#I can't wait til I can sit and read this!!

[ponderingmoonlight]

would you be able/want to do something with gojo where him and the reader are both teachers and are in an established relationship but the student (aside from megumi) don’t know and start trying to figure out who gojo’s in a relationship with? i feel like gojo would either mess with them or be honest that it’s you but they just don’t believe him cause. yk. it’s you?

Hey, thank you so much for that great request, it was really fun to write! I mixed it up a little with an already existing fic of mine, I hope you don't mind. Let me know what you think <3

Part l to this fic can be found here

Gojo going nuts when his students don't believe him that you are his wife

Pairing: husband!Gojo x fem!reader

Word Count: 1,5k

Synopsis: When Satoru wears his wedding ring for the first time in front of his students, Nobara can't help but wonder who he's married to. But when Gojo confesses it's you, his students just don't believe him.

Warnings: language, sad Gojo lol, this is an absolute comfort fanfic so there you go if that's what you need today, read part l if you haven't yet <3

Tags:  @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld @dazaisdick @hellkaiserinphoenix  @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @mokoartpost @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut  @mynahx3

„Itadori!“ Nobara hisses through gritted teeth.

“Did you just see that?”

“What do you mean?”, Yuji remarks with doe-eyes, gazing up at her with no clue what she’s even talking about.

“That ring on Gojo-sensei’s finger, you idiot”, she barks back at him while frantically running to the door in order to catch one last glimpse at him.

“Is he by any chance married, Fushiguro?”

Megumi signs to himself, staring at Nobara in nothing but annoyance. That talk from last week where she literally forced you to describe Gojo still doesn’t sit right with him. Of course, Megumi knows about your relationship. After all, he’s been with both of you for many years now, witnessed countless times how Gojo caresses your cheek gently in the darkness of privacy, how he calls you “darling” around the house and passes out on the couch next to you 10 minutes into a movie. And even though both of you never talked about this whole marriage being private thing, Megumi simply refuses to talk about your love life – even with his friends.

“I have no idea. But maybe minding your own business will help with your complexion or something”, Megumi bites back.

All of the sudden, Nobara smacks the back of his head hard.

“Hey, that’s pretty mean, you don’t have to be so rough!” Yuji complains in an instant.

“Both of you, shut up. I will just ask him when he returns. Why wouldn’t he tell me?”

“There are actually a lot of reasons not to tell you…”

“SHUT YOUR MOUTH FUSHIGURO!”

“Huh, what’s going on here? I’ve been gone for a minute and you’re already smacking your heads?”

Casually, Satoru sits down behind is desk, long legs stretched out in front of him while nipping at the coffee you just made him. Oh, how much he loves to pay you a small visit during work. Just to be assured that you’re fine, that the second years don’t get on your nerves while training them. He just loves to adore you from afar. Yes, and the minute he gets home, you’re all his and his alone.

“You’re wearing a ring on your finger”, Nobara suddenly blurts out.

Satoru tils his head to the side, gaze wandering over his wedding ring. While he normally never wears it in fear of losing it during some stupid mission, today is your anniversary. The urge to proudly show off his ring became much greater than any anxiety. Also, today is a teaching only day and he’ll return home with you by his side after this lesson is over. The things he has planned for both of you tonight…He smirks to himself, joyful like a child when thinking about the surprise that’s waiting for you at home.

“Gojo-sensei!”

Megumi’s urgent voice rips him out of his daydreams.

“So what? A ring has many meanings”, Satoru replies calmly.

You never talked about this. While you seem to silently agree that showing each other affection at Jujutsu High isn’t what you want and that you are keen to keep your relationship private, you never talked this through. Last week when you described Satoru Gojo so well as your favourite type of men, you never said his name once, probably turned completely red when Yuji mentioned it so casually.

“Yeah, like being married for example!”

“Maybe I am, who knows?”

Satoru intertwines his fingers behind the back of his head, smirking at Nobara who is close to lose her mind widely.

“Maybe you should leave him alone…”, Yuji suggests in hushed tones.

“Maybe you should shut up, Itadori. This is far too important to let it slide!”

“You are way too dramatic about this.”, Megumi comments dryly.

“You guys just don’t understand the magic behind this!”

“So you want to know what this ring means?”

Nobara’s eyes light up in an instant, filled with so much unveiled curiosity that Gojo can’t help but wonder why she is never this invested when it comes to learning.

“Please tell me!”

Let’s see what happens.

“This is my wedding ring. I’m married to (y/n) for three years by now.”

Thick silence, utter speechlessness. The expression on Nobara’s face is so priceless that the urge inside Satoru to take a picture and show it to you later almost becomes unbearable.

“What’s up, Kugisaki? Did you see a ghost?”

“There’s no way in hell this is true”, Nobara mutters into Yuji’s ear, which earns a serious nod from the pink-haired boy.

Wait, what? Satoru furrows his eyebrows while gazing at the girl in front of him in disbelief. What did she just say?

“Why on earth couldn’t this be true, huh?”, he barks at her, hands clenched into fists.

“(y/n) is a real sweetheart with great taste. I just don’t think she would get involved with someone like you. Also, she said that she likes muscular man. And she never wore a ring”, Nobara explains briefly, earning a death stare from Satoru Gojo himself.

Both Yuji and Nobara eye him up and down, critical expression plastered on their faces while whispering unclear things into each other’s ear.

Satoru is on the brick of losing it. Did his students just suggest that you are too good for him? And that he’s not muscular!?

“I am muscular!”, he cries out.

“Megumi-chan, tell them I’m married to (y/n).”

If the ground would be able to swallow Megumi whole, he would take that offer in an instant. They already discussed this stupid matter for over 10 minutes now, when will the lesson finally start?

“Don’t drag me into this. Just do your job”, Megumi mumbles in annoyance.

Of course, Satoru is very aware of the fact that you are striking gorgeous, popular even beyond the boundaries of Jujutsu High. Damn, even here there might be some men who’d want you. But he is the strongest, he is good-looking, he is funny…Why on earth wouldn’t you be married to him?

“See? Nice try Gojo-sensei, but we don’t fall for your shit.”

He can’t believe his ears, face so red that Megumi slides back in his chair just in chase.

“You brats have absolutely no idea what love actually is! I won’t let you tell me who I’m married to or not!”, Satoru spits at his students, catching the attention of you.

Huh, what’s going on inside that classroom? You were on your way to grab some cursed weapons to show Maki, but the way your husband’s furious voice is heard through the entire hall makes you stop in front of his slightly opened door.

“Why are you screaming around here, Sir?”, you question, gazing at Nobara in confusion as she almost breaks down in tears from laughing her ass off.

“(y/n), darling, tell my students that you are my wife!”, Satoru demands.

Is that why he’s so stressed, because he wanted to tell his students that the both of you are married? What is going on here?

“I already told him multiple times we don’t believe him. Last week you said you like muscular man-“

“I AM MUSCULAR!”

You desperately try to hold back a laughter, the stressed out look on your husband’s face being enough to let a little giggle escape your lips. How on earth did that topic even pop up? Your gazer wanders to the wedding ring on his cramped finger, heart filling with warmth in an instant. Oh, he really wears it.

“Maybe he’s wearing that ring only for attention…”, Nobara whispers into Yuji’s ear.

“This is getting ridiculous”, Megumi comments.

“Why don’t we all just calm down a little? Your lesson started 15 minutes ago, why are you still arguing around?”, you playfully throw at your husband.

Despite the fact that you want to throw yourself in his arms right away, you keep your cool composure. This is what he gets for picking on you last week. You’ll make him suffer just the way he did it to you.

“You are supposed to help me with this!”, he complains.

“I am supposed to work right now”, you reply sweetly before turning on your heels and closing the door.

You can’t hold back any longer. Tears start to tickle in your eyes, that priceless look on his face. Oh god, you can’t stop laughing. This evening will definitely be entertaining.

-in the evening-

“Hello, stranger”, you playfully greet your husband as soon as he returns from work, blue orbs almost piercing through you.

“You are supposed to help me! Why didn’t they believe me? I’m I really that much of a downgrade compared to you?”

That little pout forming on his delicate face warms your heart in an instant.

“Maybe it’s better this way. I like to enjoy my time with you in privacy. Nice try though”, you playfully remark, your hands gently running through his soft white hair.

Suddenly he grabs your legs, pulling your body up in the air while all you can to is shriek and laugh out lough. He carries you into the bedroom, letting your body fall onto the soft mattress.

“I will make you pay for not helping me out today you traitor.”

“Then I’m happy to be a traitor.”

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #gojo x reader #jjk gojo #gojo satoru #jujutsu gojo #gojo saturo #gojou satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #satoru x reader #jjk satoru #jujutsu kaisen satoru #satoru fluff #jjk funny #jjk shibuya arc #shibuya #jjk season 2 #jjk anime #jjk fanfic #jjk imagines #gojo x you #gojo jjk #satoru gojo #jujustu kaisen #gojou x reader

[triptuckers]

on the bottom of the lake - percy jackson

Request: yes! "I love ur writing!! could you write something w Percy helping anxious reader?? I’ve been super stressed lately and idk this show is keeping me sane lmao" Pairing:  Percy Jackson x reader Summary:  you've been stressed and percy knows the perfect way to help you relax Warnings:  reader being stressed, some swearing, anxiety Word count:  917 A/N: I drew so many pjo characters yesterday I cant wait to share them when I'm done with them :) thanks for your request, enjoy!

you don't know if you've ever felt like this. sure, you'd been stressed before. but now you're losing sleep over it. and not a few hours, just nights without zero sleep at all.

you've got a big project you need to do for school over the summer. if you call, it'll be your last strike and you'd be expelled. like it was your fault you had trouble reading and concentrating.

when you arrived at camp half-blood at the start of summer, you thought some of your worries would go away.

the opposite happened.

you saw everyone around you having a good time. they didn't have to worry about some project. they slept peacefully from night til morning.

even if you can't work on your project, you're constantly thinking about it. your mind never rests.

percy noticed you've been stressed and tries to talk to you about it, but you always shut him down. it's enough to think about it all the time, let alone talk about it.

after a couple of days, percy tries again. he really wants to help you, but he don't know why.

'hey, y/n?' says percy.

'what's up?' you say, looking up at him. you're supposed to help your cabin prepare for tonight's bonfire, but so far you're not helping much.

'about your project-'

'gods, will you leave it alone, percy!' you burst out. 'I think about that fucking project all day don't you start about it as well!'

percy takes a step back and you realise it's because of you.

'I'm sorry! sorry!' you say, getting up and grabbing one of his hands. 'I'm so sorry I didn't mean it.'

you feel tears slowly starting to fall.

'hey, it's okay.' says percy softly. he reaches up and brushes a tear from your cheek. 'want to go to the lake for a while?'

you nod. percy leads you to the lake. you close your eyes and let the breeze calm you down. but still the project is on your mind. if you go to your cabin now, you could get some work done.

percy tugs on your hand and you open your eyes to look at him.

'get in.' he says, nodding his head toward the lake.

'now?'

percy nods.

'percy, I don't want to go swimming right now.'

'do you trust me?'

'of course.'

'then get in.'

you sigh. what did you have to lose? maybe a swim would be nice.

'let me get my bathing suit.' you say.

'nope.' says percy, pulling you by your hand as he jumps in the lake. before you can stop him, you're pulled forward by his momentum. seconds later, the water surrounds you.

you want to yell at him for getting your clothes soaked, but you remember you're under water. once you get your bearings, you open your eyes, letting them get accustomed to the water.

you try to swim to the surface, but percy still holds on to your hand and pulls you further down, all the way to the bottom of the lake.

good for him, he's a poseidon kid. you aren't. you can't breathe underwater. surely percy knows that right?

he lets go of you hands and swims to the bottom of the lake.

you're going to have to go up for air soon.

you can see percy sitting down on the ocean floor, gesturing at you to join him. you squint your eyes. it looks like the water is less murky down there.

you let yourself sink down to percy's level. the water is less murky here because there is no water here.

'I didn't know you could do this.' you say, looking around the air bubble you're in.

'pretty cool, right?' says percy, smiling proudly.

'why are we here?'

'I mostly come here when I need to be alone. if you sit here in silence for a while, the fish will come up to you. and I always thought the waves are soothing to look at from down here.'

you look up and watch the waves for a while. sunlight pours through the water, giving it a soft glow.

you move closer to percy and rest your head on his shoulder.

the two of you sit there for a while. and percy was right. after some time, fish start to swim around your bubble.

percy tells you about the lake and the animals and after a while even two water nymphs come to say hello. percy knows them and introduces you to them.

you sit there for so long you lose track of time. it's getting late, so you decide to swim up to the surface.

normally you would have been soaked, but thanks to percy you're warm and dry.

you stifle a yawn as percy takes your hand in his and starts walking towards the cabins.

'thank you, that was nice.' you say.

'one of the bonuses of dating a poseidon kid.' says percy, lightly squeezing your hand.

he notices you hadn't talked about your project at all when you were in the lake. and you look genuinely tired. he hopes you can get at least one good nights sleep tonight.

'want to stay at my cabin tonight?' he says.

you smile and nod. 'yeah I'd like that.'

the two of you head to percy's cabin to get some sleep. and percy had been right, you got a good night of uninterrupted sleep. you dreamt of nothing but the comfort of the lake, and percy's presence next to you.

A/N:If you want to request something, make sure to read my house rulesHere’s the list of characters I write for. Everything that I have written can be found on my masterlist. Please don’t repost my work, as I spend much time and effort on it!! Thank you for reading! Much love, Marit

#pjo #percy jackson #Percy Jackson x reader #Percy Jackson fanfiction #Percy Jackson fanfic #Percy Jackson fanfics #Percy Jackson fic #Percy Jackson fics #Percy Jackson oneshot #Percy Jackson oneshots #pjo fanfiction #pjo fanfic #pjo fanfics #pjo fic #pjo fics #pjo oneshot #pjo oneshots

[hoesoflamentation]

𝖏𝖏𝖐 𝖒𝖊𝖓 + 𝖜𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖕𝖊𝖓𝖘 𝖜𝖍𝖊𝖓 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖘𝖎𝖙 𝖎𝖓 𝖍𝖎𝖘 𝖑𝖆𝖕

FEATURING !! gojo satoru, geto suguru, nanami kento, sukuna ryomen

all are f!reader and imply an established relationship with the character named. please read the individual warnings for each character!

𝟏𝟖+ 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 (𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐃𝐍𝐈)

𝖌𝖔𝖏𝖔

WARNINGS !! thigh-riding, sadistic!gojo, teacher!gojo

"What's that, sweetheart? I can't hear you." You groan in frustration as Gojo finally looks up from his paperwork, flashing you a mischievous grin as he takes in the sight of you grinding against his thigh. Your legs feel weak from the effort, your thighs beginning to shake; he relishes in the sadistic satisfaction as pussy juices leak down your leg and onto his pants. "I s-said I'm close, Satoru," you whine, grabbing a fistful of his silver hair to brace yourself as you desperately chase your climax. Gojo chuckles: "Hm, that so?" He leans back and relaxes into his office chair, pretending to be indifferent to the soundtrack of your moans. "Y'know, Y/n," he coos, "I've still got another stack of assignments to grade. Shall we see how many times you can make a mess of yourself 'til I'm done?"

𝖌𝖊𝖙𝖔

WARNINGS !! strong language, face-sitting, oral s3x (f!reader receiving), pussydrunk!geto

Geto runs a loving hand over your hair, trailing down your cheek. "Baby, you're always taking such good care of me..." He slowly extracts you from his lap, standing you over him and parting your legs. "...tonight, let me take care of you." Geto gently lifts the hem of your skirt and sucks on the fleshy meat of your inner thighs until purple marks bloom beneath his lips. Both of his hands firmly grasp your ass cheeks, eagerly pulling you toward his waiting mouth. He slides your panties to one side and envelops your clit in his lips, sucking softly. "A-ah, Suguru, that's-!" you gasp, closing your eyes in relief as his tongue caresses the throbbing button. Your pleasure made evident, Geto emits a primal growl, yanking you down to fully straddle his face. "Fuck, sweetheart," he hums into your pussy, sending sweet vibrations up your spine. "Say my name again."

𝖓𝖆𝖓𝖆𝖒𝖎

WARNINGS !! penetrative s3x, hair-pulling, dom!nanami, daddy k!nk

"You should have known this would happen, sweetheart," Nanami grunts in a warning tone, pounding into your pussy from below. "Strutting in here... looking like that... you should have realized what it would do to me." Nanami ignores your cries of overwhelm as he continues to bounce you up and down on his cock at a relentless pace. His fingertips leave bruises on your inner thighs, a slapping sound reverberating through the apartment for all your neighbors to hear. "Kento, I can't-" you whine, tears streaming down your cheeks. "I'm so close!" Nanami grabs a fistful of your hair, maintaining the same unyielding rhythm. "My sweet babygirl," he murmurs, pressing a kiss against your collarbone. You can tell he's holding back his own moans as your walls begin to clench around him. "That's it, princess," Nanami coaxes. "Cum for daddy."

𝖘𝖚𝖐𝖚𝖓𝖆

WARNINGS !! dubcon, use of 'master,' fingering/edging

"What do you think of my new throne, love?" Sukuna chuckles, pulling you onto his lap. He trails his hand down to the front of your thin nightgown, brushing the rough pads of his fingers against the hard pebbles centering your breasts. Finally, his hand reaches the hem of your nightgown, bunching the breezy fabric in his fist as he slides his hand up your inner thigh. "Are you enjoying the view?" Sukuna's fingertips dance across your folds, trailing slick down your pussy lips. "P-please, Master-" you gasp, anxiously eyeing the guards stationed at his flanks. "Not here." Without ceasing his tantalizing rhythm, Sukuna follows your gaze to his guards and cocks a single, teasing eyebrow. "Why? Is my queen embarrassed? How cute." Sukuna grins slyly, taking the opportunity to finally give you what you want: he circles his smallest finger around your swollen clit. Even this slightest contact leaves you dizzy with lust -- exactly the way Sukuna likes it. "Don't mind them, my love," he hums. "Focus on my touch. Allow Master to take care of you."

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jjk x female reader #jjk smut #jjk drabbles #gojo satoru #gojo smut #gojo x you #gojo x reader #geto suguru #geto smut #geto x you #geto x reader #nanami kento #nanami smut #nanami x reader #nanami x you #sukuna #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna smut #lavender haze🪻

[sadesluvr]

Freak - Mike Schmidt x Reader (Songfic)

Mike dials a 1-800 number and gets more than what he asked for.

A/N: Reader is a secret sex guru, and an unlicensed therapist, 18+ only. I'm going to abuse the FUCK out of this GIF. Based on the song 'Freak' by Doja Cat!

Word count: 2.2K

Tags: SMUT / Sub! Mike, Dom! Reader / Fem!Reader / Handjobs / Edging / Unprotected sex / Creampies / Marijuana usage / Brief mention of contraceptives (the pill)

‘Call 1-800-2323 for the answer to your troubles. Enlightenment is just a phone call away!’

Mike looked down at the card in his hands, given to him by Abby’s wellbeing officer out of concern for his personal troubles. He’d never read too much into spirituality, but considering psychoanalysis hadn’t gotten him much further than his usual dream it couldn’t hurt to try, right?

The dial rang, and he expected to hear a raspy elderly woman with a smoker's cough. What he didn’t expect was a lively, young voice at the other end of the line.

“…How may I be of assistance?”

“Uh — There’s something in my past — It’s been bothering me for practically my whole life…I need help finding the answers…”

“Hm,” the voice hummed. “Vague, but I sense you’re holding back…I like ‘em that way…Name?”

Freak like me You want a good girl that does bad things to you You never been with no one as nasty as me Spice up your life, come get a freak Freak like me

“Mike Schmidt,”

You'd heard of him from your mom’s friend.

“I’ll book you in for Friday at 8PM,”

“Okay…How much will I owe you? Money’s a little tight right now…”

“Don’t worry. It’s all free of charge,”

Tied him down to my queen bed Tease him just enough to hate me  Tied it tight enough, he can't break free  Keep him waiting 'til he try This can go one of two ways We could flip the coin, I'll be your slave  Call you daddy, give me a nickname I ain't afraid of a little pain (No, I ain't 'fraid of a little pain)

He showed up at the address listed on the card a little after 8PM and rang the doorbell, his hands in his pockets as he scanned his surroundings. You, the mysterious voice, answered the door, and you briefly took his breath away, dressed in a nude, flesh coloured spaghetti strap dress that stopped halfway on your thighs, paired with a sultry smile.

“You must be Mike,” you grin. “Come in,”

The interaction is brief, and he follows you to the couch, an armchair sat traditionally opposite like it would in a therapist office. You gesture for him to take a seat and he does, already feeling like he was under a spell. His eyes glance down briefly at your bare legs as you cross one over the other, letting out a soft moan as you got comfortable. Blood was slowly and suddenly draining from his face to his cock, and he moved his hands to cover the issue, which didn’t go unnoticed to you.

“So, Mike…What is it that’s haunting you?”

He wanted some'n else and he wanna be selfish He wanted them three rounds, DC had to come help him Look, I know your position Try to squeeze in the full nelson though Beat on it, beat, beat on it, mercy like a black belt give Daddy the grand master, daddy, I want it faster Them bitches you fuckin' with, I know they gon' need some practice So bring 'em along wit' ya, I'll teach 'em how to smash ya When I made a little mess on it, he told me to clean my act up

He told you everything; from his brother’s abduction to the breakdown of his family and his living situation with his sister. He was a tortured soul, and he just needed a bit of release. You were so, so glad he’d been referred to you.

“I empathise with you, Mike,” you sigh, leaning in. “It must be hard,”

Hard. Painfully hard.

“Do you mind if I sit next to you?” you say coyly, and he shakes his head. You notice he licks his lips as you get up, recognising how the dress is clinging to your body and beginning to bunch up your thighs. For a split second he gets a glimpse of your black lace panties, and his now fully hard cock twitches in his jeans. 

He wants you, and he’s almost certain you want him too, but a deeper part of him wants to let it play out. For once, he’s not in control of all of the decisions and he wants to keep it that way.

“What I’m hearing is that the route of your issue is frustration,” you say, eyes locked on his as you reach out to run your fingers through his messy locks. “When was the last time you ever thought about yourself?”

He shakes his head. “I don’t - I can’t — How is this going to help me find who took Garrett?”

