#but like yo I cry if I have to be in uncomfortable clothing for more than an hour and I get anxiety about accidentally getting like. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

thetempleofthemasaigoddess · 1 year ago

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Meet me where the cliff greets the Sea (part 2)

Elendil x reader

Title inspired by a verse of Elan by Nightwish. NSFW!!

This part is dedicated to the amazing @montyc. Words cannot express how grateful I am!!!

*****

You have taken off your cape, but the wait at the farthest corner of the area reserved to the slaves merchants is still unpleasant, even though the heat is the least of your worries; the anxiety is eating you alive, and every minute you are forced to wait feels like a month. You have paid, the slip of parchment to certify your purchase tight in your fist, and you are reasonably sure the smiling man -this is what you are calling him in your mind; you have no idea of his real name, nor you want to know it- will keep his word to tell no one about the presence of a couple of Númenoreans within the borders of a kingdom that has more reason to hate your people than anyone else... but all the same, you cannot wait to set sail and leave Draiwen behind you...

... and even more, to have your husband back.

Seeing you idle, standing there and doing nothing, a couple of other merchants approach to show you their wares, but you gently decline, since the last thing you would be able to focus on is the cloth for a new dress, the very same colour as your eyes, mistress!, or a pair of earrings. Where is he?, you wonder as you resist the impulse of biting your nails, a girlhood habit you thought you had left behind you, why is he taking so long? The smiling man only had to have him dressed, and the enclosure is no more than twenty fathoms away; has he changed his mind, deciding that now that he has taken you coin, the best thing to do would be to call for the city guards and earn a reward out of your and Elendil’s imprisonment? It will only be safe to cry victory once you are both back in Númenor, safe at home with your people, but you are so tired, completely exhausted, after six months of fearing and crying and searching, and you have never felt more in danger than now that you are so close to what you have desperately longed for, like a starving man that is allowed to smell a delicious dish and then sees it snatched away from him...

You wait. And you wait some more, while the men of your escort whisper between them, looking at you with undisguised curiosity, which you ignore. And finally, maybe five minutes before you feel ready to burst into tears, you see a small group of men coming towards you; two of the guards of the smiling man... and between them, wearing a tattered tunic and pants that must have belonged to a man much larger than him, is your husband, his ankles and wrists free but with a fresh bruise marring his fair face, maybe a parting gift from his former master. It would be within your rights to complain, since the merchant had no permission to manhandle a slave that he had formally sold already, but, as much as the mere sight fills you with rage, you force yourself to keep silent.

"Mistress." Elendil greets you, bowing his head as is proper for a slave, and there is no need to pretend anymore, since he is now formally yours -he is, you think as your heart fills with a fierce, greedy possessiveness, he has been yours ever since the two of you met, he belongs to you and you will never let him go- and truth to be told, the mere thought of you as a slave-owner makes you more than a little uncomfortable, but that little farce you are playing appears to amuse your husband, given the small smile hidden in the curve of his lips.

You quickly, and brusquely, dismiss the guards, and then, not caring about what the men escorting you will think, you slip your arm under Elendil’s, just like when you walk together in the streets of Armenelos, or along the shoreline of your favourite beach; you are finally touching him, solid and strong and real, for the first time in six months, and the relief you feel is so intense it makes your knees weak.

“Do not cry, please.” Elendil’s deep, musical voice brushes against your cheek, and you had already spoken, while in the enclosure in front of the smiling man, but this is different, this is personal and intimate and it feels like a cup of cold water after the worst thirst of your life; he is barely able to keep his composure, his deep blue eyes full of bittersweet joy, relief and pain meshed in one “Do not cry, my love; I am here, and I swear I will never leave your side again.”

“I will remind you of this promise, husband.” you tell him, mock-serious to hide the emotion in your heart; you hate crying, especially in public... even when it is tears of joy you are shedding “Now, let us go.”

You do not talk anymore as you hurry in the direction to reach the harbour; Elendil looks straight ahead, as if determined to leave the memories of the last six months behind him together with the marketplace, and his grip on your arm is firmer than usual, both possessive and scared, and when you rest your free hand on his, silently attempting to comfort and reassure him, your husband looks at you, almost not daring to think he is finally safe.

“I will bring you home.” you whisper; Eru preserve you, you would be ready to set the whole city on fire if it meant making sure he is safe “I promise, Elendil. It is over; you can rest now.”

A nod is the only answer you receive, and when you reach the ship he -an army officer, a Sea Guard captain, a nobleman, a father; a man, in short, for whom assuming leadership and giving orders is almost second nature, as instinctive as breathing- remains silent by your side and lets you take charge. In another moment, that choice that speaks of trust in you and your abilities, would have made you proud; now, instead, it is pain and compassion that fill your heart, and a surge of protectiveness you had not felt ever since your children were small.

The ship captain is playing dice on a table with two of his crewmembers, apparently winning given the displeased expressions of the others. When he sees your little group approach he stands to meet you, and he looks at you, and Elendil, and the way you cling to each other; he asks no questions, however, because the situation is clear enough, or perhaps simply because he does not care.

“May I dismiss your escort, mistress?”

“You may, captain; my thanks for lending them to me.” you answer, and the two men who accompanied you quickly move to join their friends at the game table “We will have to depart immediately.”

The man’s face clouds. “Immediately? That is not possible.”

“I paid for you to bring me to Draiwen and then back home.”

“And I will, I have given you my word. But we worked tirelessly to take you to your destination in the shortest time possible, and I expect you will want an equally fast trip on the way back. My men deserve a night of rest; worse, they will demand it, and I will have a mutiny at my hands.”

He is serious, determined, not to mention much bigger than you, but while you feel Elendil stiffen at your side, you remain calm, betraying none of the turmoil and the impatience that stir in your heart; with your husband by your side, there is nothing you feel unable to face, especially if the obstacle to overcome is a simple man whose weak point you have already identified.

"I am sure a capable captain such as yourself will be able to control his crew and put them to work." you answer, voice devoid of flattery, as you hold his gaze more than he is probably used to when his interlocutor is a woman "And I will pay you double what we agreed if you are able to set sail before sunset; I am sure your men will appreciate it, if you decide to share it. And, please have a bath prepared in my cabin; there is no need to warm the water, but the bigger the tub, the better."

The pressure on your arm softens marginally; you do not look at Elendil, but you perceive his approval, and his sincere merriment, like a sweet caress on your cheek.

Eru, you have missed him so much.

"Are we in agreement, captain?"

A sigh; he is not happy, and he must know his men will not be either, but he is avid enough to decide to take the risk, for a doubled fee.

"We are in agreement, mistress."

*****

You both remain silent as you cross the ship's bridge and go below deck. The sailors, who during the journey have looked at you with ill-concealed curiosity and allusive smiles, snicker behind your back and exchange knowing looks, convinced that you have bought a slave at the market to warm your bed, and that tonight you will put your new property to work. They have no idea about the truth, how could they? But you do not care; let them joke about you, and wonder why you had to cross the Sea to buy a slave to satisfy your needs, instead of looking for what you needed in a whorehouse. Let them wonder whether you have a husband you are betraying, and what your preferences in the alcove are. You do not care; you care about nothing, but the tall, handsome man who keeps glancing at you as you cross the corridor below deck, as if he feared to see you disappear like a dream at dawn.

"It is here." you whisper as you reach the cabin you have been given by the captain, empty but for a bed -small, especially since you will be sharing it with your husband; but squeezing together has never been a problem, or a sacrifice, for the two of you- a single chair, the tiniest, least stable table you have ever seen, and a couple of shelves on the wall; the bag with your belongings is on the floor, next to the only friend who has accompanied you on the expedition: a messenger bird in his cage, his feathers cloud-white, softly cooing. The rolling on the ship is quiet, given the calm Sea that has helped you reach your destination faster than you had hoped; you are used to it, so much you barely notice it anymore. How could you not, since you are the wife of a captain of the Sea Guard?

Elendil does not speak as you push the door open, precede him inside and then close it; you turn, and finally you are face to face, alone, free to abandon whatever pretenses you have had to keep, and you never had to doubt your husband's love and devotion, not even during the occasional falling out or when he was away at Sea for months at a time, but for some reason now you are the one who lacks the courage to touch him... as if you feared to lose him now that you have finally found him.

"Wife." he whispers in the end, and that simple word, the reverent, intimate tone of that voice that has always had the power to make you shiver in such a pleasant way, is the last push that opens the floodgates in your heart. You cannot, nor you want to, resist anymore, be strong anymore, even if you were not alone, and the tears start running along your cheeks before you even realise you are about to cry, and this time Elendil does not ask you not to, knowing that sometimes it is better to simply express the pain, to get it out in order to depure one's body and mind. Wordlessly, he takes you in his arms, and a moment later you are held in the safety of his embrace, his tired, abused and weakened body still a source of peace and comfort, and you hold on to him, like the victim of a shipwreck who clings to a rock in the middle of a storm, and you should be the one to comfort him, not the other way around, but you cannot help it, and the beauty of what you shared is that you are both made stronger by the closeness. He kisses your brow while you hide your face against his shoulder, and the simple sensation of being in his arms, so special and unique, makes you feel free to breathe for the first time in six months.

"You found me." he whispers. He is holding you so tight it hurts, but you do not mind; in fact, you like it "You searched for me, you found me, and you took me away. I should have expected the Sea Guard, or the army... But no. It was you. I knew you would come. I felt it, in my heart."

"You would have done the same for me." you whisper back; Eru, it is so pleasant to feel his heart beat close to yours "That you are a soldier and a mariner and I am not makes no difference. We had promised we would spend the rest of our lives together; worse things than a war and slavery would have to occur before I let you forget your promise, husband."

"Eru preserve me, I must be married to the most overbearing woman in all of Arda..."

He looks at you; he smiles, happy and reassuring. "Are our children well?"

"They are, even though they have missed you as much as I have. They helped me, and spared no effort in searching for you. Isildur and Anarion wished to accompany me, but I did not allow them."

Your husband clearly does not approve, but he does not comment; he knows how dangerous what you did was, and he knows it would be pointless, not to mention hypocrite, to reprimand you. "I am so glad to see you." he murmurs as he hugs you once more; he kisses you again, not on your forehead this time "Let us go home."

The captain, while unhappy with your demands, is able to keep his men in check, perhaps bribing them with the promise of a reward in gold, and when the ship finally sets sail, driven forward by a favorable wind that definitely was not there an hour before, the sun has not yet completely disappeared behind the horizon. You look out of the tiny window of the cabin, and you see the land of Draiwen slipping away behind you; you sigh, suddenly missing your children and picturing how happy they will be when your family will be whole, once more.

Elendil is still too tense to sleep, but he spends a few minutes resting on the bed -much less comfortable than the one you share at home; still, it is a vast improvement from the lodgings he had been forced to in the house of the smiling man- while you retrieve your writing utensils from your bag and write a brief message to your children, announcing that their father is alive and the two of you are already on the way home. You then tie the tiny piece of parchment to the leg of the messenger bird that you have released from his cage, and then let him take flight out of the tiny window; it will take at least a week for the ship to reach Númenor, but if luck assists you your children will receive the message within a day, and they will be able to stop fearing for their father’s health.

Land is still barely visible on the horizon when two men come carrying the wooden tub and then buckets with the water for the bath you have requested; they work quickly and efficiently, glancing curiously to your husband, who looks back at them, impassible.

“They believe you have bought a slave for your bed.” he realizes once you are alone once more, and you shrug your shoulders, utterly disinterested.

“Now, let us not waste time. The bath is for you; you better get in as soon as possible.”

“Are you saying I smell, wife?” Elendil asks, a light smile on his lips.

“I most certainly do, husband. And fear not, I have everything we need.”

You brought clothes for Elendil from home, tunic and trousers and boots and even his favorite cape, a shade of blue similar to the one of his Sea Guard uniform; during a brief stop on the way to Draiwen, as the captain sent his men to buy provisions, water and other necessities, you purchased soap of good quality, a razor and even a pair of scissors, knowing your husband, who while not vain is very particular about his appearance, would have appreciated it.

“Sensible woman.” Elendil says with a smile, a moment before starting to undress. He lets out a sigh of relief as he lowers himself in the tub, the cool water pleasant against his skin. He has lost weight, you notice with a surge of grief, and a number of small wounds and bruises mar his fair skin; but the worst is his back, carrying the signs of something that makes you regret you did not use your dagger on the smiling man, while you were in his tent.

You sit on the floor of the cabin next to the tub. “You have been whipped.” you whisper as you brush your fingers against the ugly red gashes -four of them, clearly recent- under his shoulder-blades; Elendil stiffens, as if that simple contact were still painful “Forgive me; it is just... oh, my love, what have they done to you?”

He smiles sadly, as he turns to take your hand and kiss the back. “As the master told you, I attempted to incite the other slaves to rebel; it did not work, and I was punished.” he explains “Worry not, I have suffered worse.”

“That does not comfort me, actually...”

You fall silent as you look at your husband wash dirt, grime and sweat away from his body, the soap diffusing a pleasant aroma in the tiny cabin; he seems content, even happy, because of that simple pleasure, and that brings a smile on your face.

“Let me.” you offer when he is about to wash his hair, and just like at home, Elendil obediently lowers himself in the tub until his head is immersed -which is easier said than done, when one’s legs are as long as his- and then re-emerges, and you, now kneeling behind him, rub the soap between your hands and begin washing his hair with it.

“Oh... oh, yes.” Elendil groans as he feels your fingertips massaging his scalp, your fingers carding among the long dark locks “This is so nice... Yes, that spot there...”

“Elendil, I have washed your hair ever since we got married, and you still sound... like that.” you observe smiling.

“I cannot help it if I appreciate your ministrations. It is good that you brought scissors; I have to cut my hair.”

“If you must; I have to admit long hair does become you. You can wash it away now.”

He complies, and then turns to look at you, quickly washing the soap away from your fingers. You hands meet above the rim of the tub; your fingers interwine, the simple, chaste contact filling your heart with comfort.

“What happened to you?” you whisper “I am sorry, I know this is the last thing you want to think about, but...”

“... but you have to know. I understand.”

Your husband sighs. “There is not much to say, if truth be told.” he admits, and he tells you that when Númenor’s army had achieved victory against the people of Draiwen, Elendil, being exhausted but unscathed, had volunteered for the sad task of retrieving the bodies of the fallen, so that even the lowest soldiers could be returned to their loved ones and laid to rest at home. He and a dozen of comrades had ventured to the farthest corner of the battlefield, looking for those among the dead who wore the colours of their homeland and loading them on a cart; almost half a day had passed since the end of the battle and the enemy army had been allowed to withdraw, but the soldiers were still wary, fearing some of the survivors had stayed behind.

They were right. Elendil was helping two of his men lift the body of a soldier from the ground when a group of Draiwenians led by an officer had swooped down on them, swords drawn.

“The officer was... the brother of the man you bought me from; they had an arrangement, that his brother would make sure to capture one or more men each time he went to war, either seizing them on the battlefield or retrieving the wounded later on, and give them to the merchant in exchange for a sum of gold. He had seen us hiding behind an uprooted chariot, and decided we were exactly what he needed. Two of my men were killed during the confrontation; me and five more were taken captive. Two days later we reached the capital... and we met our new master.”

A wince of pain, more emotional than physical and because of this even more aching, appears on your husband’s face as he remembers his meeting with the smiling man; finding himself face to face with Melkor himself would probably have been less unpleasant.

From that day on, the men of Númenor had joined the other slaves of the master, living in his house on the outskirts of the capital. Once a fortnight, they were brought to the marketplace to be inspected by potential buyers; a few prominent individuals also visited the master at home, for a private showing. More often, the slaves were lent for a fee to farmers, head-bricklayers or mine owners, the arrangement cheaper than free workers’ wage. The master had power of life and death over them; the guards abused and mistreated them out of simple pleasure every time they could. Two of your husband’s comrades were sold mere days after their capture, and two more in the following months; he never knew what had become of them. The last had been killed in a mining accident, only days past.

“So you were the only one left.” you sumrise, shaken as you realize how lucky you have been; had the smiling man sold Elendil as it had happened to his friends, you doubt he would have told you how to find his new owner, and your husband could have been lost forever “I am so sorry, I... I did not even think about asking for your comrades, I would have gladly ransomed them as well...”

“I know you would have. Do not blame yourself, I am afraid they are lost forever.”

Your husband sighs; tiny drops of water run along his naked body, a sight you would normally find alluring, but right now you cannot help thinking how fragile he looks, and wonder how long it will take him to leave that nightmare behind. “I think he liked me; the master. He found me... interesting, in some way, but that did not make my life easier; quite the opposite. I think he had... challenged himself to find a way to break my spirit; hunger, torture, isolation...”

“Oh, Elendil...”

“I do not deserve to complain, and you should not either. I am still alive; so many cannot say the same.”

He smiles, his blue eyes full of sadness and courage. “I never lost hope; I felt, even when pain and loneliness and hopelessness were about to overwhelm me... I felt that one day, somehow, I would see you again.” he confides “That is why I tried so hard to escape, because I knew that was not the end. And then I saw you; I felt the same as when I was a child and I woke up screaming from a nightmare, and my mother would come and take me in her arms; the same relief. I felt... safe.”

How many men would be capable, let alone willing, to utter those words? To betray not an ounce of regret and embarassment at being saved by a woman, and not simply because anything is better than slavery? Not many, surely, even in an enlightened society like Númenor; but Elendil is different, Elendil has never seen you as anything but his equal, in the intimacy of your relationship and in the open. He never took a decision before consulting you; he never asked you for something he would not give himself. He trusts you, your lord husband, and he thinks highly of you, not only as a lover and an homemaker, but also as the other part of him... a part he can entrust his heart, his possessions, and his very life to, knowing they would be kept safe. You would have not accepted his proposal otherwise, no matter how desperately in love you were with him and even though many women are content with less... and today, finally, you have shown him; you proved that he was right in trusting you.

“There is nothing I would not have done to find you and set you free.” you murmur; you can see he is getting cold, since the water was not warm to begin with, but even though he knows already you want him to hear that... to hear that no one, not even Eru himself, would have kept you away “No danger, no humiliation; I would have gladly sold my body to take you home; I would have died, and killed, to make sure you were safe.”

“I would not have asked you that.”

“But you would have done it, had our places be exchanged; or am I mistaken? And because of this, how could I not do everything within my power and more?”

If there is any fault in that reasoning your husband cannot find it, because he smiles, this time out of pure happiness. “How beautiful you are.” he says as he lifts your chin with his fingers, and you smile, as flattered as the first time you heard him utter those words, and then you close your eyes, because your husband is kissing you, and that deserves your full attention and participation.

You are shivering.

“Dress yourself, now.” you urge him then, as you stand and hand him a towel, another thing you brought with you from home “I will go find us something to eat.”

*****

The fare on the ship is not exactly what you would eat during a banquet at the palace, but the food on the pewter dishes you have collected from the galley is edible all the same; you have gotten used to it during the voyage to Draiwen, while Elendil had even worse during his captivity... and on a few of the ships he served on. Unhurriedly you eat, you sitting on the chair and he on the bed in front of you, sharing a jug of horrible wine and smiling at each other above the food, your feet touching under the tiny table.

"This reminds me of when we were courting." your husband mentions after a while, his voice full of affection "When we could not share a meal unless we were chaperoned by our parents, and the most we could do was look at each other and hold hands under the table."

"It was for our own good; to preserve the good name of our families. Had I gotten pregnant then, it would have been the end of all our dreams."

Elendil's large shoulders shrug, the perfect image of carefreeness. "We would have managed; it was already in our plans, to marry and raise a family. It would have simply happened a little earlier than we imagined."

You smile at the thought; it was frustrating back then, being unable to spend even just a few minutes with your beloved without the presence of one of your parents, but that only made being finally alone, in your home, more special... a goal you had reached together, out of your own free choice and not because there was a new life growing in your belly.

"My mother would have killed me. And my father would have killed you."

Elendil looks at you, feigning outrage. "But they adored me...!"

You share a grin, and return eating, and a few minutes later you are pushing the table with the tableware at the other side of the cabin, you both slip off your boots, and you reach your husband on the bed.

He happily welcomes you in his arms, lowering the both of you on the hard mattress as your bodies find each other, as they instinctively have done ever since your first hug, with ease and urge at the same time, the different shape of your flesh and his moulding against each other, so tight you can no longer discern where you end and he begins. Elendil's warm, solid body is a rock, an armor and a roaring fire all in one, and you contentedly snuggle against him as you let yourself be lulled by his heartbeat.

Not lulled to sleep, clearly; you had intentions for tonight, intentions that include a lack of clothes, and your husband's heavy and warm body above yours.

"How much did you have to pay to ransom me?" Elendil asks, his finger lazily drawing letters and shapes on the skin of your belly.

"Uhm... Not much. Less than I was willing to, surely."

"Really?" your husband asks, skepticism clear in his voice, and you smile as you twist a lock of his dark hair around your fingers; he looks very handsome with a longer mane, you must admit "Would you be relieved, or disgruntled? To know that the merchant did not ask for much."

He shrugs. "I was curious, that is all."

"It was an average price for a slave, I think. I do not know how we will feed ourselves, and our children, for the rest of the year, of course, but that is not important... I am jesting! Merely jesting, Elendil, do not worry." you laugh as you look at the dismayed grimace on his fair face "If you really want to know, I paid eighty gold pieces; reasonable enough, I think, from the little I know on the topic. Now, why do you not stop talking, and show me how happy you are to see me, as it is proper?"

