#here's to hoping you find the right words to explain that feeling‚ anon

[front-facing-pokemon]

Groundon front facing the camera gives me a feeling i don't know how to explain

[bananayuyu]

Cabin Fever [part 2]

Pairing: Yunho x f reader

Genre: fluff and smut

Word count: 9.7k

Summary: The third day of your trip brings a storm, and even more cramps. You try to navigate the day the best you can, but really you just need to be taken care of, in the way it matters most.

Warnings: MDNI, smut, fingering, period sex, use of a condom, reader has really bad cramps again, some mxm (Seonghwa and Hongjoong)

A/n: I have had such a fun time writing this part, thank you all for the response on part 1! I am falling in love with this cozy world and wish I could live in it for real. Thank you so much to the anon who requested a part 2! I hope you all enjoy <3

Taglist: @pautiny27 @kierraperkins3 @yoonjikim @luvbit3z @pancake-freckle

I'm definitely planning on continuing the series for a while so if you want to be tagged for upcoming parts, let me know!

You can read part 3 here!

You stretch over to find your phone, unhooking it from its charging cable. The light is dim through the window, the room looks almost hazy. Squinting at the screen, you see a missed text from Seonghwa asking if you're doing okay, sent an hour ago.

"It's almost 11:30, we should really get up," you yawn, poking Yunho in the ribs to get his attention. He has once again wrapped himself around you tightly, face buried in your hair, and you're not sure if he's even awake.

"No," he groans, his voice low and gravely. It sends a shudder through you, and all of the feelings from last night surface again. You can already feel the pains starting in your lower abdomen, the muscles cramping. You wish it could be night already and he could be making you feel good again.

"We can't just stay in here all day," you say, much as you sort of want to. But you also don't want to waste a day of your time with all of your other friends. Yunho just groans, not wanting to agree with you but knowing you're right. He's just so asleep still, so in the haze of sleeping next to you. He really just wants to stay like this, forever.

"Okay, well, I really have to pee," you say, giggling, peeling yourself off of him. He lets out a small sound of disappointment but doesn't stop you. You turn around and see his tousled hair, his puffy, sleepy eyes. You lean down and place a quick kiss on his temple before making your way to the bathroom, another pad in hand.

The cramps hit you again when you're sat on the toilet, and you double over, feeling light-headed. It doesn't seem like you're bleeding quite as hard as yesterday but you still feel awful, despite all of the restful sleep you got. You gingerly clean yourself up, holding onto the counter as you stand, pausing for a moment so you don't pass out. You sigh, trying not to feel the frustration. But it's hard not to.

When you open the door you are met with Yunho, his messy hair now covered up by his hoodie, his eyes still very sleepy.

"Sorry for taking so long," you say, assuming he really needed to pee. You aren't paying attention, the cramps overwhelming you.

"Hey, look," he says as you start walking past. When you do finally look back you see that he's brought you pain meds and a glass of water. Your face softens immediately.

"Oh, thank you," you say, taking them immediately.

"Are they bad today?" he asks, a hand on your cheek. You just nod. "Go lay down then."

"I wanna hang out with everyone, though," you pout, looking at the floor.

"Well, go lay in the living room then," he suggests.

"Okay," you mumble, heading that way with your glass of water in hand. He watches you walk away, an obvious discomfort and weakness in your body, and it makes his chest hurt. When you were friends in high school he really only saw you on your good days, when you were feeling okay. It wasn't until living with you that he really saw the worst of everything, the truth of your health issues. You never spoke of them often, never truly explained it to him. Living together had forced you to, and when he showed himself to be genuinely good at caring for you, you'd let him in a bit more. He knew you didn't like the idea of people seeing you at your sickest. He never gave much thought to the idea when he was younger, that some people's bodies are wracked with issues from the start, that they never get to know what it's like to be able to rely on your body to carry you through everything. You were so young; though you were the same age as most of the rest of the friend group, you'd always been seen as the baby. He certainly always thought of you as small, in need of protection. He didn't want to tell you that, because he knew you'd hate the idea. It didn't help that you were smarter than most of them, when it came to the practical and academic aspects of life. You were far more mature in many ways. But they had the healthy bodies; they were the ones who were able to move out at eighteen, to become financially independent. It would take you many more years, and two very supportive friends to live with you, before you could move out.

When you make it to the living room you plop down next to Ari and San, snuggling under a blanket. The cabin was colder than you expected, the sky outside still dark.

"Has it been like that all morning?" you ask Ari, staring out the window.

"It was actually raining for a while earlier, it just stopped maybe thirty minutes ago."

"Oh really? No wonder I slept in so long," you reply, sighing into the warmth of your blanket.

"Are you doing okay?" she asks.

"Yeah, but I still feel like crap," you say, frowning. Sipping your water you try to relax, try to get your mind away from how terrible your lower abdomen feels.

"Do you need any pain meds?" she asks you, her face showing obvious concern. Even San is turned towards you and looking worried.

"No, no, I just took some. Thank you though," you respond, squeezing her hand. "I should probably eat something though, I'm starving."

"I think Seonghwa and Hongjoong are making some lunch, I'll go get you some," San replies, standing up.

"Oh, you don't have to," you start, taken aback by the kindness of this almost total stranger. But he walks that way anyway, not stopping at your words.

"He's so freaking nice, what the hell," you say to Ari.

"I know," she laughs, shaking her head. "I almost can't believe it's real sometimes."

"Men just aren't usually like that," you say, and right then Yunho crosses the room, making brief eye contact with you. He heads towards the kitchen, looking like his mind is set on something.

"The guys in our friend group are," she replies.

"Well, that's true. I guess I should say, straight men aren't usually like that, especially if they aren't romantically interested in you," you clarify. "At least not in my experience in the world, and I barely interact with men or go out in public."

"I know, the amount of horrifying behavior I saw at college is crazy. And even now still at my work. I know so many people tried to warn me to be careful around men when I was growing up, but I did not realize just how scary it would be to be in the adult world and have a uterus," she replies. She looks at you, earnestly; how nice it is to have another girl in your group, who understands what it is to exist in the world in your bodies.

"Uteruses should be banned," you say, placing a hand on your stomach. "This thing needs to get the hell out of my body."

Ari laughs, the bright sound raising your spirits. "I would have taken it out for you myself years ago, if I could," she laughs, resting her head on your shoulder.

"What just, reached up inside and like, pulled it out?" you laugh.

"Girl, your mind goes to the strangest places. Now I can't get that visual out of my head," she laughs, a hand coming to rest over her eyes.

"I wish I could do it myself," you reply, "just like-" you reach your hand down and spread your legs, miming the action; you both break into giggles.

"What was that?" Yunho asks as he sits down next to you, a cup of tea in hand. He holds it out towards you, careful to hand you the handle so you don't burn your hands.

"Y/n just being her usual self," Ari replied, still laughing. Yunho just looked confused, sipping at his own cup of coffee.

"I was showing her how I'd remove my uterus, if I could. I wish someone could just reach up in there and take it out," you clarify.

"You should make Yunho do it, he's got big hands," she says.

"Ari!" you shriek, crumpling into a heap of laughter with her. Yunho's ears go red, and he clears his throat to try to calm himself.

"You two are something else," he says, turning away, looking for anyone else to make conversation with.

"Wait, did Yunho make you that cup of tea?" Ari asked you, and at the mention of his name his attention stayed put.

"Yeah," you reply, not sure why she's interested. "He makes me and Hwa tea and coffee like all the time."

"That's sweet. See, we're so lucky to have these boys. He's the perfect example of a straight man who has no romantic interest in you, but still takes care of you."

You know she means it earnestly, from the way a small smile creeps onto her lips, making her eyes crinkle at the corners. But you and Yunho both stop dead in your tracks, your throats simultaneously going dry.

"Yeah, true," you say, trying to be normal. Like this morning, when Seonghwa found you in bed together. The words come out rough and you try to swallow, but it hurts and your eyes squeeze shut for a moment. You take another sip of your tea, trying to appear calm.

"What, Yunho, did I say something weird?" Ari asks, and you look over to see his stony face, his eyes looking almost distant. Something about it makes your heart drop for a moment, and you don't know why. Something in you begs for him to act normal too, but you realize there's no point. No point in pretending like nothing happened, even if you don't know what it means.

"I need to tell you something," you whisper to Ari, your face just inches from her ear. She leans even closer, clearly excited by your tone. You drop your volume even lower, putting your hand over your mouth to block the sound from going anywhere else. "Last night he like, fingered me."

"What?!" she asks in a whisper, her eyes going wide with excitement.

"Shh, please keep your face normal," you beg her, knowing that isn't possibly going to happen. But you don't want everyone to find out this very second, you'd like it to stay between the two of you. Ari does her best to still her face, knowing you don't want to draw attention. At least it's fairly normal, for the two of you to share secrets. The boys have always respected when you two say something is just for your ears.

"Yeah I was like, hurting last night and he like, made me feel better," you whisper, you both breaking out into giggles.

"Girl," she says, clearly wanting you to continue.

"I'll tell you everything once there's not like twenty people in the room with us," you say, a goofy smile not leaving your face.

"Aww," she says poking your cheek, and you swat her hand away, jokingly rolling your eyes. Ari keeps looking between the two of you, observing the way his body seems drawn towards you even as he sits a bit away, his legs stretching out to meet yours. She has so many questions, seeing as you'd never mentioned having a crush on him. His crush on you had been obvious to her for a while, but she'd never really mentioned it. It always seemed that people in the group had crushes from time to time, due to everyone's closeness. But sometimes they passed, sometimes they came to nothing; sometimes those crushes seemed like little more than someone mistaking their strong love and affection as something more. It was one of the reasons your group of friends had stayed close for so long; no one really forced closeness or forced information out of one another. Everyone let each other be, and let the cards fall where they may. Sometimes she felt like it made you less close than you could be. But she knew it also meant no one felt stepped on or smothered.

***

After lunch was served the weather had cleared a bit, and Jongho suggested that everyone play a game of basketball out on the small court to the south of the cabin. Not one of you had plans for the day, and with the way the weather was behaving that was definitely a good thing. You and Ari laid on the couch together, barely overhearing the conversation unfolding. You knew even if you wanted to you couldn't go and play, and the warmth of the couch was a lifesaver against the damp coolness in the air. The rain was not unusual for the time of year, but you swore it never had been this cold during your cabin trips.

"Will you stay inside with me?" you asked her.

"Of course. I wouldn't leave you alone in here. Also, I don't really feel like getting hurt today. You know how competitive they all get," she laughs, holding up her arm and showing you a large cut on the underside.

"My god, what's that from?" you ask.

"Wooyoung pushed me when we were playing waterpolo by the falls, and I scraped my arm on one of the rocks."

"Of course it was him," you chuckle, taking a closer look. "Did you wash it out yesterday?"

"It's not really that deep, but yeah. I'm sure it'll heal quick. I just really don't feel like playing basketball on a wet, slick court."

"And it's so cold, I don't know why they feel like going outside."

"It's not that cold," she says, looking at you confused.

"Wait, really?" you ask. She shakes her head. "Ok well for some reason, I'm freezing."

"One sec," she says, getting up and taking a blanket from the other side of the bed. "Y/n is cold," she says to the group, pointing to you all curled up in your one blanket. Everyone grabs their remaining blankets and one by one, layer them on you.

"This is too much," you whine, but you can't deny you like the attention. You really appreciate the way they all joke around with you; it always makes you feel better.

When all of the boys headed out to play, you finally got a chance to tell Ari everything.

"Your periods are still that bad?" Ari asks you when you tell her how you were feeling the previous night. "You hardly ever mention it anymore."

"It's just, so normal at this point. I guess. I don't know, you know it isn't fun to talk about. Plus this one really has been extra bad. I haven't had one this bad in a while," you respond.

"Well I'm glad he was there to comfort you. You know you could have told everyone how you were feeling yesterday. You didn't have to pretend like you were fine at dinner."

"I don't know, Wooyoung's cousins are here and so is San, I don't really know any of them," you say.

"Let me assure you, San would not care. And I doubt Woo's cousins would either, I mean we've been around them before, they seem very kind. He wouldn't bring them around you if he thought they'd be weird about something as simple as that. I know Woo acts like he doesn't give a shit about anything, but he really cares about you. I overheard him asking Seonghwa this morning how you've been doing," she replies. You look at her tenderly, thankful she shared it with you. As much as you wish Wooyoung would just ask you, you know it's not his way. It warms your heart to know he cares.

"So, how long have you liked Yunho then?" she asks you.

"Dude, I literally don't know. I don't even know what I feel right now," you sigh, shaking your head at her. "I mean, he was really just helping ease my cramps, cause I basically begged him too. And I get fucking horny on my period, I don't know." You put your head in your hands. "I don't even know what words were coming out of my mouth last night."

"So is it just a sexual thing then?" she asks.

"I'm assuming that's how he feels, I mean he's never said anything to the contrary."

"No, I mean for you," she clarifies.

"I.. I don't know. I don't hook up with people, and he's like, one of my best friends, I-" you cut yourself off with a groan, head spinning. "I'm gonna develop feeling for him and he's not gonna feel the same and we live together and it's gonna be a fucking mess," you blurt out, your mind racing out of control.

"Y/n, that man loves you," Ari says, squeezing your shoulder.

"I know Ari, I'm not saying he'd be an asshole about it. But it would still be so awkward for me, and if you love someone platonically that doesn't just change overni-"

"No, he's in love with you," she cuts you off.

"He's said those words to you?" you ask her, incredulous.

"No, but it's obvious to anyone with eyes," she says. You squint questioningly in her direction, feeling like she's just saying what she thinks you want to hear. "Dude I'm serious, Seonghwa has told me about it, the way he is around you. If he's not in love with you then I don't know what it could be."

"He's dated like multiple people since we've known him though, that doesn't make sense," you reply.

"Not since moving in with you," she says. "Has he ever brought any girls over to hang out with? Or to hook up?"

"No," you say, head still spinning.

"That's not because of like, a house rule or something, right?"

"No, we talked about it, we're all okay with bringing people over. Hwa brings over guys sometimes. Well he did when we first moved in, not really this past year."

"But Yunho never has?" she asks again.

You shake your head. "That doesn't mean anything, Ari. He's barely even spoken to me this morning, anyway. He doesn't seem like he's in love. Seems like normal Yunho to me."

"He brought you tea," she says, smirking.

"Oh my god, he always does that," you say, rolling your eyes and also smiling. "I- I don't know how to feel."

"Would you do it again?" she asks. You nod. "Do you like, really really want to do it again?" she continues, making you laugh.

"Yeah," you say, hiding your face in your hands.

"Well, at least you know that. Don't stress about it," she says. "It can just be a fun little thing, it doesn't have to be life changing."

You sigh, soaking in her words. You know what she's saying is absolutely right; it's the kind of advice you'd probably be giving her if the tables were turned. But something about your night with Yunho meaning so little doesn't sit right with you.

"Can you please not tell anyone, not even San? For right now, I don't know what Yunho wants to say," you plead.

"Of course, you don't have to worry about that. I don't share things with San just cause he's my boyfriend, I don't think that's fair to my friends," she responds, hugging you.

"I'm so thankful you're here," you say, sighing comfortingly into her embrace.

"Me too. I love them all but they can be a lot," she says, and you both chuckle. Tucked into your layers of blankets you feel warm and cozy, and your chest feels lighter having told someone about your previous night.

***

Close to 3pm, the storm rolls back in to the area; the winds pick up, the clouds darken, and suddenly rain is pouring down. It sounds like the roof of the cabin is being repeatedly pelted with golfballs, the dull sound surprisingly loud. Suddenly all of the boys are sprinting back inside, their wet shoes squeaking on the tile of the kitchen floor. All of them are thoroughly soaked, their hair sticking to their foreheads, clothes stuck to their bodies. They tumble in one after the other, Wooyoung the last to make it in, and you hear his scream all the way from outside. When they finally get inside they all start undressing, their clothes heavy and cold.

"Didn't realize we were staying at a strip club," Ari says, making you laugh. You know they're just uncomfortable, but you can't help but stare at Yunho as he disrobes, his light blue shirt dripping on him as he heaves it over his head. You don't really see him shirtless like this, even though you live together. He's not one for walking around like that. You'd forgotten how broad he really was, how strong his shoulders are. As he goes to ring out his shirt in the sink you see his tricep flex, and the smooth muscles of his back as well. He's tall and lanky, but you'd forgotten just how muscular he was too.

"You're kind of gawking, just so you know," Ari whispers in your ear, making you jump.

"Oh my god, I'm gross," you groan, burrowing your head in her shoulder.

"No not gross, not gross at all. Fuck, every time San is shirtless I want him to fuck me immediately." You glance over at Ari's boyfriend, already anticipating the muscles you're about to see. You could tell even when he was clothed how built he was.

"How often is at the gym?" you ask.

"Basically every day. He can like, easily pick me up and throw me around. And I'm not exactly the lightest person in the world."

"If that's not everyone's dream," you say, giggling.

"Can't Yunho carry you?" she asks.

"Yeah but I'm basically like a sickly little worm, it's not that hard. Even Hwa can lift me," you laugh,

"Okay, well, he can still lift you. And how big is your height difference?"

You just smile at her question, knowing you are blushing.

"God, if we aren't the most simple of women," she laughs.

"No no, I'll have you know I'm very full of logic and feminism and I do not care about muscles, or height, or anything of the sort. Never in my wildest dreams have I thought about how tall he is in comparison to me and gotten all hot and bothered about it," you joke, your blush having moved to your cheeks too.

"So you have thought about him like that!" she exclaims.

"Keep it down!" you chide, when you see Seonghwa shoot a look over at the two of you.

"Sorry, sorry," she laughs, pouting at you. "What are you looking at?" she says to Seonghwa, who rolls his eyes.

***

After the boys had changed and dried off, Wooyoung insisted that everyone watched a scary movie. You were all stuck inside, and everyone had already spent the morning talking and catching up.

"'It matches the vibe of the storm," he said. "It'll be so fun," he laughed, smirking in your direction. He knew how you couldn't handle jump scares and didn't like gore. He promised you the movie he'd selected didn't have either.

"It's more like, a psychological thriller, you know? It's really fun. Set in a cabin in the woods too."

"Okay, fine," you replied, hoping he was telling the truth.

He was, in fact, lying. You found that out about twenty minutes later.

The loud bang made you jump, causing you to launch sideways and grab onto the closest thing to you. It happened to be Yunho's arm.

When everyone sat down, Yunho sat himself right next to you, but didn't say a word. Everyone was chatting, the room filled with chaos as they came down from the adrenaline rush the storm had caused. Ari got up to sit with San and help him dry off, and when Yunho saw you sitting alone he was almost thankful. He didn't know why, but everything Ari had said earlier made him feel almost jumpy. He had seen the two of you giggling and whispering to each other, and felt like something was happening that he didn't understand. When he approached you your face looked distant, and he almost worried you didn't want him there, that you would have preferred her. He sat with his arm around the back of the couch behind you. But when you didn't lean into him at all, didn't seem comfortable with it, he pulled it back down to his side.

"Woo, you promised me!" you whisper yelled after you jumped, your grip on Yunho so strong it almost hurt. You felt so embarrassed at how easily scared you were.

"That wasn't even a jump scare, just a loud sound," Yunho said, and the room chuckled. You frowned, pulling yourself away from him. You weren't sure why you were so sensitive, but what he said made you feel small. And not in a good way.

Everyone else's attention was back on the movie in a second, but Yunho couldn't stop looking at you and your sullen face.

"Hey, I'm sorry," he whispered, leaning ever so slightly towards you. "Come here," he said, moving his arm around your shoulders this time, gently pulling you towards him. You stuffed your head into his chest, suddenly feeling overwhelmed. You weren't sure if you even wanted his comfort. You completely tuned out the movie, closing your eyes. You mind raced with thoughts from the day, and you suddenly realized you hadn't had a chance to talk to Seonghwa. You had wanted to assure him of what was happening, because he lived with you both. You didn't want him worried that you and Yunho had been keeping something from him, sneaking around behind his back. But as you peaked around the room to find his face, you didn't see him anywhere. You felt confused, and exhausted, and suddenly realized how cold you were again. You tried to tuck yourself into the blankets more but it just wasn't enough, so finally you decided to go grab Yunho's hoodie from the library. Maybe one more layer would help.

You slowly crawl your way out of the room, careful not to block anyone's view of the TV. When you finally stand up you're at the edge of the very short hallway that leads to the library. As you stand you notice how dark the sky looks. This window faces out towards the fire pit, and sits where the cabin is directly under a few trees and your view is limited. Still, the view is beautiful. The rain has become more gentle now, and the soft sound soothes you as you look out across the land splattered with greenery. The plants, the trees, they're the reason you really like being out here. You hope that today's the last day you'll have to spend inside, nursing your body. Some movement in your periferral vision catches your eye, and you sweep your gaze back towards the fire pit and the ring of trees that surrounds it. Suddenly you realize why you couldn't find Seonghwa earlier.

Outside, on a lounging chair just to the left of the fire pit, Seonghwa and Hongjoong are kissing. They must have snuck out while the rest of you were occupied with the movie, you realize. You aren't sure how you missed them at first, but in the darkness of the storm and shadow of the trees they almost blended into the landscape. Seonghwa is sat against he back of the chair and Hongjoong is over him, a hand on Seonghwa's thigh. You see him move that hand to pull on Seonghwa's silky black hair, the kiss clearly passionate, heated. The rain patters down around them, but in the cover of the trees they don't look soaked. They certainly don't look bothered. You can't tell, really, from this far away. You shouldn't be trying to look that hard, anyway. You try to tell yourself that. But you're mesmerized, stuck to the spot. You feel overcome with how beautiful they both are.

Soon they're tugging at each other's shirts, and you can tell now from the way they take them off that they must pretty damp. In the struggle you see Hongjoong's muscular back and arms; Seonghwa's face is the picture of lust, his hands moving down quickly to reach inside Hongjoong's pants and start stroking him. They're kissing again, Seonghwa's lean chest heaving, Hongjoong grabbing his legs to wrap them around himself. Tangled together they look like a perfectly choreographed ballet, like they both know exactly where the other is headed. You see Hongjoong's hips start to buck, his mouth moving down to Seonghwa's ear, then neck, his iron grip on Seonghwa's thigh leaving a mark you can see all the way from the window. Seeing the red mark brings a heat to your cheeks; the image of your porcelain doll of a friend being marked up by such a muscular man is not something you thought you'd ever witness. Now that you have, you can't help but think they're perfect together. Suddenly Hongjoong is sitting back, his hands pulling on the band of Seonghwa's shorts and throwing them aside, and you see how hard Seonghwa is, his movements showing how obviously needy he is.

Fuck, I really should stop watching them, you think. You'd seen them both naked before, it's not like your friend group was uncomfortable with much. But this was obviously different, and the way your body was feeling while you witnessed it made you feel a confused and a little guilty. Still, you could not pull yourself away, as you saw Hongjoong lean down over Seonghwa and say something, and Seonghwa's lips curl up in a smile, his head turning to the side as he grabbed onto Hongjoong's arm. They looked so, so in love. With Seonghwa's legs spread Hongjoong reached down, his hand moving between his cheeks, moving in a way you could not make out from your distance. Seonghwa's head fell back in obvious pleasure, and his back arched slightly showing off his lean abdomen. Hongjoong moved his head down to suck on one of his nipples, making Hwa's back arch even further and his mouth fall open. He looked so completely content in such a vulnerable state, and it made your heart ache with happiness. In all of the conversations you'd had with him over the years, you knew he always felt so self-conscious in these situations. It was always shocking to you, given just how beautiful he was. He got propositioned out in public more than anyone in your group, and had to continually turn people down given the industry he worked in. But all of that attention felt uncomfortable to him, usually, and you knew that. To see him so unabashedly open with someone was a rare sight.

Hongjoong's hand moves up and then you see, a tiny glint of something metal in his hand. It must have been a plug Seonghwa had inside himself already. When had he put that in? It must have been after the game, so before the movie? When did he even have the time? You can't stop watching the way Hongjoong lines himself up, stroking a hand through Seonghwa's hair again, finally pushing himself in ever so slowly. The plug sits next to them on the lounging chair, and you swear the gem on the end twinkles at you. He starts thrusting slowly, kissing Seonghwa's cheek, the rain starting to pick up again. It all feels so cinematic, like it couldn't have been more perf-

"What are you looking at?" Yunho whispers into your ear, sliding up behind you. You jump, spinning away from the window and covering your eyes, your elbow hitting him in the ribs.

"Oh god, ow," he says, grabbing his side.

"You scared me," you pout, your head feeling full of molasses from all of the feelings you are having.

"I whispered," he replied. "Why are you so jumpy, are you okay? Why did you you leave the couch?"

"I was cold, I was gonna grab your hoodie. But then, the window, you know, it was pretty outside with the storm and stuff," you reply, averting your eyes.

"Seems like my hoodie is in danger of being re-homed," he replies. He's trying to joke around to lighten your mood, which is obviously not good at the moment. Your eyes on the floor make him worried, and you really don't seem yourself. Or rather, you seem like how you are when you aren't feeling well.

"Here, why don't we look out the window together?" he offers, turning you around to face it again, wrapping his arms around you to try to help you feel warm.

"Oh god, Yunho, no," you mumble as he turns you, and you start stepping out of his reach, mortified at what he's about to see. You feel his arms stretch out and his body begin to move with you, but then he halts.

"Oh, that's what you were looking at," he laughs under his breath, making you cringe. You hope he leaves it at that, that he doesn't say anything else. But soon he opens his mouth again. "Oh god, that's crazy," he says, and you look back to see his eyes wide and mouth hanging open. He looks almost horrified, and you wonder for a moment if he's even seeing what you think he's seeing, or if it's something else entirely. With a confused look on your face you scoot towards the window again, to catch a glimpse of whatever has him so shocked.

As soon as your eye line reaches Seonghwa and Hongjoong you too feel a shock, at just how hard Hongjoong is thrusting into him now, his hand on Seonghwa's neck. No longer do the two look like a balletic couple; instead one has clearly submitted to the other. You know from conversations with him that Seonghwa likes being taken like this, or at least has always liked the idea of it. He'd told you many times how he'd never really had any partners he trusted enough to go there with, but that he wished he could. You feel strangely proud of him, as you realize he'd had to have a difficult conversation with Hongjoong to make this happen.

"Yunho, stop," you say, tugging on his arm to pull him into the library with you.

"You saw what I saw, right?" he asks, his voice still low but sounding mildly concerned.

"Yeah, why?" you ask, seeing his hoodie on the corner of the pull out couch and making a bee line for it.

"You just, don't seem concerned," he says.

"Why would I be concerned?" you ask, your eyebrows knitted together. You really don't know why he'd have a problem with the two of them being together, but suddenly you worry there's something about Yunho that you didn't know.

"Hongjoong was being so aggressive with him," he says, voice even softer.

"Oh, Yunho, he-" you cut yourself off, not wanting to overshare. You're so thankful he doesn't have a problem with them for any other reason. "It's not really my place to share but, let's just say I know he likes that. I'm sure he asked for it."

"Well, I guess that makes a lot of sense," he laughs, his relief palpable. You cock your head to the side, looking confused. "Oh you know what I mean," he continues. "Hwa is so professional, pretty, put together all the time. Of course he likes being taken like a whore."

"Yunho, what the fuck," you say, shoving your face in his hoodie to try to cover up your laugh. You can't help finding what he said hilarious, and his read of Seonghwa is completely spot on. But you can't believe the words actually left his lips. "How can you say that about him?"

"You're the one who was standing and watching them for what, five whole minutes? I waited a while to come and check on you," he says, staring you down as you finally put on his hoodie, your hair a mess under the hood.

"God, please don't tell anyone," you groan into your hands. "It's weird, I know, I'm sorry. I just, they seem very compatible, and I'm happy Hwa has found someone like that. I don't know."

"It's not weird, I know you like watching that kind of stuff," he replies.

"I do not, what are you talking about?" you reply, your cheeks feeling warm again.

"Ok I know it's only one example, but remember our school trip senior year? When those people in the hotel across the street were fucking and they left their curtains wide open? You couldn't stop staring."

"I'm never living that down," you sigh.

"There's nothing wrong with doing that, at least I don't think so. If people are fucking in public then they know someone might see. They probably even like the idea," he says, chuckling.

"I'm not a big pervert who reads smut all the time and likes watching people fuck," you pout, hitting him on the arm.

"I know," he murmurs, pulling you into a hug. "I'd still love you if you were, though."

Love. Your heart stops at the word for a moment, and you don't know why. You'd said it to each other thousands, probably tens of thousands of times in the ten years you'd known him. But now it's making you feel like your heart has fallen into your stomach, and you might puke it up. You sag against Yunho, pains wracking through you again. You almost feel relief, at realizing the feeling was just your cramps.

"I don't feel good," you groan into his chest.

"I know, I could tell," he says, rubbing a hand along your back.

"How?" you ask, tensing in anticipation of his answer.

"Cause you're being kind of weird with me today," he sighs out, hugging you even more tightly.

"I'm sorry," you say, having known it would be his answer. It was the thing him and Seonghwa had helped you realize; no matter how much you could hide the physical symptoms of anything, the changes in your personality were always there when you weren't feeling well. And those two, knowing you as well as they did, always picked up on it.

"Do you want to go back out there? Or stay in here?" he asks you.

"I just want to lay in here for a bit, by myself," you say, not wanting to expose him any longer to your sour mood. "I'll come out for dinner, can you let me know when everyone's eating?"

"Of course," he says, lifting you up and placing you on your bed. In the comfort of the library everything feels so intimate, and you tug him down to come lay with you too, for just a second. Wrapped around each other you both sigh, Yunho nuzzling his face into your neck and leaving a gentle kiss. He feels overcome with concern, his heart wanting to stay next to you like this, forever. But you'd said you wanted to lay by yourself. He pulls himself up, tightening the strings of his hoodie slightly and pulling your blanket over your shoulders. As he leaves he walks gently, trying not to make any sound. In the hallway he glances briefly out the window, to see Seonghwa smiling, him and Hongjoong cuddled up together in a gentle embrace.

***

Dinner passes in a blur, your entire body feeling achey and your head starting to hurt. You'd taken your pills, drank water; there was nothing else you could do. When Yunho came to get you you'd almost declined, almost asked him to bring you food in bed. Your bleeding was definitely slowing down, but your body was feeling weaker today, and your mind was all over the place. Throughout dinner you felt like you might start crying at the smallest thing, and you clung onto Seonghwa to keep yourself from doing so. Everyone could tell you weren't feeling well, Yunho and Seonghwa rubbing your back as you sat cross legged at the large coffee table in the living room, slowly sipping at your soup. When Wooyoung brought you the bowl he had leaned down to hug you, seeing just how out of it you were.

"You don't have to stay out here with us if you don't feel well," Seonghwa said, running his hand through your hair. You leaned against him, slowly blinking to try and calm yourself.

"I don't think I can walk right now," you said, your legs hurting terribly.

"I can carry you," Yunho piped up, downing his last bite of food. "Do you want to go lay down again?"

You nodded your head, the light in the room feeling too bright despite how dim it was. You bring your hands up to cover your eyes.

"Ok, let me clean up our dishes and I'll take you to your bed," he said, standing up with your bowl and his plate in hand. When he returned he gently grabbed your hands, moving them around to the back of his neck, and then moving your legs out in front of you, scooped you up in one fluid motion. You rest your head on his chest, burying your face into his hoodie that you're still wearing.

"Feel better, we love you," Ari said, a twinkle in her eye as she watched Yunho carrying you from the room.

"I love you too," you respond weakly. You feel yourself fading, but suddenly your teeth feel too gross to sleep. "Wait, I need to brush my teeth," you tell Yunho, groaning in frustration.

"Okay, no worries," he says, his voice gentle. He walks you to the bathroom and sets you down on the toilet seat, prepping your toothbrush for you, then helps you stand to spit everything out when you're done. "Wait, I need to pee," you say, holding onto his arm tightly. He helps you sit down again, helps take off your pants and panties. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry you have to help me like this," you say, your words nearly slurring together. You're really sounding out of it, and he feels himself in that space he gets in, when you're so broken down and he's the one there to comfort you.

"Shh, it's okay," he says, brushing a tear that fell down your cheek.

"No it's not, I'm a fucking mess," you continue, more tears starting to fall. "Why can't I figure out my damn body, why does it always catch me so off guard? It must be so weird living with me," you cry, everything tumbling out in waves.

"Y/n, listen to me. Everything is okay, I'm gonna get you to bed and you'll feel better tomorrow, I promise. You are not weird to live with, you're wonderful to live with. Are you hearing me?" he asks, moving your face up to make eye contact with him. "How did I get so lucky to know you?"

His kind words only make you cry harder, and you can't stop even as you get up from the toilet and try to steady yourself. He opens the door and picks you up again, carrying you finally to your bed to lay down. In bed your body feels heavy, like you're made of lead. You haven't felt this tired in a while, and you think sleep might envelop you immediately. But the pain radiating down your thighs and up through your stomach is too bad, and you toss and turn, unable to relax as Yunho readies himself for bed.

"Y/n, what do you need?" he asks, seeing your constant movements and pained expression.

"My legs to stop hurting," you mumble. Without even opening your eyes you raise your arms out to grab at him, even though he isn't right there. Your body is moving desperately again, and something about being with him in this room makes you loose all inhibitions. "Please make them stop hurting Yuyu," you plead.

"What would help, baby?" he asks, his body feeling electric. He moves over so you can grab him; he'll follow any request you have, do anything for you.

"Touch me, again, please," you beg, your thighs and pussy aching. Yunho again grabs a towel for you, gently placing it down on your bed and smoothing it out, lifting your hips to move you onto it. You keep making little sounds of desperation, unable to stop yourself. 'I know, I know, just relax baby,' he whispers to you, watching the way your face softens at the pet name. Soon your lower half is entirely naked, and he's massaging your legs, gently brushing past your cunt a few times, making you mewl from neediness. He wants to make you feel better but he also likes seeing you like this, likes hearing you beg for him. He wasn't prepared last night for what it did to him, and he thinks he's probably already addicted to that feeling.

