#was barely eating/sleeping the first half and now i'm eating/sleeping too much

[heybaetae]

.

[icewindandboringhorror]

finally finished all of one character's entire quests/optional dialogue/questions/etc.... 100,000 words... .... aughhh

[deusfoundry]

18+ only mdni pls thank u!

also big BIIG thanks to ree @tbaluver for helping me w this ILY MWAAH!

zayne would never be opposed to letting you have your way with him.

one half-lidded gaze from you, one graze of your manicured nails at his clothed length, one drag of your wet tongue against the shell of his ear as you tell him how badly you want him inside you, and he's a goner. already, he's letting you drag him to the bedroom. sometimes neither of you even have the patience to go there, and zayne ends up pinning you against the wall just outside his office, his palms desperately clinging to the back of your thigh in a way that burns. sometimes he settles on having you bent over his desk, his chest pressed against your back, the same nails clawing at the heavy mahogany, papers hastily pushed to the side.

but this report is important. it's due first thing in the morning, and as much as he wants to be in bed with you, right now he has to finish this.

when you first approached him tonight with the pure and genuine intention of getting him to sleep early, he dismisses you apologetically. he places a hand on your cheek, swiping his thumb right below your eyes as if he's wiping your tears and tells you he's sorry. he'll be there soon, and you should go to sleep if you're feeling tired (which he knows you are, if the yawn you struggle to push down is anything to go by).

he watches your figure retreat from his office, shoulders hunched and footsteps unnervingly silent. the guilt starts to simmer within him, slowly, steadily eating at him until he's filled with thoughts of abandoning his work to put that smile he adores back on your face. he wills his focus back on the screen in front of him instead, dead set on making it up to you after his shift tomorrow. perhaps he can even afford to clock out a little earlier, just in time to pick up two boxes of the strawberry macarons you two love so much from a cafe at the other side of town right before they close.

except, you come back to his office a half hour later, and this time, zayne knows you're up to no good.

it's in the little things. you're sauntering towards him with a sway to your hips. the first two buttons of his shirt you're wearing is undone, one side of the collar pulled to the edge of your shoulder, exposing to him a dangerous amount of smooth skin. the cherry on top is the noticeable absence of the shorts you were wearing earlier.

zayne wonders if you'd forgo wearing your underwear as well.

"zayne..." it's there, too. in the way you say his name, drawled out and a little breathless. if he listens closely, he can hear the undertone of a whine.

he feels the all familiar strain in his pants.

zayne watches, a mix of amusement and intrigue, as you rub a palm up and down the length of his arm before nudging it away and sliding yourself onto his lap. you encase his neck between your arms, using it to anchor yourself closer until you're right on top of his increasingly aching cock.

you make no comment about the bulge in his pants poking your thighs, but he knows you're aware of the effect you have on him. a smug grin makes it way to your lips. just a flicker, a brief moment where you acknowledge what you're doing to him, and it's gone the next second.

"i'm not feeling too well, doctor. i think i need a check-up."

you begin feigning distress, making a show out of curling into yourself and leaning against his chest. the movement you make causes the fabric on your shoulder to slip off. slowly, like each added inch of skin baring itself to him is taunting him. it stops, resting right in the middle of your arm, low enough that he can see the better part of your left breast.

his face runs hot, but he decides to humor you. just for the few seconds he could afford to spare if he wanted to finish this report before midnight.

the back of zayne's hand finds your neck. he moves it around a little, shifting from one side to another as if he's checking for your temperature.

"there's nothing particularly off about your temperature." he hums, sliding you further down his lap, intent on pouring all his attention to his work. he'll just have to deal with his ... problem later.

zayne almost misses the way your face falls in disappointment once you realize what he's doing. there's that guilt again.

he plants a kiss on your temple, his lips lingering on the side of your head much longer than it should've had. he's hoping it's enough to convey his words unsaid.

"perhaps you're just missing a few hours of sleep. shall i accompany the patient back to her bedroom?"

you stay quiet, lips pursed in deep thought. the silence stretches on until zayne gathers it's time for him to speak.

only, you beat him to it, moving to straddle his thighs so quickly that zayne can only react by wrapping an arm around your waist to make sure you don't fall. you land right back over his cock with enough force that it pulls an involuntary groan out of his lips and a whimper from yours.

"i think-" you breathe in, a sharp inhale through your nose before you breathe out through your mouth. the searing heat of your breath on zayne's ear makes him shiver beneath you, low vibrations sending a jolt to your clit through the damp fabric of your panties.

"i think this requires a more..." you take his hand in yours, shakily drawing it closer to hover over your breast. "hands-on approach, doctor."

zayne's head is spinning. your cunt over his painfully hard cock. the odd warmth radiating from your chest, the faint shadow of your pert nipples through his shirt. this look you're giving him, eyes hazy and half-closed like you're already lost in the pleasure when you've barely gotten enough. it's too much.

it's all too much.

"dear-"

he's cut off by the drag of your hips, pressing down on him with enough pressure that his head is thrown back from the friction of the inner fabric of his pants rubbing against his length, but just shy of the speed you both need to chase your high.

zayne finally puts his foot down when your pace starts to get more frantic. he pries his hand off of yours, using the combined strength of his arm around your waist and his hand on your hips to steady you.

he hears a quiet whine slipping past your lips at the loss of pleasure.

"stop. t- that's enough." he means to add more conviction to his words, but he finds that his voice comes out as less polite pleading and more pathetic begging. "i'll make it up to you later, just- just let me finish this."

a mix of whimpers and whines fall off your lips. you try to move despite his restraints, rolling your hips with as much fervor as you can muster. and it works. zayne moans, his arms going limp over that momentary burst of pleasure. you take advantage of his weakened state to full on ride his clothed cock.

zayne begins to lose himself. the thought of his report sits there, idly in the back of his mind, but it's almost completely replaced by you. you, and the delicious roll of your hips into his, filling his vision with the sight of stars and the whole universe. you, and the blissed out look on your face as you use his body to chase your pleasure. you, your eyes shut in concentration, your messed up hair, your nails clawing at his shoulders.

you.

you.

you.

you've almost consumed him whole.

almost.

zayne regains his bearings just in time to stop you from going over the edge. your eyes are pried open, jaw slacking as his hand finds your waist once more. you're about to complain, beg him to allow you to keep going. but his fingers dig into your flesh. his grip, firm yet delicate, sends an odd blend of pain and pleasure through your senses.

"i said that's enough."

zayne says—no, commands with a certain finality in his voice that makes you think he wants to stop altogether. but you find his actions contradicting his words when he pushes his chair back, providing him enough space to turn you around with ease.

your mind is having trouble keeping up with him. you can make out the sound of his zipper being pulled, the rustling of his pants as he yanks it down just enough for his length to spring free, the light slapping of skin on skin when his cock makes brief contact with your back. but you only come face to face with what's happening when zayne hoists you up by the waist, dragging your panties to the side. your juices from earlier acts as a lubricant for him to sheathe his cock into you with little resistance.

you're so full so suddenly, gummy walls gripping him like a vice. the tip brushes against that spot inside you that zayne knows sends your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

"zayne-!"

"shh, be quiet." he slides the chair back towards the desk, his arm unmoving around your waist. every slight twitch of his cock has you clenching down on him, but zayne makes no move to react. your only indication of how riled up he truly is are his hand latching on to your skin and the minute quiver of his voice, breath hot and shaky over your ear.

you're reminded of how it was him in this position a moment ago. how it was seemingly your victory.

"now, why don't you be a good girl and stay still."

something tells you you're in for a long night.

a/n: smut is surprisingly fun to write lmfao HKASHFD

dividers by @cafekitsune

[ms-dead-inside]

Okay, but hear me out:

Murder baby Damian, but for whatever reason, his first attempt at Tim's life is put on pause, so they never have that interaction. Instead, before Damian can come up with a new plan, Tim (who's kinda excited he now isn't the baby of the family) offers to train him in detective work for when Damian finally gets the mantle of 'Robin' as a way to bond with him.

"Why train your enemy, Drake?"

"We're brothers, not enemies. Besides, Robin has always been a mantle to pass down. I'm certainly not going to keep it in my twenties or thirties. And other than Bruce, I'm the best detective in the family."

"Very well, Drake, I shall accept your tutelage for the time being."

Damian accepts, of course. Not only can he study Drake for his weaknesses, he will also improve his own skill set. It's worth the wait for Robin. By the time Damian's done, there will be no doubt that he is the superior bat.

Unfortunately, he actually grows fond of Timothy. While he will inevitably get close with Richard, just like in canon, Timothy is a breath of fresh air for when Richard is being too overbearing, especially when it comes to things like 'socializing,' and 'making friends.'

When his father dies, and Timothy declared him actually lost to time, Richard doesn't believe him, can't believe him, because the hope is too painful. Timothy still gives Damian Robin, because, "I'm barely holding on as Batman as it is. I can't handle Robin being gone for potentially months at a time, halfway around the world."

During his partnership with Richard, truly becoming his brother-son, Richard introduces the ideas of pets to him. Damian loves animals, and having and taking care of a creature that could potentially survive on its own, but will have a much better quality of life under his care, speaks to him. He has Alfred and Titus and about half a dozen other stray animals that usually stay for about a week while he nurses them to health at any given moment, but he feels like he should officially have another pet.

Que the whole thing with his grandfather, and Timothy getting kicked out of the top of a skyscraper. He comes home with proof, and the Justice League brings his father home. And as Dick basically refuses to let anyone leave the mansion for the foreseeable future, Damian realizes several facts:

1.) Timothy is a human, and humans are animals.

2.) While Timothy has somehow survived until now, he wouldn't recognize self-care if it slapped him in the face.

3.) Timothy's quality of life will improve if someone is taking care of him because he cannot be trusted to do it for himself. (Is it a coincidence that he loses organs when he is away from the family? Damian thinks not.)

4.) Damian has gotten good at taking care of animals.

Ergo, Timothy is now Damian's pet. Tim doesn't know what to do and simply humors him. Besides, it's nice when someone actually bothers to give him a plate of foods that he likes when he gets hyper focused on work and forgets to eat. That, and while he is exasperated every time Damian tranqs him, those are still the best sleeps of his life.

Jason finds it hilarious. Damian doesn't understand Richard or his father's reactions.

"Damian, Tim can take care of himself."

"Barely. Father, now that I am in charge of his sleep schedule, there aren't as many dark circles under his eyes. Even Alfred has commented that Timothy consumes less caffeine."

"Damian, he can't be your pet."

"Why not?"

"Tim's your brother; he's family."

"So are you saying that Alfred and Titus aren't family?"

[melancholyhigh]

SUNRISE.

ft. brother's best friend!leon x reader

synopsis. even though leon's supposed to be having a sleepover with your brother, he can't help but miss you, sneaking behind your brother's back to fulfil his desires.

content. 2.4k words. smut. subby!leon, handjob, fingering, quiet & sneaky sex, unprotected p in v, creampie, oral (f receiving), come eating, praise kink.

note. i'm finally active and the first thing i do is write for sub leon. old habits die hard.

masterlist. i love reblogs & validation !!

You stare blankly at your ceiling, unable to fall asleep. It’s currently 5 AM, and you’ve spent the entire night twisting and turning, trying to succumb to the sweet escape of slumber.

You believe it’s your body betraying you. Your brain understands his presence near you, but not close enough. It yearns for him and his touch, unable to function without it. He’s in the room across from yours, lying on the grimy couch in your brother’s room as he peacefully sleeps.

Your eyes begin to droop, and you allow yourself to give into the sense of vulnerability. Breaths coming out evenly, your chest rising and falling in sync. 

All sense of tranquillity disappears at the firm knock on your door. What could your parents possibly want?

You let out a groan in frustration. In all honesty, you’re about to burst into tears. The comforting rest you’ve been anticipating since Monday swept away because you couldn’t handle your feelings correctly, up late at night just thinking about what could’ve been.

The quicker you get it over with, the faster you’ll be able to get some sleep. You highly doubt that, though.

A few minutes pass, and you rip the smothering blanket off you, shuffling to the door. Gripping the cool metal of the doorknob, you stall before turning it.

The door opens to reveal him. Leon. The source of your nighttime dilemmas. His lips curved into a shy smile, and his eyelids drooped with similar exhaustion to yours. Your anger and frustration dissipate when you meet his tired gaze. It’s astonishing how much control he has over your emotions, over you.

“Can I come in?” he asks sheepishly, his voice hoarse from sleep. You stumble to the side, silently allowing him to enter the confines of your room. It’s second nature to him when he falls not so gracefully onto your bed, snuggling your sheets.

Closing the door, you lock it before joining him on your bed. It wasn’t unusual for Leon to find comfort in your twin-sized bed despite barely being able to fit in it with you, his limbs dangling off the ledge. It was odd of him to entertain the idea while your brother was nearby. 

He’s the cautious one despite asking you out first. He’s reluctant to face the consequences of your brother finding him intertwined with you in your sheets. You’re not mad at him for keeping your relationship private, but it’s not like you hate the idea of him showing you off or you, him.

You don’t care if your brother finds out. He’d get over it, but your brother’s a bitch when he wants to be. Though you’ve dealt with him for most of your life, it would be nothing new.

So, it confuses you why he’d want to doze off on your bed, risking facing your brother, and your silence doesn’t go unnoticed by him.

“I’m sorry for waking you up. I couldn’t sleep without you,” Leon mentions, words slurring from his drowsiness. If you were unable to sleep before, now you’re wide awake. He could’ve lied, saying that shitty recliner your brother got on a ‘deal’ was terrible support for his back. But no, he needed you just as much as you needed him. 

“I missed you too,” you reply, nose almost touching his as you rest your head on his pillow. Every moment shared between you two, you can’t help but admire him. He’s so pretty, even like this. Blonde hair draped messily onto your pillow, his cheeks rosy, and his half-lidded eyes shine brighter than any of the stars you’ve gazed at.

A grin graces his usual pouty lips. Leaning over, he presses his mouth to yours — it’s less lust and more intimate, reminding you of the first kiss you shared. You had never been more grateful for your dumbass brother getting locked in the theatre’s bathroom stall.

Your mom had forced you to pick up your little brother and his friend from the movie theatre, and you hadn’t anticipated his cute friend, whom you may have liked, sitting in the passenger seat as you both waited begrudgingly for your brother.

You had seen him around, playing fighter games with your brother on his PS1 in the living room. He was your favourite of his friends. Not only was he handsome, but he was also a good influence on your troublesome brother. And you may have developed a teensy crush on him. You didn’t take it seriously because you’re his best friend’s sibling — why would he even consider you an option?

Until that evening when he proved you wrong, your brother was gone for 20 minutes, and you had no other option but to talk to the boy. He was a bit awkward, you were too, but you both began talking and surprisingly hit it off. 

After mindless chatter, he confessed, which confused you til no end. He really wanted you? Your silence startled the poor boy, ultimately leading you to return his feelings with a simple kiss to end the night.

But it's different now as you entangle your fingers into his hair, tugging softly, a soft whimper falls from his parted lips — why was everything about him so pretty?

“Don’t be so loud, baby. Do you want him to hear you?” you whispered teasingly against his lips. His warm hands trail under your sleep shirt and grip your hips roughly.

“Fuck off,” he huffs quietly. The walls are thin, incredibly so. You’ve heard the movies Leon and your brother were watching during the night, and you’re sure they’ve heard you listening to music, so it was plausible that he might hear Leon’s moans and whines, but your brother slept like a rock.

And, even though the prospect of people knowing how good you please Leon was hot. The mortification of your brother, let alone your mother catching you, certainly was not.

Taking your hand in his, he guides it to his crotch, his erection straining his plaid pyjama pants. He lets you feel how badly he wants you, nuzzling into the crook of your neck and leaving kisses down the column of your throat. 

The sun slips into your room through the gap in your curtains, and you ponder how long you’ve been making out to get him so aroused. 

“Let me feel you, baby,” Leon breathed into the crook of your neck. Your hand slips into his pants, fingers teasing the head of his sensitive cock, stringy precum sticking to them. Your own arousal pools in your underwear, clinging to your drenched cunt. 

Deft fingers encircle his shaft, lazily stroking the base of his dick. Between shared kisses, Leon sneaks his hand into your shorts and underwear, rubbing your needy clit, and a sharp whimper falls from your lips. He tantalizingly glides his fingers through your slicked folds, teasing your sensitive nub with each pass of his digits.

The movements of your hand on his cock become messy and frantic, precum continuing to spill onto the material of his pants with each buck of his hip. 

You’re not faring better when he plunges his fingers into your tight hole, thrusting, resulting in your cunt producing slick and embarrassing noises. Your combined gasps and whines fill the room despite being quelled by each other’s lips. 

You melt away in each other's arms, forgetting about the conflict that would arise if anyone found you and him in such a predicament.

Drawing away from your swollen lips, Leon stills his fingers in your pussy, pulling them out, and you cease your hand on his dick. He groans at the loss of pleasure from your hands and the slick accumulated on his digits, unaware he made you so wet for him. 

“Can I cum inside you, angel?” he whispers breathlessly into your ear. He’s thoroughly lost in pleasure, uncaring if your brother finds him knuckles deep into your cunt. His cheeks are flushed pink, the blush leading to his chest under his black graphic tee. Chest heaving up and down with each breath as he admires your equally fucked out expression.  

“Mhm, okay,” you hummed, and Leon shifted his back flat on the mattress, allowing you to straddle him with shaky thighs when you rid yourself of your shorts and underwear. Leon’s palms instinctively went to your waist, gripping the flesh as he stabilised you, your ass sitting flushed to his clad thighs.

His shirt rides up, exposing his v-line dipping into his pants. Gasping softly when the fabric of his pants grazed his sensitive head, your hands eagerly dragged them down, revealing his pretty dick, flushed red to the tip oozing with precum. 

Hovering over him, you guide his cock through your glistening folds with your hand's help. You collectively groan when you slide down his cock, taking every inch of him into your tight hole. As you adjust to his size and girth, you lean down, kissing him as he encircles his arms around your waist.

You rock your hips gently, and Leon groans into your parted lips. He trails his lips to your collarbone, biting on the exposed flesh. A sudden moan escapes you when he thrusts his hips upwards into your pussy. His needy and feverish behaviour reminds you of your first time together. 

The squeaky opening of the door opposing your room results in you halting your movement on top of Leon, and he whines in protest. You clasp your hand over his mouth, glaring at him. With the tightening hold of your waist and the muffled moans, Leon is acting careless. He doesn’t give a fuck about your brother right now, too focused on the constricting grasp your velvety walls have on his throbbing cock.

The footsteps pad down the hallway, and you assume your brother is making his way down the stairs. 

“Be a good boy f’me, Leon,” you whisper, moving your hand away from his face. You don’t know what overcame him for him to be acting so recklessly. Cupping his blotchy red cheeks, you note how dazed he looks, his blue irises hidden in his dilated pupils.

“Ah, don’t stop fucking me,” he breathed in response, his hips continuing to rut into your warm cunt. The intimacy of it all makes it even more challenging to delay his release, you moving up and down his cock, riding him slowly and passionately in the morning, beams of sun sprinkling into the room, setting the euphoric scene. 

It almost makes him forget the absurdity of it. Letting his best friend’s sibling fuck him into an incoherent mess at 6 in the morning, yet he regrets nothing. He can’t help but grip your soft thighs encompassing him as he thrusts half-haphazardly into your hole, dripping down and sticking to his skin. 

He spills into you with a soft moan, staining your walls with his cum at the combination of your teasing words and soft lips on his.

“Good boy, Leon. You did so good,” you coo at him, and Leon whimpers at your praises and your tightening cunt around his overstimulated cock.

Slipping his softening dick out your hole, you collapse next to him, chest heaving as his cum trickles out of you, staining your thighs. Your eyes flutter shut, and drowsiness finally takes over your overworked body. 

Though, next to you, Leon brews in self-thought. He came after you did all the work, leaving you high and dry. What kind of boyfriend was he?

“You didn’t cum.”

“S’fine, Leon. I don’t want you to hurt yourself,” you grumbled, blinking your eyes open to glimpse at him. He’s pouting, and despite how endearing you found it when he couldn’t control himself around you, cumming prematurely like some bumbling virgin (he was), Leon still feels like a selfish lover.

“I can still make you cum. Please? You deserve it.” Before you can disagree with him, your brother is awake downstairs, probably looking for him — Leon quickly situates himself between your thighs, eager to satisfy you.

“Y- Yeah, okay, sure,” you stammered, because how could you deny your pretty boy, peering up at you through his long lashes between your thighs?