He obeys, turning on the bed until you are laying under him, your fingers still hidden in his hair as his breath brushes against your cheek; he remains like that for a moment, his mouth an inch from yours as if he wanted to savour that moment, and

"Elendil, please." you whine, like you had not done perhaps since Isildur was born; your heart beats furiously, out of anticipation and simple, pure need, and you are certain that if you do not kiss him now, and soundly, something terrible will happen... You could be interrupted, for example. "Husband, please, I need you..."

He needs you as well, he needs you now like he has never needed you before, and it does not matter if every noise you make, every moan or stifled cry, will be heard and correctly interpreted by the crew. Let them hear, let them joke, let them be envious - he is fine with it; he and his beloved wife are together once more, and nothing else on all Arda matters.

Part of Elendil is tempted to rush, to get you both out of your clothes so that he can finally slip between your thighs, but no; this is not what you deserve, and while you have the whole night -and the many days to come, since it will take a while to reach Númenor- at your disposal, he wants to savour every second, and every moan and sigh escaping from your pretty lips, to make sure he deserves your love and devotion.

He lowers himself on you slowly, feeling you stop breathing for a moment, such is the anticipation of that simple touch you have experienced so many times after the first, sitting on a rock on one of Armenelos' many beaches, the sun warm on your skin and your chapped lips sweet against his. Since then it has never lost meaning, no matter how lazy or chaste those kisses where, and those you will exchange now will be neither of those things, Elendil has promised himself.

You immediately kiss him back, the tiny moan of pleasure eliciting a grin out of him; he peppers your face with kisses, your cheek and forehead and even your nose, and now you are the one laughing. "You are such a child." you gently reprimand him, and Elendil grins, propping himself on an arm next to your face, and then he kisses you once more, and no one is laughing anymore.

Your mouth is warm as Elendil takes possession of it, and his tongue finds yours, your whole body surging to press against his, your warm flesh and the delicious curves he has caressed and molded under his hands so many times making him groan. "Woman, you do not know what you do to me..."

"I want you, Elendil." you whisper back; you have already, completely lost control, so pure and open in your desire, and the beauty of you simply lying there, trusting and devoted and simply blissfully happy to be together once more, breaks his heart “I want you so much, my husband... please... I need to feel you...”

He happily complies, kissing you once more and easily parting your lips to deepen the contact; you both moan, breathless, when your tongue meet, and your body is almost writhing against his, desperately searching for a deeper contact, for any form of friction, for any source of relief against the need that is roaring inside you. You will have it; you will have all of him, you will have so much you will fear you will die of it, but you will be satisfied, and those six months you have spent apart will feel as a bad dream you have left behind.

“I love you.” he murmurs; you know already, and he knows those feelings are reciprocated, but the exhilaration of uttering those simple words never ceases to make his heart tremble... it feels like flying “I love you so much, wife...”

Your eyes are shining; you have never been more beautiful, and perfect, and radiant. “I love you too, my lord husband; I am yours, do what... oh... oh, Elendil...!”

That last moan -almost a cry, in reality, barely stifled by a hand pressed to your mouth; Elendil grins, promising to himself he will make you scream, unrestrained and so loud the whole ship will hear you, before the night is over- is due to his mouth moving from yours to your neck. There is a tiny point on the side of your throat that always makes stars explode behind your eyelids, and Elendil takes advantage of it; he mercilessly sucks on the tender flesh, eliciting sounds you would be normally be so embarassed of uttering, and he feels your heart pounding as he licks on your pulse, the lascivious contact leaving goosebumps on the flesh of both.

You are now cradling his head in your hands, your fingers playing with the hair he might decide not to cut, at least for a while, and he feels your laugh in your chest when he moves once more to press his mouth against the delicate flesh of your bosom.

“Hmmm, here is a part of you I have sorely missed...”

“Oh, you are horrible...!”

There is something akin to devotion in the way he kisses your breasts, soft and warm, and you appear to appreciate it, because you make quick work of the knots on the front of your dress, slipping the cloth off your shoulders to bare your chest.

“Oh, yes... oh, Eru, yes, Elendil, just like that...” you sigh; you are pressing your hips against his, hard enough to make him feel how wet you are “Do not stop, my love, do not stop...”

He has no intention to, and he makes it clear when he makes sure you are looking at him and then he drags his tongue against your left nipple, and he smiles when he sees you sigh; a moment later he has closed his lips around it, your hand still on his head as if to stop him from leaving -there is no need, obviously; but it is nice to feel you petting his hair- while Elendil plays with your chest, gently biting the tender flesh and then sucking on your nipples, relentless in that sweet torture that is making him harder than he ever remembers being. This is nice, this is so amazing, to worship your beautiful body like the queen you are, you who in his eyes are more beautiful and perfect than one of the Valië and deserve to be pleasured accordingly, but he wants more, he needs more, he needs to forget everything he is and has done, and to lose himself in your welcoming warmth. No woman has ever been like you, no one he has ever loved and cared for like you, and no one has ever loved him with the same devotion, the same fierce protectiveness and jealousy, like you; he would gladly give his life for yours, and every time your lie together, every kiss, every simple touch, makes him remember how fortunate he has been.

You are together again, free, safe, and soon you will be home with your children. Eru, what else could he want... apart from making love to you until the ship docks at Armenelos’ harbor?

“You do not... ah... plan on spending the whole night playing with my breast, do you?” you asks after a while; you are clearly enjoying his ministrations, but given the way your hands have started moving on his body, desperately touching and caressing any part of him you can reach, that will not satisfy your needs “We are not longer fifteen years old, Elendil.”

“Why, what did you do when you where fifteen, my wife?” he jokes, and then he offers you his hand to sit up, and immediately kisses you once more. “Shall I help you with your dress, my darling?”

He does, once you have stood from the bed and he is sitting on the side. He cannot help but grin as he looks at you disrobing, the dress falling in a circle of fabric around your naked feet. You are not wearing a shift, on account of the warm day, and in a moment your underclothes are likewise out of the way, so that you are finally nude, beautiful and radiant in front of him; there is no shyness in you -whatever ounce of modesty once existed in your body happily disappeared once you have become a married woman- but only a tiny, satisfied smile on your lips betrays the awareness of the effect you have on your husband. Elendil looks at you, and so many years, not to mention three children, have passed since the first time he held you in his arms, but one thing at least has not changed: your beauty still moves him to tears.

“You are so beautiful.” he murmurs, and there are no words in any language on Arda that can express what he feels, but he tries all the same, “Vanimelda, meleth nin.”, and he sees you smile.

“I love you so much, husband.” you murmur, and you waste no time in reaching him, resting your arms on Elendils’s shoulders as his arms circle your waist, holding you close. You kiss again, your mouths searching for and finding each other as Elendil’s hands move on your warm skin; he is too dressed for what you are about to do, and your hands slip under the hem of his tunic, and Elendil is only too happy to help you take it off. You share a grin, but his expression turns to confusion as he finally notices something is off.

“Where is your necklace?” he asks, wondering how he did not realize it was missing the moment he started kissing your neck; ever since he gifted it to you, the thin silver chain has been part of your body as much as your hair or hands. You might have lost it, of taken it off after the clasp had broken, but something tells Elendil the reason is different... “The one with the pearl.”

“I...”

“What is wrong? I will not be disappointed if you decided to take it off, but...”

“No, that is not it.” you quickly answer, not bearing to have him think you have simply gotten bored with your most precious possession, the one thing that gave you some small amount of comfort while you were apart “Believe me, I never could; it is just...”

“Yes?”

“Please, do not ask me; Elendil, you are here with me, nothing else matters...”

He whispers your name, quiet, as if he were facing a skittish horse ready to bolt at the least sign of danger. “Please, be honest, as we have always been. What has happened?”

You sigh, and there is shame on your face as you confess that the slave master demanded you let him have the necklace, in exchange for him. “I... I told him it was worth much less than I could offer in gold, that the necklace was only precious to me... but that was exactly why he wanted it. I offered him fivehundred gold pieces; he said no. Either I gave it to him, or he would not give me you. I... I know it makes no sense...”

But it does, at least for an heartless man who enjoys making others miserable, and Elendil has hated his master ever since they met, but now, and despite the relief he has felt knowing that he would never see him again, he is ready to order the ship to stop and return to Draiwen, and risk being captured again to face the man who humiliated his wife.

“I will kill him; with my bare hands.” he promises; put aside are the love, the passion, the relief, Elendil is ready forget his honour and the promise he made to himself to never spill blood if he does not have to, and make sure the smiling man rues the day he slighted his beloved wife “I will force him to beg for mercy at you feet, I will make him regret the day he was born.”

“No, Elendil.”

“Oh, yes. I will speak to the captain, we will be back in Draiwen by dawn, and then...”

“No, Elendil.” you repeat, more forcefully this time, taking his hands in yours; you are living such a beautiful, precious and intimate moment, and you hate wasting it talking and arguing, but you are determined to leave that experience behind you, and your husband’s rage, albeit righteous, would only make him put his life and freedom at risk a second time “Please; let us forget about it. I am saddened as well, more than I could explain, but nothing is more important than having you here; there is nothing I would not have done or given him to make sure you were safe, and back here with me. It is unfair, I know; but we are together, and nothing is more important than this.”

Your husband sighs, still unhappy as he takes your head in his hands and kisses your forehead - a chaste, loving gesture that fills your heart with comfort. “I would offer to buy you a new necklace...”

“... but it would not be the same; I know. Do not be sad; you gave me so many splendid gifts since we began courting, and I do not need material possessions to remember what we share, or to feel you close to my heart. Please, let us stop talking about it. I want you, and I want you to show me how much you have missed me.”

Still unhappy, your husband smiles nonetheless, and slowly lowers his eyes on your naked body, as if anticipating everything he is going to do to you. “As my mistress commands.” he answers in that deep, musical voice of his that still makes you feel like the girl whose heart trembled the first time he held her hand “What is it that you want? What would make you happy?”

You tell him that you are already happy, given that he is there with you, and the thing you would like the most is to touch his body without the hindrance of his clothes.

“That can be arranged.”

The clothes you had lovingly taken from his dresser at home, guessing that whatever you would find him wearing would be dirty, ragged, and in any case not right for him, slowly fall from the bed to keep your dress and underclothes company. You help him take off his tunic, and you waste no time in kissing the skin you have just brought to light; your husband laughs softly as you let your lips wander, from his shoulders to his collarbone to his pectorals, lingering there long enough to return the favour and deliver a sweet, excruciating torture on his nipples, using your lips and your tongue and even your teeth to force a series of moans out of him. You have been married, and intimate, for so long, and this has given you a complete and perfect knowledge of what arouses and pleases your husband, and now you put that skill to work to show him how you missed him, how you love him, and how happy and grateful you are to have him by your side.

He whispers your name, he moans and begs and prays, torn between pain and desire. “Please... please, my love...”

“Please what, dear husband?” you candidly ask; he is lying on the bed with you kneeling between his spread legs, his torso partially lifted to meet your gaze, frustrated and aroused by the proximity-but-not-quite-contact with your naked body. His pleading blue eyes speak better than his musical voice ever could... but you must admit, it is pleasant to hear him admit what effect you have on him.

“My darling, I... I need to take you. Please, I... it has been so long... I need to be inside you. So warm ad beautiful and tight... please, darling, I cannot wait, I do not know how long I can resist...”

It would be torture to deny him, even just for a few minutes, and at least in this occasion, you decide to take pity on him - a little bit; you lower your mouth along his abdomen until you meet his navel, which you kiss and suck while you start taking care of his trousers, careful not to touch the turgor underneath.

“Lift.” you order, and your husband obediently raises his hips to let you take off the rest of his clothes; he is finally naked, his erection proudly raised in front of you, heavy and hard and so perfect for you... and once you have abandoned your husband’s trousers on the floor, you observe it, your hand lazily caressing the heat between your legs, but without touching him at all.

Your husband looks at you, appalled. “Woman, what are you doing?”

“Looking at you. Should I not? You are very handsome. I enjoy looking at you.”

“Should you not do more than simply admiring me?”

“Hmmm, perhaps...”

He glares at you, menancing and at the same time unable to hide the effect having you there, naked, touching yourself, has on him; you smile sweetly, and then you rest your hand on his ankle, slowly moving it upward along his leg, and then his thigh, and then finally you are wrapping your fingers around Elendil’s erection, already wet with pre-come, and when you caress the tip with your thumb as you move your hand up and down along the shaft, a litany of cries and invocations leaves your husband’s mouth. He is thoroughly enjoying your ministrations, and he deserves to be taken care of, after everything he has been through, and this is why you keep working him for a while, and there is so much you would like to do -take him in your mouth to suck him until he can no longer remember his name, sit on his face and let him use his tongue to make you climax, having him use his long and callous fingers to penetrate you as you kiss- and you will, because it will take you many days to reach Númenor, and what better way you could find to pass the time? But by now, as pleasant as it is to torture him denying him his relief, you cannot wait to have him inside you, sharing your pleasure and your bodies like you have done so many times before. You need him, just like you need air to live; and you will have him, and he will have you, so much time will stop flowing.

He is panting by the time you stop, bending to kiss the tip of his shaft before you lie on the bed next to him; your husband’s hand quickly rests on your hip, warm, possessive, as the two of you gaze in each others’s eyes.

“How do you want me?” you ask, and you have never seen a live wolf, but the grin your husband answers your question with is positively predatory.

“Above me. Please, mistress.”

“As you wish.”

You share a new kiss, your legs interwining and Elendil’s shaft pleasantly pressing against you, before your husband wraps his arm around your waist and turns on his back, pulling you above him; you smile, finding a comfortable position with your knees pressing on the bed on either side of his hips, and you move your hands up and down his chest, still unable to quite believe he is safe, and with you, and that he has chosen you to entrust his heart.

Ulmo, what have you done to be so fortunate?

The ship is rolling under the bed, the oscillatory movement making you feel as if you were being rocked in a cradle; silence has fallen on the cabin, the shadows of the night surrounding you. You see Elendil hold his breath as you take him, slowly welcoming him inside you as you lower yourself on his shaft, and he was right, you are tight, as tight as you were during your wedding night, and you have no idea why, since you have been together so many times in the many years of your marriage, but you do not mind, quite the opposite, because feeling your husband inside you is so nice, so delicious, every inch of him slowly penetrating your flesh with a sensation that is not pain, not exactly, and if you are moaning, and crying, it is because every part of you, your very body and soul together, is singing, and the wave is already mounting inside you, the friction between your bodies making you feel as if your flesh were on fire. Any ounce of self-control is vanishing in the face of something so natural and common and at the same time precious and special. You are a lock and your husband is the key, a source of pleasure and intimacy and harmony, and it is his heart you love, and his mind, his bravery and kindness and sincerity, and that is important as well, because you would not know how to -oh yes Elendil, oh Eru my love yes like this, do not stop, do not stop- how to explain it, but the love you share makes moments like this even more intense, because he is yours and you are his, and no one, no one in all of Arda, would ever give you what he does.

"Eru, you are glorious." your husband whispers in awe. He is looking at you as if in a trance, almost bewitched by the sight of your body dancing above his, the warmth and the tightness so familiar and still able to make him lose his mind; you are so perfect for him, a source of companionship and affection and support and pleasure, and he will never renounce you, he will defend you with his life if need be, and the way you moan his name is almost enough to make him come.

He holds your hips in his hands, fierce and avid in his desire, and he is almost close to his relief when he finally sees you reach yours. "Elendil!" you scream - a real, piercing scream, loud enough to be heard by the whole ship, but you do not care, because your husband has taken your hand to draw you to him, and when he takes your face in his hands and kisses you, now is when you finally come, your body surrendering to the storm of pleasure and sensation while Elendil's strong arms keep you close, because he is not sated with you yet, and he never will be.

"I love you so much." you moan, light-headed and shivering, and that is the moment when he finally follows you beyond the brink, your words the sparkle of a destructive fire, and Elendil is beautiful in his pleasure, his strong body gasping and writhing for the sweet, sensual torture the union of your bodies have given birth to, his hips slapping against yours as he desperately tries to extend your bliss.

"Wife... My wife... How I love you, how... You are so beautiful..." he pants, and when your eyes meet he smiles, and you smile back, humbled and happy, and hold on to him as hard as you can.

*****

Your husband’s scream pierces the room, and unlike those that preceded it until only an hour ago, it does not express pleasure or relief, rather a deep, excruciating fear, that immediately wakes you... and fills you with alarm.

“Elendil! Elendil, stop it, it is all right.” you pray trying to calm him, but at first, he does not seem to hear you; still naked as the day he was born, he is sitting on the bed, hands clenched into fists, eyes wide open and facing horrors only he can see, shaking out of fear. His nightmares -because that must have been the reason for his state; what else?- have brought him so far from the intimacy you are sharing, so far even from you, that when you rest a hand on his shoulder, he reacts in alarm, jolting and instinctively raising his hands to protect himself - or to attack.

“Elendil, my love. No one is hurting you; it is me. You are safe.”

“Safe...?” he repeats, slowly, as if he did not comprehend the meaning of that simple word; he is tense, like a warrior facing the enemy army approaching, and when you cautiously take his hands in yours, it seems to take him a while to even recognize you.

“Yes; safe.” you reassure him, heart full of pity but forcing yourself to smile “I freed you, remember? You are no longer a slave.”

Finally, he relaxes, fully awake once more, and sighs. “I am sorry if I scared you, and I awoke you." he apologizes as he passes an hand in his untamed hair; there was no real need for the blanket you have spread on the bed before both of you fell asleep, since the night is warm, but your husband shivers, as if he were naked under the snow “I had... a bad dream.”

“As I thought. Do you... do you wish to talk about it?”

He shakes his hand, determined, as if he wished nothing less. “I am all right; nightmares cannot hurt me, can they not?” he reasons, as he lies on the bed once more, lifting the blanket to let you join him “Once we will be back in Númenor, I will feel better; I only have to leave this... period... behind me.”

“There is no shame in suffering, Elendil." you consider, taking his hand in yours “Especially when someone has been abused and enslaved, like you are.”

He sighs, the dark mane of his hair falling in rivulets on his chest and shoulders. “I know, but the more I keep thinking about it, the harder it will be to return to my life, and to appreciate what I have. I... I cannot promise I will sleep well from now on, but I know that the moment I am back home, it will be the period I have spent as a slave in Draiwen that will feel like a bad dream.”

You snuggle under the blanket, holding each other as your husband sweetly kisses your forehead, making you smile. "Any nightmare you will have to face, I will be here to wake you up." you reassure him; you can feel his heart beat close to yours, calm and strong and steady, and you think about how nice it will be, to fall asleep to that sound "And if that is the type of nightmare that strikes during the day... we will face it together. I promise."

Elendil smiles back. "With you by my side, my wife." he murmurs "I will never fear anything."

"You will keep that in mind, husband." you caution him, and then you hold him in your arms until you both fall asleep.

TAGGING @starlady66 and @hippodameia.

#The Lord of the Rings #The Lord of the Rings: The Rings of Power #The Rings of Power #Rings of Power #Elendil #Elendil the Tall #Elendil x reader #Lloyd Owen #Bellona's stuff

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stuffymcstuffsworld · 1 year ago

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Ellie's contract

When Ellie woke up, the first thing that registered in her mind was 'soft?' Her bed wasn't soft it was a lumpy ten year old mattress. Cautiously, she opened her eyes. This was definitely not her bed, and this was definitely not her room.

Long dark curtains covered large windows, and the furniture from what she could make out in the dim light of the room was fancy. Antique? The warm sheets covering her almost compled her to go back to sleep. Instead, she crawled out of the sheets feet landing on what felt like the softest carpet in the world.

Shaking her head, she tried to focus. This was not the time to be lost in luxury. She has to figure out where exactly she had ended up. The door slowly crept open, and she snapped her head in that direction only to see....

A cat? Or something that looked like a cat with a ridiculously long tail and a pair of wings. It stared at her as if waiting for something. Blurry memories started to play through her mind.

Oh, she sold her soul to a demon. Was that why she was here? The creature still remained at the door. Taking a deep breath, she made her way over. "Are you here to show me the way?" She asked hesitantly. "Meeeoowww," it responded before turning and walking down the hall.

Maybe that was a yes. Ellie looked both ways down the hall before following. She was afraid to touch anything. It all looked expensive and polished to perfection. Down a long stair case and into what appeared to be a dining room of some kind.

She waited patiently. Another set of doors busted open, causing her to jump clutching her chest as she tried to calm her racing heart. "Hello, sweetheart! How did you sleep?"

She recognized that voice instantly and kept her head down. "Yes, thank you." Shifing uncomfortably not knowing what to do with herself, she rung her hands together tightly.

"Sit down, sit down, you must be hungry!" He egarly guided her to a chair. On the table lay various foods. Some were almost recognizable, but others had well... rather unique ingredients.

Was this some kind of test? Or maybe it was a form of torture. Or perhaps he wanted to fatten her up before eating her. Not that she had any right to complain she did sell her soul to him.

"Now that you're awake, we can discuss the terms of contract!" The demon seemed oddly happy about it. Making her more nervous. "Now Ellie dear, what do you want?" She blinked slowly. Nobody ever really asked her what she had wanted before.

"But I thought -" He waved a clawed hand at her. "Bah, that was hardly anything. Come now, you must have some real desire. Think Ellie, what do you want?" His eyes seemed to look deep into hers as if trying to read her thoughts.

"I want," she whispered breathlessly. Could she really ask for anything. "Can you really get me anything?" She asked. "Anything your little heart desires! As long as you don't as to leave."

That confused her. "I wouldn't do that. We made a deal. I can't leave. Not that I really want to go back." She mumbled, picking at some fruit. "Truly? You wish to stay here?!" More excitement. Just what was he thinking?

