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reilemon · 14 days

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🫧Love Don't Be Shy🫧

♡︎ pairing: Rafayel x fem!reader

｡°⚠︎°｡MINORS DNI (18+ ONLY)｡°⚠︎°｡

♡︎cw:unprotected sex (as always), there's only one bed, sex toys, pulling out

♡︎word count: 2.9k

♡︎synopsis: Rafayel finds your mini "neck massager" while going through your makeup bag.

♡︎a/n: I hope you guys like how I wrote Rafayel.

♡︎ special thanks to my beta reader ♡︎@its-de♡︎ for reading and helping me with this

banner by @cafekitsune

A defeated sigh leaves your lips. You have to share the bed with your friend (employee?) Rafayel. You just nod when Rafayel checks with you if it's okay, and of course you agree because you don't want to go around searching for another hotel.

The last time you had to share a room, and the bed, you barely got any sleep as he was tossing and turning all night, stealing the duvet in consequence. You couldn't be too mad at him as you know how messed up his sleep schedule is. Also, he was so sweet for remembering your comment how you wished to see a certain spot at that place.

This time is no different; he organized this little trip for you to make good use of your vacation days. He researched all the restaurants that you'd like, shops that he'd like, fun and interesting places to visit, and always takes the best seats in the airplane. But he always forgets to book two rooms in advance!

It's not that bad, you tell yourself. You're very comfortable around Rafayel; he makes you feel safe and he adores spending time with you. It's just that you have your own night routine. And you can't do it with him in the same room.

Oh well, the vacation will fly by quickly.

Even with this little inconvenience, you wish it won't. Not because you don't want to get back to work, but because you also adore spending time with him. And lately, with every meeting you hope to become more than just friends (more than just an artist and his bodyguard).

⋆ ˚｡⋆꒰ა 🪼 ໒꒱⋆ ˚｡⋆

After unpacking Rafayel and you go outside to grab a quick bite at the city centre. Of course that turns into an impromptu shopping spree because the two of you stumbled upon a vintage flea market.

You drag your feet as Rafayel almost skips next to you, bags with little trinkets in his hands. It's a beautiful summer afternoon, with a refreshing breeze. You'd enjoy it more if there weren't so many people around.

He glances at your 'energetic' walk. "C'mon Miss Bodyguard, we had a good time there!"

You chuckle. "Sure, if you can call 'talking you out of buying everything you see' a good time."

"But everything was so beautiful!"

"Yes, but think of the luggage!"

He shifts his bags to one hand and offers you the free one with a soft smile. "Give me your hand. I don't want to get lost."

He says that, but he's the one leading you through the crowd.

⋆ ˚｡⋆꒰ა 🪼 ໒꒱⋆ ˚｡⋆

You had to take a little nap after coming back to your room, because Rafayel had more things planned for this evening, and you needed the energy. You wanted to look and feel good because you actually looked forward to it. You might've even bought some new outfits that you thought he'd like, even though he gives you compliments no matter how much effort you put into your appearance.

While you were asleep, Rafayel took a long shower.

When you awoke, you found him in your room with nothing but a towel wrapped around his hips.

You blush and avert your gaze, opting to just not comment on it. "Are you at least wearing underwear?" You commented on it.

He looks down, like he forgot about his state of almost-undress. "I do. Wanna check?" His hand resting on the towel knot.

Your hand immediately shoots up to cover your view of whatever he's about to show you. "It's fine! I just didn't expect this to be the first thing I see after a nap!"

He laughs and strolls towards the closet. "You saw me in a bathing suit plenty of times. This towel covers more."

You can't help but sneak a peek at his toned back while he's picking out an outfit. For someone who claims to hate working out, he's more than fit. You can clearly see the way his muscles are carved under his pale still damp skin and the way they flex as he moves. As he turns around, you can’t help but crave to graze your hand over his defined abs and those veins leading down to -

"Like what you see?"

Caught red handed, you snap your head in the opposite direction, your face burning with embarrassment.

"I'll go take a shower." You mumble as you snatch your underwear and a nightdress from a drawer and escape to the bathroom, blushing even more as you catch Rafayel's mischievous laugh.

⋆ ˚｡⋆꒰ა 🪼 ໒꒱⋆ ˚｡⋆

Refreshed, and not at all embarrassed anymore, you emerge from the bathroom to get your makeup bag. You don't know whether to put the outfit on before the makeup, or the other way around...

Your brain short circuits when your eyes land on Rafayel holding your makeup bag in one hand - and your mini vibrator in the other.

He holds it up and studies it "Is this like a mini neck massager?"

You're frozen in place. Your body is discovering new levels of embarrassment.

Hearing nothing from you, his attention shifts to your figure. You don't register the way his eyes admire you in your little nightdress. "Well?" He presses the little button and the little buzzing sound hits your ears like crashing waves of sweat hitting your body.

He's teasing you. He has got to be teasing you. Like he always is. There's no way he thinks this is for his neck!

"Give it back." You croak, your throat dry.

"Why? You don't want to show me how to use it?" He's really going through with this little bit.

"Why were you even going through my makeup bag?"

He explains how he forgot to pack some cream and wanted to borrow it from you, or something like that, you barely listened because he was not letting go of the little bullet vibrator. He's put down the makeup bag, but not the toy!

The buzzing gets stronger as Rafayel's finger presses the button multiple times. "So, which setting is the best?"

He flinches as you basically hurl yourself towards him to take back what's yours. He holds it in the air, away from your reach.

"What's up with you?" his eyebrows knot, cheeks lightly red at the close proximity.

"Give it back!"

Finding your frustration confusing but at the same time cute and amusing, he continues to keep it out of your reach, letting you chase him around the room.

"Nuh - uh!" he laughs and turns to you, only for his face to be met with a white fluffy pillow.

You smacked him across the face, not too hard of course; you're still his body guard. You earn a little 'hey!' with a flushed face and to defend himself, he puts the toy in his pocket and grabs his own pillow. You didn't even notice how good his outfit looked.

The two of you end up in a brief pillow fight - mostly him taking hits while you managed to dodge most of them. But then Rafayel swiftly snatches your pillow, and pins you down on the bed, holding your wrists in his hand and resting his knees on the bed.

He asks, out of breath "Is it not a neck massager?" While you were in a pillow fight he caught on how red your face is and how that shape doesn't seem like it's for the neck.

You struggle under him, aware of how your nightdress lifted under the impact, and how your breasts are on the verge of spilling out. A small whine leaves your lips in frustration as he's so much stronger than you.

"Yes! It's my vibrator, okay?" you can't meet his gaze. You're sure you look so damn pathetic right now.

But you don't see the delight in Rafayel's eyes as he takes in your cute flushed pouting face. He can't help but take a peek of your figure under him, the way your tits are barely covered, the hem of your dress lifted to show off your plush thighs pressed together.

He releases his hold on you and sits back, still straddling you. "Is that why you were upset over one room? You could've just told me and I would've taken a walk or something. Maybe even get you a snack to replenish your energy."

You could not be more mortified. Your eyes are still fixed somewhere to the side and your lips don't move.

His fingers softly hold your chin and you muster the courage to look him in the eyes. You notice how messy his curls are. "There's nothing to be ashamed of." He reassures you with a soft smile, and hands you over the wretched thing.

And you loved that about Rafayel - he knew when to stop teasing and when it's time to give you reassurance.

Still, you needed your little revenge.

It doesn't matter that he's stronger than you, you still have your hunter skills, and in a blink of an eye, you switch positions, straddling his lap.

He opens his mouth to make some dirty joke but only a yelp gets out when you suddenly press the buzzing toy on his side while locking his wrists with your hand.

He pleads for mercy as you continue to run the vibrator on second to highest setting all over his torso.

A blush creeps up on your cheeks, and heat pools between your legs as his whimpers and gasps keep leaving his plump lips and his body squirms under you, his crotch grazing your bottom.

Flustered and out of breath, Rafayel had enough of the torture and pins you down again - pressing you in the same position you had him in, but with his knee so dangerously close to your clothed heat.

"You're being cruel, kitten." he breathes, his tone a little too calm for your liking.

He takes the toy from you and starts sliding it down the middle of your belly, the contact making you squirm and laugh a little. "I was being supportive here and you go and start torturing me."

"I was embarrassed!" you scream between laughs and pants.

He complains in his playful manner about how you attacked him while he was so confused, you can barely hear him over your involuntarily laughs. In your squirms and attempts to break free, your core grinds more than once against his knee and upper thigh.

And maybe he's inching his knee closer to you.

You open your eyes when you don't feel the tickles anymore. You're met with his soft hooded eyes.

"I want to make it up to you, darling."

He studies your face as his hand moves up and a gasp leaves your lips as it lightly grazes the underside of your breast over with the vibrating toy.

He repeats the same motion on the other breast. "Do you want me to stop?"

You sheepishly shake your head.

The grip on your wrists loosens, but you let him hold you down.

Finally, he gives attention to your already pebbled nipples, carefully rubbing circles around them. His eyes take in your flushed face - beautiful lips parted as you pant underneath him, eyes veiled with lust and desperation for more, sensitive nipples poking through the thin fabric of your nightdress.

Your panties are damp with the attention on your nipples and core grinding against his knee. And with Rafayel on top of you, with his cheeks flushed, messy hair and half lidded eyes gazing at you with adoration, you crave more.

He doesn't need to read your thoughts to know what you need. Your hips are desperately pressing against him, soaked panties leaving a wet patch on his pants.

A playful smirk stretches his lips, but he fights the urge to tease you. Instead, his hand trails down, avoiding your tummy this time, and presses the toy on your inner thigh, earning a jolt from your legs and a whimper from your lips. With his slender fingers, he lifts up the hem of your dress, exposing your panties.

You feel his knee move back, but still touching your clothed heat. Pressing the button for the lowest setting, he places the vibrating tip of the toy right between your folds, the familiar sensation of the vibrator making you moan. Only it's different now, because Rafayel is the one pressing it against you, the one making you feel so good, which makes you cream, your heart beating against your chest, your face and chest burning with need and desire.

With more confidence, Rafayel starts pressing and slowly rubbing your sensitive bud. "You like that princess? Does it feel good?"

You frantically nod, your pussy already throbbing with an impending orgasm. "Just like that!" You manage to breathe out.

His cock is painfully hard in his boxers, straining in his tight pants. He feels like he could cum just watching your beautiful face dazed with lust and listening to your sinful moans. Soft pants are leaving his lips "Fuck, you're so beautiful."

He releases your wrists to rest his elbow next to your head and he dips down, latching his lips with yours. You reciprocate immediately, wrapping your arms around his neck, relishing in the feeling of finally tasting his gorgeous pink lips.

Both of you are a panting mess, kissing sloppily, saliva dripping from the corners of your mouth as your tongue intertwines with his.

And all of this is becoming too much for you, and you already feel the coil in your stomach is about to snap any second. You snatch the collar of his shirt, probably ripping from how tight you're gripping it. "Don't stop, I'm cummin' - !"

He watches you in awe as you tremble and mewl underneath him, unable to kiss him back as the waves of your release overtake you. His lips latch onto your neck as he uses his thumb and knee to help you come down from your high. His breath is trembling as he sucks and licks the sensitive skin on your neck, his face burning and cock throbbing.

He almost whines in your ear "Please, please princess, I need to fuck you so bad..."

Your fingers interlace with his messy curls and he lifts up his head to meet your eyes. His cheeks and ears are burning red, eyes pleading and hooded with lust.

You softly whisper "I need you."

The same second he hears those words, his working hand frantically works his belt and the pants, a sigh of relief leaving his lips as his hot leaking cock is freed. He wants to take his sweet time with you, worshipping you, but he's already on the brink.

And you're so impatient; you pull your panties to the side and take his cock in your hand and tease the tip against your dripping pussy, the action making the man above you whimper.

"Fuck, princess!" He moves your hand away and squeezes the angry red tip. "Watching you got me so worked up, I don't think I'm gonna last long." He admits with a weak smile.

You pull him into a soft kiss "That's okay, you already made me cum so hard."

He kisses your lips and slowly starts sliding in, a gasp leaving both of your lips. He rests his forehead against yours, eyes squeezed shut as he eases into your sopping cunt.

You bite his delicious bottom lip as he buries himself to the hilt, your walls fluttering around his cock and you feel like you're about to cum again. You release his bottom lip and you move onto kissing his jaw and neck. Fuck, he smells so good.

He stays still as he tries to hold onto his sanity. His hot breath fans over your ear "You're squeezing me so hard, doll."

You wiggle your hips and press his lower back, urging him to start moving. Exhaling a shaky breath, his hips slowly start rolling, yours moving at the same pace. Mewls and moans are leaving your lips, as his cock keeps stroking the sweet spot inside you, glazing his length in your slick.

Rafayel needs to make you cum around his cock, but he’s already so painfully close, with your wet walls squeezing him so hard, your pretty lips on his neck and your bewitching voice in his ear.

He was so captivated by you that he almost forgot about the little toy lying next to you.

Your eyes widen when you see him snatch the toy and turns it on to a higher setting and props himself up, angling his hips to reach your swollen and twitching bundle of nerves. Intense shocks of pleasure take over your body as he starts rubbing the vibrator again, and in seconds you're a whimpering mess as his cock thrusts into you, repeatedly hitting that sensitive spot, and his hand pressing the toy on your clit.

"Raf - I -" Is all you manage to say before another orgasm overtakes you, your breath catching in your throat and for a second you think you're going to pass out. You can barely hear Rafayel's soothing and strained whispers of you how gorgeous you are and how pretty you sound.

But hear him whimper "I'm gonna cum, princess."

He tosses the drenched vibrator to the side and with a squelching sound pulls out of you, and your hips twitch as he presses the tip against your still throbbing clit as he jerks himself off, ropes of hot cum spilling all over your belly and drenched cunt. You’re thankful he pulled up your dress in the process, but you wouldn’t mind if he stained it.

After both of you take a moment to catch your breath, he puts his weight on you and you wrap your arms around his back squeezing him tight.

He peppers you with soft kisses all over your cheeks, your nose, your eyelids. His fingers caress your face.

He chuckles with that playful smirk on his lips. "I should snoop around your stuff more often."

#love and deepspace #rafayel love and deepspace #love and deepspace smut #love and deepspace rafayel #rafayel smut #lads smut #lads x reader #lads rafayel #rafayel x reader #rafayel x you

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physalian · 2 months

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What No One Tells you about Writing #3

Opening this up to writing as a whole, because it turns out I have a lot more to say!

Part 1

Part 2

1. You don’t fall in love with your characters immediately

But when you do, it’s a hit of serotonin like no other. I’d been writing a tight cast of characters for my sci-fi series since 2016 and switched over in a bout of writer’s block this year to my new fantasy book. I made it about ⅓ through writing the book going through the motions, unable to visualize what these new characters look like, sound like, or would behave like without a ‘camera’ on them.

Then, all of a sudden, I opened my document to keep on chugging with the first draft, and it clicked. They were no longer faceless elements of my plot, they were my characters and I was excited to see what they could accomplish, rooting for them to succeed. Sometimes, it takes a while, but it does come.

2. Sometimes a smaller edit is better than a massive rewrite

Unless you’re changing the trajectory of your entire plot, or a character’s arc really is unrecoverable, sometimes even a single line of dialogue, a single paragraph of introspection, or a quick exchange between two characters can change everything. If something isn’t working, or your beta readers consistently aren’t jiving with a character you yourself love, try taking a step back, looking at who they are as a person, and boil down what your feedback is telling you and it might demand a simpler fix than you expect.

Tiny details inserted at the right moment can move mountains. Fan theories stand on the backs of these minutiae. One sentence can turn a platonic relationship romantic. One sentence can unravel a fair and just argument. One sentence can fill or open a massive plot hole.

3. Outline? What outline?

Not every book demands weeks upon weeks of prep and worldbuilding. I would argue that jumping right in with only a vague direction in mind gives you a massive advantage: You can’t infodump research you haven’t done. Exposition is forced to come as the plot demands it, because you haven’t designed it yet.

Not every story is simple and straightforward, but even penning the first draft with your vague plan, *then* going back and adding in deeper worldbuilding elements, more thematic details, richer character development, can get you over the writer’s block hurdle and make it far less intimidating to just shut up and write the book.

4. It’s okay to let your characters take the wheel

I’ve seen writing advice that chastises authors who let their characters run wild, off the plan the story has for them. Yeah, doing this can harm your pacing and muddy a strong and consistent arc, but refusing to leave the box of your outline greatly limits your creativity. I do this particularly when writing romantic relationships (and end up like Captain Crunch going Oops! All Gays!).

Did I plan for these two to get together? No, it just happened organically as I wrote them talking, getting closer, getting to know each other better in the circumstances they find themselves in. Was this character meant to be gay? Well, he wasn’t meant to be straight, but you know what, he’d work really well with this other boy over here. None of that would have happened if I was bound and determined to follow my original plan, because my original plan didn’t account for how the story that I want to tell evolves. You aren’t clairvoyant—it’s okay if it didn’t end up where you thought it would.

5. Fight. Scenes. Suck.

Which is crazy because I love fantasy and sci-fi, the actiony-est genres. Some authors love battle scenes and fistfights. It comes naturally to them and I will forever be jealous. I hate fight scenes. I hate blocking and choreographing them. I hate how it doesn’t read like I’m watching a movie. I hate how it could take me hours to write a scene I can read in 5 minutes. I hate that there’s no way around it except to just not write them, or put in the elbow grease and practice.

Whatever your writing kryptonite is, don’t be too hard on yourself. It won’t ever replicate the movie in your head, but our audience isn’t privy to that movie and will be none the wiser of how this didn’t fit your expectations, because it’s probably awesome on its own. It could be a fight scene, sex scene, epic battle, cavalry charge, courtroom argument, car chase—whatever. Be patient, and kind to yourself and it will all come together.

6. Write the scenes you want to write first

And then be prepared to never use them. It can be mighty difficult working backwards from a climax and figuring out how to write the story around it, but if you’re sitting at your laptop staring at your cursor and watching it blink, stuck on a tedious moment that’s necessary but frustrating, go write something exciting. Even if that amazing scene ends up no longer working in the book your story becomes, you still get practice by writing it. Particularly if you hate beginnings or the pressure of a perfect first page is too high, you’re allowed to write any other moment in the book first.

And with that, be prepared to kill your darlings. Not your characters, I mean that one badass line of dialogue living rent free in your head. That epic monologue. That whump scenario for your favorite character. Sometimes it just doesn’t work out anymore, but even if it ends up in the trash, you can always salvage something from it, even if that’s only the knowledge of what not to do in the future.

7. “This is clearly an author insert.” … Yes. It is. Point?

No one likes Mary Sues, because a character who doesn’t struggle or learn to get everything they want in life is uncompelling. The most flagrant author inserts I see aren’t Mary Sues, they’re nerdy, awkward, boring white guys whose world changes to fit their perspective, instead of the other way around—they don’t have anything to say. I’m not the intended audience to relate to these characters and I accept that, but I don’t empathize with the so-called “strong female character” who also doesn’t have flaws or an arc either.

A good author insert? When the author gives their characters pieces of themselves. When the “author insert” struggles and learns and grows and it’s a therapeutic experience just writing these characters thrown into such horrible situations. They feel human when they’re given pieces of a human’s soul. They have real human flaws and idiosyncrasies. I don’t care if the author wrote themselves as the protagonist. I care that this protagonist is entertaining. So if you want to make yourself the hero of your book, go for it! But make sure you look in the mirror and write in your flaws, as much as your strengths.

#writing advice #writing resources #writing tips #writing tools #writing a book #writing #writeblr #fantasy #scifi #what no one tells you about writing

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writteninlunarlight-years · 9 days

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Could I ask for an Alastor getting Hanahaki over Reader and everyone has to chip in to help him out? He's afraid of losing them as they're the only one who's never been afraid of Alastor (sure the Radio Demon part is creepy asf but Reader looks past it to befriend him) and would rather die alone then lose their presence.

The others figure out what Hanahaki is after finding him coughing up flowers one day and they each pitch in to help him through it; even Lucifer helps. And Charlie threatens Al with telling Rosie and Mimzy (you decide if they need to get involved)

Just everyone helping Alastor not second-die, him being confused as to why they're helping him and learning he has more friends then he realizes (and is nicer to them as it goes on) and also Reader being incredibly fucking confused as to what's been going on.

