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

[l0nelyish]

Happy Xmas (War Is Over)

prompt: Natasha needs some cheering up this holiday season. And you seem to have just the right idea.

not a song fic, but the title seemed fitting ;)

happy holidays! x

~~~~~~~

Natasha was thrown off by the weather. Slowly, everything seemed more gloomy and so white, she could barely see New York’s outline out of her huge window. Sitting behind her desk, she decided on doing some more paperwork. The avenger was never one to just lose herself in the Christmas spirit, she didn’t get the ‘charm’ it held.

Only two doors ahead, you were humming to the soft tune of ‘Driving Home For Christmas’ while wrapping some last-minute gifts you bought. Excitement filled you and a soft smile graced your features thinking of the holiday season and spending Christmas intimately with the avengers, who pretty much became your family over the last couple of months. In the middle of wrapping a customized arrow for Clint, you noticed the lack of glue. “Shit”, you murmured and started looking desperately for some little sticky pieces.

Two minutes later, you declared your own defeat. You let out a loud sigh and figured you needed another option.

Natasha’s eyebrow twitched in anticipation and confusion once she heard a soft knock on her door. “Friday, unlock my door please.” “Alright, Ms. Romanoff. I am letting Ms. Y/L/N in.” Natasha watched you step into her space and sent you a soft smile.

“Hey! I didn’t mean to bother, I just ran out of glue for my gift wrappings and I wondered if you might have some stripes for me.”, you sent her a grin and stepped closer, leaning onto her desk.

“Sure, let me look for it.”, Natasha started rummaging through her desk. You turned around and took a look around her room. In the 10 months you’ve been living with the team, you can finger count how many times you stepped into Natasha’s room. But it were enough times to notice that she hasn’t changed even a bit of decor into a more joyful and warm flair. “No Christmas decor, huh?”, you smirked. The question threw her off guard a little and her hands stilled in one of her drawers for a second. “Very attentive, are we? No. Christmas is not really my thing. And I never go big on decoration.”, she sent you a smile, almost apologetically.

You hummed and nodded: “Yeah, I guess it’s not for everyone. I just thought you might be a bit more joyful, I mean.. I heard you like to celebrate with Clint’s family and kids are so- ecstatic?”

Natasha chuckled: “Yeah, they love it. And i love seeing the joy on their faces, that’s enough holiday spirit for me.”, she shrugged and handed you the glue stripes.

“Thank you!”, you took them and turned to leave her room. On your way out, you stalled. “You know”, you faced her again, making Natasha look up: “maybe we could go on a walk? Just to get you into a more ‘joyful’ mood. Because sitting behind a stack of mission reports, that won’t run away, is a little lousy-“, you closed the door and walked away, not giving Natasha much time to process your words. She shook her head, chuckling. Sometimes, you reminded her of a child, or a puppy. But she wouldn’t trade you for anything or anyone. Natasha grew so fond of you, in fact, her heart bursts every time she sees you around.

Ten minutes passed and you found yourself knocking on her door again. This time, Natasha opened it herself. She was already dressed properly and wrapped in a scarf with a black knitted beanie on her head, a tiny red hourglass symbol sewn into it. She sent you a smile and locked her door with her code.

“So, where are we going?”

“Just for a walk around the compound. If that’s alright.”

“That’s definitely alright. Lead the way.”

You two spent the next twenty minutes walking through the woods. The snow seemed to fall slower, much softer. It was now an almost mesmerizing sight to Natasha. But just almost, because you starring up at the sky happily was more dear to her. Precious, in a way.

“You know, maybe you should decorate a little. I think it would be good for you, Tash.”, she nodded slowly. There was an unspoken understanding, you didn’t need to ask why she doesn’t enjoy Christmas, you just accepted her the way she is. And Natasha didn’t find you pushy, she knew you meant the best for her, for everyone.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right… maybe- maybe you would like to help me out?”, you hugged her reassuringly. Another silent agreement.

As you kept returning to the compound, Nat suddenly let go of your hand. Sneakily she faked fixing her shoe lace and you didn’t bother checking on her. You only turned around, in pure shock, once you felt something utterly cold hit your neck. There she was, letting out the most uncontrolled and carefree laugh you’ve ever heard the redhead make. “You did not just-“

“Whoops. My bad!”, she smirked.

“Oh. It’s so on, Romanoff.”, you said lowly, crouching slowly to form a snowball of your own.

Several minutes later, you both looked as white as the ground you’ve been standing on. The last thrown snowball landed on your chin and Natasha reached over gently to wipe some of the white substance off your face. This was the closest she’s ever been to you and you felt your breath hitch. Not because of the cold, but because of the anticipation. Oh, how gentle her features seemed up close. How beautiful her eyes are. It seemed like time moved even slower and Natasha gently cupped your cheek, as if to memorize your face.

“You know”, she whispered, just for the two of you to hear: “maybe Christmas isn’t so bad, after all.” “I’m glad I could help. You deserve this as much as anyone else, Natasha. You deserve to be happy.”

Natasha slowly leaned in and captured your lips in a sealed kiss. You both smiled into it, finding the joy within the bond you share. And she never lacked of a Christmas spirit again, having you by her side.

[feralfens]

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

[kaivenom]

How would Benedict Bridgerton court you... HCS

Masterlist

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

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

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

Inmediatly he took the chance and asked you to dance.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Then we both must play."