"If you give me what I want." Placing a piece into her mouth so she wouldn't feel like swallowing her tounge. "YOU MUST TELL ME!" The demon squirmed in anticipation.

"I want to sleep as often as I want, I want to eat whenever and whatever I want, I want to wear warm clothes and read books and an endless amount of books." She rambled, starting to put more on her plate.

"Go on. Keep going!" She wasn't sure if he was encouraging her to eat more or to ask for more things, so she did both. "I want to never have to work unless I want to. I want to never have to worry about bills or landlords. I want to have the choice to do what I want whenever I want."

Shoveling more food into her mouth, she hadn't even realized she was crying. The demon carefully cupped her chin, drawing her attention away from the feast. "Is that all? My sweet Ellie, we are going to have to work on how to be more selfish. You will have all this and more already."

They stared at each other. "Why would I have it already?" She asked. "Because I want you to be my daughter, of course." Ellie's mind reeled. Daughter? A demons daughter at that.

"I don't even know your name." The demons eyes widened. "Oh my! We can't have that, can we? My name is Sullivan, but you can call me Papa!" What a confusing day. But he did tell here to be selfish right?

"Sullivan -" "Papa," He corrected. "Papa," She said carefully, the word strange on her lips. "If it's not too much trouble, I'd like you to add one more thing." He perked up. "Anything you desire, princess!"

She tried not to cringe. "I want a special favor. This means I can cash it in anytime, anywhere without consequences. Even if it seems like it's over the top or ridiculous." She waited.

"Deal! Just sign here!" Suddenly, a parchment was set in front of her listing all the conditions she had listened to and stating Sullivan's own. None of them were outrageous or seemed impossible for her to accomplish.

Really, they were simple. The most excessive looking thing listed was that he could take pictures of any activity they were doing together. So she signed on the dotted line. The demon squealed and picked her up, twirling her in circles.

"Oh, I can't wait to show you off! You're so cute!! You'll be the envy of all of hell, just you wait!" Ellie just allowed herself to be manhandled. She's the one who agreed to make a deal with a demon. She should just accept her strange fate.

#mairimashita! iruma kun #welcome to demon school iruma kun #lord sullivan #oc

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lithesunflower · 2 years ago

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Fragile Strength Part 2

Spoilers for Avatar: The Way of Water

Part 1

It only took about half an hour for Spider to get himself and the girl back to the rest of the clan. She was light and he had’t been far into the forest when he found her.

He could feel the looks before he saw them. Na’vi turning to look at the sight before them of a human boy carrying a very human looking girl. It made him uncomfortable but he set his jaw and kept going.

Surprisingly it wasn’t Neytiri who spoke first it was Ronal.

“What is the meaning of this?” she snapped looking from the boy she had reluctantly allowed into their midst, to the fragile creature in his arms.

“She’s hurt” Spider insisted, “I found her in the forest and I brought her here to be tended to”

Ronal looked livid

“This could be a trap! How do you know that someone didn’t leave her as bait? How do yo know you haven’t just led a whole army to our door step with her blood?” she asked reaching out to grab a scrap of the girl’s clothing that was colored red. As she moved closer Spider instinctively hissed, his teeth barring in defiance as his body turned away to shield his companion.

“She’s not a threat! How would you react if a Tulkun baby were to show up bleeding in these waters?” he snapped. “She isn’t dangerous...she’s like me!” And in that moment, as he said it, Spider realized that to them, to all of them, that was dangerous in itself. He felt a part of him aching for the acceptance he had known with Quaritch, even for the place he had held in the Sully family before the sky people returned. But something in him knew that those moments were in the past, perhaps much farther than he could have ever imagined.

“Please” he sighed, pulling himself back to the present. “I..please just consult with Eywa...ask...maybe she is supposed to be here” he pleaded.

Ronal looked frustrated and angry she was about to raise her voice to the boy again when Jake stepped in.

“Please...I will take responsibility...she will not cause any harm...if she turns on anyone I will handle it myself” Jake said. His words sent a shudder through Spider because he knew that Jake meant he would kill the creature in Spider’s arms. The thought of the pale figure being void of life made the human boy want to cry but he held back, shifting his eyes to look at Ronal for an answer.

Ronal seemed to consider Jake’s words and just hissed in frustration before turning away.

Jake turned looking at Spider with concern and worry. “Don’t make me regret this kid...” he said. Spider just shook his head and carried the girl towards one of the huts where he knew there were medical supplies.

He carefully laid her down touching her forehead to gage if she was warm with fever. He was relieved that she seemed to be fighting whatever pain she was in quite well. He took out a few cloths and instruments he had never seen before lining them all up on the floor and wondering what he was supposed to do first. He was genuinely lost. He knew the wound needed to be cleaned and probably stitched up but he didn’t know what to do, he had never dressed a wound only kept pressure until medical arrived.

Ronal walked into the hut and waved at him “Go...” she said and Spider looked like he was ready to fight her until he saw Kiri walk in behind Ronal. “I cannot dress the wound and clean her up if you are here...I need quiet and the girl needs privacy” Ronal insisted. Spider looked at Kiri trying to determine if it was safe to leave the creature he had found in Ronal’s care.

Kiri gave him a nod “She’ll be safe...I’ll call you when we’re done” she said gently. Spider glanced at the girl on the ground one more time and looked up again at Kiri before slowly walking away.

It felt like hours, days, waiting, pacing, wondering if he had even done the right thing. What if it had all been a trap to get the creature alone so they could finish her? What if they just came out and insisted that she had been too weak? He had nearly overthought himself back into the hut when Ronal walked out with Kiri in tow. The younger Na’vi gave Spider a kind smile.

“She’s resting, we’ll know in the morning if she’s strong enough or not...for now it’s up to her” Ronali said glancing back at the pale figure laying in a small cocoon of blankets.

“Thank you...” Spider whispered, he was truly thankful and the relief on his face was clear.

Once the others were gone Spider quietly walked back towards the hut and sat down inside. His new found companion was wrapped in a blanket, her wounds cleaned and her hair gently falling in a halo around her head. Spider found himself just watching her, she was breathtaking and he was almost certain at any moment she would just evaporate into a figment of his imagination,

A few minutes went by and she stirred, her emerald eyes flickering around the unfamiliar room before settling on him. She awarded him a gentle smile as her hand moved slowly to grasp his. She knew he had saved her she just didn’t seem to be able to articulate her thanks.

“Your name?” she whispered. It was a question, quiet and gentle but sweet and melodic.

“Most everyone calls me Spider but...my real name is Miles” he said, his heart beating rapidly as he tried to think of what to ask her. He had so many questions.

“Wh-what is your name?” he finally asked as he watched her eyes flicker around the room once more.

“Anya” she breathed softly and it was clear that even that small interaction was leaving her exhausted. Spider felt like his breath caught in his throat hearing her name

“Anya” he repeated the word sounding beautiful to his ears. “You’re safe now...rest” he said. He felt her fingers tighten around his hand before she seemed to slip into sleep again. He heard a call for the evening meal but his attention never wavered. He watched her fall asleep knowing he wasn’t leaving her side anytime soon.

Part 3

#spider socorro #miles spider Socorro #avatar #avatar the way of water #avatar atwow #ronal #Jake sully #kiri #dove cameron #jack champion #pandora #fan fiction

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jvrssy · 1 year ago

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hello all of tumblr users,today i want to share my opinion about men in these times,so..lets start. at first i want to say that im not saying it about ALL men,but about those who are like this. as you know,in our times men doesnt have respect for women (talking especially about 12 yo boys who had just watched american psycho and they think they are sigma's). but my question is - why men are so disrespectful to women? many women were mathematics,writers and inventors etc. and i've heard about female inventor who found out something about DNA (idk what was that about DNA especially). but then i heard that men stole her discovery and took credit for it, even though they didn't invent it themselves. it shows how men were jealous of her,or just wanted to be seen,but at her expense. men literally disrespected women for centuries,thinking females are worser,not strong enough,that they cant rule country and many things! im just so pissed off by that,cause human is human,and one person cam be good at something,while someone doesnt have to be either. men saying that women belong to kitchen are showing that they are dependent and immature honestly. its like you dont have 2 legs and 2 hands to cook for yourself,but woman does? i have one boy at school,who is/were saying that women do belong to kitchen,and when a girl would argue with them,they would say like "youre woman,you have no rights" bro WTF is wrong with you? or when in history class was topic about feminism,most of boys started laugh. women fights for their rights for ages,maybe even decades. i bet that if men would have to fight for their rights,it would be easier for them. oh sorry,i forgot that they would never experience,how it feels like,how it feels like to be Arabic woman,and have to cover your whole self under hijab and many clothes,and you can only see. imagine its summer and you have to dress like that. thats humiliating in some senses and very uncomfortable i think. the same is about empathy, maybe women are more "emotional" than most men,but they at least have a heart,to help someone,to put yourself in someone elses situation (not all women idk,it depends on personality). and not to be seen as man hater - most fathers are telling to their sons after they example: fall on the ground and little son start crying cause it hurts him,father would say like "real men doesnt cry" i hate it. everyone can show their emotions,not matter if its a boy,a girl,adult,or old person. everyone should show it,cause in 20 years after hearing things like "dont cry,are you a p***y?" they became hard to show emotions to someone,even to be ashamed of them. and about feminism also: men like to manipulate women,and have fun with them,but tell me why? i know that manipulators cant love theirselfs,and nobody else,but its just..really sick and hurting..same thing about sexualising women from men who are 40+ (but it can be every age) i have seen many catcalling situations on tik tok and im honestly disgusted,cause how dare you say it to a teenager or just to any woman?! do you think that "compliment" like "nice ti*s" or "nice ass" is something cool that someone can hear? i had situations like this in my life too,guy smirking at me,and i was already disgusted by him. thats why sometimes i dont understand the second gender. ofcourse anything can work on two sides,woman can got sexualized like men too,so read whole post before judging and typing mean stuff.

#feminism #opinion #catcalling #disgusting #stop sexualizing #post #first post #writers on tumblr #sigma #thoughts #manipulators #manipulation

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thomine · 3 months ago

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i care more to be loved

you don't believe you found love but you found kaveh. that's close to love, right?

kaveh / reader, 5.4k words :: general audiences, consumption of alcohol (mentioned in passing), canon compliant, not proofread.

note: read on ao3 / work tag :: um. not i'm not really back from hiatus. yes that's a little women (2019) quote. you may read the author's commentary for more info.

ONE.

There should be a word to describe those like you who withdraw from social gatherings. You don't hate people so you aren't anti-social, and it's not like you don't hang out with others—forming connections is your job. You are the guy who knows a guy who knows a guy. There are just some days you cannot bring yourself to keep up, and today is one of them. While your social circle is partying at Lambard's Tavern, you sneak out of your house into the forest beside Sumeru City with a small container of snacks and some textile. A lonely picnic it will be, but loneliness is not the issue here. Neither is hunger, but you have to keep yourself occupied.

You find a comfortable spot under shade with a beautiful view of the setting sun and lay out a shoddy sheet of straw before placing a mat over it. It's a cloth given to you by your mother after scoring well, although her face when you declared you weren't joining the Akademiya made you feel she regretted getting you anything in the first place. This mat does cost a lot so you keep it pristine to honour her efforts.

The container that keeps your food warm is also a gift, one you bought yourself after years of eyeing it through windows. It is nicer when it is on display, but you don't regret buying it. It is practical and you'll give credit to where its due despite the miscellaneous inconveniences in its design.

Once you've settled in a comfortable spot facing west, you watch as the last light of the day diminishes. This is—what you like to believe—a refuge, but your worries never cease to leave you. You wonder what your friends are doing at the tavern. Probably drinking their life away while jostling and cheering. Having fun. Playing games. Enjoying the atmosphere. Putting their best foot forward.

For love.

Like artists musicians that decorate the streets on festive nights, awaiting tips and change to drop into their hats.

As your brain depressingly quips with itself, you can't hear footsteps from behind. It is only when a shadow covers you that you take note you are not alone, and also realise you have been crying.

"I hope I'm not disturbing?" the uninvited voice asks, gently. When you turn (after wiping your tears as discretely as you can), you meet a blonde man with warm eyes made even warmer with the shine of sunset. He kneels to meet you at eye level as you present your business smile. "I saw your mat and I was wondering where did you get it?"

"Oh, this?" You stand, uncomfortable with his gesture of kneeling to meet your gaze. You wear your shoes and step off the object he's interested in so he has a full view. "It was imported from Inazuma. They sell the finest textiles so I'm not surprised it caught your attention. Want to try sitting on it? Oh, but please take off your sandals."

The man seems to be half-listening as he straightens. You wonder if your eyes are puffy to give away your earlier misery, but other than his intrepid stare directed at you, he's fixed on the mat.

"And how much would it cost? Are you still in contact with the merchant? Wait, before we continue let me introduce myself." He extends his hand for a handshake. "I'm Kaveh, an architect. I'm building a large mansion nearby and will also be in-charge of designing its interior. Such a mat would look wonderful among the furniture I plan to get."

You look around, unsure why you haven't seen any construction. Was it approved or is this guy just lofty? Regardless, you exchange pleasantries. After giving your name, you add, "I'm afraid I do not have the particulars of the merchant. My mother bought this for me"—you hope you don't look constipated—"but we are not in contact so I can't help you trace the mat's source."

"A pity," he says, shoulder slouching. "Sumeru textiles would work but I really like this design."

Again, it's not that you dislike people, but you really want to be alone right now. You look at the mat, memories of a distant past weigh heavy in your throat. It would be nice to say goodbye to it once and for all.

"You can have it." Grabbing the edges, you fold the textile as he gawks. "I don't use it other than as a mat when I'm outside—which isn't frequent. Hearing what you have planned, you'll make better use of it. I'll just get another one."

"But this is from your mother, isn't it? Wouldn't you want to keep it for that reason alone?"

You pass the rolled up mat to him with a lopsided smile. "Oh, it's just a mat to me. Don't worry about it and don't think too much of this. See you."

You then pick up your barely touched food and trudge back home before he can reject your offer.

⠀

TWO.

You hear someone call your name. It's your name, yes, but still unfamiliar on the tongue of this person. The first thought that comes to you is that it is a client, but clients don't address you by your name. Only your nickname. That's how you differentiate your personal and professional circles. All personal connections eventually mix with your profession, so they handle your name like experts. Vowels and consonants wrapped in a specific tone. This is fairly… friendly.

There was someone you met recently… you try to recall that moment but it doesn't appear until you are face to face with a blonde man with warm eyes.

Ah, Kaveh.

To his luck, you are chirpier than when he last met you. With energy to perform, you smile brightly and greet him, although your pronunciation is off as one would for new names. He doesn't seem to mind though.

"Glad to bump into you," he huffs while leaning over, supporting his upper body with hands on his knees. You let out a small laugh.

"I wouldn't call you running to greet me as bumping into me."

"Don't take it the wrong way, I wasn't stalking you or anything. I just saw you walk down this street and thought I'd say hi."

This man is puzzling. First, he claims to be building something large near where you were seated, and yet with your purview of the land you see not a single construction. Then, he runs towards you just to say hi. Is saying hi to someone you barely know that important?

"Well, um, hello then," you say, extending an arm for an awkward handshake. "How's your project so far?"

"It's…" he clears his throat. "The mat you gave me was perfect. I should really thank you. Should we have a meal together? My treat."

"No need to treat. I just had lunch with my friends. I was heading back, actually."

"Do you stay nearby?"

"Relatively close. What about you?"

"Um, I stay nearby as well."

Something is definitely up with this guy.

"Is there anything else?" you ask as you place your hands on your hips. "I'm sure you're busy yourself."

"Let me treat you at least once. Whenever you're free."

You don't understand why he's so insistent, but it reminds you of desperate clients even more desperate to keep their business afloat. They always have something to offer in hopes it can gain them something of greater value. Not that you are great at weighing these deals, but emotionally, you play this game everyday. Perhaps giving him the mat was a habitual act of the same principle. You hoped giving him the mat will grow something, and this may be your chance to harvest it.

How tiring, but isn't that necessary? Condition and reward. Didn't he say he was building a mansion? You might want someone of such caliber in your books.

"I'll take up that offer for a meal, but you don't have to pay for it." You take out a paper and pen to jot your address. "Tomorrow, dinner? I'll cook."

Once again, before Kaveh can react, you make your leave. You dissolve into the crowded street, wondering what will bloom from this.

⠀

FIVE.

You still don't know where Kaveh lives after a year, but he surely knows how to make your house like his own. You did not expect to have common interests, and his philosophies intrigue you enough to not be bored. When he doesn't appear on Fridays, you are surprised, but even then you don't push for details or a reason the next time he comes over. His life is his life and yours is yours.

You know he keeps his secrets such as details of the project (which grants him highs and lows, as all things do) while you keep your worries private. To meet him more frequently means nothing, at least that's what you believe.

"What are we?" Kaveh asks one quiet evening as you tear through your dinner. He has become such a staple in your life silence feels comfortable. His question, however, rips the atmosphere like you and your meal. You tongue feels heavy as your mind replay scenes that happened last week. He tried to bring it up once too, but the moment you expressed discomfort, he surrendered. It seems the water in the kettle has finally reached its boiling point.

"What do you mean? What else can we be?"

"Do friends really do what we do?" he probes. You give him a quizzical look, daring him to be clear. "Are you going to deny our kiss last week?"

"You stayed over and we got drunk. That's all that happened." You bite your lips. You had hoped the weekend would mean he would forget everything somehow. "You were lonely. I was lonely. That's all there is to it."

"So the kiss meant nothing." He looks forlorn, slouching in his chair as his legs sprawl under the table, as if he's as exhaled like a flattened balloon. "Why do you do this to me?" he asks, voice wavering. "Are my feelings for you not clear?"

You place your cutlery down and wipe your mouth. You lost your appetite. "I'm not here to discuss this. I'm going to go for a walk."

As you stand, so does Kaveh. He gets up with such force his chair falls back. It is a chair he bought for himself after he ruined yours. Not his fault. The chair was going to give way anyways. This chair, though, is handpicked by him to match whatever miserable mess of furniture you have. It isn't costly, but no one sits on it other than Kaveh.

He walks towards you and grabs your wrist. You flinch but do not pull away.

"You should head back home and sleep too. Maybe you just aren't in the right mind," you mumble. "You did drink yourself dead because of stress so you should rest."

"You kissed me. I can't just wake up next day and pretend everything is fine. You know how I feel about you."

"I already told you I was lonely, okay? Do you really want to be with someone who uses you because you're conveniently here? And it's not like you actually like me either."

"Why do you keep saying that? You don't know how I feel."

"I know. I know the game we play. If I didn't give you the mat that very day I would be a stranger to you even now. If I didn't show you any kindness you would have hated me. Don't you get it Kaveh? This world is based on conditions, and every condition I've set such that you'll like me. I've trapped you like a rat and I let you delude me to believing lies."

"What are you talking about?" Kaveh's voice is as scratchy as sandpaper. It doesn't sit right to see such a a pretty face this distressed. "If you say I'm stressed you must be too. Nothing from your mouth makes sense. Tell me, what's bothering you? We can work it through." He grabs your hands and intertwines his fingers with yours. A gesture you've gotten used to—indulgently. He first held your hand like this when you were sick. How comforting it was but now it repulses you, yet not enough to reject his warmth still.

"Kaveh, listen to me. The moment you don't get what you want from me, you're going to walk out of this door. You don't love me. You love the conditions I set. It is like a prey falling for a predator's tricks."

"Then say you don't love me."

You swallow.

"So by your logic the reason you kissed me is because I helped you through your loneliness. Have you wondered maybe you caused it upon yourself? You keep such a distance with your friends, they don't even know about me."

"What are you implying?"

"Maybe you do love me. You can treat me as you do with your friends. Avoid me, isolate yourself, but you invite me even to your pity parties. Can you really say I'm a prey, or am I someone who willingly walked into your den for I know you aren't the predator you believe you are."

"Kaveh, please stop. You don't know me. I'll give you away as quickly as I gave the mat. You do not want to be involved with me."

You jerk your hand out of his grasp. As usual, you leave Kaveh faster than he can react. After your hour trek through the forest you return to an empty house with an empty heart.

Pity party? Pft. You definitely don't host pity parties. The moments you choose to be away from your friends are moments you regain your energy to fight the world. It is difficult to keep having to present yourself as lovable. To have someone like Kaveh accompany you through these times means nothing.

It doesn't mean anything.

⠀

SIX.

You were right. Kaveh doesn't return the next Friday, or the Friday after that. As if you've unplugged a lifeline, he doesn't exist. You don't even see him around the streets he normally hangs around.

"You seem upset," a friend of yours say. She is the owner of a small cafe situated in the bazaar. A friend from your youth you know you have to maintain good relations with. Her coffee isn't to your liking but they have won awards. In fact, brewing coffee is not her only strength. She is good at gathering intel.

"Am I?" you force a laugh. "Must be the lack of sleep. Work has been piling up as of late."

She sips her tea as you observe the stillness of yours. Rich brown liquid. Warm to touch. Memories of Kaveh's hands wrapped around yours ignite your chest with sorrow. You swallow it with your drink.

"I heard that you seldom visit the bazaar to buy dinner," your friend inquires. Of course she will turn her tricks to you. "I'm not saying you can't get your food anywhere else, but I do recall you recommending Jut's dishes. Fast and delicious for anyone working over time."

"Have you met him? I told him of your recently opened store and he said he would drop by. Wouldn't it be cool if there was a collaboration between the two of you?"