Finally he slowly pushes a finger in, making you moan and sigh, the relief instant. Your reaching out to pull at his face, pulling him in to kiss him hard, your breath mixing as you open your mouth to slide your tongue across his. You moan at the feeling, his tongue wet and hot, making your clit throb. 'More,' you plead, your body feeling even more opened up than the previous night, even more ready to take everything he can give. He slowly adds a second digit, not wanting to hurt you, but he can tell your desperation is high and you're needing to be well and truly fucked. 'More, more,' you almost cry, your cunt clenching hard onto his long fingers, your hips rocking to match his movements. He inserts another finger, moving slowly again as to not hurt you. Desperately you claw at his back, hands reaching underneath his shirt, leaving marks in their wake. Yunho groans at the feeling, his own cock throbbing at how needy and wet you are. 'Faster, please,' you beg. The little sounds you let out are making him harder and harder; he starts rubbing himself against your leg as he fucks you with his fingers, his cock so hard it's starting to feel like torture.

"More, please Yuyu," you beg again, tears forming in your eyes from how good it all feels.

"More fingers? You feel so tight baby," he asks you, barely able to move his hand with how hard you're clenching down on him.

"No, need you inside me," you babble, feeling how hard he is against your leg. Yunho slows his movements a bit, propping himself up on his elbow to talk to you. He wants nothing more than to fuck you right then, but there's just one problem.

"Baby, I didn't bring any condoms with me," he huffs out, his frustration obvious.

"You should have," you whine, turning your face away from him but still moving your hips against his hand.

"How was I supposed to know this was gonna happen?" he asks, laughing.

You just whine again, eyes even more teary now at the thought that you might not get what you want, and you move your hands up to cover your face. Yunho stops his movements when he sees your disappointed face, sitting himself up to look down at you. He takes his free hand and gently brushes a hair out of your face.

"You really need me to fuck you right now?" he asks, earnestly. You nod your head, looking at him through the gaps between your fingers, your lips in a pout. Yunho groans and throws his head back, your sweet and needy face making him want to do every dirty thing he can think of. "Okay, I'll be right back," he says, slowly pulling out of you. You whine in disappointment, your pussy feeling devastatingly empty. "Just sit tight for a few minutes, I'll be right back," he says, kissing your forehead.

After cleaning off his hand Yunho walks through the cabin, trying hard to go unnoticed as he passes through the living room to the master bedroom. Everyone still seems to be awake except Hongjoong and Seonghwa who lay cuddled on a couch together; Wooyoung and his cousin Yeosang are playing what appears to be a very heated card game of some kind, while the other boys watch or scroll their phones, everyone clearly winding down for the night. He's thankful to not see Ari or San present; they must be in their bedroom as he'd hoped. His heart races from how potentially awkward this interaction could be, but he feels like he's on autopilot and there's no possibility of turning back. Not when you had begged him like that, and looked at him the way you did. There was no way he wouldn't find some sort of solution to his problem.

He knocks on the door gently, hoping he's not disturbing a private moment between the two.

"Yeah?" he hears Ari ask, sounding sleepy.

"It's Yunho, can I come in for just a sec?" he asks, trying to sound casual. He doesn't want to raise any alarm bells for them, or for any of the boys in the living room who might be overhearing. And if it had just been Ari, or one of the other friends he'd known for so long it might not feel too awkward. But there are three new people on the trip this year, and he isn't sure how comfortable they would be.

"Yeah, come in," she responds. Yunho turns the door handle slowly, hoping to avoid making any loud noise. Slowly pushing open the door, he spots San in the chair in the corner, reading over something on his laptop in front of him.

"Hey, sorry this is, well, random. Do you guys happen to have a, uh, condom I could borrow?" he spits it out, not wanting to waste a second.

"Oh, yeah, uh, let me see what I've got," San replies, closing his laptop and setting it on the bed before unzipping a small pocket in his suitcase. "Here just take this box, I brought two with me," he responds.

"Are you sure?" Yunho asks. He's frankly taken aback by how casual San is being about this, and by his generosity on top of it all.

"Yeah, of course. I've got plenty and I'm glad you're asking. It's always better to be safe," he responds, a genuine smile on his face.

"Be careful with her," Ari adds, unable to stop herself. "She's very fragile."

"I'm not going to hurt her, you know that," he replies, looking at her almost coldly. He feels slightly offended at the idea that she thinks it's a possibility, after all of the years she'd known him, seen him taking care of you.

"I know. I just had to say it, she needs all the protecting she can get," she says, remembering the state you were in during dinner. "I'm sorry if that was rude. I'm- I'm glad you feel comfortable enough to ask us," she finishes, hoping she didn't cross some sort of line with him.

"She's very capable of asking for what she needs," Yunho replies, wanting to stick up for you. But his face is soft, he isn't mad.

"Which is, that?" Ari gestures at the box of condoms in his hand, trying to hold back laughter.

"Okay, that's enough," Yunho laughs, looking away from her towards the door. "Thank you both, sorry if I made that weird."

Out the door he makes his way through the living room, trying to hide the box under the hem of his shirt. Mingi is the only one who glances up to see him, registering the shape of the box underneath the fabric. He's pretty sure he knows what it is, and he smirks to himself, too tired to say anything about it. But he's happy his friend is finally getting what he's wanted.

"I'm back," Yunho whispers when he reenters the room, your face and body awash in the gentle white light from the moon. He makes quick work of opening the box, removing one condom and throwing it on the bed. In a second he's on you, peppering your face with kisses, moving his hands underneath your shirt to pull it off.

"I'm so bloated," you say, breathless.

"I need to see you," he responds, not giving you any room to keep talking about yourself that way. You tug on his shirt as well and he reaches up, pulling it off and throwing it on the floor. In the moonlight he looks pale, his long torso perfectly shaped and beautifully lean. You bring a hand up to stroke along his stomach, feeling the strong muscles underneath his skin, brushing across a small happy trail going down from his belly button into his pants. You tug on his pants too, your neediness having only grown in the few minutes he was gone. The idea of laying stark naked in front of anyone, especially in your bloated, sickly state would normally make you shudder, but in this moment you feel free, ready to take anything. He moves down to kiss you again, passionately, his tongue forcing you to open your mouth wide, his hands possessively grabbing you. Him kissing down your neck has you moaning, nearly writhing underneath him. He moves up to whisper to you, biting your earlobe gently and making you moan louder.

"You're so perfect," he whispers, the words cascading down you like a soft warm rain, any worry you had completely melting away. You tug at his pants again, helping him move them down and finally, completely off. Quickly he rolls on the condom; carefully he lines himself up with your entrance, moving his stiff cock up and down your slit, already feeling how warm and wet and ready you are. Finally he presses in, achingly slowly, until he's fully seated inside of you, the muscles of your cunt being deliciously stretched in a way they never have before.

He's big to be sure, clearly just the perfect size, stretching you just the way your body needed. Slowly he pulls out, then soothingly pushes himself back in, his cock hitting every perfect place inside you. Your mouth falls open at the feeling; you've never felt so full, so complete. He moves a hand down to your hip, anchoring himself so he can start a slow rhythm, his head buzzing with how good it all feels.

"Baby, you're so tight, fuck," he says as he tries to find a consistent pace. "Does that feel good?" he asks, eyes not leaving your face.

"Yes, yes, fuck, Yunho," you mumble, not able to form a coherent sentence.

"Relax for me then, you're so tight I can barely move," he says, trying to find the perfect angle to make your body completely give in. Quickly he readjusts himself, moving his knee to lower his angle, adding more strength to his movement. You moan, clearly feeling even better than before, so he knows he needs to lower the angle even more. "Baby, lift your hips for me," he says, grabbing a pillow from beside you to move underneath your lower back. Once you're situated he kisses you again, acutely aware of just how surrendered you are to him, words no longer forming on your lips. Slowly he adjusts his knee again, his hand still on your hip anchoring you, and he begins fucking you again from his new angle.

The immense pleasure is immediate, your back arching and your head rolling back, your moans so loud you're probably being heard throughout the rest of the cabin. But Yunho doesn't care, he's not thinking about that. All he's thinking about is the way he feels your pussy pull him in even more, your hips and thighs finally relaxing some, your whole body reacting to his change in movement.

"Shit, there you go," he praises you, feeling your legs wrap around his back, pulling him in. He's been so careful with you, so focused on not hurting you, but he can tell you need more, so he starts fucking you harder, his face nuzzling in your hair to take in everything he loves about you. He can feel the muscles of your pussy start to clench again, but it's different this time; the flutter against his cock drives him crazy, making him thrust into you even harder. Soon he feels the muscles clenching hard, your moans reaching their peak, your hands a vice grip on his arm and back.

"Good girl, let yourself come," he coos, holding you as close to him as he can, kissing your cheek and nose. It's the most heated moment, he feels himself about to come undone too, but suddenly he's overcome with fondness, a warmth flowing through his chest, making him feel emotional.

"Fuck, I love you." The words tumble out of him without warning and your own chest warms, just as your orgasm starts blooming through you, your legs shaking as Yunho continues to fuck you. You're moaning and mewling, unable to say a single actual word, but you wish you could tell him just how perfect everything is, how you haven't came like that, ever. In the heat of the moment everything felt right, and to hear him say something so sweet just as you reached your climax made it all feel even better. His tight grip on you, the way he's nuzzled into your body, it makes you feel safe and grounded and so fucking horny.

Yunho comes just after you do, his thrusts becoming inconsistent, his body going taught and then absolutely limp on top of you. You both breath deeply, your chests heaving in the quiet coolness of the room. You wish you could bottle this feeling, the way your body is limp and buzzing with pleasure, his weight on top of you making your usually busy brain filled with nothing but the feeling of him. It feels peaceful, almost spiritual. You both rest for a few minutes, not moving a muscle, except when Yunho reaches over finally to kiss you again, making you giggle.

"How are you feeling?' he asks, still not daring to move.

"So good," you slur out, a dopey smile spreading across your face.

"Good," he replies, wrapping himself around you like he loves to do. "Can I pull out of you?" he asks.

"Mhmm," you respond, moving your legs to allow him to move. He cleans you up and helps you redress, stopping every few seconds to kiss you again, tickling you too when he realizes you're in the mood for it. It takes a while for you to come back to yourself, your mind so foggy from everything that had happened. But finally, once he'd gotten you both totally ready for sleep and wrapped himself up behind you, you found you could actually speak.

"I love you too," you whisper, squeezing his hand that rests on your belly. He just cuddles you closer, letting out a huge sigh of relief.

[runnning-outof-time]

Up Until You | Tommy Shelby x Reader

Request: yes by anonymous

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader

Summary: In which Tommy Shelby realizes that he might just have someone he wants to live for.

Warnings: smoking, slight season 2 spoilers

Word Count: 3698

A/N: boy does it feel good to post a story again! I hope there won’t be as big a gap between this and my next one … I promise I’m getting these requests written! Anon, I hope this is as angsty as you were hoping….the prompt you sent is bolded. Enjoy! :)

A/N 2: I almost forgot! I wanted to give a shoutout to the lovely Mars @toms-cherry-trees for helping me so much in the planning process of this fic…I don’t think it would have gotten finished if it weren’t for you!

I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! — COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!

Comment/Message Me if you’d like to be tagged!

(Y/N) sent Ada Shelby a look that asked 'where is he?' the second the latter opened the door. Ada answered with a head nod to the left, which conveyed the answer of 'he's in there'. A glance over the Shelby woman's shoulder confirmed it - Tommy was sitting at the table in the front room. His back was to the door, so he hadn't noticed that she arrived...yet.

She sent Ada an appreciative smile before she quietly walked into the room, hoping that Tommy wouldn't hear her footsteps. He seemed to be too engrossed in his writing for that to happen though. She stood there for a few moments, carefully peering over his shoulder as he finished the sentence he was writing.

He paused then, and it gave (Y/N) the ability to read the sentence he'd just written:

In the event of my own death, I want the following facts to be known...

Reading those words made her mind go blank. "You're actually going through with it?" she asked without thinking.

The sudden sound of someone's voice made Tommy quickly turn in his chair. He was already on edge with the day's events taking up his mind, so this unexpected visitor had caught him completely off guard. It took a few moments for it to register that (Y/N) was standing in front of him. When it did, he cursed under his breath before letting out a huff.

"When'd you get here, eh?" he asked, his eyebrows raised as he placed his hands on his thighs.

"Just now. I couldn't find you at home. The guys hadn't left for the derby though, so I figured you'd be here," she explained her reasoning. "You don't have to go through with this, Tommy," she then circled back, not letting him switch topics.

"I have to," his response cut right to the point. He didn't have time to get into a discussion about it.

"What about the other options you've shared with me? The options that don't include you having to come face to face with this man in order to get the job done," she reminded him of the talks they've had in the past, hoping that doing so would get him to change his mind.

"There's no time for those other options, (Y/N). The derby's today. The plan's been laid out," he wasn't biting.

Silence hung in the air as they stared at each other. (Y/N) was hoping that he'd change his mind. She waited on bated breath, waiting for him to announce that to her. But he stayed silent.

She couldn't wait any longer. "So that's it then?" she asked, incredulousness present in her voice. The fact that he wasn't even trying to entertain a conversation about this was breaking her heart. "You're just going to write your note and practically seal your death with it? And what'll that mean for me?" she was unable to stop herself from getting choked up as she uttered her final question. She didn't want to think about her life without him, but it was staring her dead in the face at the moment.

"The note's just precautionary, love," he attempted to assure her. Her expression didn't change, her brow was now furrowed and it was noticeable that she was biting on her bottom lip; most likely to stop her tears. Tommy finally stood then, coming face to face with her in hopes that his proximity would wash some of her worry away. "I'll be fine," he added in a low voice, blindly searching for her hands so that he could hold them.

"You can't promise that," she responded, her voice coming out as a shaky whisper. It was taking everything she had not to burst out into tears in this moment. She'd always associated his closeness with safety...whenever Tommy was close, (Y/N) knew she could never get hurt. But now his closeness was making her hurt even more.

"It'll be fine," he repeated, squeezing her hands.

"It's really been decided?" she still couldn't accept it.

"It has," he nodded.

(Y/N) sighed at his confirmation. Her gaze dropped to the floor as she pulled her hands from his grasp. She then wrapped her arms tightly around her frame as she turned and took a few steps towards the windows.

"(Y/N)." Her name left Tommy's lips as a breath. He knew he was fighting a losing battle here. "Come on, love. Look at me," he gently coaxed her. She stood still. "It'll be fine," he tried once more to assure her.

That set her off. She whipped around within a second of hearing his statement. There was now a fire burning in her watery eyes. "Do not say those three words again," she snapped at him, "do not continue to try and reassure me with things that you cannot guarantee will happen. You know how dangerous this plan is, Thomas. Please don't try and act like It isn't. You wouldn't be sat here writing a note for someone to find in the event of your death if you didn't think that there was a possibility of it happening," she spoke her mind, letting her emotions go free as all of the pent up worry flowed out.

"(Y/N)," he spoke her name again, in a different tone this time. He didn't need this lecture. Not right now. "This is what needs to be done," he continued in a low voice, staying stoic in hopes that it would alleviate the situation quicker.

But (Y/N) no longer cared about what he did or didn't need at that moment, and if anything, his statement just made her even more upset.

"It doesn't need to be done like this," she insisted, "you don't need to sign your life away for a contract...for a man who doesn't give a single care about the stakes that have been raised here so long as he isn't the one carrying out the deed. Any other person would be trying to find a way to take themselves out of the equation but you've decided to put yourself in the driver's seat."

(Y/N) felt like she was talking in circles. Hell, she probably was, but she was doing so in hopes that something would be set off inside of him. She wanted him to realize that there was still time to think up another plan; one that didn't include him being placed in harm's way.

"What is it that you want from all of this?" he asked her, his brows furrowed together.

"You, Tommy!" she exclaimed, her frustration shining clear through her words. "I want you to fight! I want you to realize that things don't need to play out this way; that you can still put another plan into play!" she paused, taking a deep breath as she swiped at the tears that had escaped her eyes. "I want you to come home when all of this is finished," her voice was level again as she spoke the final sentence. Her eyes were locked onto his, hoping that he'd realize how much this was affecting her.

Their eyes stayed locked and a few moments passed before Tommy looked down at the ground. He exhaled a sigh as he brought his hand up to the back of his neck. "It's already done," he said, his voice void of any tone.

"Then I guess I'm done," the words left (Y/N)'s mouth before she could stop them. She didn't take them back though. She was tired of fighting in a one-sided fight. It was so obvious that Tommy had his mind made up. Nothing was going to change it at this point. But yet she still held onto that sliver of hope. She hoped that her showing up today and speaking her piece would get him to change his mind.

"(Y/N)..." Tommy looked up again as her name fell from his lips, shock now present in his expression.

"I can't be here a moment longer. I can't stand in front of a man who is acting as if he's already dead. I need to leave."

Her words were spoken softly, but Tommy heard them loud and clear. He said nothing as she moved to the archway, expecting her to leave without another word. To his surprise, she turned around just before she was about to exit the room.

"I didn't believe that love existed until you came along, Tommy. But you showed me how wrong I was for thinking that way; for thinking that I'd never experience something like that. And now you've just decided not only your future, but mine as well. I can't stay here and watch it play out. I'm not sure if I'll be home when you return. I just..." (Y/N) stopped speaking as the words got caught in her throat. She let out a shaky breath, tears welling up in her eyes once more.

All words escaped her at that moment, and she shook her head instead, deciding that finishing her declaration would be a lost cause anyway. She couldn't even bear to look at him again, too afraid that she'd actually break down. So instead she turned and made her way to the door of the home, opening it and leaving without looking back.

The sun was now shining down on her. It was an absolutely lovely day in London, but yet she was having one of the worst in her life. She decided to go for a walk, revisiting the streets that still felt like home even though she'd made the move to Birmingham several months ago.

(Y/N) knew Ada Shelby before she knew Tommy. She'd met her when Ada had moved into the next door apartment with her adorable son, Karl. The two women quickly became friends, spending a lot of time together right up until the day Ada had been found and hurt for being a Shelby.

Contact stopped briefly as Ada had moved out of the apartment, but things continued like nothing had even happened when Ada sent (Y/N) a letter that contained her new address. The two frequently spent time together in the front room of the lovely new home, sipping tea and talking about the day's events in front of the fire.

Ada's house was where (Y/N) first met Tommy. Surprise riddled their first encounter. Ada had stepped away to tend to Karl when Tommy came knocking on the door. (Y/N), being the friend that she was, didn't hesitate in opening it. The sight she was greeted with took her breath away. Thankfully Ada had returned from Karl's room, or who knows how long the two would have been standing in the doorway, staring at each other. She even joked about the fact that they couldn't seem to keep their eyes off of each other. Of course it didn't help that Tommy had forgotten what it was he was even there for for the first few minutes of his visit.

That wasn't the last time (Y/N) saw Tommy. The two became very close very quickly. It was like they had known each other forever; like there was this pull present between them that neither could ignore. Things also got serious pretty quickly. So serious that (Y/N) was packing up her things and leaving her London apartment for Small Heath after only six months of knowing Tommy.

Some might think it was crazy; that things were moving much too fast. But (Y/N) had never felt so sure of doing something in her life.

Which made what was happening now hurt so much more. But she needed to keep walking. She'd done the right thing.

Tommy placed a cigarette between his lips and lit it with a match before taking a deep drag from it and exhaling slowly. The sealed letter sat on the table in front of him. He stared at it for a few moments before pressing the thumb and index fingers of his free hand against his eyelids, hoping it would alleviate some of the pressure he'd been feeling.

"I made you up some tea," Ada's voice broke through the silence, and the sound of glass being set on the table he was working at made Tommy lift his head again.

He nodded as a thank you before bringing the cigarette back up to his lips again. He then stamped it out in the ashtray while exhaling the smoke slowly.

"I heard everything that was said, you know," she said then, moving over to one of the chairs so that she could sit. "What were you thinking, Tommy?" she asked with raised eyebrows, her eyes zeroed in on her brother.

Tommy sighed, rolling his eyes as he looked off to the far wall. He didn't need anymore of this right now.

"She was my friend first. She was the only person who cared about me when I moved here. She helped me through a lot. I'm not going to let you ruin her for your stupid ambitions," Ada had no problem speaking her mind and letting him know how wrong he was for responding to (Y/N) the way he did.

Tommy pulled the timepiece from his pocket and checked it before letting out a sigh and returning it back to its place. "I need to leave," he told Ada before lifting the cup and downing the beverage in one go. In hindsight he was thankful that it wasn’t scorching hot. "Thanks for the tea," he said to her as he set the empty cup back down.

Nothing more was said as Tommy stood from the chair he was sitting on. He looked to Ada as he pulled the jacket he'd been wearing back on over his shoulders. She was glaring at him, hoping that he'd have something - anything - more to add to the conversation.

It became apparent that he didn't when he started for the archway. So Ada left him with one last statement: "please don't let her go, Tommy. We all need her." There was a quiet desperation now present in her eyes, one Tommy wasn't sure what to say in response to.

So he nodded and turned to exit the home, heading right to the car he parked a few streets down.

Truthfully what he wanted to do right now was head back to Birmingham and stop (Y/N) from leaving, to tell her that she was more important than any plan he could ever put into place. He knew she was justified in saying everything that she had.

But it was too late to do that now. Tommy knew that there'd be men searching for him by the end of the day if he stepped away from the plan this late into it. At least now he had some sort of control over the outcome of his life. And he was going to try like hell to stay alive...because now he had someone to stay alive for.

The house on Watery Lane was quiet when Tommy stepped into it later that evening. The fire in the main room was still lit, but he couldn't quite remember if they'd put enough wood on to keep it going prior to leaving that morning. So judging (Y/N)'s presence based on that could have surely given false hope.

He took his overcoat off and hung it on one of the hooks by the door. The suit jacket followed after, and he draped that over one of the chairs in the sitting room as he walked through it.

No one was downstairs, but he hadn't expected anyone to be at this time of night.

He quietly walked up the steps and down the hall to the bedroom that he and (Y/N) shared. He paused at the closed door, taking a moment both to steady himself; to regroup from the day's events, and to prepare himself for the possibility that he may be opening the door to an empty room.

After inhaling and exhaling deeply, he turned the knob and opened the door. The first thing he noticed was the lit candle on the bedside table. Seeing it made all of his worries dissipate. (Y/N) had a habit of lighting them and then falling asleep.

Looking slightly to the right, he found the woman that hadn't left his mind since she left him in Ada's sitting room. She was laying on her side, facing the wall, telling him that she was sleeping.

Slowly, quietly he began ridding himself of his outer layers. It wasn't until he moved over to the dresser that he noticed the bags sitting on the floor. They were packed. It was easy to see that, even in the candlelight. He looked back to (Y/N) then, putting the pieces together in his mind. She was going to leave...but something made her stay.

Now only wearing his undergarments, he made his way over to the bed. Hesitation overcame him again. Should he lay with her? Should he go back downstairs? She was in her spot, tucked up against the wall so that enough room was present for him on the small bed they shared.

A few moments passed before he made his decision, lifting the covers and slowly slipping underneath them. He laid on his back for a short time before turning onto his side so that he was facing her sleeping frame. Another bout of hesitation filled him, but he didn't let it stick for too long as he gently draped his arm over her midsection.

That was when (Y/N) let out the shaky breath she'd been holding in from the moment she heard the door open. She was awake the entire time.

"Are you still awake, love?" Tommy asked in a whisper.

"Yes," she breathed out, her voice wavering.

"You've been crying," he pointed out, able to read her like an open book.

"I didn't know if I'd see you again," she answered him, choking up as she spoke.

"I'm here," he assured her, his arm wrapping tighter around her body.

(Y/N) didn't say anything in response. Instead tears fell from her eyes as she held her breath, trying not to make it noticeable that she was crying. But Tommy was able to feel how her body was shaking.

"Turn and look at me," he said quietly, a soft demand that took her a few moments to comply with. Her tear-stained face became visible in the candlelight when she did, and seeing it broke Tommy's heart. "C'mere," he breathed, allowing her to move even closer to him so that he could engulf her in his embrace.

"No one knew where you were, Tommy," she whispered once she was finally able to get words out again. "I thought..." she paused, not even wanting to say what she was thinking, "I thought the worst."

"I'm sorry you had to think that way, darlin'," he murmured, stroking the back of her head slowly. He held her close until her body stopped shaking, giving her the time she needed. He didn't speak until she lifted her head from the crook of his neck. "Better?" he asked in a whisper, peering down to see that her eyes were still closed.

"Slightly," she breathed out a response. "I'm relieved that you're home. Is..." she paused, seeming like she was looking for the words to say next, "is it finished?"

"It's finished," he answered in a definitive tone, nodding his head as best he could.

(Y/N) let out a shaky breath upon hearing his response, feeling as if the rest of the weight had lifted from her chest. She slowly opened her eyes and looked right into his. "I was going to leave," she started, watching Tommy's brows furrow together in the candlelight, "but I realized that this is part of the life I chose with you. That this is the type of work you carry out, and that I can either fight you on it or support you the best that I could. I also realized that my desire to be with you is so much greater than the worry that your work creates." Her eyes didn't stray from his as she spoke. Watching his hardened blue irises soften as he took in her words was enough to fill her heart to the brim with love.

Tommy took a moment to soak in her words. He moved his hand from behind her head so that he could gently trace the line of her jaw with his thumb. Taking in a deep breath, he knew what he had to do. Searching her eyes for a few seconds longer, he thought of the words he wanted to say.

"I thought I could lose everything and be totally fine with it," he began, clearing his throat in hopes that she wouldn't notice the fact that his voice was breaking. She noticed. "But then you came along...and now I see how wrong I was."

"Tommy," she breathed, taken back by his admission.

"I had nothing to live for up until you, (Y/N)," he admitted, not holding anything back now, "and I promise you now that things will change... that there’ll be no more of these plans. I don't want to have the possibility of an outcome that doesn't include you in it."

(Y/N)'s mind was swirling. It had been a rollercoaster of a day, she still couldn't quite believe the change of events that had happened. But she was so very thankful that things had ended up with Tommy by her side again.

"I love you, Tommy," she whispered, a smile tugging the corners of her lips upwards.

"I love you, (Y/N)," he repeated the phrase, his expression mirroring hers as he leaned in and pressed his lips to hers in a passionate kiss.

Now that he had her again, he knew that he could never let her go. What he'd told Michael earlier in the evening would soon be true: he was going to ask (Y/N) to marry him.

MASTERLIST

Tagged: @mystcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21

@mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @notyour-valentine @theshelbyslimited

@peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss

@alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl

@emotionalcadaver @stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife

@anotherblinder @cillmequick @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @garrison-girl-08

@insanitybyanothername @depxiety @justrainandcoffee @dragons-are-my-favorite @forgottenpeakywriter

@cljordan-imperium @brummiereader @red-riding-wood @everythingelseisextra @little-diable

@thomashelbyswife @shaddixlife @ryecosse @padfootdaredmetoo

[natsaffection]

Wait and Hope. Pt 3 | N.R

Warnings: Hospital stay, coma, broken hearts, Wasting food

Word count: 10,9k

A/n: Aaand here us the final part! Thank you again Anon for this great Idea. 🩵

Natasha leaned against the wall, her knees threatening to give way as the adrenaline that had kept her going slowly began to fade. She knew she had to stay strong, had to pull herself together. For you, for the kids, but as she watched the doctors, the terrible reality of the situation fully dawned on her. The words of her children echoed in her mind, Lilas angry question, Jacob’s heartbreaking plea, Mia’s frightened sobbing. How was she ever going to explain this? How could she make them understand that you might not wake up, that the woman who had fought so hard to be their mother might be taken from them before they had truly let you into their lives?

Natasha closed her eyes, resting her head against the cold, sterile wall, and whispered a silent prayer, a prayer that you would fight, that you would survive, that you would come back to them. Because the alternative was too horrific to contemplate. The waiting was unbearable. Every time the door to the infirmary opened, Natasha’s heart jumped into her throat, only to be shattered again when it was just another nurse or passing doctor. She couldn’t sit still, couldn’t find any semblance of calm in the storm of emotions raging inside her. Fear, guilt, anger..all swirled together, threatening to overwhelm her.

The sterile smell of disinfectant in the air only intensified her fear, mixing with the metallic scent of blood that still clung to her hands, no matter how many times she scrubbed them. Your blood. She could still feel its warmth, still see how it had soaked your clothes, staining them a deep, merciless red. Her mind replayed the moment over and over when you threw yourself in front of the bullets, how you had crumpled to the ground, your eyes wide with shock and pain. Natasha squeezed her eyes shut, trying to push the image away, but it was burned into her memory, a nightmare that wouldn’t let go.

“Why did you do it?” she whispered into the empty hallway, her voice heavy with unshed tears. But even as she asked the question, she knew the answer. You did it because you loved her. Because you couldn’t bear the thought of a world without Natasha. For the same reason Natasha had so often pushed herself to the limit in the past, risking everything to protect the people she loved. But knowing that didn’t make it any easier. On the contrary, it only made the guilt worse.

She couldn’t stop the memories that flooded her mind. Memories of you, so vivid and real that it felt like you were right beside her. She remembered the first time they met, how your smile had lit up the room and disarmed Natasha in a way she hadn’t thought possible. Back then, she had been so closed off, so determined to keep everyone at a distance. But you had broken through all of that, your warmth and kindness slipping through her defenses like water through a crack in a dam.

Then there were all those countless moments of quiet joy they had shared. The lazy Sunday mornings spent together in bed, the sound of your laughter filling the air as they chased the kids around the park, the gentle, stolen kisses in the early hours before the world woke up. You had given Natasha a life she never thought she could have, a family she never believed she deserved.

But now, all of that hung by a thread. A thin, fragile thread that could snap at any moment.

Steve stood nearby, his presence a silent offer of support, but Natasha couldn’t look at him. She knew what he would say words of comfort, reassurances that you would pull through, but she didn’t want to hear it. She couldn’t bear the empty phrases, not when every second felt like a countdown to disaster. “Natasha-” Steve began quietly, his voice filled with concern.

“Don’t.” Natasha snapped, her voice sharp, barely able to keep her emotions in check. “Just..don’t.” Steve fell silent, his brow furrowing in worry, but he respected her need for space. He watched as she resumed her frantic pacing, unable to do more than be there for her. He knew Natasha was spiraling, but there was nothing he could say to pull her out of it.

Every time Natasha thought about what had happened, the guilt nearly consumed her. You had taken those bullets for her. And why? Because you believed-no, you *knew* that the kids needed Natasha more. That they loved Natasha more. That was the brutal truth she could no longer avoid. You had felt like you were losing the children, that they preferred Natasha, and that’s why you did it. The memory of your voice, so weak and filled with pain, echoed in Natasha’s head. “Im so proud of you.”

Those words had been like a knife in Natasha’s heart, cutting deeper with every breath. She had known, in some way, that you had been feeling distant from the kids lately. But she had never realized just how much that distance weighed on you, how much it had pushed you to the edge. You had sacrificed yourself because you thought it was the only way to keep the family together, the only way to make sure the kids wouldn’t grow up without the parent they loved most. And that thought..the knowledge that you felt that way, that you believed Natasha was the better, more needed parent was enough to make Natasha’s breath catch, her heart pounding with guilt and fear.

“What am I supposed to tell them?” Natasha whispered, her voice trembling as she finally stopped pacing and leaned against the wall, slowly sliding down to the floor. She buried her face in her hands, the tears she had been holding back finally breaking free. Steve knelt beside her, his hand hovering near her shoulder, not quite touching. “They love you, Natasha.” he said softly. “They’re kids. They don’t understand-”

“They understand more than you think.” Natasha interrupted, her voice bitter and filled with pain. “They’ve made it clear who they love more. They hardly listen to [Your Name] anymore. They push her away. And now..now she’s the one lying there, fighting for her life because she thought they didn’t need her.” Steve hesitated, then finally rested his hand on Natasha’s shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. “They’re scared, Nat. They’re kids. They don’t know how to deal with everything that’s happened, and sometimes..sometimes kids take out their anger on the people they love because they don’t know how to handle those feelings.”

Natasha shook her head, tears streaming down her face as she looked up at Steve, her eyes filled with despair. “But what if it’s too late? What if she never hears them say they love her again? What if..what if she-?" The thought was too much for her, and Natasha crumbled, sobbing into her hands as the weight of everything came crashing down on her. You had been so brave, so selfless, and now you were lying on that operating table, your life hanging in the balance, all because you believed you weren’t enough for the family you loved so much.

“I should have done more..” Natasha choked out, her voice breaking between sobs. “I should have made sure she knew how much she meant to me, how much she meant to all of us. I should have..I should have seen how much she was hurting.”

Steve pulled her into a gentle embrace, his strong arms wrapping around her as she cried. “It’s not your fault, Nat." he whispered, even though he knew his words wouldn’t take away her guilt. “Y/n knows how much you love her. She knows how much you need her. That’s why she fought so hard. And that’s why she’ll keep fighting.” But Natasha couldn’t shake the sense of doom that had settled in her chest. She clung to Steve, her sobs slowly subsiding into quiet, painful breaths as she tried to find some strength in his words.

After what felt like an eternity, the door to the infirmary finally opened, and Natasha held her breath. Dr. Cho stepped out, her expression exhausted and serious, her scrubs stained with your blood, a sight that sent a fresh wave of nausea through Natasha. “Hey.” she began softly, gently, as if she feared the wrong tone might shatter Natasha completely.

Natasha pulled away from Steve, got to her feet on trembling legs, and faced Cho, her heart pounding so hard she feared it might burst from her chest. “How is she?” she asked, her voice barely more than a whisper. Dr. Cho sighed, her face reflecting the gravity of the situation. “We were able to remove the bullets and stop the bleeding. But she’s in a coma. Her condition is critical, and we don’t know how long it will be before she wakes up- if she wakes up.”

Natasha felt as if the ground had opened up beneath her. She swayed slightly, her vision blurred as Cho’s words echoed in her mind. “Coma.” The word felt like a death sentence, a slow, agonizing torture she didn’t know if she could survive. “But she’s alive?” Natasha asked, her voice trembling as she clung to the smallest spark of hope. Cho nodded. “Yes, she’s alive. But she’s not stable. It’s a delicate balance, and all we can do now is wait and hope.”

"Wait and hope." The words felt like a cruel joke. Natasha had always been a woman of action, someone who did everything in her power to protect the people she loved. But now, she could do nothing but stand here helpless, while you fought for your life in that cold, sterile room. Steve placed a hand on Natasha's shoulder again, but she pulled away, shaking her head. "I need to see her." she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "I need to be with her."