Sorry if it's a lot! And thank you in advance if you decide to write it ^-^

~~~ ALASTOR X READER ~~~

Hanahaki! Alastor x F!Reader

'A flower cannot blossom without sunshine, and a man cannot live without love." - Max Muller

Trigger Warning: mentions abuse, vomiting, near-death experiences, cringe obliviousness

Alastor knew he was feared among mortals and sinners. He was the equivalent of a boogie man, so to speak. He had no time for trivial things like love, relationships, or weakness. He had to be strong, always ahead of the game, and ready to take anyone who dared to oppose him. Well, that was till you came along. You were an enigma; he had heard about you when you appeared in the realm of sinners; however, you were fierce in the human world. Every man that wrongly touched a woman or attacked a woman was soon dealt with by your hand. You tortured them, strung them up, and ended their lives slowly. Alastor was impressed, to say the least.

However, when you turned up on the Hotel's doorstep six months ago, you were anything but scary. You looked innocent, almost too innocent. Alastor tried so hard to hate you to think nothing but the worst in you, but you had a grip on him. It's not every day that someone is entirely unphased by him. The day you two met was like nothing before; everyone in hell knew of him and his reputation. You even did, too; you had to have known of this since Rosie was the one who suggested you find refuge in the Hotel. Yet you looked up at him when he loomed over you and just smiled.

The Radio Demon was known for the catchphrase 'never truly dressed without a smile,' but somehow yours was just as off-putting as his, like you learned something no one else ever would. He enjoyed that about you. That you were so full of kindness and energy but also something so dark and twisted. Before Alastor knew it, he took you in as an apprentice. The end goal is to teach you his ways and your soul; well, that would be his. That was always the plan to create a powerful accomplice to assist in his dirty deeds, yet something changed over time.

Alastor didn't remember when he started protecting, defending, or even fighting for you. It all happened out of nowhere. He hated all of it, but he couldn't stop himself. Slowly, as time passed, he sought guidance for these newfound emotions, leading us to now.

Alastor made his way to the bookshop in town, the best place to get anything involving the damned and dead. These newfound feelings could be an ailment of sorts, perhaps. As he perused the books, he bumped into you, of all people. Shocked, he spoke, "Hello, doll, good to see you here. Are you catching up on some light reading?"

As he said this, he looked down at the book in your hand and noticed the book was covered in an arrangement of flowers. It's odd for being a book in hell for it to look so innocent and cheap. As he was questioning the existence of this book, you spoke up. "Alastor, what a pleasure it is to see you here! I was researching sicknesses and curses from the mortal realm when I stumbled upon this book. It's pretty, no?"

Alastor looked at you and the sweet look in your eyes and couldn't help but nod in agreement with you. God, if he truly existed, needed to help get him whatever cure was necessary for these stupid thoughts. Alastor took the book from your hands, observing the details, and flipped through the pages gently. He looked back over to you when he spoke. "Dear, why don't I buy this for you? If I remember correctly, you have a date with Ms. Rosie soon. I would hate for you to miss your confidential meet-up."

You nodded gently, smiling that same eerie smile as always, making your way out the door, not before leaving a generous tip for the demon at the counter. You were always kind and gentle to those who had done no wrong to you or your loved ones. Yet when someone wronged anyone close to you, they would coincidentally go missing. You were like a gorgeous rose with those incredibly thin secret thorns. Alastor went to the front soon after you and placed the books you two had found on the front counter. As the shopkeeper looked up to see the grinning radio host, he just ducked back down, minding his business. Alastor smiled, dropping some coins in the jar before returning to the hotel.

Once inside, Alastor made his way to his tower, ready to read the books that may cure these insufferable feelings he has been having towards you. The first book on the document, "Freudian Emotions," As Alastor read through the book, he couldn't help but be mildly disgusted and enamored with the literature. Who just openly admits they were in love with their mother? Who was the man who wrote this book? Deeming the book unsatisfactory, Alastor moved on to the next, "How to know understand your darker feelings". This book pertains to many of Alastor's emotions when he was in the mood to kill or harm. Only the chapter 'Lust' has mild insinuations of the random emotions he was suddenly feeling. Another dud he surely would need to pay that shop keeps another visit to request better literature.

As Alastor thought everything was lost, he noticed your book again. Taking a closer look at it, one would call it eloquent. The sage green cover was adorned with thousands of different flowers. The title reading, "Ancient Alments of the Flowers and Gods," piqued his interest greatly. As he skimmed through the pages, he saw countless excerpts about those who scorned the gods and curses placed upon them. One specific page really caught his attention, it was about an ailment called 'Hanahaki'. Someone with feelings of unrequited love would profusely vomit flowers till their feelings were requited. The other option was an intense surgical procedure that would leave the person affected loveless. Underneath a picture of a young girl with flowers around her and coming out of her mouth was a message. It was hard to make out; Alastor moved the book closer to his face.

Squinting closer at the message, Alastor mumbled, 'A Flower Can Not Blossom Without Sunshine, Just As One Can Not Live Life Without Love.' As those words left his mouth, his fate was sealed. A sudden urge to get sick overtook Alastor as he dropped the book on the ground and ran to the bathroom down the hall. There, he passed a confused Angel Dust, putting on more makeup in the mirror. Alastor made it to the toilet where he proceeded to get violently ill.....with......flowers. Flowers? Why flowers? As Alastor tried to process the turn of events, Angel Dust popped his head in. "Uh, radio man, you good? I don't think I have ever seen you get sic- Oh god, why are there flowers everywhere?"

Before Alastor could pop his head up enough to respond, he threw up more flowers. Standing up woozy, he washed his face in the sink before turning to the spider demon. "I don't know what's wrong. I read this book Y/N bought, and now I am seemingly throwing up flowers."

Angel nodded, lending a hand to the demon and helping him straighten himself out. The two started to head out of the bathroom when the woman herself appeared out of nowhere. "Hi, guys! Oh, Alastor, are you okay?" Concern was evident in her voice, and it was adorable when she worried about him.

Before Alastor knew it, though, he was pushing Angel towards the girl and returning to throw up some more. With some gentle words from Angel and a lot of persistence, finally Y/N left. Once she was far enough away, Alastor was freed from the clutches of flowers once again. Sighing, he turned to the spider demon, "Angel, good fellow, I need to find where I dropped that book."

Angel joined Alastor in the hunt for the book and kept Y/N away. Luckily, they made it back to the radio tower unscathed. Once the book was found, Angel and Alastor began digging into it. Nothing came of it except a simple smirk from Angel. "Alastor, do you have feelings for little Miss Y/N?"

Alastor looked at the demon, puzzled. What a stupid question to ask while he was here, vomiting flowers. Yes, he had some odd feelings he didn't understand right now, but nothing like what that stupid book described. Angel sighed, shaking his head, and went for the door. Alastor was in a panic, "Where are you going? Are you not going to help me?"

Angel turned to Alastor, "I'm going to get more help because you obviously don't realize what everyone has been seeing since the day that girl arrived."

Alastor looked at Angel quizzically as he left. Sitting on the floor of the tower, he thought about everything. He understood the explanation of the curse in that stupid book was about someone loving another who didn't return the feelings, but he had never experienced love before. Well, he had for his momma, but not another. Would he describe these odd feelings he had for you as love? While lost in thought, Angel appeared with Husk, Charlie, and Vaggie hot on his tail.

As Alastor was snapped out of his thoughts, a concerned Charlie appeared before him. "Alastor! Angel told us everything. Are you alright? Where is Y/N? Should she be here too?"

As the young girl's name left the princess's lips, the sick feeling happened again. He turned to his side and started to vomit more flowers. Everyone was in shock. When he was done, he turned and looked up at the others. Angel picked up the cursed book and handed it to the others for them to read. It clicked for everyone as soon as they got to the message at the bottom. Alastor was in love but didn't realize it.

Alastor sat weak and groggy, observing from the sideline as everyone huddled together. Rolling his eyes, he went to stand and go about his day when he was ushered into his seat by the group. Now, sitting in his hosting chair, everyone lined up before him. Charlie stepped forward, "Alastor, you are in love with Y/N!"

Again, as the name left Charlie's lips, Alastor doubled over, vomiting profusely. Flowers littered the room; all anyone really could think was that at least it smelt good. Angel placed his hand on the Radio Demon's shoulder and turned to Charlie, "Toots, I think we should avoid saying her name for now until at least we come up with a plan."

Alastor shook his head and looked up. "Where is she? I don't know what will happen if I see her again right now. Just her name is causing this. I would hate for it to be worse."

Everyone nodded. Husk said, "After Angel told me what was happening, I convinced her Rosie needed her." A sigh of relief was heard from everyone in the room. Alastor looked to the crew in front of him and spoke again, "I don't even know what love is, so why has that damned book cursed me?"

The group looked at each other and nodded, lining back up. Angel stepped forward first: "Exhibit A, When she who shall not be named appeared at the hotel, she was unafraid of you. You came to me later that evening and asked if your name was still prevalent in the demon community. When I confirmed it was, you stared at her for hours and kept mumbling, 'Fascinating, truly fascinating.'

Alastor blanched at the omission, not ready for the retelling of the last six months of his life. He couldn't deny, though, that having someone not immediately afraid of him was refreshing. Over the six months he had known you, he repeatedly tried to make you scared. Nothing happened, though. You always just smiled and went about your day with him.

Next up was Vaggie, "When we were all practicing for the war with the angels, and she was fighting with one of the cannibals, you asked me how her form was so perfect. You were enamored with her when I explained that she had to have been a fighter in one of her lifetimes. I don't think you stopped staring at her while she was practicing that whole day."

Alastor turned his head away from his friends, feeling a bit warm. He couldn't deny your fighting form was gorgeous. You were fierce on the field that day. Constantly slaying enemies, though you were beautiful in red, the Gold that adorned your face after you slew the angels was something else. Not to mention, you were the one who found him in the wreckage of the radio tower that day. You helped him and tended to his wounds before returning to the others during the rebuild phase. He vividly remembers how you were right there, so close yet so far.

Husk stepped up to the plate: "The night that she drank herself silly at the bar after losing Pentious, you sat with her the whole night while she talked. You never do that, and I would know. You even carried her to her room when she passed out."

It was confirmed that he watched you drink your heart out once the hotel was rebuilt. Crying profusely over the snake man. A part of him felt anger that you felt so strongly towards another, but it also hurt him to see someone he 'cared' for hurting. When you finally passed out, he realized how soft your features were. You were so calm and delicate but also so fierce and aggressive. He picked you up so delicately and carried you to your room across the hotel. When he laid you down, you gripped him and mumbled, 'Be safe, Alastor, please.' Hearing that, his heart was alight.

Finally, Charlie took center stage, " On top of all these instances, you've not once asked for her soul, nor have you made a deal with her, nor have you made any insulting comments."

Alastor stalled....was that true? He knew deep down it was. He continually lied to himself; he was only interested in you because he wanted your soul. Did he really want to force you into servitude, though? Everything came crashing down on Alastor so quickly. There was no way was he....was he...in love. As the pieces clicked for the Radio Demon he hunched over in the chair spilling his guts full of flowers out, this time they weren't just any flowers, they were Roses. He always compared you to roses, your beautiful soft exterior covered with those hidden thorns.

As the coughing of flowers ended, he looked at his friends. They all were smiling, waiting for him to admit it himself. Alastor didn't know what scared him the most: that he loved you or that all these people cared enough about him to remember such antics. Did these people actually have so little time in their dreary lives? "Thank you all for the trip down memory lane, though I understand I apparently love......her......how does this help my situation?"

The group looked astonished at the thanks but contemplated the weight of his words. It's great he understood, but how did you feel? You were an enigma to everyone, eager to help and lend a hand but keeping your heart close to your chest. Charlie, in all her wisdom, spoke, "Go to Rosies and profess your love right now! No woman can resist a sweet confession!"

Angel laughed, "Sorry, toots, but I would deny a man who went to tell me he loved me and then vomited on me."

Husk said, "At least the vomit is flowers that could be a plus if not mildly concerning for the girl."

Alastor listened to everyone's points; going to Rosie wouldn't do, and it would just be too much and embarrassing. He had a front to keep all these other demons in the realm, still had to know who was in charge. While everyone was deep in thought, the door to the radio tower opened. Everyone turned to the noise. Alastor, still sitting, couldn't see what was happening. "I heard from a little birdie's phone that we need a magical love confession!" Oh god not Lucifer, may an Exicutioner strike Alastor down now.

"Dad! Yes, Alastor needs an amazing proposal that won't be hindered by his uh issues." Charlie exclaimed.

"Oh, you are talking to the king of romance, baby! Here's the plan!"

~~~~~ Time Jump ~~~~~

A week had passed since Alastor came to terms with his feelings and realized he had more friends than not. However, this elaborate plan for each person in the hotel to try and get Y/N to confess she had feelings too was becoming too much. The symptoms of the Hanahaki were becoming too much. Her voice alone now was making him vomit. So far, each attempted love confession ended with the girl being overly confused and concerned about where Alastor was hiding. They usually were inseparable, but he had avoided her for a week since the bookstore.

This is where Lucifer's plan came to a head; see what he told everyone to do: get her to confess. In reality, he planted the seeds of worry and doubt in the young girl's mind. If she also loved Alastor, she would seek him out and confess herself. Maybe she was just as oblivious as the Radio Demon. The sweet, innocent young demon was starting to bear her fangs and claws, as luck would have it. Lucifer was an avid Kdrama stan. Of course, he knew how this troupe would play out and took the right amount of push from the group.

Alastor was also growing to miss you; the more he agreed with his feelings, the more he was worried about what you were doing if you hated him for disappearing, and if you were going to accept him. As the thoughts plagued his mind, a timid knock was heard on his door. Standing up and straightening himself out, Alastor opened the door. There you stood in all your glory. He could tell you hadn't been sleeping from the bags under your eyes, and you looked a little pale, probably from not caring for yourself from worry. He was so happy to see you, ecstatic that you cared! Well, till he started to vomit flowers again.

Panic ran across your face as you reached out to help Alastor; however, your touch only worsened things. The flowers were changing colors; rushing to sit him down, you noticed the book you had wanted to buy a week ago. Picking it up on the page it was on, you saw the term 'Hanahaki.' Reading through the page after noticing the girl in the picture had the same ailment as Alastor, you grew upset. He was in love with someone....who? You got to the part of the passage that has a message. 'A Flower Can Not Blossom Without Sunshine, Just As One Can Not Live Life Without Love.' As you spoke those words, Alastor grew worried. What if the same aliment that was affecting him now also affected you. Not only would he worry about your health, but he would know you didn't love him.

After a few minutes, nothing happened; Alastor didn't know how to feel. Were you not in love at all? While contemplating all these thoughts, the flowers came up again, so you didn't love him back; he would have to resort to some stupid surgery to be okay again. Coughing out the last flowers, Alastor stood, "I'll be fine, doll. Just leave me be."

"Who is she...or he...whoever?" He could hear the sadness in your voice. Why were you asking him who caused his ailment?

"Never mind....we should get you help.... or get you to confess something so you can live normally again." You were doing everything in your power to hold back the tears. Alastor reached out and moved some fallen hair behind your ear.

"Who do you want me to be in love with?" Alastor spoke timidly for the first time in his lifetimes since he was a child. He was afraid of your rejection, the illness, something, anything. You did so many strange things to him. As you looked up into his eyes and he saw the hints of tears forming, for once, he didn't feel like vomiting. Slowly inching forward, he placed a soft kiss on your lips. Gently, like at any moment, everything could be ruined.

When you kissed back, Alastor felt light. Once you two pulled away for air, he was prepared for more flowers. Your voice alone made him throw them up; he was worried about touching you. Nothing came. He looked down at you once more and smiled his signature grin. "Doll, I dare say, do you love me back? No wonder you didn't get cursed with the ailment when you read the passage."

You smiled softly at him, wrapping him in a hug. Things were back to normal again, and now, with you two together, hell had a whole new list of worries to deal with. Who knew the Radio Demon would only grow stronger once he found the love of his lifetime?

#x reader #alastor #alastor the radio demon #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor x reader #radio demon #hazbin #hazbinhotel #hazbin hotel #hotel hazbin #hazbin hotel x reader

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etherealyoungk · 8 months

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comfort and love - hoshi

pairing: hoshi x fem!reader

warnings: reader has their period, fluff

word count: 1.1k

when you wake up feeling icky and your stomach lightly paining, you internally groan because you know your period started. you change and go back to sleep, only to wake up a few hours later to your doorbell ringing and you wake up sleepy and dazed. when you open the door to a smiling hoshi. your heart sinks because you forget to tell him you couldn't make it to the date he had planned. and here he was at your doorstep.

"shit, hoshi im sorry", you mumble out as you make way for him to enter. he looks at you confused. "why are you saying sorry baby", he asks and then he realizes you're still in your pyjamas and you look tired. "i got my period so i don't think out date can still happen", you tell softly. his gaze softens with understanding. "that's okay. i can still be here and spend time with you. i'll take care of you", he says with a newfound passion and before you know it, he's guiding you back to the bedroom and making you lie down.

periods are a little bit of uncharted territory for hoshi, but it's nothing a little research can't fix. so after quickly searching for what to do when someone is on their period he's coming to your room but you're curled up in a ball and he's running to your side.

"baby? are you okay?", he asks worried. "i'll make you a hot water bottle wait", he says and he rushes off to the kitchen. a few minutes later he's bringing you the hot water bottle and gently placing it on your stomach. you gladly take it and mumble out a small thank you to hoshi who's sitting on the edge of the bed. "have you eaten?', he says, looking at the time. you shake your head weakly. "not hungry", you tell and he's now even more worried. should he get you some chocolate? icecream? some snacks?. he decides to at least bring you a glass of water for you to sip on.

"you don't have to stay, i can manage", you tell him but he denies, telling you he's gonna take care of you. you try to lie down and rest, but the cramps only get worse. you open your eyes and don't see hoshi in the room. you weakly call out for him and he comes running, skidding across the floor in the process. "what's wrong?", he asks, concern flashing across his face but the tears brimming in your eyes are all the answers he needs. he wastes no time in coming by your side and gently engulfing you in his arms. you lean into his warmth and snuggle into his arms as you rest your head on his chest. he lightly rubs your back in hopes it will somewhat help ease the pain. but the way you were occasionally gripping his shirt told him you were still in pain and he hated in so much. he wished he could take your pain instead.

when you finally fall asleep, he gently tucks you in bed and decides to make a quick run to the convenience store to get you some snacks. you stir awake from your sleep and realize hoshi isn't next to you. you hear noises coming from outside and the smell of something in sweet in the air. you get up and waddle out of the room to the kitchen to find hoshi in front of the stove. "babe?", you call out and he turns around, smiling when he sees you. "you're awake?", he asks and he removes something from the pan and puts it on a plate.

"i made you some french toast, i know you like it so i tried following a recipe", he says in one breath, grinning as he presents the plate to you, guiding you to sit down and take a seat at the dining table. the other half of the table is covered in snacks of all kinds. you look at hoshi. "i thought you might want to snack or eat something sweet? i read up about period cravings but i didn't know what you'd like so i got some of your favorite stuff and things i thought you might like", he explains. you look at him and pout. you could cry right now. '"hoshi", you tell and he thinks maybe he's done something wrong. "what's wrong? did i not bring the right snack? did i forget something?", he asks, a lopsided pout forming on his face. you shake your head.

"you're so sweet, this is all so sweet", you finally tell and the tension disappears from his shoulders. he watches as you eat the french toast he made, happy.

if you told him you were feeling cold, he's drowning you in blankets. hungry? ready to order food or make you something again. thirsty? aksing you if you wanted water or an other drink, the phone in his hand ready to order whatever you wanted. want ice cream? he's ready to buy all the flavors.

but then later when it's afternoon he can tell your mood is a bit off and he's confused. (he's a little clueless about how the mood swings work sjjgg) so when he comes over to cuddle you when you are watching something you move away telling him you don't want to cuddle right now. he's shocked. how could you not want his cuddles? poor boy will be next to you and just be all pouty and glance over at you.

after a while, you feel find yourself scooting closer to hoshi and linking your arm around his as you lean your head on his arm. he's over the moon from this small action and pecks the top of your head, happy.

he'd sit on the counter as you watched him make ramen for you for dinner, even though you said you were feeling a little better now and could do it yourself. he'll order ice cream and watch as you eat, happy to indulge you in whatever you want.

he'll stay over that night, mostly he didn't want to leave you in pain and because you asked him to stay. if the cramps bothered you in the middle of the night, and you woke up in pain, he'd take care of you and do his best to help alleviate the pain. you're grateful he stayed as you slowly fall back asleep in his arms, his presence comforting and warm.

taglist: @idubiluv @icyminghao @kyeomyun @joshuaahong @daisycheols @fallingforshua29

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footiehoefics · 7 months

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Another one?

Hi! The dad Mase fic won (ofc) so here it is! I promised i would post a fic before I left for trip so I doubt I will be able to post another one on the weekend but I will leave you with this one! :) I hope you enjoy it! TW:non, Angst/Fluff, 3.7k words. My last fic is here! and my masterlist here!

gif: @doinggreat

“I feel like Miles has grown so much since I last saw him” you heard Lauren say to you while she had your baby boy on her lap.

“I know, it’s been so long since we’ve seen you guys.” you told her, sad that it had been way too long for liking not seeing Lauren, Declan and their son Jude. “Jude also looks like a big boy now I can’t believe it.” Lauren smiled at you, placing Miles back on your lap.

It had been a nice evening, you had made the drive down to London for 2 days to pick up some stuff from your old house. You wanted to stay a couple days to catch up with Lauren, Dec and some other friends as well. You felt like you hadn’t socialized with anyone ever since you moved to Manchester 3 months ago.

You had been busy taking care of Miles, making sure you had everything you would need in the new house, unpacking everything and buying a bunch of stuff. Of course Mason had helped you, but when he was at training it was all you. You didn’t complain though. This was the life you had always wanted. Being a mother and having the love of your life as your husband.

It wasn’t the best start for Mason and the team but he had you and he had Miles to comfort him.

Miles was 2 years old and he was the best thing that has ever happened to both of you. In all honesty, he was not planned. You remember vividly how you found out you were pregnant. You were scared about having a child, about the whole pregnancy and especially about what Mason would say. Both of you were not married at the time so having children together was not something you saw in the near future. However, when you finally told him, Mason assured you he fully wanted this with you and no one else.

He was so excited about being a dad. He would read books about fatherhood, he would talk to your bump every single night, before every game and after every game no matter if it was a bad game or a good game.

It melted your heart, seeing him put so much effort and taking this very seriously, not just winging it. Besides the excitement and all the research he did, he also took amazing care of you.

The pregnancy was hell, to put it lightly. The first couple of months felt almost the same as normal. The only thing you felt sometimes was fatigue and you felt like you got tired very easily.

When your bump started showing more and you were further along, that’s when things started getting rough. Puking every morning, sometimes at the crack of dawn. Mason would have to hop in the shower with you because of the dizzy you got. Your emotions were all over the place. Swollen feet. Backache. You felt like every side effect you had read about, you had it.

Mason hated seeing you unhappy some days because of your pregnancy. It was supposed to be one of the most beautiful experiences in your life and it was the complete opposite. Every day you could not wait to pop that baby out and he knew that.

When he had away games, that is when he felt helpless and felt awful for leaving you. You also hated it. You missed him but you also needed him. What if you got so dizzy you fainted in the shower? What if you can’t put your shoes on because the huge belly was on the way? What if you couldn’t roll over the bed to go throw up or pee at night?

There were a lot of things he helped you with and when he was away it scared you. Luckily his mom would visit him frequently and help a lot. You were lucky your friends also didn’t live far away, you could count on them if you need to.

“Is this handsome boy getting a sibling any time soon?” Lauren cooed at Miles and smirked at you.

“Jesus” you laughed at her comment.

Having another baby was definitely not on your list after your pregnancy. The thought of going through nine months of hell again, scared the shit out of you. Especially now with a 2 year old.