“Because you’re thinking too hard, and it complicates things. It’s time to redirect your attention,” you purr, dragging your vowels so that it produces a tone that sends shivers down his spine. 

“…How?” he chokes, eyes wide and pupils dilated. You’re so fucking close to him now, and he thinks he might burst. You smell like weed and sex, and he can’t stop staring at the way your strap is sliding down your arms.

You slide off your dress in a quick motion, revealing your bare body. Mike is rabid now, unable to stop staring at your hardened nipples and the barely there material of your panties.

Freak like me (Tryna freak you down) You want a good girl that does bad things to you You never been with no one as nasty as me Spice up your life, come get a freak

“I’m gonna touch you, Mike,” you say simply, and it holds a thousand words. “And then you’re gonna fuck me,”

Hey, I could take a big bat, bet that he thinkin' this a game Hey, batter, batter swing, you could put it on a swing Freak like a triple XXX flick, put her on a chain This pussy off the chain, this kitty insane I could fuck him in the rain, I could fuck him in the Range (Uh) I could fuck him every day (Uh), I'ma fuck him 'til he sang (Uh) Milkshake bring the boys to the yard, I'ma need the whipped cream Ain't ever been vanilla, honey, just wait until you get a taste

He knows he can say no, but relaxes into your touch. One hand rubs his upper torso, massaging his tight muscles as the other is wrapped around his neck as you plant gentle kisses along his cheek and neck before you move to his lips. His kiss is eager, and he wastes no time in finding your tongue with his own. 

He needs this so fucking badly, and he doesn’t want to let go.

The kiss continues as you begin to claw at his body, and he briefly pulls away to tug off his jacket and shirt before resuming the make out session. His body tenses as your hands make their way down his chest, down towards the beginning of his happy trail. He desperately wants you to continue the skin-to-skin contact, but you slide your hands over his jeans instead, squeezing him through the material. 

He furrowed his eyebrows and let out a small whimper, earning a gasp from you. He was so pretty.

“That’s it, baby. Don’t hold back…”

Skirt off, fuck in the backseat Take that shirt off, baby, put it on me Got me like, "Yeehaw," ride it like a horsey Kinda like see-saw, up and down on the D, give it to him

You relieve his frustration by hastily pulling at his belt and unbuttoning his jeans, leaving him in his briefs. They were black and you could see a clear wad of precum that had been built up over the past hour. Wasting no time, Mike lets out a louder moan as you slide the material down, his cock springing up onto his pelvis. It’s average sized, but with a slightly thicker girth, and is bright pink with want.

“Kiss me,” you instruct, and he nods. His lips find the crevice of your neck and collarbone as you begin to grip his shaft, his tip between your thumb and index finger as you squeeze out some remaining precum, the liquid pooling around your fingers.

It’s pure pleasure for him as you take the entirety of his cock in your hands, slowly beginning to jerk him off, not forgetting to cup his balls as you do. He throws his head back as his hands clench, physical pressure dissipating as you take his hands in your own, guiding it to your breast.

“Fuck…” Mike groans, beginning to massage the skin as you coo in his ear, your grip tightening and fastening on his cock. Four of his senses are overstimulated, and the icing on the cake is your unrelenting sultry stare, making sure you were attending to his every need.

You were the goddess he never knew he could have.

Freak like me (Need a freak like me) You want a good girl that does bad things to you (You want a good girl) You never been with no one as nasty as me Spice up your life, come get a freak Do, do-do, do-do, do-do (Now you need a freak)

You could feel him shudder underneath you and knew he was loosening up, edging closer to orgasm. His whimpers and groans were now louder, and he’d found the confidence to latch onto your nipples, pawing at the skin with his hand whilst his tongue swirled along the hardened bud.

Spreading your legs over his, you angled his face towards you as, taking in his hazel eyes. 

“Touch me, Mike,” you said, gaze flickering down to your pussy. “Touch me like I’m touching you…”

He moves away from your breasts to make his way between your legs, his fingers sliding into your wet cunt. He lets out a deep sigh at the sensation, feeling rather proud of himself as you begin to writhe against him.

“Is this good?” he asks, sliding a second finger into you. 

“So good,” you moan. “You’re so good for me, Mike,”

His heart and his cock swells, and your bodies begin to move in sync. He quickly finds your clit as your pace quickens on his cock, and you both begin to reach a point of ecstasy.

“Y/N…” he whimpers, lips wet and eyes glassy. “I’m gonna—“

“I know, baby,” you whisper on his lips. “But not yet,” you say abruptly, and draw away. He’s shocked, and stares at you open mouthed.

You respond with nothing but a smile.

“I’m only here to guide you to enlightenment, not give. You have to do the rest,”

He’s totally blank.

“Let go, Mike. I’m here,” you say sweetly, and it feels strangely romantic. “Take me…Do you want me on top, or bottom?”

“Top,” he responds without hesitation. “You’re beautiful,”

Mike can barely contain his euphoria. You, a literal sex goddess, are sat on his lap, body on full display as he fucks up into your tight, wet pussy. The pleasure is almost painful, and he’s almost worried that he’s hurting you by the way his hands are gripped on your hips and his thrusts are desperate and sloppy. All the anger and frustration from his past was slowly unravelling, and judging by the knot in his stomach, so was he.

Freak like me Freak like me (You never, you never, you never been) You want a good girl that does bad things to you You never been with no one as nasty as me Spice up your life, come get a freak (You need a freak) Do, do-do, do-do, do-do (You need a freak) Freak like me (Like me, papa)

“Oh fuck,” you whine. “You’re perfect, Mike. So perfect,”

You weren’t lying, he looked gorgeous; pussy drunk and sweating, his frayed bangs clinging to his forehead in an odd pattern. Your lips met once again as he pulled you into him by your waist, the kiss sloppy as he drew his cock deeper into your cunt, hitting all of the right areas. 

“I’m so close Mike,” you whined. “Cum for me…”

“Where…?” he whispered. He couldn’t decide whether he wanted to see you covered in his cum, or see it seep out of you and down your thighs. 

“Wherever you feel best,” you said devilishly, before placing your lips to his ear. “I’m on the pill,”

The words sent him over the edge as he came, hot and heavy spurts of cum filling into your warmth as you finished along with him. Mike bit his lip as he held you close, almost on the verge of tears as you soothed him through the last of his orgasm. A weight had suddenly been lifted away, and he could feel his eyes grow heavy with tiredness.

After a few moments you pulled away from each other, your nude bodies dropping to either side of the couch. Still high from orgasm, you pulled your dress back on and leant over the armrest to open a drawer, not oblivious to the way Mike was staring at you fondly.

Babe, you never been with no one nastier than me Oh, baby, baby, baby, baby, baby Put your head on my shoulder Hold me in your arms, baby Squeeze me oh so tight Show me that you love me too

“Wanna blaze?” You asked, holding a joint to your lips. He paused in thought, not wanting to let go of the moment before answering.

“Can I use your phone?”

You nodded and gestured to the phone, watching as Mike dialled a number. 

“Hey, Max - Can you put Abby on the phone? Something’s come up and I can’t make it home tonight…”

#florence_nomachine #florence writes!! #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt smut #mike schmidt x reader smut #fnaf smut #songfic

[strlingsav]

hear me out: team 141& female reader go to the bar post successful mission, everyone's a lil too drunk, she makes a move on ghost but he's like "ok uve had too much" (I dnt think he's rly drunk tho) and he brings her back to his room to take care of her, but hes like wait "I've always wanted you" THEN THE HOT AND STEAMY STUFF *ofc it's all consensual*

Ohhhhhhh yes, right up my alley 👀

Always

– Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader

— Your Lieutenant confesses his feelings.

Explicit sexual content under the cut. Read at your own risk.

It wasn't your idea to go out; it was never anyone but Soap that always suggested a pint at the bar around the corner. A run-down dive bar across the street from the base, where every soldier knew it was the best place for cheap drinks and entertainment.

It was the kind of place that belonged to the coarse, gruff men that chain-smoked and didn't want to go home sober. The kind that kept their eyes on you as you wandered in, before turning their interest back to the beer in front of them.

You shared a table with the squad. You were a bit hesitant to join them after hearing the stories Soap told about the place. The time he nearly had a dart thrown in his chest during a drunken game, or when he'd lost a lot of money during a pool match. Nonetheless, you'd been convinced, citing something like, "one time can't hurt".

It was filled with cigarette smoke, classic-rock, and the heavy smell of beer. Price lit up a cigar, puffing on it from the far end of the table. He seemed to enjoy the music and beer, not paying much attention to the ongoing conversation between you. Gaz and Soap had been ragging on each other, Ghost joining in when he felt it necessary.

Soap was already a few drinks in, pressuring you to keep up with him. You could, and did, though you knew you'd have to walk back afterward and thoroughly regretted the three you'd already had.

Ghost sat beside you, a hand around his glass of bourbon, quietly surveying the conversation, chiming in with a scoff or witty comment about Soap's intelligence every so often.

"You are not a Scotsman," You shook your head, watching the drunken man nod his head along to the guitar and drums from the speakers.

"Piss off," He sneered. "What are you on about?"

"You can't hold your liquor," You said back, leaning forward with a smug grin.

"And you can? I'm drinkin' you under the table."

"We're even," You rolled your eyes, sitting back. "'Sides, I'm savouring it."

"Shite's gettin' warm in your hand!" He exclaimed.

You narrowed your eyes, shooting the last of your beer back.

"Let's do a few shots, then. And grab me another beer."

His eyes lit up, a smirk on his face. "Now you're talkin' kid." He shuffled out of his seat, stumbling every so slightly as he headed toward the bar.

"He won't stop 'til he's ahead of ya," Ghost said, leaning into your ear.

You shivered. The timbre of his voice in your ear brought goosebumps to the surface of your skin. Looking over at him, you furrowed your brows, inspecting his eyes. Dark and void, no flecks of any other colour to be seen. They were deep and mesmerizing, a black hole ready to suck you in. You noticed you'd been staring longer than normal, pursing your lips before shifting your gaze.

"I know," You were distracted now with the image of Soap, carrying four shot glasses filled with a mysterious liquid. "It's fun to see him try though."

"More entertainin' watchin' him act like a git."

You grinned.

Price then announced he was heading out, mumbling, "I ain't in the mood for watchin' you drunks all night."

You'd bid him good night, but not before trying to convince him to stay. He'd resigned himself to a night in, drinking his expensive liquor, puffing his cigar in the privacy of his own office. He left with a short goodbye, warning the rest of you not to get out of control.

Soap set the shots down, handing you yours with a polite smile.

"Think we should cheers," He said, sitting down. His speech was now obviously slurring. "To another fuckin' mission finished, and to gettin' back home, away from you fuckers."

You shrugged, colliding your glass with his, before tipping it back and letting it slide down your throat. You shut your eyes, swallowing harshly, nearly choking on the burn in your chest.

"Jesus," You were hoarse, a strangled sound leaving your lips. You recognized the flavour of the drink- vodka. "Nasty."

You sat back, your eyes scanning the bar. It was getting harder to see straight- ghost trails and lazy blinks disrupting your vision. A deep breath in did nothing to clear your head, but damn did it feel good.

"Here," He handed you the second.

You hadn't quite recovered from the first, still feeling it sitting in your throat. Your ribs shifted with a heavy inhale, desperately trying to swallow the liquid fire. Your eyes landed on Soap, an amused grin across his face, though you'd already gulped down the shot before he could say anything.

He chased his shot with the beer in front of him, a grimace across his face- the same as yours. It hit you within a few minutes, only exacerbating the way everything seemed to blur together.

It felt great. Fucking great, to drink, relax, unwind. Have fun, for the first time in months. Dress in something other than fatigues and twenty pounds of equipment. To shower and brush your teeth with running water. You'd finally de-tangled your hair, appreciated the sweet smell of deodorant, worn makeup. You were reminded of it by Gaz, when he commented that your face looked "different" from the usual.

Your head turned, catching Ghost's eyes on the way by, and you smiled softly. It was unintentional, nearly uncontrollable at this point in the evening. He averted his gaze.

You'd always thought highly of him, respected him. You had to. But the causal dress brought out a different side of him, a side that had a sense of humour and didn't mind listening to the back and forth between yourself and Soap. A side you wouldn't mind seeing more often. He wasn't just your Lieutenant now, and your drunken self had taken note of that.

You squinted, trying to imagine the face beneath the mask. His eyes were alluring on their own, and your cheeks flushed at the thought of just how handsome he probably was.

You'd let your guard down, after so long of denying the fact that you were attracted to him, you'd admitted it to yourself. You knew you were digging yourself into a hole, unsure how you'd function while working with him, how you'd ever leave the attraction behind and behave in a strictly professional manner.

It was more difficult to think about drunk than it was while sober. While sober, you could pretend his voice didn't awaken a thrumming in your chest, or that you definitely didn't like the way his fatigues fit his body. But drunk- it was a different story. You'd had your eyes all over him, uncaring and indifferent to whether he noticed or not.

It came with urgency, a giggle bubbling up before you could stop it. It was just another urge you couldn't quite hold in. You'd been studying him, and only when he turned to you, did you realize it. You'd been caught.

"What's funny?" He asked, raising a brow.

You waved your hand, trying to dismiss his question, nearly knocking your empty beer bottle off the table. You caught it with a clumsy hand, pushing it out of reach and clutching your full drink to your chest.

"Lightweight," Soap announced, the usual shit-eating grin on his face.

"Fuck off, Johnny."

"You're a mean drunk, kid."

"I'm not drunk." You noticed that your own speech was slurring now. Your mouth particularly difficult to control, short bursts of giggles exploding without warning. "Okay," You nodded slowly. "Just a bit."

Soap laughed, a loud, boisterous laugh that made you wince. He'd also indulged a bit too much, his cockiness making an unexpected appearance.

"Let's win us a game of pool," Soap said, turning to Gaz.

"I'm not giving you any money," Gaz answered, following close behind as the two made their way to the tables.

You sighed heavily, relishing in the feeling of not being in control. Letting go, falling into the drunken stupor you'd gotten yourself into. It was cathartic. Especially after a gruelling mission.

You turned your attention to Ghost, your head tilting up to look at him.

"Just you and me, Loot," You pursed your lips. "Tell me your war stories."

"Don't have any interesting enough." He took another sip, his lips wet with liquor. You could hardly tear your eyes away.

"Bullshit," You grinned.

He shrugged it off, licking the leftover liquid from his mouth. You'd see his lips before, seen the stubble that lined his chin. You knew he was handsome.

"You should take off the mask," You said, still very intrigued.

"Why's that?" He asked, his gaze flickering between your lips and eyes.

"You're handsome. Not sure why you hide it," You popped a cashew in your mouth from the communal bowl on the table.

"I know. That ain't why I wear it," He said. His eyes fell to the cashews in your hand. "Shouldn't eat those."

You stopped your chewing, furrowing your brows as you set the remaining cashews back in the bowl. He was right; by the looks of it they were old- you hadn't noticed with the blurry haze of liquor distorting your vision.

"Always looking out," You grinned sheepishly. "It's alright to take a night off."

"Not when you're pissed," He commented.

You scowled, "I'm not pissed- I'm tipsy. At the most, a bit drunk." Your tone was harsher than intended.

"You're pissed," He nodded.

"You're deflecting. We were talking about how handsome you are."

"No we weren't," He said, swallowing another gulp.

"Okay," You sighed. Admittedly, it was taking a lot of brain power to follow the conversation. "I was talking about it."

He nodded. "You usually so irritatin' when you're in the bag?"

"Are you usually such a prude?" You snapped.

He shook his head, hiding the grin on his lips with a sip from his glass. You were far too drunk to notice. You wondered if maybe you were a mean drunk, suddenly feeling irrationally guilty for talking to your lieutenant that way.

"I'm sorry," You sighed, desperately wanting to lay your head down on the table, bury your face in your arms and hide your embarrassment.

"It's nothin'." He looked amused.

"I'm sure you're not a prude," You said, eyes wide with concern.

"Far from it."

You raised your brows, suddenly intrigued. Sitting up straight, you shifted to face him entirely.

"I've never seen that side of you."

"No reason to."

"I mean," You swallowed the cold beer, setting it down before staring up at him with narrowed eyes. "I could give you a reason."

Your focus was unrelenting as you scanned his face, searching for any hint of an interested expression. He was unreadable- likely due to the liquor in your bloodstream- and it frustrated you. Now, deeply under the influence, you were irritated and aroused.

"Don't think you know what you're sayin'," His eyebrows dipped in, an unimpressed expression in his eyes.

He'd never seen you in your civilian clothes, or with lipstick on. His mouth had gone dry when he first saw you walk into the bar, not surprising given the tightness in his chest anytime you'd brush past him, compliment him, even say his name. It was unavoidable, especially now, watching you lean in, your inhibitions lowered.

He felt his blood run cold, warmth settling in his groin when your eyes lazily flipped over to look at him, your hand under your chin. You had a coy smile on your face, like you didn't know exactly what you did to him, and he'd be a damn liar if he didn't admit it turned him on even more.

"I know exactly what I'm saying." Your eyes narrowed at him, a short huff of amusement leaving your nose.

He wanted to believe it was true; he'd been around enough drunken soldiers to know that whatever was said usually had some truth to it. He just couldn't imagine a woman like yourself wanting to be attached to a person like him. You were too good; too righteous. Too loyal, trusting. Sometimes it drove him crazy, other times he cherished how much faith you put in him.

"Think you've had enough for the night."

He finished his drink, setting it down. He licked his lips.

"Maybe," You nodded.

Your head was fuzzy, and it was hard to see straight. Reasonably, you knew it was time to call it. You'd pay for it in the morning if you didn't.

"C'mon," He said, nodding his head, urging you to step out of the booth. "We'll head back to base."

You didn't fight him. Your hand reached the table for support as you stood up, missing the empty beer bottle by an inch. Ghost grabbed your arm, an innocent touch that your drunken state turned into something more; a premonition.

You turned back to look at him, a coy smile- even drunk, you were a bit embarrassed to be so clumsy in front of your Lieutenant.

Your arm wrapped around Ghost's as you headed out of the bar, discretely feeling the hard bicep that was hidden beneath the black jacket he was wearing. You squeezed gently, hoping he wouldn't feel your groping. He knew, he could feel your fingers moving, the heat of your palm over his arm. He couldn't help but look over at you, an expression of bliss on your face, eyes half shut.

You made small talk, the night air sobering you up a bit as you wandered across the street. The flickering streetlights made him look even more intimidating than usual, casting a shadow over his eyes, his tall form towering over you. You were aware now of just how close you were to him; you were surprised he'd let you hold his arm, but glad he did. You were somewhat afraid you'd wander off and end up sleeping in a ditch, but mostly you liked how warm he was, how good he felt under your hand.

You knew when he walked you inside that it wasn't the direction of your bunk.

"I'm over there," You pointed.

"You're stayin' with me," He said resolutely. "Can't have you chokin' on your own vomit."

You frowned, "Fair point."

As he let you into his quarters, you were overwhelmed with just how much it smelled like him. A bit of vanilla, cedar, cigarettes. It was almost suffocating, seeping into your senses until you were filled only by him. It was intimate, breathing the same air he lived in. He'd allowed you inside, allowed you to see his most personal space. You took a deep breath at the overwhelming revelation.

Your eyes scanned the room, cataloguing the belongings inside. There weren't many personal items; no photographs or books. Hardly any evidence that he lived there. It was barren, aside from the furniture. You knew him, knew he didn't live like you did. He didn't have family back home that waited for him with loving arms and smiles. He had no reason to frame photos of the people he had loved before.

You stood in the centre of the room, still taking in the environment, sobering up even more when he appeared with a T-shirt and water bottle in hand.

"Here," He said, holding them out to you.

"Is that yours?" You asked, looking over the T-shirt.

He nodded.

You were flustered now, the drunkenness having mostly worn off, your demeanour did a one-eighty once you realized where you'd ended up. Your Lieutenant's room, alone. It was the perfect opportunity to take advantage of, to confess to every single thing you'd ever thought about him. But you couldn't blame it on being drunk anymore, not when you could feel the embarrassment of what you'd said earlier, and mostly regretted it.

"Thank you."

"Y'can change in there," He nodded his head in the direction of the bathroom.

You did, discarding your jacket, shirt and pants. You slid the shirt over your head. It reached the middle of your thighs, a comical look that made you smile at yourself in the mirror. You chugged the water bottle and pulled your hair from your face before leaving the bathroom.

His eyes landed on you, his heart picking in his chest up when he saw you wearing nothing but his shirt. Relaxed, like you were home. It was undeniably arousing. Like you were branded, marked by him. He tried to ignore it, ignore the way your bare feet across his floor sounded so comforting, the way you so willingly wore his clothes, thought nothing of wearing your damn panties around him. He felt something primal clawing at his chest, scratching its way up his throat.

"How you feelin'?" He asked, settling for a nonchalant question, something innocent so you wouldn't suspect he was practically trembling with desire, to touch you- taste you. He took a seat in the chair across the room.

You stepped over to the bed, sitting down on the edge.

"Mostly sober," You breathed out, a small smile on your face. "Sorry, if I said anything out of line."

He nodded; no answer, a nerve-racking response on its own, but his eyes avoided yours. You pushed past the topic, not wanting to dwell on the actions of your drunken self.

"I can sleep on the floor, if you have an extra blanket?" You offered.

He shook his head, "Take the bed. Don't sleep much anyways."

"Why not?" You asked.

"Never have. Too much goin' on in my head."

"Stop thinking for once," You teased.

He inhaled, still slightly distracted by the sight of you, your bare thighs, the shirt inching up as you moved up the bed.

"If only," He replied.

"What keeps you up at night, L.T.?" You asked, a grin of amusement on your face.

You, he wanted to say. You, and your fucking smile. The cadence of your voice, the feeling in his gut he got whenever he felt you next to him, watched you when you weren't looking.

"Paperwork," He teased- though his face showed no evidence of a joke.

You were quiet for a minute, shifting your gaze around the room before returning to his eyes. You smiled, changing the topic again when you concluded he really didn't want to talk about it.

"Thanks for taking care of me tonight."

"You're my responsibility."

Your heart sunk to the pit of your stomach; had he felt responsible for you? Had he only let you cling to him out of obligation? Given you his shirt because it was his duty?

"Oh," You nodded. Your voice was weak, but you tried to hide your disappointment behind a small smile. "Always watching out."

