heart even further. He has no idea what to do.

You try to smile but it sours on your face, morphing into an ugly grimace. You don’t dare open your mouth again, not like this, not when you’re trying so hard to swallow down all the sounds in your throat. So you open your own shaky arms, and in an instant he’s pulling you into his chest, holding your head and shoulders as you break all over again.

-

You don’t know how long it takes you to calm down. All you know is the grounding feeling of one of his hands drifting slowly up and down your back as he holds you through…this. 

He doesn’t know. 

You never told him.

“König?”

“Hm?”

“There’s…somewhere I need to go.”

-

He doesn’t say a word as you lead him to your car. He stops you with a hand on your shoulder, holding out his palm until you get the hint and drop your keys into it. It’s a good idea. You’re in no state to drive.

You curl up in the passenger seat, staring out the window and only acknowledging his presence when you tell him where to turn. He lets the silence hang there, reaching over to hold your knee, his big hand engulfing it entirely. You place your hand over it and immediately he twists his wrist, fingers lacing with yours.

He holds his tongue as you guide him through the old iron gates and up the long lane to park beneath the old oak tree in the back. 

You get out without even checking to see if he’s following. 

He is.

He hovers just a pace behind as you walk through the rows of stones, counting. 6 from the edge, 5 in.

You stop in the middle of the row, dropping to your knees in front of a simple stone, reaching forward to pull a leaf off of it.

You hear König’s sharp inhale behind you and know he’s read the words. And the death date. A week before Christmas.

You sniffle, digging your hands into the cold grass in front of you. “I’m sorry I never told you, I, how could I-”

A warm hand falls to your shoulders and you look up, his outline dancing in your watery vision as he kneels. “I’m sorry.”

You nod, turning back to the grave, reaching a hand up to trace over the letters as you feel your cheeks moisten all over again.

“Hey, Papa,” you say, your words coming out wet and slimy. “It’s been awhile.”

-

“What was he like?”

You try to smile through tight lips. “He was…warm. I know everyone talks about how great people are once they die, but for him, everything they said really was true. He made dinners for the food pantry, and he’d sit down and talk with everyone that came in, get to know their life story. He’d take them out for coffee sometimes. He…” You pinch your nose, huffing a laugh through the tears. “He’d get us cards for every holiday. Not just the big ones, I’d get a silly card for something like the spring equinox or Groundhog Day, I’d get separate cards for Christmas Eve and Christmas Day…” you laugh, a real one this time. “I always thought it was so stupid, but…” you trail off, shaking your head.

With a shaky inhale you pick it up again. “He volunteered with the local youth group, too. Dozens and dozens of kids, and he remembered every one of their names, he remembered their favorite lollipop flavors and made sure they always got them. When he…” you pause, swiping at your eyes. “When he was sick we got letters, an entire box full of letters all the kids wrote, telling him how much they missed him, telling him to get…to get…get well soon.”

You pitch forward again, slamming your hands into your eyes as another round of sobs wracks your body. “We couldn’t…we couldn’t t-t-tell them, he wasn’t gonna get better, he…he…he was supposed to have months. The doctors said months, but the day after we got those letters he…”

“Hey, hey, you don’t have to say it.” König leans over you, tucking your face into his neck and pulling you into his lap. “He seems…really nice.”

You laugh, the sound chopped. “Yeah. Yeah, he was.” You inhale, breathing in the comforting smell of his cologne. “He would’ve really liked you, you know.”

His arms tighten around you, and you feel his chest expand with a stuttering breath of his own.

“You know what the worst part is?” You breathe the words against his neck, feeling the muscles tighten as he shakes his head. “He was perfect. He was just…a genuinely good person and…he was so much better than I could ever be. I feel like no matter what I do I don’t live up to that memory because how do you live up to someone like that? Everything I do just stains his legacy so much because I’ll never be-”

“No. No.” He pulls back, holding your face. “I don’t-” he sighs, his head falling forward into yours. “How can you say that? How can you tell yourself that…right after telling me how much he loves you?”

Loves. Present-tense.

You don’t even have the words to reply, so you just let yourself go limp, letting him hold you up for a little while while everything else drags you down.

-

It becomes a tradition, between you and him. Every time he comes home with you for the holidays he drives you to the grave. He brings a blanket the next times, and the pair of you sit with you leaning into him, cheeks soaking.

You tell him about the bones you sit above, all the things they’d done, everything you remember, all the things you wish could have been.

And he listens.

-

But this year is different. This year König arrives alone, a day before you two usually come. Hesitantly he sits next to the stone, leaning a shoulder on it and staring at the ground. And this time, he is the one who speaks, who opens his mouth and stutters out all the words he’s held close to his chest all this time.

"Hi, I guess. I’m…König. I don’t know if you’re watching me from somewhere or if you know who I am, but…” he sighs. “I don’t know how to do this. I never knew you but…I know someone who did. I know how much they love you, and I know how...I know how much I love them.” He rubs his forehead. “This is so stupid, but…Ah…I guess I wanted to tell you how they’re doing. Something like that.” He huffs. “The world is...well, I guess I better not swear in front of you...but the world is not so good all the time. You know that already.”

He pauses, tapping his hands along his thighs. “The world hurts…it hurts a lot...and somehow…they are still so hopeful and warm. And...knowing what they say about you I think that they're a lot like you. I wish I could have met you." 

He takes a deep breath, drawing it out in a slow exhale that wavers in his mouth. "I hope that you can hear me because I want you to know...I, uh, don't think I'm exactly what you had in mind, if you ever did, but, uhh...I want to make them feel safe and I want to make them laugh after they've had a long day and...I just want to hear them laugh and see them smile, I want those things so much I am terrified by them, but...what I want you to know..."

He pulls a little box out of his pocket, flicking it open to tilt the shiny jewel towards the gravestone's face. "If only you could talk to me, tell me their ring size, eh? Yeah...well, I probably got that wrong, I just...well, I'm not here to ask for permission, they'd kill me for that, but I am here to promise you that I'm going to...I want to be the best damned husband I can be for them. And I... I probably should not be swearing on your grave so I swear on my grave, and if I ever hurt them and there is a God up there you are sitting with, I want you to make him strike me down himself. That is...that is all."

A few days later, you find yourself crying for a very different reason than you're used to.

And in some far-off place, some in-between that is neither here nor there yet not quite nowhere, an old man pulls his green corvette to a stop. He looks at the strange sky. And he smiles.

-

-

-

I don't really believe in a heaven anymore, but if there is one I know you're there. I love you, Papa.

[puppyeared]

!!! i always love seeing doodles of your ocs and reading the tags ab their silly little storys theyre all incredebly deliughtfull even though i cant rember anyones name but everytime the shadow guy and pink puppy show up im like!!! aww hell yeahh shadow guy and pink puppy person this is awsome :]]]

YYOU GUYS…. 🥺🥺

[forever-rogue]

Hii! From Prompt List 1 can u do number 3,51 and 243 w javier peña please ✨

Also i love ur writings so much ⭐

3. "Am I supposed to be scared of you?"

51. "Go on them, tell me. Tell me you don't love me."

243. "Oh my God, you're in love with her!"

Enjoy!

Javier Peña x Fem!Reader ; warnings: language

Javier Masterlist

»»————-　♡　————-««

"Tell me," there was nothing but venom lacing your voice as you stared at Javier. Your face was slick with tears as you tried to keep your lips from trembling. You wanted to break down, gods knew you did, but you weren't about to give him the satisfaction. You would do that as soon as he walked out of your apartment for what would be the last time, "go on then, tell me. Tell me you don't love me."

"Don't do this cariño," the bastard had the audacity to try and call you by your pet name, "you know this is the way. The only way."

"You're such a damn liar," you hissed at him. You should have seen this coming. You should have known. 

You shouldn't have fallen in love with Javier Peña.

"We always knew what we were doing was wrong," it was a meek insistence, hollow and empty and neither of you quite believed it, "it was never supposed to go this far."

"This far? This far?" you wanted to scream, to grab his shoulders and shake him, to knock some sort of sense into him, but instead you just stared at him, eyes glossy with unshed tears, "did you think we would fuck and that’s it? I told you it was never going to be just that. And you never seemed to have a problem with that."

"You need to stop," this time it was more firm and his nostrils flared as he tried to control the hit of rage that had seemed into his bones, "we both knew what this was from the start. It was just sex."

"You're here, in my apartment, lying to my face," you sniffled as you dabbed at your eyes and wished you would wake up to find this was a horrible dream. You wished you'd wake up, wrapped in his arms while he slept soundly, like you had so many other times. You wished, you wished, you wished. But that didn't change the reality of the situation, nor the gravitas of it, "if you can look in my eyes and tell me you don't love me - never loved me - do it. If you can do it, I'll let this go."

"You're being ridiculous," he huffed and rolled his eyes ever so slightly as his hands went to his hips. 

"I'm being ridiculous?" your voice rose up about two octaves as you realized just how hysterical you did sound. But it didn't matter - once Javier had made up his mind, he was a stubborn piece of work. But you refused to let this go, "I'm not the grown man that won't even admit his own feelings. That runs every time something comes up. That shuts out everyone and everything anytime it gets real."

"Maybe you're just thinking too much into this!" and there it was - the fiery temper that he was famous for. It wasn't shocking because it had suddenly jumped out; it was shocking because he'd never raised his voice at you, "maybe you just want to make something out of nothing! It was never anything - it was just sex. Why can't you just accept that?"

"Am I supposed to be scared of you?" you raised your voice and yelled back with just as much as anger and spite as he spit at you, "you're a liar and a coward. You can't even look at me - if you don't love me fucking tell me!"

"I'm not doing this right now," he huffed as stepped over the threshold, shoulders rising and falling in rapid movements as tired to control his anger, "I'm done - whatever we had, its over now."

"Javier," you tried to reach for his hand, but he was quick to pull out of your grasp, causing you to sigh heavily, "don't walk away - not like this."

"There's nothing left to say," he insisted quietly, staring at the floor, rather than daring to look in your eyes, "I'll see you at work and that's that. Everything else is done. Obviously you cannot handle this."

"You're just going to walk away," you were incredulous as a few tears of grief and anger rolled down your cheeks, "fuck you, Javier. I hate you." 

You slammed the door shut before he could say anything else. Tears were heavily pouring down your cheeks and spilling onto the cool slide as you sank to the floor. Small ugly little sobs racked your body as you gave up and in to your pathetic inner, upset self. You loved him, you really, really did. You knew that. 

You knew he loved you too. You knew he was scared. Damn scared. And it was okay - if he would have opened up to you.

»»————-　♡　————-««

“You look like shit,” Steve barely looked up from his coffee and morning review of documents as Javier stormed in, practically slamming himself down in his chair. He groaned and flipped Steve the middle finger before reaching for his cigarettes, effortlessly lighting it up and leaning back, “what happened to you?”

Javier closed his eyes but remained silent, a vain attempt at letting his mind wander too far. He hadn’t slept the night before, mind and thoughts racing over and over with snippets of his conversation with you. Your words had stuck in his mind all night: coward, coward, coward. And you had been right. 

He was a coward; pathetic and scared all because he didn’t want to risk getting hurt. Or hurting you. And in the end he had managed to do both. It was never supposed to go this far, it was never supposed to be anything more than sex, but the lines had become so blurred and so fast, and before he knew - he was in love.

And that terrified the shit out of him. 

So he reacted how he tended to do; to push you away. To isolate himself. It was supposed to be easy, supposed to work. All it had down was leave him with regret eating him up alive. He should have admitted you were right, he should have confessed. If there was anyone worth taking a chance on - it was you. He’d known it was you from the first time you’d had sex it was just...different. Different from every other experience he’d had. And gods, how he’d slowly fallen for all the little things you did, all your little quirks. 

Your smile, that laugh, those eyes that seemed to convey a million emotions at once. Your steadfast stubbornness, the fact that you always called him on his bullshit, how you never backed down from confrontation, how you gave so much to others and asked for so little. How you’d chide him for getting even a papercut, and how you’d love him, even when he didn’t ask you to. How you;d take him in your arms, wordlessly, and give him everything he needed and then some, how you’d chase away his fears and pain. How - 

Everything. 

He was in deep, and when it came down to the wire, he’d run. Like a liar and a coward. 

His eyes snapped open and landed on the desk, the spot you normally occupied and found it empty. A scowl tugged on his features as his brows knitted together, “where is she?”

“Hmm?” Steve looked back up and followed Javi’s line of sight before he shrugged lightly, “I talked to her this morning, said she wasn’t feeling good.”

“Bullshit,” he hissed under his breath, just enough for Steve to hear, “did she say when she’s coming back?”

“I dunno, Javi,” Steve sighed heavily, “she’s a grown woman, if she’s not feeling well, she’s not feeling well. She’ll be back when she’s better. Calm down.”

“Steve-”

“Oh god - you’re in love with her. Aren’t you?” the smirk tugging on his features was undeniable as Javier rolled his eyes but refused to look over, “I knew it - everyone knew it.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” his mouth went dry as he looked at his partner and felt like slamming his head against the wall. Of course. It’s so obvious.

“I mean...it’s just...everyone’s known, Javi,” Steve couldn’t help but laugh at the surprised look on his face, “it’s so obvious. You’re different because of her - for her. You might be the last person to know. Shit...you haven’t told her, have you?”

Javier made a small sound in his throat but otherwise remained silent as he stared at your desk. Not feeling well my ass, he thought to himself before running a hand over his tired face. 

But you didn’t come back the next day. Or the day after that. Or the day after that. Or - 

Shit. He had really messed up. 

You were all he could think about, plaguing his waking and sleeping hours as he tried to figure out what to do. His mind was on you as he sat in the office and smoked cigarette after cigarette and glossed over paperwork. You were in his every thought as he and Steve chased after some of Escobar’s men; so much that he almost slipped up and let them get away. 

By Friday afternoon, he couldn’t handle it any longer. This was ridiculous and he was going to put an end to it all, one way or another.

Javier almost jumped out of his seat, grabbing his leather jacket and half empty pack of cigarettes without a word as he stormed out of the office. Steve barely looked up in time to catch him, his question dying on his tongue as he watched his partner storm out. He didn’t have to ask to know exactly what was going on.

Finally, he thought to himself shaking his head, finally. 

»»————-　♡　————-««

"Open the door," Javier's voice was commanding but it still managed to shake as he rapped his knuckles against the peeling paint of your door, "cariño, I know you're in there…"

And you were. You were curled up on the couch in your pajamas, an empty bottle of wine on the table as an old, cheesy romance movie played in the background. The lights were off and you were tired, but you still couldn't manage to find sleep. 

You'd avoided going into the office for the last couple of days, feigning illness and earning a scoff from the ambassador, but nothing else was said. In the time you'd been in Colombia, you'd never so much as used a single sick day, so they didn't question you. But of course your partners did. Well, one of them. The other had known exactly what was going and it had been eating him up inside, even if he wasn't ready to admit it.

But his little heart to heart with Steve had inspired him - practically shoved him in the right direction. You'd been on his mind rent free since he'd left. Hell - for much longer than that.

"Go away," you managed to croak out before burrowing further into your pillow, feeling a fresh wave of tears spill down your cheeks at his presence. Knowing you almost had him but didn't was heartbreaking, "you made it clear we have nothing, Javier.”

“Open the damn door,” there was a tone in his voice that you hadn’t heard before - was that...desperation? Javier paused and sighed heavily, “please. I-I...fuck, I fucked up.”

“If you’re going to play some sort of cruel joke, save your breath,” you huffed, “like you said, we are nothing. We’ll be work partners and that’s it.”

There was a beat of silence and a part of you thought he left, you were almost relieved at the thought. But before you knew it, you heard the keys jingling in the lock and the door opened; you cursed yourself for giving him a spare set. Either way, he probably could have figured out how to get in anyways. He just couldn’t let it go.

“Cariño,” he came and swiftly made his way over to you, frowning when he saw you all curled up and the discarded mess around you, "I-"

"Go away, Javi," it was a pathetic plea as you glanced up at him. His heart felt it was going to shatter and break at the sight of your red, glossy eyes as you sniffled at him, "haven't you done enough? Or should I be apologizing for having feelings and being honest about them?"

"I should be begging you for forgiveness," he dropped to his knees beside you, a hand tentatively reaching out to you, as he tried to see if you would pull away. Despite wanting to, instead wishing you could yell and scream, you stay rooted in position as he gently pushed your hair out of your hair. He brushed his thumb gently over your cheek as your eyes fluttered closed at the familiar touch, "I am so sorry."

"Sorry for what?" your brow furrowed at his words, "you made yourself very clear."

"I fucked up - you're right. I am a liar and a coward," he confessed as your eyes snapped back open to meet his. They were gentle, softened in the corners with the crinkles that you adored so much, "I realized I had feelings and I panicked. I shut you out and hurt you."

"My head hurts, Javier," you sighed slightly, "just get to the point."

"I love you," he admitted and suddenly it felt your heart had dropped into your stomach as you stared at him. He was sure you must have heard the wild beating of his heart as he tried to anticipate your reaction, "I-I'm in love with you."

"If this is your idea of a joke," you moved his hand away and sat up, trying to prepare yourself for any possibility, "its even more fucked up than just breaking my heart. I knew what this started this and I should have stopped it when I started to catch feelings but I-"

But Javier didn't let you say anything further. Instead, he cut you off by crashing his lips onto yours and kissing you deeply - slowly and with meaning. It was an easy dance, one you'd done hundreds of times before. But this time just felt...different.

His arms wrapped around your waist as he pulled you close, and yours wound around his neck. Effortless and easy, just like everything with him was. It was anything frenzied or hurried, but slow and gentle as he tried to convey his every thought and feeling through his touch. He thought his heart might burst when he felt your smile whilst his lips, as you carded a hand through his dark locks.

Only when you were both breathless and drunk off of each other did you pull apart. He stared at you, his gaze soft as you grabbed his face and delicately cradled it before pressing another kiss to his lips.

"I hope this means what I think it means or I'm going to have to murder you," you whispered against his lips, as his own tugged into a smile, "because I am in love you and I don't know if I can ever change that."

"It means I'm an idiot," he admitted, "a cowardly fool that ran when things got real - although they were always real. Its obvious, isn't it? I just never realized."

"That's because you gave a thick skull, Peña," you gently tapped a knuckle against the side of his head, "and you need to learn to be more open - with me anyway. You don't have to be afraid, Javi. Not with me; I'm not going anywhere, you know that. I know you - the real you - and nothing about you scares me or whatever you think it is. I love you and that means every little bit of you."

"I…" he paused for a moment, inhaling and exhaling slowly as your words washed over him. His heart had never felt warmer or more light as he realized the immense weight your words held. He closed his eyes and nodded, gently pressing his forehead against yours, "I love you. Fully and completely cariño. Even if I am an idiot."

"My idiot," you promised softly, "just talk to me next time, okay? Don't run and hide - stay with me. It'll be okay, you will always have me."

"Fuck," he whispered as he pulled you into his arms and wrapped you up in the tightest hug possible, "I'm sorry - so sorry. I love you."

"I love you, Javier," you whispered, "stay with me?"

"Always."

»»————-　♡　————-««

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[holylulusworld]

A family man

Summary: What happens when Steve is not happy with his decisions?

Pairing: Steve Rogers x fem!reader, Sam x Reader (platonic), Bucky x Reader (platonic)

Characters: Wanda Maximoff, Clint Barton

Warnings: angst, language, pregnant reader, heartbreak, abandonment, Daddy!Steve, angry Sam (yes, he can get angry too), Sam & Bucky being good friends, fluff

Catch up here: 

Part 1 - No, you won’t Part 2 - Some kind of love

Divider by @writeyourmindaway​

“Goodbye, Steve Grant Rogers, my love, my heart, my everything…”

It’s a new beginning for you. You left your old life behind to start a new one.

When you sit on your front porch, watching the sunset you run one hand over your belly. “Only four months left, baby girl,” you whisper holding back the tears. “One day I’ll tell you about your father, the hero who saved the world more than once.”

“Y/N,” Sam watches you stare into the distance as you do so often lately. “We should talk about a few things. Bucky and I need to tell you something.”

“You’re going to marry,” you tease, giving Sam a wink. “We all know it’s a matter of time,” Sam sits next to you, laughing at your words. “You’re a good team.”

“A great one,” Sam exclaims. He slings one arm around your shoulders to offer comfort. “Buck and I will be on a mission for two or three weeks. Wanda will come around and check on you to make sure you’ve got all you need.”

“I’m a grown woman, you know,” Bucky nods, still, he’s worried to leave you alone. It’s the first time since Steve left that he and Sam can’t be around. “I depended on you way too long. We are friends, and I appreciate all you have done for me as Steve…,” your voice cracks and you need to wipe a few tears away.

“Nothing will change, doll. Sam and I will come around as often as we can. While we are away, Wanda will take over,” Bucky smirks when you roll your eyes. “Don’t talk back, Y/N. We are family, this means we will suffocate you with love…”

The moment Steve stepped onto the platform and didn’t see you he knew; just knew he made the wrong decision. 