Spreading your thighs open, hooking them over his shoulders, Leon admires his cum leaking out your hole, stretched out due to his fat cock. You feel bashful as he marvels at your stuffed cunt, moaning in surprise when a glob of his spit falls onto your messy folds mixing with his release.

Hungrily he laps at your cunt, his skilful tongue nudging your overly responsive clit. Leon loves to make you cum with his mouth. He loves to make you feel good, and it’s dirty the way he grinds his once again hardening cock against your sheets, chasing the friction while he messily eats you out, your cunt dripping with arousal mixing with his cum.

You entangle your fingers into his hair, shoving his pretty face further into your cunt, your back arching. Biting your lip, you nearly draw blood, trying to conceal your groans.

He enjoys your pussy like it’s the main course after an appetiser, tasting his salty cum and your contrasting sweet juices as he delves his tongue into your hole. His fingers rub your throbbing clit, and your thighs shake around his head. Leon’s muffled moans and whines reverberate throughout your body, adding heat to the coiling in your tummy. 

“Am I doin’ a good job?” he questions, desperate to be good enough for you before he returns to your cunt, dragging his tongue flat against you.

“You’re amazing, baby. ‘M so close.” His nails dig into the fat of your thighs, leaving indents. You roughly pull at his hair as you climax, your body trembling when Leon moans into you. 

He continues to sloppily make out with your pussy even after your high. When he pulls away from you, a gloss of your combined cum stains his plush lips. He kisses you softly, allowing you to taste both him and you on his lips. 

He helps you into your shorts, pulling his pants up, attempting to look presentable, which is unlikely with the dried cum that stains the fabric of his PJs. He lays in your bed with you, cosying up to you with him in your arms, face in your chest. Caught up in his fantasies, he fails to face reality.

“I think you should leave. My brother might be looking for you,” you mumbled into his hair. Leon huffs in annoyance before untwining with your limbs. He wants to ask since when do you care so much about such trivial things, but he complies. He knows you’re just looking out for him.

[syoounn]

Morning Kisses~

•Morning kisses with bsd men~

•Characters: Dazai, Chuuya Sigma

(part 2)

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Dazai

The sun has been fully risen up, yet you and your lover were still in bed, and Dazai refused to get up.

"Dazai... We should get up.." You said as he was still clinging to you.

He chuckled and held you in his arms, continuing to burried his face to your neck and inhaling your scent.

"I know we should, but... Can't we just stay here for five more minutes..."

He said as he started to nuzzle himself more into you, refusing to get up nor getting out of you... this is always the struggle that you have to face every day in the morning. Dazai's clingiest is hard to stop... so you have to be patient and just give him the same treatment.

"You already said that many time you know.."

"And I'm gonna keep on saying it many more times as well.." He sighed and kissed your forehead while brushing your hair with his fingers and smiled softly at you.

The way he smiled makes you blush a bit... he's really handsome. As you just sigh and see that both of you won't be able to eat breakfast today...

"How about i give you some morning kisses" You said smiling at him.

"Hmm..." He chuckled as he held down your hands with one of his and used his free hand to play with your hair. "Now, that's the idea I like.."

As both of your lips met... as dazai's lips were soft and gentle... as he pulled away and kissed you again and pulled away again. He kept repeating as both of you were smiling and giggling from the sweet moments and kisses that both of you experienced right now. Even tho he's a stubborn man... you can't help but really love him for that.

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chu-chuuya

Chuuya's eyes fluttered open slowly, and the room was still dark. It was pretty early in the morning. The birds were just starting to chirp outside as the sun barely peeked over the horizon.

Chuuya stretched and rubbed his eyes, and his hand brushed against yours gently. He sighed happily when he felt you. He started to wake up even more. He looked at you quietly, staring at your sleeping face.

You were hugging a pillow while sleeping Your face was so precious when you were asleep. The way you pressed your head against the pillow and the faint snores that came from your mouth.. how could he not love you?

Chuuya looked down, realizing that he was staring at you a little too much. He felt himself start to blush. Slowly, he pulled you even closer towards him, cuddling you against him. He couldn't wait till you woke up.

You were slowly waking up as he looked down, noticing that you were still clinging to the pillow closely and about to wake up. Chuuya smirked slightly and brushed a lock of your hair away from your face.

"Morning, doll," He muttered softly. Chuuya waited to see if you’d respond first.

You didn't respone as you were still a little bit sleepy and trying to get sleep again as he spoke.

"You're really adorable when you're all sleepy like this." He chuckled softly, rubbing your back as he waited for you to fully wake up.

"Im not.." You said still sleepy.

“Yes, you are.” He said in a low voice, almost purring.

“It’s so cute- I love hearing your little sleepy snores and seeing you press your face against the pillow.”

You didn't respond as you were half asleep.

Chuuya continued to smirk, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

“You’re trying to fall asleep again, aren’t you?”

He laughed softly.

“Well, it’s not happening. I want my morning kiss.”

"Later.." You turned to the side of the bed.

Chuuya chuckled, nudging you as you did that.

"Huh? No, I want my morning kiss now."

He continued to pull you into him making you face him, not letting you get away from him this.

You gave him a quick kiss as you lay down on the bed as your eyes slowly closing.

Chuuya was satisfied with getting his morning kiss, but he wanted even more.

"What - that’s it? Come on, that was hardly a kiss." He teased you as he pulled you back against him, trying to get another kiss. He leaned in closer against you, pulling you slightly tighter into his chest so that your body was pressed against his. He then slowly closed the gap between your two lips, his breath hot against your skin, right before the two of your lips finally touched.

Chuuya pulled away and started giving you random kisses on your cheeks, forehead, and everywhere at your face trying to wake you up.

He then stopped he saw you blushing and trying to get up now.. "Fine.. fine... i-..i'll get up..." you said with a flushed face. Little do you know... that's his secret method to make you get up early. Cause... you won't able to resist that.

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Sigma

You and sigma were cuddling at the early at the morning and, of course... you lover has to go to work and run up the Sky Casino but you being so adorable yet stubborn and won't let go of him.

Sigma place his fingers on your arms to try and persuade you more.

“Please, I need to work but I don’t want to leave you.” His voice sounded gentle and he let out his usual soft sigh.

"Just five more minutes.. pleaaase?" You said looking at him pleading.

“But dear, You've already said that five minutes ago.”

He looked even more saddened by your request for him to stay with you a little more, he hated the thought of leaving you all alone on the soft sofa they were lying in, his hands fidgeted with your soft skin as he held your arms looking in your eyes and he clearly doesn't want to leave you too... but he have to. He sighed once again.

"Fine... then can i just get my morning kiss?" You said.

The moment you ask that, his entire mood would lift, and he would seem a bit more cheerful, which was a nice change from the way he looked before. Sigma's hands were no longer fidgeting with your arms. They now rested on your body.

“Of course.” Sigma said as he started leaning towards you, his lips inching closer to touch yours. And then finally giving you a soft loving kiss right on the lips.

When Sigma kissed you, his body would relax a bit, not completely due to the constant worry he had about his work. But as the two of you started kissing, he could easily take his mind off of the work in his office for a moment and just enjoy the feeling of holding you and kissing you. The soft sigh he gave out made it obvious that he enjoyed this moment just as much as you did.

“Mmm.” Sigma would pull away and nuzzle his warm face onto your neck as he sighed with a content look on his face. “I won’t like leaving you love, I just need to work.”

“Hmm…” Sigma would place his free hand on your cheek, his thumb caressing your soft skin.

“Just promise me one thing, you won’t move while I’m out.” Sigma said as he moved his hand to the back of your head and placing your face onto his chest.

"Mhm.. promise.." You said as you gave him a kiss on your cheek.

Sigma smiled at you as he felt you kiss him on the cheek, he felt relieved that you promised him you wouldn’t move from the position you were in once he left.

“Thank you darling.” He said as he would then stand up from the soft bed and would start walking to the door way, only to look back at you one last time with a smile. “I’ll be back in no time at all. I promise.”

He then walked away to get ready... while you wait for him to come back and get cuddles again. After all, he can’t rest without your warm embrace and kisses.

˜”*˜”*˜”*˜”*˜”*˜”*˜”*˜”*˜”*˜”*˜”*˜”*˜”*˜”*˜”*˜”*˜”*

[have-you-seen-my-sanity]

Moon boys after NNN

Moon Knight system x fem!reader

Summary: The boys barely survived the NNN challenge and december has arrived.

Can be seen as a sequel to -> [X]

CW/triggers: NSFW, smut, fingering, oral (m! + f! receiving), spanking, cum eating, p in v, brat taming(?), thanksgiving mentioned. Let me know if I missed some!

A/n: I'll be sent straight to prison for this. Life sentence into an asylum wearing a straitjacket aswell.

December finally arrived, November is no more, meaning you can get comfortable while it's snowing outside, christmas feeling everywhere, get some hot chocolate to enjoy and...

The boys.

Last month was a bit entertaining. For you atleast. But the boys? Not so much. Not at all.

Jake was the only one who was acting normal, whistling and acting all professional.

Steven had some days where he acted like being seconds away from snapping, even biting his fingernails to suppress his needs.

Marc wasn't afraid of staring you down like you were his next prey he's going to chase down and enjoy for himself. Seeing him act like that made you afraid of even saying one word or make a remark about his behavior, fearing he might just pounce on you.

You haven't talked to the boys yet, it was only 4 AM and you didn't want to disrupt their sleep if they even were sleeping and not plotting their revenge on you.

It was only seconds after you came back from a raid on the fridge that you heard a knock on your door.

"Mi amor?"

You froze. It was Jake.

"Don't try to hide, you're not sleeping, we heard you in the kitchen." Jake chuckled, before he slowly opened the door, poking his head inside. "Oh hey, there you are." he grinned.

*Who's gettin' her first, guys?*

*Jake.*

"Jake? Why are you awake? It's 4 AM."

Jake closed the door behind him and slowly walked towards you. "Well," he shrugged "thought we will start the day early, eh? Maybe a nice wake up call?"

He sat down at the edge of your bed while you eyed him with tiredness and confusion.

"Alright hermosa, why don't you bend over my knees?" he patted them invitingly, grinning like the cheshire cat.

You swallowed, obediently getting up to bend over his knees. You knew you're in trouble now.

"So," he started, running his hand over your butt, giving each cheek a squeeze. "you had one month of just having yourself." he spanked you lightly. "But you know what?" he leaned down. "Steven, Marc and I are so pent up rightnow." he said, giving another spank, harder this time.

"You could have said something!" you gasped.

Jakes hand slipped underneath your clothes, squeezing your thigh. "Oh you didn't notice us? How the other two were acting?"

"I'm sorry!"

Jake chuckled, his hand found it's way to your hole, finding it already wet. "Look at that, you're wet! Couldn't wait either, hm?" he teased, his fingers probing into you and pushing two inside.

"F-where are the other two?" you half moaned, half gasped.

Jake thrusted his fingers in and out of you. "Don't worry, they will get their share too." he undressed your lower half, spreading your legs for better access while finger fucking you. His other hand moved to stroke his hardening cock through his pants, this time Jake isn't being as patient now that he's got you.

He pulled his semi-hard cock out, stroking himself a few times before looking down at you. "Why don't you go ahead and give me a head start?" he asked gently, but there was a demand in his tone that couldn't been overheard.

Leaning in, you licked the underside of his shaft, moving upwards while Jake finger fucked you faster, he was already starting to leak, you licked the tip, gathering the precum on your tongue before heading in, taking his throbbing cock into your mouth and swirling your tongue around it.

It caused Jake's leg to twitch at the sudden warmth of your mouth and your tongue magic.

"Fuck," he threw his head back, his hand cradling your head "you have no idea how good that feels after so long."

Your moans around him made him shudder at the pleasure. His thumb moved to rub your clit, making you almost drool all over his cock before his fingers dipped back into your needy pussy, curling them just right to make you arch your back.

Jake pushed your head down further on his cock, urging you to take more of him. He felt his control slipping, his hips rocked gently as he held you captive on his cock with his fingers stuffing your needy pussy.

Your eyes rolled back when Jake curled his fingers and hit a sweet spot. His breathing was getting heavier, the thrusts of his fingers harder and his cock throbbed inside your mouth.

"Shit, sweetheart, I'm getting close." Jake groaned, guiding your head faster. Jake pulled his fingers out of you, rubbing your clit in fast circles and pressing down, only to dive his fingers back into your cunt, making you moan uncontrollably around his cock, your teeth grazing his shaft which made him almost cum but he held himself back.

"Fuck, -ah- keep going sweetie." He grunted.

You felt his fingers curl inside you again, making you see stars when finally you coated his fingers in your juices. Jake didn't hesistate, using his free hand to join his other on your head, making you gag multiple times as Jake just used you like a doll.

Finally, when he came down your throat, he came hard, holding you in place while you obediently swallowed his load and catching his breath.

"You're okay down there, princesa?" Jake asked, gently pulling you off of his softening cock and cradling your face. "Phew, I'm afraid I enjoyed that way too much." he chuckled softly, moving in to kiss your forehead.

"I'll leave you be now, okay?" Jake cooed, but he knew you're far from done.

He stood up, leaving you sitting on the bed. Jake stopped with his hand on the door handle, turning around to face you. But it wasn't Jake anymore.

"Hi there, honey. Missed me?"

Your ears perched up. "Marc?"

"Mhm."

You bit your lip. "You're going to-?"

He made his way over, smirking. "What? Thought after Jake you'd be done? No-ooou, not gonna happen." he flipped you over, making you bend over the bed and pushed you up on your knees.

Marc's eyes roamed over your body, landing on your pussy seeing the wetness from Jake's handiwork still there.

His hands roamed your back, waist and hips before landing on your butt, squeezing firmly. "Fuck you had really no idea what you made us go through?" he asked, sounding as if he genuinely wanted to know.

"You could have stopped anytime, you know?"

"Yeah but you challenged us. And we don't shy away from a good challenge when we know what's our reward going to be."

You couldn't help but chuckle. "Geez."

"Baby it's going to be like thanksgiving for you. But you're the turkey getting stuffed." He slapped your cheek, marking it up with a faint handprint.

"Who's doing the stuffing?" you teased.

Marc's eyebrows shot up, he leaned down until his lips brushed your ear. "Oh honey. You're about to get stuffed up so good and in the end get devoured."

He ground himself against your ass, you could feel his soft cock hardening once more. The way his clothed shaft rubbed against you just right made you go all fuzzy.

"Fuck, sweetheart, sorry but I can't fucking wait." Marc rasped, quickly pulling his pants down, stroking himself until he was fully hard again and pressed the tip against your still wet pussy. He pushed inside in one swift thrust until he was fully sheathed.

You gasped at his thickness entering you so suddenly.

"F-f-fuck, I missed this so much." his eyes rolled back into his skull at finally feeling you again after so long.

His hand moved to your spine, encouraging you to arch your back for better access. He set a steady pace, increasing it step by step.

Marc couldn't keep his control up for long though, your insides felt like heaven to him, he don't want to cum, he wants to keep pounding into you until you're a broken mess.

But his thrusting increased heavily, the grip on your hips thightened with almost every thrust before he released them to slow his thrusts, grinding his hips slowly against you to regain his control.

"Mmh, fuck you just feel so fucking good." He bit his lip hard enough to almost make it bleed while looking down at you.

Your pussy at this point was so slippy, Marc nearly thought he'd broke your insides somehow. But he loved the feeling.

"Listen if you wanna cum, you better do it now before I choose to fuck this pussy into oblivion." he threatened, squeezing your ass cheeks firmly while he was hammering into you, desperate for his release.

Your poor pussy couldn't take any more of this, your orgasm hit you so hard you were on the verge of passing out.

"Oh god- oh fuck!" Marc groaned deeply, his cock throbbing inside you before he released his cum into you.

Panting, Marc pulled out, running a hand through his hair and face and sitting down next to you on the bed.

You looked like a fucked out mess and Steven didn't even had his round with you.

"Okay I need a drink. Need one too?" He breathed out.

You huffed, your mind was as blank as it could possible be. "Later." you smiled.

Marc nodded, getting up to leave your room to get a drink while you were still in the same position - ass pushed up on your knees, overstimulated with Marc's cum leaking out of you and nearly falling asleep.

After Marc had his ice cold refreshment, he made his way back to your room, expecting you to be out cold.

But you're not out cold yet, only about to when he entered again, padding softly over to you and running his warm hand soothingly over your back.

"Marc?"

"Hiya, love." Steven introduced himself lovingly despite his inner need to to devour you.

Steven gently turned you around on your back, seeing your messy face and getting a good view of your fucked out pussy. Beautiful.

"Gonna clean you up now, yeah?" he simply said, kneeling down between your legs.

Before you could question him, he dived his head in and latched his greedy mouth onto your pussy, not caring about slurping up Marc's load aswell.

"God, I couldn't wait to get my mouth back to your cunt, love." he moaned around you, the vibrations making you lose it despite already having had two orgasms.

Steven's tongue dipped into you all the way, already raising up your pleasure once more. Your hands found their way to his head, your fingers ran through his curls while Steven ate you up like he was seconds away from starving.

That's what Marc meant by getting devoured like you were some turkey getting served on thanksgiving. Marc and Jake only did the stuffing, now Steven is going to devour their meal.

Steven felt himself getting hard, his hand slipped inside his pants to jerk off while devouring you.

Normally Steven was able to eat you out without jerking off, but now, after that stupid challenge it was impossible for him not to.

He loved loved the way you tugged on his hair everytime he hit a spot with his tongue, loving how desperate you were for another orgasm.

While Steven continued his tongue swirling on you, you felt the familiar knot build up, your moans getting needy, letting Steven know you're close.

But he was close too by the time you were, his hand had squeezed around his girth to mimic your pussy before he suddenly stood up, looking down at you with his mouth glistening in your juices and his curls a mess.

"You taste heavenly, love. So, so delicious. But I need t' feel you 'round me."

His cock was already free, leaking precum as he positioned himself between your legs.

Needy Steven speared your pussy on his cock right away, desperate to feel your tightness around him.

"Oh god, fuck- almost forgot how your cunt's feelin'!" he grunted, his hips slamming into yours, getting lost in the feeling.

Your hips bucked into him, chasing your imminent orgasm once more, Steven's fingers digged into your flesh, his cock was ready to explode inside you.

Both of you shared a mutual orgasm, your pussy clamped down just as he released his load into you.

After Steven pulled out, he collapsed down on the bed beside you. Both of you panting from the intense experience.

"Holy shit," Steven panted. "love, now if you know what's good f' you, you better not make us accept some stupid no sex challenge."

You laughed.

"Oi, 'm serious. You were extremely lucky Marc and I didn't lash out on you."

"Yeah I know." you smacked his shoulder playfully.

"We're definitely not made for those challenges."

You giggled. "Mhm, all three of you belong into horny jail."

Steven glared at you, a dirty smirk on his face.

[azrielbrainrot]

I Laugh Like Me Again... She Laughs Like You - Part 8

Pairing: Azriel x F!Reader

Description: You struggle to come to terms with your supposed death, everything you've had and everything you've lost, all the blood that stains your hands, a mating bond, and most importantly, finding your place in the world after all of it.

Warnings: Feelings of depression, suicide ideation, a hint of social anxiety and agoraphobia, awful self image, all around angst sorry, some depictions of violence

Word Count: 6860

Notes: I actually got a little too lost in my head writing this chapter but it ended up being somewhat cathartic writing my feelings through someone else's. It ended up taking me longer than expected to finish this part though, I'm sorry for the wait. Hope you enjoy!

Part 7

You can feel him sitting by your door. Even if the deafening mating bond weren't screaming in elation at his proximity, the enhanced senses you've exhausted yourself training for in that Gods forsaken guild would have let you know. You don't deserve any of it. Not his worry, not his loyalty or his love, certainly not the bond. Maybe you had, a long time ago, but that female was ripped away from you, from him.

The shadowsinger probably paints a tragic picture. Sitting on the cold floor, back against the closed, heavy door, hunched over his own body, powerful wings laying by his sides, waiting for a selfish mate who will not open the door no matter how much he pleads or how long he waits, who can barely bring herself to get out of bed, let alone face the male whose life she brought nothing but ruin and heartache.

Ever since Rhys tore down the walls keeping your memories away, there has been a war raging inside you, one in which there will be no victors. It has been eating you away from the inside. You feel like two people have lived in this body before, led completely different lives, and have now abandoned it for you to deal with the scraps and somehow put the pieces back together.