"For you, yeah."

Your gaze narrowed. You wondered if you were still drunk, reading too much into his words, putting meaning where there was none. He sat forward in his seat, attentive, unwavering.

You tilted your head, hoping it would give you an alternative angle to follow, a new lead into the words he'd said. With no success, you leaned back on your hands, ready to interrogate him.

"You don't have to do that," You said, prodding for more. Something substantial, something tangible to sink your teeth into. Some ground to stand on so you could tell how he really felt. "Watch out for me all the time. Especially off duty."

"Can't help it," He said. It was quiet, almost unnoticeable except you'd seen his shoulders tense.

"Why?"

He stood to his feet, and your stomach lurched. He was slow, calculating in his steps, moving closer by the second.

"Think you know."

He stopped before you, his gaze so impenetrable you almost couldn't meet his eyes. His fingers reached up, his knuckles skimming the soft surface of your cheek. You shut your eyes, an inadvertent reaction to the rough feel of his fingers. Your skin was flushed, reddened with the rush of blood your heart was pushing to every nerve.

"Because I'm a liability?" You teased, desperately wanting to ease the tension, to appear unaffected by his words, even though your arms had weakened, every bone turning to liquid inside you. You struggled to keep his gaze, to hold yourself up when he was so domineering, standing tall above you.

His eyes honed in on your lips, giving a small shake of his head. "'Cause I've always wanted you."

You inhaled deeply. It stunned you, to say the least. You'd never seen any hint of attraction from him. He was stoic and unreadable, always. But now, he bore his soul to you. Extending an offer that you were too weak to decline. The room stood still, soft exhales and invisible strain sitting in the air.

You finally met his gaze, cheeks tinged red, an exhale of relief. It was a weight off your shoulders, not having to hide anymore. Knowing he felt exactly the same.

"You've always had me, Lieutenant." You stood to your feet, your head barely meeting his shoulder, but you felt powerful, invigorated with a rush of desire.

He hummed, short, acknowledging, satisfied.

His hand moved from the apple of your cheek to the curve of your waist. His hold was strong and warm, comforting, in a way that made you shiver. A twitch in your body made him chuckle, a deep and inviting sound, that offered no relief of the chill running through your spine.

You couldn't count how many times you'd wished he'd touch you. Intentionally or not, you didn't care, you craved it. You craved the sensation, the heavy pour of molten heat that settled in every bone. The ache between your thighs, never satiated by your own hands, leaving your body to the mercy of your mind, begging and pleading for relief by some measure.

"You still drunk?" He asked, quiet and low.

You shook your head, eyes piercing his gaze with ferocity, a never ending commitment. You couldn't be drunk; not with how obvious it was that his hand was on your waist, clinging to you tightly like he'd lose you if he didn't. Your senses were sharper than they'd ever been, especially with him standing before you.

He pulled the fabric of his mask over his head, freeing his face before you. It was a sight to behold, a moment you wanted to seal in your mind and look back on for years to come. You couldn't help your teeth chewing at your lip, biting back the urge to stand on your toes and kiss him, kiss the lips you'd seen a handful of times but never complemented by his other features. He was handsome. Even more than you'd imagined; a composite of Adonis, embodiment of Ares.

He did your bidding for you, leaning over your shorter frame to bring his lips closer to yours. He waited a moment, wanting to be sure you knew exactly what he intended, what he wanted. You grew tired of the torment, and met him halfway.

He groaned; low and harsh. He absolved you of any responsibility, taking over as he tugged you into his chest. He was a towering figure above you, your neck aching as you reached up to meet his mouth. Your hands lifted to his waist, a gentle hold, still apprehensive. You'd never touched him before, never been able to glide your hands across his sides and envelop him in your arms. It felt right.

In response, his palm reached your cheek, fingers splaying out over your jaw. It was a bit rougher, more motivated. He slipped his tongue in your mouth at the same time, his heavy exhales fanning across your face. He was warm, feverish against you, his body entirely consumed with greed.

He tasted sweet, like caramel and the bitter aftertaste of alcohol still on his tongue. You hummed softly against his mouth, relishing in the moment; your bodies pressed together, lips connected fervidly, hands exploring the expanse of his torso. Your fingers slid down his abdomen, and he pulled back, still holding onto you.

"Y'look good in my shirt."

A slow, smug smile spread over your lips. "Shame you'll have to take it off me," You whispered.

You stood on your toes, pressing your lips to his again. It was an addictive rush, every time you felt the way he pulled you in, the softness in his lips.

He wrapped an arm around your waist, slowly crawling over you to pin you beneath him on the bed, pure desire between your thighs, flames flickering inside you when his gaze lowered.

You pulled the jacket off his shoulders, hands lifting his T-shirt over his head. Your eyes dropped to his stomach, breathing in the muscles lining his navel, the trail of coarse hair disappearing under his jeans, the marks and scars across his entire torso. Your hands inadvertently reached out, tracing every line and contour, his head falling down at your gentle touch.

You pulled his belt open, before he took his time lifting his T-shirt up off your body, watching with uninterrupted focus, taking in every bare inch he could see until you were left nude before him.

"Fuckin' beautiful," He whispered, his lips beside your ear, moving to leave soft kisses against your neck.

Your jugular pounded in your throat, his silken tongue finding your pulse and biting down softly. You whimpered, pulling yourself closer to him as he scattered kisses over your neck and chest. His hands engulfed your breasts, warmth erupting over your body when he left wet kisses over your nipples, a flat tongue following.

"Yes, please," You exhaled, your back arching into him.

He laid down beside you, a smooth transition when your hand on his chest pushed him back against the pillows. You climbed over his lap while he gripped your hips, staring up at you as you rocked over the bulge in his jeans.

He grunted, quickly yanking his waistband and briefs down. His cock lifted from the restraints, painfully erect, the size a bit intimidating but you'd never given up from a challenge. You leaned forward, sliding your panties aside, helping him to press the tip of his cock against your entrance, before you sat back down.

His cock slowly inched inside, an uncomfortable stretch, but you were already so aroused it quickly dissipated when your hips moved forward. He stretched his neck back, pressing into the pillows; your pussy was drenched, with soft, velvet walls that squeezed around him. He gritted his teeth.

"So big, Lieutenant," You exhaled, a guttural sound as you appreciated just how much he filled you.

"No Lieutenant shite," He groaned. "Simon-" He gulped. "Say my name, love."

You leaned over him, resting your hands against the pillows while his hands slid up to your waist. You craned your neck down to press your lips against his, your pussy gliding up and down his cock while his hands guided you.

It was a haze-inducing sight; your lips wide with pleasure, panting softly every time his cock would massage your walls, graze your clit.

"You feel good, sweetheart," He grumbled against your neck. "Fuckin' hell- that's good."

"Yes- fuck," You watched his eyes, the way he'd furrow his brows in an attempt to digest just how good you felt wrapped around him.

His free hand massaged your breasts, grabbing and palming the soft tissue as you thrust your hips against his.

"God, Simon."

"Been waitin' to hear you say my name like that," He said.

You shivered on his cock, your pussy clenching down with appreciation for his words.

You moved forward, your hips working to grind against him, to push his cock inside you, falling back with heavy exhales.

He couldn't handle the slow pace, couldn't handle the restriction- how he couldn't bury himself inside you. He flipped your bodies over, realigning himself with your pussy before diving back inside.

You groaned, clinging to his shoulders, your thighs immediately wrapping around his waist, trembling.

"Lie back," He grunted, his hips rolling against yours. "Lie back and let me take care of you, love."

Your lips parted, a satisfied moan escaping. Your hands reached his hair, fingers digging into his scalp as he thrust his cock inside you, the sounds of your well-lubricated pussy echoing around the room.

He muffled your moans with his lips, panting heavily after pulling away.

"So deep," You mumbled, "Fuck you're so deep, just like that, please."

"Like hearin' you beg, sweetheart," Another grunt.

His fingers reached down to your clit, rubbing side to side in a way that made your abdomen tense. He felt the clench of your pussy around him, letting out a low gasp against your skin.

"Christ, I dreamt about fuckin' you. Havin' you just like this."

"Simon," You whispered.

His hand gripped your thigh, angling it to penetrate deeper inside you.

"Who's this cunt belong to?" Sweat lined his brow, his fingers still moving in circles on your clit.

"Fuck," You squeezed your eyes shut, savouring just how fucking good it felt, the stimulation was enough to have you writhing beneath him, your body begging for an orgasm. "You, shit- 's all yours."

"That's my girl," He grumbled, plunging his cock inside you with even more speed now, triggering waves of pleasure that engulfed your entire body, had you moaning so loudly he covered your mouth with his hand.

"Fuck," He swore, listening to the muffled sounds of pleasure escaping your mouth. "Fuckin' hell. Let it out. I've got you."

You whimpered and whined, his cock driving into you, extending your orgasm. Your eyes rolled back, nostrils flaring as you tried to catch your breath, your thighs and fingers squeezing relentlessly against him.

He had a difficult time holding back; he so badly wanted to hear every single moan and cry that left your lips, but knew the walls were thin. He wouldn't live with himself if anyone found out, if you'd take the brunt of the relentless torment that would surely follow.

He removed his hand when he was sure you'd recovered, so close to his own release he almost didn't have time to tell you. You could read his face, see the expression of pain and pleasure.

"Wherever," You breathed. "Wherever you want."

Your words pushed him past the edge, and his hips stuttered, pressing flush against yours as he released inside you, his cock twitching with every burst.

He sucked in a harsh breath, head tilting up to stare at the ceiling. He thrusted lazily a few more times, before gently falling next to you. A few moments passed, deep breaths and contentment in the air.

"What's in your head now?" You asked, turning on your side.

He nearly smiled, "All clear, sweetheart."

#cod mw2 #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost smut #simon riley smut #cod mwii #mwii #simon riley #strlingsavwrites #ask strlingsav

[bloodykora]

Thonking hard about Buggy and long haired Buggy especially. Like I don’t mind the stylistic choice in the LA but maaaaan, maaaaaaaan. There’s the obvious stuff like playing with his long hair and braiding it but my mind keeps going back to Head!Buggy and you and it’s just a bit of time to kill before you get anywhere and you were honestly just supposed to watch him so he doesn’t get snatched up by a seagull and something and you both agree this doesn’t mean ANYTHING (he’s gonna develop a soft spot for you and ONLY you out of all the straw hats immediatly), but it’s so damn boring out here and you have some hairties you found somewhere and just… You using Buggy’s head like a hairstyling toy and just braiding it for him or putting it into little buns, clipping it out of his face so it doesn’t get into his eyes etc.

Sanji passes you once and is about to say something but Buggy just gives him a glare that’s all „Got something funny to say punk?“ and he just shakes his head and moves on.

(You forget one tie in there before he reuinites with his body. A simple little thing with two skull beads. He initially keeps it because he actually feels it suites his style but he developes a fondness for this little thing in particular that he doesn’t allow himself to think about for to long)

This is so much longer then I thought it would be so I'm putting it under read more but like yes.

- No cause I absolutely agree, love his long gorgeous hair. I like to think his hair isn’t thin either, its a good mix of thickness but not to the point of curly. He’s got the nice ‘wave’ going. Did you know that in his hat, there are small braids in the hair coming out of it in the LA.

- It didn’t take long for Buggy to start complaining about the heat and it didn’t take you long to get fed up with his complaints

- You kept looking at how his blue hair kept draping over the side of the barrel he was on, and how his bandana has not moved a inch since he was taken out of the bag on the ship

- "Let me do your hair." "No." "Let’s continue then to sit in almost complete silence, would you like to play cards? Oh, wait. You have no hands. What about I Spy? I spy something blue."

- Just making fun of the his situation until he caves in to let you, he says to stop your whining but in reality he could really use the scalp massage

- Putting a crate behind the barrel or something so you can sit and do it. It’s softer than you had thought it would be, and you could see small braids near his bottom layers.

- "Did you do these?" "Huh? I can’t really see the back of my head, you gotta be more descriptive." Holding one of them out for him to see. "Oh yeah, adds a nice touch to the hat when I’m performing!"

- The shed though, his hair would shed so much. You’d be pulling blue hair strands out of your clothes for the rest of time. And they’d get everywhere on the ship too.

- You could hear him sigh in relief when you first start brushing through it, and you felt relieved knowing those knots have been eradicated.

- First thing you do is just a little bun so his neck could get some fresh air for once and then it evolves into the craziness.

- Buns, pigtails, high and low ponys, 1 braid, 2 braids, fishtails, french, dutch, braiding 2 pieces and then wrapping it around his forehead like a crown. Favourite would be doing 2 french braids at the top of his head til it's the bottom and then putting the hair tie there so it becomes a fancy low pigtail.

- "I can't believe how pretty you are with your hair, not very fair to the rest of us good sir." You joke out, meaning it though. "I've always been pretty!" You snort at his reply not knowing how warm his face had started feeling.

- Every pirate has a niche collection, yours? Your hair pin collection. To die for. You have been collecting hair clips and such for this exact occasion. Butterflies, wooden, yellow, purple, bobby pins, bows, ribbons, flowers. The whole works.

- Buggy even thinks about asking you to join his crew just for your hair decoration skills.

- One time you even trim his dead ends for him, and some of his front pieces to frame his face more.

- He got so used to it that if you didn’t approach him with a brush in hand first thing in the morning that he would start asking for you saying how he needed his royal brushing. (He’s totally not worried at all sometimes when you take too long, ha that would be. Ahem.)

- Sometimes he’d even doze off, but would swear he was just resting his eyes.

- A few times someone would stop to glance at you two but never intervene, except Luffy. He was always in awe. Sanji had voiced his concerns for you but never says anything in front of Buggy, you could never see but the two men were death staring each other every time they passed.

- Word spreads through the crew and even though none of them had long enough hair to do or in Usopp’s case, has been doing it himself this whole time. They do come to ask for little clips here and there, Luffy wanting one for the string on his hat so he has something to fidget with, (Nami wanting some to wear with her different outfits later on), Usopp wondering where you got heart ones so he could get one for Kaya, even Zoro wondering if you had one he could wear for Kuina’s memory on special occasions.

-You knew you were nearing Coco village, you had overheard Buggy talking to Usopp about it. How they should be there within the day. You settle for a low bun that curls up right beneath his cap.

- "No beads today?" "Well there is some on the tie but you can’t see it, I was thinking that it would be a more relaxed day. I got some stuff to do around the ship."

- Everyone is so caught up in Nami that by the time things have cooled down you realize he’s gone, no more blue hair to twirl around your fingers.

- The clown realizes too, fiddling with the tie in his hands. Burying the longing deep down, hoping he never sees you again but praying he might get a glance of you once more. He takes it out if he knows he’s about to raid somewhere to avoid breaking it.

- Tears apart his quarters if he misplaces it, someone has almost lost a hand because it fell off a table. 

#buggy the clown #buggy x reader #buggy live action #i would love to braid his hair

[esmedelacroix]

Christmas Special

surprising husband!miguel o'hara revealing your pregnancy to him on Christmas day⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆

1 days til' christmas ← previous part

--------------------------------------------------------

You woke up on Christmas morning getting up quickly feeling like you were on top of the world. You got up about to practically skip out of your bedroom smelling the sweet breakfast and coffee Miguel was making.

Until you didn't feel like you were on top of the world and you felt like you were spinning downwards. You had gotten up way too quickly and ate a heavy meal the night prior and now you had to vomit.

As you hurled almost all the contents of your stomach, you heard Miguel's rushed steps and soon he was by your side with a glass of water. You leaned against him feeling a bit distraught that you would have to go through this until you got used to having smaller meals throughout the day and not guzzling water when you were feeling thirsty which was all the time.

Not the best start to such an amazing day but the breakfast that Miguel had made was a great pick-me-up. The two of you went over to sit in front of the tree and open gifts. Miguel had gotten you a whole closet of new clothing, jewelry, a watch, and three new pairs of shoes. The gift that spoke volumes to you was the handmade card that Miguel had made for you.

He always had this skill of being able to make you cry and feel like the most loved woman on earth with a simple handmade card. You wrapped your arms around him, nuzzling your face in his neck. He caressed your hair just happy to see you so happy.

In his card, he wrote about the past week and how all he wanted was for you to be happy during your favorite time of year. About how he loves you so much and is happy that he can call you ‘my wife’. He wrote that he hopes that someday soon you can share your secret with him.

Afterward, Miguel opened his gifts from you. A watch, some cufflinks, a cute apron, shoes, and random clothing had been bought throughout the holidays because you can't stop buying things that remind you of him. He read your Christmas card that explained your struggle with finding him the perfect gift for the holidays but you finally found it. The card alluded to the final gift under the tree. The small rectangular box

Under the tree amongst the torn wrapping paper and gift-wrapping ribbons, sat that same red rectangular box wrapped in dark green ribbon. You picked it up and handed it over to Miguel. He slowly pulled at the ribbon untied the bow, and looked up at you raising a suspenseful brow. He slowly opened the box and put his glass down from the top of his head to the bridge of his nose.

Once he could make out what was in the box he dropped it. He looked up at you, eyes nearly popping out of his skull. He did a double-take looking back down at the box covering him hung open mouth with his hand. "Baby, you're pregnant?" he asked as you could almost hear the tears in his voice.

"Yes, Merry Christmas," you said as you held his arms out to him.

He immediately hugged you, kissing your forehead and peppering kisses all over your face. In between each kiss was a breathful, "Thank you," You had never seen a gift bring him to tears until now.

"I'm going to be a father," he stated aloud forcing himself to believe the words coming out of his mouth.

You knew in any second he was going to ask you to pinch him so you went ahead and did it. "We're having a baby!" Miguel exclaimed as he hugged you again making giggles rise in your throat.

"This is what I've been hiding from you, I wanted to surprise you," you admitted, running your hand through his hair.

"You have no idea how happy you've made me," he mumbled into your chest as his bare warm hands found their way under your tanktop and caressed your stomach. You weren't really showing yet but he couldn't wait to take care of you and see you swollen and carrying a baby he put in you.

"Hi baby," he whispered as he touched your stomach.

"You know I actually had a feeling you were preg—" Miguel started.

"Oh shut up you," you said laughing at his little joke.

This would be you and Miguel's merriest Christmas. You knew the next seven months would consist of Miguel hovering over you and extra princess treatment but you honestly didn't mind. This Christmas wasn't spent as a couple, it was spent as a mom, dad, and child. It would be your first Christmas dinner for three.

--------------------------------------------------------

. . .

the end <3

a/n: I hope you all liked this series. I hope you enjoyed your holidays as well. Don't be shy to send me a lil request if there's any other content you'd like to see.

--------------------------------------------------------

taglist: @aripet22@to-the-endoftheline@sad-author-san

#miguel o hara #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel x you #miguel o'hara x you #astv miguel #across the spiderverse #spiderman 2099 x reader #spider man atsv #spiderman into the spiderverse #spiderman across the spiderverse #astv x reader #miguel fanfic #miguel o #miguel o'hara fluff #miguel o hara fluff #miguel spiderverse #miguel spiderman #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel imagine #spiderman 2099 #miguel o hara x reader #miguel fluff #christmas fluffdown

[thelovelyruin]

𝖕𝖗𝖎𝖒𝖆𝖉𝖔𝖓𝖓𝖆.

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖘 : choso x fem reader

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖚𝖓 : you’re choso’s girl, and he makes sure to give you anything you want.

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖒𝖔𝖔𝖓 : smut, love, porn with plot, vaginal sex, praise, teasing, fingering.

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖎𝖔𝖙 : 3.6K

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖗 : inspired by lyrics from primandonna by marina and the diamonds.

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖊𝖒𝖕𝖗𝖊𝖘𝖘 : hello lovelies, thank you so much for reading! i hope you enjoy it; if so, follow me for more. au revoir!

18+ MDNI ADULT CONTENT

Primadonna girl, all I ever wanted was the world…

“Chosooooo…” 

“Yes, princess?” 

“I want it real bad!” 

“That one?” 

“Yeah, that one!” 

“No problem, baby.” 

When you and Choso originally came to the mall, it was to get a dress you saw in one of the catalogs that gets mailed to your place. You’d been excited all week, having to wait til the weekend to get it ‘cause that’s when it released. You were one of the first ones there, trying it on and walking out on the runway in the store. Choso was enamored with you, especially when you did poses at the end, obviously playing around, but nonetheless, he had it bagged for you and paid for by the time you got dressed again. Even though you knew he would get it for you, you were still really grateful, kissing him as he took the bag from the counter. 

You’d decided to wear a pink tracksuit combo that day, a cropped jacket and shirt, and lowrise pants to show off your belly button ring. You wore your hair up in a ponytail, a couple of strands let out, and a cute pair of earrings. Then there were your bangles, clinking against your wrist as you walked in your pink Amiri’s. You called it “athleisure but way cuter!” (not like you were actually going to the gym), but despite what you wore, Choso thought you looked damn good.

I can't help that I need it all!

You and Choso have been together for about three years; it was pretty much love at first sight, at least for him. When he’d first seen you, it was in a magazine feature their team had gotten, getting a couple of models to take pics on the cars; you’d worn this cute top and shorts that left little to the imagination. Yuuji had given the magazine to him at a meet since he hadn’t gone to the photoshoot himself. When he landed on the page with you on it, Yuuji said:

“Dude, she’s a babe. She’s done a couple of shoots, but this was the first for our team. Just had to pick her; I mean, just look at those-”

“Look at my what Yuuji?”

You were standing in front of them now, manicured finger bringing the page down to look them in the eyes. Yuuji choked on his spit as Choso got flustered seeing you in person for the first time. You’d look past them and at the car they were sitting on, a G80 M3 with a candy purple wrap.

“Ooooo! This is so cute! Who’s is it?”

Yuuji pointed at Choso, who awkwardly smiled and gave you a little wave. You walked over to him, arms crossed as you looked into his eyes. Shamelessly, he looked you up and down, eyes landing back on your face as you smirked.

“And who are you?”

“Choso, nice to meet you.”

“Of course it is! Nice car, too bad I couldn’t shoot on it.”

You were a spicy one, but fuck, you were sexy.

“You can if you want to.”

You’d walked up to him, face inches from his as you looked up at him. Yuuji took that as his cue to leave, patting Choso’s hand as he walked off.

“Depends, do you want me to?”

“What I want is to take you out.”

“Yeah?”

“Definitely. Let me pick you up on Friday.”