Whilst the quantum realm particles sent him back in time, all he could think about was the sadness in your eyes when you stood your ground against him.

Steve knew you played a role. He knew that you cried yourself to sleep that night, but he didn’t find it in him to crawl back to you.

Instead, he stepped onto the platform the next day, straightened his back, and looked his friends straight in the eyes.

Sam held his gaze but Bucky, well Steve’s oldest friend, the one he promised ‘till the end of the line’, looked away.

The world he found on the other side of time isn’t the one he wanted to live in, but Steve had no other choice – right? He burned all the bridges days ago, lost the woman who always loved him unconditionally for a dream.

“I can’t stay, Peggy,” Steve tried for six months to adapt to a life with Peggy, but he soon realized, there is no love on both ends. 

Steve stuffs his hands into the pockets of his suit, shuffling on his feet as he feels something dig into the palm of his hand. Waking up to reality is cold, hard, and heartbreaking. Even worse when you find a positive pregnancy test in the pocket of your suit. 

With shaking fingers Steve looks at the test in his hands, choking out a sob.

“How?” he whispers, wishing he never left you. “Doll—oh god, no. You’re all alone, my love.”

Steve doesn’t know Bucky hid the test he stole from your bin to make his best friend see – someone is relying on him. 

“You’ve got to go, Steven,” Peggy whispers, gently cupping Steve’s cheek. “I know you believed we belong together, I did so too. But,” Steve gives Peggy a cracked smile, nodding silently. “If she’s with your child, you can’t leave her, Steve. You should’ve never left her for me.”

“I know, Peggy. I was a fool believing that I belong anywhere but by her side. I want to be a father,” Steve chokes out. “I still got time left.”

“Where do you want me to put this?” Wanda watches you place a picture frame onto one of the shelves at the nursery. “That’s one of Steve and you,” she whispers, not missing your pained expression.

“He’s her father, Wanda,” you swallow the lump in your throat, looking at a framed ultrasound picture. “One day my baby girl will ask me about her father, and I want her to know about him. He left me, not her. I was not enough, not my girl.”

“Y/N don’t say things like that,” Wanda watches you place another picture frame onto the shelf you nod, knowing it’s the ugly truth. “Steve didn’t know what he got when he had it.”

“Do you think I should get a dog?” you look around the room, watching Wanda hold back the words stuck on the back of her tongue. “Don’t, Wanda. I know you want to assure me I was enough, but I wasn’t. If not, Steve would be here.”

“A dog would be great. I always wanted to have one,” Wanda smiles when you tell her you grew up with dogs. “Aw, I’m jealous, Y/N.”

“Don’t be,” you laugh. “Most of the time they chased after me and stole my food,” you grin, remembering your dogs. 

“Fuck,” Clint snickers at Sam’s outburst. “You’ve got to be shitting me, Steve! You left! Six months ago, you left your girl and now you are back in town and ask me about her whereabouts!”

“Sam let Steve explain why he’s back,” Bucky eyes his friend warily, knowing he must’ve found the pregnancy test. “Why did you come back, Stevie?”

“I regretted my decision the moment I heard Y/N close the door behind her. I was just too stubborn to admit that I can’t be without her,” Steve huffs. “I tried to make things work with Peggy but had to admit, she’s not the woman on my mind.”

“Great for you,” Sam is not amused. “I mean, you left Y/N six months ago for another woman. Now you come back here and intend to do what?”

“Get my girl back and raise my child with her,” Steve puffs his chest when he gets the pregnancy test out of his pocket. “Something tells me that a friend wanted me to know I am going to be a father.”

“It was for sure not me,” storming out of the room Sam slams the door shut. “Y/N deserves better…”

“You must understand, it was Sam helping Y/N to keep ongoing. He was the one driving her to the first ultrasound as I was away on yet another mission. Sam was the one seeing your baby first,” Bucky huffs. “I thought you would find the test before you leave. I had hoped you would change your mind not come back months later…”

“I had to give Peggy and me a chance, Buck,” Steve doesn’t believe his own words. “Shit, no. Maybe I was just afraid to come back and find Y/N in another man’s arms. I didn’t think that she’s pregnant with my child.”

“I mean,” Bucky huffs. “You are adults, had sex, unprotected if I recall right according to your naughty confessions and you wonder she got pregnant?”

“That’s not what I mean, Bucky…”

“I like the colors,” Sam looks around your almost finished nursery. Wanda did a great job,” you nod, looking at the kittens Wanda painted on one of the walls. “The kittens are cute.”

“Wanda’s idea. The tree and the family were my ideas,” you painted a family of bears under a tree. They are having a picnic. Sam smiles when he sees a ladybug sits on the little bear's nose. “What do you think Sam?”

“Hmm…” you watch Sam nervously chewing on his lower lip, not meeting your gaze. He seems to hide something from you. “We need to talk, Y/N.”

“Is it Bucky? Did he get hurt? Or one of the others? Sam?” Wanda’s eyes widen and she grasps for your hand when Sam tries to tell you Steve is back. “Sam, just tell me what’s going on.”

“He’s back,” Sam chokes out. You blink a few times in confusion, look at Sam for confirmation before your legs are about to give in. “Shit, Y/N.” Sam catches your fall before you can hit the floor. “Wanda, a chair and a glass of water.”

“Y/N, no…”

“Is this a joke, Sam? This isn’t funny, you know,” you sniffle. Wanda offers you a glass of water whilst Sam tries to calm you. “I finally adapted to a life without Steve. He can’t just come around after he lived a life with Peggy to check on me. I don’t want to see the ‘old’ Steve.”

“That’s not what I meant, Y/N,” Sam kneels next to you, gently squeezing your right hand. He looks up at you, giving you a soft smile. “He came back.”

“I don’t understand, Sam. Why would he come back? It’s not as if anything he wants waits in our time. Peggy is centuries away, just like the other Bucky,” Wanda watches you slump into yourself, not wanting anyone to see you are still  heartbroken. “What does he want?”

“I am afraid he wants you,” Sam whispers, hand gently holding yours. “I told him to fuck off or something.” you laugh, squeezing Sam’s hand. He barely curses but if he does, Sam looks adorable. “I mean it, Y/N. You don’t have to see him.”

“Doll,” Steve sighs when you don’t open the door. Sam and Wanda guarded your house like hawks, didn’t let Steve get even close to your new home for over a week. 

Today, Sam had to go on a mission and Wanda went for a grocery run so Steve took the opportunity and sneaked toward your house the moment Wanda left.

“Please, baby girl. I…I need to talk to you.”

“Why?” weakly you press the palms of your hands against the door. “I tried to move on and almost didn’t break down anymore only for you to come here and ruin my life once again.”

“Y/N, please. I know I fucked up, okay. Leaving you for a woman I barely knew was cruel, stupid, and the worst thing I ever did in my life. Please, let me at least see your face,” Steve begs, knocking at your door. “Please, doll.”

“You don’t deserve to see me,” you choke on your words when you turn your back toward the door, resting your back against the cool wood. “I don’t know why you came here, Steve. I am not enough…never was.”

“No, Y/N. I was never enough. I am a weak and pathetic coward, doll. It was me not deserving you but, please open the door,” your hands shake when you turn around to unlock the door. You take a deep breath before you face the man leaving you behind.

“What do you want, Steve? I don’t think there is anything I can offer,” you shriek when Steve kneels to wrap his arms around your waist. He peppers soft kisses to your swollen belly, sniffling your name repeatedly. “Steve…”

“Sam didn’t let me come here. Wanda was the same,” he pants, face nuzzling your belly. “Please, I want to be a better man for you. I will give the shield to Sam. From now on I’ll do anything to be the man you deserve. I want to be a family man,” you don’t know what to do as Steve is too strong for you to fend him off.

“Why now? When you left you were sure that you want to spend your life with Peggy, not me,” you sniffle, wiping a few tears off your cheeks. “Is it because you got to know I’m pregnant? Does Captain America feel responsible for the poor girl he impregnated? Is it your guilty conscience telling you to come here and take care of the disposed of girl you left behind?”

“Oh-Y/N,” Steve sighs, finally looking up at you. “I should have never left you, doll. I hurt you so deeply that you believe you never meant the world to me. I am so sorry, baby girl,” he whispers, getting up to wrap his arms around you.

Steve buries his face into your hair, inhales your scent deeply. He runs one hand over your back to soothe you when you start to cry. 

“I love you so much, doll. How can I explain to you that I don’t know why I left you for Peggy? I don’t know how I could do so, but I regretted my decision the moment you closed the door behind you. I should’ve stayed but I was too blinded by my past to see my present.”

“You will leave again,” sobbing you hide your face in Steve’s chest. I was at my apartment a few days ago. I couldn’t forget about the shirt on the floor and your pillow. I…I sleep with your pillow to smell your cologne.”

“Sweetheart,” Steve’s heart breaks when you start to shake in his arms. “I hate myself for hurting you. I swear, I left to come here before I even knew you are pregnant. I told Peggy we will never work out. I never had sex with her.”

“Steve,” Sam storms into the house, Wanda, and Bucky hot on his heels as you hold tight onto Steve for dear life. “I told you to leave Y/N alone! Can you not for once think about someone else than yourself?”

“Sam,” Bucky places one hand onto Sam’s shoulder to calm his friend. “Look,” Bucky whispers, pointing toward you in Steve’s arms. “Let them talk things out. We can still kick Steve out when Y/N tells us so. It’s on her to decide if she wants to give him a second chance or not…”

Five years later...

“Daddy, daddy!” your daughter runs after Bucky, laughing as he acts as if he’s scared. “Look, I hunt Uncle Bucky and he’s scared,” Steve laughs watching Natasha Sofia run after his friend. “I bet I can catch Uncle Sammy too.”

“I know you can, sweetheart,” you smile, watching your five-year-old daughter chase after your friends. Sam runs slower to make sure Natasha can catch him, faking he’s too slow to run away. “Just don’t stumble again, Nat.”

“I won’t mommy! Daddy showed me how to run faster than Uncle Sam,” Sam makes a face, looking at Steve. “To your left, Uncle Sammy…” Natasha squeals, finally catching up with Sam.

“How do you feel, doll?” Steve runs one hand over your huge belly, humming as you close your eyes to enjoy his touch.

“How are Sam jr. and Bucky jr.?” Bucky asks. “Can we finally decide on a name? “Maybe we can name both after me.”

“I want one to wear my name,” Sam interjects. “Now let Y/N rest a bit before she agrees to name both after me.”

“Hey! I never agreed to name my boys after one of you,” pointing toward both men you narrow your eyes. 

“We can make more and name them after our friends,” grinning Steve looks at you, something dirty in mind. “Just saying, we can always have more kids.”

“You’re lucky if I ever let you touch me again.” you huff. “I got one daughter chasing after our friends. A baby boy sleeping in his crib and two baby boys in my belly.”

“Doll,” your husband grins, hands running over your baby bump again. “I can’t help myself; I love seeing you full of my babies.” Steve whispers something dirty into your ear, making you giggle. “I’ll check on Steve jr. and you can sit here to enjoy our baby girl’s birthday and I’ll be right back.”

Watching Steve walk into your house you smile. Over the last five years, he showed you that he deserved a second chance. 

The first months after he came back were difficult to you. You needed time to adjust to life with Steve being around again. 

“He changed for you,” Bucky bounces your daughter on his leg, smiling as his friend carries your baby boy out of the house, smiling widely. 

“I know. He became a family man for me…”

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[junjungsunwoo]

I can’t fall in love without you.

-> Sunwoo x reader

-> slight fluff, heavy(ish) angst

-> 1.7k (went a little crazy with this sorry not sorry.)

-> TW! Talks about a disease, major character death, lots of sadness and crying

-> @geniejunn @kvydence

-> @knet-bakery @k-dinernet @tbznetwork @foreverkpop-net @kpop-script

-> Please note that I am in NO WAY a professional in ANY field of medicine so please, off something sounds wrong to you, I’m sorry! 😭 also, rushed this once again during midnight, so it might be a bit messy! I hope it’s still good though- had a good cry writing this 💔

-> written for @yuta-senpai’s request for the tittle “I can’t fall in love without you” with the dialogue “please don’t fall in love without me” and the genre of angst. I hope you like this Sierra! I put lots of effort into this! Sorry if you don’t like it tho

-> main masterlist | the boyz masterlist

Laying down on your bed, you keep your small grip on Sunwoo’s hands not wanting to let go. 

Never did you think you would be in this situation. You were always known as a very healthy and happy person so what happened that made you this way? Maybe this was God punishing you for being selfish for wanting Sunwoo all to yourself.

As you laid there helplessly with Sunwoo beside you quietly rubbing the back of your hands with his thumb, you couldn’t help but think back to when everything was okay- when you were still kids. You close your eyes and began to take deep breaths you begin to take a trip down your memory lane.

It didn’t take long before you started to cling onto him and following him where ever he goes. Sunwoo never minded and he had always thought it was super cute.

It didn’t take long before you started to cling onto him and following him where ever he goes. Sunwoo never minded and he had always thought it was super cute.

It didn’t take long before you started to cling onto him and following him where ever he goes. Sunwoo never minded and he had always thought it was super cute.

Every adult that saw you both would always compliment you two, saying how cute you’d look like a couple. Their words stuck to you as you soon started to develop more and more feelings for him, and before you knew it- you were in love.

Your best friend, your soulmate- you were in love with him. You knew all of his flaws and you were there when he was at his lowest, and yet you still loved him with your whole heart.

You don’t remember exactly when you started to have feelings for him, but all you know is that you will never tell him. Sunwoo could never know about your feelings- he can’t. 

You were too scared that you would lose him when you confess, and losing him is like losing a part of you. Sunwoo was your other half- without him you would feel lost.

Your memories bring you back to the last day of kindergarten. It was a day you could remember clearly as you were sure this was the day you started having feelings for Sunwoo.

It was a bright and sunny day, the sky was blue, and laughter could be heard everywhere in the school. It was that day where a boy had called you ugly and told you that no one would ever want to have a girlfriend like you.

You had cried a lot that day- hiding under the big tree in one of the corners of the garden sniffing and sobbing quietly when Sunwoo came out of nowhere with candies in his hands. He opened the package of your favorite candy before he motioned you to open your mouth and putting it into your mouth.

“Don’t listen to that big bully!” He exclaimed as he took a seat beside you. “I think you are suuuuuper pretty!” He beams a smile at you.

“Re-really?” You asked him trying to contain your sniffs and tears. 

“Of course! Other than my mommy, you are the most pretty girl I know!” He takes your hands in his, before gripping them tightly.

“You really think so?” You asked him as he gave you a firm nod. “But-but what if no one likes me like what he said? Then-then I’ll be lonely!” Tears begin to gather up in your eyes again, and Sunwoo panics, trying to stop you from crying.

“How about this?” He begins as you put your focus on him. “We’ll marry each other once we are old enough! Then we won’t have to be lonely!” He beams at you as a blush creeps onto your face unconsciously. 

“You promise?” You asked him, your eyes big and wide staring at him with wonder in your eyes.

Sunwoo coos at them before holding up his hand, his pinky extended out.

“I promise!” He giggles as the smile never dropping once.

“Then-then,” you begin staring at his hands in curiosity before looking up and staring into his eyes. “can-can you promise that you won’t fall in love without me?” Your eyes sparkle in anticipation.

Sunwoo giggles before he forcefully hooks your pinky with his before sealing with your thumbs.

“I promise!” 

You get snapped back into reality from your memories as it begins to feel more and more difficult to breathe. You couldn’t hear anything clearly, everything sounded as if your head was underwater. You open your eyes slowly to find that you were still faced with the white walls of the hospital. 

You look around trying to see if anyone was in the room with you. You turn your head slowly to your left only to see Sunwoo sobbing quietly while his hands hold on to yours tightly. 

Your hearing begins to slightly clear up as you finally understand what your doctor was talking about.

You didn’t have much time left.

You could feel it as you felt as heavy as a rock, not being able to move at all. You could barely keep your eyes open.

It felt like it was only yesterday when you had found out about this disease in you. At first, you were so confident that you could get over it as you were still really young, but when more and more time pass and you feel weaker and weaker, it felt as if death was just knocking on the door every day just waiting for you to give in to your death.

Beginning to tear up, you try to move your fingers slightly. Sunwoo looks up in shock as he feels the slight movements from your fingers as he tries to put on a small smile to cheer you up.

He goes up to you to caress your hair softly while trying to contain his sniffles and his tear.

“Everything will be okay,” he continues to stroke your head, “I promise.” His voice cracks in the end as he couldn’t help but break down again.

“I’m...sorry.” You whisper out, your voice barely audible. “I’m sorry...I can’t keep...our promise.” You feel your own tears begin to slide down the side of your face. 

Sunwoo wipes the tears away as his own begins to fall. He tries his hardest to keep his smile going as he can hear his own heart starting to break.

“Do...do you remember our...promise? Back in Kindergarten?” You asked him slowly taking deep breaths in between words. Breathing and talking starting to get more and more difficult. Sunwoo mods quickly, his left hand still holding onto your hands tightly and his right hand still caressing your head.

“I...I take it back.” You wheeze out before taking in a big breath of air and continuing. “Go fall in love without me…be happy...forget about me,” more tears run down your face as Sunwoo finally lets out uncontrollable loud sobs.

“Please-“ he begs you, “please don’t leave me- I-I can’t fall in love without you!” He grabs your hand and puts it to his mouth, kissing you on the back of the hand as he begs and begs you to stay.

“I’m sorry...for wasting your time for all...these years.” You continue as your eyes begin to feel heavy.

“I’m sorry I never...told you that I’m...really thankful for having you...here.” You take a deep breath.

“I’m sorry...I never told you that…” you take another deep breath, your eyes slowly closing despite all your efforts to keep them open.

“I love you.” Your hands slip from his grip and you stop breathing. A single, lonely tear runs down your cheek as you finally close your eyes, never to open them again.

Sunwoo freezes as he slowly takes in the situation. His head was spinning as your heart monitor displayed the flat line and doctors and nurses rush him out of the way to give you defibrillation- sending shocks to your still-warm body, and yet- nothing happens. Silence filled the room as the sound from the heart monitor echoed in the room.

“I'm sorry for your lost.” He tells your parents as they sob in each other’s arms. “But we tried our best.” He then hurried out of the room with the other nurses following after him.

Tears began to fall down uncontrollably as Sunwoo finally get a grasp on the situation.

You were gone.

You are really gone.

Sunwoo felt as if the sun in his life was taken away from him. He felt cold and sad as if there was nothing left in the world that could warm him up and make him happy again.

Memories of all the time he spent with you all replayed in his mind. He could never forget even a single memory made with you. You were his best friend, his soulmate, his other half- you were his everything in this cold world, and now that you were gone, Sunwoo feels as if there would be no more good in the world.

Waking up to your peaceful body, Sunwoo carefully touches you, treating you as if you were some porcelain doll. He takes your left hand and puts it to his face only to find it cold and stiff- unlike your usual hands that were always warm and soft.

He closes his eyes as he tries to imagine you smiling at him again and he feels another wave of emotions hit him. Opening his eyes he carcasses your hair once again before removing the oxygen mask from your face. 

Placing a gentle kiss on your forehead he looks at your face once again before placing a delicate peck on your cold lips. He wipes your now dried tears off your face as his own tears begin to fall into you.

Taking in a small breath, Sunwoo let out a small whisper- as if the thing he was about to say was for the two of you and the two of you only. 

Trying to contain his sobs his bites his lips as he closed his eyes and lays his forehead against yours.

“I love you too.” He gently whispers to you, although you will never be able to hear his words. “So much…” he sobs loudly and painfully. Anyone that hears him can feel their own hearts breaking.

“I love you.” 

@ junjungsunwoo, all rights reserved.

[2-cute-4-school]

NCT Dream reaction to you getting your wisdom teeth removed

Mark

babysitting the dreamies is part of his daily job so he thinks ‘how hard can it be to take care of you for a few hours pffft’

he’s never regretted underestimating you so bad in his entire life ◑.◑

you’re not just a nightmare

you’re THE ULTIMATE NIGHTMARE

he was so embarrassed when he had to gently drag you out of the dentist’s office while you were crying cuz

“mY TOOTH!! mark, i lost my tooth, what am i gonna do?!?! i should have put a leash on it, i knew it!!!! now it’s gone and it’s all my fault!!!!” (˚ ˃̣̣̥⌓˂̣̣̥ )

*ugly sobbing* *mark awkwardly patting your back while pulling you away from the scrutinizing glares of a few karens in the waiting room*

“mark. i didn’t even get to name it!!!”

poor bby cheetah mark is SO lost

“baby, hey, don’t cry! we’ll uh…. i’ll get you a new one!” ヾ(ﾟДﾟ;ヾ)

you look up with your glassy eyes and your right cheek chubbier than your left from the cotton lodged where your tooth used to be, your bottom lip trembling oh so cutely 

and mark just…stops functioning for a moment because

‘HOW CAN ANYONE BE SO CUTE BUT SUCH A PAIN IN THE ASS AT THE SAME TIME IT’S NOT FAIR !!??!?!?’