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

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

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

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

Thats when the game stopped and started to get serious.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I am here to propose."

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

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

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

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

"How?" you asked him, still processing.

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

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

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

"I love you."

"I know, and i love you too."

[itneverendshere]

thinking of how rafe wouldn’t want you to work while pregnant

that man would be so stressed, since day one!! and bartender!reader would noooot give him a break, still covering bartending shifts even tho she was the manager bc she simply enjoyed doing it every once in a while. and he's like ?????? will you sit your ass down PLEASE. but you're not listening, if there's ONE thing the pregnancy hormones gave you was extra attitude. somethin' along these lines:

rafe could feel his jaw clenching as he watched you across the room, rolling your eyes for the third time in the past five minutes. you were doing it on purpose now, deliberately ignoring him while standing behind the bar, mixing drinks like you weren’t six months pregnant.

the bartender had called in sick, and you, the manager, jumped in and covered for him. rafe crossed his arms, leaning against the counter, and tried not to look too annoyed, but fuck if it wasn’t hard.

you still had that spark in you, that independence that drew him in from the start, but now? now it just made him worry.

worry like he never thought he could.

“you’re really gonna give me a heart attack, y’know that?” he called out, his voice carrying over the chatter around the country club.

most people were too busy with their drinks and golf gossip to notice you two bickering, but anyone paying attention could see that familiar dynamic. you doing whatever you damn well pleased, him trying to keep his cool, which he never really could when it came to you putting yourself at risk.

you glanced at him over your shoulder, hands moving like second nature as you garnished a drink. “’m fine, baby” you told him, voice just as breezy as ever, like the huge bump pressing against your shirt was nothing more than an accessory. “it’s just a couple hours.”

there was that old habit of yours—acting like everything was fine when you clearly weren’t. or maybe you were, but that wasn’t the point.

the point was, you shouldn’t have to be there.

“you say that, but i know you’re gonna be hurting later,” he muttered, pushing off the counter and walking around to your side of the bar.

his hand landed gently on your waist, thumb brushing the small of your back like he always did when he wanted to get you to stop for just a second.

“c’mon, baby. just take a break, you don’t need to be on your feet like this.”

it wasn’t that you didn’t want help—you’d worked through that over the past couple years—but that stubborn streak was still there.

“’m not some porcelain doll,” you reminded him, rolling your eyes again, “’m not gonna drop dead because i’m pregnant.”

he felt his stomach drop when those words left your mouth. "jesus christ, woman," he muttered, his eyes widening in exasperation. "don’t say that shit.”

“alright, my bad,” you gave in, “didn’t mean it like that.”

rafe sighed, his hand still resting on you. he hated when you talked like that, like you had to remind him how capable you were. of course he knew. 

"promise me you're taking a leave starting tomorrow," he practically begged you despite attempting to sound firm, but that undertone of worry had been his constant companion ever since you'd found out you were pregnant. 

"next week," you sang back, not even looking up from the drink you were finishing. 

you were still in work mode, determined to keep things running smoothly despite the fact you should’ve been at home, resting.

"tomorrow," he insisted, leaning in closer, his voice softening but no less serious.

you turned to face him, eyes narrowing. "next week, or you’re not getting sex for the next three months. now get outta my bar.”

rafe blinked, his jaw going slack as he stared at you, completely blindsided. 

“what—"

“go on,” you gestured toward the other side of the counter with a flick of your hand, “out.”

his mouth opened and closed a couple of times, like a fish. he was processing, but slowly.

"but… baby," he whined, his voice dipping into a tone that could only be described as kicked puppy. “just—wanna make sure you’re okay. that you’re safe, and you’re not overdoing it. you can’t kick me out, i need to be around you.”

you gave him that look, the one that told him he was pushing his luck. "rafe, i swear to god—”

he let out a long, dramatic sigh, but started to back off, lifting his hands in surrender.

"alright, alright, ‘m going," he grunted, dragging his feet toward the exit like a kid being told to go to bed. but before he did go, he turned back one more time, his eyes pleading. "i’ll be outside if you need me."

"of course you will," you muttered, shaking your head with a half-smile. you knew he wasn’t going far, probably just far enough to hover and peek through the windows, pretending to give you space but unable to help himself.

"i love you, stop spiraling," you called out after him.

he paused, turning back to look at you, his expression softening.  

“love you too.”

[luveline]

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

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

cw for labour/delivery, no graphic imagery

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It has to be time soon.” 

“You think so? Should I find someone?” 

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

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

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

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

“It’s not over,” you snip, sniffing. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s your nose,” he says. 

“I think so.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Jackers,” he says in relief.

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

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

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

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

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

Jess stays by the door. 

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

“Wow,” Aaron echoes. 

“Can I touch her?” 

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

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

“Was I this little?” 

“You were smaller,” Aaron whispers. 

“She’s a real baby, dad.” 

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you sure?” Jack asks. 

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

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

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

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

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

“Was she squished?” 

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

“Will it ever be small again?” 

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

“About your belly?” 

“About the baby.” 

“I wish I was her.” 

