#I wonder how long until I'll be able to tell a story every day that's more exciting than the fact that my scar is bothering me

[oediex]

My scar is itchy. Has been for a couple of months. It's frustrating because it is on my back, which means that if I'm sitting on the couch and it itches, I have to bend forward in order to be able to rub it. The itch is resolved, but pain replaces it.

When I told my GP she asked me to remind her how long ago my back surgery was. I'm just shy of two years. "Ah," she said, "scars can still change up to two years after."

Excuse me? Change?

[lis-likes-fics]

Caught Up

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader Word Count: 3.2k words Warnings: NSFW, smut, fingering, swearing, Spencer being way to sweet for anyone's own good... A/N: I've had a major writer's block since the beginning of November and this is literally the only thing I've been able to write so I hope you enjoy this bite-size fic. Hopefully, I'll be back in my groove soon and I'll be able to write more again. Until then, thank you and happy holidays!

Your relationship with Spencer had caught the both of you by surprise.

You met at a bar. You were solemnly eating peanuts as you traced the lip of your first glass of a vodka cranberry, sipping slowly and hardly even touched. Spencer was out with Penelope, Derek, and Emily, who'd found time for a drink after a busy work day.

You hadn't intended to go home with anyone that night. You were bored and a little lonely, trying to find a way to pass the night that wasn't you cooped up in your apartment watching movies in bed.

Spencer had seen you there, sitting alone and looking far too pretty for anyone's good. Derek had to shove him just to get him to go talk to you—he'd been staring long enough that it's a wonder you hadn't noticed.

When Spencer came up to you, you took one look at his pretty face and your night was already improving immensely. He was so unbelievably beautiful—sharp-jawed, long-haired, with eyes of caramel and a smile as bright as the sun. He talked your ear off about things you knew nothing about and nearly stuttered every time you tilted your head while he spoke. He kept apologizing for ranting, to which you kept telling him that listening to him speak was the only thing you wanted to do (he'd get all flustered and fall into another bout about prions or how humans bred dogs to bark).

He was endearing and lovely and kept telling you that you were so beautiful, and you were immediately taken with him. You stared at him like he was the one who created the stars in the sky.

So you took him home that night—which had also come as a surprise.

You honestly hadn't meant for it to happen. You invited him over for a cup or coffee (the bar would close soon, you'd talked for that long), and in the middle of one of his rants, you kissed him. It would have just been a kiss, but Spencer Reid kisses like you're air itself and he's been suffocated for years. You found your way into his lap, and the next thing you knew, he was laying you on your bed and kissing you and touching you and making you feel like the most special girl on Earth.

The first time was full of care. He was kind, he checked up on you at every turn, he used soft lips and softer hands. He held you close during every embrace and backed every touch with another kiss just to make sure you were perfectly comfortable. When you woke the next morning, he kissed you again and greeted you with coffee. (He'd profiled you based on your coffee cabinet and managed to make it to perfection.)

You would spend that day wrapped up in him, listening to him speak and telling him your life story like you were a book and he was your first reader (too eager to be known that you share every single detail you have to give just so you can be held a little longer in someone's hands). It's important to note that his speedy words and listening ears were not the only thing to embrace you that day.

He treated you well, and you treated him just as well. He made you laugh, he made you smile, he made you feel safe and happy.

Through the time you've been together, Spencer has come to learn a lot about you. You don't like eating with big spoons. You have an analog clock because you love the way it looks (you don't really use it), and the ticking drives you crazy at night but you refuse to switch to digital. You love to bake but you still haven't managed to perfect a cake from scratch (which drives you insane because you really can bake, you swear!).

But one of the things Spencer learned quickly is that you have a very high sex drive. You told him that, for a while, you thought you were a nymphomaniac. Then he described the full psychology of a nymphomaniac, and you decided that it may have been a bit of an exaggeration.

Either way, he was very happy to satiate your needs. At first, it was difficult to spend time together without falling into bed. And it's not like you didn't try! But the more he looked at you and the more he spoke and the more he told you how pretty you looked, the harder it was to keep from jumping his bones. He had a similar experience with you.

He was no sex god like he assumed Morgan to be, but the more he indulged, the harder it was not to think about getting to hold you, to kiss you, to taste you. He found immense pleasure in your pleasure. He once burned his hand at work pouring himself a cup of coffee because he got distracted thinking about something as simple as holding your hand or kissing your lips, which led to worse and worse until he found himself lucky the coffee wasn't freshly brewed.

It was hard to deny the other. You couldn't even say no when he asked you to hold his hand while you walked down a street, how were you supposed to say no when he got on his knees and looked up at you like you were the moon? How was he supposed to say no when you looked at when you ran your fingers through his curls and kissed the spot behind his ear?

Even now, it's an accident. He's looping his tie in front of the big mirror hanging from your closet door, trying to get ready for work. He catches your reflection, laying across the bed in sleep shorts and a dainty tee, a pillow clutched in your arms beneath you as you watched him. You don't say anything, you don't move, you just look at him as he gets ready. And he thinks, How am I supposed to leave when she looks like that?

“Spencer?” You murmur after a bit, watching him card his fingers through his hair.

“Yes, angel?” He says it with all the sweetness of a kiss and all the familiarity of your name.

You smile at him, holding your hand out for him. He melts like butter, stepping toward you to take your fingers in the palm of his hand. He squeezes twice. “What?” he whispers without cruelty, without urgency, a simple question to know what you're thinking.

You shrug. “Nothing,” you mumble. “Just wanted to hear your voice.”

His smile alone could make you cry. He bends down onto his knees, his elbows on the bed as he reaches for you. The pad of his fingers finds your temples, sliding gently into your hair until he's cradling your head like a basketball. He brings you forward, kisses your lips with the softest touch.

Your smile curves against his lips. You scoot forward enough to relieve some of the strain of reaching, tilting your head so your noses slide with each up and down of your heads. Your hands come to hold his wrists, gentle fingertips caressing the skin like you're testing the smoothness of marble.

When you break away, it's because a soft laugh erupts from his throat. You pull back in slight surprise, your brows furrowed in question as you chuckle lightly. “What?” you breathe.

He shakes his head, his fingers finding your cheeks. “I'm sorry,” he says. “I just don't know how I got so lucky…”

You can't handle it when he says stuff like that. Your heart is beating so hard in your chest, you think you'll have to go to the hospital. Whatever patterns it's taken up can definitely be described as irregular, and you're going to have heart disease.

“I'm the lucky one,” you try to say.

But he shakes his head again. “Trust me, it's me.”

You're the one who shakes her head next, kissing him again with your hands cradling his neck. “You're so perfect,” you mutter between kisses.

Spencer's hand covers your mouth. It's nothing cruel, just his fingers curling gently over your lips as an uncontrollable smile takes over his. “Stop,” he chuckles, though his voice is dripping with regret. “We can't.”

You move his hand down. “We're just kissing.”

He rubs the tip of his nose into your cheek, inhaling your scent before pulling away reluctantly. “We have a pattern.” He takes both your hands in his, stroking the back of your palms with his thumb. “Every time you kiss me with your hands on my neck, we have sex.”

You giggle, and it's the sweetest thing. “Not every time,” you smile.

He kisses you quickly, like a millisecond longer would lead to more than just kissing. “Eight times out of ten.” He looks at your face, sighing gently and feeling a pang in his chest knowing that he has to leave you soon. He can't be late again this week.

He paints a line down your cheek with his knuckles. “Do you want to come over tonight?” He pinches your chin gently. “Or I could come over and bring takeout?”

You caress his cheekbones with your nails, tracing the blush in his skin. “I'll bring you takeout tonight.”

He smiles. “You sure? I can get it.”

Your laughter is so comfortable, it sounds more like a giggle. “So can I. Let me spoil you.” You kiss him again.

He sighs, the sound fond in and of itself. “Okay.” Spencer stands to his feet, holding his hand out to you. “Give me a proper hug, angel.” It sounds more hopeful than it does demanding.

You stand on the edge of the bed, towering over him as you wrap your arms around his head. He holds you tight, laying his head on your chest and inhaling your scent. You stay there for a while, holding the other like it's the last time you'll ever hold each other.

You cradle his neck again, kissing him with a gentle sigh. His head tilts backward to give you the space, grabbing your waist as his thumbs trace your skin the same way your thumbs trace his cheeks. The more you try to break away, the deeper you make the kiss. His hands are so warm, and his lips are so soft. You'd be remiss if you didn't bask in him.

Spencer's lips slide off your own to kiss the corner of them, brushing against your jawline as you lift your chin to let him. He makes a sound in the back of his throat, a little whine. “I really need to go…”

You chuckle lightly, your breath thin the more he kisses your neck. “Go,” you sigh, the word quiet and half-heartedly, though not intended to be. “I'll see you tonight…”

His hands tighten on your waist, dipping beneath your shirt so he can feel your soft skin in his palms. He makes that sound again, dipping his head slightly to press open-mouthed kisses to your chest. Your lips part, shallow breaths passing through them as your eyes flutter shut at the feeling.

He pulls you closer to him, one arm around your back as the other bends your knee. Your legs wrap around his waist, and he holds you up with strong arms. “I have to go now,” he mumbles between heated kisses.

You nod, making no move to unravel from him. “I know.” A kiss. “Have a good day, honey.”

He bends down, laying you on the bed and ducking his hand beneath your shirt. His palm gropes your breast, his thumb tweaks your nipple. You gasp against his lips.

His free hand grabs at your waist. He kneads it in his palm, he presses his fingers into your skin. He brushes his knuckles over your flesh and smiles when you shudder. “Feel good?” he whispers.

You nod, carding your fingers through the hair at the back of his head. “Yeah. Really good.”

“Good,” he kisses your neck. His hand sinks lower, his finger hooking into the waistband of your shorts. “This okay?”

Your nod is quicker this time, more enthused. “Yes,” you breathe. “Yes, please.”

Spencer pulls your shorts down your legs, helping you take them off without once ever pulling away from you. He strokes your newly exposed skin, humming deep in his throat at the feeling of it. You hike your knee higher up his side, opening yourself up for him.

His hand dips between your legs, fingers curling around the inside of your thigh. He strokes a short line up and down.

A tiny curse slips past your lips. “Can you touch me, Spence? Just a little?”

He whines again, heavier breaths puffing from parted lips. “I want to,” he says. “But I have work, and–” He interrupts himself, leaning down to capture your lips.

When he pulls back, you're nodding. “Y-Yeah. Go, baby. Go work and then… then when you get back–”

He pushes a long, slender finger inside of you. Your breath hitches, your lips pressing messily together. You feel the slightest shake of his head, his nose bumping yours. A second finger joins the first, splitting you open as a moan spills past your lips. A tiny smile spreads his mouth.

You tangle your fingers in the hair at the back of his head, your hips lifting toward his hand when he thrusts his fingers gently in and out of you. “Ah, fuck, Spence.”

His mouth latches onto your neck, pressing open-mouthed kisses along your skin, his teeth lightly grazing as his tongue darts out to taste it. Your hand tightens a bit to take a fistful of his hair. You don't yank his hair, but you can hear the tiny grunts that come out of him at the light tugs at his scalp.

His fingers curl inside you, pumping deep and slow and building up the more you gasp around him. “Does this feel good?” he asks breathlessly into the skin of your neck.

You nod, clenching around his fingers as your eyes squeeze shut. “Yes, baby. Please don't stop,” you sigh with each in and out of his fingers. The deep strokes are warm and inviting, like shining a light through your fingers to see it glow. You roll your hips to meet the movements of his hand, and reward his intoxicating thrusts with short gasps.

He presses the pad of his thumb to your clit, and you feel yourself giving in. His lips and teeth and tongue trace your collarbone, and you know he'll leave you today with a wonderful mark just below it to remind you of him (although he'll apologize and ask you if he hurt you when he sees it, then he'll kiss it better, which will lead to this all over again).

His fingers stroke deep inside you, curling and pumping and pulling your release closer and closer. He's coaxing it out of you with the kindness of beckoning a scared animal. He loves on your skin and whispers how wonderful you are and makes it more and more impossible for you to let him go all day long.

You wish you could spend forever wrapped up in bed with him. You don't even have to do anything. You would be completely and utterly content laying against him and talking, or letting him talk, or sitting in silence and simply enjoying his company.

A knot is building in your belly—one that you've become quite accustomed to feeling these past few weeks. The tighter it wounds, the deeper you breathe as you arch your chest into his mouth. He continues to embrace you, whispering, “That's it, angel. Just breathe. I've got you, I promise. I'm right here. Let go for me.” He coos your name like it's the sweetest thing in the world and smiles when you coo his back.

Your hands cradle his head as the knot snaps and sends a wave of pleasure over your body, taking you under and letting you breathe in the ecstasy. It's not explosive by any means, but it's warm and comforting and covers you in goosebumps as you card your fingers through his hair and pet him and hold him as close as you can as he continues to kiss and coo and curl.

Your breath shudders and shakes with the rest of your body, interrupted only by whimpers and the humming of his name on your lips.

Spencer pulls his fingers from the wet warmth between your thighs and kisses you with all the intimacy of your orgasm. You sigh into his lips and let yourself be taken by his consuming care.

“You're so perfect,” he whispers into your lips, kissing you in short pecks over and over and over again like he just can't get enough of you. “You know that? I used to believe that it is statistically and theoretically impossible for a human being to be perfect, but then you come along and destroy any idea of it that I've ever had.”

You both laugh, happy breaths in each other's spaces as you indulge in the other between more drunken kisses. “Guess that's why you call me angel.”

His smile rivals the sun. You don't think you can stare at him much longer, but you also don't think you could ever forgive yourself if you looked away.

“You are my angel,” he says, another kiss. Then a sigh of regret and, quite frankly, remorse pushes out from his chest. “And I have to go to work now. Hotch will be furious that I'm late again.”

You kiss him again, keeping it short. “Sorry for keeping you, doctor.”

He laughs. He's full of laughs when he's with you. “I don't regret it one bit.”

You help him tidy up once more so that he looks presentable again. You smooth out his clothes, comb your fingers through his hair, and kiss his cheek to avoid getting distracted again. You walk him to your door, arms around backs and tucked into the other.

He opens the door and turns back to you, picking up your hands in his and squeezing them gently. “I'll see you tonight?” His eyes sparkle with all the hope in the world. He's going to give you irregular heartbeats. You're going to get sick and die.

“Of course, handsome.” You lean up on your toes, hands on his chest as you peck his lips. It's short and sweet, he doesn't even have time to close his eyes. Yet when you sit back on your feet, his eyes are closed.

He smiles, lingering for a moment. He looks at you. “You didn't touch my neck.”

You chuckle lightly, patting his chest. “Well…we have a pattern.” You pull his bag back up his arm, resting it on his shoulder. “I'll see you tonight, Spence.”

He cradles your elbows, his thumbs rubbing gentle circles into your skin. “Bye, angel.” He gives you a dangerous kiss to your lips, and then he's gone.

You're left watching him walk down the hall, leaning on your door frame and smiling after him like some lovesick fool. To be fair, you are a lovesick fool. After all, your heart’s doing flips. You should schedule a doctor's appointment.

Criminal Minds taglist: @queermaxwooo @mdanon027 @lilianhallee @hpstuff244444 @thegr8estpuff @niktwazny303 @bubbles2300 @hiireadstuff @chloelmao67 @feyresqueen @hbwrelic @princess76179 @hc-geralt-23 @hits-different-cause-its-you Dr. Reid taglist: @swwanlake @imgonnaslurpu Tag yourself here...

[mistymisfit]

first off, I absolutely adore your writing!! It’s got me kicking my feet and giggling.

Can I please request a domestic Dick x reader where they’re having an at home date night (like watching a movie, doing face masks, cooking together - any of those kinda things) and it keeps getting interrupted by Dicks siblings?

thank youuuuu <3 and sorry this took too long (and if the ending feels rushed), hope you like it

warnings: no plot just fluff and batfamily cameos, established relationship, a few dirty jokes, suggestive content, Tim getting traumatized.

wc: 2,2k

You smile to yourself, finally you get to have a normal night with you boyfriend. He's staying at home, having a date night at home, ah the wonders of a dislocated shoulder. His injury would only put him out of action for a couple of weeks since it wasn't that bad, but you would still try to enjoy the time you get with him--even if hes puffing and huffing in annoyance. He's been a vigilante since he was 12 and he doesn't know anything else, so he's especially reluctant to accept the time off. Lucky for him, he's quickly convinced when you tell him how much he deserves a break and that you'll take care of him until he feels better.

"Here, just make sure it doesn't burn" You signal, putting the spoon on his good hand and letting him take care of the sauce.

"Sure" His eyes follow you as you move around his --not so big-- apartment kitchen. You wore one of his t-shirts, why he owned merch of himself was beside you but you couldn't ignore the smile that appeared on his face every time you wore it."So what are the plans for tonight?"

"We're having dinner, then we'll do some face masks," you list off "we could bake brownies if you're up for dessert, and there's this new movie I want to watch"

"Of course I'm up for dessert" He jokes, catching your arm when you step closer to him.

He has a devilish grin when he kisses you, forgetting he was supposed to be cooking dinner with you. You let him distract you, but not before your hand quietly lowers the stove to minimum heat behind him. The spoon falls, left behind as he walks you until you're trapped between the kitchen counter and him. The hand that's not caught in the arm sling cups your face, getting more demanding with the kiss. You sit on the kitchen counter before he asks and he nods, grateful. You're not sure he could lift you up with one arm, even if he's proven the past few days he didn't need both of them to manhandle you as he usually does. The perks of training your entire life.

There's a noise outside the window right when you wrap your legs around him. At first, you both ignore it, but as it repeats again and again, you realize it was not a random noise but someone knocking. There's not that many people who would be able to knock on an eighth story window.

"I'll go," He sighs, reluctantly letting go of you.

You nod, picking up the spoon and washing it on the sink as you try to listen to the hushed conversation. You can tell it was one of his siblings, even if you could only hear half of what they say. So when you finally take a look, hiding behind a wall, you are not surprised to see Damian in his Robin suit in the living room.

"Hi Damian, isn't it a bit too early to be Robin?" You wave

"Richard, you did not tell me that your beloved was here" He recriminates; you think it's adorable to see such a cute thing talking like an old man. He greets you, calling you by your last name as he usually does. Then his nose scrunches up,as if sniffing the air like a cat "are you making...?"

His question is not even finished as he walks past his older brother, who rolls his eyes saying"Yes, it's their gnocchi recipe, yes, you may stay for dinner"

You pout, silently telling him he's cute so he should be more forgiving towards his younger brother. He loves that you like his sibling, the one he raised for a while, but he also hates that all the little demon has to do is make a puppy face and you'd agree to anything.

Later in the evening, you found yourselves hyper focused on a backgammon game. You were both sitting on carpet in the living room, the game set on the coffee table. It was a hilarious sight for you, him competitive as always with his hair pushed back by one of your headbands and brows so furrowed you could see them under his blue face mask. Which he only agreed to do once you sat on his lap and offered to put it on for him; suddenly, all his complaints about "I'll break out" or "I don't like the way it feels on me" silenced. You know he secretly loves doing skincare with you, he just likes what you do to convince him more.

"Stop staring, you're trying to distract me"

"Am not!" You gently shoved his healthy arm, pretending to be offended at the accusation.

"Yes, you are" He childishly sticks his tongue out before moving his piece. You huff, taking the dice and rolling them in your hand but not letting go of them yet.

He moves closer to you, his breath fanning over your neck before you ask; "What are you doing?"

"Making sure you don't cheat"

"And how would I do that?" You turn your head lightly to look at him.

"That's why I'm looking at you" He shrugs

"Sure," You smile, amused,"and you're not projecting onto me, Richard"

He puts his hand over his chest, as if holding his heart, and pretends to be deeply disturbed by your words. Even going as far as falling on the carpet behind you. Done with his distracting antics, you finally roll the dice. Your lips tug in a big smile when you see the numbers.

"I got two sixes," you announce, and he quickly gets up.

"No way,"

"Yes way" This was your turn of sticking your tongue out to him.

He can't believe how much you're kicking his ass when he was the one who taught you how to play. He wants so badly to kiss that smug grin off your face, and he is about to turn your focus from moving the pieces when someone else surprises you both.

"How old are you two?" Steph jokes, closing the window she came in through

"Hi Steph," you smile "I'm winning"

She steps closer to high-five you as he shakes his head no, disapproving your celebration before adding; "Only 'cause you're cheating" as he gets up.

"Can I have your files on the Riddler, pretty please?" Steph asks, getting to the point of her visit.

He warns you not to touch anything before he gets up to find his secured laptop on his safe. He's going to be out of action for a while, so it's not like he could after him, might as well give them to someone else. When he returns a few minutes later with a flash drive full of the information she needs, he finds you both gossiping on his couch way too comfortably. You gasp as she tells you something, Steph clearly agreeing with your reaction. He waits, he doesn't want to interrupt just yet. His heart feels so full when he sees you get along so well with his family that he wants to save the moment for a little more.

"You got those files?" She asks when she finally notices him standing on the doorway outside the bedroom.

"Yeah," He throws the flash drive and she catches with impeccable reflexes"you're welcome"

"Thanks," She smiles before heading back out the window and telling you;"Kick his ass in that game"

You smile and promise you will, and he looks down to realize just how really over it was for him. So when you're distracted waving at Steph, he kicks the table to move the set. You turn back to see him, and before you can even get mad, he tells you he wants to cuddle up and watch a movie.

You let his little plan work, but not without calling him a sore loser. He pats the space next to him on the couch with a proud grin as he turns the TV on. You roll your eyes, settling down next to his good side so he can wrap an arm around you the way he likes. He may be a sore loser, but you're the one letting him get away with it. Halfway through the movie, you pause to take off the face-masks and catch him staring a little too much in the mirror.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," You raise an eyebrow, not believing in his reply"I don't have eye bags and I'm not used to it"

"Duh, you've been sleeping at night like a normal person recently"

"I'll give you a reason to stay up all night" He bites back, his hand skillfully landing on your hips to make sure you stay in place as he takes a step to stand behind you.

"Come on, I wanna see how it ends" You're fast to move out of his hold, God knows how easily you fall for his charm every time.