“Hmm, I’ll think about it!”

You say that I'm kinda difficult, but it's always someone else's fault!

You’d walked away from him, leaving him licking his lips as you left. He’d seen you around for the rest of the night, talking to a couple of the other girls, then taking turns with them to flag for the races. Before Choso left for the night, he’d looked for you, but you had already left. He sighed in defeat and walked back to his car, but before he got in, he caught something under his windshield wiper—a napkin with your lipstick print, and your phone number right above it.

Choso did take you out that Friday, picking you up and taking you out for dinner, a little bowling after. He’d fucked your brains out that night, and you two were pretty much inseparable since then. Before you came along, Choso won a few races a month, then bought a dealership; pretty well off but didn’t have a lot of things to spend it on. But you had plenty. After about three months, he’d moved you out of your place and into his apartment downtown, bringing your cat with you. He’d gotten you a C6 convertible, of course, gloss pink wrap with custom cheetah print seats, which you’d drive to and from Pilates and Starbucks, always coming home to kiss him as he spoke to the employees at the dealership. You’d cook him a nice dinner and snuggle up to him at night, a true love story.

Choso fucking loved you and, as a result, had a thing for praising you. Friends would say he kisses the ground you walk on, but he tells them no. He makes out with it. You were his and loved it, wearing a little silver chain with his name on it, him having a tattoo of your initials behind his ear. He’d send you on trips while he went out of state to race, often to fashion weeks, always coming back with quite the list. Like that time you’d come home from Milan, and you just had to have that sparkly Versace dress you saw.

Choso got you everything you wanted, no matter the cost or size. That is until now.

Got you wrapped around my finger, babe; you can count on me to misbehave!

“Baby, you already have that one.”

“Yeah, but not in pink! I got it last year in white before the new drop, so now I just have to have it!”

You looked up at him with puppy-dog eyes, which usually worked, but this time, he genuinely didn’t see a purpose in getting the same bag twice.

“It’s a no, princess. Sorry.”

Unfortunately for him, you were a fucking brat. Not that you couldn’t take no for an answer, but you weren’t gonna be happy about it. You’d walked off from him now, him tailing you to make sure you were okay. You’d walked into another store, real sweet to the attendant that walked up to help, but rolling your eyes at Choso as you looked through the racks.

“Princess…”

“Yes?”

“You’re acting like a brat.”

“Whatever do you mean? I’d like to try these on, please.”

Would you do anything for me?

With that, you walked away, the attendant opening the dressing room for you two as Choso sat the bags down. You’d put the dresses on the hangers as Choso took a seat on the bench in the room. Swiftly, you took off your jacket, hanging it on the door hook and taking off your pants, your shirt following. And what did you have on? One of those pretty lace sets he’d gotten you a month or so ago, a gift for your anniversary. You were wearing probably the only set he hasn’t fucked you in. You weren’t oblivious, taking extra time to get up from the floor while undressing. Choso felt pretty courageous, pulling you back into his lap as you gasped at the sudden motion. He spread your legs over his thighs, keeping your legs open as his hand walked itself down to your panties, which Choso rubbed through the fabric, making you squirm a bit. He brought his mouth to the side of your face, whispering in your ear as his other hand pinched your nipple through your bra.

“You’re pretty damn wet, princess. Want me to help you with that?”

“Mhm!”

“Gonna stop acting like a brat so I can eat your pussy?”

“Yes, baby, please!”

“My pleasure.”

Would you get down on your knees for me?

Choso set you up on the bench as he sat on the floor, pulling your panties off and gently sitting them down next to you. You met his gaze as he spread your legs, kissing the skin of your thighs as you bit your lip in anticipation. He chuckled a bit as he kissed the outside of your lips, excited to taste that familiar sweetness he’d indulge in every day if he could. Teasing you, he licked lightly into your slit, tongue barely grazing your pussy as you sat there whimpering. He’d brought his face back up, signaling you to quiet down as he tasted you. You shut your mouth, groaning into your hand as he began eating your pussy. He’d make it quick today, on a time crunch, before the attendant returned to check on you. He’d brought his face deeper into you, fucking his tongue into you as you gripped his hair. He’d heard you moaning his name into your hand, smiling into your pussy as you closed your eyes to center yourself from all the pleasure. With that, he decided to mess with you a bit. He took his tongue off you, replacing it with his fingers, you groaning from the lack and returning pleasure. 

I know I've got a big ego; I really don't know why it's such a big deal, though!

“Move your hand.”

Hesitantly, you moved it, trying to moan as quietly as possible as his thumb rubbed your clit, the others pumping inside of you.

“That’s a good girl. How ya feelin’ baby?”

“So good, Choso…”

“Yeah? You like it when I fuck you here?”

“Yessss…”

His fingers had found that sweet spot inside you, throwing your head back as your body arched forward.

“God, you’re so fuckin beautiful, you know that?”

“So sexy, even when you’re pissed at me.”

“Look at you, lookin’ pretty as you fuck my fingers.”

All the praise was driving you mad. You brought your hand to your mouth, bracing yourself for the impending orgasm. Instead, choso brought his hand up to your mouth, pulling his body upward to kiss the side of your face as he pumped relentlessly inside of you, feeling you almost screaming his name into his hand.

“You’re so pretty when you cum, you know that? Let me see that pretty face. Cum for me, baby.”

With that, you lost it, body jerking onto his fingers as you moaned his name over and over into his hand. He replaced his hand with his lips, feeling you groan into his mouth as you came down. He kissed his way back down, putting your panties back on as you sat there panting, recovering from your high. Smiling, he brought his lips to your again, pulling away to get a good look at you.

“Such a good girl for me.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, princess.”

Choso wiped your juices off his face, watching you fix your lipgloss. Damn, you were-

“Ma’am, you okay in there?”

When you give, I want more, more, more! 

You opened the door, body adorned with one of the dresses you picked out, as you stepped out and did a spin.

“Do I look good in this dress?”

“Beautiful, ma’am!”

“Great, I’ll take it!”

After you got dressed and the attendant checked you out, she gave a wave and smile to both of you as you left the store. You held tight onto Choso’s arm, smiling up at him as he guided you towards the mall parking lot. He’d opened the car door for you, sitting you inside as he put the bags in the backseat. Starting the car, he looked over at you.

“Ready to go home, baby?”

“Actually, can we get ice cream first?”

I wanna be adored!

Get what I want 'cause I ask for it, not because I'm really that deserving of it!

Choso always went all out for your birthday, going above and beyond to make your day special. He’d started the morning by getting a private chef to come up to the apartment to make you breakfast. Before that could happen, though, he was having trouble getting you out the bed, especially with how you’d woke him up.

“Choso…”

“Yeah, baby?”

“Wanna fuck you, can we?”

Usually, he’d be more than happy to feel your pussy first thing in the morning, but you two had overslept (or, as you called it, beauty sleep), and the chef was gonna be there in the next 45 minutes, which you’d take the whole time to get ready.

“Want to, baby, promise, but your first surprise is about to get here soon; go start getting ready.”

When you’d heard surprise, you’d pretty much forgotten about morning sex, instantly hopping out the bed to start getting ready. You were so excited for your birthday that you got your hair curled the day before, lashes too; they were the finishing touch after you’d done your makeup. You decided on a cute pink tennis dress to match your pink Dolce sneakers, holding off on dressing up until later this evening. With a couple of sprays of perfume and a little gloss, you were ready just in time for the chef.

When you were done eating, you looked up to Choso, waiting to see what came next. He gave you a kiss and a smile, walking you to the living room, a bunch of boxes wrapped in pink paper on the middle of the floor. You squealed as you ran and sat down, waiting for him to come over.

“Oh, baby, you’re too sweet!”

“No problem, princess.”

You went through your gifts: a couple of pairs of heels he’d seen you looking at on Pinterest, one of those new hairdryers you saw on TikTok, jewelry, lingerie, the usual stuff. You’d give him a kiss between every present; lips probably had more gloss than yours did at this point. Some of the stuff you’d try on and walk around in like you were modeling, like the Chanel sunnies he’d gotten you. It always made him so happy; he could tell you loved every single one. You’d always take care of anything he’d gotten you, everything down to the first thing he’d gotten you, a sterling anklet you’d found online. After two years time, the chain snapped, and you had quite the fit. You’d been sad for days. Unfortunately, he couldn’t fix it, but he’d been there for you to reassure you that even though it broke, his love for you wouldn’t.

As you closed the final box, you wrapped him in your arms and kissed his cheek repeatedly, making him giggle as he almost fell over.

“Got one more thing for you, baby.”

Choso walked to the room, returning with a box with a big bow on the top. You looked at him skeptically, intrigued that this gift had been separated from the others. Still, you took it as he handed it to you, setting it on the couch next to him as you opened it. There was a layer of paper on it, followed by a simple dust bag, presumably to hide what was underneath it. Before you opened it, you looked up at him; he nodded to you to finish unboxing it. You slowly opened the dust bag, pulling-

“BABY, OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD!”

Choso had gotten you the pink version of the Vivienne Westwood bag you’d seen at the mall! You pounced at him as he smiled and braced himself for impact.

“You like it, baby?”

“I like it? I like it? I LOVE IT!”

Going up, going down, down, down!

You’d put your lips on his now as he brought a hand around you to sit the bag down gently. You completely straddled him, body pressing to his as you made out with him. He’d brought his hands to your ass, bringing your hips closer to him as you kissed him deeper. You’d pulled away, looking at him with half-lidded eyes, biting your lips.

“Baby?”

“Yeah, princess?”

“Wanna show you how grateful I am.”

“Yeah, how you gonna do that?”

“You're gonna take me back to the room so I can-”

Choso cut you off, throwing you over his shoulder as you playfully slapped his back, him slapping your ass next to his head. When he got you to the room, he laid you down quickly, taking off your sneakers and outfit; hate to mess up such a cute dress with cum stains, ya know? He’d removed his clothes, lifting your body to sit on the bed so you rested your head on the pillows.

Anything for the crown, crown, crown!

Choso brought his lips to yours, kissing you softly and then rushing down to your tits, making you laugh. He’d wrapped his lips around your nipple, looking up at you as he rubbed his hands up and down your body, tickling you slightly. 

“You like that, baby?

“Hmm, maybe…I think your lips would feel wayyy better somewhere else.”

“Oh yeah? Suddenly, I’m really hungry.”

He brought his body down in between your thighs, in one motion, bringing your thighs up to your chest, spreading you open for him. You whimpered when his tongue found your pussy, holding your legs firm as he fucked his tongue into you. Choso was having a lot of fun, seeing you squirm in the position you were in as he all but devoured your pussy. He let all of your juices spread his face, anything to taste more and more of you. When he started sucking your clit? You went nuts. You moaned his name over and over, gripping the shits as you were able to be as loud as you wanted. You felt that fire growing inside you as his nose rubbed against your clit, tongue sinking further and further, exploring you as you fell out above him.

“Baby…”

“Baby, I’m about to cum!”

“Baby, fuck, I-”

You came for him, closing your thighs out of reflex, nearly suffocating him. He brought his face up, letting your legs down, smiling down at you as you tried to catch your breath. Choso was pretty damn cocky. He knew that his tongue sent you flying, having to center yourself as you came down. He brought his body over yours, kissing the side of your face as you came to.

“You okay, princess?”

When the lights dim down, down, down, I spin around!

In one fall swoop, you flipped Choso over, straddling his waist as you brought yourself down on his dick. He was gone, shocked at how fast you’d maneuvered but also from how fucking good you felt. He brought his hands to your hips, fixing his legs so he could fuck into you. You were on top of the world, literally. He was thrusting into you rapidly, one hand on your tit, the other holding your ass as he slammed you down on his dick. Fuck, you two were in love. Bodies sweating against each other, both getting turned on by the other's face, flustered and fucked out as you brought your bodies against each other. You’d shifted your hips slightly so he could fuck into you at that angle that made you scream his name.

“Princess, fuck, you feel so fucking good.”

“Choso, fuck, right there, don’t stop!”

Got you wrapped around my finger, babe…

He was hellbent on making you cum on top of him; he could make you cum in missionary or doggy style later, but right now? He couldn’t get enough of your face, lips quivering and eyes forced shut as you tried to hold on to any sort of balance you had.

“Princess..”

“Mhm?”

“Look at me.”

Hesitantly, you looked in his eyes, knowing at that point you were about to cum. You were completely self-indulgent, and Choso loved it; you’d brought your body forward, resting on your hands on either side of his head as he fucked into you. Shit, he wasn’t gonna last much longer either with your face as close to his, getting a front-row view of your reactions to how good he was fucking you. He’d gripped your ass as leverage to slam you down harder, slapping the skin there every time you said his name. When your arms started to shake, he knew you were about to cum, so, like a good boyfriend, he talked you through it.

“Look how pretty you are, fuck I love you.”

“Gonna give you the world, baby.”

“You’re mine, yeah? Cum for me, then baby, give it to me.”

You lost it right then and there, arms collapsing and body laying down on his as you came hard all over him. God, you were an angel. Whimpering for him as you milked his dick, pussy spasming around his shaft. Choso came at that point, holding your hips against his as he filled you up, groaning as he sat his face into your shoulder. Panting, he brought you into a hug as he fucked you through your orgasm, smiling as you moaned his name softly.

You can count on me to misbehave!

Choso felt a little bad for fucking you so hard, your curls had fallen a bit, and your mascara had smudged a bit when you came. You lifted your hips slightly, letting him know to pull you off and lay you down. You turned your body towards him, running your hands through his hair. He swore at this moment he could marry you; watch you walk around with his ring on your finger, but right now? He was a little too fucked out to think about it clearly.

“How was it princess?”

“So good!”

He smiled and picked you up, taking you to the bathroom to get washed up. Looking at his watch, it was 10:45. Depending on how long you took to ready again, you guys could make the lunch reservations.

“Hey, baby?”

“Yeah, princess?”

“So, there was this LC500 i was looking at…”

“It’s yours.”

Primadonna girl!

♱ the song used in this story is primadonna by marina and the diamonds. 🖤

♱ masterlist.

♱ all fics playlist.

𝖆𝖚 𝖗𝖊𝖛𝖔𝖎𝖗, 𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊𝖑𝖞𝖗𝖚𝖎𝖓.

#choso x reader #chosoxreader #choso x female reader #chosoxfemalereader #choso x you #chosoxyou #choso x y/n #chosoxy/n #choso x f!reader #chosoxf!reader #choso x fem!reader #chosoxfem!reader #choso x fem reader #chosoxfemreader #choso #choso jjk #jjk choso #jujutsu kaisen choso #choso kamo #kamo choso #choso smut #choso supremacy #choso fanfic #choso fluff #choso fic #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk x fem!reader #jjk fluff #jjk

[heartsforhavik]

Heyyy so I saw your yandere Smoke headcanons and I really enjoyed reading them! Honestly I really love all of your stuff because you're super talented but that in particular was like 👁👁

If you don't mind, may I request some yandere headcanons for Rain as well? If so, thank you so much in advance! I hope you have a nice day/night!

yandere rain/zeffeero x reader hcs

warnings: violence, toxic relationship, stalking, yk regular yandere tendencies

summary: just some hcs of yandere rain in love with (gender neutral) reader who is royalty.

a/n: anon, i cried tears of happiness when i saw that, and then i ran around my bedroom giggling and kicking my feet. anyways i got SO MANY requests for more yandere characters, i’m so glad y’all like it :D yandere liu kang is next so stay tuned.

being the high mage of outworld, rain was pretty much always in the palace. but he never got tired of it. because you were there.

he was so enamored with you, the beautiful person sitting on the throne beside your sisters and mother. you looked so elegant every single day.

rain often stared at you any time you were in the same room. he just stared and thought of your future together. he had no doubt that you two would be together in the future forever. til' death do you part.

even though you don't get to talk to him as much as he'd desire. but that's okay, rain is a very patient and calculated man! he can wait for you to finally realize just how in love he is with you. he isn't worried about *when* you fall in love with him, because he is so confident that you will be together in the future.

for now, he must be very careful. especially because your family has high expectations for who your consort must be.

therefore, he is determined to prove himself worthy of your affections. rain already knows he is worthy, since he is the high mage of outworld, but he works hard every day to prove that title wasn't given for free.

but he is also quite the gentleman when it comes to his attempts at courting you. he often holds doors open for you, learns cute water tricks just to impress you, and often asks you about your day or how you're feeling.

rain just sounds so great, doesn't he? he sounds like such a kind gentleman, surely nothing is wrong with him...

but deep down, zeffeero is so in love with you, he believes he can easily court you and marry you someday. and he is not afraid of taking out his competition in order to do so.

do you remember that one man that was recommended for you to marry? of course you don't, because he never responded back when you accepted. you don't know what happened to him. maybe he is ignoring you? oh well, at least you have the cute hydromancer that is always there for you!

zeffeero is always there for you. your troubles will never last as long as he is there by your side. he will always make you feel better. you need him to feel better, don't you?

he is very determined for you to depend on him. you make him feel so smart and strong when you go to him for advice or help for the smallest things. you need help carrying a couple boxes? no worries, he can just carry them all himself! you don't know which outfit looks better on you? he thinks you look radiant in any outfit you wear, but he would gladly give you his input anyway!

besides, if zeffeero slowly convinces you that you need him, then someday you will be completely devoted to him and you will never leave him. you can't leave him, you need his support and his love. nobody can help you or love you as much as he does.

and he knows you're royalty so you're very well-trained, but he must protect you anytime you need it. he doesn't think the umgadi are fit to defend you. they won't be able to defend you as well as the high mage of outworld can.

also, zeffeero isn't just smart and strong, he is also very considerate and observant. sometimes, he shows up to your bedroom and offers your favorite breakfast in the morning. but.. how did he know what your favorite is? oh, he can just tell by your expression as you eat it. that's it! he totally doesn't stare at you until his eyes go dry and follow you around when you don't notice! he always sees you sneak off into the kitchen at night to grab some of it. he knows, since he always notices when you leave your bedroom.

he likes sneaking into your bedroom and watching you sleep. he studies the way you sleep so he can provide a bed that best suits your needs in your future house. and plus, zeffeero thinks you just look so cute when you’re asleep and vulnerable!

he is also a very good listener. when you need a shoulder to cry on, he is always there to hear you and listen to you rant about your problems or people who hurt you. oh? you noticed that they miraculously stopped messing with you? and they run off as soon as they see you? oh, that's great! it totally wasn't because zeffeero threatened to take their lives...

overall, he's just such a great friend! he would be an even better boyfriend, wouldn't he? maybe even an amazing husband! you should probably reciprocate his affections as soon as he confesses. maybe he can help protect you, since you always get the feeling that you're being watched and followed everywhere you go. i mean, he's not the one watching and following you... right?

#mortal kombat 1 x reader #mk x reader #mk1 x reader #rain x reader #rain mortal kombat #zeffeero x reader #zeffeero #yandere mortal kombat #yandere x reader #yandere zeffeero #this took me so long #cuz i dont know how to write yandere rain

[blouisparadise]

Upon request, today we have a rec list of bottom Louis fics where Louis and Harry get married and have a wedding in the fic. If you enjoy our rec lists, please be sure to like and reblog this post to help spread the word. Happy reading!

1) The Nuptial Blessing | Explicit | 3,576 words

The sweet smell of strawberries and cinnamon engulfed the entire room. He held his breath as Louis walked down the aisle to the altar. His omega looked like a walking angel- an ethereal beauty not belonging to this world, yet he was for Harry to ravage tonight.

2) I Fell For You Like A Star Falls From The Skies | Not Rated | 6,433 words

Note: This fic is the fifth part in a series but can be read alone.

Love isn't instant. you don't lock eyes and know that you want to be with someone forever, life just doesn't work that way. But the love that Louis and Harry have for each other comes pretty damn close. Wedding bells are ringing for your favorite couple, and dammit are they ready to be Mr. and Mr. Styles.

3) Please, Don’t Say You Want Me | Teen & Up | 9,320 words

Prompt 496: ABO/royalty AU. Where Omega Prince Louis is forced to marry alpha King Harry by his father for the benefit of their kingdom. After the wedding, Harry lets Louis know that he didn’t want a mate and to not expect a relationship from him. Since they are already mated, Harry has to officially reject Louis’s omega to break ties. This practice is so taboo that he doesn’t know the omega has a maximum of a year left to live after rejection. As time goes on, the omega gets weaker and weaker.

4) Won't See It Coming Til It's Already Gone | Explicit | 12,631 words

“Tell me that this is a fake,” Peter says, slapping a handful of papers against Louis’ chest. He says something else, something loud and demanding, barely even pausing for a breath, but Louis doesn’t hear it. All he hears is the sound of his own breathing, the sound of his own heartbeat. Because this - this looks like a marriage certificate. For a minute, everything stills, quiets. Louis drags his eyes up, meets Harry’s gaze, fixed on him. Then the noise is back, shouting voices clamoring to be heard over each other, and Harry is still staring at him. The ring that Louis hadn’t been able to stop noticing in the loo weighs heavily on his hand. His left hand.

5) Falling Down For You | Explicit | 14,750 words

If there was an alpha that Louis wanted to call his, it would be Harry. But what happens when an arranged marriage, a hungry press, and doubts get in the way?

6) Dreams Can't Take The Place Of Loving You | Explicit | 15,496 words

Note: This fic is locked and can only be read by AO3 users.

In which Liam is the go-to ring guy, Niall's relentless, Zayn is family, and Harry and Louis are disgusting.

7) Life Won't Wait | Explicit | 20,327 words

Note: This fic is the third part in a series, so we'd read the other two fics first.

It’s not until the third attempt goes terribly, horribly wrong that Harry realizes Louis is doing it on purpose. All he can do is sit back in his chair, narrow his eyes, and watch as Louis pats the waiter on the back pseudo-helpfully, pretending like he’s actually doing something that makes up for the fact that he just deliberately tripped a waiter at one of the poshest restaurants in London and caused pasta to be spilled all over the place better. Like a pat on the back could make all of that better. Ten minutes later, they exit the restaurant with absolutely no grace. Harry lets Louis tug him along, shielding him from the worst of the paps, but he doesn’t let up on the glare he’s got going on, directed at Louis’ back. The gossip rags will all be screaming with headlines about how they’ve finally broken up for good, but it doesn’t matter right now.