“Declan and I are already trying for the second one.” Lauren spoke up again, smiling.

“Trying for what?” you heard your husband say, approaching you, Lauren and the babies in the living room.

“Another baby of course.” Lauren said, looking at him.

“Oh wow, you just openly say you and Declan are having sex all the time?” Mason responded, making you roll your eyes and laugh.

“Oh my god, don’t be rude in front of the kids.” Lauren replied, laughing along with you.

“Anyways enough about my sexual life with Dec when are you two having another cutie like this?” Lauren said, pinching Miles' cheek.

“Wow why are we talking about our sex life?” Declan said right after Lauren.

Lauren’s question made you uncomfortable. You had not talked about this with Mason. You knew he wanted more than one kid, and he knew you wanted more than one kid too. However, after being pregnant with Miles that changed a little, and you never mentioned it to your husband.

“It’s not about sex, I’m asking when they are planning on giving Miles a little baby sister or brother.” Lauren replied, taking the tea Declan had just made her.

“We need to start soon, I don’t want them to have a big age gape.” Mason said, as if it was the obvious answer.

You were still silent, not wanting to say anything yet. This conversation had to be between you and Mason.

“Yea, that’s why Lauren and I started trying a couple months ago.” Declain told you, laying back on the couch so he could get comfortable with his son.

Mason placed his arm around your shoulder and pulled you closer to him. “We can start trying tonight…” he whispered in your ear so only you could hear his comment. You smiled a little, but not convincingly, and Mason caught that.

“Babe, you know what I heard is not good to eat when you're pregnant? Papaya, I read it today.” Lauren said to you. “We don’t have to eat it when we get pregnant again.” You didn’t like how everyone was just assuming you were going to get pregnant again. If someone were to ask you right now, you would immediately reject it.

“Well that’s if we have another baby…” you said whispering the last part. “You don’t want Miles to have a sibling?” Lauren asked.

“I mean, no…I um-” you got uncomfortable again. You didn't want this to turn into a discussion with Mason right and you could see from the corner of your eye he had a confused look on his face. “I just I’m not thinking about that right now you know?” you finally replied. Lauren noticed you got uncomfortable so she changed the subject.

Mason removed his arm from your shoulders and headed to the kitchen to grab a drink. He was confused, he thought you always wanted more than one kid. Why would you change your mind now? The thought of you not wanting more kids was eating his mind up for the rest of the night. He was not as talkative and cheerful as he was 30 minutes ago.

Once it got a bit late and Miles was on the verge of falling asleep, you decided to go back to the hotel you were staying. The drive wasn’t long but the entirety of it was silent.

It was awkward between you both and there was tension. You didn’t know how to start that conversation but you knew you had to. You were also staying at a hotel, it wasn’t like you could just avoid each other. Miles had his little bed in the suite and then it was your space, that was it. If the conversation ended up being an argument, you could not just leave to the guest room and sleep there or cool off downstairs in the kitchen.

You got back and noticed Miles was already asleep in his car seat. You carefully grabbed him out of the car and carried him to your room while Mason grabbed your purse and Miles’ bag.

Once you got to your suite, you carefully placed Miles on his bed, making sure there were enough pillows around him and gave him a little kiss on his forehead.

Still radio silence between you and your husband. You turned on the lamp beside your baby’s bed and headed towards the bathroom. You started by taking your clothes off, putting your pj’s on and then doing your skincare routine. Once you were applying your last product, you saw from the corner of your eye Mason entering the bathroom. You couldn’t read his face.

He came up to you, hugging you from behind. You melted at his touch. You both hated being at odds with one another and giving each other the silent treatment.

“Can we talk?” Mase whispered in your ear. You nodded your head and turned around to face him.

“I’m sorry it was awkward today, I just didn’t know what to say…” you replied looking at him.

“It’s not your fault babe…” he told you. “I’m just confused, I mean I thought having another baby was in the cards for us and that we were on the same page.”

“Mason” you sighed, closing your eyes, dreading to tell him how you really felt about it.

“Have you changed your mind?” he asked you, again confused.

“I mean, I don’t know, maybe? Being pregnant was really hard, it wasn’t like what i thought it would be and what people told me it would be like. I don’t know if I want to go through that again.” you said, with a sad expression on your face.

“Baby, pregnancy was never gonna be easy…and I will be there for you again, like I was with Miles.”

You understood his point, but it bothered you that he didn't get yours.

“I know Mase but, it’s also just not the right time. We just moved to Manchester and Miles is getting bigger by the second. It was kind of easy to cope the first time because he was our first child. But what about now? I can’t just decide to nap in the middle of the day if I get dizzy, I have Miles.” you explained to him.

“My mom can drive up for a couple of days each month-” he tried saying before you cut him off.

“Mason, stop. We can’t have your mom driving every couple of days just to help me.” you said getting irritated he was not getting your point.

He let go of your waist and stepped back a little, noticing your change in mood.

“I'm trying to offer solutions Y/n.” he replied more sternly. “We had always said we wanted a big family, we promised each other that-”

“Yea but people change their minds okay?!” you said, raising your voice a bit more.

Mason walked towards the bathroom door to shut it. He didn’t want your argument to wake up Miles.

“We both grew up with siblings and we both know how much we needed them and how much fun it was, we really won’t give that life to Miles?” he asked you, with more frustration in his voice.

He was right. Your siblings meant the world to you. You always dreamed of creating that little family and your kids having the same dynamic you had with your siblings.

“Do you think I’m so selfish that I don’t want to give that life to him? Of course I want to, but I don’t know if I can go through that again, do you understand? You weren’t passing out in the shower, you weren’t getting crazy mood swings, you weren’t throwing up everyday, you didn’t feel tired all day, you weren’t carrying a 7lbs baby in your tummy.” you replied more annoyed.

“Yea, but I was there in the shower with you, I was giving you back rubs and belly rubs, I was holding your hair up and getting you all the medicines you needed for your dizziness and nausea, I was making sure you were okay every single second of the day. Don’t you dare make this as if it was only you. I understand my body is not the one that changes, but I was part of it too. I was there helping you through everything and I want to do it again because you are my wife and the mother of my son and I love you more than anything.” he said, almost without taking a break to breathe.

You never liked when he snapped at you, it was rare. You felt awful for now for making him feel like he wasn’t a part of it. He was the best help you could’ve asked for. The best daddy and partner. He made you feel like the sexiest woman ever when you were pregnant even though you felt like you were a whale.

“I am trying here okay? We can go to the doctors and ask what to do so you don’t go through the same things next time, we can hire someone to help us around with Miles, Anouska and Luke are our neighbors they can help, there are so many ways we can go about this but you have this tunnel vision in your head that it will be the worst experience of your life. I want to make it easy for you, but you just won’t let me.”

Mason hated raising his voice at you but he wanted you to understand how he could help this time and other people could too.

It made you tear up a bit. You didn’t want to upset him. He opened the bathroom door to go back to the suite, leaving you with a lump on your throat and teary eyes.

You dried the tears on your face and went back to the suite. All the lights were off except Miles' little lamp he had to have beside his bed because he was scared of the dark.

Mason was already laying down on the bed not facing your side. You hated sleeping like this. Not being cuddled up to him. He was pissed and you respected it by giving him his space.

—-

Did you sleep well last night? Absolutely not. Miles woke up twice, and you felt nauseous the whole night. You didn’t know if it was that feeling of guilt or hurt from your argument with Mason or if it was actually nausea.

When you opened your eyes, you could see the sun peeking through the curtains. Mason was still not facing you.

You suddenly felt the urge to throw up. You got up from bed quickly and ran to the bathroom. Your footsteps woke up Mason, making him turn around and see you were not by his side anymore.

He was confused, but then he heard you in the bathrooms and knew you were sick.

He got up quickly and rushed to the bathroom to help you. He didn’t care about last night, you were his wife and he needed to help you and make sure you were okay.

“You okay baby?” your husband asked you, kneeling down and holding up your hair.

“I’m fine, I don't know why I got nauseous.” you replied.

You flushed the toilet and stood up to brush your teeth. Mason still had a concerned look on his face and didn't leave the bathroom until he knew you were 100% okay.

“I’m okay Mase, I promise.” you told him, turning around to look at him.

Even though you were not on good terms, he leaned in and kissed your cheek.

“I’ll shower so we can get going.” he said to you.

You opened up the curtains and woke your baby up to get him ready for the road trip ahead.

—-

The whole drive back to Manchester was not as awkward as yesterday, but there wasn’t much conversation between you and Mason.

You used it to think about everything. You felt like you were overthinking but, after connecting the dots, feeling nauseous, throwing up in the morning, your period was supposed to come in today, you started thinking you might be pregnant.

You and Mason weren’t exactly avoiding pregnancy. You weren’t on birth control and sometimes you didn’t use a condom. Of course there was a possibility of you being pregnant.

—-

“Can you pull over here please?” you asked your husband.

“You okay? Do you need to throw up?” he was concerned now.

“No, no I just need to pee and I’ll get something for Miles.”

Mason pulled over and you got out of the car, making sure you took your purse with you as well.

You did need to pee but you wanted to also buy a pregnancy test. The thought and curiosity you had was eating you alive you just wanted to know.

You bought what you needed, bought Miles a little snack and headed back to the car.

You were already only 20 minutes away from your home so soon enough you would find out.

—-

You got back to your house safe and sound. Miles was awake by the time you got there so it was perfect timing.

You got him out the car seat, brought him inside the house and placed him on his play set in the living room to keep him entertained while you and Mason unpacked everything else from his car.

It was still very weird between you two. It felt weird not talking to him and joking around.

Once everything was unpacked, he closed the door and followed you to the living room where your son was.

“Can we stop doing this?” Mason said out loud, making your head turn to him.

“Stop what…?” you asked back

“Not talking to each other? Ignoring each other?”

You paused for a minute, thinking of what to say to him. You felt his stare.

“I think I’m pregnant…” you mumbled.

“What?” Mason asked, he clearly did not hear you since you said it almost just to yourself.

“I think I’m pregnant.” you replied, this time looking up at him.

He knelt down to the ground so you were face to face. You were sitting on the couch with your hand on your lap.

“Are you serious? Or is this just a joke?” he was confused.

“I’m serious, I really think I am” you said with a concerned look on your face.

He was just looking at you, taking in what you said. What if after last night something changed for him as well?

You started tearing up a bit.

“That’s why I asked you to pull over, to buy this,” you told him, pulling out the pregnancy test out of your purse. “I didn’t know what you would think after last night.” tear spilling from your eyes.

“Come here baby.” he grabbed your hand and placed them over his shoulders so he could hug you.

You hugged him back tightly, tears still falling and gentle sobs coming out of your mouth.

“I’m sorry Mase,” you sniffed and pulled back from the hug to look at him and apologize. “I’m sorry for making you feel like you weren’t a part of it, and I’m sorry for upsetting you.” he was looking at you with a sad face. He didn’t want you to feel like shit because of an argument.

“I don’t want to disappoint you, I’m scared of having another baby. I promise you having our little family is the most important thing to me, I just felt overwhelmed, I don’t want it to go the way it did before.”

He grabbed your face with his hands, wiping the tears with his fingers.

“You will never disappoint me, my love.” he told you looking into your eyes.

“It’s okay to be scared babe, I’m scared too.” he said, chuckling a bit making you smile lightly.

“If you are pregnant, we go through it together yea? We are a team and I will be here for anything that you need okay?”

You nodded your head. He leaned in and kissed you.

“I’m sorry too about yesterday, I don’t like arguing with you.” he told you once he broke the kiss.

“I know.” you whispered and kissed him again.

“You should take the test…” Mason suggested. You nodded your head and headed to the powder room near the living room. Mason stayed with Miles, watching over him and waiting anxiously for the result.

You came out of the bathroom with the test covered. “Okay we have to wait 5 minutes.” you told him, sitting down again on the sofa.

Mason sat down next to you, pulling towards him so you were cuddled up.

It was 5 minutes of silence. The only thing you could hear was Mason’s heart beat and Miles playing with his toys.

Your timer went off and you immediately got off Mason.

You uncovered the test, “PREGNANT” it read.

You smiled with tears in your eyes and turned around to look at Mason. By the look on your face he knew it was positive.

He pulled you back and hugged you tighter than he ever had before.

“We are having another baby” he said to you.

“Yes we are.”

You were still hugging, both with tears on your faces.

Once you pulled apart, you saw miles just staring at you both making you laugh.

“Look mate,” he told him while holding up the pregnancy test “mommy’s pregnant.”

“Baby?” Miles mumbled

“Yes!” you chuckled. “Here in my belly” you told him, touching your belly. Miles wobbled towards you and touched your belly smiling. “Baby” he repeated, making your heart melt.

You looked over at Mason. He was crying. He had his whole life infront of him.

He leaned in and kissed you while Miles was hugging your belly. “I love you, more than anything” he said to you in between the kiss.

“I love you more.”

#mason mount #mason mount imagine #mason mount fan fiction #mason mount angst #mason mount fluff

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ivryne · 1 year

Text

late night, telephones ˖ ࣪

⋆ ᳝ ֺ alhaitham x gn!reader | modern high school!au

— in which Kaveh made it his life mission to find out who is his roommate’s secret lover. [ pt two here ]

“Yes, goodnight darling. I’ll see you tomorrow. Yeah, love you too.”

Accidentally overhearing Alhaitham’s late night phone call was one thing Kaveh didn’t plan on. But hearing those words spur from his literally cold-as-ice tongue made him question his existence. Alhaitham?? Being affectionate with someone???? Saying ‘I love you’ back??? Was Kaveh about the be called up to celestia and live his remaining life with the primodial one??

Okay it’s not even about the fact that he called them darling. OR THE FACT THAT HE SAID I LOVE YOU BACK. Even though those facts alone were something he desperately need to talk about later. But one thing Kaveh was mostly surprised at was the fact that someone wanted to be affectionate with him.

That made him wonder. Like the green haired moron does literally nothing but sit and read. Without his pretty face, perfect brawns, and outstandingly smart brain, he would be nothing. No but seriously, did you ever see Alhaitham taking a step forward to start a conversation? No, exactly! In fact he’s the one that takes the initiative to stop them.

So from now on, Kaveh decided to make it his life mission to find out who exactly is willing to suffer for the sake of being with Alhaitham.

Going to his lists of candidates he has…uhm. He can’t really think of anyone right now rather than the librarian that spends 24/7 in the library. I mean he guessed they do have one thing in common. But no let’s cross that out.

Oh yeah! Alhaitham was in the student council. He was there as secretary! Okay that opened up a few spots for some people Alhaitham could be dating.

Okay so far here is his list:

1. Vice president of the student council, Cyno

Notes: possibility 40%. Seen them talk before but they hate each other sm. Honestly giving enemies to lovers vibe but didn’t Cyno had a thing w Tighnari? Idk need to check again.

2. Student council head of social media department, Nilou

Notes: possibility 60%. Very very pretty, single too (I think??) Seen them talk but I think only abt student council matters (or is it??). Kinda too good for Alhaitham. She doesn’t seem to be the type that likes cold guys. Does that cross her out??

3. Student council head of sports department, Dehya

Notes: possibility -100%. Definitely not. Rumour spreading around that she’s dating Dunyazard. Ship them sm ngl if she turned out to he dating Alhaitham I’ll kill him for ruining my ship. But overall definitely not.

4. Student council president, [ Name ]

Notes: possibility 25%. Nah bro they too good for him. They’re literally the definition of social butterfly and he’s likes the opposite. So many ppl chasing after them fr so if they turned out to be taken by Alhaitham, I’ll personally go back to celestia myself.

So far that was the list! It was okay so far but he needed more evidence. The one with most percentage on his list was Nilou. He’ll have to ask around to find more candidates too. But he was sure that the list of candidates wouldn’t be more than 5.

Before you questioned Kaveh to why didn’t he just asked Alhaitham, it’s because he would just stare at him blatantly and said “It’s not your problem” ! Honestly, getting an answer from Alhaitham aside for calculus matters is extremely difficult.

He did his research and observations. Alhaitham goes to the library every day (literally). He spends his time there reading the same kind of shit he does at home, staying quietly at a remote corner, away from all the other students.

There was no way this man is taken. The problem is he doesn’t even try. Like at all. 0 efforts. If Kaveh was his lover, he would’ve dump his ass in public and let him suffer the embarrassment. The worst part about that is the fact that he probably won’t even care!

After what seemed like 30 minutes, Kaveh decided that all was hopeless and finally went his merry away. Ah, if only he stayed just a minute more. Then he wouldn’t have missed your approaching figure heading towards the man whose nose is stuck in a book.

“Hi.” A small smile graced your lips, your eyes melt into those turquoise hues, one that reeked of fondness and admiration.

No words of greetings has yet to leaves his tongue, but the way he scooted over to the right, indicating you too sit by him was more than enough.

“So, when are we going to tell him?” Alhaitham averted his gaze from his book unto you. His eyes slightly squinted, showcasing evidence of him clearly thinking.

“Is it really equivalent for him to know?” Your boyfriend asked, earning a soft chuckle from you.

“Statically speaking, not really. But the way he’s searching for candidates is so hilarious and amusing to watch, don’t you think, darling?” Alhatham lifted his book up to eye level, covering the dust of pink that shimmered around his features.

He pondered awhile before replying “Ah you’re not wrong. It is quite the fun to see him run around chasing for some bit of evidence. A mastermind are you, my love?” Now it was your turn to flush shades of red. You can see the smile of adoration on his eyes cascading through the shades of his irises.

Times like these are where you love him most. Where the two of you sit in the presence of one another, quietly scheming and watching that friend of yours running around like a detective on a case. Seeing him desperately looking for the answer when it is right in front of him, sitting cross legged and maneuvering the most amusing smile.

do not repost, share, or copy ! Reblogs and likes very much appreciated!! Thankyou for taking ur time to read this hope you enjoyed it! Follow me for more xx

©️ shrslair.

#genshin x reader #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham #genshin impact #genshin imagines #genshin x you #al haitham x reader #genshin x y/n #genshin headcanons #genshin kaveh #al haitam x reader

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thewonandonly · 5 months

Text

RETURN TO ME

PLAYLIST : spotify

PAIRING : thief!kang yeosang x news reporter!fem!reader

GENRE : thriller? fluff, smut, angst

WC : 14,374 words :3

WARNINGS : strong language, agro-hwa, aggression, graphic description of hostage situations/kidnapping, mention of bank heists/artifact theft, mention of firearms, absolute chaos from ateez as a heist group, oral sex (f receiving), vaginal penitration, vouyerism/exhabitionism, praise, pet names, cunnilingus, no happy ending, its giving mama im in love with a criminal tbh

AUTHOR'S NOTE : it's finally done! i've been writing this fic for OVER a year, ever since guerilla came out 😰 i hope you all enjoy and jsyk, this fic is heavily, heavily, inspired by "love letter from thief x".

Becoming a news reporter wasn't your first option. You originally wanted to write news articles for your local paper, something close to home, but it turned out that your local paper hired another much more qualified person. So, you used your degree in journalism for field reporting.

Your first story was about a cold case being reopened, and you would've loved to do your own research on the topic, however, the teleprompter read everything for you, telling you what to say, what to do and how to do what they tell you to do. You seriously did not have any freedom. You were about ready to go on sabbatical and open a gossip blog like Perez Hilton. Then, maybe you'll finally be able to get the freedom you'd like to report how you'd like. Or, maybe you'd even put the degree you got for investigative journalism, something you think would be extremely enjoyable to you and your wallet.

But, you didn't start hating your job at the beginning. No, because it was helpful to have a teleprompter in front of you, telling you what to say while the ring light blinded you. No, it wasn't because of that. It was because you were currently trapped in a hostage situation, the news broadcast now hijacked by the criminals in this entire scheme.

It was a classic museum robbery, and you wouldn't say you were excited to cover it, but it was different from what stories you would normally cover. It had the potential danger in it all.

But the second your cameraman and producer cut the cameras to take a break, you were left alone to your own devices until you were going to be called in again by your co-workers in the studio.

You pulled out your phone, scrolling through social media timelines, reading the other news sources that popped up about the situation.

The microphone you held, that did little to nothing when you spoke into it on camera, was suddenly dropped as you were pulled from where you were standing, a hand over your mouth and another arm around your waist, lugging you away like a piece of cargo.

How was no one noticing this, you questioned. The cameras were rolling for different news broadcasts, and yet no one gave any mind to the sound of your heels scraping against the gravel road, leaving white marks from the top piece on the bottom of your heel.

You practically screamed from behind the hand against your mouth, but the sound of all the chaos from newscasters, sirens that echoed against the buildings silenced your screams.

All the self-defense you've learned for this moment, that you pleaded never happened, seemed to disappear from your head. And you were nearly incapacitated, anyhow. The last you saw of the outside was where your team sat, and the microphone discarded on the ground, your phone right next to it with a shattered screen.

The captor pulled you around the back of the building, another holding the door open for them.

They all wore masks, some you've seen at Halloween stores. Some of them you haven't seen available anywhere. You could only assume that this has been planned years before it happened.

Shutting the door at the back of the building, the man released you before another took over and tied your arms behind your back, and sat you down to bind your legs.

"I'm sorry." The person tying you whispered, "For what it's worth."

"It isn't worth jack shit." You grumbled, moving around in the restraints, trying to get him to mess up even a little bit.

The other cleared his throat, "Come in, Base, it's me." He mumbled through the mask.

You immediately assumed that this was a much more complex plan, looking as he communicated to "Base".

"You read me?" He paused, "Newscaster is secured. Video's free to run."

"Y/N, uh... Come in." Your coworker spoke through the in-ear you had, and you nearly shook. There was no way you could respond unless you were left by yourself. "Y/N, come in." Their voice got a bit more stern, a bit more deeper.

There was a loud ringing playing over the in-ear and you jumped.

A voice full of static echoed, sounding distant but close at the same exact time, "This is an official notice. We, the group known by Kyomi, require the government release the Dream Texts to us, immediately." The video that played was a deep, almost god-like voice, similar to the voice configuration that Anonymous had used many, many times in the past, "The National Treasure Museum does not have rights to own the Dream Texts, nor does the government. They are to return them to their rightful owners. You have 24 hours."