You stroke behind his ear. “How come?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[macabr3-barbi3]

CTRL ALT DELETE- Task Manager (Vox/Reader)

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

https://archiveofourown.org/works/54688282

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

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

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

Your new boss seemed stressed. 

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

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

Right over his head. 

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

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

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

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

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

He raises an eyebrow. “Pardon?”

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

God, but you wanted to be.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You delete what you can and empty the recycling bin.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Which is a surprise, albeit a pleasant one.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[bradshawssugarbaby]

Easy Like Sunday Morning - Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

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

pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x reader

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

word count: 1.5k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I think I can handle it.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I wouldn’t miss it.” 

[jamiepaige]

Constant Companions Closeup #1: DYAD

(also on spotify!)

Hello everyone!! It's been a couple weeks and change since Constant Companions, my newest album, was released unto the world, and I've been genuinely blown away by the response. Genuinely, thank you to everyone who's been streaming, commenting, making mashups, changing their pfps and usernames - it means the world to me!

I wanted to give some of that love back with something people have been asking me a lot about - and, admittedly, something I love doing. Song explanations! Deep dives! Dropping the lore! Welcome... to the Constant Companions Closeups...

For the next eleven days, I'll be going into each track one by one and babbling about the process, inspiration, details, feelings, and thoughts behind each one! We're getting sappy. We're bearing our hearts. We're telling unfunny jokes. And we're starting with track one - DYAD (featuring unit.0)!

---

Naturally, since this is the first track, it also serves as a great point to talk about my intention with this album as a whole!

I'll elaborate more on this with future tracks, but to me, there are really two main things that define the sonic progression of this album versus my previous work - guitars and vocal synths. Obviously, these things have been present in my work since I first started calling myself Jamie Paige, but Constant Companions is intended to be my overwrought, sappy confession of love to these two things that time and time again have made me simply want to make music. I love rock and I love Hatsune Miku dammit!!!

I had originally written this song in February of 2023 for a game-jam-esque online festival hosted by my friend Loni called HAPPY PARTY TRI, and at that time, I had found myself at a major crossroads. I had put out People Posture Play Pretend and :women_wrestling: the previous year, and while the response was nice, I was feeling listless and lost.

I love singing. I like my voice well enough. I certainly love writing music with lyrics!! But... there was something uniquely electrifying about using vocal synths. Amidst a lot of insecurity and emotional turmoil surrounding the process of making art and putting myself out into the world, it was one of the few things that just made everything feel right. Suddenly, I was making the same kind of music that had touched my heart so many times over.

Would it alienate people, though? Would I lose longtime listeners? Yes, that weighed on my mind more than I'd like to admit, but even more than that... I was worried I'd lose some part of myself, as silly as it sounds. Maybe what I thought was a bridge would become a barrier, and the messages I wanted to send across the gap would never find their way.

Ultimately, I felt that Dyad was the only kind of opener I could've possibly given this album, and a perfect fit for the album's motif. A dialogue between myself, stricken with loneliness and a lack of inertia running in circles, and that synthesized voice (ANRI Arcane my darling), grabbing the outstretched hand and asking a question I already know the answer to -

"Baby, do you know what you wanna hear?"

Yes, it's a love song, but it's not just for a person - it's a love song for the creative impulse, and for the places I wanted it to take me.

im resisting the urge to be jokingly dismissive of myself to diffuse tension but i still need to signal that the emotionally bare part of this is over so pretend im doing a funny little dance Anyways let's talk more technical stuff

---

Like many of my songs, Dyad came together from a patchwork of different snippets and ideas I had laying around. The back half of the chorus - "dream together, we can dream together" - originally came from this idea I had jotted down something like 9 months prior, but ended up being a perfect fit for Dyad in basically every way. The verse snippet that I'd written to go with it got reused for a later song on Constant Companions as well! (I say without naming it, as if it isn't literally lifted wholesale from this demo and thus incredibly obvious)

I wasn't originally planning on brazenly quoting the bridge of a Tally Hall song when I set out to write this song, but while toying around with a bridge idea involving a shortened version of the pre-chorus melody, I realized I had inadvertently copied it anyways. I was going to scrap it... but at the request of my dear friend and certified Tally Hall lover Marcy Nabors, I made it an explicit reference. Which I'm fine with, personally! The first CD I ever owned was a copy of Marvin's Marvelous Mechanical Museum my sister bought me all the way back in 2006 - You can pry that sentimental attachment from my cold, dead hands, TikTok kiddies.

Lastly - not really behind the scenes so much as just a shoutout - thank you to unit.0 for the lovely lead guitar work on this song!! He's been a beloved collaborator of mine for many, many years now, and one of the people who ultimately convinced me this direction was the right one to go in, so it means a lot to share this song with him. Go listen to his music!!! Now!!!!!!

That's about it for this song! Not to sound like a fucking YouTuber, but genuinely, if there are any details you'd like to hear more about, let me know and I might made a bonus post at the end of all this. Otherwise, thank you for listening! Tomorrow: Not Quite There, featuring telebasher!

❤️💚

[winterspiderpurrs]

Tap. Tap. Pause. Click. Click. Tap.

The clerk sat back. She was a little pale, looking from the computer before looking over at the couple across from her. This has happened before, but .. normally not with such a public figure. Taking a deep breath before she spoke.

" I apologize for the delay, but there seems to be an issue. Unfortunately, we can not process the marriage certificate. "

" What?" " Why not?"