Cho nodded, her understanding evident in her tone. "You can see her, but be prepared..she's hooked up to several machines and won't be able to respond." Natasha didn't care. She just needed to be near you, to hold your hand and tell you that you weren't alone, that you were loved, even if you couldn't hear it. Dr. Cho led Natasha into the infirmary, where the steady beeping of monitors and the soft hum of machines filled the air. Natasha's heart broke all over again when she saw you lying there, so still and fragile, your skin pale and lifeless against the stark white sheets.

Slowly, she approached the bed, her legs feeling as if they might give way at any moment. The sight of you, connected to so many machines, was almost unbearable. Natasha had always known you were strong, stronger than you ever gave yourself credit for, but seeing you like this, so vulnerable, tore her heart into a thousand pieces. Gently, she took your hand in hers, feeling the coolness of your skin, the slight tremor running through her own fingers as she held on to you. "I'm here, Y/n.." she whispered, her voice breaking. "I'm right here. Please..please come back to me. The kids..they need you. I need you."

But there was no response, just the steady beeping of the heart monitor, the rhythmic rise and fall of your chest as the ventilator did its work. Natasha sat down on the chair beside the bed, her eyes never leaving your face as she whispered words of love and hope, praying with every fiber of her being that you could hear her, that you would wake up, that they would have another chance to make things right.

The days after your surgery blurred together in a haze of fear and waiting. You remained in a coma, your condition stable but unchanged, and the uncertainty slowly gnawed at Natasha. She spent every possible moment by your side, clutching your still-cool fingers, whispering words of love and encouragement, begging you to wake up. Every day, Natasha brought the kids to see you, a routine that had become her way of coping with the uncertainty. Lila, Jacob, and Mia each dealt with it in their own way, but Natasha knew that being near you, even if you couldn't respond, was helping them process their feelings.

Today was no exception. As they entered the quiet room where you lay, the steady beeping of the heart monitor the only sound, Natasha felt that familiar tug in her chest. She led the children to your bedside, her eyes never leaving your pale, peaceful face. Jacob, who had been standing silently beside Lila, stepped closer, his face twisted with worry. He hesitated for a moment, then placed his small hand on yours, his voice trembling as he spoke. "Please wake up, Y/n.." he whispered. "I..I don't want you to be hurt any longer. We all want you to come home."

Mia, who was clutching a piece of paper in her little hands, stepped forward next. She had been drawing pictures for you every day, leaving them on the nightstand beside your bed, as if they could somehow help you heal. Today, Mia had drawn a picture of her family, a simple, colorful drawing of five stick figures holding hands, with a big, bright sun overhead. Natasha, you, Lila, Jacob, and Mia were all there, smiling and happy. "Look, I made this for you." Mia said softly, her voice full of hope. She carefully placed the picture on the bed next to you. "This is us. See?" Natasha's heart swelled with emotion as she watched Mia interact with you. Mia had been distant for so long, hesitant to build a connection with you the way she had with Natasha. But here she was, so small and innocent, offering you her love and support in the best way she knew how.

As Mia stepped back, Natasha noticed something on the picture that took her breath away. Above the stick figure representing you, in Mia's careful, childlike handwriting, were the words "Mama." "Mia.." Natasha whispered, her voice trembling as she knelt down to her daughter. "Did you write 'Mama' on your picture?"

Mia nodded, her eyes shining with a mix of pride and uncertainty. "Yes.." she said softly. "She's my mama too, right?" Tears welled up in Natasha's eyes, and she pulled Mia into a tight hug, her heart aching with love for her daughter and the woman who had fought so hard to become part of their family. "Yes, she is." Natasha whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "She's your mama too, and she loves you very much. I know she'll be so happy when she sees your picture."

Mia sniffled, nodding as she hugged Natasha back. "I hope it helps her wake up.." she murmured. "Come on.." Natasha said gently, guiding them softly toward the door. "It's time for Mama to rest." As they left the room, Natasha cast one last glance at you, lying peacefully in the hospital bed, Mia's drawing still beside you. The sight of the lovingly written word "Mama" filled Natasha with renewed hope.

In the following days, Lila was constantly drawn to the hospital room. She sat in the corner, watching your motionless form, as your chest rose and fell with each labored breath. At first, Lila kept her distance, arms crossed, her face set in a mask of indifference. But inside, her emotions were a storm, battling between fear and guilt.

One evening, after another long day of waiting and worrying, Lila couldn't take it anymore. She found Natasha in the hallway, looking more exhausted and broken than ever before. Lila's chest tightened as she saw Natasha run a hand through her hair, her usually sharp eyes dulled with sorrow. Lila approached her slowly, her voice trembling as she spoke. "I need to know what happened." she said, her words filled with a desperate need for answers. "You're here every day, and I see you suffering. But I need to know why. What happened that day? What really happened to Y/n?"

Natasha looked at Lila, her heart aching at the pain in her daughter's eyes. She had tried to shield Lila from the full truth, wanting to protect her from the horrors of that day. But she could see that Lila needed to know, that not knowing was eating her up inside. Natasha took a deep breath, nodded, and led Lila to a quiet corner of the hospital where they could talk undisturbed. She didn't know how to start, how to put into words the events that had shaken their lives.

"It was like any other mission..." Natasha began, her voice trembling slightly. "We knew it was dangerous, but we had no choice. Things went wrong from the start, and by the time we realized it, it was too late. We were ambushed, and I..." Natasha paused, her throat tightening as she remembered the moment that haunted her every waking thought. "An agent aimed his gun at me, and I couldn't move..."

Lila watched Natasha closely, her heart pounding as she listened. The image of her mother, the strong and fearless Natasha Romanoff, cornered and helpless. Natasha continued, her voice breaking. "But Y/n..she saw what was happening. She didn't hesitate. She jumped in front of me and took the bullets. She..she saved my life." The words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of the truth. Lila felt the ground shift beneath her as the full impact of what Natasha had said hit her. Y/n had nearly died because she chose to protect Natasha. The realization was like a hammer blow to her heart. "She did that..for you?" Lila whispered, her voice barely audible. "But..but why?"

"Because she loves us." Natasha replied, her voice trembling with emotion. "Because she wanted to protect me, to protect all of us. She wasn't thinking about herself, only about keeping us safe." Lila's eyes filled with tears as she looked away, unable to meet Natasha's gaze. "It's my fault." she choked out, her voice shaking with guilt. "If I..if I had made her feel like she belonged, maybe she wouldn't have felt like she had to prove herself. Maybe she wouldn't have gotten hurt, maybe.."

"Lila, no." Natasha said quickly, reaching out to her. But Lila pulled away, her emotions boiling over. "It's my fault!" Lila cried, her voice rising with the pain she felt. "I made her feel like an outsider! I pushed her away, and now..now she's lying in that bed because of me!" Natasha's heart broke at the sight of Lila's pain, but before she could say anything, Lila turned and ran, tears streaming down her face. Natasha called after her, but Lila didn't stop. She couldn't bear it, couldn't face the reality of what had happened, of what she believed she had caused. Lila ran until her legs gave out and collapsed in a secluded area of the hospital, her body shaking with sobs. She didn’t know how long she sat there, crying into her hands, overwhelmed by the crushing weight of her guilt. All she could think about was how she had pushed you away, how she had refused to let you in, and yet you had sacrificed everything to protect your family..

The next evening, Natasha lay on the small, uncomfortable couch pushed into a corner of the room, her eyes closed, though sleep continued to elude her as usual. Ever since you had been brought here, she had refused to leave your side, sleeping only in short, restless intervals on that couch, always ready to be there if you showed even the smallest sign of waking.

Earlier in the day, Mia had brought you another of her drawings, proudly showing off the colorful picture with "Mama" carefully written above the stick figure representing you. It was a moment of bittersweet hope, one that filled Natasha with a mix of pride and sadness. She had kissed her children goodnight and watched them leave with Maria. Maria had also informed Natasha that Lila was safely in her room and not coming out. As the hours passed, Natasha’s thoughts swirled in a fog of memories and what-ifs. She tried to focus on the rhythm of your breathing, the steady rise and fall of your chest, and hoped it was a sign that you were fighting your way back. But despite her exhaustion, her mind refused to rest, her thoughts repeatedly returning to the same fear. That you might never wake up.

Then, in the silence, Natasha’s finely tuned instincts picked up the faint sound of the door opening. Her eyes snapped open, her body tensing automatically, but she didn’t move. She recognized the sound of those steps, the cautious way they moved across the floor.

Lila.

Natasha forced herself to stay still, to keep her breathing steady, and pretended to sleep as she listened to her Daughter sneak into the room. Lila moved quietly to your bedside, and Natasha heard the soft scrape of a chair being pulled closer to the bed. There was a long pause, and Natasha could almost feel the weight of Lilas emotions filling the room. She kept her eyes closed, her heart clenching as she realized what this moment meant for you both.

“I don’t understand you..” Lila whispered, her voice breaking the silence. She wasn’t sure if you could even hear her, but she had to say it, had to let the words out. “Why did you do it? You barely know us, and I was nothing but a burden.”

She felt the familiar sting of tears in her eyes but blinked them away. “I don’t understand why I matter to you so much.” she continued, her voice trembling. “You keep trying, even when I push you away. You don’t give up on me, even when I’ve been awful to you.” Lila’s voice caught in her throat. “I’m s-sorry..” Then the tears came, hot and fast, and Lila didn’t try to hold them back. She had kept everything bottled up for so long, afraid to let it out, but now she couldn’t hold it in any longer.

“I’m so sorry I pushed you away..” Lila went on, her voice breaking as she spoke. “I was scared, scared that you’d leave if I let you in, just like everyone else. But I was wrong. You didn’t leave. You stayed, even when I was awful, even when I didn’t deserve it.” Natasha bit her lip, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill over. She knew how hard you had fought to build a connection with Lila, how much it hurt you that she kept you at a distance.

“I was so stupid..” Lila admitted, her voice shaking. “I wouldn’t let myself love you because I was too scared.” She angrily wiped away the tears, frustrated with herself. “I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry for being so difficult, for not letting you in. I..I just didn’t know how. But I don’t want you to go. I don’t want to lose you.” Lila took a trembling breath, her hands shaking as she reached for your hand. It was warm but limp in her grasp, a reminder of how fragile life is. She gently squeezed it as if willing you to wake up, to respond, to give her a sign that you were still there.

“Please, Mama..” Lila whispered, the word slipping out before she could stop it. It felt strange on her tongue, but also right, as if it had been waiting to be spoken. “I’m so scared of losing you before I ever really showed you.”

There was a long pause, the room filled with the weight of her confession. Natasha’s heart ached for both of you, for you, who had fought so hard to be accepted, and for Lila, who was finally realizing how much you meant to her. And now, hearing her call you “Mama” for the first time, knowing how much it would have meant to you if you could hear it, was almost too much to bear. “You were always my Mama..” Lila whispered, her voice breaking. “I just didn’t know how to say it. I love you, and I need you to wake up. Please, Mama..please wake up. Mom, Mia, Jacob..and I..we need you here.”

For a moment, there was only silence, and then..something changed. A gentle, almost imperceptible movement. Natasha’s heart skipped a beat, her breath catching as she heard a faint rustling from the bed. Lila must have noticed it too because she fell silent, her breath hitching as she looked down at you. “M-Mama?” she whispered, her voice filled with a mix of hope and fear.

Natasha’s eyes widened, her heart pounding in her chest as she saw it..your hand, the fingers twitching slightly. It was small, barely noticeable, but it was enough. Natasha was on her feet in an instant, crossing the room in a fraction of a second. “Lila, stay with her.” Natasha ordered, her voice tense with emotion as she reached for the call button to summon the doctor. “I’ll get Helen.” Lilas eyes were wide, her hand still holding yours, her grip tightening as she saw your eyelids flutter. “Mom..is she..?”

“She’s waking up, Lila." Natasha whispered, her voice trembling with a mix of hope and disbelief. “She’s waking up.” Before she could say more, the door to the room flew open, and Cho rushed in, her face a mixture of professional calm and urgency. Natasha stepped back to give Cho space, but she stayed close, her heart hammering in her chest. Cho leaned over you, her hands moving with practiced precision as she checked your vitals, her eyes fixed on your face. “Y/n, can you hear me? If you can hear me, try to open your eyes.”

For a moment, nothing happened, and Natasha felt her heart clench with fear. But then, slowly, painfully, your eyelids fluttered again, this time with more intent. Your fingers twitched in Lilas hand, and she gasped, her eyes wide with shock and hope. “Mama?” Lila whispered again, her voice trembling.

Your eyes opened just a sliver, your gaze unfocused, but you were trying, trying to come back to them. Natasha felt tears streaming down her face, and she quickly wiped them away, not wanting to miss a single moment of this miracle. Dr. Cho smiled softly, a look of relief spreading across her face. “That’s it, Y/n.” she encouraged. “Keep your eyes open. You’re doing great.”

Your eyes slowly began to focus, your gaze searching the room until it landed on your Daughters face, who was looking down at you with a mix of awe and love. “Hey, Mama..” Lila repeated, her voice breaking as she gently squeezed your hand. “I’m here. We’re all here.”

Your lips parted, and although no sound came out at first, the effort was clear. Natasha watched with bated breath as your gaze finally met Lilas, recognition flickering in your tired but living eyes.. “Lila.." your voice was barely more than a whisper, hoarse from the long silence, but it was the most beautiful sound Natasha had ever heard. Lilas face crumpled with emotion, and she leaned down, gently pressing her forehead against yours. “You’re back. ” She whispered, her tears finally breaking free. “I’m so sorry..I love you so much..”

Natasha covered her mouth with her hand as she tried to hold back the sobs of relief and joy that threatened to overwhelm her. She had waited so long for this moment, had prayed for it, and now that it was finally here, it felt almost too good to be true. Your hand moved weakly in Lilas grasp, your gaze shifting to Natasha, who was looking down at you with love and gratitude despite your exhaustion. “Hey..” you breathed, your voice barely audible.

Natasha stepped forward, her legs trembling as she reached for your other hand. “I’m here.” she whispered, her voice full of emotion. “We’re all here, Y/n. We’re all here, and we’re not going anywhere.” Dr. Cho smiled gently at the sight and stepped back to give the family a moment. “She’s still very weak. She warned gently, "but this is a very good sign. We need to monitor her closely, but it looks like she's going to recover."

Natasha nodded, tears streaming down her face as she held your hand, gently stroking your knuckles. "Thank you." she whispered, though she wasn't sure if she was thanking Dr. Cho, the universe, or you. All that mattered was that you were here, that you had come back to them. Lila stayed close to you, her hand never leaving yours as she leaned in, his her soft and full of emotion. "We missed you. We need you." Your eyes fluttered shut again, your energy spent, but the small smile on your lips told Natasha everything she needed to know. You were going to get better. They were all going to get better.

The morning light gently filtered through the blinds of the hospital room, casting a warm glow over your bed. Natasha sat beside you, holding your hand gently, her eyes still red from the tears of relief she had shed the night before. You were awake, and although you were still weak, you had finally come back to them. It was a miracle Natasha had prayed for, and she couldn’t suppress the overwhelming feeling of gratitude that filled her heart every time she looked at your face.

You stirred slightly, your eyelids fluttering as you squeezed Natasha’s hand. "Morning.." you murmured, your voice still hoarse from the long silence. "Morning." Natasha replied, in an instant. "How are you feeling?"

"Tired.." you admitted, a small smile playing on your lips. "But better..especially because you’re here." Natasha leaned forward and gently kissed your forehead. "I’m not going anywhere." she promised. "The kids will be here soon. They’ve been so worried about you."

As if on cue, the door to the room opened, and the sound of small, excited footsteps filled the room. Mia was the first to burst into the room, her face lighting up when she saw you awake and sitting slightly upright in the bed. "Mama!!" Mia called out, running to the bed with outstretched arms. Before Natasha could stop her, Mia jumped onto the bed, her small body enthusiastically bumping against yours.

You groaned softly in pain, your body still tender and weak from the injuries you had sustained. Natasha’s heart skipped a beat, and she quickly moved to intervene. "Mia, sweetheart, be gentle.." Natasha said softly but firmly, pulling Mia back a little. "Mama is still very sore, okay?" Mia’s eyes widened with concern as she looked at you. "I’m sorry!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with worry. "I didn’t mean to hurt you!" You managed a weak smile and gently ran your fingers through Mia’s curly hair. "It’s okay, darling.." you whispered, your voice soft but full of love. "I’m just so happy to see you."

By then, Lila and Jacob had also entered the room, their faces glowing with relief as they saw you awake and smiling, even though you still looked a little pale. Lila, trying to be the responsible big Sister, held Jacob’s hand as they carefully approached the bed. "Hey, Ma," Lila said, her voice calm but full of emotion. "We missed you." Jacob nodded, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "Yes, Mama.." he echoed, his voice trembling slightly. "We’re so glad you’re awake."

Your heart swelled as you looked at your children, their faces full of love and relief. Hearing them all call you "Mama" was like balm for your soul, healing wounds you had carried in your heart for so long. Mia, eager to show you everything she had worked on, pulled out the stack of drawings she had brought with her. "Mama, I made so many pictures for you while you were sleeping!" she said excitedly, holding them out to you. "Look! This one shows all of us together!"

You smiled warmly, taking the drawings from Mia’s small hands. You began flipping through them, admiring each one and listening as Mia explained the different scenes she had drawn. Each picture was a colorful explosion of love and innocence, capturing the world as Mia saw it. But then your hand paused as you reached a particular drawing, a simple picture of your family, all five of you standing together and smiling. Above the stick figure representing you, in Mia’s careful, childlike handwriting, was the word "Mama."

Your breath caught, your eyes filling with tears as you traced the letters with your finger. It was the first time Mia had called you "Mama" in any form, and seeing it now, so lovingly written in a drawing made just for you, filled you with a deep sense of belonging. "Mia.." you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion. "You..you called me Mama."

Mia nodded eagerly, her face beaming with pride. "Yes! Because you are my Mama!" she said, her voice full of conviction. You felt your heart swell, tears streaming down your face as you gently pulled Mia into a soft, careful hug. "Thank you, sweetheart." you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. "It means the world to me." Natasha, who stood nearby, felt her own tears rising as she watched the scene. It was everything she had wished for, everything you had deserved for so long. Your family was coming together in a way that felt right, in a way that was healing not just you but everyone.

As you continued to flip through the drawings, Mia carefully climbed onto the bed next to you, this time making sure not to jostle you too much. "I’m going to draw you even more pictures.." Mia promised, her eyes shining with love. "I’ll draw as many as you want!" You smiled, your heart filled with love and gratitude. "I can’t wait to see them, darling." you said softly, kissing Mia gently on the head. Lila and Jacob moved closer, both leaning in carefully to give you a gentle hug. "We’re so glad you’re okay." Lila said, her voice quiet and sincere. "We missed you."

"I missed you too." you replied, your voice full of warmth as you looked at each of your children in turn. "I’m so proud of all of you. You were so brave, and I love you more than you’ll ever know." Natasha stepped forward, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder, her eyes filled with love and pride. "We’re all so proud of yo.," she whispered, her voice full of emotion. "You fought so hard to come back to us, and now..now we’re finally together."

You looked up at Natasha, your eyes brimming with tears of joy. "I couldn’t have done it without you." you whispered back. "Without all of you." The gentle hum of the medical equipment provided a soothing background as the children reluctantly left the hospital room, guided by Maria. They had spent the morning showering you with affection, and now it was time for Dr. Cho to conduct a routine examination. Natasha watched them go, a small smile on her lips as Mia blew you a kiss from the doorway.

When the door closed softly behind them, the room felt a bit emptier, though the warmth of the morning’s visit still lingered. Dr. Cho entered the room with her usual professional demeanor, her presence a calming anchor amid the emotional turmoil of the past days. “How are we doing today?” Dr. Cho asked kindly as she approached the bed.

“We’re doing good.” you replied with a grin, though your voice was still a bit weak. “I’ve got my whole team here taking care of me.” Dr. Cho smiled as she began her examination, checking vital signs and gently inspecting the wounds. Natasha stood nearby, arms crossed, her gaze fixed on you with a mixture of love and lingering concern in her eyes.

As Dr. Cho carefully removed the bandages to examine the healing wounds, you winced slightly in pain but forced a smile to lighten the mood. “You know, I was thinking..these scars are going to be pretty impressive trophies. I’ll be able to tell the kids I fought off an entire army of Hydra agents.” Dr. Cho chuckled softly as she continued her work. “Well, you certainly earned those scars. But let’s focus on getting you fully healed before you start collecting trophies, okay?”

You grinned, but the playful expression on your face didn’t reach Natasha, who was staring at the wounds, reliving the moment the bullets hit. She could still hear the sound of the shots, feel the panic as you collapsed, blood soaking through your clothes. The memories overwhelmed her. Your body hitting the ground, Natasha’s desperate screams for help, the overwhelming fear of losing you forever. Her breath hitched, and she had to force herself to stay in the present, to remember that you were here, alive, and on the road to recovery.

Sensing the sudden change in Natasha’s demeanor, you looked at her with concern. “Hey, Nat..” you said softly, your voice cutting through Natasha’s spiraling thoughts. “It’s okay. I’m here.” Natasha blinked, returning to the present, and quickly forced a smile, though her eyes were still shadowed by the memories. “I know.” she whispered, trying to sound reassuring, but she couldn’t hide the strain in her expression.

Dr. Cho finished her examination and gently re-bandaged the wounds. “The wounds are healing well.” she said, looking up at Natasha with a comforting smile. “She’s making good progress, but she still needs plenty of rest.”

“Thank you, Helen.” you said, giving a thumbs up, though your attention remained on Natasha. You could sense that something was wrong, that Natasha was holding something back, trying to stay strong. After Dr. Cho left, you looked at Natasha with a knowing gaze. “Come here..” you said softly, patting the spot next to you on the bed. “Lie down with me.”

Natasha hesitated for a moment, but then she nodded, unable to resist your gentle urging. She carefully climbed onto the bed, mindful of your injuries, and settled beside you. You shifted slightly, grimacing in pain, but you wrapped an arm around Natasha and pulled her close. Natasha let out a shaky breath, the warmth of your body grounding her in the present. She pressed her forehead against your shoulder and allowed herself to relax for the first time in days.

You gently stroked Natasha’s hair, your touch soothing. “Tell me..” you whispered. “What’s going on in your mind?” Natasha closed her eyes, taking in your familiar scent, the feel of your heartbeat against her own. “I..I keep seeing it..” she confessed, her voice barely more than a whisper. “I see you getting hit, hear the shots..I was so scared. I thought I was going to lose you.”

Your heart ached at the pain in Natasha’s voice. You held her tighter, your thumb tracing calming circles on her back. “But you didn’t lose me.” you said softly. “I’m here, Nat. I’m right here with you.”

“I know..” Natasha murmured, her voice trembling. “But it’s hard to let go of that. Every time I see those wounds, I can’t stop thinking about how close I was to losing you.” You sighed quietly, understanding the weight of those memories. “You were there for me when I needed you most, Nat. You got me to safety, you made sure I got here, and now I’m healing because of you. We’re going to get through this, okay?”

Natasha nodded, a tear slipping down her cheek as she buried her face in your shoulder. “I was so scared.” she whispered again, the confession coming from a place of deep vulnerability. “But I’m so grateful you’re here.” You kissed the top of Natasha’s head gently, your voice filled with love. “I’m grateful too. And I’m so proud of you, Nat. You were so strong for me, for the kids..I don’t know how I would have done it without you.”

You lay there in silence for a while, holding each other close, finding comfort in the nearness of the other. The trauma of the past days was still there, but in each other’s arms, you both found a sense of peace. After a few minutes, you spoke again, your voice gentle but curious. “How are the kids handling everything? I know they’ve visited me, but..how are they really doing?”

Natasha smiled softly, lifting her head to look at you. “They’re doing okay, all things considered. Lila has been incredible. Shes really stepped into the big sister role and has been taking care of Mia and Jacob. And Mia..she’s been bringing you those drawings every day, you know.” Your eyes softened at the mention of the drawings. “I saw the one yesterday.” you said, your voice filled with emotion. “The one where she called me ‘Mama.’ I couldn’t believe it.”

“She’s been calling you that ever since.” Natasha replied, her heart swelling with love. “And it’s not just her. Lila and Jacob..they’ve started calling you ‘Mama’ too.” Your eyes filled with tears, and you let out a shaky breath. “I never thought I’d hear that from them.”

Natasha smiled, wiping a tear from your cheek. “They love you. They’ve always loved you. I think..I think they just didn’t know how to show it until now.” You nodded, your heart full as you pulled Natasha closer. “I’m so glad I’m here to hear it.” you murmured. “I’m so glad I didn’t miss it.” You lay there for a while longer, wrapped tightly around each other on the small hospital bed, speaking softly about the children, your future, and the love that had carried you through the darkest times. The trauma was still there, but together, you found the strength to face it and heal.

Finally, the day had come. After weeks of recovery in the hospital, you were being discharged. Natasha stood by the window, watching as the morning sun streamed into the room, bathing everything in a golden light. It felt like a new beginning, a second chance you had all been waiting for.

You sat on the edge of the hospital bed, dressed in comfortable clothes Natasha had brought from home. There was a lightness in your eyes that hadn’t been there for weeks, a feeling of relief, of gratitude for the simple fact of going home. Cho had given you the all-clear, though she had thoroughly reminded you that you still needed plenty of rest and care. You were still weak, still healing, but the worst was behind you. Natasha packed up the few things you had accumulated during your hospital stay. A few books, some drawings the kids had brought, and a small bouquet of flowers Steve and the rest of the team had sent. She turned to you with a gentle smile. “Ready to go home?”

You looked up at Natasha, your eyes shining with emotion. “I’ve been ready since I woke up.” you said, your voice warm but tinged with the exhaustion that still clung to you. “I can’t wait to be home with you and the kids.” Natasha stepped closer, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your lips. “We’ve been waiting for this day too." she whispered. “They’re all so excited to have you back.”

At that moment, the door swung open, and the children burst in, their faces glowing with joy and anticipation. Mia was the first to reach you, practically bouncing with excitement. “Mama! You’re coming home today!” she exclaimed, her voice filled with enthusiasm. You grinned, stretching out your arms to embrace Mia, who snuggled against you. “Yes, I am.” you replied, your heart swelling with love as you saw the happiness in your daughter’s eyes. “And I can’t wait to spend the day with you.”

Jacob, with his usual calm demeanor, stepped forward next, his face bright with relief. “I’m glad you’re coming home, Mama.” he said softly, sliding his hand into yours. “We missed you so much.” Your eyes glistened with unshed tears as you squeezed Jacob’s hand gently. “I missed you too, sweetheart.” you whispered. “I’m so happy to be going home with you.”

Lila hesitated for a moment, her expression more reserved, but the emotion in her eyes was unmistakable. Finally, she approached you, a shy smile tugging at her lips. “It’s about time they let you out of here..” She said, trying to keep her tone light, but the relief in her voice was evident. You chuckled softly, “I know, right? I was starting to think they’d never let me go.” Natasha watched the exchange, her heart full of joy as she took in the sight of your reunited family. This was the moment she had been waiting for, the day when you could all be together again, without the shadow of fear hanging over you.

Dr. Cho entered the room, smiling warmly at your family. “Are we ready to go home?” she asked, her voice filled with encouraging brightness. You nodded, taking a deep breath. “More than ready.” you replied, your voice steady. Dr. Cho quickly went over the final instructions, reminding you to take it easy, get plenty of rest, and come in for follow-up appointments. Natasha listened intently, committing everything to memory. She was determined to make sure your recovery at home went smoothly.

With everything in place, Natasha helped you to your feet, supporting you as you took your first cautious steps. You leaned on her, grateful for her steady presence, but also determined to show your strength. You were ready to leave this place behind and begin the next chapter of your life. The children clustered around you, each of them eager to help in their own way. Lila carried your bag, while Jacob and Mia flanked you on either side, their small hands resting on your arms as if they were there to support you.

The walk to the car was slow, but it was filled with a sense of triumph. Every step you took was a victory, a reminder that you had survived the darkest days and were now on the path back to the life you loved.. During the drive home, the car was filled with chatter and laughter. The children couldn’t stop talking about all the things they wanted to do now that you were back home. Family movie nights, picnics in the park, and Mia was especially excited to show you the new drawings she had made just for you.

Natasha kept one hand on the steering wheel, while the other rested on your knee, a silent connection between you. She glanced over at you, seeing you relaxed against the seat, your eyes closed, a content smile playing on your lips. When you finally pulled up in front of the house, the children practically burst out of the car, racing to the front door to open it for you. Natasha helped you out of the car, wrapping an arm around your waist to support you as you walked up the steps together.

The moment you stepped into the house, a wave of relief washed over you. The familiar scent of home, the warmth of the rooms, and the sight of the life you had built together, it was everything you had fought for. Mia immediately grabbed your hand, tugging you toward the living room. “Come on, Mama! I want to show you what I made!”

You laughed softly, letting Mia lead you to the sofa, where you carefully sat down. Natasha was close behind, ready to help if needed, but she was just happy to see you home at last. Jacob ran into the kitchen and quickly returned with a glass of water, offering it to you with a serious expression. “Here, Mama.” he said earnestly. “You should drink this.”

You took the glass with a grateful smile, taking a sip before setting it on the coffee table. “Thank you, Jacob..” you said warmly. “You’re such a good helper.” Lila, trying to maintain her cool demeanor, hung back a little, but the gentle smile on her face betrayed her happiness. “If you need anything, just let me know, okay, Ma?” She said, her voice carrying a note of quiet sincerity.

“I will, Lila.” you replied, your heart swelling with love for your children. Mia climbed up beside you on the sofa, pulling out her latest drawing from behind a cushion. “Look, Mama! I made this last night! It’s our whole family!” You took the drawing from Mia’s small hands, your eyes misting over as you took in the bright colors and happy figures she had drawn. In the center of the picture was your family, all holding hands, with “Mama” written in big, bold letters above your figure.

“It’s beautiful..” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. “Thank you for making it for me.” Mia beamed, leaning against you and giving you a gentle hug. Natasha sat down beside you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “We’ve got you now.” she whispered, her voice filled with love. “You’re home, and that’s all that matters.” You leaned into Natasha’s embrace, feeling the love and warmth of your family surrounding you. The road to full recovery still lay ahead, but with your family by your side, you knew you could face anything.

As the afternoon wore on, the sounds of life filled the house. Laughter, conversation, and the pitter-patter of the children’s feet as they ran around with renewed energy. And through it all, you felt a deep sense of peace and gratitude. You were home, where you belonged, with the people you loved most in the world. And as the day turned to evening, you and Natasha sat together on the couch, your children snuggled close, and you knew that whatever challenges lay ahead, you would face them together, as a family.

Several months had passed since you had returned home from the hospital, and life had gradually settled into a comfortable rhythm. The scars from your ordeal had healed, leaving only faint marks as reminders of the battle you had fought. Your strength had returned, and with it, the joy of fully embracing your role within your family once more. One Saturday afternoon, the house was buzzing with the energy that only comes when everyone is home and looking for something fun to do together. You, Natasha, and the kids were gathered at the kitchen, ready to tackle a new family activity: making homemade pizzas.

The kitchen island was covered with ingredients, slices of pepperoni, bowls of cheese, fresh vegetables, and various sauces. Lila, who had taken a recent interest in cooking, was carefully spreading tomato sauce over her pizza dough, her tongue sticking out slightly as she concentrated. Mia was excitedly sprinkling cheese on her pizza, making sure every inch was covered, while Jacob, ever the perfectionist, was meticulously placing his toppings in neat rows. You and Natasha exchanged amused glances, both of you reveling in the happy chaos that surrounded you.

"Alright, who wants to add the secret ingredient?" Natasha asked, holding up a small jar of fresh basil leaves. "Me! Me!" Mia shouted, jumping up and down with her hand raised high. "Okay, Mia, you get to do the honors." Natasha said, handing her the jar.

Mia carefully took out a few basil leaves and sprinkled them on top of her pizza, her face glowing with pride. "Now it’s perfect!" she declared. Jacob, not to be outdone, added a few basil leaves to his pizza as well. "I think mine looks pretty good, too!"

Lila, on the other hand, was more focused on making sure her pizza looked like a work of art. She had carefully arranged the pepperoni slices into a smiley face, and as she stepped back to admire her work, she nodded with satisfaction. "Looks great." you said, giving her a thumbs-up. "Everyone's doing an awesome job." Natasha grinned mischievously as she reached for a handful of cheese. "You know what would make this even better?"

You raised an eyebrow, already sensing the playful glint in her eyes. "What?" Without warning, Natasha tossed a handful of cheese at you, laughing as it landed on your head. "A little bit of extra cheese, just for you!" The kids burst into giggles as you stood there, a mock look of shock on your face. "Oh, you did not just do that."

"Oh, I definitely did.." Natasha said, her smile widening. Not one to back down, you grabbed a handful of flour from the counter and lightly dusted Natasha's hair with it. "There, now we match." The kitchen erupted in laughter as Natasha shook her head, sending a cloud of flour into the air. "Alright, now it's on!" she declared, reaching for the bowl of tomato sauce. Before anyone could stop her, Natasha flicked a spoonful of sauce in your direction, but you dodged just in time, causing it to splatter across the countertop.

Mia, eyes wide with excitement, quickly joined in by tossing a few stray pieces of pepperoni at Jacob, who retaliated with a handful of mushrooms. Lila, seeing her opportunity, grabbed a handful of cheese and tossed it at you with a grin. "Sorry, Mama, but I’m with Mom on this one!"

Soon, the entire kitchen turned into a battlefield of food. Cheese flew through the air, flour dusted the counters, and vegetables were scattered across the floor. You couldn’t stop laughing as you and Natasha teamed up against the kids, who shrieked with joy as they dodged and counterattacked with equal enthusiasm. At one point, you found yourself cornered by both Mia and Jacob, who had somehow managed to team up against you. "Surrender, Mama!" Jacob demanded, holding a piece of broccoli as if it were a weapon.

"Never!" you laughed, trying to fend them off with a handful of pepperoni. Natasha, seeing your predicament, rushed to your rescue, pelting the kids with a few extra leaves of basil. "Let your mama go!" she ordered playfully..In the end, everyone was covered in food, and the kitchen looked like a disaster zone. But the sound of laughter echoed through the house, and the sense of pure joy made every bit of mess worth it.