Ringing played in your ear and you began to rub the in-ear across your shoulder trying to get it out from your ear, before it fell against the floor, the ringing echoing across the walls.

"Son of a..." The one tying you up glanced at the in-ear, looking at you before kicking it away, "What do you think you're doing?"

You struggled in the restrains, the rope digging into your skin.

"Wasp, we got a breach." He called to the other across from him, swinging the bolt rifle back to his hands, "She had an in-ear. They heard us."

The other turned to you, glaring at you through the mask, which made it 20 times more horrific, "Well, what are you waiting for? Break it." The one called Wasp spoke, squatting beside you, "Killer," He called over his own in-ear, "Shut it down."

You glared back at him, not at all deferred from your fear coursing through your veins.

There were so many other people that you weren't aware were in the next room, dealing with 4 others. Museum staff and guests visiting the 24/7 museum alike, all being threatened in front of the barrel of a gun.

And as soon as "Wasp" called to shut it down, it was all over in a second.

"Meet at the van. 10 minutes tops. Grab your shit, we're leaving."

Your brain immediately connected the dots that maybe this "Wasp" was the leader of the others, and you didn't think even a little bit that you would be going along with them until the one who tied you up in the rope swooped you over his shoulder, your legs kicking at his back.

"What about the newscaster, Wasp?"

"Bring her along, Hornet. Base is gonna need all the info we can get." He nodded to the entryway, and opened the door to the reception desk. "Sharp, let's go. We're out of time."

"Sharp" immediately stood up from his crouching position with his gun still aimed at any who threatened through the glass windows, "You go ahead. Killer and Spiral are in the next room with the hostages."

"Copy." Hornet responded, carrying you through the door, "Killer, Spiral, get anything gathered about the Dream Texts and head out."

The two across the room gathered backpacks and threw them over their shoulders, their rifles resting in their hands.

The other hostages huddled together, shaking in fear. And in contrast, you rested on Hornet's shoulder, watching them from the corner of your eye.

Wasp and Sharp entered through the door, a whistle escaping Wasp's lips, "Let's load up, Web is waiting for us." He lead the group to the van, "Hornet, drop the newscaster inside. You know the drill. Sharp, check for trackers. Spiral, swap out the plates."

Hornet nodded his head to the door as Killer opened it, plopping you inside, "Alright, miss, no need to worry."

You trembled like a leaf. You never, ever thought this would happen to you. You, who took kickboxing as an extracurricular in high school and actually passed the class as top student. You, who checked every glass window you passed by in your hometown. You, who was so kind but also knew how to set your boundaries. This couldn't be happening to you. There was no way. The one second you were distracted by your cellphone and it wasn't while you were working; much rather it was while you were on break.

The rope binding your arms behind your back was suddenly met with another rope through that one, and you had to convince yourself that this wasn't some messed up shibari sex cult. Inappropriate thoughts aside, Hornet tied a blindfold around your eyes, covering any light that might've flooded in from the dingy alleyway that the Kyomi group stood in, watching as Hornet finished restraining you and depriving you of your senses.

There was a faint beeping that echoed in and out your ear. "Can's clear, Wasp." Sharp called.

"Good. Let's head out." He climbed into the van, hitting the door to the others, "Up and at 'em, boys."

"Jesus Christ, this mask is fucking annoying." A voice called and you heard the horrendous sound of latex rubbing against one another.

Another shouted, "Dude, you're all good to take the mask off!"

"I already did, asshole!"

You wiggled around, trying to grab even the slightest bit of attention, but they all seemed too busy talking to one another to notice you using your shoulder to move the bandana up just a little to see out of the bottom.

A voice sighed, "Come on, you two. Relax. We're not out of the woods just yet."

The other voice laughed, almost high pitched, "He's just so fucking ugly. I can't help it."

There was the brief sound of pushing and shoving, before a deep and stern, "Hey!" echoed through the car, "If Web gets into a crash and we get caught because of you two, it's over."

A tongue clicked, "Yeah, listen to Wasp. He can't afford to go back to jail, guys."

"You're one to talk, Yunho!"

"All of you just shut the fuck up." The voice boomed, and you almost flinched back into the car, feeling like you yourself was the one getting scolded, even though you were the most quiet out of the others, aside from Web.

You took this moment to actually lean your head back, and angle your eyes downward, catching the briefest glance among the group.

Three sat across from you, their masks still covering their face as they leaned against the empty van, guns resting at their side. The other two sat with their backs against the driver and passenger seats, next to the other group. Aside from the one directly in front of you, you were by yourself.

One of them cleared their throat, breaking the silence, "So, what's with the newscaster? Why'd we take her?"

"Information." That was the voice. The voice you could recognize as Wasp.

The other sighed, "Where are we gonna keep her?"

"Base can take care of her." It was short, simple, but definitely not sweet. He was the leader, he was the one that told the other's where to go.

The brief sounds of sirens were what pulled your attention from leaning your head back. And the sound only made you more agitated. I'm in here, you wanted to call. And how you pleaded you have superhuman strength to break out from your ties, break the door and crawl into the street.

The car ride was long. Extremely long and painful. You could feel your bottom going numb, and the rope digging into your arms. You were sure that you had a rope burn from it. The blindfold getting all the more irritating. But, they didn't seem to notice that the bandana was even lifted a little bit, or how you would glance at them from underneath it. They were comfortable with each other, all joking around, almost as if they didn't hold an entire museum heist just a few hours ago. Their masks were off, the weapons and items they were able to grab from the museum in the middle of the van.

Wasp slumped forward, his arms folded across his stomach as he slept.

And when the van stopped, you nearly shook. The rain pattered on the concrete.

"We're here." Web, the one driving called, putting the car in park.

The others sighed, standing up and stretching, climbing out the van, "Shit," one of them yawned.

"Come on, Wasp. Let's get you inside." One of them shook him by his shoulders.

Wasp looked up and took a single glance outside and was already on his feet, "Alright, grab the things. Web has to get this back to the rental company. Base already changed the plates and VIN for it."

"Copy that." They all began to pick up an item; at least one gun as well, and opened the back door to the van.

Wasp began to untie the rope through the one rubbing into your arms and lifted you over his shoulder. He kept a strong arm over your waist and walked around to the driver side. "Web, pass me the dash cam card."

Web immediately reached toward the device and pulled out the card, "Got the replacement one?"

Wasp rummaged in his pocket, "Here. Base got still footage while we were setting up." Passing the card to Web, he nodded to him, "Get back safe."

"I always do." He shrugged before driving off.

Wasp sighed, looking up at the sky as the rain fell into his face, "God, I hate rain."

You wanted to make a stupid pun about wasps and their aggression, but your throat was so dry, you believed even speaking a little bit would cause your trachea to crack.

The mud gushed around his feet as he walked and opened the door to what you assumed was their base.

"Welcome back, Seonghwa." A soft voice mumbled, "Who's this you have with you?"

"Newscaster." He dropped you down onto a couch and pulled the blindfold from your eyes.

It took a moment before your eyes could adjust to the dim lighting, and you felt 8 different pairs of eyes on you. The ones you saw in the museum had their masks either in their hand or on top of their heads. It was hard to believe that these people were so ready to show their faces to you.

And the two you haven't had the pleasure — you use that loosely — to meet yet, sat across from you, large computer monitors on top of two separate desks that looked just a little too large for the room, watching your every move.

Your breath began to quicken, your lungs beginning to constrict on every other breath. It didn't begin to hit you that you were obviously very much kidnapped, until you began to look around for any hint that maybe this was all big nightmare.

Wasp, or now known as Seonghwa, bent at the waist and looked into your eyes, "Tell us what you know."

You've seen movies like this; the main character ends up kidnapped for knowing too much and when asked for the information they know, they always respond with the stupid words of "where am i?"

But honestly, you didn't really care where you were, you just wanted to get home. You wanted to lay in your bed and cuddle up in your covers.

"Just about as much as everyone." You mumbled, shrinking under Seonghwa's stone cold glare, "I know that you want the Dream Texts, and I know that your groups name is Kyomi, and that there's 8 of you, only 6 of you going out on missions." You looked up at the man in front of you, shifting uncomfortably, "And I know that you don't kill."

The blonde male in the chair nodded, "She's good." He chuckled, pointing at you, "You actually know a lot more than others."

"I spend a lot of time reading about you guys." You mumbled.

Seonghwa clicked his tongue, "All that information is on the internet?" He turned to the others, "Yeosang, do something about this."

The blonde male in the chair spun around and began to type quickly on the keyboard.

You could only watch and listen, feeling uncomfortable as another member sat beside you and placed his arm around the top of the couch.

"Yeosang's our eyes." The other member whispered, "And the other one is Mingi, he does all background work for us."

Mingi waved sweetly, in contrast with the dim lighting of the room.

"Okay..." Yeosang mumbled, "Well, there are other news sources giving background to the group but it doesn't look like they know anything about us, personally." He rubbed his bottom lip, "There's not much to do aside from let the tabloids run their crazy little course and let them speculate."

Seonghwa clicked his tongue, "Son of a bitch," He pushed his hair back and sighed, "Yeosang, keep an eye on those articles and make sure that anything slightly close to our personal lives gets taken down."

"Aye, aye, sir." Yeosang nodded.

You briefly made eye contact with Yeosang, before looking down at your lap, "Do you think I'll be able to go home soon?"

Seonghwa looked at you like you were crazy, "You think you'll be able to go home now? You've seen our faces, you know how we sound."

The realization hit you all too late. There was no way you were going to be able to go home after everything you've been through. Like Seonghwa said, you've seen their faces. You've heard their voices. They had no collateral to the fact that you wouldn't say a word. And they definitely weren't going to risk some feisty newscaster giving away what they were doing anytime soon.

"You're right." You chuckled softly, "God, I'm such an idiot." You weren't generally speaking about your current situation, more rather this whole evening. You were distracted, you were caught unawares. And now, you were trapped in a situation that you didn't ask to be in.

"Wooyoung, San, get her something more comfortable than those ropes." Yeosang called, and the member that sat next to you and the other across the room stood up and wandered off to the back of the shack... house, whatever it was.

Seonghwa looked around, "What are we gonna do with her?"

Yeosang shrugged, his demeanor almost changing in that instant, "I'm not the one who brought her here."

You furrowed your brows, "You guys don't even know what to do with me and still brought me here?"

A brown haired member with a gentle smile and soft eyes chuckled, "Seonghwa didn't think it all the way through."

"Shut up, Yunho!" The latter scolded, "So, who's gonna give up their bed?"

"Definitely not me." A shorter male shook his head, "My back's still messed up from that heist in the city."

"That's always your excuse, Hongjoong." Yunho rolled his eyes, "I can't give up my bed because I made the perfect ass dent to fit me."

"That leaves Wooyoung, San, Jongho, Mingi,"

"Just let her sleep down here." Yeosang shrugged, "I'll be down here most of the time anyhow."

"Dude, you get zero sleep." Mingi chuckled, shutting off his computer, "Speaking of, I'm gonna head up now. Great job today, guys. G'night."

San and Wooyoung immediately came strolling down the stairs, a pair of silver cuffs in their hands, "Found something!"

"Give them here." Seonghwa called, holding his hand out, using his fingers to motion them towards him. And one of them placed the cuffs in his hand, "Keep her down."

The two hold your shoulders against the couch cushions as Seonghwa used a pocket knife he pulled from his pocket to cut through the rope, forcing your arms to the side and locked the cuff around your left wrist, and the other cuff around the arm of the couch.

Sure, it felt better that you were out of that rope, but with the pinching cuff around your wrist, it made it almost worse.

You sighed, rolling your wrist around, as you finally had circulation returned to your wrist.

Seonghwa sighed, "There." He grabbed the two spare keys and tossed them to the other at the end of the desk, "Keep an eye on her."

You could feel your hand go numb as the blood began to rush back to your fingers, "This is not ideal, but it's better than how it was." You mumbled to yourself, using your thumb to crack your stiff fingers.

Yeosang sighed, spinning around in the chair to continue using his computer, "So..." He whispered. "I know they said you're a news caster, but what station do you work for?" He asked softly, clicking on different links on his screen.

You cleared your throat, "I, uh, I work for STVU. I do field... field reporting." You swallowed roughly, feeling your throating drying up more as you spoke, “They decided it was easier-“

Yeosang chuckled, “All I needed to know was the station.” He pulled up the news website, playing back the live feed. “These your coworkers?” Yeosang motioned to the screen.

Nodding your head, you looked as they stood in silence and you could already imagine the teleprompter moving before their eyes, the producer nodding them to continue. You could imagine the shock from them calling on you, and finding your producer picking up your now shattered cell phone on the ground as the hostages continue to file out of the museum.

Yeosang tapped a pen on the desk, “Looks like the missed out on the money shot ‘cause you weren’t there.” He chuckled, exiting the full screen, “They really depend on people of your career.”

You coughed lightly, “So, what’s the point of keeping me here? If they depend on me so much, what’s the point?” Yeosang turned around in his seat, using his legs to roll over to you on the couch, “Because it gives us an upperhand.” He smiled, almost sinisterly, grabbing your free hand, “It gives us a huge hand. Return the Dream Texts to the most loyal group, Kyomi, or we kill off the newscaster.” He chuckled, looking up at you sitting on the couch, fear brushing your brows and forehead in the form of sweat, “But, you already know we don’t kill people.” He laughed, pushing across the floor back to his desk, “Or, do we?” He began to type on his computer, “I mean, if we did, it’s not like anyone would find out. We have this disposable land, buried under these old junker cars. If we did kill anyone, we’d bury them under those junkers and call it a day. And, the dead can’t speak.”

The way he spoke about it made you wonder, have they really never killed anyone? Have they really, honestly, never did what he spoke about?

Laying down on the couch to calm your anxiety never really helped; In your everyday life and in this situation now. Normally, you’d come home from work and eat, drink, and then lay down on the couch until you passed out from exhaustion, but here — here was so much different. You didn’t feel overworked, you didn’t feel tired even in the slightest, you weren’t hungry, you weren’t thirsty. You were just horrified. And uncomfortable. Your hand would normally meet your hair halfway through the night but with your hand chained up to couch arm, you couldn’t get comfortable. And the only way to get comfortable was to have your bone pressing against the bottom of the arm of the couch.

You just decided that staying awake for the rest of the night would be fine. After all, you did have a later broadcast time rather than waking up at the crack of dawn. So, staying up wasn’t immediately out of the question; in fact, it would’ve been the perfect option.

It was damn near the crack of dawn, and Mingi was right, Yeosang didn’t get any type of sleep. Not even a second of resting his eyes. He just sat in front of his computer screen, typing on his keyboard with a click from his mouse here and there. You wondered how he could do that, especially when you, personally, couldn’t sit at a desk for longer than 10 minutes before getting up and finding anything else in the world to do. You honestly didn’t know if he even got up and used the restroom, if he got something to snack on or to drink. He seemed completely entranced by his computer screen.

You assumed if you loved what you did that doing that type of work wasn’t as grueling.

With creaky steps, down came a lethargic and gloomy looking member of Kyomi, his blonde hair sticking up in every direction. He rubbed his chest from under his shirt, his sweats hanging around his waist, “Sang,” He called to the one sitting at the desk.

Yeosang only responded with an uninterested sound, typing something else into his computer, and a click from his mouse echoing around the two.

“Did you even get her anything to eat?” The other man asked, turning his eyes from you to the other in the chair.

“Jesus Christ, San, she’s not a fucking dog.” Yeosang scrolling down the page, “If she needed something to eat, she’d let me know. We’re like best friends, now, right, Newscaster?”

San looked back to you, rolling his eyes, “Are you hungry?” The fear overpowered San’s kindness, and you felt scared to even speak your mind. You were starving. You didn’t anything since before you went live on screen, and you had your entire menu for the week planned out. But, if he was offering to get you something to eat, you wouldn’t turn down the offer even if it killed you. So, ignoring every thought bubbling in your head like soda pop, you nodded.

San looked back to the one slumped over in his chair, scribbling down something on a notepad, “See? She was hungry.”

“Not my problem.” Yeosang shrugged, “Even if she was, it’s not like I had the key to unlock her.”

“Oh, shit.” San wandered back up the stairs, poking his head down momentarily, “Hold on, Newscaster, I’ll be right back!”

You sighed to yourself, sitting up in the couch, skillfully moving your arm around the arm of the chair to have it rest there comfortably. Sitting on the couch, confined to one spot brought back memories of your high school years, awkwardly sitting on your friends couch as they went to retrieve something from their bedroom, leaving you there to do nothing but play on the cheap cellphone your mother purchased for you. It felt exactly like that moment, with your “friend” across from you as they were comfortable in their room while you felt like you stuck out like a sore thumb.

San quickly hurried down the stairs, a key around his finger as he walked over to you, to unlock the cuff around your wrist.

This could’ve been your moment to pack up and run. This could’ve been your out. And you would’ve done it, if not for San locking the other open cuff around his wrist, smiling as he looked at you, “Now, you can get those legs moving.”

He locked the cuff around your wrist just as quickly as he unlocked it, making it known that he’s used them for something of this exact situation before. San helped you up off the couch and steadied your wobbly legs as you stood.

“Sang, I’m going to make breakfast, if you want any.”

Yeosang yawned as you walked past, the computer screen lighting up his features and the blonde hair covered up by a black beanie, “It’s fine. It’s about time I head to sleep anyhow.”

San scoffed, “I get that you’re our eyes through out the night, but you seriously need to fix that schedule of yours. You spend the whole night keeping tabs on tabloids and news broadcasts, but they never post during the middle of the night.” He scolded, with you standing there like a clueless bystander, which you were, but you had a bit of a better idea on what exactly Yeosang was keeping an eye out for.

“Heard it all before. You say that until STVU posts all of this Newscaster’s notes on us and suddenly we’re compromised.” Yeosang stood up, stretching his arms above his head, “With that being said, I’m heading up now.” He shut off his computer and wandered over to the stairs leading up to the mysterious upper floor, “G’night, San. See you later, Newscaster.”

You lifted your free hand in a silent attempt to bid him a goodnight, or good morning in this case, and looked at San.

“He’s a trip.” San sighed, leading your cuffed hand behind his into the rickety old kitchen, “What are you hungry for?” “Um,” You shrugged, “Anything, really. I could eat anything.”

San lead you over to the foldable kitchen table that was enough to fit two, and unlocked your cuff, almost forcing your hand against the brace of the table as he locked you in, “Sorry, safety measures. You understand, right?” He smiled at you as he kneeled down to unlock his cuff, shaking his hand, “I’ve only had mine on for a couple minutes. How did you wear that for so long?”

You shrugged, looking around the kitchen for any type of impossible escape. It was in this moment you realized just how tired, panicked, and anxious you were. The late night shift was hitting you a bit too hard now, the drowsiness infecting your eyes like a sickness. You were worried for the next person to walk down the stairs, what they'd say or do. And you were anxious for your day's beginning behind these walls. Should you be worried about what they'd do to you, or should you just stick out the days and hope with enough time, you'd be let back into the world and live your days like they were your last?

Everything in the kitchen of this shack they inhabited was rundown. There was a vent with no cover, the floorboards squeaked with every step San took across the room, and if you moved your own feet enough, you could feel the splinters covering the floor. The appliances and cupboards looked like ones they found in the junkyard just outside their front door, although you had to admit, the repair on the appliances were like no other, giving a clean finish with a bit of damage here and there. Whereas, you could not say the same for the cupboards which looked like they were living on their last leg of life; cracked wood, rusted hinges, and some even missing half, or a whole door.

San pulled open the fridge and pulled out a carton of milk, then opened the cupboard and pulled out a sack of flour, and a pan, “Do you like pancakes?” He asked, sickly sweet that made your tummy hurt.

You turned your eyes to him, nodding.

San smiled, grabbing the pancake mix from the cupboard as well, making his way to the stove to turn it on, “So,” He started, “I know you’re a newscaster, but other than that, I know nothing about you.” He looked back to you, “Tell me about yourself.”

You shrugged, “Um, well, My name’s Y/N, I’m in my 20’s.” You shrugged again, realizing now that sharing your life story to an unknown stranger who also happened to kidnap you and used you as an advantage hostage for the government to give them what they want. “What is it exactly you guys want?” You asked hesitantly, scared to have touched a nerve.

“The Dream Texts.”

‘Which are?” You made a face, and turned your palms upwards, shrugging.

“Which are-“

“Which are none of your business.” Another voice echoed, and you turned around to find a groggy Seonghwa, glaring at you from across the table, “That information is classified for Kyomi, only.” He leaned against the table, “If your view on us changes, maybe you’ll find out.”

“Hwa,” San started, flipping a pancake onto the pan, “Come on.”

“What?” Hwa immediately began to push away from the table, and sized up the other male across from him, although they were practically the same height.

San gripped the pan’s handle, “Think about it. If she’s gonna be here for as long as we’re hoping, she should get to know us. Us, personally, and us as an organization.”

Seonghwa stepped closer, glaring at him, “And why would you do that? You’re willing to lay everything on the line for a snake to share it with everyone she’s knows, if she ever does get out.” Seonghwa had San practically up against the wall of their kitchen in the shack, and San’s knuckles went white as his grip tightened on the handle.

“You really don’t want to me to hurt you.”

“Like you’d ever hurt me.” Seonghwa chuckled, his tongue poking his cheek, “If you even move so much as an inch-“

The chair to the table across from you was pulled out, and you pulled your eyes from the fight, to find Yeosang sitting there, yawning, “They’re fighting again.” He sighed, leaning on his hand.

“Do…” You paused, “Do they always fight like this?”

Yeosang moved his hand side to side, “Sometimes. It’s always something stupid.” He complained.

You looked at Yeosang just for a moment, the side of his face all too familiar for only being in this place for a few hours, his birthmark decorating the side of his face. His hair was mussed in all different directions, and there were purple bags under his eyes, possibly from his insane sleep schedule.

You looked back to the two across the room, Seonghwa holding San by his shirt against the wall as the latter tried his best to swing the hot pan across Seonghwa's head, the perfectly cooked pancake laying on the floor, now broken into pieces.

"Oh, my pancake." You whispered under your breath, sighing, placing your hand against your belly as it grumbled.

