#someone just interrupted his meal

[chipartwork]

“What have you done?”

#harry potter #severus snape #snape #vampire #cw: blood #digital #art by me #someone just interrupted his meal #and he's not happy about it

[mostly-imagines]

The Alchemy I

jason todd x fem!reader

aka the progression of your relationship with the red hood

warnings: slow burn, mentions of attempted sa for reader, depictions of blood and injury, mentions of standard gotham violence

Dear fuck, he’s as heavy as he looks.

You use all of your weight to pull him backwards towards the couch, almost giving up when you realized you’d have to lift him up off the ground to actually get on it.

Getting him through the window was enough of a hassle, challenging the difficulty of the decision to bring him in here at all. 

Thankfully you don’t have to think too hard on it because you feel his body stiffen up suddenly. He jolts upright, though clearly pained to do so, hand flying to the gun holster on his side.

You take a step back, hands out in front of you. “Hey, it’s alright.”

“Who are you?” His voice is interrogative. 

You put your hands down, “You’re the one who passed out on my balcony, I think if anyone gets to ask that question it’s me.”

He stares at you, white lenses bearing into your soul.

Okay, yeah. You tell him your name. He doesn’t move. “You just looked like you needed some help..”

His posture loosens a bit, and his hand finally leaves the holster.

He glances down at his abdomen, a sizable tear in his suit and a nearly alarming amount of blood. “You got any bandages?”

“Uh, I—yeah, yeah, I do.” You dart down the hall into the bathroom, shuffling through your first aid kid. You toss a few wraps into your arms, along with some antiseptic spray you suspect he’ll need. You grab your hand towel and get it wet under warm water. 

When you return, he’s moved himself onto the sofa, lifting his shirt up to assess the damage. You round the couch, seeing more blood than you’d have hoped for.

“Can I?” You ask, motioning to his injury. 

He looks up at you for a long moment. He nods.

You kneel down in front of him and replace his hand in lifting up the shirt. It’s a cut, it doesn’t look terribly deep, but still not shallow enough that he could just leave it.

You take the rag and dab it around the wound, trying to clean up the blood as much as possible without making contact with it.

He’s very still as you work, and you get the strong impression he’s watching you carefully.

You grab the antiseptic spray, shaking it. “This’ll sting.”

He grunts.

You apply the antiseptic thoroughly and he doesn’t even flinch. Doesn’t move his gaze from you for a second.

You unwrap one of the bandages and place it on firmly, making sure there’s no bleedthrough.

And not that you particularly want to be thinking about this right now, but the man is noticeably ripped. Stacked like a house of cards.

You rip away your gaze and stand up, hands on your hips, taking a deep breath. You look at him—at his helmet.

You don’t know how you can tell, but he’s studying you. Trying to get a read on you, maybe. Regardless, you’re eager to escape the gaze.

You shovel the remainder of your supplies back into your arms and bring them back to the bathroom, calling out, “I didn’t take off your helmet, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

There’s a short beat. 

“Do I seem like someone that worries often?” 

You peek your head out of the bathroom door. 

You look at him. “You seem like someone that doesn’t worry enough.”

He snorts. “You’re not far off.”

You make your way back once you’re done, looking at the disregarded meal you’d been interrupted from. “I have pasta if you…eat.”

“I do.”

“I can go in the other room if you—”

He clicks the lock on his helmet, taking it off. He’s left with a second mask underneath, covering his eyes and nose. His dark hair sticks up from the helmet, a white streak poking out in the front. He looks younger than you would’ve expected. Cuter, if his jaw is anything to go by.

“Don’t worry about it.”

Okay then.

You grab a second plate out of the cabinet and scoop on the rest of the pasta from the pan.

You hand him the plate, avoiding standing too close. 

“Thanks, sweetheart.” 

You turn back around as casually as possible after hearing the name, wanting to avoid letting your face give anything away.

This guy kills people, right?

You sit down in the armchair across from the couch, spooling the pasta on and off the fork. He doesn’t show the same hesitation in dining away that you do—you guess fighting crime would require some calorie exchange.

“You a nurse?” He asks after a few minutes. 

The question takes you by surprise. You hadn’t taken him as a small talk kind of person. “Huh? Oh, no, I’ve just taken a few first aid courses and stuff.”

He gives a short hum, thoughtful.

“What?”

“You’re good.” Hardly.

“I didn’t really do anything.”

“You did enough.” He says, not leaving much room for argument.

He stands up at once, walking past you to the kitchen. Your gaze follows him silently. He puts his empty plate in the sink and returns to the edge of the living room.

He looks at you once more and pops his helmet back on followed by the click of the lock.

“I’ll see ya.” He says shortly, before ducking out the window.

You’re left alone, sitting in your armchair, plate of cold pasta forgotten on your lap.

That could’ve gone very badly. Maybe not your most thought-through decision to literally drag the Red Hood into your apartment, but hey. Maybe you’re exercising your ability to be an upstanding, helpful person. Or maybe you were just hoping to prevent a vigilante being found dead on your fire escape.

Regardless, you close the window after him, leaving it unlocked. Just in case.

You wake in the middle of the night to the sounds of footsteps in your living room. You shoot upright, immediately spotting the lamp light flooding in from under your door.

Creeping to a stand, you grab the baseball bat next to your bed and slowly walk to the door.

You creep the door open as quietly as possible, inching out half a step at a time. A nearby creak on your floorboards had you swinging blindly, only to have your bat get stopped midair. You look up to see Mr. Hood himself, blocking the blow of your hit with his hand. 

“Wow. You and a bat against Gotham, huh, sweetheart?”

“Fuck!” You let go of the bat and drown your face in your hands. “What is wrong with you?”

“Apparently that I don’t carry enough baseball bats with me.” He says coolly, inspecting your bat. Though he’s got to admit, your bat is probably a hell of a lot more useful than his. 

You drop your arms at your side. “If I’d known bringing you into my apartment one time was going to be considered a free pass forever, I might’ve thought twice.”

“If I’d known I was going to nearly be concussed with a baseball bat, I might’ve too.” Barely. If you’re being honest with yourself, you’re still half asleep and it was not a very good swing.

He looks at you straight on for the first time. His helmet quickly drifts down and back up to your face just as fast.

You look down. T-Shirt, underwear, and…no that’s it. Not…ideal. You pull down on the unfortunately not at all oversized shirt, wanting to creep back into your room.

He turns his back, allowing you to do just that and scramble for some shorts to throw on. 

“Very gentlemanly of you.” You call out from your room, “And only thirty seconds after breaking into my apartment.”

“Okay, one, I’ve been here longer than that. In a non creepy way.”

“Right.”

“And two, I didn’t break anything. You live in the middle of Gotham and don’t lock your window?”

You reemerge in the doorway, “I live on the eighth floor.” 

He turns around to face you again, helmet in his hands. “Didn’t stop me.” No it did not. 

“Mm. So are you here specifically to judge my home security or was there something you needed?”

He takes a deep breath, “Actually yeah. I just need a place to rest for a minute.” 

“Rest from what?”

A series of gunshots echo from down the street.

“Next question.”

Concise.

You and Hood sit on the couch in the dark, per his insistence, because for some godforsaken reason, you have no curtains. It takes a few minutes for the silence to dissipate into forced conversation, which takes a few more minutes to fade into actual conversation.

“Can I be honest with you?” You ask him.

“Does it matter how I answer?”

“I don’t understand how you’re not dead.” You poke your head up, turning to him. “Are you human?”

He cranes his neck to look out the window, “Maybe getting shot at isn’t the worst thing that could happen tonight…”

You roll your eyes with a smile that you’re glad is hidden by the darkness. “Oh, fuck off.”

“You don’t have much in terms of self-preservation skills, do you?”

You ignore him as to not acknowledge that he’s probably right and roll through to your next curiosity, “Who the hell was shooting at you anyways?” Though, you don’t really expect an answer.

He shakes his head. “Doesn’t matter. They got ‘til sunrise anyway.”

You tilt your head, “‘Til sunri—” oh. Yeah. Come to think of it, he does have two guns on him right now. At least that you can see. You squint blankly at the wall, “You know, I’m placing a lot of trust in the hope that you’re not just as bad as those guys.”

“Yes you are.” He nods, not doing anything to convince you that he is in fact a good guy. He hasn’t tried to harm you in any way though, so you guess that’s a good sign.

You tilt your head at him. “Do you get paid to do this?” 

“I’m pretty sure there’s a lot of people who would pay me not to do this.” 

You nod solemnly, mouth turned into an exaggerated frown. “So you have a day job?”

He looks over at you, “Do you always ask this many questions?”

“Are you always so dodgy about answering them?” You shoot back. If you’d thought for .5 seconds longer on that, you might not have said anything. But you feel comfortable here, in your apartment with a man whose face you’ve never seen, name you don’t know, and always has at least two loaded guns on him.

He huffs out a laugh, “Yeah. I am.” He looks over at you. “You live here by yourself?”

You look around at the empty apartment before turning back to him, “Seems that way.”

He shrugs, “Boyfriend could be out or something.”

“Well most people are asleep at one in the morning. Like I was. Remember that?”

“No.”

You sigh, curling up into a ball on your end of the couch, resting your chin on your knees. You’re quiet for a minute before piping up, “Do people actually break into apartments on high floors a lot?”

“Stupid people.” He pauses, looking over at the frown on your face. “Look, I’m in the neighborhood a lot. If I see somebody climbing your fire escape I’ll shoot them.”

You let a little smile out, “I’m thinking there’s other steps you could take before you get to that point.”

“If you want to waste time.” His gaze doubles back at you, “That was a joke, by the way.”

You bark out a tired laugh, “Yeah, I picked up on that, thanks.”

He removes his eyes from you, fixing on a set of pictures you have hanging on the wall.

Your eyes flutter and you move to rest your head on the arm of the couch. “Is this going to be a regular thing then?”