You cuddle back on the couch hitting play on the horror movie you watched again, the lights were off to help the mood. He liked when you flinched as held him tighter even if the movie was scaring him more than you. You relax with your head on his shoulder, both arms wrapped around his as his sat on your thigh.

"See? Your skin is so soft" You smile, a hand reaching to caress his cheek.

"You're the one who wanted to watch the movie," He puffs "now I wanna know if they exorcise the demon"

You roll your eyes, shifting back your attention to the screen. The movie was building up to a jump scare, the tense music and ambient, something scary was bound to pop up in seconds. What neither of you expected was that the scare was going to come from outside the movie. Cass stepped in front of the TV to get your attention, and you both screamed. Dick could swear the stitches in her mask moved up in a smile as you both held tightly into each other.

"Steph came by and left like an hour ago," He says, once he regains his composure. He's aware now of how down his guard was, it was not normal for him to be startled this easily.

She hums and nods, leaving as fast as she appeared. Giving you both a wave before jumping off your window. Now you're too freaked to go back to the movie. Suddenly, watching horror movies in the dark didn't seem like a good idea anymore, especially when he had a plethora of younger siblings willing to break in at any given moment. His hand rubs your back gently, and you giggle once the adrenaline worn down over how silly it was. He laughs with you, telling you that he's never going to live it down and how they're going to make fun as soon as he sees them again. You smile before pressing a kiss to his lips, he looked too handsome when he laughed.

"I don't want to watch the movie anymore"

"Okay, I can lock the window," he offers, grinning when you nod.

Some time later, you were still on the couch, though now your clothes were scattered around the living room. A sitcom plays instead as you rest on top of him with your head on his chest, the blanket covering until your waist while he has his arms on top of you, his hand tracing circles on your bare back. He was still all smiles and loopy from you riding him, maybe being injured had a good side. Maybe Gotham could afford not having Nightwing every once in a while.

"What are you thinking about?"

"You,"He replies, flustering you and making you hide your face in his chest. "maybe I could stay in with you"

You lift your head to look at him, eyes shining with joy before he says; "Once a month" You pout in response, even if it's better than nothing.

"Maybe I convince you to once a week" You flirt, your lips finding the spot in his neck he likes having kissed way too much.

"Once every two weeks," He smirks, his hand going from your back to your hips again.

"Dick!" A younger voice yells from a different room in the apartment, "Why did you give Steph your files?! I called dibs on them when you got inj-"

He's quick to react, pulling the blanket higher to cover you. He is almost as fast to scold his younger brother; asking how did he come in as the other profusely apologizes, covering his eyes and turning his back. Your face heats up, you have never been more embarrassed in your entire life. you hide under the blanket as he reaches for his underwear, which luckily was close enough that he didn't have to get up to get it. If any humor was left in you, you'd laugh at him showing Tim the way out as he teaches him a lesson on basic boundaries and the consequences of breaking into someone's place. You would've laughed at Tim's comment of needing therapy to delete the image from his head if it happened to anyone else.

"I'm never showing my face to your family again" You say once he comes back and he laughs, clearly taking this way better than you.

[wholoveseggs]

Hey, I love the stories you are writing for us! Thank you so much! If there's room for another one, here's an idea: human reader is pregnant with Elijah's child but is afraid he might not believe her as it is impossible for a vampire to procreate. His reaction, in fact, causes her to leave New Orleans, and a few years later, she returns, and Elijah learns he is a dad. Fluffy, possibly smutty. ")

Devotion

he's so daddy, he's so father

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

When you find out you are pregnant you are afraid of how Elijah will react. His anxieties around fatherhood get the best of him and he gives in to his darker impulses.

♡♡ Thanks for the request(s) @originals23 @classymesstuff009 & anon ♡♡

I combined the ideas and changed some elements, but I hope I captured the spirit of the requests -xoxo

7.7k words - Warnings: this is less of a story with a plot and more of a series of events over the course of readers pregnancy, lots of angst, childbirth, so so so corny, so much fluff, lots of belly touches, Elijah being violently over protective, more fluff, lots of affection, smut at the end, unprotected sex (duh)

"No no no no no," you mumbled, staring down at the fourth positive pregnancy test you'd taken that day. This couldn't be happening, it wasn't possible. But as you glanced over the little box and read the word "pregnant" again and again, it began to sink in. You were having a baby, Elijah Mikaelson's baby, a baby whose existence was impossible.

A sob you had been suppressing broke free, and you collapsed on the edge of the tub. You had no idea what you were going to do, your relationship with Elijah was complicated and had no label, and the thought of raising a baby by yourself was daunting.

"I'll figure it out," you told yourself as you pulled yourself up and splashed some cold water on your face.

You needed to tell Elijah, which was an entirely different kind of terrifying. He had always been very clear that vampires were unable to procreate, so he likely would not believe you. The thought made your stomach turn, and you rushed to the toilet once more to empty the meager contents.

It took you a couple weeks before you were able to build up the courage to tell Elijah. You had tried to find the words to break the news, but every time you thought you had it figured out, you panicked and decided against it.

But you were starting to show, and you knew it wouldn't be long until your clothes no longer concealed your growing belly. So, the day after your second ultrasound you invited Elijah over for dinner.

He was worried about you, it had been over a month since he'd seen you last and over two months since the last time you were intimate together. He missed you, and wondered if you'd met someone else. But that was the only explanation he could think of.

When he arrived at your place, he noticed something different right away. You looked exhausted, but you had a small glow to you, he also noticed that you gained some weight and he enjoyed how it filled out your figure.

You greeted him at the door, and he pressed a kiss to your cheek before handing you a bottle of wine. "Thank you," you smiled softly, leading him inside and taking the wine to the kitchen.

"It's been awhile," Elijah began, not knowing where to start, "are you doing alright?"

"Not exactly," you admitted, pouring two glasses of water and taking a seat on the couch next to him. Your hands began to shake, fear gripping you once more.

Elijah reached over and took your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "What is wrong?" He asked, searching your eyes.

You took a deep breath and closed your eyes for a moment before speaking. "I'm pregnant."

You could see the confusion, the anger, the disappointment and a dozen other emotions flash through his eyes. You couldn't stand the way he was looking at you, so you pulled your hand from his and stood, pacing around the room.

Elijah didn't know what to think, clearly you were seeing someone else. It hurt him, but neither of you ever had the talk about being exclusive. The thought of you with another man disappointed him immensely, it made him realize how much he wanted you all to himself. But it was too late for that now.

"Elijah, say something," you begged, tears streaming down your face. You were desperate for him to just say anything.

"Who is the father?" He questioned, his voice low.

You expected this question and had thought about your response for a while. Of course he wouldn't think it was his, it was impossible. But you had been with no one else, and you were tired of being a secret, you wanted to be a family, and if he rejected the idea, then that was on him.

"You," you answered, wiping the tears from your cheeks.

"That's not possible," he shook his head. "I can't procreate."

"Klaus can, why not you?" You snapped. You weren't expecting him to believe you, but the reality of it hurt more than you expected.

"Klaus is unique, I am not," he stated plainly. You were quite distressed and although he didn't believe himself to be the father he still had sympathy for your situation.

“Is the father not... A good man?" He asked.

You began to sob, the hormones were really working against you, and you didn't know what to do. He had no idea how to react, and the longer you stayed silent, the more worried he became.

"I'm sorry," he spoke, his voice low, as he moved towards you.

"Don't," you shook your head, pulling away from his touch. "If you don't believe me, that's fine. I'm not going to beg you. I can raise this baby on my own."

"I can't be the father, y/n," Elijah said, trying to reach for you once more.

"Just leave, please," you pleaded. He didn't believe you, he thought you were seeing someone else, and you couldn't stand to be in the same room with him any longer. "Get out Elijah!" You shouted.

Frustration rose within him, he didn't enjoy being blamed for something he didn't do.

“Fine," he muttered, moving towards the door.

You felt overwhelmed with despair and wanted nothing more to do with him, so you watched him walk out the door without saying a word.

It had been a few weeks since you last saw Elijah and your mental health was deteriorating at an alarming rate. You had very little support financially or emotionally and it was taking a toll on you.

You hadn't slept or eaten well and when you did, you often felt sick afterwards. You had known about postpartum depression, but apparently there was something called prenatal depression as well. You had been reading online about the symptoms, and it was almost as though you were looking in a mirror.

You needed help, but couldn't will yourself to ask for it. You had no family, and no friends in the city. The only person you knew in Louisiana was Elijah, and you didn't want anything to do with him.

His rejection of you and the baby hurt more than anything you'd ever experienced before. You couldn't even bring yourself to look at a picture of the ultrasound. You felt alone and abandoned.

You would walk the streets at night, a foolish thing to do considering the threats in New Orleans. But it was the only thing that seemed to calm your mind, and the fresh air helped ease the nausea.

It was a clear, warm night and the streets were quiet. The soft glow of the street lights created a calming atmosphere, and the cool breeze blew the hair away from your face. You closed your eyes and breathed deeply, enjoying the moment of peace.

Then you started to cry, your hormones making you feel like you were losing your mind. You hated it, you would start to cry for no reason and then cry some more because you were frustrated over crying for no reason. It was an endless cycle.

You felt so lost, you thought you could do this all on your own, but you hadn't even had the baby yet and you were falling apart. Even though Elijah didn't believe the child to be his, it was still a Mikaelson and that came with many consequences, some you couldn't possibly foresee. You knew of Hope and how she barely survived her birth, what if the same thing happened to you and your child? You didn't have Elijah to protect you.

You knew you needed to swallow your pride and convince Elijah, he was the only one who could protect both of you.

Your feet took you to the compound before you could talk yourself out of it, and you stood at the gates, hesitating for a moment before making your way inside. You could feel the baby kick and move, it strengthened your resolve.

Elijah was in his study when he heard you approaching, and he wondered what you wanted. He decided to leave you alone after you kicked him out. It was the right thing to do, he reminded himself, he was not the father.

When he saw you standing in the doorway, he could tell you were upset, but he had no desire to talk to you, not after the last time.

"Elijah, please listen to me," you said softly, the words sticking in your throat. "The baby is yours, I have never slept with anyone but you. There is no one else, only you."

He sighed, he wished he could believe you, but he knew it was not possible. He wondered how awful the true father had to be if you were here lying to him once again.

"I know we were never exclusive, but I wish you would be honest with me about whoever the father is," he said, his voice low.

You stared at him for a moment before a sob escaped your lips. "Elijah, there is no one else, there has never been anyone else."

"Why do you insist upon lying?" He asked, turning away from you, unable to stand the pain in your eyes.

Sudden rage boiled over inside of you and you lashed out at the nearby table, knocking the items onto the floor. "I am not fucking lying!" You shouted.

Your outburst was quite unexpected, and he turned back to look at you, his eyes narrowing. Before he could say anything Freya walked in, alerted by the yelling and broken glass.

"What's going on?" She asked, stepping in between the two of you.

The tears returned, always at the most inconvenient times, and you just sobbed into your hands and knelt to the floor. Pure frustration and exhaustion took over and you were completely overwhelmed.

Freya looked at Elijah, confused and annoyed. He wasn't the type to yell, and certainly not at a pregnant woman. She wondered what was going on and why you were so upset.

Elijah shook his head, and began cleaning up the mess you'd made. He couldn't bear to look at you, the pain in your eyes was too much for him.

Freya walked over and knelt next to you, rubbing your back. "Tell me what's wrong sweetheart," she said softly.

The moment Freya touched you she felt it, her own blood, running through your veins.

"It's okay," Freya assured you. "Can I touch your belly?"

You nodded again, and she gently placed her hand over the swell, and instantly felt the magic pulsating from your womb. Freya could always sense her own blood, so long she searched for it. And here it was, right in front of her.

She was overjoyed, she had a niece or nephew, a new tiny Mikaelson for her to dote on. She was also so angry at her foolish brother she could have strangled him.

"Elijah," she said sternly, mustering her big sister voice to scold her little brother. "It's yours," she said firmly, standing and facing him.

He froze, a mixture of emotions passing through him. First he felt disbelief, then excitement, and finally dread. If this was his child, then the threats they faced everyday were even more dangerous.

"Are you certain?" He asked, not wanting to believe, fear gripping his heart.

Freya nodded, and moved to stand next to you, helping you to your feet. You were exhausted, physically and emotionally.

"Why didn't you bring her to me sooner?" She asked him, helping you over to the sofa and fetching you a glass of water. "Look at her Elijah, how could you leave her like this?"

He knew his sister was right, and he felt ashamed. He had been a fool, and caused you unnecessary suffering. He would not be making that mistake again.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, coming to kneel in front of you. "Forgive me, please."

"I tried to tell you," you said softly, sniffling quietly.

"Leave us Freya, thank you," he said, not taking his eyes off you.

Freya was reluctant, but agreed, closing the door behind her. Elijah sat next to you, his posture stiff, and his face a stony expression. You were afraid, unsure what he would do or say.

He was always prone to self-loathing, but this was a new level, and he didn't know what to do. He felt incredibly guilty and responsible for the pain and stress he caused you. You did not look well, and he knew he needed to do everything he could to fix this.

"I'm sorry," he repeated, you looked dazed and swayed a bit, he pulled you close, resting your head on his shoulder.

"Don't apologize," you whispered, lifting your head and looking at him, "just promise you will help me, that's all I ask,"

Elijah was taken aback by the request. Of course he was going to help, why wouldn't he? But the fact that you needed to ask, made him feel terrible, made him feel like Klaus.

"Of course," he assured you, brushing a stray tear from your cheek.

A few tears escaped your eyes. You were tired and overwhelmed and his words and gentle touches were enough to completely break you. You began to cry, burying your face in his chest as you sobbed. A tidal wave of conflicting emotions washing over you, frustration, anger, guilt and a tiny hint of relief.

Elijah felt terrible, and he hated himself for causing this. You were pregnant, alone, and suffering. He would never forgive himself.

"You will stay here and you don't have to worry about a thing," he soothed, gently rubbing your back, "I will take care of everything, I promise,"

He meant it, you and the baby were his responsibility now, and he would protect you both with his life.

It had been a month since you moved into the compound and Elijah was true to his word and took care of everything.

He compelled doctors to check on you and Freya was also doing a spell daily to ensure the baby was healthy and developing well.

But he didn't have to compel people for the things that mattered. He was the one cooking your meals, helping with the nursery, and ensuring you were getting rest.

One night after dinner, you were sitting on the sofa together, talking and laughing.

You were starting to feel better, but you still struggled with your emotions, and Elijah did his best to make sure you were always happy and stress free.

You began to feel a little anxious, and he immediately sensed it, pulling you close to cuddle with him. Neither of you had discussed your growing feelings and neither of you knew where you stood with each other.

He placed a warm hand on your growing bump, and it instantly soothed the baby, and in turn, helped calm your nerves. You leaned closer into him and he wrapped his other arm around your shoulder.

He enjoyed having you so close, and he could smell the sweet scent of your shampoo as you rested your head against his shoulder. He still felt such guilt for the pain and stress he had caused you.

"Is this okay?" He asked softly, his hand slowly moving over the swell.

You smiled, enjoying the gentle caress. "Mmhmm," you hummed, snuggling deeper into his side.

He was being very sweet, and you were beginning to suspect that he had more than just feelings of obligation for the baby.

Elijah was enjoying the feeling of your body pressed against his, and he hoped that he could continue to make amends for the way he behaved.

"Have you thought of any names?" He asked, resting his chin on the top of your head.

"Hmmm," you thought, enjoying the warmth of his hand and the rumble of his chest. "I'm thinking… Elijah jr," you teased, giggling.

He chuckled and gave you a light squeeze. "Absolutely not," he smirked, kissing the top of your head.

It was a pleasant moment and the two of you laughed and talked about the upcoming birth and baby names.

Eventually, you fell asleep, and Elijah picked you up and carried you to bed. He gently tucked you in and placed a kiss on your forehead.

Now that you were asleep, he could let his own anxieties surface. The trauma around Hope's birth still haunted him and he would do anything to prevent that from happening to you.

So he did the same thing he had done every night since you moved in. He left the compound to go hunting.

The first night you arrived, he went out for a drink, planning on just having one to calm his nerves. But then he heard a group of young vampires discussing the strung out looking pregnant woman walking the streets at night. And when they wondered what a pregnant woman's blood would taste like... Well they didn't stand a chance after that.

It made him feel better, seeing their body parts scattered around him, to smell their blood and have their dead hearts in his hands.

And so on it went, he would stalk the streets of the French Quarter, waiting for anyone to dare mention you or the baby. It didn't matter who, why or even where, they would never get a chance to speak again.

Every night he would return, his hunger sated, and he would climb into bed with you. You were still sound asleep and unaware of what he was doing. He would pull you close to him, and listen to the soft rhythmic beat of your heart and the heart of his child. It was the only thing that calmed him, and it helped him drift off into a peaceful sleep.

But that night you woke, the baby was kicking and it made you feel nauseous. You got up to go to the bathroom, too groggy to notice Elijah in the shower until you walked in.

You gasped at the sight of him covered in blood, halfway through washing it off of him under the warm water.

He noticed the shocked look on your face, and stepped out of the shower, wrapping a towel around his waist.

"Is that... blood?" You asked, eyeing the pink tint to the water as it disappeared down the drain.

Elijah hesitated, "it's nothing you need to worry about," he insisted.

He wasn't trying to lie or deceive you, he was trying to protect you. He knew it was twisted and wrong, and he would be the first to admit he had a dark side, but he would never want you to see it.

"Why are you covered in blood?" You asked, a feeling of dread settling in the pit of your stomach.

Elijah was not accustomed to answering questions, he was usually the one giving the orders, but you were not one of his siblings. He would tell you the truth, you deserved that.

"It's the blood of those who wish to do us harm," he admitted.

He expected you to be shocked, but the truth was, you weren't. He was a Mikaelson, and a powerful vampire, it was only natural that others would want to hurt him and his family. Hayley had shared with you what happened to her when she gave birth to Hope, you were beyond frightened of it happening to you. Fear is a powerful thing, it can override any sort of morals you may possess.

"And did you kill them?" You asked, looking directly into his eyes.

He nodded, he could see that you were not upset, and he was relieved.

"How many?"

Elijah was slightly taken aback by your curiosity, and it gave him pause.

"A lot," he admitted, his dark eyes flashing in the dim light of the room.

"I know you are afraid, I am too," you said softly, reaching out and touching his face. "I'm afraid of the birth, of our child being in danger," you confessed, "and I'm afraid for you and all the darkness you take on to protect us,"

"I'm doing what I have to," he said softly, covering your hand with his.

"I know," you nodded, leaning closer and resting your forehead against his. "And I am grateful for that, and I trust you, but I don't want you to be consumed by it,"

He wrapped his arms around your waist and held you tight, listening to the gentle beat of your heart and that of your child.

"Let's get you back to bed," he said softly, kissing your forehead.

You were still exhausted, and he wanted you to rest. He helped you back to bed and tucked you in, placing a soft kiss on your forehead before heading to his own room.

From that night on he stopped hunting, and spent more time with you. The two of you were becoming closer, but he didn't want you do feel any sort of pressure to be with him. He would be happy with whatever you were comfortable with.

He was plagued by nightmares, visions of you dead in his arms the same way Hayley was, and he woke up in a cold sweat every night. He would climb into bed next to you and pull you close, placing his hand on your bump and waiting for the baby to kick. When the child would move, it was a reassurance that the two of you were alive, and you were safe.

Your eighth month of pregnancy was difficult, and Elijah had become even more attentive. Your ankles were swollen, your back ached, and the baby was a wild one.

But the worst part was the hormones, they were completely out of control. You cried at everything, the commercial about a cute dog, a sad movie, and even a happy song. You were a wreck and it was a struggle just to get through the day.

Hayley, Rebekah and Freya had noticed your increasing distress and decided to throw you a baby shower. It was nice to be surrounded by people that cared about you.

The women of the Mikaelson family understood you more than anyone ever could, and they did their best to make sure you were comfortable. Hayley was especially sympathetic and supportive, having been through it herself.

"The last three months are killer," she laughed, patting your belly.

"Tell me about it," you sighed, watching Rebekah and Freya decorate the courtyard for the upcoming party.

"They are really going all out for this," Hayley laughed, and you could tell she was pleased that the other two were trying to make you feel welcome.

"I think it's more for the baby than me," you giggled, "they love being aunties,"

"Am I an auntie too?" Hayley teased, knowing she wasn't biologically connected, but the baby was still family.

You nodded, and she was beaming with joy.

"Well, i'm excited for Hope to have a little cousin, she needs someone to play with," Hayley smiled, her hand still resting on your belly.

You were both startled by a sudden sharp movement from the baby, and laughed.

"Well, this one will definitely keep her on her toes," you laughed.

The party was extravagant to say the least, it was more of a ball than a baby shower. Klaus had invited every faction of the supernatural world and there was an assortment of vampires, witches and wolves mingling together.

Klaus and Elijah decided to take an entirely different approach to your pregnancy and the impending birth than the one they had with Hayley.

They knew not to repeat the mistakes they made the first time and wanted to foster peace and harmony among the factions.

Elijah was on edge, his nightmares becoming increasingly worse, and he was struggling to find a way to ease his anxieties.

He would have preferred not to have this party, but he was overridden by the rest of his family.

He knew it was important, a sign of good faith and acceptance. But his mind was plagued with the past and the pain and suffering that came from that. He wanted to forget the horrors and the violence and the blood, and focus on the future and the new life that was coming.

He dove head first into the politics, spending the evening schmoozing and talking business with the representatives of each faction. It was the only way for him to feel calm and in control, and it kept his mind from drifting into darker corners.

"Are you okay?"

His thoughts were interrupted by you, and the sound of your voice calmed him. You had come over to him and was holding his hand, looking concerned.

You looked so beautiful, your hair in soft curls, your belly protruding from a flowy blue dress. You were round and glowing and a perfect picture of motherhood.

"Of course," he assured you, squeezing your hand and taking a sip of his drink.

You were worried about him, he seemed distant and preoccupied.

"It's too much isn't it? This party," you asked, feeling a bit overwhelmed by the crowds.