“ rweally? would you really do that for me, markie?” (◞‸◟；)

“ASFKSFRDACGCS YES LOML ABSOLUTELY ANYTHING JUST SAY THE WORD AND I’LL BRING THE MOON TO YOUR FEET YOU PRECIOUS LIL BABY” ⊂（♡⌂♡）⊃

 and he still insists he’s not 120% whipped for you can you believe it

he ends up piggybacking you all the way back home because your giggles were just too cute for him to resist so he can’t even get tired with how happy he is to witness you so carefree and joyful

and his heart just melts when you leave a huuuge kith with the loudest *MWAH* ever on his cheek and you nuzzle your nose in the crook of his neck that’s like the fatal combination of cute acts ʚ♡⃛ɞ(ू•ᴗ•ू❁)

in conclusion : this man just adores you with every bit of his heart :((((

Renjun

probably asked kun to pick you both up from the dentist 

you’re just too much for him smh

you’re cute and all but renjun is a tired uncle

so you’re both in the backseat with kun as your driver and it’s silent

renjun just knows something is wrong there’s no way you’re so calm 

but you’re just staring at him like ◎_◎

“uh..babe, you alright?”

silence and then *GASP*

renjun just knows he’s about to facepalm himself into another dimension when you grip his cheeks in both hands

“you’re a fAIRY!!!!!!!” (*ﾟﾛﾟ)

*sigh* *muffled words* “y/n let’s calm down and just-”

he doesn’t get another word out before you shove his face in your lap and literally raise his shirt up to the nape of his neck

damn beach you know what you want huh go off

“where are they???!!?!?! where are you hiding them you impostor??!!!?”

and then you start slapping his back

“ow ow OW, Y/N WTF ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?? STOP !!”

“YOUR WINGS!!! WHERE ARE YOUR FRICKIN’ WINGS ?!?!?” (╬ Ò ‸ Ó)

renjun is this 👌 close to knocking you out for good with a karate chop

so he just pushes you off and straps you to your seat with a second safety belt as he huffs under his breath

“i can’t guarantee you’ll live to see next week” (⊙_◎)

kun watching in the rear mirror like （͡°͜ʖ͡°）

“you know what? i’d really eat some chicken wings right now!! jun, let’s go get chicken wings!!!” ⊂((・▽・))⊃

he’s surprised you even remember his name

but you eventually exhaust yourself and pass out in the backseat of the car so renjun and kun drag you to bed 

and renjun just tucks you in like the soft loving boyfriend that he is

and he just stares at you fondly and smooches you all over your face cuz

“how tf can you be so cute, you lil overexcited evil? you’re like the cutest thing in the world and it just!!!not!!!fair!!!!!” (♡ ‸ ♡ )

so even though he complains about you a lot, he’d sell his kidney just to see his lil cute bub happy i’m so soft :((((

Lee Jeno

“let’s go to the playground!!”

“y/n, no, let’s go home and put some ice on that cheek”

“but baaaabe i wanna go one the swing” ( ´•̥̥̥ω•̥̥̥` )

“then we’ll have to ice both cheeks”

“what did ya say???!!?!”

so jeno’s headache only worsened once you both arrived home with no prior stop to the playground

and as much as he loves you he also wants to bang his head against a wall and end his suffering yay o((*^▽^*))o

“just stay still for a second please, i’m really trying to tie this thing properly around your head”

you’re just so restless and jeno is just so done

“does it hurt?”

“ywes, my heart hurts because my own boyfriend doesn’t love me!!!”

“y/n, we already had this conversation, now just-”

“i just wanted a swing!!!” *bursts into tears* *jeno sighs half of his soul out* ଽ (৺ੋ ௦ ৺ੋ )৴

so jeno sits down beside you and pulls you into his lap gently, rocking you back and forth in an attempt to soothe your sobs jeno best boyfriend no cap

“there there, baby, we can’t go out-” *sobs intensify* “BUT i promise i’ll get you a swing right here if you let me take care of you first”

you leech yourself onto jeno’s sleeve and wipe your tears on his shirt but he doesn’t seem to mind the wet patch left on the material as he watches you with that soft look of his (´-ω-`)

so you let him patch you up after his reassurance and after he just pats your head affectionately and motions for you to stand up

and this man just flexes his arms and nudges you to latch on

that’s how jeno ends up with a squealing you as you swing back and forth with your fingers gripping his arm ╰(✧∇✧╰)

Lee Haechan

you want to pretty him up

because “since my left cheek looks like it’s stuffed with a tennis ball, i can’t carry the visuals in this relationship for a while, so i need to hand the responsibility over to you”

“who even said you’re the one carrying the visuals” ℃ↂ_ↂ

“oh honey you’re only now realizing?”

(╬☉д⊙)⊰⊹ฺ

he blames the anesthesia for your severe accusations

but the only way to shut you up is give in to your wishes

so that’s how he found himself seated down on the carpet of your home with your legs draped over his and your totally professional make up applied over his face

“i look like a clown”

“not even make up can cover your true identity, hyuck”

deep breaths, donghyuck, in and out, take it easy (◎ω◎*)

“any preferences for the nail polish color?”

“to match my soul”

“so hot pink” o(≧∇≦o)

*poker face* “you know i could obliviate you if i wanted to clown you”

*pout that hurts hyuck’s lil heart* “but you wouldn’t do that to your hurting baby, would you” *blinks rapidly with puppy eyes*

“you bet i would” (no he wouldn’t you’re just too cute and he loves you too much) *totally not whipped (♥ω♥*)*

painting his nails is the hugest struggle in your entire life

“WHY TF ARE THEY SO SHORT, ARE THEY TAKING AFTER YOU”

on second thought, mercy is no longer available for you

“hyuck, you should tape your fingers so you won’t bite your nails like a preschooler anymore”

“i’ll tape your mouth shut, that’s what i’ll tape” *_*

“hUH???!?!!?”  (*ﾟﾛﾟ)

Na Jaemin

“okay jisung is an easy task compared to you right now”

even though this man is used to being the mom of the group

he’s still most likely in disbelief watching his otherwise angel flap around like a headless chicken 

but you’re even cutter with your swollen cheek so he forgives you (︶▽︶)

“hey, jaem, did you know i’m closely related to snails??”

“entertain me” (∩_∩)

“they can sleep for years at once. that’s like my main talent.”

“it would be great for me if you’d put this talent of yours to work now”

jaemin ends up sprawled over the couch and watching dramas like a tired mom of 3 hyperactive children with you curled up at his side playing games on his phone

*hiccup*

jaemin’s brain before he even registered the sound : something’s wrong

“y/n baby?” (｡•́︿•̀｡)

*hiccup* *sniffle* *hiccup* 

jaemin’s overprotective instincts kicked in ಠ╭╮ಠ

he knocks the phone out of the way and swings your legs over his lap to cradle you against his chest and hush you with the gentlest coos while rubbing your back up and down softly

“what happened, my love? does it hurt? tell nana what’s wrong and he’ll get rid in a second of what dared hurt his precious baby” just imagine this man this would be like the peak of my life  🥺

so in between your boyfriend’s comforting whispers and your harsh breaths of air you managed to let out a few words

“e-elephants, nana”

he already knows the biggest facepalm is coming his way -_-

“tHEy CAn’T jUmP, tHE poOR ELephANTs”

(ノ-_-)ノ~┻━┻

he just sighs and continues rocking you in his arms until you doze off, slumped on his chest, your head cushioned by his shoulder

he softly shakes his head at you and lays a butterfly kiss on your forehead

“i would make elephants jump just for you, my cute big baby” ♡♡(￫ε￩*)

Zhong Chenle

he halfway panics at the way you act

you’re usually the one who takes care of him so your childish act that surfaced because of the anesthesia took him by surprise

“dude they brainwashed y/n” (ﾉ｀□´)ﾉ

once you start babbling to him about the end of the rainbow and the elf that awaits there with a pot full of golden coins he knew you lost it

calls renjun

“hyung i’m sorry for saying you’re batshit crazy with your conspiracies, but aliens kidnapped y/n”

*muffled voices on the other side*

“NO, I’M NOT DRUNK!! they brainwashed y/n or even worse… returned a cheap copy of them”

renjun probably just tells him to put you to sleep and advises chenle to do the same with himself -_-

so chenle just approaches you very carefully, his voice barely above a whisper

“hey, babe, aren’t you tired?”

“actually no, how about a walk in the park???”

“idk y/n, it doesn’t seem like the best idea”

“PLEASE”  🥺

“THIS IS THE BEST IDEA OF THE YEAR BABY!!!11!!”

this man is royally whipped for you so he takes you to the nearest park and keeps a careful watch on you as you bend down to pet every dog that passes by ⊂((・▽・))⊃

while he would do anything for you, he’s very panicky about your safety so he has to hold your hand the entire time and you’re not allowed to leave his side for even a second overprotective boyfriend check

mid walk you take a break on a bench and you lean your head on cheble’s shoulder before muttering sleepily

“lele, i’m tired, imma take a nap”

“are you serious rn” (ಠ_ಠ)

but you’re already a goner and chenle is left fuming by himself

despite his annoyance he still adjusts you so he can piggyback you home and hums songs softly every time you stir (灬♥ω♥灬)

you’ll have to baby him an entire week to pay him back

Park Jisung

this boy is actually quite pleased

because for once he can take care of you and not the other way around without any complaints coming from you

so you both end up curled into each other under a blanket while watching the Frozen movies :((((((((

and for once he ends up watching you more than he watches the movie because you’re so cute reciting all of Olaf’s lines ꒰˘̩̩̩⌣˘̩̩̩๑꒱

but the fun can only last for so long

and when your mouth starts feeling ‘funny’ jisung’s mind goes haywire

“sung, i’m gonna die”

panic panic PANIC (ｼ;ﾟДﾟ)ｼ

“they poisoned you didn’t they??? i knew it!! i knew dentists are evil, how am i gonna explain i let crazy doctors perform dark magic on you???!!?!?” no offense to dentists y’all are life savers

so you have at least 2 ice packs and a bag of frozen peas clutched against your cheek and you swear you’re about to die from frostbite rather than the weird feeling coming from your teeth 

and then jisung wraps you in a mountain of blankets cuz ‘we can’t have you catching a cold now too’ as if sweating your ass off is gonna fight off the numbing cold on your face  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

but babie is confused a tad lot bit scared for both his and your life

and you’re kinda very dazed so comforting him isn’t really in your agenda

he probably worries within an inch of his life ヾ( ๑´д`๑)ﾂ

too afraid to let you fall asleep just in case

so every time you doz off sweet cutie jisung just kithes you (๑°꒵°๑)･*♡

and you wake up just to kiss back your cute boyfriend

and he just chuckles and blows raspberries on your neck man jisung would be such a cute whipped boyfriend

but he ends up asleep next to you with his face buried in your hair and arms tightly wrapped around you cocooning you close to himself ah i’m getting soft again ♡(㋭ ਊ ㋲)♡

[arvinsescape]

The Princess and the Guard.

A/N: I am so sorry that this took me so long to update, I promise I will update more regularly from now on!! I hope you all enjoy!

This series is not historically accurate and is not intended to be so please bare that in mind when you are reading, I am no real expert on how royalty works (even if I am from England).

This series will contain misogynistic language and views, violence, death and nsfw content. I will always put the relevant warnings into each chapter!

Teaser, Chapter one, Chapter two, Chapter three, Chapter four.

Warnings: Language, mentions of sex, bad relationship with mum (abusive).

W/C: 2.7K

Chapter four:

You’d felt Tom leave the bed an hour prior, the exhaustion from the day before still weighed heavy as you felt him give you a swift kiss before leaving the room. You’d fallen back into a deep sleep when your brother came through the door.

“Mother has chosen someone.” He said in a panic. You jolted from your spot in bed, eyes blown wide at the wakeup call.

“What? No, that’s too fast. How has she chosen someone already?” You ranted.

“I don’t think you’re going to like it.” He smiled sadly at you and your stomach turned.

“Who?” You asked, deep down you knew the answer.

“The Duke, Oliver.” You knew he was going to say it, but the news still upset you, still made your stomach drop somewhere into the centre of the Earth. You felt a few tears spring to your eyes, this was already moving too fast. “I’m sorry.” Harrison sighed, the sad smile still prominent.

**

Annie was getting you ready for the ridiculous meeting you were to have with your mother and the duke.

“Do you ever wish you could have a different life?” You asked as she brushed through your hair, her eyes met yours in the mirror for a short time.

“Sometimes,” she sighed.

“I do,” you said confidently, as she put the brush down as she looked at you. “I hate this life. I wish I was free to marry who I wanted, not have the expectation of carrying on the family name.” You huffed.

“You don’t want children?” She asked shocked, she always thought you did, ever since you were little when you had the dreams of a small princess and a perfect life.

“I do. I don’t know, I just don’t want my children to grow up not knowing what love is.” You answered honestly. “I don’t want them to grow up looking at their parents, who don’t love each other, and think that’s love.” You’d always wondered whether or not your parents shared the bond of love, you were never sure. You wanted your children to grow up without that doubt.

**

You sat there in the meeting room, your groom to be sat across from you as you looked at each other, you barely knew the man. Yet you were supposed to marry him. He slid a box across the table at you, you picked it up, opening it.

“I brought you a ring.” He said, you studied it. It was possibly the most hideously loud ring you’d ever seen. You caught your mother’s eye, and she gave you a stern look.

“Thank you, it’s lovely.” You deserved an award for that lie.

“So, I was thinking of a short engagement. Maybe a wedding by the end of the summer.” Your mother spoke and you had to stop your jaw from dropping, your stomach turning for what felt like the thousandth time that day.

“That’s a month away.” You almost whispered.

“Yes, well, like I said a short engagement.” Your mother said almost mockingly, she was doing this on purpose.

“That sounds good to me.” Oliver said, smug look on his face. Of course he was going to have a smug look on his face, he was to become a Prince by the end of next month.

“Perfect.” Your mother spoke before you could open your mouth. You felt bored again, zoning out of the conversation. You tried to make it look like you were interested but you weren’t doing a great job, your mother had caught your eye a few times, shooting you a look.

“Now all we need to do is sign the papers.” Your mother said, pulling you from your thoughts. Your head snapping to hers.

“What? Why?” You asked in a rush.

“The contract. There’s no going back from this.” Your mother said, smug look on her face. She was very much doing this on purpose you realised.

“Mother, may I speak with you for a moment?” You asked, eyes shooting to Oliver, begging him to leave the room, he seemingly got the message as he stood, taking a bow before exiting the room. “You have no right to decide my future like this.” You snapped at your mother, she furrowed her brows, it was a look you were so familiar with. She was angry.

“Your future was decided long before you were born. You have no choice in the matter, we gave you the choice and instead you behaved like a child.” She said, her tone was firm, she was refraining from shouting you could tell. Your anger had matched hers by this point.

“Why? Because I do not love any of them? I can barely stand the men you have made me choose from.”

“You have a duty, we have been over this.”

“Why does duty have to mean marriage? Why can I not marry someone that I love? What difference will it make? I’ll never be queen.” You said as you went to stand, your mother’s hand shot out, firmly grasping your own, making you sit. Her grip was like a viper’s, it hurt, you felt tears spring to your eyes as she dug her nails into the skin on the back of your hand.

“You will do as you are told. You will stop questioning me. You are an ungrateful little brat, most women would kill to be who you are. Now, I have had enough, you will take that pen and you will sign your name.” She said, firm grip still on your hand, you felt the skin break as a tear slipped from your cheek.

She used her free hand to pass you the pen, you took it into your own free hand and signed the papers.

“May I be excused?” You asked firmly, voice not faltering as you imagined it would.

“Yes. Now clean yourself up and learn to behave. Do not cross me again.” She hissed out as she let go of your hand, you stood, hastily making your way out of the room. As soon as you got out, you let all the tears fall, your hand was in an incredible amount of pain as you examined the damage. It was bleeding slightly, small marks that resembled your mother’s fingernails had made a home on the back of your hand.

You made your way into your bedroom, tears streaming down your face as you collapsed on the bed. Annie instantly rushing to your side.

“Princess? What happened?” She asked as she encouraged you to sit on the edge of the bed with her. “Who did this?” She asked frantically as she examined your hand. She didn’t give you any chance to respond as she disappeared to fetch some alcohol and rags. “Here, let me fix that before it gets infected.” She said as you placed your hand in hers.

You watched as she cleared the blood, wincing slightly as the alcohol made its way into your cuts.

“I hate her. I hate all of this.” You whimpered out, a fresh wave of tears making their way down your face. Annie had wrapped your hand up by this point as she looked at you. “My mother was never the loving type.” You sniffled as you held your injured hand up to her.

“Should I call for your brother?” She asked. You felt lost, felt like you didn’t know what to do, you’d just signed your life away, in one meeting, you’d signed away any chance of happiness you could ever have.

“No,” you said weakly. “I should not bother him with this. I’m sorry.” You whimpered again as the tears returned, you couldn’t help them as they cascaded down your face like a waterfall. Your sobs became ugly as you let out all of your frustrations. You felt Annie wrap her arms around you, she seemingly didn’t know what else to do. This shocked her, she’d never seen you cry like this, even as a child.

You stayed like that for a while as she stroked your back, it was comforting, she’d always been such a good friend and you were happy that you would always have her. For as long as she wanted to work for you, you’d have her. You heard your bedroom door open and snapped your head up, your father stood there as he took in the sight before him.

“Thank you Annie.” Your father said as he dismissed her from the room. He sat next to you on the edge of the bed, taking your injured hand in his own, he sighed. “Your mother is upset with you.” He smiled sadly as you sniffled, tears dying down.

“I just don’t understand!” You let out frustratedly. “You are the King, can you not do something?”

“Like you,” he sighed, “I have a lot expected of me.”

“I don’t want to marry him.” You’d always found your father the more loving parent, when in private he never expected you to speak properly, he was always the more gentle of the two. You never doubted his love for you.

“I know my love, but we can’t have everything we want. Not when we’re born into this.” He said sadly, dropping your hand.

“Mother talks as if it’s some sort of blessing.” You said bitterly.

“Do you know who you remind me of?” He smiled and you furrowed your brows in response. “Me. I never wanted this either.” He admitted, you’d always been honest with each other, but this was the first time you’d ever had a conversation about the life you were born into. The answer shocked you, he’d been brought up knowing he was going to be King.

“What?” You asked, utterly confused.

“Harrison was luckier than you and I will ever be.” He said as he played with his wedding ring.

“You mean?” You asked as you trailed off.

“Yes. I married your mother because it was expected of me. I’d never even met her until the day I married her.” He admitted, sad smile on his face and you felt bad for him, he had been put in the same position you had, and you wondered if it was your father that had been the reason you didn’t marry at eighteen, your mother had wanted you to. You wondered if he’d held off as long as he could, he never forced it on Harrison, he was just lucky to have found someone he loved in time.

“Have you ever been in love?” You asked. Now you knew the answer to the question you’d wondered for years. Your parents didn’t love each other, as you’d suspected but you wondered if he’d ever found love.

“Yes. There was a woman many years ago, a maid. I loved her. Sadly, she passed though.” He said, sad smile on his face. You were shocked by the answer, he’d been seeing someone in private for years and never been caught.

“Did mother ever…” You trailed off, your mother surely would have said something had she known.

“Neither of us have been faithful.” He sadly admitted. “Do you understand what it is I’m trying to tell you?” He asked and you thought for a minute before you answered.

“As long as the public think I’m doing the right thing, it doesn’t matter what I do in private?” You asked and he nodded as he reached out and flicked your nose, just like he did when you were a child. It pulled a smile from you.

“There we go. You and your brother are the only happy thing to come from my marriage to your mother.”

“If you could, would you let me marry someone I loved?” You asked, you had to know.

“Of course I would. I’ve always hoped that you’d be smarter than I was. I’ve always hoped you’d be the one to find a way around it.” He said and you smiled sadly at him.

“The contract is signed, it’s too late.” You huffed out.

“It’s never too late.” He said and you looked at him, you truly loved your father, he was the only parent you’d ever had a close bond with and looking at him now, listening to what he’d just said, you realised just how much you loved your father, just how good of a man he truly was.

“What if I’ve found the man I love? The one I want to risk it all for?” You asked, you weren’t going to tell your father about Tom, but you had to ask.

“Why do you think I’m here?” He teased and your heart froze. He knew. You panicked for a moment, what did this mean for Tom? Was he going to be punished?

“What? How?” You stumbled out in your shock.

“I’m not as oblivious as your mother. I am no fool. I’ve seen how the looks between you have changed over the last couple of months. Be careful, your mother can never know.” He said sternly and you nodded as you hugged him.

You felt hopeful again, more determined as you watched him leave the room. He was saying that you had more control than you thought. As long as you did what was expected of you and was careful behind closed doors you could have what you wanted. You realised that you’d have to let your head lead for a while so you could fill the needs of your heart, you could still have Tom, it didn’t mean it had to end, just that you’d have to be more careful. You wanted to give Tom something that couldn’t be decided for you, something that was his.