“You could lock your window.”

“Living on the eighth floor didn’t stop you, I can’t imagine a shitty lock will do much more.”

“If you don’t want me here, I won’t be here.” He says gruffly.

“If I don’t want you here, I’ll let you know.” You mumble, eyes closing.

You can barely make out a laugh from him, “Good to know.”

You’re not quite sure how much time goes by when he leaves, but you have a pretty strong feeling you’d fallen asleep. Your main indicator was feeling the blanket draped nicely over you that you could’ve sworn was on the chair across the room.

Maybe it’s ten o’clock at night and you’re sat on your kitchen floor, bawling your eyes out. Maybe you’re going to have to quit your job. Or maybe you’ll have to face a lawsuit. Maybe this is the worst day in the history of time. Maybe it’s about to get worse. 

The sound of your living room window sliding open has you startling into a rush, body panicking as if you’ve done something wrong and desperately need to cover the evidence. The past few weeks of sporadic visits leaves no question about who it is, and you just hope the kitchen island in front of you will be enough to convince Hood that you’re not in and he’ll leave.

But because today is today, that’s not how it goes down.

You can vaguely make out the sound of his footsteps approaching, a courtesy that you’re sure he incorporated on purpose.

“Oh fuck…” you mutter to yourself, wiping your eyes.

He rounds the counter, looking down at you. “Wha—what’s wrong?”

“Fuck. Nothing.” You say, standing up and adjusting your clothes. “Are you hurt?” He better fucking not be at only ten.

“No, I—why are you on the floor?” 

You roll your eyes, “I live alone, forgive me for assuming I would be given the privilege to cry on the floor in private.”

“Did something happen?” You’re trying really hard not to call him an idiot. 

You raise your eyebrows, giving a light nod. “Uh, yeah, I’d say so.”

He shifts in his stance, “Do I need to talk to someone?”

You scoff, knowing damn well his version of ‘talk to someone’ does not include talking to someone. “Why are you even here so early?” 

“Wanted to stop by before I went out.” he says quietly.

You’re about to snap something at him again, but the burning in your eyes takes immediate priority. You wrap your arms around your middle and try to calm yourself down, with very little success. The tears fall easily and your shoulders start shaking as you look at the floor, letting the melancholy take over. 

It feels like much longer than it probably was, but sometime after the first few tears fall he wraps his arms around you and pulls you into his chest. This only makes you cry harder, sobbing against his armor. Your arms stay wrapped around your center, while his hands remain completely still against your back, though firm. You don’t realize it immediately, but he’s holding a good portion of your weight up, you’d for sure collapse onto the floor otherwise. You kind of wish you would. Sitting on the floor felt nice, maybe falling down on it will feel even better.

You slowly start to regain your breathing, the well in your eyes drying up again. He waits for you to stop completely and slowly pulls back from you, hands momentarily still wavering next to you like he’s ready to catch you.

It takes you a minute to notice, but his helmet is locked on to the finger-shaped bruises on your forearm. You awkwardly move your opposite arm to cover them, looking around your apartment with nothing to search for.  

He’s quiet for a long while, clearly thinking hard. “What happened?”

You sniffle, “Some asshole at my job.”

“Some asshole?” He doesn’t believe you. Rightfully so, but he has no business being able to tell that you’re lying about one single word in that sentence.  

“My boss. Was very intent on successfully hitting on me.” You exhale deeply, “His approach could use some work though, if I’m honest.”

His posture remains statue-like. “Where do you work?”

You look at him straight on for the first time that night, “What does that matter?”

“I’ll take care of it.” He says simply.

You wave him off, “It’s fine.”

He waits a moment before letting you know, “I’m being polite by asking, I’m going to find out either way.”

You plop back down on the kitchen floor, knees to chest. “Well, then do it the hard way.”

About ten seconds of him staring down at you in silence go by, before he sits down next to you. It’s a bit funny how he tries to shrink himself down next to you, you’re assuming because he doesn’t want you to get panicked again because this massive stranger is sitting next to you in your kitchen in the dead of night.  

You don’t look at him as he clicks his helmet off and sets it on the other side of him. It’s quiet for another minute when he holds his gloved hand out to you, and you’re not quite sure how you know what he wants, but you do. You place your bruised arm in his hand, letting him gently pull it closer to him and scan over it. 

“Are you hurt anywhere else?” 

Again, you don’t know how, but you can tell he’s asking how far things went. “I started screaming and it freaked him out. He let me go.” you say numbly. 

You can see him nod out of the corner of your eye, bits of red making their way into your peripheral despite the discarded helmet. You turn slowly to look at him, finding him looking at you already.  

His face is more covered than it had been the first night, the same black mask covers his eyes but the lower half of his face is also hidden by a red mouthpiece. You’re in the lamp light and closer to him than you had been before and you’re counting out specks of green in his blue eyes. He lets you, to your surprise, and when you run out of emerald hues you take focus on his thick, dark eyelashes. Your gaze moves back ever so slightly to make eye contact with him and you tear your eyes away, zeroing in on the kitchen tiles. 

You sigh contemplatively, “I’m worried if you kill my boss it’ll be traced back to me and I’ll get pinned for it.”

He doesn’t laugh. But your delivery was a little dry in the wrong way so really it was on you.

“I’m not going to kill him.” he tells you, “I wouldn’t gamble with my pied-a-terre like that.”

Your head falls back, hitting the drawer behind you with a light thud. “Then why waste your time at all?” Maybe you should slow down with the snide comments.

He wants to, but he doesn’t call out the implied self-slighting in your words. “Maybe it’s a ‘me’ thing but I don’t particularly like men that hurt women.”

You let out a dry laugh. “In Gotham, it just might be.”

He sits with you on the linoleum tile of your kitchen until your eyes start to droop and he lightly corrals you to your bedroom before taking his exit through the window. You told him multiple times that he could go and you were fine, but he insisted that nothing important was happening in the city that time of night. You didn’t quite believe him though, because it was past midnight by the time he’d headed out.  

When you showed up to work the following day your boss wasn’t there. Wasn’t there the day after either. Or the day after. He didn’t make an appearance again until the following Monday. And when he did show face, he did so with a neck brace and a cast on his leg. But once more, he absolutely refused to make eye contact or speak to any of the female employees. It actually became a whole thing when he wouldn’t give instructions or feedback to any of you, and insisted on having his secretary replaced with a man, who he then used as a middle man to speak to all of the women for him. HR got involved three times in the span of the next five days, and by the Monday after, he’d been fired.

So to recap: yes, no, no, undecided, and hard no. 

Maybe you’re really starting to like this Red Hood guy.

Hard yes.

You’re slightly on guard upon hearing a clattering on the balcony, though if the past few weeks have been any indicator, you’re not in much danger.

Your posture slumps as you peer around the hallway corner, “Oh, it’s you.”

“Good to see you too.” he grumbles, dropping onto the floor.

“Well, I have to imagine I’m a step up from the last person you saw.” You say, looking him up and down, seeing what sure as hell looks like a gunshot wound on his chest armor. “What happened to you? The Mad Hatter uses guns now?”

He groans, “Ah, I said something about him being a heartless fuck, and I guess he took it personally.”

You sigh, “Jesus Christ, Hood.”

He waves you off, “It’s not that big of a deal.” 

You scoff, “He tried to shoot you in the heart.”

“Yeah, well, he missed.” He grumbles, adjusting his position on the couch. 

You exhale sharply, “How do you know?”

“How do I know?” He tilts his helmet at you, exasperated. 

You throw your arms up at your side, “I don’t know! I’m not equipped for this scenario.”

He huffs, “Look, it’s fine, it hit my armor. It’ll probably just be a bad bruise.”

“Probably?”

“I don’t think there’s blood. Could you…” he vaguely gestures to his torso, but it's enough for you to get the hint.

You shake the panic out of your head, “Yeah, yeah, of course.”

You help him shrug off his jacket as he strips off his armor, and you lift his shirt up as slowly as you can in case the injury is worse than he thinks.

You’re not shocked to see that he has scars, that’s kind of a given in his line of work. What you are shocked to see is one very long scar that lines directly up the center of his body. It’s a deep scar, too.

And, oh. The long scar extends further, splitting off into a fork at his collar. That’s—oh. Oh. Oh. That is an autopsy scar. 

You’re not sure what to do. You’ve never seen a living person with an autopsy scar—though you have to imagine neither have most people.

He clearly does not want to talk about it and you’re happy to let him keep the skeleton in the closet.

You avert your gaze back over to his diaphragm at the area of reddened skin.

“There’s no blood, but…” You inspect it a bit closer, “I think there’s going to be a bad bruise. You might end up with bruising on your ribs, you need to get that looked at.”

“I am.” He says shortly.

You stand up straight, dropping your shoulders. “By someone who went to medical school. Or has taken more than one anatomy class in their life.” 

He yanks down his shirt, standing, apparently too quickly, and wobbling. You catch his arm as he sways, attempting to steady him. “You should sit down.”

“Need to go back out.” He grunts, trying to pull away from you with little force.

“To get killed? ‘Cause you’re going the right way about it.” 

He tilts his head at you like he’s daring you to be so bold again. At least that's what it felt like. You sigh, gesturing to the couch, “Sit down.”

You didn’t expect it to work but he does as told.

You look around, unsure of what to do next. “Do you need ice?”

“What?”

“You’re hurt.” You say slower. “Do you need ice?”

He falters for a second, “No, it’s—no.” A couple beats pass before he adds, “Thanks, sweetheart.” 

It’s impossible not to notice that he’s staring at you. You feel hot under his gaze, not knowing what to do with yourself. You clear your throat, telling him to hang on for a second. 

You call out behind you as you walk to the kitchen, “Take your helmet off, it’s rude.” You grab the painkillers from their new easily-accessible place on the kitchen counter and grab a water bottle from the fridge.