"No," he shook his head, "it's wonderful," he forced a smile, not wanting to worry you.

"If you want to leave, we can," you offered, feeling uncomfortable, and not wanting him to be either.

He kissed the side of your head, a gesture that made you blush. "This is for the baby, and I will not deny the baby anything,"

Elijah had always been a bit affectionate towards you, but he never overstepped his bounds and you were unsure of how to handle it. You enjoyed his presence, but it was getting a little confusing.

You were a bit flustered, and excused yourself, going to find some air outside. Elijah watched as you walked away and was tempted to follow, but he had his hands full, trying to talk the wolves out of challenging a vampire for a perceived slight.

You leaned against the balcony, letting the cool air calm your nerves.

"How's it going?" Said a party goer, you weren't sure what faction they were a part of, but they seemed a little drunk.

"Fine," you said, not wanting to be bothered.

"Pregnant with a Mikaelson, that's some shit luck," he snorted, clearly intoxicated.

"Excuse me?" You scoffed, wondering why this was a topic of discussion.

"I mean, there are three benefits to fucking vampires," he began, holding his hand up to count them, "one, no diseases, two, usually really good in bed and three, no pregnancies,"

He began to laugh, and you felt angry and defensive.

"I would appreciate it if you kept your mouth shut," you warned, not wanting to hear the drunken ramblings of an idiot.

"Was it worth one and maybe two to not have the third?" He laughed, clearly not getting the hint.

You were furious, and you went to walk away, but he grabbed your arm. "Lemme touch your belly, I wonder how strong a Mikaelson kicks," he laughed.

Before you could react Elijah appeared and had the drunk man by the throat. A crowd of party goers gathered to watch the scene.

Elijah was completely overcome by his rage, the fear in your eyes when the man grabbed you took him right back into his endless nightmares. A small part of him knew he should let the man go, but he couldn't, he was consumed by the thought that if he let go, he would lose you, and that was unacceptable.

He squeezed tighter and the man gagged, clawing at his hands and begging for mercy. The crowd gasped in horror as Elijah's eyes went black and veins crawled across his face.

"To anyone here who thinks it's okay to touch her, let this be an example of the fate you await," he snarled.

"Elijah!" You yelled, but it was too late.

The man was dead, and his head fell from his body.

You stood in shock, the entire party was silent, and Elijah dropped the body and turned towards you. He was shaking, and his eyes returned to their normal color, the veins disappearing from his face.

He turned to the crowd, projecting his voice loud and clear. "Do I make myself clear?" He growled, looking at the faces of everyone around him.

The room was full of fearful nods, and the crowd slowly dispersed.

Elijah took your hand, leading you out of the courtyard and towards his room.

You followed without a word, still in shock. He closed the door behind you and you sat down on his bed.

"Are you alright?" He asked, kneeling in front of you, his hands on your bump.

You nodded, and placed your hands over his.

"You have to understand," he began, and you could hear the strain in his voice, "when he touched you, when I saw his hands on you, I..."

He took a deep breath, trying to compose himself, "I can't- I won't. Lose you."

"It's okay," you soothed, placing a hand on his cheek.

Elijah could hardly control his emotions, the fear and anguish was too much, and he let out a sob, pulling you into his arms and holding you tight.

You cradled his head in your hands and held him close, whispering sweet words and letting him know it was okay.

He was the strongest person you had ever known, and seeing him like this made your heart break.

"Shhh," you soothed, kissing the top of his head, "I'm right here, I'm not going anywhere,"

You felt his grip loosen, and his breathing became more steady.

"It's okay," you repeated, placing soft kisses on his cheek and forehead, and moving to his lips.

You hadn't kissed in nearly 8 months, not since the night you had made love and conceived the baby. But you felt him return the kiss, and he wrapped his arms around you.

He was hesitant and unsure of how you would respond. You had been together once, but things had been complicated and stressful. But he wanted to show you just how much he loved you.

He pulled away, searching your eyes, and finding only compassion and acceptance.

"I'm hoping we can try again, to be together, if you will have me," he whispered, brushing a lock of hair out of your face.

You leaned into his touch, and he was hopeful that you would want the same.

"Of course," you agreed, pressing a soft kiss against his lips, and running your fingers through his hair.

The two of you stayed like that for a while, wrapped up in each other and enjoying the moment. It was peaceful and the first time Elijah had truly felt at ease in months.

The day of the birth was finally upon you, and you were nervous and in pain. Freya and Hayley were at your side, holding your hand and trying to keep you calm as they helped you through your labor.

Elijah was pacing in the hallway, anxious and on edge. He had been a wreck, barely able to eat or sleep, and it was obvious to the entire family.

He stopped, listening to you moan and groan and hiss in pain. He wished he could take it all away, and felt a wave of guilt wash over him.

"Why don't you go be with her," Rebekah suggested, putting a hand on her brothers shoulder.

"She doesn't want me in there," he sighed, he had tried, and you had pushed him out, not wanting him to see you like this.

"She's in pain, she's probably not thinking clearly," Rebekah insisted, "trust me, she wants you in there,"

Elijah wasn't sure, but he couldn't handle not being near you any longer, so he went in, ready to be rejected.

You were in bed, sweating and panting and groaning. Hayley was holding your hand and Freya was using a spell to soothe your pain.

You opened your eyes, and saw him, and reached out for him, and he ran to your side, taking your other hand in his.

"You are doing so well," he said softly, his voice full of love.

"I can't," you groaned, feeling as though you couldn't go on.

"Yes, you can," he encouraged, kissing your knuckles.

You were in agony, but his touch and his voice were like a balm to your soul, and it gave you strength.

Rebekah was right, having him next to you was the best thing in the world, and it helped you through the hours of labor.

Finally, the moment came, and you screamed as you gave one final push. The room was filled with the sound of a crying infant and you collapsed back against the pillows.

"It's a boy!" Freya announced, cutting the umbilical cord and wrapping the baby up, passing him over to you.

"Oh my goodness," you cried, tears of joy running down your face as you looked down at the precious life in your arms.

"A boy," Elijah whispered, staring at his son in awe. He reached out and placed his hand on his sons head, feeling the soft downy hair.

"He's beautiful," Hayley commented, admiring the little bundle.

"Just like his father," you smiled, and Elijah kissed the top of your head, wrapping his arms around you and your new baby.

You were exhausted, but ecstatic, and Elijah couldn't help but feel pride and joy. He had helped create such a perfect and precious creature. Out of all of his darkness came something pure and beautiful, and he would do anything to protect his son.

As the night went on the others left, leaving you and Elijah alone with the baby. The both of you couldn't take your eyes off of him.

"We need to decide on a name," you said softly, stroking the babies face with your finger.

"I think," Elijah began, watching the baby squirm and wriggle, "he should be named after his uncle Henrik,"

"That's perfect," you smiled, a tear running down your cheek, "Henry,"

"Henry," Elijah repeated, looking at his son, "I'm your father, and I promise to always love and protect you,"

"I will love you, until the end of time," you whispered, placing a soft kiss on Henry's tiny nose.

Henry let out a little squeak and yawned, and you and Elijah laughed. He was the most perfect thing you and Elijah had ever seen, and the two of you couldn't stop smiling.

Life at the compound was hectic, with Hope and Henry underfoot. Elijah was always watching the babies, making sure they were safe and happy. He was a wonderful father and uncle, and it made you fall in love with him even more.

The two of you were utterly exhausted new parents and Rebekah insisted that the two of you take a break and spend a little time together. She convinced you and Elijah to let her care for Henry for a weekend, while the two of you got away.

It was hard for both of you, you had never been apart from him for more than a few hours, but the two of you needed the time alone.

"Just go, have fun," Rebekah had encouraged, taking Henry from Elijah, "you both need a break,"

The drive was long, but Elijah's company made it go by faster, and you finally arrived at the cabin.

"I hope this is okay," Elijah said, helping you out of the car.

"It's perfect," you assured him, it was cozy and private, and the view was spectacular.

The two of you walked inside, and took in the surroundings. It was a large cabin, with a beautiful stone fireplace and a big open kitchen. Elijah started the fire as you cooked dinner, the two of you fully in sync.

It was easy having him as a partner, and you felt relaxed and at home. The only thing missing from your lives was sex. Once Henry arrived it was a constant state of exhaustion and there wasn't much room for romance.

You thought back to the night Henry was conceived, and how passionate and hot the experience was. But you were nervous to do it again, the pregnancy had changed your body, and you weren't sure how he would react.

After dinner you cuddled up with him on the couch, his arm around your shoulder and your head resting on his chest. He kissed the top of your head and smiled.

"I've missed this," he said softly, playing with a loose strand of your hair.

"Me too," you admitted, running your hand up and down his arm.

He took a deep breath, and you could tell he was nervous about something.

"Is everything okay?" You asked, turning to look at him.

"Yes," he nodded, his brown eyes meeting yours, "I just...want you to know that I am completely in love with you, and I will do anything to make you happy,"

You blushed, and looked away, not sure what to say.

"And I know our relationship has been a bit unconventional," he continued, his voice low, "but I would like to court you, if you will allow me,"

"Court me?" You chuckled, "darling, I think you are doing this all backwards,"

"Perhaps," he laughed, taking your hand in his, "I couldn't ask for a better mother for my child, and a more devoted companion,"

You smiled, and leaned in, kissing him, and the spark was still there. He kissed back, cupping your face with his hands and pulling you onto his lap. His hands roamed your body and your breath hitched when he ran them up your thighs.

"Is this okay?" He asked, stopping, and looking up at you.

You nodded, and pressed your lips against his, wrapping your arms around his neck and grinding against him. He groaned and gripped your hips, guiding them to move with his.

You could feel his growing erection, and the friction against your core made you moan. You had missed this, and could hardly believe you had waited so long.

He picked you up and carried you to the bedroom, laying you down and crawling on top of you, his lips never leaving yours.

You ran your fingers through his hair, and his hands traveled up your shirt, caressing your skin and cupping your breast.

You felt a bit self-conscious, your body was different now, and he hadn't seen it. You didn't want him to be disappointed, but you knew he wouldn't judge you.

"Darling, are you alright?" He asked, pulling away, "we can stop,"

"No," you shook your head, and sat up, "it's just, I'm a little nervous,"

"About?" He asked, furrowing his brows.

"My body," you admitted, "it's different now, and I know it's stupid, but I'm worried,"

He gave you a knowing look, and pulled your dress up over your head. You body was different, your breasts fuller, your hips wider, stretch marks across your belly and thighs.

"These scars are nothing to be ashamed of," he began, kissing the stretch marks across your stomach, "they show your strength and the fact that you brought a beautiful and healthy baby into the world,"

"Elijah," you blushed, not used to hearing him speak so openly about your body.

"These breasts, they have nourished our son. These hips, they carried and protected him," he continued, his hands on your body, caressing every inch.

"I have no words for how beautiful you are," he concluded, his eyes full of lust, "may I continue?"

You nodded, and he pulled his shirt off, exposing his chiseled torso. You ran your hands over his shoulders, tracing his muscles, and down his chest.

He trailed his lips up to your breasts, gently kissing them and sucking your nipples. He was gentle and slow, and it felt incredible. They were extra sensitive from breastfeeding, and his touch sent a shock straight to your core.

He slowly removed your underwear, his eyes raking over your naked body. He kissed every inch of your skin, loving every part of you.

His lips traveled down your belly, and settled between your legs. His tongue moved expertly against your clit, and you gasped, grabbing the sheets.

He hummed contently, missing the taste of you, and wanting to please you. His hands held your thighs, and his tongue teased and swirled.

You moaned and arched your back, it had been so long and you were so close already. He knew just how to get you there, and it only took a few minutes for him to bring you over the edge.

He didn't stop, and continued, sucking and licking, bringing you to orgasm again and again. Your head was spinning, and you could hardly breath, but it felt amazing.

Finally he stopped, and kissed his way up your body, until his lips met yours.

"You deserve a reward for being such a perfect mother," he smiled, his voice full of pride.

You smiled, and kissed him again, running your hands down his chest and stopping at his waistband.

"Now I think it's your turn," you whispered, unbuttoning his pants.

He smiled and watched your face as you underdressed him. His cock sprung free, and you stroked it, running your hand up and down the shaft. Looking into his eyes as he kneeled over you, his eyes heavy and filled with lust.

"It's been so long, I missed your touch," he growled, his voice husky.

"I've missed this too," you replied, stroking him and running your thumb over the tip.

He kissed you slowly and deeply, moaning as your hands worked him. His tongue explored your mouth, and you felt him twitch and throb in your hands.

"Hold on," he said softly, moving away from you.

He got up and rummaged around his bag, coming back with a condom.

"I've never used one of these before," he said sheepishly, and it was the most adorable thing.

You laughed and sat up, taking the foil packet and opening it, rolling it over his cock and kissing him.

"Now, where were we?" You smirked, laying back down.

He crawled back on top of you, lining his cock up with your entrance. He was still gentle, but you were ready for him, and the two of you were eager.

He pushed in, and it felt like the first time, hot and tight. He took his time, pushing in a bit at a time and allowing you to adjust.

Once he was fully inside, he waited a moment, kissing you, and savoring the feeling of being joined with you.

You moved your hips, signaling him to move, and he complied, thrusting slowly and deeply.

The two of you rocked back and forth, the soft sound of skin against skin filling the air. He moved with the perfect rhythm, hitting the right spot with every thrust.

His mouth was on your neck, leaving love bites, and his hands were on your hips, gripping tightly.

"I love you," he groaned, his voice strained.

"I love you too," you moaned, feeling yourself getting close.

You never wanted this to end, a part of you longing for even more than what you already had. You looked into his eyes, feeling the way his body connected with yours so perfectly.

Your orgasm rushed over you, and you squeezed him so hard he pulled out for moment, his cock resting on your stomach. He looked down at you, your pupils blown with love and lust.

"Do you want to make a sibling for Henry?" You said softly, toying gently with the tip of the condom, searching his eyes for an answer.

"Is that something you want?" He asked, looking down at you with pure love.

"Yes," you nodded, "I want another baby, I want a whole family with you,"

He kissed you in response, then smiled down at you, his eyes shining with happiness.

"I will give you anything you want," he whispered.

You pulled the condom off slowly, both of you panting heavily. He looked down, watching as your hands wrapped around his bare cock, pumping up and down, spreading the precum over the head.

You lined him back up, and he pushed back in, his breath catching as he eased his way into your warm and wet heat.

You could feel him throbbing inside of you, his length twitching and swelling as he got closer. He moaned, and rested his forehead against yours, his eyes shut tight.

"I want you to cum inside me," you whispered, knowing he was close.

You could feel yourself getting close, and his breath was labored, his hips grinding against yours, your wetness coating him.

His hips snapped, and his hands gripped the sheets, and with one final thrust he came, filling you up and pushing you over the edge.

He kissed you as he came down, his cock still pulsing as he softened inside of you. He hummed happily, keeping you connected as he rolled you on your side.

You curled up against him, and kissed him, and he pressed his hand gently against your stomach, imagining a tiny being forming inside.

"I always wanted a family of my own," he said softly, nuzzling into you, "thank you for giving me that,"

You squeezed him tighter, understanding the weight of his words. He had given you everything, love, devotion, a family. It was everything you ever wanted. He had helped you become the happiest and the best version of yourself and you did the same for him.

The two of you laid there, cuddled up against each other, safe and content. Tomorrow would bring a new adventure, but right now everything was perfect.

♡♡ Tag-List ♡♡

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[yelenasdiary]

How about the story of Nat realizing she's pregnant and dealing with it all. Then the day to day life of Nat and her babygirl

Wondering

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Daughter! Reader

Summary: With help from her best friend, Clint, Natasha escapes the control of the Red Room and prepares for a whole new life.

Angst, Comfort.

Warnings: Mentions of Red Room, Pregnancy, Pregnancy Talk, Childbirth | 1.7K

Translations: милый (darling), я люблю тебя, солнышко (I love you, sunshine)

AC: I think this is the perfect request for the first fic of the AU! Thank you for sending this x I hope this helps set a little backstory for Nat.

A Widow’s Sunshine Masterlist

Natasha had been nothing but quiet for the last four days since staying with Clint at his farmhouse. It was a big house for a man who lived alone, Clint assumed that his friend was worried that the widows of the Red Room would find her and take her back but the look in Natasha's eyes told him that was far from her worries.

"Alright, tell me what's going on" Clint spoke as he sat down next to Nat on the sofa. His friend looked at him and sighed lightly, "Nat, come on, you can tell me" he added. Natasha knew the time would come and she would have to talk somewhat about her time in the Red Room. She and Clint have been on the run since she met him, although this was not the first time, she was able to escape, this time was the only time they haven't found her and brought her back. 

"Remember how I was telling you about the graduation ceremony?" Natasha replied, Clint nodded. "Well, I didn't tell you all the stages before it. Before the graduation and after you've completed the program, you're to hav-" Natasha paused, the trauma of her life catching up to her, although she was still young, in her early 20s, she felt she had already lived a lifetime of trauma. Clint placed his hand on top of hers for comfort, "whatever it is Nat, we'll get through it" he assured her. 

"I'm pregnant" the words spewed out. Nat could see the questions flying around Clint's mind and deserved to answer them before he asked. "It's Dreykov's way of getting more widows without getting caught, they inseminate you, you give birth, they take the baby, and you go to what they call recovery which is just them brainwashing you until you have completely forgotten the last 9 months. After that, you go through the graduation ceremony and…well the rest is what you already know" she explained. 

Clint took a moment to process the news he was just told, "do you" He paused unsure if his question would offend his best friend, but it was something he needed to know to be able to help, "do you want to keep the baby?" He asked. Natasha nodded as a soft smile tugged at her lips, "I've done enough bad in the world, and I'll be damned if I let them do the same to my baby. I know this isn't what you expected so I don't expect you keep me here, but I do need a little time to work something out" she replied. 

"Don't be stupid Nat. You can stay here as long as you and the baby need, you're safe here, I promise" Clint spoke sternly, assuring his words got through to his best friend. Natasha hugged him tightly, thanking him for his understanding and kindness and for a moment any worries she currently had were no more. 

----

Pregnancy for Natasha was a whole new chapter that she wasn't prepared for, but she loved every single moment of it. It gave her a sense of normality; she spent her days learning new things that would help her for when her baby would enter the world. Clint helped her along the way, he even began building a small homestead for Natasha to have a little more privacy when her baby was born. It was only a few months into her pregnancy that Clint met Laura. 

Each night Natasha would read you stories from a children's book she would buy from the thrift shop, even though you weren't born yet, the little actions she did while pregnant gave her great comfort and made her even more excited to finally hold you in her arms. She would talk to you about anything she was doing, baking cookies for Clint and Laura? She would be talking you through each step and even asking you questions as if you could actually answer her, sometimes you would kick, and she would take that as an answer. 

Even through all the happiness, joy and excitement there was still worries and fears growing with each day. She was suspicious as to why she'd gone almost her entire pregnancy without even a sighting or feeling that Dreykov was after her. Clint assured her that his farm was a safe place and even offered for Natasha to join the Avengers after you were born, and she felt ready. It was an idea that she spent time thinking about but at the end of the day all she wanted to do was make sure you were happy, healthy and safe.

"Woah there милый" Natasha chuckled, rubbing her hand over her bump, "this isn't the world cup" she added. 

"Kicking a lot today?" Clint asked, taking a sip of his afternoon coffee.

"She hasn't stopped" Nat replied. Clint looked up at her with wide eyes, "she? When did you find out" he asked with a hint of excitement in his voice. Natasha couldn't help the smile that tugged at her lips while her hand naturally rubbed her seven-month pregnant stomach, "I didn't need to find out" she replied, "She was always going to be a little girl" she added but she didn't let the faint memory of the Red Room bring out the happiness she had been having with each day you grew. 

Clint got up and hugged Natasha and congratulated her, he could see the sparkle in her eyes for the first time ever, he'd never seen her so happy in the few short years that he had known her. "I wanna show you something" he said, taking her by the hand and walking her out to the small homestead that he had just finished and was waiting until the next day to give her the key. 

"I was going to wait until tomorrow but given the news, maybe you want to start planning out the nursery" Clint smiled. Tears built up in Nat's eyes, "what do you think baby girl?" Natasha whispered as she looked around the empty room, "you can paint it, do whatever you like with it, this is all yours" Clint said.

"You've done so much for us, I can't thank you enough" Natasha turned on her heels and hugged him, "thank you" she whispered. 

Over the last couple months of pregnancy, Natasha was preparing for you to enter this world. She and Clint painted the nursery in a soft pastel green color, she hung a photo from her first ultrasound on the wall above your changing table, baby animal décor stickers were also put on the walls. Clint helped up together all the future and placed it wherever Natasha thought would be best and once the nursery was complete, she couldn't wait to rock you to sleep in her arms in the rocking chair or watch you play with your toys on the purple rug when you would get a little older. 

You entered the big wide world at 5:23am on a Thursday morning, healthy and a little smile that made everybody melt. Natasha didn't want to let you go, she could barely take her eyes off you, even when Clint and Laura came to bring the two of you home, she was nervous as anything when Clint held you. 

"Do we have a name yet for the little one?" a nurse asked, "we really need to get the birth certificate done today" she added. 

Natasha nodded, "Y/n Melina Romanoff" she replied with a soft smile. 

"Melina?" Clint questioned, "I'll tell you later, now give me my baby" the red head replied with a soft smile and arms wide open. 

"A beautiful name, I'll finalise the certificate" the nurse smiled, writing your name on a piece of paper. 

----

Natasha was loving every moment of motherhood, even when she felt like she was going to fall asleep while feeding you and when sometimes she thought it was going to be another sleepless night on the cards but being your mother was the only thing she wanted to do every single day. When you slept, she slept and often Clint would find her asleep in the rocking chair by your crib when he came to check on things. Clint and Laura helped as much as they could, but of course, your mother was head strong and said she was fine with looking after you on her own.

"You look exhausted" Clint said as he placed a small bag of groceries on the counter for Nat. "She just didn't want to sleep last night" she replied, pouring herself a mug of hot coffee and sitting down at the small table in her kitchen. "Why don't Laura and I take her for the night so you can get a decent sleep for once" Clint offered but Natasha shook her head, "it's not that I don't want that, I just hate the idea of not being with her" Nat admitted.