It's almost impossible to keep up with the passing of time as you are. Weeks, maybe even months could have passed since that day. There was a sense of relief when the walls first came crumbling down, even happiness when you saw Azriel and recognized him as the male you loved beyond words, but everything else rushed into your mind the next moment and rendered you speechless.

One moment you had been sitting in Azriel's lap, and in the next the breath was knocked out of your lungs, and a deep ache spread over your body. It felt like your entire being was on fire and drowning at the same time as you saw numerous people die at your hands. It felt foreign, you felt foreign. You started clawing at your own skin, trying to get that hateful person out, ripping your flesh apart desperately. You don't remember what happened next, though you vaguely recall Azriel's anguished screams. Rhys had probably come and rendered you unconscious, effectively calming you down and giving you what must have been the last peaceful night of sleep since then.

You don't know who you are anymore. You can't be sure if you ever did. All those years ago, when you married Azriel, you thought you knew exactly who you were, what your values and aspirations were, how you'd spend your life. You had plans and dreams. It all feels like one giant, heartbreakingly realistic fantasy now, like that life in itself was an idealistic dream.

Looking back now, you know you had simply been sheltered. You had led a privileged life, protected by your parents when they were alive and then by Azriel. Because the person you so easily became when Norris took you had to be living under your skin all along, waiting for an opportunity to show her claws. Someone can't do even half of the things you've done if they had been truly good to begin with. Norris had simply coaxed this hateful, bloodthirsty monster out of you.

Perhaps you should have thanked him before you killed him, if it weren't for him you would have kept living that lie until your last breath. You would have tried tampering it down until you couldn't anymore, until that vile thing ripped open your skin, escaped its bounds and destroyed everything in its path. Would you have hurt Azriel if you had stayed? Killed his entire family in cold blood? The family who took you in like you were one of their own, who were there for you to show you love and happiness when you thought you had lost everything with your parents' deaths.

And what now? Which one were you now, if any at all? You know you're far from the starry eyed female who walked these halls a century ago, arm looped into her loving husband's, who was ready to face any challenge that was put in front of her so long as he stayed by her side. Who dreamt of buying a house and decorating it to both of their tastes, who planned a life by his side down to the last detail. In sickness and in health, in life and in death. What a joke.

The fearless killer was a stranger to you as well. She'd committed atrocities with this body, soaked your hands in blood, but she at least had a purpose, even if she hadn't been the one to find it for herself. The guild trained her, made her strong, and gave her missions. Her life had some sort of meaning, one even she wasn't proud of, no matter how many times she forced herself to emulate her handler, swallow down the guilt that threatened to eat her whole, but a meaning nonetheless. When she eventually snapped she would become one of the few who had been stupid enough to try and escape the guild, maybe even try to paint her blade with Norris' blood. That alone would have meant something, if only a whispered rumor across the guild's low ranks in between missions.

All you were now was a ghost. Slowly fading into the wallpaper, sinking into the bed. Spending your days staring into space, consumed by your own betraying thoughts, suffering through your nights as nightmares reigned free inside your brain. The worst part is they weren't simply nightmares. They were memories, your memories. You had lived through every single haunting image being shown to you. The blood coating your body, covering you in a sickenly metallic smell, had been spilled by your masterful blade, and you had walked away from every single one of those lifeless bodies, leaving them behind without a care as you searched for your handler once more, giving him news of yet another successful mission and awaiting a new one, a new life for you to take.

A sudden knock on the door brings you back to the present, somewhat. Your head turning to face the door, the first movement in a while judging by the ache that follows it. The knock had been soft, careful not to startle you - he's always so careful with you, even after everything, - but in the deafening silence of the room, it still echoed, making your headache worse.

Azriel calls your name, the way the syllables escape his lips sending a shiver down your spine. Even in this state the bond finds a way to make itself known, reminding you of the connection between the two of you, as if you could ever forget.

“I know you can hear me,” he murmurs. You can hear how defeated he is, how sad you've made him once again. It's all your fault, it's always your fault. “Like I told you yesterday, I'm here for you. I will help you through anything as long as you let me, as long as you want me by your side.”

He pauses for a moment, in case you'll give him a response for once. You envy his hope. If you had the courage to hope for even a second maybe you would have called out his name and invited him in, let him hold you in his warm embrace, and make it better, but hope had died along with you and you didn't know how to get it back, didn't know if you wanted to.

A pained sigh escapes him, resigning himself, for the night at least. “I'll come back tomorrow, and every day after that. I promise I will be here when you need me.” You hear him swallow, can feel him trying to steady his voice and keep strong for you in a time when you can't find any strength in yourself. “I love you, more than anything.”

His soft steps retreat, slowly dragging his body away from your door so he can go into his own room and lay in his own empty bed, far away from the wife who he thought he had just gotten back after a century but can't bring herself to even look at him.

The bond screams in your chest, a piercing sound that could make your ears bleed at its intensity. A tear escapes your unblinking eye, running down your skin until it loses its path as it reaches your ear, ultimately falling into the mattress. And still you don't move.

You study the lifeless body in front of you, inspecting the female's beautiful kohl lined brown eyes as they stare right at you unblinking. Listening for the sound of her breath or heartbeat, a sound you know will not come, never again. She had on an elegant silk dress, it was once a shade of green, now tainted with red. She was probably going to meet someone - her friends or her lover, maybe her family. Whoever it was wouldn't see her again, would only be left with bittersweet memories.

Reaching over her, you pull the blade still stuck in her chest out in one smooth, heartless movement. As you go to clean the blood off so you can put it away and escape, you take note of the knife in your hand, frowning down at it as you study the hilt, too intricate to belong to your standard knives. There was even a blue gem encrusted on it, you had never seen let alone owned anything like this.

Looking up, you find strangely familiar hazel eyes staring at you, unblinking as that female's had been. Your eyes travel to the knife in your hand once again as your brain races to keep up with the situation. It's coated in blood, you hadn't wiped it yet, so were your hands, there was so much blood. Your breath catches in your throat when you find a wedding ring around your finger, the blue gem shining under the moonlight.

The knife falls from your hands. Tears cloud your vision, a broken sob escaping you. Azriel. The corpse in front of you belonged to Azriel. You killed him. You killed your husband, your mate. It was all your fault.

You open your eyes with a gasping breath as if you'd been stuck under water. The image of your dead mate refusing to leave your mind as tears keep running down your cheeks, chest rising and falling as if you'd been physically running from this nightmare. It takes you quite a while to fully come to and realize where you were - sitting up in your bed, and not in an empty alley with a dead body at your feet.

It takes you even longer to notice you were not alone anymore. Wide eyes find teary, hazel ones searching your face frantically. As soon as you see him, it becomes impossible to ignore the way his rough hands hold you up, the soothing words he whispers even when he himself looks terrified

Unlike in that awful nightmare, Azriel stood before you breathing. He was blinking, and his heart was beating. Azriel was alive. He was right in front of you and he was alive. You hadn't killed him. The realization finally allows you to catch your breath, the weight at the base of your skull subsiding as you repeat the words over and over in your mind, counting the beats of his heart as you did.

The relief was short-lived though. The reminder that you had stabbed him in real life not so differently from how it happened in your dream making you reel back, back crashing into the headboard hard enough that it almost knocked the wind out of you, his hands dropping from their comforting grip on your head, the heartbroken expression on his face intensifying.

You're both frozen like that for a few seconds, your wide eyes watching his every movement as he stood kneeling down in front of you, hands stuck in the same place like you hadn't moved from under them. Even in the midst of all the chaos taking your mind hostage, you noticed the fear in his eyes. Was he afraid of you? He should be. Though you're not so sure that was the case since he tried reaching for you again as soon as he was pulled out of his stupor.

It makes you recoil even further into the headboard, a sob escaping you, recalling the image of his lifeless body playing in your dream and the way his blood stained your skin in the townhouse only a few weeks ago.

Tears flow down your cheeks with a new vigor when he calls out your name, an heartbreaking sound. You remember how much you loved to hear him whisper your name in that low, sweet timbre of his. It makes your chest tighten uncomfortably, until you can barely breathe now.

“Please leave,” you manage to push out.

“Wait.”

“You can't be here.”

Wrapping your arms around your legs, you hope he listens. You can't hurt him anymore than you already have, couldn't bear to live with yourself if you did, and for that you need him to go, need him to be out of your tainting reach.

“Please, my love. Let me take care of you,” he begs, his own tears escaping freely now.

My love. The way he says it so carefully, so sure of himself makes you sob harder. You don't deserve his love, his attention or care, you never did. And he doesn't deserve any of this pain, so you need him to go, you have to push him away.

“I can't…” Why are the words so hard to say? Why can't you just tell him to go and never come back? “Please,” you manage through a sob, an ugly sound in the back of your throat, hiding your face in your knees.

Azriel closes his eyes, salty tears running down his heartbroken face. He tightens his grip on the sheets for a moment, hard enough that his knuckles turn white. Telling himself to stay, or maybe forcing himself to accept your dismissal.

“I'll go,” he whispers out after a while, opening his eyes at last, defeated, “but if you need me just call out and I'll be back in a heartbeat, alright?”

You don't answer him, your entire concentration going into keeping your eyes off him. Trying desperately to push not only the haunting nightmare down, but also the mating bond, who demanded you seek comfort from your mate while you were trying so hard to push him away.

He gets up slowly, dragging his feet as he walks to the door, looking back at you multiple times as if he can't bear to leave you alone like this, as if begging you to call him back, but you've made your decision and you won't call out to him no matter how desperate you are.

“I was thinking it would be a good idea to bring you up to Rhys' cabin for a few days. You can stay in your room or go outside on your own, and I promise you won't even have to see me if you don't want to,” Azriel explains tentatively through the closed door. “It wouldn't be much different from being here except you could take in the fresh air of the mountain. You always used to love it up there, said it helped you think more clearly.”

This conversation hadn't come out of nowhere and it certainly wasn't entirely about a simple change of scenery - though you wouldn't be surprised if it doubled as a way of trying to get out of this room if nothing else. They were unsure about keeping you in this house, in Velaris even. You overheard part of their discussion on the subject, the tricks you've learned at the guild proving themselves useful at least as you approached the room without them noticing.

You had been curious when you felt most of the inner circle's presence in the house. For a moment, you had even panicked, thinking they would try to talk to you, maybe a form of intervention, but when it was clear they would all keep their distance, you couldn't stop yourself from eavesdropping on their conversation. You had already known it would be about you, or maybe the guild, for them to gather up in the House of Wind.

Given your current apathy and insistence on distancing yourself from everyone, they were worried about keeping you so high up in the mountain. No one had actually said the words, but the implication was clear, - if you so wished, all you had to do was open the window and let yourself fall through the wind, finding your sweet release as you crashed into the ground. And, even with some of their vehement denials, it was painfully obvious that they were all scared of it becoming a reality.

They had moved onto the topic of moving you off Velaris as well, almost at Azriel's insistence. They thought the city could be too suffocating for you since you seemed to want to be alone with your thoughts. And so the idea of moving you to the cabin for a while came up at Feyre's suggestion. You zoned out when they started trying to decide on the best way to bring it up to you, knowing you would refuse the offer no matter how it was brought up. The thought of making the trip there was exhausting on its own.

Azriel's shadows had definitely noticed you spying on the inner circle. You saw them swirling by your hiding spot in the hallway multiple times, lingering for a moment before moving closer to the door. You can't be sure if they had not alerted their singer out of their own volition, or if he had chosen to let you hear the conversation.

You knew he would be more than happy for you to step into the office and speak for yourself, but you barely had to give it any thought to decide against it. You didn't see the point in it. They were right about your lack of will to be alive. You genuinely couldn't bring yourself to care if you were in this house or the next, in Velaris or on the other side of the world, if they were the ones to decide it or not so long as they left you alone.

Truthfully, you didn't quite see the point in living either, and at the same time killing yourself felt like too much of a hassle. Not to mention that Azriel wouldn't survive your death this time, and hurting him was the last thing you wanted to do. Just the thought sent the bond into disarray, a weight growing in your chest and taking your breath away.

You hadn't spoken more than a few sentences to Azriel in all the weeks you've been here so you obviously haven't told him about the bond. The downside of that is that you don't know if he's felt it himself either. He has been devoted to you to say the least, but he always had, even before you died. Azriel always treated you like you were his entire world.

As if processing all your memories wasn't enough, the bond had somehow made things even more complicated. Every happy memory of the two of you together sent the bond almost vibrating with joy, pushing you to go and see him when all you wanted to do was disappear in this room. It makes you feel like you're not fully in charge of your body, just as it felt like watching back your memories at the guild.

“What do you think?”

His voice brings you back to the present once more. Your eyes finding the closed door, imagining him leaning against it on the other side, forehead leaning against the dark, carved wood, praying for an answer he knows won't come.

You consider saying something, to at least let him know you wanted to stay here just as you were, but your body wasn't agreeing with you, refusing to move or form out the words even if you were asking it to. You knew it would be better to refuse his offer, not only because you knew he wouldn't force you to leave if you told him you didn't want to, but also because hearing you speak after so long could lessen their worries, his worries. Still, you couldn't force yourself to even move your mouth.

Azriel lets out a sigh, that heartbreakingly defeated sound you've grown so used to, taking your silence as an answer. You hear him swallow, pushing back the tears and the heaviness you could almost feel in your own heart.

“It's alright,” he breathes out, “Just let me know if you change your mind.”

Alright. You were starting to grow a distaste for the word. How could it be alright when you've done nothing but hurt him? You disappeared on him for decades on decades, making him think you were dead while you were off killing people for money. Only to come back and try to steal from Rhys, stab him and then ignore him after they helped you recover your memories. He has been sitting at your doorstep multiple hours a day for weeks without getting as much as an answer. How is any of this alright?

You wish he would just forget about you. Maybe then you wouldn't feel so guilty for all you've done.

If it weren't for the magic pumping through this house your bath would have been freezing cold by now. The perfectly warm, lavender scented water the House provided almost pissed you off, and so did the oils and balms it presented you, urging you to take care of yourself when it was the last thing on your mind.

You've spent hours in the ostentatious tub, scrubbing your skin raw. Desperately trying to get rid of the disgust you felt every time you looked down at your own hands, always finding them covered in blood no matter how many times you washed them. Some things can't be washed out with anything, and you can't undo the things you've done.

After wishing to recover your memories so fiercely, you can't believe you find yourself wishing you could forget everything all over again, the happy and awful ones alike. Every time you remember your short marriage with Azriel, you end up reminding yourself of all the things you've done, of how much you didn't deserve even a second of the happiness he brought you during those years.

You remember when Azriel confided in you about the guilt he felt for the things he's done. You'd always soothe him as best as you could, thinking you could understand how he feels, telling him you'd always love him no matter what. It makes you cringe just to think how naive you were.

Everything Azriel had done had been by the High Lord's orders - unfortunately including Rhysand's father - but, whether it was the best solution or not, it was all for the good of the Night Court and its people. And even then you couldn't have imagined what that burden felt like on his back. You had fought before, helped them keep the court safe, but had hardly ever killed anyone, only getting that far when it was strictly necessary.

Now you had lost count of how many people's lives had ended by your hand, or you wish you had at least. Your nightmares insist on showing you every single person, one after the other playing incessantly in your mind. Now you know what it felt like to be on the other end of the conversation.

Letting out a sigh, you submerge yourself underwater, hoping to drown out your thoughts for even a moment. You almost felt bored today, which shouldn't come as a surprise since you've done virtually nothing in weeks, but given your current disposition it certainly was something new. It almost makes you wish you had accepted Azriel's offer of taking you up to Rhys' cabin though you still weren't sure you could make the trip there. The only way to leave this house was by having someone fly you down, which is probably why they keep you here in the first place.

It could be completely unrelated to your mood, but Azriel hadn't come by today. He warned you there was something important he needed to do when he left the night before. He rarely leaves your side these days, always sitting by your door or in the room next to yours, keeping his promise of being a simple shout away, so you know it had to be about the guild or the general safety of Velaris for Rhys to actually manage to convince him to stay longer than a few hours away from you.

Curiosity got the best of you, asking the question out loud while he was informing you through the door before you could stop yourself. He didn't answer right away, probably too surprised at hearing your voice after weeks of silence, so you didn't even realize you had asked it out loud at first.

When the shock wore off, he told you there were some suspicious movements close to the Hewn City, the smile noticeable in his voice despite the safety threat he was describing. Routine checks like these never took him too long, and with the added situation you were in, he would likely be back by the early hours of the morning.

You couldn't call them conversations at all, but hearing Azriel talk to you, sometimes to tell you about his day, telling you old stories or even new ones, the important moments you've missed in recent years, helped you not feel so empty somehow. As much as you were desperately trying to distance yourself and lay forgotten alone in this room, the fact that he wouldn't allow you to do it brought you a sense of relief.

These feelings were too confusing, wanting complete opposite things like this. You needed to be alone, were always just shy of a panic attack when you so much as caught a glimpse of anyone or heard their voice, but it was starting to feel like you still wanted them to reach out a hand dispute it all.

Your lungs start to burn after being left with no air for so long. You consider just letting it run out, put yourself out of this misery, but your hands reach for the sides of the tub, pulling yourself out of the water, air filling your lungs once again, chest rising and falling as you catch your breath. Even this you couldn't do right.

Getting out of the tub and cleaning yourself off with a fluffy towel, you move to walk out into the bedroom, but hesitate for a moment, glancing at the calming oils the house left you on top of the counter. You've scrubbed at your skin so much it's irritated and slightly itchy, the oil could help soothe it so you didn't end up scratching at yourself all night.

One of the oils smelled like lavender too, so maybe with a little luck and nothing else disturbing you, it would help you relax enough for you to get at least a few hours of sleep without any unwanted nightmares waking you up right away. You felt exhausted down to the bone, and wanted nothing more than a little dreamless peace, so you picked up the oil for once.

Sitting cross-legged on the floor, you search through the closet, finding it full of your old things. There was more than what Azriel had shown you before, when you still couldn't recognize any of them, a lot more in fact, it looked like he hardly got rid of anything. There were also things the rest of your friends must have saved from that time.

You hadn't stopped to think about what happened to everything you owned when you died, too consumed with every other thought. It seems everyone ended up keeping a piece of you for themselves, Azriel keeping as much as he could, desperately so.

Rummaging through the boxes, you pick up a necklace Cassian had bought for you as a Solstice present. It was simple in nature, but the blue stone hanging from it was absolutely gorgeous. He had been very proud of this find, and later that night Azriel had told you all about how he had begged Mor to help him get something special for you, since he wasn't too good at buying gifts for people but wanted your first Solstice with Azriel to go without a single misstep.

The necklace holds a nostalgic weight as you put it around your neck, letting it sit as you look through the rest of your things. There was a lot more jewelry in these boxes since you always had a love for shiny things, and Rhysand didn't have any sort of restraint when it came to his money. Once he had bought you an entire collection of gold, sapphire encrusted jewelry for Solstice, one that would have embarrassed you had you not given him an extremely rare cologne that same night. You even had to employ the help of Azriel's shadows to find it. Finding gifts for the High Lord was always an adventure.

Picking up one of the many decorated daggers the inner circle, including your mate, had gifted you over the years, you find it's the first dagger Amren gave you. It hadn't been a solstice or birthday gift, she had simply decided you needed it after an attack. You had more than enough daggers, even more if you went through Azriel's collection, but her giving it to you was a sign that she cared, in her own way. You had almost started crying in Azriel's arms when you realized the ancient, terrifying creature cared about you later that night.

Most of your expensive clothes seemed to be hanging in this closet as well, and almost all had either been gifted by Mor or you had bought them when you were shopping together. You wonder for a second if any of the old stores you used to visit were still open. You're also not entirely sure if you'd like any of the things you used to, dressing in color felt foreign to you now.

Even from your position on the ground, you knew the carefully wrapped dress hanging in the closet had to be your wedding dress, the thought making your mouth go dry. You thumb at your ring finger unconsciously, finding it empty. You had lost your wedding ring, Azriel couldn't have kept it since you had it on when you died. You find yourself wishing you still had it, as undeserving as you were of something so special.

Memories of the ceremony rush into your head, bringing tears to your eyes, it truly had been the happiest day of your life. You wonder if you would have still married him if you had known what was to come. Selfishly, you think you would.

You have to tear your eyes away from the garment, making your way through the boxes sitting at the bottom of the dresser once more to distract yourself. There were so many random things in here, even bookmarks and cookie cutters. He truly has kept anything that reminded him of you.