Yeosang sighed, standing up from the table, "Alright, you two." He wandered between the two, opening the fridge, "What happened?" He pulled out a wrapped bowl of what looked like macaroni and cheese, using a spoon discarded in the strainer and then ate the food cold, not bothering to step out of the duo's way.

The two immediately began to go on a ramble, San pointing the end of the frying pan at Seonghwa's face, and Seonghwa keeping San pinned against the wall. Yeosang looked between the two, absorbing all the information as if he was in a comedy show, shoveling another spoonful of macaroni and cheese into his mouth.

And as the two men threatening to bite each other's heads off settled down, Yeosang turned to set the bowl beside him, "Now, doesn't this all seem silly?" He asked sarcastically, a smile crossing his lips.

San and Seonghwa continued to glare at each other, releasing each other from their grasp, just as the other members joined to watch the drama unfold in the doorway of the kitchen. Hongjoong sat at the chair across from you, and the others peeking in.

Yeosang patted both their backs, "Okay, good. Let's continue planning our next move." He nodded, picking up the bowl and wandered out to the living room, the sound of a gentle clatter from his spoon hitting the bowl as he set it down to get into his chair comfortably. "Mingi, pull up the National Bank."

Mingi yawned, "It's too early for this." He rubbed his eyes, but nevertheless, sat down at his computer and typed in the National Bank of South Korea, "There."

From being attached to the collapsable table, and with the room being empty, you listened as closely as you could to what exactly they were planning. You heard a voice here and there asking questions before Yeosang took over, "The National Bank has a piece of the Dream Texts, and I know where it's hiding." He chuckled darkly.

You already saw the perfect opportunity to get your ass away from here; in front of you, sat a shoddy door, with a lace curtain that must've been pinned up in an attempt to make it look not so bad. It was only a mile from you, at least it felt like it, when it was only a couple steps ahead. And you would've taken it, if it wasn't for the giant, grey collapsable table you were currently handcuffed to. You would've ran out the door, screaming your head off about the horrendous situation you found yourself trapped in to anyone who would listen. You had an idea to even carry the table on your back almost like you were Sisyphean rolling the boulder up the hill, for all eternity.

San's voice cut through the air, "Y/N?" He called, peeking into the kitchen, his voice recognizable enough to cut your thousand-yard-stare in half, "You okay?" He asked gently, looking at your eye's connecting to the door.

You turned to look at him, your eyes delayed like your mouse as work with the horrendous input delay, "I'm okay." You nodded to him, even willing him to accept it with a gentle smile.

"Well, alright." San nodded back, "If you need anything, we'll be in here." He smiled, dragging his feet across the floor and sitting on the couch as Yeosang continued.

In a perfect world, they would've recruited you into their ranks, having you join in on the meeting about what came next, allowing you to go to and from as you please, make your own food. And overall, have you free of the pinching cuffs and let you exist as yourself.

"Seonghwa, Wooyoung, and Yunho, you two will enter from the top window, using the special forces gear we got from Jongho's truck run." Yeosang held the pen cap in his lips, as he pulled out the printed blueprint from his printer next to his desk, "That way we can get an upper hand for the Dream Texts. You three will check the top floor while the rest of you, hold the bottom floor."

"It'll just be me and Joong." San pointed his finger at them both, "We can't possibly hold an entire floor by ourselves. I mean, it took Wooyoung, Yunho, Joong and I to just barely keep the floor of the museum clear."

Yeosang smiled a bit more sinisterly, "You're all forgetting one valuable hand in all of this." He cackles.

"I hate when he does this."

How, was all you could ask yourself. How is it possible to be in this situation again? The cramped van, the uncomfortable ropes and the barrel of the pistol pressed against your temple. And it happened to be the only nice member holding it there. You were blindfolded, and you wouldn't be surprised if you were dead already. This all had to be some type of nightmare.

Despite being the very valuable part of this plan to get into the bank, you were the one that was once again at the end of the barrel. When you learned that you'd once again be placed in that terrifying position of playing a hostage, Yeosang spoke with almost a chuckle, almost like he liked seeing someone under duress. As well as the others.

All this for some stupid writing? All this for Dream Texts. It was hard to believe you'd be forced to stay with them.

Jongho, who you learned was Web, after connecting the dots, was driving around the city in a car that was a little too small for the group. You were aware of all the codenames at this point. Wasp was Seonghwa, Hornet was San, Killer was Hongjoong, Sharp, Wooyoung. Spiral, Yunho. And Base was Yeosang and Mingi.

You knew their plan, and their means of getting to the oh-so desired Dream Texts, which you still had no idea what it was about or why it was so important to them. The only thing you could think of was National Treasure, the Nicholas Cage movie, which was, in it's entirety, about a treasure map on the back of an official government document. Maybe that's why they want it so bad, you thought, for money and fame.

Jongho stopped, dropping off the five in front of the National Bank, one you attended since you began your adult life. It had a bittersweet nostalgia, the building. It was where your family was charged foreclosure. It was where you cashed your first check after a successful month of your career. It was where you paid the down payment for your family's new house, after living with family for years.

Some would say you had a humble upbringing; learning the importance of money and paying dues where it's needed. You would say you had a difficult life. Getting a job as soon as you could, paying for your own high school expenses, and funding your own college education and tuition. You were constantly stressed out, and even now, with a steady job, you were considered a workaholic, but who could blame you? Cause and effect is what you normally pushed it off with.

Seonghwa, Yunho and Wooyoung split off from San, who gripped your arm tightly, and Hongjoong. They all had their weapons around their shoulders and masks that covered their faces, that you weren't even aware they had put on. The masks were different from what you had first seen, this time, they all donned balaclavas, unlike the clown masks you've seen them in previously.

You were still blindfolded, a sound of a shattering glass echoing through the sky, San tugging you along into the building.

You were aware that you, in this situation, were a hostage again. You weren't sure if this is where you died, or if they'd take you with them again. So, you tried to settle the pit that lingered in your stomach as San shoved you onto the floor, a ray of bullets echoing through the air and a loud yell of "get down!" interrupting the fire.

You felt that anxiety and impending doom creep into your chest again, your brain shifting gears back into fight or flight. After all, you were nothing but an accessory for them to use. Your life, to them, had no meaning. They could preach that they don't kill all they would like, but they would actually have to take responsibility for their actions of causing psychological damage to others.

Hongjoong cleared his throat, raising his voice, "We are Kyomi! We require the Dream Texts. Who here is the bank manager?"

A woman shakily raised her hand, and looked around anxiously.

Hongjoong motioned for her to approach, and when she was close enough, Hongjoong gripped her arm and looked her in the face, "Open the safe, and don't try anything funny." He whispered.

You used the linoleum floor to push the blindfold from your face, catching sight of Seonghwa and Yunho standing on the second floor, their guns positioned at the back of the victims. It almost looked like they were ready to shoot.

Hongjoong lead the bank manager around to the safe at the back of the building, where she opened it with shaky hands. Then a shot was rung out.

The desk someone sat at was completely destroyed, the sight of Seonghwa glaring through his balaclava.

"Every one of you to the center floor now!" Seonghwa shouted, and people began to shuffle towards yourself and San. From the position Seonghwa was in, it was obvious he could see the entire floor.

Hongjoong returned with the bank manager, a plastic wrap tucked into the vest he wore. "That wasn't so hard, was it? And no one got injured." He chuckled, returning the bank manager to the group that sat on the ground floor.

Hongjoong spoke clearly, "Secured. Web, whenever you're ready." His hands rested on the gun, and looked into the faces of the victims; some were teary eyed, some were angry and some were avoiding their eyes.

You looked into the eyes of one, sympathizing as their eyes watered in terror.

This. This was your out.

You opened your mouth as San began speaking, and didn't mutter a word; just mouthed it. Using your eyes to motion them to look at Hongjoong, you mouthed the instructions. And they only furrowed their brows, shaking their head, scared of even the possibility of getting injured.

If anyone was going to be able to end this, it had to be someone who could fight back. And there was more than enough to take the fight between the four invaders. If they had the possibility of saving everyone, even yourself, they should take it. They would be reveled as heroes; people who saved the hostages of the National Bank. But, no one would take the risk. They all had families, friends. People they loved. Creatures they loved. They wouldn't risk it.

If you were to be the one to sacrifice, they would do it. Because the blood staining their hands wasn't as bad as leaving the ones they loved.

You assumed Jongho must've responded to Hongjoong's call. San was quick to pick you up off the floor by your restrained arms and drag you out of the building. You looked around for any type of exit to get away from them. Standing around was just as bad as doing what they were. But, once again, like every chance before, they had nearly every corner blocked off. Seonghwa, Wooyoung and Yunho were walking from the back of the building around the corner and Hongjoong opened the door for us all, before you got thrown in the back just like before.

You anxiously watched the hostage all relax, and you begged, pleaded for a way to feel that comfort, of being able to relax. Not constantly feeling like you were under watch by these monsters. Jongho drove off as everyone sat in their seats, taking the initiative to drive away from the building, and as you drove off, you saw the police round the corner, and everyone filed out, some falling to their knees from fear.

You wished to feel their fear. And the rush of being alive after a five minute standoff with five villains. You were oddly surprised that you could feel fear this intensely through your bones, despite being with them for a day.

"Now, you're one of us." Wooyoung chuckled.

You looked at him, your brows furrowed, "What?"

Seonghwa turned from the front seat, looking at you, "You've committed as much a crime as we had."

"Again, what?" Your teeth grit, "I was kidnapped. I was held hostage." You pointed out the obvious, looking between the men in the car, "I was an unfortunate victim in this whole situation!"

San chuckled softly, "Aiding a criminal in a crime is just as bad as doing the crime." You could already hear the condescending high pitched voice he spoke with before the words even left his lips. "You're just as guilty as we are."

"I. Was. Kidnapped." You emphasized, "By you! Those people you all just traumatized, are not the only victims."

Seonghwa waved his hand, turning back to the front, "Someone blindfold her again. And gag her. She's getting annoying."

"You're no better." Jongho mumbled, his hand tightening on the steering wheel, "We still have a few miles to go."

Jongho easily turned into another lane, leaning on his hand as he drove.

Seonghwa looked back at the others, "Well? Are any of you gonna do it?"

San sighed, "Yeosang said not too!"

You completely forgot that they had in-ears wrapped around the shell of their ears, all communicating between one another. You felt out of the loop; what exactly did Yeosang say not to do? What were they communicating between each other?

Seonghwa sighed deeply, obviously annoyed as he pulled out a single of his own in-ear, and motioned to you.

Seonghwa wrapped it around your ear for you, slowly pushing it into your ear.

"Go, for Base." Seonghwa called.

Yeosang cleared his throat, "Y/N? Are you there?"

You nodded, before realizing that he couldn't hear you, which you choked out a "yes" in a small, shy voice.

"If you look out onto the road, you'll see the route back to the dump." He spoke simply, "Because of this, we have no other reason than to recruit you." His voice was filled by the keys of his keyboard, "You'll either have to pledge loyalty, or we have no other option then to keep you hostage. And, possibly kill you."

"You don't kill people." You shot back, looking at the road in front of you.

Yeosang chuckled. The clicking of the keyboard stopped, a gentle creak from his chair echoing, "We unfortunately have to finish off the ones we try to recruit that don't agree. Just a little Kyomi group secret."

The list of charges they could catch just add up; armed robbery, kidnapping, assault and battery, and murder. You had the benefit of doubt that they didn't kill, and Yeosang obviously had a heavy heart telling you what exactly they did.

"So," Yeosang chuckled, "What'll it be? Be part of Kyomi, or meet the sweet embrace of your own inevitable destiny?"

You sighed; It was a lose-lose situation. Either commit crimes and the possibility of life in prison, or die? If you had another option, you'd take that in a heartbeat. Being a housekeeper, being an informant for the group, or just going home, would have sufficed.

But, obviously, they cared too much about their pride to let you off the hook so easily. They cared too much about those Dream Texts that you still have no clue what they were about. They cared too much about their own safety to risk sending you off in the world.

You clenched your fist, "How do you know that I'm not in connection with the police? What if I let you all take me hostage?"

"Because you aren't that smart." Yeosang whispered, his voice tickling the inside of your ear, "L/N Y/N, graduated from SKU with a degree in journalism, which is surprising, since you only had a 2.8 GPA throughout your school career." His voice twinged with amusement. "You spend majority of your money at the convenience store and on bills. You live in an apartment complex, although I won't share the address, I know where it's located. Your social security number is—"

"Okay, okay." You stopped him, "Okay, fine. I get it." Your lips trembled as you spoke, "I'll... I'll join Kyomi."

Yeosang chuckled, "I knew you'd choose the right choice." You could hear the smile in his voice. "But, for the time being, you'll have to keep being restrained, for the safety of my comrades."

You wanted to curse at him, and let all of your aggression out on him. If they really thought they were gonna get away with this, they were sorely mistaken.

You would find a way to report them, and you would finally be free of the wack jobs that thought it would be a good idea to kidnap you.

It's been two months since Yeosang thought it was a good idea to have you join Kyomi. And it absolutely was not. Your plan to get out of there as quick as you could wasn't working as well as you hoped, but, everyday, you spent your hours looking for a way to leave, to report what exactly happened to you.

Your face would briefly show up on the news every now and again, with your family begging for you to find your way home, as if the police force haven't already ruled you out as presumed dead.

The last everyone saw of you was at the National Bank, where you were pulled away by the rope tied behind your back. You still feel the rope around your wrists every now and again, waking up from nightmares, hoping it was all a joke that you were put in this position.

Nevertheless, you pretended to be on their side. Seonghwa has lightened up to you, and will even indulge about San and Wooyoung's ridiculous behavior. Mingi was back in the game, having you taking over his spot as resident hacker of the group. Those coding classes would've done you well, if you had any idea this is what you'd be doing. Yet, it seems like every time you touched a keyboard, your mind blanks on why exactly you agreed to do this.

Yeosang has everything blocked on your computer, which you believed he put on as soon as Mingi said he'd want to join the guys on their heists.

You've been given a new identity, essentially. They didn't call you "newscaster", they called you "Centipede," which you wholeheartedly believed was Yeosang's idea, after he shared his disgust to centipedes after. You and the arthropods.

You wore an in-ear, just like Yeosang did, and talked with the guys while they were out, and it still hits the ear wrong when they call you the name. Like they were taunting you.

Aside from the new, definitely underpaying job and the new name, you could not even begin to describe the bedding situation. You shared a bed with 7 others; all guys. You were, rightfully so, tense every time you walked in after a shower to grab a fresh pair of clothes. The beds were lumpy and you slept on the bottom bunk, shared with Seonghwa at the top, who slept like a rock, but was surprisingly easy to wake up when it was needed. A slight tap on the shoulder and he was awake. You didn't understand that when you were first nabbed by them, when he was sleeping in the van. Not to mention, he slept max four hours. Wooyoung and Yunho had a bad snoring problem, so you could rarely get any sleep through the two months, but now, unfortunately, you were growing accustomed to it. It was like white noise. And you didn't even want to start with the splinters you received on the first night; bad mistake not thinking to borrow someone's slippers.

Hongjoong, Mingi and San were light sleepers. You'd shift in your bed across the room, and the three of them were already staring at you, like you were in the wrong. San slept with stuffed animals, which was entirely uncharacteristic of the Hornet you met the first time you were brought there.

Everyone of them were uncharacteristically what you thought; Seonghwa was actually a sweetheart when he wasn't under pressure; he enjoyed building legos, and had the ones he built sitting in the shared window the two of you had. San was an animal lover, and you had to turn away multiple strays he brought back to the shack. Mingi was quiet. He had a bunch of interests that you really couldn't keep track of. Yunho was like a giant puppy. A single bit of praise and his invisible tail was wagging like he had happy tail. Hongjoong was much more serious than the others, despite his first introduction. Wooyoung was more or less the same, but when he wanted to be, he was much too serious than what you were used to. You were used to his boisterous laugh that echoed through the house, yet he gets pulled out into the field and he changes demeanor completely. Jongho wasn't fond of praise and gratitude, in fact, he spent most of his time waiting for the guys to finish up the heists by driving around, listening to girl groups.

The only one you could never really understand was Yeosang. He seemed much like the same as when you first met and saw him. Bags under his eyes from staring at a screen all night and all day, disheveled hair and kept to himself. You both never slept at the same time. He was the eye in the sky, and the security. He slept around the time all of you woke up, yet, he was up and at 'em not even an hour or two after he slept. Now that you think about it, there was only eight beds available in the barracks, as you like to call them, and you were the eighth. It made you think about where exactly Yeosang would sleep, and you began to wonder if he took your place on the couch to rest or if he stole someone else's bed to sleep in.

This morning started like any other; restless, tired and exhausted, and you were aware that all the words you were repeating to yourself had the same meaning, but that only emphasized your point that you were so exhausted, you couldn't think of anything else.

Yunho and Wooyoung were snoring so much that night, you thought they might've caught a cold from the way they sounded. Maybe that's why Wooyoung was so goofy with you, the lack of oxygen to his brain during sleep.

Hongjoong woke up and wandered over to you, nudging you slightly, and you turned to look at him. "Holy shit," he began, "I think you're beginning to spend a bit too much time with Yeosang." His finger went under his eye and began to swipe there back and forth.

You sighed, sitting up, "It's not that. They never shut up." You whispered to him, pointing at the two chronic sleep apnea patients, "I'm so tired." The exhaustion was beginning to catch up to you, and you rubbed your eyes.

Hongjoong smiled softly, "Well, today's a rest day while Jongho tries to find a new car for us to use the plates you found yesterday. Take the day to yourself."

You sighed, nodding lightly.

Normally, taking a rest day back in your normal life, you would have went out shopping and went to visit friends and family. Now, all you had to yourself was a walk around the junkyard, occasionally ending it earlier than you would have liked to due to a pest running rampant through the disgusting, rusted cars and whatever trash was left in there.

And that was definitely not going to cut it.

"I'll make some breakfast. Eat, then come back up to rest." Hongjoong basically planned your entire day for you. All you wanted to do was sleep the day away, which is something you've done a lot on rest days.

Hongjoong wandered around the corner to get downstairs and you laid back on the lumpy bed, your head meeting the pillow in a short second. The snoring seemed like it was getting louder by the second, and you were too exhausted to even move to cover your ears.

You shifted positions to face towards the empty bunk Hongjoong left, wrapping the weighted blanket around your body, and burrowing your nose into the soft fabric, sighing as you felt your tension melt away.

If you were home in your apartment, you wouldn't have had this issue. You wouldn't have to try almost anything to fall asleep. Hell, you wouldn't have even woken up. Tale has it, you were a heavy sleeper before you were brought here.

Shutting your eyes and hoping for the embrace of sleep to take you over, you sighed just as the steps creaked. Opening your eyes was already too much of a labor, so you just covered yourself more with the blanket.

A sigh exited from someone's lips, the floorboards creaking as they walked over towards the bottom bunk bed and laid back. Wooyoung was directly above them, as they laid in Hongjoong's empty bunk.

"Shut up." A kick was met to Wooyoung's stomach from underneath, right underneath the bed slats. "Get a mask." They scolded.

Opening your eyes, the exhaustion was already setting again, squinting as you looked across the short distance.

Yeosang laid on the bed, the shadow under his eyes already looking worse for wear. His shirt was discarded on the floor, and his sweatpants were below his hips. He covered his face with his forearm, sighing as his body relaxed.

Okay, so Yeosang was attractive. That much was obvious. And, what's the worse that could happen? He breaks your heart because he's too focused on Kyomi? Or, he doesn't see you the same way because he works too close to you?

You blinked as you watched his body relax, his free hand resting on his belly, his fingers brushing the waistband of the grey sweatpants.

The last two months were long. Tiring, even. But, just like you would do in high school, you'd take extra care into your appearance, even if it meant you got a second longer of a look from someone.

"Stop staring at me."

You nearly jumped out of your skin at the harsh call, feeling your ears bleed red.

Yeosang moved the arm over his eyes and faced you, his hair falling in front of his eyes.

"Sorry." You mumbled, "I was spacing out."

Yeosang chuckled, "You're an idiot."

The jab was meant to be cruel, but you could see the sparkle in his eyes, and the smile that crossed his lips, and oh, my god, did you hear that laugh? The way he spoke, even if it was meant to be cruel was so soft, and you know it's just how he is; his care and warmth are there, despite the harsh words that bite at you.

You rolled your eyes, curling your legs under the blanket, "Are you going to sleep now?"

Yeosang shook his head, "I never really sleep much when I get up here." He mumbled, studying the slats as if there was something there, "Wooyoung and Yunho snore too loud."

You laughed softly, "Tell me about it."

Yeosang smiled softly, closing his eyes briefly, "I wonder if it's even worth sleeping in here."

Shaking your head, you smiled gently, "It's not." It was simple, shortcut. "I haven't gotten a good night's rest since I've been given this bunk."

Yeosang's face relaxed, turning his head back to you, "Can I ask you a question?" His voice was like shoes dragging through gravel, and his eyes stared at you intently. You couldn't help but nod. "Why did you agree to stay? And why haven't you even tried to leave yet?"

"Oh, my god, you mean I could've went home?" You asked sarcastically, your eyes playfully widened. But, you saw the look in his eyes and decided that maybe it was time you opened up to him. It was your turn to sigh, turning to look up at the slats that held Seonghwa's bed, "My life was going nowhere in the job I was in." You spoke simply, "I didn't even want to work for a big news station like that. I would've rather have worked back in my hometown, but, someone got the job I wanted."

Yeosang looked at your profile, his eyes scanning the way your nose was, the curve of your lips and the long eyelashes you had. He's worked beside you for two months, and he never noticed just how enticing you were. Your eyes turned to his, his heart nearly beating out of his chest.

"Besides," you started, "My family never really checked up on me." Shrugging, you got all the more comfortable, "Everything we see on the news feels a bit fake anyhow."

Yeosang couldn't really recall his family life before Kyomi and the Dream Texts.

"We've given you so many opportunities." Yeosang whispers.

You chuckled, "Did you really though?" You asked softly, "The last two months, I'm scared to even try to sleep."

Yeosang shook his head, "You didn't have to be scared." He mumbled, "We've always given you an option."