"She'll just be up at house, you need some sleep Nat, you can't keep being supermom on coffee and 3 hours of sleep each day" Clint spoke, worried for his best friend. "Besides, how else am I going to show her how great of an uncle I am if you don't let me do that" he added to lighten the mood. Natasha cocked a brow as she took a sip of her coffee, deep down she knew she had to eventually let her guard down just a little and allow others to help. She just wanted the best for you.

"One night" Natasha replied. 

Clint smiled, "you've got it" 

As the weeks turned to months, things got easier for the new mother, each day you had her in awe. Nat eventually did allow for Clint and Laura to spend more time with you while she had a little me time and caught up on sleep. She loved taking you for walks around the property in your pusher, she loved bath time and hearing your little giggles and of course capturing your sweet smile whenever she played peek-a-boo. 

At night when she would pop her head into your room to check on you, she found herself watching you for minutes on end. Her mind wondering about what life was going to bring for the two of you, what tomorrow would bring. She often wondered what your first words would be, when you would take your first steps and what all your favorite things would be but for now, she wanted nothing more than to just enjoy these early years and learn everything she possibly could about you.

"я люблю тебя, солнышко" your mother whispered as she placed the soft kiss on your forehead.

Taglist: @koinsss | @liloandstitchstan | @marcia-maximoff | @skittlebum | @katethewritersblog | @taliiiaasteria | @nova-kyle | 

If you want to be on the taglist for this series, please see the masterlist. It's linked at the top of this post.

[aggieharkness]

And in her arms, she cradled your heart Chp. 1

Pairing: Lilia Calderu x reader

Summary: It was a perfectly normal day at the shop, a tarot reading here, a book there, but after picking up a couple of things at Walmart you asked Lilia to do a pregnancy roulette with you, a fun harmless joke you had seen on Tik Tok, though when you looked at the tests that perfectly normal day changed completely.

Warnings: pregnancy, age gap, magical conception. I don't think there's anything else that needs to go here, for now.

Authors note: alright, I have finally come up with a lovely way to start this story, though I must say that @renafisher27 helped immensely so I must give her credit as well. I haven't written pregnancies in a while, so please be gentle but tell me how it looks, if you like it and all that. I accept constructive criticism, and if there's anything you might want to see in this story, don't hesitate to ask, I'll add it to the best extent I can. Also available on Ao3. Finally, let's thank Patti Lupone for giving us Lilia Calderu, and Jac for writing her so beautifully.

Chp. 2

Word count: 8827 (I've managed to write something short! It might not be the case for future chapters, you've been warned.)

I'm not leaving you, for anything in the world

The garden was quiet and beautiful this time of year, the lilies you had planted not that long ago blossoming under the warm light that came from the blue skies above, a gentle breeze crossing from the open glass doors of the shop all the way to the hanging chair you were resting on in a corner, watching as the leaves and flowers swayed to its gentle dance, bees jumping carefully in between the white and yellow frangipanis that climbed up the walls and fences, the only flower that Lilia had specifically requested, the rest of the garden for your hands to do as they pleased with. The aromas that filled the air with its wonderful floral tones mixed wonderfully with Lilia’s incense and rosemary candles, only eclipsed whenever she came out of the bath spreading a citrusy perfume all over the house, though you would never tell her to stop using that shampoo and gel, it was wonderful to go anywhere and pick up a whiff of oranges or lemons, your mind travelling straight to her. Your eyes were closed as you soaked up the sun, head lulled back against a pillow, the book you had in your hands forgotten as your ears picked up on the buzzing of the bees and the chirping of the birds, the grass a perfect shade of emerald green.  

Lilia was watching through the kitchen window, letting her cup of tea rest on the counter as her eyes raked over your relaxed figure taking every inch of you in, from the way stray locks of your hair swayed in the breeze to how one of your feet dangled from the chair, brushing the cool grass with your toes. You had been a wonderful change in her boring life and every second she had spent without you in the Witches Road had been torture, but she had refused to let you go with her, she had told you that she would not be able to finish it if she had to worry about you and as much as you had tried to convinced her not to go you knew she had to. Parting had been a bittersweet affair, but she had promised you she would return, and everything would be alright afterwards, and you had believed her every word because Lilia had never ever lied to you or let you down. After her trial had ended and she had stayed behind she had thought of you, a single tear running down her cheek, but she had been at peace with her actions. If her sacrifice would save her coven and in extent you, she would die happy even if she knew it would break your heart, her mind wandering to you sitting by the door, waiting for her to come back when in truth she would never cross that threshold again, but then the impalement had never come. The road had expelled her and covered in mud she had crawled through the Earth until the evening sun had shone on her face, her palms pressed firmly over the ground as she breathed the fresh air that swayed over the yellow fields, tears of relief and pain clouding her vision.

She had walked home from the middle of nowhere trusting her magic to find her way back to you, embracing the rush that she had fought against for so long. The world had never seemed so beautiful before, the sky painted in oranges and blues, hot tears running down her cheeks as her bare feet walked through the warm grass, her dirty peppery ringlets stuck to the nape of her neck and forehead, but she did not care, not when she was thinking of you and how you would not have to mourn her forever, lost in a road that’s you would never be able to enter alone. By the time she had reached her shop the evening had moved onto night, gentle hues of purple and pink transitioning into a deep navy as the universe above appeared sprinkled with stars. She had pushed the door, surprised to see that you had left it open, the tiny bell that hung from the ceiling ringing melodiously to announce her return, and in slow motion you had pushed the beady curtain open to see who had come in so late at night only to find her. You had never doubted her, not for a minute, her robe flowing around your form as you rushed to her to take her in your arms, the odour of mud and sweat filling your lungs, but underneath all that her citrusy perfume remained. That night you had not let go of each other, not for a second, as well as the next day, though you had taken breaks from making love to talk about all those things she had never found the courage to speak of, tears and laughter filling up the room along with the hushed words that were spoken against each other’s lips.

Seeing you now through the window Lilia could not help but feel like the road had given her not only her confidence in her powers back, but the life she had never thought she deserved to live. Taking one sip of her nearly forgotten tea, she scrunched her nose at the taste, the usual cinnamon flavour leaving a soapy aftertaste on her tongue that she disliked tremendously. Forcing her eyes to tear from your form she dumped the entire thing down the sink, checking the pot to see if maybe she had forgot to rinse it, but there was no foam, simply the dark colour of the hot liquid. It was rather odd, tea usually lasted for really long periods of time, so she picked up the kettle and plugged it in to prepare a pot of vanilla and black tea, another favourite of you both, busing herself among the cupboards and such. It had also happened earlier that week that she had taken a bite of a cinnamon roll you had bought for her at Wendy’s and had had to spit the bite she had taken onto a napkin because of how horrible it had tasted to her; to you it was just as good as always. This was beginning to be a pattern, a sudden hate for cinnamon that she couldn’t quite understand, but it was not the end of the world, she thought, it would have been much worse had she suddenly developed an intolerance for chicken or cheesy fries. Just as she was thinking about a delicious bag of cheesy Doritos the kettle began to whistle, but even as she poured the hot water inside a clean pot that already had the leaves inside, she just couldn’t get the image of the Doritos out of her mind.  

The idea of having a whole bag just seemed to be seeping into her bones, making her ache as it had quickly shifted from something she might want to have to a need; she needed Doritos, and it was insane just how much. Lilia left the pot so the tea could brew, poking her head through the kitchen window. You looked so peaceful, so calm and relaxed on your free day from work, but she could not leave the shop, she was open for business today so you would have to go down to the store and get her a couple of bags, just to be safe.

-Darling, can you listen to me for a minute?

-I’m not asleep, I’m just laying here soaking in the sun like a lizard. What’s up?

-Can you do me a favour?

-It depends. If it involves clothes being taken off, I’m in, if it involves soap and dishes, sorry I’ll have to pass.

-Don’t get cheeky with me, as if you wouldn’t do the dishes if I promised to bed you two minutes later, but that’s not the favour. Can you go down to the store and get some bags of cheesy Doritos?

-Doritos? – you opened one eye to see her head poking through the window, the tender breeze that was twirling around in the garden caressing her face, making the lose curls sway around her cheeks and neck. She was looking at you with those big doe eyes that she knew you could not resist, her lower lip in between her teeth in an almost pleading manner. -You are not one to eat that sort of thing often.

-I know, but I’m really craving some, like I really need them. Could you do that? You can take the car down to Walmart if you want, get yourself something.

It wasn’t such a bad plan, you loved going down to Walmart or Target, and you had heard of this new flavour of Buldak ramen, maybe you could get yourself that. Nodding towards Lilia you stretched on the chair, feeling it sway as you moved but it quickly stopped when you placed your bare feet over the grass, letting its cool touch seep through your toes before picking up your book and heading inside. Lilia was quick to give you a peck as a thank you, a childish like grin on her lips as she poured herself a cup from the vanilla tea, the sip tasting perfectly fine. You noticed the other pot, sniffing the liquid and noticing the cinnamon aroma it held, your eyes drifting to Lilia’s back as she pushed the beady curtains away and stepped back into the shop. So, she still had a thing against cinnamon, okay, you thought as you put a pair of old vans on, leaving the book on the kitchen table; maybe she had just switched tastes, it had happened to you with strawberry ice cream, you used to hate it and now you just couldn’t get enough. Picking up the car keys, your wallet and your phone you stepped out into the shop just as an older woman was entering it, her eyes looking around for a minute before Lilia stood gently from her chair and greeted her, her voice sweet and tender as she guided her towards the table. You waved silently at her, Lilia smiling back at you, before stepping out into the street, opening her old Toyota from 2010 that was screaming to be retired, but neither of you had the money to get a new one.

It was a bit run down but clean, and you serviced it as often as you could, so it was not a threat to either of you or other drivers, but the pedals were beginning to get softer under the weight of your feet and the gear shift would probably need to be changed in a couple of years, maximum, which, to be fair, was shit but there just was no way you could magically fix it, you had tried without Lilia knowing. The journey wasn’t too long, the big Walmart that Eastview had was only like a five minute drive, and the parking lot was big enough that there were always empty spots, so after taking the next exit and swerving the car you braked and put it in neutral near the front doors before stopping it completely and stepping out, checking your phone to see a message from Lilia asking you if you could get a box of Cheez-it as well. You had to smile at that. She had been acting a bit weird in the last couple of weeks, though you weren’t sure if she had noticed, and the sudden development of craving for anything with a shit ton of cheese on it was one of the best things that was coming out from whatever she had going, the hate for cinnamon thought, that was peculiar because she really loved to use it for her candles and protection spells. Anyhow you were on a mission to find the cheesiest Doritos in existence, so you made your way to the automatic doors, shivering under the cold air of the AC. Divine Mother, it wasn’t that hot outside, you were going to freeze your tits off before you had reached the first aisle. Walking through dairy, meats and fish and the sauce aisle you finally reached the snacks one, eyes surveying every product you could see until you found the box of Cheez-it, which when you read the sign underneath it said that there was an offer of three boxes for only 23$, that was a good deal.

You threw them into your trolley and continued the search for the Doritos. You had barely taken three steps to the right when they came face to face with you, an assortment of over seven different flavour plus dips, your index finger tracing the shelves until you found a family size bag of cheese flavoured ones, which you picked two bags of and dumped them onto the trolley forgoing the dips all together as Lilia wasn’t a big fan of premade sauces and such, after all you had an entire cupboard filled with homemade tomato sauce that you two spent an entire day preparing every few weeks. They had moved things around, so finding which aisle had the ramen took you about four tries, including crossing the medicine aisle. In your house homemade remedies were the go-to, but Advil and Tylenol were the only two pills Lilia allowed to have in the bathroom cupboard, you had tried to get cough syrups, but it had been a lost battle. Your eyes moved over the colourful packages, still amazed at the number of medications that one could easily buy without a prescription until you came across all the pregnancy tests. Now wouldn’t that be funny, to come home and do a pregnancy roulette with Lilia. She would say no at first, of that you were sure, but hey, maybe you could actually get her to do it and you could have a laugh about two lesbians considering the possibility of being with child. Maybe it was only funny to you, but since you were the one paying you took two traditional ones and a Clearblue one, throwing them over the Doritos and continued your search for the Buldka, but when you arrived they had all flown, so you had to settle on the cheese hot chicken one because Lilia would most definitely steal from your plate and she only liked that one and the rose one.

You looked around for a few more minutes but didn’t see anything that you fancied at that moment, so you went to the checkout, the cashier looking at the tests and up to you a couple of times, a cheeky smile on her lips, but you didn’t say anything, simply paid for the items, wished her a good evening and went to get to your car. Throwing the items in the back seat you sat behind the wheel a sudden feeling of anxiety and anticipation blooming in your chest, though you did not understand why. The roads were empty and the spot you had left only twenty minutes before was still there, the nervousness that was spreading through every cell and limb nearly making you fuck up as you parked the car, but after a couple of minutes extra manoeuvring you finally turned the motor off and stepped out. There was an extra bag that you always carried in the trunk, and after you picked it up and placed the items inside you made your way to the store, noticing that it was empty once more; the woman must have left not that long ago as Lilia was tidying up her deck and blowing the candles she had lit. The sound of your footsteps made her lift her head, that beautiful ringlet that was always framing her face bouncing gently at the movement, her eye shinning up at you, her smile the most beautiful thing in the universe. You could remember the day you had stepped inside this shop, tired, done with the world kicking you in the butt, and to be honest you hadn’t expected to hear anything good or true, but the instant Lilia had appeared the universe stopped moving, time still as her plump lips smiled gently at you.

How were supposed to simply sit there when the most gorgeous woman you had ever laid eyes on was sitting across the table asking you to cut the deck. She had read you from front to cover, every single thing you had ever lived, every moment of happiness and pain, and the session you had expected to be no longer than fifteen minutes turned into an hour, and then a cup of tea to calm your nerves and then the secret that you were a green witch spilled out and you cried some more, but she was there to hold you and reassure you, whispering that she was a divination witch in your ear. You had entered her shop over two years ago and had never left, though you would never ever do if you had a say in it. She had healed you, protected you and taught you all the things that no one had ever bothered with, and in return you had given her all the love of your heart not spearing costs. Seeing her smiling up to you now was even better than that day, because this wasn’t a simple polite grin, it was her love speaking to you in every single way she could think of. Putting your hand inside the bag you took one of the Dorito bags out, her smile spreading wider, her hands clasping in front of her chest, rushing to you and giving you a delicious peck, the taste of vanilla tea lingering on her lips.

-Oh, thank you Y/N!

-You really are craving them.

-You don’t know. – she didn’t even wait until she was in the back, she ripped it open and pulled one perfectly shaped triangle, popping it in her mouth. The sigh of relief that she made as she chewed made you chuckle, following her into the kitchen so you could take the rest of the items out of the white plastic bag. Lilia was busy with her Doritos, but when she turned to ask you if you wanted some her eyes saw the boxes of pregnancy tests, her hand stopping mid-way to her mouth. – Why did you get these?

-You are going to think I’m stupid, but I thought we could take one each and do like a pregnancy roulette.

-That is the dumbest thing I’ve heard in a while, and I talk with Agatha and Rio on a daily basis.

-Okay, no need to be so harsh Calderu. – you carried on putting the Buldak and Cheez-it boxes away in the cupboard next to the stove where the cereal and a lonely bottle of Pringles were. - It’s just something fun and stupid we could do. You have been craving cheese like crazy and can’t stand cinnamon, can you imagine if yours came out positive?

-I really can’t leave you alone for one minute.

-No, you can’t. Come on Lils, I want to do it; you are not going to leave me hanging are you?

Your puppy eyes always managed to melt her and agree to anything, and this time it wasn’t going to be any different. It really was dumb, in her opinion, and a waste of money, but you wanted to do it, so why the hell not, you had got her the Doritos, and they had been family size, she owed you one. With a sigh she put the bag on the kitchen table but not before warning you not to touch them, wiping her hands on a tea towel and picking one of the boxes up to read the instructions as she made her way to the bathroom. One for you, you thought, picking up the other box to see what the hell you were supposed to do. You knew you were supposed to pee, but did it have to be on a cup or could just do it on the stick, you supposed it didn’t matter much as long it touched pee. A minute later Lilia came out with hers, and you quickly picked the extra one that came in the box and headed for the bathroom yourself after placing Lilia’s inside the now empty package. It really was easy but a bit messy, and you spend a whole minute washing your hands afterwards but when you stepped out you put in the box along with her, gently shaking it with a smirk on your lips, Lilia having picked up her bag of Doritos once again.

-And now we wait for three minutes or so.

-How much did the tests cost you?

-Why do you want to know?

-So, I can think of how much money you just wasted for “fun”.

-Oh, don’t be like that. – you poured yourself a cup of tea, the cinnamon pot already in the sink, sitting yourself next to Lilia as she carried on with her snack as if her life depended on it. - I’ve seen people doing it on Tik Tok, why not us?

-We are lesbians dear, unless you have forgotten how anatomy works, you can’t quite get pregnant the usual way.

-But there’s still the magical way, and I am a green witch, and I always get very excited when I’m with you.

-You are cheeky today.

Her kisses tasted like powdered cheese which wasn’t quite alright with you as you took another sip of the vanilla tea, but it could have definitely been worse. You could still remember a hot day in the summer of about one year ago when instead of using salt for her Bolognese pasta she had used sugar, a bit of a miscommunication issue after getting new jars, making lunch uneatable and forcing you to order uber eats. McDonalds was always a welcome meal after a hard day’s work even if that work had been lunch. Lilia took a Dorito out and handed it to you, but you declined, and she didn’t even give you the chance to change your mind before it was already in her mouth, the timer on your phone going off, breaking the comfortable silence that had filled the room as you both ate. Your heart was beating fast against your ribs, although you didn’t know why, both of you already knew the answers you were going to get, but it still raced as you picked up the box and shook it as if that could mix the two tests even further, a drumroll from your fingers against the kitchen table echoing around you both before you pulled one test out and placed it with the symbols against the wood, repeating the same action with the other one.

-At the count of three you pick one and I’ll pick the other and we show it to each other, okay?

-Fine, the sooner we are done with this the sooner you can go back to the garden, and I can relax without you in here.

-You hurt my feelings, Lilia. – in a faux feeling of pain, you turned your head away from her, a hand on your chest to make it even more dramatic, but it only lasted a second before you put your hand over one of the tests, curious. -Ready? One, two, three.

Lilia was a bit faster than you, and when she picked up her test and showed it to you, you saw only one line, relief washing through your veins. Children had never been a topic you two had discussed much and for some reason the idea of becoming a mum, be it by you expecting or not was something you had not considered until this very minute, but it was okay, it was negative. And then you looked up at Lilia, your hands showing the other test in her direction, and you saw how her face had turned white as milk, eyes wide, the weight of the world crushing her under its heaviness. Obviously in a hurry you turned the test to see a cross, and it wasn’t one strong line and a really faint one, no, it was a very clear cross. The world stood still right there and then, your blood running cold inside your veins for a second before you stared back at Lilia, but she had reacted opposite to you and she pushed herself off her chair to pick up the box of digital pregnancy tests, ripping it open with hurried breaths. She was clearly in distress and didn’t even bother to say a word as she took one and rushed to the bathroom, the box sliding across the table so you could take one as well, but your arms were suddenly frozen on the spot.

There was no way in hell it could be true, it had to be a false positive, you were both lesbians and neither of you had cheated, of that you were more than sure. At work there was no chance of you meeting decent people that could spark any interest whatsoever and even if they did, you would never ever hurt Lilia like that, and you knew that after all the pain and heartache she had gone through in four centuries she would never risk destroying something as precious as what you two had, something that had healed her and shown her what love was supposed to feel like. So how on Earth could one of you be expecting? It was a preposterous idea and yet there was something in your bones telling you that it was so, that it was very true, and that you and your magic were to be faulted. Lost in thought you hadn’t heard Lilia coming out of the bathroom, but you did hear her pacing behind your back for a few moments before everything turned quiet. Suddenly the world was rushing around you and you turned on your chair to see Lilia staring at the test she had in her hand, unmoving, her face unreadable. You knew you had to see, but part of you was terrified of what you might find out and yet you stood and on shaky legs you began to walk her way until you stood face to face, and your hands gently grabbed her wrists, moving them downward so you could see.

-Oh. Oh, Lilia. – it said pregnant plus a +3 weeks, meaning that in the time that had passed since she had returned from the Witches Road, since the night you had shared without a single care in the world, only loving each other, thanking the universe that the day you had said goodbye to Lilia wouldn’t be your last farewell, she had been creating a brand new life, nestled safely in her womb. This was your fault, you thought.

-Guess it wasn’t such a stupid thing to do after all.

-I’m so sorry, I know this wasn’t what we wanted, what we had planned. Oh Lilia, this is all my fault. What are we going to do?

-I’m the one who’s supposed to be panicking you know. – it was unnerving how calm she looked, how collected as she made her way to the closest chair, the bag of Doritos forgotten on the side of the table, her beautiful brown eyes unable to break their gaze from the test that she held tightly in her hands. You were quick to follow, kneeling in front of her with your hands on her knees, over her red and blue gown.

-I’m sorry.

-Don’t be. This is as much your fault as it is mine, neither of us thought your abilities could create life like this, not yet anyway.

-And what are we going to do? I mean, I’m glad to know why you’ve been acting kind of weird, but this … this is a baby, it’s not some thing you are going through and that will pass in a few days.

-I know. What do you think we should do?

-I don’t know that’s why I’m asking you, after all you are the one who’s expecting.

-Yeah. I’m the pregnant one. – it seemed to be dawning on her slowly, the shock making way for both a profound sense of terror and an unmeasurable feeling of happiness, both tainted with doubts. Tears began to build in her eyes, and you were quick to hold onto her free hand to steady her. -Oh, Y/N, I’m pregnant. We are going to have a baby! How did this happen!?

-I guess I didn’t control my magic. I had missed you too much and there was this fear that I might lose you and… I don’t know. I didn’t think that we could do this, I just wanted to have you close, to love you and never let you go. I don’t even know how I did it, how we did it.