In the middle of it is sitting a dandelion preserved in resin. Azriel had given it to you when you told him you missed looking at the fields full of them as you sat under the trees when you were a child, finding the most comfortable looking one to take a nap. You used to keep it by your bedside, and looking over to the empty nightstand you think you might start doing it again.

At the bottom of the box were a few letters, a copy of your contract with Rhysand, letters your parents had written, and a few you wrote for Azriel. There was one in particular that came to mind. You search for it, knowing the inscription and date written on the envelope by heart. When you find it among the others, you open it slowly, hands shaking as you do.

You had written this letter for Azriel after he proposed to you, leaving it on his pillow for him to find one night. It had always been easier for you to write your feelings rather than saying them out loud, and so you had decided to do just that, pouring your heart out into the pages.

Reading through it brought tears to your eyes, sobbing silently at her precious feelings. No matter how naive or innocent she was, one thing you can't deny was that her love for Azriel was always real, your love for Azriel. You find yourself agreeing with every word you had written all those years ago, even when you felt unworthy of it. You still loved him as much as you did before, there's no point in denying that.

You don't know how many times you read the letter or for how long you sit on that floor, holding onto the dandelion Azriel immortalized for you, crying at everything you've lost, and everything you still have.

When Azriel comes by that night you find yourself opening the door, only wide enough for you to be able to reach your hand out, but it sets his heart beating dangerously fast nonetheless, the rush of happiness traveling through the bond somehow. You hand him the letter silently, and almost thank the gods when he carefully accepts it without touching you, without question, before closing the door back up.

You've never been good at explaining your feelings, much less when your head is as messy as it is now, but you hope he understands what you want to say with this gesture, you want him to know you still love him, that you always will. Judging by the way he starts audibly crying, much like you had been hours prior, you think he does, and, for the first time in weeks, those sounded like happy tears.

It's hard to say where the sudden courage came from, but your body moves before you have the chance to ignore it or talk yourself out of it. Getting out of bed and almost throwing yourself into the bath, letting the scented wash take away all the lingering cold sweats left behind by yet another nightmare.

Drying yourself off, and throwing on one of the dresses Mor had left for you quickly. She truly knew you well, even this warped version of you. The black dress was simple enough, although somehow too intricate for the dinner you were about to interrupt at the time, but it was beautiful.

She had come by your room not long ago, calling out your name softly, but unfortunately still scaring you in the process, unused to company as you were. The obvious panic shown by your heartbeat made her pause for a moment but it didn't completely deter her as she left a bag full of new clothes at your door, lingering only long enough to write out a note explaining she wanted you to have some updated clothes before going on her way, understanding you didn't wish to see or talk to anyone while holding out hope that you would one day.

You had waited for her to leave the house entirely before opening the door hesitatingly, and picking up the bag quickly, reading the note as well back in the comfort of your room. The kiss she left on the note, marked by her red lipstick, was so much like Mor that it made you cry.

That was the last time you had opened this door, and as your hand finds the doorknob you hesitate, heart beating so loud you think it might jump out of your chest. It takes you entirely too long to go through with it, but a loud, boisterous laugh coming from downstairs allows some of your courage to return.

Descending the stairs slowly, step by step, slowly putting one foot in front of the other, simultaneously trying to not make any noise and telling yourself you could do this. When you get closer to the dining room, close enough that you could hear them talking and find Azriel's shadows lazing around along the walls, you hesitate once more.

They sounded happy and you would only ruin the mood with your presence. Those thoughts quickly consume you, and almost make you turn around, but as one of his shadows suddenly passes you, sliding into the room to warn Azriel of your arrival, you round the corner and take the last few steps, walking into the room and facing the other three residents of this house.

Cassian stands up immediately at your presence, your name leaving his lips in surprise as he studies you with wide eyes. His familiar lack of subtlety almost brings a smile to your lips. You think it did at first, only to raise your hand and find your mouth set in the same line it had been stuck in for weeks, the muscles still unused, but you still stayed.

They were all frozen in place, as if scared that if they made any sudden movement it would send you back running to your room, and, truthfully, it probably would. Everyone's eyes are now on you, every single one of your instincts is telling you to turn back around, and you're still here. Maybe you can actually do this.

“I…” Your voice falters, you couldn't be sure when it was the last time you had used it. “I thought I could join you for dinner today.”

No one answers right away, still watching you as if they couldn't believe you were really standing there. You shift your weight from one foot to the other, closing your hands into fists, hard enough that your nails bite into the palms of your hands, the pain keeping you present in the moment. You wanted to approach the table, but felt entirely too exposed.

Nesta is the first to break out of the spell, grabbing onto Cassian's arm and pulling him back down into his chair, making you let out a sigh of relief. As soon as his butt finds the chair, Azriel also shakes himself out of his surprise, a blinding smile trying to fight its way into his lips while he attempts to act normally. His shadows all disperse to different corners of the room as he lets out a breath, one that seems to come from deep within him.

“Of course you can,” he answers at last. He comes up to your room and talks to you every day, but hearing it unmuffled by the door, his eyes locked on yours, makes goosebumps appear in your arms. It also sends you walking to the table, choosing the seat at the top instead of the empty one next to Azriel. One step at a time.

A bowl of soup appears in front of you as soon as you sit down. The worst part was over, you reminded yourself. Now you just have to sit and eat, let them get lost in their conversations and just push through. It takes them a moment to understand your feelings, but once again Nesta seems to read you like an open book, starting their conversation back up and forcing them to follow.

You hadn't eaten all day if you remembered correctly, but your appetite was the last thing on your mind, having to almost force yourself to finish the soup, as was the usual these days. It was also hard to keep track of their conversation as you kept repeating encouraging words in your head and ordered your limbs to keep moving, entirely too aware of your every movement.

They tried to be subtle, but every once in a while you could also feel their side glances at you. You never met their eyes though, staring into your soup as if it was the most interesting thing you've ever seen in your life.

Azriel's shadows seemed to be your biggest supporters, lazing around under your feet as if reminding you that you weren't alone. They were easier to deal with that Azriel himself for now, but as an extension of him, it felt like having him close.

You hardly say another word during the whole ordeal, the air so awkward it almost made you want run away multiple times, but you stay until you finish your food, and when you go back to your room, excusing yourself quickly, you're incredibly proud of yourself. Azriel tells you as much when he visits one last time before sleep as well, a warmth spreading in your chest at the words. Maybe all wasn't completely lost yet.

[cheollipop]

lovesick

navi | taglist

pairing: choi san x fem!reader

w.c.: 2.6k

tags: smut, fluff, san is in LOVE

back-to-back schedules meant san barely had any time to eat, let alone see you. after feeling your skin against his for the first time in weeks, he couldn't hold himself back anymore.

warnings: a smidge of plot, softest dom!san, high stamina!san (like crazy high), praise, dry humping, cunnilingus, face sitting, unprotected sex (wrap it up kids), multiple orgasms, creampie, breeding/impregnation kink, overstimulation, nicknames (sannie; baby, pretty, love, darling...), dirty talk, aftercare

A/N: this is dedicated to @toxicccred <33 I have not been able to stop thinking about lovesick sannie since we last talked about it, so I really hope you enjoy this! ^^ no but seriously, this had me feeling some typa way. the delulu came out for this one oof...

nsfw under the cut - minors dni!! 🔞

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I'll be home soon.

11:38pm, read the timestamp.

You eyed the clock on the wall across from you, the small arrow pointing to three. San was late at practice, and you struggled to keep your eyes open to greet him when he eventually walked through the front door. You hadn't seen him in over two weeks, his schedule packed with his new comeback coming up.

Lying down on the couch, your body succumbed to its exhaustion.

You startled awake, unaware that you had fallen asleep in the first place, when they front door clicked shut, making out a blurry San toeing off his shoes. He noticed your figure – half-sitting down on the soft cushions, eyes squinting to make him out in the dark room – and gave you an apologetic smile, a whispered sorry breaking through the silence. You got up, walking towards him and wrapping your arms around his figure without saying a word. He quickly reciprocated, engulfing you in his warmth and eagerly fisting his hands in your shirt, drawing you closer to him. You inhaled the scent of an unfamiliar body wash, his wet strands an indicator of the shower he took before coming to you.

"I've missed you, Sannie," you mumbled against the warm skin of his neck while he peppered the side of your face with soft kisses.

"Me too," he muttered between presses of his lips against every patch of skin available to him. "So much." He cupped your cheeks, moving your face back to admire it with fond eyes. "But I'm here now."

San pressed his lips to yours, your head jerking backwards at the momentum. He pulled away just as quickly, bringing you closer to his body again, nuzzling his nose into your hair. Your chests were flush together, rising and falling at the same rate. You placed a line of kisses over his exposed collarbone, your palms rubbing comforting circles over San's back, scratching at the skin and eliciting pleasant hums from the man.

You felt something begin to poke at your hip and you pulled away slightly to look down. Your cheeks flushed at the sight of the forming tent in San's sweatpants making a bridge between your bodies. You looked up at him, eyes still bleary with sleep.

"San?"

His cheeks were coated with a bright red, eyes looking anywhere and everywhere but you, nervously fiddling his fingers at his waist.

"I just- I missed you s-so much," his pout muffled his words, his gaze flitting over to you before stepping closer and burying his face into the crook of your neck. "I-I couldn't help it, I'm sorry."

His hips slowly rolled against your hipbone – perhaps involuntarily – and you could feel the familiar tingle of arousal rushing through your body. You grabbed onto his shoulders, trying to pull him away to look at his face, but he didn't budge, the rate at which his hips were moving now relentless while he panted against your ear.

"San, let me-"

"Please, (Y/n). I couldn't stop thinking about you all day, I had to rub one out in the bathroom between schedules – a-ahh – b-because I was so excited to finally see you," he turned his head to rest against your shoulder, looking up at you from the corner of his vision. His hands grabbed at your hips, moving them to match his continuous ruts against you. "We don't need to do anything, just – ah – I'll finish s-soon. Please, can I just-"

San's lips parted, breathing out airy, needy moans onto the side of your neck before attaching his lips to the skin and nipping at it. You leaned down, cupping San's cheek and bringing your mouth to his, lazily moving your lips together while he desperately rutted against your hip like a bitch in heat.

"Sannie, I want you too," you whispered against his lips, watching his eyes glaze over as they took in the redness of your cheeks.

One of your hands reached down to his ass, grabbing at the clothed skin and urging him to thrust harder against you. He groaned into your neck as he came, his hips stuttering while his body shuddered against you, his release soaking through his clothes and darkening the material around his crotch.

Breathing heavily while he recovered from his orgasm, San's hands gently wrapped around the sides of your neck, his thumbs caressing the skin under your ears. He placed a few fleeting kisses to your lips, pushing his hips back into your palm as you squeezed at the flesh of his ass.

"Your turn."

--

San's fingers dug into your hips, bringing you further down on his face. Your hand stumbled to grab onto the armrest above San's head where he laid horizontally on the couch, your thighs shaking around his face as he pulled orgasm after orgasm out of you with his tongue.

"San, wait-"

He pulled at your hips again, his tongue placing kitten licks against your swollen clit. "Sit down properly."

"I don't want to hurt you," your knees dug into the cushions, your body curling in on itself as San brought you to the edge of yet another high.

"I can take it." His eyes fluttered open to look at you, his hands bringing you down fully over his face, your thighs squeezing against his temples. "There you go," he whispered against your dripping folds, his tongue licking up from your pulsing hole to your clit, before running his teeth over it and watching you whimper as a shiver ran through your body.

San flattened his tongue against your clit and your hips began to move on their own to ride his face, chasing your second orgasm of the night.

"Ah, Sannie. Fuck," your thighs tensed around his head, his tongue lapping at your pussy like it was his first meal of the day, humming pleasantly as he swallowed up your sweet arousal.

"Taste so good… I could eat your pretty pussy all day," he muttered against your clit, your body jolting every time his lips pressed against it. "Can you give me one more, sweetheart?"

You shook your head, lifting your hips off San's face. He reluctantly let you go, watching as you slid down his chest to straddle his hips, his bottom lip jutting out to form a pout.

"Want your cock," you breathed out, still recovering from your orgasm.

San's eyebrows shot up, nodding his head like a madman, his eyes rolling to the back of his head when you ran your dripping folds over his cock, standing red and angry against his belly. You shuddered when he brushed against your clit, moaning against his skin before taking one of his nipples into your mouth, running circles around it with your tongue while tweaking the other between two fingers.

"Fuck, (Y/n), please just- please fuck me already," he moaned, his eyes teary and pleading as you continued to roll your hips against him. "Please don't tease me, baby, your teasing is like torture. Please. I want you so bad, I feel like I'm losing my mind."

He withstood two more glides of your pussy against his throbbing length before wrapping an arm around your waist and flipping you over, hovering over you while his other hand lined him up with your entrance. "Can I? Please, please, please-"

"Yeah, fuck me good, baby," you answered hastily, grabbing at his biceps for support when he finally breached your fluttering hole.

"Fuuuck, my pretty baby, so tight for me," his hand grabbed the underside of your thigh, opening you up for him to shove his entire length into you in one go, his pelvis flush with yours. "A-ahh, taking me s-so well," he stuttered when your walls clenched around him, adjusting to the stretch.

You brought one hand down to San's ass, grabbing a handful of the flesh and urging his hips to move. San groaned into your neck, licking a stripe from your collarbone to your jaw before sucking on the skin under your ear.

His hips began to move, starting with shallow thrusts before drawing more of his length out and stuffing it back into you with a firm thrust, rolling his hips into yours when your pelvises met.

"All I could do these past two weeks was think about you," San brought his lips up to yours, his cock pumping into you and pressing directly against your favourite spot, your head thrown back as bolts of pleasure ran down your spine. "Hongjoong even scolded me yesterday because I kept getting the choreography wrong. Do you know why?" His voice was breathy and jagged as pleasure soared through him with every thrust, your pussy squeezing him so deliciously he was struggling not to fill you up already.

"Uh-uhh," you shook your head, your voice melting into a high-pitched moan when San's hips slowed down to a measured grind, feeling his cock throb inside you where it pressed on the ragged spot along your walls.

"Because I couldn't stop thinking about how badly I wanted to fuck this tight pussy full of my cum," he growled, his hips picked up their pace again, pounding himself into your sopping cunt.

"W-want Sannie's cum," you moaned into his ear, your nails scratching at his back.

San brought his fingers down to your clit, rubbing harsh circles around it. Your back arched, nipples brushing over San's as your orgasm washed over you. Your lips were parted while a drawn-out moan escaped you, your knees shaking and your hips jolting every time San brushed his fingers over your sensitive clit.

He didn't give you time to recover, swiftly flipping you over to lay you flat on your stomach before sheathing himself inside you again.

"S-san!"

"I'm not done with you yet," he pressed his lips against the back of your neck as he pistoned his hips into you, propped up on his forearms by your head.

Your fingers grabbed at the cushion under you, your whole body convulsing as San's cock pounded mercilessly against your g-spot.

"Wait- i-it's too much – hnnnngh," tears flowed freely from your eyes to form a dark spot on the couch under you as pain mixed with pleasure every time he thrusted back into you.

"Give me one more," he took the shell of your ear into his mouth, his body stretching over yours while the sound of skin on skin echoed in the room. "You can do that, can't you? Can my darling cum for me once more?"

He knew he got you when your pussy squeezed around him, a smirk stretching the corner of his mouth before his teeth bit down on your shoulder, his tongue licking over the bite mark he'd left.

"Wanna see you," you slurred, too fucked out to focus on anything but the glide of San's thick cock between your overstimulated walls.

San was quick to change positions, pulling your limp body over his to sit you down on his lap before sliding his length back into you. He set his feet down on the floor, thrusting up into your abused cunt. You threw your head back at the new angle before leaning in to slot your lips against his, wrapping your arms around the width of his shoulders. The kiss was mostly teeth and spit, but neither of you minded, the pleasure shooting through you too intense for either of you to care.

"Gonna fill you up," San muttered against your lips, his fingers gripping your hips so tight he was bound to leave bruises. "Have you full of my cum for days."

You nodded fervently, eyes rolling back when San took your nipple between his lips, giving it a harsh suck. "Want it, w-want it. Please!"

"Yeah?" He smirked, his fringe stuck to his slick forehead, one of his hands coming up to your mouth and shoving two fingers inside. He watched as your lips closed around them, sucking the digits into your mouth and circling your tongue around them. "My baby wants my cum? Want me to make you a mommy? Hm?"

You nodded, letting out muffled moans around his fingers and a series of yes, please, give it to me's as you felt the tingle of your impending orgasm. "W-want to carry Sannie's children," you breathed out, sliding a hand between your bodies to press your palm into your lower belly, feeling the swift glide of San's cock inside you.

San pulled his fingers out of your mouth, bringing them down to your sopping cunt and circling your clit eagerly. His lips parted while throaty moans escaped him freely at the feeling of you rubbing his cock from the outside.

"H-hah- a-ahh, San, I'm so- I'm going to-"

"Go ahead, my love," San rubbed calming circles over your back, bringing you closer to his chest as waves of mind-numbing pleasure rushed through you – your legs shook around him, loud moans spilling out of your swollen lips, your eyes blown wide. "That's it, cum for me."

The tight squeeze of your walls around his throbbing cock was enough to send him over the edge with you, throwing his head back as he spilled rope after rope of cum into your cunt. "Fuuuuuck- take my cum, baby, take all of it," he shuddered as he came. San stilled his thrusts, allowing you to rock your hips over his cock, riding out your highs together with soft moans and grunts into the other's skin.

Your hips ceased their movement, your pussy warming his cock while he continued to spurt his seed into you. It was so much. You felt so full – you actually believed you would get pregnant.

San wrapped you up in his arms, bringing you closer while he peppered your face with kisses before tucking you into his chest.

"I love you," you whispered, placing a tender kiss on his collarbone.

San smiled, his eyes forming nearly-perfect crescents. "I love you so, so much, my darling. My pretty (Y/n)."

San squeezed his arms around you once before releasing you. He secured his hands under your thighs before getting up, giggling at your surprised yelp while he carried you with him to the bathroom. Setting you down next to the sink, your legs continued to twitch where they dangled off the counter while San adjusted the water in the shower. He smirked at the trail of cum you left on the counter before guiding you under the warm water, washing off the sweat and grime from your previous activities. San scratched at your scalp, rubbing the shampoo into your hair, hearing you hum pleasantly into his chest. He kissed you under the warm stream, reveling in the soft touches you left all over his body – your palms rubbing against his back, nails scratching at the skin every now and then, your lips trailing down his chest before going back up to leave gentle pecks all over his face. San didn't think he was insane, but the more time he spent with you, the more he thought he was about to be.

Wrapping you up in the fluffiest towel he could find, San penguin-walked with you to your bedroom, his arms wrapped firmly around your middle while his chest pressed against your back.

Sliding into bed, the early birds already awake and singing outside your window, you inhaled the soft scent of San's body wash. He hummed faintly into your ear, your eyes beginning to droop before finally falling shut. Your hand – rubbing small circles against San's back – ceased its movements, falling limp over his waist.

Lulled to sleep in San's tender embrace, you realized that missing him was worth every second when he finally came home to you, tucking you into his arms while he showered you with all his love and kisses.

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[slutforleeminho]

Finding you again • Bangchan

(angst, comfort)

"Why?" You screamed at the top of your lungs; the neighbors were probably filling a noise complaint at this very moment. "Tell. Me. Why."

Is this what couples do? Go to sleep feeling alone and cold because there is no one beside them to keep them warm? Eat their meals in silence, on the rare occasion you even ate together? Scream at each other until there's no more breath in their lungs? Pick a fight as soon as the person they're in love with walks through the door, barely having enough time to take their shoes off? Because that's what yours and Chans relationship is like.

"I'm really not in the mood for this right now, y/n. I'm tired and I haven't eaten or slept in the past twenty-four hours. I don't even know what you want from me. I bust my ass to make sure you have a roof over your head and food to eat and you treat me like this." He looked perfectly fine to you though, refreshed even.

"I treat you like this?" Your blood was boiling. " You treat me as if I don't even exist. You stay gone all day and night and when you do come home you barely even acknowledge my presence. It's like your annoyed I'm even here half the time." Tears pricked the back of your eyes, but you refused to cry right now.

"Because you always have something to nag about. I'm always working too much or I didn't do the dishes or take the trash out. It's always something with you, I can never just rest when I'm here. That's why I'm always at the studio-"

"Oh, cut the shit Chan. We both know you're not always at the studio." You interrupted him.

"What are you talking about?" He was starting to get visibly irritated with this whole conversation, but you didn't care. you were done pretending like this didn't bother you.