When the battle finally died down, you all collapsed onto the kitchen floor, breathless and laughing. Natasha leaned over and planted a flour-dusted kiss on your cheek, her eyes sparkling. "I think we make a pretty good team.".You grinned back at her, still catching your breath. "The best." The kids were sprawled out around you, all of them grinning from ear to ear. Lila, who was still giggling, looked over at you with a playful smirk. "That was so much fun. We should do this every week!"

Mia nodded enthusiastically, her face smeared with tomato sauce. "Yeah! Pizza wars every Saturday!" Jacob, always the practical one, sighed dramatically. "But we’re going to have to clean all of this up, aren’t we?" You and Natasha looked around at the chaos, and then at each other, before bursting into laughter again. "Yeah, but it was totally worth it." Natasha said, ruffling Jacob’s hair.

"Alright, troops!" you announced, clapping your hands together. "Let’s get this place cleaned up so we can actually eat these pizzas. But first, how about we take a picture to remember this day?" Everyone gathered around, and Natasha set up her phone on the counter, setting the timer. As the camera flashed, you all huddled together, covered in food but filled with happiness.

The pizzas, once they were finally cooked, tasted even better after all the fun you’d had making them. You all sat down together at the table, enjoying the fruits of your chaotic labor, the laughter continuing as you recounted the best moments of the "pizza war." As you looked around the table, at the smiles on your children’s faces and the warmth in Natasha’s eyes, you couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of contentment. These were the moments that made everything worthwhile. The laughter, the love, the togetherness.

Hours later, you stood in the kitchen, watching the late afternoon sunlight filter through the windows, The house was filled with the familiar sounds of life. Mia's laughter, Jacob's chatter, and the soft hum of Natasha's voice as she discussed something with Steve on the phone in the next room. It was a peaceful, ordinary day, the kind you had longed for during those difficult weeks of recovery.

As you poured yourself a cup of tea, you heard the sound of hesitant footsteps approaching. You turned to see Lila standing in the doorway, her expression thoughtful. She had grown so much in the past few months, both physically and emotionally, and you couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride as you looked at her. “Hey, Ma.” Lila greeted you, using the casual nickname she had adopted for you ever since you had come home. It was a sign of the bond that had strengthened between you two..a bond you cherished deeply.

“Hey.” you replied with a warm smile, setting down your cup. “What’s on your mind?” Lila shifted her weight from one foot to the other, a small, almost mischievous smile playing on her lips. “So, um, I was wondering..Some of my friends are going to the movies tonight, and they invited me to go with them. I really want to go, but..well, I figured I should ask you first.”

You raised an eyebrow, sensing there was more to the story. “And why didn’t you go straight to your mom with this?” you asked gently, already knowing the answer. Lila sighed, her smile turning sheepish. “Because I know she’ll say no. You know how strict she is about curfews and all that. But you’re a little more..reasonable.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle softly. Lila knew exactly how to play her cards, and over time, you had learned to navigate the delicate balance between being the understanding parent and maintaining the boundaries Natasha had set. “Well, I appreciate you coming to me.” you said, leaning against the counter. “But you also know that your mom and I are a team. We have to be on the same page when it comes to decisions like this.”

Lila nodded, looking down at her feet for a moment. “I know. But I promise I won’t be out late, and I’ll text you both every hour if you want! I just really want to go..It’s been a while since I’ve hung out with my friends outside of school.” You could hear the sincerity in her voice and saw the hopeful glint in her eyes. You knew how much these moments meant to her, especially after everything your family had been through. You also understood the importance of giving her some freedom to grow and experience life.

“Alright,” you said after a moment’s thought, “I’ll let you go, but you have to promise me a few things.” Lila’s face lit up with excitement. “Anything, Ma! What do you need me to do?” “First, you’ll text both me and your mom when you get to the theater and when you’re leaving.” you began. “Second, you’ll be home by 10:30 at the latest. And third, if anything feels off, you call us immediately. Deal?”

Lila nodded eagerly, a huge grin spreading across her face. “Deal! Thank you, Mama!” The switch from “Ma” to “Mama” was subtle, but you noticed it. Lila had taken to using “Mama” whenever she was particularly grateful or when she really wanted something. It was a small thing, but it made your heart swell with warmth every time she said it.

“You’re welcome, sweetheart.” you said, pulling her into a gentle hug. “Now, go get ready. I’ll talk to your mom and make sure she’s okay with this.” Lila hugged you back tightly. “You’re the best, Mama. I’ll be quick, I promise!” As Lila dashed off to her room, you took a deep breath and prepared yourself for the conversation with Natasha. You knew it might take a little convincing, but you also knew that Natasha trusted your judgment. You found Natasha in the living room, still on the phone with Steve, but she ended the call when she saw you approaching.

“Everything alright?” she asked, immediately picking up on the fact that you had something on your mind. You nodded, sitting down beside her on the couch. “Yeah, everything’s fine. Lila just asked if she could go to the movies with some friends tonight.”

“Did she now? And I’m guessing she came to you instead of me because she thought I’d say no?” You smiled softly, reaching out to take Natasha’s hand. “You know our girl well. She’s eager to go, but she knows how strict you are about curfews and safety.” Natasha sighed, her gaze softening as she looked at you. “And what did you tell her?”

“I told her she could go, but only if she agreed to text us when she gets there and when she’s leaving, to be home by 10:30, and to call us if anything feels off. I know it’s important for her to have some freedom, especially after everything we’ve all been through.”

Natasha leaned back against the couch, her hand still holding yours. “You’re right. I just..I worry about her, you know? She’s at that age where she wants to push boundaries, and I don’t want her to get into any trouble.”

“I know.” you said gently, squeezing her hand. “But she’s a good kid, and she’s been through a lot. She needs to feel like we trust her, and this is a way to show her that we do. Plus, we’ve given her guidelines, and I believe she’ll stick to them.”

Natasha nodded slowly, her expression thoughtful. “You’re right. I do trust her, and I trust you. If you think this is okay, then I’ll support it.” You smiled, leaning in to kiss her softly on the lips. “Thank you, Nat. I know it’s not easy to loosen the reins, but I promise we’ll keep an eye on things.”

Natasha returned your smile, a hint of amusement in her eyes. “You’re really good at this, you know? Balancing everything.”

“I had a great partner to learn from..” you replied, resting your head on her shoulder. “We’re in this together, remember?” Natasha wrapped her arm around you, pulling you closer. “Always.” A few hours later, Lila was dressed and ready to go, her excitement barely contained as she came into the living room to say goodbye. She hugged you tightly, a big smile on her face. “Thanks again, Mama. I’ll text you both as soon as I get there.”

“Have fun!” you said, hugging her back. “And remember, be home by 10:30.”

“I will, I promise!” Lila assured you, before turning to Natasha. “Thanks, Mom. I know you’re just trying to keep me safe.” Natasha smiled, pulling Lila into a hug. “I am, but I also want you to have fun. Just be careful, okay?”

“I will.” Lila promised, and with that, she was out the door, practically skipping with excitement. As the door closed behind her, you and Natasha shared a look, both of you feeling a mix of pride and the inevitable worry that comes with letting your child out into the world.

“You did good.” Natasha said, leaning in to kiss your cheek. “You’re really good at this whole parenting thing.”

“So are you.” you replied, smiling at her. “We’re a team, remember?” Natasha nodded, resting her head against yours. “Yeah, we are.” As the evening progressed, you and Natasha spent some quiet time together, savoring the peace and quiet of the house. The kids were occupied with their activities, and for once, there was no pressing crisis to deal with. It was just the two of you, enjoying each other’s company and the knowledge that, no matter what, you had each other.

Around 9:30, Lila texted as promised, letting you both know that she was on her way home. You could sense Natasha’s relief, and you shared it, knowing that your daughter was safe and had had a good time with her friends. When Lila finally walked through the door at exactly 10:25, you couldn’t help but smile at her punctuality. She looked happy and content, and that was all that mattered to you.

“Did you have fun?” you asked as she kicked off her shoes and plopped down on the couch beside you.. “Yeah, it was great.” Lila replied, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “Thanks again for letting me go.”

“You’re welcome.” you said, ruffling her hair affectionately. “I’m glad you had a good time.” Natasha came over and sat on Lila’s other side, pulling her into a hug. “We’re both glad, sweetheart. Just remember, you can always come to us with anything, okay?” Lila nodded, leaning into the embrace. “I will. I love you, Mom. I love you, Mama.”

“I love you too.” you and Natasha replied in unison, both of you smiling at the bond that had only grown stronger with time.

As the night settled in and the house grew quiet, you couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of contentment. Your family was safe, happy, and together, and that was all you could ever ask for. And in the weeks and months that followed, as the kids continued to grow and thrive, you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you and Natasha would face them together, hand in hand, surrounded by the love of your children. The greatest gift you could ever have.

[zorosangell]

hey! i've been thinking this christmas eve about where zoro and the reader spend their first christmas together. zoro still didn't understand the dynamics of a couple having never had one, so nami explains to him and tells him that since it's almost christmas he has to give her a gift. he didn't really know what to give her so he buys her a necklace with a sword pendant. Then the reader gives him several things as gifts and zoro feels bad for only giving him a small gift but the reader shows him that it's enough and shows him his love with a sinful night 👀 i know it's a bit long but i haven't been able to get this idea out of my head. thanks

⛥ﾟ・。 mistletoe

synopsis: nami has to school zoro in the art of gift-giving in order to save your first christmas together. luckily, he manages to wise up... and gives you a gift you won't ever forget.

cw: fluffy fluff, comfort, zoro is a lovable idiot, classic case of right idea wrong execution, christmas mentioned (duh), nsfw implied, what would we do without nami, this kinda combined two asks i got into one, anon u know who u are here you go <3

a/n: I AM SO SORRY IVE BEEN GONE! LIFE HAS BEEN UGH LATELY! enjoy this early holiday present as an apology <3

"YOU ABSOLUTE MORON!" Nami shouted, furious, as she punched the swordsman right the head, leaving a large welt in her wake. "I OUGHTA KICK YOU INTO NEXT WEEK!"

Zoro's eye shot wide, confused—and severely pained—as his hand snapped up to rub the afflicted area, forcing him to snap his head over to her.

"What did I do?!" he barked, thoroughly annoyed.

"Somehow, you always find a way to make it a matter of what you didn't do!"

With a sigh, Nami pinched the bridge of her nose, muttering a few curses under her breath as she marveled at the absolute stupidity of the man walking next to her.

Sometimes, she wondered if he did it on purpose.

"What?!" Zoro asked, snappy and sarcastic. "What did I mess up now?!"

"Christmas!" Nami exclaimed, exasperatedly. "One of the easiest holidays to get right!"

"How the hell did I mess up Christmas?!"

"How the hell did you forget to get your girlfriend a present?! On your first Christmas together, no less?!"

The navigator couldn't believe his ignorance, still disbelieving of the whole thing.

"So..." Nami smiled as she turned to the swordsman, intrigued. "What did you get (y/n) for Christmas?"

Zoro glanced around, eye focused on the snowy road ahead and the festive town surrounding the two as they walked side by side.

"What are you talking about?" he scoffed, confused. "Get her what?"

Concerned, Nami stopped in her tracks, completely forgetting about where they were supposed to be going.

"Her present," she emphasized, suspiciously. "I asked what you bought her for Christmas."

Zoro's brow quirked in confusion.

"Bought?"

Worry slowly began to creep into the navigator's chest, her brows slowly furrowing into a scolding expression, faintly hoping for a miracle

"You bought her something for Christmas... right?"

But the silence that followed told her everything, the wintery scene around them fading as he found her fist flying toward his head.

"I didn't forget anything!" Zoro defended, fervently.

"And pigs can fly!" she scoffed, rolling her eyes as she glanced up at the sky with a sigh. "It's strokes of genius like this that force me to swoop in and save your relationship nearly every month..."

"I! DIDN'T! FORGET! ANYTHING!"

"Oh, then please inform me as to why it is nearly sunset on Christmas Eve, and you have yet to buy your kind-hearted, loving girlfriend a Christmas present!"

"She never told me what she wanted!"

Nami froze, her face and body turning completely numb as the words hit her ears.

'...Is he serious?'

If he was, she was going to hurt him.

"I've been waiting for (y/n) to tell me what she wants for months! I even saved up so I could get her whatever it was without any issues," he explained himself, showing proof by pulling a fat stack of berries out his coat pocket, its contents worth at least a hundred-thousand.

Nami's eyes widened.

She'd never seen him save so much.

Maybe there was hope.

"But when she didn't come around to tell me, I assumed she didn't want anything. So I kept it."

'Nevermind.'

She was going to hurt him.

Using her large, handheld wallet like a newspaper, she whacked him in the nose, wagging her finger and sucking her teeth like she was scolding an animal.

"OW!"

"Bad boyfriend," she shook her head. "She shouldn't have to ask. As her better half, or maybe lesser in this case, you should know her like the back of your hand. And thus, know what she wants as a present."

Zoro paused, taking a moment to process her words before his face lit up in realization, the concept finally clicking in his mind.

"Oh, I get it," he nodded, hand coming to rest pensively on his chin. "Because I know her best... I already know what she wants."

She cheered, happily clapping her hands together as a smile broke out on her face.

"You're learning!"

But her expression quickly shifted into one of fury, her brows furrowing as she pointed toward the road.

"NOW GO GET HER SOMETHING BEFORE ALL THE STORES CLOSE!"

"SHIT!"

"Should I be worried?" you asked, amused, as your moss-headed boyfriend hastily lead you over the threshold of the bathroom.

He was uncharacteristically smiley, and uncharacteristically eager as he positioned you in front of the mirror, using your hips as handles to practically plop you down in front of it.

"Only if you wanna," he answered, a slight grin rising to his lips. "But personally, I'd be preparing myself. This is gonna blow everyone else's gifts out the water, and I'd hate to have ya faint from shock."

"Hardy har..."

On the deck below, the Strawhat's First Annual Christmas Party was in full swing, music and laughter filling every nook and cranny of the ship as Brook, Usopp, and Franky serenaded the crew with their very own carols.

The smell of fresh baked cookies and gingerbread managed to waft their way to the upper levels, Luffy and Chopper in the kitchen pounding back cookies just as fast as Sanji could make them.

You, Nami, and Robin had gone into town earlier and bought matching outfits, the three of you decked out in cute, Santa mini-dresses with the hats and boots to match.

Safe to say, the night was looking up.

And it was only supposed to get better from there...

"Alright, close your eyes," Zoro ordered, turning around as he rummaged in his pocket.

"Now I'm really scared," you teased, your hands coming up to cover your eyes with delightful anticipation.

Zoro was never big on surprises, so to see him go through such lengths could only mean that whatever he was about to give you was really good.

"Gimme a sec," he grunted, still fumbling around. "Can't get this stupid latch open."

Big fingers... small clasp...

Your brows quirked at the word, confused.

'Latch?"

"Got it," he nodded, quickly bringing it around your neck and pulling it together in the back.

Taking a moment, he fooled with the damned thing once again before he finally got it secure, a proud smile rising to his face.

"Alright, open 'em."

Slowly opening your eyes, you gasped at the sight in the mirror before you, hands snapping up to your mouth in surprise.

"Oh, my Gods!"

Resting gracefully on your chest was a glittering, gold pendant of three swords, their handles conjoined at the tip and hung carefully on the chain around your neck.

They were the same gold as his earrings, matching so perfectly you'd think they all came together in a set.

Absolutely breathtaking.

"Zoro..." you marveled, turning to look at different angles. "It's beautiful!"

He crossed his arms over his chest, a proud smirk on his lips at your happy expression.

"You like it? It's one of a kind," he nodded. "The jeweler said this was the only one ever made."

"I love it!" you squealed, turning around and tossing yourself in his arms, the man unable to fight off his smile as you peppered his face with kisses. "Thankyouthankyouthankyou!"

Slightly pulling back, you flashed him a cheeky grin, staring deeply into his steel grey eyes as he rested his hands on your hips.

"How do I look?"

His gaze trailed down from your face to your chest, where the pendant sat just above your cleavage, almost like a badge of honor.

"Like mine," he stated, shamelessly, quickly moving to capture your lips in a kiss.

"Wait, wait, wait!" you cheesed, your hand covering his mouth as you pointed to the ceiling. "We have to do this nicely! Look at what we're under."

Glancing up, the swordsman's eyes landed on the minty green of a mistletoe, which was hung directly above you and tied with a nice, silk ribbon.

But he didn't give two shits.

Pulling his mouth away from your hand, he fixed his eyes on you with a look of hunger, completely disregarding the tradition.

"There's only one thing I'm doin' nicely..." he smirked, quickly swooping in to assault your neck before taking you down to the bathroom floor.

"Zoro!" you squealed, your hands grasping his broad shoulders as he pinned you to the ground.

It wasn't long before your shrieks of amusement turned into cries of pleasure, which were, thankfully, drowned out by the festivities going on outside.

Your swordsman had easily made this the best Christmas to date, something thoroughly appreciated given his usual hard time with gifts and grand gestures.

Not only did you get the best gift you'd ever received... but you also made a new Christmas tradition.

One that had Robin planning for onesies in next year's gift exchange.

[a-spes]

Hi I was rereading devious lies and I was thinking ab if nat and yn were to meet again and everything, yn would have the biggest trust issued ever. First her best friend took advantage of her and ruined her life, then the ones she considered family turned their backs on her without even letting her explain her side, and ofc how her lover shouted in her face that she's not welcome there anymore and how yn shouldn't even talk with her anymore ever. How the last time the team looked at her it was with anger and dissapointment That and also from the first part where she herself admitted to feeling like a stranger amongst her once friends and family.

Idk what you have in store for us for when you're feeling better and out of the writing block that you're currently experiencing, but I can't wait to read it. Take as long as you need, we're here!

˚ 　 ⋆ ⁺ ₊ ✦ ⁺ ₊ 　 ˚ 　. ˚ . 　 ☁ . 　　. 　 ˚ 　⁺ ₊ ⁺ ✦ 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖈𝖆𝖗𝖘 𝖎𝖓 𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖍𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖙𝖘 ₊ . 　 ˚　. ✧ ⁺ ✦ ₊　 　 ☁ ˚　 . ⁺ ₊ ✧ ˚　 . 　  ˚　 ⁺ ₊ ˚

₊ ⁺ ✦ ₊　 　 ☁ 　˚　 . 　⁺ ₊ ✧ ˚　　 . 　  ˚ ˚ 　. ☁ ˚ 　. ˚ 　 ✩ ₊ ˚ . ☾ ⋆ ⁺ ₊ ✧   　　˚ ⁺

˚　 . ⤳ DEVIOUS LIES — Bonus part, 'the scars in our hearts' (6.280 words).

⋆ ⁺ ₊ ✧ ⤳ SUMMARY — Anon request — “ It has been years since the events, and when you eventually got the chance to go back with them, you thought everything would be the way it used to be. except it wasn't. three years, almost four, is a lot of time, and the people you used to know and the building you called your home do not feel the same anymore. Maybe you've been gone for too long to hope to find a place in their new life. ”

. ☁ ˚ ⤳ TAGS & WARNINGS — Natasha Romanoff x Reader, Avenger!Reader, Female!Reader, Other Avengers x Reader (brief mention of them). Bittersweet, (kind of) angst with comfort. Self-doubt, mental health issues, mention of bad coping mechanisms, toxic relations.

˚ . ⤳ MOODBOARD ⊱⋆⊰ MASTERLIST ⊱⋆⊰ TO SAY SOMETHING ✦ Part one. Part two. Part three. ⊱⋆⊰ the scars in our hearts.

˚ 　 ⋆ ⁺ ₊ ✦ ⁺ ₊ 　 ˚ 　. ˚ . 　 ☁ . 　　. 　 ˚ 　⁺ ⁺ ✦ ₊　 　 ☁ ˚　 . ⁺ ₊ ✧ ˚　 . 　  ˚　 ⁺ ₊

You’ve been told that you just needed a bit of time to adjust, because you come a long way, but they didn’t say how long ‘a bit of time’ was. So the months passed, they soon became years, and if you’ve still made no progress, you kept hoping. Every day, you repeat yourself that you only need ‘a bit more of time’ and that, soon, with just a little extra effort, everything will eventually be fine. 

Except that you’ve never been a patient person.

They made it sound easy. They made you believe that everything would go back to the way it used to be in weeks, and you’ve fallen for their sweet words because you were craving for them to be true. You have dreamed of that moment, and every day you’ve spent far from them was spent thinking about the day they would ask you to come back. It is a little fantasy you’ve been holding on to for the past few years, but the tears, hugs, and excuses you’ve spent hours to imagine never became a reality. No, you only got silent glances.

It has been almost three years since you came back, and it still wasn’t enough. Sometimes, you think about letting go of that dream of yours, the one that makes you believe that things could still get back to normal, even when nothing was —; but how could you do something like that? How could you possibly think about abandoning them again when they’ve been willing to give you a second chance? You weren’t ready yet to accept that the home you’ve been longing to return didn’t feel like it anymore, at least not without first trying your hardest to make things right. Thus you kept pushing yourself a bit more everyday, at the cost of your health — which seemed a very small price to pay in exchange for the feeling of being at home again.

Two years is not a lot of time in a human life but these years still felt like an eternity to you, and you’ve never been so aware of how long they have been as when you came back, realizing the gap that had opened up between you and the others. Your life has fallen apart that day, leaving you with such small pieces of yourself that you weren’t able to rebuild on your own —; but them? It is as if they’ve lost nothing. They’ve spent those two years building a life in which you’ve never existed, one that you are now supposed to find a place in. Every day is just a painful reminder of what you have lost, and will never get back despite your hopes. Your dream slipped away just when you touched it with your fingertips.

You have to accept that you are not a part of the system anymore, you are just the pebble that derails the machine, and that ruins everything —; but you should be used to it, shouldn’t you? To that feeling of shame and sorrow that your heart has been carrying for years, that feeling of failure and permanent disappointment.

Some nights, out of habit, you push the wrong door, and you find yourself in the room you used to share with Natasha. Once full of life, it had now become austere. Yet, there is something comforting about being in that room full of old memories, it is a bittersweet feeling that’s both like a heartbreak and a warm hug. You've never been much of a drinker, or at least you've always been careful enough not to get wasted. But you’ve made an exception tonight, because everything seemed to be too much, and you wouldn’t have survived the party if you hadn’t drowned everything in alcohol.

It is the way they kept laughing that got on your nerves, jealousy rising inside of you every time a new joke was told that you couldn’t understand “because you weren’t here” —; but Wanda wasn’t here either, and yet, she laughed along with them, why? Because she hasn’t lost her place with them, she is still a part of the family. They promised that they would tell their stories and explain their jokes later, because it was too long to do it now, but you were aware that it was just a lie to give you the impression that you weren’t on the sidelines.

It wasn’t very effective.

They spent the whole night telling stories that you couldn’t understand and sharing jokes you couldn’t laugh at, and while they remembered things that you didn’t have a chance to live by their side, giving you an overview of all the things you’ve missed, you were silently sitting on the couch, trying to ignore the knot in your throat. You didn’t even try to take part in the conversation —; what could you possibly have said anyway? You are not sure they would have wanted to hear about how miserable your life was when you were gone, how lonely and desperate you’ve been during these years. It would be an admission that you missed them, needed them.

Instead you kept your attention on the bottles of alcohol, at least they would never let you down —; that’s the advantage when the parties are organized by someone like Tony: you will never run out of booze. You were so uninvolved in what was going on around you, that you missed the worried glances that Natasha and Wanda shared, and they didn’t need to talk to understand each other, to know that they both had the same concerns.

Everyone does, but you’ve made it clear in your first few weeks back that you didn’t want their pity. There was no comfort in the way they looked at you and, quickly, their presence became too much. They were always there, never letting you completely alone despite the appearance and trying to meet your needs before you could even ask, pretending that they knew better than you do —; but they don’t. They have no idea of what you need, because how could they when you’re not even sure yourself?

The loneliness you’ve asked for isn’t more comforting, but at least it comes with familiar feelings, some that you’ve learned how to deal with the past few years. On the contrary, you still hadn’t gotten used to their presence, and you had no idea of how to deal with these contradictory feelings that were starting to grow inside of yourself. While a part of you wanted to lean in their embrace, the other rejected their overwhelming affection. A way of protecting yourself that won out, taking the form of uncontrolled anger and, after days of being yelled at and random objects being thrown at their faces, they’ve eventually got the hint that they should let you alone.

They’ve given up on you —; but that’s exactly what you wanted, isn’t it? 

You can’t be sure, but you are trying to convince yourself that it is better that way. You’re not worth the trouble, and they definitely can’t spend all their energy trying to save you when people are actually dying outside. You would be fine, you would get through it —; right? Because that’s what you’ve always done, and there is no reason that this time would be any different —; you are strong, with or without them by your side. You just need a little bit of time for your scars to heal and then, everything will be back the way it used to be. 

Except that, despite the appearances, those thoughts never really left your mind. Sometimes, you think about your return and what would have happened if they hadn’t found you that day —; maybe everything would have been easier. For you, sure, but also for them. You are not even sure they would have accepted your return if they had a choice —; you wouldn’t have. At least when you weren't there, there wasn't that constant tension that now reigned over the tower, one that followed you into every room you set foot in. 

So you’ve made a decision —; you would rebuild yourself without them. You would make a new name for yourself, a new life, even if it means leaving them behind. There is this growing will deep inside you, the one that feeds off your anger and jealousy, and it’s the one to get your revenge. You want them to suffer as much as you have, to realize what they’ve done, and regret every of their actions. You want them to crawl back at your feet, begging for your forgiveness because you are tired of being the only one to make efforts.

You have waited so long for them to say or do the right thing, but the moment has never come because they can’t possibly understand your situation, let alone knowing what you really need to get better —; how could they when you ignore it too? Nothing feels right anymore. You have tried a lot of things but nothing works. Your life is now like a jigsaw puzzle whose pieces refuse to fit together. There is no way to make things go back the way they were, you could only keep on pretending. 

And so you did, locking yourself into a routine. Each day you alternate between training, going on missions or attending meetings, leaving yourself little free time. This hectic schedule has the advantage of allowing you to avoid the presence of others and keeping you from thinking too much while making you more efficient —; it is perfect, isn’t it? It is, most of the time but, some days, the illusion falters, and the facade you’ve built shatters, revealing the truth you are trying to hide.

That’s how you found yourself stumbling into your old bedroom, the one that now smells of dust, desperate for some comfort and familiarity. You didn’t even make it to the bed, falling miserably asleep on the carpet —; you didn’t have the strength to get up when you tripped over your own feet, too drunk to take more than a few clumsy steps.

⊱ ★ ⊰

There is only one person in the team who is willing to give you the space you asked for without agreeing to give up on you yet —; and it is Natasha.

You may not notice it, but the woman has always been here for you since you came back to live with them. It must be said that her gestures are minute, almost imperceptible, but they always manage to draw a slight smile on your lips without you realizing it —; she was perfectly aware that if you knew it was from her, you would start hating on those little things that made your daily life at the tower a little sweeter.

She is the one who always accidentally cooks more food than she needed, making sure there was always a portion waiting for you in the fridge. She is the one who makes sure that your favorite cutlery is always clean. She is the one who buys your favorite flowers to put them in the common room’s vase and never lets them fester. She is the only one who has taken the time to make you feel at home with a bunch of details that are so insignificant that you’ve barely noticed them.

But at least it helped soothe the guilt her heart carried, because these actions are proof that she was fulfilling the promises she had made to you a long time ago, in the secrecy of the night, under a starry sky, whispered words that has been immediately blown away by the wind —; “I’ll always be there for you,” she had said. ���Promise?” you’ve asked, your eyes full of hope. “Promise,” she had replied before your lips touched, sealing the contract.

One she broke years ago, when she dragged you out of the tower without letting you a chance to explain yourself. The woman is perfectly aware that flowers and some meals won’t be enough to earn your forgiveness, but she still made it her mission to look after you from afar —; because if she doesn’t, who would? You don’t let anyone get close to you, and the others haven’t looked any further, giving up at the first sign of trouble. She doesn’t blame you for not trusting her, or the other members of the team, she just wishes that you would accept at least one of their helping hands. 

But you’ve rejected everyone. 

Even Wanda, with whom you seemed, at one time, to be getting on well which had given the redhead hope. Those hopes had been shattered the day you violently pushed the witch away without any clear explanation, and the woman blames herself for that, for not knowing what to do in order to help you —; because she should know, right? That’s her role, the promise she had made years ago.

If she can’t, if no one can, what will you become?

You may be able to fool everyone, including yourself, into thinking that you are fine, but you won’t get her to fall for your little tricks. She knows the truth. She can see it in your fake smiles, she can read it in your tired eyes. She knows you by heart, she hasn’t forgotten those years spent by your side, and she has become a master at spotting your bad habits and the sublet signs that accompany them. 

So, tonight, she couldn't have possibly missed how firm your grip has been on the bottles of alcohol, nor how quiet you've been the whole time. But it is only when she saw the door to your old bedroom ajar that she understood the extent of your pain. You were hitting rock bottom, you would have never set foot in this room full of memories otherwise. She knew this because she, too, avoided it like the plague, and hadn’t dared return in it since that day, not even to empty it. For five years, it had remained the same.

The woman is willing to give you the space you asked for as long as you are taking care of yourself, it is the silent promise she made, but it is obvious that you have failed to do so lately as she has seen you slowly falling back into your old habits. The ones she thought you had left behind, the ones she had helped you to overcome years ago. She is ready to accept that you could build a life without her, it is a cost worth paying if it’s the one to your happiness, but you haven’t built anything lately. Nor have you been happy, and she couldn’t bear anymore the sight of you destroying yourself, again.

The redhead is tired of the situation. She is annoyed that everyone is playing your games by pretending that everything is fine because it only encourages you down this dangerous path, one that may cost your life one day. She is angry with anyone who takes the easy way out, because it is obvious that it is easier to act as if all that history belonged to the past rather than acknowledge their mistakes.

At first, she had agreed to play along, but it was only because she thought that it was what you needed and that, when you were ready, you would talk to them. Except that it has been a bit more than two years, almost three, since they brought you back, and you still haven’t told a word about it. The woman didn’t know how long she would be able to put up with your silence on this story and your obvious discomfort.

But it seems that the sight of you asleep on the dusty carpet of the room you once shared was the last straw for the woman who decided to step in. You are probably going to hate her tomorrow, but she doesn’t care —; she is not even sure you could possibly hate her more than you already do. She would rather know that you are safe, even if it means losing you a little more so she decides to call your name multiple times.

It is the sound of her voice who wakes you up. It doesn’t matter how deeply asleep you were because you can’t ignore her when she practically screams out your name, and you are inevitably roused from your slumber. When you opened your eyes, a growl escaping your lips to signal your displeasure, all you could see was a blurred figure with red hair that could only belong to one person. One you could recognize anywhere.

‘What are you doing?’ she asked, a mixture of annoyance and concern tinged her voice, but you weren’t aware enough of your surroundings to notice it. Maybe if your hand hadn’t been so heavy on the alcohol, then you would have noticed the tone of her voice.

‘I am sleeping, can’t you see?’ you grumbled, but as soon as the words escaped your mouth, the frustration was replaced by a laugh —; this question was stupid, you realize. Isn’t she supposed to be a trained spy, and one of the best, too? Then why couldn’t she see what was right in front of her? Something that obvious? 

Maybe she doesn’t know either because your question is followed by silence. Her only answer has been to sigh and pinch the bridge of her nose. It was going to be a long night, she already knew it, but wasn’t sure she had the energy to deal with that.

‘Come here,’ you said when the woman didn’t react. Your words were accompanied by the gesture of grabbing her arm in order to pull her toward you, the woman losing her balance because of the surprise. 

Since she had found you, you had never asked for her presence. On the contrary, you had rejected and hated her. At best, you would tolerate her presence, but only when your job didn’t give you a choice, and so this sudden change in your behavior disconcerted her, especially the laugh that escaped your lips when she fell on top of you —; it is a sound that she has never thought she would hear again. So pure, so sincere.

‘Get up,’ she coldly says, not amused at all by your little games. If circumstances had been different, she probably would have found your attitude endearing and stayed a little longer in your arms. Except there was nothing healthy about this sudden closeness after months of hatred, so the woman immediately got up, inviting — ordering — you to do the same —; the sooner she puts you to bed, the sooner she can get back to hers.

Tonight, she had no patience. The woman was exhausted, and frustrated —; you weren’t the only one to suffer from the situation. She knows that your clinging state is just an illusion, the result of the alcohol you’ve ingested, and that the very next day you’re going to hate her again. If she wanted nothing more than to believe everything would be okay now, and to find comfort in your arms, she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Not when she knew she would lose it all again at sunrise. This scene is only a chimera, a reminder of what she had lost several years earlier as the result of her own actions.

If anything happens tonight, you would both regret it. Nothing can come from the actions of two tipsy and exhausted people. Except that your mind wasn’t clear enough to realize it, and all you could think about in that moment was how you were craving for Natasha’s attention. You wanted her to wrap her arms around you and whisper that everything will be fine now, because she is here. You wanted her to promise to never let you down, again. Even if it is a lie. Even if, one day, she will abandon you again —; because that’s what they all do despite the promises, isn’t it? At that moment, you didn’t care about the lies, you just wanted something to hold onto, just an ounce of comfort.

‘I caaaaaan’t,’ you whined, but you didn’t even try to do so. When you stretch out your arms towards the redhead, she gets the hint that you’re expecting her to help you, which she does. The woman knows how stubborn you can be so she grabs your hands and pulls you on your feet, sighing.

Except that you seem to find the idea of testing the limits of her kindness particularly amusing because you make no effort to pull yourself upright, or to stand on your feet —; or maybe you were just that wasted. You’re barely standing when you fall forward, leaving no choice to the woman who has to catch you before you hit the ground.

‘Got you,’ you whispered, a grin on your face, when you felt her arms around your waist.

The thought of dropping you crossed her mind, but all she did was to playfully roll her eyes. The woman should be annoyed by the situation —; right? But how could she when you are so adorable? It has been a long time since she last saw such a peaceful expression on your face. Your eyes were half closed, you looked as if you were about to fall asleep in her arms, and there was a faint smile on your lips. You seemed so content, nestled in her arms with your cheek pressed against her chest, that she hardly dared to move, fearing to break this well-deserved moment of peace. For a moment, it was as if nothing had happened, and the sorrow on your face had dissipated, giving way to a childlike insouciance —; a sight that made her heart melt.

You are the one who broke the silence first.