"You know when to find a business opportunity when you see one. As expected for someone who scored well in the exams."

"You just like to flatter people, don't you? You scored even higher. My mum never shut ups about it, and I believe she'll still bring it up even now."

"But my networks aren't as wide. You truly know how to rope people with that smile of yours. Not to mention you're always too kind for your own good. Thanks for the free sponsor, by the way."

You ease a laugh, glad to have the topic changed. "Oh don't mention it. It was a discounted deal anyways." You finish your drink and decide it is time to leave, but your friend's next words hold you prisoner.

"I was wondering if you've heard of Kaveh?"

"…What about him?"

"So you do know him."

"Bumped into him once. Said he was working on a big mansion in the forest. What about him? Are you going to ask if I can help you connect with him?"

"Not really. Not professionally at least. I think he's charming… he stopped by my store once"—of course, because you told him to give her stall a try—"and was so nice. He's so pretty, don't you agree?"

You pull your head back as you force a laugh so she can't see the way your eyes wrinkle with remorse.

"If I can get in contact with him, I'll let you know. I have to go first though." You gesture to your finished drink. "Thanks for the drink."

She stands with you and edges close with arms open. You lean to give her a hug. Before she can remember to ask for anything more, you're out of the bazaar.

⠀

THREE.

You truly are a person with no qualifications other than a disappointed mother and an award-winning smile. You put on masks and play pretend, trying to inflate your credentials so others will believe you are lovable. You can be loved. You will be loved.

But what if you're just a singular person who stares at sunset with a container of home made food while you let your thoughts powered by self-deprecating rot and doubt to run wild? Will you still be lovable then? It is a question that grips you even more than death itself.

You are a beggar at the mercy of those that pass by. Your hands empty and shivering. Love me, you cry. What I give is the feeling of superiority. The feeling that you're doing something good. In return I want you to love me.

Can you really say, then, that someone will love you for who you are? Would there not be this underlying feeling that they chose you out of pity?

You know people will be at your funeral, but will it be for you?

"So you were crying the day I met you," Kaveh says as he appears from behind. You have invited him to join your picnic, but he's late and your thoughts have grown to be a beast that demands your tears. "Sorry, that's not a good entrance. I didn't mean to be a busybody."

You wipe your wet eyes, uncaring of being discrete as you have been caught. Kaveh brought along more food. He unpacks them on your new plain mat.

"No, I'm thankful you didn't say anything that day," you note. "I don't think I wanted you to point it out. Would have ruined my mood even more."

Kaveh takes the spot you've prepared for him, leaning on his hand positioned behind to get a good view of the sky. He's still a stranger—in some sense—but a very welcoming one at that. There is something about the way he treats you that makes you feel you can trust him with your secrets. Not that you will share it with him. He's only come over for dinner the past month. Your friendship with him is developing faster than you'd like, but when he does things like randomly send you letters because something reminded him of the conversation over dinner or when he buys your favourite ice cream because it was on sale and he remembered you, it's hard not to grow fond of him.

In your area of business you should return such gestures, but he somehow makes himself indebted to you. You've never have the scale balanced when it comes to him. Perhaps inviting him into your private moment is your attempt at leveling what he skewed. Maybe this is part of his greater plan—he'll count these blessings as a means to an end, but for once, you aren't doing business. It never feels like it with him.

"You don't want to talk about it, do you?" he asks after a moment of silence. You shake your head. "Fair enough. Sitting down to watch the sunset is already easing my own stress."

"You really didn't have to do all of this, by the way," you motion at the food he bought and laid out. So much for trying to make things even. "I told you I was going to cook."

"But it's to celebrate!"

"Celebrate?"

"To us being friends. You've helped me so much and now you're inviting me to a picnic? Surely this means we're getting closer. Plus, look over there." He points to something in the distance. You move closer to him to see his line of view and notice bright colours poking from the canopy of the forest. "That's my project and we've finally started construction. Surely this is a moment to celebrate."

"I'm really happy for you."

You lean your head against his shoulder briefly, like a nudge. The smile on your face is small, but it's sincere.

⠀

FOUR.

Kaveh is acting strange. He is outside the door but he has yet to knock. He's mumbling things to himself and you feel tempted to open it just to scare him as a lesson to not talk to himself outside your door, but you've yet to clean the living room. He comes in like a storm and places his things everywhere. It's not that you mind though. It's just embarrassing to have him know you keep the house as he left it as evidence that you aren't alone.

Finally, his long-anticipated knock comes. You yell for him to wait as you finish the final touches and swiftly open the door. Tonight, you cooked The Endeavour in hopes to rival the one he made for you last week. It is an intricate piece of art disguised as the dish Fatteh. Only he can come up with something as extravagant as that, so you're not trying to beat him in presentation but taste.

You open the door, anticipation bursting in your eyes.

"You won't believe what I—"

"I love you and I—"

You blink, staring blanking at your favourite flowers covering your view. When you push it down to see Kaveh, his face is flushed. His eyes avoid you, and he seems to have regretted saying anything at all with the way he bites his lips.

"Did I ruin it?" he mumbles, free hand covering his face as the other pushes the bouquet into your arms, as if to say he wants you to carry the embarrassment away. "Was this bad timing?"

You gingerly take the bouquet and usher him in before he decides to run away.

"Let's… have dinner first."

You place the bouquet on the table in the living room as you bring out dinner.

"What was it you wanted to say?" Kaveh fidgets with his hands, voice strained with worry. "You sounded really excited."

"It's this," you say with less enthusiasm than you expected. "I loved what you brought me last week and I wanted to try making it too. It can't rival your presentation, but I hope it's edible."

"It's lovely." The compliment doesn't reach his eyes. Not that he doesn't believe what he's saying. They're just busy with other emotions as they intrusively search your expression. You try to keep it normal.

"Dig in," you chirp, pointing towards the dish that, when you think about it, is a poor rendition of what Kaveh gave you. "Let me know what you think."

He takes a bite and slowly the conversation buries his confession. You're back to laughing while he's rambling. The bouquet of flowers sits on the table without water—withering, if you may put it—while you and Kaveh's relationship continues to grow.

That night, you lay in bed wondering what his words mean.

What have you done?

⠀

SEVEN.

"The Palace of Alcazarzaray has been destroyed by the withering." News headline reads in bold. You stare at the paper, wondering why the name of the mansion rings a bell. You read on and you gasp when you see his name.

"…the architect, Kaveh…"

Your eyes dig into the words to extract every piece of information you can. Although he never told you the details of the project, it was undeniable how much passion and love he had for it. Talking about the project was always a gateway for him to share about his past, present, and even future. He told you of his time at the Akademiya, his parents, his dreams and aspirations. To have this project fail broke your heart knowing his has been broken.

Is that the reason he has been avoiding you? Was that the reason he arrived at your house multiple times looking worse than before? The reason he drank so much that night which you half-joked was because of the project really was the reason. Your kiss must have caused his mind to enter a flurry that pulled him under.

What have you done?

They say love does not make you think straight. Can you blame it on love or is this solely your selfish doing?

You don't wait for the answer as you scramble out of your door after grabbing your essentials. You have to find Kaveh, figure out how much he owns and how he's doing. You have to help him in one way or another if not who knows what will happen to him—

But you don't find him. He finds you instead. He's a few meters away from your door, approaching you with bloodshot eyes. You sigh, an act of relief but also concern, as you walk towards him.

"It's been long," you say after greeting him, unable to meet him in the eye. "I heard about the project. I want to help."

"No."

"What?" You raise your head and look at him, dumbfounded. "Why not? If you need money, I have some."

"I know you'll say that, but I cannot accept it."

"Why not? I don't want to see you"—you gesture towards all of him—"like this." For someone who tries to keep himself well kept, he is disheveled beyond recognition. Hair a mess, attire robbed to a plain t-shirt and pants that cover him decently. He looks pathetic, like a beggar, and who loves to see someone in such a state? Saviour complex or not, you know you can help him, and you will. "Come inside. Let's discuss it there. You look famished. I'll cook up something for you and—"

He calls your name. You still remember the first time he reached out to you on that busy street. How different your personal name was on his tongue compared to others. That friendliness has never left. In fact, it grew fonder over time. You should have noticed his feelings before he announced it, but maybe you were hoping it wasn't true. Now, he says your name dripping in tenderness and you want to scream.

Don't do this to me, you think as you drag him in your house regardless. I don't need you to remind me of your feelings. Of how I hurt you.

Once the door closes, as you're about to leave to prepare him a warm cup of coffee, he grabs your hand.

"I'm here to let you know I'm not accepting any help from you, and my feelings will remain."

"You're crazy. What are you going to—"

"You said that I only like you for your kindness, for the things you did. I'm here to let you know even if you don't show me an inch of kindness, I'll still love you."

"You shouldn't do that. That's stupid. That's illogical—"

"But it's your logic." He leans closer, almost putting his entire body weight on you. It is at this proximity you smell the faint scent of alcohol. "If I can't prove it to you with my logic then I'll have to use yours."

"You're not thinking straight. Look, Kaveh, remember the great girl who runs a coffee shop in the bazaar? She wants to meet you. She can make better coffee than me, is more beautiful and smarter. Her business is expected to skyrocket after marketing and maybe you can get your funds from her too. You'll find better, more amazing people. You shouldn't waste your time trying to prove to me that you like me. You don't even have to prove to yourself you like me."

Kaveh stays quiet. He stops moving too. You would think he is dead but you've handled a drunk Kaveh more often that you'd like to admit. Thankful he stopped his thrashing. You drag him onto the sofa and begin making preparations for when he wakes. Medicine, food, maybe some contract for him to be your roommate.

However, when he wakes, he is even more adamant on his stance, and more logical to argue for it too.

At least he drinks your coffee and eats the meal you prepared for him: a simple bowl of cream soup. He devours it almost in an instant, and you wonder how long he's not eaten. Given his new skinnier frame, you're betting at least a full day.

"I'll make seconds." You take his bowl and turn to head to the kitchen but he denies you once again by grabbing your arm. You hate how difficult it is to shake him away. You hate how a part of you is happy he wants you to stay.

"That's enough. I am not a baby. You of all people should know this."

"Yes, but in your current state? I wouldn't say so."

He releases his grip and you return to your seat. He sits upright on the sofa, a good distance away from the flowers he bought for you now kept in a small vase.

"I know you're worried about me," he starts as he rests his hands on his thigh and looks at the floor.

"Yes, it isn't a very nice situation to be in." And I probably made it worse.

"But I have a plan. The overseers of this project will not abandon it, and I sold my house but I met up with Alhaitham who I will live with in the mean time."

"See? You never know when you'll need to pull strings with people you dislike."

"I don't dislike him. At least, him as a person. Just his views of others."

You chuckle. "Same thing, isn't it? What is a person without their views? Their passions? Their aspirations? That's who they are."

"Their flaws as well." He looks at you, warm eyes intense like a burning flame. You shy away from his gaze. "Thank you for your help," he clears his throat, probably embarrassed he fell on you like that while drunk. It's not the first, and you hope it's not the last.

"Are you sure you don't want me to help?"

"It's fine. I will deal with it myself and I'll show you what I mean."

Another question sits on your tongue. Will you continue to ignore me and only come to me during your drunken stupors?

But he beats you to it.

"I know this is a silly question, but why do you want to help me so badly? If you believe I was lured by your kindness, then why continue being kind to me?"

"I don't deny I'm selfish," you start as you look at the floor, tucking your feet closer to your body. "I do kind things so people are tethered to me. I don't want you to leave."

You give him a side glance, expecting some sort of disgust or distaste, but instead he looks solemn yet shocked. It's better than being judged or disgusted.

"I'm sorry, Kaveh," you whisper. "I don't think I'll ever love you the way you want me to. I don't know how that works."

"Then that's even more reason to not accept your help. I won't give up."

Silence except the ticking clock in your room. This time it's unnerving, but not in a bad way. You are aware of your breathing—chest rising up and down—while your heart rate quickens as heat gathers at your face. When did he have such an effect on you?

"Visit me even if you're in a pitiful, sorry state. Even if it's unbearable to see you the way you are right now. And even after that, when you've got your bearings, I still want to have dinner with you."

"I will be back," Kaveh announces as he stands. He smiles, satisfied.

author's note: as always thank you for making it until the end. this story came to me in a whirlwind of inspiration. whether you agree with reader's point of view or not, i do hope you come to realise that love, as tricky as it is, is also fairly simple because it is everywhere around us. it may not come in the form that we want but we shape the love we receive with our hands by changing ourselves. stay strong fellas (i am loosing my brain cells as we speak).

#kaveh x reader #kaveh x y/n #kaveh x you #genshin x y/n #genshin impact x you #genshin x reader #genshin impact x y/n #genshin impact x reader #genshin x you #genshin impact reader insert #slo.w #.os #icmtbl : kaveh #i am working on your requests i can assure you i think abt them daily uwu

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bewitchingfanfiction · 1 year ago

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TPN (2019/09/03)

The wind blew their hair and clothes around, Emma's skirt nearly flying up too high. Norman stared down at the water with dull eyes.

This was it. This was when they would die, at midnight when no one was around.

"Are you sure about this?" Emma asked hesitantly, eyes watering and voice cracking.

She had arrived at the bridge to see this boy climbing over to the other side of the railing. He had expected her to stop him, to yell and beg and cry and try to grab him.

Instead, she calmly asked if he wanted company, so that he didn't feel so alone when he jumped. Because she was going to jump too, and she didn't want to be alone.

They exchanged, but not reasons. What would be the point? They didn't need to know why the other had given up on life, that wasn't important.

All that mattered now was jumping.

"I am...you?" Norman asked hesitantly, eyes bloodshot from crying a few minutes ago.

Emma shut her eyes tightly, tears dripping off her chin. "Let's do it."

"Before you guys do that, think we could talk for a sec?" Emma and Norman froze where they stood, holding hands and holding onto the railing with one hand each, and hesitantly turned their heads to stare at the boy on the other side of the railing. He looked to be their age and had his hands in his pockets. "Yo." He greeted.

"W-Wha...don't move, we WILL jump!" Emma snapped with wide eyes, she was trembling badly and so was Norman.

The boy shrugged and tilted his head slightly, allowing Emma and Norman to see the big purple bruise on his cheek. "I wasn't going to. Relax, I don't really care if you jump or not, that's your buisness. But if you're gonna die anyways, mind letting me vent? I have things I want to tell people but I can't, you gotta take this to the grave." He explained.

Norman and Emma looked at each other hesitantly and shrugged. "What's your name?" Norman asked.

"Ray. You?"

"Norman, and this is Emma." Norman greeted slowly.

The boy smiled a little. "Hm, okay Norman, Emma, remember, these secrets can't leave us three okay? Shouldn't be a problem right? Let's see...my mom beats the shit out of me all the time, and I can't do anything about it. I'm bullied at school cause I'm a quiet kid, I'm pretty skinny cause I don't like eating, it's a time waster...oh, and my arms are basically a craft project gone wrong." Ray rolled up his sleeves to reveal dozens of angry red scars, all self inflicted.

Emma sniffed a little and hiccuped. She didn't like seeing others suffer, she never has.

"My dad left because he fell for some other girl, so it's just me and my mother. So, what has you two around here?" Ray asked casually, leaning against the railing.

Norman bit his lip and spoke up hesitantly. "My girlfriend was cheating on me and using me for whatever she wanted, including sexual acts I was uncomfortable with...my parents are getting divorced and neither of them want me...and my pet dog died...it just feels like everyone is leaving me...and I can't stand being alone anymore..." His voice cracked as he told his story, and his grip on Emma's hand tightened.

Emma swallowed hard. "...My mom wants me to be the perfect lady...I have to act calm and collected, never raise my voice, starve myself to be skinny, wear tons of makeup and dresses, get perfect grades and marry a man that she chooses for me. She wants our family to be picture perfect, but my dad hits her and sometimes hits me, and he's always drinking...the pressure of trying to be perfect when our family is so messed up is getting to me...and...once I tried to cut, but my mom found the scar on my wrist. She was horrified that I had damaged my perfect skin and rubbed so much makeup on the scar that I was sobbing from pain...it had been a fresh scar..." She cried, hiccuping more as she covered her mouth with her hand, finally letting go of Norman's hand.

"Sounds like you live in some pretty shitty situations, I get that. Well, I said what I wanted to, go ahead and jump." Ray smiled.

Emma and Norman stared at him in silence for a moment, and slowly lowered their heads to look down, doubt on their faces.

"What's wrong? That's what you wanted right? To die?" He asked.

"...It is but..." Emma's eyes were shut tightly as she cried. "...I don't want to die..." She sniffed.

Norman teared up a little, his bottom lip wobbling. "Me neither..."

Ray sighed. "Nobody wants to die. They just want to escape the pain, so they pick death. So listen up," He snapped, making them both look up at him in surprise.

"You can die anywhere, it doesn't have to be here, so why not just do whatever you want and see how long you last?" Ray smirked a little.

Emma sighed sadly. "Impossible. My mother will want me back home...besides, staying alive will just cause more pain..."

"Who the hell cares what your mom wants? You're literally planning to die right now, you could rob a bank and it wouldn't matter, cause you're ready to die. You guys don't have to go back to your shitty lives alright? Come with me, let's run away, the three of us, and go find a life we can be happy with." Norman and Emma's eyes widened, and for the first time in forever there was a hint of sparkle in them.

Hope.

Emma and Norman took Ray's hands and he helped them over the railing, and he would prove to be right about what he said.

Five years later they were living together as adults, happy and healthy and having fun, leaving their horrible pasts behind them.

Still...it never occurred to them to ask, they never even realized.

Just what was Ray doing at that bridge in the middle of the night?

...Perhaps it doesn't really matter.

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michaelmyersmybeloved · 2 years ago

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hey love, could you do an RZ! Michael Myers, Bubba Sawyer, and Thomas hewitt smut where a the male!reader is tied up and sitting in their lap and they've never messed around with other boys before (or theyve never gotten themselves off) so theyre just overstimulating thr fuck outta the reader continually jacking him off till he's crying whining 🤭🤭 it can be hesd canons or whateverd easiest to write <33

Of course I can <33

I'll go with little headcannons and a little fic for each <33

Rz Michael Myers, Bubba Sawyer, and Thomas Heweit with a Male! s/o who's tied up in their lap

Minors please DNI!

RZ! Michael Myers

The moment you showed any sign of arousal, Michael knew.

The thing though, was he was not going to reciprocate it.

Just to see what happens (he does a little trolling)

Eventually he cant take it anymore, seeing you walk around with a boner, making little noises as you shift uncomfortably.

He ties you up, with little protest at all.

His hand wanders down your chest, tugging at your clothes slightly, but never taking anything off (cus he's such a tease)

Michael gets what he wants, so when he ghosts his hand over the raging election in your pants, he nearly begins rutting into you. He takes your pants off, and starts rubbing you slowly.

"Michael please, please go faster"

Of course he can oblige, but will he? You've been kinda bad Y/n. Getting all aroused and not coming to him.

Once he figures out he's your first, his chest swells up with pride. He is the one making you whine the way you are, HE is the one who will bring you to your first release.

Will make you cum at least 3 times

"Please michael, go faster, pleasepleaseplease, oh god." Sitting in Michael's lap was pushing it as it is, but sitting in his lap, tied up, and with a boner? Now you're asking for it.

He rubs you up and down, cock weeping with pre, whines and moans escaping from your lips. Of course, Michael is only going to continue teasing you.

As you feel your third orgasm approaching, suddenly Michael speeds up, hand twisting and rubbing your length until you burst. Shaking, tears begin to roll down your cheeks. "Please Mikey, n-no more!" "Oh fuck fuck fuck Mikey please ah fuck~" He only stops when you can't speak anymore <33

Bubba Sawyer

Goodness is he overwhelmed when you're walking around with a boner. Whenever he gets them, he immediately excuses himself, so why aren't you?

He comes up with the conclusion that you need help with your little 'problem'.

As soon as your on his lap, you're squirming. We can't have that now can we?

Once you're nice and tied up, he teases your hard on through your pants, other hand tracing your hard nipples.

Eventually, your pants come off, and Bubba makes you cum so hard you're seeing stars. 'Where did he even learn how to move his hand like that?'

He already knows he's your first, so he wants to make it special and feel good.

"Bubba please, please oh my god" as your second orgasm approaches, he keeps on at his brutal, but loving pace. "Please Bubba, I can barely see, please oh god let me cum please please please."

He leans into your neck, licking and nibbling, until he gets to a spot that's making you see stars. "Oh god Bubba right there yes, yesyesyes please!" Of course he continues, using your pre as lube. He knows you're close, so he speeds up, and takes satisfaction in the whines coming from your mouth.

Thomas Hewitt

Once he catches wind (by that I mean sees with his own two eyes) of your erection, he's immediately scooping you up to your shared bedroom.

He knows you've never done anything like this before, but that's okay cus neither has he.

He sits you in his lap and holds your wrists behind you, stroking your cock through your jeans.

"Please Tommy, just take me"

He isnt ready to completely have sex yet tho, so this is what you get for now y/n.

Your third orgasm is approaching quickly, and Tommy knows. He slows his hand, and drags out your ogasm.

Thomas knew he was your first, so of course he's making you feel good. He does not expect anything in return, so just lay back onto his chest and let him make you feel good.

"Oh my god Tommy please, please go faster" 'no, no I don't think I will.'