It was a joke but when you come back his helmet is off and he’s just wearing his domino eye mask. His hair is extra tousled, the white streak barely visible in the mess of loose curls. You toss the bottle of meds at him, followed by the capped bottle of water. He catches them easily, downing more than he probably should have but he got shot tonight so you figure you’ll give him a break about it.    

You plop down on the couch next to him, honestly closer than you’d meant to. Your knees and shoulders lightly brush against one anothers, though neither of you make any moves to scoot over. 

You both look straight ahead at the wall, simmering in the amity. “So did somebody else deal with the Hatter or when you get shot do you just bounce back like a T-1000?”

He scoffs, “No, getting shot at is a bit of an inconvenience for me.”

“Wrong line of work.”

He cocks an eyebrow, “You’re telling me.”

You turn your head to him, “Why do you do it then?” 

He looks back at you earnestly. “Someone has to.” 

“Someone does.”

He tenses up a bit at that, breaking eye contact. “Not well enough.” 

Your head slowly lulls and drops into a rest on his shoulder, causing him to stiffen up a bit more before almost completely relaxing.

“So violence is the answer to violence?” you ask, not argumentative, just genuinely musing. 

Hood sighs, “Half-assed reform programs didn’t do anything, shitty ‘crisis interventions’ didn’t do anything, the cops sure as hell don’t do anything.” He shrugs under you. “You run out of options eventually.”

“And that’s why you took it upon yourself to intervene?”

“Mm. ‘When reason fails, the devil helps.’” He says, quite melodramatically, in your opinion.

“I-Is that—” you squint, shooting off of his shoulder to look him in the eye. “You spend your nights getting in street fights and shootouts and you spend your days reading Crime and Punishment of all things?” You gawk at him, “That explains a lot about your disposition.”

He shrugs with a shake of his head. “It’s a rough world. Can’t afford to be reading about Hogwarts.”

You pause, combing through your next words, “‘Man only likes to count his troubles; he doesn’t calculate his happiness.’”

His eyes crinkle under his mask as he smiles, clearly pleasantly surprised that you know your shit. “Touché.”

You grin back, pleased with yourself. 

There’s a brief recession where your smiles both get caught in the flicker between on and off, where your eyes take the opportunity to scan over each other’s faces. 

You realize that this may be the first time you’ve seen him properly smile and it’s so magnetizing. So much so that you don’t realize you’re staring at his lips until your eyes snap back up to his and find that his are on yours.

His eyes don’t leave yours as he nudges you a bit with his shoulder. It does just enough to break the trance, giving you the cue to rest your head on him again. This time you allow more of your weight to lean against him and he actually seems relaxed for once.

 You glance at the clock on the wall without moving and realize it’s almost four in the morning. “I’m tired, Hood.” you mumble into his shirt.

“You don’t—” he falters for a moment, “You don’t have to call me that.”

You squint at him, “What should I call you then?”

He’s quiet for a moment. “J.”

“J?” you whisper, like it’s a grave secret. You guess it kind of is.

He nods.

“Okay.” Your cheek flattens against his shoulder. “J.” 

You nearly think you’re imagining it when you feel him rest his head against yours.

“You don’t know how to protect yourself?”

You roll your eyes at him, “You saw the way I swung at you with the baseball bat, what do you think?”

It’s only just after sunset, you could still see some purple-pink hues in the sky if you looked out the window. He’s started showing up before patrol some nights, saying he felt bad about waking you up at 3 am multiple times a week. So now, he mostly only drops in late if he’s a manageable amount of injured.

You stand in the middle of your living room together, after you’d made a joke about needing him as a bodyguard in Gotham. As it turns out, that was a one way street to him finding out that you’re useless in a fight.

“I was hoping you were having an off night because you just woke up, but now I'm concerned.” He says, grimacing.

You shrug, “I carry pepper spray.” 

He grumbles, displeased. “Put your hands up.”

You drop your head to the side and glower at him, “Really?”

He raises his eyebrows at you. Just do it. 

Alright, you’ll humor him. You put your fists up and he holds his hands open in front of you in kind. You throw a light punch.

“Come on, put your weight behind it.”

You do, hitting his hand harder. “Hood—”

He tilts his head forward at that, looking at you through his brows.

You inhale impatiently, “J, Why do we have to do this? I don’t have any illusions that I could knock you out and I can’t imagine you do either.” 

He shakes his head, “It’s not about knocking someone out, it’s about defending yourself. Gonna be a hell of a lot harder to hurt you if you’re throwing punches. Harder.”

You give a raised hum, “Not if they have a gun…”

“Well, we’ll work on that too.”

You groan, throwing a half-assed hit. “Where’d you learn to fight?” You ask before throwing another.

“Turn your body into it.” He corrects. “My, uh, my dad taught me.”

You hum, hitting him again. “Are you guys close?”

“You’re being nosy again.” He grunts amidst a hit.

“You’re being evasive again.” You shoot back.  

He drops his hands, taking your wrists in his, “Here, put your hands in front of your face when you shoot so you can block counters.” He tells you, adjusting your stance accordingly.

You make a face, “I’m confused, am I fighting a mugger or a kickboxer?”  

He ignores you, moving his hands around to give you different angles to hit at. 

You go at it for a few minutes, taking his critiques with reluctant concedence. “Alright, that’s good.” He says, relaxing his body.

You perk up, “We’re done?” 

“No,” he shuts you down before asking earnestly, “Do you trust me?”

Your brain hadn’t even fully processed the question before you nod, mumbling a ‘yes’. He takes a measured step closer to you, watching carefully for your reaction. You almost back up in surprise, angling your head up further to look at him properly. You give no objection, so he continues, “I want you to try to get me on the ground.”

You let out a sound that’s half-laugh, half-scoff. “You’re twice my size.”      

He sighs, looking at you somberly. “Sweetheart, odds are you’re not going to be evenly matched against someone that wants to hurt you. You get ‘em on the ground ‘n you have the upper hand or it’ll give you time to get away.”

You throw your hands up at your sides, “I don’t—” You huff, “Fine, okay.” You try to trip him by sliding your leg behind his and kicking, but he blocks you expertly.

You, against better judgment, shove your shoulder into his side, though it does nothing to phase him, let alone knock him down. 

“You gotta get more creative than that.” He chastises with a tut. 

In response, you take a step back to reassess the situation. You try to maintain a poker face as you strategize in your head. You make a dive for his legs, wrapping your arms around the back of his legs and pulling hard to make him lose balance. You’re sure if he were actually trying for a damn you would immediately be done for afterwards, but it does make him wobble. You then throw all of your weight against him, pushing him backwards and causing him to hit the floor with a thud.

He probably allowed for gravity to come to your aid, but he lands on his back all the same. You land half on him, half on the carpet, your hand resting on his chest. He looks up at you nodding, “Good. That was good, sweetheart.”

You smile, quite proud of yourself, and start to stand up when he hooks his arm around the back of your knee and pulls you to the ground too, switching places with you. You hit the ground gently with a sigh, “Really?”

He has one hand rested next to your head to balance him in his place above you. He smirks down at you and lets a tussle of white hair hang over his forehead. “Can’t be getting cocky, sweetheart.”

You laugh sourly, “Coming from you?” 

You quickly push at the bend of his arm and use the distraction to adjust your position to wrap your legs around his center and push your arm against his chest in an attempt to rotate him off of you.

He counters you by pushing your shoulder down, holding you down to the floor. His opposite hand flies to pull your forearm away from his chest, pinning it next to your head, careful to avoid your hair. He moves so quickly that you have half a mind to think he acted on pure instinct. That, and the look on his face when the dust settles says that he hadn’t intended for you to end up in this position. 

Your legs are still wrapped around him and you’re too frozen in the moment to make any changes. He’s in no more of a rush to move, large frame towering over you. You feel his touch stutter against your shoulder, his eyes flickering across your face.

You gaze up at him, taking in the soft look in his eyes behind the mask. You think you can see more green than you did before. You unwrap your legs from around his waist and slowly start to sit up. He releases your wrist and eases the pressure on your shoulder. He leans back half as quickly as you move forward, stopping when you’re propped up on your elbows.

Your faces are only a few inches apart and it feels like your only option is to look down at his lips. You have a feeling he’s doing the same to you. The adrenaline of the hassle has long since faded but the rhythm in both of your chests remains quick.

He leans forward so barely, but it’s enough to make your breath hitch. “J…” you say breathily, not sure what implication you’re aiming for.

He stills and this time you’re sure he’s looking at your lips. He blinks a few times like he’s trying to come back to himself and inches his face away from yours slowly. 

You let the hold in your breath release, disappointed more than anything. He eases off the floor to a stand and holds his hand out to help you up too. You take it with more of a frown than you’d meant to let out and rise to your feet.

“Let’s, uh…” He looks at the ground before taking a step back and putting his hands up again. “Let’s try some combos.”

You blink up at him for a second before raising your hands too.  

Alright, one step at a time.   

#jason todd loves this stranger #jason todd x reader #jason todd imagine #jason todd x you #red hood imagine #red hood x reader #red hood x you #jason todd fanfic #jason todd x y/n #jason todd/you #jason todd/reader #jason todd fanfiction #red hood fanfic #red hood fanfiction #dc x you #dc x reader #dc imagine #dc fanfic #dc fanfiction #jason todd loves his gf

[augustinewrites]

gojo, to no one’s surprise, is very comfortable with his new, self-proclaimed status as a dilf. 

because he’s well aware of the way people stared whenever he walked around with his eight month old daughter sitting snug against his chest in her mobile carrier. he knows the effect it always has when he would lift her little hand to wave at the enamoured strangers. because all babies are cute, sure. but he’s convinced that rina is the cutest.

you’d wanted to leave her with nanami for the day, concerned that she’d be too fussy, but gojo had insisted on bringing her with you. she was the ultimate bargaining chip, with her adorable blue eyes and huge noise cancelling headphones.

well, your bargaining chip’s nap was cut short when her father pulled her out of her car seat to tour the open house, her little face scrunching with the beginnings of a whine as satoru talks about crown moulding with the realtor. you reach into the diaper bag you’re carrying to pull out a container of banana puffs, handing them to him. 

he shakes a handful into his hand and shoves them in his mouth, talking through a mouthful about natural lighting.