‘I’ve missed you..,’ you whispered. A confession so unexpected that the woman is not sure if she had understood your words. When her eyes looked down, searching for yours, you hadn’t moved, your eyes still closed. It was almost as if you hadn’t spoken, and that the words had been nothing more than a figment of her imagination. 

‘Me too,’ she softly replied and, maybe, if you had opened your eyes at that moment, you would have noticed the tears that clouded hers — but you couldn’t do that, because you don’t want her to see the tears that you are trying to hold back, right? The one that would just run down your cheeks the moment you open your eyes. 

‘Please, stay with me tonight,’ you asked —; no, you begged. You’ve lifted your head until your eyes finally meet hers, both were shining with the tears that threatened to fall —; you are the first one to give in.

The mere thought of Natasha leaving you was enough to shatter your last ramparts. You have just regained her embrace, you don’t want to be forced to leave her now, not after so many years of hoping to regain the comfort you thought you had lost forever. You have been too stubborn to admit that you needed help, and so you’ve spent years pushing everyone away, thinking that you didn’t deserve their affection. It has been so long that you can’t even remember the last time someone held you this way, with such delicacy and care.

It gave you hope. The one that, maybe, for at least one night, things could be the way they used to be —; just tonight, or even just a few hours. You just want that moment to last a little longer, you don’t want to spend another night alone in your bed, in your cold and austere bedroom with a depressing atmosphere. You want more than that, you want a reason to stay, a reason to try again, and to get up tomorrow —; you want Natasha back. You want your old life back.

Except that the woman won’t give in. It is not that she doesn’t want to, on the contrary, she shares the same wishes that you, but her mind is clear, and she knows that nothing good would come out of it —; you can’t get back to what you used to have. You can’t change the past, nor can you pretend it doesn’t exist.

‘I can’t..,’ she softly replied after a second of silence that marked her hesitation, ‘you know that baby, we both,’ she added, the nickname naturally escaping her lips when she noticed that more tears were threatening to fall from your eyes. 

She wants to say yes, you can read it in her eyes, hear it in her silences —; then why doesn’t she say it? Why does she keep pushing you away when you are eventually ready for her to be back? Isn’t what she has wanted when she spent all those months begging you to accept her help? It is, but she didn’t want it that way, she didn’t want to take advantage of a moment of weakness on your part. She wanted to earn your forgiveness, to show you that you could trust her again, and if she had to work every day until she dies to achieve that goal, then she would do it. 

‘Why not?’ you immediately asked back, ‘you are here, and so am I, and- and our bed is waiting for us,’ you started rambling. You couldn’t speak clearly, the words racing through your head as you tried to convince her, but you knew it was a losing battle. You were so desperate that your hands clung tightly to the fabric of her shirt, as if it could be enough to stop her from leaving. ‘Please,’ you begged once more when she didn’t react. At this point, your voice was nothing more than a broken whisper, ‘just for tonight, we could pre~’ 

‘Pretend that nothing has happened?’ she softly asked, finishing your sentence, and all you could do was nodding. ‘But you know we can’t do that baby,’ she said, hating the way you were looking at her with so much hope, as if you thought that one night in her arms could ease all your problems —; but it can’t. It won’t. 

As she talks, one of her hands tucks a lock of your hair behind your ears. The touch is so gentle that you can resist, and lean into her embrace. The feeling of her hand caressing your head leaves too soon for your liking. 

‘Sometimes, I wish that we could,’ you replied, ‘that I could either forget everything, or go back in time to make everything right,’ you confided in her, sharing your thoughts with someone for the first time.

The words have barely crossed the barrier of your lips that you crumble, because you realize that this wish will never come true. You can no longer hold back your tears, you can only hide your face in the hollow of her neck, hoping she won’t see those. Only, each of your sobs shakes your body so violently that anyone could understand your state in one glance. The woman doesn’t know what to do so she cautiously wraps her arms around you and cradles your body in an attempt to sooth your sobs —; it’s the least she can do.

‘You’ve done nothing wrong, love, nothing was your fault,’ she whispered, and you can hear that her voice is feverish —; she, too, is holding back tears. She can’t bear to see you like this. ‘I am sorry, so sorry,’ she added while she rocks you slowly. Those words weren’t for tonight, and how she had to refuse your proposal, but they were for everything that has happened since that day. Those excuses were for all the things she has done or said since but, most importantly, for all the things she didn’t have the courage to do and the ones she couldn’t. 

⊱ ★ ⊰

The following morning, you’re woken up by Jarvis, his voice echoing through the room, terribly loud and impossible to ignore. A grunt escapes your lips, you were hoping for a few more hours of sleep —; or best, for an eternal slumber. The night before, like the rest of the team, you went to bed late, and the quantities of alcohol ingested are definitely not helping with your condition because you were the victim of a terrible headache. Only, it is impossible for you to ignore Jarvis’ voice. He has been calling your name over and over again for several minutes now, trying to get the attention you are trying to not give him —; but even with your hands covering your ears, his voice would pierces your eardrums.

‘You are not answering me, miss y/n,’ he stated the obvious, ‘do you want me to warn the others that you are sick? My sensors indicate tha~’

‘Please, Jarvis, shut up,’ you mumble, still managing to be polite despite the rising frustration, and you really hope it will be enough for him to leave you alone —; but anyone who knows the AI knows that these hopes are in vain. 

Nonetheless, you have to admit that he is right about one thing: you are not feeling so good —; but who would after attending one of Stark’s parties? He always says that if your head is not sore and your throat is not burning the next day, then you haven’t enjoyed yourself enough. Surely you have enjoyed enough to last a lifetime, although you are not naive enough to swear to never touch a bottle again in your life. Yet, you’ve thought of it for an instant, the lingering nausea making you regret your actions because it gave you the unpleasant feeling that you might throw up at any time.

God, you were weak. So weak that everything was feeling too much right now, even the faint sunlight making its way into your room —; it makes you want to bury yourself alive to avoid all these sensations, and to die. Except you can’t because you have a mission that is scheduled for today and, if you don’t show up soon, they will come looking for you, which is the last thing you want. You have spent weeks preparing for that, you definitely can’t let them down now, especially not because you are just too stupid to know your limits.

You have abandoned them once, you won’t make the same mistake a second time. They won’t be so forgiving this time, no one forgives someone who does the same mistake twice —; no one gives a second chance to traitors. It has been several years since you came back, but you still feel like you are on probation and you need to prove to them that they can count on you. You can sense their hesitation to trust you, even though they insist that everything is fine —; pretending that everything is the way it used to be. It is their new favorite game, but you hate it. Y

et, you don’t have much choice but to play by their rules.

‘Are you sure? Becaus~’ 

‘I said, shut. the. fuck. UP!’ you yelled, not giving him to finish his sentence, already reaching the limits of your patience, ‘what’s so difficult to understand in those two words?’ you growled in frustration, and you can’t help but throw a pillow at the walls. The gesture is useless because it doesn’t even manage to ease the tension you feel, nor does it convince Jarvis that he needs to stop talking because he starts lecturing you about your actions. 

Actually, the only way you have found to shut him up was to get up and join the others for breakfast. Fortunately, only Tony and Steve were there. They are the ones you are going on mission with today, and that’s what they were talking about before you entered the room.  Even though you would rather stay alone, talking about missions is something you can do with little effort because it is easy. You need your brain, but you can turn off your emotions. You do not have to worry about saying the wrong thing or how to avoid an uncomfortable silence. It is familiar, and comforting. It has been a while since you've been sitting at this table talking about something else —; when you are not talking about work, you stay silent. It seems that you have forgotten how to interact with them during those years. 

As they go through the details of the mission one last time, you are playing with your breakfast, not interested in the oat flakes floating in your milk, nor in their voices that forms a dull hum in the background, their words not even reaching your ears —; because you are thinking, your eyebrows furrowed with worry. Except that your state isn’t caused by the reasons they think it is, neither the alcohol nor the mission are in your mind, only a certain spy with whom you shared a moment last night. One you would rather forget because the simple thought of the thing you have said, and done, is enough to fill you with rage and embarrassment.

‘Hi to the moon, here the earth,’ Tony said, snapping his fingers in front of your face to get your attention, ‘were you even listening to us?’ he sighed, but you don’t notice any annoyance in his voice. Only a sickening worry that you can read in his eyes, a feeling that he doesn’t share and doesn’t hide very well. You hate it, when they look at you that way, as if you could break at any moment, as if they needed to be careful —; but you can take it. You can take everything, and you definitely do not need their permanent protection. 

‘No, sorry, I was lost in my thoughts,’ you admitted, giving him a smile that I hoped to be convincing enough to reassure him.

‘Do not worry, everything is going to be fine, okay? We will be here to make sure of that,’ Steve intervened, trying to reassure you about what he thought was the cause of your worries, but his tone didn’t feel comforting to you. If anything, it made you grit your teeth and clench your hand harder around your spoon, increasing your irritation. You don’t really know why, but Steve has been the hardest to get along with since you have come back, maybe it is because of his seemingly false sympathy. 

‘Thank you,’ you managed to mumble, even though you don’t really mean it —; it was still better than the snide comment that made its way in your mind. You even made the effort to smile, one that anyone could see as fake, but not Steve, because he never really pays attention to the others.

The words burn on the tip of your tongue, and you have to bite it to not shout out to him what you are really thinking. You want nothing more than to tell him that you are as capable as anyone around this table. You have proven yourself over the last few months, succeeding in every mission they have given you, what more do you need to do for them to have faith in your abilities again? Reach for the moon? Because you are ready to do it if that’s the price to pay. You are desperate enough to do anything they would ask. 

In reality, you are not worried at all about the upcoming mission because that is not a possibility. You don’t fail, ever, and if you need to give pieces of yourself and mind in order to complete a mission, then you are ready to do it without flinching. 

No, your thoughts were occupied by something else —; or someone else. Something that was more difficult to manage because there is no guide to follow. This person is Natasha, and the cause of your worries is the moment you shared last night because you have no explanation for what happened —; you thought she hated you, and that you hated her. Aren’t you both supposed to despise each other for the pain you’ve caused? Then why do some of you still yearn for her presence? Why didn’t she reject you and, instead, decided to take care of your mess? This even wasn’t meant to be. The redhead is the last person that should have witnessed you in such a vulnerable state, and yet she is the one you have sought attention from, the only one you needed last night —; and you hate that. You hate how your feelings are still the same even after so many years.

That is exactly why, the second the woman that is haunting your thoughts stepped in the room, you left it, pretending that you needed to get ready for the mission. There is no way that the way you walked out of the room, leaving your untouched breakfast behind you, didn’t bring questions to their minds but you were long gone before any of them could say something.

˚ 　 ⋆ ⁺ ₊ ✦ ⁺ ₊ 　 ˚ 　. ˚ . 　 ☁ . 　　. 　 ˚ 　⁺ ⁺ ✦ ₊　 　 ☁ ˚　 . ⁺ ₊ ✧ ˚　 . 　  ˚　 ⁺ ₊

˚ . ⤳ MOODBOARD ⊱⋆⊰ MASTERLIST ⊱⋆⊰ TO SAY SOMETHING ✦ Part one. Part two. Part three. ⊱⋆⊰ the scars in our hearts.

. ☁ ˚ ⤳ TAG LIST — @cd-4848, @chocolatestrawberrykryptonite, @escapereality4music, @fxckmiup, @gemz5, @jusnough, @m0nsterqzzz, @marvelwomenarehot0, @mrsrushman, @riyaexee, @takeyaki, @taliiiaasteria.

[hangesdarling]

Idea! Hange who finds out her rival in the scouts is actually just a massive bottom

rivals, right? — h. zoë

PAIRING. Hange Zoë x female reader SYNOPSIS. You and your rival Hange were forced to sleep in one tent for an expedition. CONTENT. 18+, MDNI, nipple sucking, fingering, oral sex, a bit slow burn WORD COUNT. 2.1k A/N. sorry anon i missed the part where they're scouts :") they're both section commanders on this one though. hope that's alright!

"I'm not sleeping with you," you groaned, the irritation sharp enough to cut through the night. 

"You make it sound weird when we're just sleeping in one tent," Hange said with an amused laugh, padding up the tent floor with a few blankets so it wouldn't be too rocky to lie down on. 

So annoying, you might be thinking. Hange always acts coy, teasing even as if your constant clash and rivalry were an amusement of some sort. Years of training and expeditions, even as scouts, Hange always managed to be linked with you. Both were labeled the smartest, both became section commanders at the same time, and both were considered respectable researchers. Your titles always one up with the other, a tight competition you never seemed to have an agreement on. 

"Ugh, why is it always with you?" You mumbled behind the notebook you're scribbling on. It was loud enough to reach Hange's ears. 

"Sorry, dear. Every tent is occupied," they said simply. Hange placed two makeshift pillows, peeking over the tent as if waiting for you to come inside. You glanced in their direction but turned away almost instantly. 

"I'll be out here for a while," you muttered, focused on scribbling on your notes. Hange looked over your shoulder in curiosity, crawling beside you. 

"Observations, huh?" Hange remarked, pushing their glasses up so their eyes could follow your scribbles. 

You blushed at being observed, quickly hiding the notes you were writing. 

"Nah, just listing why my research is more relevant than yours," you saved yourself from awkwardness, pulling a smug smile. 

Hange laughed, tilting their head almost mockingly. "That's kinda pathetic, don't you think?" 

"Heh, not when I get those two titans for my experiment," you replied, lips curling into a smirk. 

Ah, so damn stubborn, Hange thought. They shook their head lightly, still amused by how you managed to pull this stubborn behavior with them for years. You're typically kind and soft-spoken with other scouts, an authority to be respected, not feared. But Hange finds it almost ridiculous when you both act like bickering children around each other. 

"Would it kill you to share a titan with me? Besides, Erwin said we only get to capture one titan each."

"Out of all people, you should know that won't be enough," you replied. The situation you're both in just hardens your stubbornness. How could humanity thrive and gain knowledge when research is always limited? Tight budget, the shitty authority; Survey Corps never seems to run out of problems. 

"Well, we have to work with our limited resources, you know," Hange explained. "We're not supported enough in terms of this. Our supplies are insufficient. That's probably why we're sharing a tent."

"I'll do something about that," you mumbled like a steadfast promise. "Just go to sleep for now."

Hange looks at you for a while, perhaps in admiration or judgment. But in any way, they see the reflection of their resolve. 

"You should sleep too. It would be a long day tomorrow. Good night, Y/N."

Do something about it, huh? Hange slept with that curious thought, wondering what risky method would you try to pull in the next few days. 

---

Being outside the walls stopped feeling new after your tenth or fifteenth expedition. As a scout, you always have some sort of fear just from the countless tales of unsuccessful expeditions and a tower of dead bodies after one. 

 But now, you managed to expertly map through the routes outside just from memory. Where titans roam the least or the best view to watch over their behavior. 

You were sitting atop a branch of a large tree, binoculars in hand, and planning where to stage the capture. Your mind went through the manpower and equipment sent with you outside, wincing at the fact that the capture could be dangerous. Hange managed to develop a catching net some months ago, ensuring a safe capture. However, with the tight route and a precarious amount of titan, you doubt that this capture would be entirely safe. 

From another tree, Hange was watching titans, observing how slow they usually walk without bait. They are focusing. Supposedly. 

But now and then, their binoculars would travel over where you sat, the lenses perfectly capturing your distress at the current conundrum. 

No sooner, you felt another presence at the tree—Hange's familiar footsteps, careful to reach you on that wide branch. 

"You're worrying about the route, isn't it?" you heard them whisper behind you as you lowered your own binoculars. 

"Not just that," you sighed defeatedly, head on your hands. "I was thinking that two titans really wouldn't be enough for us even if we shared."

You handed Hange your notebook much to their surprise. They flipped over the pages, gaining an understanding of your concerns. Your desired experiment might be ambitious and idealistic but it would be helpful if you succeeded. But with resources so limited and countless lives to take into consideration, how would you able to do this?

Hange sat beside you, still thumbing over some pages. Even if you're turning your face away, Hange could tell you were trying hard not to tear up from the frustration and possibility of loss. This was important for you after all. They've watched you study, observe, and create all of these for over a year. 

They placed a hand on your shoulder, squeezing it lightly before saying, "We could do something about this, you know that. Come with me."

----

"Why do you always kick your blanket off when you sleep?" Hange asked curiously one night in the tent. 

"No, I don't."

"Yes, you do! I had to tuck it beneath your feet at least three times last night," Hange argued. 

"My, don't bother with it..." You brushed it off, turning away from them to hide your face. You tried to trace back since when Hange Zoë's relationship with you became so casual, almost friendly. If your mind wanders far enough, you might consider something else happening. Affection, maybe. But you shrugged all those thoughts off, reminding yourself that the plan you agreed on was purely for science and the advancement of humanity. 

"But you're weak to coldness," Hange continued, covering you in several layers of blanket, ignoring the pout on your lips. They had a grin on their face when they said, "Don't want my research partner getting sick, do I?"

"We're not research partners," you frowned.

"Eh, why not? I just told you my whole plan and you agreed with it."

"Doesn't mean we're partners from now on."

"God, you're one stubborn lady," Hange chuckled, a sigh escaping their lips. They pulled their blankets over them, slowly dozing off. Outside, the night was filled with the gentle chirps of crickets, chorusing at one point. Even with such proximity, you could feel Hange's warmth, their gentle breathing only conveyed that they must also be awake. 

---

The next morning, you and Hange's plan set into motion, traps were located strategically in a different route. Both of you were taking full liability for what would happen in the days to come, informing the soldiers about the need to capture four titans to sufficiently conduct the research. It wasn't the safest plan, some were hesitant but many trusted your scheme since all of you share a common goal. 

You commander your unit, imparting knowledge of the best actions to take. But for the remaining hours, your eyes remained on your notebook, pretending to check details to reach the optimum result. However, Hange knew you had an entirely different reason. Maybe to interact less with them, afraid they would bring up how you two ended up tangled in each other's arms last night.

---

"I'm just letting you know that won't happen again," you said flatly, eyes boring upwards through the tent as you lay down. 

Hange turned their head to you, their lips forming into a subtle smirk once more. "What is?"

"Um, last night..." you said in a low voice. 

"Ah, you mean when you're hugging me so tightly?" Hange asked smugly. 

You bit your lip, trying to save yourself from this. "I was asleep. Not responsible for my actions, but forgive me for disturbing your sleep."

Much to your surprise, Hange hovered over you, their deep brown eyes glinting almost knowingly against the dark space inside. The atmosphere thickened, your heart ramming louder than the sounds of night. 

"No need to apologize for anything, sweetheart," they whispered, their eyes following your lips the way your eyes do for them. In that heated moment, all that you've both held in flooded out like a dam breaking and gushing to spill over. Hange placed a firm hand on your shoulder, keeping you pinned on the blankets as their lips met yours. It was a firm kiss, your lips nearly melting into each other's. Your hands traveled on Hange's hair where you tug and pull them closer. Hange sat you up in their lap, gaining better access of your neck and chest. Their hands snaked under your clothes as they ask for permission to go further each time to which you only nod. 

"If you want to have me so bad, you shouldn't have spent years being annoying," you muttered into the kiss. 

"Says the one who wouldn't let go of me last night," Hange smirked, a thumb circling your clothed breasts. "Besides, you should've picked up on it early on. You're so smart after all."

"You know, you look more attractive when you shut up," you muttered as you fell on top of Hange. Their flushed face look at you expectantly, expecting you would dominate this whole ordeal. After all, they saw you in that dominant, commanding light after years of leadership. 

But Hange noticed how flustered you were just from being on top of them. Your thighs kept straddled on their lap, your hands resting on their shoulder, not knowing where to hold on. Hange smirked, taking it as a sign to flip you over once more. Their breath was warm against your ear as they whispered, "It's okay, Y/N. Let me do it for you."

Hange locked your lips in a kiss once more, bundling your shirt on your chest. Their lips slithered from your lips down to your throat, reaching the trail between your breasts. They kept one firm hand on your wrist as their tongue gently circled one of your nipples, sucking their lips on the hardened bud.

Hange covered your mouth before you let out high-pitched noises from the sensation. 

"Shhhh... You don't want your subordinates to hear you, right?" They smiled against the darkness. 

The night was slow and heated as you let Hange do wonders with their mouth and fingers, always managing to draw out a soundless moan from you. Your lips could only part, your hands clenching around their body. They were amused to see you follow along and nod with their wishes, so compliant with their charm.

Hange had the button of your blouse open, your breasts spilling out into their face and the warm flesh of your stomach open for their wet kisses. 

"You know," Hange began, drawing their fingers in and out of you at a teasingly, slow pace. "I didn't expect this much submission from you."

"Shut up, Hange..." you breathed out, a hand over your eyes as you were beginning to write against their fingers. Hange held down your hip, tugging your pants a bit more so they could have more access to you.

"As you wish, m'lady," Hange placed a kiss on your clit before gently lapping up the warm wetness gathering on your slit.

Hange kept on until the faint light of dawn slitted through your tent. You forgot just how much stamina they had to draw one orgasm after another from you. They only stopped when you've whined and writhed enough under them, pleading for a break. Hange fixed up your clothes, smoothed out your hair, and drew the blanket over you again as if nothing happened. Their wet lips kissed you once more as they said, "You still have a few hours to sleep. Sleep tight, sweetheart."

---

The capture will take place during the afternoon. The equipment was set, and the soldiers were preparing their ODM gear for however long the capture may last. 

The scouts passed by, even some of your friends, noticing the slight shift of the atmosphere but couldn't quite put it into words. Maybe this time their section commanders weren't bickering as usual. They went with that fresh start in high spirits,  brushing off their suspicions whenever they saw Hange place an arm around your waist or whisper something to make you laugh or blush. Your unit didn't think much of it, even attributing it as a minor hallucination or a ripple in the universe. There's no way their section commanders are getting affectionate.

After all, you're rivals, right?

likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated, sweethearts <3

[itgetsdark-x]

He Who Hides In the Shadows

Summary: You loved Tommy Miller, of course you did; he was the perfect gentleman. He was kind, he was generous and he was easy on the eyes. It’s just… he wasn’t Joel Miller. Loosely based on the idea from a lovely anon ask (here).

Warnings: 18+, MDNI plssss!! Public sex, age gap (unspecified but Joel would be mid forties, reader in twenties), unprotected p in v (do better & wrap it), mild degrading, use of ‘daddy’, breeding kink (ish), mentions of voyeurism, cheating, dark!Joel themes.

Characters: Joel Miller x (f) reader, mentions of Tommy Miller x (f) reader

Word Count: 5.8k

Life in Jackson was good, well, as good as life could be given the state of the world; it almost had a familiar sense of old times and a safeness you had craved for years. 

You first stumbled into the gates of Jackson around fourteen months ago, you had been shot in the thigh by a raider and had managed to stumble your way to safety; everyone was hesitant to allow you through and into their safe haven, and you understood it. 

The citizens were kind enough to tend to your wounds, dress them and feed you; you ate properly for the first time in months. You looked at your surroundings, the warm interior of the communal canteen as a kind woman explained the ways of living in Jackson. 

That’s where you saw him for the first time… he was tall, broad and so rugged; he had brown hair with soft white hairs peppered through the gentle locks and he had the most intense brown eyes, they were dark and so much pain swam in them that it made you want to reach out and hold him. He locked eyes with you and you felt as if your surroundings blurred together, all you could focus on was this nameless man. 

“Joel Miller.” The lady sat opposite of you announced. “He’s… a troubled man, older brother of Tommy Miller.” She informed you with a soft smile. 

“Oh, I, I wasn’t staring.” You mumbled as you shovelled food into your mouth quickly, returning your gaze back to your plate of food. 

“It’s okay, hon, a lot of women tend to stare at the Miller brothers. Just human nature, some things never change, even during the apocalypse.” She laughed. 

You made a small noise, it sounded alien to you and then you realised it was a laugh; it wasn’t a noise you had made in years. 

“Anyway, I’ve got you a small one bedroom house on one of the quieter streets; it’s been unoccupied for a few years but should be fine, the water runs hot and there’s electricity too. I’m on the next street over so please feel free to come over and spend some time with me and Jacob, my husband. My name is Lara.” She pushed another plate of food over to you and you looked up at her with thankful eyes. 

“This place is fucking amazing.” You cursed, tucking into the next lot of food. “I mean, sorry. Thank you, y’all have been so nice to me already.” 

“I understand, we are definitely blessed in this community.” She smiled, watching you eat up the food before you. “Anyway, hon, I should get going. I’ve got a shift to work in the kitchen, ready for the evening rush. If you need anything at all, you come and find me. Don’t worry about helping out just yet, you heal up and get yourself right.”

“Thank you.” You smiled, the gesture felt foreign, you had spent so many months alone that you couldn’t even recognise what it felt like to feel a small glimmer of hope and joy. 

Lara left you in peace, she squeezed your shoulder before she walked off. You looked around at your surroundings once again, Joel was no longer stood in his previous place but instead he was sat at a table opposite yours, next to him was another handsome male. You could notice the similarities between the two of them but this younger male was much softer in appearance, his features weren’t hardened by pain and roughness. 

The younger of the Miller men caught your gaze, he smirked at you, noticing your blushing cheeks and within seconds he was closing the distance between you both. 

“Well aren’t you pretty, not seen you around here before. I’m Tommy Miller, pleasure to meet you.” He said softly, outstretching his hand to shake yours. 

You shook his hand and introduced yourself by your name.

“I’m sure I’ll be seeing a lot more of you around here, darlin’.” He said before tipping his hat and going back to sit with his brother. 

The rest, they say, is history. Your relationship with Tommy had been a whirlwind, you kept finding reasons to bump into the younger Miller and eventually, he got the hint and asked you out on a date. You and Tommy had been together for about a year now and it felt like a dream. 

You were in a domesticated bliss, you lived with him in his house that he shared with Joel but you didn’t have much involvement with the older Miller male. He kept his distance and things between you always felt icy; you understood why, he had been through so much loss in his life and Tommy assured you he was the same with everyone, which was somewhat true. 

-

You were stood in the kitchen, washing dishes from the day before, humming to yourself when you heard the door click open from the front of the house. You assumed it was Tommy, back home after his shift patrolling. 

“Hi honey, I’m just doing dishes. I was thinking maybe we could spend a little time together before Joel gets home; I’m pretty sure I’m ovulating, this is gonna be our month. I can feel it.” You giggled, wiping your hands on a dish towel as you walked through the kitchen, you stopped dead in your tracks when you were greeted with the sight of a sweaty Joel. 

He looked at you with a raised brow before he kicked his boots off.

“Well, there’s an offer.” He laughed dryly, his lustful eyes drinking in your body. 

You pulled your arms around yourself awkwardly and cleared your throat. 

“I obviously thought you were Tommy.” You huffed.

“Obviously.” He smirked. “‘M gonna go take a shower and head out for the evening anyway.” He shrugged and with that, he stomped up the creaking staircase to the bathroom. 

You rolled your eyes as Joel disappeared upstairs. You and Tommy had been trying for a baby for a few months now, you knew it was relatively soon into your relationship but when the world made no sense anymore, this made perfect sense to you both. You loved him so much and he loved you just the same, it made sense that you wanted to create your own little bundle of joy to share your love with.  

You finished up the dishes and wandered upstairs to lie down for a while and wait for Tommy to return home. You passed by the unoccupied bathroom and found yourself standing outside of Joel’s bedroom, you lingered by it for a second; you were unsure what you were waiting for but you couldn’t seem to pull yourself away from the spot. 

His door was cracked open and something inside of you told you to look in. You sucked in a deep breath and your hands shook by your sides as you watched on. Joel’s back was turned to you, he was naked and although you couldn’t see his front, you knew what he was doing; his shoulder jerked rhythmically and you could hear his soft grunts as his arm sped up. You swallowed down the gasp you were holding in, you knew you should turn away and leave him in peace but you couldn’t help but continue to stare on. 

Your heartbeat threatened to burst right out of your chest, you could feel your blood thrumming through your veins as adrenaline coursed through every inch of you.

Joel grunted softly as he fucked his fist, he knew he was close to cumming and he tried to stay quiet but he couldn’t. He groaned out and then it happened, your name came rumbling out of his mouth like a forbidden curse. 

You went to walk away but the floorboards beneath your feet betrayed you, a loud creak erupted the silence and you stood there like a deer in headlights, your eyes were panicked and wide. Joel turned to face the door; his chest was heaving and you could see him now, his hard cock glistening with beads of precum as his fist held the base. Your mouth fell agape, wrapped around his member was a pair of your panties; it was evident to see, there was no mistaking the stolen garment belonged to you. 

Joel smirked at you, his cock jumped with arousal and he continued to stroke himself, only this time, his eyes were locked with yours as you gently nudged the door open a little more. He pumped himself roughly and brought a single finger up to his lips to shush you from speaking before he grunted loudly and spilled his hot seed all over your stolen panties. 

You were ripped from your trance when you heard the front door unlock once again, and you knew for sure this time that it was your boyfriend returning home. 

You walked away, your cheeks were burning and you felt ashamed. Why? Why did you feel ashamed? Joel was the one who stole your underwear and used it as ammunition to jerk off. It was confusing to you, Joel always seemed so distant with you, so cold and you just assumed he hated you, like he hated most people. 

“Hi baby!” You smiled, greeting your boyfriend at the door. 

“Hi honey.” He smiled back, he went down to undo his boots but you were on him in a flash. 

You pressed his body against the front door roughly and pressed your lips to his to capture him in a deep kiss, your hands snuck under his shirt and started to peel the layer of clothing off of him. 

“Hm, what’s got into you?” He chuckled lowly, lifting his arms so you could take his top layers off. 

“Ovulating,” you mumbled against his lips, deepening the kiss again as your fingers lightly scratched down his torso. “And you drive me crazy, need you.” You whispered. 

You wrapped your hand around his wrist and lead him to your bedroom without further distractions. That night, as Tommy made love to you, you couldn’t help but let your mind wander to the older Miller brother and what you had seen. 

—

That eventful day was three weeks ago, since that moment you had noticed the tension between you and Joel had become so thick and unbearable that anytime you shared a space with the male, you struggled to suck in a breath. You felt guilty for having watched him, you felt even guiltier that it made your panties wetter than they had ever gotten with Tommy and that night, you orgasmed to the thought of Joel. 

You knew you should have been disgusted and you should have ratted the older male out to his brother but anytime you tried to bring it up, the words died slowly in your mouth and never escaped. You pushed those thoughts deep down and swore to never mention it, you didn’t want to upset Tommy. 

Instead, you avoided Joel like the plague, anytime he was coming back from patrols or a shift, you would find any reason possible to leave the room and make yourself busy. Tommy hadn’t really noticed it, you disguised your discomfort well; you would leave to make dinner, to wash dishes or go and see Lara, your friend; it all seemed fairly normal but Joel knew and it only seemed to make him more persistent in his attempts to be in the same room as you. 

—

The sun was setting over Jackson, Tommy was on a night patrol, your least favourite and you were at home, alone. Well, besides Joel. 

As the evening ticked on; you had done everything you possibly could to avoid the older Miller brother until it was time for you to go to sleep, or at least retire to your bedroom for the evening. 

You had scrubbed the kitchen clean, made food for when Tommy would come in during the early hours of the next morning, scrubbed his work clothes clean and hung them up in the kitchen to dry in front of the stove. 

You had a brief shower and finally, you were able to sink into the warm comfort of your bed. Your door was pushed to, barely left open by a crack and you let your eyes drift closed, patiently waiting for sleep to overcome you. 

Time seemed to move impossibly slow, it felt like you had been laid there for hours, waiting for sleep to take you but no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t get comfy, you couldn’t get your temperature right and sleep didn’t feel like it was ever going to happen for you. 

You huffed loudly and threw the covers off of you, letting your arms drop either side of you in frustration as he huffed again before your mind started to wander. 

Soon, before you could stop it, thoughts of Joel fucking his fist were filling your mind and you felt yourself get slicker. You chewed on your bottom lip as you contemplated your next moves; Tommy wasn’t going to be home for hours to satisfy you and sometimes you did fall asleep quickly after masturbating. It didn’t help that you were ovulating again, which meant you were more horny than normal. 

You let you fingers slide under Tommy’s oversized t-shirt just so they could trail over your panties; you shivered at your own touch and without any more messing around, you dipped your fingers between your wet folds and started to circle your swollen clit. The immediate relief was like a wave crashing over you intensely and you gasped as your back arched up when your fingers sped up. 

—

Joel heard your bed creak, the problem with these houses in Jackson is that they were old and poorly made; the walls were thin and the floorboards creaked, not to mention a lot of the handcrafted furniture or hand-me-down’s. 

He crept out of his own room to check if you were okay, he reached yours and Tommy’s bedroom door and through the crack, he could see your body glowing in the low light of the moon seeping through the threadbare curtains. 

There you were, arching up and he could see your nimble fingers pleasuring yourself. It was his own perfect picture of sin waiting for him to take. 

Joel couldn’t help the way his cock twitched with interest in his jeans; you were everything he wanted but couldn’t take. Ever since he laid eyes on you, the first day you arrived in Jackson, he knew he had to have you and since then, his dark obsession only grew. 

And the fact you were with his brother? It only drove him madder and made him want you even more. 

—

“Oh, yeah, fuck. Just like that, daddy.” You whimpered quietly as your fingers dipped lower to sink into your hole. 

You had never once called Tommy daddy, it was a nickname you had reserved for Joel in the darkest, deepest and dirtiest depths of your mind. That small, reserved section of your mind that Joel took up; even when Tommy would be fucking you, you felt your mind drift off to thoughts of him. Thoughts of his thick cock. His hot ropes of cum on your soiled panties. The way he locked eyes with you and didn’t think to stop. 

You felt the heat of shame swallow your body as your eyes screwed tightly shut, little flecks of white danced behind your eyelids as you came around your fingers; your mouth agape with pleasure. 

“Dirty fuckin’ girl.” Joel muttered, pushing your door open further and stepping into the dark room. 

“What the fuck!?” You screeched as you pulled your fingers from your panties and sat bolt upright to see the older Miller smirking at you. 

“My brother know you’re at home fucking yourself? Or is he not doing a good enough job and you’ve gotta satisfy yourself?” He cooed, stepping closer to your bed until he perched at the foot and stroked his hand up your foot. 

You kicked his hand away and folded your arms across the old fabric of Tommy’s t-shirt, trying to hide your hardened nipples. 