Pepper and Tony looked at each other and then back to the clerk. She cleared her throat.

"It appears that you, Mr. Stark are currently married. Looks like... 14 years ago?"

Tony sat back in his chair, processing the news and sorting through his memories.

" That was annulled."

Pepper nodded in agreement with Tony's statement. She had just started at SI when this happened. She wasn't high up yet, but she heard the whispers.

" Yes. I see where the paperwork was filed, but unfortunately, it looks like you did not actually sign it, Mr. Stark. "

Tony twitches for a moment before grabbing a pen off the desk.

" I'll sign it right now,"

"I wish it worked like that, Mr. Stark, but it's been 14 years. New paperwork would need to be drafted and submitted. We would obviously expedite the paperwork, no worries."

Tony sighs and rubs his eyes with the palms of his hands.

Pepper shakes her head and rolls her eyes over at Tony. Turning to the clerk, she offers her a smile.

" Thank you. We will be in touch."

Once Tony and Pepper get back into the car, Pepper hits Tony with her purse.

" This is why when you are given paper you you sign for it! God Tony. The wedding invitations already went out. What do you think the media is gonna say?"

" I'm sorry, Pep! You know that was a bad time for me. He signed the paperwork before, and I'm sure he will sign again."

" Make sure that he does. Cut him a check if you have to. I'll draft an NDA to send over."

Shaking her head, Pepper is alreasy typing away on her phone.

"Happy, get me to the airport. We are going to New York."

" On it, Boss."

Relaxing back into his seat, Tony adjusts his glasses.

" Alright, Friday. Get me everything you can on Peter Parker, contact the lawyer he used before. Once Pepper gets the paperwork ready, send it over to them. Schedule a meeting for when we land. Money is no issue, I'll cover everything. But get them to the Stark Industries tower."

" Contacting them now,"

Sighing, Tony closes his eyes and drags up the memories from all those years ago.

Tony and Peter meet in rehab. Which should have warned Tony off. But he was struggling in staying sober. And Peter? He was his ray of sunshine in that bleek place.

The omega was quiet, too skinny, but his brown eyes sparkled when they talked science. And they were both well on their way to recover. But when Tony was invited to a party. So he left the rehab and dragged Peter with him. Turned into a binder weekend. They partied and at some point found themselves in Vegas.

One speeding ticket and car wreck later. Tony was put back in rehab, and he offered to pay for Peter to go to a nicer facility, NOT where he also was. A month later, Tony checked himself back out of rehab, got his lawyers, and they sent out the paperwork. He was just thankful that Peter accepted, and he put it behind himself.

He tried not to look back on that time and move forward.

Friday pulled up an image from some social media page Peter had and he froze. His heart hammering loudly.

" Sir. I Think your having a panic attack. You need to breath."

" Tony? What's wrong?"

Tony just keeps staring.

There is Peter, happy looking, filled out, obviously older, a bright smile on his face. Arm around a teenager who looks close to 14 years old. And a toddler balanced on his hip.

[ahgasegotarmy116]

BANG-ABLE | Jeon Jungkook | Drabble 3

Summary: Running into someone from your past that you had hoped you'd never see again was not on your to do list today. Pairing: f!reader x Sex Bot Jungkook Word Count: 1.3k~ Warnings: Literally nothing lol enjoy~ Requested by @missmorningglory 💜

After Jungkook begged me over and over and over again I finally concede and brought him to the mall with me, giving him a very clear warning that if he picked up another mannequin or started touching everything again like he did last time I would ground him, leaving him promising me he'll be on his best behavior. 

We compromised after that and decided it would be best if I just let him hold my hand the whole time because he claimed he couldn't control himself. 

He's a literal robot and can be controlled but I'm too lazy to try and reprogram him for something as silly as that.

As we come upon the next aisle and start looking through all the newish electronics I see someone out of the corner of my eye that I regrettably recognize making me duck behind Jungkook, hoping he didn't see me.

"Is everything alright?" he chuckles, turning to face me, still managing to keep me hidden. "Yeah everything is fine. Completely fine. Just, don't move from this spot for a while yeah?" I say, peeking around him to see that the guy I recognized is getting closer. 

"Actually you know what? Why don't we go to the next aisle? I heard there's a new electric toothbrush that you can hook your phone up to and I really wanna check it out" I say, trying to tug him down the aisle but in the process bump into a speaker behind me, making a Sabrina Carpenter song shoot through it on full blast, startling all three of us and bringing the guys attention over to Jungkook and I.

"Y/n?" he asks, recognizing me immediately making me cringe, wishing the world would open up and swallow me whole. "Yeah, um hi...you" I say, not one hundred percent sure of his name making him chuckle. "Jake" he says, reintroducing himself and I snap.

"Jake! I almost forgot, silly me" I say, my awkwardness level up to a billion leaving all three of us standing there and I realize after having a long pause that I should probably introduce Jungkook. 

"Sorry um, this is Jungkook, my boyfriend. Jungkook this is Ja-" "Jake, got it" Jungkook says flatly, sizing him up and trying to figure out who exactly this man might be to me since he's never come up before.

"Nice to meet you" Jake says, holding out his hand to Jungkook and he takes it, making Jake's brows knit together and let go seconds later. "Strong handshake" he chuckles and shakes out his hand. 