"I know your cheating on me." It was your first time saying it out loud, and boy did it have a bitter taste.

Chans whole demeanor changed, his face fell, and his shoulders tensed. "What?"

"I'm not an idiot Chris, if you aren't getting it from me, you're getting it from someone else. I mean c'mon it's so fucking obvious, you're gone all the time, and you haven't touched me in months," This time a stray tear fell down your cheek, a result of having these emotions stored away for weeks. "If you don't want me anymore just say it, don't torture me like this, I can't take it, I care for you too much." And then it all came crashing down on you at once, the possibility that you might lose him, you might lose the beautiful life the two of you used to share. The late-night movie marathons, the times you'd cook dinner together, laughing at the way he was terrible at chopping vegetables. The walks on the beach where he'd pick you up and pretend to throw you in the water, getting a kick out of the way you'd hold on to him for dear life. The times when he kissed you before leaving for work, and made love to you when he returned, telling you how much he missed you while he was away. How much he loved you.

The next thing you knew you were sobbing into your hands, letting go of everything you kept hidden for so long.

Chan stood there, eyes glued to the floor, mouth agape. You were too busy crying your eyes out to notice the tears escaping past his eye lids too. "Do you really think I'd do that to you?" His voice broke halfway through his sentence.

"I don't know what to think anymore. I feel like I don't even know you." You whispered before finally wiping your tears away and raising your head to look at him. You were more than surprised to see his bottom lip quivering and his whole body shaking, in a silent cry. You didn't know how to react; you'd never seen him cry like this before. You wanted to lunge at him and hold him close, to take all his pain away and tell him everything would be okay, but he should be the one doing that for you, not the other way around.

"I'm so sorry," He sobbed. " I have no excuse to be so distant like this, but I'd never cheat on you. Like it or not, you're the only person in this world for me, and now knowing that you thought that was the reason I haven't been here hurts like hell, but I don't blame you, I don't even know why I've been like this, it's like I'm on autopilot, working until I fall asleep and do it all again the next day.

"Why didn't you just tell me that? Anything would have been better than the silence."

"I don't know, baby." A broken cry leaving his lips, but the pet name warmed your heart, and you couldn't help yourself any longer. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him closer to you than he has been in weeks. He immediately responded, hugging your torso and burying his face into your neck. If you had known he was feeling this way you wouldn't have sprung this whole thing on him the way that you did. "I just feel so numb, so I did the only thing I know how to do." Which was make music. Because that's what he did, poured every ounce of his emotions into the beats that he sewed together to make something beautiful. "I don't know what's wrong with me." You held him as he cried and explained how tired and confused he was as to why he couldn't feel anything. He had drained every last drop of himself into his work, that's why. He always put the members and fans first, inconveniencing himself every time someone asked him of something, picking up the other members and staffs slack just so they could meet their deadlines. He doesn't know how to pace himself; he goes, and goes, and goes until his body and his mind can't take it anymore. he can't feel anything because he's felt enough. He has nothing left to give.

"Shh, baby, it's okay. everything's going to be okay."

~

And so, for the next few months he was going to work on himself and rest, to regain what he once had. After that night you made him take a few days off from work so he could rest, in which he used the time to make up to you by making love to you several times a day. He set up a steady schedule for work, making sure he didn't stay any longer than nine to ten hours a day and taking the weekends off. He even stopped doing the things that the managers and staff were supposed to do, which resulted in them falling behind on many things, and made for a hectic couple of weeks. But in the long run people started to realize that Chris wasn't letting them use him as he was before, so they pulled their shit together and finally did their jobs correctly. This was the first time you've seen him so happy and comfortable in his own skin, and you hoped that it'd never end.

taglist: @caitlyn98s @bangchansbae @fawnpeaks @yumiblogs @katsukis wife @seung-mine @sungprotector @favieeerrrr @soephiphanymain @z4ir3 @minnieslover

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook

𝓘𝓷𝓽𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓼𝓲𝓬 [Main Work]

You're supposed to keep him in check and integrate him into earth's society while he recovers from the aftereffects of catching a viral infection on his planet. All that, while you get to earn a pretty good monthly compensation for your efforts from the government of his and your planet.

Or more simplified: You're a paid babysitter for a 7' tall alien who's caught a virus that makes him act purely on instincts, rather than logic. Oh yeah- and he tried to eat your neighbor's pet bird. Yeah...

Tags/Warnings: Alien!Jungkook, Human!Reader, Yes I'm writing that story..., mentions of doctors visits (needles, injections, medical terms, blood), mild Angst, so much chaos, he almost eats a bird once oops, mild Angst, strangers to lovers, more TBA

Length: 4k words

A/N: THERE IS NO TAGLIST. THERE IS NO TAGLIST FOR THIS. THERE REALLY ISNT. DO NOT ASK.

-> Masterlist

━━━━━━━━━━.~°👽°~.━━━━━━━━━━━

"Are you sure that's a good Idea?" Jimin asks, and you shrug, dipping your piece of bread in the sauce.

"Yeah, why not?" You say. "They're not dangerous or anything. I've met Yoongi, and he's cool. Can live alone, even!" You tell your best friend across from you, who doesn't seem convinced.

"Yoongi is different though. He's, like, recovered already." Jimin says. "You'll be getting one straight out of quarantine. I'm sorry but, are you sure you can handle that?" He worries, and you roll your eyes.

"Jimin you're acting as if he's gonna try and murder me in my sleep." You scoff, denying any of his worries. "I went to all the lessons and readings and educational stuff- I wouldn't have gotten approved if I didn't. So calm down, I got this." You chuckle.

Jimin simply shrugging, well aware he can't change your mind.

"Jungkook, no, come on." The careworker who's nametag reads 'Kim Namjoon' gently says, holding the hand of who you assume must be Jeon Jungkook-

26-year-old Vrota, straight out of quarantine, having been brought to earth for treatment earlier this year. He likes sports, has a pretty big appetite, and dislikes being left alone for too long. He used to work as a physical health coach before catching the virus on Vilia, and stayed in self-isolation for about half a year before being sent to earth to be treated in quarantine for the most severe portion of his sickness.

Now, he's deemed healthy enough to stay with a human 'caretaker'- or babysitter, how you'd call it. And to be honest, you didn't really think much about taking care of a Vrota at first, having met one by the name of Min Yoongi during your earlier days at the education center for Vilian people- and he was a pretty cool guy.

What you didn't take into thought was apparently that Vrota can look very different just like humans. So yeah.. the guy standing in front of you right now with his big brown cat-eyes and colorful tattoos isn't really comparable to the chill, rather laid back Yoongi you had met.

No.

Fuck no.

Walking into your home is a at least 7-foot tall young man of your age, simply black shirt stretching over the muscles of his biceps, jeans seeming to barely contain his thigh muscles. Jesus christ.

Maybe Jimin was right in his worries that you might end up dead at the end of this.

"So, Jungkook here doesn't have any allergies, so you don't have to worry about that. He's overall low maintenance, sleeps a lot, but when he's awake you might want to start taking him out a bit, since he get's a bit restless if he's got nothing to occupy himself with." Namjoon explains, giving you all the necessary papers in an envelops, while Jungkook walks around to explore your apartment. "Also, don't be intimidated by him. He's gone through multiple rounds of behavioral analysis, and has been deemed no threat whatsoever." He offers when he notices you watch the way the young man walks around, looking at pictures on your wall.

"So like, I guess he has to put that on when we go out?" You wonder, pointing at the simple black collar with a GPS tracking device on it.

"Yes, please. And also, keep a hold of his hand, just so he doesn't get lost." Namjoon chuckles.

"Sorry, but I don't think me holding him by his hand is gonna do much." You joke, making Namjoon chuckle.

"Ah, no-" He agrees. "-it's not to physically keep him with you. It just reassures him, in a way. He enjoys physical contact a lot." he explains.

"So- does he talk?" You wonder, watching how Jungkook looks out the windows, cat eyes jumping around at the nature and scenery outside.

"Sometimes, but barely. He understands speech fluently though. It'll take some time for him to come out of his shell, but once he's comfortable, he'll talk. The virus didn't injure his brain whatsoever, so he's expected to make a full recovery by the end of this year." Namjoon informs you, and you nod. "His scheduled appointments are in there, his current doctors are marked down as well. If you can't take him to one of those appointments, please call in advance, alright? Otherwise they'll immediately try and pick him up themselves, and that's gonna be a lot of paperwork on your side, and a lot of unnecessary stress on his." He explains further, and you nod.

"So, basically- cook him food, make sure he doesn't go missing, and take him to his doctors. Got it." You nod, making Namjoon chuckle.

"Pretty much. Like I said, he's rather low maintenance. You can occupy him with video games or movies as well- and when it comes to food, he's not picky. Doesn't like sour snacks though." He laughs, and you nod.

"No sour stuff, got it." You nod, and at that, Namjoon claps his hands together.

"Alright kook, I'm gonna leave you here then." He says, making the man in question walk closer again, nodding. "Do you like it here?" He wonders, and Jungkook shrugs, looking around-

before he nods, looking at you.

"Alright. His clothes and everything has arrived, right?" Namjoon asks, and you nod.

"All in his room." You say, making Namjoon nod.

"Don't cause too much trouble, alright?" He tells Jungkook, who nods a bit deflated, visibly a bit upset he's gonna leave now. But he doesn't show it too much, waves Namjoon goodbye until the door closes, leaving him alone with you.

"Your room is here-" You say, leading him to a small guest room where he spots his suitcases on the bed. "I didn't unpack them, cause.. privacy and stuff. So you can do that while I make something to eat?" You ask, and he nods, walking past you- and only now do you realize just how much taller he really is than you.

Jesus christ.

You break away your eyes from the sight of his broad back to instead run into your kitchen, putting away the papers and starting to cook instead to both calm yourself down- and make sure Jungkook feels comfortable too.

━━━━━━━━━━.~°👽°~.━━━━━━━━━━━

It's been a few weeks- and thinks have definitely settled quite well.

You're currently sitting in the waiting room of the doctor's office- waiting to be called in, as Jungkook keeps rubbing his ear. "No, don't." You quietly scold him with a soft tone, carefully pulling his hand down by his biceps, causing him to whine under his breath in complaint.

He's been having some issues with it recently- an underlying problem that had been overlooked due to more pressing issues. An elderly woman with a young looking Vrota girl smiles at you from where she sits across, watching rather fondly how you hold Jungkook's hand in yours. Namjoon had been right- it works wonders in reassuring the young man.

And it also kept him close at your side.

"Jeon Jungkook?" Is called by a nurse, and you follow her into one of the examination rooms, where Jungkook sits down on the bed, while you took a seat close by on a chair. It's routine to you both by now, after all. "Ah, there. Hello!" The doctor offers, bowing politely before he sits down across from you behind his table. "So- apparently he's got some trouble with his ear?" He wonders, and you nod.

"He's been pretty frustrated with it for some days now. Keeps rubbing it, and he doesn't like it being touched either." You inform the man, who nods and writes some stuff down in his computer with the help of his keyboard.

"Hm yeah, that looks pretty sore." The man says as he inspects Jungkook's ear further, his tail whipping around as he tries to stay composed.

Unbeknownst to you, he only really does it to impress you.

As soon as the doctor is done, Jungkook get's up to walk closer to where you sit, hand curiously playing with the shoulder strap of your top while the doctor explains what medication Jungkook will have to take. Touches like this aren't unusual- Namjoon had been right, after all. The Vrota standing next to you is very touchy, enjoying you close and seemingly seeking you whenever he can. From sitting on the couch so closely next to each other that your legs are touching, to snoozing during a nap with his full upper body on your thighs.

It's what happens later when you're back home, as you're scrolling around on your phone, while he purrs in his sleep on your thighs. He's full on hugging your middle, arms around you keeping you close while the tip of his tail moves a little as he dreams. He really is currently like a big cat in a humanoid body- and you wonder if it's still the aftereffects of his virus, or if he's always like this in general.

Almost as if on pure instinct, one of your hands falls into his slightly curly hair, nails running over his scalp, and at that, his almost unnoticeable purr turns into vibrant rumbling in his chest. His arms wrap a bit tighter around your body as he adjusts his position, a soft smile on his face as he buries his nose in the front of your t-shirt. In this moment, you have to think about Jimin, and his big worries.

What a load of bullshit, you think to yourself, as you watch the happy cat-boy-alien snuggle just a little closer to you.

━━━━━━━━━━.~°👽°~.━━━━━━━━━━━

Scratch that. Scratch all of that. This young man is a menace, and you'll surely go to jail for not looking after him by the end of this entire situation.

"Jungkook…" You say, at a stand-off with the big cat-like alien across from you who stares you down with his stupidly cute big round eyes as if he's not doing anything wrong. "Where is pudgy?" You ask, and at that he fully turns around, squirming bird in his hand. "Jungkook, no, no no no-!" You dramatically call out, hands reaching for him- when he looks at the bird, then at you. "Give him to me, yeah?" you try, and he seems completely taken aback for a moment, and almost- shy?

Unbeknownst to you, he thinks you want the bird for something entirely different. In his mind, you're not asking for the bird itself- you're asking for him to offer it for you.

You want him to… court you?

He seems to deeply think for a good moment as he watches the bird breathe heavily, it's life probably flashing before it's very eyes before Jungkook brightly grins, sharp canine teeth making his happy grin look more dangerous than it probably is.

You don't know why he's suddenly so chipper, tail held high and eyes sparkling.

Suddenly, he holds the bird out to you like he's offering it rather than returning it- and you carefully take the poor thing from his rough hold, accepting it. It's something that makes the tip of his tail snap upwards in excitement, eyes scanning you for every reaction as you walk back.

"I'll be… right back.." You carefully tell Jungkook, who shrugs. "Do not do anything while I'm gone." You warn, before you dash out the front door to return the pet yet again, violently knocking on your neighbor's door.

"What?!" Seokjin yells almost, when you hold out his bird to him. "Pudgy!"

"Yeah, fuck your bird Jin!" You yell at the young man. "Jungkook almost fucking ate him, keep the thing in his cage for god's sake! Do you know how much trouble I would've been in if he actually ate him? I'm not ensured for accidental pet-ingestion!" You complain, making the man laugh a little.

"I'll keep the windows closed from now on." He reassures you, and you nod, pinching the bridge of your nose as you make your way back downstairs into your apartment-

where a not so happy Jungkook waits, arms crossed and tail whipping angrily from side to side behind him, knocking down some papers on the kitchen table. He's clearly unhappy, growling a little with every breath, eyes sharp and glaring at you dangerously.

"What happened?" You wonder, and Jungkook himself wants to just yell at you.

You're so stupid, he thinks to himself.

Why would you insult him like that? He caught that bird, and you wanted it- so he offered it, thinking you finally understood his intentions at this point- but no. Instead you insult him by giving HIS offering to that stupid human man upstairs, as if to mock him!

Do you want something more impressive? Maybe a tiny bird isn't enough to win you over. But on earth, there's not much prey to hunt- and considering he's a little bound to the interior of your apartment, he doesn't have any other options, really. And even if he was to catch something better- like the deer he'd almost caught if it wasn't for you scolding him for it- you still don't seem to like that at all. He doesn't know what else he could do to impress you.

What the hell do human woman want?!

Maybe he just really chose to court the most stupid and ungrateful human he could find- but he'll make sure you understand his intentions soon enough, and he'll teach you proper manners as well, once he's better. Right now, he's still unable to really do much in his state- but once he recovers a little more, he'll make sure.

He'll make sure you know exactly what he wants from you.

━━━━━━━━━━.~°👽°~.━━━━━━━━━━━

It's been a few months, and Jungkook has started to find his voice again, it seems like.

He hums a lot when doing household tasks, sings to himself while he folds laundry, throws random half-sentences at you here and there whenever he feels like doing so. And all of that is fine and dandy- if it wasn't for that very specific nickname he's come up with for you. You try to tell yourself that he just doesn't know any better, that he's just overly friendly, that there's no way he'd be using it for those specific reasons. It doesn't help that he's horribly attractive, and nice, and, ugh.

This is getting more complicated than you hoped it would.

"Kitty!" He chirps, as he leans over the couch, and holds something out to you. You can't help but flinch a bit internally at the way he says that nickname. You're guessing it came from when he'd asked what those cat-plushies in your bed had been called, and you had answered Hello Kitty to him. He'd laughed, pointed at the toy, and then pointed at your cheeks, poking them.

Ever since then, you'd been stuck with that name in his head, it seems like.

You eat from his fingers as he puts the piece of meat on your tongue, an odd, focused gaze on the action found in his eyes as he licks his own lips the same way you do yours. "It's good!" You praise, and he grins brightly, eagerly running back into your kitchen to finish whatever he's cooking. He's been becoming a lot more independent- and it makes you a little sad, considering that once he's deemed healthy enough, he'll leave you behind, move back to his planet one day, and forget you even existed.

A little bit of a bummer, really. But at the same time, there's nothing you can do about it. You don't feel good about asking him out- because what if he feels obligated to say yes?

It's like he senses the slight shift in your mood, slowly walking back up to the couch again where you sit, sitting down next to you on the couch, knees digging into the soft cushions while he curiously watches you with a tilted head. "Huh?" You wonder, smiling- but he frowns, shakes his head.

"What?" He asks. "Sad?" He questions, and you shrug, shaking your head.

"No no, don't worry." You shake it off. "Are you done cooking? Turned everything off?" You ask him, and he nods, but doesn't let off from his question it seems. He opens his arms, makes a grabbing motion with his hands, and you laugh. "You want a hug?" You giggle, but he shakes his head.

"No, you." He argues gently, urging you once more. "You, hug. Sad." He explains, and you laugh.

"Jungkook, I'm not sad." You say, and suddenly, his hands flop down, a frustrated look on his face.

"Don't want?" He hufffs. "Hug me?" He complains, and you look at him with questioning eyes.

"I do wanna hug you, kook." You say, and he perks up at the nickname used. "Just- you don't have to do that just cause I'm like, not feeling happy." You explain to him. "I'm here to take care of you, after all, not the other way around." You laugh, and he watches you a bit more serious right now.

"Right." He suddenly says with a flat tone. "You.. hm, get paid." He says more or less to himself. "For me." He finishes his sentence, sitting properly on the couch now, feet on the floor, arms crossed.

"I mean.. yeah." You say, carefully. "You're gonna leave as soon as you're good to go, you know that." You say. "Would be kinda weird to start like, a friendship or stuff when your stay is limited down the line. I just wanna look out for you- and myself too. Save us the hurt later on." You shrug, and at that, a lightbulb seems to blink out of nowhere over his head, as he looks at you.

"So you? Like me?" He asks, and you stammer an answer.

"Uh, no- like, yeah as a guy you're pretty cool but like I said-" You scramble for an explanation, but he just crawls back on the couch, over you, until he's got you practically pinned down beneath him.

"You like.. me." He says, as if it's a fact- and yeah, it is one. But it shouldn't be. "I like you." He offers. "I.. tried, hm.. Im-pressive- impress you!" He seems to think hard to make his words make sense, brain still a bit slow most of the time when he tries to talk. It shows by the way he still stutters, gets stuck on syllables or by the way his brows scrunch together in thought. "But you- dumb!" He scolds, pointing at your head.

"What the fuck- I'm not dumb!" You complain, and he laughs, sharp canine teeth showing.

"Yes!" He argues, though he seems to not mean it badly. "Really dumb!" He continues.

"Well at least I don't try to eat the local animal population!" You argue.

"But- offer!" He argues, tail puffed up and swaying around. "I need.. to impress! Hunt!" He complains.

"For what?" You laugh.

"You!" He whines loudly. "Mate, make mate- impress mate! You, so you- argh!" He growls out, and you can't help but laugh.

"Jungkook." You softly say, and he looks at you with a face looking like you just told him he has to sleep on the balcony outside. "You don't have to do that, you know? Just cause I take care of you, doesn't mean you.. have to like, be nice like that." You say, and at that, he huffs angrily to himself, tail all fluffy as the fur stands out to all ends in his growing frustration, his arms crossed.

"No.!" He argues. "Stupid!" He curses, getting up to walk into his bedroom, before he emerges back out with some papers in his hand, and red ears as he slaps them on the couch, fleeing the scene right after before slamming the door shut, and locking the door.

And on your couch are two papers, one of them having writing on both sides- the handwriting sloppy and crooked, but readable. And while some sentences don't make sense, it seems like he's tried to take his time and write down what he can't say, at the moment.

'Kitty is stupid' is written on top of the first paper, and you scoff to yourself. 'Kitty doesn't get it.' it reads further.