“I’m gonna say this one time, and one time only… fuck off, Joel. I’m with Tommy. End of. I love him. I don’t want you.” You all but spat, your voice sounding like pure venom as you spoke. 

“Oh. Feisty little girl. My brother got a fiery one. Good for him.” He smirked, his hand stroking further up your leg with each word. 

His hand finally reached your upper thigh and the breath in your throat caught shakily; you felt like you suddenly couldn’t breathe and every touch of his finger tips felt like multiple electric shocks to you. 

“Joel.” You warned. “I-I- I’m with Tommy, you need to l-leave?” Your voice was shaky, even with all good intentions you couldn’t help the way it sounded more like a question than a statement. 

“Hm?” He purred, his brow quirked as he pushed your thighs apart; he could see your inner thighs glistening in the cool glow from the moonlight, your arousal making your skin sticky. “Fuck.” He groaned. “So wet, this all for my brother? Hm?”

“Y-yes. Of course, who else would it be for?” You blushed. 

“I heard you call out daddy, you callin’ Tommy that? Something he don’t know yet? He gon’ finally be a daddy?” Joel’s fingers stroked so gently over your panties you weren’t even sure that he was actually touching you, yet you couldn’t stop yourself from shuddering. 

“No. No. He’s not — I mean, we’re not.” You mumbled, your breath shaking as you watching Joel’s dark eyes rake over you. Your arms were back by your sides and your fingers were clutching at the sheets below you. 

“That’s a shame.” He tutted, pressing one of his digits hard against the damp fabric of your panties. “You would look so sexy, all round and full. Fuck, you deserve to be bred the way you deserve.”

“Joel —“ you breathed, your eyes fluttering shut as his finger pressed against your sensitive clit. “We shouldn’t. I mean, we- we can’t, I’m with Tommy. Please don’t make this harder for me.” 

“Come on baby girl, let me show you just how much better I am than Tommy. How much better I could be for you. Better lover, better daddy.”

You gasped at his words, they had such a visceral effect on you; it was instantaneous, with each word you felt yourself practically dripping for him. 

“Fuck. Come here.” You whimpered, leaning forward to grab Joel’s shirt to crash your lips together. 

It was an aggressive clash of lips, teeth and tongues; within seconds, Joel’s tongue found its way into your mouth and was kissing you in a way you could have only dreamt of with Tommy. 

Joel’s hand found its way to your jawline and he gripped it tightly as he climbed onto the bed to lay next to you. His other hand found its way under your shirt to grope at your breasts.

Everything felt so familiar yet entirely different; Joel’s hands were larger, they were rougher and more calloused than Tommy’s. His touches felt more aggressive, more lustful and you couldn’t deny the way it drove you mad. 

Joel’s facial hair scratched at the soft skin of your face, again, in a way that was entirely different to Tommy; it was hotter, it was forbidden. 

“Waited to kiss you like this since day one. Fuck, you feel so good under me.” Joel groaned against your lips as his fingers toyed with the hardened buds of your nipples. 

You arched up to his rough fingers and instinctively spread your legs further for him, all shame seemed to dissipate with every grope from the older man. 

“Fuck, I need more. Please.” You whimpered. 

Joel took the hint quickly, he kissed down your neck and trailed his fingers down your sternum before he finally reached the waistband of your panties. Joel breathed deeply as his fingers finally dipped into the damp fabric, he didn’t mess around and immediately, his fingers found your clit without any fumbling around. 

Your eyes widened at Joel and he just smirked as he circled it expertly with his thick fingers. He ducked his head down and kissed you once more, his teeth nipped at your bottom lip as you whimpered underneath him. 

“Fuck.” You whined pathetically under Joel. “Fuck, daddy. Fuck.” 

The words spilled from your mouth, they were smothered against Joel’s mouth but he still heard them and he smirked once more. 

“Fuckin’ knew you thought about me. Filthy little girl, aren’t you? Look at you, all whored out and for who? Your boyfriend’s brother. Filthy little slut.” Joel cooed with deep condescension. 

You whimpered again, it was all you trusted yourself to do; you knew if you tried to talk, your words would die in your throat and would fail you immensely.

“Take that top off. Need to see your beautiful tits again, fuck. Think about them all the time. I watch you, y’know.” Joel whispered into your ear. “I watch you when you’re showering, watch the way you soap up your tits. Fuck have cum over that image so many times.” Joel admitted. 

You gasped at his confession, you knew you should have been disgusted by his words, by his actions but it only seemed to grow your attraction, your arousal for him further. 

You quickly sat up, legs still spread for Joel and whipped the T-shirt over your head; your tits bounced gently as you laid back down and Joel let out a near animalistic growl at the sight of you below him. 

“Need to taste your pussy. Fuck. Need to so bad. Can’t stop myself now.” He smirked and without another word, he was removing your panties and positioning his head between your messy thighs. 

He used his thumb and finger to spread the glistening pink of your pussy before he licked a fat stripe up through your folds, collecting your arousal on his tongue. He did it a couple of times before bringing his head back up to you. 

“Open.” He hissed at you. 

There was a momentary second of confusion before you obediently opened your mouth for Joel, your tongue hanging out in anticipation. Joel spat into your mouth slowly, a fat line of your arousal and Joel’s spit landed on your tongue and you swallowed it back eagerly. 

It was filthy; it was pure debauchery and you honestly thought you might have died and gone to heaven right there. 

“Oh fuck, that’s it. Such a good girl.” He praised and dipped his head down to suck your clit into his mouth. 

He suckled at the nub gently, the pressure sending thousands of shockwaves through your body at once. You shuddered with the pleasure and a soft whine fell from your lips. Joel’s nose nudged at your mound as his tongue flicked over your clit before he circled it and then went back to sucking at it; he repeated these motions in consecutive moments but would switch up what he would do next. Just to keep you on your toes. 

“Fuck. Daddy. I’m gonna cum.” You cried, tears pricking at your eyes from pure pleasure. 

Never had Tommy made you feel like this; your body was on fire, your skin was flushed and a slick layer of sweat settled all over your body. 

“Good girl. Cum for me. Fuckin’ soak my face. That’s it. Atta girl.” Joel praised between his pleasuring movements of his tongue. “Call me daddy again, driving me mad.” He hissed, spitting onto your clit before licking it back up with a flicking motion of his tongue. 

“Daddy!” You whined, your back arching off the bed like a possessed woman. “Oh my god!” You whined, the noise getting caught in your throat as your orgasm ripped through your entire body. 

You peered down as Joel licked you through your orgasm and you noticed the way his hips were grinding against the bed. This man was going to kill you off. He was so turned on by eating you out that he felt the need to hump at the bed like a horny mutt. 

“Jesus Christ.” You whimpered as Joel dragged a slow finger through your folds just to place a playful slap to your exposed pussy. 

“I prefer daddy.” Joel smirked, sitting back to remove his shirt and unbuckle his jeans. “How do you wanna take me, my good girl?”

Your head was swimming, it span with pleasure and you could barely think straight for more than two seconds. 

“I — um, you choose.” You whispered. 

“On all fours then, I know that’s how you like it the best. You always seem to cum the hardest when he fucks you like that.” Joel grinned, removing his clothes and standing at the edge of the bed, giving his thick cock a few testing strokes. 

You swallowed roughly, feeling as if there were razor blades sliding down. “You… you, you watched us fuck?” You asked dumbfounded, the words sounded bizarre as they bounced around the room. 

“Course I have, darlin’. Told you. I wanted you the moment I saw you. Just ‘cause you ain’t mine officially doesn’t mean I was gonna stop wanting you.” He spoke so calmly, like it was a totally normal thing to say. “And for the record, I know you ain’t ever cum that hard with Tommy, now you’ve got me thinking you fake it with him.”

“I do not.” You protested, your voice not convincing even to yourself. 

Joel raised a brow at you in question, his lips turned up at the corner with an air of a smirk. 

“Fine. Fucking fine. I’ve faked it a few times.” You admittedly quietly. 

“Atta girl, ain’t so hard to tell the truth now, is it?” He said smugly. “Now, get on your hands and knees, show me that pretty cunt before I destroy it. Good girls get rewarded and you’ve been real good for me, sweetheart.”

Silently, you positioned yourself for Joel; still unsure of why you were doing this; why you were potentially throwing away your great relationship and for what? A couple good orgasms. You were fucked. 

Joel tapped the thick head of his cock against your entrance and instinctively, you tried to push back onto him. 

“Tsk tsk tsk.” Joel cooed, slapping your clit with his hardened cock. “Not until I say so, baby girl. I’m in charge, I decide when you deserve my cock. Not sure you’re even gonna be able to take me. You look so tight and perfect.”

“Fuck, you’re such an ass. Such a tease. Please, I need it, Joel.” You whined petulantly. 

“Try again, sweetheart. Who am I?”

“Daddy.” You whispered. 

“And what do you want?” He beamed smugly. 

“Your cock, please, daddy. I want your cock so bad. Please.” You mewled. 

“Good.” Joel praised, he pressed his cock into your tight heat, so slowly that you felt every inch of the delicious stretch. “Good girl.” He sighed as he bottomed out in you. 

Under Joel, your fingers grasped at the sheets and your knuckles turned pale under the intense grip you had on them. He was big. Not just in length but he was girthy, thicker than Tommy was and you knew going forward, he wouldn’t be able to satisfy you in this way.

“You’re so fuckin’ tight. Clearly not been fucked in the proper way, so wet and tight for me.” Joel groaned, drawing his hips back slowly before thrusting forward slowly once again so you could feel every inch of him; every notch and vein of him. 

You nodded under him, your words failing you once again as pleasure swamped your body like an infection; it took over every one of your senses.

Joel’s fingers gripped tightly at your soft hips as he built a steady rhythm, with each thrust you could feel his cock head nudge at the spongy bundle of nerves deep inside of yourself. It was heady and intense, your fingers tingled as Joel fucked you roughly. 

His soft, slow thrusts from the start were long gone; he held you tighter as his hips snapped forward with force and pure fervour. 

“Daddy. Feels so good.” You whimpered under him, your tights swaying back and forth as he fucked you. “Want you to fill me up. Breed me, please. Fuck.” You pleaded. 

Joel couldn’t help the groan that rumbled from deep in his throat, it was a deep and masculine noise that shocked you. 

“Hm, want me to give you that baby you want so bad?” Joel asked, landing a harsh spank to your doughy ass cheek. “Want to feel my cum leaking out of you as you try to sleep? Hm? Want my cum to stick to your inner thighs ready for when Tommy’s home?” He spanked you again as he spoke and you nodded eagerly at him. “Bet you would, little fucking whore.”

“I am. I’m a filthy little whore. All for you though, daddy. Not for him.”

Joel buried his cock deep into you and snaked his hand around to your mouth. 

“Spit on them, slut.” He instructed abruptly. 

You collected some spit on your tongue before you spat onto Joel’s digits, ignoring the way it dripped onto the sheets below you. 

He took his spit-slicked fingers and placed them on the swollen nub of your clit, you gasped at the contact and Joel circled it perfect, the spit and your arousal making it easy for him to pass his fingers directly over the sensitive bundle. 

“I bet Tommy wouldn’t even be surprised if he came home and found some other man’s cum making you all messy and sticky; he knows you’re a filthy little whore, perfect little sinner.” He groaned, his fingers working faster to bring you closer to your orgasm. 

“I’m gonna cum again, Joel.” You whispered, his name falling off your lips with ease, like you said it all the time. 

“Sound so sexy when you say my name.” He cooed. “You want to cum on my cock? Hm? Wanna cum on it whilst I fill you with my hot seed. God, wanna breed this little cunt so bad. So hot and tight. Hope I get you pregnant.” He growled. 

Joel’s words, his fingers and his cock all worked in perfect unison to push you off the edge and fall into your second, intense orgasm; your head lulled forward into the crook of your elbow as you clenched around Joel’s still cock. You felt so full, so deliciously full and you wanted to stay like this forever. 

“Good girl. Now let me cum in this little cunt. You ready for that?” He asked softly, brushing some hair away from your shoulder before he placed a soft, tender kiss to the skin of your back. 

It was a stark contrast to the way he had just been treating you and it made your stomach flutter with adoration for the older male. 

You nodded, it was all Joel needed and he went back to gripping your hips with an intense tightness. He pulled his cock all the way out before he snapped forward again; his thrusts were rough and short, you could tell he was just rutting himself to his own greedy high. All you could do was whimper and moan underneath him, taking everything he had to offer. 

“I know baby. I know. It’s okay. Almost there. Such a good girl.” Joel mumbled, his thumbs smoothing over your skin as he fucked into you feverishly. 

You whined under the male as his hips stalled and stuttered, and then, suddenly you felt the hot ropes of his cum coat your insides. Joel’s thick cock twitched inside of you and for a second, you felt even fuller than before as his seed filled you. 

Joel stayed like that for a second, only moving his hips with slow, sloppy thrusts; the obscene squelching noises of your arousals filled the silent room and you whimpered pathetically. 

He slowly pulled out of you with a hiss, his cock fell and he collapsed onto the bed. You winced as you moved to lay next to the male, you knew you were going to be feeling sore for the next couple of days but you liked it, it would serve as a real reminder than this actually happened and wasn’t the result of a heavy night of drinking or a weird fever dream. 

“Fuck.” You muttered, leaning up on your elbows to suck in a few deep and shaky breaths. “What the fuck have I done? What the fuck did you do?” You hissed, collapsing back onto the bed with a soft sob; the lust clearing from the room as the grim reality settled around you. 

“Gave you what you’ve been wanting, sweetheart. It’s okay.” Joel offered up softly. 

“Joel…” you whispered. “I’m - I’m ovulating and you just came right inside of me. Oh my fucking god. I’m dead. Tommy is gonna kill me. Tommy is gonna kill you.” 

“Tommy won’t know. Just make sure you have sex with him in the next couple of days and you’ll be golden. And well, if it happens. It happens. Uncle Joel at your service. If it doesn’t, we’ll try again next month.” He teased, with his forearm draped over his eyes. 

“You’re not fucking funny.” You yelled. “Get out Joel, you’re fucked in the head. Get out.” You screamed, slapping his side and pushing the male off the bed. 

He got off the bed and held his arms up in surrender. 

“Okay, chill out. I’m gone. Tommy won’t know, I won’t say a word. And when you want this to happen again, you say the words and I’ll be right here for you, sweetheart.” He smirked as he bunched his clothes up into his arms. 

He picked up your discarded panties and left the room without another word.

You wrapped the duvet around your naked body and sobbed quietly to yourself; this whole situation was about to get real fucking messy. You laid there, tears staining your cheeks as you prayed that it wouldn’t happen as different scenarios played out in your mind like a horror movie.

You weren’t sure when you fell asleep but you awoke to the mattress dipping next to you and Tommy placed a kiss to your shoulder and stroked your side. 

“Hello baby,” he whispered, snuggling up behind you. “Smells like sex in here.” He said, with a soft chuckle. 

“That was me…” you muttered, still not daring to look your boyfriend in the eyes. “Got so damn horny I had to touch myself, I couldn’t wait for you to get home.” You lied and closed your eyes. 

“Now as exciting as that sounds, I’m so tired I don’t think I could even get it up if I tried. Tomorrow? I promise.” He laughed, kissing your shoulder again before he turned his back to you and fell asleep. 

You laid there for hours, watching your peaceful boyfriend sleeping; letting the guilt nibble away at every piece of you before you saw Joel leave for the morning patrols. He walked past your bedroom door, he lingered for a few seconds, looked at you with a smirk before he raised a finger to his lips in a shushing motion and winked at you. 

You bit on your bottom and squeezed your legs together; it shouldn’t turn you on but still, here you were, laid in bed with his brother as your core throbbed for Joel Miller. 

-

-

[1-ker0sene-1]

Would you consider writing for a reader with face blindness and the other ways they have to identify the boys with?

Like whenever they just freshly walk into a room the reader has to stare at them for a moment until they say something or until they spot the part of them they use to identify them, then they get all happy to see them.

I just think it’d be really cute and face blindness is never a disability I see anything for, it lacks a lot of representation but affects a lot of people. Living with face blindness is a serious struggle, because even if someone is family, they’ll always wear the face of a stranger

{I don't mind at all! I did have to do a little research, as I personally was pretty curious at how somebody with this disability sees faces. If I got anything wrong please let me know! ♥️ As always I hope you're having a lovely day anon♥️}

Price

It took John some getting used to. Not that he doesn't try to accommodate, he just often forgets you don't see the way he does. He's so caught up in loving on you, he doesn't really mind whether you see him. So when he's meeting up with you on dates, coming over to sit at the table where you're already waiting for him.

Seeing that pretty face of yours contort into confusion and even a bit of nervousness makes his brows raise.

"I um.. I'm waiting for someone-"

You mumble out to what you assume may be a stranger.

"Are you now Darlin'?"

John chuckles, reaching to hold your hand from across the table. Lifting it to kiss your knuckles, blue eyes softening at you.

"I'm right here."

Gaz

Kyle would get used to it pretty quickly, trying to find ways for you to recognize him easily. Fuck he'll wear a goddamn cat collar if you ask him to. He won't want you to feel bad for it either.

"You don't need to see me lovie.. you know me. You feel me. And you've done a hell of a job loving me."

He mumbles, if you still feel bad- he'll take your hands and place them on his face. Telling you to just close your eyes and feel.

Anytime he sees the confusion starting in your eyes he tilts his head and cheekily tells you.

"The best boyfriend-"

"Kyle!"

He grins when he gets to watch your reaction to him. It's kind of ethereal.. He gets to see in real time the love bloom across your features. It hits him to, just falls for you everytime he sees it.

Soap

Luckily, Johnny can never really sneak up on you, purely cause he can't keep his mouth shut around you. He didn't even know for the longest time before you outright told him of your disability. He always calls out first, with that Scottish accent and slang, he's pretty recognizable. Between his call outs of-

"Bonnie!"

"Aye there's my lass.."

"Where you ofta' hen?"

Followed by being swiftly scooped up or pulled into his arms. You will have to explain the condition, he's gonna ask questions. Not that he has any doubts, he's just incredibly curious at how you see the world. He'll listen to every word as you describe it, holding your hand to his cheek. Your thumb brushes over the scar on his chin.

Ghost

Personally I believe Simon would be the most effortlessly accommodating. As soon as he finds out you have this disability, he finds a pretty good solution in his eyes. His balaclava. Not many wear a skull balaclava in fucking daylight. So often he wears it until you at least see him, just so you don't panic and can somewhat recognize him better. Then he'll slip it off.

There's maybe a couple times he doesn't wear it. Most likely he just forgot, arriving home. His stealth can sometimes be a curse when you can't recognize him. Poor doll. Nearly jumped out of your skin seeing some big guy in the corner of the room.

"Fuck- it's me love- jus' me."

He does feel bad about it. But the way your eyes light at his voice never fails to make him smile. Tugging you into his arms. Mumbling an apology for scaring you as he kisses across your skin.

[nayedoll]

could you write a joost x reader where he’s been working all day & night and reader just wants some attention, he gets a little (only slightly) annoyed and reader sadly leaves him only mumbling something about that she just wants to cuddle with her boyfriend, and joost starts to feel bad and finds her on the couch/bed and makes up with her?

hurts me too

joost klein x gn!reader

a/n: so cuteeee really enjoyed writing this, ty anon 🍰🍰🍰 lesson of the day: pastries bring people together

word count: 1k

───────────────────────

You said goodbye to your coworkers as you exited the coffee shop you worked at. You winced at the cold air against your face, pulling your phone out eagerly to text your boyfriend.

i’m off work early todayyy

You didn’t expect him to reply right away -or at all- considering the amount of unanswered texts you had been sending him lately. Joost had been busier than usual, preparing for a new album and his tour all at once. Despite your best efforts to be understanding, you had grown quite mad at him for neglecting you as time went by.

When he wasn’t at Teun’s place, he would spend all day in a small room he designated as a “studio” and often sleep there, leaving you alone on the bed. The whole situation had taken a toll on you, even making you insecure about whether or not Joost liked you anymore.

Your phone buzzed in your pocket and you pulled it out surprised to see that Joost had actually replied. It was a selfie of him smiling and doing a thumbs up, the tiredness in his eyes evident and his blonde hair messy. You couldn’t help but feel bad for him, acknowledging the stress he must have been feeling.

You headed home in a hurry, stopping by a bakery just to get him something to eat and hopefully rekindle the romance between you by your small act of love.

“I’m home” you yelled entering the dimly lit apartment that seemed empty. There was muffled music and talking coming from one room and you assumed Joost was still with Teun. You decided to not disturb them and made your way to your room to change clothes. As you exited the bedroom, you greeted Teun who was also on his way out.

“Y/n! I didn’t know you were here,” Teun smiled.

“Yeah I got back home a few minutes ago,” you explained, focusing your gaze to the half closed door behind him in hopes of catching a glimpse of Joost.

“Well I guess you’re lucky cause I was just leaving, so you can have Joost all to yourself” Teun said and you laughed as he put his shoes on in a hurry and left. You knocked on the door before opening it reluctantly just to peek inside. Joost turned around from his chair, met your gaze and shone you a lazy smile.

“Hey” he said, his voice slightly hoarse. You smiled in return and walked over to Joost, excited to reunite with him. You hadn’t seen each other since the previous evening as he had fallen asleep on his chair again.

“Brought you some food,” your voice was soft as you spoke, aiming to loosen the tension between you. Joost nodded with a smile as you handed him the pastry before returning his gaze to his laptop. You sat still for a second, a bit annoyed at how he ignored you, then brought your hands to his shoulders, massaging the area there.

He hummed in response letting his head fall back a little. You took that as a sign to continue and lowered your head, placing small kisses along his neck and jawline. “I’ve missed you,” you purred against his ear as you slowly moved your hands on his chest and he stopped them from going any lower.

“I’m working” he said breaking the kiss between you.

“It can wait,” you whined and continued kissing him, ignoring his words. “Just a few more minutes” you said in between kisses but Joost persisted on being negative and pulled away from you.

“Y/n stop, I need to finish this” he raised his voice ever so slightly insinuating that he was annoyed at you.

“Okay jeez,” you said in a firm voice in contrast to how soft and sensual you had been just five seconds ago. Joost stared at you as you exhaled a disappointed sigh, visibly angry at him.

“Just wanted some time with my boyfriend,” you mumbled as you walked out of the room, your voice barely above a whisper but Joost heard you. He muttered some curse under his breath, immediately regretting the way he reacted. The sight of the food you’d brought him only added to his guilt before he got up and came out to the living room.

You were sitting on the couch watching a movie while nervously fidgeting with your fingers. You glanced at him confused as he walked over and placed the food in front of you.

“I got this for you.” you remarked, your voice sounding stronger than you intended it to be.

“Yeah but it’s your favorite cake flavor” he replied, you looked away fighting back a smile. You heard him walk to the bathroom and take a shower, coming out shortly after with a blanket in one hand and a grin on his face. You playfully rolled your eyes and scooted over, making space for him on the couch.

He covered the two of you in a big white blanket as he sat down. His body felt warm next to yours, smelling of eucalyptus and lavender when he embraced you in a warm hug and you rested your head on his chest, taking in his intoxicating scent.

“Y/n?” Joost’s voice broke the silence of the room.

“Hm?” you hummed in response, curious as to what he was going to say.

“I’m sorry about before.” he said, his tone apologetic. You smiled softly even though he couldn’t see it and nodded.

“It’s okay” you reassured him, caressing his stomach.

“I know I’ve been a complete asshole lately,” Joost sighed, “But I just really want this album to be good and I want you to like it too” he added.

“I will unless you continue working like a maniac” you chuckled and he chimed in on it.

A few moments of comfortable silence followed in which he played with your hair while you felt his chest rise up and down with each breath. You were dozing off to sleep when Joost spoke again.

“I wrote a song about you, y’know” he said causing you to lift your head completely and break the hug.

“Really?” you asked, your eyes widened as excitement took over your voice. Joost nodded smiling and you kissed him eagerly, placing small pecks all over his face.

“Damn, has it really been that long since we last kissed?” he joked and you smacked him playfully to which he mouthed ouch laughing. You snuggled on his chest again, this time for good as you both drifted off to sleep, your fingers intertwined with his under the warmth of the blanket.

[moonstruckme]

Hiiiiii mae 🥹 I have a prompt if you might be interested? First prompt not-anon, second request total 💃🏻

At work they play the radio and I heard in an interview that humans are born with only 2 natural fears: falling and loud sounds. Those fears are universal and the only things people are born fearing - every other fear is learned!

I couldn’t help but think of sweet Spencer explaining this when placating (or trying to placate) reader who is anxious/has a phobia/is feeling nervous! Hope it inspires something but no pressure xoxoxoxoxo love you long time

Hey babe, thanks for requesting!!

cw: public speaking anxiety, criminal case in court (case details not discussed)

Spencer Reid x fem!reader ♡ 573 words

You’re cold with sweat and trembling in your fingers when Spencer sits down next to you. 

“Hi,” he says. He sounds nearly as nervous as he makes you. His voice, you’ve noticed, is as gentle as his disposition, unchanging regardless of who he’s speaking to. And you’ve heard plenty of Spencer Reid’s voice throughout this case. 

You keep your arms stuck tight to your sides, wary of what you suspect to be atrociously large pit stains. “Hi.” 

“Do you want some water?” 

You take the bottle he holds out to you, not because you do want it but because you’re too nervous to contradict anyone about anything right now. You wonder if that makes you susceptible to suggestion. If so, that will probably not hold up very well in literal court. 

If Spencer’s dissatisfied with the tiny sip you take from the water bottle, he doesn’t say so. 

“You seem nervous,” he says, somehow both kind and matter-of-fact at once. “Is it because of the defense?” 

You shake your head, though that’s not untrue. The defense attorney is only one of the myriad of people you’re going to be expected to speak in front of in a few minutes. Your heart is a squirrel in your chest, scampering wildly

“I don’t really like public speaking,” you say. 

Spencer nods pensively. He’s good at this, at making you feel like he’s really absorbing what you have to say. You’ve wondered on occasion if it’s part of his training. 

“You know, it’s interesting,” he says. “There are actually only two natural fears that humans are born with; falling and loud sounds. Everything else is learned, we pick it up somewhere.” Spencer sets his elbows on his legs, slouching so he can see your face. He’s so handsome it’s unbearable. “Where do you think your fear of public speaking came from?” 

It has the makings of a personal question, but Spencer’s curiosity seems so pure it’s hard to hold it against him. 

“I don’t know,” you answer honestly. “It’s just always made me nervous.” 

Spencer’s mouth purses. “It might have been so early or subtle that you don’t remember. For a lot of people it comes from feeling like they’re going to be judged.” 

Your lip finds its way between your teeth without your permission, and when you look over Spencer’s gaze is knowing. 

“Everyone is here to judge the accused,” he says gently, “not you. You’re important as a witness, and we’re lucky to have you here, but no one is going to care if you mess up. Their job is to pay attention to what you say, not how you say it. All you have to do is tell the truth.” 

“Yeah.” You try to breathe in, but the air won’t settle in your lungs. “Yeah, okay.” 

“There shouldn’t be any loud sounds or falling in there,” Spencer goes on. If he wasn’t such a professional, you’d almost think he was joking with you. “So nothing’s going to hurt you. You’ll be okay, okay?” 

You glance at him again, and the profiler’s lips are curved in a small smile. You don’t know how he can do it, stay so good when he spends his whole day knee-deep in the minds of bad guys. But despite what he does for a living and all he’s certainly been through because of it, there’s a lightness about Spencer. It feels like peace. 

“Yeah,” you say again. “Thanks.” 

[aviiarie]

˚ ₊ ‧ ♡ HAUNTED HOUSE — feat. lyney event masterlist.

synopsis. your new house is a bit strange. doors keep slamming, there's whispering in your ears, and you have the distinct feeling you're unwelcome here. warnings. none (?) notes. requested by anon. ghost!lyney au. gn!reader. 2.2k words. IM SORRY THIS IS LATE. i was busy and forgot :((

“Four bedrooms, two bathrooms—not including an ensuite in the master bedroom—and a very large garden. There’s a lake towards the south of the property, and it is within walking distance of the local town.” The real estate agent flashed you a dazzling smile. “This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Houses of this quality aren’t typically offered at this price.”

You looked around, admiring the delicate architecture. The paint might have been peeling in some places, but the arched windows and carved pillars gave the place a timeless and elegant atmosphere. With a little fixing, the house would return to its former glory in no time.

“Why is it priced so low, then?”

“While it is still in good condition, the house will require a lot of upkeep. There are renovations and repairs that need to be done, but nothing that isn’t salvageable.” The woman explained.

The reasoning wasn’t unplausible, but it still didn’t sit quite right with you.

“Is there not any other reason?” You pressed further. “You told me there weren’t any other buyers lined up. Why is that?”

Her smile dropped minutely, and her hands clutched her clipboard tighter. “I-I suppose that would be the fault of its… um, reputation.”

“Reputation?” You frowned.

“Oh, just silly rumours. It’s nothing to be concerned about, but the townsfolk are a superstitious lot.” She replaced her smile, gesturing to the front door. “Shall we look at the interior now?”

-----

It wasn’t a difficult decision to make. She was right, it was an unmissable opportunity; there wasn’t a chance that you were going to find a house as nice as this one on a budget as tight as yours.

You moved in over the weekend, settling all of your belongings in the spacious, already furnished rooms. The inside of the house was just as pleasant as the exterior, filled with expensive-looking furniture covered with dusty sheets, and hanging chandeliers that cast a warm glow over every room. Even the gardens, covered in dead leaves and debris, were oddly quaint.

It was perfect, almost too perfect.

“Mail… got to check the mail…” You muttered, fumbling for the key to the mailbox. It was your third day, and you had already almost fully settled in. Most of your possessions were out of their boxes, and almost all of the rooms had been cleaned and dusted.

When you opened your door, there was a woman stood on your porch, staring up at the house with a melancholic expression. She looked much older than you—in her fifties, perhaps—with ash-blonde hair streaked with gray, violet eyes and pale, wrinkled skin. On her left cheek was a faint, star-shaped mark, like a tattoo that had long-since faded.

“So, it’s true…” The woman murmured, eyeing you up and down. “They finally sold the place…”

“Can I help you?” You asked hesitantly. She stared at you for a long time, before shaking her head.

“No… just reminiscing.” She straightened up, pulling her cardigan tighter around herself. “Good luck. He is fickle, but not unreasonable. I hope for your sake you are able to reason with him.”

Bewildered, you watched as she shuffled back down the street into the direction of the town. Her words made no sense, but her tone was enough to make you uneasy. The way she spoke of a ‘him’ made it sound like there was someone for you to be wary of, a hidden face to fear.

When you made it to the mailbox, it took a few turns of the key for the lock to click open. You peered through the slot, fishing out a flyer, two letters, and a folded piece of paper shoved into the corner of the box. The flyer was a promotion for a new pizza shop downtown, the letters were both bills, but the last item caught your attention most of all.

Tucking the others under your arm, you unfolded the note. The paper was fragile, almost crumbling under your fingers, but you managed to pull it open anyway to reveal an old advertisement that looked to be cut out of a newspaper.

Lyney & Lynette’s Magic Show. The title was printed above a cartoon drawing of two magicians, with one holding a large top hat and the other pulling a rabbit out of it. At the bottom, in much smaller text, was the date of the performance: February 2nd, 1985.

Despite being decades old, the advertisement was still intact and fully readable, even if the colours were slightly faded. And yet, as you moved your hand, you noticed a smudge of black on your fingers.

You flipped the paper. On the back there was a simple message, scrawled in fresh black ink: GET OUT OF MY HOUSE.

-----

The note should have been your first sign to leave, you didn’t pay it much mind. Instead, you crumpled the paper up and threw it in the garbage bin outside, chalking it up to some kid trying to play a trick on their new neighbour.

You had more important matters to concern yourself with, namely the attic that you had yet to clean. It was filled from top to bottom with enough dust to make you cough and splutter as soon as you opened the trapdoor. Still, you pushed forward, covering your mouth with a cloth as you cleaned away the dusty furniture and boxes that were stacked along the side.

Leaning against the attic window was what looked like a frame, half-covered in another white cloth. With a gentle tug, the fabric was pulled free to reveal an oil painting, depicting a family portrait. There were four figures, a tall woman with white hair and sharp eyes, a young boy with a blonde bob and grave expression, and a pair of slightly older children with matching ash-blonde hair.

The dust covering the frame was twice as thick as the rest of the attic, as if the painting hadn’t been touched in decades. With the fabric shielding the family from view, it was as if whoever lived in the house previously had hidden them away, out of sight.

Absently, you stretched out a hand, intending on wiping away some of the dust with your fingertips.

Crack.

The sudden noise made you jump, pulling your hand back to your chest. With a pounding heart, you looked over to where a floor-length mirror, one that was leaned against the wall only five minutes prior, had fallen onto the floor and shattered to pieces.

“No!” You hissed, leaping to your feet. You hurried down the ladder to grab a garbage bag and broom from the kitchen, returning to sweep up the broken glass and quickly dispose of it.

In your rush, you never noticed that the oil painting had been covered up with a cloth once more.

-----

After that, the strangeness kept adding up.

Doors slammed at random times of the day, glasses shattered in your hands before you could take a sip of your water, whispers sounded from the corner of your room in the middle of the night. You couldn’t keep telling yourself you were overthinking things, not when the signs were so clear.

Whatever apparition was haunting your house, you could sense how unwelcoming it was to your presence. There was an anger that hung in the air, as if it resented you for simply being there. It didn’t seem as though it was trying to harm you—not directly, at least—but it was clear that it was hell-bent on driving you out. When scaring you didn’t work, it seemed to redirect its strategy to irritating you instead.

One morning, you woke up to find all your left socks missing. With a scowl, you put on a mismatched pair and walked to the store to buy several new pairs.

The next day, all of the furniture in the living room had mysteriously moved to the bathroom, including the television. Unfazed, you simply curled up on the armchair and watched your favourite show right there.

That same night, you stumbled out of your room to pour yourself a glass of water, only to realize that the cups and glasses were stacked on top of the refrigerator. You didn’t even bother to drag a chair over to retrieve them, you just found a decorative teacup out of the display cabinet, and sipped your water out of that.

It was persistent, but unlucky for it, you were stubborn. This was your house now, and you weren’t going to let some ghost scare you off.