His eyes were shining, the sun hitting his brow bone to give you a better look at the honey eyes he had.

"Well, I'm here now." You responded, his eyes completely captivating his beauty.

Yeosang and you held the eye contact, not saying another word to one another. Wooyoung and Yunho's snoring filled the air between you two.

Tension, heat and pressure surrounded you both, before Yeosang scooted himself off the bed and wandered over to you, climbing on top of you over the blanket and leaned his face close to yours.

"Do you feel it too?" He whispered, his lips only inches apart from yours.

A breath was caught in your throat, and you swallowed roughly. You assumed he was talking about the sudden tension that covered you both, and you agreed. You did feel it. It loomed over your head, every so often. Now, during missions, after missions.

"You do feel it." Yeosang smirked, leaning forward to encapsulating your lips with his own.

The dream you've had every night about him was coming true. Yeosang had a sweet tooth, the citric acid from Sour Punch Straws he frequently ate echoed against your lips. His long hair practically covered his eyes as the strands brushed your cheeks. His hands were hot against yours as he intertwined your fingers with his own. His weight was distributed evenly on top of you, basically pinning you down to the bed.

Yeosang pulled his lips away from yours, his face still centimeters from yours, "I've been wanting to do that since you took over Mingi's desk."

You blushed, feeling the blood rush through your neck up to your ears.

Yeosang's hand gently cupped your cheek, rubbing your skin with his calloused thumb, "Tell me if you want me to stop."

His lips met your neck, his tongue gently running along the skin, his hand hot against your cheek. His lips left wet kisses against you, and when a gasp escaped on a certain spot, they turned up into a smile, gently biting the skin with his teeth.

His lips, his lips, his lips, it was all you could think about as they moved from your neck, down your chest, stopping just at your belly button, placing gentle kisses on the skin and rubs your thighs with his hands.

You were so nervous, you honestly couldn't remember the last time you got laid, let alone by someone you work with. If you remembered correctly, it was a year or so-

Yeosang had pulled your shorts off, along with your panties, smiling softly, "Look at you, kitten. Aren't you so pretty?"

God, you thought, When he calls me that, it makes me want to scream.

His smirk only grew wider, "Do you want to continue?"

You nodded your head vigorously, already sure that you would have given yourself whiplash, "Please."

Yeosang settled in between your legs on his stomach, throwing your legs over his shoulders and held your thighs in place with his hands.

His hands were strong, and veiny. They were warm around your thighs, compared to the cold chill in the air. His callused hands were rough against your soft skin, his tongue a nice heat against your mound.

Your hand shot to grab at his hair as he sucked on your clit, a soft moan escaping your lips.

"Shh, baby, you don't wanna wake up the others, right?"

It was impossibly hard to think of keeping your moans back, since Yeosang was making you feel so good.

Yeosang continued his pace, his tongue dipping down in between your folds, working his fingers against your clit.

The thought of waking up the others from their slumber excited you, and almost made you infinitely more comfortable with the idea.

Yeosang kept his eyes trained on you as your chest rises and falls, watching how each movement of his tongue affected you. And when you began to groan, your legs shaking, Yeosang knew just how well of a job he was doing.

"Sang..." You whimpered, thighs threatening to squeeze against his head.

Yeosang chuckled, using his thumb to pull the hood of your clit back to teasingly bite at it, lifting his head as you let out a loud yelp. He glanced around the room, hearing an interruption of Yunho's snore before he began once again, "Come on, kitty cat, can't you try to keep quiet?" He sat up, positioning himself between your legs, his buldge pressing against your heat, the sweats he wore staining with the wetness from your cunt.

"Sang..." Your voice was strained, looking up at him with begging eyes, "Fuck..."

"Can't get the words out?" Yeosang smiled, leaning forward as he laid on his arms on either side of your head, "Come here, baby." He whispered, pressing a deep kiss against your lips, one of his hands running through your hair just as the other tugged his sweats down, the tip of his cock pressing against your entrance, "Is this okay?" He gasped softly.

You nodded, "Yes, yes... More than okay."

Yeosang smiled softly, capturing your lips once more as he slowly pressed into you, the heat from the stretch as you grew accustomed to the size of his cock was painful, yet pleasurable. "Fuck, you're so tight, baby." He bottomed out, holding you close to him as he slowly moved his hips against your own. He chuckled as a loud moan escaped your lips, using the hand that tangled in your hair to cover your mouth, "Shh, shh, angel." He cooed softly as his thrusts grew faster, looking between the two of you where you were both connected.

Yeosang's cock twitched against your walls, listening to your groans and smiling as he felt you clench around him.

"Y/N!" a voice called up the stairs, and Yeosang and you both shared a look. "Hey, Y/N, are you still awake?"

Yeosang adjusted your position so you both laid on your side, pulling the blanket over his head, looking up at you, "Pretend to be asleep." He whispered, his cock continuing to press into you. "And keep quiet."

You furrowed your brows, looking down at him before Hongjoong stepped up the stairs. Yeosang's hips continued to roll against yours, and you felt a soft whine about to escape your lips.

"Hey, Y/N." Hongjoong approached the bed and despite your best efforts, you screwed your eyes shut, and buried your face in the pillow. Yeosang moved slow, pressing soft and silent kisses against your sternum. "Y/N, food's ready."

Your ears were bright red, the soft sounds of your wet cunt echoed against the walls. Or were you just toning out Yunho and Wooyoung's snoring?

Hongjoong called your name one last time before he found his way back down the stairs. As if on cue, Yeosang peeked his head out from under the blanket, chuckling softly, "Good girl." He whispered, grasping your hips tightly in his hands, "You're just a good girl." Yeosang thrusted deep into you, "Gonna cum for me?" His thumb rubbed at your clit, his voice gruff and strained as he laughed at your convulsing.

"Mmhmm." You whined out, gasping as his thumb continued his assault.

"Cum for me, kitty." He whispered, moaning out as he felt his own climax quickly approaching, "Fuck, you feel so good."

As your cum dripped from your cunt, Yeosang was quick enough to pull out from your entrance, his cum coating your lower half, his gasps turning into panting as his cock twitched in his hand.

Yeosang chuckled breathlessly, leaning forward to press a kiss to your forehead, "Fuck, baby." He smiled, holding your ankles gently to move your legs from around his hips, "I knew you'd feel good."

The action you both committed finally began to register in your brain. With 4 of the other members of the Kyomi group in the room. You quickly reached your hands up to hide your face, chuckling softly, "I can't believe we just did that." You whispered out.

"I can't believe we did that with the guys in here." He smiled, pecking your cheek before he pulled up his sweats and stood from the bed, rising his arms to hold the side of the top bunk, looking down at you, "Wait here." Yeosang turned to the restroom, grabbing a wash cloth and sitting beside you on the bed, "It's gonna be cold." He warned, chuckling softly as he pressed the cloth against your mound.

You blushed softly as his gentle hands cleaned your skin of his climax, "Did you mean what you said?"

Yeosang looked up to look at you, "You know me better than that." He mumbled, "You know I'm not one to say anything if I don't mean it."

"So, you've really been thinking about this since I took over Mingi's desk?"

Yeosang smiled, "Actually, I've been thinking about it since you got your callsign." He folded up the cloth, setting it down on the window sill, "I didn't make it up for no reason."

You pulled your bottoms up your legs, laying on your side to look at him, his arm around your hip as he leaned on his hand, smiling at you, "I thought you hated centipedes?"

"Sure. But, it's just a callsign." He shrugged, "It doesn't mean anything." He used his other hand to cup your cheek.

"Okay, sure." You rolled your eyes, smiling at him, "You must've had a lot of fun when taunting me."

"Sure did. Why? You liked it?" He chuckled, pinching your cheek between his fingers.

"Maybe I did."

"Bet you did."

"Yeosang!" A voice shouted up the stairs, and Yeosang was quick to move from where he sat, rushing down the stairs.

You could feel your heart racing in your throat at the urgent call and was about to follow until Seonghwa quickly dropped down from his bunk, "Stay here, Centi." He patted your shoulder as he moved around the room, waking up the remaining members, who also were quick to stand up.

Wooyoung and Yunho, who were formally snoring, furrowed their brows as they stood up. San shot up at the sound of urgency in Seonghwa's voice.

"What's happening?" Your voice trembled, watching as the three men walked by, "Seonghwa, what's happening?"

Seonghwa almost made it past, before he sighed, "You wouldn't understand." He grumbled, "Just stay put." He continued down the stairs, skipping each step as he moved, "What's happening?"

The voices all blurred together, your feet slowly moving down the steps before you sat down just out of view.

"The cops are on their way." That was Hongjoong, "Mingi just confirmed with the scanner." You could hear the shaking of his voice.

"Jongho isn't back yet." Seonghwa glanced amongst them all, his arms crossed, "Meaning our means of leaving are pretty low."

"We could hide in the junkyard, couldn't we?" San whispered.

Seonghwa rubbed his temples, "That's fucking stupid, San."

"We have 30 minutes to either pack up and get out of here, or 30 minutes to find a way to stand our ground." Yeosang grumbled, the echo of the mouse clicking between them all.

Wooyoung stomped towards the steps, "Well what are we waiting for?"

Seonghwa sighed, "We'll never get anywhere in 30 minutes." He crossed his arms, "Packing up everything we need is too much of a hassle. Centi will never get far enough."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Yeosang interjected.

"She's not exactly the most active person, Sang. Why do you think I stuck her with you?" Seonghwa bit back, "We'll have to find a way to get out of this."

"Oh, dude, I can't go to prison again." Yunho groaned, tangling his hands in his hair.

"Yeosang, Mingi, wipe everything from the PC's. Hongjoong, San, you two find somewhere to get rid of our weapons. Yunho, try to get an update on Jongho." Seonghwa's brows were pinched together, crossing his arms over his chest once more, "We're gonna have to find a way to make us seem like normal people."

Everyone was quick to do their assigned tasks while you sat there on the stairs, your eyes glancing at them all from the railing of the stairs. Seonghwa turned back to the stairs, looking at you with sharp eyes.

You've remembered that look. The same look he gave you when he first saw you at the museum, and you felt just as small now as you did back then.

Seonghwa gripped your hair, looking at you, "Let me figure out you had something to do with this, and I won't stop hunting you down for the rest of your life."

"Ow, Seonghwa..." You grumbled, trying to pull your hair from his hand, and sighed as soon as he let go, "I promise, I didn't have anything to do with this."

Seonghwa continued to walk up the stairs, his eyes stuck on you until he turned the corner into the room.

You glanced back over the railing, your eyes meeting Yeosang's. As if under a spell, you slowly began to move down the stairs to stand beside Yeosang, whose hand squeezed yours.

"I hope everything's okay." You whispered.

Yeosang smiled softly, "We'll be fine." His eyes focused on the screen, watching the recovery drive get moved to the USB plugged into the computer, "Not the first time this has happened."

Nodding your head, you moved to sit on the arm of his desk chair, his arm wrapping around his waist as he finished clicking his mouse.

Everyone was off doing what Seonghwa assigned them to do. San and Hongjoong returned from the junkyard covered in dirt, sweat rolling down their foreheads. Mingi and Yeosang both ran recovery drives through the computer before they both ripped apart the components and tossed them on their desks.

Seonghwa was stowed away upstairs and Yunho paced the front porch of the shack, the rain pattering atop the roof, a loud twang! echoing the room as the droplets rhythmically dripped into a steel bucket placed against the wall by the stairs.

"17 minutes out." Seonghwa called, tossing a backpack onto the couch; your couch that you were handcuffed to months ago.

You've grown to love the rundown shack; the leaky roof, the splintered floor, the creaky stairs. You thought you'd grow to hate the building, but... it grew on you like a rash.

Yeosang glanced up at you as you sat on the arm of his chair, "You should go change." He whispered to you softly.

You nodded your head, "Yeah. Yeah, I'll go change." You stood up and made your way up the stairs as if someone else was controlling you. Your shoulders slumped, your head hanging down between them. You pulled on the pants one leg at a time, your shirt over your head, a coat, thick socks and shoes.

"We can't bring her with us." You heard the voice, immediately recognizing it was Seonghwa.

Yeosang piped up, "And why not?"

"At the moment, she's one of the largest missing person's case in the country. If someone sees her with us," Seonghwa trailed off.

"We can't just leave her." Mingi mumbled, cursing to himself as a clatter dropped to the floor, "We're safer if we take her with us."

Seonghwa voice strained, "She won't say anything." He scoffed, "She's too afraid."

"She's coming with us." Your heart twanged as Yeosang's voice dropped, "End of discussion."

"Since when have you been one to make decisions?" The sound of Seonghwa's heavy boots bounced off the walls.

"Since you've grown more incompetent." Yeosang responded back, "She's coming with us."

You adjusted the jacket over your shoulders, staring at the backboard of the old closet, trying to make it seem like you weren't evasdropping at a time like this just as Yeosang reached over your shoulder to grab his own pair of clothes.

"You shouldn't be listening to that stuff." Yeosang leaned against the wall as he pulled on his clothing, moving some of his hair from his eyes, "You know Seonghwa's just being dramatic."

"I can't help it." You shrug, turning to look at him as he laced up the boots, "Yeosang."

"Hm?"

"What's supposed to happen?"

Yeosang paused from tying his shoe before he started once more, "Same thing that happens everytime we get caught up like this; run until we find somewhere to set base again." He mumbled, "Y/N, you know, if you do this..." He stood up, grabbing your hand in his own, squeezing it, "If you do this, you'll be just like us."

You furrow your brows, "Have I not always been like you guys?"

"Of course you have, but... this'll seal the deal. Before, you were just collateral, a hostage. But now, if you follow us down this path, you'll be a fugitive. You won't be able to go back."

You shrugged, "Well, I don't wanna go back."

"No," Yeosang chuckled bitterly, "No, you don't understand." He shook his head, "Think about it. Use the last..." He glanced at his bare wrist as if there was a watch there, but you knew he was counting down the seconds in his head, "15, 14 minutes of this time to really think."

He walked off, despite one of his boots not being tied through, not giving you a second glance.

You stood in the middle of the room, as everyone moved in and out, grabbing their items, their clothes, their prized possessions. Hongjoong was kind enough to pack up Jongho's belongings for him.

You spent that time really thinking like Yeosang said to. You thought about your life before these two months; it was bitter, it was bland and it was unexciting. But, here... with the boys, with Yeosang, it was everything you wished for. You didn't have to dress a certain way to work. You didn't have to pretend to like the people you worked with. You didn't have to pretend like everything was okay.

You moved your feet down the steps, seeing the 7 men who you have grown so accustomed to standing in a circle, glancing you up and down as you tightened the straps of the bag over your shoulders.

"What are you guys waiting for?" You mumbled, looking at them all as you approached the door.

And despite your excitement to pull open the door to the downpour, seeing eight to nine police cars skidding along the road with their lights flashing and sirens chirping was enough to have you withdraw your hand from the handle.

"Shit, they're here!" San shouted, looking out the windows to the front of the shack, "If we go out there..."

"Stop making a bad situation worse." Seonghwa bit, "They aren't gonna shoot on sight. They have too damn much to ask."

"What are we gonna do, Hwa?" Yunho asked.

Seonghwa pushed his way to the front, gently moving you aside as he slowly opened the door, his hands raised, "Don't shoot." He grumbled, lacing his fingers behind his head as he stepped down the shack's rickety steps.

The rain water pattered on his head, moving close enough to look down at the police.

"My name is Park Seonghwa." He shouted, "I'm 25 years old. I was born in Jinju. I have an older brother. My blood type is..." He was listing out random facts about himself, until an officer approached him and was quick to cuff him.

"They've got Wasp." Hongjoong dropped his items and went out into the rain, steam practically escaping his ears as he tried to intervene, only to be met with the butt of a gun and fall into the mud.

"Shit."

"Show yourselves." You recognized the man on the intercom. God, how could you forget? You've spoken to him so many times. The police chief of the National Police Force.

San was the first to lead the way out the door with his hands up, Mingi, then Yunho, then you, then Yeosang. Police officers began to surround the area, Seonghwa now being moved into the back of a police car, Hongjoong's unconscious body being placed in the back of the same one. One by one, they got handcuffed.

"Yeosang!" You shouted, ready to run to him before the police chief placed a heavy hand on your shoulder.

"Y/N..." Yeosang barely whispered over the rain, before he was shoved into the back of a police car, sat beside Yunho was looked like he was about ready to start kicking at the officers.

You gave one final panicked look at the Kyomi members in the back of the police cars; a calm and collected Seonghwa, an unconscious Hongjoong, a panicked San and Mingi, an angry Yunho. Yet, you couldn't read Yeosang. You never could.

You couldn't tell what he was thinking.

The police questioned you for hours about the last two months you spent with Kyomi, and you spent a lot of time with a hired therapist they said that brought in to help hostage victims. Your family were ecstatic to see you, nearly moved to tears at the sight of you wearing the black clothes, your shoes covered in mud and your hair stringy from the rain.

Despite answering their questions to the best of your ability without incriminating anybody, the entire time all you could think about was "Where's Yeosang? Is he in the station too?"

You were granted release from the station not long after being taken in, the blanket wrapped over your shoulders and holding the cup of coffee they offered you as they kicked you out like a newborn calf. You sniffled softly from the chill of the rain lingering in the air.

You glanced upwards, and your bottom lip trembled as you saw Jongho sitting there in a car, climbing inside beside him.

Neither of you shared words; Jongho wasn't one for that, but he did gently pat you on the head as soon as he turned the car on and began to drive off, the sound of 2NE1 filling the quiet space.

You never knew what happened to the boys. Jongho and you both tried to figure out what exactly happened but... there was never much about it on the news or anywhere else. Yeosang, the boys and that rundown old shack in the middle of an old junkyard were an exciting new beginning to a life you only got a taste of. But now, you'd have to live with the bitter, bland and boring life that you had previously.

Becoming a news reporter wasn't your first option...

282 notes · View notes

deanbrainrotwritings · 11 months

Text

— LIVIN IN YOU

SUMMARY : dean actually loves reading. it should have been obvious what he’d enjoy reading the most. he doesn’t hate all books. he likes fun ones, ones with spice and romance.

PAIRING : dean winchester x fem!reader

CHARACTERS : none

WARNINGS : nsfw(18+), smut, smutty thoughts, fluff, sub!dean, dom!reader

WORD COUNT : 4.9k

A/N : title from a song by radio company. I was doing research on erotic novels for this and Bared to You by Silvia Day was the first book that popped up so I started reading it as research and planned to read only one chapter. It was all I was gonna include but I ended up liking it, and finished it lmaooo X

Dean couldn’t sleep. His bed was too empty, too cold. He moved around trying to find a comfortable position to finally fall asleep in, before he groaned and stared up at the ceiling thinking of what to do to put himself to sleep.

Y/N was out really late with Cas and Jack getting dinner since Cas and Jack went out on a hunt together and succeeded. Dean had just showered and eaten when they came back and Jack was starving so Y/N kissed Dean goodnight and went to take Jack and Cas for a late night dinner.

He chuckled shyly to himself as his brain suggested something. He looked around for his headphones and then searched in his box where he had his porn. Y/N didn’t look inside because she wasn’t interested in it—having him and all that was her reasoning. He hasn’t looked at his porn in years but he still liked collecting it anyway and Y/N didn’t mind that he did.

He finally found what he was looking for at the bottom of the box, beneath the Busty Asian Beauties magazines he had. He was paranoid and embarrassed about the thought of Y/N finding this out. It was a book he hadn’t read when he first got it. He and Cas had gone to the library years back and he was looking for something to teach Cas about sex while Y/N and Sam stayed back at the Bunker, cooking.

Dean led Cas to the erotic novels sections at the bookstore in town and he started to pick random books for him to read, from LGBTQ+ to heterosexual couples, monogamy to polyamory, BDSM, and more. Even Dean learned a few new things and they made him realise how right Rowena was when she said he was “sheltered”.

Dean sat, cross-legged, in the middle of his bed and kept his sheets on his lap to keep him warm. He plugged his headphones into his phone and let Led Zeppelin play quietly as he tried to focus on the words of the book. He was shy about reading it, so he was barely on chapter six of the book titled Bared to You. It was intense and straight to the point while all at once being a slow burn.

The main character, Eva, reminded him a little of Y/N with her wit and stubbornness, while the love interest, Gideon Cross, reminded him of himself if he were rich and more intense.

He wanted to skip straight to the sex scenes, but since it was surprisingly good, he decided against it. Once he’d started reading it—thinking he’d fall asleep quickly a few days ago, he found himself enthralled and captivated page after page as if he hadn’t had much more intense and creative sex with Y/N at least every night and morning.

He enjoyed the book more by imagining it was him and Y/N as Gideon and Eva. It could at least explain the blush that flared up his neck to his ears and cheeks, and the way his cock stiffened and swelled inside his black boxers.

He never touched himself, he just kept reading the fucked up relationship between Eva and Gideon, grateful that—as fucked up as he and Y/N were, they didn’t have something as complicated or toxic as them.

He wasn’t very good at talking about his feelings or his troubles, but he got there eventually as he processed events. Y/N didn’t push, she was just there—waiting for him, and never complained. She trusted him and she was kind, which helped to make her trust him. It was easier since she knew how to handle her own emotions despite how powerfully she felt them. So much about her made him feel safe enough to feel whatever he was feeling without being judged, invalidated, or forced to talk about it.

He didn’t always tell her he loved her in the traditional sense—through words, but he hoped—when he kissed her, when he made love to her, when he cooked for her, when he held her hand, when he smiled at her, and everything else he did—that she knew it was his way of saying it when it was too much to say out loud.

The book wasn’t very long and it was occasionally real to him. He sometimes related to Gideon and Eva, to their trauma, the feeling of being undeserving of love, the fear of vulnerability and intimacy, the inadequate feeling self-hate caused, disgust, and using sex as a coping mechanism. Now, when he had sex, it was because of surges of love and lust from how kind and tender Y/N was with him.