-Well, this is big Y/N, our lives will change forever. I have no clue how we are going to navigate this whole thing. One thing is to visit Sharon’s grandnieces and nephews, and another completely different thing is to have a baby of our own. Are we ready? Do you even want this Y/N?

-How could I not when it’s a piece of you and me that you are carrying Lilia. It will be hard but I’m not leaving you for anything in the world. I will stay by your side through thick and thin, and I will love this baby until the day I die, no matter what. I believe we can do this; we’ve waited more than a hundred years to find each other and build something strong. We can do it.

-We can do it. We are going to have a baby.

The tears she had tried to keep at bay were now flowing freely down her cheeks, a timid smile spreading on her rosy lips before it turned into a bright grin as you gathered her in your arms, that terror that you were both feeling eclipsed by the happiness and joy of this news. Holy shit, you were going to have a baby! Lilia was pregnant, wow, this is certainly not how you had seen the day going at all, and you weren’t sure if your brain was actually comprehending the situation, but it didn’t matter too much, Lilia was your priority right now. She cried on your shoulder, her left hand still holding onto the test, her body suddenly feeling completely different. When she had been younger she had dreamt of having a family, but the gaps and the death of her coven had turned her life dark and bitter, and as she tried to find a place for herself only to run away when people discovered she was a witch, it just began to slip into the back of her mind until it only popped up when she was at her lowest, when she began to wonder if maybe living for so long wasn’t as wise as she had thought. The feeling that her chance had passed was a thorn that she could not pull out of her heart, the pain would have been too great, but after centuries of living like this her heart had grown around it, learning to cope with the missed dreams she would never have. Sitting in her small kitchen, nestle in between your arms she realised that said thorn was gone, vanished into the ether, every single reaction her body was making, every twitch and spasm bringing the fact that she was growing a whole person, after four hundred and fifty years, to the front of her mind as the news sank in.

She was supposed to have kept her walls up, her magic under control so yours wouldn’t be able to mingle with hers, but the road had left her vulnerable and the sight of you wearing her own robe, the perfume that still lingered in it comforting you through the entire ordeal, had made something inside her click, as if there had been one final piece of the puzzle left for her to find, and when her eyes had settled on your form it had been clear that that piece was you, awaiting her return. She had been raw and bare before you, under you, on top of you, and the gentle tendrils of yellow magic had enfolded your sweet sage ones as one, making her feel alive, cared for, loved. That night there had been a sparkle of something, a spell not really spoken, a deep desire that had set the wheels in motion. She pushed herself off your shoulder to face you, her deep chocolate eyes a bit red and puffy, streaks of tears painting her rosy cheeks and yet there was a bright smile on her lips, so precious that if it had been night she would have been able to light the entire town, and all the doubts and fears you had felt in the last few minutes vanished. You wanted this, you hadn’t known until this every moment that the prospect of having a child with Lilia was the most wonderful thing that had happened to you since meeting her.

In a hundred and forty-three years of life children had never crossed your mind, not even once, they were there, so to speak, they did their thing and you did yours, never crossing paths and you had been perfectly fine with that. You had felt far too young to think about it at first, but then wars had happened, depressions, crisis, and your life had just taken extreme turns, far too many for you to even consider forming a family and then of course had been the fact that, first, your magic was a mess and you could not control it one bit, and second, you didn’t have someone you loved enough to settle down with. All that had changed with Lilia and knowing that from the two of you she had been the one to fall pregnant both terrified and thrilled you. You were sure she would be the most beautiful pregnant woman in existence but what you were absolutely certain of was that she would be the best mother in the universe, in every universe. You could almost see it, Lilia sitting in the garden under the warm sun of summer cradling a little thing in her arms, the sweet quiet noises coming from the baby the most wonderful sounds you had ever heard, their skin soft under you finger as you caressed their cheek amazed by their fuzzy curls that resembled Lilia’s when she was younger, the wonders never stopping every time they opened their big eyes to look at you with that unique power Lilia had mastered throughout the years and that they had inherited. You could see that same bright smile Lilia was giving you right now in the kitchen, her face still carrying some of the baby weight she had gained, but it did not matter, she was still the most beautiful woman, the love of your life that had granted you a wish you had never even known you desired.

But until that scene could come true many things had to happen and suddenly reality crashed down over your head. You had no clue what you were supposed to do now, like was she meant to sit on the couch with her feet up until she gave birth? You would have to throw away every single pod of coffee, you had heard it was bad, an alcohol, and cigarettes, did the smoke of candles count? You felt your panic rising, but Lilia was quick to reassure you with a simple touch, the palm of her hand resting on your cheek as she finally let go of the test, letting it fall on the kitchen table. Your knees were beginning to hurt from how you were positioned on the floor, the tiles digging onto the skin and hitting your rotulas, so you pushed yourself onto a chair, still facing her as if by giving her your back would suddenly make you wake up to realise this was all a dream, fearing that she would vanish like smoke in between your fingers and you would find yourself in the still of the night waiting for her to return from the road. But she was solid, real, and she was having your baby, and you could not help the chuckle that escaped your lips, turning into a melodious laugh as you pulled her to her feet and gathered her in your arms, twirling around the room. Lilia had to join you, her arms wrapped around your neck as she let you sweep her off her feet, literally, her own laughter mingling with yours for a minute until she felt you placing her gently on the floor.

-Oh my God, I shouldn’t be picking you up like that, should I? - your hands were suddenly grabbing her upper arms as if she was made out of porcelain and could crack any minute, her own tapping yours as she chuckled. It touched her just how worried you looked, as if something could almost literally make her collapse, but she was perfectly alright, she felt strange but at the same time perfectly fine.

-It’s fine Y/N, I’m fine. I don’t think that this is going to do me much harm.

-Do we have any baby books or pregnancy books?

-No, not really. It’s not a topic we usually read about.

-Then I’ll have to check Google.

-Whatever for? – you let go of her and practically slid over the tiles to grab your phone from the kitchen counter, unlocking it and opening a brand-new tab, typing the single word “Pregnancy” as if instructions would pop up on your screen.

-I have no idea what we are supposed to do! Like, what can you eat, is there anything that you can’t do, is magic safe for you right now?

-Y/N, darling, calm down. Let’s just call Jen, she’ll know exactly what to do.

-Jen? Why do we need Jennifer, she’s a potions witch.

-She’s also a certified midwife. I would feel more comfortable if she were to come and check me instead of us having to fake a birthday and pay two hundred dollars to sit in a waiting room to see a doctor who’s going to complain about my age straight away.

-Okay, okay, if that’s what you want that’s what we’ll do. – you needed to take a couple of deep breaths before you lost your shit, leaving your phone on the kitchen table and moving your hands up and down to calm yourself before sitting back down on your chair. - Divine Mother, and I thought I was going to have a relaxing day doing nothing.

-Tell me about it, I just found out I have a tiny being inside me.

Lilia was always so collected, so calm, or at least most of the time, but underneath that smile and controlled breaths you could see the nervousness that was coursing through her veins as she wriggled her hands in front of her chest. This whole thing was going to be a big change, she knew, and she was no stranger to change but not to this calibre. With quiet steps she rummaged through her purse, on top of the coffee table, pulling out her big black phone before making her way towards her own chair. She unlocked it and tapped the phone icon and Jen’s name but suddenly she found herself unable to follow with her own words, fear overtaking everything else. Jen would be kind, she knew, but what if things went wrong, what if she let it slip and the entire coven found out before she was ready to share this news, what if they had got their hopes up, joy and happiness filling their chests only to be let down, to be told that there was nothing, that the test was wrong. She didn’t feel like she could fight that war, she couldn’t simply sit there and hear her say that there would be no baby, not after realising just how much she wanted this one. Without prior notice she felt tears gathering in her eyes and in an attempt to not cry she lulled her head back, taking a few deep breaths. It took you by surprise this reaction, the way her eyes had quickly shifted from happiness to unbridled fear.

-Hey, hey, what’s wrong? – you took the phone and left it beside yours, taking one of her hands in yours while the other grabbed her chin and gently moved it so she would look at you, a single tear running down her cheek.

-What if we are wrong? What if they are false positives?

-The probability of two being wrong is very low Lilia. But you can take another if you want.

-And if its negative? What if its you the one that’s pregnant and not me?

-Darling, you made me go to store to buy a bag of Doritos, which I’ve only seen you eat like four times in two years, and two of them were at Agatha’s. I’m not pregnant, I don’t feel any different from how I usually feel, I don’t get sick when I have some cinnamon, I don’t have these crazy cravings for cheese either, unlike you. Trust me on this, okay? Everything will be fine, I promise.

-Do you really mean it?

-I do. I know you are scared, but everything will be just fine. How about I call Jen, and you can take another test if it will make you feel better.

Your thumbs wiped her tears as tenderly as you could manage, hating to see her so upset when only a minute before she had been over the moon. You supposed this was brought on also by the roller coaster of hormones she must have going on, but you weren’t going to voice that, you didn’t wish to upset her any further; she didn’t deserve to feel worse than she already did. It was strange the way she nodded, vulnerable before your eyes just like when she had shared all those heartbreaking stories about her past, letting you handle what she couldn’t at the moment. She was carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders, doubts and fears crushing her under it all, but as long as you were there you would lift it off of her as much as you could. You pulled her into a kiss, her lips holding onto the cheesy flavour of the Doritos, but as much as you wished to deepen it you stopped yourself, pecking her forehead before you picked up her phone from the table. Lilia remained on her chair for a few more seconds as she collected herself and as you pressed the call button, she picked up the box and vanished into the bathroom. It rang once, then twice, and as the third one was mid ring Jen’s deep voice answered, greeting Lilia with a warm friendly tone.

-Hi Jen, it’s Y/N.

-Oh, hi. How are you?

-I’m not sure at the moment. Look, I called because Lilia and I have a bit of a situation going on here and I was wondering if you could pop over in like five to ten minutes.

-Is everything alright? Do I need to bring ingredients for an antidote again? – her tone was playful, but there was a slight jab that tainted them. She just couldn’t resist making you feel a little bit bad about your lack of potion skills, could she? Well, you had no time to engage her in a battle of ironies and sarcasms.

-No, but if you have like a… midwife bag it would help.

-You need me as a midwife? What’s going on? What did you two do?

-You can’t tell anyone Jennifer, and I mean it, no one. Lilia is already all over the place as it is, and I don’t want Agatha or Rio mocking her. We took some tests and hers came back positive.

-WHAT?!

-Jen, my ear!

-Are you serious? Like you got Lilia pregnant for real?

-Yes. Could you come over and check her or do whatever you are supposed to do?

-Sure, sure, I’ll be there in five, I just need to get my bag from my apartment.

-Thank you so much. She’s freaking out and she will only let you see her.

-Okay, keep her calm, I’ll be there soon. Bye

-Bye.

Jen cared for Lilia more than she let on, but you could see it whenever they were together, whenever they talked, she would look at her with a protective glaze in her eyes, as if she could keep her away from harms way. It did not mean she was in love with her, no, she cared for Alice that way, with Lilia it was as if they were sisters, looking out for each other, and you didn’t expect anything else after what they had shared in the tunnels and during Lilia’s trial. They had gone for three days thinking that the other was dead only to find each other in front of the psychic store when Jen had gone there to pay her respects and leave a bouquet of lilies, the flowers forgotten on the floor when they saw each other. Jen had only cried one time during the road but seeing Lilia alive and well after the entire ordeal was like seeing her sister after being apart for years, only an old letter in a drawer to remember her by. Jen could be many many things, like arrogant or rude at first, but once you got to know her, she was kind and caring and she showed it by jabbing you every once in a while, a playful banter that sometimes ended up in arguments that would soon turn into deep conversations over a cup of tea. You trusted her with Lilia because you knew she would never harm her, and she would be honest with all of her findings, exactly what you both needed. Lilia was yet to come out of the bathroom you noticed, her phone locked and on the kitchen table as you stood and headed for the powder room, knocking gently on the door.

-Darling, is everything alright?

-Yeah. – her voice was slightly muffled by the wood, but you could have sworn there was a happier tone to her affirmation, though your mind could totally be making things up.

-Does the test say anything?

-Yeah.

-Do you want to tell me?

The handle was pushed down, the door opening slightly for you to go in. It was a small room, an old ceramic sink on the left side with two glasses with your toothbrush and hers, a bathtub with a white shower curtain like four or five feet from the door and a toilet, where Lilia was sitting on, right in front of the sink and mirror. Without a word she lifted the three pregnancy tests that had been left in the box, two of them showing blue deep crosses while the other one, the last digital test, showed the same message, “+3 weeks pregnant”. Lilia could not believe the relief she had felt when they had taken barely a minute to show the results, like a wave that had swept away all the fear and worry. She was most definitely carrying your baby, there was no doubt about it after five tests, a weight lifting of her chest when you caressed her cheeks and smiling, kissed her tenderly. She still wondered how it was that she could not get enough of your lips, of how much your kisses grounded her and helped her sooth her aching heart when the past came to knock her down. It was the only thing she could never live without. Parting from her you did not move from your spot, squatting before her.

-Do you feel better now?

-Yes, very much.

-I talked with Jen and she’ll be here shortly. How far along do you think you might be?

-Seven or eight weeks? If we take the night I came back as the conception date.

-You were very receptive to me that night, I think it would be right to assume it is. How about you sit on the couch, and I’ll make you a cup of tea until she arrives.

-Just warm up the vanilla that’s on the pot, no need to dirty more dishes.

Perhaps you were seeing things that were not quite there, but she seemed to be glowing. Her eyes held a different light to them, her soft curves seemed to speak of a secret she nestled under her heart, so precious that she didn’t think she could love someone so much even before they had laid eyes on them, a little life that you had both created. There were no need for words, not anymore, and you took Lilia’s hands in yours to take her out into the living room, her body following without protest as the evening light began to change into oranges and pinks that bathed the room beautifully, the colours reflecting on Lilia’s peppery curls in a lovely rainbow that reached her eyes, so deep, so rich and happy. Walking backwards you rounded her favourite armchair and pushed her softly until she was sitting with her back on her flowery cushion, your lips making contact with the soft skin of her palm, sprinkled with freckles and spots brought on by time. You did not care that she was over four hundred years old, she could have been a thousand and you would have still loved her for all eternity, every second of every minute of every day without a doubt, without question. She had meant everything to you for two whole years, and now you had something else you could love her even more for. Your fingers slipped from hers as you made your way to the pot, the amber liquid lukewarm to the touch as you let a drop fall on your pinkie. Picking up a clean cup you poured her some and placed it in the microwave to warm up again, taking the time until the microwave beeped to head to the shop to turn the sign from “open” to “closed”, pushing the door slightly closed but not fully shutting it, the cooler breeze that was still coming through it and from the garden keeping the house at a nice temperature.

Night would soon come, and in your dreams, you hoped to see what the future may hold for you both, a little girl with Lilia’s curls or a little boy with her big brown eyes, you didn’t care much, as long as they were healthy, and Lilia had no issues. The microwave beeped as you stared through the glass to the sky above, the streetlamps having just turned on keeping the stars hidden from your eyes, but it did not matter, as soon as you crossed the beady curtain, Lilia’s head turned to look at you, a sweet smile on her lips as she curled on her armchair, her feet under her. Her eyes held all the stars you needed to see. Crossing the room to the kitchen you picked up the cup and placed it on a saucer, and as you turned to head back to her you saw the open bag of Doritos, a smile gracing your lips. Coming around Lilia you handed her the tea, a quiet thank you reaching your ears, but you did not sit down at her feet like you always did when you were watching the telly, no, you took your free hand and placed it on her lower stomach, her eyes travelling down to watch it as it rested over her red and blue gown. A gasp escaped your lips when you felt it, a small spark of magic that was not quite yours nor Lilia’s, your fingers tingling at the feeling, until she placed her own hand over yours, the electricity passing from yours to hers, both raising your heads to look at each other. Lilia’s smile was so deep and bright, so utterly happy that you could not help it, and you crashed your lips over hers letting her feel the joy and glee that was coursing through your veins, the tea forgotten on the armrest as her hand went up to your cheek. When you had woken up you hadn’t imagined that a simple joke could bring such happiness to your life, that your Lilia, your wonderful, beautiful Lilia would be the one to give you a family, though you could not imagine anyone else you do this with.

-I think Y/N, that we are having a baby.

[aishangotome]

Azel Radwan: Chapter 19 Premium Story

Chapter 19

Thank you @passthechloroform for providing the video for this chapter!

♡———♡

If there's a beginning, there's an end.

That day might come sooner than we think.

Sooner than we can even prepare ourselves.

Azel: Akatsuki, I recommend leaving Tanzanite before the full moon.

(Huh…?)

Azel sipped his Zel tea and spoke seriously.

The owner's eyes changed at the prophecy from the God who could foretell a definite reality.

Akatsuki: ...It's going to get worse?

Azel: Yes. Soon.

(...Gods can even tell when things will worsen.)

The moon has already more than half recovered its shape.

It won't be long until the full moon.

(The last riot was just a minor skirmish...)

(But if those continue, eventually they could escalate to the use of force.)

(Once the royal family uses force, the oppressed side won't be able to back down either.)

(I hope Tanzanite doesn't become a battlefield.)

The never-ending prophecy of the end sowed seeds of anxiety in my heart, and I could no longer taste the Zel tea.

Akatsuki: That's kind of you.

Azel: I told you, didn't I? Miss Emma has been good to me.

Azel: This warning is my thanks. However...

Azel: If a God says such ominous things, it will cause an uproar.

Azel: So please, keep this between us.

(If a large-scale riot breaks out...)

(I wonder if Azel will be alright.)

-

(...)

(.............)

(I can't sleep...)

Curled up on the edge of the bed, I open my eyes that I had been desperately closing, trying to sleep.

What came into view was not the ceiling of the night sky --- but Azel's mystical eyes.

(...!?)

Azel: Wha-

Azel seemed just as surprised as me, and jumped back with the force of a shooting star.

Azel: If you're awake, say you're awake! You're giving me a heart attack!

Emma: Wh-what were you doing?

Azel: Nothing! It's a misunderstanding!

(...If I'm not mistaken, it looked like he was peering at my sleeping face...)

When I stared at him intently, Azel, who for some reason had his hands raised to prove his innocence, turned away.

Azel: I wasn't doing anything bad.

Azel: It's just that... you were in my way, so I pushed you to the edge of the bed.

(He's right. I seem to have moved to the middle of the bed before I knew it.)

Come to think of it, I always try to sleep on the very edge so as not to disturb Azel, but when I wake up in the morning, I often find myself sleeping in the middle of the bed.

Emma: Sorry––

(...No, this is strange.)

(If Azel was the one pushing me to the edge, I shouldn't be waking up in the middle every time.)

Azel continued to avert his gaze unnaturally, not even trying to look at me.

Emma: ...Could it be the other way around?

Azel: No, it's not! Why would I go out of my way to move you to the middle? Don't be ridiculous!

Emma: It is the other way around, isn't it?

Azel: ......

(This ticklish, sweet feeling, how many times have I felt it now?)

Emma: Thank you for always doing that.

Perhaps realizing he couldn't keep up the pretense, Azel returned to the bed with a sulky look.

Azel: Let me tell you––

Emma: Are you going to charge me a transportation fee or a caring fee?

Azel: ...Yeah, that's right. I'll add it to your tab.

Picking up a book that was lying nearby, Azel lay on his stomach and began to read.

Perhaps it was a sign that he had nothing more to say.

I also put a little distance between us and lay down again, but my gaze was directed at him.

His profile as he faced the book was as handsome as a statue, and at first glance, he looked like a cold God.

But beneath the surface, Azel was always merciful.

He's a greedy, ill-natured God who works me like a slave, but I realize that I can't help but grin at the clumsy compassion he shows from time to time.

––And after grinning, my heart races too.

(I don't think I can sleep now, but for a different reason than before.)

As I continued to stare, Azel, with a frown between his brows, lightly pinched my cheek.

Azel: Go to sleep. Your staring is annoying.

Emma: ...Would you mind keeping me company with a story until I get sleepy?

Azel: No way.

Emma: There's something I want to ask out of curiosity.

Azel: I said no, didn't I?

Even though he said "no," he wasn't turning the pages of the book.

It was proof that he was listening to my voice.

(The Azel I know is merciful like this.)

(But then why...)

Emma: ...Why can't Gods love people?

Azel: Huh?

Emma: You know, you said it before.

Azel: Being liked is troublesome, and Gods don't love humans either.

Emma: You're not a misanthrope, are you, Prince Azel?

Emma: You're quite caring in your own way, you never refuse those who visit the temple, and you always smile in front of people...

Emma: In fact, you even seemed to love people.

Azel: ...So, that's the extent of Belle's perception, huh?

Azel: It makes me sick to my stomach to be misunderstood in such a disgusting way, so carve this into your flower-field brain.

Azel closed the book and needlessly squished and squeezed my cheeks.

Azel: I was a Living God from the moment I was born.

Azel: People looked to me for hope, and they sought prophecies from me.

Azel: From a baby who was still zero years old and didn't even understand anything.

Emma: From such a young age?

Azel: Yeah. My mother knelt before me, and my father fanatically worshipped me.

Azel: Naturally, I don't remember anything from when I was zero...

Azel: But according to my brother, they apparently forced me to perform divination using cards.

Azel: They would make the baby choose from prepared cards to determine the future—a binary divination, or rather, a game of chance that couldn't even be called divination.

Emma: That's just messed up.

Azel: Our people don't possess the same sensibilities as you.

Azel: They entrusted their lives, their country, everything to a baby.

Azel removed his hand and rested his chin in his hand.

Azel: Of course, as I got older, people's demands only increased.

Azel: People revere Gods because they show them a guaranteed reality.

Azel: To put it bluntly, it's convenient for them. They don't have to think for themselves about any difficult problems, right?

(...I had a vague understanding of this, but I can't agree that abandoning choices and entrusting judgment to a God is a good thing.)

(Because choices come with responsibility.)

I, as Belle, also chose the future king of Rhodolite.