The final straw came when you were relaxing by the fire, reading a book. It was a long day at your new job, and coming home to a warm house was a dream come true. But you had barely opened up your book when all of the lights above you flicked off, and the fireplace was suddenly snuffed out.

The room was plunged into a thick darkness, and your precious warmth was stolen away, making you shiver. Something inside you snapped, and the annoyance you’d built up over the past month finally made you crack.

“That’s it!” You shut your book with a click, slamming it down on the table.

You stood, scanning the darkened room. The shadows of the furniture loomed across the walls, twisting into ominous shapes by the moonlight spilling through the blinds. “I know for a fact you’re here, so listen. I don’t care what vendetta you have against me, but this needs to stop. I’m not going anywhere, this is my house now.”

There was long pause, before you spoke again. “You can hate me as much as you want, but I am not going to let you push me around.”

You glance around, waiting for some shift in the shadows, some sign that the spectre was hearing what you were saying. “Am I clear?”

The room fell into quiet again. It stretched on for what felt like hours, leaving you wondering if there truly wasn’t anything there at all, and whether it was just your paranoia getting to you again. The air was thick and tense, the only sound being the distant ticking of a clock from another room.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

Finally, a voice cut through the silence. “…It is my house, actually.”

Your head snapped to the side, finding the faint, flickering image of a man sitting on the side of the couch with his arms crossed. He looked young, in his early twenties at the oldest, and was dressed in some sort of stage costume. On his cheek was a small teardrop marking, standing out against his pale face.

“Who are you?” You blurted out before you could stop yourself.

“Should I not be asking you that question?” The man raised an eyebrow, annoyance etched across his expression. “Considering you are the one who is trespassing on my property?”

“It’s not your property if you’re dead.” You said bluntly, internally wincing at how insensitive it sounded. Still, knowing how much he had put you through halted any pity you felt for him. “I bought this house, therefore it's mine.”

“It is mine.” His eyes narrowed. “I lived here for years. If it is not mine, it is my brother’s or my sister’s. You are neither of those people, so you are not welcome here.”

“Clearly neither of them want it, or else they’d already be here.” You countered. “I’m living here now. You’re going to have to get used to it.”

He glared at you. The edges of his image blurred and wavered, becoming indistinct. “That’s easy for you to say. Do you know how frustrating it is, having a stranger barge into your home? Having them rearrange your furniture, disturb your belongings? Sure, I’ll get used to you sifting through my family’s heirlooms and tossing them aside like they’re nothing. I’ll get used to it all.”

The anger in his voice didn't hide the trace of pain behind his words. He was clearly just frustrated, and you couldn't exactly blame him.

“Look, I’m sorry,” You sighed, shoulders slumping. “I know… I know it must be hard for you. And...”

You chew the inside of your cheek in thought, looking away from him to observe the empty fireplace. There were still embers flickering at the bottom, even after the flames had been extinguished.

“We don’t have to be friends,” You turned back to him, smiling hesitantly. “How about you consider me your… roommate?”

The man stared at you unblinkingly. The proposition looked like it offended him just as much as the idea of giving up his house did, but there was something else that you couldn't quite figure out in his expression.

Was it... loneliness?

It made sense, in a way. Being trapped for however long since he'd died, without another soul to accompany him, loneliness was inevitable. You could only imagine how he felt, holing himself up in his house and lashing out at anyone who dared to disturb him. Even with the anger clouding his face, there was still a longing in his gaze at your proposal.

“A fresh start then.” He broke out into a sharp, painfully fake smile, and held out his hand in offering. “My name is Lyney. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

🏷️ taglist: @tragedy-of-commons, @mollzaj, @wystiix, @mikashisus.

© aviiarie 2024. do not copy, repost, translate or use my work to train ai

[thewinchestah]

"Chega de Saudade" - Alastor X Reader fic

Pairing: Alastor x Fem!Reader.

Summary: When Alastor breaks into the V's building seven years later he expects to find a lot of things, lot of obnoxious, enraging, tacky things. He did not expect to find you. The Radio Demon does not take betrayl lightly and you have to live with the consequences of selling your soul to his worst enemy. Better yet, you have to live with the consequences of selling your soul to Vox and Alastor finding out. The soul you sold because Alastor left you for 7 years. Safe to say, it's a mess. A pretty, angsty, dark and delicious mess.

Warnings: Alastor is in Hell for a reason,general hellish violence,general hellish creepiness,eventual smut, i carioca coded valentino bc i can and bc he is very carioca sorry everyone,blackmail, Soul Selling, author is really invested in politics and decided to micromanage hazbin hotel canon, Corruption, Extortion, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, but nothing too explicit,mature themes in general, canon divergence, Not Canon Compliant, Eventual Smut, Alastor gets insane in this one you've been warned, fear play, Possessive Behavior, posessive sex, big bad radio demon is gonna fuck up the guy who stole his girl and will make it everyone's problem, Reader-Insert,no y/n,no beta we die like men here, i feel bad for tagging vox in this fic cause i think it's a disservice i really hate him and i make it clear so vox stans be warned, it's hell i hope y'all remeber ethics are fluid, posessive!Alastor, unhinged!Alastor, Isane!Alastor

Taglist: honestly only my queen @jyoongim i have no credibility to tag anyone anymore after being away for so long. If you wanna be tagged on future updates just let me know!

A/N:HI HEY BUNNY ANON IF YOU ARE STILL HERE THIS ONE FOR YOU!! Hiii everyone guess who's back. I had this fic cooking for a while now, actually i had a lot of writing cooking but in a very Ao3 author fashion a lot happened. You see i was on this writing streak and then my 15yo dog died while i was out of state. I had to go back on anti depressants and take a sabbatical. I got a new puppy and she's the light of my life. Got super sick, won a horse show. My first plan for this fic was having the first 3 chapters done and ready for debuting together because i always feel i'm lacking when i show up with only one chapter lol. After a while i realised i needed to get this first chapter out too see the light of day if i wanted to write again so here it is. This fic is a bit different from my other Alastor fics and i have a rough outline of 5 chapters so i think this beast will be more than 20k words long for sure. I decided to get a little deeper into Hell's politics and all the "no one ever thought of using heavenly weapons against hell even tough Hell's ancient and the best worst of humanity and demonkind is here". I call that bullshit sorry i'm brazilian i'm well versed in shady politicians and shady politics and unfortunatly, dear reader, you are in for this ride too. This fic kicks off right after "Stayed Gone". Also did i mention i'm brazilian and that my works are heavily inspired by brazilian media. This entire fic was inspired by one of my favourite songs of all time "Chega de saudade". And let's be real, Alastor and bossa nova are the perfect match. So yeah, english is not my first language and this isn't beta'd so sorry for any confusion or mistakes. Thank you so so much for reading my fics and always leaving the most kind beautiful and heartwarming feedback. I hope i can still deliver a nice story to my darling readers.

Click here for my other fics.

CHAPTER ONE: chega de saudade a realidade é que sem ela não pode ser.

In the first year you were calm and collected. There’s a perfectly reasonable explanation to why he is gone. Is he even gone, gone? He’s coming home soon, you can feel it. 

In the second year you convinced yourself there were signs everyone explaining why he was gone and when he was coming back, you were just too oblivious to them before. But everything can be a sign when you are delusional.

In the third year you cried so much you felt you were constantly drowning. You barely left home and some thought you were gone too. Gone to him.

In the fourth year you finally gave in and took the deal. Lack of self-preservation and machiavellian schemes working together to create a trap for him. He would come home out of anger, ire. But you can't outfox the fox.

In the fifth year you decided to scour hell and beyond after him. You went to places just to taunt him. Paranoia became your best friend, blood sweat and tears as you repeat “This time it will work, I'm sure of it”. Can a lie be said so many times it becomes the truth?

In the sixth year you accept defeat. You buried him deep and went about like he never existed in the first place. Isn’t it mystifying how this city screams his name?

It’s the seventh year now. The alarm on your phone rings and rings and you feel like scratching your face off. It’s time to meet your damned executioner.

Rolling out of bed you open the curtains to let some light in. The penthouse from the V’s building has a great view of Pentagram City, looking down you get the feeling of dystopian sci-fi that is so characteristic of the technology district. Limelights, digital outdoors, and big opulent, oppressing screens greet you like a constellation of dead stars, long distorted from their original purpose and form. 

You follow processional routine as you get ready. Choose a beautiful dress, put on make-up, and do your hair. It all feels like preparation for a sacrifice. One thing you learned from Alastor is that appearances are the best strategy and you intend to greet your handmade battlefield like a roman legion. 

Alastor. Even thinking of his name hurts, especially today when you need to face the consequences of your actions, the consequences of his actions. He is gone, he left you. And now Vox owns your soul. You blame your fall from grace entirely on him, he forced your hand, he made you do it. Out of desperation, out of defiance, you sold your soul to Vox so he would come back and save you, so he would come back out of hatred, anger and ire to tell how foolish you were, how betrayed he felt.

Betrayal. Selling your soul to his sworn arch enemy should be treason worthy of him dropping anything he was doing to come and punish you, to address you. You just wanted to get a reaction out of him, proof that he still cared. That he didn’t just get bored of the empire of terror he fought so hard to build in Hell. That he didn’t, deep down, just disregard you like a shiny novelty, to be left when it got old. 

You dry the persistent tears that insist on falling with clinical coldness. You are past feeling sad now, you don’t even feel angry anymore. You are past any emotion really, you just want to get this over with and get back home.

You went about your deal with Vox in many different ways, sometimes you felt like it was a good alliance, a slap on Alastor’s face. A side quest to gather as much information from the V’s inner circle, a social experiment. The truth is, during these past almost four years you were a mental gymnastics pro to justify your new arrangements. The cognitive dissonance required to live with the decision of being forever tied to Vox was an herculean task and boy he didn’t make it any easier on you. He would never be as refined as Alastor when it came to torture but there’s something about the coldness and calculated reality of the television business that was it’s own type of Dante’s inferno.

As soon as he got word of Alastor’s disappearance the TV overlord was on your scent, and he wasn’t shy about it either. You dodged him and led him on for almost four full years before finally giving in, everything was more or less under control during the early years of Alastor’s disappearance. 

Until you saw the angel army leaving.

  Death and gore were all around you. The sky rained blood. You couldn’t breathe. You tried to take a step forward only to realize you were knee-deep in demon blood. Adam was particularly ruthless this time, he seemed to have realized the unbalance in Hell’s power structure with one of the most prolific demon overlord’s absence and took full advantage of it. You choked on the sulfur filled air while the portal closed and Adam threw a last middle finger at the Pride Ring. A clawed hand offered you support as you were about to fall, your heart skipped a beat, for a split second you felt elation. In that split second a thousand thoughts, four years of misery and confusion passed through your mind like a movie. You were sure this was Alastor, showing up after the unprecedented carnage of today’s reaping. With the next heartbeat came the delivery of the most cruel reminder: the hand reaching for you was Vox’s. Alastor doesn’t care about anything anymore, not even losing territory. 

The TV overlord was covered in thick, red blood and looked vindicated, a wide chesire’s cat grin on his face. Baptized in carnage, Vox had finally triumphed for the V’s.The V’s were now a force to be reckoned with in Hell, there’s no argument to be made.  A good chunk of Alastor’s territory was now under their control, and everything that came with it too. Including you. 

“My darling doe, be careful, we can’t have you hurt after the battle is won can we?” 

Darling doe.

You threw up at the casual cruelty of the name Alastor called you with such affection being desecrated by Vox. He still supported you as you spilled your guts, you’d blame it on the nerves, the adrenaline, the reeking smell of death. Not on the fact that you knew he finally won, that the thing that broke you was to hear your name like that, on your lover archenemy’s lips. After that it happened. You sold your soul to vox. Of course he coerced you into it, and you were so mad with grief and betrayal that you felt like betraying Alastor back was the just thing to do. Pettiness and paradoxical hope dripping from your lips as the whole thing was done. 

Every year this same flashback assaulted your mind as you got ready to meet Vox on the anniversary of your deal. It never went past the look you gave those pixelated eyes as he held you on that barren land, stopping right there when you made the decision that finalized your ruin. You still wouldn’t, couldn't face what really went down when you formalized your deal with Vox. Those memories were suppressed and tucked in under layers and layers of regret and self-hatred. 

You gave yourself a final look in the mirror. No makeup smudging this time, you were getting good at numbing your feelings. Just a few tears, no more sobbing.

The yearly meeting with the V’s after the extermination was the perfect cover actually, everything was done in a way that it seemed like you were all cooperating. After all, you did hold a very good knowledge of the inner workings of Alastor’s deals, subordinates and territory. You knew who the V’s could “call in favours” and how to keep the peace. Or as close to peace as peace came when an abrupt power transition happened in Hell. You were a valuable asset to anyone really. Articulated in politics, masterful at the art of persuasion, kind, soft, charismatic, assertive, all in perfect balance, and frankly, breathtakingly beautiful. It wasn’t without reason that Alastor fell for you and that you became his most trusted advisor. You and Rosie were able to conceal his absence and manage his affairs for good two years and the better part of the third without raising any suspicion. Of course, the bigger they are the harder they fall and now you were walking down the corridor of the V’s building carrying a bulk of important intel that would dictate the fate of the Overlord power structure for the next year, at least. 

The hallways of the building changed a lot since you first walked them. As the V’s grew in power, the building grew in grandeur. It was now an imposing beast, looming over Pentagram City. Modern corporate architecture that incorporated the savage capitalism of Vox Tech. Savage, cold, sterile, overbearing that’s how being inside the lair of Hell’s most up and coming trio felt. The tall ceilings and big glass windows were exactly what you would expect of a broadcasting network and silicon valley Big Tech company combined. As an esteemed guest, you got the privilege of staying in the coveted penthouses, with someone to attend to your every wish and demand. You also got an idea that Vox went a little extra with your treatment as a form of flirtation, he has been trying to convince you into moving in for a while, every time you stayed in, your usual penthouse had some shiny new thing that was  made just for you, as he repeatedly emphasized. 

This year’s token of affection was a makeup mirror-gadget-thingy, that looked out of a Totally Spies episode. You had to admit to yourself that this was way more thoughtful and useful than the gifts from the previous years. The thing was cute, practical and would come in handy, which was a big improvement. Vox had tried to sway you with all types of guns and high tech devices in vain. Well, there was also that embarrassing stance with the wire flowers with a hidden recording device. Needless to say that after that entire debacle Vox learned that he may own your soul but you weren’t a damsel in distress and you would reinforce your side of the bargain if he went too far. 

You reached the elevator and went in, pushing the button for your destination. 

The earlier you start this the earlier it is over, you remind yourself.

The panoramic elevator descended to the well guarded conference room, the guards didn’t bat an eye to you entering. You realized you were becoming a familiar face around here, that made you dread what’s ahead of you even more.

“There she is! Hello princesa, I missed that pretty face!” Valentino greets you. He’s the only one inside, sitting on the edge of the table.  Well, that’s unusual… you think. Vox was always the first to get to the post-extermination meetings, plus he always gave you a slightly early timetable so he could have some alone time with you. Something must be going on.

“Hey Valentino, it’s nice to see you too! What gossip do you have for me today?” you give your best chirpy tone to the love moth. Look, you know how bad Valentino is, he is despicable really, even to your standards. But ethics are fluid, to say the  least, in Hell. The acclaimed porn king was surprisingly engaging to talk to. He was fun and actually treated you like a person, which was paradoxical in itself, considering how infamous he is for exploiting and commodifying souls. You drove yourself mad with theories of possible agendas behind Valentino’s kindness towards you, but it was the simplest of answers really, for some reason Valentino liked you and he never denied himself of what he liked.

“You have no idea! We have a lot to catch up on, did I tell you about that bitch who was trying to spy on us?” a set arms gestures to you to sit down next to him. The next 10 minutes are spent talking frivolities with the moth. You’re not complaining, it's nice to get your mind off this dreadful day and you don’t get many. 

Valentino, as always, has a lot to say, little goes on in Hell without him knowing who, what, where and why. Information, gossip, rumors, facts, if a single out of context word can be weaponized  you better be aware that he knows. Pentagram city can be divided into districts and ruled by lots of different overlords, still, Valentino’s intricate web of influence and coercion stretches across all territories. Another poor soul manifests here and goes somewhere they should not be, talk to someone they should not talk to, discover something they should never know. All cases of “wrong place at the wrong time” are happily solved by a large sum of money from the moth and suddenly another thread is weaved into his web of knowledge, another secret  made his. Valentino doesn’t operate like most Overlords and that’s where his power  lies. He bribed and fucked his way into every major circle, every  overlord’s inner circle, Hell’s best kept secret. If you were anyone in the hellish afterlife Valentino either fucked you or fucked someone very close to you. 

Knowledge is power, and Hell’s gossip girl was proof of it.

You swallowed a lump you didn’t know existed, hearing the moth talk about how things changed in a matter of hours during the early post-war made you even more aware of the severity of the intel you were carrying. It was earth shattering (no pun intended) information. 

Angels can be hurt. Angels can be killed. That meant a completely different way of existing in the afterlife, if this information goes public, the consequences are unpredictable and dire.

You don’t feel excitement knowing you technically can fight back, you feel pure dread.

To be completely honest, you feel like these “news” are not really news. You were pretty acquainted with politics back on Earth and this whole “omg no one knew about this! even though this was staring us right on your faces! is total bullshit. Hell is ancient, the exterminations are not a new thing, and there are some pretty smart people down here. To think that millenia after millenia masters of torture and skilled killers never thought of using heaven’s own firepower against them is wishful thinking at best. Sure, maybe after a few generations most sinners, even those who have power, may have been kept out of the loop about the chick in the holy army’s armor… but not knowing this at all just feels like a pretty convenient case of collective amnesia. 

Convenient, that’s exactly what this is. It’s brutal, but that’s Hell. A scheduled massacre is a blessing to those who rule to maintain, reinforce and extend their power. And if you get lucky enough, empires will fall and you will make your move. 

Vini Vidi Vici, that’s all you need to know about how Hell's politics work. 

It’s true that with every massacre the Angel Army gets more and more brutal and unhinged. What was once justified as righteous mercy killings to stabilize the ever growing hellish population now is just a display of cruelty, these angels kill for sport. There have been rumors floating around of how the disproportional annihilation tactics are preparation for something bigger for a while now , and with the demonic royal families either operating totally off Pride Ring or being completely MIA, it is no wonder those influential enough are starting to get restless. 

And that ties back to your first point, the thing that got you picking the skin around your nails while Valentino gossips. There’s a reason why this is being revealed now, you know how creating a narrative works, a few smart words and ideas become beasts of its own. A beast of its own that will tear anything on its way with the right fuel. The V’s have fuel to spare. Whose interest is that this information stayed hidden? Whose interest is that this information was allowed to be shared now? 

Hell is constructed by layers and layers of complicated militias and parallel governance, each one a locked room of secrecy that is impossible to enter without a huge amount of connections and power. 

“In a world of locked rooms, the man with the key is king. And, honey, you should see me in a crown” Valentino wisely said to you once. He’s a man of many many keys, and right now you are holding the fucking master key under your arm. 

Speaking of Valentino, he notices that you dozed off and snaps his fingers, grounding you back to reality. 

“My, my. You must have extremely sensitive information today to keep you from hearing the nastiest, hottest gossip of the moment babe” He takes a hit from his cigarette, an elegant and sensual move straight from an Old Hollywood film. The heart shaped smoke rings caress your face and for an instant you feel hypnotized, nodding your head profusely. 

“But I already knew that” behind the rose coloured shades, you see a playful wink from his infamous red hot eyes. 

The porn overlord quickly snaps his head towards the huge automatic doors, that open and reveal Vox and Velvette walking side by side exchanging looks between them that scream conspiracy.

“Sorry about the wait, my darling” Vox purrs on your way, stopping behind your chair and placing his hands on top of it, fingers dangerously close to your neck and shoulder. He pushes your hair to the side and lingers there, on your neck. “but as they say ain’t no rest for the wicked, am I right?” Velvette takes her seat beside Vox’s empty chair, meticulously placed in front of you, polite pleasantries leaving her mouth. She’s still a mystery, you never know her true stance on you, she keeps you on your toes. Does she like you? Does she hate you? Does she even care? 

“If you say so, boss!” you give him your best pageant smile. “So, who’s climbing up the ladder of the food chain today?” You bat your eyelashes at him. Your performance begins.

“Aw baby, you know I love when you call me boss! keep talking dirty to me” Vox lands a wet kiss on your cheek and makes his way to his chair.

 Right in front of you, so he’s always staring at you, drinking in your every move. You cannot fail, you cannot falter. 

As much as you’ve gotten used to pretending, pretending you like the V’s, pretending you don’t feel disgusting inside for being here, pretending you don’t hate Alastor for putting you in this situation with a burning passion but still missing him so much you feel someday your heart will stop beating in protest to him absence, it’s still hard. Especially when Vox touches you. Your eyes focus on cybersharks swimming behind Vox’s seat and concentrate on keeping your awarding winning poker face. 

“This year looks really promising I will tell you that! The orders for both your weapons and tragedy porn cameras doubled since the last extermination! I will give credit where credit is due, that fuckboy Adam knows how to put on a show!” he snaps his fingers graphs, stats and footage appears on the various screens. But it’s all irrelevant, it won’t matter when you spill your secret. 

“Lot’s of veeeery interesting happenings but I thought this year we might… start differently. Let’s forget the profit talk for now, change things a little. Did you guys see anything out of the ordinary? Did something stand out?!” he spins around his Big Boss ™ chair and stops with his hand under his chin, leaning in to you like a schoolgirl with the hottest new gossip. 

“Oh! I heard things -” Val also leans in getting closer to the TV overlord face. 

Vox’s grin shrinks, lifting a finger in protest 

“We know, we know, you always hear things Val” he replies in a monotone tone

Velvette, who spent this entire time typing away on her phone, interjects 

“Look, don’t take this the wrong way girlypop” finally looking at you she asks, or rather, states the million dollar question “ but what Vox means is that we know you have something  big cooking inside those files, so let’s drop the bullshit and go straight to it” 

The doll puts her phone down, she knows how important this is, how this secret will probably dictate how things will go from now on. You can call Velvette many things, but she is clever and under all that attitude and posh accent lies a brilliant strategist. 

“Plus, we all know you are contractually obligated to tell anyway, so spill, and can make this quick and painless to everyone involved” 

Right, your cartesian, empirical proof that angels can be killed.  Caught on the scene of the crime with the gun in your hands. 

You don’t waste anymore time, the words leave your lips like you’re choking with the threat they present. You tell them everything: where the exorcist was killed, how he was killed, the golden ichor blood that oozed from the wound, where the body was hidden. Everyone is silent while you speak, even the mechanical sharks seem to have stopped swimming to listen. 

After that you don’t remember much more of the meeting, it felt like you took the backseat of your own mind, the overwhelming feeling of dread making you so out of breath. Something is coming, something fucking coming and you can’t breathe. Anxiety sets under your skin like a second skeleton begging to crawl its way out and you find yourself sitting in one of the lavish anterooms of the V’s building. 

“So, the cat’s out of the bag then” you recall hearing Vox saying when, as if on cue, a few moments before the meeting was being declared over, the emergency broadcast about the reduction of the extermination date from a year to six months was issued. You four watch the transmission and you wonder if that’s what it feels like to get the news of the end of the Cold War, the doomsday clock finally hits midnight and we are nuking each other out. 

Mutual destruction assured. 

Your mind wanders back to your life on earth, if life up there is better or worse these days. You died so young, everybody told you, your Untimely Demise a big topic of conversation that you yourself didn’t know much about. But nothing, nothing in all of your living years and your years from Hell to eternity could prepare you for what comes next.

“So the Radio Demon is back in town! Why is he hanging around? What does it mean for your family?” 

The news hit your ears like a tsunami and you feel dizzy. It’s easy to find a big screen here and you are running to the closest one before your brain can even compute the words. 

Alastor is back, Alastor is back, and he didn’t come find you.

The next sound wave is even worse, dragging you ashore to your feelings without any reprieve. 

“Salutations!

Good to be back on the air! Yes, I know it's been a while, since someone with style treated hell to a broadcast

Sinners, rejoice!”

This isn’t a prank, there are no cameras and a sadistic tv host waiting for your humiliating reaction, instead all pairs of eyes in Hell are glued to the screen watching as the two Overlords fight it out. 

Thus, no one notices how your entire body shakes and your vision goes black. It’s too much, and you grip the rails from the stairs that lead to the foyer for dear life. Your heart is beating out of your chest. No one notices how you cry, how you whimper Alastor’s name like a prayer, how the tears run down your face and you feel paralyzed. You want to run, a million thoughts per heartbeat making your head swim. The best you can do is collapse on the floor. So you do, you collapse trying to catch your breath as you plan your sweet escape, how you are going to Houdini yourself out of this situation right to his arms.

“Tune on in

 when I'm done, your status quo will know its race is run”

You want to kiss him, you want to slap him, you want to tell him how much you missed him, you much your fucking hate him. You want him to drag you to his rooms and make you pay for cursing him out. You want him, you want your Alastor back. You cannot breathe.

“Oh, this will be fun.”

and then all the lights go out.

There’s a beginning of an uproar happening, the electric building dies a quick and unforgiving death, demons run around and Vox is flying down the stairs trying to do damage control. But even he is failing to keep his composure, because he knows. Oh how you know too. 

Alastor is like a natural disaster, a shattering force that bends everything on its way with the sheer force of will. The inevitable reckoning that comes to your town, that judges and executes everyone that you love. 

And now he is here. 

You see the burning red hot pair of eyes first, their predatory gaze hold the entire room hostage, looking for his prey and then they land on you. 

The piercing intensity of Alastor’s eyes, the flickering reds of damnation itself, regard you with surprise, elation and something more. So overbearing those eyes are, they make you shiver, bearing the weight of his gaze that penetrates deep into your soul. Your soul that is not yours anymore, it belongs to the man he hates, the man he despises. 

The Radio Demon’s towering frame closes the distance between you two in five long strides, you do your best to keep yourself upright and not cower at the sight of him. He looks like Rapture and righteous torture, coming to deliver your setance. Vox knows his sentence is being delivered here and now too, so he runs, runs to you.  You feel static and an electrifying pull, metal clinking. A chain. A glowing blue chain on your neck and Vox’s pulling it tight.

“What? what the fuck is going on? what’s this?” snapping your neck quickly towards Vox you whimper, you beg. The few seconds you stopped looking into Alastor’s eyes causing seething rage inside the deer demon, ire that makes the room tremble. 

‘“Talk over the radio, that way everyone can hear, baby” Vox says straight at Alastor, like it is a shooting gun. The look on the TV Overlord is maniac, a sideway cocky smile that drips pettiness. Just because Vox clearly lost this battle, with all tvs and electricity on petagram city going dark, it doesn’t mean he can’t still forever tarnish this victory. 

Alastor’s demonform covers the already dark building in opaque, thick shadows, radio static picks up around the room like a tornado chocking the majority of the unfortunate demons that are still inside, in a desperate attempt to seek shelter. 

No words leave the radio host’s lips as he grows even taller, breaking the posh entrance of the building, debris flying down causing even more damage, the tall glass windows shatter in a million pieces courtesy of his tentacles tearing down everything on their way. The sounds of destruction and despair are loud but you haven’t been listening to the world outside you and your returned lover’s radio dial eye’s for a while. A doe caught in the headlight of his eyes the best you can do in brace for the inevitable impact that is coming your way.

In a flash of his scarlet eyes a fire ignites, the flames born from it are unnatural, behaving like a hive mind to kill and destroy.

 You always knew that facing Alastor after these 7 years would not be easy, but you never imagine your reunion like this, in the midst  of pomppeian fire, a wild raw power, the oncoming storm that is Alastor when he attacks. 

Vox knows this fight is over, his ego hurt and today’s accounts always written as a victorious comeback from the Radio Demon, nevertheless, between the three of you Vox will always know who really won, who drew the last card, had the last laugh. He did, holding Alastor’s girl on a leash because he owns her. The soul of the woman the Radio Demon dared to love is his, the man Alastor despises with a burning passion, and that’s enough for now. 

The raging flames circle the three of you and without much more flair Vox drops his act, your chain disappearing from your neck. You drop to the floor, branching yourself on all fours. You consider crawling your way to Alastor, so you can explain, so you can cry, so you can beg. You don’t know for what exactly you will be begging for: your life? his forgiveness? his punishment? you just know a lot of begging and pleading will be involved. 

But the decision is made for you.

“Run, run my little darling doe” Vox commands “Run and do whatever you need to do” 

You get up on your feet in a completely ungracious move and Alastor’s out of the room instantly. The flames never touch you on the way out, the outside world greets you: a cacophony of screams, sirens, burning sounds, the infernal orchestra that becomes the soundtrack of your life.  

“Oh, and by the way” Vox screams from the threshold of the decaying building “we just got news that your place on Cannibal Town got trashed by some wayward sinners during extermination. But don’t worry you can always come home here, come home to me!”

You do your best to ignore his taunting, and you pray to whoever is listening that Alastor didn’t hear it. But it’s futile, the pavement where he is stepping cracks a dark cloud of static and shadows trail after him. He definitely heard and felt the implications of these words. 

“Al.. Al!” you scream running after your lover. 

Fuck, you’re still in heels, and those aren’t your running heels.

Kicking the damned shoes off you run faster, you cry harder and plead faster.

When you lived, your life always felt a bit surreal, weird stuff happened to you that you couldn’t really explain. People always joked that screenwriters of your life were the most creative people alive, the thing that happened to you never happened to anyone else. You died young, with a big, full life ahead of you, but you took this as gospel to your afterlife, after all everything related to your death was a mystery to you. But the things that happened to you living or dead were a raw reality impossible to make up.

 The uncertainty of your death only fuels your resolve to fight for the life you found in the afterworld. 

“Al, wait!” you are starting to get truly desperate, you need to get to him otherwise you are pretty certain you will drop dead here and now.

 “Alastor please, please listen to me” your voice failing, you finally choking from the smoke, from the suppressed tears. If Alastor doesn’t hear you now you are not sure you can carry on after him, you’re too tired too scared. You him to save you like the damsel in distress you are right now so bad.

Alastor dramatically comes to a halt. 

“I. am. Not. Having. This. Conversation. Here.”  his voice is staggered, still. Filled with static and a murderous edge to it. His long arms catch your wrist and pull you close, flush against his chest, you almost stumble but a powerful arm around your waist locks you tight to him. 

It’s the first touch in seven years, your legs shake at the realization that he’s real, he’s here. You lock your arms around his neck, the familiar fabric of his overcoat, the soft strands of his hair, they all feel like coming home.  

Something inside Alastor snaps when he remembers, when he feels how small you are in comparison to him, only one arm securing you safely to him. Some paradoxical fight starts inside him, wild wild want, wild wild rage against tameness, the docile calm you bring whenever you are at his side. 

The world disappears for a few seconds as darkness engulfs both of you,  inside the black moving vacuum only the two of you exist, greeting each other in bloody homecoming. 

Alastor takes you back to the Hotel, landing with a low thump inside his room. For a second his hand supports the small of your back, preventing you from falling forward. After all it’s been 7 years since you shadowtravelled with him, he knows you are terribly out of practice. 

His consideration towards you only lasts this precious second thought, because he makes his way across the room, creating as much distance as he can between the two of you. Your touch disarms him, he is aware of that since the first time your hand brushed against his, the first time his lips ghosted on top of your knuckles. If Alastor is touching you he is extremely likely to get soft, to remember how much you mean to him, what you do to him, so he will be merciful. And right now the last thing the deer demon wants is to be disarmed, to show you mercy. He can feel your betrayal burning inside his veins, clouding his judgment with ire and jealousy.

Alastor doesn’t fight those feelings, on the contrary, he lets them take him by storm adding fuel to his already bad temper. That’s the only way he can face you now, that’s the only way he can make you understand. 

You don’t get any time to gather your bearings, from the corner of your eye you notice a forest. His room is bigger on the inside and has a fucking conservation area but that’s hardly the most pressing matter at the moment. The pressing matter at the moment is that you are getting whiplash from touching your demon lover for the first time in seven years and his subsequent refusal to touch you, stationing himself across the room to you.

Why isn’t he with you? by your side as you ride the shockwaves of today together? You are scared, but above all you feel overwhelming sadness. 

“How did it happen?” he finally snaps, breaking the deafening silence. It’s the first time Alastor regards you, directly, in 7 years and the weight his words bare is so heavy you wish for more of the silence. “Tell me, how did it happen?” his eyes are wild, dangerously close to radio dials. 

“How did it happen? You tell me Alastor! You left me, you fucking left me!” you wish you could be your usually articulated self, you rehearsed this conversation so many times in your mind and in none of them you started with such venom on your lips. But it has been too long, and maybe the poison from all those years alone and afraid beside Vox drips through. 

The Radio Demon sees the tears that fall profusely from your big doe eyes, and they sting more than an acclaimed torturer like him could have anticipated. Alastor finds himself still disarmed, because with every single glistening tear that falls he can see how hurt, how scared you are. He is the only one allowed to make you scared, he owns your fear.

But that’s the problem isn’t it? He owns nothing. Vox does. And that realization turns him back to feeling seething rage. 

“So my mere absence is enough to change your devotion? Is me being here the only thing that stopped you from falling into his arms?” more poison. By the end of the night you both will choke on it. 

“Al.. Al” you are sobbing now, your throat tightens and it’s hard to breath it’s hard to speak. “ I had to do it. You don’t get it, you don’t get it.” your voice breaks “hemademedoit, hemademedoit!!”. You swallow half the words, whimpering, as if you say it fast enough the action will quickly become the past, as if the memories won’t haunt you. And yet the memories flood your mind

A dim-lit room, the smell of blood and something burning.

“He is gone baby, and he isn’t coming back”

Electricity makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. 

A stranger’s hand pushes the hair to the side of your face, dread creeps up inside of you.

“This is the only way my dear, the best decision you can make” 

The same stranger’s hand grab you by the waist 

“I’m the only one who can protect you now, you know that right?”

eyes that make you freeze, it’s hard to think. eyes that make it hard to say no.