**

“You have the night off.” You said to Annie, a bright smile on your face.

“I’m supposed to be working tonight.” She said shyly.

“I’m giving you the night off, go and do something fun, please.” You insisted and she smiled as she nodded. “Before you do go please can you do me one final job?”

“Anything Princess.”

“Please can you summon my brother?”

She did as you asked and within minutes your brother was at your bedroom door, you ushered him inside.

“What on earth could you want so late in the evening?” He asked.

“Where there many guards on your way here?” You asked.

“No. They’ve all been reassigned to help get Oliver’s room ready.” He furrowed his brows. “Why?”

“Can you please send Tom?” You asked and your brother laughed.

“You need to be more careful.” He teased.

“Harrison, please?” You sighed. “I just want to see him, I’ve had a trying day.” You said and Harrison smiled before kissing your cheek.

“Of course little sister.”

Within ten minutes you heard a knock at your door, you opened it, hastily pulling Tom by the arm into the room, he completely baffled at your action as you shut the door before locking it.

“Princess?” He said with raised brows, and you turned to look at him. Your nerves had set in, your palms becoming sweaty. He took note of the look in your eyes and took your hands in his, furrowing his eyes as he saw the bandage. “What happened?” He asked, eyes snapping to your own.

“It doesn’t matter.” You said as you pulled your hand from his. “Tom, I want to give you something, something that’s been yours for a long time.” You spoke more confidently than you felt. His brows furrowed in response.

“Princess, you don’t have to give me anything.” He said, he had no idea what you were talking about.

“I do. I want you to have it, I want it to be you.”

“Want what to be me? Princess you aren’t making much sense.” He said as he cupped your cheek, taking in the frantic look in your eye. “Calm down. It’s just me.” He reassured as he placed a sweet kiss to your forehead. You breathed in a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves as you spoke.

“Tom, I want it to be you that takes my virginity. It’s yours, I want you to have it.”

**

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[heavywithourbabies]

Ten pounds, One week

She couldn’t sleep. She tossed and turned (well as best as she could) and tried everything she could think of to put her mind at ease but she just couldn’t sleep. It was too much. All of it was too much. Her whole body was aching and sore, the slightest movement causing more discomfort. Even in their bed, the place she loved most, the mattress was an unforgiving rock to her body. The pillows far too soft without any support. Even the body pillow felt stiff and rigid against her. “10 pounds” she thought, over and over again. “10 pounds”. Then the other thought came. The one she was trying so hard to keep away. The one that caused her the most frightful heart racing anxiety she had ever felt. One more week. The baby kicked slightly and she whimpered. Rubbing her aching belly to try and sooth him, but it only prompted more movement under her taut flesh. Her husband snored next to her and she was on the verge of tears. Her whole body felt like a prison at this point. Completely trapped in this cumbersome and awkwardly huge body, she couldn’t find any relief. It all was too much. It hurt too much. She took a deep breath in and told herself it would be over soon. That this would all be worth it. She closed her eyes and tried to drift off but then the baby kicked again. Hard. She couldn’t help but moan in pain as the thought struck her again. “10 pounds. One week.” The baby kicked her again almost in her cervix and she cried out, unable to hold back the tears which had been building almost all night.

           He woke up next to her, hearing her sobs. He was still half asleep but knew the sound of his wife in pain, and it broke his heart. He turned to her back in bed and started rubbing it. “Baby” he said “What’s wrong?”

           She buried her face deeper in the pillow and cried harder. He kept rubbing her back and cuddled up close to her, her bare skin hot to the touch. “Honey, please. Tell me.” He said with genuine concern and love for her.

           “It’s everything” she said between cries. “It’s everything that’s happened to me, it’s what’s going to happen, it’s what’s happening…” He gently put his hand on her shoulder. “Baby, please, I don’t understand what you’re saying – “he began before she looked at him with tears running down her face. She swallowed and started to say “it’s the – “but then the baby kicked her again, or perhaps punch was the better word since he was upside down. She yelped and threw the blankets back to expose herself.

           “It’s THIS!!” She cried, looking at her body.

            She had always had a bit of an hourglass figure with well-rounded curves and even with a few extra pounds she was attractive but the pregnancy had taken that from her. In her mind she felt altered. Helpless in this state. Almost mutated……into this. Her hips flared in pain as she turned on her back and tried to sit up against the pillows. They had separated a bit and the awful weight of it all wore down on her pelvis. She felt as if a bowling ball was sitting right atop of her vagina. Which was also aching and taken from her in the pregnancy. In her mind it used to be a small cute thing with pretty floral lips that she could spread and play with. Now it was thick and fatty. Meaty and big. Her lips bulged out, deep and dark, and she couldn’t stand to wear underwear anymore as the hamburger that was her crotch would constantly leak and ruin everything. It was obscene to her. Her most private feminine parts exaggerated into cartoonish proportions. Her thighs ached from carrying all the extra weight and her ass…. she had always been proud of it being big and she knew her husband loved it but now it was huge and plump. Something anyone could notice and stare at. Her breasts once a double d had swollen twice their size. Small stretch marks adorned the underside of them and veins could be seen under the thick flesh. They became heavy and hurt. Aching with milk for the baby. Her areolas were dinner plates now, dark and huge. Her nipples stood painfully erect as drops of milk throbbed out of their ducts. All of her womanly curves distorted and blown up. But the worst…. The worst was her belly. It hung low as the baby dropped recently and was almost hanging off her wide hips. The belly dominated her, huge and unforgivingly heavy. It was dense and packed so full with her huge 10-pound baby in her swollen womb. The skin was pulled painfully taut and hurt all the time, while the heavy weight made it throb. In the beginning and middle of pregnancy she had loved her “bump” but now…. It was like she was just arms legs and tits attached to a giant sphere. Angry red stretch marks laid claim to her belly flesh and her belly button jutted out. That even hurt. Her belly button hurt.

           “Look at me” she wailed. “look what’s happened to me!” Her husband could tell by her tone she had obviously let herself spiral out in her thoughts. He would need to do something.” I’m a huge circus freak now!” she cried.

           “Well you are a bit bigger than a house” he said with a smile hoping to get her to laugh.

She wasn’t having it.

           “I’m bigger than a house.” She started up again with fresh tears in her eyes. “I’m bigger than a beached whale. Look at my body. I can’t stand it. I can’t stand being inside of all…. THIS!” She patted her belly for emphasis and as she did her breasts began to openly leak. “Oh God…… even my tits…. it hurts….” She heaved her heavy body to the side with her back to her husband and cried big salty tears that blurred her vision.

           He had been staring at her as she went on. In fact, he couldn’t take his eyes off of her. It was slightly embarrassing for him. Here she was in pain and he was- well- he was getting hard. The sight of his wife carrying his baby turned him on like nothing else. All of her beautiful curves were only womanlier and more feminine to him. She was radiant. She was beautiful. She was a fertility goddess made real. He rubbed her back softly as she cried while the sight of her big heart shaped ass made him ache for her.

           “The baby is 10 pounds.” She sniffled. “10 pounds. How am I supposed to push that out in a week? What will I look like after that? Even worse? Feel even worse? I’ll just be hanging skin and a floppy belly with ugly stretch marks and- “

           She stopped as she felt his big warm hands go from her back to her aching breasts. He was fondling them gently. But it hurt. He grazed a leaking nipple and tugged on it slightly and she let out a hiss of pain. “Don’t” She said. He returned his fingers to her nipples and lightly grazed them, playing with them slowly in circular motions. They felt raw to his touch. “Don’t, please – “She began again and then felt him pressing his hardness against her soft ass.

           “Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?” he asked as he started to grind himself against her backside. “Do you have any clue how sexy you are like this?”

           “Please, I know you’re lying – “She was about to let defeat wash over her and then her husband pulled open her thighs and without checking with her, drove himself in. She couldn’t help but cry out. Her fat, swollen pussy was already wet from being so pregnant and he took full advantage.

           “I want you to stop thinking about yourself like that.” He said “in fact, I don’t ever want to hear those words come out of your mouth again.” His grip on her breast tightened forcing her to spurt out milk and then his hand was climbing up her slender neck. The strong fingers wrapping around her throat. “Do you understand what I’m telling you?” he asked as he slowly thrusted into her. His grip around her neck tightened. “Don’t ever talk like that.”

            Despite her misery, she felt herself opening up to him. Felt herself grow slicker to his driving in and out. “yes” she said in a small voice.

            He thrusted in as deep and as hard as could and just kept himself rigid there, impaling her on his thick cock. His grip was like iron on her throat. “Say it again” he demanded.

“Yes” She said as best as she could with his hand clamped on her neck and felt herself almost gushing on his cock. The baby kept moving, searching for any spare space inside her belly. “You are the sexiest fucking thing I have ever seen carrying this baby.” Her husband said as he started to thrust in faster. Her big ass pressing against him, trying to keep him at bay. “you have never looked sexier than you do right now, big and ripe with my baby.” Despite her large behind, he kept plowing deep in her. There was pain as he went and her body still ached but a warm feeling kept building in her belly. She felt her nipples straining hard as trails of pre-milk made their way down her swollen chest. “You are my fucking fertile sex goddess.”  He said with dominance and she could hear how wet she was stretching around his cock. “I am your- “she tried to speak but the warm feeling was becoming a fire inside her now, rising through her massive swollen belly and to her chest. She felt wave after wave of it hitting her deep in her core. She ached. She hurt. But she also knew he wasn’t lying. His need and desire for her were overwhelming. She felt light again. Almost her old self. If wasn’t lying –

           Her husband started drilling into her faster. His balls hitting her clit as he went.

“If he wasn’t lying -”

           “Tell me what you are!” He whispered hotly in her ear. His lower arm wrapped around her belly protectively.

           “If he wasn’t lying” she thought and felt herself nearing the crest of something good and wonderful. “I am YOUR sex goddess” She gasped. She took his hand on her belly and pressed it tighter so he could feel his baby kicking. The sheets under her chest were soaked now and she felt herself almost drooling between her legs.  “Feel me” She said as she rubbed her belly with her husband. “Feel how big and swollen I am for you.”

           Her husband grunted and she knew he was close. So was she.

“Feel how heavy I am.” She purred. “how heavy I am with him.”

           “Heavy with who” he demanded again in between sharp inhales of breath.

“Heavy with YOUR baby.” She answered in. a husky voice and she felt him go rigid inside of her. Her soft swollen walls could feel his cock throb and twitch deep inside her hot cunt. She felt herself tip over the edge as the first spurt of his warm cum hit her walls. She moaned in ecstasy as her husband, the man she loved, the man who found her sexy no matter what, shot rope after rope of hot cum deep in her core.

           The two stayed locked into place like that for what felt like a long time. Neither of them talking. She almost thought he was asleep when the baby kicked again and she felt his big hand rub the spot of movement, trying to soothe his son. She still worried. She still had the anxiety. Her body still ached and felt wretched. But for the moment, she could take it. And in a week she would meet her baby boy. She thought about the labor and the feeling of finally giving him to her husband to hold and she smiled. “10 pounds. One week” she thought and closed her eyes.

[staysaneathome]

That Day (Evening)

(The Entity-Swap kid fic WIP that now has a fourth part. Warnings for continued endangerment of children and high levels of pining)

The park is quite a bit further from where they lost the teenager in the hijab than Jon initially thought.

It’s almost funny, how two or three miles doesn’t sound like a very long way to run-walk. Just two or three, the small number making it sound doable, like they should be able to get there in a matter of minutes.

It’s less funny when they’ve been walking for over half an hour and Melanie won’t stop whining about how her legs are tired.

”Carry me.” She demands imperiously.

“No.” Replies Jon, flatly. “Last time I did that, you scratched me really badly. My shoulder and face still hurt.”

”They do not.” Melanie says, as if her denial is enough to undo all the damage. “And I won’t scratch this time. Carry me?”

”No. It’s not even much further to walk.”

”Uuuuugh, you said that last time!” She complains. “It’s been for-eeeee-veeer! Can we at least get some juice or a Freddo Frog or something?”

”With what money?” Jon asks archly.  That buys him maybe half a minute of blessed, blessed silence.

“Wait. You don’t have money?” Melanie asks with a frankly insulting level of incredulity. “But aren’t you like, an adult? Adults have money!”

”I’m twelve!” He sputters, gesturing to himself. “Do I look like I have any money?”

There’s a moment of silence as Melanie eyes him up and down. “I thought you were just ugly.” She says dismissively. “Wait. If you aren’t an adult, can I be in charge?”

”No!” He snaps indignantly. “I’m still the oldest.”

”That’s dumb.” Melanie complains. “You’re dumb. And ugly.”

”And older than you.” Jon reminds her smugly. He’s been with her for long enough by now that he knows when to dodge out of the way when she tries to pinch him.

It’s a relief when the park finally comes into view.

It’s an even bigger one when he catches sight of Martin sitting on the balance beam, looking around patiently.

It lifts a weight off Jon’s shoulders that he didn’t even know was there when Martin catches sight of him and his face breaks out in a grin, like the sun rising.  Then Martin’s face rapidly falls, and he’s sprinting over to them, looking like he’s seen a ghost.

Jon has a fleeting fear that the teenager in the hijab or the searcher are right behind them, poised and waiting for him to turn around to strike.

Martin slows, huffing and puffing as his hands reach out towards him, shaking slightly. “Jon! Jon, oh my gosh, what—what happened to, to your arm, to your face?!”

Ah, Jon thinks, as Martin cups his less-savaged cheek gently and tilts his head. Was that all he was frightened of?

”It’s nothing.” He says gruffly, trying not to think about how weird-hot-odd it feels to have Martin worry about some little scratches like this, fighting the urge to fidget. “Just doing, um. Doing what I had to.”

Martin’s eyes are big and liquid and sad, and he frowns, opening his mouth—

“Liar. You didn’t say it was ‘nothing’ when you wouldn’t carry me.” A sour voice interrupts.

Jon startles and Martin whips his hand away so fast it feel like a burn, both of them turning to stare down at where the interruption came from. Melanie is starfished on her back on the grass, glaring up at them moodily, one sweaty hand still clutching Jon’s. The Watcher informs Jon that her clothes will have grass stains on them when she gets up. Jon tries to inform the Watcher that he doesn’t care, but is ignored, as usual.

Melanie eyes Martin critically. “Are you his friend then?”

Martin straightens up, his usual smile on his face. “Erm, um—yes! Yes, yes I am Jon’s friend! Mar-Martin Blackwood! Um, hello! And, and you are?”

Melanie pulls her sweaty hand out of Jon’s grip and holds it out to Martin, sitting up. “M Melanie King. Jon kidnapped me and we’re friends now too.”

Martin’s smile freezes as he processes that sentence. His eyes dart between Jon and Melanie. “Ah. Um.”

”I did not.” Jon protests. “You were being kidnapped by a searcher, and I saved you.”

”Didn’t do a very good job of it.” Melanie mutters, pulling up grass by the roots and dropping it on his shoes.

Jon retreats with a disgusted noise, trying to shake it out where it’s fallen through the holes of his too-big trainers. ”Stop that! And-and we’ve just met, we’re not friends!”

There’s a moment of silence.

Melanie’s eyes start to water.  She begins making an awful noise that makes some part of Jon’s brain he hadn’t even known existed freeze up and go “Oh no”.

He exchanges a brief terrified glance with Martin, who reaches out. “Oh, no, no, no, oh please—”

Melanie wails, the sheer force of the noise making Jon stumble backwards.

“Melanie, shh!” He hisses, darting glances around at few parkgoers who are stopping to stare, “You’re making people—”

”NO!” She bellows, swiping out at him with a poorly aimed claw, tears and snot running down her face in rivulets. “I HAE-HATE YOU! I HATE THI-I-IS! I HATE THAT EVERYTHIN' SO ANNOYING, ALL, ALL THE TIME, AND IT DOESN'T STO-O-OP!! I HATE MY FRIENDS NOT, NOT LIKING ME ANYMORE! I HATE MY DADDY GETTIN' SAD 'CAUSE OF ME! I JUS' WAN' IT TO STOP! I WAN’ MY FRIENDS BACK!! I WANNA GO HOME!!”

The little girl curls in on herself, the bright green grass stains on the back of her sparkly top shaking with her as she continues to sob like her little heart is breaking.

Jon has no idea what to do to fix this, hands clenching and unclenching uselessly at his sides. He has no idea how she was touched by the Slaughter (though the Watcher croons for him to question her, to learn, to Ask—), and even if he did, it’s not as though he could make it just go away, as if a mark like this could be removed with a bit of scrubbing. This isn’t something that can just be pulled out of her, like a loose tooth. It’s part of her now, wedged deep inside like the Forsaken is in Martin, and the Watcher is in Jon.

He doesn’t know what to do. He doesn’t Know—

“I-I’ll be your friend!” Martin babbles frantically.

Jon stares at him, feeling suddenly, irrationally betrayed.

Melanie gulps and sniffles, peering up at him through red-rimmed eyes. “…you promise?”

”Cross my heart and hope to die.” Martin smiles, holding out a small, ragged tissue. “C’mon now, can you give me a big dragon blow into this?”

She gives him a Look, like she knows he’s trying to make her laugh and is cross with him for it, but does as he says, making a noise that’s a bit like a honk.

“Good job!” Martin praises, while Jon crosses his arms and tries to make his face not frown like he wants to. This is stupid. You can't be friends with somebody you’ve just met, you don’t Know them, it’s silly. Childish. Plus Martin’s his friend. Melanie has no right to come along and-and steal him like this. Martin looks up and catches sight of Jon’s face. His smile dims a bit and his colors go paler, more faded, which makes Jon’s tummy squirm uncomfortably.

Still, he keeps babbling, “I-I’m really happy to be your friend, and Jon’s friend too! I don’t have many friends at home, so this is. This is nice. To be friends with you two. It makes me happy. Do you have superpowers too? Like how I can go invisible, and Jon can make people tell him stuff and Know things?”

Melanie shrugs, tearing up the tissue in her hands. “Dunno. Making people get into fights, or something. Invisibility’s cool, I guess. But getting people to tell you stuff isn’t a superpower. That’s just asking questions. It’s dumb.”

“No it’s not!” Jon bristles indignantly, all his focus on the little friend-thief. “Asking questions can be dangerous. Especially when you can’t stop yourself from answering them. How’d you think the searcher was going to eat up your life?”

“W-well, a brain sucker monster like her wouldn’t need to ask questions, would they? They’d just bite your ugly head off and know everything anyway.” She argues back, little chest puffed out and tears all but forgotten. “If all that creepy lady was going to do is ask questions, I could take her. I just wouldn’t open my mouth. Easy peasy lemon squeezy.”

Jon barely notices Martin going wide-eyed and near translucent out of the corner of his eye as he opens his mouth to prove exactly why Melanie is wrong.

But he freezes up when he hears a soft, deep voice behind him. “Oh, really? Care to put that to the test?”

The searcher smiles down at the three of them.

Her eyes are empty and something hungry looks out from them.

”Come, little ones.” She coos, one hand outstretched. “Come home with me. Come back to the Collection. You’ll want for nothing, never hungry, never cold, never tired, never lonely, never angry. And you’ll hear such interesting stories. We’ve missed you, my prized Recorder. I’ve missed you so much.”

Jon feels frozen, pinned like a bird in the eyes of a snake, a part of him that he never wanted to know existed clamoring at him to take it, take her hand, you need the stories, you need—

A large, warm, soft hand grabs his, and yanks him back into the fog.

Jon yelps, though it feels like his yell is swallowed up in the crushing, inescapable isolation that now surrounds him. He sees Melanie, but it’s like she’s miles away, her shouting and directionless anger losing teeth as it dawns on her how utterly, utterly alone they both are. They aren’t friends. They can’t rely on each other. They’ll lose sight of each other and perish here, unremarkable and unremarked on and alone.

”C’mon!” A familiar, kind voice comes through the fog, shocking Jon back to his senses. “We’ve got to go! This way!”

His hand is being held. Of course it is. How could he forget? He and Melanie are holding Martin’s hands, as the barely visible boy tugs them through the eddies of fog, away from the searcher.

They run through the dreamlike realm of the Forsaken in a weird, birdlike configuration.

Martin had grabbed the hand which was closest to him on Jon, while Jon was still facing the searcher, locked into her gaze. The result is that his arm is drawn almost painfully across his body as they run, his sweaty palm clutching Martin’s tight, sure that if he even loosens his grip enough to change to a more comfortable position, he’ll be lost forever in the fog.

Melanie is stumbling along on Martin’s other side, her legs weak and shaky, almost skipping at some points to try and keep up with the pace Martin is setting, glancing back every so often. Tears are running down her face almost absentmindedly.

For a moment, as they pass through the darkening trees and get further and further away from the playground, Jon thinks they might actually make it. They might actually escape the searcher and live to fight another day.

”Stop.”