If the king I chose implements bad policies in the future, I will be the one to answer for it.

(Azel has been asked to make and has shown far more critical choices than I have.)

(But when his divination fails, people will blame the God, just like in that riot.)

Emma: ...Have you ever felt like it was all too much?

Azel: Every day. That's why I rebelled once.

Azel: It was more my brothers' mischievous idea than my own will, though.

Azel: Enis and my other brother probably felt sorry for my situation back then, just like you.

Azel: One time, we ran away from the palace and hid here in this ruin.

Azel: Only in this place, away from the eyes of adults, did my brothers treat me like a little brother.

Azel: Being treated as a "human" felt surprisingly good...

Azel: We were supposed to return to the palace before being found, but because of that, I made a mistake in judgment.

Azel: It didn't take long for my father to find us using soldiers.

Azel: And...

Before I knew it, Azel was clenching his fists on top of the sheets.

Azel: Right in front of me, my brothers had their nails ripped off, were whipped, and were hung in a cold cell for three days and nights.

Emma: ...!

(...What is this...?)

(This isn't discipline, it's just torture.)

Azel: I was still a child then. I cried and screamed, unable to do anything, but my father wouldn't stop.

Azel: He tortured my brothers with a smile, saying it was all for the sake of God.

Azel: ...Ever since then, I haven't been able to stand the sight of blood.

Finding traces of pain in his dispassionate words, I placed my hand over Azel's.

I acted not out of reason, but out of emotion, hoping to distract him from the pain, even if just a little.

Emma: ...That's horrible.

Azel: But there was no one to stop my father.

Azel: Everyone believes without a doubt that it was the right thing to do because they love God.

Azel opened his fist without shaking off my hand.

Azel: Since then, Enis has been unable to defy our father and no longer sees me as his brother.

Azel: My other brother was the mastermind behind the escape plan, so he was exiled.

Azel: My claiming the title of Second Prince is like an act of defiance.

Azel: I deliberately maintain the position of First Prince to prevent that geezer from forgetting my anger.

(...So that's what it was.)

*flashback*

Azel: It's alright. The old man is secluded in the sanctuary today.

Azel: Even if we're a little out of line, there's no one to punish us.

Enis: ...Right.

*flashback over*

Emma: That father you're talking about, Prince Azel...

Emma: Is he the apostle?

As if to confirm, he squeezed my hand tightly.

Azel: You felt something was off about that geezer from the start, didn't you?

Azel: I was impressed by that. You saw through him as a madman in an instant.

(...The more I hear, the more Azel's environment seems like...)

Azel: People worship and revere me as a God. But that's just a convenient illusion.

Azel: The true identity of the last God on this continent...

Azel: Is just a pitiful slave.

All I could do was squeeze his hand back.

Azel: That's the answer to "why Gods don't love humans."

Azel: ...The people say they love the God.

Azel: They think they can do whatever they want with "love" as their excuse.

Azel: No matter how rational a person is, once they go mad with love, they can no longer live without it.

Azel: The way they fall into madness under the pretext of love is nothing but a curse.

(That sounds familiar somehow...)

A vague memory surfaced in my mind and seeped into my heart.

Azel: That's why I will never love anyone.

Azel: And don't you ever say such a repulsive thing again.

Emma: ...But...

Emma: The love you're talking about isn't love.

(At least, it's different from the love I know.)

(...This is the source of the dissonance I've been feeling.)

Emma: You can't call something that hurts you love.

Emma: That's just violence disguised as love.

When I declared this firmly, his mystical eyes wavered in the faint moonlight.

Azel: Then what is real love?

(Real love is...)

I've been searching for it too, and I still haven't found the answer.

But if we can call compassion a kind of "love," then I know many clear examples.

Emma: Wouldn't it be like this very moment, when you're indulging my sleepless chatter?

Azel: ...Huh?

Emma: Like when you cook for me when I'm tired...

Emma: Or when you frantically bring me a linen when I'm crying...

Emma: Or when you put me back in bed every day so I don't fall out...

Emma: I think that's what love is.

Azel: ......

Azel: So you're insulting me, then?

Emma: Why would you think that!?

Azel: What else am I supposed to think?

Azel: According to what you just said, it would mean I love you.

Emma: Ah...

(Come to think of it, those might have been rather conceited examples.)

(But that's all I could think of at the moment...!)

Azel: That was an insult worthy of increasing your debt by three digits.

Emma: ...! Th-they were just examples!

Azel, his face contorted like a demon mask, was blushing furiously, even in the dim light.

(...Seeing him so flustered...)

Even things that didn't have any deep meaning before are starting to gain meaning, and even I'm getting flustered.

After an awkward silence, Azel wrapped his arms around my head and pulled me towards his chest.

Azel: Go to sleep now. Go to sleep immediately. Go to sleep this instant.

Emma: I can't breathe! This isn't going to sleep, it's going to be fainting...!

When I resisted, his grip loosened.

However, he didn't seem to intend to let me go, as his hand snaked around my waist.

This was probably a measure to prevent me from seeing his face, but it only made my body hotter.

(This is exactly the kind of thing that makes people misunderstand...)

Azel: Listen, I'm going to make this clear now.

Azel: All those things I do are for money, and I haven't done a single thing for your sake.

Azel: If you ever say anything about love or whatever again, I'll curse you for generations to come.

(...This is troubling.)

Even though he was saying all those things, Azel's heartbeat told a different story.

Perhaps a God's heart beats faster than a normal person's, but the thump-thump-thump against my forehead was contagious.

(I won't point it out though, or he might actually make me faint.)

Though I didn't feel sleepy at all, I closed my eyes.

Whether unconscious or not, he gently patted my back.

Perhaps it was the God's compassion for me, after I said I couldn't sleep.

(...Being with Azel, I feel like I might find the answer too.)

(To what kind of love I'm yearning for...)

-

(Azel's POV)

Hearing her finally fall asleep, I slightly move my body away.

Unlike before, there's no sign of her waking up, and her unconsciously escaping breaths melt into the desert night.

Azel: ...It's nice that you can sleep so peacefully.

Azel: On the contrary, now I can't sleep.

Even when I complain, there's no reply. I sigh once more and pull the blanket closer.

After I carefully wrap it around her so my lodger won't be exposed to the night chill, she moves away, seemingly preferring the fluffiness of the blanket.

Seeing her hugging the blanket instead of the God, I frown.

Azel: I'm definitely warmer, aren't I?

I worry, hesitate, extend my hand, then retract it, repeating this over and over. After continuing this meaningless conflict, I pull her escaped body back into my arms.

Azel: ...Being with you makes me feel like I've become an idiot.

Azel: ...

Azel: But there's no such thing as a dream that lasts forever.

Azel: Just as the events here will eventually become a dream to you, they will also become a dream to me someday.

Azel: ...I've been through so much pain because of that worthless thing called love.

Azel: At the very least, I hope you can live without knowing that pain.

Azel: If you are loved by someone, that's the beginning of hell.

Like a God praying to a God—I lightly kiss Emma's forehead as she continues to sleep.

.

.

.

Chapter 20

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[chippedshake]

Marcia shouldn't be out on the East Side alone. She's heard more than enough horror stories from her classmates about girls who go too far out alone to know that it's a stupid decision. But every decision she's made since that Friday back in September has been stupid, so what's one more?

She's not entirely sure why she's going over to his house. He's made it clear that he isn't interested and this just makes her seem like a stalker who can't let go of some stupid flirting that happened nearly six months ago.

When she'd first asked Evie for his address, she'd thought she could surprise him a couple days later by showing up and taking him out. She wanted to wait until he called, though, so she could be sure he'd be home when she passed by. Then the son of a bitch hadn’t called her and months had gone by and she'd gotten pissed.

He'd made it abundantly clear he was into her back at the drive-in. If he wasn’t, why didn't he just reject her? Why make her go through the humiliation of months of waiting?

Now, as she draws her jacket closer around herself to feel a bit safer under all the gazes that follow her trail, she just wants an explanation. No one ever liked her before Two-Bit, not even Randy. They dated out of convenience and he hadn’t even bothered to say goodbye when he skipped town.

Marcia's always been everyone’s second choice, just Cherry's best friend, the other one. Until Two-Bit came along. He saw her with Cherry and seemed to really see her. Not a best friend or comic relief or a way to get into someone else's pants. And she let herself get her hopes up like an idiot, thinking that maybe someone who got her would finally like her too.

And then he didn't call her back.

Is there something wrong with her – something so fundamentally wrong that no one could ever really like her?

Oh, God, and now she's knocking on his door and has absolutely no game plan and he's standing in front of her – has he been always that cute? – and his eyes are wide with shock, and she really seems like a stalker, doesn't she?

"I– uh... hi." Marcia looks up at him sheepishly. The anger that’s been boiling in her chest for weeks now seems to have completely disappeared, crumbling into motes of dust that sweep away with the wind.

All she really wants to do now is hug him and bury her face in his chest and tell him all of the remarks she's suppressed during the past few months because once she got a taste of someone clicking with them, it wasn’t the same when they fell flat.

But he doesn't want to have anything to do with her. He couldn’t even bother to call. And this is stupid. This is really, very stupid. Why is she even here?

"Sorry, I– I shouldn’t be here, this is stupid, I'm stupid, I'll go now–" She can't meet his eyes as she turns back around, cheeks burning.

This is why no one likes you. It's not enough that you're weird and awkward and rough and just pretty, not beautiful. You don’t think things through and you're scatterbrained and you're so fucking stupid, it's a wonder Randy even put up with you for so long–

"Wait, Marcia!" Marcia's head jerks up to find Two-Bit jogging towards her. "I don't..." His hand comes up – to run through his hair, to touch her face – but stops midway "I don't think it was stupid. You comin' here. I also don't think you're stupid."

He's close to her. Close enough to see unshed tears she hasn't been able to suppress. Close enough to the see the bags under her eyes from worrying about what to do. Close enough for her to count his freckles, if she wanted to. Close enough for anyone walking by to easily misinterpret the scene they're seeing.

Neither of them step back.

"That’s just 'cause o' the aliens controllin' your mind. You ain't worn your aluminum hat today, right?" Her delivery's off and it doesn't land how she wants it to. It's hard for a joke to sound funny when you're holding back tears.

"I think the one thing me an' the aliens can agree on is that you're better'n most of this town gives you credit for."

It isn't the first time Two-Bit's complimented her, – he used far too many stupid pick-up lines that night they'd met, and about the first thing he'd said to her was that she was sharp – but it is the first time he's said it in earnest, not a hint of wit in his tone. She's almost too surprised to remember why she's there.

"The aliens tell ya not to call me, then?" The dust motes of anger are swept up by a gust of wind and concentrated again, building up to their former glory and crashing down in a final show of power. "Or was that all you?"

Two-Bit raises an eyebrow, trying to seem nonchalant. It's strange that she can read him well enough to notice the subtle surprise as easily as if it were written in bold across his forehead.

"That– that was your real number?"

Marcia makes a sound that's something between a bark of laughter and a scoff. "Of course it was my real number. What, you think I'd give you a phony?"

"Oh, like it was stupid to think you wouldn't give a grease like me your number."

"I wouldn't give my number to a grease like Da– that Shepard boy, but I'd say so to his face," Marcia snaps, and Two-Bit winces at her slip-up. "And I most certainly would give a 'grease like you' my number, because I liked you and I said I would, an' for all the stupid rumours you can hear 'bout me, there ain't a single one 'bout me not keepin' my word."

His smile is crooked and he's raised an eyebrow and Marcia knows she's in trouble in more ways than one before he even opens his mouth.

"Liked me? Not anymore, then. I guess you just came all the way 'round here to tell me how much you don’t care about me."

She cracks a grin of her own because maybe she should still be mad at him but how is she supposed to, when there's that gap between his teeth and that sparkle in his eyes and that tilt to his grin? "Yeah. Can't stand ya, actually."

"I reckon I could change that."

Marcia raises an eyebrow. "You do, do you?"

"How's seven this Saturday?"

"You gonna pick me up or am I gonna hafta walk all the way over here again?"

"You gonna give me your real number or am I gonna hafta go to school just to see you again?"

They're smiling so wide they must look insane to anyone passing by, but neither of them minds as Marcia scribbles her number down onto a piece of paper and gives it over to him.

"Don’t lose it this time."

[datvtranscripts]

The Enemy of My Enemy Pt. 1

Varric's Mirror

Signs and Portents Masterpost Previous: Stone Sense

Rook heads upstairs.

Rook: Guess I should find someplace to try to talk to Solas.

They pass by a hallways that was blacked off before.

Rook: Wait. That room wasn’t there before… I don’t think?

They enter a meditation with a couch that faces an aquarium tank. Their pack is sitting on the ground nearby.

Rook: Neve or Harding must've put my pack here. Makes sense. Better place to sleep than the infirmary. Guess I can spare a few moment to unpack my things.

Rook begins to unpack, and places Varric’s Mirror.

Rook: Varric and his life lessons. I asked him how we were supposed to stop Solas, and he gave me this. "Take a long hard look in it, kid. It'll always show the face of a hero who can get it done."

1 - Dialogue options:

Affable: I’m trying to live up to that. [2]

Sarcastic: I look good. [3]

Stoic: Enough reflection. [4]

Sad (Rook has no scars): Nice story, but that’s not me. [5]

(Gender identity options) (Establishes transgender identity and unlocks new dialogue options in future conversations) [6]

(Tattoo options) [7]

(Scar options) [8]

2 - Affable: I’m trying to live up to that. Rook: Varric tells such great stories. It's almost enough to make me think that this time, when I look in the mirror, I'll see a hero. (Sigh) But Varric's hurt, and the team needs me. So chin up, take a deep breath, and get the job done. Scene ends.

3 - Sarcastic: I look good. Rook: A damn good looking hero, if I do say so. Scene ends.

4 - Stoic: Enough reflection. Rook: If I'm the one who's got to get it done, I should stop admiring myself and get to work. Scene ends.

5 - Nice story, but that’s not me. Rook: I don't know if I see a hero's face, but it's a face that has seen a lot. Got a few new scars. Some that show up in a mirror, some that don't. But Varric believed in me then, and he believes in me now. I can do this. Scene ends.

5 - (Gender identity options)

I love who I am. Rook: There [he is/she is/they are]. The [man/woman/person] I knew I was. I did the work, I stuck with it, and now I get to see [him/her/them] every time I look in the mirror. Scene ends.

Feels good to see the real me. Rook: It took a while for me to figure out why the face staring back from the mirror felt wrong. But once I was able to be honest with myself, it was a relief to figure out I was trans. And it's worth it to look in the mirror today and see the [man/woman/person] I am staring back. Scene ends.

I’m getting there. Rook: I don't know, Varric. Catching my reflection still hits hard some days. But knowing who I am is worth it… and every day when I look in that mirror, I'm closer to seeing the [man/woman/person] I want to be staring back. Scene ends.

6 - (Tattoo options)

Tattoos helped me love myself. Rook: I used to dread looking into the mirror. Until I finally got tired of hating what I saw and decided to change what I saw. Now I look in the mirror and see the ink I chose for myself. The me I chose for myself. I don't know if that's the hero Varric was talking about, but it's a start. Scene ends.

My tattoos celebrate success. Rook: Every one of my tattoos is a story. Something I did that's worth remembering. Wonder what I should get when we finish this job. An eluvian? A wolf? I'll figure it out. Scene ends.

I thought hard about these. Rook: Spent so much time figuring out each tattoo. Getting the design right in my head, finding an artist who could make it work. Not to mention holding still the whole time to make sure they'd be perfect. But it was worth it. They're part of me now. The part I made for myself. Scene ends.

Elf: Tattoos matter to us elves. Rook: The vallaslin are sacred for the elves. I didn't grow up Dalish, but they're not the only ones who have a claim on being elven. My tattoos represent who I am, and I'll wear that for all the world to see. Scene ends.

7 - (Scar options)

My scars are badges of honor. Rook: You've got a few scars, but you know what? You earned these in fights that needed to be fought. Hits you took to save someone, shots that knocked you down but didn't keep you down. You are the hero who can get it done. And if you pick up a few more scars along the way, that just proves you were in the fight. Scene ends.

These scars are sexy! Rook: (Chuckle) Honestly, my scars look pretty good. They add character. And you should see the other guy. Scene ends.

Scars are lessons learned. Rook: Funny, Varric didn't mention that hero having so many scars. It's handy. You ever get too full of yourself, you can just look in the mirror, and see every mistake that left a mark. But it's not just about you anymore. Harding/Neve's got a new scar because you sent her into that ritual. So do better. Nobody else should have to wear your mistakes, hero. Scene ends.

Next: Faction Memento

[bookshelf-in-progress]

Daughter of the House of Dreams: A Fragment

Author's Note: This is the opening to a long-abandoned "Sleeping Beauty" retelling that I no longer plan to write, but I still like it as a piece of prose, and it sparked my enduring interest in second-person narration, so it feels relevant, and why should long-dead authors be the only ones who get to have their unfinished fragments published?

If you ever travel to Monetta City, be sure to visit Faraway Lane. Walk past the glittering new shops, and the shoppers in their bright silk dresses and top hats, and you'll find a cozy stone shop at the end of the street. This shop isn't grand and mighty like the other shops. It won't sniff and turn you away if your clothes aren't the latest fashion. It's a grandmotherly old shop that shakes its head at the prancing and preening of the younger shops, and invites you in instead. It holds no wares in its windows; it hardly has windows at all. But it has a warm and wide wooden door, with a shingle hanging above—Alessia Day, maker of dreams.

Don't ponder the sign's message too long—it means exactly what it says. Just slip inside, shut the door behind you, and look. Don't breathe too deeply, unless you want a week of crazy dreams, but allow yourself one gasp of astonishment. You won't be able to stop yourself. No living person has failed to feel awe toward the rows and rows of shelves, longer than streets and taller than palaces, filled to bursting with glass bottles in such bright colors that the dresses in the other shops' windows would weep in envy. Some bottles are the size of thumbnails. Most fit comfortably in the palm. Some are as large as breadboxes or steamer trunks or carriage horses, but the shelves manage to fit them all. And each bottle is filled to the brim with dreams.

If you don't understand, ask Alessia Day. You'll find her at a counter half a mile from the door, polishing bottles and humming a song you've heard but can't remember. She's an old woman now, and proud of it, but squint your eyes and start to daydream, and you'll see her as I remember her—a willow-wand girl with shining brown hair and eyes that sparkle with half-formed jokes.

Tell this girl how pretty she is (she'll laugh and call you crazy) and ask about her dreams. She'll tell you of her stock and sell you any dream you ask for—daydreams and pipe dreams, dreams of love, dreams of adventure, dreams of loved ones lost and loved ones found and people you've never met but wish you had. She'll show you dreams of lush and perfect islands, dreams where fishes fly through the air, and dreams where people swim the seas with fishes' tails. She'll pull down dreams that last a second but linger a lifetime, dreams that fill a month of stormy nights, dreams that fade on waking and dreams that drown out memories. If you let her, she'll talk of dreams until you drift off, and she'll bottle up your dream while you doze.

But if you're smart (I know you are) you'll step to the counter with a clear glass bottle, empty of everything but air, and ask for her story instead. She'd distill it in a dream for you, and be glad to do it—I once saw her whip it up in half a minute, and I'll bet she's even faster now. Buy the dream, but don't drink it right away. You won't be ready for it. Linger in the shop a while. Hear the story first from Alessia Day's lips, in that voice of hers that's sweeter than singing.

You won't believe half of it, but when you stagger from the shop and wander the empty, starlit streets, you'll ponder over passages until you stumble into bed at sunrise. And when you wake, the world will be different—you'll see tiny footprints on the windowsills, know things about the shadows on the walls, tip your hat to creatures in the corner of your eye, and realize there is another color no one else can see. You'll laugh and call it your imagination, but every second Tuesday, you'll start to wonder if the old woman was right, if the things she told you were true.

If you drink the dream she made, you'll know. I'll understand if you don't—some things are easier not to know. But if you do, and dream through her story, come to my house and ring the bell. My man will let you in—he'll know you by the wonder on your face. He'll bring you to my study, set you in my oldest, softest chair, and get us both settled with a steaming pot of tea. Then, once you've finished babbling, I'll close my eyes and tell you my part in the tale.

[wavypotatochips]

omg omg omg i love ur sergios work <33

can i make a request? its my first time requesting something so i dont know if im doing it right but maybe reader being jealous when sergio spends all of his free time with his bf instead of reader but just because sergio wanted to surprise her with like her dream travel so he’s been planning it with his bf? can u make it angsty in the beginning and fluffy towards the end please? thank u if u will accept this<333

𝐒𝐮𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐔𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 | 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐨 𝐑𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐬

GIF by sergio-para-siempre

𝘗𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴: Sergio Ramos x Female Reader

Word Count : 2.1k

𝘈𝘶𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘴 𝘕𝘰𝘵𝘦: My allergies have been terrible this week, and I've been sneezing so much that I've been getting headaches, so instead of writing 3-4 request , I was only able to write 2 this week c': hopefully my writing is still good c': ANYWAYSSSS Thank you so much for requesting!! I Hope you like how I represent your idea ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚!!

(っ◔◡◔)っ ♥ REQUESTS ARE OPEN, currently covered in college work so as of now uploads will mainly be on weekends. Thank you for your patience c’: ♥

You had been dating Sergio for almost two years now, and things had been going great until recently.

You've been feeling left out and ignored by your boyfriend, Sergio, for weeks now. He's been spending more time with his best friend, Marcos, than with you. Every time you try to make plans with him, he either cancels or tells you he's busy with Marcos. You can't help but feel jealous and wonder what's going on between them.

One day, you decide to confront Sergio about it. You call him on the phone and say, "Sergio, we need to talk. I feel like you've been avoiding me for weeks. What's going on?"

Sergio sighs and says, "I'm sorry, babe. I've been busy with futebol and hanging out with Marcos. He's been going through a tough time, and I want to be there for him." He hates having to lie to you right now, but he wants this surprise to be perfect for  you. His best friend, Marcos, has been assisting Sergio with organizing a week-long vacation surprise for you, which is why they have been hanging out a lot.