Of course he can't stand your whines (lovingly) so he speeds up, and let's you cum. He only stops when you beg him to <3

I hope this was okay! I'm not too well varsed in masturbation writing yet so this was good practice. Thank you so much for the request <33

#rz!michael myers #michael myers x male reader #michael myers x reader #michael myers #bubba sawyer headcanons #bubba sawyer x male reader #bubba sawyer x reader #michael myers headcanons #thomas hewitt x male reader #thomas hewitt x reader #thomas hewitt #thomas hewitt headcanon #thomas hewitt headcannons #slashers x reader #slashers x male reader #slasher headcanons

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fanficimagery · 4 years ago

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Lost and then Found pt. II

Imagine being taken by HYDRA. After years with them, they set you loose on someone you haven't seen in a while. Unfortunately for HYDRA, you weren't as susceptible to their mind experiments like they thought. Now away from their influence, your only worry is making sure you're prepared for your baby to enter the world.

Words: 11.3K Author’s Note: I won't say I don't like this because there are some parts in here that I absolutely adore. However, it is rushed and it feels forced to me, but I needed to get this out so here it is. Also, I've never experienced childbirth so please ignore my mediocre take on it. Haha.

Tags: @aya-fay @70s-chic @sipsteacasually @kaitlyn2907 @scarlettwitch99 @thingsforimagination @b1sexualtonystark @living-that-best-life @alexnicolaidisss @l0ve-0f-my-life @eliwinchester99 @mimilh @rosesloml @blackxwidowsxwife @meredeph @lexy9716 @wxnderingthoughts

The Avengers have grown accustomed to having a werewolf living among them and sitting in on mission briefings, but they put their foot down when you attempt to join them for missions. You want to desperately prove yourself to the group of assembled heroes, but you also very much want to protect the life growing inside your womb. So agreeing to stay home while pregnant, they eventually task you with setting up your own apartment the first time they all had to leave you behind.

Of course you weren't totally alone and Pepper had flown in to help you set up, her excitement for your pregnancy spurring on your own excitement even more.

You get settled quite easily and it shows how much trust you have in them when the full moons don't affect you like they normally would. Now others could come and go during the full moon, and you barely batted an eye at them. Unless it was Tony. Tony needed to be watched at all times after he attempted to rile you up purposely on the night of a full moon to see exactly how much control you had.

The slight swell to your abdomen eventually sets in and you couldn't be more proud of the roundness that was obvious when you wore a tight shirt. Wanda, too, was absolutely smitten with the small bump and the whole team was relieved to see her genuinely happy after everything she'd recently gone through. But Wanda wasn't the only one who doted on you- oh no. For some reason, the sight of your bump made the two super soldiers absolutely melt when your shirt was fitted and the bump was on display. Everyone knew it was inevitable for Steve to turn to mush, but it was Bucky who surprised everyone.

Bucky always made sure to sit close to you, snacks on hand and ready to make a run to the store when your cravings got the best of you. You'd even caught him reading a pregnancy book, but he looked so embarrassed when you caught him that you couldn't bring yourself to mention it to anyone else. And for that he was grateful- always letting you crawl into his lap when you had the urge to scent mark everyone.

Your cuddle sessions became more frequent, which made Wanda pout and Sam and Steve rather smug for some unknown reason to you.

It's cooler than normal around the living quarters given the rising summer temperatures and, though you normally run hot, your own body temperature has been up and down since you've become pregnant. So on this particular day you find yourself cuddled up to Steve, your left arm thrown over his waist and left leg draped over his legs. Your bump is resting near his hip and he smiles down at you every time you grumble about needing to pee.

"This baby is going to be the death of me," you mumble. "All I wanna do is cuddle, but no. I have to pee. Again!"

Leaving the comfort of the new couch that had been ordered for your specific cuddling tendencies- it could honestly pass for a bed with how spacious it is- you get up and take care of business in the bathroom. And then when you get back to the living room, you find that Bucky's taking up the other side of the sofa Steve is on.

"Yessss." You nearly skip back towards the sofa, crawling in between both men. "Supersoldier sandwich."

Steve snorts and then yelps when you manhandle him into scooting down until he's laying down again, then wrapping yourself around him like you had previously been. All the while Bucky is laughing at his friend's misfortune, but then you reach behind you and drag Bucky closer until you whine at him to spoon you. You smell rather than see his embarrassment, especially when Steve teases him to just spoon you already, and then you practically purr when you're enveloped in their warmth.

As Bucky settles behind you, you end up grabbing his metal arm and dragging it over your waist. He tenses, but you run your fingers up and down the back of his hand until he gets that you're okay with him- metal arm and all.

Stuck between two solid bodies, enveloped in their warmth and scent, is enough to send you off into a content light doze.

And then you're jolted back into consciousness when you feel Bucky freeze behind you. "What was that?"

"What was what?" You sleepily mumble.

"Your stomach. Are you- was that your stomach grumbling?"

This time it's your turn to freeze as you place your hand over his that's still crawling your bump. "You actually felt that?"

"Yeah." He chuckles.

"Holy shit," you muse. "It's way too early for anyone other than me to feel the baby. How the hell-"

"Wait, what?" Steve says, a whine lacing his tone. "Bucky got to feel the baby?"

You laugh as you move to turn so you're laying on your back, and both Steve and Bucky try to maneuver their hands around your small bump in order to feel the fluttering sensation. "This is insane. I can't believe you guys can feel it."

"I don't feel anything." Steve frowns.

"Don't pout, punk." Bucky smirks. "I can only feel it because of the arm."

Grinning, you reach up and lightly pat Steve's cheek. "Don't worry, Rogers. When the kicks start coming in, I'll go find you first."

The two men are distracted when the elevator dings open and Wanda steps off, the scent of food wafting from the bags she's carrying. Your nostrils flare and your mouth waters, and you start to pull free from Steve and Bucky.

Wanda smirks. "Hungry?"

"Always." Now free of the men, you hurry towards the kitchen where Wanda is laughing and pulling out containers. "Is that," you inhale deeply, eyes closing in bliss, "medium-rare steak, baked potato with the works, and.. and fries?"

"I even got that sauce from Arby's you like so you can dip your fries in it."

"Oh my god, you're my favorite."

"Hey!" Steve and Bucky shout from the living room. Wanda preens.

A couple more months pass and you're in awe of what your body is doing.

You're absolutely in love with your growing bump which now looks like there's a volleyball under your shirt, but for some reason you're unreasonably uncomfortable. You've been meaning to go shopping for maternity clothes, however, everything you've found online is not to your taste. You just want a simple loose shirt, but all maternity clothes seem to either have a floral theme to it or ruffles that you're not a fan of.

So stuck in one of your usual t-shirts that feels like it's stretched too tight and showing off the bottom portion of your bump, you walk around your apartment grumbling and shifting uneasily and trying to find a way to make yourself feel comfortable.

You're pacing around the room, hands rubbing along your swollen abdomen when there's a knock on your door. Agitated, a growl slips free. You stomp towards your door, another growl threatening to slip free, when you're stopped short at the sight of Bucky.

His eyebrow quirks at you and you sigh, trying to shake off your agitation. "Why are your eyes glowing, sweetheart?"

"I'm annoyed. I can't help it."

You swing the door open wider, but Bucky remains rooted to his spot. "Why are you annoyed?"

And just like that, the tears well up and start dropping one after the other. "I am so uncomfortable!" You cry. Bucky's eyes widen before he steps forward, arms loosely wrapping around you. "I just- I want to be comfortable. None of my shirts are fitting me and I- I just- I need-"

"Okay. Okay, shh." Bucky gently rocks you side to side. "Come on. Come with me."

Miserable, you agree and follow after Bucky to his own apartment that's just a few doors down the hallway. You're not sure what's going on when he tells you to wait in his living room and then disappears into what you can only guess is his room, and your brow furrows when he returns with a shirt in hand.

Sheepish, Bucky rubs the back of his neck with one hand while holding the shirt out with the other. "Here. You can use one of mine until you find something more comfortable."

You glance between him and the shirt, reaching for it as a smile starts to take form. And when you have the shirt in your hands, you readily strip out of your own shirt and huff a laugh when Bucky blushes and averts his gaze. Pulling on his shirt then, you groan with satisfaction as the material hugs you just right. "Oh heck yes." And then picking up the collar of the shirt, you can't help but deeply inhale the material and groan yet again. "This is exactly what I needed."

Bucky slowly smirks. "Good. Now let's go grab something to eat." He can't help but laugh as you latch yourself onto his arm, mumbling about him leading the way as your eyes close in pure bliss.

Your senses tell you Bucky's just leading you towards the communal kitchen, your nose twitching at the smell of food coming from it's direction. There are a few voices too and it's easy to pick out Wanda, Steve, and Sam.

Upon opening your eyes, you're met with amused and/or surprised expressions. "What?"

"Do my eyes deceive me or am I sensing a walk of shame?" Sam slowly smirks.

You and Bucky both frown as Steve and Wanda laugh at their friend's assumption. "Huh?"

"You're in Barnes' shirt," he says. "You cannot stand there and tell me you two ain't foolin' around."

It takes you a second to realize what he's saying, your mind connecting the dots when you feel Bucky tense next to your side. The slight embarrassment wafting off of him nearly makes you whine, but you swallow down the urge. Instead, you roll your eyes and say, "First off, if I was getting dicked down by this beefcake, there would be no walk of shame. I would happily tell you about length, girth, and every goddamn ridge on this man's dick." Wanda cackles as Sam's eyes bulge in shock, Steve then choking on his orange juice. "And secondly, I'm fat, Wilson!" You let go of Bucky, turning to the side and grabbing the sides of Bucky's shirt to pull tight over your swollen tummy. "None of my shirts fit comfortably anymore and Bucky was just helping a girl out." His mouth drops slightly as if he hadn't thought of that and you shake your head at him. Letting go of the shirt, you walk forward to sit at the kitchen island. "Do you seriously think anyone wants to get it on with a pregnant chick? Use your head, Samuel."

As you settle down, Bucky takes a seat next to you and you automatically lean into his side with your head on his shoulder. Wanda and Steve both smile, but neither of them say a word. Sam, however, just can't let this go. "So let me get this straight- you two are not boning in secret?"

"No," you say, fighting off a smile. "We're just friends. Which means you just lost the bet too because my bump is fully set in and there has been no sex." Sam, Wanda, and Steve slowly lose their amused expressions and this time it's your and Bucky's turn to be smug. "What? Didn't think we knew about that, did 'ya?"

"Y/N, I am so sorry," Wanda says, but you wave her off. "I didn't think-"

"It's fine, Wanda. We thought it was funny."

Bucky remains quiet, but his little grin lets Wanda know he was fine with the supposedly secret bet as well. Her shoulders seem to sag in relief and you readily accept the plate of bacon Sam nudges in your direction.

"So," Wanda muses, "you need to go shopping? I'm free today and tomorrow."

You grimace. "I guess so. As much as I want to, I can't steal the guys' shirts for the next few months."

"Good. We'll head out after you get something to eat."

Leaving the medical facility, you aimlessly walk back towards the family compound with several black and white photos in hand. You had known there was a baby growing inside of you, but it's just now truly sunk in after seeing your baby's profile instead of a blob with still-forming limbs. A slip of paper with your baby's gender is tucked into your back pocket, Doctor Cho having given it to you in case you wanted to know.

You're not exactly looking for the quiet of your apartment, so you remain in the communal living spaces in hopes of someone distracting you. Only when you get there, all is quiet.

Turning on the large screen flat TV, you put it on a random cooking show after crawling onto your sofa and getting comfortable. You've only managed to watch one entire episode, your interest captivated by the meals the chefs are putting together with only a few certain items from their basket, when the elevator dings.

You don't bother looking back, Bucky's scent wafting over to you before he even steps into your peripheral. "Hey doll, want some company?"

"Please," you groan.

Bucky toes off his boots and sits on the edge of the sofa, scooting back towards the middle until he's shoulder to shoulder with you. You sigh and lean against him, laying your head on his shoulder while your arms remain on your lap. "What's wrong?" Bucky immediately says.

"Nothing. Why?"

"Because you're not cuddling me."

The tone of Bucky's voice makes you freeze, amusement blossoming. Slowly you lift your head and attempt to meet his gaze. "Are you- are you pouting because I'm not cuddling you?"

"No."

You huff a laugh, letting your forehead fall on his shoulder once more. After a moment, you lift his arm and settle underneath it as you cuddle him. Bucky chuckles and squeezes you just a little tighter against him. "Is this better?"

"A little. Now tell me what's bothering you."

You quietly groan, shifting under his arm until you reach to your other side and pick up one of the sonograms. "I had an appointment today," you say while handing him the picture. "It's just- I guess it's just sinking in that there's an actual living being growing inside of me."

"You mean all the kicking these past two months didn't give it away?" Bucky huffs in amusement. "Wow. Would you look at that?" He says. "The little nugget is really growing. Huh?" Your hormones get the best of you and you end up sniffling, tears filling your eyes. Bucky freezes. "Doll? Are you- are you crying?"

"How the hell am I going to do this, Buck? I'm a foul-mouthed werewolf who just recently escaped the clutches of HYDRA. What business do I have raising a baby?"

"Hey. Hey, look at me." Bucky gently nudges you so you'd glance up at him. With his flesh arm still tucked around you, his metal hand gently holds your sonogram between two fingers as he makes you look at it. "You're going to do just fine. You wanna know how I know that?" You sniffle and wipe the tears from beneath your eyes. "Because you have all of us- you have me- in your corner. This little nugget of yours will never want for anything as long as we're around."

His words only make the tears fall even more and you hide your face in his shoulder once more. He holds you tighter, shushing you and murmuring words about how you're going to be a good mother. If you could overlook everything HYDRA did to you in order for you to conceive this child and then go on to keep the child, then there was no doubt in his mind you were going to be a great mom.

As you sit there against Bucky and work on getting yourself under control, you can't help but notice that he turns the sonogram back towards himself to stare at it. You shift your head just right so you can see his face and it warms your heart to see him smiling at the profile of your baby.

The elevator dings again, this time dropping off Wanda. When she walks around the sofa and takes in your puffy, red-rimmed eyes, she freezes. "What happened?"

"Nothing."

"She had a bout of insecurity." Bucky tattles on you. "It's fine now."

Wanda blinks at Bucky in surprise before looking back at you and you offer her a small smile. "New sonogram pictures. It's.. just sinking in that this is really happening."

Wanda glances at the small piles of pictures next to you, squeals, and then hurriedly picks one up. You chuckle as she coos. "Has Doctor Cho mentioned whether it's a girl or boy yet?"

You nod. "I, uh, I have the slip of paper that tells me. I haven't looked at it yet."

"Well what are you waiting for?" Wanda immediately takes a seat and you slightly lean to the side in order to pull the folded piece of paper out of your pocket. You hold it out to her and her eyes subtly widen. "You don't want to do it?"

"I do, but.." You trail off, shrugging. "It doesn't really matter to me. As long as I have a healthy baby I'm fine. You seem more excited for this than me anyway."

She slowly smiles, only taking the slip of paper when Bucky shrugs. He seems confused for a split second that Wanda would even seek his opinion, but then his expression is neutral once more and that's all the approval Wanda needs. She takes the slip of paper, opening it to peek at the gender. She gives nothing away. "Last chance. Are you sure you want to know?"

"Lay it on us, Maximoff."

Wanda glances at the piece of paper once more before looking straight at you, a smile blossoming from ear to ear. "It's a girl."

Your breath hitches. "Yeah?" Your voice then cracks and tears immediately well in your eyes again.

Bucky squeezes you tighter to his side, chuckling, and Wanda's own eyes fill with tears as she nods. "You're having a little girl." A sob breaks free, even as you laugh, and the tears flow faster. Wanda crawls towards you and pulls you into a hug, crying softly as she rejoices with you. "If Pietro were here, he'd spoil that little girl rotten."

"Right?" You wetly laugh, pulling back and settling against Bucky once more. "I can already hear him. A little prinţesǎ," you coo, putting on an accent that was nowhere near what Wanda or Pietro sounded like. Both Wanda and Bucky laugh at your horrible accent, and your smile slowly falls as you fondly remember Wanda's twin. "I really wish he was here to meet her."

Her smile drops too, nodding in understanding. "Me too."

Wanda moves to replace the sonogram picture, but you shake her head and push her hand back. "No. That's yours."

"Really?"

"Yeah. You too, Bucky." You then glance at him, gesturing to the sonogram he still held. "I got copies for Steve, Natasha, and Sam as well. Even Doctor Cho happily kept one," you say.

"Thanks, doll." A kiss gets pressed to the side of your head and you can feel a rumble of content threatening to come out, but when you catch Wanda's gaze- her eyebrows wiggling causes you to frown and stomp down on the urge. "This is going up on my fridge."

Wanda smirks at you as you flush. "Yeah, well you're welcome."

Your friend can't stop smirking, but she's kind enough to not call you out on it in front of Bucky. "So baby shower?"

Now you groan. "Do we have to?"

And without missing a beat, Bucky and Wanda say, "Yes."

When word got around that Wanda was to plan your baby shower, you were surprised at how excited it seemed to make everyone. Apparently no one was immune to the impending arrival of your daughter, Clint having flown in to toss around some ideas and secure an invite for he and his family. Then when Tony and Pepper got involved, you had to make them promise that the shower was to not be over the top. But according to Tony, only the best was allowed for the next baby Avenger.

No one would tell you a thing about the baby shower, not even Bucky who you found yourself hanging out with more and more as the weeks went by. The surprise of finding you curled up in his lap was long gone and now when anyone was looking for either of you, it seemed they went to the other for your whereabouts. So a couple days before the shower, you thought you had won Bucky over and that he was moments away from telling you what you wanted to know about said shower, but Sam and Steve had given him one look and then quickly marched him out of the kitchen to keep him from spilling the beans. Afterwards, he stayed pretty tight-lipped, up until the day of said baby shower when Natasha, Wanda, and Pepper had you contained in your apartment while the boys took care of everything else in the communal living space.

As Natasha had you sit in front of your bathroom mirror, she did your hair and makeup for the party. So as you sat through her torture, you couldn't help but take a selfie with your fangs on display as you snarled at her smirking reflection in the mirror. Bucky had laughed at your picture and the only clue he gave to you about your baby shower was a picture of a sunflower.

Pepper and Natasha had several dresses for you to try on for the shower, but the outfit that won you over had been chosen by Wanda. It was an off-the-shoulder white short playsuit with lace detailing around your clavicle and thighs. You vetoed every heeled shoe until a pair of sandals were dropped in front of you and you let Wanda help you into them.

Once you were fully dressed, Natasha came to stand before you with her hands behind her back. When you narrowed your eyes at her, she smirked and produced a floral crown from behind her back. The flowers were fake, but the small versions of sunflowers and daisies were still pretty. So you bent your knees a little and let Natasha settle the crown atop your wavy hair, fixing your hair once more around your shoulders.

Then arm in arm with Wanda, you let your friends lead you out of your apartment and into the elevator. Your excitement was very obvious and the women couldn't help but chuckle as the elevator doors opened. Your excitement turned into awe at the sight of all the pink and white balloons, and the pink and purple floral garlands hanging from the corners of the room and around each table. There was a table for gifts and a table for finger foods, and of course there was no missing the three tiered pink and white cake. Everything was chic and girly and you absolutely loved it.

Tony, Bruce, and Helen Cho are huddled together, no doubt deep in a conversation about science. Clint and his wife Laura are there, along with their three kids milling about with another young girl who you remember is Tony and Pepper's daughter. And then there is Steve, Sam, and Bucky who each have a drink in hand and are chuckling quietly amongst each other.

"You know from all the stories I've heard, baby showers were meant for women only." At the sound of your voice, conversations taper off and smiles are directed towards you.

"Are you kidding?" Tony huffs. "I know all about the games played at these shindigs. I wanted in on the games and prizes."

"Of course you did." You then direct a smile at everyone gathered. "Thank you all for coming. This pregnancy wasn't exactly.. you know," you trail off, eyes lingering on the gathered kids who are surprisingly paying attention to your stomach, you say, "but I've grown to love this tiny human so much already before I've even met her and I'm just happy she's going to have such a great little community surrounding her."

"Aw look. You made Wanda cry."

You immediately glance to your right where Wanda's laughing, wiping beneath her eyes. "Shut up, Barton." And then, "So what are we doing first? I've never actually been to one of these."

"Games!" Laura and Pepper muse together.

Everyone chuckles at their enthusiasm and you let Wanda lead you to a seat. Pepper sits with Tony and Natasha finds herself being drawn to Clint and Laura, but she doesn't take a seat quite yet. You, however, are led to a sofa chair that Wanda takes a seat on one side of and Bucky the other.

"So the first game is a word unscramble," Natasha says. She walks over to a table and picks up numerous clipboards, along with a cup of pens. "There's a three-minute time limit and the one who unscrambles the most words wins."

Tony claps his hands together, rubbing them in anticipation. "This is so my game."

Natasha passes out the clipboards and pens, and you're happy to realize that this is a game you can play with them. Lila is the only child interested in playing, so Cooper keeps Nathaniel and Morgan busy with a gaming console just on the other side of the room.

Once everyone has a clipboard and a pen in hand, Natasha takes a seat with her own set. "Everyone ready?" At their agreement, she says, "FRIDAY, please set a countdown of three minutes."

"Timer is set, agent Romanoff." A timer is suddenly displayed on the wall across from them.

"Start it now."

The moment the first second ticks away, everyone rushes to pay attention to their piece of paper on the clipboard. You hurriedly scan the words, unscrambling the most obvious words- bottle, crib, bib, booties, blanket, nightlight, and car seat. The others give you trouble and as your eyes dart to the timer, your anxiousness kicks in to unscramble a few more.