Jon feels his legs lock up, all his muscles seizing together as though cramped. The burning sensation of being Watched sears itself into the back of his neck, the entirety of him Known and Seen and Exposed.

He faintly hears Martin and Melanie scream as though they’re being peeled open and pinned down for study as he crashes face first into the mossy earth beneath them.

The searcher takes her time strolling up to them, forcing Jon to listen to his friends’ pained whimpers where they’ve fallen. Martin’s face scraped viciously from the bark of the tree in from of them, and Melanie unable to even inch off of where a root is digging into her stomach.

That’s how he knows it’s the man looking through her eyes, delighting in their distress.

”No,” He can hear Martin choke out, “No, st-stop it, st-stay away fr—!”

”Look at you.” The searcher coos in a tone that has never been her own. “All banged up and bruised. Do you enjoy this, Jon? Do you enjoy hurting your friends?”

Jon wants to scream, to cry, to yell that of course not, of course he doesn’t, he’d never want to, but it feels like his throat is closed up. It’s all he can do to suck in shaky breaths through his nose as the searcher gets closer and closer.

“Kill you,” He can faintly hear Melanie wheeze. Jon’s honestly at a loss for whether she’s speaking to the searcher or to him. “Swear, I-I swear, kill you, I’ll—”

“Come now.” The searcher says pleasantly. “That’s enough games. Time to come back now, children, Recorder. Time to come back to the Collection.”

He can see her hand reaching down for him.

A dark blur slams into the searcher.

Jon hears several short screams, what sounds incongruously like a growl and then a loud, wet, puncturing noise.

His limbs release from the rictus they’ve been forced into.

The burning sensation of being Watched fades to the ever-present prickle on the back of his neck.

Jon jerks his head up with a punched out gasp, reaching for the others, pulling them behind him even as he turns to See what is happening, what’s going on.

There’s a lady kneeling over the searcher’s limp, lifeless body.

She’s got combat boots and a hoodie that’s slipped down from her shoulders to bunch around her elbows. A small burst of scar tissue, almost like a flower, is visible and hidden again as she shifts, more animal than human in her movements. It reminds Jon of a nature documentary he watched with his grandmother once, a mountain lion stalking forward lithely to devour its prey.  There’s the same intent, hungry stare in her eyes that Jon vaguely recalls the mountain lion having as she draws up to her full height and pins the three children huddled at the base of the tree under her gaze. There’s a penknife in her hand that’s dripping with the searcher’s blood.

He hears Martin suck in a frightened whine behind him, fog spilling out to pool around Jon’s ankles. Melanie’s breathing so fast she sounds like she’s a mere moment away from hyperventilation.

They can’t escape like this. Not from a killer touched by the Hunt. Not without a distraction of some kind.

Jon’s mouth is opening before his brain can process what an awful idea this is. “How did you get that—”

He doesn’t even see her move.

All he knows is the breath is punched out of his lungs and his feet are dangling uselessly as the Hunter slams him into another tree, a snarl on her lips. The bloody penknife is pressed hard into the thin skin of his throat.

”So you’re one of them, hm?” The Hunter snarls, the burr of her Welsh accent mixing with a growl that almost drowns out Martin’s frantic cries of “JON!” A tiny part of his brain that isn’t frantically trying to stay as still as possible notes that she’s got Melanie’s sparkly hair bobble stretched around one wrist.

“I wonder.” The Hunter says, with fake casualness. “What’d be the best way to make sure you can’t ask any more of them pesky questions that hurt people, hm? The tongue? Or the voicebox?”

”DAISY, STOP!”

It’s like magic.

The Hunt slides away under the young woman’s skin like someone’s pulled a blanket over it. Not gone, the shape of it still plainly visible, but softened, gentled by the cover’s drapes and folds. The arm that’s holding Jon up trembles, ever so slightly, and the penknife is finally, finally pulled away, even if only by a few centimeters.  Jon’s breath hitches in his chest and he has to blink away tears.

As she twists around to face the teenager in the hijab, Jon’s given a clear view of one of her ears, which has begun to flush pink, for some reason.

”Basira.” There’s barely concealed excitement in her voice that is very confusing right now. “Hi. I, uh. I was in the area, and I, uh. Noticed you were having some trouble. So I found those kids that, that you were looking for.”

”That’s. Nice? But, Daisy, I need you to put him down now.” The teenager in the hijab is holding her hands out placatingly. “That boy’s not dangerous, not like Rayner. I wanted to ask him some questions.”

The teenager in the hoodie scoffs, but does as she asks, tucking the penknife away and lowering Jon to the ground. “If you say so. Just don’t let him ask you any—they’re tricky, Eye types like this.”

Jon feels his legs go wobbly the moment his feet touch earth. He slumps, breath wheezing out of him, heart racing like he’s running from the searcher all over again.

”JON!” Martin’s arms curve under his, pulling him forward into a tight, warm, soft hug. “Oh, oh god, I-I’m so sorry, ah-are you okay?! Did she hurt you?”

Jon can only grip feebly back, burying his head into Martin’s increasingly saturated shoulder as it feels like he shakes apart.

Part of his brain that isn’t focused on clutching onto Martin like he’s a lifejacket and swallowing compulsively to remind himself that he’s alright, he’s whole, faintly registers the sound of something smacking flesh, and the Hunter going “Ow!” “That’s what you get!” Comes Melanie’s shrill reply. “Don’t you ever touch him again, okay, you big, big, stupid, bullying, ugly—!”

”Okay, that’s enough of that.” The teenager in the hijab—Basira? says. “Break it up, you two.”

There’s the distant sound of dried leaves and tree detritus crunching underfoot, and then Martin’s breath hitches. Jon tightens his grip, preparing to twist him away from whatever’s threatening them now.

”Hey, easy, easy.” Basira’s voice comes from a lot closer. “I’m sorry about Daisy, but she’s very…passionate about stopping monsters. Like the one chasing you three. That was a monster, wasn’t it?”

“Y-yeah.” Martin stutters. “She was going to hurt Jon. Just like she did.”

Jon stiffens at the sound of the warning growl, but Martin doesn’t let go of him, even though Jon can feel his heart racing in his chest. A peek shows that Martin’s staring down the teenager in the hijab with a wobbly lower lip, but eyes set hard.

”And she’s very sorry about that.” Basira demurs. “It was all a big misunderstanding, wasn’t it Daisy?”

There’s a moment, and a decidedly grumpy, “Yes.”

“There we go.” There’s a rustle, and Jon withdraws his head from the safety of Martin to see that she’s pulled out a small leather-bound notebook and a pencil. “Now, could I ask you both some questions? About the whole,”

She makes an all-encompassing gesture to them and the cold fog of the Forsaken coiling around them.

”Our superpowers?” Martin blinks. “Why? Do you have them too?”

The teenager shakes her head. “No. I’m ah, uninvolved in a lot of this. But then a boy I was babysitting got kidnapped by shadow monsters, and I met Daisy while trying to rescue him, so ‘forewarned is forearmed’ and all that. And since I’m under strict orders not to go to the Orsinov Institute—”

”I told you,” The hunter—Daisy—interrupts. “That place is dangerous. They say they research stuff, but something ain’t right there. You’d walk in, and something else would waltz out in your place.”

Jon can’t help his curiosity. “H-how—?”  It feels like his vocal cords dry up under the glare the Hunter pins him with. Thin ice, she mouths at him.

”Yes, thank you, Daisy.” Basira cuts in, shifting so she breaks the line of sight between the Hunter and Jon. “So, as I am banned from ever setting foot in the one reputable center for the study of the supernatural in this country, I have to do my own research piecemeal from subjects in the field.”

Martin and Melanie are giving her blank looks.  “She wants to ask us about the Watcher, the Forsaken and the Slaughter and what we can do.” Jon translates.

Martin nods with a little ‘oh’. Melanie just looks even more confused.

”I just want my Daddy. I wanna go home.” Her voice breaks on the last word.

Basira’s face softens at that.

”Y-yeah.” Martin says, shifting from one foot to the other. “A-and I need to get my train back. My, my mum’s probably worried about me…”

Jon can’t quite help the way his arms tighten at that, though he loosens them quickly. It’s only natural. The sun’s practically gone down, after all. Whether Jon desperately wants him to stay has no import on the matter at hand.

“Right.” Basira scribbles down something in her notebook, then tears the paper out and then tears that into three strips. “This is my mobile number, and email address. You can contact me using either of these to talk about…superpower things.”

”And I’ll find you if you try to vanish, easy as anything.” Daisy adds with a toothy grin. “So don’t.”

”Daisy.”  The hunter holds up her hands. There’s dark red blood on the one that held the knife. “I’m joking, Basira, joking.”

Jon, despite how much he doesn’t want to, detaches from Martin. “I, I don’t have a phone. Or a computer.”

Basira hums, her head tilted to the side. “You know Angel of Islington? Near where you two got on the bus earlier?”

Jon nods as she goes on. “I can be found around there most days. Just drop by if you feel like sharing any of the things you’ve seen so far. And who knows? Maybe I’ll have some stories for you too.”

Something leaps in Jon’s stomach.

Still, the way the Hunter’s gone tense puts him on edge, so he makes himself say, “Only-only little ones. Not, not big stories.”

The teenager in the hijab nods impassively.  She claps her hands together. “Well, that’s enough excitement for one day, I think. Let’s see about finding your parents and getting you all home, shall we?”

Daisy nods, stepping close. Her ears are still red in the fading evening light. “I’ll come with you.”

Basira gives her an unimpressed look and a snort. “And then who’ll deal with that?”

They all turn to stare at the searcher’s body.  Martin shivers and grabs his hand, squeezing gently. Jon almost jumps when he feels something small and warm press close to his other side, before he looks down and sees Melanie’s leaf-and-twig-filled hair. The other sparkly bobble is almost falling out too.

Daisy’s eyebrows draw together and she lets out a small growl. “Ugh, fine. But just, um. Call me, maybe, next time? If you’re gonna go chasing after weird things.”

Basira smiles, playing with the edge of her hijab for some reason. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Jon glances back as she ushers the three of them out of the park, shoulder and throat and everything else aching and feeling like he imagines an orange must do after the juice is squeezed out of it. The hunter’s eyes shine in the looming dark as they go, shifting from something that Jon wants to call friendliness to a more animalistic bent as she crouches over the body of the searcher, and the two of them disappear into the trees and the twilight.

[dinthehottotty]

A Thing About Silver (Part 2)

Summary: You face Din after sleeping with Cobb, partially out of spite and fight with Mando. 

Warnings: Angst, smut, gratitious smut. So much. More creampies. Unprotected sex. This is fanfiction. USE PROTECTION. Slight Dom!Din

A/N: I enjoyed writing this wayyyy too much. Good luck. Also I rushed a little bit towards the end cause I’m tired.

Part 1

Mando was moved on to cleaning his blaster now, still waiting. It made you sick.

Ducking your head, you shuffle through the sand and don't bother to look at him as you approach the little dome. He doesn't say anything as you climb the steps he sits on and wordlessly move toward the building.

Sleep called for you.

Leather snatches your wrist, not delicate at all. "Look at me," he manages. It's got no bite. No edge. It's soft and coaxing. Too sweet for your eager ears because now tears are welling in your eyes again at the shame. Immediately you know the truth of things. There is no illusion that you've truly and sorely fucked up. The worry in his voice twists you apart. Would you ever be able to repair the shot your hurt pride took?

Instead you squeeze your eyes shut and tilt your head back, desperately hoping that he won't insist. But it's Din. "Please, look at me," he begs. The attempt to steel yourself and stand your ground crumbles like the sand in your boots.

"I can't," you manage, voice breaking harshly. "Let me go." You pull your hand away and trudge into the little room he'd rented. The child was long since passed out in his floating crib. There was a tiny kitchenette in the corner, one that had been cleaned but a bowl still sat at the table. Then there was a bed and a sofa. Toward the back sat a door, you assume to the 'fresher.

You can hear Din following behind you, heavy boots making the floors creak. "You should eat something," he tries, voice turning tense but he's still just as soft as before. Instead of listening, you move toward the sofa and sink down on it, the fresh tears hot on your cheeks.

There is a split second between when he moves around and sees the tears, and him reaching for you. "Don't," you rasp.

"Did he hurt you?" He snarls, despite his gentleness of his hands flutter over you.

"No," you snap back at him. Finally glaring deep into the visor of his helm. It lasts only a moment. "No, Din, he didn't do anything wrong." You sniffle and fixate on a spot on the wall, then stop fighting the urge and curl in on yourself. How could you sit here and feel sorry for yourself when you'd ruined everything so easily. All for a quick fuck. (Well, not necessarily quick.) You'd pushed and prodded, always hoping for a different reaction but deep down, you'd always known the truth. Din didn't love you in that way.

He paces across the floor in front of you, very quiet, very anxious. Despite feeling the increasing anxiety from it, you decide to push it down. Your own frustration twisting and tightening like a coil. The air was heavy.

That is until your eyes fall on the floating cradle in the corner. Your heartaches, you weren't just losing Din. The kid would go with him.

You had two options. This was an ugly sore that neither of you could ignore. Should you try to resolve it now? Best case, you ride out this wave of shame and stick with Din and the child. They were home to you, but you'd be subjected to the truth that Din would never love you in this way. Trust was probably broken and until you both had mended from the hurt of the situation, the ship couldn't sail smoothly. You'd have to learn to not love Din in that manner, if that was possible. You fear that it would make you bitter. How long would you be staying with Din? Until the kid was gone? Would he be okay after he'd delivered him? Should you both spend the next few nights thinking and settling on your stupidity or would that just encourage further brewing? You didn't know if you could trust yourself to stay level headed or not burst into wails if Din so much as raised his voice.

But you needed it. You need him to scream at you about your recklessness. You needed to be shamed because how could you possibly take Din being this sweet and worried about you. Bile worked it's way up from your stomach, fighting with burning fingertips.

His pacing froze, seeming to watch you with distress, but you couldn't tear your blurred eyes from the levitating bassinette.

"Are you going to leave me?" He asks, his voice much firmer than before.

"I..." You start but slowly trailed off. There were too many words in your head. It was muddled and confused. In the very center of it was the enormous weight of shame and guilt. The utter dread cored from them but gravitating all of the negativity that surrounds your situation. It was tossing you in the oceans of panic, you were drowning. Din's anxiety was driving him to go rigid.

The idea of going to sleep was teasing you. Your eyelids were heavy. What time was it even? It was an empty thought. You wouldn't sleep. Just chasing your tail endlessly.

Din is moving between you and the kid and you realize the possessive tone his voice had carried. The real question was he wanted to ask was 'are you going to try to steal my child?' and he had obviously taken that as a threat. How this must look, you gazing longingly at the sleeping babe in his cradle and not giving the man a true answer.

Your eyes move up the curves of beskar that blocked your view of the little one. More hurt is rising. He wasn't worried you'd leave. He was worried you'd take the wrinkly green baby. Somehow you felt the need to blame the metal that separated him from you. You didn't normally curse the only think that had kept him alive this long, but it seemed to mock you like in Cobb's hut. It spurs a dangerous thought.

If Din wanted to fight, you'd fight.

"Wouldn't you like that? Like me to just walk away?" You hiss, rising off the couch to stare at him. Din's helmet doesn't waver a bit as you close in enough to see the puffiness of your eyes.

"Do you want to walk away?" He snaps back.

"Wouldn't that be easier!" You give a sarcastic laugh. "One of your problems could just walk away! Just say it! Just say you want me to leave you alone!" You shove at his chest weakly.

"Stop," he orders sharply. "You don't know what your talking about."

"Really!? Are you kriffing kidding, Din?"

"You need to eat and go to bed."

"Do you somehow have this sick notion that I'm your kid, too? Because I'm not! I am not a child! I am a hurt, angry, and frustrated adult woman!"

Din places his hands on his hips and towers over you. "Stop putting words in my mouth. Where are you even getting these ideas?"

"You treat me like a kid! I'm trying to show you I'm not one!"

"Well, you're acting worse than one right now!" He snarls through his modulator. You grit your teeth at his response. That one hurt. You knew it was true, the spotchka from tonight had left early tonight. It hadn't been enough to truly get you drunk.

"I have no problem listening to you when you give me a damn reason! Just fucking explain things!"

"I don't want to argue with you." He resolves.

"THERE IT IS!" You nearly screech. "That! You barely give me any scraps! You are so fucking hard to read sometimes and I fucking hate it! All I wanted was you to tell me 'no' tonight but instead you just stared! YOU JUST WATCHED ME WALK AWAY!" Din's visor drops at that. It's not trained on you, but off to the side, down towards the floor. "I COULDN'T EVEN ENJOY IT BECAUSE YOU WERE FUCKING THERE THE WHOLE TIME LIKE SOME DEVIL!" You break, sobbing.

His head twists up. "What?"

"You just stare and mock and-"

"I have never mocked you," he butts quieter than before.

"Why didn't you say 'no'?" You snap, eyes blazing, needing an answer.

He only gives you silence. You squeeze your lips into a hard line in the deafening scream of it. Shaking your head, you twist away. "Fucking great," you mutter to yourself.

A hand reaches tentatively for you, it brushes over the underside of your wrist and onto your palm. "What do you mean I was there?" He asks softly.

"You don't get to do that," you warn him, drawing your hand away again. Normally, you would blissfully sunk into his rare touch but you couldn't shake off the fire that was filling you. Guilt was nagging the back of your mind, knowing you were punishing good behavior. It was fruitless. He didn't want to touch you like that. "You don't get to answers from me while avoiding your own. That's not fair to me!"

Din sighs, turning his head to the side. "I'm... I'm not always good... with words." That one hurts more than you expect to. This man was bound to carve you up and spit you out.

You stop, turning your head towards him. You can see him shift his weight, stepping closer. He's standing right behind you. For the millionth time, you wished that fucking armor wasn't blocking his expressions from you.

"I... don't, just so you know."

"Don't what?"

"Want you to leave."

"Why don't I believe that?" You prod, still feeling antagonistic. Din steps closer, he grasps your arm and turns you. He twists you about so suddenly and forcefully that you're taken by surprise. A gasp leaves you when he suddenly grasps your face.

The air stills as you vibrate with the sudden aggression he's showing. His boots hit hard and heavy. Each step is slow and steady, his helmet only inches from your face that he's tilting up in the borderline painful grip he's got on your face. He's forcing you to walk backwards, supporting your form with the other hand that's gripping your arm. Air is suddenly harder to acquire. The air twisting tightly. "Bruise your cervix?" He prompts lowly. It drags across his tongue, extra ragged. "Use you. Make you feel something." It's not possible for your heart to beat out of your chest but when he's done walking you backwards, you feel like it will.

The air has changed, charged with the electricity of anticipation rather than shame and rage.

"Did Cobb do that?" He asks, nearly whispering. It's not an accusation. You glance towards the bassinette where the kid still sleeps, amazingly.

"I used him," you admit, shame filling you, he doesn't give you the opportunity to dwell on it too long because he's shoving you backwards onto something soft. The bed.

Cue the swell of disbelief. Mando leans down and immediately starts working at your pants, tugging them open effectively. He gathers the edges in his hands just as you remember what is currently leaking from between your thighs. You gasp out, "Din, wait!" much softer than you intend. Your voice failing you in the way you need it to.

Too late. He tugs the fabric down your legs effectively. Once glance tells you enough, he's staring at the mess that is was made between your thighs. "You let him cum in you?" His helm tilts up to your face that you cover with your hands. Your brain is too busy trying to decide if he's awed or offended by the newly reveled information. You try to press your thighs together.

"I'm sorry," you plead between the palms on your face.

Din hooks his hands roughly under your knees and jerks. You're dragged over the bed until your bare ass is seated at the end of the bed and then he pushes your knees up and apart and just... just stares. It's enough of a sight to have you peaking from behind your hands. "Are you sore?"

Fuck, you were supposed to be fighting not... not... well, what even was this? Some kind of slut-shaming? Was it bad that you were this turned on by it. The morbid curiosity was battling the mortification at being examined by the Mandalorian bounty hunter in this manner. His fingers were squeezing and massaging where they rested under your knees, trying to coax an answer from you. "Ah... a little, I suppose."

"Doesn't sound bruised to me."

You gulp.

"Don't move." How could you? You were petrified and incredibly, embarrassingly aroused. He lifts his hands from your legs, leaving you hanging on whatever he decided to torture you with.

The last thing you expect is for those gloves to make their way to his belt and unbuckle it. "I said, 'don't move'," he repeats, pausing in his movements. It's only when he says that you notice you've propped yourself up to get a better view of him. Suddenly bashful, you sink back down to your back. "Open them further," he rumbles lowly. None of his words seem to have any aggression despite his aggressive actions. His town maybe low and he might be ordering you around but there is no real bark to him. It's raspy in a way that you've never heard from him. Drawn out slow in a way that indicates he's in no rush. The balance has you spinning.

But fuck, pulling his pants open and you nearly wheeze when a he palms your forehead, pushing it back into the bed while he reaches within the confides of his clothes. Your left with only a view of the ceiling and his wrist. His bronzed skin peaks out just a hair. "You don't get to look."