You feel your heart sink at his words. You understand that Marcos is going through a tough time, but it hurts to know that Sergio is spending more time with him than with you.

"Can't you make time for me too?" you ask, your voice quivering.

Sergio hesitates before replying, "I'll try, but I can't make any promises. Marcos needs me right now."

You hang up the phone feeling frustrated and hurt. You decide to give Sergio some space and see if he comes around.

Days turn into weeks, and Sergio continues to spend all his time with Marcos. You try to be patient and understanding, but it's hard not to feel jealous and neglected.

One evening as you check through your social media page, you come across a picture that Marcos shared of a boardwalk and crystal-clear water. In Marco's story, you can see that he appears to be in a tropical location, and in the bottom-right corner of the screen, you can see Sergio's tattooed arm. When Marcos posted the image, he must not have noticed Sergio's arm was there.

 Your heart sinks as you realize that Sergio has been keeping a secret from you.  You believe he's been planning a trip with Marcos, and you weren't invited. You assumed he was leaving for a Paris-Saint-Germain away match, NOT going out with Marcos once more.

Feeling hurt and angry, you call Sergio and demand an explanation. "Why didn't you tell me about the trip with Marcos? Why wasn't I invited?"

Sergio hesitates before saying, "I'm sorry, babe. Marcos and I have been planning this for months, and I didn't want to ruin it by telling you." Sergio believed that by speaking the flimsy truth, he would feel better. Of course, Sergio and Marcos have been preparing this vacation for months, but it is not for him and his best friend; it is for you and Sergio. They are at a resort so Sergio can check out the priciest water huts in person to ensure that it will be in top condition for you two.

You feel a lump form in your throat as you try to hold back tears. "So you're saying that Marcos is more important than me? That you'd rather spend time with him than me?"

Sergio's voice grows defensive as he says, "No, of course not. "

"What about me, then? Don't I deserve to feel special too?" you say, feeling your frustration boiling over.

Sergio sighs heavily, the line remains silent.

You shake your head and say, "I don't know, Sergio. I feel like you've been neglecting our relationship lately. I don't feel like a priority to you."

Sergio's voice grows softer as he says, "I'm sorry, babe. That's not it at all.. I promise all of this will make sense soon, okay?"

You feel your heart soften at his words, but you can't shake off the hurt and jealousy you've been feeling. "I don't know, Sergio. I just need some time to think."

Sergio sighs again and says, "Okay, I understand. I’ll be back home in two days, forreal this time. Then we can talk, ok?”

You say "mhm" in response and end the call without caring if it was petty or not. Of course you love your boyfriend, but lately he's been acting in ways that aren't quite to your taste. He generally clings to you and wants to be with you all the time, but during the past few weeks, you have only seen each other twice, which is very out of the ordinary.

Now, two days later, Sergio is finally back home. You're sitting on the couch, scrolling through your phone, when you hear the front door open. You look up to see Sergio walking into the room, looking tired but happy to see you.

"Hey," he says, walking over to give you a hug.

"Hey," you reply, hugging him back. "How was your trip?"

"It was good," he says, pulling away from you. "Marcos and I saw some really nice things."

You can't help but feel a pang of jealousy as he mentions Marcos, but you push it aside and try to focus on the conversation.

"That's good," you say. "I'm glad you had a good time."

Sergio looks at you for a moment, as if trying to read your expression. Finally, he speaks.

"Listen, I know we had a bit of an argument the other day," he says. "And I wanted to explain why I've been distant lately."

"Okay," you say, feeling your heart rate speed up a bit.

"It's not because I'm upset with you or anything like that," he says. "It's just that I've been planning something for us."

"Planning something?" you ask, feeling confused.

"Yeah," he says, sitting down next to you on the couch. "Marcos and I have been planning a week-long getaway for us."

"A getaway?" you repeat, feeling your eyes widen in surprise.

"Yeah," Sergio says, smiling. "I wanted to do something special for us, and Marcos has been helping me plan it."

You sit there for a moment, feeling a bit dumbfounded. You hadn't expected this at all. Knowing what he's been up to makes you feel terrible about how you've been treating him. You wish you could take those stinging accusations—along with the caustic attitude that accompanied them— when you practically said he didn't care about you anymore and you felt as though the love was no longer there. You know that you've probably hurt him, and you're filled with regret.

"I...I don't know what to say," you finally manage to say.

"I know we've been going through a rough patch lately because of how busy futebol has been," Sergio says. "And I wanted to do something to show you how much I love you and how much you mean to me."

You look over at him, feeling a lump form in your throat. Despite your earlier anger and frustration, you can't help but feel touched by his words. You're grateful that Sergio is forgiving and understanding. He knows that you're not perfect and that you make mistakes. He loves you despite your flaws, and that gives you hope that things will be okay.

"I...I don't know what to say," you say again, feeling a bit emotional. "That's...that's really sweet of you,” you can't help but feel a sense of joy bubbling up inside you. You had no idea that he was planning something so special for the two of you, and it's clear that he put a lot of thought and effort into making it happen. 

"I'm so sorry that I was acting bitchy towards you. Now everything does make sense," you say, giving him a small smile. "I can't believe you did all this for us."

Sergio grins back at you, looking pleased with himself. "I wanted to do something special for you, mi amor," he says. "Something that would remind us of why we fell in love in the first place."

You nod, feeling a warmth spreading through your chest. 

"So, where are we going?" you ask, feeling a bit of excitement building up inside you.

As he moves closer to you on the couch so you can see his phone screen as well, Sergio takes his phone out of his pocket.

"It's a surprise," he says, grinning at you. "But I'll give you a hint. It involves sun, sand, and lots of relaxation."

You raise your eyebrows, feeling your heart start to race. You still can't believe that Sergio has planned a trip for the two of you, and you can't wait to find out more.

As you watch, Sergio pulls up a page with pictures of a stunning beach resort, complete with crystal clear water, palm trees, and luxurious villas.

"Say hello to our little slice of paradise," he says, pointing to the screen. "We're going to be staying here for a week."

You stare at the pictures, feeling a sense of awe wash over you. "Sergio, this is incredible," you say, turning to him with a huge grin on your face. "I can't believe you did all this for me….. For us!"

Sergio grins back at you, looking pleased with himself. "I wanted to do something special for you, mi amor," he says. "And I wanted to remind you how much I love you."

You feel a warmth spreading through your chest, and you can't help but lean in to give him a kiss.

"I love you too, Sergio," you say, feeling a sense of happiness and contentment wash over you. "But do me a favor," you begin to say, drawing his full attention back to you, "If you ever ignore me again, I'm going to strangle you." He chuckles at your joke before swiftly embracing you and kissing you on the forehead, saying, "I'll never do it again, princess, I promise."

As the days pass, you and Sergio spend your time lounging on the beach, sipping cocktails, and exploring the island. You take long walks along the shore, hand in hand, watching the sun set over the water. You have deep, meaningful conversations about your hopes and dreams for the future, and you laugh and play like you haven't in ages. It's like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders, and you're able to relax and just enjoy each other's company without any distractions or stresses. As your week comes to a close, you and Sergio sit on your balcony, watching the stars twinkle overhead. You lean your head on his shoulder, feeling a sense of contentment and joy wash over you.

"Sergio, thank you for this week," you say, feeling a bit emotional. "It's been incredible." Sergio turns to look at you, his eyes soft. "I'm glad you enjoyed it, mi amor," he says. "I just wanted to remind you how much I love you, and how committed I am to making our relationship work." You nod, feeling a sense of gratitude and happiness. "You know, Sergio, I never doubted your love for me," you say, looking up at him. "But this week has shown me just how much you're willing to do for us. And it means the world to me." Sergio leans in and brushes his lips against yours, sending shivers down your spine. "I would do anything for you, mi amor," he says, his voice low and husky. "I want to spend the rest of my life making you happy." You feel tears prick at the corners of your eyes, overwhelmed with emotion. You know that things won't always be easy between the two of you, but this moment feels like a turning point. Like you can get through anything as long as you have each other.

As you lean into Sergio's embrace, you feel a sense of peace and contentment wash over you. You know that this week has been just the beginning of a lifetime of love, adventure, and happiness together.

"I love you, Sergio," you say, looking up at him with a soft smile.

"I love you too, mi amor," he says, his eyes sparkling with warmth and affection. "Thank you for giving me the chance to show you just how much."

You snuggle into his arms, feeling a sense of happiness and hope for the future. You know that there will be challenges along the way, but with Sergio by your side, you feel like you can conquer anything.

As the night wears on, you and Sergio talk and laugh, sharing stories and dreams for the future. And as you fall asleep in each other's arms, you know that this week will be one that you'll never forget. A week of love, laughter, and adventure. A week that brought you closer together than ever before.

[greatbritishsimchallenge]

"Cassian! I have amazing news!" beamed Elizabeth.

"Is that so, my love? Pray tell!"

"I'm pregnant!"

Cassian hugged Elizabeth and began to rub his hands over her bump, "How far along are you? This is... a sizeable bump."

"I don't know much about these things, sweetie. Must have been from one of our spirited love-making sessions a while back and it's just taken me a minute to realise."

"But we didn't make love in a manner that could bear children until quite recently?" asked Cassian, confused.

"What are you talking about?" laughed Elizabeth, "We've been at it since long before our wedding day! It's honestly a wonder this hasn't happened already."

"No, but -" Cassian tried to interrupt, but Elizabeth quickly covered him in kisses.

"Oh, you are going to be such a wonderful father, I can't wait! I must dash, sweetheart, I have a riding lesson booked and you know how fussy the squires get if you're late. Honestly, you'd think the mood of the horse was more important than my own!"

Before Cassian could challenge her further, Elizabeth had left.

Cassian sought out Henry to ask his thoughts.

"Perhaps she is right, father. Perhaps you just forgot one of your particular episodes with her? You have been rather active, after all."

"Maybe I am just becoming forgetful in my old age..." Cassian replied, unconvinced. "I'll try talking to her again when she returns from riding."

Hearing that Elizabeth was out riding, Henry quickly shifted tact.

"Although," he added cautiously, "If you are that concerned, I wouldn't wait. Perhaps she didn't feel able to speak openly in the castle - the walls have too many ears. Perhaps in the privacy of the woods she might feel able to be more honest?"

Cassian nodded sombrely, "I suppose... I'll go talk to her. I'm probably wrong, but... something just feels off."

"Better to be sure with these things," Henry agreed. As he watched his father leave, Henry felt a cautious happiness build within him.

Story continues under the cut (NSFW: sex, murder, domestic violence against women)

It took Cassian some time to find Elizabeth. Eventually it was the noise that drew him to her; at first it sounded like the intense rustling of animals fighting, then the noises became distinctly more human and sounded like moaning and groaning. Concerned she might be hurt, Cassian rushed towards the sound and halted to an abrupt stop when he was able to see the source of noise.

Cassian watched Elizabeth rolling around in the grass with her lover, his rage building as she failed to notice that she was being watched. As he watched, he thought of all the times she was with him. With him, sex with her suddenly seemed like an amateur dramatic performance filled with over-the-top cries of pleasure and performative declarations of love. Seeing her with this man, Cassian could see how real and genuine her pleasure was - and that only infuriated him more.

"Elizabeth!"

"Cassian!" Elizabeth pushed the man away from her and lept up, looking frantically around as if for some reasoning she could give to what Cassian had seen. "I... umm... thank goodness you're here! That man attacked me!"

Cassian looked the petrified, naked man once over and saw the way he looked at Elizabeth with eyes filled with hurt and betrayal.

"You're lying. I watched you two together and you were wanting every fucking second," Cassian snarled, before adding to the man, "Get out of here." The man grabbed his clothes and rushed to his horse, galloping off without looking back.

Cassian stepped menacingly towards Elizabeth.

"That baby is not mine, is it?"

"Cassian, darling, of course it is. This was a one time mistake, I -"

"Stop lying to me!" Cassian yelled, grabbing Elizabeth by the throat. "How long have you been lying to me? Did you ever even love me? Or have you just been using me all of this time? You were going to pass another man's child off as mine? You made me think you loved me! How could you do this to me, you evil whore!"

In his rage, Cassian failed to recognise how tightly he gripped Elizabeth's neck, nor how her flails were growing weaker. It was only when her eyes closed and her arms dropped to her sides that he released her. Her dead body fell in a crumple to the floor.

The moment her body fell, all of Cassian's rage left his body and was immediately replaced with sadness.

"What have I done? What have I done? What have I done?" I repeated over and over to himself.

Start (Iron Age) | Start (Roman Britain) | Start (Anglo Saxon) | Start (Medieval) | Start (Tudor)

Previous | Next

[random-vore-blog]

HELLO- I’ve read every. Single. Story. Aaaandi was wondering if you could mayyybe make genya x y/n one- I dunno, maybe it’s because I fangirl over him.

Sure!

It was cold... very cold. The wind, the night, the forest- it was all but warm. If Rengoku were still alive, you'd be warm from his cape. But... he wasn't alive anymore, was he?

The person you looked up to... he was gone. He wasn't coming back. Never. He was gone, somewhere up there, where the other previous Hashiras were. Maybe some of your family were up there, watching you with proud eyes...

Either you grew tired or it was too cold to move through the snow was still a mystery to solve for later, as you had fallen to your knees, hugging your chest.

Not that it helped much... not when you fell face first in the snow. Your skin was so, so, so so numb. You couldn't feel your face. Your vision blurred, but you swore that you saw a blur in purple and dark grey run towards you.

You knew that you couldn't keep your eyes open for much longer from the cold. But you did not expect to keep them open for this long.

" Gengen?"

You recognized the face that stared at yoi in worry. It was your friend's brother: Genya Shinaguzawa. If Sanemi found out that you were dead when Genya found you, he would be pissed more than usual.

Especially when you consider the bond you had with the Wind Pillar. An... interesting one at that. Not that the other Pillars needed to know his strange way of protecting you.

" Y/n! You are so cold! Cold as ice!"

He panicked, and you had no energy left to panic or move. He grabbed your head and put it on his lap. He had to turn you on your back so that you could face him properly.

" You are going to die if you keep on putting your life in danger like this!"

Despite his scolding, you knew Sanemi would have said the EXACT same words that left Genya's mouth- wait a damn minute.

" Why are your eyes like a demon's? And why do you have sharp canines?"

" ..."

He kept quiet, your eyelids growing heavier as time went on. You swore you saw blackspots dance in your vision and the world become blurry.

" I'll explain everything... just- just stay with me- Y/N!"

You felt yourself slip from consciousness to unconsciousness. A quick switch as if it were from day to night.

---

He panicked. He panicked badly. Not only did his brother's friend fall unconscious, but also the person that he wanted to call sister.

He didn't know what to do... He had killed the demon already after eating some of its flesh and used its bda to kill it.

But... looking at your cold unconscious form, he had no choice but to take you in. Physically. Consuming you...

He shivered at the nere thought of swallowing you whole. He just hoped that the demon's bda came in handy now.

He gently brought your head closer to his jaws, sweat dripping and freezing as he grew all the more nervous.

Slowly, his jaws opened right above your head, saliva a mysterious green colour and tongue glowing a dim pink.

He nrought your head into his mouth, and he didn't feel like it stretched over your head. Maybe it was because you got "smaller the more you entered.

It was like you stayed the same size but not at the same time. It was weird. A weird but useful bda to get you out of the cold.

He shivered before swallowing, the same weird feeling happening. Was it because of the green saliva that dripped on his pants and the weird dim pink glow that illuminated your clothes?

He wasn't sure. He was really not sure. Uncertainty crawled on the back of his mind the more he realuzed what was going on.

Questions came in millions, yet, there were no answers. Like- how was he able to swallow his sister-figure whole without stretching or dislocating his jaw?

He kept swallowing until the rest of you slipped into his stomach. Surprisingly, there was no proof that he had eaten you.

No bulge or dent or anything. That must've been the pros about the demon's bda. Not being able to tell whether there was a victim or not in its gut.

He shivered and stood up. He felt full for sure. That was the only proof that he had eaten you.

" This... this is embarrassing..."

He put a hand in front of his mouth, ears flustered and tinted red. He just did what his aniki did. Just... he wasn't used to it.

" Please don't let aniki get mad at me."

He prayed to whatever god was there, watching and listening to him.

Hope you enjoyed!

[alchemist-of-thebes]

KH OC Week Day 1

Hello! How fun that KH OC Week is finally here! Actually, even though I've known about it since it started, I've never actually taken part in it. But I'm trying it! I'm trying so hard! I've been writing for a very long time, but only started dabbling in KH-related stuff because of @hinataoc. My characters were really originally mostly made to help support her characters and her stories, but the ol' writing bug would bite me every here and there and eventually I started writing little stories and adventures of my own for them. I've got a few now, but this week I think I'll just focus on the two OCs that started this journey for me. So... uh, here we go.

Day 1: Introductions

◾Tell us about your OC!

To start off my first OC Week, I’d like to introduce two of my characters - Velcia and Velcia! …Wait, what?

Yes, I’m afraid that it may seem a bit confusing at first. Both characters share the same name and very similar appearances, but they are in fact very different people! So let me introduce them both and tell you a bit about each one.

First, credit to the amazing @amyhayanora for the wonderful art of these two for me! She did such a good job of bringing them to life.

Now, to get started! On the left we have the first “Velcia”, who lived in Daybreak Town as a Keyblade Wielder up until the Keyblade War.

KHx-Era Velcia:

Her true name is “Valencia Florere”, but when she arrived in Daybreak Town all alone at the age of 3 years old she was unable to pronounce her own name properly. Nobody in Daybreak Town could have known otherwise, and so her mispronunciation “Velcia” was how she was known. For just this one introduction, I’ll use her ‘real name’, though don’t expect her to recognize it!!

As a toddler, Valencia was rescued from the Lanes Between Worlds by The Master of Masters, who did not deem fit to provide to anyone else an explanation of how she ended up there. Not having the faculty to raise a babbling baby, The Master of Masters created a digital data world modeled after Enchanted Dominion. This snippet of a world was completely devoid of danger, and it was here that Valencia was raised alongside a digital Aurora by the Good Fairies.

Pleasant and peaceful though it was, being raised by digital facsimiles of real people does tend to leave one a little odd, and by time Valencia was old enough to leave this fictional nursery she was quite an odd girl indeed.

Shy, awkward, and almost entirely lacking in social skills, Valencia was nonetheless an aspiring artist who quickly honed her craft as she worked to document as many Wielders and events in Daybreak Town as she could as a sort of reclusive self-styled historian. Her fingers and hands usually have pencil smears on the sides from all her drawing. She does wipe them off constantly, but she’s also drawing constantly so it’s a bit of a self-defeating endeavor.

She doesn’t try to be annoying or obnoxious but has a vague sense that there are things that she does that bother other people that she can’t really seem to change. This leaves her with a bit of a lack of confidence, but she’s always so eager to learn more and add more things to her books she pushes past her awkwardness anyway. 

Poor Valencia is terrible at fighting and quite a pushover, who did her best to stick to the periphery and hope nobody would notice her working quickly to sketch them into one of her many books. It wasn’t until she finally met a young man named Balthazar that she was really able to find a stable friend and companion. 

Valencia found she had a strong affinity for the World of Olympus, dearly loving everything about it. Of all the Projected Worlds, Olympus was where she spent the most time and as soon as she was able she bought a set of Olympian Robes from the Moogle in Daybreak Town; but stuck to wearing her more familiar boots, pants, and other various accessories. She didn’t know what her true homeworld was supposed to be, but she hoped beyond hope it could be Olympus.

The events leading up to the Keyblade War were nearly as devastating to Valencia as the War itself, and during the war she was struck with what should have been a fatal blow and left for dead - but a very odd thing happened. An unusual Heartless appeared on the battlefield and whisked her away from the chaos, bringing her to Olympus and healing her before ultimately being destroyed.

Now living on the world of her dreams, Valencia eventually managed to put the traumas of her past behind her and start a family. Her now-powerless Keyblade and the name “Velcia” were both passed down through the generations, and each time one “Velcia” passed away the next-born daughter received the name and the heirloom Keyblade, and after some time that brings us to…

KHII-Era Velcia

Velcia Anthes, daughter of Hephestus and Ioanna Anthes, was raised in Thebes as a Potion-Maker and Alchemist by her father after her mother mysteriously vanished when she was two years old. Named after her Keyblade-Wielding Ancestor from her mother’s side, Velcia received the Heirloom Keyblade and grew up hearing stories of wielders from her grandmother and marveling at the tales.

Coming from a family of scholars on her father’s side, Velcia is keenly interested in learning everything she can about the fundamentals of both magic and potion-making; and her devotion to learning magic hit an all-time high after her father and cousin were killed by Vanitas during the events of KH:BBS. 

After this, she was taken in by her aunt and uncle who helped her to stay strong and focus on her studies as they worked together to overcome the pain of losing their loved ones. Thanks in no small part to their support and the integrity of her father, Velcia is kind, graceful, and has every bit of the elegance that her KHx-era ancestor lacked; but most of all she is driven and determined to help anybody she can, especially if it means they can avoid the sorts of losses she dealt with growing up.

Thanks to time spent participating in events at the Coliseum when she was younger, Velcia combined her effective if rudimentary physical fighting skills with her growing array of spells to become a competent red mage who was very confident in her magic abilities. In her mid-twenties during the events of KHII, Velcia thought that her life as a potion-maker was perhaps all she would ever be.

One fateful day she meets a visitor from another world named Samantha, and almost the next thing Velcia realizes she’s being asked to come use her magical powers and knowledge to help Sam and Hinata chase down a dangerous Replica called Thaanix. This, it turns out, is only the start of her adventures…

--------

That’s about it for my introductions! I will include answers for both Velcias going forward for the rest of the week, but will likely have more information and pictures posted for the Modern-Era Velcia as I have more stories and art for her. Truth be told, the picture above is really the only proper picture of KHx-Era Velcia I have! Thank you for reading these little bits about my characters, I really hope you’ve enjoyed them.