Tony is grumbling about impossible words as Laura and Pepper laugh at his misfortune. Wanda is humming, happily it seems, whereas Bruce has just plain given up. Stroller and pacifier give you trouble, and your grumbling starts then. But when you get umbilical cord and morning sickness, it causes you to unknowingly dance in your seat.

Hearing a chuckle next to you, you glance at Bucky and see him peering at your clipboard. You gasp. "You dirty little cheater!"

Steve and Wanda both snort, and you angle yourself away so Bucky can't steal any more of your answers.

You think you've got a good lead, but just as the timer hits thirty seconds Laura calls out, "Done!"

"WHAT?!" Tony shouts.

As the unofficial person in charge of the games, Natasha takes Laura's clipboard to double check her answers. Sure enough, they're all correct. Steve, Sam, and even Clint boo Laura as Natasha grabs a small wicker basket that contains several envelopes inside.

Taking an envelope, Laura opens it and her eyes nearly bulge out of her sockets. "Wow. Every baby shower I've been to had gifts consisting of candles or Bath and Body gift baskets or even kitchenware. This- this is a lot."

"What'd you get, babe?" Clint asks.

"A check for twenty five hundred dollars."

"What?!" Sam yelps.

"Is that a normal prize for a game?" You wonder.

"No. No it's not," Sam says. "Come on. Bring on the next game. I need to know what those other prizes are."

You laugh as everyone suddenly becomes a bit more invested in winning one of the games. But as your laugh tapers off, you glance at Pepper and Tony. Pepper merely smiles when she sees your slight concern. "Don't worry about it. You didn't want an extravagant party, so Tony got a few prizes that were just a little bit more expensive than your average baby shower prize. Trust me, these were the least expensive prizes I could talk him down to."

"Well as long as you're sure.."

You shift uneasily in your seat and then Natasha's walking into the center of the room with a roll of toilet paper in her hand. "Come on, Mother-to-Be. We need to measure your bump and then let these idiots figure out how many squares you are. Whoever guesses the exact number, or closest to, wins."

Natasha helps you stand and you can't help but grumble, "None of you assholes better think I'm huge."

Lila giggles and you send an apologetic look to both Laura and Clint.

Hidden behind the kitchen island, Natasha has you stand still so she can wrap the toilet paper around you. You laugh as you hold the beginning of the first square on your stomach and Natasha reaches around you, unrolling the paper. It's an exact eleven squares.

Taking note of how many squares your bump is, you and Natasha rejoin the group.

"Alright. Give us a twirl. I need to see the bump all the way around," Tony says. Then looking at Wanda, he narrows his eyes. "And no cheating!"

Rolling your eyes with a small huff, you give a slow twirl. Natasha hands Steve the roll of toilet paper and he eyes your stomach before unrolling several squares of it. Bucky goes next, followed by Wanda and Lila. When Clint gets a hold of the roll and unfurls it dramatically, you can't help but growl at him. The others laugh and then take their turn, and then everyone is eagerly awaiting to see if they guessed correctly.

"Are you ready?" Natasha muses. Everyone nods. "It was eleven squares."

"Dammit! So close," Sam whines.

Everyone's looking around, but it's a smug Steve that raises his hand. "I guessed eleven."

"Boo!" Apparently, half the room are sore losers.

You laugh and then it's his turn to choose a prize. When he picks an envelope, he opens it up and his eyebrows raise in surprise. "An all paid expense trip to the spa and then a dinner reservation for two at some fancy restaurant."

"You're taking me to that," Sam immediately says.

Everyone laughs and then Pepper mentions taking a food break so you don't rush through the games. There are a lot of sandwich trays, fruit trays, and vegetable trays. And being the considerate pregnant werewolf you are, you let everyone else make themselves a plate before you, Steve, and Bucky make your own.

Eating carefully so as to not spill anything down the front of your outfit, the laughter and chatter around you makes you feel the most cherished you've ever felt. The finger foods itself is not enough to fill you up, but it does sate your hunger for now. However, with Wanda and Bucky still on either side of you even at the table, between the two of them they're constantly adding extra fruit and fruit dip to your plate.

A few more games are played afterward- Tony guesses the closest to the amount of jelly beans in a mason jar and wins a week-long getaway for two to Fiji, Natasha is the fastest with changing a diaper on a fake baby and wins another set of an all paid expense trip to the spa and restaurant for two, Lila wins at baby bingo and a check for twenty five hundred as well (Clint is clearly happy his family is raking in the cash), and Bucky is the fastest to suck all the apple juice out of a baby bottle which earns him a week-long trip for two to the Bahamas.

Everyone is having such a great time that a sudden alarm blaring immediately puts them on edge. But after Tony rapidly swipes through his phone to figure out what's going on, he realizes they're being called to assemble. Gazes dart in your direction, but you smile reassuringly at them.

"Go. The world needs you guys more than I do right now."

"But we didn't even get to see you open the presents," Wanda frowns.

"And that's fine. You already know I'm going to love whatever has been gifted. We'll gush about everything when you get back."

That seems to be all the team needs to hear before jumping into action and you're a bit surprised to see Bucky hang back. He waves Steve off when he notices his friend holding the elevator and you look up at Bucky with a furrowed brow. "You sure you're going to be okay, sweetheart?"

"Positive." You smile at him, stepping close to him and setting your hands at his waist. "And besides, opening these presents will not only distract me but it'll distract the kids as well. Go save the city or wherever you're needed, Sergeant. I'll be waiting in my apartment for when you get back."

Bucky's hands, both metal and flesh, reach up to gently cradle your face. His gaze darts all over your face for any signs of deceit, but finding none he finally grins. "Okay." He leans forward and kisses your forehead. "I'll be back soon." And then in a move that has you freezing and Pepper, Helen, and Laura's eyes widening, Bucky's hands drop to either side of your stomach as he bends at the waist and addresses your bump. "And you be good for your mama. I see the way you're making her flinch." He brushes his nose from side to side against your stomach and then chuckles when there's a kick in retaliation.

Before Bucky can straighten, you quickly paste on a smile but there's nothing you can do for the burning blush on your cheeks. And the damn prick smirks proudly at how flustered he's made you. "Go," you utter. "Go before Steve comes down to drag you to the jet."

Bucky gives you a nod before stepping back and turning around to saunter towards the elevator. You manage to keep it together until the doors close behind him, the elevator whisking him away, before someone says anything.

"Spill. Right now," Pepper says.

You glance at her, shoulders rising and lowering in a shrug. "I have no idea what the hell just happened, but I'm torn between crying at how cute that just was and wanting to desperately jump his bones." Lila giggles and your eyes widen. You point at her in an accusatory manner. "Stop giggling. You're not supposed to know what that means."

The other women snort as Laura urges her daughter to go play with her siblings and Morgan. Reluctantly she goes. Then as soon as she's out of hearing range, the ladies give you your full attention.

You sigh. "Bucky is.. a very attractive man. Too attractive if I must admit. And if I wasn't knocked up by some random guy's baby gravy, then I could definitely see myself turning on the charm and seeing if he's actually interested."

"First of all," Laura says, "never say baby gravy again."

Pepper snorts as Helen's nose wrinkles. "And secondly," Helen then pipes up, "that man adores you, baby and all." You huff in disbelief. "Don't think I didn't see him pacing outside my office at your last appointment. Or see the way he lit up when you gave him one of the sonogram pictures."

Laura smirks. "Clint told me Bucky keeps a copy of a sonogram in his vest."

And that- that's news to you. Yes you're well aware of your attraction to him as well as his attraction for you (being a werewolf really helps out when you can scent someone's emotions), but you wanted him to make the first move in order to be sure you and your baby were what he wanted.

"Whatever you decide to do, just know we all support you," Pepper says. You're still reeling at the fact that he carries your sonogram picture with him that you have nothing to say. "But until that day comes, why don't you start opening your gifts? I'm dying to know what the men thought were acceptable gifts."

Giving a feeble nod, Helen and Laura hurry to get up and start bringing over gift after gift. Then once you make yourself comfortable, Pepper hands you the gift she had gotten herself with squeals and coos following soon after you pull out onesie after onesie. The booties and floral headbands melt everyone's heart as well.

At the beginning of month nine, HYDRA starts to become a thorn in everyone's side. You figure they're looking for you and their precious cargo, but Natasha assured you everyone in the base you were held at had been taken care of and every file wiped from their computers. As far as other HYDRA bases knew, you did not exist. It was just a coincidence they were active again.

As the weeks slowly pass, your due date is any day now. So it's no surprise when you wake up in the middle of the night one evening, uncomfortable as can be, with pain in your back and lower abdomen.

It's four in the morning and you don't want to wake anyone, but Helen said to call her at any time in case something felt off. And this definitely classifies as something off. So after placing a call to your doctor and friend, Helen tells you to keep track of your contractions and head to the medical wing if they get too close together. She's currently in another state, but after a quick word with FRIDAY the A.I is sending for a quinjet to pick her up.

Moving from your bed to the couch in your living room, you work on trying to find a comfortable position. Sitting or laying down doesn't work, so you take to pacing. But you get tired of pacing very quickly and end up pulling out a yoga ball to bounce on.

By six in the morning, the contractions are about twenty minutes apart. The pain has amped up as the time passed that your claws and fangs have ended up elongating, and you've already shredded two of your couch cushions when you were suddenly seized up by a contraction. Eventually it becomes too much for you to endure so you have FRIDAY alert Wanda with a Code Pink. And not even four minutes later, Wanda is barging into your apartment with concern-filled eyes.

"Is this it? Is the baby coming? What's going on?"

You grimace, hands rubbing your stomach as you lightly bounce on your ball. "Uh, I'm in labor. This sucks."

"Well why aren't you in the med wing?" She asks. She comes closer to you, looking you up and down to make sure nothing else is wrong. "And what happened to your couch?" Instead of saying anything, you end up showing her. Another contraction hits and you snarl in pain, claws digging into your thighs and eyes blazing blue. Wanda's eyes widen. "Oh. I see." Then glancing upward, Wanda asks, "FRIDAY, how close are Y/N's contractions and can you please contact Doctor Cho?"

"The contractions are only eleven minutes apart now and Doctor Cho is still twenty-five minutes out. She has, however, advised me to inform Y/N that she should be heading to the med wing now. The nurses have been alerted and are waiting to have Y/N admitted."

A breath of air whooshes from your lungs just as you get yourself under control and you watch as the claw marks on your legs start to close themselves up. "Wanda," you pant, "I'm not going to be able to walk there."

"I got it." Your eyes watch as Wanda walks over to your kitchen, her hands glowing red as the same energy envelops one of your kitchen chairs. Right before your eyes, the wooden chair turns into a wheelchair. She then wheels the chair over to you, putting on the breaks before walking around to help you into the seat. "Now come on." She beams down at you. "Let's go have this baby."

Since the medical building isn't far, you don't bother with your pregnancy bag. The building is equipped with anything and everything you could possibly need and if you wanted your own stuff then you'd just send Wanda to get it. The elevator ride and walk towards the medical building is filled with your heavy breathing and pained grunts, as well as Wanda's encouraging words that are honestly starting to annoy you.

As soon as the nurses lay eyes on you, it's a whirlwind to get you situated as quickly as possibly. Wanda watches from the corner of your room and as soon as you're settled and the baby's heartbeat is resonating around the room, the terror sinks in.

You're about to have a baby. A BABY!? You're about to push out a baby that you're going to have to take care of for the next eighteen years and who will depend on you for the rest of her life. She will most likely be enhanced too and have to be looking over her shoulder for the rest of her life as well.

"Hey. You okay?" Wanda asks.

"No." Your voice cracks and the tears immediately well up as you meet your friend's concerned gaze. "I don't know if I can do this."

"What? Of course you can!" Wanda rushes towards you and takes a seat next to you on the bed, wrapping one arm around you and holding your hand with her other free hand. "This is just the pain and the realization that you're about to give birth talking, Y/N. You're going to be fine. And on the days where it does become too much, you have a whole team at your beck and call. You and baby Wanda are going to be fine."

Wetly chuckling, you say, "Nice try. That's not her name."

"Well you can't blame me for trying."

A wave of pain courses through you and you squeeze Wanda's hand. She hisses, you snarl, and when it finally passes you can sense a wave of pain radiating from your friend. Glancing at her, your eyes widen. "Oh no. I'm so sorry!"

Cradling her hand to her chest, she weakly smiles. "It's fine. It's not broken. I just- I never realized how strong of a grip you have."

You quickly take her injured hand within your own, concentrating on siphoning her pain away. You know it works when she tenses and pulls her hand out of your grip. "What was that? You had black veins-"

"It's okay. I was just taking away your pain. See?" You say, gesturing to her hand. You watch as she glances at her hurt hand once more, flexing her fingers and then looking at you in surprise. "Yeah. I kind of forgot I could do that."

"You forgot?" She laughs. Then sobering up, she says, "I bet you wish you could take your own pain away right about now."

"You have no idea."

When you become truly uncomfortable, Wanda has you sit in the middle of the bed and pulls your hair up into a messy bun before having you lean forward. Using as much pressure as possible, she presses her fist into the small of your back in hopes of alleviating some of the pain. Then when Doctor Cho finally makes her arrival, she comes with a cup of ice chips in hand and tells you to crunch on that while you're waiting.

Doctor Cho is just as excited as Wanda and you can't help but glare at them when one particular contraction has you groaning out in pain for over a minute. "Oh fuck HYDRA!" You shout once it's over. "There's so much fucking pain and I didn't even get to have the fun part of sex!"

Wanda's eyes are wide as Doctor Cho tries to hide her smile, moving around the machines to make sure you and baby are doing okay still.

"Um, bad time?" You glance at the doorway to find Steve and Bucky standing shoulder to shoulder. Steve looks rather amused whereas Bucky is looking at you as if you have bad news to deliver.

"Steve, the next time you go after HYDRA, kick them in the balls. Hard."

He snorts. "Sure thing, sweetheart. How long have you been in labor?" He nudges Bucky and the two of them walk in when Doctor Cho doesn't immediately shoo them out.

"Since four this morning."

Bucky and Steve are both about to admonish you, no doubt, when a contraction hits yet again. Your features immediately transform as you snarl and Wanda makes sure to keep her hands tucked close to herself. "They're getting closer," she muses. Then looking at Bucky, she says, "Come over here and hold her hand. She nearly broke mine earlier."

Bucky gulps. "Doll?"

"Give me your fucking hand, James!" Steve snorts as Bucky hightails it towards the bed, slipping you his vibranium hand for you to squeeze. And once the contraction passes, you slump back into bed and sniffle. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to yell at you."

"It's, uh, it's fine. I understand."

"Just so you know, I got that on camera." Tony saunters in, Pepper at his side.

But while Tony is far too amused at your pain and yelling at Bucky, Pepper is elated for the life you're about to bring into this world. Wanda relinquishes her spot next to you so Pepper can slip in. "Hey Y/N, how are you holding up?" Her gentle touch as she brushes the sweaty flyaways off your forehead makes you cry once more.

"This sucks."

"I know it does, sweet girl, but trust me. It's going to be all worth it the second you hear your baby's cries."

Another contraction hits and you're grateful that Bucky had never pulled his hand back. You squeeze his vibranium hand and whimper in pain, and Doctor Cho comes forward. "Okay, Y/N, I'm going to have to see how far you're dilated now since the contractions are only two minutes apart."

Doctor Cho helps you prop up your knees and, though the blanket is still covering you, Tony blanches. And that- that makes you weakly laugh. "Alright, everyone, if you're going to stay I'm going to need you to stand near my head and not my feet. Got it? Cool."

Pepper quietly laughs and leans in to press a kiss to your temple. "We're going to go, but good luck! I can't wait to meet her."

"Thank you," you say just as she pulls away. "For everything."

Pepper winks at you and grabs Tony's hand, he willingly letting her take the lead. Wanda reclaims her spot and Bucky doesn't budge an inch. Steve, however, nervously rubs at the back of his neck. "I'll be in the waiting room and alerting everyone." Then meeting your gaze, his expression softens. "You're going to do great. I'll see you after."

You smile at him, but another wave of pain prevents you from saying anything. And once Wanda and Bucky are left alone, Doctor Cho pushes the blanket and your hospital gown up to your knees so she has an unobstructed view of your lower half. You wiggle at the sudden pressure between your legs and then she's looking up at you and smiling. "You're ready to push."

A sob stutters out as your fear comes back tenfold. You hold tighter to Bucky's hand and reach for Wanda's with your other hand, but you don't squeeze her like you are Bucky. "L-Last chance to book it out of here," you say without meeting their gaze. "Because the second I start pushing, you guys are stuck with me."

It's quiet and then, "As long as you want me, you have me. I am not going anywhere, sweetheart."

Your bottom lip trembles and Doctor Cho smiles adoringly at Bucky's words. Wanda chuckles. "Yeah. What he said."

"If you two are going to stay, I'm going to need you to wash up real quick and put on a sterilized cover."

Wanda and Bucky both assure you they'll be right back, and Doctor Cho leads them to a small room connected to yours where they can get ready. You can hear water running a moment later as your friends lather up and then the rustling of the paper coverings they have to put on that covers the front of their bodies. Then when all three return, Doctor Cho hurries around the room to prep what she needs for the delivery while also calling in a couple of nurses that you had okayed to be in the room when the two of you had made your birthing plan.

Bucky and Wanda take their places on either side of your bed, and Bucky immediately slips his hand into yours. Wanda just watches from her spot, anxiousness rolling off of her even though she's smiling widely. The two nurses finally enter the room, taking their place by flanking Doctor Cho when she slides a stool to the end of the bed you're laying on.

Doctor Cho smiles at you and gives you a nod. "Okay. You ready? We're going to push on three."

"Ready or not, she's coming," you say.

"That's the spirit." Doctor Cho then glances down at your lower half. "And push on one, two, three!"

Immediately you push with all your might for the first six seconds, but the excruciating pain flares up and you roar out in pain. You don't need a mirror to know your face has shifted and you barely hear Doctor Cho telling you to take a breath and that that was a really good push. So when you're allowed to take a break, you fall limp against the bed and start crying. "That hurt so fucking bad."

"Hey. That was good," Wanda assures you. "It'll be over soon."

You shake your head, denying her words when you come to the conclusion that you honestly don't know if you can do this. And then, "I think you dented my hand."

You startle at Bucky's words, snorting and then pulling your hand free and swatting him. "Shut up. No I didn't."

"You didn't," he grins. "But I got you to laugh. Now take a deep breath and do it again. Push."

Giving yourself a moment, you do exactly as you're told. You reclaim Bucky's hand and then push again, roaring out seconds later. When you fall back against the bed, tears are rolling down from the corners of your eyes. "I can't. I can't do this," you cry.

"You can and you have to," Wanda says. When you look at her, her own eyes are filled with tears. "You can do this, Y/N. You can. Now push again."

You continue to whimper until Doctor Cho tells you to push again. You do and it feels like the pain is even more excruciating now. Cho smiles. "Oh wow. There's the head." She glances up at you in surprise. "Your baby really wants out."

The nurses behind Doctor Cho immediately go into action, grabbing blankets and preparing for the baby's arrival. "Helen, I don't- I can't-"

"You can." You glance up at Bucky and nearly stop breathing when he leans down so his forehead is against yours. "You can do this, doll. You're almost there. Just a little bit more pain and then the most precious being ever will finally be here."

There's a lump in your throat, but you manage to swallow around it. "Easy for you to say. Your vagina isn't being stretched open way further than it's supposed to be."

He smirks. "Shut up and push."

"Fuck off, Barnes."

There's no malice behind your words, but it doesn't stop Bucky from acting as if offended. Then when you position yourself to push again, Wanda grabs onto one of your knees as Doctor Cho instructs her to and then Bucky does the same. You grunt, you scream, and you cry harder than you've ever cried, and after several more pushes there's a piercing wail that emits from the end of your bed.

All noise ceases except for the piercing cry and your eyes widen when you see Doctor Cho lift your baby still covered in a mess. She's laughing as she lightly wraps the baby in the blanket and then stands to lay her on your chest. "Congratulations."

The tears immediately come back tenfold as your arms come up to hold her against you. "Hi," you cry. "Oh my god. Hi."

The baby continues to wail as you glance between Wanda and Bucky, and you don't think you've ever seen them so stunned before. As your head falls back in exhaustion, Doctor Cho says, "We have to take her now. She needs to be cleaned up and we need to run a few tests before we bring her back."

And though you know she's right, you can't help the growl that bubbles up when you see one of the nurses step forward. You manage to suppress it seconds later, but the nurse is glued to her spot in fear. Bucky moves and you don't make a peep as he gently wraps the baby in the blanket once more and lifts her from your chest. Your eyes are glued to him as the smallest of smiles turn up the corners of his lips and then he's handing the baby to the waiting nurse.

"S-Sorry," you manage to say to the nurse.

And a moment later, she grins. "It's fine. New instincts are wreaking havoc on you, no doubt, but we we'll be back as soon as we can."

You nod at her, heart aching as you watch the nurses walk out of the room with your newborn daughter. Doctor Cho taps on your ankle and says, "Ready for the afterbirth?" Your nose wrinkles and she chuckles. "I know. I need to get you cleaned up and then tell you all about what your body's going to go through for the next month or so."

Sighing, you look up between your friends. "Go. Go find out how much Baby weighs and then tell the others she's here."

Wanda chuckles and her nose wrinkles in a cutesy manner as she gently cradles your face in her hands and leans down to kiss your forehead. "You did so well. I'm so proud of you."

"Mhm. Thank you for being here."

"Are you kidding? I wouldn't have missed this for the world."