“satoru, you’re dropping crumbs on her head,” you scold, taking a puff and placing it in her mouth yourself. her expression smooths and she gurgles happily, letting you rub your thumb over her round cheek.

laughing, he carefully sweeps the crumbs away as rina peeks up and sends him a gummy smile. he can’t help but beam back at her, brushing his lips against her forehead as he sways back and forth. 

the realtor excuses himself to take a call, leaving the three of you to explore the backyard. 

“this is nice,” your husband hums, glancing around. “a patio, lots of grass for rina to crawl around on– maybe even play with the dog…”

“we are not getting a dog,” you deadpan, reaching up to place rina’s little, flower-dotted hat atop her head. she immediately reaches up to grab at it, but satoru is quick to strap it under her chin. she whines, kicking her legs unhappily as satoru turns to you.

“so, now that we’ve seen the whole thing, what do you think?” he asks excitedly. if he had a tail, you’re sure it would be wagging. “a safe neighbourhood, four bedrooms with lots of space and natural light, new appliances. it checks all our boxes, babe.” 

“it’s pretty perfect,” you admit with a nod. “my only concern is that it’s a little far from the school. your family leave is up soon, and the commute through tokyo is crazy—”

“what if i didn’t go back full-time?” he says abruptly.

“what?”

“megumi’s doing better now,” he starts carefully. “and the students don’t really need us anymore. i’ll still swing by just to check up on everyone but,” he gently pulls rina from the carrier, holding her up so his smiling face is level with hers. “i’ve got someone else who needs me now. and i want to be around to watch her grow up in this house. one with lots of natural light and space to run around.”

he presses a kiss to each of her cheeks. she responds by kicking him in the chin, then grabbing a fistful of his hair. 

satoru is nothing if not adaptable (you’ve known this since the time megumi refused to eat anything that wasn’t orange and he still managed to feed the kid a balanced meal). he’s always able to be whatever people need him to be. whether it’s as a friend, a teacher, a boyfriend, or a father. 

and you’ve never seen him as…relaxed as he’s been these past few months. satoru is nothing if not adaptable, always rising early and returning late, going where he was needed when he was needed. but now he’s finally able to be where he wants, and he wants to take care of his family.

he seems to read your silence as hesitation. “i know it might be a little tough later on without my full-time salary, but–”

“but nothing,” you interrupt, smiling as you press a kiss to your daughter’s cheek, making her giggle. “the three of us will figure it out.”

“just the three of us?” he asks, shifting rina to one arm and wrapping the other around you. “what about a–”

“we are not getting a dog, satoru.”

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jjk x reader #gojo fluff #jjk fluff #keeping up with the fushigojos

[after-witch]

Two Birds One Stone [Yandere Gojo Satoru x Reader]

Title: Two Birds One Stone [Yandere Gojo x Reader[

Synopsis: Gojo Satoru follows you home. ‘Alone in the Dark’ follow-up.

Word count: 3000ish

notes: yandere, noncon sex, humiliation, misogyny against reader

No one in your family, no one on the spacious estate--from the rotating guests down to the most menial of servants--believes that you are truly ill. Yes, your family let you return home without too many questions, let you bundle yourself in your room and come out only for meals that you leave as soon as it’s polite to do so. They offer to fetch the physician, and only smile indulgently when you insist that it’s a passing bug, you’ll be fine soon. 

They do all these things, while they know that you’re not really unwell. 

At least they grant you the mercy of not saying it out loud, at least for now, which is something you can appreciate. There is very little that you appreciate nowadays. 

There is a soft knock at the door. One of the maids, then. They were trained to knock politely.

“Yes?”

The door gently opens to reveal one of the newer hires. A modest girl with the ability to act demure and professional just as well as any of the seasoned women who were multi-generational hires, whose mothers-and-grandmothers-and-great-grandmothers had worked for your family.

“Miss, my lord and lady have sent me to inform you that you have a caller.”

You clear your throat.

“Ah, unfortunately, I’m not feeling very--”

It was her turn to clear her throat, interrupting you. It almost made you flinch. It was an unusual gesture, not one your parents would have allowed. It should have been trained out by now.

“My lord and lady have sent me with explicit instructions that you are to come to the parlor immediately, even if you are unwell.”

You bite back a sigh. It must have been someone from one of the other families, then. Maybe throwing out another potential marriage match for you--your mother had fretted, especially recently, that you should have already been married by now. 

The thought of sitting in that damned parlor and pretending like you weren’t constantly about to throw up from stress and shock made you want to tear your hair out. You should tell the maid to go away, and bury yourself under your blankets, and scream and scream because Gojo Satoru made you do something awful and the world was unfair and you thought he was your friend and--

No.

People like you didn’t have that luxury. So you force down your bile and half-heartedly make yourself presentable in the mirror, and follow the maid who escorts you down the hallway, out of the intimate private family rooms and into the grand hall that leads down to the parlor. 

She stops you before you reach the threshold of the open door, and you almost trip on your dainty house shoes. The maid looks back at you with an expression that is something in between demure and overwhelmed. The skin of her cheeks flushes pink. She leans in, as if you were friends, and whispers,

“Miss, it’s--it is Gojo Satoru who has called on you.”

The world seems to drop out entirely. Yet you only feel as if you are falling as you stand there, hand braced against the door frame, head spinning. All the while, the maid grins, unawares, no doubt impressed that her employer’s daughter has associations with someone so well-known. 

Sound pushes and pulls around you, distorting in  your shock, but it’s there, clear as day: his voice. And your parents’ voices, all elegant and honeyed. 

From your vantage point against the door frame, you can hear the trickling edges of their conversation.

“They were smart enough to ask me for some tips, and, well, how could I say no?”

Your mother’s voice oohs-and-ahhs. “No wonder we have seen improvement with them lately. All thanks to your generous tutelage, no doubt!”

You can practically hear the grin in Gojo’s voice.

“Well, it certainly helps that I like their company so much. Very much, in fact.” 

You can vividly imagine the look that your parents have probably just given one another even before you cross the threshold of the door and announce yourself, curtsying slightly to your parents, as you’ve been brought up to do. 

Gojo stands when you enter. Oh, the fucker. All etiquette and primness. Your stomach churns. If he wasn’t buttering them up, if he was anywhere else, if he wasn’t doing this to mock you, he wouldn’t be standing with his hands behind his back and a polite smile on his face. He’d be picking at his ear or lounging on the fine upholstery like it was some ratty college couch. 

Your mother is fluttering towards you in an instant, smoothing down the wrinkled bits of your clothing, fingers darting over your face, looking for blemishes, scratches, anything that needs to be hidden or fixed. 

When she’s satisfied, she lightly clasps your hand and leads you over to where Gojo and your father are standing. Your father greets you with a warm nod--unusual for him, but there is company, after all--and Gojo. Well. 

Gojo smiles. Softly. You think, if he had his way, he’d be grinning like a cat that caught the canary. But that would be too much, in front of your parents. Too uncouth. So instead, he smiles lightly and sweetly and it makes you want to bend over and expel breakfast on your mother’s expensive rug. 

“I’m happy to see you’re up and about,” he says. And then he reaches out and touches your shoulder. You stiffen.

You look to your parents--surely this is improper, surely they will say something--but your mother only presses her hand delicately to her lips and smiles.

Your head turns, slowly, back to Gojo. His smile widens.

“Don’t worry. I’ve told them about our private courtship. We don’t have to hide it anymore.”

The world should fall out from underneath you, but it stays stubbornly flat. 

Your lips open and you will say something to make him leave, you’ll tell your parents what he did or feign illness or--

His hands move to rest on your hips, and--you jolt. Fingers dig into the skin of your hips through your clothing. A painful pinch that tells you: hush.

“I think it’s appropriate for them to have a bit of privacy, don’t you?” Your mother asks coyly, looking at your father. He nods solemnly and takes your mother’s arm. You have never, in your life, wanted your parents to stay with you more than you do now.

But they walk away. As your mother shuts the door, she gives you something most rare: a look of approval. How can she not notice the widened worry in your eyes? The anxiety in your expression? The mere presence of Gojo Satoru shuts out everything but his golden glow, the promise of his connection with your family. 

The sound of the door shutting is like nails on a chalkboard.

You take the opportunity to jerk yourself away from him--to your surprise, he lets you. 

“What the hell are you doing here?” You hiss. 

Gojo puts his hands in his pockets and shrugs easily.

“You weren’t around, so I came to you.”

You hate the way he looks too casual. As if you’d ghosted him after a bad study session and not--not….

“Of course I wasn’t around,” you say, almost spitting. “You…” But you don’t say it. Shame washes over you, hot and sticky. 

The silence between you is just as warm, and you want to wash it off.

“Let’s go to your room for more privacy,” he offers. 

“No.” Flat refusal is the only thing you can think to do now. Just say no, no, no, until he gives up and leaves. 

Instead of leaving, he sighs, languid, and stretches his arms above his head. “Ah, your parents will be so disappointed that I left so early, after all that I talked you up.”

You hate him so much.

“C’mon,” he wheedles, when you don’t respond. “I just want to see where you grew up. Is that so bad?’

Show him your bedroom, make him leave. You cross your arms in front of your chest. “It’s nothing special. Just a room,” you mumble.

“Don’t say that!” Gojo reaches for you and ignores your flinch when he wraps his arm around your shoulder. “It’s your room, of course it’s special.”

Your stomach responds to his praise with a low roil, a remnant of how you might have responded to his compliments before all of this. 