"So um...how have you been?" I ask, internally yelling at myself to stop trying to make small talk. "I've been alright. I was wondering where you wandered off to but now I know..." he says, his eyes sizing up Jungkook right back. "Yeah Jungkook and I met a few months ago and we just...hit it off" I chuckle awkwardly.

"So you guys used to date?" Jungkook asks, Jake saying 'yes' while I'm rushing to say 'no' making Jungkook cock a brow at me. "We went out a couple of times bu-" 

'But I bet we'd have really good bed chem' Sabrina sings right on fucking cue, cutting me off preventing any sort of salvaging of this conversation.

The three of us all stood there awkwardly after that, the song as our backing track making me finally press pause, taking my blood pressure down just a bit. Those lyrics alone hinting at what had gone down between Jake and I. "Anyways, we decided it wasn't gonna work out" I explain making Jake chuckle bitterly. 

"We decided?" he echoes making me cringe, obviously not telling the full truth. "I...I decided" I concede making him nod in agreement. "Ghosted me is more like it" he mumbles making me feel bad, not having had to experience an encounter like this before.

"Yeah...sorry bout that" I say, but we all know I'm not sorry. If anything I'm more sorry that I have to go through this as a result. "I'll let you guys get back to shopping then. It was nice meeting you Jungkook...Y/n" he says, looking me up and down once more before leaving the aisle, making me let out a breath of relief. 

"Was tha-" "I don't wanna talk about it" I say holding my hand up to Jungkook's face to stop the conversation before it gets started leaving him chuckling at my expense. "Oh yeah laugh it up, we'll see where that gets you" I huff and walk in the opposite direction that Jake went, leaving Jungkook jogging after me to catch up.

"That guy looked pretty familiar" he says in my ear when we start making our way out and back to the car. "Really? I'm pretty sure I've never shown him to you. I don't even think I have a picture of him" I say thinking about it for a second and Jungkook just shakes his head.

"What?" I ask and he just shrugs his shoulder, "Oh nothing" he says and opens my car door for me. "No tell me!" I whine leaving him placing a kiss on my pouty lips. "I just thought he looked really familiar that's all" he shrugs again making my eyes roll.

"Who does he remind you of then?" I ask and his next answer makes me choke on air. "Me" he chuckles and pats my back to help soothe my coughing fit. "What?" I ask, not remotely expecting that since...let's be honest, Jungkook is a hell of a lot more handsome than Jake...but I'll never tell.

"It's okay to have a type. I just wasn't expecting to see the guy you modeled me after" he taunts, poking my cheek making me pout further. "I did not model you after him" I huff and close the car door on him leaving him laughing and walking around to the passenger seat. 

"Ava is the one that created you remember? I hardly had any part in it" I mumble and put the car into drive, heading straight home since I know I'll be forced to deal with his teasings for the rest of the night. 

"Yeah but you clearly have a type if she's able to make a sex bot for you with a similar vibe" he counters making me groan. "For the last time you are not modeled after him!" and he puts his hands up in defeat. "Whatever you say my love" he addresses me with the motive of taking the edge off. 

The car goes silent for a while until I can tell he's bursting at the seams to ask me another question. 

"So if I asked you to show me your previous boyfriends would you say yes?" he chances. "Absolutely not" I grumble and he laughs, "That's fine, I'm sure I can always as Ava" he smirks, satisfied with his plan.

"He wasn't even my boyfriend...but he wanted to be. And so that's why I ghosted him" I explain and he hums. "Pussy so good you got him whipped after a few tastes?" he says, his vulgar way of putting it catching me off guard.

"Jungkook!" I scold him, my cheeks heating up at that, making his chuckle that fucking cocky chuckle that makes me wanna get on my knees for him. "What? I don't blame the guy. I'd never wanna let you go either" he admits but I sigh, bringing myself back down to reality.

 "You're programmed to be obsessed with me so your words don't hold much weight in this context" I explain but he just shrugs. 

"From the way he was looking at you, clearly still wanting you...and the way he was looking at me, pissed that he wasn't in my place I know my calculations are correct. Call it what you want but you're addictive" he counters making me squirm in place, the compliment with evidence to corroborate it making me nervous.

"Shut up and let me drive" I huff and he stifles back his laughter, having mercy on me...but that mercy is short lived. His need to prove himself evident as soon as we walk in the door, making sure to remind me that no one could ever compare to him.

Drabble Masterlist

Taglist: @jkslipppiercing @trina864 @kaitieskidmore97 @goddesofimortality @coolbluedude @coralmusicblaze @whoa-jo @00frenchfries00 @pastelpinkjoon Rest of the tags are in the comments 💜

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[auroras-zenith]

what doesn't kill you // part 3

you had your whole life planned out for you; start an agency with your best friend, scale the charts and make japan your bitch. but when a tragic accident leaves you incapacitated and out of a job, you find you just need to start fresh. you cut ties–and for two years, you've all but disappeared. until they need you again and come knocking at your door.

bakugo x retiredpro!reader

prologue ✧ previous ✧ next

"They say there's a chance you could learn to walk again." He offered, trying to be as optimistic as he could. Lord knows you didn't need another thing to feel bad about.

"How big a chance?"

He flushed, looking away.

He had caught you after you had passed out, moving to sit beside you afterward.