'I want cry. I catch her prey, I offer it, and she give away to man downstairs. Man downstairs can't even hunt at all, keeps stupid bird in a cage but doesn't ever eat it. Who keeps food alive in home? Why she likes him I don't know- he stupid, just like her. But I like her. Maybe I can teach her one day. But what if she hunt for her then? No, I want to do that.'

'I want to show that I can be good partner. I learned to cook with human foods! She likes food, likes eating. I like eating too, so we eat together often. Then we hug, and she scratches my head. I like that. She's warm.'

'Maybe she doesn't like me. Doesn't like my kind. Doesn't want my kind. Or me. Just me? Maybe just me. I'm the problem. She doesn't want me.'

You turn the page around. It's written with a different pen- probably written on a different day.

'She likes me. I know she do.'

'I made nest for her, today, and she smiled. Smiled happy, cute, like kitty-toys on her bed. Has cheeks round just like them. Soft, too. She is soft. Body soft. I like holding her often. I like holding her in nest I made. And she hugged me, too. Let me hold her instead. Normal, she hold me. But this time, I hold her. I want to hold her more from now. She can be held anytime she want. She smells nice too. Smells best when happy, and after shower.'

You chuckle as you remember that day. It had been raining, you'd gotten caught up in it on the way home from grocery shopping, and after putting all things away and showering, Jungkook had waited on the couch for you, blankets from his bed placed on it, his hand inviting you to sleep there with him. And you had simply accepted the offer-

After all, you didn't know what exactly he'd been trying to offer you with those pillows and blankets placed there. You were educated on his physical health and general behavior- not about courting rituals and how to spot if the Vrota you've been taking care of has developed a romantic interest in you. Why the hell would they teach that anyways? It's not like they are known to have a huge interest in humans.

If anything, they're typically looking down on humans.

You move the paper, and turn to the last one. There's not much written on it, but the sentences are clearer, showing how his health had started to increase again, brain starting to work better these days. They're not perfect, there's a lot scribbled out, but it's clear that it must've been written recently.

'I don't know if she enjoy my company as much as I do her. I know she gain money from taking care of me, but it feels like she also doing it because she care about me. Will she abandon me once I am healthy? Will she leave me once I recover? Will I forget her if I go back home? What if home is here now and not where home was? I don't want to go home anymore if she not there.'

'It's not home if she's not there. It's just a house, just a planet, just a place. But I want home. I want to be her home. I want us to be each other home.'

Can you even be a home? You haven't at all planned any further than up until he's healthy enough to go back home. You've got no clue what to really do after he leaves- so what the hell are you supposed to do now? A relationship with him would be perfectly legal, sure, but he's also only got a Visa for his earth-stay up until he's healthy enough to return to his home planet, once they've gotten their whole pandemic situation back under control. You don't know what to do now.

Maybe you really are stupid, like he says.

So you decide to be even more stupid, as you take a small post it note from your kitchen, and write down a single sentence, before you slide the little note under his bedroom door.

And as he reads it, his eyes become wide, while his fingers clench the pastel pink paper.

'I want to be your home, too.'

[earthtoharlow]

Don’t Like The Lights

Sequel to Flashing Lights series, must read Flashing Lights first to understand

Series Masterlist

15. U Got It Bad

When you say that you love 'em and you really know. Everything that used to matter, don't matter no more—I'm fortunate to have you, girl. I want you to know. I really adore you

After one of Maryse’s recent doctors appointments Jack had become extra protective. The doctor had mentioned that Maryse wasn’t eating enough to keep up with the demands of her growing twins, and that concerned him.

From that moment on, Jack took it upon himself to make sure she was getting the nutrition she needed, even if it meant hovering a bit more than usual.

“Babe, you hungry?” Jack asked for the third time that afternoon, bringing over a plate of fresh fruit and a smoothie.

Maryse looked up from her spot on the couch and smiled, a little amused but also touched by his concern. “I’m good right now,” she replied, but the smoothie in his hand was too tempting to resist. She took it from him with a grateful smile. “But you don’t have to keep asking me every hour, you know.”

“I know,” he said, sitting next to her. “But the doctor said you gotta eat more for the babies. So, I’m on ‘food patrol’ now.”

She rolled her eyes playfully, taking a sip of the smoothie. “You know I love how much you care, but you can chill a little.”

“I can’t chill,” he said, shaking his head. “Not when our kids need you to be healthy. I’m making sure you get everything you need. Plus…” he added with a grin, “I’m practicing for when the twins are here. I’m gonna be on top of things.”

Maryse laughed softly, leaning into him. “Well, in that case, keep bringing the smoothies.”

She continued to drink her smoothie as she watched Jack whisper sweetly to her bump. Sometimes she couldn’t believe that Jack was going to be the father of her kids. It still felt like a dream.

Maryse was deep in thought when Jack called her name. “M, you wanna head over to the new house? Start unpacking some of those boxes?”

She leaned back on the couch with a satisfied sigh, looked up at him with a sleepy smile. “Yeah, we can do that…” She paused, her eyelids already growing heavy. “But only after we take a nap together.”

Jack chuckled, shaking his head. “Nap first, huh?”

She nodded, already stretching out her arms toward him. “Mmmhmm… unpacking can wait. But this nap? Non-negotiable.”

He stood up, gently scooped Maryse up, cradling her as he carried her to the bedroom. “Alright, nap first, unpacking later. I can’t argue with that.”

Maryse arms lazily draped around his neck, her eyes half-closed as she nestled against his chest. He carefully laid her down on the bed, brushing a curl from her face. Just as Jack was about to get up and close the door, she let out a soft whine.

“Where are you going?” she mumbled, her hand reaching out for him.

Jack smiled, leaning back down to kiss her forehead. “I’m just gonna close the door, baby.”

She pouted, her eyes barely open. “Don’t go… just stay here.”

With a quiet chuckle, Jack shook his head. “Alright, alright, I’m not going anywhere.” He slipped into the bed next to her, pulling her close.

“That’s better,” she whispered, already starting to drift back to sleep.

Lou Lou pushed the door to the bedroom open trotted into the room, tail wagging. Without hesitation, she hopped up onto the bed and circled a few times before plopping right down on top of Maryse’s pillow, curling up for a nap too.

Maryse smiled, her eyes barely open as she glanced down at the tiny ball of fur resting in between her and Jack. “Looks like someone else wants to join the nap.”

Jack chuckled, gently petting the puppy. “Guess we’ve got a whole family nap situation now.”

Maryse snuggled deeper into his arms, letting out a soft laugh. “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

A few hours later, the afternoon sun shined through the curtains, gently waking Jack from his nap. He blinked a few times, looking down at Maryse, still curled up against him, with Lou Lou now sprawled across her belly, both of them fast asleep.

He smiled, gently stroking her arm as he whispered, “Hey, baby… time to wake up.”

Maryse stirred slightly, her eyes fluttering open. She glanced up at him, groggy but smiling. “Already?” she mumbled.

“Yeah, we gotta go to the new house, remember? Gotta get some unpacking done,” Jack said softly, brushing her hair out of her face.

She stretched her arms and let out a sleepy groan before glancing at the puppy, who was snuggled up on her belly. “Even the dog doesn’t wanna move,” she teased, giving the pup a gentle pat.

Jack laughed, sitting up slowly and lifting the puppy off her. “Come on, let’s get moving before we end up napping all day. We’ve got a house to unpack.”

Maryse nodded, rubbing her eyes before swinging her legs over the side of the bed. “Alright, let’s do this.” Jack smiled, pulling her up to her feet.

As they arrived at their new house, Jack couldn’t help but admire the sight of Maryse walking ahead of him, her hands cradling her now more prominent bump. At three months along, her belly had begun to show, and he found himself mesmerized by the way she instinctively rested her hands on it.

She paused in the doorway, looking around the empty space with a soft smile, rubbing her belly as if she were already introducing their future babies to their new home.

Jack grinned, his heart swelling as he watched her. “You look so good like that, you know?” he said, coming up behind her and wrapping his arms around her gently, his hands finding their way to rest on top of hers over her bump.

Maryse looked up at him, laughing softly. “I’m just walking.”

“Yeah,” he said, leaning down to kiss her cheek, “but you’re walking around with our babies. It’s different.”

She smiled, her cheeks warming slightly as she leaned into him. “Ew, you really love me, huh?”

Jack laughed, resting his chin on her shoulder. “Yeah, I do. A lot. Even if you think it’s gross.”

She smiled despite herself and shook her head. “It’s a little gross.”

“Well, get used to it,” he said, kissing the side of her head. “I’m not gonna stop.”

Maryse pulls away with a smile and starts walking towards the stairs

“Be careful.”

“You know, making you a dad has made you real soft.”

Jack grinned, not missing a beat. “Yeah, well, you’re the one who did this to me,” he said, gesturing to her bump and following her up the steps. “Guess it’s your fault I’m all mushy now.”

They made their way into the nursery, Jack paused, looking around the empty room. “I was thinking… maybe we put the cribs in these two corners,” he said, picturing it in his mind. “The changing table here, then their initials on the wall above them.”

Maryse smiled, amused by how invested he was in the details. “I like that idea. But what about the walls? Should we go with something more neutral?”

“Honesty, I think we should leave them white” Jack said, nodding as he imagined it. “We could add a cloud mural on this wall here. Maybe even put up some shelves that look like clouds to put their toys on.”

Maryse’s eyes lit up. “That sounds perfect. And I was thinking, we get someone to build a book nook in here. That way we have a place to sit and read to them.”

“I love that,” Jack said, his voice warm with excitement. “We could get a bookshelf with all the classics, and maybe even some books that were our favorites as kids.”

Maryse smiled, pleased with the plan coming together. “This room is gonna be special. I want them to feel safe and happy here, you know? Like it’s their own little world.”

Jack walked over to her, wrapping his arms around her waist. “They’re going to love it,” he said softly, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

She nodded in agreement, “I was nervous at first but now I’m just super excited.” Before Jack could reply, Maryse’s phone rang, breaking the moment. She stepped away to take the call, leaving Jack to glance around the room with a smile.

When Maryse walked back in the room she was beaming. “Usher just asked me to be a special guest at his Super Bowl halftime show next month!” she announced.

Jack’s face lit up with surprise and pride, but then a flicker of concern crossed his eyes. “That’s amazing, but… you’ll be four months pregnant by then. You already accepted it?”

Maryse's excitement faltered for a moment, but she brushed it off quickly. “I’ll just be doing a guitar solo. It’s nothing too intense. And besides,” she added, a little defensively, “I don’t have to talk to you before making decisions about my career.”

The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them, and she immediately regretted it.

Jack’s expression tightened, and he took a deep breath. “Look, I’m not trying to control you, but we’re about to have a family, and it’d be nice if you gave me a heads up on big things like this. Soon, it’s not just gonna be about us anymore. We’ve got two little ones to think about.”

Maryse's heart sank. She reached out, placing a hand on his arm. “I didn’t mean it like that,” her voice filled with remorse. “I’m sorry.” She said quietly. “You’re right. I just got caught up in the moment. I know you’re just looking out for me, and the kids.”

Jack sighed, running a hand over his face before softening his tone. “I’m excited for you, really. It’s the freakin’ Super Bowl. We just have to make sure all the precautions are in place—you know, with the babies and everything. I don’t want anything happening to you.”

Maryse nodded and sighed knowing he was right, “I’m sorry I didn’t speak to you first about it. I was just so excited. We’re about to start a family and we should talk about things that’s going to affect us as a family.”

Jack grabbed her hands bringing them to his lips to kiss them. “It’s okay, we’ll work on it. You know my main priority is to keep you safe.”

He paused, then broke into a grin. “But seriously, I’m happy for you! I can’t believe that after your performance, I’ll be the only one in our family who hasn’t performed at the Super Bowl. My kids are already gonna outshine me before they’re even born.”

Maryse chuckled, shaking her head. “You really had to make this about you, huh?”

“Nah, it’s about you,” he said with a grin. “I’m just trying to keep up.”

She glanced at him nervously, biting her lip. “Are you going to come with me to rehearsals next week?” Her voice wavered a bit as she added, “It’s my first performance since… you know.”

Jack immediately caught the shift in her tone and stepped closer, resting his hand on her shoulder. “Of course I’m coming.”

Maryse bit her lip, her eyes clouded with doubt as she looked at him. “What if I forget how to play the guitar? I mean, it’s been months since I performed. What if I mess up in front of everyone?”

Jack couldn’t help but chuckle, his smile reassuring. “Babe, you’re overthinking this,” he said softly, stepping closer to her. “You literally play the guitar every day. Half the time, I wake up to you strumming something in the next room. You’ve got this.”

She still looked unconvinced, so he added, “You’ve been playing for years—it’s like second nature to you. And it’s not just any stage, it’s the Super Bowl. You’re gonna crush it.”

“Now, let’s finish unpacking some stuff,” Jack said, trying to lighten the mood.

Maryse groaned playfully, leaning her head back. “Ugh, fine, but only if you promise to order pizza later.”

He smirked. “Deal. As long as you promise not to make me eat one of your pregnancy concoctions again.”

She grinned, poking his side. “No promises. You never know what cravings might hit next.”

****

A month later, just hours before her Super Bowl performance, Maryse felt a sharp, radiating pain in her back. It grew worse by the minute, nearly paralyzing her as she tried to get ready. She clenched her teeth and did her best to hide it from Jack, but he noticed her grimaces and the way she leaned heavily against the wall.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, stepping closer, his face full of concern. “You’re in pain. You can’t go on like this. Maybe you should back out.”

Her frustration boiled over. “No! I can’t back out now. I’ve worked too hard, and I can’t disappoint everyone. It’s just a little pain—it’ll go away.” Her voice was shaky, laced with both stubbornness and fear.

Jack sighed, clearly torn. “But if you’re not okay—”

“I’ll be fine,” she insisted, brushing him off even though every movement felt like a battle. “This performance means everything to me, and I’m not letting anything stop me. Not now.”

As the performance drew closer, Jack couldn’t take his eyes off Maryse. He watched her like a hawk, scanning for any signs of pain or discomfort. Every time she shifted in her seat or winced slightly, his heart raced with worry.

“You sure you’re okay?” he asked for the hundredth time, his voice low but filled with concern. He stood close by, ready to step in at any moment if she showed even the slightest sign of needing help.

Maryse, determined to push through, gave him a small, reassuring smile. “I’m fine, really.” She knew he wasn’t convinced, but she also knew he wouldn’t push her further. Not right now, at least.

He crossed his arms, his eyes never leaving her. “I’ll be right here the whole time, you know that?” His voice was soft but firm, a silent promise that he wouldn’t let anything happen to her.

“I know,” she said, her nerves creeping back in. Knowing he was watching over her made the weight of the moment a little easier to carry.

A soft knock on the door interrupted the moment. One of the stage crew poked their head in, offering a gentle reminder. “It’s time to get into position,” they said, their voice hushed but urgent.

Maryse felt her stomach tighten as the weight of the moment hit her all over again. She glanced at Jack, her eyes wide with nerves. He gave her a reassuring nod, kissing her cheek lightly not wanting to mess up her makeup.

“You got this,” he whispered, his hands lingering on her shoulders. “Go out there and kill it.”

Taking a deep breath, she stood up, the back pain from earlier now barely a memory. She nodded,. “Let’s do this.”

As she turned to leave, Jack gently pulled her back for a moment, crouching down in front of her. He placed a soft kiss on her bump, his hands resting protectively on her waist.

“Good luck in there, little ones,” he whispered with a grin, then looked up at her, his expression soft. “And you, too.”

Maryse's heart swelled, and she smiled, her nerves easing just a little. “Alright, alright, enough of that,” she teased. “I have a show to do.”

Jack stood up, letting her go with one final squeeze. “Go get ’em, superstar.”

Usher had just started performing “U Got it Bad” and Jack jumped and couldn’t help but let out a loud cheer as Maryse came out in her catsuit and as the first chords rang out, the crowd’s reaction was electric. Cheers and gasps of surprise filled the arena as they noticed her pregnancy bump.

“Let’s go!” Jack yelled, pumping his fist in the air. “That’s my girl!”

Urban cheered loudly beside him. Jack couldn’t contain his excitement. He jumped up and down, shouting, clapping, and even high-fiving the crew members around him. Every time the crowd erupted into cheers, he matched their enthusiasm, his eyes never leaving Maryse as she rocked the stage.

As Maryse’s solo reached its peak, she dropped to her knees and executed a flawless backbend, her body arching gracefully. Jack’s heart skipped a beat, his eyes wide with a mix of admiration and concern.

He watched, breathless, as she held the position, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. The sight of her bending backwards while pregnant made him a bit nervous. His protective instincts flared up, and he felt a pang of worry that she might be pushing herself too hard.

When Maryse finally stood up, he could finally breathe again.

“Las Vegas, where my bad girls at?”

When Maryse finally made her way backstage, Jack was waiting with open arms. He swept her into a tight embrace, kissing her all over her face, his lips brushing against her cheeks, forehead, and lips.

“You were incredible out there!” he said between kisses, his voice choked with emotion. “I’m so proud of you.”

Maryse laughed softly, her exhaustion evident but her spirits high. “Thanks. It felt amazing,” she admitted, leaning into his affection.

Jack pulled back just enough to look into her eyes, his expression turning serious. “But that’s it. No more performances for you for the rest of the pregnancy. I can’t have you pushing yourself like that again.”

Maryse nodded, her smile still in place. “That’s fine. Honestly, it took so much out of me,” she confessed, placing a hand on her belly. “I think I felt the babies flutter.”

Jack’s eyes widened in surprise, “For real?” he asked, his voice hushed with awe. He stood still, his palm warm against her stomach, waiting to feel it again.

Maryse nodded, a smile creeping up on her face. “Yeah, I think all the excitement from the night got them going. They’re as hyped up as you are.”

Jack chuckled, his grin spreading wide. “Guess they’re already practicing for their own Super Bowl debut,” he joked, but his voice was thick with emotion. He kissed her forehead, then her belly. “I’m so proud of you.”

Maryse looked up at Jack, her eyes soft and filled with gratitude. “I couldn’t have done this without you,” she said quietly, her fingers gently intertwining with his. “All of it—getting through the nerves, the pain, everything. You kept me going.” She smiled, tears threatening to spill over, but this time, they were tears of happiness. “I love you so much.”

Jack pulled her into his arms, kissing the top of her head as he held her close. “I love you too,” he whispered back.

LIFEOFMONET

liked by saweetie, chloebailey, mstinaknowles, lala, nfl, michaelbjordan, urbanwyatt, latto777, jackharlow and 987,045 others

lifeofmonet: SUPERBOWL HALFTIME!!!! Still feels like a dream! @usher you are an ICON wow wow wowwww

Hours before this performance, my back was hurting like hell. I could hardly move. A few prayers later, I pulled though 🥲

I can’t even put into words how much tonight meant to me. Thank you to everyone who supported me and showed so much love throughout this entire journey. I missed being on that stage more than I can say—being back up there was everything I needed. 🤰🏾🎸

P.S. Pregnant with twins at the Super Bowl? 10/10 recommend… except for the part where I couldn’t enjoy all the food in peace 😩😂.

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dojacat: pulled thru and proceeded to do a whole back bend on stage!!

user: ATE!!! LEFT NO CRUMBS 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

user: those kids have the coolest parents!

mstinaknowles: Loved your guitar solo ❤️🔥

saweetie: ALL 10s! 😍🥰

nfl: 👏👏👏👏

urbanwyatt: actually the coolest ever

druski: just call me uncle dru!