8) Thawing Permafrost | Explicit | 22,556 words

Louis is from the frozen mountains of Glacien. Harry is from the searing desert of Calidius. They come from opposite worlds, but all it takes is an arranged marriage to bring them together as one.

9) Swept Me Off My Feet (Took My Heart And Took Me Down) | Explicit | 25,447 words

When Louis had decided to reopen his mother's bakery, he never thought a charming alpha would walk in through the door, let alone fall in love with him over tea, dessert and music.

10) You Are My Familiar | Explicit | 27,088 words

Louis loses his dog, and Harry takes in a stray. A whole year passes before they realize that it’s the same dog, and that kind of complicates things.

11) Ours Are The Moments I Play In The Dark | Mature | 30,830 words

Jane Austen’s Persuasion AU. Nine years ago Louis Tomlinson was persuaded to break off his engagement to Harry Styles, a poor sailor. Since then Louis has come to regret being so easily convinced to give up his one chance of happiness. Now Louis’ family is in debt and his childhood home is being sold. In a complete reversal of fortune, Harry has returned to England a wealthy bachelor looking to settle down. Events conspire to bring them together once more though Louis is- must surely be- the last man on earth that Captain Styles would think of now.

12) The List | Mature | 32,094 words

'In the weeks that follow, Harry opens his old journal more than he has in the past two years each time he remembers Venice or thinks about Louis. He always flips to the same random page in the middle of the book, marked by the picture of himself that Louis sent him a few days after they got home. There’s a message on the back that says, ‘Spontaneous looks good on you! See you soon,’ and it makes Harry’s chest warm each time he reads it. He wedges their list out from between the worn pages, and it feels silly staring down at a folded up piece of paper with a strange sense of nostalgia for experiences they’ve yet to have; for places they’ve never even been.'

13) If I Loved You Less | Explicit | 36,139 words

Beautiful omega Louis Tomlinson is set to make his come out in London society and determined to find a mate in his first Season. With the help and protection of his oldest friend, Lord Niall Mendes, he takes Society by storm. Being a wealthy and titled alpha means Lord Harry Styles has grown used to avoiding unmated omegas��until now. This Season he finds himself at every Society event just for a chance to speak with the omega with the flashing blue eyes. Louis has the aristocracy at his feet and all the suitors he could hope for, but his secrets may ruin his chance at a love match.

14) Show Me Life Like I've Never Seen | Mature | 42,948 words

Louis never expected to leave the small art studio three blocks down from his job with anything besides the painting he caught a glimpse of and simply couldn't forget.

15) What A Wicked Thing To Do (To Make Me Dream Of You) | Explicit | 44,444 words

Heirs Louis and Harry have been promised as mates to each other their whole lives. It’s expected that they will be the perfect pair to bring honor to their families. Louis cannot let that happen.

16) Tastes Like Summer, Smiles Like May | Explicit | 47,519 words

A cold prince, an alpha with nothing left to lose and a kingdom with a secret.

17) Lunar Waltz | Explicit | 56,795 words

Louis has to replace his (missing) twin brother and marry one of the most dangerous alphas of the kingdom.

18) Every Story Has Its Scars, Ours Is a Brand New Start | Mature | 62,865 words

Life as a devoted husband and an amazing father turned out to be a little different than Louis had expected. Everyone tells him it doesn't have to be that way; that he's worth more and that he's so much stronger than any one person trying to keep him down. It's all just words though until he meets the one person who makes him truly believe it.

19) I’ve Got You | Explicit | 62,988 words

As a reward for saving the king’s life, Harry is offered omega Prince Louis’ hand in marriage. Neither of them has any interest in the union going forward, and so they concoct a plan to prove to the king that they are far from a perfect match.

20) Mead Of Poetry | Explicit | 65,053 words

Under the pressure of continuing the Styles viscountcy line now that he is getting older, Harry sets himself three rules to finally settle down and marry: firstly, the omega needs to be reasonably attractive, secondly, they must be of great mind, thirdly, they cannot be anyone he would ever fall in love with. Enters Charlotte Tomlinson, the diamond of the first water of the upcoming season and seemingly the perfect candidate to the viscount’s plan, but her omega brother, Louis, is in Harry’s way. Louis only seeks to protect his sister and he sure is not going to let a rake play with her heart.

21) Now I'm Begging for Footnotes in the Story of Your Life | Explicit | 80,742 words

Harry and Louis are engaged, but a few months before the wedding Louis realises that they don't like each other, so instead of ending the engagement two of them go head-to-head in an all out prank war. In the battle of who will end the engagement first.

22) Billow And Breeze (Islands And Seas) | Explicit | 102,506 words

It was bright; that was the first thing Louis could recall. With a groan, he winced at the throbbing behind the sockets of his eyes and rubbed his temples in an effort to soothe the pain. Maybe he really did hit his head when he took his tumble. The omega squinted as he looked at the surrounding rolling hills and fog hanging over the countryside. As strange as it was, the world felt different, though it looked practically the same. Disoriented and confused, Louis padded through the moss and listened for his husband. “Liam?” he croaked shakily. Nothing but a symphony of woodland creatures met his ears. His footsteps were muted by mossy green grass beneath his feet and soil fragrant as he neared the crest of the hill. At the top, he froze, lips parted in horror and eyes widening at the expanse of empty farmland—not a soul in sight. It had only been less than ten minutes prior that he could see Inverness from the crest, but now there was nothing. “Impossible,” he whispered to himself, shaking his head in disbelief—his mind not quite able to make sense of it.

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

#bottom louis #top harry #larry #fic recs #blp fic recs #wedding #marriage

[not-goldy]

I'll believe discharged buddy soldiers over homophobic anons, solos & Jikook antis who've decided to make up rules for the buddy system to help them cope.

There's a interview on two buddy soldiers who've been dischagred, on the ministry site to read. One a cook, one a gunner. Who talked about their experience being together every day & dealing with arguments. One said, "since we lived in the same & shared a bed the entire time we were there until discharge, we would just get in bed & hug it out". Right there you have two confirmed buddy soldiers, with confirmed different jobs, with one being a confirmed cook, telling you straight from the horse's mouth, they were still together every day, living together & sleeping together. So Susan from Oklahoma who knows a friend who knows a korean person, trying to explain the buddy system with their made up rules cause of her homophobic agenda, isn't gonna convince me military changed rules for Jikook. Jikook aren't enlisted separately. They are enlisted companions, so buddy rules will apply for them til discharged regardless of separate jobs. You morons.

Sad knowing Jk has said often he can't concentrate, focus & can't sit still in interviews & all of BTS confirming he doesn't listen or pay attention & how its possible the high stress situation was a bit too much & was assigned something else, we don't know, but instead his fucked up fans are ready to throw him under the bus. Paint him as an asshole who ditched his buddy with no proof & lying he's away from him to cope. Straight up shitting on Jk's month's long hard work he put in to be with Jimin. The application process, the 5 week boot camp training where they were glued 24/7 & picking a harder unit on purpose just to enlist with Jimin. And his fans keep twisting it. So you are saying Jk picked the hardest unit to be a cook in? Braindead losers. ONLY Jk knows why he's cooking & for how long. Leg Injury, too stressful, or a choice doesn't matter, because regardless they are together every single day for the next 2 years & your lies won't change that. Seeing each other breakfast, lunch, dinner and at night in their shared living space. Stay mad.

Damn I hit my little toe trying to rush to the site

Link please and thank you

You doing the lords work

Namjoon's underarms can wait. I have more pressing needs atm😆

[ginnsbaker]

Rivers and Roads (Til I Reach You)

Summary: The best(and worst) ways to fall in love with your best friend's younger sister.

Word count: 11.3k+ | Warnings: Angst, Smut, Underage Sex, Minor Violence | Ship: Yelena x Female Reader

A/N: Takes place before "In Flames" but can be read seperately ; Requested by anon: Would you write about Yelena and Reader's first attempt at a relationship? How they saw each other as more than just Nat's little sister or best friend? ; Hope you like it, anon :)

Masterlist

-

I

Your father's funeral ends the same way these things always do: friends and family approaching you and your mother, one by one, each offering condolences like they're reading from a script. The words are polite, rehearsed, almost mechanical, and though you nod and thank them, each sympathy feels more hollow than the last. 

Like a zombie, you go through the motions, detached from everything around you. 

The crowd eventually thins, and that’s when Natasha approaches with Yelena in tow. She hugs you tightly, her body trembling with emotion. “I'm so sorry, Y/N,” she whispers, her voice catching in her throat. “If there's anything I can do, anything at all, just let me know.”

You feel her warmth, but your response is cold, almost automatic. “Thank you,” you say flatly.

When you step out of Natasha's embrace, Yelena steps forward, a look in her eyes like she's ready to do the same thing. But as she moves closer, she hesitates, her mouth parting as if to speak, but the words remain trapped inside. Without waiting for her to say anything, you excuse yourself and head up to your room.

Downstairs, Natasha tugs Yelena to go home. But Yelena's gaze is fixed on the ceiling, right where she knows your room is. She silently declines, and Natasha, reading the situation, gives her a knowing nod without pushing further. With a quiet goodbye, Natasha exits, leaving Yelena with her eyes still fixed on the ceiling, lost in thought. 

The minutes feel like hours as she sits there, a battle raging inside her. She wants to be there for you, to offer comfort, but she's paralyzed by uncertainty and fear. Finally, a decision forms in her mind, and she rises from the couch, her heart pounding.

Slowly, she makes her way up the stairs. When she reaches your door, she stops, her hand hovering in the air. She hears the soft, unmistakable sound of crying, and her heart aches.

Softly, she places her hand on the door, pretending it's you, pretending she has the ability to comfort you. But she doesn't, and it's one of the most painful experiences of her young life. To stand there, helpless, listening to the person she cares about hurting, and not being able to do anything about it.

Tears well in her eyes as she leans her forehead against the door, feeling the barrier that separates her from you, a barrier she's unable to cross. 

And so, she waits, trusting that someday, when you're ready, she'll be able to step through that door, reach out, and stand by your side when you need her most.

II

She doesn’t see you for the rest of the summer.

She tries to ask Natasha about you, but even your best friend seems guarded, telling her she hasn't heard from you much either. 

Around the same time, a boy from her class, Jeremy, starts dropping by her house. His visits are unexpected but not entirely unwelcome. He's friendly, outgoing, and he makes Yelena laugh—something she hasn't done much of lately.

But as the weeks wear on and Jeremy's interest in her becomes more apparent, Yelena can't shake the feeling that something's missing. Her thoughts keep drifting back to you, to the sound of your crying behind that closed door, to the pain in her chest that she feels every time she thinks of your suffering.

Jeremy tries to get closer to her, invites her out, sends her messages, even brings her chocolates and flowers, but Yelena finds herself holding back. She likes him, but she doesn't feel the connection she longs for, the connection she feels with you.

One evening, as she's aimlessly scrolling through her phone, avoiding yet another message from Jeremy, she stumbles across a picture of you and your father. The memory hits her like a physical blow, and she can't help but wonder how you're coping, if you're healing, if you even think about her at all.

The very next day, she kisses Jeremy for the first time.

III

When she does see you again, it's at a party before the school year begins.

You're alone, clutching a bottle of Jim Beam like a lifeline. You bring it with you, taking long swigs ever so often, not caring who's watching. You look just like the last time she saw you—uninterested, vacant, a shell of the person that used to be filled with so much good energy.

The crowd around you is lively, laughing, celebrating the end of summer, but you stand apart from it all.

Yelena's concern deepens, and she quickly sends a text to Natasha, hoping that she might have some insight or guidance. “She’s here at the party,” she writes, her fingers trembling. “Drinking alone. Looks lost. What should I do?”

The response from Natasha comes quickly, and it's clear from her words that she's as bewildered as Yelena. “What? I didn't know about this. Keep her there. Don't let her leave. I'm coming.”

Yelena looks up from her phone, her eyes scanning the room to find you again. Her heart aches at the sight of you, standing alone, your face a mask of emptiness. 

She takes a deep breath, steeling herself to approach you.

But before she can make her move, a voice calls her name, and she turns to see Jeremy coming towards her with a smile. 

“Hey, beautiful,” Jeremy says cheerfully, closing the distance between them with a warm smile. He leans in and plants a soft kiss on Yelena's cheek.

Yelena forces a smile in return, her thoughts still consumed by the sight of you across the room. She appreciates Jeremy's presence, but at that moment, she can't shake the nagging worry she feels.

“Are you enjoying the party?” Jeremy asks, taking her hand and giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Yeah, it's good,” she says.

Jeremy doesn't seem to notice Yelena's lack of focus. His eyes are alight with excitement, and his grin is infectious as he exclaims, “I've got a surprise for you. Come upstairs with me?”

Her attention is pulled away from you momentarily. “A surprise?”

“Yeah, I think you'll love it,” Jeremy assures her, tugging on her hand gently. “Come on, it'll just take a minute.”

Yelena hesitates, glancing once more in your direction. You’re looking worse by the second, but she also knows that she can't ignore Jeremy, especially when he's clearly made an effort to do something special for her.

With a sigh, she gives in to Jeremy's urging. “Okay, but just for a minute,” she agrees, allowing him to lead her toward the stairs.

IV

You don’t remember much of what happened when you come to.

Your fist is clenched, throbbing with pain, and the skin is turning an unnatural shade of blue. Jeremy—Yelena's new boyfriend—is clutching his arm, his face twisted in agony. Yelena is kneeling next to him, her eyes wide, her face pale, looking up at you in shock.

“What...What happened?” you stammer, the room spinning around you.

You hear a gasp from the doorway. Turning, you see a tall, lanky man with tousled hair and a startled expression. He's holding a drink, the liquid sloshing slightly from the sudden movement.

“Everything alright in here?” he asks, eyebrows raised in concern.

Yelena's gaze shifts to the man, then back to you. Panic flits across her eyes. “It's nothing,” she says, her voice trembling slightly. “Just a...misunderstanding.”

He hesitates, eyes darting between you, Jeremy, and Yelena. He doesn’t look entirely convinced. “That doesn't look like 'nothing'.”He nods towards Jeremy's arm and your bruised fist.

“You should leave,” Yelena hisses at you, her voice low and threatening. She rises to her feet, seemingly towering over you despite the fact that you’re taller than her. “Now.”

You're still disoriented, the pain in your hand and the weight of the situation pressing down on you. “Yelena, I didn't mean–I thought he was forcing himself on you–”

She cuts you off. “I don't care what you meant. Just get out.” Her voice trembles with a mix of anger and fear.

Mark steps aside, allowing you a clear path to the door, but his eyes remain fixed on you, filled with curiosity and suspicion. As you stagger past him, you can hear Yelena's voice, softer now, murmuring words of comfort to Jeremy.

V

The next time you see Yelena, a week has gone by and the purple and blue on your knuckles has substantially faded. 

It’s the weekend and you find yourself in the public library while the rest are hanging out in malls or anywhere that doesn't carry the smell of books. It wasn’t always like this—you’d normally be in the Romanoffs’ house by now, playing video games with Natasha or discussing art and literature with Yelena.

You're browsing through the contemporary fiction section when you spot her. Yelena's back is turned to you, her blonde hair pulled into a messy bun, strands escaping to frame her face. She's engrossed in a thick book, fingers tracing the lines as she reads. The library's tall windows drape her in a warm, sunlit glow, making her look almost unreal.

For a moment, you contemplate turning around and making a silent retreat. The memory of that night at the party, of Jeremy's pained face and Yelena's horrified eyes, still leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. But instead, your feet seem to make the decision for you, carrying you closer until you're standing just a few feet away from her.

She doesn't notice you at first, so engrossed in her reading. Taking a deep breath, you muster the courage to speak. “Yelena?”

She startles, the book nearly tumbling out of her hands. When she turns and meets your eyes, there's a flash of surprise, quickly replaced by guardedness. “Hey,” she says, voice cool and measured.

“I'm sorry,” you blurt out, the words spilling forth in a rush. “For that night, for everything. I never meant to hurt anyone. I went upstairs to use the bathroom and I heard…sounds…coming from that bedroom and I…it didn’t seemed consensual to me, what was happening–”

Yelena interrupts you, her voice rising in defense, “It was consensual.”

You look deep into her eyes, searching for any sign that she’s not telling the truth. “Are you sure?” you ask gently.

“Yes,” she replies firmly, but there's something flickering behind her gaze.

Not convinced, you press on, “How many times?”

She looks taken aback. “What?”

“How many times did you give your consent?” you ask, emphasizing each word.

She hesitates, her mouth opens to say something, but no words come out. 

The few seconds of her silence feels like hours, and then you finally break it. “I just wanted to make sure you're okay," you mutter, pressing your lips together into a tight line.

“Why do you even care?” Yelena scoffs, her eyes narrowing slightly.

Almost reflexively, the truth tumbles out, “Because you're Nat’s little sister.”

For a brief moment, something akin to disappointment crosses Yelena's features, a shadow over her usually bright and fiery eyes. You catch that subtle shift and, for reasons you can't quite place, you're filled with a sudden urge to retract your words.

She exhales sharply, her voice laced with frustration. “So, it's always about her, isn't it? Can't I just be Yelena, without being 'Natasha's sister'? Why does everything I do or whatever happens to me always get linked back to her?”

You swallow hard, realizing your mistake and at the same time, confused as to why it seems like the wrong reason to come to her rescue. “I didn't mean it like that,” you quickly say, fishing for the right words. “I care about you too, Yelena. But yes, knowing Nat makes me more protective. I'm sorry if it came out wrong.”

Yelena simply studies you for a moment before she starts to walk past you as she says, “You say you care, but when your father passed away, you didn't seem to need either of us. Natasha and I tried to be there for you, but you shut us out.”

Your gaze drops, and you quietly fall in step behind her, knowing that she’s right. They both had a bond with your father and felt his loss deeply. While they reached out, you had inadvertently left them in the cold.

“It wasn't that I didn't need or want you both. I just... didn't know how to reach out, how to let anyone in,” Your voice is so faint that Yelena almost misses your words. Abruptly, she halts and, against her better judgment, draws you into a secluded aisle between towering bookshelves for a moment of privacy.

Her hand then reaches out, fingers lightly brushing yours. 

“Don’t shut us out. You don’t have to say anything. Just… don’t be alone. Because you’re not,” Yelena says. “Nat and I are here for you.”

You take a moment, a quiet sniffle escaping before you subtly dab the corner of your eye. Though your face remains composed and your eyes shimmer, they betray the strength you're trying to project—a strength Yelena wishes you didn’t feel compelled to display around her.

“I–I know…” you say. You squeeze her hand in gratitude before releasing it. Yelena tries not to sigh at the loss of your touch. “Is Nat upset with me?”

Yelena hesitates, keenly aware of the proximity between you two in the tight aisle. “She's... waiting, you know. We both are. We've missed you, Y/N.”

Your lips curve into a small, bashful smile. “I've missed you guys too.”

As a rosy hue tints Yelena's cheeks, she wishes, if only for a moment, that those words were meant just for her. She quickly deflects, her voice slightly uneven, “I was about to borrow this and head home,” she gestures to the book she's clutching, placing it as a barrier between you.   

“Are you planning to stay here awhile longer?” she asks.

You ponder on it for a moment before saying, “Can I come with you?”

Yelena smiles.

“Always.”

VI

“I’ve decided to enlist” Natasha tells you one afternoon after school.

“The military?” you ask, trying to maintain focus on the screen. Your fingers dance over the game controller, securing a win against Natasha yet again. You can't help but suspect that she's using this to divert your attention from the game.

“Not exactly the military,” she clarifies. “It's... well, it's for a government project. Details are classified, even from family.”

You pause the game, finally turning to give her your full attention. 

“You're serious,” you say.

Without missing a beat, Natasha resets the game, her casual demeanor juxtaposing the gravity of her decision.

“Does Yelena know?” you ask, eyes flickering towards Natasha.

She hesitates for a moment, her fingers momentarily stilling on the controller. “Not yet,” she admits, her voice softer. “But I'll tell her soon.”

“Where is she anyway?”

Natasha's gaze drifts before she answers, “She's with Jeremy.”

Your eyes harden instantly at the mention of his name, a reaction so visceral that Natasha picks up on it right away.

“You don't like him,” she observes with a smile.

“No, I don't,” you reply tersely.

Natasha's brow furrows with concern. “Did something happen at that party a little over a week ago?”

“Why do you ask?”

She exhales slowly, rubbing her temples. “Just a feeling... Yelena's been... different since then. I thought maybe you'd know why.”

You’re torn. You feel an urge to warn Natasha about this boy that Yelena’s been seeing. But the look on Yelena’s face after you hit him still haunts you to this day.

She’s obviously smitten with him. Going behind her back won’t help.

“Could you, maybe, talk to her?” Natasha asks. “She always listens to you, you know?”

You smirk, trying to lighten the mood. “That’s because I’m the voice of reason.” 

Natasha lets out a soft laugh. “That you are.”

VII

Talking to Yelena proves more challenging than you have anticipated, because you can’t seem to find her these days.

Each time you're at her and Natasha's place, she’s not home. Her room remains untouched, bed made neatly and no signs of recent activity. Natasha assures you she comes home, but always at odd hours, usually when the city's asleep.

It's surprising to learn that she's consistently invited to parties that neither you nor Natasha know about. 

The girl who keeps to herself most of the time, hiding in bookstores and libraries, has now become the talk of the town and the life of the party. You wonder when and how this transformation took place. 

And because she’s Natasha’s little sister, you can’t help but worry about her. Can’t help but think about the kind of people she surrounds herself with these days.

Can’t help but feel protective of her.

Which is why, when you accidentally run into Jeremy after scouring Yelena’s usual hunts in the East Village, you don’t hesitate to approach him even though you're painfully aware he might have every reason to retaliate for that night at the party.

He's leaning against a graffiti-splashed brick wall, a cigarette smoldering between his fingers. As you draw closer, his eyes lock onto yours, recognition igniting an unmistakable spark of animosity.

“Look who it is,” Jeremy sneers, blowing out a cloud of smoke. “What do you want?”

“I'm looking for Yelena,” you reply evenly.

He chuckles darkly and then holds the cigarette between his lips as he says, “What, are you in love with her or something?”

Your jaw tightens, trying to keep your emotions in check. “She's a family friend, okay? My best friend's sister.”

He raises an eyebrow skeptically, taking another drag from his cigarette before exhaling slowly. “I find that hard to believe, especially after the way you came at me.”