--

“There,” you say, voice tight and short, as you gesture towards your bedroom. You pointedly leave the door open but Gojo doesn’t protest. 

It’s not the most impressive bedroom on the estate--that would be your parents’ room, followed by the siblings who managed successful sorcerer careers and have already had a few children. 

But it’s cozy, and it's yours, and for you that’s enough. You just wish Gojo wouldn’t contaminate it with his presence. He looks at everything, smiling, humming. He goes to read a journal open on your dresser and you rush to slam it shut. He jumps back with an exaggerated grin and apologizes. 

He doesn’t look and leave, like you hoped he would. Instead, he sits down on your bed and pats the space next to him.

“You said you just wanted to look.”

He pats the spot again. “I just want to ask about your training. Really quick.” The look you give him must be enough to kill, because he puts his hands in the air. “I promise, only a few questions about your training.”

Your legs tingle as you force them to move, one step at a time, to the bed. You sit next to him and the proximity makes you want to flee. But if you just do what he says and get this over with, he’ll leave. You can deal with your parents’ expectations about some courtship later.

He smiles when you sit. 

“So, any progress? Better? Worse?” He looks down at you through his glasses. “Be honest.” 

“I… I guess I have been getting better at concentrating,” you murmur. You’ve been forced to, really, since you didn’t want your parents to know about what happened. 

“Aw, see? I knew it would help!”

It. Is that what he calls what he did to you? Your throat hurts. 

“That’s not why you did it.”

Gojo has the audacity to quirk his head at you. It’s a gesture you know would make many women’s heart flutters. It just makes you want to close your eyes.

“No?”

You don’t respond, and after a moment, he gets up. It’s enough to make you sigh in relief. He’s leaving. He’ll be gone and you can figure out what to tell your parents and it will all be fine because--

But he doesn’t walk through the door.

Instead, he shuts it.

“Gojo--”

He gives you a look.

“No one will mind,” he tells you, voice light. “I’ll be quiet if you will.”

Your heart thuds, one, two, three.

“What do you mean?”

He looks at you as if you’ve asked him the stupidest question in the world. Maybe you did. Because he’s walking towards the bed now, forcing you to scoot backwards on it. You realize the vulnerability of your body in this position far too late, because before you know it, he’s crawling onto the bed with you.

“Wait--wait,” you sputter. “C-Can’t you just leave? Please?”

He leans over you and pins you down with the mere presence of his body.

“You’re so sweet, you know that?” He kisses your neck, and you crane it to the side, which only makes him kiss it more. “So cute. I’ve been thinking about you every day since then. Every hour. Every minute.” His kisses grow more numerous, on your shoulder, up your neck, your cheek, finally resting just above your lips.

“Gojo, stop.” He’s so close that your breath ghosts his skin, puffs against his lips.

“I’ve been thinking about the faces you made,” he says, voice dropping an octave. The words slink out of him like a snake. “How sweaty you got. What you looked like with your come all over that pretty face.”

If your cheeks get any hotter, you’ll get ill. You know it.

“Stop it,” you whisper, but your lips brush against his and he takes the opportunity to capture you in a kiss. 

The distraction is enough to keep you from thinking about his hands, to keep you from being aware of his fingers unlacing the buttons of your blouse, of how he slides your arms out of the sleeves. You’re only wearing a thin morning camisole underneath, and the sound of it shredding breaks through the unwanted kiss. 

“Gojo--” You say, or want to say, but all your words are muffled against him. 

Saliva trails from his mouth--you want to gag--when he pulls away. “Satoru,” is all he says. 

He’s taken off your shirt. He’s ripped your undershirt. You’re lying underneath him, ample chest bared, and he’s not going to get off you.

His fingers find your nipples and give them an unceremonious tweak. 

“Don’t!”The word comes out too loud, too shrieky, and both of you still in the silence that follows.

You expect him to get off you now. You expect him to realize the danger of being found out and take the opportunity to leave; ego bruised, perhaps, but still--he would be gone.

Instead, he grins at you. “I thought you wouldn’t want anyone to come in and see us? Ah, but…” He rolls your nipples in between his fingers, and you jerk on the bed at the strange, electric feeling that shoots in between your legs. “Maybe you want to get caught?”

You press your lips firmly together--be quiet, you tell yourself, be quiet!--and shake your head. 

He continues to roll your nipples, and your hips squirm against the feeling. “I think you do,” he muses. “You know, if someone did waltz in here while I’m balls deep in you, we’d have to get married.”

You practically choke on the unexpected sliminess of his words. But perhaps not so unexpected, considering what he was doing. 

“Wh--What?” You hiss.

Gojo looks at you like you’re dumb--cute. But dumb. “I mean, your family is traditional, no? I don’t think they’ll let me deflower you and not make an honest woman out of you after that.” He spreads his fingers out and gropes the plump flesh of your breasts with his hands; his palms brushing against your hardening nipples makes you bite back a sigh. 

“I mean--I meant--we’re not doing, I don’t want to do--”

He leans forward and rubs his nose against your cheek. “Don’t worry, I’ll go easy on you. I like foreplay.”

“Foreplay?” You ask, helplessly, naively. 

“Fuck, that’s cute,” he sighs. He begins to rub at your nipples with his thumbs, and there’s a warm, prickling sensation in them that makes your toes begin to curl.  “You know how many times I jerked off thinking about these tits?”

“Stop,” you say, breathy. It feels good, and you hate it, but it doesn’t hurt--it doesn’t hurt, at least. That’s what you tell yourself to keep your mouth from screaming.

He ignores your words and squishes your breasts together with his hand, making them balloon almost comically.

“They’re so big, you know?” He pushes and pulls them apart. “How do you even stand up with these things?” 

Humiliation blooms in  your throat.

“Don’t be mad,” he says. “I’m not trying to insult them.” He sighs, then, and goes back to rubbing your nipples with his fingers, eliciting a whimper from your lips. “They’re gorgeous. Nice and big…”

Another whimper, this one louder, making you press your palm against your mouth.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” He leans down, peering over his glasses. “Feels good when my fingers play with your tits?”

It does. You shake your head. But it does.

Gojo tsks lightly. You feel one hand leave your breast and reach down, down--sliding underneath the waistband of your skirt. Your body lurches but he’s too heavy and strong and you can’t move, even as he swipes his fingers down your underwear. You can feel the way his digits meet some slickness, smearing it around on the other side of the fabric.

“Your mouth can lie, but down here… you’re leaking.”

Your heart lurches with the memory of your leaking cursed energy, with the memory of the hard floor--and with the knowledge that it’s happening again. 

Without fanfare, he grabs the waistband of your skirt and begins to shimmy it down. You kick and struggle, little noises escaping your lips that surely aren’t loud enough to be heard outside the walls. But it doesn’t matter. He’s stronger than you. 

Your underwear goes down next, and you cringe at the feeling of wetness clinging to the soft material as he peels them down your legs. With your clothes gone, it’s easy for him to grip your upper thighs and pull them apart, exposing you directly to him.

“Gojo--” Your throat is dry and your words hoarse.

“Your pussy is prettier than I remember,” he says, ignoring your protests, ignoring the way your legs squirm. “Look--did your clit just twitch? Is it saying hello?” He smiles up at you, stupidly, and some part of you wonders if he really thinks you’ll laugh at what he’s saying. All you can do is swallow against rising bile.

“I was going to eat you out until you squealed first,” he begins, voice low. “But I don’t think I can wait. Besides, you look wet enough.” He rubs his thumb against your clit and you slap your hand back against your mouth at the sudden jolt of pleasure. 

You know what he’s doing, even if you don’t want to admit it. You know before he reaches down and shoves his pants down around his ankles. You know before his boxers come down next. You know before you see his cock, hard like the last time.

How in the world is that going to fit inside you? You think. You feel, dimly, your privates clench and twitch at nothing.

“Your body is eager,” he tells you, cooing. “Even if you pretend that you’re not.”

“I’m not,” you murmur. He doesn’t listen. Your fingers grip the sheets of your body and you think dimly about what you’ve heard about sex. All you know is that you weren’t supposed to have it with anyone but your husband, lest you produce unwanted bastards to soil your family’s good name. Your mother had taught you all about the value of your “flower,” the importance of being chaste and virtuous. 

And here you are, splayed on your bed, with Gojo about to take it all away from you.

You let out a whimper when he leans forward and rubs the tip of his cock in your folds. It’s thick and warm. 

“Gojo,” you say, voice tight.

“Satoru,” he chides, sweetly. “I’m about to fuck you, honey, you can call me Satoru.” 

You press your lips together and tighten your fingers on the sheets as he finally moves his hips forward, pressing his cock inside you, slowly.

It hurts. Enough that tears prick at the edges of your eyes, and you let out a soft, pained keen.

Gojo’s there, kissing you, as soon as it leaves your lips. His fingers brush away your tears even as he pushes forward, filling you up more, stretching you. The ache deepens, there’s a sting with it--you wonder if you’ll bleed, like your sister says she did, on her wedding night.

It doesn’t stop once he’s inside you. He pulls his hips back--there’s a brief relief from the feeling when he’s mostly out--before he pushes back in, and the ache reignites, making you jolt and whimper against his lips.

“Shh,” he tells you. One of his hands trails down your stomach, down your thigh, to rest against the top of your sex. His thumb begins to rub out slow circles, and an unwanted aching pleasure begins to build there. 

It doesn’t make the pain go away. It doesn’t make the humiliation go away. All it does is introduce a sick sort of pleasure that makes you feel worse about yourself. How could you like this? It should be impossible, for your body to begin to feel a low, rolling pleasure that cuts through the pain–cuts through the horror–of what’s happening to you.

You whimper, bubbling out a little cry, and Gojo presses sweet kisses to your cheeks.

“That’s it, that’s my girl, you like that, don’t you?” The sweetness of his words is underscored by the wet sound of his cock thrusting inside you, by a faint slapping sensation against you every time he does. 