JACKHARLOW

liked by urbanwyatt, lifeofmonet, dojacat, yungskylark, saweetie, cozane, thomaschristmas, and 878,568 others

jackharlow: Y’all, my girl just shut down the Super Bowl halftime show! Couldn’t be more proud of her. She did her thing, and she did it pregnant with our babies. 💜 My baby mama cooler than a lot of yall

Now I gotta go buy a Burberry flannel since I’m officially a baby daddy 😂

view all 10,578 comments

user CONGRATULATIONS!!!

user: Jack Harlow is about to be a dad 🥲🥲🥲

user: TWINS !!!

saweetie: OH BABYYYYY

burberry: DM us 😉

druski: we sure the kids are yours?

user: returning to the stage at the superbowl and announcing your pregnant with twins? Yeah icon living

user: your kids already more successful than you

sexyyred: rich baby daddy 🤑

AN: long chapterrrrrr �� whole world knows our girl is pregnant now!! Let me know what you think 💭

Tag List

(message me if you'd like to be added or removed)

@heavyhitterheaux @hoodharlow @https-harlow @babiefries @jackmans-poison @dstark-0706 @harlowsbby @itsyagirljaz @leftapricotprofessorlover @toocriticalharlow @minkookie95 @harlowcomehome @jackharloww @jaydaaasworld @kkrenae @hufflewhore128 @jackiehollanderr @katiaw2 @halfmoondaze @babybardi2 @daphnescorner @angelluv444 @wabi-sabi1090

[devondespresso]

This Comfort

T | 4.5k words | Stobissy (Platonic stobin x Chrissy) | canon divergent season 4 rewrite, pre-relationship, hurt/comfort, happy ending, weird-as-shit stobin | cws: referenced eating disorder, implied depression, implied suicidal ideation, referenced drugs

happy holidays @stellarspecter !!! hows it feel to be THE reason i like this rarepair so much that i had to hold myself back from trying to do a whole chrissy lives s4 rewrite? I tried to be subtle but i also just HAD to reread your stuff while brainstorming this, hope you like it!!! 💕💕💕

<< dividers by @/saradika-graphics >>

Chrissy kind of wants to cry. 

Her body always seems to want to do that at the first hint of peace she can find. In a bathroom stall, at the rotting picnic table behind the school, and now in the basement at Nancy Wheeler’s house, surrounded by still, sleeping bodies. She can’t help but find their presence soothing, even if their warmth doesn’t reach the cold vinyl of her sleeping bag, even if the gentle rhythm of their breathing can’t be heard over the sound of Olivia Newton-John’s voice clogging her ears.

Would the song even work if she got sick of hearing it so much? Can any song keep her safe if she keeps associating music with life-or-death?

Chrissy’s supposed to be sleeping, or supposed to be trying, at least. But she can’t hear the huffs, can’t feel any warmth, can’t even smell over the stench of highschool boy’s body spray— so Chrissy doesn’t try to sleep, even if she has a comparatively easy song to fall asleep to. She just watches, still as if she were out like they are, watching those tiny movements in the bodies around her.

Chests rise and fall slowly, languid unlike any other moment from the day. Some people twitch or stir—just barely—as their bodies dream, hopefully of something far removed from everything that’s happening now. It’s only half the room in her line of sight, but something about watching even just a part of the life around her makes it easier to feel the rest of it there.

It’s nice. Really nice, compared to the past twenty-four hours. And for some twisted reason, that makes tears prick at Chrissy’s eyes.

Her song starts again, a rhythmic melody that had made her sway in her seat the first dozen times she listened to it today. A melody that somehow—even after literal hours of hearing it over and over and over and over and over—still takes her to a time unblemished enough to keep her from letting Vecna end it all.

The beginning instruments all cut off so Olivia can start singing, new instruments coming in to replace them, but they’re not the same. Chrissy swallows, but a tear still falls, tickling her skin down towards her ear before it stops, falling and soaking into the flattened pillow that smells like the same musty body spray as the rest of this cruddy basement.

“Chrissy,” a voice whispers from behind her, said like it isn’t the first time they’ve called, barely audible over her music. Chrissy pushes up slightly, just enough to look behind her, to find Steve sitting up and keeping watch on the couch, leaning towards Chrissy as much as he can with Robin sleeping on his lap. His eyes stay focused on her through the dark, looking maybe for rolled back eyes or waiting for her to start muttering in tongues, but Chrissy only looks back and waits.

“You okay?” he whispers through the dark, again just barely loud enough. Chrissy nods to him, and turns down her music a notch or two.

Steve keeps looking like she never responded. Maybe—hopefully—because it's too dark to see and not because he expects a different answer with enough waiting. Chrissy swallows a lump in her throat, and answers again.

“I'm okay.”

Steve hears her—he has to—but he keeps looking at her that same way. Attentive, and a little on edge.

Chrissy slides one side of her headphones off her ear so she can hear her own whispers.

“I’m fine, I promise.” She says, loud enough that he has to hear her—or believe her—yet still low enough to mask the way her throat tightens around the words.

Steve hums, a soft thing that blends with the sounds of the room, but Chrissy can make it out.

“Come up here.” He whispers, nodding over to the small sliver of couch left next to him, just big enough to fit her. Or, big enough if she were like Robin and could just half-lay on pretty people without feeling electricity seize her body from head to toe. Chrissy opens her mouth to politely decline and save both of them the awkwardness, but Steve picks that moment to look away—look down to Robin—and lift her ever so slightly, ever so gently, to scoot them over and make the space next to him more comfortable.

“You didn’t have to do that.” Chrissy whispers but finds herself getting up anyway, padding over quietly as Steve settles, Robin slumping back down onto his lap without stirring.

“It’s no big deal,” He mutters, a soft smile pulling at his lips, still looking down at Robin, “She sleeps like the dead like this.”

Chrissy hums, and Steve looks up.

“Or– like a baby, I guess is a better word for it right now.”

“It’s fine.” Chrissy insists, taking a seat next to him, settling into the corner with a respectable distance between them– a distance that the rest of her doesn’t seem to pick up on, unfortunately, but respectable at the very least.

Steve hums and watches her, trying to do it subtly out of the corner of his eye, but even just a day around the real Steve is enough for her to know what worry looks like on him.

Fortunately for her, he doesn’t push. And when Chrissy busies herself with getting comfortable in her new couch corner, Steve looks away, absently combing through Robin’s hair as he plays casual.

“Rough sleeping with music always in your ears?” Steve asks, a lightness of humor there that she wishes was the only thing tied to that question.

“Not too bad, actually.” she says, pairing it with a little smile and hoping it’ll convince them both that she’s alright. “Especially out of all the other songs from Grease. The walkman itself is probably more annoying.”

“Yeah, my ears do not envy you there.” Steve huffs, smiling a little, making Chrissy’s smile come a little easier before they both run out of things to say and the levity falls off both their faces. Chrissy’s dropping faster with no eyes on her to keep up the charade for, while Steve’s falls slowly, slips into neutral as he gets caught up in thought once again.

Chrissy gets to keep a few moments to herself before she catches Steve glancing at her again through the corner of her eye. She pretends not to notice, holds her neutrality for a few nauseating seconds before she sighs, closing her eyes and drawing her knees to her chest in a way that turns the subtle glance into full-force attention.

“Do you think…” She starts, but finds the words stopping before they can get out of her head. Does he think she’ll die? Obviously he’s not going to tell her if he does.

“Eh, sometimes.” Steve answers, shrugging lightly in a way that's playful but not flippant enough to derail the conversation.

Chrissy huffs from the tinge of amusement, then tries again.

“Have you wondered what would happen if we got tired of our songs?” 

“Not yet, to be honest. But I figure we’d try to find new ones.” He says, quick enough that it feels like a simple answer to him. But even still he considers it, even if it’s just to show her he’s taking her worries seriously. “I mean, if the whole point is picking a song that reminds you about what’s good in life, I’d figure there’s got to be at least a decent handful of them that’d work.”

Chrissy hums, resting her head onto her knees as she considers. It feels like a simple enough thing, just find songs that remind you of good things, but as she combs through the library in her head, she’s not sure she has as many of those as the others do. Or at the very least, not ones that haven't been sullied by other memories or the things she’s learned since then. Birthday parties with a Chrissy that didn’t think twice about what was in those cakes, sleepovers with girls that had a lot more to say in the halls than they did in their bedrooms. She should count herself lucky that out of all the songs she had loved, she still had one of her favorites.

Though she supposes she should also count herself lucky for even being alive right now. If circumstances were different, she might’ve genuinely felt it.

“To be honest, I’m more worried about how Max doesn’t seem bothered by listening to the same thing nonstop.” Steve chimes in again, that sweet little note of humor back, and though it still makes her smile—truly smile, at both the humor and the intent behind it—it can’t fully lift her out of the headspace she keeps crawling into.

Still Chrissy hums along with him, the sweetness she puts into her voice just as erosive as the added sugars she keeps an eye out for.

“The magic of a really good artist, I guess.”

“Maybe. Though I know I’d still get tired of it no matter who’s voice I’m blasting.” Steve replies, tone light as if he didn’t notice how fake her tone was, and just that thought grants Chrissy an ounce of real levity.

“Even Freddie Mercury.” Chrissy asks with teasing scrutiny.

“I plead the fifth.” Steve smiles mischievously, and when Chrissy raises a suspicious eyebrow at him, he lets out a small but genuine laugh that Chrissy wants to mirror desperately.

Steve hushes himself quickly enough, but Robin still stirs in his lap, groaning and tucking her face down into the denim of Steve’s jeans as if they were somehow comfortable enough to put her back to sleep. But then again, Chrissy figures they don’t have to be, as Steve’s hand finds it’s way back to her hair again, carding his fingers gently and intentionally as Robin stills and soon returns to slow, sedated breathing.

Steve sighs, not tense or aggravated, just restful, like the mood of before was so calm that any change in it counted as disturbance. And then within seconds, he’s back, glancing once over to Chrissy again before looking back at Robin as he continues.

“Rob’s probably the type to be fine listening to most of her music over and over.” He hums, “Not that she needs it. The second she even thought that music might be it she shoved all the tapes she could find into her bag—including our manager’s, actually—”

“Your manager’s?”

“Yeah, Keith’s in for a bit of a surprise soon.” Steve laughs again, “Point is, though,” Steve looks back at her with a new, almost concerning level of sincerity once again veiled as small-talk. “Robin has a pretty good stash of other music in her bag and I’ve got a handful in the glovebox, too, so if you want to pick a couple backups to keep on you…” He shrugs instead of finishing with any extra nod to the favor he’s offering, and Chrissy’s conscience appreciates the discretion.

“Yeah, that’s probably a good idea.” she mutters, figuring at the very least that it wouldn’t hurt to look, maybe pick a couple that’d sound nice, even if she doubts anything from after 79’ would spark any good memories, the thought itself is sweet enough to make her sincerely grateful. “Thank you.”

“‘Course. It’s all up to you, just know it's an option.”

Chrissy hums and nods, not really wanting to continue the conversation but also lacking anything else to start talking about next.

Really, she only gets a few seconds to think about it before Steve’s glancing her way again, eyes lingering to study her and somehow sneaking inside towards the softest parts of her, all right under her nose.

“You’re doing good, y’know?” Steve says, quiet as anything else they’ve said tonight, but Chrissy finds it deafening. “This shit sucks… so much. But your still here, still sticking together, still keeping up with the kids—which, believe me, is a feat in of itself.” He huffs to himself, before glancing back to Chrissy with raw compassion. “I know all of it’s… smothering, almost. Too big and too stressful, but you’re doing great, alright? And we’re gonna make it work out.”

He’s lying, obviously, Chrissy hasn’t done jack-shit and Steve just wants to make her feel better– so Chrissy nods—on reflex, almost—because she knows to take a compliment—to take comfort—when it's being given to her. She knows so she nods and tries to just take Steve’s words with a polite smile and a polite nod but–

Her eyes water and tears fall too fast, too many goddamned tears coming and spillingout and she tries—God, she tries— to keep them back and to smile and show him it worked, shes good now, thank you—but she’s failing, failing miserably, so she falls back on breathing– breathing normally and praying he can’t see her crying through the dark–

“Chrissy, I mean it.” Steve says, with the softness of sincerity that—regardless of whether she believes him or not—breaks through the last of her defenses, letting a small, pitiful sound choke its way out of her throat.

“Chris–”

Chrissy stands—giving up on looking okay in favor of being quiet—and wipes her face, looking around for the bathroom door that Nancy said would be down here.

“Chrissy, hey–” Steve whispers, a hand finding her arm gently—not grabbing, just touching—and while it tempts her so heavily, instinct leads her away.

“It’s fine– don’t wake Robin–” Chrissy chokes on her own words and aborts, going towards the bathroom, ignoring Steve trying to whisper-call after her, ignoring how he whispers to himself before the couch squeaks, ignoring his footsteps coming up until they’re right behind her– and Chrissy stops and flings around and–

Turning catches Steve off guard—enough to stop him a foot or so away—and makes him retract an outstretched arm.

“Chrissy, it’s okay.” Steve insists, struggling for words to say next and doing nothing to keep it from taking over his face. “Look, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean–”

“Stop.” Chrissy says– tries to say, even though it comes out wet and weak and crackly– “You’re fine, I promise–”

It doesn’t sound final but it’s all Chrissy can get out—is all that she really needs to. Tears keep coming like she’s a broken faucet and Steve’s still standing there—already knows she’s crying and isn’t going to ignore it—so she just covers her face with her hands, cold fingers cooling unruly flames of embarrassment, and tries catching her breath.

“Wha’s…?” 

Chrissy doesn’t try to recognise the voice, just jolts up at the new sound and finds Robin up and walking towards them, going slow and rubbing her face like a rough morning.

“Rob, now’s not–”

“Are you crying?” Robin says as she drops her hand and gets a barely decent look at Chrissy, voice sounding suddenly wide awake, face skipping confusion and going straight to concern as she turns to check Steve next, “Are you– no, no you're– ok, good, so–” She turns back to Chrissy within another blink. “Are you okay? Or– no, stupid question.”

“No,” Chrissy says, but then Robin’s eyes flash with guilt, “No, no, I– not stupid question, I’m okay, I promise, I–”

“That’s debatable.” Steve interrupts, as kindly as he probably can.

“I am.” Chrissy says before heaving a massive breath and pushing her hands across her face again, all to get herself in any way capable of explaining, “It’s not your fault– or yours, or anyones! I’m not mad or sad or upset or anything– I’m just crying!” Chrissy pauses for another breath, then finishes—with more control than before— “Just crying. And crying in front of people is embarrassing, so…”

Steve and Robin both stay silent, gears turning trying to figure out what to say or do next, and while Chrissy does feel a little bad, a small part of her says they were asking for it.

“I cry a lot.” Robin says, in what seems like a reflex at first, but she keeps going even after she seems to realize what she’s saying, “I cry all the time, like, constantly– or not actually really that frequently but when I do it’s like an absolute behemoth amount of crying, and I love crying– or well, maybe not– no actually I do, if I need to cry then I love to cry, just get it all out, y’know? And this whole thing—the end-of-the-world monster crisis thing—is like a really good reason to need to cry, the most understandable reason to cry—even Steve's cried about it!” 

“Yes!” Steve confirms immediately, like he either somehow forgot or the detail didn't occur to him.

“And last time– okay I didn't really cry during it much last time because it felt like there was so much going on like all the time but the second we got Steve a hospital room and I could sit down next to him, I started bawling, like really ugly snotty sobbing, and I cried for, like, three hours straight and one of the nurses kept bringing me water so I wouldn't dehydrate and die because I actually could not stop crying and I didn’t even feel that sad, y’know? I had been way more upset in the middle of the whole thing but I didn’t cry once—”

“Just peed your pants a little.” Steve mutters, catching Chrissy off-guard and making Robin fling immediately over to wack his arm.

“You–” Robin says, pointing at him and scrambling for words, “And you shit your pants twenty minutes in!”

“I what?” Steve whisper-laughs, bordering on a dangerous volume again.

“Yeah, you shit yourself and you smelled so bad–” Robin starts breaking into giggles and struggling to keep her volume down, so Steve somehow decides that covering her mouth with his hand would help. It does, kinda, in that it muffles her laughs until she gets them under control and starts swatting him away.

They collect themselves together, clearly trying to keep attuned to Chrissy without directing the full force of attention on her, but as they both try to manage each other’s clumsiness Chrissy feels the pressure of conversation ease and is just left with Robin’s words and the care that both of them were trying to show. Chrissy wipes her face even though new tears still fall, and steels herself with another breath that finally comes easier than the last.

“Robin.” Chrissy says.

Robin stops, and before Chrissy can chicken out she dives forward and takes Robin into a hug.

Robin’s clearly caught off guard but recovers quickly and wraps her arms around Chrissy tight, leaning in with a cheek pressed into her hair, holding her immediately. Chrissy sobs a little for no good reason but Robin doesn’t let go, doesn’t ask again, just keeps holding on.

Instead of waiting ages for her tears to stop, Chrissy just lets go when her crying quiets down and she no longer feels the need to hide from the people holding her. Chrissy loosens her grip and Robin lets go right after, leaning back to check on her, breaking into a sweet, lopsided grin.

Another hand falls carefully onto her back, and when Chrissy turns around and finds Steve still there quietly trying to check in too, Chrissy lunges forward a second time. Steve holds her tight like Robin did– possibly even tighter as his shoulders curl around her frame, like she’s being tucked inside his chest, safe away from harm.

Chrissy kind of hates pulling away, but by the way both Steve and Robin stay close after letting go, Chrissy gets the feeling that it won’t be hard to get more of that affection from them.

“You ready to go back to the couch?” Robin asks.

Chrissy nods.

“Awesome,” Robin says, taking her hand and leading the way back eagerly, “Cause, like, I don’t know about you but I would love to be sleeping right now– and I don’t regret waking up, obviously, totally a good reason to wake up, I just also love getting a full night’s sleep–”

“Aw, poor Robin, not being asleep right now.” Steve teases, getting quieter as they get to the couch but still being loud enough to annoy Robin.

“Aw, poor Stevie, was already awake when things started happening and only had to wake up once in the middle of the night.” Robin whines back, taking a spot in the corner of the couch and pulling Chrissy down to sit with her.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re so funny, Robbie.” Steve smiles, not making a move to sit down with them. “Where’d you put your bag?”

“Why?”

“Wanna look at the tapes you have.”

“Steve, you don’t have to.” Chrissy 

“‘Don’t know what you’re talking about, I just want to listen to– uh… Bowie. Obviously.”

Chrissy huffs, torn between the guilt of a favor and a rush of amusement, but couldn’t help but play along.

“And not your manager’s stellar music taste?”

“Steve!” Robin hissed, “You told her?”

“Yeah, what’s she gonna do? Keith’s gonna know.”

“We don’t know for sure!”

“Yeah we do, his walkman’s basically glued to him.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Not with you cause he likes you, but on a Tuesday close with me and I’d be lucky if he heard me dying.”

“Oh, I think he hears you just fine.” Robin laughs.

Steve sighs with a quick eye-roll before gesturing back to the room.

“Bag. Where?”

“Behind the trunk under the staircase.” 

Steve looks at her incredulously but goes to find it, repeating her interesting choice of hiding place under his breath as he goes.

“Did something happen to your other tape?” Robin asks, turning and hitting her with the full force of her concern—and while Chrissy appreciates it, a lot, she needs to look away to relieve some of the pressure and calm some of the heat that hits her cheeks.

“No, no, it’s working fine, I just, uh… was worried I was going to get sick of listening to it all the time.”

“Oh, that’s good,” Robin nods and the intensity of her worry lessens considerably, replaced instead by an almost frantic kind of ramble, “Good as in, like, y’know, that it’s not broken and you’re just being extra cautious, I mean–”

“Yeah, it’s good.” Chrissy smiles, cherishing the way Robin smiles with relief as she realizes she’s being understood.

Robin’s eyes flick slightly to something behind Chrissy so she turns around, catching Steve as he gives a note to a recently awoken Nancy Wheeler and starts finding his way back to the couch around the minefield of sleeping teenagers on the floor. He stops right in front of the couch—in front of Chrissy—and kneels down to open the bag between them for her to see.

“Let Nance know about the new plan.” He mutters, probably softer than he has to, “If by some chance something does happen, she’ll know to try your old tape first.”

Chrissy looks up at his eyes for a moment before turning them down into the bag, impressively full of cassettes, some loose, some in their cases, but almost all of them well-loved. Chrissy reaches in and starts looking through the ones on top, some obviously Steve’s, some obviously Robin’s, some probably Keith’s, and a good many that have to be for both of them. She searches through them blankly for a few minutes before Steve and Robin try helping with suggestions.

“I think some of The Go-Go’s are in there.”

“Steve had ‘Girls Just Wanna Have Fun’.”

“There’s definitely some Cyndi Lauper.”

“What was your old song again?” Robin asks.

“‘Hopelessly Devoted To You’. From Grease.”

Robin hums and stares into the bag. After a second, she starts picking handfuls of them out, picking each one intentionally but still grabbing more than enough for Chrissy to choose from until one catches her eye.

“Wait, wait, wait–”

Robin freezes, looking back to Chrissy with her arms still shoved in her bag, unmoving. Chrissy reaches over and picks up a tape that had already made it to Robin’s lap: a standard-looking cassette without its case and a couple of attempts at hearts drawn on it. It wasn’t the only cassette to have cute drawings—far from it—but it was the first one she saw with wonky hearts scribbled out then copied right next to it, like someone tried, failed, and then was told to bring their failure back instead of hiding it away.