He didn’t feel used or objectified by her, he didn’t feel good about himself only during sex. He felt loved, worshipped, beautiful, and worthy with every press of her lips on his freckled skin, with every movement of her hands on his body, with the adoring words whispered into his mouth, against his skin. He felt it outside of the bedroom when she gazed at him lovingly when he talked about anything at all—and there was a special little glint when he gushed about cowboys. He felt it when he ate and caught her looking at him already with warm and amused eyes, when she cooked and fed him, praising him and complimenting him for looking cute as he ate. He felt it when she listened and kept her eyes on him like he was the only one in the room worth looking at, the way she hung on his every word, and how she was kind to him despite all the hurt she’s felt. She was everything. There wasn’t a single moment he’s spent with her where he hasn’t felt it.

So, even though the story did stress him out sometimes, he liked comparing Gideon and Eva to himself and Y/N. It made him feel proud of their relationship and good about himself because Gideon was really frustrating to him—and yes, Dean was aware how he keeps stuff to himself as well. However, he had never inflicted such anguish on Y/N by doing so, and he can’t keep it inside very long when Y/N makes him open up like a flower when it’s kissed by the sunrise. It’s not forced, he’s not pressured, it's just natural that he does so, bending to her tender will.

He already knew, years ago, when he started to love her. But the moment he actually let it take him over was when he was fresh out of hell, when they stood by his car in the cold, outside that barn where they hid Anna from Uriel and Cas. And he knew he was done for when she looked at him like he was everything, even as she confessed to knowing what he’d done in hell, when he realised that it didn’t alter or affect her feelings for him.

His walls were obliterated as if they were hit by a meteor when she kissed him, when she stole his breath for the first time, when she touched him so tenderly. When he felt her naked skin against his for the first time, and she quietly chanted his name over and over when he claimed her inside the backseat of his car. He was devastated by the gentle caress of her touch, by her soft panting breaths as he teased her, by the taste of her, by the way she tasted him. He felt beautiful—like a star after its death—when he was inside her that night for the first time, when he’d made love to her like he’d never loved anyone else.

He’d always known she was the only person he’d truly love after that Djinn made her his girlfriend in the wish-dream many years ago. When he told her he loved her in that dream-state and as he said them, he thought to himself that those words were only for her, he swore to himself that he’d never say them to anyone.

He’d gotten to chapter thirteen in a breeze and he was still invested in the story. There was so much drama going on between the characters and he was blushing—not just from how hot the sex was, but because he was embarrassed that he actually liked the book.

Just as he got to another sex scene he shuddered when he felt a little draught and he jumped when he looked up and saw Y/N standing with the door open. She looked like she’d been caught, she was frozen and blinked at him with confusion and surprise.

Immediately, he closed the book and turned it onto its back to hide the cover, then removed his headphones. She relaxed and smiled softly at him, “I thought you’d be asleep.” She stepped forward, her eyes filled with love as she reached out for his face. He stared up at her with a deep blush on his face, he was anxious to be discovered by her, but he closed his eyes when her fingertips gently brushed across his cheeks.

“Couldn’t sleep without you,” he murmured and opened his eyes, glancing up at her through his thick lashes. Her smile widened slightly and she cupped the side of his jaw, letting him rest his breathtaking face in her soft palm.

“I’m here now,” she whispered. He smiled softly, lifting his hand to hold her wrist and moved it to his mouth so he could kiss her pulse. “Let me get cleaned up, I’ll be right back.” He nodded gently, closing his eyes when she leaned down to kiss his forehead. He leaned into her with a content smile, then offered his lips to her when she pulled away. A single press of her warm mouth on his made his lips tingle, but he let her walk away, and licked his lips as he watched her leave his room. He let himself bask in the aftermath of her tenderness for a few seconds. He just stared at the door she exited from, his eyes drifting away little by little as he bit his lip, deep in thought. Thinking of her—naked, mostly.

Shortly after, he made quick work of hiding his book where it had been and returned his headphones to where they were before as well. He sighed and threw his phone on the wooden bedside table carelessly. He felt a bit of adrenaline at the thought of being discovered and arousal from having been fantasising sexual encounters with Y/N.

Still, he innocently returned to his spot on the bed. He moved beneath the warm sheets of his bed—sitting, and rubbed his eyes when he heard his bedroom door opening again. Y/N was standing there for a while, smiling at the way he rubbed his eyes before she entered. She quietly closed the door behind her and walked towards him, “what were you doing before I interrupted you?”

He stared at the black shirt she wore. It was his Led Zeppelin shirt with a grainy black and white image of a zeppelin and orange coloured words. He smiled at how big it fit her—like a minidress. His adoring, honeydew eyes fell to her bare legs and her blue ankle socks with white clouds, to the grey slippers on her feet.

She climbed onto the bed and he bit his lip, shyly looking at his hands, “listening to music and reading some book about wraiths. It was interesting, so, uh, I couldn’t fall asleep after all,” he lied and she chuckled. She still raised a brow as she inspected his flushed state, and moved the sheets to straddle him, unaware that he was hard. He exhaled shakily when she sat back on his thighs and his hands flexed on her legs as she rested her arms on his shoulders. “How’d it go with Jack and Cas?” He cleared his throat and held her hips, hoping to change the subject even though he only wanted to pull her onto his cock.

“Good,” she murmured, “Jack wanted a burger, milkshake, and some fries.” She smiled down at him, then kissed his lips softly oblivious to the way it only fueled his lust. His eyes fluttered shut and he hummed softly. “Cas was just sitting there all stiff, but he relaxed a little when Jack started to ask questions about how all of the food they served was made.” She cupped his face in both of her hands, feeling his ticklish stubble on her palms and the heat of his blush. “You’re warm, are you okay?”

She sounded concerned and she brushed her lips against his forehead to see if he was sick. He only nodded to reassure her he was fine and captured her lips with his in a needy kiss. He brought her hips forward, finally letting her know what was going on down south. She gasped against his mouth at the friction against her clit and he groaned softly at the sound of it, tightening his grip.

“A book on wraiths made you hard?” She teased breathlessly, her eyes fluttering shut when he kissed the corner of her mouth. Her heart rate picked up with excitement and her skin started to get warm with the rush of blood through her body.

“Shut up,” he murmured, kissing across her jaw, nibbling gently on her jawline. He trailed his opened mouth down her neck, his tongue sliding against her soft skin, tasting her and breathing in the fruity scent mixed with the aroma of flowers in her soft hair. “I was thinking of you,” he told her, his voice deep and husky, it made her pussy quiver.

“What about me?” She whispered, her fingers buried in his short hair. He slowly moved his hands up her back beneath the shirt she wore and brought his mouth up to her lips, but he didn’t kiss her.

“The first time I was inside your tight, hot, wet little cunt,” he growled, taking a moment to see her reaction.

“Dean,” she gasped, her stomach fluttering with excitement. Pleased with her response, he pressed his lips against hers, passionate and thrilled with a newfound confidence. He pulled the shirt up and off her body quickly. Her hands returned to his hair to tug at the short strands, drawing out little grunts from him that went straight to her clit. He didn’t give her much time to catch her breath, instantly returning to her lips once he removed the shirt, not that she needed air as she robbed him of his own oxygen with the depth and passion of her returned kiss.

He gently prodded at the seam of her lips with his tongue and she opened up to him swiftly, a sudden neediness controlling their actions. He could taste chocolate on her tongue when he licked into her mouth, savouring the flavour of the milkshake she must have ordered as his fingers toyed with the hem of her panties. He felt his skin electrify when she moaned at the gentle strokes of his hot tongue.

“I wanna make you come,” he whispered against her lips. He pulled her closer, her breasts squeezed against his broad chest which was covered in a black Henley. The cotton rubbed against her breasts deliciously and made her nipples tighten. He turned her over onto her back with his arms around her waist and he watched her chest rise and fall with each breath she took.

He looked down at her, seeing her shiver now that she wasn’t warmed by his body heat and took a moment to admire as she laid naked beneath him. His eyes drifted away from her pink cheeks to look at her full breasts, down her slightly concaving stomach, and finally her pink underwear. His hands flexed on her thighs, slowly rising to her hip bones where her underwear was resting.

“Take me,” she whispered, reaching over to lift his shirt up off him as well, “however you want,” she told him quietly. He groaned softly at her words, quickly taking his shirt off to do as she clearly wanted him to. She stared up at him with wide eyes that swallowed him whole like beautiful, hungry black holes.

“Whatever you say, angel,” he murmured, looking away from her blushing face fro a few seconds just to remove his boxers. Like him, she’d looked away from his face to watch him strip completely, her little tongue dipping out to moisten her dry lips at the sight of his stiff cock. He looked up at the right moment, caught her quite literally salivating at the sight of his dick leaking at the tip. “Wanna taste?”

That was usually her line, when he’d stare at her glistening folds debating on whether to fuck her already or eat her out. Unlike him, she’d say it bashfully. She’d move his attention away from between her legs because she was just like that sometimes. He adored her to pieces with every fibre in his body.

As she crawled over to him, he sat back on his legs, his hands stretched out behind him as his cock bobbed with excitement. His eyes were on her, right where they belonged, watching her lower herself slightly and very teasingly dipped her tongue into his slit, tonguing away his precum. His breath hitched and his hands fisted the sheets, his hips instinctively moving upwards.

“Yummy,” she said playfully, moving up his body. He stared at her with parted lips, panting as his cock ached for attention, but her hands slid up his thighs and stayed there.

“Please,” he moaned impatiently. She blinked at him once, a little smile on her face making her even more irresistible. She shifted slightly, but his eyes were glued on her as she slowly trailed her fingertips up his cock. She became flustered and averted her gaze to his lips, leaning forward just a bit when he became a little too intense to stare at. Dean felt his lips tingle as they brushed against hers, but he let her have control, let her tease him by refusing to just kiss him senseless.

Her touch was teasing, light and slow as she moved her hand up and down at last. Her thumb swiped over the slit, spreading the warm precum that had started to bead out, her mouth watering at the sight. But instead of continuing to tease him, she moved onto his lap, pulled away from his face to guide his cock to her soaked entrance. And just with the sensation of her warmth around the tip, he whined.

The sound made her insides quiver and she cursed under her breath, a little smirk tugging at her lips. His hands clasped her thighs painfully, the tortuous way she slid down the length of him made him roll his hips up impatiently. The breath she took had caught in her chest at how good it felt to be this close to him once again.

Her lips were on his again, at last, swiftly aiding the passion that made her tummy warm, that made his body burn with so much heat he felt like a sun had started to burn inside of him. He loved it. Being loud on purpose. Losing himself in her completely and giving in, letting her take control and please him the way only she knew how to do.

A loud moan slipped past his lips, into her loving mouth when she sat fully on his lap. The way she tightened around him after each sound spurred him on. His hands moved up her sides, grasping tightly at her hips, hoping to mark her skin as he tugged her forward, fervently giving himself pleasure.

“Just wait,” she murmured against his lips, pulling away to push his shoulders until he was lying down on his back. He whined in response, bratty—cutely refusing to stop. His head tipped back, letting his body relax into the bed while he lifted his hips up, his lips parting to vocalise more of his pleasure. “You’re so fucking pretty,” she chuckled breathlessly, staring down at him—utterly enraptured by his impatience and his determination to make himself feel good.

“Need to cum so ba-Fuck!” He screwed his eyes shut when she lifted herself up and roughly slammed back down. She smiled and laughed, slightly amused and then leaned forward to kiss him, his eyes barely starting to open, only to flutter shut again when he got lost in her kiss.

“You’re so fucking desperate, D,” she teased, her lips brushing against his hairline. A whine from him at her words showed her that he liked it and she moaned in response, continuing to ride him as eagerly as he wanted her to.

His eyes were fixated on hers, heavy with lust, pupils dilated with both love and desire. The way she lifted herself with such agility tore more sounds of pleasure from his throat, deep and rumbling groans that came from within his chest and made her smirk smugly at him. It was so hot, it drew so much arousal from her that lifting herself up and down was embarrassingly smooth, the squelching sound of her pussy being filled by his cock echoed around his room and made his moans get louder.

His grip on her hips tightened, blunt nails digging into her flesh, his back arching from how rough she was fucking him, giving him so much pleasure he thought he’d explode. “Fuck, baby, ‘m so close,” he moaned. His mind was hazy, his skin burning hot and sensitive so that even the way she dug her nails into his chest added to his pleasure. He loved being on the bottom, more than he’d like to admit.

“I could cum just listening to you, Dean,” she panted, leaning over him slightly, one of her hands clutching the pillow his head rested on. She changed the angle of her hips, her clit rubbing against his pelvis, her other hand slid up his chest, wrapping around his throat and squeezing gently.

“Shit,” he gasped, his hips bucking upwards.

“You’re so kinky,” she chuckled, “how about you just cum already, D?” She clenched around him, a gasp slipping past his lips. He shook his head, his teeth digging into his plump bottom lip to hold back another moan, his stomach tightening as he tried holding back his orgasm. “Fine,” she chuckled, grinding down on him to stimulate her clit until he was whining, bringing herself closer to the edge as he squirmed beneath her.

“Oh… fuck,” he moaned loudly, his orgasm washing over him before he could even stop it. An arousing look contorted his face as he came, quick curses and whispers of her name puffing past his parted lips that left his mouth and lips dry, making him look so beautiful.

“That’s right, D,” she chuckled, biting her lip to muffle a moan when she felt the warmth of his cum inside her. She started to lift herself up and down again, hard and fast until she reached her own orgasm, her velvety walls squeezing him tightly, and he took it despite how sensitive he was starting to get.

He let her finish, his fingers bruising the flesh of her hips until she stopped shuddering completely. Her entire body turned to jelly, a little smile growing on her lips, gazing at each other in the slight darkness of his room. Only one lamp allowed him to see the state she was in, flushed and a little sweaty like him.

Her gentle eyes swept over his face, watching neutrally as he sat up tiredly, a languid smile on his face when their breaths became normal again, “I didn’t expect that,” he murmured hoarsely, brushing her hair to the side and kissing her cheek. She relaxed in his arms, placing a little kiss on his lips before resting her cheek on his shoulders.

“Y’know I don’t believe you, right?” She mumbled against his shoulder, smirking when his hands stilled on her back. He recovered quickly, his hands continuing to venture up and down her spine, ignoring the feeling of their cum oozing out of her.

“What do you mean?” he chuckled deeply, “I didn’t plan on us having sex tonight.” He knew he sounded unconvincing, but mostly he knew that she wasn’t talking about that at all.

“What were you reading?” She asked, pulling away to analyse him. He swallowed nervously, licking his dry lips as he thought about what to say, but he still felt dazed from his orgasm that no lie to get himself out of the situation came to his mind to rescue him. “Tell me, if it gets you this worked up, I might have to give it a read,” she teased, lifting herself off him.

“Fuck,” he hissed, smacking her ass when he saw she was purposely lifting herself up slowly. She plopped down next to him, rubbing her thighs together as her pussy continued to throb with. He bit his lip gently and admired her, dragging his hand up her soft and warm thighs to reach between her legs where she was completely soaked. “I’m too embarrassed to tell you,” he chuckled, gently massaging her sensitive clit.

“That’s okay because I already know,” she whispered, moving his hand away from between her legs so she could return to his lap. His lips parted, a look of confusion and embarrassment turned his face red, his lips parting with no words being formed. “I clean your room, D, it’s not just magically without dust all the time.. Plus I’m curious about your porn, okay? Some of those ladies are crazy fine,” she chuckled, kissing him passionately.

He pulled away from the kiss, giving her a dirty look that made her laugh. “I’m going to throw them out if you say that again,” he pouted, his fingers mindlessly caressing her thighs.

“Don’t be jealous of them, you know you're my only girl, Dean,” she teased, burying her fingers into his hair and tugging him forward to give him one of the best kisses of his life. He moaned softly, his hands flexing on her thighs, instinctively bringing her closer so her body was pressed against his. He whined against her mouth, pouting at again. Her teeth dug into his plump lower lip, seductively pulling it before she let it go and smiled down at him.

She snickered when she saw the confused look on his face. “I don’t even know what that means,” he mumbled cutely, tracing a few freckles on her legs. She sighed dramatically and grinned at him, getting up to clean herself with a random hand towel he had in his drawer.

He watched her naked body move itself away from him with another pout on his face, waiting for her to look back at him. She did eventually, smirking and shaking her head. He blushed, becoming a little shy, he turned over onto his side to watch her but also to stop himself from doing things to get her attention.

She turned the water on in the sink and leaned against it to clean herself up, letting him see his work. He held his breath, heat spreading over his face like a fire in the forest, his hands clutching his pillow. His eyes were fixated on her every movement, inspecting the way she spread her folds open to clean herself thoroughly despite the sleepiness that made his eyes heavy.

“Enjoying the show?” She smirked, glancing up at him. His eyes snapped up to her face and he shrugged with a little laugh.

“Always.” She stood normally and walked towards him again, into his soft bed until she was right next to him. The towel was slightly wet, and she folded it to use a clean part on him, carefully taking his soft cock to clean him. He hissed quietly, watching her face at first, and then watching how gentle she was with her hands, reaching down to his balls to clean where their cum and her arousal had dripped down. “Round two?” He whimpered and she smirked, pulling her hands away from his dick.

“As horny as I still am, you need to sleep, baby.” Her shoulders shook with silent laughter and he nodded, a lazy smile growing on his lips. He loved this. She moved out of bed to place the dirty towel somewhere to remind herself to wash it tomorrow, and then to wash her hands before she made her way to his drawers to pick a clean pair of boxers for him and clean panties for herself.

She slipped the Led Zeppelin shirt on again and handed him the Henley he’d been wearing, but he childishly put it on the nightstand, “no, I want easy access in the morning,” he whined, stopping her from taking his boxers to him. She laughed softly, then returned their underwear to the drawer neatly.

“Does that mean I’m the little spoon tonight?” She asked, amused, taking his shirt to fold it neatly and placed it back in place. He nodded, fixing the blanket so she could join him beneath them. “Okay, pretty boy,” she murmured, smiling as she made her way to him beneath the sheets, kissing him softly and mumbling goodnight against his lips before turning around. His arm slung over her waist, a happy smile growing on his lips, snuggling closer to her warm body as he closed his eyes and fell asleep.

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#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester smut #1.2 #dean x reader #dean x you #dean winchester #supernatural smut #supernatural

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yandere-kokeshi · 10 months

Note

Could i please request a Platonic Yandere Peter B. Parker with a reader from a different universe (maybe in their original universe, he's their biodad?)

Warnings: platonic-yandere behavior

A/N: we love Peter b. Parker. Ty for requesting! Hope you enjoy :]

He’s shocked, to say the least. He already has his daughter tangled around him as he works with Miguel and the other Spidermen. Plus, taking care of miles is another job. But when Miguel told him about a new Spider-Person, he was intrigued.

But, when he saw you appear at the quarters all sad and lit up when you saw him, though getting disappointed a second later when you saw him holding Mayday, it shattered his heart. Of course, having spider senses and the ability to be understanding, he approached you; feeling bad about your reaction. Furthermore researching and begging Miguel to see what happened in your universe, it made him sad to see you now-distant.

Regardless of what happened in your universe, he’s now always ‘bothering’ you; acting like the dad he once was in your universe. He’s taking you under his wing as he did with Miles. Whatever happened, he’s hoping he can fix it with you, wanting to get to know you better as you did with him in your universe.

You’re welcome into his home at any time, he always makes sure to make extra plates during breakfast and dinner, even if you said the day before you weren’t coming/or had plans.

Peter constantly asks if you have the designed bracelets to let you travel through universes; making you promise you’ll use them safely and appropriately.

And if you don’t? Well, he won’t be mad. Sure, he’s disappointed. But he’s proud that you did something you are also proud of. He’ll even state that he will take the blame if Miguel shows up at the front door.

The whole family adores you. Mayday loves you just as much as her dad. She loves clinging onto you, planting herself onto your head, and playing with your hair (if you’re fine with it!) and sometimes cries whenever she doesn’t see you. MJ always welcomes you with wide and loving arms whenever you come to visit; hugging you tightly when you come through the portal.

Seeing Peter and Mayday happy to see you warms her heart, which escalates to her opening up to you - treating you like one of her own.

Peter always goes out of his way to get things you enjoy, regardless of your whining of ‘I don’t need more things’. If he sees something in a shop, even in the window, he sprints out with more gifts he was supposed to buy and gives them to you the next time he sees you - making sure to add the Mayday participated in the wrapping paper!

He’s quite a chill parent considering he’s taking care of a baby and a teenager. While he’s gonna be watching out for you, making sure you don’t overdo your strength and aren’t damaging stuff; he would hate to get yelled at Miguel for things that are broken.

Peter always makes sure you feel loved, often giving you hugs and affection that you may feel uncertain about. He always reaches out, asking if he can do anything to help you and that you know he’s here to support you.

Though, Peter is quite a touchy person and if you prefer not to be touched and rather be shown affection through gifts, acts of service, or words, he’s happier to do that as his goal is to make sure you feel comfortable and safe in his presence.

—

Masterlist || Please consider reblogging and commenting instead of liking, it helps me as a creator!! Stay well!!

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stxrvel · 1 year

Text

the outbreak pt. 2

summary: you've kinda been into therapy and turns out it worked?

pairing: bucky barnes x f!reader

words: +4k

warnings: nothing really, i think. this is actually kinda fluffly. i was in a good mood.

note: i didn't planned on publishing the second part so soon, but i had a lot of free time and a mind running wild. still didn't liked that much how this chapter turned out tho. hoping i could make another part to see what happened to my girl wanda! see you guys in the next fic, love yall. the feedback is always appreciated! thank u for reading.

(if a part 3 never appears, just know this is an open ending)

part 1, extra: 1.5

“So, how've you been doing these past few weeks?”

“You don't have to make small talk to me, Natasha. I enjoy the silence.”

“I ask genuinely. I barely even see you in the halls of the Complex. We only really talk on missions and we've had three since that happened.”

“Don't worry about me.”

“I just want to know how you're doing.”

You turned your head to look at the woman sitting next to you. The uncomfortable leather chair you two were in did nothing to appease the constant headache you'd been having these past few days. Natasha watched you with an arched eyebrow and her hands in her lap. You knew she was right, everyone was always right when it came to you. Apparently Bucky was right when he said everyone knew but you, and that spectrum extended to everyone always seemed to know how you were doing if only by the movement of your eyelids.