But you do like it. Or your body does, and you’re not sure what the difference is, splayed on your bed, all warmth and sweat and aches. Gojo’s thumb presses deeper and your mouth opens–you gasp and he swallows your noises in a kiss, not letting up until his thumb is rubbing hard enough that your body arches and there’s a coil snapping inside you.

You grunt, animal-like, into his mouth. He grunts right back and shame curls over you, even as your body spasms in forced bliss. You can feel yourself clenching around him, as if you wanted him, as if you were trying to make the sex better for him.

He doesn’t pull away until you’re done clenching around him, and you shut your eyes for a moment to avoid looking at the almost dopey, pleased expression on his face.

The realizations hit you like slaps  in the wake of your orgasm. 

He made you orgasm. It felt good. You liked it, you hated it. You want more, you never want it again. 

You just lost your virginity--still losing it, he’s not done–the precious commodity that your mother told you to guard well--on your bed. Before marriage. Before you were even in love. Before anything. 

How could it be any other way, with Gojo Satoru? He takes, takes, takes. Takes what he wants because he can, because he knows it belongs to him, if he wants it. You, included. 

There’s a gentle pat on your cheek and you realize Gojo is patting you, tapping you like he might a dazed sorcerer whose head met the rough end of concrete during a fight.

“Don’t get lost on me, now. Look at me… hey, you still here?”

“Yes,” you whisper, although it comes out more stuttered than you’d like with the shake of your body as he thrusts.

He plants a sloppy kiss on your mouth and moves faster. It hurts, still, but some of the more pressing sting is gone. Instead it’s an uncomfortable, new ache. 

“You look so good like this, y’know?” His hands go from your cheeks to your breasts, and he squeezes them. “All ready to be filled up.”

His words take a moment to make any sense--and even then, you’re still not quite sure.

“Fill me… up?”

His thrusts get faster, and you hear your own breath stuttering stupidly as he fucks you. “Like I said--” His words are half-panting, but you get the feeling that they needn’t be; he only wants to seem undone, you think. “Want to fuck you. Want to breed you.” His hands squeeze your breasts, kneading at the flesh. “You’ll get real big, won’t you? With a baby in your stomach, just one at first, but--” He starts to speed up now, and you see a faint redness on his cheeks. “Fuck, who knows how many we’ll have.”

Cold fear clenches your stomach tight, and you resist the primal urge to gag.

“My-my parents,” you plead. Your parents would never let this happen, would they? Not if you told them the truth?

Gojo leans above you, looking down at you with a lascivious expression as he begins to thrust faster, making your breasts wobble with the motion.

“Your parents already approve. They feel honored, and they should, that I want to marry you. Have kids with you. Merge our bloodlines. Might have to fudge the due date, if this takes, but…” 

He doesn’t finish his sentence. Instead, his head veers down towards yours, and his lips practically crash into your mouth as he kisses you and presses himself deep inside you. He groans into your mouth and a warm, gooey feeling blossoms inside you at the same time. He came–inside you. You knew enough to know that was a bad thing, as far as potential pregnancies went. 

When he pulls back from the kiss, he pulls back his hips, and something warm trickles out with his cock. It’s an awful feeling. The soreness, the wetness. The feeling of being used.

“Couldn’t have done it without you,” he says, voice tinged with something warm and breathy. “Did you like that? Making me come?” 

You don’t answer.

Gojo doesn’t seem to mind. He flops down next to you and catches his breath.

“We should go back out there pretty soon,” he says airily. “They’ll be expecting us. Your parents, that is.”

Your voice is a croak. “What do you mean?”

Gojo leans up on his elbows and gives you a cheeky grin. “Oh, I forgot to tell you! I told your parents I was staying for dinner. Figured I’d work up an appetite in here… plus we can tell them all about our engagement over dessert. Two birds, one stone?”

You don’t answer. Instead, you stare up at the ceiling, with its ornamented paintings. Pretty flowers and trees that your mother picked out when you were a baby.  You had no input in it, just like you have no say in anything now. 

No birds on the ceiling. 

There are only the stones in the pit of your stomach, waiting to be retched up. 

#yandere gojo satoru #yandere gojo #yandere jjk #yandere #afterwitch writes

[teapartyprincess4two]

Talkative- M. Sturniolo

pairing: Yapper!reader x Boyfriend!Matt

classification: SFW & NSFW headcannons

inspiration: request

warnings: some 18+ content, use of y/n, established relationship

summary: head cannons of Matt with a talkative, yapper girlfriend!

Talkative- C. Sturniolo (Chris’s Version)

Talkative- N. Sturniolo (Nick’s Version)

—

☆ SFW

It’s no secret that you love to talk, you can ramble on about topic after topic and never run out of things to say. Matt loves listening to you, whether you’re retelling your day or just discussing a topic you find interesting.

☆ you always ask him rhetorical questions in between your stories, “Okay, but can you believe she said that?” But you never give him enough time to respond.

☆ he just nods his head and hums in response, confused with all the characters of the story.

☆ when you’re watching a movie you always start asking questions about the characters or commenting on the scene.

☆ “why did they do that?” or “wow that’s a cute dress, I really like that.”

☆ most times he responds just so you know he’s listening, but other times he’ll ignore you because he’s too immersed in the movie.

☆ “Y/n I don’t fucking know, this is my first time watching this movie too,” and “That is a cute dress, baby. You’d look nice in it.”

☆ you’re ALWAYS last to finish your meal, mostly because you keep talking in between bites.

☆ he listens intently, responding in between mouthfuls of food with small “uh huh’s” and “yup’s.”

☆ by the end of your stories you’re usually not hungry anymore, so he eats your leftovers while you start yet another story.

☆ when you guys go through drive throughs he knows to just sit as far back into the drivers seat as possible.

☆ you’re leaning over him, chatting with the worker and somehow managing to learn their whole life story before you can even order.

☆ or when you’re going somewhere new and he needs the GPS you’ll constantly talk over it

☆ after missing like five exits, he begins to find it annoying

☆ “Babe, shhhhh,” he’ll smother your mouth with his hand while he grips the wheel with the other.

☆ that never stops you though, you just mumble from behind his hand.

☆ you’re such a good story teller that he can imagine everything you say.

☆ your stories have him dying of laughter, and it’s even funnier that you don’t laugh, you just continue telling the stories like normal.

☆ by the end of your story his face and ribs hurt from laughing so much, “Holy fuck that was hilarious.”

☆ when you say outlandish things he stares at you in shock, “Y/n! You can’t say that!”

☆ you just stare at him blankly and continue voicing your opinions.

☆ he looks at anyone who tells you to shut up with the ugliest, meanest stank face.

☆ you talk to EVERYONE whether it be in the checkout line in the grocery store or in the waiting room at the doctors office.

☆ Matt just turns away for one second and then when he looks back at you, you’re talking to an elderly lady and walking in the complete opposite direction.

☆ “Aw Matt, she said her cat died.”

☆ “Y/n, the cashier asked for your card.”

☆ “Oh, right! So sorry about that-”

☆ “You know what? I’ll pay for it,” he cuts you off before your rambling can distract you again.

☆ on the odd days that you’re quiet, he’ll know somethings wrong.

☆ you’re just sitting on the couch, scrolling through Netflix on the TV or typing away mindlessly on your laptop.

☆ “What’s wrong with you?” he says abrasively, like if he’s upset that you’re quiet.

☆ you’ll just shake your head, choosing to remain silent.

☆ “Did somebody do something to you? Why are you so quiet?” he’s ready to fight whoever made you upset.

☆ “I’m just tired,” you mumble, followed with a quick shrug.

☆ He doesn’t pry, he just lays with you and waits until your mood picks up so he can listen to more stories.

☆ if he ever starts telling someone a story you’re quick to interrupt, “no that’s not what happened!”

☆ he playfully rolls his eyes and lets you take the spotlight.

☆ NSFW

Although Matt loves listening to you talk, sometimes it becomes too much. So, he has to get creative and think of ways to shut you up.

☆ the movie is getting good and you won’t stop talking, asking about the characters and the storyline.

☆ next thing you know you’re on your knees with Matt’s dick in your mouth.

☆ he’ll let you do all the work as he continues to watch the movie in silence.

☆ sometimes you’re a little too friendly with strangers.

☆ Matt’s not usually the jealous type, but he knows that guys get the wrong idea when you’re talking to them and that they mistake your friendliness for flirting.

☆ he’ll pull you away and take you to a secluded area, “we gotta go.”

☆ “Wait but I wasn’t finished talk-“

☆ “we gotta go, Y/n.”

☆ then he’s fucking you and making you talk to him through it, “C’mon, I thought you weren’t finished talking.”

☆ you’re forced to babble your way through it, each thrust fogging your brain more and more.

☆ other times he’ll let you use your words to praise him.

☆ like when he’s eating you out, he just wants to hear you say how good he’s doing.

☆ “Yes, baby, right there. You’re making me feel so good.”

☆ after, he’ll make you ride him and whisper sweet nothings into his ear.

☆ “You feel so good, baby. So big, I can’t take it.”

☆ your words are always enough to send him into a frenzy.

☆ he’s wrapping his arms around your waist and bucking into you until he cums.

☆ when you guys are done having sex, he’ll cuddle into your side and lay his head on your chest while you play with his hair.

☆ these are the moments when he talks and you just listen, only chiming in occasionally.