She checks the other side. “Time After Time” by Cyndi Lauper.

“Steve gave that to me ages ago.” Robin hums, and Chrissy smiles, looking over at the other cassettes with little drawings on them.

“Was it the first one?”

“Second, technically, didn’t draw on Total Eclipse of the Heart until later.”

Chrissy nods, then looks up to Robin again.

“Would you mind…?”

“Oh, yeah, totally. I mean go for it. Worst case scenario: I’m still in touch with my dealer.” Robin jokes, making Steve snort as he stands and drops the bag over by the end of the couch.

Robin gets comfortable as Chrissy goes ahead and switches the tapes in her walkman, going to set her old one on a table nearby. When she turns back around, Robin is laying down on the couch, making grabby hands up towards Steve until he finishes his headcount and turns back around.

“What?” He laughs.

“Get over here, it’s my turn to be big.”

“Hm, if I have to.” Steve laughs and goes to settle with her before pausing and looking back over to Chrissy.

“You want on the couch, too?”

Chrissy goes over towards them and Steve smiles, taking that as her answer.

“We can leave you a spot if you want, or…”

Chrissy flushes but pointedly doesn’t take the offer for the separate spot on the couch, and luckily, Steve and Robin both figure out the answer without her having to say it.

Robin lays on her back half-propped up while Steve basically lays on top of her, spooning but with the little spoon on the verge of crushing the big spoon, but they seem more than content with it, Robin hugging Steve almost like a teddy bear. Steve gives Chrissy the go-ahead, so with her walkman in hand, she carefully takes the spot between him and the back of the couch. She brings the headphones up to her ears just as an arm comes around her back, the new melody fitting the new warmth she’s feeling deep down perfectly.

Chrissy lets one of her hands find Robin’s above her across the polo shirt pillow connecting them. Both the bodies laying with her relax, shifting slightly to get comfortable in their strange arrangement on the cramped couch, but the one thing that stays perfectly consistent is the slow rise and fall beneath her, the feather-light puffs tickling her hair, and the warmth of life enveloping her.

Chrissy knows it’s not perfect. The next few days will be far, far from kind to them. She knows that even when she wakes from this nightmare, she’ll just be stuck right back where she was before, working her ass off at cheer practice during the day and then begging their drug dealer for ketamine at night. The thought will probably never leave her mind.

But right now, Chrissy enjoys the new music playing in her ears, the familiar song with a man and a woman’s voices that feel uniquely alive right now, warm and safe and real.

If you’re lost,

You can look

And you will find me,

Time after time.

If you fall, 

I will catch you.

I’ll be waiting,

Time after time.

Chrissy falls asleep. No dreams, no Vecna, just sleep.

[missvelvetsstuff]

The Situation Room

Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary: After a mission almost gone wrong, Tony brings back Bucky's former assistant, who is also Bucky's ex. Can they work together without hurting each other? Will the whole truth about their break up finally come out?

Previous chapter

Maria looked at the floor "A background check was done by someone I thought I could trust but was apparently a double agent. When I did some digging I found that her real name is Emily Megan Pierce. I think Radar is in real trouble."

Chapter 11

Notes: I had this chapter half done on Monday and my mother in law passed early Tuesday morning so I've been helping my husband go thru her things and make funeral arrangements. I didn't think I'd finish this chapter but my insomnia decided to rear its head and here I am. We have a lot going on so idk when the next update will be but I've already started writing so hopefully not too long.

Warnings: swearing, angst

A week later the Avengers were still coming up empty in their search for Radar. Bucky and Maria had barely slept or eaten, both wracked with anxiety and guilt. They barely spoke except to go thru any leads they found and fight with each other over who was at fault. Each went from blaming the other to turning on themselves.

Bucky looked like Hell. Greasy hair, red rimmed eyes with dark circles. His face was gaunt from lack of food, he just couldn't eat it sleep no matter how he tried.

Maria was worse off since she had no enhancements. Every time she dozed off at the table in the situation room, she startled awake and downed more caffeine pills with a coffee chaser.

Nick Fury had been offsite for a few days, trying to connect with some of his informants to see if they had heard anything. When he arrived he was shocked to see the terrible shape they were in.

"Hill! Barnes! Get up and go to bed before I have a sedative administered and you're dragged back to your quarters."

His voice allowed no disagreement.

Maria clumsily stood up and shook her head "Boss, I can't. We have to find her." Her eyes filled with tears "She's, she was. Fuck" she wiped the tears away before they could fall. She held back a sob "I have to find her".

Nick grabbed her arms and ran his hands up to rub her shoulders, speaking softly "Maria. I know and we will find her but you're no good to me, to her, like this. You know there will likely be a fight to get her back and right now you would be a liability in a fight." He quickly hugged her. "Get something to eat and get some rest. I promise you'll be the first person notified when we get a lead."

He looked over at Bucky "I didn't forget you, Sargent. Go hit your rack and you'll be notified as soon as we have anything."

Bucky grumbled something but headed back to his room.

Fury sighed "Friday? Tell Rogers and Romanoff to come man the situation room while they sleep."

"Yes, Director Fury."

Two more weeks passed with no sign of Radar. There had been a couple of leads but they didn't pan out.

Bucky was feeling desperate. After being miserable for two years he had been hopeful, happy even and she was torn away from him.

After 6 long months the entire team was ready to give up but Bucky and Maria wouldn't stop. Both of them ended up being suspended because they couldn't focus on missions.

2 weeks after he was suspended, Bucky went to Radar's room, with flowers, as the sun was starting to rise. It was her birthday and he needed to feel closer to her. It was still dark in her room and he left the lights off, setting the flowers on her dresser and sitting on her bed.

He heard a yelp and jumped back up, shouting "Who the Hell are you? What are you doing in here?"

The lump mumbled and pushed the blanket down "What do you mean, Barnes? It's my room." She sat up "I know we've been getting along and all but letting yourself into my room without knocking is too much." She yawned "Besides, I'm sleepy. Come back after noon."

Bucky stared at her in shock then multiple questions rushed out "Y/N? When did you get back? Where have you been? Are you ok? What's going on?"

Radar yawned again "What are you talking about Barnes? I'm fine and haven't been anywhere. I dozed off after our talk and you carried me to bed." She looked up at him, confused "Didn't you? Maybe I was just too tired to remember coming to bed?"

Bucky couldn't speak for a moment, trying to figure out what she was saying "Y/N are you talking about the night you told me all about your past?"

Radar sighed "Yes, last night. What else would I be talking about?"

Bucky took a deep breath before speaking again "Doll, that was almost 7 months ago. Today is your birthday."

Radar scoffed "I don't think so Barnes, I'm not falling for your tricks. Was it Sam's idea?"

She climbed out of bed and put her robe on "I feel like I haven't slept at all and you have to come in with some prank."

Bucky stammered. "N n no no no, sweetheart, it it's not a joke. You went missing the morning after our talk. I've, I mean we we've been losing my I mean our minds trying to find you."

Radar shook her head "Seriously? Then why don't I remember anything after our talk last nite? I'm impressed with your commitment to the bit but I'm not buying it."

Bucky sighed "Fine, don't believe me. Friday, what day is it?"

Friday gave the date and that it was Radar's birthday.

Radar scowled at him "Then Tony's in on this too, he could have reprogrammed Friday to say that when you asked."

"Friday, when was Radar last in the compound"

Friday replied with the date Radar had disappeared including "6 months, 2 weeks and 3 days ago."

Radar sighed "Bucky, please. I'm too tired for this."

He grabbed her hand "Come on, I'll show you." And pulled her out of the room. She followed him into the hallway and towards the kitchen where she could hear the muted sound of people talking and moving around.

Radar saw Sam exit the kitchen and walk down the hall towards them, distracted by his phone until he ran into Bucky.

Sam looked up and smirked when he saw Bucky but his face dropped when he realized there was a woman who ran into Bucky's back when he stopped.

Sam looked back to Bucky and frowned "Who's your little friend here, Robocop?" When Radar pulled away from Bucky, Sam's jaw dropped "What the-" before his face broke into a huge smile as tears filled his eyes.

He reached for Radar to give her a hug and squeezed her tight "Holy shit, you're back. And in one piece. Damn, we've missed you."

Radar coughed and wheezed out "You're crushing me."

Sam let her go "I'm sorry but we thought we'd never see you again."

Radar shook her head and scowled at him "Of course you're in on this stupid prank. You just saw me yesterday. I haven't gone anywhere and I'm not falling for it."

Sam looked at Bucky with a question in his eyes "What is she talking about? What prank?"

Bucky shrugged "I went in her room to leave flowers for her birthday today, sat on her bed and there she was. Insisting that she never left. Thinks it's some elaborate prank since Friday confirmed what I told her. I thought seeing the rest of the team would convince her I was telling the truth."

Radar rolled her eyes "I have to give you both props for your commitment to the gag but I think I'd remember if I had left the compound or been kidnapped. So I'm still not buying it."

Bucky tried to calm her down "Ok, doll, calm down. Lets just get you some water and you can go back to bed, ok."

Radar shrugged "Whatever you want, I just need more sleep."

As they walked towards the kitchen, the voices became clearer. It was Steve and Nat joking around about some mission but Radar could feel that something was wrong, their voices had a sad lilt to them.

Steve looked past the breakfast bar and saw Bucky "Hey Buck, you want some eggs and bacon? I'm just getting started so can throw some extra in for you."

As Bucky came closer Steve saw someone behind him "Who do you have there? Is that Wanda? Does she want some food?"

Bucky stopped and pulled Radar out from behind him "What do you think, doll? Hungry for some eggs?"

Steve dropped the bowl he was mixing the eggs in, not even noticing when it hit the floor, broke and splashed eggs everywhere "Radar? When did you? But how? Where was?"

While Steve couldn't get a whole thought out, Nat jumped over the breakfast bar and pulled Radar into a hug. Nat started crying and babbling into Radar's shoulder "You're here, ohmygawd, you came back we thought-"

Radar interrupted "I know, I know, I was kidnapped and you thought I was dead or you'd never see me again. Damn, Nat, I'm disappointed, I didn't think you were into these dumb jokes that Sammy loves so much. I'm still not buying it."

Nat pulled back and looked at Radar, confused, then she turned to Bucky "What's she talking about?"

Bucky shrugged "Last thing she remembers is the night before she disappeared. She thinks we're playing a joke on her."

Radar shook her head "I'm impressed with your commitment to the gag but I'm supposed to believe I've just lost the last..." She turns to Bucky "what did you say today was?"

Bucky sighed "It's your birthday. You've been missing for over 6 months."

"Right. I've lost the last 6 plus months with zero memory. I mean really, would you believe it?"

Steve sighed "It's true but I think we need a team meeting. Friday, please call the team to the common room, asap. Fury and Hill too."

"Of course, Captain."

Radar walked into the kitchen and poured herself a cup of coffee, leaning against the counter as she sipped at it.

Multiple footsteps and voices came up the hall until Bruce and Wanda stopped in their tracks when they saw Radar.

Wanda squealed "Radar! You're back. Are you-"

Radar looked around at her friends with growing fear in her eyes "Ok guys, that's enough. You can let it go now, nice attempt to prank me but it's getting old."

Wanda looked at Bucky with questions in her eyes.

Radar heard Tony and Nick chatting in the other direction before they came into view and stopped dead when they saw her. They stared for a minute before looking at the team.

After a moment of tense silence Maria arrived and started crying as soon as she saw Radar "Radar? You're here? You're ok? I th, we thought you were-"

She couldn't keep talking as she sobbed and ran up to hug Radar.

Radar eyes grew wide and she went from nervous to terrified, knowing that Maria never took part in any of the teams pranks. She felt her knees buckle under her and Bucky barely caught her before she hit the floor. Nick grabbed Maria and walked her over to a chair.

Radar felt her heart racing and started hyperventilating, she tried to speak but couldn't catch her breath as Bucky whispered soothing words and rubbed her back. He helped her to the sofa and sat her next to him.

Tony was the next person to speak "This is not what I was expecting when Friday told me Cap wanted the team here but finding our wayward angel is the best surprise I can think of so does anyone want to fill me in?"

Bucky nodded "I went into her room because it's her birthday and when I sat on her bed, she yelled, scaring the shit outta me. Insists that she wasn't gone and accused me of pulling some prank. She didn't even believe Friday. I figured I'd bring her out so everyone could tell her but she didn't believe any of us." He looked at her "She seems to believe now."

Radar felt tears running down her face "I swear, the last thing I remember is having a hard time sleeping and talking to Bucky. I think we fell asleep on the couch watching tv. Then I woke up in my bed a few minutes ago when Bucky sat on me." She looked at him "What's going on?"

Bucky kept rubbing her back and told her about Meghan coming to her room and leaving the compound with her, how they discovered Meghan was Alexander Pierce's daughter. How they had been searching for her or any clue what had happened but every lead was a dead end and how she definitely wasn't there last night.

Tony spoke up "I don't know what happened but the first thing we need to do is wake Helen Cho and have her perform a complete physical to make sure you're ok and see if there are any clues to help solve this mystery."

Radar nodded "Yeah, uh ok. I don't know how anyone could wipe my memory like that but I can't remember a damn thing." She tried to focus and concentrate but it made her head ache and the harder she tried, the worse the pain was until she cried out.

Bucky pulled her into him "Hey, doll, it's gonna be ok. Don't hurt yourself trying to remember right now. I'll take you up to see Helen and we'll figure this out, ok?

I'll be right by your side for as long as you need me. I promise."

Radar looked at Bucky with tears in her eyes "Ok. I'm scared of what she will find but I need to know what the fuck is going on."

Steve started over with breakfast and Radar sat quietly, picking at her food until Friday told them that Helen was ready to see her. The team followed them to the medbay, Bucky holding her hand the entire way.

"Don't worry, doll. I've got you and I won't let go for as long as you need me."

Radar nodded and followed him into an exam room.

@unaxv @calwitch @buckitostan @cjand10 . @vicmc624 @sandrab02

[lmkimagines]

Pardon the anon ask, I'm always asking in Anon.

The blurbs about SWK, Macaque, and Red Son about kissing them to keep them in bed are super sweet. So, now I must ask:

What about the opposite? Kissing them to coax them to bed? Like kissing them on their head to catch their attention before going to sleep or similar. (No need for NSFW unless you want to. I was just thinking fluff.)

Mild angst in Wukong's part. Mention of nightmares.

Sun Wukong

He falls asleep pretty easily but that doesn’t mean he sleeps well. He has frequent nightmares and is usually up in the middle of the night because of them. They tend to repeat but he never gets used to them, especially the ones where he’s too late to save you. 

You wake up to him yelling “No!” and bolting up. You startle awake and ask if he’s okay and what’s going on. 

“Y-You’re here. You’re okay.” He mumbles then evens his voice out. “Yeah, I’m fine, peaches. Just a nightmare.” 

You tiredly whine as he gets up but he assures you that he’s just going to get some air. 

After half an hour, though, you decide to go find him. You find Wukong sitting on one of the ledges overlooking Flower Fruit Mountain. You call out to him and sit beside him. He gives you a forced smile that turns to a genuine soft smile as you ask him to come back to bed. 

When you start kissing him, the man absolutely melts into your touch. Finally giving a sigh of relief and relaxing, he agrees that you shouldn’t be out in the cold and carries you to bed. 

Red Son

He tends to lose track of time when he’s working so this ends up being a rather common occurrence. To the point that Princess Iron Fan will sometimes ask you to get her son to go to sleep. 

Tonight wasn’t one of those nights, however, you did miss him since he’d been in his workshop all day and barely came out even to eat. You briefly greeted his mom as you passed her in the hall. 

You call out his name as you enter his shop. The loud clanging that usually accompanies his work stopped. 

“Shouldn’t you be in bed, my love?” Red Son asked, turning in his chair to face you. You point out that it’s late and he should be in bed too. “But I really need to finish-” 

He stops his protest when you start pressing kisses to his face. His face goes red and his magic flares up, causing his hair to light on fire. You giggle at the warmth on your face and tell him how much you just wanna cuddle and go to sleep but you can’t do that without your wonderful partner. 

“I.. I suppose this will still be here in the morning…” He says, finally relenting. He gets up and follows you to your shared room where he gives in to your demands for cuddles. 

Macaque

He usually gets home in the middle of the night so the fact that you waited up for him at all surprises him. 

“Hey, sugarplum, You’re up awfully late.” He says with his characteristic grin. “Go ahead and head to bed. I’ll be in soon.” You protest that you’re not going to bed without him and he chuckles. 

His smile softens and he says “Stubborn little thing aren’t you?” You tell him that it’s not unfounded since only god knows how late he stays up on any given day. “Touche” 

He goes to start stripping out of his armor but you pull him in first and start kissing him. He smiles and gives you just as many kisses back as he gets into his pjs. 

“Are you trying to seduce me into decent sleeping habits?” He asks, lightly laughing. You ask if it’s working. “It might be. If I come home to this every day, I might have to get home a little earlier.” 

He suddenly picks you up and throws you over his shoulder. You laugh and kick your feet at him. He gives you a light slap on the but and carries you to the bedroom where he throws you on the bed, careful not to hit your head on the headboard.

He plops down right after you hit the bed and starts kissing you again. You laugh as his fur tickles you. You slap his arm and tell him to stop. And after that, he pulls you close and you two settle down to sleep.

[abyssal-author-and-artist]

My blog is generally pretty lighthearted and I stick to reblogging art and fic and fun stuff, but you know what. I feel like I need to say this.

I am a trans teen in the US. I'm seventeen, so too young to have voted. I'm terrified for my life right now. I usually post about college but I'm actually concurrently enrolled in high school still and the kid who sits behind me in first period government is a massive Trump fanboy. I'm going to have to go to high school Monday and talk about the election. I'm going to have to hear my deadname called and hear people in my super conservative high school talk about how happy they are Trump won. Everything is terrifying. I walk outside of my house and I'm scared I'll be shot. Several months ago I promised that I'd kill myself if that bastard won.

He did and I'm still here.

I'm not thriving. I'm not living my best life. I'm barely living. But I'm surviving. I'm coping. I'm trying my goddamned best. It's hard. I want so bad to just go and take as much medication as I can and slit my wrist for good measure and pass away in my sleep. But I'm still here. And I will be here.

I am in so much pain. But I'm living on spite and determination and everything I can scrape together. I know I need support and those around me need support. So consider this a support masterpost.

Support:

First thing you should see if you're a trans person in the US.

Here's a link to the Trevor Project and here's a link to their suicide hotline page. They've already saved my life once before. Please note - they recommend calling if you need immediate support. Donate if you can, please.

This post is both a suicide hotline masterlist and a post mentioning how something feels deeply wrong here with this election.

On the topic of something being wrong, sign this petition. I'm only seventeen but I did this and it might not feel like much but if we couldn't shoot that bastard (I am not pro-gun but I am when it comes to him) then we'll do the next best thing. Here's the link to the petition itself. Make sure to check the post every once in a while - the original petition got taken down and this is important.

I follow a lot of gimmick blogs, so I got to see this post encouraging us to be loud. Because we should be. Because if we die they've won and my mom didn't smoke weed on the steps of the state capital of Colorado to legalize it just so her son could roll over and die.

Here is the Tumblr Hot Beverage Masterpost, as I've taken to calling it. My personal favorites are the London Fog in the replies, earl grey with milk, honey, and vanilla (in the tags), and some additions from me are hot chocolate with peppermint melted into it, earl grey with lavender, caramel apple tea, and really anything else you can think of. Trust me. This post works better than you think.

Read this post if you haven't seen it already. It's half poem, half Tumblr being Tumblr, all wonderful to read.

Things I just like to see:

PM Seymour and Bettina Levy both have shown their support for everyone struggling right now. It might not be much, but I still really appreciate it and seeing support can really help.

The cat with the kind and reassuring face. No other context.

Four panel comic of hope. Because you're more than enough.

Can't find the post where I found this but this is a link to a virtual toy where you can make your own galaxy.

Please. Eat something. Drink a hot beverage. Draw, write, read, knit, sew, sculpt, bake, do something that helps. Reach out to friends, even if they're online friends. Talk to someone you trust. Make vent art. Write vent fics. It doesn't matter what you do as long as it helps.

Do not roll over and die. Live. Live on spite. Live on determination. Live on shitposts and live on heartfelt stories like this one. If you have anything to add to this post please do. Add more resources. Add more love to this post. I know I'm just a guy on the internet saying shit, but I still care about everyone who sees this post.