"Oh, shit," you breathe, squeezing your eyes shut. What sort of wet dream were you stuck in? There was no way-

Something runs across your most sensitive area, something too thick to be a finger. You gasp and arch as it hits your oversensitive clit right off the bat. A little 'ah' leaves you for only a moment. "It's your eyes," he says and you think you've missed something when he wheezes it out. Then he lines up and slowly, maker, so slowly and completely unhindered, he's breaching you with the cock you've been dreaming of for months. You give a torn moan and arch up, grasping at the sheets. Still it's quiet because of all the things tonight, this is the last thing you want the kid seeing. "Ca-can't speak when... when you look at me." Heat blooms in your chest. He's still pushing deeper. He sinks against your cervix like no one's done before and pushes against it. When his pelvis meets yours, it's stretching you almost painfully. Your cervix is straining at the intrusion. It's lewd how wet it sounds already.

"Din," you sigh.

He gives a shaky groan when you squeeze around him. "Sh-should've told you 'no'," he admits, drawing back. And then he drives back in with force enough to make you cry out, and open further for him. "Ruin you," he murmurs with such a slur you wonder if he's drunk on it. And then his hips start to canter deep and hard. Not fast. Just deep and hard, stretching you beyond what you think you can. You're left mewling and trembling beneath him. "Should go... shove my...," he curses and his hand shifts from your forehead to your throat. "Shove my blaster, ah, kriff, down Vanth's throat."

Wait, he was jealous? Fuck, did that make you clamp down on him.

"Shit, like that?" He rasps out, still like he's whispering to you. "Want you," he promises, lower down so his chest is pinning you to the bed. He's so heavy, but you don't feel like you're breathing anyway. "All the time."

Please, don't let this be another delusion. Please.

"Did-did you just say... say that you saw me... to piss me off?" He urges.

"No," your arms tangle around him, grasping for purchase on his back. "No, I want you so- Kriff! Feels so good - want you so bad, s-saw you the whole time." He shudders in your hold, rolling the cool helmet against your neck as he continued his unhurried pace. He was going to kill you at this rate. "Please," you beg, "Please, Din. F-faster. Need it."

"No, I'm using you," he responds. A hand grips your hip and it's like he doesn't know whether he wants to push you further into the bed or pull you closer.

A familiar feeling rises in you, another orgasm creeping closer. The thought is pushed from your mind as the other hand covers your eyes. The one gripping your hip disappears and then something drops onto the bed. "Don't... don't look." Unmodulated and raw. Din is kissing you then. His mouth wet and hot and welcoming in this inferno of a hut.

He tastes so good and his tongue slips against yours eagerly. You would tear your eyes out if it meant you could feel his soft stubble against your mouth like this. You moan into his mouth and he eats it up with a particularly hard thrust. "Stay," he groans. "Be mine, be mine, be mine, bemine, beminebeminebemine...." he mantras like he can't breathe. His hips are finally moving faster.

"Yours," you promise, "Yours, yours, yours." You've lost your mind, unable to even conjure why you were mad at him in the first place because this sweet haze was too thick to look through and it takes you a moment to realize it’s a slow orgasm releasing. It’s not overwhelming, it’s just hot and sticky. It has you stretching across the sheets. His teeth sink into your neck as you shake below him. He settles down when you begin your own mantra. Instead, he grinds deeply into you. You're only vaguely aware of the way you both grasp and tug each other closer.

It's not long after before he spills himself into you with a string of expletives. "I'm sorry," he whispers against your neck. It's so nice to feel his breath for once.

"Me too." And nothing else seemed to be needed for it. It's not long before he's rocking his hips and spill his own seed out around himself.

You kind of like his beskar in this instance. The room feels too hot and it's cool against you both. Yeah, you could get used to this. Maybe tomorrow you'll remember what you're supposed to be fighting about.

Taglist: 

@lxdyred​, and I promised to tag you in this, Ava, have some iffy smut. @buttercup--bee​

[justthehiddleswrites]

My Sweater | Tom Hiddleston x Reader

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x Reader

Summary:  You both said some stupid things but when you brought up his past relationship you took it too far. Now you are at home dealing with the aftermath of the break-up with rom-com movies and ice cream when a knock on the door brings an unexpected guest.

Warnings: fluff, slight angst

-

For the last three weeks in a row, you had spent your weekend hunkered down in your apartment, drowning your sorrows in pints of ice cream. Everything had been going perfectly. You were dating the man of your dreams and the relationship had been going fantastic. And then your stupid mouth got in the way. To be fair, you had both said hurtful things but you had made the deepest cuts. As you tend to do when you are angry but know you are in the wrong, you resorted to attacking the other person.

“I should have known better than to get involved with someone who would date a…pop star.”

Those last two words were dripping with contempt and disdain. You knew it would hurt him and hurt him deep. His relationship with her had always been a sore spot and pretty much off limits.

“GET… OUT!” Tom bellowed and gestured wildly towards the door.

His face was an unappealing shade of red and his nostrils were flared. You were so taken aback that you gathered your purse and phone and stormed towards the door. But you couldn’t stop from taking one more jab.

“You will regret this Hiddleston, I swear it!”

And with that you slammed the door behind you.

But he hadn’t regretted it, you had. By the next morning, your head cleared and you realized how stupid you had been. You had tried calling him to apologize but he was screening your calls. And certainly he wasn’t answering his door. Hell, even Luke wouldn’t give you the time of day. So you resigned yourself to moping around your apartment and watching crap romantic comedies on the TV. Oh and an enormous amount of ugly crying and junk food was on the agenda as well. You hadn’t changed your clothes in days. You had found one of Tom’s sweaters in your room, left behind after one evening. It still smelled of his cologne. You had taken to wearing it constantly, even to bed.

Just as you finished When Harry Met Sally and were getting ready to start While You Were Sleeping, you heard a knock on the front door. You had not been expecting any of your friends coming over. Although for the first few days a virtual parade of friends appeared to commiserate with you over the break-up. But that had stopped a while ago.

You peeked through the spy hole to see a tall lanky male figure standing at your door, holding a box. Shit. It was Tom.

You quickly wiped away the tear trails off your cheeks and prayed your breath was passable. Taking a deep breath, you opened the door to face the music.

Tom had turned to leave but you called out to stop him.

“Hey.”

“I have your stuff,” he responded coldly.

He shoved the box into your hands. You didn’t realize it had come to this. This break-up was really happening.

“Come in. I will get your stuff together,” you replied.

You left the door opened and he followed. He stood in the living room as though he had never been there before. awkwardly looking around. Tom could see the aftermath of your fight on you. The trash bin was overflowing with candy wrappers and ice cream cartons. There were crumpled Kleenex strewn about the couch and coffee table as well several empty soda cans and coffee mugs.

His mood soften just a bit. He had come over with every intention of ending the relationship. He had thought you heartless and rigid and as an actor he needed a partner who could be flexible and understanding. But surveying your home, he knew he had it all wrong. This had a devastating effect on you.

You emerged from your bedroom with a small box of items. You were sniffling and it was clear you had been crying while gathering the belongings in the bedroom. Even at your worst, Tom still found you adorable.

“Here is your stuff. I’m not sure if it is all of it, But if I find anything else, I will just mail it out to you. “

You sighed deeply and mustered the last of your courage and dignity to say what you needed to. It was now or never.

“Listen Tom, I know I was out of line. And I have no excuse other than it is what I always do but still I should not have said what I said. I am so sorry. I know you are done with me. But I just want you to know I would give anything to take it back and start over,” you said rapidly.

You took a couple of deep breath as tears began welling up in your eyes as the last of your composure crumbled in front of the man you had fallen in love with. You turned so Tom wouldn’t see you crying.

“My sweater.” he replied.

Without turning, you asked, “ Your sweater?”

“Yes, you are wearing my sweater. It is my favorite and I would like it back, please.”

You were shocked at his reaction. You had expected something more than just a request for his sweater. A response, more yelling, something. But this was so cold, so unlike the Tom you knew. What you couldn’t see was the small grin on Tom’s face and the subtle shake of shoulders as he stifled his laughter.

Back still turned you took off the sweater, leaving you in just your bra and underwear. Feeling self-conscious, you wrapped your arms around your body as you handed the sweater over your shoulder. You had resisted the urge to throw it in his face.

“There you go. That’s everything. Now if there is nothing else, you know the way out and have a good life.”

Tom cleared his throat.

“Actually there is something else…”

You whipped around, interrupting him.

“What else can you possibly take from me? I am standing here bare both physically and emotionally. You have literally taken the clothes off my back,” you sobbed.

Tom chuckled and stepped forward, pulling a handkerchief from his pants pocket. He wiped the tears from your face and placed a soft kiss on each of your cheeks.

“What I was saying before you interrupted me. Again. Was that I need you to shower and put some proper clothes on, so we can go to a coffee shop to talk about this relationship going forward.”

Your jaw dropped open.

“What are you saying?”

He smiled and placed a chaste kiss on your lips.

“I am saying let’s try again. We can’t start over but we can move forward. But it will take better communication…from both of us. So get dressed before I change my mind,” he smiled and you smiled back.

You hustled off to the bathroom to wash the weeks of inertia and self-loathing off you. While you were in there, Tom cleaned up the living room and kitchen and as you emerged in clean jeans and t-shirt, he was just started your dishwasher.

“Ready.”

You grabbed your purse and Tom led you out the building. You were happy to be out and with Tom and you were eternally grateful for this second chance. You promised yourself not to squander it.

[your-eternal-muse]

Wish I Were....

Heather Series Chapter 12 (FINAL PART)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11

Bonus!:Readers Card Confession Bonus!:To Hold On, To Let Go, Spencers take Bonus!:Series Playlist

Summery: Reader no longer wishes she were someone else

Words: 4k

Warnings: Swearing, Description of Birth, just pure, tooth aching fluff

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Y/N: This is it y’all. This is the final chapter of the Heather's Series. I started this journey a little over a month ago, and my god, has it been amazing. I never thought it would pick up the traction it did, and I am so glad I decided to start posting in the first place. I’m gonna take a short break from posting any writing just to recuperate and stuff, but it won’t last longer than a week, and I will still be interacting on the platform itself. I want to thank every single reader who has liked and/or reblogged my work. It means so much to me, and I would not have gotten this far without your support. I love you all with all of my heart. There will be one more bonus “chapter” that I will be posting within the next couple days, but it’ll be mostly headcanons, and answering any questions you may have about the series. I hope the ending is worth it. 

With love, your eternal muse,

Frankie <3

~~~~~

I used to be a night owl.

I used to live in the night, sit under the stars and soak it all up.

I used to not go to bed until hours after the sunset, perfectly content to not waking up until hours after it had risen.

Now, I’m lucky to sleep for a few hours between dusk and dawn.

But I’m okay with that.

The ringing of trembling tears echoes through my ears, and I stir awake.

I rub my face, looking at the clock as I push back the comforter.

4 am.

Oh goody.

“I’ve got her baby, go back to sleep.”

Spencer whispers in my ear, planting a kiss on my shoulder, and I’m not one to argue.

I fall back into the pillows, pulling the blanket back up to my chin, my eyes closing without much resistance.

I wake an hour late, expecting to feel his body warmth against my back.

I turn, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes, realizing that the blanket is still pulled back from when he got up the hour before.

Oh dear lord please tell me she didn’t get sick.

I climb out of bed, padding down the hallway towards the soft glow of light emitting from her room.

I pause at the doorway, watching as he holds her close to his chest, a smile draped across his face.

I can’t help but stand and watch as he sways back and forth, watching her sleep in his arms.

I notice her tiny hand is clasped around his ring finger, the gold of his wedding band glowing in the dim light.

I love that ring on him.

I never thought I’d be the one to put it on him.

My heart is pounding in my chest.

Why am I so nervous?

He’s not going to leave me stranded.

Right?

Jesus, get a grip, y/n.

“Are you ready y/n?” Hotch walks around the corner, fixing his cuff links as he walks up to me.

I take a deep breath in, trying to convince myself that I wasn’t going to throw up.

“Yep. I’m ready, I just….” I fan myself. “Is it normal to feel like you’re going to pass out on your wedding day?”

He smiles, coming forward and taking hold of my hand. “It is. And I guarantee you, he’s worse than you are.”

I laugh, just imagining the state he’s in.

He hasn’t seen me in three days, since I’m a stickler for tradition.

It was my bachelorette party, than his bachelor party, and now here we are.

“When Haley and I got married, I was a nervous wreck. I don’t think I took a normal breath until hours after just because I was so worried about everything going to plan.”

He brushes some of the curls framing my face out of my eye sight.

“But, when I met her eyes, it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. It was just us, and I knew, at that moment, that everything would be okay.”

I nod, exhaling. “Okay. I’m ready.”

He loops my arm through his, turning to the closed doors where my future waits for me.

“Thank you, Aaron. For giving me away. You’re the closest thing to a father I’ve got.”

He pats my hand. “It’s my honor, y/n.”

I hear the start of the music, and my heart jump starts. 

I grip his arm, trying to control my breathing. 

“Don’t let me fall.”

“Never.”

The doors open, and for a moment, I panic.

But then my eyes meet his.

And everything else disappears.

His hands are clasped in front of him, and I see him look me over, taking in everything.

Tears are streaming down both of our faces, and god, I never realized how much I missed him when he’s gone.

We reach the altar, where a proud Rossi stands, and Hotch hands me off with a kiss to my cheek.

I hand JJ my flowers, turning clasping Spencer's hands in mine.

When my hand touches his, my breathing returns to normal.

However, before I even notice, JJ is handing me a folded piece of paper that holds my vows.

Weddings always seem longer when you’re not in them.

I unfold the paper, clearing my throat.

“I don’t have an eidetic memory, so I need this so I don’t make a fool of myself.”

A couple laughs from the crowd.

Okay, here goes nothing.

“The first time I saw you, you were sitting at your desk, while Derek and JJ sat around you, watching you explain the scientific inaccuracies of Star Wars.”

He laughs, and Derek pats his shoulder from behind him.

“I was awestruck to say the least. The way your eyes lit up with excitement, how your hands couldn’t stay still.”

I take a breath, trying to keep the tears at bay.

“I fell in love with you at that moment. But I knew I was done for when you looked at me for the first time.”

Rossi produces a tissue from his pocket, and I laugh, accepting and blotting at my tears.

“You are my best friend. You are there for me in my darkest times, and are often the cause of all my light ones. You hold me when I cry, and you laugh when I’m angry at something stupid. You never make me feel stupid. You are the greatest thing to have ever happened to me.”

Christ, why was this so hard?

“I love you. And I promise to cherish you, and not get annoyed when you ramble on about god knows what, because I love to listen to you talk. I promise to never make you feel like you don’t matter, because you matter so much. I promise to love you through thick and thin, in sickness and in health, until the end of time itself. I choose you, forever and always.”

I fold the paper up again, dabbing away my tears.

“Well, look at that, I still made a fool of myself.”

More laughs, and I hear a few sniffles here and there. 

Spencer wipes his own eyes. “I don’t know if I can top that.”

I giggle.

He goes into his jacket, and pulls out a white envelope, and my face scrunches in confusion.

“It’s not what you think it is.” He whispers.

He opens it, pulling out a car, and begins to read from the inside.

“You told me once, in a card similar to this one, that the moment you admitted to yourself that you loved me, was on a road trip to visit my mom. I thought it fitting that I tell you that, that was the moment I admitted to myself that I loved you in the same way. So here we are.”

I bring a hand up to my mouth, covering the ugly sobs that threaten to spill out.

“We had only known each other for a month, but you were easily taking over every brain cell in my mind. I was terrified of you saying no, but I asked anyway. Those two weeks were some of the best of my life. I fell in love with your laugh, your smile, the way your hair looks in the sunlight. I fell in love with you from the driver's seat and I’ve loved you ever since. You deserve to be reminded of that every day for the rest of your life. I promise to hold and cherish the heart that you have given me. I promise to catch you, every time you run away. I promise to protect you with my life. You mean everything to me, and I can’t wait to spend the rest of forever with you. I love you, forever and always.”

He closes it, and it takes a moment for me to gather myself.

“I promise I didn’t look at your vows before writing mine.”

I laugh.

Rossi clears his throat. “The rings please, Henry.”

Henry walks forward, our rings sitting on the pillow as he smiles at us. 

“Thank you buddy.” I say, taking hold of Spencer’s between my fingers.

“Alright. Y/n, repeat after me. I, Y/n Y/l/n, take Spencer Reid, to be my husband.”

I repeat the words, a smile growing bigger and bigger on my face.

“To have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish until the end of time.”

Can I kiss him yet?

I say the words, like casting a spell, before slipping the golden band onto his finger.

Rossi repeats the phrase, and Spencer’s smile is as big as mine, if not bigger.

“Until the end of time.”

He delicately slips the ring on my finger, and my heart starts pounding.

“One more question for each of you. I promise, we're almost there.”

He smiles at each of us, before turning back to me.

“Do you, Y/n Y/l/n, take Spencer Reid as your lawfully wedded husband?”

“I do.”

Not even a question.

“And do you, Spencer Reid, take Y/n Y/l/n as your lawfully wedded wife?”

“I do.”

I start bouncing on my toes, too excited to care.

“Then it is my great pleasure and honor to pronounce you, husband and wife.”

He turns to Spencer. “You may now kiss the bride.”

He doesn’t hesitate, cradling my face in his hands as he places his lips on mine.

It’s just me and him, in an empty room.

I move my hands up his chest, wrapping my arms around his neck.

It’s only when we break, that I remember people are here, and the room is filled with applause.

With our hands clasped together we walk back down the aisle, and I swear I am never going to be this happy ever again. And that’s okay.

My eyes fall from his arms, to the dresser sitting next to her crib. 

The top is covered with photos, personalized trinkets, and books. 

One picture is framed with her name in gold lettering down the side.

My first sonogram.

Through the glass I can see wrinkles in the film.

Spencer carried it with him until the day she was born.

He had always mentioned how he wanted to have kids someday.

It didn’t make me any less nervous to tell him, though.

“Hello?”

“Hi! Is this Mrs. Y/n Reid?”

I stop writing, my pen mid stroke on my paper.

“This is she.”

“Hello! This is Nicole calling from United Health with the results of your pregnancy test.”

Jesus that was fast.

“Oh! That was quicker than I expected.”

I set my pen down, closing my file, pushing some hair behind my ear, looking around to see if anyone was in ear shot.

They weren’t.

“We get that a lot. But, I’d like to say congratulations! You are pregnant!”

I stop breathing for a moment.

“Oh my god. Oh my god! Thank you!”

Holy shit.

Holy fucking shit.

“You’re so welcome! Congratulations again! Have a great rest of your day!”

I hang up, still trying to grasp the words that have just been spoken to me.

I’m pregnant.

I’m fucking pregnant.

Holy fuck.

“Y/n? Baby, are you okay?”

I snap out of my daze to see Spencer standing beside my desk, a look of skeptical worry on his face.

“Uh...yeah. Yeah. I’m fine. Um…”

I have to tell him. I can’t keep this a secret from him, even if I wanted to try and surprise him.

I stand, running my hands over my pants.

“Okay, somethings wrong. You do that when you’re nervous.”

I can’t help but laugh, placing a hand on his shoulder. 

“Nothings wrong, Spence. Um, I just got a call from United Health.”

He’s confused, setting the file in his hand, down on my desk.

“Why would United Health be calling you?”

There are days when I can't believe he has an I.Q. of 187.

“I went in yesterday, to get a test done. I’ve been gaining weight, and I’ve been getting sick in the mornings. I also skipped my last period.”

I can sense the wheels beginning to turn in his head.

“Wait. Are you…”

I nod, tears falling down my cheeks. “I’m pregnant, Spencer.”

It takes a moment for the words to register in his brain, but then he’s yelling in excitement, throwing his arms around my waist, picking me up and spinning me around.

He sets me down, his eyes red rimmed, his smile one I will never forget.

“You’re pregnant. Oh my god we’re having a baby.”

His hands are placed on either side of my face, and I can’t help but laugh at his infectious excitement.

“Who’s having a baby, now?”

Derek walks up, and Spencer turns, and I know Derek knows just by the shit eating grin on Spencer’s face.

But I just love saying it.

“I’m pregnant.”

Derek’s eyes light up as he claps his hands together, before pulling Spencer into a hug. “My man!”

JJ and Emily gather around, all smiles and squeals as I’m captured in the middle of a group hug.

Penelope walks into the bullpen then, confusion written across her face.

“What’s going on out here? Why are you guys screaming? Who won the lottery?”

I bite my lip, trying to hold back the smile.

“I’m pregnant!” I all but scream.

Penelope’s expression changes in an instant as she practically runs forward.

“Oh my god! Holy crap! Baby genius! That’s so much better than the lottery!” 

She catches me in a bone crushing hug before suddenly pulling back.

“Crap. Sorry. Fragile baby.”

“Congratulations baby girl.” Derek swaps places with Penelope, who is now hugging Spencer with everything she has.

“Alright, why are you guys hugging each other?”

Rossi and Hotch walk through the glass doors, taking in the commotion.

I feel Spencer wrap his arms around me from behind, as he kisses my shoulder, my neck, my cheek.

“I’m pregnant!”

A smile immediately forms on Rossi’s face as he comes forward, grasping my face between his hands, kissing me on each of my cheeks.

“Congratulations, principessa.”

“Congratulations, to both of you.”

Hotch is smiling, waiting his turn to give hugs.

“It’s decided, celebratory dinner at my place tonight!” Rossi announces and we all cheer.

I turn my head, placing my hands over Spencer’s which are now resting over my stomach.

“I love you.” I smile.

“I love you, too. Both of you.”

Soft humming breaks the silence of the room, and quiet words float through the air as he sings to her sleeping form.

“Come Josephine, in my flying machine. Going up she goes, up she goes.”

I enter the room then, tip toeing over to stand by his side, leaning my head against his shoulder as I gently stroke her hair.

“Up, up, a little bit higher. Oh! My! The moon is on fire! Come, Josephine in my flying machine going up, all on, goodbye!”

She’s tiny.

I couldn’t fathom how tiny she was a month ago, and she has grown, but she’s still so small.

Has it already been a month?

“Jesus fuck, I  promised myself this wouldn’t happen at work.”

I shouldn’t have come in.

I know that.

I know that waking up with contractions is a tell tale sign that you should not go to work.

But she isn’t due for another two weeks. Two weeks is a long time. Hopefully enough time to get a grip on myself so I don’t panic that I’m gonna fail as a mother every time I think about it too hard.

I thought maybe I could just get through the day, but the warm stream trickling down my leg is a big fuck no to that.

I’m trying to steady my breathing, the cup of tea I was making abandoned on the counter as I grip the edge with a force I didn’t know I had.

“Y/n? Is everything okay?”

Hotch walks up, worry creasing his brow.

He places a hand on my back, a comfort as pain ripples up and down my spine.

I shake my head. “I need Spencer.”

I shift my weight from leg to leg. “And a towel.”

He nods his head, looking around for a chair, frowning when he comes up empty.

“Aaron,” I say, turning my head towards him. “Please go get my husband.”

“Right.” He nods, taking a second to make sure I wasn’t going to topple over before almost running towards Penelope's bat cave.

A hiss escapes my mouth as I feel a jab in my side.

“Yeah, I know baby, I wish he would hurry the fuck up too.”

A plethora of footsteps fall upon my ears, and Spencer immediately places a hand on my lower back, taking hold of mine with his other.

“How far apart are they?” is the first thing out of his mouth.

“I’m fine, honey, thanks for asking.” I say as we start to make our way towards the front glass doors.

He gives me a look and I sigh.

“I don’t know. I thought if I didn’t count they’d go away and I could pretend this isn’t happening at work.”

“I wish it worked like that.” JJ laughs, holding open the door and what I presume is my go bag.

“Me too.” I grit, squeezing Spencer’s hand.

“Remember our deal. Not one statistic, or fact is to be uttered from your mouth today. You are not a doctor once we enter the hospital.”

I can see the panic start to form on his face, but he laughs.

“Yes ma’am.”