The nurses were beginning to bustle about. You had caught a few pitying glances already–each one only making you wish your bed would swallow you whole.

"It's been done before."

"I know you know the stats." You said with a sigh.

He sighed too, squeezing your hand. "I just... I don't want you to feel like you can't. I know you can."

"Izuku."

He winced. "One in a hundred."

You sunk a little lower beneath the sheets at that.

The silence stretched on, neither of you knowing exactly what to say after that.

"Sorry I'm late." The door quietly swung shut behind the heterochromic boy as he moved to take a seat beside you; saving both of you from the awkward tension. "I couldn't get out of the press conference."

Right. Because for the rest of them, hero work went on.

You pushed the thought to the corner of your mind, adding it to the list of things you'd think about later.

He pulled a chair over, blank eyes softening as he saw you. He leaned over to give you a quick hug. "I'm happy you're okay." He said softly.

"How'd it go? Have you guys found him?" You asked, ignoring the last comment for no reason beyond its awkward nature.

You had learned from Midoriya that you had been out for two weeks, but he hadn't any other information. Apparently, he had spent most of his time here with you.

Todoroki nodded. "Bakugo did. The day after the incident." He informed you solemnly.

Your heart clenched oddly at the name.

"He got to the fucker before the authorities could. Beat him up pretty bad. For a second it looked like Bakugo was going to be charged with assault because the villain could barely walk after, but... given the circumstances..." He looked down, shaking his head.

You flicked a piece of lint off your blanket glumly. "Suppose he's been pretty busy then." You muttered bitterly.

That was the next question you had grilled Midoriya for. Turned out, in the half a month you had been in a coma, Bakugo hadn't dropped by once.

Todoroki looked at you, blinking slowly. "Y/n, it's not like that."

You scoffed but said nothing.

"It really isn't. He was so angry. He is so angry. He didn't go home that night. He stayed up until dawn looking for the villain and didn't stop till he found the guy." He told you. "He's just processing."

You sighed, turning to look out the window. "I guess." You just wished that he could process here. With you. And maybe some better food.

"He'll visit soon."

It was like that for the next couple of days. All of your friends, acquaintances, even a bunch of people you knew only by name–all showing up to wish you a speedy recovery and look at you with their pitying gazes that made your skin crawl.

And yet through it all, Bakugo never showed up.

"Are you up for another visitor?"

You looked up, slightly surprised to see a purple haired girl standing in the doorway. Jirou, as you recalled from high school–or rather, Earphone Jack she went by now.

You shrugged, nodding sulkily. What did it matter, really?

"Thanks for coming." You spoke quietly. So unlike your usual self.

She stared at you for a minute as you stared firmly at your lap. Everyone's pity was starting to drown you alive–and you had concluded that the only way to survive it was to pretend it wasn't there.

"Hiroshi and Yutaka Kota." She finally broke the silence.

You glanced up, confused. "What?"

"The children you saved." The girl answered. "Those were their names."

You shook your head. She must've been confused. "I wasn't able to save them." You whispered, hands clenched tightly together in your lap. "I was too slow.

"You're wrong. They were a bit banged up, but thanks to you they had just enough time to escape before the building really collapsed."

That couldn't have been right. And yet you wished so dearly that it was. You felt tears welling up in your eyes again–whether because you were happy or sad you weren't quite sure.

"I'm really sorry that this happened to you." She said quietly.

But there was something off about her tone. It wasn't pitying. Didn't feel like nails on a chalkboard as most people's did so often nowadays. It was... understanding. It was actually quite nice.

"But I thought it'd be nice for you to know that it wasn't for nothing. Including those two, 326 people accredit their lives to you, Cordelia."

You looked away, feeling the tears leak down your cheeks now.

"Thank you." You whispered. "It was getting really tiring hearing people tell me how 'at least I didn't die,' or some other unrealistically optimistic bullshit."

She snorted. "That's lowkey a weird thing to say to someone."

"Tell me about it."

She looks at you, and smiles.

Why had you two not been close before? You had both gone to UA together–hell, you two had more mutuals than you could count. And yet, you had never found yourselves in the other's company; and even after you both graduated, you never saw her on the field.

"Are you going to go to the hero gala?" She asked after a beat of pause.

Right. The hero gala. In the grand scheme of things, it just seemed so trivial now. "I didn't think I was still invited." You said honestly, letting your shoulders rise and fall.

"Of course you are." She corrected. "Cordelia, if anyone can learn to walk again? It's you. And even if you can't, that doesn't change your legacy. You're amazing, dude."

You smiled softly down at your sheets. "Yeah, I guess. Maybe. I'll think about it."

"Do. It's in three days. I'll see you there, okay?"

"Wait." You called as she stood before she could make it all the way to the door. "Why did you visit me?" You asked at last.

She smiled to herself, as if thinking upon a fond memory. "You're awesome. I always see you on the news. You're revolutionizing the space. Paving the way for women. It's amazing. Honestly." She told you proudly. "You're amazing, Cordelia."

For the first time in weeks, the load in your eyes lightened slightly, and you felt your lips tug into a small smile. It didn't erase the ache in your heart or bring back feeling to your legs, but it was something.