Wanda takes her leave, no doubt to find the baby, and then you look up at Bucky. The emotion in his blue eyes is enough to make your heart stutter, but instead of repeating Wanda's actions, he grabs your hand and gently squeezes it. "Thank you. Thank you for letting me witness that. I-"

His own voice cracks and you smile knowingly up at him. "I know." You then bring his hand up to your lips, pressing a kiss to the back of his vibranium hand. "And thank you for being here. I wouldn't have been able to do this without you or Wanda."

He grins. "I wouldn't have missed it for the world."

Chuckling, you gently push him away. "Go. Go find my girl and then tell the others. I'm sure they're dying to know what happened."

Bucky smirks before backing away and then turning on his heel to take his leave. As he makes it to the door, he rips off his hospital covering and trashes it. Then walking down the corridors, mind reeling over everything he's just witnessed, he lets his hearing take him to where he can hear a baby fussing.

He finds Wanda not long after and she glances at him, smiling. "Six pounds, three ounces."

He exhales in awe. "Jesus. She's tiny."

"She is."

Side by side, Bucky and Wanda watch as the nurses give the baby a washcloth bath. The entire time she's screaming her lungs out, but it only makes them smile and laugh and joke about how Y/N is going to have her hands full. They continue to watch as her foot prints are taken for the birth certificate and measured, then rocked back and forth until she calms down.

When she's placed in a bassinet to rest, Bucky clears his throat. "I'm gonna go find Stevie and the others. Give 'em the good news."

Wanda just hums in response and then Bucky's on his way once more. This is the lightest he's felt in a long while and he can't quite explain the pure elation that he felt the moment he watched Doctor Cho put the baby on Y/N's chest.

"Hey there, Tin Man," Sam calls out. "Any news?"

Bucky glances up, masking his surprise that his feet had taken him to the waiting room without really knowing. "Uh, yeah." He slowly grins. "Six pounds, three ounces." Pepper gasps, smiling wide. "She's, uh, she's in the observation room right now. Wanda's there if you wanna see her before they take her back to Y/N."

Pepper is the only one to get up while Steve, Sam, and Tony hang back. A moment later, all three watch as Bucky numbly takes a seat.

"I- that was.."

"Intense?"

"Beautiful?"

"Grotesque?" Tony muses.

Bucky briefly glares at Tony before looking at Steve. "I didn't know seeing the birth of a baby would feel like that."

"It usually doesn't," Sam says. "I mean childbirth is a beautiful thing, but it's not usually so intense unless there's feelings for the lady giving birth. Come into any realizations lately?"

Bucky opens his mouth to retort, but nothing comes out. Slowly closing his mouth, he frowns and then takes a moment to think about everything since Y/N was brought back to the compound. He thinks about every moment he had with her one on one, and one particular moment stands out to him. He'd been sitting in the communal kitchen when he heard someone approaching, their fucking fuckity fuck, fuck, fuck being a dead giveaway as to who it was. Y/N had rounded the corner, hands on her lower back and complaining about the full moon taking a toll on her body this time around.

Bucky suddenly sits up, eyes widening. "And there it is," Steve chuckles.

Sam starts to swear. "That doesn't count! Feelings have to be returned. We don't know how Y/N feels."

"Please." Tony scoffs. "If you can't tell that she's in love with Robocop, then the muffled sex noises from when they're boinking like bunnies after she heals will be a dead giveaway." Sam groans as Steve snorts and Bucky stands up without a word. "Atta boy, Buckaroo. Go get your werewolf."

Back in the room, you're cradling your baby and staring down at her in complete awe as you run your forefinger down the bridge of her nose. Wanda and Pepper sit in chairs next to the bed, and Helen stands at the end of your bed. "So everything checks out perfectly," she says. "Ten fingers, ten toes. Perfectly healthy."

"But," you muse, eyes never leaving your daughter's face. When she doesn't say anything, you glance up and smile sheepishly. "You're nervous about something. I can smell it."

She grins. "Right. I forgot you could do that." You continue to stare at her until she shifts nervously from foot to foot. "Well, um, when we took a sample of her DNA it was automatically entered into the system."

"Okay."

"I wasn't looking for anything. I promise," she pauses to gulp, "but it pinged in our system. We got a hit for a DNA match to someone who was already in the system."

"W-What?" Helen nods, uncomfortable. You glance between Wanda and Pepper, and both are equally shocked as you are. Then meeting Helen's gaze again, you ask, "Who?"

"James Buchanan Barnes."

The air seems to whoosh out of you at that and you don't know how to feel. On one hand, you're absolutely delighted. But on the other hand, he had no say in this and you don't want him to feel obligated when he no doubt finds out. "Are you sure?"

"Positive. I ran it twice more and Bucky's the father."

"I'm what?"

Dread pools in your stomach as your gaze darts to the opened door. Bucky stands there frozen. "Shit," you quietly curse.

No one dares to say anything, so Bucky stumbles further into the room. "Did you just so I was the father?"

You gulp. "I-It would make sense. Why HYDRA was so ecstatic," you explain, tears stinging your eyes. When he glances at you, you say. "I'm sorry. I didn't know."

"Of course you didn't," he says. "I'm not- I'm not mad." And in a move that surprises you after he's just found out that he's a father now, he sits on the bed just right in front of you. He smiles at you before his gaze darts down to your daughter and he chuckles softly while reaching up to gently caress her beanie clad head. Lowering his voice, he says, "I'm.. happy that it's me. That she's mine. Ours." He then looks up at you, his smile vanishing at the sight of your tears. "I mean, I won't push my way into your lives if you're not-"

"Shut up," you sniffle. "She's ours. Of course I want you there, but only if you want to be there."

Bucky's radiant smile in response makes you swoon, and Pepper and Wanda finally chuckle.

"I hate to break up this moment," Helen says, "but I need a name for the birth certificate. And signatures."

Guiltily looking at Bucky, you say, "I already chose a name. If I had known-"

"It's fine, sweetheart. I'm sure you chose a good name."

You nod and then glance over at Wanda. "I, uh, I wanted to honor the pseudo big brother she'll never get to meet." Wanda's smile falters, eyes glistening. "Her name is Petra. Petra Amaris." Pepper immediately coos and Wanda loses her composure. Your eyes widen and you glance at Bucky, gesturing for him to take your daughter. Panic flits across his features, but then he steels himself and reaches to carefully take her from your arms. Then once you're free, you maneuver over to the side of the bed closest to Wanda and reach for her hand. "Hey. Hey, shh. If you don't like it, I can-"

"No," she's quick to cut you off. "I love it. I'm just surprised, that's all."

"It's a beautiful name," Pepper assures you.

"Good."

Bucky looks so enthralled with Petra in his arms that you look for Helen and gesture for her to hand over the birth certificate. Taking it and a pen, you get to work filling in your name and signing it at the bottom. Then looking at the father portion of the certificate, you figure you'll let Bucky fill it in if he wishes. But as for Petra's last name, you fill it in without even thinking about it.

"Here. Your turn," you say. "Only if you want to though. No pressure."

Bucky glances at the birth certificate, reading it over. He grins before glancing at Petra once more and then takes the pen from you, gesturing for you to place the clipboard down on the bed so he can write. It takes only a few seconds and then you're handing it over back to Helen with a beaming smile.

It doesn't seem like Bucky is going to relinquish Petra anytime soon, so you take the moment to lean back in the bed and rest for a bit. However, you only get to relax for a few minutes before there's a knock on the door.

"Aw man, you're lookin' awfully cozy with that kid in your arms, Barnes," Sam says.

Steve elbows his friend as Tony makes a beeline for Pepper. "Huh. She's actually pretty cute," Tony says. "I thought I was going to have to come in here and lie about how cute she was."

"Tony!"

You grin at him, but Steve steals your attention away as he hovers over Bucky and reaches in to touch your daughter's tiny hand. "What's her name?"

You and Bucky meet each other's gaze, silently communicating about whether or not you should tell them. You give him a nod and he slowly smirks. He moves so both his feet are planted on the floor, and Sam and Tony have a better view of the baby cradle in his arms. "Her name is Petra."

"Aw damn. Named after the Maximoff speedster," Sam says, shaking his head. "Should have seen that coming."

Wanda giggles as you snort, but then you have to bite your lip to keep from bursting into laughter when Bucky tells them her full name. "Petra Amaris Barnes."

The men seem to all freeze, but then Pepper and Wanda coo about how adorable it is that you gave her Bucky's last name.

"Wait, what?" Poor Steve. He looks so confused. "Barnes? She has your-"

"I'm the random HYDRA operative who apparently supplied the other half of Petra's DNA."

"Holy shit."

"You got that right, birdie," Tony mutters.

You giggle and then shrug when Steve meets your gaze. "It was a surprise to us all, but apparently Bucky's more than okay with it."

The room goes quiet as the situation sinks in and then Tony starts to giggle. All eyes turn on him when says, "We sent in Barnes to seal the deal with Y/N and he really sealed the deal, huh? Got him a baby momma and everything."

You blink in surprise and then stare at Bucky, grinning softly when he seems to pink in embarrassment and refuses to look at you. You glance at Wanda and gesture towards the door, and she seems to get the hint. "Right, well," she says, standing up. "Why don't we give these two a bit of privacy while we go make some phone calls to Clint, Laura, and Nat. I'm sure they'd like to know Petra is healthy and that Y/N is doing fine."

Steve and Sam get the hint, but Pepper has to push Tony out of the room. Then left alone with Bucky, you smile at him. "Care to explain what Tony meant about you coming in here to get the girl?"

You watch as he gulps and you can see him trying to piece together what he's going to say. "I might have come to the conclusion that I liked you more than a friend and was coming to see how you felt about that."

Your breath hitches. He.. likes you? That was something you kind of already knew, but were waiting for him to say something. And leave it to him to confess after giving birth and your emotions were kind of haywire at the moment.

Unable to speak at the moment, you carefully lean forward until you're on your knees and Bucky glances up in surprise. And without warning, you press your lips to his in one of the most softest of kisses since he is still holding Petra.

It takes a minute for his brain to reboot and when he does, you smile against his mouth as he returns the kiss. "Is that," he mumbles, "is that your way of saying you like me too?"

His eyes sparkle and you huff a quiet laugh, biting the bottom corner of your lip as you nod. "I do. Have for a while, but didn't want to scare you off since I was pregnant."

"You wouldn't have," he assures you. "I adored the two of you long before I found out she was mine. I'm all in if you'll have me," he says.

You nod. "I want you."

"Good. 'Cause you're not getting rid of me. Ever."

"That's fine by me."

#marvel gen fic x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #marvel imagine #avengers imagine #bucky barnes #wanda maximoff #steve rogers #sam wilson #pepper potts #tony stark #natasha romanoff #helen cho #avengers #marvel

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yandere-sins · 3 years ago

Text

Charred

Horrortober Day 7: Shock “You look like a deer caught in the headlights.”

Ah yes. Angels. Complicated beings, I love them. Randomizer sure gave me an interesting combination for this day, but I am not complaining :D Also, if you are one of the people leaving a comment on my posts, please just know you are everything. I love you ♥ Even if they are in the tags, I am so happy to read your thoughts and feelings, it really helps so much to stay positive and motivated! ;;

Warnings: Yandere, Kidnapping, Corrupted Angel, Mild violent outburst Characters: Simeon x Reader

Angels aren't human.

How could you have forgotten?

Running through this godforsaken hallway, you were constantly blinded by lights. Little remnants of Simeon's power, one you didn't know he had. "I should have known better," you thought as you shielded your eyes from another flash caused by an orb to your left. If only the holy magic Simeon was able to use wasn't that harmful to your vision. If only he wouldn't use it on you. If only you never let it come this far.

But how could you have known? You thought you two were friends and like-minded people when you got closer to Simeon as you two attended RAD as exchange students. You weren't that kind of sinner; you never gave yourself hope there could be anything beyond friendship. And you weren't looking for it either. But to dismiss his exalted status as well, that one was on you. Of course he could use magic that was dangerous to you, especially with how little Simeon could understand human emotions.

Sure, he could crack a smile at a joke, show sadness, and give comfort, but he only did what he learned to do, feigning his sympathy. He didn't mean to hurt anyone with it, but it just wasn't in him to feel as humans do, or else it was threatening to defile them. Angels aren't human, they couldn't feel emotions like you did, and when they did, well, this is what happened.

Simeon was a mess. He was beside himself, trying to figure out what was wrenching his body. Ironically, it had been Lucifer who warned you about this. He kept himself brief when talking about angels and corruption, not wanting to open his own wounds. But he still made a point to tell you that it was overwhelming and maddening to have lived for centuries and only then regaining an emotional conscience. It war pain. Suffering. A change that would take months and years to overcome.

And it was all the scarier how quiet it made Simeon.

He didn't tell you what was happening, and you didn't notice it, busy with your duties and the brothers. You should have seen it! You blamed yourself for not being more careful as his friend, but it was already too late. When he started to demand more of your time and attention, glaring at the others for taking up his space by your side, it should have rung some alarm bells. It was almost painfully obvious that him getting more touchy when you were together and antsy when you pulled away was a warning of what was to come. Maybe you chose to ignore it. Perhaps you thought your friendship could survive him being irrational and angry, snapping at you and others at times.

But by the time Simeon became what he wasn't supposed to be, he had already kidnapped you somewhere strange and magical, just as twisted and scary as he was now. It was like an endless dark, ancient castle. Rooms with high ceilings and tall windows looking into the nothingness around the building. The insides were decorated, but the colors everywhere were constantly shifting, nauseatingly so. Sometimes white, sometimes grey. Gold accents, then copper. The temperature was hot when you were awake and cold when you slept. You knew it was magical and tied to Simeon, but that made it all the more uncomfortable and scary. You didn't want to experience this. You never asked for it! Part of you knew what was going on, and it made the realization worse.

There had been moments of clarity in his eyes when you pleaded with him to get a grip, but they fogged over with emotions an angel shouldn't have. When you tried to reason with him, he got jealous over the argument that others would come looking at you. "You're mine!" he screamed, and then his eyes cleared as he regretted his words, leaving you alone abruptly before you could say another word. He was ashamed and scared, you had seen it in his expression, but he still came back as if nothing happened.

On the surface, he was still the Simeon you knew. The one you loved. But he was so quickly offended and angered by now that you only grew more worried every day. Suddenly he started locking your room or would sit and watch you sleep, and you were scared of this angel that wasn't an angel anymore.

So… you ran.

At the first opportunity, you ran. The hallway seemed endless, and you didn't know where you were going. Flashes went off every few steps, and you ran into a few amenities blindly. Even if it was pure madness and wouldn't help either of you, you couldn't do this. The longer you stayed, the worse Simeon got. You needed to find help for him—and for you. That was the only way. The others would know what to do! They could do something for Simeon that you weren't able to, give him stability and support him in these hard times. You were just a human and didn't know if Simeon could remain an angel after all that happened, but if he could, that's what you wished for him from the bottom of your heart. You never intended any of this to happen, and secretly, you didn't want to be the reason for it.

"AH!" with a loud shriek, you were caught by a slice of light right in front of you. It was like a slit opening up, but even brighter than the orbs that had exploded before that. You could recognize magic when you saw it by now. Simeon's magic. Flashy, dazzling, unbefitting of the tumult he was going through. Simeon was far stronger than you expected him to be, but you realized now that you took his calm and sweet demeanor for weakness, when really, it was mercy.

Tumbling backwards, you landed on your side, your arm throbbing as you slowly tried to get up again. It should have shocked you more to see the person slowly stepping out of the light, but you could barely see anyway, only recognizing the voice as he spoke up. "My, you look like a deer caught in the headlights."

Finally, the light shining at you terrifyingly bright vanished, leaving only you two behind in the warped hallway. It took you a few blinks to recover from it, tiny sparks flying through your vision when you looked up at Simeon. Other than the dark corridor, Simeon was wearing his pristine, white clothes. Pure and amiable. Nothing like the inner tumult he was battling, and still, he looked nothing like the Simeon you knew. The kind Simeon. The one you loved.

You feared he was already gone.

Around you, the colors of the castle shifted to nightmarish black while accents turned into a deep red, all while you and Simeon never broke eye contact. He was walking towards you, hand on his chest and smiling in greeting. You once loved his reassuring smiles, the encouraging message they delivered. But this one was menacing and cold, as was his voice when he spoke up again.

"Where are you going?" he asked curtly, right to the point. Biting your lip, you only looked away. You wanted to argue, but good could come out of that? When you cracked your room's lock, you thought it would take him longer to find out. Long enough for you to form a plan, but it only now crossed your minds that the lights you encountered could have been like security cameras for Simeon to check in the case you ever did break out.

"There is no leaving this place, my dove. You know this. Why are you testing me."

"Why are you keeping me here?" you asked the same question he ignored so many times. Though this time, he indeed had something to say to it.

"It's dangerous out there. Demons will get to you, blemish your skin with their marks and rob you of your life. Aren't you worried at all?"

"I'd like to see for myself what I can do out there," you retorted firmly. "I think you're losing it, Simeon. You are nothing like you were when we were students."

Confronting him may not have been the best idea as his once so kind eyes turned moody, smile turning into a frown as you mentioned the past. "No, I am better. I can protect you now. I take care of you. You owe me more respect if you think I've gone mad. The only thing making me mad is you!"

Gulping, you looked at him. He was prideful now too. It was painful for you.

Simeon was slipping further and further. Every passing second was destroying him.

"Simeon, please," you whispered, pleading with him from the bottom of your heart. "I want to help you! B-But I don't know how! I need help to help you, I need to get out!"

"You're not going anywhere," he decided, cutting his hand through the air in a gesture signaling finality to his word. Kneeling down before you, he pulled you roughly into his chest, pressing your head against him. If there was any good that came out of the change, perhaps it was how open he was now to touches. You longed for this, for something longer than just a hug when you two met. But your heart was throbbing out of devastation now, rather than jumping from joy.

"Please get help," you pleaded, gripping his clothes. "I won't leave you, but please ask the brothers or Lord Diavolo for help, Simeon!"

"Never say their names again," he hissed at you, an unfamiliar hostility in his voice that brought you to tears. But Simeon held you as you cried into his chest. His comfort wasn't helpful, but what else did you have to cling to? If not for him, you would be alone and abandoned in this realm, and you had to painfully admit that he was indeed taking care of you. Good care. In his own, twisted way.

While you were still crying, Simeon carried you back to your room, laid you in your bed, and tugged you in. He did so with a frown deeply lodged on his beautiful face, the wrinkles so unfitting for an angel. But a small hope remained inside of you that you crying would make him see reason. Instead, he sat by your bedside as you two stared at each other, eventually muttering that he was going to get you some food before leaning down and kissing your forehead. You hated this affection. Actually, you hated that it was under these circumstances.

When Simeon got up, he left you without another look back over his shoulders, and you sniffled, the tears never drying out as you looked after him. So cold, so… lonely. He was in pain too, he must have been. If only there was a way to reverse it. To make him see reason and to calm his aching. You wished you could have helped him, at least a little bit. As a human, was there nothing you could do? Maybe just take some of the sins he was living through! As normal as they were for you, they were killing him from the inside.

The intense light from before flashed up as he opened the door to your room, blinding and stinging in your eyes. Still, you were already crying, and it was hard to avoid your gaze from Simeon even now. It was the first time you noticed his wings, usually concealed by magic, but as he used them, they came into plain view. You had believed until the last second that maybe there was a way to help him. To save him from this. But you were a little wiser as you looked at the feathers sprouting from his back. His beautiful, large wings.

Charred-black.

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yourmidnightlover · 4 years ago

Text

never stop loving me

Summary - Spencer lashes out at y/n after being upset for a while, only to be far too harsh and push her away.

TW: mean spencer, swearing, bomb, injured reader, kissing

WC - 5,647

masterlist

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spencer had been acting weird lately.

and it wasn't his normal, quirky, adorable weird self. it was quiet. too quiet. he didn't ramble like he usually did when you brought anything up.

he was distant. he didn't sit beside you on the plane ride home, or hold your hand as you drove the both of you to your shared apartment.

you didn't want to push him to say anything he didn't want to, but you were getting worried. you rarely had to corner him into talking, but there was the occasional time where you knew he wouldn't get through whatever it was eating himself up until he spoke up and voiced the words in his mind.

so when you both entered the apartment, you hung your coat up on the hook and placed your bag beside the couch as you plopped down.

"spencer?" you asked quietly as he hung his coat up. he turned to face you as you began to pat the seat beside you, wanting him to sit down. he complied with a huff as you took note that he sat at nearly the other end of the couch.

"what?" he asked without looking at you, you could sense the attitude in his voice.

"i'm worried about you," you whispered. "can you open up? what's bothering you right now?" you moved closer to him and placed a hand on his lower thigh comfortingly.

"you're worried about me?" he spat out, looking at you incredulously. "i'm sure that's true," he scoffed sarcastically, rolling his eyes as he flicked your hand off his leg.

"spencer why would yo-" you started as you scooted closer to him on the couch.

"why would i what? why would i not believe you when you ask me that? you're a smart girl, y/n. figure it out," he nearly yelled at you as he began to get up from the couch. you grabbed his hand with both of yours, not wanting him to leave you like that.

"please, spence. i just need to kno-"

"you should be able to figure it out yourself!" he shouted. "and stop touching me! oh my god all you ever do is touch me! did you ever think that maybe something's wrong with you if you have to always be touching someone? god! just don't ever touch me! you're so annoying! what the hell is wrong with you?"

"i-i'm sorry. i didn't think it wa-" you started apologizing.