~~~

I’m never doing this again.

I don’t think I’ve ever been in this much pain before.

I’ve been in this room for what feels like forever, because she’s taking her sweet time being early.

No amount of pillows or soothing rubs can help the aches that are washing over me.

My hair is falling from the bun I threw it up in, sweat coating every inch of skin I have.

I feel gross in every sense of the word.

I lean forward and groan as another contraction rips through me.

How do women do this?

Spencer brushes some hair out of my face and lays a cool washcloth on my neck as I grip the side rails of my bed.

“You’re doing so good baby.”

It feels like I can’t breath.

“I don’t know how much longer I can do this.”

He knows there’s not much he can do right now to help, but he holds my hand, trailing his hand up and down my back.

“Just a little bit longer. I promise. She’s almost here. You’re doing so good, y/n. I’m so proud of you.”

If only he knew about the panic flowing through my veins, the thoughts that I’m not ready to be a mom bouncing around my skull like an insistent headache.

A knock at the door, and my doctor walks in, smiles and bright eyes. “How are you feeling, y/n?”

“Like a,” I groan, trying to move away from the pain, shifting forward and backwards. “Like a million bucks.”

She laughs, and I don’t have the energy to be nice and laugh with her.

“Well, I still need to check, but I’m pretty sure you’re ready to push.”

I close my eyes, not wanting to look as she sticks her fingers in a place that will need some R&R after this. 

“I was right. You’re ready. Now, your body knows exactly what to do. It’s best to not fight it, and just listen to what it’s telling you okay?”

I start to move myself back away from her, my breathing picking up pace.

I can’t do this.

“No. No. I can’t. I’m not ready.”

She doesn’t seem phased at all, but Spencer easily notices the fear in my voice. 

“Hey, Hey, Hey. Look at me.” His hands stroke the sides of my face, and his fingers are wet from my tears and sweat.

I shake my head. “I’m not doing this. I’m not ready. What if I fail? I don’t want to fail her. I can’t. No. I’m gonna be a horrible mother.”

“Y/n, baby, breath with me.” He takes my hand, and places it on his chest.

I can feel his breaths beneath his breastbone, the frantic heartbeats that give away his true state of mind.

I hate that I’m stressing him out.

“You are going to be a great mother. One of the best. I don’t think you could fail even if you tried.”

He brushes my tears away. “But you can’t force your body to stop. You need to let go. I’m right here.”

“Alright, were ready, y/n.”

My eyes pass between Spencer’s and I know he’s right.

I just need to let go.

I nod, and I move back to where I was. 

My left hand grips the rail, while my right is situated inside Spencer’s. 

I feel the next contraction start. 

“Alright I need you to push for me.” 

I’m on the brink of a mental breakdown, but I take a breath and let my muscles do the work.

I hear that groaning and screaming can actually help, so that’s what I do. 

With every push, my voice grows louder, words lost in the back of my throat.

But I’m getting tired, and I can feel myself crashing. 

So when another contraction pulses through me, I push myself forward, and use every muscle in my body.

“Get out, get out, get out, GET OUT!” 

I don’t think I’ve ever screamed that loud, but it seemed to work.

It felt like a gush and then crys fill the room.

I fall back onto the bed, tears streaming down my face.

“She’s beautiful!” I hear my doctor say over her screams.

Spencer kisses my forehead, his own tears coating his face. “You were amazing, baby. I’m so proud of you.”

“Here she is!”

My doctor lays a bundle of white blankets onto my chest, and when I see her face, my heart stops. 

The world could be burning around me, but I wouldn’t care. Even covered in gunk and red faced, she’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. 

I sob, holding her close to me, Spencer right there beside me, his hand gently stroking the top of her head. 

“Hi, Ettie.” I whisper. “We’ve been waiting for you.”

“She’s so beautiful.” He whispers, his voice thick with emotion. 

I can’t take my eyes off her. I never want to let go of her.

Nothing else matters anymore, nothing but her.

Juliet Diana Reid.

Born at 6:08 am, on the third of December.

He places her in my arms, and I clutch her close to my chest as I move back towards her crib to lay her down again.

I don’t understand how I could have ever doubted how amazing my life would be with her in it.

Soft snores emit from her small mouth, and Spencer wraps his arms around my waist, resting his chin on my shoulder, only moving when he hears me sniffle.

“Why are you crying, love?” he whispers

I wipe my face, turning around so I can face him.

His hands are on my hips, his thumbs rubbing circles on my skin.

“For so long, I was jealous of so many people.” My hands play with the fabric of his t-shirt, rubbing it between my fingers.

“I was jealous of Heather. Of what she had.”

My hands move up his chest, coming to rest at the base of his neck. 

“I dreamed about this. About having this with you. And I never thought I would get it. But here I am.”

I smile up at him. “I have everything I have ever wanted. I wouldn’t wish for another life even if it was offered. I have you, and Ettie, and the life I wanted so bad. I’m just…”

I swallow the noise threatening to spill from my throat, so I don’t wake up the sleeping girl behind me. 

“I’m just really happy is all.”

He smiles softly down at me, and he brings up a hand to cup my cheek. 

He leans down and kisses me slowly, gently, in a way that always leaves me paralyzed. 

“I love you.” He whispers. 

I nuzzle my nose against his, before laying my head against his chest, feeling his arms wrap around me, holding me tight against him. 

“I love you, too.”

I love you, Spencer.

I love you.

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[searchingwardrobes]

It’s Been . . . a DAY 1/3

Yeah, I've got WIPs, but yeah, this came to me. My oldest, years ago, had to pee really bad and NO ONE would let me use their bathroom. An insurance office, of all places, took pity on me, and my kid proceeded to pee on their bathroom floor. I burst into tears, and the woman there hugged me and told me how her kids peed in all kinds of places when they were potty training. The people were so nice, they refused to let me clean it up. I've never forgotten that act of kindness, and I likely never will. So that's the inspiration for this story which will have three parts.

Summary: Emma Swan bursts into Killian's life in spectacular fashion - when her three year old pees on his office floor. Nevertheless, Killian is mesmerized by this tenacious woman. Perhaps fate will let them cross paths again . . .

Rated: G

Words: Just shy of 2k

Also on Ao3

Tagging the usuals: @kmomof4  @snowbellewells @whimsicallyenchantedrose @xhookswenchx @teamhook @let-it-raines @winterbythesea @spartanguard @shireness-says @superchocovian @thesschesthair @resident-of-storybrooke @vvbooklady1256 @hookedonapirate @ultraluckycatnd @hollyethecurious @welllpthisishappening @wellhellotragic @bethacaciakay @optomisticgirl @lfh1226-linda @ilovemesomekillianjones @ekr032-blog-blog @itsfabianadocarmo @profdanglaisstuff @thisonesatellite​ (sorry if I forgot anyone - I am really tired right now!)

Chapter One: 

“Can we use your bathroom, please?”

Jones & Jones Accounting Firm isn’t your stereotypical lifeless, silent establishment, just as the Jones brothers don’t look like your stereotypical accountants. Nevertheless, the frazzled blonde bursts in upon a moment of intense concentration. It’s tax season, after all. Killian takes in said blonde, her hair a wild disarray and tension in her shoulders. She’s clearly not having the best day. A squirming three year old grips her hand, doing what Liam and Elsa always call “the potty dance.”

All four employees of Jones & Jones (it technically should be Jones, Jones, & Jones, but Elsa said that was far too pretentious) hurriedly assure the woman, “yes, yes, of course,” leaping to their feet, hovering, oozing politeness, and pointing to the end of the hall to the facilities. The woman practically weeps in relief.

“Pee pee now, Mama!” the child cries, and his mother scoops him up, holding him out in front of her as she races for the toilet. It’s another maneuver Killian is familiar with thanks to Liam and Elsa - or his nephew, to be more specific.

The blonde - he really wants to know her name - sets the boy down in front of the toilet. In her haste she doesn’t even bother to shut the door.

It’s too late.

Before she can even get the child’s pants down, a yellow puddle is spreading at his feet.

“I’m so sorry,” she gasps to the adults still unhelpfully hovering.

Then she starts ugly crying. Somehow, Killian knows this is out of character for her.

The boy begins to cry in earnest too. Liam and Elsa race off, most likely to take care of this, as the only two adults at Jones & Jones with kids. Ariel, who knows nothing about personal space and has never met a stranger, puts a comforting arm around the blonde.

“It’s okay, lass,” Killian assures, “really.”

“How can it be okay? We burst in here and peed on your floor!”

Killian bites the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling or pointing out that only the lad did the actual peeing.

Liam appears with a roll of paper towels and a mop. “Accidents happen,” he tells the young mother cheerfully. “Potty training?”

“Yes!” the woman practically wails. “He’s three, so I know we should be done -“

“Ours is three too,” Elsa interrupts as she pushes a stack of clothes into her arms, “and he still has accidents. Which is why I have a spare set of clothes in my desk drawer.”

“Oh, spare clothes,” the woman mutters, shuffling through the massive bag slung over one shoulder. “Shit, he peed on those yesterday.”

He continues to sob as Liam lifts him out of his yellow puddle.

“So take these,” Elsa insists once again. “My name is Elsa, by the way.”

“Emma,” the blonde answers with a trembling chin as she takes the clothes, “and I never fall apart like this with strangers.” She chuckles sardonically. “Hell, I don’t do it with people I do know, but we’ve just had the worst time. Henry said he had to go, but every shop on this street said no when I begged for a bathroom. I was trying to buy him a pair of shoes. I mean, who the hell opens a kids’ thrift store and doesn’t put in a public bathroom?”

Killian once again bites his lip at the heat in her voice. He believes her when she insists that she rarely falls apart. She’s feisty and tough as nails - no question.

“Well,” Liam says, stuffing the wastebasket with sodden paper towels, “I’ve gotten most of it so you can change your lad out of his wet things. I’ll mop up when you’re done.”

Emma looks at each of them in turn, her eyes wide and glistening with unshed tears. “Why are you all being so nice?”

It’s clear from the way she says it that kindness has been rare in her life. It makes Killian wonder about the boy’s father. She isn’t wearing a ring, but that doesn’t mean the man isn’t around. Whoever he is, he’s done nothing to ease that look of mistrust in her eyes.

“Because it’s clear you’re having a rough day,” Killian tells her gently, “and we’ve all been there.”

“Some of us literally,” quips Liam, and Elsa laughs.

“Your office was the sixth place I tried,” Emma whispers. “I never would have asked to use a bathroom in a business office if I wasn’t desperate.”

The boy - Henry - is still sniffling. “Was I a bad boy, Mama?”

“Oh baby, no,” Emma croons, falling to her knees before her son. “Even a big person might have had an accident holding it as long as you had to.”

Her soft voice melts the little boy, and he collapses wearily into his mother’s arms for comfort. Emma obliges, heedless of the child’s smelly dampness. She’s a good mother, that’s clear. The businesses on this street however? Killian clenches his jaw as he mentally ticks them off: the thrift store Emma had mentioned, a sporting goods store, a ladies boutique, a children’s book store, a jewelry store, and then Jones & Jones. Every single one had no reason to deny the desperate mother and child an exception to their “employees only” restrooms.

“Next time, love,” Killian says to the resilient mother before him, “you just stride right back to the bathroom no matter what they say.”

“Yeah,” Ariel agrees, anger flashing in her eyes, “I understand why they might not want a public bathroom, but surely they could see it was an emergency.”

“You just tell them it’s either let you use their bathroom or your kid’s gonna pee right on their floor,” Elsa grumbles. She’s clearly pissed - pun completely intended - or she wouldn’t have spoken with such poor diction.

Emma laughs, her face more at ease than it has been since she arrived. “I’ll remember that next time. Desperate times call for desperate measures.”

“And potty training is definitely a desperate time,” Liam commiserates.

They leave Emma and Henry alone then so she can change his clothes. When mother and son exit the bathroom, they both look much calmer.

“I can’t say thank you enough,” Emma tells them. “I’ll come back by tomorrow to return the clothes.”

Elsa waves away her offer. “No worries. Those are pretty worse for wear. Ian won’t miss them, I promise.”

“Ian Jones, I’m guessing?” Emma asks. “That’s a nice name.”

“It’s a nickname, actually,” Liam tells her from where he’s mopping the bathroom. “He’s named after this git of a brother, over here.”

“Oi, but you did name him after me, didn’t you?” Killian shoots back.

“Nickname, huh?” Emma asks with a tilt of her head and a teasing smile. “Short for . . . ?”

“Killian.” Is it just his imagination, or is she flirting with him? “Killian Jones.”

He extends his hand, and she takes it.

“Emma Swan.”

A last name! His heart soars. “It suits you.”

Emma’s smile brightens even as she rolls her eyes. No, it isn’t his imagination - she is flirting. “I bet you say that to all the girls.”

“Only the ones with kids who pee in my office.”

She tilts her head back and lets out a full-throated laugh. It does something to his heart - makes it expand or something equally cheesy. Her cheeks are pink as she looks at him while tugging at the ends of her hair.

“So . . . um, I still feel kind of bad about that.” Her nose wrinkles, and he notices the light dusting of freckles there.

“Well, you could make it up to us by staying and having dinner. It will be here any minute: sub sandwiches and practically a whole salad bar. Ariel always orders way too much.”

“It’s better than running low!” the redhead snaps indignantly.

His smile wavers as he watches a shadow pass over Emma’s face, dimming her eyes. It’s as if he’s watched a wall fall back into place. She shuffles her feet, and ducks her head. Henry meets her gaze, popping a thumb into his mouth.

“I . . . um, think this is a Happy Meal kinda night - right kid?”

“Yay!” Henry cheers, bounding up and down in that jerky way toddlers always have. “Ticken nuggets!”

“Chicken nuggets,” Emma corrects.

“Dat’s what I say,” Henry retorts with a frown.

Killian catches the boys gaze and winks at him. The boy giggles before popping his thumb back in his mouth. Then Killian regards Emma again, weighing the risk of his next question, but he has to know.

“His father is expecting dinner too, perhaps?”

Emma’s eyes narrow, and it’s clear he’s made a serious tactical error. “He certainly isn’t expecting it from me, wherever the hell he is.”

Killian ducks his head. “Apologies, lass.”

Emma sucks in a breath, then lets it out slowly. When she speaks again, it’s with measured calm.

“I thank all of you again, but we really need to go.”

They all talk over one another assuring Emma that it was no trouble at all, but she practically dashes out the door. When it closes, sadness sweeps over Killian at the thought that he’ll probably never see her again.

“Well, you sure mucked that up, little brother.”

Killian glowers at Liam. “Shut it.”

“Leave him alone, babe,” Elsa admonishes gently. “He had to find some way to make sure he wasn’t flirting with a woman who was already taken.”

“You think she was flirting?” Killian asks.

Ariel snorts. “Please. For a minute there, she was practically melting at your feet.”

Killian groans as he runs a hand over his face. “You’re right Liam. I mucked it up.”

“I don’t think so,” Elsa muses, her gaze drifting to the door Emma Swan had just exited. “I think her walls flew back up before you probed about Henry’s dad.”

Killian sinks dejectedly into his desk chair. “And now I’ll probably never see her again.”

“So what?” Liam shoves the mop back into the broom closet before heading back to his own desk. “You only talked to her for like ten minutes.”

“There was an instant connection, though.” Ariel clasps her hands together and practically swoons.

“And you never know,” adds Elsa, “the two of you may cross paths again.”

Killian frowns as he stares at the spreadsheets on his computer screen. He hasn’t been immediately affected by a woman in this manner since Milah. Liam’s right - it’s foolish to read much into their brief meeting.

Yet he can’t help hoping that he’ll see Emma Swan again.

[holylulusworld]

The mobster’s cook

Summary: For years you were Steve’s cook and the girl he turns to if he seeks comfort. One day you have enough of feeling second best.

Pairing: Mobster!Steve x Curvy!Reader, Mobster!Bucky x Curvy!Reader, Tony Stark, OFC’s

Warnings: angst, swearing, arguments, unrequited love, heartbreak, mentions of sex, jealous Steve, shameless ogling (Bucky is not subtle), comforting, fluff, implied smut

You okay there doll?” Bucky asks as he plops onto the chair closest to the kitchen counter. “Y/N? Is something wrong?”

Bucky can see the tears you try to push away and that you swallow hard every time Steve peppers kisses along his latest flings neck. “I am fine, Mr. Barnes. I had a bad night, ‘s all.”

“Doll, you can always talk to me. We are friends after all.” Huffing you shove a plate with Bucky’s favorite breakfast toward the mobster.

“Friends…right. It’s rather you come here to get my food.” Teasing Bucky you give him a cracked smile as the chick Steve brought home climbs onto his lap to nibble at his neck.

“Guys, I want to eat here. Get a room or some manners. Y/N and I do not need to vomit in the morning. Seriously, Steve. You are not a horny teen.” Bucky grumbles and Steve gives his friend a dirty look.

“I am finished with breakfast. Have a great day.” Taking off the apron you toss it onto the counter to storm out of the kitchen to get away from the scene.

“Great…” Glaring at his friend Bucky grabs his plate to run after you. “Not cool to make out in the kitchen, punk…”

Finally, in your room you let the tears fall. Hickuped sobs leave your lips and you barely recognize Bucky entered your room.

“Doll…” Sighing he sits next to you on the bed. “Just tell me what’s wrong with you. Did Steve say something or is it your job?”

“I…it’s stupid…really…” Sniffling you wipe the tears away. “How could I believe I am more than a comfort fuck to him?” Mouth falling open Bucky places the plate onto your nightstand.

“Wait…you and Stevie? Since when?” Rubbing your back gently Bucky waits for you to open to him. “Doll?”

“Years, Bucky. For over three years Steve comes to me if he requires comfort. After a bad day or when the business gets too much. I believed one day he would admit his feelings or crap but…”

Scoffing you get up to glance at the mirror. “Why showing someone like me around when he can have that model chick or all the others.”