Anyone who would like to read any of the stories I've written can find them either on my AO3, or on @hinataoc's Fanfiction.net page (which also has a plethora of other very good stories by her that you should check out). Archive of our Own Fanfiction.net

In addition, I have been in the middle of posting a new story about the Modern-Era Velcia called "Return to Eos", with a new chapter posted every weekend. I'm trying to post a little snippet of the chapters here on Tumblr as they go up, so if you are interested you can keep an eye out for those, too. Lastly, thanks very much to the @khoc-week crew (small as it may be this year) for hosting this event. :D

[vizthedatum]

cw: a huge vent

Yeah, I woke up early, felt ok physically (was slightly flaring yesterday but I had a really nice time with my gf and it really made up for all of it haha), and then went down memory lane and started crying.

Then, I ate ice cream for breakfast.

Facepalm.

Today, I'm supposed to start a whole new regimen of supplements and meds (I'm still not on as many prescription meds as I've typically been, and I'd like to see how much I can keep it that way). I have my medication pill organizer all organized! I've written out notes and schedules for myself: morning, afternoon, evening, emergencies, morning routine, nighttime routine, grocery lists, etc.

*cries*

I know I will adhere to this - I am trying to give myself so many chances to succeed in life - I WANT TO LIVE FOR MYSELF.

--

I feel so stupid for falling in love with the people of my past.

I feel so stupid for making so many mistakes.

Every day I wonder if I'm just a bad person.

I still apologize for a lot of my unmasked traits.

I am still regretting my poor behavior with a lot of people.

Was I a lousy spouse? Was I a bad child? Am I the actual abuser in all of this?!

What could I have done to make it better??????????

Should I have just stayed quiet - ignored things until I vanished?

--

Sometimes, I wonder if I actually did kill Pri (dead-nickname and the name I used to go by) - what if I killed her so that she didn't have to live through the complex web of lies that she had created for herself?

I GAVE ALL OF THEM SO MUCH BENEFIT OF THE DOUBT.

I know that I've just recycled parts of her instead - recycled her into who she wanted to be: me.

I'm not plural, but having had PTSD and undiagnosed autism and ADHD for so long... it feels so jarring to be more authentic.

It's so jarring to heal.

--

And what about everyone that Pri loved???

I've often said in this blog that I've been reevaluating everyone Pri loved. I told my therapist last week that I don't regret cutting all the friendships/relationships off from the last year EXCEPT FOR ONE. (Edit: in the end, I have to admit - that situationship or whatever wasn’t really respectful to me - and while I enjoyed aspects, it was a joke of what I truly deserve)

I was so fucking caught up in my trauma that I just couldn't handle it - and I hurt someone I really cared about. I keep telling myself that they didn't even really care about me - but I'm sure they did, at least as a friend or a person in their life.

That relationship made me question a lot, but I was already questioning many things.

That relationship made me realize how poorly I valued myself and how badly I misjudged the toxic way I was attracted to other people.

That relationship wasn't what made me leave my ex-spouse, even if we had arguments about it.

My ex-spouse is why I left my ex-spouse.

The more I live by myself and reconnect with my hobbies, spirituality, friends, healthy depictions of love, etc. - the more I realize how UNSAFE I was.

I still weep at pictures of myself from 2019-2022.... how could someone who claimed to love me let me be in such disarray?

How could I have married someone in the midst of chaos, arguments, debates that were clearly meant to defeat me every time, psychological violence, etc.?!

Why didn't I just BREAK UP WITH THEM AND KICK THEM OUT YEARS AGO - instead of having the stupidest marriage where I was the only active participant, living in a dangerous and toxic environment, and being in financial devastation?

I am still recovering from the financial blow I took when I left them in 2022. Before I left, I barely had any credit card debt (I did have a lot of student loans but that is a whole other story - plus I had qualified for loan forgiveness before that was nixed by our government), my credit score was amazing, and I was going to try to recover from burnout (I AM STILL IN BURNOUT)....

I have no idea when I'll be able to really recover - I am trying to figure it all out, and of course, I have a plan (I must - I keep having to be forced into it - and I fucking like having a comfortable life)... but I wonder, when will be the day when I can't just do it anymore?

When will I be unable to "hack" life?

Will I relapse into my codependency and end up with immature partners who expect me to push through my autism and various other disabilities to the point of me completely falling apart while they yell at me about how ungrateful, selfish, and insecure I am?

Will I just be perpetually used as a sex object until people think I'm too ugly and too annoying to be used any further?

--

I have had to heal from who I was to figure all of these questions out. I wasn't in great long-term relationships before this one, and there were reasons for it.

I am investigating the why - I am trying to feel the emotions - I am trying to confront my own "shadows" - I am trying so hard.

I am also just trying to live life every day.

I am trying to do better on so many fronts now.

[armpirate]

UNDER HIS SKIN || JJK || Ch. 16

Pairings: tattoist!jk x fem!reader

Genre: smut, angst, friends to lovers, tattoo au, virgin reader.

Summary: They say there are two versions for every story, and it's important to hear both of them. Everybody is hearing your side of the story, but it's just fair to get to know his.

After breaking up with his girlfriend, the only thing he wanted was to have fun with no attachment. You wanted to get rid of your virginity, and he wanted to tick you off his list. What he didn't expect was getting so emotionally attached to you that he would regret the deal.

Warnings: mutual masturbation, fingering, handjob, dirty talk

Previous || Next

MASTERLIST

I don't know at what moment we grew closer to each other, but it just happened. But texts and calls were more usual at some point. Actually, it was weird if we went a day without texting each other. Thinking of it right now... I don't think we've gone a day without talking to each other at all.

Just yesterday we were hanging out at her house because I had no customers and she wasn't going to work yet. With no deep reason at all, nothing related to the deal. We just hung out and spent some time together.

She frowns when she isn't able to tell who's the person calling her while we both were trying to guess who was the murderer in that episode. I mute the whole thing, just so she's able to speak and understand everything the other person is saying, when I realize the call might last longer than just a few seconds.

Y/n first frowns, but soon her face lights up and she literally jumps over the couch to get something to write on.

—Thank you so much —I hear her say excitedly, while her back is turned at me—. Thank you so much! —she repeats— I'll see you tomorrow.

She jumps excited in that spot, her oversized t-shirt bouncing with every move, until she turns to me again with a wide smile.

—What was it? —I ask when she doesn't say a word.

—Hmm —she walks back to the couch—. You might be talking to the future designer in JP Motors.

I remember how excited she looked when she first received the call, and how soon all that excitement turned into anxiety and nervousness because she thought she wouldn't be able to pass the interview.

And probably that's why I couldn't help but think about it all morning. The client I'm tattooing hasn't spoke a single word in the four hours I've been tattooing his leg, which makes me wonder if he had fallen asleep. When I peek, trying to see a glimpse of his face, he caught me on the spot.

—Is everything okay? —I rush to ask, trying to hide the fact that I was indeed looking at him out of curiosity.

The man plays with his long beard, nodding. His rough expression doesn't really tell me much. There's no pain, no suffering. So I guess everything is indeed okay.

Before I go back to the tattoo, I look at the digital clock hanging over the mirror in my room. Y/n must be in that interview already...

—Give me one second.

Again, the man doesn't say anything, he just nods and lets me go. Rolling on the chair a few meters away, I stand up and turn to my phone placed on the desk I usually work at when Y/n isn't around. I know it's too early to ask, but I ask her how the interview went, after I send her a "Good luck" sticker -there's only a few seconds of difference between each message, but meh.

Going back to work, I give the tattoo the final details before it's finally done.

—What do you think? —I ask, when he stands up and looks at himself in the mirror.

Puckering his lips, that are barely visible over his thick red beard, he finally nods and raises his thumb. No word again.

I invite him to lead me outside so he can pay for the service, but my phone shakes in my hand when I'm about to cross the door. I see Y/n has replied to my text after thirty minutes, so probably she's done with her interview already.

As soon as I see Mark resting on the counter, I encourage the client to get to him since he'll be the one in charge of the transaction.

—Cool —he finally says.

I'd be freaking out by hearing his voice for the first time in five hours, but I'm too focused on the phone that it seems it might melt if I don't read her text as soon as possible. Carefully, I close the door to my room and rest my body back on the chair I've been sitting on for five hours.

Cocktease: Seems like I'll be serving drinks a little longer

Me: Their loss

Cocktease: Thats what losers say to comfort themselves

Me: I was just tryna be nice 🥺

And while it's true, I don't want her to overthink what happened. Sometimes, some opportunities just aren't for you, and it doesn't mean you're bad or anything. It just means that wasn't the chance you should take.

Cocktease: What is Mr. Nice doing?

Although that text makes me smile, I know it wasn't because of it, but everything that's behind it. Her cocky attitude and ironic smile while she was typing those words after I made the last comment.

She asks, and I do. I send her a picture of where I am, but of course that isn't enough for me. Because right after I send the pic, I open my contacts list -although I don't need to look too much because her name is at the top of the list, on the "Favorite contacts" list, in between my sister and Tae.

—I've been tattooing a cobra for almost five hours —I comment as soon as she picks up.

—Cobra as in the tattoo or a body part?

—Oh... Oh —I lower my voice when I understand the meaning of her words—. Dirty mind, I see. There's no better way to cope with rejection.

When I turn to look at myself in the mirror, I find my reflection with a stupid smile that makes me cringe as soon as I'm aware, and that suddenly disappears.

—You know what's better to cope with rejection? Not being reminded you were rejected —she sighs—. But thank you for trying.

Looking away from my reflection after I hear her say that, I feel bad for her. She seemed so excited yesterday when she got the call, just to be rejected the next day.

—So... are you done? —she asks out of nowhere— I mean, do you have more customers?

We haven't known each other for too long, but by the tone in her voice, I know she doesn't really care. And I understand that, she's just trying to divert the topic from something that hurt her, and I don't doubt to play along.

—Not until four —I groan, as I feel the muscles on my back stretch as I sit properly—. I think I'll go to the gym, grab something for lunch and come back. Mark is here anyway. What about you?

—I'll prepare lunch and get ready for work.

—I thought you were on your off day.

—I wish —she laughs—. Still three days left for my weekend. But it's alright, I could be doing worse.

I'm about to cheer her up, but she cuts me up before I'm able to speak. Y/n lets me know she needs to hang up, and before I can even say goodbye, I hear that annoying piping on the line.

✸ ✸ ✸

I get off work quite early, and my plan is going directly back home. No stops anywhere. Just head straight back home. But something makes me shift my plans. I sit on my motorbike, one foot on the pedal and the other finding balance on the pavement, when I remember the sound of her voice earlier today. For the past twenty minutes I was able to get rid of her, but now that I'm alone again, I go back to thinking too much about it -just like I've been doing all day since I called her.

Fuck, I shouldn't have called her.

I try to think how I can comfort her. And my mind is only able to think about sugar. It's what cheers me up when I'm off, so maybe it'd help her, too.

A quick stop at one of those gummy shops, and I have a plastic bag filled with any type of sweets. At first, I think of picking her up at work, like I've already done a few times, but I remember that Tam might be there tonight, and it'd be weird if I show up there for no reason at all -other than seeing Y/n.

So I make my way to her house, and decide to wait for her there -which is another bad idea, since she won't get there until she's done with work, and that could end up with me waiting for her for three hours.

But I don't really mind it.

I get to her floor, after I made my way inside thanks to one of her neighbors coming out as soon as I arrived, and just sit on the stairs next to her door. It's my time to level up on the games I've left aside for weeks -or months.

I have no idea how long I'm playing, sitting there. And I've lost count of all the times I looked to the other side of the stairs, excited every time I heard footsteps somewhere. Until one of those footsteps is indeed hers.

Y/n is looking down, dragging her feet over the last step of the stairs, with a tired expression letting me know she's had a rough day. Although it disappears as soon as she looks up and finds me. Her lips pucker, and her head is slightly tilted as she tries to question why I'm standing in front of her door.

—You sounded off on the phone this morning —I start explaining before she can even ask—. So I bought some sweets —I raise the plastic bag filled with striking coloured candy—, and drove here.

Something in the way she looks at me shifts when I say all that. Her eyes soften to my comment, and a tiny smile appears on her face -something that would be impossible to notice for someone that doesn't know her.

After I come in, I close the door behind me and just follow her around, although she disappears shortly after to get changed. I set everything, moving the table a bit forward so I can sit on the floor, and use the couch as a backrest.

When Y/n joins me, she sits on my right.

—There was this movie announced the other day —I bring it up, when I think she's about to speak about that damned interview—. Let's watch it.

Truth is, I did see it announced the other way as I was zipping through channels, trying to find something nice to watch. The topic of the movie aligns with what we have going on, and it's a nice movie that will help her think about something else.

—Have you come over to do a teaching class?

She jokes, and I'm completely aware that she's looking at me with one of those killing smiles.

I shush her, avoiding making any type of eye contact with her, while my eyes are fixed on the TV in front of us.

Although I've tried my best to keep the focus on the screen, because I came here just to cheer her up, I can't help but turn my face to her a few times. The move of her lips as she chews on the gummy bear, how she traces her lower lip with her tongue when she's done... All of her is driving me insane. So when she picks up the gummy bear with her left hand, I move faster and hold her wrist between my fingers, redirecting her digits to my teeth so I can take the gummy bear away from her.

—I've only eaten two of...

I don't let her say anything else, because my lips collide against her before she's able to say anything else, moving the gummy bear from my mouth to hers as we kiss. She lowly gasps, and the way she sucks on my lower lip when I break the kiss just screams how she doesn't give zero fucks about the movie and just wants the kiss to keep going.

I go back to my place, thinking that a kiss would be enough for me. Oh, but how wrong I was... The taste of her spit mixed with the pineapple taste of the gummy bear was way too good to be able to think about anything else.

But she's able to make me think about something else when we reach the part of the movie where Gerard Butler confesses why he doesn't do relationships, and I feel her eyes falling on me instantly -even if that wasn't her intention.

—You want to know, don't you? —I turn to her with a funny smile, although deep inside I'm praying she doesn't make me talk about it.

—No —she frowns, and shakes her head—. But... if you feel like sharing.

And that's a yes.

I chuckle, finding her cute although I'm going to open up about something that fucked me up for months. I turn to her, knowing damn well this will be the most vulnerable I'll feel with a woman that isn't my sister.

—It was just one.

Leslie.

I tilt my head as her voice starts sounding real, as if she were begging for me to forgive her right now, while she started picking her things up from our shared apartment. I try to sum up everything that happened in a matter of ten minutes, and later two rough days, into a short sentence that won't last even a second.

—And she cheated on me. I loved her more than she loved me. Simple as that. After five years of dating, instead of breaking up with me, she started seeing one of my customers. She only said she didn't want to hurt me, but she wasn't feeling the same way. Living together, working together... It wore her out.

Sometimes I wonder if I was too oppressive, if I lost her because I didn't give her enough space and that's why she felt the need to find that space somewhere else. If everything that happened in those five years, and our routine, was the only thing at fault for the distance that grew in between us and that led her to mess with some other guy.

When I look up, I see Y/n totally lost in her own thoughts. Eyebrows frowned, and lips forming a thin line, as she probably tries to find some sense in what happened.

—Chill, cocktease. Last time I saw that look, you threw a shoe at my head —I click my tongue—. And it's not like you have any reasons to be looking this way.

—I'm just annoyed. That's it —she shrugs—. I can't stand lies, and I always get worked up when something similar happens in movies or shows.

I guessed so.

—You look cute when you're annoyed —I move my thumb across the frowned space between her eyebrows, trying to make those wrinkles disappear.

—Huh, so that's why you always try to piss me off.

I think... But I'm not actually thinking about what she's just said. I'm thinking about how close we are right now, and how tempting her lips are looking right now.

Fuck it.

I lean a bit more, enough for my lips to cover hers again gently, although she doesn't seem to want to go slow by the way she pulls me by the neck and hides her fingers in between my locks, giving me goosebumps that run all over my spine.

The kiss is sloppy and messy, but she tastes so good, she feels so good I can't stop right now. I only break the kiss to talk to her, and make her the question we both want to hear at this exact moment. I can tell she's afraid of what i'm about to say when I break the kiss, but her looks change as soon as I speak.

—Can we go to your room? —I ask with a raspy voice.

I want it to happen, I want to do everything to her right now. But, at the same time, I'm scared she isn't sure and might regret what happens. And that sensation seems to grow bigger when we are both standing in front of her bed.

Those lips and tongue on my neck feel like a hot iron tracing my skin. I'm trying hard to control myself when one of her hands goes from my shoulders -where she was supporting herself on, as she stood on her tiptoes- to my pants to unzip them. I help her, bending to take my pants off, and my sweatshirt shortly after.

Her tongue traces her lower lip as her eyes disseminate my body, and I can't wait to look at her the same way.

I step closer to her, able to kiss her cheek and jaw softly, as I get rid of her comfy shirt. And no one's skin has looked so bright and delicate as hers. I trace her collarbone, moving my digit down her chest -in between those covered tits I'm desperate to suck on-, and going lower to her pants after controlling myself like I've never done before.

I do just as she did. I tower over her, leaning my body slightly to reach her earlobe -moving her locks behind her ear-, so I can play with all the sensitive spots she seems to have there. Just a gentle touch from my fingers and she's already gasping for air.

—Wait —she stops me, when I finally get rid of her pants—. I know it'll sound dumb, but I don't...

—You aren't ready? —I finish for me—. It's okay —she stops me from stepping back, holding my arm.

—It's not that. I'm not ready for that.

I see her moving her head, trying to let me know what she means, although I'm kinda clear on what she's talking about. Of course she isn't ready to fuck yet.

—But I want to do something else. I want you to touch me —she whispers, some tints of shyness adorning her words—, and I want you to teach me how to touch you.

I think I know what we could do, so I point with my head towards the bed. Even if she seems to be okay with it, I still ask her many times whether she's ready or not, always making sure she knows she can stop whenever she feels like it.

—If you want to stop, just say it, okay? —I let her know, as I see her lying in the middle of her bed.

I join her, kneeling in front of her body when she finally nods. But it's not until she starts stripping that I'm aware that maybe the one that isn't ready it's me. Y/n takes her bra and panties off calmly, breathing turning heavy when she finally looks at me with her cheeks slightly blushed. I can feel my dicks twitch inside my boxers when I see her perking nipples on full display, just imagining the rugosity of her buttons is driving me crazy. And that mixed with the fact that her legs are still rubbing closer, hiding her core from me... I don't think I'm strong enough.

I get naked with her, taking off my boxers under her attentive gaze. Her eyes go a bit wide when she finally sees me completely naked, and her lips travel in between her lips to wet them. I move her right thigh lower so I can straddle it, and finally catch a glimpse of her wet pussy.

I hold my cock with my left hand, while the other one massages her left thighs, pushing it away so her legs are completely spread and she's finally open for me.

—Put your fingers around me.

I try not to choke on my own spit when I finally feel her fingers around me. And even if I want her to move it, I stop her to spit close to her fingers so she has some lube to work on. I motion her hand under mine on my cock, letting her know how to start, how to make me feel good. Y/n is so distracted from pleasuring me, that she isn't aware of how close I'm getting to her core until my palm is completely covering it.

My fingers slide through her folds, from her entrance to her clit, spreading her juices before I start teasing it with two of my fingers.

—Have you ever touched yourself? —she nods.

My fingers go down her pussy again, finding her tight hole. I tease her, moving my digit in circles to get her ready, until she lifts her hips and commands me to invade her. The moment I slide in, her fingers wrap around my shaft tighter, making both of us moan.

Her walls embrace my fingers perfectly, and I can tell she has never done much more than fingering herself with one finger -or, at most, two- when touching herself.

—You're so tight —I groan, sliding my finger until it's knuckles deep inside her.

I move in sync with her hand, giving to the both of us the best simulation, it almost feels as we were fucking each other right now. The pleasure in her eyes, when Y/n finally looks at me is indescribable.

I stretch her out, enough to add a second finger that makes her lips press on each other harder, the moan getting stuck in her throat.

—You're working on my cock so well —with my free hand, I reach her face, my thumb pushing her lower lip so her mouth is parted and I can hear her gasps—. Let me hear you. Let me know how good I'm being to you.

My left hand travels from her jaw and neck to her tits, touching them as gently as I'm able to right now, while my fingers curl inside of her. I finally hear a moan from her, that only encourages me to keep moving on that spot a few more times. Her legs spread wider, and her thigh caged between my legs rubs and pressed against my balls. And fuck ain't that hot. And she knows it, because she keeps that pressure and moves on my loaded balls while her hand moves faster on my cock.

—Jungkook —I move my fingers faster, making the wet sounds that come from her pussy completely audible for the two of us—. Fuck, you're so good.

Her pussy clenches around my fingers after a few more minutes, and I know she's about to get there. I want her to get there. My thumb works on her needy clit, while my fingers thrust into her fast, making her tits bounce with the movement.

She lets a loud moan fill the room when she cums, back arching and eyes going blank as her free hand holds onto the sheets while the other holds onto my cock. And that image is the only thing I need to cum all over her.

—Oh fuck —I moan.

But after a few seconds enjoying the feeling of my high, and her hand still on my cock, I'm aware that I've actually cummed all over her, my load is on her belly.

—Oh fuck —I repeat, but this time I'm concerned.

I move away from her, taking my fingers out as carefully as I can before I get to her bathroom. I first clean my fingers, and walk back to her.

—I'm sorry —I apologize, joining her on the bed again.

—It's alright —she assures me, while I start cleaning her up—. It's okay —she says again, before I'm able to speak.

—You were really good —I wipe the toilet paper over her sensitive core, the gentle rub making her body shake slightly while I clean her up.

Everything is fine until this time comes. I threw the paper away, and it's time to throw myself away as well.

Should I get home? Should I spend the night here? I know that's a really bad idea.

She wouldn't be the first girl I spend the night with, and wake up next to, but something about her being the girl I'd wake up next to makes me feel uneasy. It gives this whole thing a whole new level of intimacy I don't think I'm ready to reach, which is ironic considering my fingers were deep in her not even five minutes ago.

—You can stay the night —she assures me.

I'm about to agree, but I just shake my head and start picking my clothes up. I'm running away again.

—It'll be better if I sleep back home —I dress up.

I know she's confused about this, I'm confused about this myself, but I think it's the best for the two of us. I walk to her, and lean over her body to kiss her head before I leave.