"exactly! you didn't think! you never think about anyone but yourself! you never stopped to think about how fucking uncomfortable you touching me is! i hate being near you. i can't do it," he started shaking his head as he ran his hands over his face.

"wh-what?" you asked as the teas you didn't know were gathering in your eyes began spilling down your cheeks.

"you heard me," he said as he started to turn around. "i'm just gonna sleep alone tonight," he started walking towards your bedroom.

"i'll sleep on the couch," you spoke up before he made it to the room, he stopped in his tracks. "your back's been hurting lately, and you're too tall to fit on the couch comfortably. i'll sleep on the couch," you whispered, partially afraid that he wouldn't be able to hear you, wiping at the tears.

"whatever," he said as he finished his journey into the bedroom, not bothering to look at you.

you wanted to wait until he was asleep to get any blankets or anything, so the only things going through your mind were his words to you.

what the hell is wrong with you?

i hate being near you...

just don't ever touch me!

you weren't sure what was bothering him this much, but if you knew anything about spencer it was that that man could hold a grudge.

when emily had 'come back from the dead' it was like it was a different kind of person. it wasn't the spencer you fell in love with and you knew it, but that doesn't excuse his words.

so, you did what anyone in your position would do. you gave him space. you dialed the number of a trusted friend and colleague, praying she would pick up.

"hello?" the groggy voice rang out from the phone speaker.

"hi," you meekly replied. "sorry, i know it's pretty late. i umm," you sniffled, "i just didn't know who else to call."

"what happened, y/n? are you hurt? is everything okay?" she asked worried.

"yea, yea. everything's okay," you sighed. "i think spencer might just need some space is all."

"ummm, okay. is there anything i can do?"

"actually, yea? i hate to ask you this or put you in a weird position, but i was wondering if i could stay with you for a while?" you rambled out.

"of course you can. do you even have to ask?" she replied quietly.

"oh my gosh, you're a lifesaver. i-it might not be for long, i'm not really sure," you began. "it might be until spencer is ready, o-or maybe until i umm," you sniffled again, "until i find my own place?"

"that's okay, honey. i promise," she answered sweetly.

"thank you so much. i owe you, em," you sighed as you wiped the tears from your cheeks.

"don't even worry about it, y/n. i'm glad you came to me. are you coming here tonight?"

"if you don't mind... i'm not sure if spencer would want to see me when he umm, when he wakes up," you nodded even though she couldn't see you.

"okay. i'll be waiting."

"alright. i'll probably leave in like half an hour. bye."

"bye," she replied before you hung up.

you snuck into your bedroom, and noticed how spencer was sleeping peacefully.

you had began as friends at the bureau. you didn't even think of him in a romantic way until he admitted his feelings after one drunk night out with the team. it was sweet, a bit sloppy, but sweet.

he kept rambling about how beautiful you were, and how good you smelt when you would lay your head on his shoulder to fall asleep or when you were cuddled up on your couch watching movies. he told you about how you made him feel like less of a weirdo when he would ramble about things he knew, just wanting to be liked by others.

he mentioned how he loved that he could come to you for anything at any time. he also told you about how he appreciated that when you met him, you didn't try to shake his hand. you knew how uncomfortable he was with touching a stranger and allowed him to make the first move. you let him be the one to cross the bridge that was physical touch because you were just that caring for others, and that's truly what he loved about you from the beginning.

then he said that he would never tell you how much he liked you because he never wanted those things to stop.

by that time, you had already driven him back to his place, and helped him into bed. he begged you to stay, so you obliged kindly and opted to take the couch. he told you to stay in the bed with him. he was the one to pull you closer onto his chest. he was the one to stroke you hair as you fell asleep to the rhythm of his heartbeat.

he didn't even remember that night. he woke up with you in his arms, content with the warmth you provided him. he loved the way you instinctively curled into his chest even more.

you never brought it up.

then you realized that you felt the same for him on one of the later cases. you wanted to hold him while he cried, and rejoice with him when he had his wins. you wanted to hear his stupid rants about something as miniscule as sprinkles on a birthday cake. you wanted that closeness he graced you with. you just wanted him.

and now, as you picked a few more pieces of clothes to pack, you heard rustling coming from the sheets. you turned to see spencer now sitting up in bed, looking at you.

"...hi," you whispered with tight lips.

"what're you doing?" he asked. you couldn't tell what he was thinking since it was still dark.

"i'm umm, i was gonna stay with emily for a while," you said as you wiped the tears from your cheeks for the thousandth time. "i um, didn't think you'd want me to be here when you woke up," you nodded as you folded the clothes in your hands. "i was going to leave in about 20 minutes, so i'll be out soon," you felt your lip quivering.

you didn't want to cry in front of him. maybe it was that you wanted to have a sense of dignity, but if it came down to it you would bet that you just didn't want him to feel bad. even after he basically said he hated you.

because that's who you were.

you were a touchy person. that's how you show love to others. that's how others know you care for them.

but now he said he hated that about you.

he hated the way you would gently graze his hand with yours when you could tell he was upset. he hated the way you ran your hand through his hair when he was stressed. he hated the way you placed your hand on his shoulders when he was sad or frustrated.

he hated you.

and he just looked at you standing there. he didn't say anything. he looked at you as tears welled in your eyes from his words.

the words that felt like a burning blade being dragged along your spine. the words that felt like bile rising from your stomach.

"i'll just go now," you said as you ran out of the room and into the living room, not noticing the way that spencer followed you.

"hey," spencer spoke up as you piled the clothes into your go bag that was still beside the couch.

"yea?" you sniffled, not bothering to look at him while pulling on the sweater that was keeping you warm.

when you finally turned to see him he was looking at you with a blank expression. he was looking at the sweater you were wearing. you looked down at it, not remembering it was one of his he had let you worn during the case in north dakota. it was the one you wore when you realized your feelings for him, almost a month after he admitted them for you.

the one you wore when you shared your first kiss in the snow.

"oh," you said as you felt the tears build up again. "you... want it back?" you asked as the tear fell down your face, leaving a burning sensation that felt far better than what you felt inside.

he didn't say anything. you couldn't even see him since the tears were blinding you. so, you slowly unbuttoned the sweater and folded it nicely as you handed it to him.

"i-i'm sorry," you sniffled. "i didn't um - i didn't want to make you un-uncomfortable," you said as you zipped the bag up and grabbed your keys, heading to the door. "just know that i um, i love you."

and you were gone. you rushed out of the door. you didn't want to wait to see if he would tell you he loved you back, scared that you'd be waiting for a lifetime. so you ran to your car and drove off to emily's place, leaving spencer standing in the living room, frozen from what just happened.

but you couldn't see his heart breaking in return. he pulled his sweater up to his face and recognized the sweet scent of you on it that made him break down.

when he noticed how cold you were from the snow from forgetting your jacket at the hotel, he automatically gave you his. he didn't even care how cold he would get - just that you'd be a bit more comfortable.

he draped the sweater over your shoulders to help you put it on, and rubbed your arms for more friction to get you more warm. then, when you turned to look him in the face, you leaned in slowly and grabbed his face.

"can-is this okay?" you asked kindly.

he didn't even respond. he just connected his lips with yours after giving you the brightest smile. he relished in the moment of feeling content, whole, peace. you.

and now you gave him back that very sweater.

in reality, he was looking at the sweater you were wearing as a sign of hope. he thought that maybe since you were still wearing it, he hadn't completely squandered his chance of forgiveness with you.

but you gave him his sweater back with tears in your eyes.

he made you cry.

he drove you away.

when emily answered the door, you broke down in her arms, which was quite the role-reversal.

you were always the one to comfort the other team members. you never really went to anyone for help, you never wanted to burden them with your problems when they all had lives. you just wanted to help them. that's just how selfless you were.

"i'm here, y/n," emily consoled you. "let it out, sweetie. that's it," she stroked you hair as she led the two of you to the couch so you could cry in her arms.

when you finally calmed down a little bit, you started apologizing.

"i'm so sorry. i know it's really late, i just didn't know who else to go to and i'm just so..." you sniffled.

"don't worry about it. i'm glad you came to me. now, care to tell me what happened?"

so you told her. everything.

okay, so you made him seem like less of a douche bag, but you told her. you just tried to explain to her his side of the story, trying to be more understanding.

"and you feel bad? you aren't mad at him?" she questioned in disbelief.

"yea, of course i feel bad. being myself has made him uncomfortable, em. how could i be mad at him when i'm so hopelessly in love with him?" you asked in question.

"oh, sweetheart," she said as she pulled you back into a hug.

she had a plan.

okay, it wasn't much of a plan.

it was more of just chewing him out.

but she knew that would work.

because she also knew how much he loved you. and she knew there had to be a reason he was treating you like that.

the next day you had gotten called in at 4 a. m. with a new case. you drove to the office with emily and walked in behind her. once you saw spencer sitting at the round table in his normal seat beside yours, you felt a kind of rage boil inside of you.

he was just sitting there with a gloom look on his face, not trying to apologize for what he had said to you or anything. you'd thought that maybe he'd even look at you by now but he hasn't even noticed your presence. nothing.

you huffed, walking over to sit in a chair you normally wouldn't be in. spencer finally turned to see it was you who sat down, so you looked him up and down before turning your eyes towards hotch who was giving you all the briefing.

there was a bomber in charleston, california. he would send bomb to local corporations that had a history of animal testing. He was essentially trying to rid the world of those who harm animals, which is quite ironic since that involved killing humans.

each of the buildings were two stories, yet the bomb didn't level it. that's how you knew the bomb was meant to send a message rather than kill more people.

so until his message was spread and out in the open for all people, he'd continue to kill people without hesitation. human life wasn't valuable to him, so it was your job to stop him.

once you had gotten to california, you had all been divided into teams. you went with morgan and spencer to the most recent bomb site to analyze anything they might've missed.

the entire scene smelled like burnt papers, no surprise there. aside from the fact that people had previously died where you were standing, the tension in the air was so thick it felt as though the smoke had remained from the explosion.

you had avoided spencer, tried to talk to him as little as possible when you had to. unless it was for the case, you didn't speak. until hotch decided to room the two of you together.

you had asked the girls if you could room with them, only for them to refuse and make you 'work things out with your beau.' so essentially, you were screwed.

you trudged into the room before spencer had made it, being sure to lock the door behind you just to annoy spencer. was it petty? sure. did he deserve it? yes. would you apologize? absolutely not.

once you turned around, you realized there was only one bed. of course hotch would do that. what a dick. you sighed before placing your things on the couch, deciding that spencer's back pain is completely different than being temporarily locked out of your room. you were truly doing it for yourself so you wouldn't have to hear him complain the next day about his back hurting.

after you had gotten out of the shower, your body in only a small towel, you heard the door knock. you knew it was spencer, his signature knock giving it away, and decided you could open it for him. when he realized you were practically naked and everyone had a view of you from the hallway, he quickly pushed you further inside along with himself and slammed the door shut.

"what the hell, y/n?" he whisper-yelled at you, gesturing to what you were wearing. "anybody could've seen you and you're practically naked!"

"and?" you crossed your arms over your chest. "i don't see why you should have any say so in what i'm wearing."

"you're wearing a towel," he stated as if you hadn't already known.

"and?" you shrugged. "is my body making you uncomfortable? is that why you don't want to touch me, spencer?" you rolled your eyes before turning to get your clothes from your suitcase.

you decided to just strip right in front of him, just to tease him a bit more. you slowly slid the towel down your body, your back still towards spencer as you shimmied into your shorts that barely covered anything. you turned around to get your shirt, revealing your bare chest to spencer who stood in awe of what was happening in front of him. you put your thin shirt on tantalizingly slow, aware that he could probably see your nipples through the fabric, but that was the entire point.

spencer walked over to you slowly, you smiled at him happily as he approached you. when he brought his hands up to cup your face gently, you swatted his hands away from you.

"ah-ahh," you shook your head no. "there's no touching allowed," you rolled your eyes one last time before getting comfortable on the couch, pulling the one extra blanket in the room over your body in an attempt to keep warm.

as the minutes turned into an hour, you felt yourself becoming more upset. his words, even if he didn't mean them, had an impact on you. he couldn't just unsay the words or take them back, that's not how it works. instead, he made you live with the thought and constant worry that you made him uncomfortable by touching him.

and that pained you. that pain turned into tears, which ensued sniffling because of your runny nose. and your tears and sniffles pained spencer even more. he listened in wait as you cried yourself to sleep once more, the sniffled slowing down which told him of your slumber.

when you woke up, you had realized you were awake before spencer. you quickly got ready and made your way downstairs to retrieve some mediocre coffee. deciding to not be a complete asshole, you got spencer his own cup as well just how he liked it and placed it on the bedside table for when he would wake up.

when he did wake up, it was to the smell of coffee beside him. he had obviously realized you had gotten it for him, he wasn't a complete idiot other than the fact that he had hurt you in the first place. when he took a sip of it, it was just as he liked it.

of course it was, he thought, it's you.

since there were so many animal activists that were recorded online, you couldn't really narrow down the suspect range. once you had all made it back to the precinct that morning, they had widdled down all the companies that have ever used testing on animals. there were four companies in total, so you would all split up and investigate each one.

you, of course, had been paired with spencer once again. it was obviously the rest of the team conspiring to get you two to make up, but he hadn't even apologized. and you refused to make the first move.

so as you drove to the company you had been assigned, there was yet again that irritable tension in the air that made it seem like someone could choke on it. you pulled into the parking lot and got out as quickly as you could.

making your way inside, you asked where the owner of the company was while flashing your badge, spencer making his way inside just in time to catch where you were going and follow.

"hi, ma'am," you introduced yourself, extending your hand for her to shake. "i'm here in regards for the-"

"recent bombings? yes, i figured you would be," barbara cooke sighed as she released your hand.

"yes, i'm agent y/n yl/n/ and this is dr. spencer reid," you motioned to him as he gave her an awkward wave. "we were wondering if you've received any recent threats concerning your history in-"

"animal testing? we get those all the time, agent... what was it again?" she asked disrespectfully.

"y/l/n," you informed her once again.

"right, well we get those too often for it to be significant. in fact, we get those almost weekly," she rolled her eyes before turning back to the computer on her desk.

"ma'am, if you wouldn't mind just trying to think of a threat that stuck out to you. one in particular that made it seem as though they might follow through?" spencer asked kindly.

"i actually do mind. i have a company to run and don't need to waste my time on something that won't ever affect me. so please, see yourselves out," she motioned to the door with a sigh.

you and spencer looked at each other before turning around and leaving her office. instead, you decided to ask the employees if they saw anyone that seemed as though they were landscaping the office.

"no, not really. i'm too busy trying to finish the work cooke gives me."

"i'm sorry, no. i try to just ind my own business around here."

"i'm sorry, there have been bombings?"

there wasn't much luck.

you were making your rounds right back to the front of the office, asking nearly everyone that you passed if they noticed anyone suspicious until you noticed a mailman near the front of the room.

he was dressed in an all-brown outfit, but with no logo of what company he worked for. not even a hat to display the name. all the companies that delivered had company logos displayed on the outfits, just to display for publicity.

when you looked around at who was near you, your eyes locked on spencer who was walking towards you, his head down. once you saw the mailman walk out of the office and saw the lady at the front desk begin to open the tape, you grabbed spencer by the arm.

it all happened so quickly.

you pushed spencer out of the door and locked it, blocking him from the blast that would surely ensue, and ran as quick as you could to drag the woman away from the box. you shielded her with your body, turning your back to where the bomb would go off to lessen the impact on her body. before you could even register what happened, you were pushed into the wall cati-corner the desk, knocking you unconscious.

spencer didn't know what was happening until he heard the bomb.

he assumed the blast wasn't as intense as it was previously by the fact that the second story was still standing. the blast from the other bombs at least made a bit of a dent in the second story.

in an instant, he realized that he might've lost you forever. the love of his life. gone.

and you were still mad at him. you hated him. you thought he hated you.

once he was able to form a coherent thought, he pulled his phone out and called 911, being sure to tell them there was a possible agent down in an explosion. once he hung up, he mustered up his inner derek morgan and kicked the doors in, it helped that they were already frail due to the explosion.

with the doors now open, smoke flowed out of the now open space, looking for an escape as spencer was looking for his love. all he could hear were coughs and whines of the employees around him. then he felt a hand on his shoulder, he looked to see the face of the lady from the front desk.

"she-she saved me," the woman told spencer in reference to you. "she's over here," spencer helped her navigate himself to where your body lay limp on the ground, drywall covering your face and body.

"oh my god, y/n," he called as he moved the rubbish from your body before looking for a pulse.

he found himself whispering a series of pleas that you were okay, that he would find the pulse in your neck or wrist. that he would feel the warmth off your body against his, be able to touch your skin and have you grab his hand when you were nervous. he wanted you to never stop touching him.

because ever since you had joined the bureau, you had been a touchy person. you were the person people went to when they needed comfort because they wanted a hug. you were the person the team counted on when comforting the mothers or children because you had a comforting touch.

and he wanted that comfort. he needed that comfort right then. but the one person he needed the comfort from didn't think he wanted it from them. you didn't think he wanted you anymore.

so you had to be okay. because he couldn't imagine a world where you weren't his, which sounds so cliche but couldn't be any more true.

ever since you waltzed into his life, he could never remember what it was like without you. what it was like without your hand running through his soft hair. without your hand on his knee underneath the bau table during a meeting. without your face buried in his neck while you were cuddling at night. without your kiss...

without you.

he needed you.

and he found the small, faint, minuscule pulse that beat throughout your body. a gentle but safe way to know you were alive and still with him. maybe you'd still want to be with him.

when the ambulance arrived, he didn't hesitate to hop in the back of the van, opting to call the team to inform them of what happened.

they had put an oxygen mask on you to ensure your safety and had told him that you had a concussion from the blast. they would do further tests once they got to the hospital, which felt like it took forever, according to spencer.

once they had wheeled you away, spencer sat in wait once again. the team slowly trickled in, trying to comfort spencer but ultimately failing. when the doctor finally came in, spencer was the first to jump up and ask how you were.

"she'll make a full recovery, she's rather lucky," he nodded at spencer before checking his chart. "she has three bruised ribs and a minor concussion. she'll be able to fly in a couple of days, but will have to stay out of the field until her ribs are fully healed. she shouldn't be doing any strenuous activities until then as well," he informed the doctor. "other than that she's healthy as a horse."

"thank you. can i see her now?" spencer asked eagerly.

"yes, of course," he nodded before turning around. "right this way."

when spencer came into your room, your eyes were barely open. it looked like you were struggling to stay awake. your face and arms were littered with an occasional bruise, which he's sure were worse on your stomach and legs. your skin was a bit paler than usual, it didn't have that glow you normally had, that liveliness.

but you still looked like you. you still looked beautiful.

spencer took the seat beside your bed and moved it closer to you, taking your hand in his before you snatched it away, turning on your side to face the wall opposite of where spencer sat.

"y/n, please..." spencer pleaded, feeling his eyes well with tears. he thought you were just angry at him until he heard your soft sniffles. "darling, please look at me," he placed his hand on your shoulder, gently pulling you back to face him. you turned yourself back around to face him, eyes red and swollen as your lip was quivering.

"what?" you spat out, trying to maintain your own composure until you saw he was crying himself. you raised your brows in shock before asking him, "what's wrong?"

he laughed, "you're asking me what's wrong?" you nodded. "i'm just so, so sorry i'm sorry i said all those things about you. i'm sorry it took you almost dying for me to apologize. and i'm sorry for ever making you feel like i didn't love you, y/n. i love you so much. every part of you, your touch included. it's anything but annoying. it's comforting, and sweet, and calming, and does so much more to help me than it does hurt or annoy me," he took your hand in his once more, placing a kiss to your knuckles. "i love you so much and i'm so sorry."

"and i'm sorry i had to touch you to push you out of the way of an explosion," you rolled your eyes with a chuckle so he knew you were joking.

"thanks for that, by the way - saving me," he shrugged. "which brings me to my next point... do you know how reckless that was? how dangerous and stupid and how you could have died? because you could have died and if you died i don't know what i'd do with myself. especially knowing you were mad at me when you died," he held your hand to his chest so you could feel how his heart broke in those moments he didn't know if you were alive. the moments he thought he might've lost you forever.

"but i'm alive. i'm right here," you assured him, bringing his hand to your lips this time to press a kiss before holding the one with both of yours. "why'd you say those things anyway? why were you so upset?"

"well remember the officer that was on the case?" you nodded. "remember how he kept touching you?" you rolled your eyes with a nod.

"god, it was so annoying," you interjected.

"well it didn't seem like you thought it was annoying," he avoided eye contact with you, you pulled his arm to get his attention once again.

"are you saying you thought i wanted him to be so handsy?" you questioned, he nodded guiltily. "spencer, are you kidding?" you chuckled. "i had to do that because if he knew i hated him he wouldn't have been so cooperative. i promise, you are the only one for me. you're the only one i want to touch me like that. but that doesn't excuse you talking to me like that. you saying those things hurt me, a lot."

"i know, i know they did... and i plan on making it up to you. i will make it up to you, i swear," he nodded along eagerly.

"yea, you better dr. reid. i'm holding you to that," you huffed out a laugh, spencer following suit as he leaned forward to press a kiss to your forehead.

then to your nose. then right and left cheeks. then your lips. it wasn't a kiss that demanded anything. it wasn't hostile or passionate. it was content. it was a way of showing you love and saying that your love was enough. that you were enough.

"i love you, spencer," you whispered as he pressed his forehead against yours.

"and i love you, y/n," he whispered back. "please never stop loving me the way you do."

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