—

MASTERLIST

A/n:

YAP 🗣️YAP 🗣️YAP🗣️

thank you for this request I luv that I’m cementing my legacy as a certified yapper 😏

- L.A.M.B👼🏻💗

—

taglist: @nicksmainbitch @sturniololovers @mayhem-72 @worldlxvlys @gnxosblog @meg-sturniolo @creamoncreamoncream2 @mattnchrisworld @sanyi5 @lustfulslxt @whicked-hazlatwhore @tworosesblackthorn

note: if you want to be tagged in my fanfic related posts, you can access my TAGLIST and comment 💐

#teapartyanonreqs✨💗 #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #sturniolo #matthew sturniolo imagine #matthew sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #matt x y/n #matt x reader #matt sturniolo x you #matthew sturniolo #matthew sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo headcannons #matthew sturniolo x y/n #matthew bernard sturniolo #matthew sturniolo oneshot #matthew sturniolo fanfic #sturniolos #chris sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo fanfic #nicolas sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo fanfic #christopher sturniolo x y/n #christopher sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo imagine #chris x y/n

[oreoluvskento]

hate sex w nanami

a/n: uhhhh heres that hate sex fic i promised two months ago :D my bad yall i got really busy and lost all motivation to keep writing on here, but i'm back now :)

cw: female reader, wrote this with black reader in mind but no mention of specific race, NOT PROOFREAD, no use of y/n, cunnilingus, overstimulation, cum swallowing, brat tamer nanami, brat reader, im very horny, that should be me honestly

"fuck, what are we doing?" you ask as you and nanami kiss feverishly. he climbs up onto his desk with you, laying you down onto your back roughly.

"don't know," he growls, his hand coming up to cup your jaw as he kisses his way down to your neck. your eyes widen as he bites you, and you feel your knees go weak when he pushes his thigh against your throbbing core while sucking your neck at the same time.

"i thought you couldn't stand me," you moan, rutting yourself against him, to which he groans at. he reaches down and tugs your pants off, your legs kicking them away.

"i can't," he answers, now tossing your underwear to the side and kissing his way down your thighs.

about two minutes earlier, you and nanami were just yelling at each other about your recent mission. you had a plan and nanami completely disregarded it for it's lack of, well, planning. you were more erratic and spontaneous, wanting to go with the flow, while nanami was more calculated and careful, always wanting to stay organized.

you barged in immediately after your checkup with shoko, still fuming because he ignored you when you tried to ask him on your way back about why the plans changed. you complained to shoko about it, to which she said "instead of yelling at me, why not go yell at him," to which you took literally.

nanami didn't acknowledge you once ever since you came in, which infuriated you even further. although his face was stoic, a slightly noticeable vein was popping out of his forehead and his fingers were gripping his pen tighter.

you spun him around in his seat, still complaining in his face, your noses almost touching, which ended up being his last straw. "you are incredibly childish, irresponsible, and i simply have no respect for you at all! you endanger our lives every time we go on a mission together, but all you can think about is how much fun you're having! you're selfish, and honestly a little bit dense, and i wish you'd shut up and leave, you're disturbing my peace."

your eyes widen as he speaks, his voice barely raising but his anger clearly showing. "you can kiss my ass." you grit and the look of disgust that appears on his face makes you even angrier. before you can say anything, he beats you to it.

"please leave," he says, standing up and now looking down at you.

feeling stubborn, you stand your ground and cross your arms. "no," you childishly protest and he leans his head back with a sigh.

"leave or-"

"or what?" you interrupt, moving closer to him and something in the atmosphere changes. for you it could've been the way he looked at you with such an intimidating expression, one that made you submit almost too quickly. for him it could've been the way you were pressed up against him, your chest against his and your pelvises almost touching.

before you could process what was going on, you were sitting on his desk, his lips attacking yours furiously and you were kissing him back.

his mouth is now on your pussy, eating you out like you were his favorite meal, his anger fueling his actions. "fuck don't stop, it feels so good," you moan and nanami grunts against your clit.

"stop fucking talking," he growls, his tongue darting back out to play with your clit and you slide your hands into his hair.

"fuck...you," you respond, breathless as he continues to mercilessly eat you out. nanami sucks your clit into his mouth over and over again, essentially treating it as a pacifier, and just when you think you're about to cum, he stops and inserts two fingers inside you.

"who knew something so sweet could come out of someone so bitter," he teases, watching as your pussy swallows his digits. you're unable to speak properly, your mouth open mid gasp and your back arching off the table. nanami speeds up, the sound making him even harder, and you finally gain your ability to speak again.

"shut up and eat- oh fuck- me out," you moan, pushing his head back onto your pussy and he complies, slurping away what has been produced by his ministrations. you choke on another moan and rut your hips against his face, to which he responds by holding your hips in place with his free hand. now completely controlling your pleasure, nanami fingers you faster, the tips of his fingers constantly brushing against your g-spot and before you knew it, you were having an orgasm.

you struggle to stay quiet as your body lights up but you find it difficult as nanami refuses to let up, his fingers fighting against your constricting walls and his tongue still hard at work on your clit. as you come down, you truly start to feel the overstimulation and try to pull away. "mm mm, stay right here. you should've left when i told you to. now it's my turn," he says, muffled by your pussy and you cry out when he starts sucking your sensitive clit again.

"please, its too much, i can't," you plead but it falls onto deaf ears as he goes on. nanami adds another finger and your eyes roll to the back of your head, the stretch adding a new sensation to focus on.

"if only you were as obedient as your pussy. look at how she sucks me right in," he coos and you subconsciously get tighter at his teasing. he chooses not to say anything about it yet, and focuses on stretching you out for his dick. your breathing picks up and nanami recognizes the cues for your next orgasm so he dives back onto your clit, spitting on it and slurping it loosely.

you cum unexpectedly this time and nanami keeps fucking you through it, your body thrashing against his hold. he finally pulls away from you, sitting up to look at your blissed out face. you open your eyes when he grabs onto your jaw with one hand and prods at your mouth with the other.

"open," he commands and you do as he says, the fuzz in your brain stopping you from thinking clearly. he puts his fingers into your mouth and you moan as you suck away the mess on them. he pulls you off the desk and leans you against it, your upper body folded over it now.

he pushes his clothed erection against you from behind and groans when you push back against him. nanami thinks about teasing you some more but he has a meeting with yaga about your partnership soon and he's racing against time. he quickly pulls his dick out, the tip turning slightly red as it's been begging for attention sine he kissed you.

your head is down when he pushes into you and you snap it up when you feel the way it stretches you out. a high pitched moan escapes you and nanami slaps his hand over your mouth while pulling you up to talk to you. "shut up, i'm not even all the way in yet," he rasps and you et out a sound of desperation.

once he bullies the rest of his cock inside of you, he pulls out and snaps his hips back into yours, and if it wasn't for his hand on your mouth, the entire academy would've heard the moan that came out of you. nanami sets a relentless pace, his anger towards you growing the louder you get.

"you really don't know how to be quiet, huh?" he growls, pushing all the way into you, shimmying his hips to get deeper, and you fall over, stopping yourself from moaning this time. tears come to your eyes and he fucks you deeply, the pleasure too much for you to handle and your knees going weak. nanami realizes you effort and scoffs to himself. "so you do know how to follow directions? i knew it wouldn't take much to put a brat like you in her place," he says and nod furiously, not even sure of what he's saying.

he speeds up now, his eyes fixated on the way your ass jiggles every time he thrusted into it. your pussy begins squeezing him like it did earlier but nanami isn't having it. he pulls you up by your hair and grabs you by your throat. "you'll wait, do you understand me? hold it until i say you can cum," he instructs and you let out a whine in protest. ultimately, you listen, and although it was extremely hard to focus on not cumming, you succeed.

nanami takes the hand on your throat and begins rubbing your clit with it. "make sure you stay quiet just like this. go ahead and cum for me," he says and not even a second later your gushing all over his dick. he moans out curses as you cum, your pussy holding onto his dick and when you're done, he pulls out. he yanks your shoulder and pushes you onto the ground, and you catch on, taking his dick in your hand and stroking it.

this is your first time seeing it and god was it big. you take the tip in your mouth and bob your way down his shaft, wanting to feel it in your throat. nanami moans as you suck him off and before long, he cums in your mouth. you swallow it as it comes and when he's done, he pulls you back to your feet. he carries you onto the desk and rubs the side of your hips as he comes down from his own high, his head on your shoulder.

"i'm sorry for barging in here and acting an ass," you say softly and he chuckles, his head still down.

"i'm sorry for calling you childish, irrisponsible, selfsih-"

"alright, i get it you're sorry!" you interrupt and he laughs a little harder. he stands up, tucks his dick away, and helps you put your pants back on before giving you a bottle of water and watching you leave.

later that day, during his meeting with yaga, at which he wanted to request a partner switch, he decided on sticking with you for just a little longer.

#jjk nanami #nanami kento #nanami kento fluff #nanami kento x reader #nanami x reader #jjk smut #nanami kento smut #nanami smut #nanami x black reader #nanami x black!reader #jujutsu nanami #nanami x y/n #nanami x you #nanami x reader smut

[actually-safer-to-kiss]

Girlfriend Interrupted

Summary: Reader had a bad day at work and Spencer's complaints are not the best timing.

Couple: Spencer/Fem!Reader

Category: Hurt/comfort

Content warnings: Mentions of food, hunger, and prolonged time without eating

Word count: 887

The bus rumbles across the old asphalt and bricked crosswalks while hissing at stops. All you could do was lay your head against the window and try not to fall asleep or accidentally smash it into the glass after hitting a precarious pothole. You were three stops away from home and all you wanted to do was lock yourself in the apartment and gorge on the least healthy meal you could find. 

You had a healthy meal planned for lunch today actually; a salad filled to the nines (the nines being roasted chicken, nuts, pomegranate, and honeydew). It was perfect. So perfect in fact that someone stole it from the fridge when you were in the middle of beating a deadline. And even after being successful in that, your boss still found time to yell at you for something another co-worker did. You weren’t sure which one, but it wasn’t you. You’ve been nibbling on a granola bar on the ride, but your mind is occupied by the leftover lasagna in the fridge.