a/n: istg my tags are broken 🥲 sorry if ur tag doesn't work

taglist:@floverisland @biancatomlinson @rosaryia @highlandhyena @sarashu @rednicotine @emmaiscool22 @your-mum3000 @whoreforfictionalmen18 @sikuthealien

permanent tags: @phtmmsqrde @pikachuzhc

[whereianonymouslypostfics]

Happy Birthday

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x reader

Word count: ~2k

Summary: An odd tradition

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

Warnings: fluff, arguments, fluff!

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

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

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

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

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

Wanda deserved it just a little bit.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What the fuck!? Pietro!?” 

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

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

“Wands! Hi, um, we, I uh…” 

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

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

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

“A few months.” 

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

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

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

“Wanda wait!” 

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

“What?” 

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

“Happy birthday.” 

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

“What?” 

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

“Happy birthday, babe.” 

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

“Are you serious?” 

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

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

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

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

“But I didn’t cheat on you!”

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

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

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

“Pietro? Really?” 

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

“Brilliant, hmm?” 

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

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

“That was pretty terrifying.” 

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

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

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

“For some reason you’re mine though.” 

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

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

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

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

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

“And Pietro’s.” 

You hope so.  

Masterlist

Taglist: @idkwhatever580

[alotofpockets]

From dreams to diapers | Alessia Russo

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

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

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

Masterlist | Woso masterlist | Words: 2.3k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

lottewubbenmoy: I'm gonna be an autie!

↳ alessiarusso99: The best auntie :)

↳ leahwilliamsonn: Already playing favoritism...

↳ lottewubbenmoy: Best friend privileges😋

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

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↳ user2: OMG y/n liked

leahwilliamsonn: Congrats to the both of you 😘

arsenalwfc: more baby Gooners!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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y/nrusso and alessiarusso99 posted

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

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

viviannemiedema: The best mama's! 😍

bethmead_: The cutest!

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

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

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y/nrusso: Life lately 🥰

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[fruitmins]

Agust Dad—One

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

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

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

<next part>

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

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

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

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

Or so you thought.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Miss? Are you okay?”

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

Kim Seokjin.

Yoongi’s bandmate and older brother.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You knew good and well who the father was.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/N?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yoongi.

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

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

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

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

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

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

[outsideratheart]

Meant to be - snippet (Alexia Putellas x reader)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How do you know that?” 

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

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

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

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

“And dinner afterwards” Alexia suggested.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I have your results. Miss Y/L/N—“

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

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

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

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

“Not necessarily”

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

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

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

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

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

The doctor looked at you for help.

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re pregnant. Rather far along actually”

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

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

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

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

[bibliophilesince2003]

Oplita Oneshot

This is based off of Transformers One. I've been itching to write something wholesome, and I absolutely adore Optimus and Elita as a couple. Normally, I put my writing on Wattpad. Then again, those are usually full-length stories. It just made sense to do this particular oneshot here. Perhaps I'll do more oneshots of my favorite fandoms in the future.

So, yeah, this is for my fellow die-hard Oplita fans.

Also... this takes place after the ending of Transformers One, maybe a few months or so after the ending. Sorry, I'm not sure what a month is in cybertronian terms; Google was unhelpful. If you have not seen Transformers One in its entirety, this one shot may not be as impactful as it could be.

-

Optimus ducked as he walked past the door frame, mumbling to himself. His eyes were glued to the data disks in his hands; he had grabbed far too many. A few dropped to the ground. He bent to pick them up, but only lost more in the process. Optimus shook his head and resorted to sitting on the ground, spreading out the data. Now he could read them better, though some of the works and markings were faded and illegible. He grunted, his legs getting in the way. Being taller and bulkier had its advantages in battle, but he couldn't exactly crawl through vents like he used to. Bee had joked that perhaps the Matrix of Leadership had a "switch" for shrinking, but Elita said that size didn't matter. Then, she promptly added, stupidity was sure to remain.

He was glad he didn't intimidate her, even after becoming a prime. Her suggestion to "adapt" to sudden change was both firm and helpful, though harsh. Now, it settled deep in his spark, and he began to overthink. What if he didn't adapt? Would she think less of him?

A memory flashed through his mind, eliminating his worries about Eilta. He may have been dying, but he remembered catching a glimpse of Elita leaning towards the edge of the well when he fell. It was both shocking and endearing, but he was glad Bee yanked her back. It warmed his heart before pain overtook it, pain so great that it rendered him unconscious. He hadn't mentioned it to her, and he didn't think he ever would. It would be a secret to hold on to, at least for the time being.

Optimus was so engrossed in his work he didn't hear the automatic doors open. When footfalls finally reached his ears, Optimus scrambled and gathered up the data disks to the best of his ability. Elita and a few of her soldiers in training turned the corner and walked down the hall. Elita put her hands on her hips.

"And here is our leader, on the ground and sorting through old data disks like a desperate scavenger. Don't worry; he's tougher than he looks."

"That's reassuring," said one of the trainees; a pink and white female cybertronian.

Optimus cleared his throat, gave a lop-sided grin, and backed up. He dumped the data disks on a table and apologized, though it was mostly for Elita's sake. When he returned to the group, Elita gave him an amused look, but waved a hand in front of the trainees.