Lifting his sleeve, he reveals a dark, mottled bruise, evidence of your previous altercation. “All this for a family friend?”

“I'm protective of the people I care about,” you retort, your gaze unwavering. “Now, where is she?”

Jeremy smirks, the smoke from his cigarette curling between you two. “Why should I tell you? Maybe you should deal with your feelings first.”

You sigh, your patience waning fast. “Are you going to tell me or not?”

Jeremy takes a long drag from his cigarette, exhaling slowly. His smirk falters for a moment. “She dumped me that night,” he finally says, a hint of bitterness in his tone. “Haven't seen her since.”

You’re surprised (and mildly relieved) to learn that Yelena ended things with him that quickly.

“Then why are you still hanging around her usual spots?” you ask.

He shrugs, falling back against the brick wall, looking more dejected than you would have expected. “Hoping she'd change her mind, I guess. But if you're really desperate to find her, there's this place she mentioned once. A quiet spot by the Brooklyn Bridge, where she goes when she needs to think.”

You nod, processing the information. “Thanks for the tip,” you say reluctantly.

He spits out the blunt and then crushes it with his heel. “Whatever.”

VIII

The sun has begun to set when you arrive in Dumbo. Facing the river, with no buildings within its immediate vicinity, the wind moves freely in its playground. The East River shimmers with colors, and the Brooklyn Bridge stands out against the sky. It makes sense to you why Yelena would choose this peaceful spot in the city for solitude.

You find a series of benches scattered along the promenade, some occupied by people absorbed in their own worlds, either gazing at the river or lost in the pages of a book. 

As you walk further along the riverside, you spot a familiar figure perched on a low stone wall. Yelena, with her hair being toyed with by the wind, is staring at the water with a distant look in her eyes. She's so engrossed in her thoughts that she doesn't notice you approaching.

“Hey,” you start softly, not wanting to startle her.

She turns to look at you, surprised at first before it gradually morphs into wariness. 

“Are you stalking me?”

“No, of course not,” you answer quickly. “I was just... worried about you.”

“Worried? Why?”

“Jeremy told me you two broke up. And with you being... distant lately, I just wanted to make sure you're okay.”

Her eyes drift back to the river for a moment, and then she sighs, her shoulders slumping a little. “I didn't expect him to spill our business to you, of all people,” she mutters, sounding more hurt than angry.

“I ran into him while looking for you,” you explain, trying to ease the tension. “He suggested you might be here.”

Yelena crosses her arms, looking a bit skeptical. “So, you're here out of concern, not because you're trying to... I don't know, gloat or something?”

“Gloat?”You blink in confusion. “Why would I gloat?”

She looks away, avoiding your gaze. “Never mind.”

“I just want you to know,” you start, choosing your words carefully, “That whatever is going on, you don't have to deal with it alone. Nat is worried about you, too.”

Yelena lets out a humorless chuckle. “Nat sent you?”

“No,” you clarify, the sort-of lie coming out easily for you. Technically, she did send you, but she mentioned it in passing, hoping you’d help her get through her sister. “But she's concerned. We both are.”

Yelena hums, seemingly unsatisfied with your sentiments. 

“What are you doing here anyway?” you ask, plopping beside her.

She glances at you, then focuses on the water again. “Thinking... about everything. Did you know Natasha is leaving by the end of the month to join some weird government program?”

Your head whips around to face her, surprise evident in your eyes. "She told you?"

Yelena looks even more surprised–and a little hurt–that you already know. 

“You knew?”

You nod grimly. “But I didn’t know she’s leaving so soon.”

Yelena shakes her head, her expression souring slightly. “I found out accidentally while using her laptop the other day. There was an email opened.”

The two of you sit there in silence, both lost in thought. You miss the days when things were simpler, when the three of you would hang out without any secrets or looming departures hanging over your heads.

“I don’t want things to change,” Yelena murmurs, her voice revealing traces of the reserved young girl who once hid behind her older sister’s more confident demeanor.

You wish for the same thing, but the truth is, a lot has already changed.

Starting with the death of your father. 

And now, faced with the prospect of losing your best friend too, you don’t hesitate. You instinctively pull Yelena into a tight embrace. She stiffens momentarily but then melts into the hug, her breath warm against your shoulder, as your bodies fit together in a new and uncertain way.

IX

Natasha’s up and left by the end of September, and as a new month rolls around, you and Yelena both find yourselves spending time together without the balancing force of her sister. Those first few meetings are stilted, almost as if you're dancing around the elephant in the room. There are fumbled greetings, exchanged in hallways and awkward silences over cups of coffee.

During one of those brief encounters, Yelena mentions her struggle with math. It's a subject you've already navigated, being two years her senior. “I remember going through that topic,” you muse one day, sketching out a problem for her. She squints at your notebook, and you can see the cogs turning.

Your sessions become regular, and soon, the two of you are spending longer stretches of time together. The rhythm is slow but steady. There's a mutual understanding that neither of you want to discuss the glaring void Natasha has left behind. Instead, you bond over shared experiences, inside jokes, and little adventures in the city.

Late night study sessions turn into spontaneous pizza runs. Movie marathons evolve from strictly academic films to cult classics and cheesy rom-coms. There's an unspoken agreement that you both desperately need a distraction, and slowly, you become that for each other.

However, in the crowded hallways of school, things aren't as seamless. You have your established group, a band of friends who’ve known you for years, and their expectations of you are set in stone. Yelena, on the other hand, moves in different circles. With her distinctive style and entourage of artsy friends, they occupy spaces you rarely venture into.

Moreover, your schedules hardly ever line up. While you’re leaving for advanced courses or student council meetings, she's typically heading to the arts wing for a drama club rehearsal or a literature symposium. Those stolen moments in the library or quick nods across the cafeteria become your only connection, otherwise you’d be total strangers from an outsider’s perspective.

One day, during lunch, your friends jokingly mention the budding ‘friendship’ with Yelena. “So, tutoring the sister now? How's that going?” one of them teases. You just smile and shrug it off, but you can't help but feel a pinch of guilt for not integrating Yelena more into your world.

There are also times when Yelena's friends shoot curious glances your way, probably wondering about the nature of your relationship with her. There are whispers, but you both ignore them, focusing on the close friendship you've built, especially with Natasha gone.

It’s your senior year, and you’re just starting to see just how much you and Yelena have in common. 

You can't help but wish you'd realized this earlier, especially since you'll be heading to New York University next year.

X

One night, after you both finish watching “Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind” in your room, Yelena glances over at you, a kernel of popcorn held precariously between her lips.

“Have you ever been in love?”

You almost choke on your soda, before recovering to shrug and say, “I don’t think so.” You watch as Yelena smirks and slowly chews on the popcorn before licking her lips, your eyes following the movement.

“Got a crush on anyone, then?”

The word 'crush' makes your heart race for reasons you’re still unaware of. You find yourself briefly lost in the depths of her green eyes, and there's something about the way her lips curl that grabs your attention. Shaking your head subtly, you rally your thoughts.

“What about you?” you counter, turning the question back on her in an attempt to keep the spotlight away from you. “Ever been in love?”

Yelena pauses, a playful glint appearing in her eyes. She drags out the silence, clearly enjoying the suspense she's creating. “Maybe,” she finally admits with a sly smile.

That simple word instantly has your undivided attention. “Who is it?”

She bites her lip, a move that draws your gaze and makes your heart beat a tad faster. “It's a secret,” she says teasingly.

“Do I know them?”

Instead of answering, she just gives you a mischievous smile and, in a swift move, pulls the covers over herself, hiding underneath. You can hear her giggling, leaving you with more questions than answers.

You chuckle, grabbing a flashlight from your bedside table and diving under the covers alongside her, illuminating both your faces with its soft glow. The confined space brings you closer, close enough to notice the details of her face and the nervous twinkle in her eyes.

“Is it Jeremy?” you ask hesitantly, the guilt from the incident at the party still weighing on you. “I'm so sorry about that night. I never should've–”

“No, it’s not him,” she cuts you off, shaking her head emphatically, her hand lightly touching your arm. “It’s someone else... someone I've felt this way about for a while. For a long time, just loving them from a distance felt enough. But now...” Yelena trails off, her eyes searching yours, for something that might hint that you know who she is talking about. 

That she’s talking about you. 

“...now I’m not so sure it is,” she quietly finishes. 

But your eyes give away your confusion, showing her you can't quite pinpoint who she's referring to. Moreso, when you say, “I hate that they’re making you sad.”

“It’s complicated,” Yelena says. “Sure, the thought of her not feeling the same way stings, but she brings me so much joy. The happiness she offers is greater than the pain. That has to mean something, right?”

“She?”

Yelena freezes at her slip-up. 

“Yes... she,” Yelena drawls. She takes a deep breath, steeling herself. “Nat doesn’t know. I haven't exactly been open about it. Not with anyone, really.”

You shift closer to her, ensuring she feels your presence and support. “Hey, I'm really honored you trust me with this. You never have to change or hide who you are around me. I love you just the way you are.”

She turns her head, her expression simultaneously hopeful and uncertain. “You love me?”

Without hesitation, you nod. “Of course. Yelena, between you, Nat, and my mom, you're the most important people in my life. I've always felt that way.”

She bites her lip, absorbing your words. “Oh,” is all she manages initially. The silence stretches between the two of you, heavy with something you both can’t put a name to. Then, in a voice so soft you almost miss it, she murmurs, “I love you too.”

You weren’t expecting to feel anything differently when she says it back, but you do–

So much, that you consciously maintain a safe distance between your bodies as you both eventually fall asleep.

XI

Days go by, and you start seeing Yelena differently. 

Little things about her catch your eye, like how the sun hits her hair or the way she laughs. You find yourself thinking about her more often than not, even during lectures. 

One afternoon, you're studying together, and you realize you've been staring at the way she holds her pen for far too long. There's a song playing in the background, its lyrics vague and unimportant, but you can't help thinking how it's something she'd love.

But it’s those quiet nights, when the world is asleep, that your thoughts become more personal, more intimate. On one of these nights, as you’re ensnared in those thoughts, warmth spreading all over your body, your phone suddenly rings.

It’s Yelena. Hastily, you pull your hand away from your soaked underwear and try to sound casual as she asks you about a school project that you’ve tackled before. You can’t help but notice how huskier her voice has gotten recently, and as soon as the call ends, you’re shuffling your pants down your legs and fucking yourself with two fingers, coming to the name of your best friend’s sister on your lips.

What follows after is a deep-seated shame. You bury your face into your pillow, trying to muffle the self-reproach that threatens to spill over. 

Now, each time your mind drifts to Yelena, there's a budding warmth, but it's quickly doused by guilt and the looming shadow of Natasha. The trepidation of how she might react to your burgeoning feelings for her younger sister haunts your every thought. Would she see it as a betrayal? As you, taking advantage of Yelena? Or would she understand that feelings, often unexpected and inconvenient, have a way of creeping in?

Days turn into weeks, and you do your best to suppress these emotions, to lock them away and throw away the key. But they have a pesky way of resurfacing when you least expect them to, making ordinary interactions with Yelena charged with a tension you can't shake off.

It's during one such interaction, when you're helping Yelena with a school project at her house, that she catches you staring a moment too long. Her eyebrows knit in confusion, and for a second, you think she's going to question you. But she doesn't, and you're left wondering if she feels it too. Feels a surge of current coursing through her body at any point of contact between your bodies.

XII

The air in Montauk is usually so soothing, but not today. 

Walking through the front door, you immediately notice the empty spaces, corners that were once filled with your father’s belongings. Bewilderment strikes you first. Your eyes dart around the room, trying to take in the enormity of the situation. His jackets are no longer on the hook, his books absent from the shelf. That worn-out armchair where he used to sit with a cup of coffee every morning is no longer there.

The sound of paper crackling captures your attention, and you follow it to the backyard. Your heart plummets when you see your mom tossing pictures into a growing flame. It feels as if time has stopped, as you watch memories being consumed by fire. Each photo that curls, blackens, and disintegrates feels like a piece of your heart being pulled apart.

A scream of anguish and rage leaves your mouth before you can think.

 “What are you doing?!” you shout, rushing forward to snatch what remains of the photos. But the damage has been done.

Your mother's face is a complex mosaic of pain, anger, and a little lunacy. “It's time,” she retorts, her voice brittle but resolute. “Time to move on.”

“How could you?” Your voice breaks, kicking the bench where your father used to lounge in, enjoying a cup of coffee.

Feeling the walls of your house closing in on you, you snatch a small box of photos, the only things that haven't met the flames yet, and storm out.

XIII

The Romanoffs’ residence automatically becomes your refuge.

You don’t even knock, you just barge in, your breaths coming fast, tears streaming down your face. It doesn't take Yelena long to figure out that something's wrong, and she envelops you in a warm, solid embrace.

Her fingers run through your hair soothingly, her voice a gentle murmur in your ear. “It’s okay, let it out,” she whispers, guiding you down the hallway towards her bedroom. Posters of classic horror films adorn her walls, giving the space a uniquely edgy feel. By the side, a stack of books teeters precariously, evidence of her voracious reading habits and an already overflowing bookshelf. Now that you've spent more time in it over the past few months, Yelena's room feels even more familiar than Natasha's ever did.

Before you know it, you're lying down, with Yelena sitting beside you, her hand never leaving yours. Overwhelmed and exhausted, sleep claims you amidst your tears.

Later in the night, you’re woken up by the clinking of a tray. Blinking your eyes open, you see Yelena by your side. She’s holding a plate of something warm and there's a pill and a glass of water on the tray beside her.

“Figured you’d have a killer headache from all that crying,” she says, handing over the pill. Her voice is soft, teasing even, trying to inject some lightness into the heavy atmosphere.

“You made dinner?” Your voice is a croaky whisper.

“Didn't want you starving on me,” she says, shrugging with a smile before setting the tray on the night table beside you. 

And then she starts to ramble, her cheeks tinged pink with embarrassment, “I really don't know how to cook, so I just tried frying some spam. Then I ended up burning one side. I swear, every time I try to cook, I just—”

But you're barely hearing her. In that moment, it hits you just how much she's wormed her way into your heart. In an impulsive moment, powered by emotions running high, you reach out, cupping her face in your hands, and pull her towards you.

The kiss is a sweet, brief meeting of lips, but in that fleeting moment, it communicates more than words ever could. When you pull back, the air between you is thick and your lips are tingling and all you can think about is how much you want to lean in and kiss her again. Yelena's eyes search yours, both of you realizing that things may never be the same again.

Yelena seems to be processing, her green eyes wide and a little unfocused. The softness of her lips still lingers on yours, and the magnitude of what just happened starts to sink in. 

Panic flares in your chest.

“I... I need to go,” you stammer, your mind racing for a reasonable excuse. You can't stay, not now. Not with the desire to push her down the bed looming over your head.

Before she can say anything, before she can even move, you're out of the room, leaving behind a dazed Yelena, clutching the tray she had brought for you, the scent of the burnt Spam still lingering in the room.

XIV

You avoid Yelena at all costs.

For the first three days, your phone buzzes constantly with her calls and texts, and you muster the will to ignore every single one.

At school, you find yourself darting through hallways and taking longer, circuitous routes just to dodge the places where you might bump into her. The hangout spots you both frequented over the past months—the tiny café by the library, the secret alcove behind the gym—are now places you avoid like the plague.

You switch up your post-school routine, taking a completely different path home, even if it means walking an extra mile. Friends begin to notice the lengths you're going to just to not see her and they shoot you questioning looks, but you shrug them off, not ready to talk about it.

There's even a wild, desperate thought about dropping out of school. But every time it comes to the forefront of your mind, you push it away. You're in your senior year; leaving now would mean throwing away all the work you've put in. Plus, you're on the cusp of moving away, starting anew. You just need to endure a little longer.

Every day feels heavier. On one hand, you want to duck and dodge, stay out of Yelena's path until you've figured what it means for you, for her, for your friendship with Natasha. On the other, you're missing her like crazy. More than once, you've caught yourself about to call or text her, only to stop, unsure and overwhelmed. 

And when she stops calling and texting, every time your phone lights up with a notification, a part of you wishes it's her, another hopes it isn't.

And the worst part? The gnawing feeling inside that tells you that the longer you avoid her, the greater the risk of losing her for good. And you're not ready for that. Not by a long shot.

XV

You hide in your room. No one is answering because your mother is still at work, so you just listen to Yelena ringing the doorbell until it stops. You press your ear against the door of your room, straining to hear any signs of movement from downstairs. But there's no one.

And when the ringing stops–for a good ten seconds–you let out a quiet sigh of relief. But just as that thought that she’s given up crosses your mind, there's a sudden thud against your window. Jumping, you pull back the curtain a tad and spot Yelena, a frown carved deep on her face, a couple of pebbles in her hand.

“Come face me, you coward!” she yells, making you wince.

Flustered, you motion frantically for her to head to the front door. After making sure you’re decent enough to receive her, you take a deep breath and head downstairs.

When you open the door, Yelena stands there, eyes boring into you. She’s clearly angry and frustrated, and regardless of those, she still manages to take your breath away.

Yelena steps closer, into the little space you’ve unconsciously provided by opening the door, narrowing the gap between the two of you. Her proximity makes it difficult to think clearly. 

“Why did you run that night?” she asks pointedly, the confusion and hurt undeniable in the way her voice thickens and shakes. “And why have you been avoiding me ever since?”

You look down at your feet as she tries to chase your line of sight. “It's not that I don't want to be around you, Yelena,” you start. “In fact, I want to be around you all the time.”

Yelena’s breath hitches at that. She frowns, trying to decipher your meaning. “So, what’s the problem?”

You muster the courage to lift your chin and finally meet her gaze. “I like you. A lot. So much, in fact, that I'm terrified of what could happen next. I'm scared I won't be able to hold back from falling in love with you.”

She blinks, taking in your confession. “You're such a stupid idiot,” she mutters, more to herself than to you.

“You know those are synonyms, right?” you retort, trying to inject some levity into conversation. 

She arches an eyebrow, “Dense.”

“That's just another synonym,” you mumble, meeting her challenging stare.

But before you can come up with another witty retort, she closes the gap between you two, whispering, “Shut up and kiss me.”

XVI

It’s getting harder and harder to control yourself around Yelena. Being around her has started to feel like you're navigating a minefield.

There's that time you're lounging in her bedroom, reading a book while she goes to shower. The sound of water running and the muffled hum of her voice singing a familiar tune combine to become your favorite music. The soft sheets of her bed, the faint scent of her on the pillow next to you, and the intimate setting conspire against your self-control. You have to consciously remind yourself to breathe evenly, to focus on the words in front of you, and not on the vision of Yelena in the shower.

Even small moments become loaded. Like when she's talking to you, and she tilts her head, exposing the soft curve of her neck. The light catches on her skin just right, and all you can think of is how it would feel under your lips. How she might shiver at your touch, how the pulse beating beneath her skin might race under your caresses.

Then there's the way she's been touching you more. A brush of her fingers, lingering hugs, those almost-too-close moments that send shivers down your spine. It feels like she’s playing a game, seeing how far she can push before you crack.

The dreams aren’t helping either. Some nights they’re tender, others they’re, well, a bit more heated. Waking up from them leaves you flushed and out of sorts.

One balmy afternoon, as the sun's rays filter through the slits of your bedroom curtains, the two of you find yourselves tangled once again. Suddenly, as you're catching your breath, Yelena pulls back slightly, looking deeply into your eyes, the desire evident. “I want you,” she whispers breathlessly, her voice shaking with want.

You freeze, her words threatening to make you combust. “Yelena,” you start, throat dry, “I don't think we should. Natasha doesn't even know about...this.”

She scoffs, rolling her eyes with an exasperated sigh. “This isn't on us. Natasha's off at some super-secretive training camp. How are we supposed to tell her?”

You try a different approach. “You’re sixtee–”

“You’re seventeen,” she cuts you off quickly.

You smile softly at the pout forming on her lips. “I’m turning eighteen next week.”

“Semantics,” Yelena argues.

Your chest tightens, and you finally admit, “There's something else. I've... I've never been with anyone like that before.”

To your surprise, Yelena's confident demeanor falters. She looks away, biting her lip, “Me neither.”

Your eyes widen. “But... Jeremy?”

She looks away, biting her lip. “That night you punched him? That night, it's supposed to happen. But…” She takes a deep breath, her eyes searching yours. “All I can think of is you being outside that room. I can't do it. I've always... I've always wanted it to be you.”

The fact that she hasn’t been with anyone makes you even more nervous. You want her first time to be memorable and good.

“Yelena, uhm,” you start, fidgeting under her gaze. “I have no idea what to do.”

Her thumb brushes over the back of your hand, a soothing gesture. “Neither do I. But that's okay. We have each other.”

“And if we mess up?”

She smirks a little, that playful glint returning to her eyes. “Then we mess up together.”

XVII

It’s a mess, but neither of you would call it ‘messing up’.

When you’ve removed the final piece of clothing off her body, you find yourself staring at the juncture between her legs, your mouth watering at the sight of it.

It’s a beautiful mess.

Yelena shifts slightly, drawing your attention back to her face. Those brilliant eyes of hers are watching you, filled with understanding and the smallest hint of amusement. “First time seeing one up close?” she teases gently, breaking the tension.

Your cheeks warm, but you don’t look away. “You could say that.”

She reaches out, her fingers gently lifting your chin, guiding you to meet her gaze. “It's okay. Remember? We're learning together.”

You nod, kissing her fingers before she lets go of your chin. 

“But please, touch me already,” Yelena husks out, arching her back and lifting her hips closer to your face in offering. “You’re driving me crazy.”

With that, you let go of your reservations, letting instinct take over. 

But you take your time.

You slide your hands under her buttocks, palming her cheeks and keeping her place just in case. The heady scent of her arousal draws you in closer, a fresh wave of wetness collecting between your own thighs. 

Tentatively, you stick your tongue out to touch its tip against the hood of her clit. The sharp intake of Yelena's breath and her subtle tremor give away her anticipation, making the corners of your mouth lift in a fleeting smile. It’s such a small action, and you can’t believe how responsive and needy she’s become.

“God, you're perfect,” you murmur, before flattening your tongue against her core and licking the entire length of her. Your eyes fall shut the moment you taste Yelena for the first time. She tastes as good as she smells, and you can’t help but repeat the act again and again. Each pass draws a deeper reaction from her, coaxing more wetness to cover the lower half of your face. As Yelena's responses intensify, you're grateful for your foresight in keeping her grounded, especially when she instinctively tries to pull away from the overwhelming sensations you're giving her. 