That's why you had begun to avoid people.

You spent more time in your room and in the Complex gym, doing research assignments for Fury that involved leaving the building, the three missions with Natasha (fully mandatory and against your will) and sometimes in the lab with Bruce when he needed someone to hold his canisters full of chemical liquids.

Fury and Bruce were the only people you tolerated lately. No funny looks, no awkward questions, no innuendo; just what they needed and goodbye.

But, that time, you did have to go out with Natasha. You weren't given the option to come on your own and it was understandable. A little bit. Even though you were trying to make amends for what you had done, not only on the mission a few months ago but also for what you had done to yourself for years, you didn't know that recovery meant you had to have a watcher on you at all times.

And what's worse, that watchman came with a bird.

“I'm fine, Nat,” you replied to her liking finally.

A short laugh from across the room caught your attention.

“Tell that to the tantrum you threw Fury so we wouldn't come with you.”

You gave Clint Barton a hard look, almost lying on the other longer couch as if he were admiring the earth from a cloud. He had one arm over his eyes which he had raised slightly to give you a mocking look, and one leg bent so that his foot was on the couch.

“I didn't throw a tantrum.”

“Fury, please, I know how to take care of myself. I don't need two bodyguards behind me all day. I'm fully capable of getting there and back on my own.”

Clint's poor imitation of your voice caused you an undercurrent of irritation, but you easily made the decision not to let it come out against him. It turns out that sometimes you could just shut up instead of exploding against others, crazy, right?

“First, I don't talk like that.”

“That's right. Lousy imitation, Clint,” Natasha had your back.

“Second, I only asked him once to let me come alone. I didn't beg him like a fool.”

“Sam told me otherwise,” Clint countered and you frowned. You felt the smile on his mouth.

“Sam's an idiot.”

“Sam's on Bucky's side,” Natasha mused.

And then, an awkward silence.

That was something you hated and still couldn't get used to. When people would say Bucky's name around you, the atmosphere would get strangely tense and suddenly everyone would go silent. It felt strange at first, but when Wanda did it you understood what was going on.

“Stop doing that,” you grumbled with a grimace. “I'm not fucking marble. I'm not going to crack from hearing his name.”

“We didn't say anything,” Natasha spoke again, her innocent little dove expression getting on your nerves.

Count to ten, Y/N, don't forget…

“You guys always go silent after you say his name like he's going to spontaneously explode. We're adults, you know? There are things to get over.”

“Wow,” you heard Clint mutter.

“Shut up, bird.”

Clint made a negative, game-like sound when you gave an incorrect answer.

“Three points off. Natasha and Clint are in the lead,” the man snorted as he rose from his position on the couch. You couldn't do more than give him another look, waiting for him to evaporate into thin air.

Natasha stirred next to you looking around at her surroundings, the dark colors of the room almost absorbing all the natural light coming through the few windows that were in the building.

“You haven't talked to him yet?”

“No.”

“Do you plan to?”

“I don't know. Maybe not.”

“Why?” Clint inquired, suddenly more interested in the subject.

“Because I don't feel like I give a s-”

Clint made the sound again.

“Two points off.”

“Clint,” Natasha reproached him with her tone of voice and the aforementioned only flashed her a smile. “It's been several weeks since you were last together. And you've had a lot of improvement-”

“That's debatable.”

“… don't you feel ready to talk to him?” Natasha questioned, completely ignoring Clint's intrusion into the conversation, again.

“I really don't know,” you admitted. “She told me I'm on the right track too, but just the thought of seeing him again after all those things he said… that I said…”

You sighed. Your gaze focused on the dark floor, a bluish-green hidden behind a black carpet with red, the most horrible carpet you had ever seen in your life.

“It scares me. I don't think I can do it.”

The woman let out an affirmative sound from her throat and the room became silent once again.

You almost let your mind begin to wander into memories, conjuring up the times when you felt like you were on top of the world when you were really about to hit rock bottom. But you quickly focused on where you were and what you were going to do there.

You were going to pick up Wanda. You had wanted to do it alone because it had been several weeks since you had last seen her. The last thing you told her was that you were going on another mission with Bucky and that you hoped it wouldn't end as badly as the argument you had that half the building heard. After that, she left.

She had made the decision to come and talk to Stephen Strange and had told you a few days before you left on what would be your last (official) field mission. She left the Complex the day after you left and all you had heard from her since then was that she was fine, that Strange hadn't locked her in a dungeon and that she was learning many things about her magic, especially how to control it to have power in things like her dreams. You still didn't know what those lucid dreams she had been having for a while had been due to, but judging from the letter you had received yesterday where she asked you to go to the Sanctum Sanctorum, it looked like she had gotten some kind of response.

When you told Fury what you were going to do, he didn't hesitate for a second to say that he would ask the Wonder Duo to accompany you. Clearly you balked, not as many times as Sam and Clint implied, but you didn't expose any more complaints to the Director's authoritative voice.

So, there you three were. Waiting for the wizards to appear from somewhere as you waited in one of the most horribly decorated rooms you'd ever seen.

“Sorry for the delay.”

The new male voice that echoed in the room startled you. You cringed and turned your head every which way until you came upon Strange's figure standing at the entrance to the room, not far from where you three were standing. Natasha and Clint remained unperturbed and you suppressed your desire to complain about the intrusion. You were the only one who hadn't heard him coming, apparently.

“Y/N!” you heard Wanda's voice.

You shot up from the uncomfortable couch the moment you saw her emerge from behind Strange's body. Quickly, you met halfway and melted into a big hug. You shifted from side to side trying to keep your strength and tears held back because of how much you had missed her.

“You look great!” was what she said to you the moment you parted.

“Don't lie to her, Wanda,” Clint exclaimed, and shortly you heard Natasha hiss in his direction.

“I've had better days.”

“I can't believe the day is here already! You have to tell me everything. What happened on the mission? What happened with Bucky?”

Again, the unpleasant silence.

“Why are you two making those faces?”

Wanda was watching the Wonder Duo right behind you and you couldn't help but let out a big exhale.

You turned to look at the only person who really gave a damn about your life.

“Thanks for everything, Strange.”

The man nodded in your direction. “It was my pleasure. Hopefully everything will be better from now on.”

Wanda waved goodbye to him as you turned around and pointed the other two people in the room toward the exit.

The other goodbyes were short and you were soon finding yourselves exiting through one of the portals opened by Strange, where you met the entrance to the Complex head on.

“Ah, magic. It makes life so much simpler,” Clint commented before starting to walk in the direction of the common room.

Natasha had the decency to bid you farewell and followed the bird's path at a tight pace.

“I thought they were going to join us,” Wanda mused, watching their figures walk away.

“No, they were just my nannies.”

“Nannies?” you saw her frown.

You watched the grimace on her face and almost have the urge to ask Sam to come give her a rundown of what had happened in the last few weeks since that last mission, but you mentally pulled back and offered a small smile to the confused woman in front of you.

“We have a lot to talk about.”

---

“Have you eaten today?”

The haze that clouded your mind slowly disappeared, your head barely registering the movements your body made to stay conscious. The soles of your shoes were too hard for your liking and you'd had to go sit down while you waited for Wanda to return. You didn't know how long it had been since that, but it seemed to be long enough for Steve Rogers to approach the cafeteria table where you were sitting with a tray containing the day's food.

“You look like you could use some of this.”

The blond gently pushed the tray until it was on your side of the table, and the smell of beef stew didn't take long to reach your lungs. It smelled good, to be honest. You looked down at the food and moved your hands to grab the silverware.

“Thank you.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I'm just waiting for Wanda. She went to talk to Fury.”

“I saw her coming in. She said she had a lot of things to tell.”

“She told me exactly the same thing.”

“And did you get to talk about anything before she left?”

You glanced at the fork in your left hand before looking up and meeting Steve's unconcerned face. You had learned very quickly that it wasn't too hard to get to know the captain in your position as opposed to how unreachable he looked to the rest of the population. He was a rough and tough man, but he would do things like bring lunch to a female shipmate who had a blank stare and sit down and try to chat with her.

He was good. Steve was good.

But he wasn't sneaky.

“If you want to know the verdict, talk to Strange. He's a close friend of Tony's.”

The man only sighed, his shoulders slumping in time with his breathing as if he'd been in alert mode all day.

“I didn't mean to sound so…. opportunistic.”

You rolled your eyes.

“You didn't sound opportunistic, Steve, you're just bad at trying to hide your curiosity,” you expressed with a small smile, but the man didn't look convinced by your words. “She's fine. She looks fine. She sounds fine. Whatever they had done, talked about or practiced, it surely paid off. I don't think you have anything to worry about.”

“She looked really scared before she left. You didn't see her. She asked me several times to communicate with you because she didn't know if it was a good idea to do that anymore.”

“She asked you that?”

“Yes. But the mission was very delicate, we couldn't risk it.”

You nodded in your direction, your gaze wandering back over the food.

“I just want her to be okay,” Steve mumbled and you almost missed the way his face contracted. His blue eyes found yours. “She's been through too much throughout her life and now this. It's like a joke of the universe.”

“She'll be fine. She has us. If she needs strength, she'll have plenty.”

Steve smiled, and then you took your first bite of beef stew.

You grimaced.

The blond frowned.

“Was the smell better than the taste, again?”

You nodded with your mouth full. Your hands went to the glass of water in the corner of the tray and you didn't hesitate to down the meat with all the liquid in it. You were almost never lucky enough to taste good lunches in that cafeteria.

“FRIDAY,” you heard Steve say.

“Yes, Captain.”

“Can you order a 12-inch tuna Subway on whole wheat bread with all the vegetables except the bell peppers and olives, please.”

“Right away, Captain.”

“That wasn't necessary,” you turned to the man as his gaze focused on yours.

“You can't go without eating.”

“I would have been able to place the order.”

“Mmm, really?”

“Of course! Do you think I waste the opportunity to spend Tony's money every chance I get? Even, I would have ordered more.”

“Oh, seriously?” Steve had a mischievous grin on his face and you furrowed your brow at his strange expression. “FRIDAY, make it three.”

You half-opened your lips.

“Sure thing, Captain.”

“Are you out of your mind?”

“What's with the attitude? It's Tony's money, isn't it?”

You hadn't heard that kind of boldness from Steve very often, and when it happened it was a complete event to witness. The man was a stickler, everyone knew him that way. He didn't understand the word rest and most of his free moments were only used to keep reconsidering attack strategies. Steve wasn't one to let loose and go with the flow very often, but when he did it was something to be enjoyed.

“You know he doesn't mind, right?”

And the moment was over.

“No? I thought he still hated me from lying to him about the book.”

“Uhm…” Steve fumbled over his words and you were amused at the way his features scrunched up. “He doesn't hate you. He was just angry. Besides, it's been a long time, he probably doesn't even remember that.”

“I think he's going to remember that until he dies.”

“Steve.”

You froze in place.

Abort mission. Abort mission. 911. Mayday, mayday, mayday.

Steve looked over your shoulder and then back up at you, your eyes on the embroidery of his brown jacket. You tried to keep your expression composed and sent him a smile of assurance that even you couldn't believe. But you couldn't do anything else. You couldn't break down at that moment. Besides, he would most likely ask the blonde to come with him and Steve would go. You wouldn't really have to deal with anything.

“He's really coming,” you heard Steve mutter in your direction.

Your face scrunched up in confusion, and you watched his expression of poorly disguised panic. You had told Steve only once, days ago, that you weren't ready to talk to Bucky at all. And, apparently, he had made it his problem too.

“Are you busy?”

You heard Bucky so close that a shiver ran through your body. It had been weeks since you'd last heard his voice. On that mission.

“No, I was just talking to-”

“Captain.”

But what was this, the all-call-Steve-at-once festival?

You sank back in your seat when you recognized the Director's voice. If he was there, it meant Wanda must be coming with him, and judging by the contractions in Steve's face, going from confused to incredulous to dumbfounded to flushed, your friend was most likely waving him out of there.

“A word, please,” Fury spoke again, and Steve barely let a second pass before he sprung out of his chair like a spring. He gave you a look and you could almost see the apology written in his eyes.

“Buck, I'm sorry- I mean, wait here for me.”

“What?”

“I won't be late, I promise.”

“I can wait for you in the living room…”

“No,” Steve contradicted him sharply. You caught a glimpse of his stiff expression out of the corner of your eye. “Wait for me here, can you?”

You didn't hear an answer, but you guessed it was positive when you saw Steve's face a little more relaxed. He looked back at you and barely gave you a nod before he started walking toward the exit. You turned in your seat to see him, and barely caught a glimpse of Wanda's triumphant face before she hid behind the back of a naive Fury as she saw your gaze on hers.

That woman really had no idea…

The chair Steve was occupying shifted and Bucky appeared in your field of vision. He was looking anywhere in the cafeteria before he was looking at you. And well, that was good, it gave you time to analyze what you had missed in those weeks without any communication.

He clearly looked calmer. Even though you two were forcibly put in an uncomfortable situation, he didn't seem to mind too much. He looked a little tense, you could barely make out a twitch in his jaw, but other than that he was pretty relaxed.

You didn't know how to interpret that.

The last time you had thought about seeing Bucky again (which was that very morning when Natasha brought it up) you thought that one of you would run away without even a second's notice. It seemed that the only one too scared about that reunion was you. Surely Bucky hadn't thought about it for a single moment since the last time you were face to face.

And his hair. He had cut his hair much shorter than last time. Its ends were directed to the ceiling and you could no longer mess it up if you ran your hands through it. It would rearrange itself in seconds. His eyes were still the same, clear and bright as the clear sky, his expression just as stoic and unperturbed, his body leaning slightly to one side with his hands clasped in his lap. Almost everything about him remained the same except for his hair.

And except he couldn't look you in the eye.

You looked down where the tray with the stew was still intact. You didn't have anything else to distract you with so you grabbed a vegetable and popped it in your mouth.

Turning your head away, you missed Bucky's gaze on your face analyzing the grimace of disgust you were trying to hide.

You swallowed hard and grabbed the water bottle so that it almost slipped through your hands. It was empty.

You almost threw up on yourself.

“Are you okay?”

You met his gaze and froze. His wary eyes were on your face.

“Yeah.”

“Doesn't look like that food is good.”

“Because it isn't.”

You shook your head and pushed the tray away from your personal space once and for all.

“Why don't you order something else?”

“Steve already ordered me something.”

“Oh.”

And silence.

You usually enjoyed the quiet moments, when no sound flooded the surroundings other than your own breathing and the ramblings in your head. You could really enjoy your solitude and the quiet it brought with it. But this silence didn't come with solitude, it came with tension, strain, uncertainty.

You didn't know if you felt you should say something or if you felt you should run away. If you stayed you didn't know what to say to him and if you left you didn't know under what excuse.

Bucky's light eyes met yours again after wandering his gaze for a while around the room.

“Wanda's back,” was what he said.

You nodded.

“We came with her this morning.”

“Yes, Steve told me.”

“We don't have to do this, you know.”

His neutral expression turned chaotic for a moment. Then he went back to being unflappable as if nothing.

“We don't have to do what?”

“This. Talk like it's nothing. It's awkward.”

“Ah. You find it awkward?”

You furrowed your brow at his genuine curiosity. For a moment you thought he was being sarcastic, but his eyes detailed your expression intently, waiting for an answer.

“Don't you?”

“Why should I?”

“Can you stop answering with questions, please.”

Bucky averted his gaze. He repeatedly ran his hands over his jeans.

“I'm sorry. If it makes you uncomfortable I'll keep quiet.”

“Still, you don't answer my question.”

“It's not awkward for me,” he finally said, his slightly tilted head pointed in your direction. “It's just normal small talk. Between two people.”

You hummed a nod and your head moved in sync.

“It's easier for you to pretend nothing happened.”

Bucky shook his head, attentive. He narrowed his eyes and it didn't go unnoticed the way you tensed your shoulders as the words left your mouth.

“I never said that.”

“It's just what I can glimpse.”

“What you think you see is not true. I'm not trying to feign insanity.”

“Oh, yeah. I forgot you're an expert at knowing what I think,” the words left you before you could process them and give them the proper filter, and you were sure Bucky had noticed the way your composure wavered for barely a second. If he had, he chose to ignore it.

You saw him twist his lips and lower his gaze, as if he suddenly felt distressed even though he wasn't the one who should be worried about something like that.

“You're angry.”

“And why would I be, according to you?”

“Maybe you were expecting a different reaction from me. You don't like what I'm giving you.”

You let out a laugh. “I never thought arrogant was your type.”

Bucky took in your gesture and mimicked it. Seeing a smile on his face after so long brought back images you thought you had sent far out into the ocean of your mind. Maybe you didn't feel your heart racing as it had so many times before, but you definitely felt something different from the fear and dismay that normally accompanied his memory. Even though you didn't want to accept it, you couldn't help but stretch a little towards that new sensation.

“I was joking. I have no idea why you're mad.”

The small smile on your face disappeared, and you allowed your head to wander down the paths of self-healing and self-improvement. Perhaps it was situations like these that your therapist always referred to. Stealthy confrontations that you usually used to avoid like rain, were the perfect moments to divulge a kind of self-reflection and improvement. To, perhaps, make known the emotions and thoughts you used to suppress and keep to yourself, the reason you had ended up that way to begin with. That was supposed to be what people normally did, to talk about their feelings…

So you just let it out.

“I'm not angry. I think I feel… embarrassed.”

“Embarrassed about what?” Bucky cocked his head to one side, his eyes scrutinizing your face as if trying to figure out if you were being serious or not.

“For confronting you.”

“Me?”

“Yes, Bucky. Here's to having you face me and confirming once again that you were right,” you rolled your eyes and took the moment to look anywhere in the cafeteria but into the blue eyes that wouldn't leave yours. “You were always right, I guess. No one else stood up to me like you did and I still lied to you looking you in the eye, wouldn't you feel the same way?”

The movement he made as he shrugged his shoulders drew your gaze, and met you with such a frightening familiarity that you felt old memories and feelings creeping up from the back of your mind to return to the surface. His calm gaze and tension-free body was what you had always been used to, and at that moment it was what you were seeing.

You didn't know how much you missed him until you saw it again.

“It's possible, yes.”

“The point is, knowing that doesn't make it any less complicated. In fact, it's a little harder to cope with. Being aware of the embarrassment… makes you more embarrassed.”

Bucky let out a short laugh. Your gaze didn't leave the way his corners turned up and then how his shoulders moved and his chest contracted in sync with that laugh. You hadn't noticed until that moment the change in the atmosphere around the two of you, much lighter and cozier, not at all hostile and toxic compared to the last few times you were together after the argument.

Mmm, maybe you were liking all that stuff about therapy. To be honest, up until that point you had discerned very few results, although some were quite important. Like, for example, you were able to keep your mind clear of self-destructive thoughts for longer, or that you could look at your past actions and reflect on them, determining clearly what things you were doing wrong and why it was wrong to do them. And there were many, many of them. Not just with the people around you, but more so with yourself.

However, in that moment, having Bucky in front of you and having been able to not only carry on a conversation for more than a minute with him, but also having been able to admit to him how you had felt and show true regret for what happened, you were able to understand that the change was much bigger than you had initially sized it up to be.

“It's serious. It complicates the process for me. That's why I didn't want to see you.”

He nodded without wiping the smile off his face. You could sense the understanding emanating through his gaze and, by the way he straightened his body, you knew he was going to give voice to the thoughts going through his head. Bucky usually kept his opinion of people to himself, he wasn't one to go around highlighting qualities in others unless he was asked or it was necessary for him to say so. Because of this, you could learn to tell when he was going to keep quiet about it and when he was willing to let it all out.

“Still, if it makes you feel any better, I can see you've come too far. Six months ago you wouldn't have said that to my face. I probably would have heard it from Sam who heard it from Clint when he eavesdropped on some conversation of yours with Wanda.”

You were really glad about what he just said, but…. what the fuck?

“Clint eavesdrops on our conversations?”

Bucky went blank. His features froze and the tension emanating from his body enveloped you both.

“Well… I only heard it once. Clint had said he'd upgraded the device for his hearing and was hearing three times as many things as he should. Among those things, he could hear you talking to Wanda in the next room.”

“I don't believe it.”

“There's nothing to tell you for sure that he did it again.”

“And how long ago was that?”

“Mmm, two years, I think.”

“Did he ever say anything to you?”

Bucky didn't answer for a few seconds, his gaze seemed lost in yours, with a solidity and strength too forceful for your tolerance. You suspected the answer was positive, but received the opposite.

“He only told me what had happened. He never told me if he understood anything he heard.”

“Uhm, you're good at getting out of tight spots.”

He gave you another one of those smiles that felt like home.

“I've had years to practice.”

The silence that followed his words was much more welcoming than before. You seemed to be able to move around the masses of air so freely that all the tension in your body could disappear in a gentle breeze.

“I'm sorry this was uncomfortable for you, but it was good to see you. And hearing you.”

“It wasn't that uncomfortable.”

“You're squeezing your legs under the table.”

You looked down, surprised, though you shouldn't be. Bucky had always been good at reading your body language. It was almost like it was his way of communicating. And yes, you were.

“You rocked from side to side. Your hands never stopped clenching in your lap. You were uncomfortable.”

“Still, I don't regret what I said.”

“I know.”

“Good.”

You had a duel of glances and you longed for that comfort you had been missing for so long. During those almost seven months of barely seeing him and not speaking to him, you had learned to appreciate the little moments in life. And you were surprised to think that before you thought you were living your life as you were doing at that moment, the present, but you were not. You learned the cruel difference between existing and living, and it wasn't hard for you to deduce why you had had such complicated moments in your life some time before.

You had never lived anything. You went through your life as a tourist and many times you weren't even in the picture. You tried so hard and constantly to convince yourself otherwise every day that it ended up tiring you out emotionally, and in the process taking everything out on the one person who tried to reach out to help you.

“Buck!” Steve's exclamation echoed throughout the cafeteria, just on time.

You turned to see him in the doorway, his raised hand gesturing for the man in front of you to follow him. Bucky stood up, but didn't leave before turning a glance at you with a warm smile worthy of summer.

“I hope to keep hearing from you more often.”

“We'll see if you're worth it.”

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