“If this is hard for you, you can pretend that I’m him” 

a wrong type of static pricks your lips 

“This won’t hurt” 

a shockwave hits your body and it feels like you are being split open

You have to steady yourself on the closest piece of furniture. You cower as the repressed memories from the night you finally gave in to Vox assault your mind, trying to make yourself as small as possible, like he is coming back to do it all again. Cries and incoherent words leave your lips and you don’t know if you actually said what happened or if this entire time you have just been crying. You entire body hurts as you hyperventilate “Al, I’m so sorry” you whisper 

That’s what undoes Alastor, you curling yourself in a ball, defeated and scared at the ghost of the man he hates. You looking away from him like you are undeserving of him, of his punishment, of his love. Like you are tainted. Alastor can’t make the exact words of your confession about how it happened, but he heard enough. Vox would never make you come to him willingly, Alastor knows that. Whatever Vox did - and Alastor has a lot of ideas of what he did - he will pay double for it. 

 Alastor’s blackened heart shatters when he calls your name and you don’t look up to meet his eyes, like you always do. He was always your lantern for when you were drowning. He meant to break you, hurt you like that. He just wanted to make you come to him, beg for his forgiveness, beg him to soothe the pain. 

“Mon coeur, my sweet darling doe you are safe” Alastor voice goes so soft it hurts “Don’t fret, it’s in the past, it’s over, you are safe with me now as you are meant to be” he coos.

Still, you can’t read your lover’s mind. So you don’t know his heart is shattered, you don’t know how much he loathes himself for letting this get this far. You are so caught up on your own feelings, reeling the rage and the memories that you miss the softness of his voice and his outstretched hard and you inevitably choke on the poison. 

“No. No!” you snap “You don’t get to say that. You have no right to say that!” you scream as you get up “I’m not safe, I will never be safe because you weren’t there to protect me, you promised Alastor, you fucking promised” the poison is now inside you, heartstopping waves of hurt consume your body and sprit. Right now the same burning passion that makes you heart beat for Alastor makes you hate him too. You were never good with ugly feelings, you always pride yourself for being soft to be strong. Your kindness and act of rebellion during the hellish reality you lived. You were never good with bad feelings, so you do something you never thought you’d do.

You shove the Radio Demon, that man you love so much it drives you to insanity. You shove him because the shame is too much, all the ugly feelings ball up inside, convincing you that you don’t deserve him, that you already lost him. And you won’t survive his dismissal. 

You never talked back to him, you never raised your voice. Not because you were afraid to, but because you never had to, hence the reason why Alastor is so taken aback that your pitiful attempt of violence actually moves him from where he was standing. 

Alastor shoves you back, pushing you up against the wall with a searing kiss. He kisses you like you are his last chance at salvation, like he wants to be redeemed. He licks your lips as you struggle to catch your breath, pushing his hips hard against your core, making you straddle him. Alastor doesn’t grant you a moment of reprieve, his lips come crashing down on yours again, his tongue inside your mouth dancing to a madman’s tune. He does what he does best, he takes and takes and takes. He takes your breath away, he takes all the callous words that threaten to leave your lips, aimed at him. 

You succumb to your demon lover, your nails dig into his skin and he moans inside your mouth, he bites your lips enough to draw blood. In the end Alastor is still Alastor, and of course he gets all hot and bothered when fighting. You feel delirious with the taste of his lips, your blood and your salty tears mixing together, an unholy ambrosia. His hardness press just the right way to make you sing creating a current of desire after a seven year long drought. 

His hands are quick, ridding up your shirt making he grab your ass and then your hips, strong enough to bruise. His clawed finger is already tweaking your nipple that way he knows you love. Your bravado melts, in perfect synchrony to when he sinks his teeth deep into your neck, drinking everything: that wretched poison that tarnished your words, the sacred warmth of your blood. You moan his name like a prayer that he promptly answers, he’s kissing you like a drowning man again, your blood on his lips painting your lips red like you both just drank from the holy grail, his hand cups your other breast and you vow to never speak to him like that again, only if it’s gonna get you up against the wall like that with him. 

And then he stops. 

“I hope this kiss haunts you” he says, voice still drunk with desire, low and threatening. He swiftly moves you off him, walking away and creating the same distance from when this all started “haunts your every breath, finds its way inside your every waking moment until you are mad with regret” 

You are bewildered, eyes widening in disbelief. What is he doing? How can he go from 0 to a 100 so fast? 

“I hope this kiss haunts you, so you never forget that you were the only woman who ever had me at the palm of her hand and you decided to throw it all away with that calamitous cynicism of yours.” 

So that’s what’s happening. You can never expect to beat a master at his own game, Alastor is still cruel when he is merciful. When push comes to shove he will always win. There’s only so far you can get with taunting his repentance,  playing with his heart laid bare at your feet, filled with sorrow and begging for forgiveness. He was ready to apologize, to dry your tears and soothe your fears, worshiping your delicious body and the ground you walked on. He was ready to admit that this was half his fault until your venom stung him beyond the realm of spoken word. 

“I understand it now, it must be hard for you to cope with your own decisions, your own failings, so you take it all on me. I hope you remember this when you come back to beg, on your knees for my forgiveness. And trust me, you will.” Of course Alastor would torture you with the knowlodge of his guilt and despair, the loss of his benevolence, the promise of desire and carnality. He will always be a torturer at heart, and you forgot that’s the first rule you need to always remember when dealing with him. 

“You’ve got your demons darling” never was your precious pet name said with such disdain. Static starts to gather around you, and in a flash his hand is on your neck

“and they all, Look. Like. Me” his voice is distorted when he finishes cursing you, there’s a tempest behind his eyes that entraps you, the burning red of his irises condemn you. 

The Radio demon is a raging fire, an oncoming storm. But he is also meticulous, cruel and calculating, if you dared to question him, to step on the grace he gladly gave you, you clearly were aware of everything he did to lull his absence. All the plans and contingencies he made to hush your worrying thoughts about him and bathe your threshing heart on tranquiline waters.

And you decided to mock it. To mock him and his love for you. 

You are crying again, but this time Alastor is fucking glad he was the one to hurt you, to reduce you to a mess of regret and tears. 

Tonight in Hell, power shifts from one Overlord to another. Sinners plan and freak out accordingly.

 But their machinations are all meaningless. 

The 7 years you spent away from Alastor made you sad, the three years spent on Vox’s side made you bitter. The V’s operate on poison, it’s their fuel. And maybe the poison drips through.

Tonight you drank the poison and it broke you.

Tonight, for the first time, the poison broke Alastor too.

[hhonghu]

(Reader is immortal)

I can imagine Scara being embarrassed of his past sex obsessed self, Kabukimono, he claims that he is so much better than that now, and much more mature, that is what he tells his subordinates. He is such a liar.

If only his subordinates knew that Scara still begs for your cock almost everyday.

If only his subordinates knew that he jerks himself off at the thought of you, and owns various dildos that he always imagines are you.

If only his subordinates knew just how much of a cock slut their leader was before and how he is a bigger slut now.

If only his subordinates knew that he moans and cries like a cheap whore when you fuck him with just the tip of your cock.

If only his subordinates knew just how crazy he gets when he sees the bulge on his stomach that is formed by your cock and begs for more.

Moral of the story, is that Scara is a slut. He was before, and he still is now.

[Thirst]!

anon you are heavensent !! adsfkjhkjgh my brain can't handle this so i sprinkled a bit of angst teehee >:)

let's say that reader thought they lost kabukimono, stumbles upon scaramouche who was on a mission. you didn't hold back, you cried for him, running and embracing him, twirling him around in your arms in happiness as you tell him that you missed him, that you've been wandering the entirety of teyvat in search of him. as you were lost in your feelings, scaramouche was at awe. you kept looking for him? even if he left you for your own good? and here you are, embracing as you've now found him, out of all times. he was happy really! but this wasn't the right time! he planned to reach godhood then find you, to finally reunite with you once again once he's stronger, better.

while all this was going on, his subordinates stare in shock as some random person just shouted out in happiness and hugged their lord? does this fool not know what the hell they're doing? they know so much as glancing the wrong at scaramouche would send them early to their graves, so the absolute horror seeing being so casual and intimate with scaramouche was amusing. scara snapped out of his trance, immediate trying to pull away from you. you notice and frown, "darling? is there something—", "shhhh! be quiet for a bit!" he slaps his hand over your mouth and glare over his shoulder, eyes deadly glaring at his subordinates. "well? what are you waiting for? get back to work! if a word about this gets out, you'll never hear the end of it." they all scramble away, already fearing for their lives. after he's sure everyone has left, he turns back to you and finally hugs you back. he missed you so much.. your face, you kisses, you touch.. he misses them all and he is just as overjoyed as you are.

although, you were confused. what happened to your kabukimono? why did he shout out to those soldiers? spat out such cruel words? you let him go and set him down, about to ask him what happened to him before he grabs your hand and drags you to his private quarters, saying that you two can talk there. he knows you already had questions and he was nervous but he hoped you'd understand. after you two settled down next to one another, you began to ask him questions; where has he been? why did he leave you so suddenly? and why did he act so differently, so mean? "kabukimono, you've changed." you cupped his cheek, worry in your features. he melts to your touch and takes a deep breath, answering your questions. he explains to you his plans to obtain a gnosis and reach godhood, he explained once he became a god, he'll find you, so both of you can be together. he told you how he felt weak and that the betrayals he's experienced made a fire of helplessness burn inside him, he hated it.

"[name], i am no longer kabukimono. i have long dispose of this identity of weakness. i am now scaramouche, the sixth of the fatui harbingers."

to say you were devastated was an understatement, you were completely shattered. your kabukimono was gone? the boy you love was now a different person, discarded his entirety just like that. scaramouche sees the sadness that lingered in your face, he knew what you felt. you sweet, caring, naïve kabukimono was gone and you tried to wrap your head around it. were you not good enough? had you done something to have him utterly leave you alone with the memories you shared? had you not tried to protect and strengthen him in this cruel world?

"so.. this whole time of me wandering every nation in search of you no— kabukimono, was all for naught?" oh, how the feeling in his chest felt crushed when you said those words. silence falls for a moment, none of you talking as the situation comes crashing down. "i have changed for the better, [name]. i am no longer the weak, naïve,—" his face flushes, "sex obsessed boy you once knew.. i swore that human needs won't get in the way of my plans..", "if the sex was overwhelming you, you could've told me.." you muttered in response, "i can't tell you what you can't and can do, tell you what you should do or shouldn't do.. but, you can't just have left me like that, you know? when i found out you were, i waited. hours turn in to days, days turn in to months, months turn in to years. i caved in to emptiness. you were all and everything to me and hurt me that you were gone from my life just like that."

tears were flowing down your face and and caress his cheek, knowing that this will be the last time you'll see him. "then.. i won't get in your way. i understand on what your goal is and why you changed.. so.. i believe this will be the last time we'll ever be together." he felt fear go through his body, last time? "[n-name], you misunderstand—" you can't go, he can't let you go. he didn't think this through, he thought disposing of himself as kabukimono and becoming the balladeer, scaramouche, will free him of shackles human emotion. but why is it he can't let you go?

you get up and stand in front of him before he grabs your clothes as if trying to stop you from leaving. "i must go.. my journey to find my lover has come to an end, as he is no longer here. i apologize for disturbing you." he cries out and shakes his head, don't treat him this way! he wraps his arms around your neck and pulls you close, refusing to let you go. he begins to sob into you clothes, "nonono, [name], you can't leave! i—" he swallows the lump in his throat. "i am afraid of becoming kabukimono again.. i don't want to be weak, i don't want to entangle you living a life of eternity with someone who cannot handle himself. if i become weak, then i'll crumble.."

you hug him tighter and comfort him as he cries out to you, hands roaming all over you as if you'll disappear if he lets go. "please.. stay with me.." he cups your cheek and kiss you, "if you stay.. i'll be kabukimono once again, just for you.. so please, don't go."

you ended up staying, even you can't leave him even if you say so. scaramouche ended up having to make up a story so that you'll be able to stay by his side. he told his subordinates that you were his right hand and they were to follow your orders or they were as good as dead. of course, you struggled at first doing pretending (you were a crafter, tf do you do carrying out orders a bunch of fatuis?) but after time, you began to get used to it as you were treated just as supreme as scaramouche.

remember when scaramouche said he's changed? in front of the fatui, you both were just lord and his right hand. but behind closed says otherwise.

so imagine your surprise when he can't get his hands off of you, pawing and whining for you. once his subordinates has left the room after a meeting, he jumps on you, mumbling how he needs something from you and how he needs it now. he unbuckles your pants, drooling down at your already hard cock. "someone seems desperate, huh?" he huffs, lapping up down you shaft. "you can't keep this away from me, [name], that's just mean."

you would be sent away for missions (much to both of your dismay) and he would be left absolutely frustrated without you. you only let him get a taste of your cock in his mouth and never cum inside, always finishing off on his face (you're petty like that lol) and even if he lets you, you know he is displeased because of the way his nails dig down your thighs. while he works, he thinks of you and your cock. he would rub his thighs together to try and get some relief to no avail. he would stomp his way to his private quarters that he shares with you (his subordinates averts their eyes whenever you come out of his room instead of your own) and toss himself to the bed, grabbing a pillow that was yours and bury his face in it, inhaling your scent. damn you and the godforsaken mission you were doing, he shouldn't have sent you away so he could've had you in his bed instead, fucking him into oblivion.

he undresses and grabs a box under the bed and digs out a dildo closest to your size, he just can't take it anymore! he begged your cock to be inside him before you left, saying how he missed it but instead just used his mouth, teasing him how he said he was a changed man and that sex without you shouldn't bother him (it does). he laps the dildo up, coating it in his saliva and shoving it into his mouth while he teases his hole with his fingers. lewd noises echo in his room as toys with himself, wishing it was you who was doing it. he then shoves the dildo inside him, squealing at the sensation before thrusting it in and out in a fast pace, his impatience getting the better of him. he needs to cum.

"hgnnngh—fhuck! [name], [name]♡! fuck me, please— nghh, haa♡! harder!", "yesyes— fhuuuuck! yes, right there♡! " no matter how the dildo hits his prostate, no matter how fast and hard he shoves it deep inside him, he can't cum without you.

and when you came back? oh, you were in it for a ride. literally.

he drags you back into your shared bedroom, kissing you roughly and almost tearing off your clothes and his. he pushes you the bed and straddles you, lustful eyes eying your body as you grab his hips and grind him down on your cock making him moan. "[naaame].. you'll fuck me, right? just how i like it? you'll fuck my hole nice and deep, right?", he drags his hands across his chest, tempting you as he flicks and pinches his nipples. "hmm, i don't know, scara." you tease. he whines, eyes glaring at you with a pout on his lips, don't call him that! "mind you, you've changed." you grab your cock and align it with his hole, teasing it. he tries to grind back down on you, to fully put in your dick inside him but you stop him, you grip on his hip tightening. "don't." you rock your his back and forth, only letting your tip inside him and he sobs, wiggling his hips to try to get you fully inside him. "[name] unghh—! don't.. don't tease! please put it inside! i need your dick in me, please!"

was fucking his hole finally after years of waiting worth it? every second of it. skin slapping and scara's moans reverberates in the room, your hips plunging back and forth in his ass. "don't stop— fhuuuck! fuck! don't stop♡!", "your cock hgnnnh— fhuck! it's all the way in my stomach♡! moremoremore♡!" you can feel him clench around you as you fasten his pace, knowing his orgasm is fast approaching. you're making him see stars, his back arching as your cock his prostate continuously. "make me cum, please, unghh— make me cum! i want to cum♡!", "go on ahead, kabukimono. go ahead and cum like the slut you are." and his body shakes uncontrollably, his orgasm overwhelming him as his dick spurts out cum. he cries out, your thrusts unrelenting and not stopping, his nails scratching you back and legs wrapping around your waist. "ooooohhhh— yes♡! i'm your slut, [name]! fuck me like one, fuck your slut, [name]♡!".

such a fucking slut.

guys i lied why is the angst longer lol JDFKASDGH keep ya'll thirsts coming everyone i'm drooling at your brains <33

[valley-of-headcanons]

I have a request because I’m curious. I’d love to see your headcannons on the bachelors finding out that their lovely farmer that they adore was previously in an abusive relationship and that why they really fled the city. Maybe a little added bonus on how they’d react bumping into said person 

bachelors with an abused partner || headcanons

your past isn't something to be ashamed of, and these lovely bachelors make you feel right at home <3

warnings: heavy topics today! abusive relationship mentions + interactions with the abuser. farmer is triggered by their partner's actions (yelling, joking shove, etc.), resulting in a panic attack. comfort fic :)

requested by: anon! hi, thank you so much for the request! i love comfort fics, so i hope that this provides you comfort as well! if anyone reading is going through this situation, please reach out to the people around you and get tf out, no one deserves such a thing :( anyway! hope you enjoy <3

alex

• When the time came around to tell Alex about your past relationships, you made sure to sit him down. You wanted him to truly understand how serious this was. So, you started to explain everything, detail for detail ... this led to a lot of emotions being brought back. Of course, you were emotional, but Alex seemed even more emotional.

• Alex was pissed. He was livid about how that person treated you. How dare someone even go that far? You're such a lovely person, he just cannot wrap his head around it ... but eventually, he realizes that he needs to put his emotions aside so that he can show you the love you need right now. He wraps stands and wraps his arms around you, kissing your cheek.

• “You're gonna be okay ... I'm gonna keep you safe, not matter what, 'kay? You're not gonna be in any of those situations, none of those words will ever be said in your direction as long as I'm around. Want to go lay down? You look like you're about to fall out ...” he says in the softest voice he can.

• Alex would try his best to respect your triggers as much as he can, but everyone makes mistakes sometimes. When in a simple disagreement, he ends up raising his voice. This sends shivers down your spine. When he notices you start to shake, tears pricking your eyes, he stops what he's doing immediately. It might take him a moment to realize, but he doesn't want to put you in harm's way what-so-ever.

• “Hey, hey, hey, I'm sorry ... listen, I'm not them. I promise you, I'm not him. I didn't mean to raise my voice, and I promise it's not that serious ... I'm not gonna hurt you. I wouldn't do anything on purpose ... you're safe here, I promise. We're just tired and wiped out. We need rest, and we'll bring all this up again later, yeah? Okay ... I love you.”

• If you two were to run into your abuser, Alex would immediately come to your aid. He would block you from the abuser's view, trying his hardest to protect you. He would hold a conversation with you, attempting to keep your mind off of the triggering presence. Eventually, if you need to get out of there, he takes you by the hand and leads you away. He makes sure to keep an eye out for everything that could possibly hurt you, and he does a fantastic job at it.

elliott

• When the time came to tell Elliott about your past relationships, you tried to warn him that this is going to be a heavy topic. After seeing your demeanor change, he started to worry. He inquired more, to which you provided. You explained every detail that you could, which was definitely emotional. But Elliott ... his emotions were written all over his face. God, he was devastated.

• Elliott looked absolutely defeated. He couldn't fathom how anyone could hurt you in such a harsh way. All he wanted to do was protect you with every bit of himself, but he walked into your life a bit too late. So, he needed to do what he could now that he was here. He kneeled down in front of you, taking your hands in his. He pressed a soft kiss onto your knuckles.

• “Love ... I don't know what to say. I have been rendered speechless by an idiotic hoodlum who has forsaken you. You will never be hurt again in my care, and I will promise you that. Live your life with no worry, and I will be at your side. Let me accompany, protect, and adore every aspect of you. You will be okay, my dearest, and I love you.”

• Eliott would rather die than make you uncomfortable. He tried his hardest to avoid any triggers, respect your boundaries, and love you with as much caution as he needed to. However, he accidentally messed up once. He said a phrase that was triggering to you, but he didn't know. You hadn't mentioned it, you had actually blocked that out. But when he said it, memories came flooding back, causing you to have a panic attack. He immediately came to your side, attempting to calm you down as you stuttered out your explanation.

• “My dearest, I am so very sorry. I didn't realize that would upset you. I promise, whatever intention that was used back then is not mine. I apologize as deeply as I can, and I vow to make it up to you. What can I do? ... let's go take a walk, okay? That way we can get our minds off of things. The beach would be a nice place, the sound of the waves can drown out the horrible memories. Is that okay with you? ... then let's go, my love.”

• If you two were to run into your abuser, Elliott would immediately wrap a protective arm around you. He would carry on, keeping an eye on both you and the abuser. If they were to approach you two, he would say something out of character, insulting the deepest darkest parts of their soul. Words that would never leave Elliott's mouth would fly out on this rare occasion. He would then take you home and make you some tea, calming you down as much as he could. He would make you feel as safe as he could.

harvey

• When the time came to tell Harvey about your past relationships, he could read the anxiety on face. It was fairly evident. So, he rested his hand on your back as you began to speak. As you opened up about all of the details you could think of, he softly rubbed your back. It was comforting, but not enough to keep you from being emotional. Harvey tried to keep a calm demeanor the whole time, acting as a stable rock for you.

• He tried to keep you calm by rubbing your back. After realizing this wasn't working, he pulled you into his arms carefully. He was more worried about keeping you calm and happy now, and he wanted to help you cope with everything later on down the line. What happened, happened. He has accepted that. It's a horrendous thing, but with the amount of people he's seen in his office, it happens. So, he focused as much as he could on making you feel better.

• “I'm so sorry, sweetheart. Thank you for sharing all of this with me, I'll certainly keep it in mind. What can I do moving forward that can help you? As your boyfriend, I will try my hardest to keep you safe and sound. I promise. I ... I am baffled that someone could do such a thing to you. You're safe now, sweetheart.”

• Harvey does his best to avoid triggering topics. He does mental gymnastics around these topics, and he sincerely tries his best. But, when you catch him humming a song that your abuser would hum ... you couldn't help but have a panic attack. Of course, after he figured out what was wrong, he would immediately stop and help.

• “Please love, take deep breaths. In ... hold ... out ... keep repeating that for me, alright sweetheart? Okay ... I'm so sorry, I didn't realize. I will keep this in mind from now on, but please tell me what else I can do. I know you forgot and that's not your fault. Keep taking those deep breaths for me ... you're doing okay, I promise. Nothing's going to hurt you here.”

• If you two were to run into your abuser, Harvey would sweep you away as soon as possible. If he even caught a glimpse of the person who hurt you, he would take your hand in his and lead you away as fast as he could. Leading you back to the house, he would sit with you close and make sure to keep an eye on the door. He was insistent on keeping you safe and out of sight. Harvey didn't know what he would do if the abuser was around you, but he knew it wouldn't be good. He loved you too much to put you in harm's way.

sam

• When the time came around to tell Sam about your past relationships, he didn't really expect anything. Okay, you were in a relationship, so what? He didn't expect anything bad, why would anyone do anything bad to you? You're so lovely, bad relationships shouldn't happen to you. But as you told him about everything that had happened to you ... Sam was baffled.

• He was so confused, how could this happen to you? Sam always treated you with respect and kindness and so, so much love! People are horrible, and Sam wasn't expecting this in the slightest. He made that clear to you, resting his hands on your cheeks. He pressed a gentle kiss on your forehead before wiping your tears with his thumb.

• “I never would've guessed that would've happened to you! If I see that fucker, promise you'll let me at 'em? You don't deserve that- you don't deserve anything of the sort! I just ... I love you so much, please don't forget that ... I wouldn't do anything to put you in harm's way, I would rather die, actually. Come here,” he said, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close.

• Sam was pretty cautious about what you said triggered you, but sometimes things happen. He forgot that sudden loud noises made you upset, so when he was practicing on the drum set with no warning ... oops. He noticed how upset you looked, covering your ears. He stopped, cocking his head to the side and asking what was wrong. When you explained, he felt so bad.

• “Oh my God- I am so sorry. I forgot, I didn't realize- fuck ... please, let me make it up to you. Don't cry ... please? I-I promise, I didn't mean to. I was just practicing, but I'll make sure I'll warn you next time or use a mute. I love you, I am so sorry ... you're okay, you're not the one who needs to be apologizing. I love ya, hon. I'll make it up to you, I promise.”

• If you two were to run into your abuser, Sam wouldn't be able to hold back. He would send you off to hang out with Sebastian while he let loose on this fucker. He would beat the absolute shit of out of them (if they are male. If they were female, he would use his words because his mom brought him up right. He would fuck them up with his words though, I promise you that.) He would return to you beaten and bruised, but he would laugh it off. As long as you were safe and nothing was going to harm you, he was perfectly fine.

sebastian

• When the time came to tell Sebastian about your past relationships, he wasn't really worried. He loved you and was curious about your past, but he didn't expect anything necessarily bad. So, you sat him down on the couch. He didn't think it would be too serious, so he laid down against the arm, listening to you intently. But, as you started explaining everything in detail ... he sat straight up.

• Sebastian had always tried his hardest to keep his emotions subdued, he didn't like dealing with them. But things like this ... they made him emotional. Tears were in his eyes, which he tried to blink back. He really loved you, and he couldn't believe anyone could do such a thing to you. He needed to make sure you were okay, so he took your hand.

• “I ... I'm sorry, I'm just kinda speechless ... I promise, I love you, and that's not going to happen again. On my life, nothing will ever happen like that with me. I will ... I will work as hard as I can to keep you safe. Let me know what I can do to help ... you're precious to me. I wouldn't let you in harm's way.”

• He tried his hardest to keep your triggers in mind whenever he could, but we all forget sometimes. While you two were playing video games, he jokingly shoved you a little bit too hard. Of course, this brought back memories which sent you spiralling ... uh oh. Sebastian knew that he had messed up. He needed to bring you back to Earth somehow. He got on his knees in front of you and took your hands in his.

• “Hey, I'm sorry ... I didn't mean it like that. I won't do that anymore, it's just reflexes after hanging out with Sam for so long. I love you, and I would never hurt you on purpose. I won't put my hands on you like that again, okay? ... let me know what I can do to help, I would do anything and everything for you. I'd bend the Earth if I could ... yeah, we can lay down. Wanna pick a movie? ... I'll start some popcorn, go find something and I'll be in there shortly. I love you.”

• If you two were to run into your abuser, Sebastian would make sure to keep you safe. He'd have an arm around you at all times, watching over you while doing daily tasks. If the person were to come up to you, he would shoot a rude comment their way while calculating a way to get you out of this situation safely. The back and forth banter would last a while, but Sebastian wouldn't fight them. He'd make them want to fight him, but he wouldn't dare shoot the first punch. He's mature enough to avoid that situation.

shane

• When the time came around to tell Shane about your past relationships, Shane just shrugged when you brought it up. The past is the past, what's the issue? He soon found out that there were actually a lot of issues. When you slowly went through everything you could, letting all the details slip, Shane just stared daggers into the ground. Holy shit.

• Shane is a damaged person, yes. But knowing that you're damaged, just like him? It made his heart break. You didn't deserve that, that treatment wasn't meant for people like you. He shook his head, his elbows on his knees. He couldn't believe someone would do shit like that, they have some fucking nerve.

• “Fuck 'em. They're not here anymore, and I'll make sure they stay the hell away. Your feelings are valid, and I understand. If you ever need to talk about anythin', let me know ... I'm not the best with emotions, but I promise that I'm always here for ya. Just ... anythin' you need, I guess.”

• Shane tried his hardest to step around your triggers, but when you're a bit tipsy, mistakes are easy to make. You two were having a small disagreement when he accidentally dropped his glass. As the glass shattered, shockwaves were sent through your body. He saw your eyes widen in fear before they began to prick with tears. You didn't think he did it on purpose, did you? He walked closer to you with his hands out, trying to show that he wasn't going to hurt you. He just wanted to comfort you.

• “I promise that wasn't on purpose, hon- the glass just slipped. I wouldn't throw a glass or any shit like that ... has that happened before ...? Fuck- I am so sorry. I love you, I promise, and I wouldn't ever throw shit at you. Let me make it up to you, yeah? I'll hold you for the rest of the night, make you feel all safe ... I am really, really sorry ...”

• If the two of you were to run into your abuser, Shane would certainly have some choice words. He would yell at them from afar, nothing up close, and simply walk away with you by his side. He didn't want to create too much drama, but he wanted that fucker to know that weren't welcome in this town. They weren't welcome around you. All Shane cared about was you, and it was evident.

[dancinglikebutterflywings]

Christmas Cookies | Hongjoong

❄️ Pairing: Dad!Hongjoong x Mum!Reader ❄️ Requested by: Anon ❄️ Synopsis: Making christmas cookies with the family doesn't go to plan. ❄️ Word Count: 1,203 ❄️ Warnings: None. I tried to make this as different from Cookies that I wrote last year as I could. I also used the family from Interruption/Corruption but this is like set in the future kinda. ❄️ Taglist: Open. I am renewing my tag lists for 2025. Please read this post if you want to stay on them- tag list renewal (dec 01-31 2024).

12 Days of Christmas Masterlist

Hongjoong steps into the kitchen hoping to find something to eat, instead his eyes widening at the sight of his wife and daughter covered in flour, while their little boy, not even a year old, snoozes peacefully in a carrier on his mother's back. Scattered across the kitchen counters is ingredients and utensils to make Christmas cookies.  

"What's going on here?" He asks, gaining the attention of his small family. 

"Appa, come make Christmas cookies with us!" Eun-ae says excitedly, dropping the cookie dough that's in her hand on the counter. 

"Honey, you do realize we have a baker who can make cookies for us, right?" Hongjoong replies, surveying the mess before checking the time on his watch. "And it’s nearly 11:30 PM. Why are you both still awake?"  

"She was asleep, but then she had a nightmare," Y/N explains recalling the moment she rushed to Eun-ae's room, heart racing and gun in hand at the sound of her daughter's terrified cries. Relief washed over her when Eun-ae told her she had a scary dream. Their daughter wouldn't tell her what it was about but refused to calm down until Y/N promised her that daddy wasn't far from coming home. "I thought baking Christmas cookies would be a good distraction until you got home." 

"And what about our little guy?" he asks, taking off his suit jacket and grabbing an apron from the hooks by the door.  

"He woke up shortly after," she replies. "He wouldn’t settle back down either."  

"Well, he’s out cold now," Hongjoong says tying the apron at the back and peering into the carrier as he joins them. He smiles seeing his son sleeping soundly, completely unaware of the floury chaos his sister is creating. "What do you need me to do?" he asked Eun-ae, who was clearly leading the cookie-making operation. 

Eun-ae's eyes light up with joy as she points to a bowl filled with cookie dough. "Can you roll that out so we can make shapes with these?" she asked, directing her tiny finger toward the array of cookie cutters laid out before her. All of them are Christmas themed shapes. 

"And Eomma will clean up a bit," Y/N adds, reaching for the paper towels. As she starts tidying up, she steals a glance at her husband and daughter, watching him roll out the dough while Eun-ae picks out her favorite shapes. A smile spreads across her face. Despite it being so late, moments like these are what makes everything she does for her family seem worth it and she'll do it all over again if she had too.  

Once the cookies are baking in the oven and the kitchen counter is much tidier, Y/N feels Eun-chan starting to stir awake. "Joong," she softly calls to her husband who's watching the cookies bake with Eun-ae as she rambles on about what colour she wants to ice them. "I think Channie's waking up," she informs him as he turns to look at her.  

"Step back a little. I don’t want you to get burned," Hongjoong cautions Eun-ae, noticing she has she's moved a little too close to the oven. After she steps back, he makes his way over to Y/N, looks inside the carrier, finding Eun-chan's big brown eyes staring right back him and lifts him out as Y/N unbuckles the carrier, taking it off. 

Hongjoong cradles him close, whispering lyrics to a song that make the baby coo softly, his tiny fingers curling around his father's shirt as he nestles his head against his chest. It doesn't take long for Eun-chan to fall back into a peaceful slumber, his little breaths steady and calm. 

"I should go put him back in his crib," Y/N says quietly, not wanting to disturb her son's sleep. 

"I can do," Hongjoong assures her. "You just sit down and relax while the cookies bake."  He presses a quick peck to her lip before disappearing out of the kitchen after promising Eun-ae he'll be back in a few minutes.  

When Hongjoong re-enters the kitchen fifteen minutes later, he finds Eun-ae in tears for the second time that evening. "What’s wrong?" he asks, a bit alarmed, taking in his daughter’s distraught appearance while Y/N looks a bit disheartened.  

"I think we might have messed up the recipe," Y/N explains, putting on the oven mitt and pulling the tray of cookies from the oven. The cookies have completely lost their shape, turning into blobs of melted cookie dough. The once-promising batch of cookies now resembled a chaotic, gooey mess rather than the perfectly shaped treats they had envisioned.  

Hongjoong's eyes widen in surprise, and he quickly moves closer to inspect the disaster. "Oh no," he murmurs, trying to suppress a chuckle at the sight. "What happened?"  

Y/N sighs, her shoulders slumping slightly. "I think I might have mismeasured the flour. I was distracted by Eun-chan waking up and..." She glances at Eun-ae, who is still sniffling, her big eyes glistening with tears.  

Eun-ae wipes her cheeks with the back of her hand, her disappointment evident. "But I wanted to decorate them with red and green icing! Now we can't even do that!" she cries, her voice trembling.  

Hongjoong kneels down beside her, his expression softening. "Hey, it’s okay, sweetheart. Sometimes things don’t go as planned, but that doesn't mean we can't make the most of it," he tries to assure her. "How about this, we decorate these ones, make them all nice and pretty and then we can enjoy them with milk. Then tomorrow I can talk to Mrs Lee and ask her if you can help her make some more cookies. How does that sound?" 

Eun-ae sniffs, her tears slowing as she considers his words. "You really think we can make them look nice?" she asks. 

"The three of us doing it together, I think we can," he smiles. 

"Okay, Appa," she agrees even though her expression is sceptical.  

Hongjoong picks her up and carries her to the kitchen counter, placing her on one of the stools. "Now let's make these cookies pretty again," he says, confidently picking up one of the icing bags. 

I am renewing my tag list. Please read this post - tag list renewal (1st-31st Dec) - if you want to remain on the tag list.

already renewed:

@carattinymoa - @ateezswonderland - @forever-atiny - @choppedballoondetective - @rainyday-daydreamer 

@ultrapinkvoidbouquet - @reiofsuns2001 - @alexxavicry - @hollxe1 - @bookswillfindyouaway

-

2024 taglist.

@katzline - @treehouse-mouse - @jedi-dreea - @green-agent - @tinyelfperson -

@yeonjunnie – @laylasbunbunny – @deltamoon666 - @skz1-4-3 - @everythingboutkpop -

@oddracha - @http-gyu - @skittyneos - @pinkpunkdynamite - @keshivibes -

@katsukis1wife - @jjoongstar - @arki-sha - @lixisoul99 - @do-you-remember-summer-127 -

@catzachvsvt - @lemur46 - @bygoodness - @ateez-atiny380 - @reayahnadeem2