Opening your eyes, you’re met with the most gorgeous sight of Yelena–her fingers clutch at the pillows, pulling them close, while her body arches and writhes–a pure picture of ecstasy. 

Emboldened by her reactions, you focus your attention on her clit, drawing the sensitive nub into your mouth, letting a gentle suction build. The sound Yelena makes is sharp and unguarded, her fingers weaving into your hair, pulling you closer, urging you closer to her heat. 

The flush on Yelena's face intensifies, painting a path from her cheeks to her collarbone as you continue your ministrations. The squelching sounds created by your eager mouth intermingle with her breathy moans, the rustle of the sheets beneath, and your own low sounds of appreciation.

Sensing her impending climax, you momentarily cease the gentle suction, prompting a desperate plea from Yelena, “Please…” But before she can voice her needs, you plunge back in, your tongue swirling insistently around her sensitive nub.

With a final, muffled cry into the pillows, Yelena's body convulses, waves of pleasure coursing through her. You ease your movements, allowing her to ride out the aftershocks of her climax.

Gradually, Yelena's breathing steadies. The vibrant flush of arousal is gradually replaced by a more relaxed hue. Still nestled between her thighs, you place gentle kisses on her inner legs, giving her time to come down from her euphoric high.

Her fingers, previously tangled in your hair, begin to relax, though she doesn’t release you entirely. Instead, they trace delicate patterns along the nape of your neck and your shoulders. A contented sigh escapes her, and you can feel her legs relaxing around you, the earlier tension now but a memory.

Taking this as your cue, you wipe your mouth and chin and gently climb up, situating yourself beside her, pulling her into a close embrace. Her head rests against your chest, listening to the thud of your heart, which beats just as erratically as hers.

“You okay?” you ask softly, brushing stray strands of hair from her face.

She nods, her lips curving into a small, satisfied smile. “More than okay,” she murmurs, snuggling closer. “Thank you.”

You both lay there in comfortable silence, enjoying the warmth of each other's presence. The outside world feels distant, irrelevant. 

After what feels like hours but is probably just minutes, Yelena tilts her head up to meet your gaze, her eyes turning a darker shade of green again. 

“My turn,” she whispers, her hands already exploring.

A soft chuckle escapes your lips as you arch an eyebrow, the sudden role reversal causing a thrill of anticipation to snake through you. “Impatient, are we?" you tease, the hint of a smirk playing on your lips.

Yelena grins, her fingers deftly tracing a path along your collarbone, down your chest, eliciting a shiver from you. “Maybe I've just learned from the best,” she counters playfully, pressing her lips briefly against your neck.

She doesn't rush, taking her time, soaking in every one of your reactions. The softest of kisses to the inside of your wrist has you inhaling sharply. Yelena watches, a glint of mischief in her eyes, before repeating the action, this time lingering longer. Each delicate press of her lips feels like a brand, and you're aware of the rising heat that courses through your body, centered where you want her most.

The press of her thumb against your pulse point, just beneath your jawline, elicits an unexpected moan from your lips. She chuckles softly, clearly pleased with the discovery. “Found a new spot, did I?” Yelena whispers, her voice husky.

Your response is lost as her mouth travels down, her tongue painting a trail down your collarbone, causing you to arch into her touch. “Yelena…” your voice is a breathy plea, laced with desperation.

Her fingers splay across your abdomen, her touch light, almost ticklish. It's a stark contrast to the firm press of her lips against the soft flesh of your thigh. Your hands find her hair, urging her closer, but Yelena pulls away, teasing.

Her eyes meet yours, filled with a playful defiance. “Patience,” she chides, her hot breath against your skin sending another shiver down your spine.

The build-up is excruciating, driving you to your limits.

When her lips finally meet the wetness between your thighs, the sensation is electric. She starts by laying a series of soft kisses there, each one making your hips jerk slightly, seeking more of her. Her tongue dips into you, tasting, exploring, teasing.

Her fingers join in, sliding through your wetness, gathering it before pressing into you. The combined sensation of her fingers moving inside while her mouth focuses on your clit is almost too much to bear. The slick sounds of her mouth on you, combined with the rhythmic thrusting of her fingers, fills the room. The dampness between your legs grows with each pull and push, with every flick and suck she delivers.

As Yelena works her magic, she surprises you by letting her fingers wander further back, teasing the rim of your other hole. The unexpected sensation causes you to gasp sharply, eyes widening in surprise and a new sort of arousal.

“Trust me?” she murmurs against your heated skin, her voice a low rumble that sends another jolt of pleasure through you.

All you can do is nod, your usual articulateness lost to the whirlwind of sensation. With the slickness from your arousal aiding her, Yelena gently applies pressure there, testing, probing, adding a new layer to the pleasure. The combination of her mouth, fingers inside you, and this new, intimate exploration has you spiraling.

Your fingers clutch her head, guiding her, even as your back arches, pushing yourself further into her touch. Yelena, sensing your nearness to the edge, doubles her efforts. The world blurs out, every nerve ending centered on the wet slide of her fingers and the firm, insistent press of her mouth against your most sensitive spot. With a final cry, you come around Yelena’s fingers, leaving you trembling, soaked, and sated beneath her.

For a moment, there's nothing but the two of you—the heavy breaths, the shared warmth, and the intoxicating scent of your combined arousal.

Then, with a tantalizing slowness, Yelena extracts her fingers from within you. You can feel their absence keenly, the cool air hitting the warmth they've just left behind. As she brings her fingers to her face, the wetness on them catches the dim light, making your heart race even faster.

Her eyes, dark with desire, lock onto yours. You're held captive by that gaze, and then with a smirk, she slides her fingers into her mouth, sucking on them deeply, audibly. The sound, the sight of it, is almost too much.

“Yum,” she murmurs, her voice dripping with mischief and satisfaction. The single word breaks the spell, sending another jolt of heat through you. 

You don't even get a moment to process her bold move because, in the next heartbeat, you're overcome with a renewed surge of desire. Drawing Yelena closer, you can feel the slick heat of her pressing against you, the intimate wetness of your arousal mingling together.

The sensation of her clit, swollen and sensitive, rubbing against yours elicits deep, guttural moans from both of you. Your hands grasp her hips, guiding and urging her into a rhythm that sends sparks of pleasure ricocheting through your body. The room is filled with the sounds of skin on skin, punctuated by the wet slide of your clits moving together, and the heady scent of sex.

Yelena's eyes, half-lidded and wild, fixate on yours, capturing every reaction, every moan that slips past your parted lips. Her fingers dig into your hips, anchoring herself to you, as your bodies grind together, lost in wild abandon. 

Your hands cradle Yelena's face, bringing her mouth to yours. As your lips meet, the kiss is all-consuming—a frenzied mix of passion and urgency, the taste of you still on her tongue.

Your hips falter, and you can't hold back the whimper that escapes when you feel that familiar sensation above your groin. The sensation of Yelena's body moving against yours, combined with the feel of her lips and the taste of her mouth, pushes you closer and closer to the brink.

Your focus narrows to the point where the only thing that matters is the tantalizing friction between the two of you. Yelena's rhythm matches yours, her hips moving urgently against your own. 

“God... don't stop,” Yelena breathes into your ear, her voice shaky with need.

Your reply is caught by a moan as the coil in your belly tightens even more, threatening to snap. “Yelena…” you manage, voice raspy and broken.

Suddenly, her teeth bite down into your shoulder, making you gasp. “Sorry,” she mumbles against your skin, but you can hear the edge of ecstasy in her voice.

“It's okay,” you manage, voice strained with pleasure. “Feels... good.”

Yelena's hips grind unevenly against yours, the slickness between you both growing with each movement. Every thrust sends ripples of pleasure through you both, wetness mixing and coating your inner thighs, creating a deliciously slippery friction. You can feel the warmth of her arousal as it mingles with your own, the combined sensation dizzying.

“God... can you feel that?” Yelena gasps, her voice ragged and desperate.

“Yes,” you breathe, nearly overwhelmed by the sensation. The raw intensity of the moment, the feeling of her wetness against yours, is almost too much to bear.

“I'm close,” she warns, her voice strained.

“Fuck, me too,” you whisper back, lost in the sensation.

Suddenly, Yelena's body stiffens, her muffled cry against your shoulder sending vibrations straight to your core. The feeling of her release, warm and wet against you, combined with the bite of pain from her teeth, triggers your own climax. Your bodies shake together, still feeling the rush of pleasure even after the most intense moments have passed.

The room falls silent except for the sounds of your labored breaths and the gentle rustling of sheets. The rawness of the moment makes your skin tingle, and you become acutely aware of the warm stickiness between your thighs and the pulsating ache where Yelena had left her mark on your shoulder.

She pulls back slightly, her green eyes, now softened, searching yours. The corners of her lips tug upwards in a tender, adoring smile. “That was…”

“...unreal,” you finish, still catching your breath.

She chuckles lightly, shifting her weight to lie beside you. “Yeah, I didn't think... I mean, I hoped, but that was…”

“Beyond words,” you murmur, pulling her closer until she’s resting on top of you.

You both lay there for a moment, bodies intertwined, enjoying the afterglow. Yelena reaches out to caress the bite mark she left, a look of concern crossing her features. “Did I hurt you?” she murmurs, lips brushing against the reddened skin.

You wince slightly at her touch but shake your head. “It’ll bruise, but it's okay. Kind of like it, actually,” you say with a sly grin, making her laugh.

She leans down, pressing a gentle kiss on the bite mark, her lips lingering against your skin. “Sorry, I got carried away,” she mumbles against your shoulder.

“You have nothing to apologize for,” you reassure her, tilting her chin up to capture her lips in a soft, languid kiss. “But maybe we should clean up a bit.”

She nods in agreement, and the two of you untangle yourselves from the sheets. The air feels cooler against your flushed skin as you help each other clean up, using damp cloths to wipe away the evidence of your shared passion.

Afterward, Yelena snuggles close, her head resting on your chest, listening to your heartbeat. 

You drape an arm over her, fingers absentmindedly playing with her hair. “I’m glad it was with you,” you whisper, pressing a kiss on the top of her head.

“I love you,” she says, tightening her grip around you. Those three words nearly bring tears to your eyes as a surge of affection for the girl in your arms envelops you.

“I love you too.”

XVIII

You want it to last forever.

More than exploring each other’s bodies nearly every night, you want each moment spent with Yelena to last forever. You might think it's too soon, but honestly, it feels like you've known her forever. 

She’s it.

She’s the one.

Time, however, has its own pace. Before you know it, you and Yelena are receiving an email from Natasha herself that she will be coming home in two weeks. You can't help but feel a growing tension, a deadline looming over your idyllic world. But at the same time, you’re excited to have your best friend back.

One evening, as you both lay in bed, the soft glow from the streetlights outside illuminating the room, you broach the subject. 

“When Nat comes back,” you start, tracing patterns on Yelena's arm, “I want to make us official. Tell her about us.”

Yelena's gaze meets yours, and though she nods, there's a hesitation in her eyes, a shadow of doubt. “Of course,” she replies, but her voice lacks the enthusiasm you'd hoped for. But for now, you pull her close, not wanting to read much into things especially with how perfect the past few months have been.

XIX

The atmosphere feels different since Natasha’s unexpected return. 

A few days have passed, but the three of you continue to circle around each other, resembling planets in an unsure orbit. Yelena and Natasha seem wrapped up in their own reunion, while you tread carefully, waiting for the right moment to bring up your relationship with Yelena.

This evening, you find your opening. Yelena has stepped out, leaving you and Natasha alone in the living room, sitting at opposite ends of the couch. 

“Has Yelena told you anything recently?” you finally break the silence, your voice betraying a hint of nervousness. 

Natasha tilts her head, narrowing her eyes slightly. “What do you mean?”

“Did she mention something big? I mean… you were gone for quite some time and I understand if you’re shocked, but–”

“Uh, yeah, she did mention something,” Natasha interjects softly. “She got accepted to a program in Leeds.”

The world seems to tilt off its axis. Leeds?

“What?” you ask, failing to keep your voice down.

This is news to you. What’s going on?

“She’s leaving in ten days,” Natasha continues, looking at you curiously. “You didn’t know?”

XX

You only realize Yelena's been distancing herself when you hear about Leeds.

Even though you still see her every day, she's managed to avoid spending time alone with you. Every time the topic of informing Natasha about your relationship comes up, she finds an excuse to divert or leave. Now, she consistently includes Natasha in your plans, turning what were once dates into casual hangouts.

As school ends one afternoon, you spot Yelena's familiar figure quickly exiting the building, her pace hurried, as though trying to escape. It's evident she's avoiding running into you on her way home. You remember the desperation that had led you to skip your last class, just so you could finally confront her.

Taking a deep breath, you quickly catch up to her. 

“Yelena!” you call out. 

She pauses, her shoulders tensing, and then slowly turns to face you. There's a hesitance in her eyes, but you're determined.

“Why Leeds?” you blurt out, all your emotions hinging on that single question.

She exhales sharply, looking as if she's been cornered, her gaze darting around. “I... I applied a while ago. Before everything between us started.”

Your heart sinks. “Were you planning on just disappearing without saying anything?”

Yelena's eyes shimmer with unshed tears. “I was scared,” she admits. “I didn't know how to tell you.”

“That's not fair,” you say, your voice choked. 

She nods, biting her lip. “I know. I'm sorry.”

“I just...when did you apply?” you ask, trying to make sense of the timeline in your head.

“After Natasha told me about her own plans,” Yelena whispers. That was before you saw her in this new, intimate way, before everything between you two began. “I thought it would be best if I too had something to focus on.”

Your eyebrows furrow in confusion. “So you applied because Natasha was leaving? Why didn’t you tell me? We could have figured something out together.”

She sighs, her gaze drifting downwards. “It was a spontaneous decision, a way to cope with the changes, I guess. And then, you and I happened... It all went too fast. Before I knew it, I was accepted and suddenly, telling you became the hardest thing to do.”

The realization stings. All those moments, all those memories, and all the while, there was this looming secret she hadn't shared. “So,” you mutter, a tremor in your voice. “This was all just... a distraction for you?”

Yelena's eyes snap up, wide and filled with panic. “No! Never! It wasn't like that at all. What we had, what we shared, it was real for me. More real than anything I've ever felt.”

Your eyes blur as tears gather around your eyes. “Then why Leeds? Why not tell me? Why not give us a chance?”

You find yourself repeating the questions, hoping that if said enough, they might somehow reshape the truth, making it easier for you to accept and move on.

“I didn't want to put you in that position," she confesses, her voice breaking. “To make you choose or feel tied down. I love you too much for that.”

You exhale deeply, gritting your teeth in order to hold yourself together. “Yelena, love also means being honest and facing challenges together."

“I know,” she whispers, unable to hold back her own tears. “I'm so sorry.”

The world around you seems to blur. “So, is this it? Are we just... done?”

She hesitates for a moment, searching your eyes for understanding. “I don’t want to hold you back, and I need to focus on this new chapter. It wouldn’t be fair to either of us.”

Nodding slowly, you muster the strength to say, “Goodbye, Yelena.”

XXI

For several days, your room's four walls become your entire world. Natasha, sensing something amiss, checks on you with growing concern. When she questions your seclusion, you blame it on a virus, claiming it's safer for you to stay isolated. But the truth is, your heart is shattered, and you can't bring yourself to share the painful reality with your closest friend.

At first, Yelena's messages are filled with apologies, each one dripping with regret. But as the days go by, her tone shifts. There's worry evident in the string of texts that asks if you're okay, questions about your health, pleas for just one response.

Then, as silence from your end persists, the messages take on an edge. “Is this really how you want to handle things?” one of them reads. “After everything, you're just going to shut me out completely?”The accusations sting, but you're in so much pain already that it hardly makes a difference.

A particularly scathing text catches your eye one evening: “I thought we meant more to each other. Is this really how you want us to end?”

The screen blurs in front of you as tears threaten, leaving you torn between reaching out and honoring the goodbye you've already given.

XXII

Seven long days of silence later, something shifts within you. 

Distance can't be an end. You can't let it. You decide it's time to act, to see Yelena, to tell her that you’re willing to put in the work despite the long distance.

Pulling on a jacket, you make your way to her house. Your mind races, framing and reframing the words you want to say, the assurances you want to give, the hope you want to share.

As you approach the house, you immediately notice the absence of music from the living room. Yelena always ensured a playlist was playing in the background, a comforting constant whenever they were home. That familiar comfort is missing now, replaced by an unsettling silence. A knot of unease forms in your stomach. You knock, hoping against hope.

The door opens, and there stands Natasha, mildly surprised to find you at her doorstep. 

“Hey! Wasn't expecting you today,” she greets with a lightness. “You here for Yelena?”

You nod, trying to find your voice. "Yeah, I wanted to talk to her."

A puzzled look crosses Natasha's face. “Oh, she said she talked to you a couple of days ago. I thought... Anyway, she took an earlier flight this morning. I assumed she told you?”

The ground seems to fall away beneath you. You manage a weak smile, masking the wave of emotions threatening to overwhelm you. “I must've missed that. Thanks, Natasha. Maybe I’ll just text her…I think I left something on at home. Better head back.”

You retreat before Natasha can ask any more questions, literally running out of the house before you fall apart in front of her.

Reaching your place, you shut the door behind you, leaning against it as if trying to barricade yourself from the outside world. Your phone buzzes with a message notification. It's from Yelena: 

I'm sorry.

#yelena belova x reader #yelena belova imagine #yelena belova x you #yelena belova #yelena belova fanfiction #marvel #marvel wlw #my fics #my writing #IFISS #ILGOSS #natasha romanof #friends to lovers #smut #angst #yelena x reader #yelena x female reader

[mybutcheredtongue]

I'll Love You 'til the Grass Around My Gravestone is Deceased

harry potter timeline sirius black x fem!reader

CHAPTER THIRTEEN (see full series here)

1993

The school year draws to a close, with the school still chattering away about Sirius. You spend it relatively simply, teaching the last of your classes and then finally handing out end-of-year exam results. You're glad to see Hermione gets an almost perfect score — and Ron and Harry do...well, they do okay. You make a mental note to start buckling down on their incessant chatting during class.

You also spend it full of worries. Your every waking moment seems to be consumed with thoughts about Sirius. He's out there, all alone, on the run — you can't imagine how he's feeling right now. It ties knots in your stomach. You just want to grab and hold him, caress his soft, smooth skin, run your hands through his silky curls —

You miss him.

You sit in your compartment on the Hogwarts Express, flicking through the latest edition of The Quibbler. It's quite a unique little publication, very quirky. Luna Lovegood, one of your second years — her dad is the editor, so you decided to pick up the magazine after she recommended it to you once.

You're currently skim-reading a very in-depth article about some sort of creature called an 'epippinpor', when the door to your compartment slides open and Harry pokes his head inside.

"Harry!" you greet. "Need something?"

He holds out a folded piece of parchment, smiling. "Padfoot."

You take the parchment from him as he leaves, closing the door again. You beam excitedly, throwing down The Quibbler and pulling the parchment into your lap. Dubh gets up and starts to sniff the parchment curiously and you giggle, full of giddiness like you're a young teenager again.

My darling love,

I hope you get this before you've left Hogwarts, otherwise it may be quite some time before this letter reaches you. I decided to put your letter in with Harry's, because I'm sure your post is being monitored.

Buckbeak and I are in hiding, so you don't need to worry. I have so many questions to ask you, so many things to tell...I guess they'll just have to wait. I miss you, my love, just like you miss the stars during the daytime.

I hope I haven't lost my romantic flair.

Also, you're a professor now? Very professional, Professor Black. I suppose it does have a pretty sweet ring to it. And Astronomy, too? I'm still your favourite star, right?

You snort, rolling your eyes. Typical. You can just imagine his face when he wrote that: signature smirk, maybe a wink.

Can I get a kiss for that when we reunite again?

Typical!

I wish I could be with you this summer. At our home. Also...do you have a cat? I thought I saw you with a cat. Come on, love, we are obviously a dog home!

I miss you so much. I miss your voice, your warmth, your beautiful face, your kisses. Especially the last one. It's not easy to go twelve years without a single kiss...even if the Dementors offered me several. I love you with all of my heart. If you need me for anything, Harry's owl will find me. All my love, Sirius. P.S. I love you. I can't wait to see you again.

You smile at the letter, eyes tracing the edges of his scratchy handwriting. Your stomach is full of fluttering butterflies and it really does feel like you're a schoolgirl again. You re-read the letter several times, smiling especially wide when he says he loves you or compliments you.

No, Sirius. You didn't lose your romantic flair. Not one bit.

You reach out to pet Dubh, still holding the letter in your hand.

Maybe next year will be a little different.

⁠✧⁠*⁠。✧⁠*⁠。

"Here you go," you say, handing Remus his cup of tea. He accepts it, careful not to spill a drop, and gives you a grateful smile.

"Thanks."

"So, any news?" You ask, pulling your legs up onto the couch and folding them in beside you as you look at the man in front of you. You're sitting in your living room, a wonderfully cosy little room, warmed by soft rays of August sunshine. There's green plants dotted around, and the walls have photos and beautiful paintings decorating it. There's even a few of Remus' original paintings up there!

One big hobby of Remus' is painting, though he is very secretive about it. He paints beautiful landscapes and still-lifes...it calms him.

One particular painting catches your eye. You had once asked him to paint you a nice, simple picture of pottery. A jug, a bowl, a plate...just general pottery works. It's quite nice.

Remus shrugs. "Nothing really since last we spoke. How are your parents?"

You stayed with your parents last week. Dubh had been put into Remus' care, as she always is, and she always comes back a little fatter than before because Remus is a big softie.

"They're grand, yeah," you reply with a shrug. "I told them everything that happened and honestly they were pretty nonchalant about it all, you know how they are...Mam thought I was very stressed and made me one of her special herbal teas and honestly, it was amazing. Felt young again."

"You are young," Remus says with a sigh.

"Sure don't feel it," you say bitterly. "Could do with a dose of that special tea every morning."

"So this tea isn't special?" Remus asks, gesturing to the cup in his hand.

"Not at all," you reply with a short chuckle. "I asked her what she puts in it, and she said it was an 'age-old secret only passed down when the last generation has ceased and the next lives on'. She's lying, of course, she's only saying that to be mysterious. I'm beginning to think that it's just the placebo effect."