"This is Arcee, Smoke, and Cliffjumper. It's part of their training to visit the archives. A tactical warrior is just as powerful as a physically strong one."

"Wheeljack was part of your training program, wasn't he?" Optimus asked.

Elita rolled her eyes, and Cliffjumper answered for her, holding back a laugh. "He got bored."

"He joked about starting his own group; a group that didn't mind going the extreme," Smoke said.

He paused, then added to his statement. "Maybe it wasn't a joke."

"It definitely wasn't a joke," Arcee said.

"I'll have a talk with him later," Elita said, and Optimus nodded.

He stared at the wall just above their heads, lost in thought. Elita straightened.

"You ok?" she asked.

"What?" Optimus snapped out of it. "Oh, I'm fine."

Elita turned to address her trainees. "Meal break. Get your energon and look over some of the data this place has to offer that you think will benefit you. I want you at the station in a couple of hours; no sooner, no later. Got it?"

They nodded and obeyed; heading down the hall and turning the corner. Silence fell as their chattering grew distant.

"I said I was fine," Optimus said, attempting a laugh.

It sounded hollow.

"What's wrong, Pax?"

Optimus' shoulders dropped in surrender. When she called him that, he always felt inclined to answer, as if he were a miner under her command again. "Pax" or "Orion" would only come from her, though, and she never used it in front of others. He was to be Optimus Prime to everyone else; a title that carried authority and a great deal of weight. All cybertronian citizens were aware that their life could never be the same; many were expected to train. Really, he wasn't the only one experiencing change.

"I don't know if I can do this," Optimus blurted, clenching his fists.

"You're going to have to be more specific," Elita said.

"I'm a prime, but I've never led. I'm expected to fight in a war that hasn't begun but haunts the future. I think we both know Megatron will be back; he will want to take my place. Maybe he should."

Elita sighed and took Optimus' hand. "Come on."

Dazed, Optimus nodded. They walked down the hall and through various rooms. Neither of them let go, fingers tightly intertwined.

"Find a place where we can talk, Pax. I haven't broken in here like you have."

"Commander's orders," Optimus said, picking up the pace.

They entered a dimly lit, musky room. Elita coughed, letting go of Optimus' hand to wave her hand in front of her face. "Couldn't you have picked a better place?"

"The worst places are often the best places," Optimus said.

"Is this vagueness going to be regular thing, now? I hate it."

Optimus braced his back against a shelving unit, though it didn't contain very many data disks. With a grunt he gave a few hard shoves, and the shelving unit moved to reveal a broken door that led to a precarious platform overlooking Iacon.

"Is this how you would get in?" Elita asked, coming closer to observe.

"No; there were more dangerous entry points with small ventilation systems. I got stuck for a full twenty minutes, once."

"And to think... if you had just stayed there, we could have avoided all this chaos."

"What... and have Cybertron miss this charm?" Optimus motioned to himself.

Elita rolled her eyes, but Optimus caught a small smile. He backed up, letting her go first, and Elita stepped onto the platform and approached the edge. She leaned forward, and Optimus sucked in an inward breath, squeezing past the door frame. She sat at the edge, legs dangling. As soon as Optimus sat beside her, she spoke.

"You won't know how to lead."

Great. Another one of her "encouraging" pep talks. Elita turned her head and waited until Optimus locked eyes with her.

"What I mean is... leading can never be mastered," Elita said. "So, you need to act like you have it all figured out. Voice your fears with the ones you trust, but don't put them on public display. You're right; Megatron is out there somewhere, plotting your demise."

"I don't like the thought of preparing citizens for war," Optimus said.

"It has to be done. The few already capable fighters we have don't stand a chance."

"I know."

"We have to win," Elita said.

Silence fell. They could both agree on that. Elita put a hand on his shoulder.

"You are nothing like Megatron."

"I... try to envision him as he was. He was my greatest friend, Elita. And yet, anyone is capable of betrayal."

"You may doubt yourself, but I would never betray you. Even when I seemed your enemy, yelled at you, and -"

"Punched me in the face?" Optimus offered.

"Yes, even then, I never hated you. You were just... too ambitious and eager for my taste."

"Interesting," Optimus said, looking upwards in thought.

Elita laughed and knocked him in the shoulder, and Optimus gasped dramatically and fell, rolling closer to the edge of the platform.

"I thought you would stop punching me," Optimus groaned, finally sitting up when Elita's eyes widened, no doubt worried he might fall, or perhaps having PTSD of when he had, in fact, fallen.

"Oh, come on! That wasn't a punch," Elita said.

Optimus laughed and stood up, offering a hand. Elita took it, and he helped her up.

"What were you doing rifling through the data disks, anyway?"

"I'm trying to find what remains of Alpha Trion's wisdom. The Matrix of Leadership offers many surprises, but I'm without a mentor. I wish he were here."

"You have everything and everyone you need," Elita said.

Optimus dipped his head, and Elita placed her hands on either side of his face, lifting it back up. "I expect you to be on the training grounds this afternoon. Maybe you can convince Wheeljack to join the group."

"Would they listen to me?"

"You have an axe for a hand. How could they not?"

Optimus laughed, and Elita lowered her hands, nodding in satisfaction.

"Thanks, Elita."

"Any time, Pax."