“Darling…” Voice raspy Bucky gets up to wipe your tears with his thumb. “You are beautiful, Y/N. I love your curves. When you sway your hips to the music in the kitchen, it gets me going for sure.”

“I appreciate you try to cheer me up, but it’s unnecessary. I was always comfortable with my curves. I have bigger boobs and a nice J-Lo ass, and I like it. I like me but…”

Glancing at the mirror you feel more tears well up to your eyes. “Steve makes me feel like I am a swan when he’s with me and then I feel like an ugly duck when he goes to a party with a model type instead of me. For over four months he didn’t go out with someone else.”

“Y/N…” Bucky can see the hurting in your eyes when you turn around to face him.

“Last week he got an invitation to Tony Stark’s yearly party. I had hope…no I believed this time Steve would take me with him only for him to bring this girl here two days later.” Now you walk toward your wardrobe to get a dress out.

“I bought a dress, Bucky. A fucking expensive dress to go with him.” Sniffling you drop it to the floor. “It was stupid, I know…” While you stand in your room, completely lost Bucky picks the dress up.

It’s a red dress with a long slit, revealing your leg. It has an x cross back neckline and the moment you wore it for the first time – you felt beautiful and believed Steve would love it too.

“I bet you will look stunning when you accompany me at the party,” Bucky smirks as he hands you the dress. “Tomorrow, at eight you’ll be ready.”

“Accompany you?” Blinking a few times, you look at the dress in Bucky’s hands. “Why?”

“I need a plus one and don’t want a random chick hanging on my lips. I want someone I can talk to like an adult. You are smart, sexy and I like you. Now mark the day and we have a date.”

“Wait…uh-seriously? I mean…” Glancing at Bucky you gasp as he roams your body with his eyes. “Don’t you want someone else to go with you?”

“Doll,” pressing his index finger to your lips the mobster shakes his head. “I want to go with you. As I said – I like you, Y/N. Now stop crying. Steve may be my friend, but if he’s too blind to see what he had in you - he can go and fuck himself. Never let him get close to you again.”

“I am a fool – not an idiot, Bucky. I learned my lesson. I thought he would change and gave him time but from now on he can seek comfort somewhere else than in my bed.” Humming Bucky cups your cheek before he gives you a quick kiss.

“Next time, I’ll kiss you the way you deserve it, but you need time to get over that punk. I’ll be at the sideline, waiting for you.” Giving you a dirty grin Bucky turns to leave your room. “By the way. I’d like to bury my head between those thighs…”

“Bucky!” Chuckling the mobster shrugs before he opens the door. “Just saying…”

Making dinner is unpleasant. Steve’s latest fling is playing on her phone, impatiently huffing as the food Steve wanted takes longer than heating a frozen pizza.

“Can she not do this faster, Stevie?” Whining the chick looks at Steve who rolls his eyes. “I am hungry…”

“Sure. You will poke the food with your fork and eat one piece…” Mumbling the words you add more pepper to the sauce. “I suggest you order pizza if you are not used to quality food. Cooking a star menu takes time.”

“Stevie…I won’t allow her to talk to me like that. Say something.” Steve’s eyes dart between the chick and you as you put the spices onto the counter.

“Y/N, do not talk to her like that…” Steve grumbles looking at you, a hint of guilt in his eyes.

“Can you not fire that fat chick?” Now your hands ball into fists and you glare at Steve. Your blood boils and you are close to grab the fork and ram it into the bitch’s face.

“I can’t, she’s useful after all.” Steve’s words cut deep into your heart but somehow, you feel relieved at the same time.

“Useful…right.” Ripping the apron off your body you toss it onto the floor before you shove the pan with the food over the counter to let it drop next to the apron. “That was not the word you used when you were seeking comfort in my bed…”

Holding your head high you do not give Steve a second glance. “And Steve - fuck you. I quit, asshole.” Storming out of the kitchen you slam the door shut to let a shaky breath out.

“Y/N!” Running after you Steve grasp for your arm but you slap his hand away. “Wait…I didn’t mean to…”

“You didn’t mean to Steve?” Huffing you hold the tears back. “I think you did. For all those years you used me to get off. I thought its love but it was just convenient, nothing else. This is over, Mr. Rogers. If you would excuse me now – I have to pack my things.”

“Don’t go. After the party, we can…” Your hand collides with Steve’s cheek before you knee his balls.

“I would not let you touch me even if you were the last man on earth, Steve. Lucky me - there are more men out there. Men who are willing to show they like me outside of their homes. This, whatever it was between us is over. Go and fuck your supermodel and I’ll look for someone appreciating and loving me the way I deserve. I don’t know why I was not enough…”

“Please…wait. You are enough…” Steve grasp for your arm but you flinch away.

“Yeah, I know but sadly…” Eyes harden you give him a devilish smile. “…you are not man enough for me…” Speechless Steve must watch you walk toward your room.

“You look stunning, doll.” Bucky drinks your outfit in, eyes you shamelessly as you take his offered hand to get out of the limousine. “I want you to know, I would fuck you right here in the backseat.”

“Bucky…” Scolding the mobster you give him a warning glare. “Not so loud.”

“Why?” Cocking his head Bucky looks around the crowd. “Everyone can know I am head over heels for the hottest girl around. Now let me lead you inside.”

“Did you style your hair?” Sliding your hands through his soft hair you snicker as Bucky growls low in his throat. “Wait is that cream at your cheek?”

“I wanted to look good for you. Sam said I shall style my hair, wear a suit and use cream…dunno what kind of crap he gave me, but my skin is smooth.” Now you giggle as he takes your hand to slide it over his cheek.

“Smooth…” Humming Bucky glances at your cleavage, a dirty grin on his lips. “So…you wanted to look good for me?”

“You’re a beautiful woman and I had to impress you. I mean…” Tilting his head Bucky pecks your pulse point. “I need to make sure you’ll forget about Steve and fall for me.”

“I…I quit yesterday…” Bucky gapes at you before he nods thoughtfully. “That girl, she was annoying and then…”

Explaining why you quit your job you do not see the Steve watching you and his best friend. You cannot hear the grunts leaving his lips or that his hands twitch as Bucky dares to slide his hand over your back.

Smirking Bucky wiggles his eyebrows. “Work for me! I got a new restaurant and I need someone to cook. I mean as my chief and crap. Your food is a killer and I want you…”

“You want me?” Taking Bucky’s offered arm, you give him a soft smile as he leads you toward the entrance. While you talk about the offered position, food and Steve being a punk you do not recognize said man or the way his eyes roam your body.

“I want you, doll. Oh—hey, Stevie.” A big grin plastered all over his face Bucky leads you away from Steve. “I guess he’s pissed as you are my plus one.”

Whispering into your ear Bucky chuckles as Steve walks past you to drag his plus one toward the bar.

“Steve never learned to live with the consequences of his doing. I guess he’s used to getting what he wants, not caring about other people’s feelings.” Humming Bucky leads you toward Tony who has a dirty grin on his lips.

“Barnes! If I would’ve known you bring such a beauty…” Sighing Tony takes your hand to press a soft kiss to your skin. “I would’ve worn a nicer suit. Shame on you James.”

“Well, I stole this flower from Steve’s garden.” Tony nods eagerly as he steps closer. “The one you told me about. I want to taste her food.”

“You told him about me?” Surprised you watch Tony smirk at the man by your side.

“He’s talking about you for how long, Bucky?” Bucky looks flustered and you glance at his pink cheeks. “Three years or longer? He whined about Steve having the perfect girl and that you never give him a second glance.”

“Tony…” Gritting his teeth Bucky glares at his friend. “That was a secret.”

“Well…now it’s not. Miss, you have this guy wrapped around your pinkie. Keep him. He doesn’t look like much but he’s a keeper.” Snickering Tony raises his glass and you peck Bucky’s cheek.

“What was that for?” Shrugging you wrap your arms around Bucky to hide your face in his chest.

“You’re not afraid to show you are with me or to talk about me.”

“Why should he afraid to show you? I would kill for such a pretty girl. Sadly, I already have a beautiful wife which looks at me with murder in her eyes. If you excuse me now…”

“That punk didn’t have the right to tell you so…” Grumbling Bucky looks at you, smirking as you grab his hand to lead him toward the dancefloor. “Baby?”

“I want to dance with you, Barnes.” Bucky’s eyes meet Steve’s as he places one hand onto your lower back while he holds the other tightly. “You look good in this suit. I like you do not wear a tie.”

“Do not look, doll but Steve looks like he wants to kill me while that girl tugs at his hand like a child.” Snickering you rest your head against Bucky’s shoulder as he sways to the music. “I wish you never experienced something like that. I thought Steve is smarter.”

“Bucky?” Humming the mobster let his hand wander down to your ass to grope it. “Do you want breakfast in the morning?”

“Fuck me…”

“I kinda planned to, Mr. Barnes.” Laughing you look up at Bucky as his eyes darken and you gulp a few times at the predatory look on his face.

“I will eat you alive and in the morning we will feast on your food. How about we have a drink, some of the expensive food Tony ordered and then we get the hell out of here to fuck until my bed breaks…”

“Well, Mr. Barnes…this sounds like a plan…”

Part 2

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[ibijau]

27 for xisang, please make it as angsty as your heart desires ❤️

It had been a few years since Lan Xichen had left his seclusion, and a few more since the events that had pushed him to enter it. He had made his peace with the whole thing, accepted his share of guilt and blame, and resumed his life as before, only changed by a better understanding of human nature. He also, perhaps, paid a little more attention to rumours, and was more interested in investigating them, knowing that refusing to do so had partly led to that disaster with Jin Guangyao. Even when rumours were unfounded, Lan Xichen had started to realise, the very fact that they existed could reveal something about both their target and their instigator.

The latest rumour was that Nie Huaisang intended to become Chief Cultivator.

Once, Lan Xichen would have dismissed the idea immediately. Nie Huaisang was many things, but he had never been particularly ambitious nor interested in hard work. Certainly Qinghe Nie was doing better again these days, but it still wasn’t quite back to truly being a Great Sect, nor did it give any signs that it aimed to be. Then again, if Nie Huaisang had proven one thing, it was that he knew how to deceive and misdirect when it served his purposes.

At the next conference they both attended, Lan Xichen found himself paying rather more attention than usual to the man he’d once counted as a friend of sorts. At first there was nothing amiss. Nie Huaisang conducted himself as usual, talking little, listening a lot. Listening too much, in fact. Lan Xichen realised after a bit that he had never seen Nie Huaisang so attentive at a conference, even if he was clearly trying to hide it. What’s more, quite a few times Lan Xichen caught the other man glancing in his direction. They hadn’t exchanged two words since that certain night, nor had either of them made efforts to acknowledge the other in any way, so this was odd.

Odder still was it for Nie Huaisang to come seek him out when a break was offered for lunch.

“Lan zongzhu, may I request a word with you?” Nie Huaisang asked, his tone a little too light to be really polite, just as it used to be.

“Nie zongzhu, if we have anything to talk about, I suggest you get in touch with my uncle, as you’ve done of late,” Lan Xichen replied. “He will probably be of more help than myself.”

There was a flash of pain on Nie Huaisang’s face at that rejection, as if it were a surprise. As if Nie Huaisang hadn’t done everything in his power to cause a rift between them.

More upset than he would have expected, Lan Xichen started turning away, only to feel a hand grasping his sleeve and pulling on the fabric.

“Er-ge, please, I need your help,” Nie Huaisang begged with startling sincerity, nervously glancing around. “A situation has emerged that I cannot deal with alone, I don’t know what I’ll do if you don’t help me!”

Lan Xichen shivered. The last time he’d seen that pleading expression on Nie Huaisang’s face had been years ago, at that disastrous conference in Lanling when they had failed to unmask Jin Guangyao. For Nie Huaisang to fall back into his old comedy, something had to have happened.

Anger flashed through Lan Xichen’s mind, which he was careful not to show. Whatever Nie Huaisang had done this time didn’t concern him, and he was done being used by that man as a tool and a weapon.

At the same time, Nie Huaisang had never once reached out for him in all those years, always directly dealing with Lan Qiren or, on a few occasions Wei Wuxian, if he needed something. Whatever bitter taste Lan Xichen felt over the events that had passed between them, it was easy to guess that Nie Huaisang hardly had better feelings toward him. So for him to come begging, to call him ‘er-ge’ again…

“Let’s find somewhere more private then,” Lan Xichen conceded, hating himself for this weakness he knew he would regret.

He pretended not to notice the eagerness and relief on Nie Huaisang’s face, both of which were surely fake, and led the other man toward the room he’d been given for the duration of the conference. It was unpleasant to let Nie Huaisang have a glimpse of his privacy, even in such an impersonal manner, but this couldn’t be avoided.

As soon as the room’s door closed behind them, Nie Huaisang’s attitude changed, and he sagged onto a chair, more like a distressed child than the scheming murderer Lan Xichen now knew him to be.

“Er-ge, I am so lost!” Nie Huaisang cried out, dropping his head into his hands. “And I didn’t know who to turn to and… I don’t even know if you’ll believe me, but I have to try. If you don’t believe me, who will?”

“What have you done now?” Lan Xichen asked, allowing some impatience to pierce through.

“I haven’t done anything! But I think something was done to me. Er-ge, a little while ago, I woke up one morning, and everything was wrong, so wrong. I thought at first that maybe da-ge was pulling a prank on me, or that he wanted to punish me for something, so I played along, right? But then I realised that it wasn’t that at all, and it couldn’t be something da-ge had done, because he’s dead? Er-ge, is da-ge really dead?” Nie Huaisang asked, looking up at him.

Lan Xichen shivered and nodded, too dumbstruck to say anything. Nie Huaisang cried out, and broke into tears. He looked so utterly miserable that it took all of Lan Xichen’s self control not to kneel at his side and comfort him.

“I can’t believe…” Nie Huaisang sobbed. “And A-Yao too?”

Another nod.

“How could they… and they killed each other? I got that right, didn’t I? They killed each other?”

“Huaisang, what are you playing at?” Lan Xichen snapped. “You know that very well. You were then when it happened.”

Nie Huaisang’s eyes widened as if in shock.

“Er-ge, so you’re really angry at me? What did I do to you?”

“What didn’t you do, Huaisang?”

A pitiful gasp escaped the younger man who bit his lip and looked away, still crying steadily.

“Maybe this was a bad idea,” he mumbled, sniffling and clumsily trying to wipe his tears with the back of his hands. “Maybe I shouldn’t have… but if not you, who can I trust? You’re the only one who’s always put up with me. Er-ge, please, I know you’re angry, but you have to help me because… because whatever it is I’ve done to you, I don’t remember it.”

“Huaisang!”

“I really don’t!” Nie Huaisang sobbed, curling up on himself. “I don’t remember anything, and I’m so lost, and da-ge is dead, and I don’t know what to do, I really don’t know, and I’m supposed to be a sect leader but I don’t know how to do that! And I… I’m lost, I’m so lost, I need help, p-please help me, p-please, er-ge, please h-help me! I d-don’t, I don’t know, I don’t know anything and I’m, I’m s-so lost!”

Confronted with the sight of his former friend crying so hard that he seemed to be choking on his own tears, Lan Xichen hesitated. It wasn’t new for Nie Huaisang to cry in front of him, but it was rarely so raw and inelegant. Nie Huaisang was a little vain, and rarely allowed his apparent despair to make him ugly. Right then, though, his face was red and wet from heavy tears and snot, and there was no artfulness to be found in his crying. In fact the only time Lan Xichen could remember Nie Huaisang looking like this had been right after hearing that his brother had passed away.

Moved against his will, Lan Xichen came closer and knelt by Nie Huaisang, awkwardly patting his shoulder in comfort.

“What do you mean you don’t remember anything?”

“I don’t!” Nie Huaisang wailed. “I went to sleep one night, all excited about that Phoenix Mountain Hunt that we were about to go to, because I’d say A-Yao and you and Jiang Cheng and even Wei Wuxian, even if he’s all weird now! And then I wake up in the morning, and my room looks different, and people are calling me sect leader, and now da-ge is dead, and you hate me, and, and…”

He started sobbing again, harder than before.

“How long ago was that?” Lan Xichen asked, rubbing the other man’s back.

“F-four months ago,” Nie Huaisang mumbled. “I, I didn’t know what t-to do so I played along. I f-figured it would stop on its own maybe. T-then I thought, if someone d-did this to me, they’ll t-try something else if they think it’s n-not working. I really t-thought it might be a p-prank, but you… you never lie, er-ge, so it’s really t-true. Da-ge is d-dead, it’s true, it’s all true…”

For a moment, Lan Xichen stopped breathing.

He remembered how, years and years before, Nie Huaisang had refused to listen to anyone telling him that his brother had died until Lan Xichen himself confirmed it. Back then too, Nie Huaisang had only trusted him and claimed it was because Lan Xichen never lied.

“Are you trying to tell me that you’ve lost nearly two decades’ worth of memory and in four months, nobody noticed?”

Nie Huaisang nodded miserably.

“I couldn’t let them know,” he sighed, his tears starting to calm a little. “Even when I f-figured it probably wasn’t a prank, then it meant that someone had attacked me, r-right? I couldn’t let anyone know that it had worked.” He sniffed, and wiped away his tears. “I really wanted to come see you sooner, but I’d heard some of my disciples chat that it was annoying we were in such bad terms with the great sects, so I wasn’t sure you’d see me at all if I went to Gusu. I thought I’d just wait until we were in the same place, and then I’d see if you seemed angry at me or not. And you are. I didn’t even know you could get so angry at someone, er-ge.”

“I am. Should I tell you why?”

Sniffling some more, Nie Huaisang shook his head.

“I think I can guess. I think it has to do with da-ge and san-ge. Is… is it my fault they’re dead?”

Lan Xichen opened his mouth, ready to say that at least one of them had died by his fault indeed, then closed it again. If Nie Huaisang was in earnest, if he’d really lost his memories, then telling him the truth would just be needlessly cruel. If his last memory was before the Phoenix Mountain Hunt, then he really was just a clueless young man. Lan Xichen still remembered how dainty Nie Huaisang had looked at that Night Hunt, the slight argument he’d gotten in with Nie Mingjue over being properly dressed for the occasion. It had been back when the two brother’s fights were just a game between them, before Nie Mingjue’s health started to decline and all good humour disappeared from their arguments.

If their places had been reversed, perhaps Nie Huaisang wouldn’t have had the kindness of staying silent. He had proved that he wasn’t above being cruel when the occasion called for it, and he’d shown also in what little regard he held Lan Xichen.

But Lan Xichen wasn’t Nie Huaisang, and the world already held enough cruelty as it was.

“They died because Jin Guangyao made certain choices, and those eventually turned against him,” Lan Xichen claimed. “The role you played in that was no greater or lesser than mine.”

“But I played a role,” Nie Huaisang sharply noted, before sighing. “I thought so. Do you think maybe someone took offence to that and decided to punish me for it?”

“Very few people know what really happened between da-ge and Jin Guangyao, and of those, none are the sort to use curses,” Lan Xichen replied. He paused, considering something. “One is the kind who might figure out how to lift them, though. Huaisang, would you consider coming to Gusu with me to meet Wei Wuxian? If anyone can find how to help you, I think it is him.”

An odd little noise escaped from Nie Huaisang’s lips, something almost like laughter.

“Wei Wuxian is in Gusu? So that’s true too, he really married Lan Wangji? Ah, and here I thought that for sure that one was fake… The future is a really odd place, uh? But… yes, I’ll come. I’m so tired of being on my own, and I trust you, er-ge.”

Lan Xichen quickly stood up and turned away, his eyes suddenly burning with tears he couldn’t allow himself to spill, his chest so tight he nearly couldn’t breathe.

He had thought he’d made his peace with what had happened, with the way it had happened, but to hear Nie Huaisang’s easy profession of trust reopened an old wound. If only he’d shown the same trust after his brother’s death, if only he hadn’t tried to handle that one his own, if only he’d realised that Lan Xichen would have listened to his suspicions, if only Lan Xichen had seen that something had been wrong…

But perhaps there had been nothing to see.

Four months of amnesia, and nobody had noticed anything.

Lan Xichen wondered if he should have taken comfort in this confirmation of Nie Huaisang’s acting skills. He found that at the moment, he couldn’t. Being fooled by a master was still to have been fooled.

“Let’s discuss the details of this later,” Lan Xichen suggested in a strangled voice. “It will be noticed that we’ve both disappeared, and that will fuel gossip. Take a moment to compose yourself, and then…”

“It’s fine, I’m good,” Nie Huaisang replied with perfect steadiness. “May I just borrow some water to clean my face?”

Startled by his tone, Lan Xichen turned to look at him. Nie Huaisang was standing once more, his expression perfectly placid in spite of some lingering redness in his eyes. After he washed the tears and snot off his face, nothing remained of the breakdown he had just gone through. Lan Xichen found himself almost wondering if any of that had happened, if he had just dreamed that moment of fear and vulnerability, that demonstration of trust.

Only time would tell if Nie Huaisang had been sincere, or if this was only another scheme of his.