Remus nods thoughtfully. "I think I'm going to trust your mother's words and say it is an age-old secret."

"Suck up."

He raises his mug and gives you a mocking smile. You sigh.

"And," you continue, "Dad took me to the muggle cinema, and we seen this film called 'Mrs Doubtfire'. Moony, when I tell you I sobbed — Merlin, muggles sure know how to make an emotional impact. I'm beginning to think that truly, wizards aren't better than muggles because they get to have cool films and we don't. It's unfair, really, if you think about it."

"'Mrs Doubtfire'? What was it about?" Remus asks.

"A woman called Mrs Doubtfire, obviously," you say and he rolls his eyes. "But turns out it's not actually a woman, it's this guy whose wife divorced him and can barely see his kids, so he pretends to be their babysitter and puts on a wig and a mask and fake tits and everything — "

"And that made you cry?"

"It was emotional! Then he gets caught and can only see the kids with someone supervising the visits! Isn't that sad, Moony? It's much sadder in the movie."

He raises his eyebrows, humming in weak agreement. "Right."

You scoff, sighing. "Anyway...Quidditch World Cup is coming up! And guess who's going?"

"You? No way, how did you get tickets?" Remus asks in shock.

You grin. "Minerva McGonagall, the gem that she is! Sent me a letter yesterday morning. Said she happened upon two tickets and asked me to go with her."

"I didn't know the two of you were such good friends."

You shrug. "Sometimes it can be a bit odd because she used to be my teacher, y'know — but she's such fun to be around. I mean, I've told you before that we have tea together sometimes."

He nods thoughtfully. "Mhm, yes, I remember."

"Anyway, I'm really looking forward to it! I wish I could bring you with me," you say with a small apologetic smile.

Remus waves you off. "It's a full moon. I daresay I might steal the spotlight off the teams if I attend."

You laugh. "That may be so."

⁠✧⁠*⁠。✧⁠*⁠。

→ all kinds of interaction are appreciated ♡

sorry for the extra-short chapter...just wanted to draw this year to a close. Goblet of fire next!!!

as always, a big thank you to my taglist loves for all their amazing kindness and support:

@wholelottalove05 @izuoyarmin @hyperspeedo @carpe000diem

#sirius black #sirius black x you #sirius black x reader #angst #angst with a happy ending #harry potter #fanfiction #fanfic #the marauders #hp #marauders

[hjparisian]

make a wish- harry j potter x reader

p: harry j potter x reader (she/her pronouns) w: kinda deep, mainly fluffy, not proof read summary: it's (y/n)'s birthday but it doesn't feel like it. she doesn't want to celebrate it as it is a reminder that she's growing up and is getting older. boyfriend harry (and the rest of her friends) are determined to remind her it's still a special day. a/n: its my birthday today and this is based on my own feelings of getting older. sorry for not actively posting as much, i haven't had much motivation but will hopefully get back soon as i have so much planned out including a harry x reader book for a different platform

It was a special day, and no, not Christmas. It was (Y/N)'s birthday. But to (Y/N), it just felt like any other day. As the years keep going by, her birthday just felt less special. With the end of the school year slowly coming, (Y/N) realized that her youth is slipping away, nearing the stages of adulthood but not feeling prepared.

(Y/N) walked into the Great Hall for breakfast, fellow students wishing her a happy birthday as she walked towards the Gryffindor table where she'd eat with the rest of her friends. She began piling some fruit onto her plate when she saw Hermione and Ron sit down in front of her.

"Happy birthday (Y/N)" the two said to her. "I can't believe you're getting older," Ron points out

"Thank you," she said with a sour smile. "Where's Harry?" She asks wanting to divert from the reminder that she's another year older as well as wondering where her boyfriend is.

"He's still getting ready, he overslept a bit," Hermione told the girl.

Right after she said that, the subject in question rushed over to the group, taking a seat next to the birthday girl.

"Sorry I'm a bit late," Harry told his friends as he piles food on his plate. He looks over to his lovely girlfriend and kisses her cheek. "Happy birthday love!"

"Thank you Harry," (Y/N) says.

"How does it feel to be another year older?" asks Harry. "Are you planning on doing something big today? Fred and George could probably get food over to the common room and we can have a big party for you?"

As interesting as it sounds to (Y/N), she really had no plans. The day no longer felt special now that she's getting closer to adulthood. What was the point of celebrating something that no longer makes her excited?

Losing her appetite from these thoughts, she decided to leave, wanting some alone time. "I think don't wanna do anything. I should go now, I need to grab something from my dorm." She quickly left the hall, leaving her half filled plate behind.

Ron looks at her fading figure, slightly confused. "That's kind of odd," he points out. "Is she okay?"

"I hope so," Hermione says. "But she usually isn't like this. She was so excited last year. I'm worried."

Harry was worried too. He always wanted to ensure the happiness of his lover. He had to find out what was clouding (Y/N)'s mind and try to cheer her up.

"What if we throw her a surprise party?" Ron says. "Everyone likes surprises."

"Not everyone enjoys surprises, Ronald," Hermione huffs out. "It isn't a bad idea though. And like Harry said, we can use the twins help. We can invite her friends to the Gryffindor common room. What do you think Harry?"

"It's not a bad idea. But I want to check on her to see if she's alright," He says.

"Well you're going to have to wait until later. Class is going to start soon," Hermione said.

Unfortunately Harry had to wait til after classes to have a proper chat with (Y/N) since all the classes they had together decided to be busy so there was no time for them to chat. Didn't help that in half of them they don't even sit by each other.

The moment classes ended, Harry went to find (Y/N), dragging her to his dorm.

"Harry where are we going?"

"My dorm."

Harry opens the door to his shared room, closing it behind (Y/N). He drops his stuff beside his bed and goes over to his girlfriend and gives her the biggest hug, which she returns.

"Are you okay love? You don't seem excited today." He hears her sigh, cracking open her true emotions. He brings her to his bed to lay down, wrapping his arms around her as she lays her head on his shoulder.

(Y/N) began to speak."I don't know, its just, its kinda of dumb."

"Whatever you're feeling is not dumb (Y/N)," Harry tells her.

(Y/N) could feel the tears trying to build up in her eyes. "Well my birthday just doesn't feel special anymore, it just feels like another day. I feel like it's just a reminder that I'm almost an adult now and I have to start figuring my life out. Graduation is coming closer and closer and after that, we're all going to go chase our dreams and who knows if we will be in contact. I just wish we were still first years exploring Hogwarts for the first time. I miss being a little kid and having no worries. I'm not ready to get older Harry."

Harry shifts his body to face her, and giving her a kiss on her lips before responding.

"(Y/N), it's okay to feel like this. What you're feeling is completely valid. Growing up is scary, but it means new experiences to try. We still have a lot of time. You don't need to grow up yet and you don't have to have your life situated right now. Sirius told me to live in the present. If we spent too much time worrying about the future we will forget to live in the moment." Harry pauses for a second. "I promise you that we will all still be in contact together. Hermione and Ron could never forget you. I could never forget you. If anything, Ron and I already planned to get houses right next to each other so we will always be together."

Harry leans over and opens his bedside table, pulling out a small box and hands it to (Y/N).

"This is one of your gifts. Open it," Harry tells her.

(Y/N) removes the wrapping and opens up the small box. Inside it was a ring. It was simple, but it was beautiful. She puts it on her ring finger. It was a perfect fit.

"It's a promise ring," said Harry. "To prove that I will always be right by your side. That I promise to love and take care of you even after Hogwarts. I see a future with us (Y/N), and I don't plan on letting go of you."

The tears in (Y/N)'s eyes filled up again, but for a happier reason. She wrapped her arms around Harry's neck and pulled him into a big kiss.

"I love you so much Harry," She tells him. "You're the most amazing person ever."

Harry smiles at her. "I love you too (Y/N). Don't make your self grow up yet. You're perfect just how you are."

(Y/N) smiles back at Harry. The one man who validated her feelings, telling her it's okay to feel what she feels, who comforted her. Birthdays don't have to be a reminder that she's getting old, rather, it should be a day to celebrate life. She doesn't have to force herself to be an adult yet. Will these thoughts continue to plague her head from time to time? Yes, but it will all be okay. She just has to remind herself to live in the moment and enjoy life.

"So," (Y/N) began. "You said this was one of my presents. What about the other?"

"Oh we'll come back right here for it." Harry winks at (Y/N) causing her to blush. "But first, there's something else waiting for you." Harry takes (Y/N)'s hand and brings her out the dorm.

"Gonna need you to close your eyes," Harry tells her.

"Why?"

"Just do it. Please? I promise I won't let you trip and fall."

(Y/N) closed her eyes. Harry held her hand as he guided her down the stairs to the common room.

"Alright, you can open your eyes now love."

As (Y/N) opened her eyes, she sees a bunch of people jumping out from behind furniture.

"SURPRISE! HAPPY BIRTHDAY (Y/N)!"

The common room was decorated in streamers and confetti. A sign hanged in the middle of one of the walls saying "Happy Birthday (Y/N)!" All of her friends from every house was here, to celebrate her.

Hermione and Ron came up to her and gave her a hug. Fred and George were right behind them with a big cake with candles.

"Make a wish!" The twins said.

(Y/N) thought for a moment. I wish to just enjoy my life with the people I love the most.

She blows out her candles, everyone cheering.

"What did you wish for?!" Someone in the crowd asks.

(Y/N) chuckles before letting her answer slip. "This!"

Fred and George helped pass pieces of the cake around. Harry went closer to (Y/N), placing his arm around her waist and gave her a kiss.

"Happy birthday (Y/N)."

#harry potter #harry potter x reader #harry james potter #harry james potter x reader #hjp x reader #hp fanfic #harry #hjp #harry potter x fem!reader

[legendofmorons]

I love your crush(ed) oneshot with Twilight and damn, I know the feeling :') Would it be alright to request a part 2 for it! Where Twilight discovers that his feelings for the reader aren't just best friend like and it takes a drastic or angsty moment with reader to realise this and the reader was finally trying to move on as it's been a while now until he then spills his feels and then he kisses the reader like lowkey steamy steamy ;) but not too much and they're both happy and everyone is like gosh damn finally-

I've never done an ask before so I hope this is right! And thank you for reading this if you do!

-🌙anon!

Crush(ed) part 2 (Twilight)

(Did Y'all team up? /j. Happy to oblige though, stubborn ranch man and stubborn reader go brrrr.)

Pairing: Twilight x reader

Rating: G

Summary: After you and Twilight are given a task, you two finally sort out your feelings. Also, Legend wins a red rupee.

Warnings: none

Other: Please let me know if I missed anything

--------

You've spent probably a month without any real interactions between you and Twilight. Time has even stopped trying to help you two make up.

At least that's over. There's a special awfulness when the Team Adults (TM) try to make you play nice.

Why not wear a get along t-shirt?

Obviously, you don't have a get along shirt, but still.

Sky has become a much closer friend, and the sympathetic smile he gives to your latest assignment does nothing to ease your problems.

You're supposed to go on a week long trek to Hateno to get some stuff from Purah. And of course, your travel buddy is Twilight.

So here you are, packing your bags up after breakfast. Trying to ignore the meaningful looks Time and Warriors give you.

"You're sure you're gonna be okay? I can come with." Sky gives a reassuring smile, holding our your rolled up sleep roll.

"I'll be fine, Sky. What Twilight gonna do, bite me?"

"You're right. It'll be fine."

"Ready to head out?" Twilight asks as he comes up to you from the right.

"I'm ready when you are." You say, pulling your travel pack onto your shoulders. Your heart dosen’t skip a beat at all. (It does but that's unrelated.)

You're definitely almost over the rancher.

(You most certainly are not even close to over him. But you like to live in denial. Fake it til you make it and all.)

"Alright. Let's go."

You follow Twilight, the worn paths dusty but easy to traverse.

You look around, enjoying the nature from Wild's hyrule. The way nature has recovered since the calamity is amazing.

-------

Twilight sits across from you at the campfire. You haven't said a whole ten words to him since you guys headed out.

He watches you stare into the fire.

It's like you're ignoring him. Or trying to distance yourself.

Well, now, wait a minute - he can't remember the last time you two had a real conversation. He thought he was just imagining things.

But you really are ignoring him.

You've been spending more time with Sky.

He's seen you two cuddling - which his fine. Twilight has no claim on your time and cuddling dosen’t have to mean romance!

Why does Twilight care if you and Sky are cuddling in a romantic way?

Why does he hope it's not romantic?

It's not like he has a crush.

He isn't in love with you.

Oh.

Oh.

This is not a good time to realize this. Obviously you don't want anything to do with him.

Which is weird. A month or so ago, you two were close!

Did he do something?

He can't remember anything he might have done.

"Stop staring." You say, looking at him with an even expression.

"Oh. I didn't mean-"

"It's fine. Just uncomfortable."

"I'm so sorry."

"It's fine." You tell him, though the edge in your voice says that it is not fine.

"I really didn't mean to stare. I-"

"I said it's fine!" You snap, something in you breaking.

"(Y/n)?" He asks, caution in his voice.

"You just can't leave me alone?! I'm doing my best! I really am! And you just go and fuck it all up by being - you!" You are almost yelling, face heated up and fire in your eyes.

Twilight used to revel in the fire, watching you take down monsters.

He never thought it'd be turned towards him... especially not for being himself or being polite.

Ouch.

"I'm sorry." He says, looking to the ground.

"I wish your Zelda had come with you. I wouldn't have gotten my hopes up." Your voice is bitter.

"I don't know what you're talking about. Did I do something?"

"Other than being you? No. It's all me and my stupid fucking heart."

What?

It's you? And your heart?

That almost sounds like you have feelings for him. But that can't be it.

Right?

Twilight gives you the most incredulous look. "Are you tryin' to tell me somethin'?"

His accent is more noticeable, hope and anxiety mixing into an almost overwhelming cocktail of emotion.

You can't help it. You've never really been able to lie to Twilight. The thought makes your heart squeeze.

"I'm head over heels for you! Okay?! But I know you like Zelda, so you don't have to let me down easy."

Twilight stares at you, making sure he heard you right.

You're head over heels for him?

Oh.

Wait-

"You think I like Zelda?" He asks, sounding thoroughly flabbergasted.

"I heard you talking about it! One of the others asked you about your princess and you said that of course you liked her."

"As a friend and a leader." Twilight says firmly, but not at all mad.

"But-

"Zelda is a friend, and my home's princess. But there's nothing romantic with her."

"Oh."

"(Y/n), darlin' it's you. You're the one I want to be with."

"What?"

"Sweetheart, I'm beyond smitten. I'm in love with you."

"Oh."

"Oh." Twilight says with a smile. "Is the Zelda thing why you were ignoring me?"

"Yeah... I was trying to get over you."

"Well... I'm glad you didn't."

"Me too. I wish I'd just talked to you though."

"Well... what's done is done. We can only move forward."

"Can we do that together? Like - you're my boyfriend and we're going forward together?" You ask.

You sound a little anxious.

But lack of communication has only caused issues. So you figure airing on the side of too clear is better.

"I'd like that, a lot."

It dawns on you, that Time's plan worked. It's almost annoying.

But you're thankful.

"If you'll let me I'd love to take you to dinner in Hateno."

"I'd like that a lot."

When you go to sleep that night, you and Twi are side by side with linked pinkies. It's very cute.

(And if Wild or Wind were here they'd take pictures.)

The rest of the trip to Hateno is much more pleasant. Highlights include laughing at eachother's jokes, finding and chasing a glowing blue rabbit - deer thing, and also fireflies.

(Re: lightning bugs.)

You come to realize there isn't a restaurant there, unless you count the inn. So instead you buy dinner from the inn and take it to go.

After all, what's better than a picnic surrounded by fireflies?

-------

The only one awake when you and Twilight (your boyfriend!!!) Return to camp is Sky. He must be on watch then, based on how the sun is starting to slowly creeping up onto the sky again.

You and Twilight hold hands, warmth seeping from your palms right into your heart.

"Hey guys." Sky says with a friendly wave.

"Hey Sky." You give him a warm smile.

You're glad to see your friend.

You're glad to see all of the boys here, but for right now, you're focused on the one that's awake.

"You two seem to have made up."

The gentle squeeze Twilight gives your hand send giddy butterflies right to your brain.

"You could say that." Twilight says with a smile.

"Oh?" Sky asks.

"We're dating." You answer easily.

"That's amazing, I'm so happy for you!" Sky gives a grin.

"Finally." Legend glimpse from his bed roll. "Wild owes me that red ruppee."

"You made a bet on us?" You ask, incredulous as you look to the vet.

"I won a bet."

"Legend." Sky says with a sigh, "Come on."

"Why are y'all being loud?" Time groans as he wakes up.

"Legend made a bet on us." Twilight says, both annoyed and touched.

After all, Legend bet on ypu two either getting together or making up. He isn't sure which one. But still.

"Legend." Time says with a sigh, still laying on his back.

"What? All I did was make an investment!"

"That's so much better." Ypu say with an eye roll.

But the smile Twilight gives you before he presses a kiss to your cheek is worth all of it.

#lu #linkeduniverse #misty writes #linked universe x reader #lu twilight #twilight lu #twilight x reader #lu twilight x reader #🌙 anon

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

Hi! I love your writing so much, you portray all the characters so accurately!! Could I possibly request the M6 with an MC that procrastinates a lot?

The Arcana HCs: M6 with a procrastinator MC

~ ... why do I feel personally called out by this lol

Dear procrastinators, you are not alone and you are not lazy. It is very likely that you experience executive dysfunction or are a perfectionist, and neither of those things say anything negative about you - brainrot ~

Julian

This man screams undiagnosed ADHD

He is painfully familiar with looking at several large tasks made up of lots of smaller tasks and mentally blue screening

It's such a common habit for him to put things off until the last minute and then do two days' work in an hour and a half that he just assumes it's the default way of functioning

So the first time you tell him about how you're going to put off practicing a spell until two hours before you need to use it, his reaction is just "mood"

You'll have to be the first of the two of you to bring it up and point out that it hurts your ability to function

Once you do, he's giving you all of his emotional support. You agree to hold each other accountable since neither of you can justifiably hold a grudge about it

Just don't say "I'll start working on this once you start working on that," or else you'll end up in a procrastination deadlock as you sit and experience the existential dread together

Asra

They don't seem to understand how much stress this causes you. They're the kind of easy-going person who shows up five minutes before an airplane flight

He assumes it's just your working style

Until they catch you stressed to the point of tears one morning because you know you have to take inventory today and you know you're going to wait til sundown and you know it'll keep you up late

He's immediately pulling you into a firm hug, rubbing your back and giving you little forehead kisses while you rant about it

Volunteers to begin tasks with you until you have the momentum you need

"Would you like me to read the numbers to you while you check? Or would you like to make some tea for us while I get started, and then you join me when you're ready?"

Faust is very good at reminding you to take breaks when you start to work too frantically

They will (lovingly) tease you about it

He will keep a kisses reward system and praise you until you blush over every effort

Nadia

She doesn't deal with this at all, but she does know what it's like to feel overwhelmed

Picks up on your struggle instantly

The moment she asked you to take over a murder investigation with 0 leads she saw the frozen dread on your face and knew

She doesn't want to cramp your style by imposing her own habits on you, so instead she'll ask you questions about your day's to do list and guide you through formulating a plan of attack

She's an excellent strategist, you're in very good hands

Tackling a big goal is a lot easier when you already have the steps planned out and can concentrate on one at a time until you've picked up enough steam to carry through

The struggle never goes away, of course, but in the moments when something unexpectedly big makes your brain begin to stall you can almost hear her silky voice in your ear:

"There is no such thing as only one problem, my darling. Look for where it breaks apart, and we'll conquer one piece at a time."

Muriel

He doesn't procrastinate things the way you do, but he certainly avoids uncomfortable issues for as long as possible until he's forced to confront them

He can tell that this is different. Sometimes the thing you put off is actually good and pleasant for you, you just can't seem to do it

More accurately, you can't seem to start

He notices you, and he notices how well you work once you've started. It's the part where you have to set up the tools, or write the first word, or get up out of your chair that makes you balk

There's a book on magic you need to read? He'll leave it open on the table to the chapter you mentioned, next to a pretty feather

If it's just a matter of getting up, he'll start sweeping the floor and ask you to move your seat

Sometimes he misreads the situation

You might be relaxing after having finished something on time for once, only for him to come in and start hustling you around because he thought you hadn't started yet. It's fun to call him on it and watch him blush

Portia

She cannot relate at all

Nobody can fit as many tasks into one hour as she can. Nobody can wrangle a to do list like she can. She gets stuff done

She might get frustrated with you at first

When she left you this morning, you had one thirty minute task to do before you could enjoy your day off, and now it's evening and you're stressed out because you still haven't done it yet

This makes no sense to her. Just do the thing

Once she realizes that it's not on purpose, she'll support you tirelessly. Tell her about your to do list

Oh, that task? Here's a few tips she follows to make it easier. An errand to that part of town? Here's a shortcut to try. You need to write a letter? She'll dictate the salutation and opening sentences to give you some momentum

It can be hard not to compare yourself to her productivity levels, but nobody has the unquestioning faith in you that she does. You'll be alright

Lucio

Procrastinating? He loves procrastinating

But only if it's something he'd rather not be doing. Or something that takes more effort than he thinks is worth it. Like chores

But when it's something that will make life easier, or something actually fun? It takes a while for him to notice, but once he does it really bothers him how much of a party pooper it is for you

Not to mention that when you get stressed, he gets stressed, and that's not fun

As loathe as he is to admit it, he knows he can be really annoying when he puts his mind to it. So that is what he does

He'll threaten to sing the entire score of Phantom of the Opera until you start doing the Thing that you need to do

All it takes is him mimicking the pipe organ's starting notes for Mercedes and Melchior to start whimpering, howling and barking:

"Don't get mad, you asked for it, MC." *deep breath* "BWAAAAAAAA! BWAM DUN DUN DUN DUUUNNNNN -"

Your productivity goes up but now you wince every time you see a chandelier

#ask arcana brainrot #the arcana #the arcana headcanons #the arcana hc #asra the arcana #julian the arcana #nadia the arcana #muriel the arcana #portia the arcana #lucio the arcana #the arcana game #the arcana fluff #asra alnazar #julian devorak #nadia satrinava #muriel of the kokhuri #portia devorak #lucio morgasson