And you find it there, waiting for you under the stark refrigerator light. You yank it from the bottom shelf and don’t even consider looking at the microwave. You barely looked at the dishes you left in the sink after breakfast this morning and remember how behind you were when getting ready for work, telling yourself you’d put them in the dishwasher before Spencer got home. You did say you’d do that. And Spencer doesn’t like dishes in the sink.

 Instead, you grab the blanket from the back of the couch and settle in the dark, pulling up a YouTube video you’ve been meaning to watch. You rest your phone against the book spines Spencer had specifically picked out to be displayed for their guests (mainly your parents during the holidays and his co-workers). Most of them are about astronomy, nothing you’ve cared to pick up. They’re detailed enough to keep Spencer entertained and sturdy enough to keep your phone upright while you slurped up tomato sauce and ricotta cheese. And so you snuggled in like a kid watching Saturday cartoons, sugary cereal at the ready.

And it’s when you think of your boyfriend again that the door behind you opens with a creak. The thud of his cane echoes across the wood floor as that same door clicks as he shuts it. You manage to say “Hey, Spence” through your glorious mouthful of a rushed dinner. But Spencer says nothing back. He’s been struggling not just with his knee acting up again after his previous surgery, but with being unable to travel with his team. The thud of Spencer’s cane trails from the entryway to the kitchen. It was a tough day for both of you, no doubt.

Your sympathies started to wane though when Spencer interrupted your video.

“Ugh, Y/N. I told you I don’t like dishes in the sink.”

“I know.” You tried to say without a mouthful. “And I’m sorry. I was running late for work and needed to get going before—”

“And you left the fridge door open, too. We talked about needing to cut back before our lease renewal. The National Weather Service expects an uptick in accumulation by late December.”

You pause your video and turn in your seat. “Sorry, I was going to do it when I got home, but I needed to eat because someone stole—”

“And you’re eating the lasagna from the tray? We have clean bowls. You could easily grab one from—”

“Let me talk!” You ended up shouting. It was sudden for both of you. You’re never one to raise your voice and Spencer has never been one to fuck up bad enough to witness it. It forces Spencer to freeze in place, like that accumulation he talked about just rushed through the apartment on your command. It would be funny if it was some sort of command if you already weren’t teetering on the edge of tears. The sting in your nose already started traveling to your eyes. They welled up and Spencer quickly became a blur as you started to sob, the trials of a bad day finally getting to you. You let your chest heave and tears streak down your cheeks, hoping at least a portion of the stress will subside afterward.

You didn’t expect Spencer to be right next to you. You didn’t hear his cane once on the floor. It was against the arm of the couch. And he was on the floor, resting on his knees. Of course, you’re too distressed to point out that is the last thing he should be doing if he wants to avoid more surgery so badly. Plus he’s busy with taking the meal off of your lap. “Come here,” he tells you. He’s holding your hands. His hands are just as frigid as the lasagna. But he pulls you up as he tries to stand, meeting you on (somewhat) equal footing to bring you into a hug. It’s warm, obviously. All of his hugs are warm. He wears cotton-only cardigans and wears layers of clothes even at the peak of summer. “I’m sorry.” He says. “Just let it out. I’m here.”

“Spence. Your knee.”

“It’s fine.”

“You need to—”

“Be here. Which I am.” And he holds you tighter.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid hurt/comfort #spencer reid comfort #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid/you #spencer reid/reader #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid self insert #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid blurb #criminal minds #criminalminds #criminal minds self insert #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds drabble

[stayevildarling]

Natasha Romanoff x Reader- Russian Roulette

A/N: I know my followers and Sarah lovers will kill me for posting this before posting another Sarah fic but honestly I'm just lacking motivation for those characters right now 🫶🏻 I had this kinda enemy to lovers idea and I couldn't resist 🤷🏻‍♀️ thank you @billiebeanhoward for your help with this one <3

prompt: Natasha wasn't very fond of you and she couldn't hide it. Noticing the tension between you two, Tony ends up sending you two on a ,,mission'' causing for you both to get to know and love each other a little better.

tags/warnings: female reader, mention of cursing, mention of violence/fighting (mild), mention of guns/drugs (mild), Natasha being a little mean at the beginning, angst, fluff at the end

word count: 10k (I apologise for the somewhat rushed ending but I know some people hate reading long fics. I also apologise for any mistakes. I tried proofreading this twice)

taglist: (if you want to be added just sent me an ask/dm or comment)

@lunaticwhittaker , @billiebeanhoward , @lanawinters-ily , @kenzbro , @minaslittleone , @httpfiftyshadesofgay, @whitelotus00, @ninaahs, @vintagepaulson, @isle-of-earle, @paulsonsratched, @stepintomyworld, @grilledcheeseandguavajelly, @lucyintheskywithxanax, @fanfics4world, @mymiraclewitch, @hazard-to-myself, @awritersometime, @ohrwurm26, @wastdstime

It had been an ordinary day at the avengers compound so far, the weather had been lovely today, despite some dark clouds lingering in the air. It even made training some new recruits outside today possible, which most of you enjoyed, sending them running across the fields, especially Steve who it often reminded of his earlier days in training for the army. For you, the day had been ordinary so far, starting with breakfast, before hitting the gym and doing some weights and cardio before joining some others in the sun and enjoying the weather outside. The only thing on your agenda today had been a meeting with some of the other avengers, including Tony who had called for the meeting.

The meeting started off normally, as it would always, some chatting and bickering before Tony interrupted you all by telling you what he wanted. Wanda had made some pastries for everyone and you couldn't help but chuckle at how most of them stuffed their mouths full and suddenly turned from intimidating and strong superheros to almost adorable beings. However you couldn't ignore the tension, reminding you of the weather before, sunshine and laughter before being replaced with some dark clouds and long faces. It wasn't really many long faces, it was Natasha Romanoff. As soon as Tony had mentioned the upcoming missions and that he was sending you on another one, the room had turned much quieter as her green eyes shot daggers at both you and Tony.

You had always been fond of Natasha, since joining the avengers almost a year back. You appreciated the thought of another woman on the team. Of course there was Wanda, but she was mostly around when her magic was needed, plus she still had her own things and didn't always join you. You appreciated the thought of another badass woman who definitely knows how to fight and you assumed it would make being on a team with mostly men a lot easier. However, you quickly learned that Natasha was either- just like those said men or she simply didn't care for you or anyone. You had tried to make friends with her, often offering to train some new recruits with her, bring her a meal after a long mission and she refused to join the others or even make light conversation. However, she was always closed off around you, never sharing any details- let alone a smile or polite gesture the way she would with the others.

In the end you had brushed it off, assuming she simply didn't like you or that it took a very long time for her to get used to someone. The thought of her being jealous or even intimidated had indeed crossed your mind once, however you had brushed it off before you could properly think about it, knowing Natasha was definitely more experienced, tougher and stronger than you are. And you had been confused, as to why Tony kept sending you on missions. Why he never paired you up with Natasha or made it even between you two. When he broke the news of the last mission, you had even thought about offering it to Natasha or her coming along but with her death glare, you didn't dare speak up to the redhead woman.

It took mere seconds after the meeting ended, Bucky sharing some details with you as he had been familiar with the country and area, the others chatting along before Natasha stormed out. Clint's eyes following her and him quick to follow behind. After some more chatting, you excused yourself, before making your way into the hallway, feeling the strange urge to follow the redhead as well, despite knowing it may not be a good idea and equally having to get going as one of the jets would be ready in about an hour. As you make your way towards your room, you notice the shadow of both Natasha and Clint in the hallway, her features tense and his noticing your presence. Despite feeling the urge to say something, you simply brush past them, unable to ignore how stern her eyes followed your every move and feeling slightly intimidated, despite the comforting smile that Clint tried to give you to ease the tension.

,,This is bullshit'' you hear her say, her accent thick due to her frustration, before you make your way into your room to gather your things and prepare for your mission.

----

The next time you find yourself at the all too familiar avengers compound which had also been your home for a while, it's about a week later. Your mission had been successful, gathering all the information that Tony had intented for this big operation they had worked on. Your work had been small really, working undercover in one of the labs they had managed to sneak you inside and gathering all the information by accessing their database but also talking to the employes. Somehow, despite not having powers like Wanda possessed, your gut always told you when someone was lying or was hiding something, equally when danger lurked nearby. You never managed to quite put a meaning or reasoning behind this but it had always been that way so you eventually stopped questioning it and simply went along with it.

As you exit the jet, rain instantly greets you as you hurry inside, wanting nothing more than to get in the shower before the debriefing and having to work on your mission reports. As you walk past some of the avengers, you do some joking with Steve, Bucky asking some questions and Wanda asking how you truly are. She often asked you, checking in with you and with her you genuinely feel like someone cared about your wellbeing, of course the others did too but she had a very different way of showing it. After eventually washing of the stress from the past few days, quickly braiding your hair as you aren't in the mood to dry it and throw on some clothes, you join the others in the meeting room. Your eyes dart around the room and search Natasha's for some reason and you notice that she seemed much less tense than the other week.

What you had missed the previous week was how Clint somehow convinced Natasha to speak up for herself, to tell Tony that she didn't appreciate you getting all the missions since joining, how she felt neglected and that her needs weren't met anymore. Some of the guys had overheard the conversation and simply shared knowing glances as they had noticed the tension between you two but also the undeniable attraction towards each other, despite both you and the redhead oblivious to the later feeling still. He had promised her to include her in missions more and that he had no intention of making her feel those things, despite cracking a few jokes here and there which the Russian definitely didn't appreciate given the circumstances.

,,Great work Clint, Y/N'' Tony tells you as he begins the meeting, both Hawkeye and you having been on separate missions but practically around the same time as he left a day after you and returned a few hours prior to your arrival. The team ends up chatting a little as you fill them in on the details and intel you had managed to gather. Your eyes occasionally find their way to Natasha who simply looks either through you or with her usual stern expression, you couldn't really tell. ,,Well, considering how things went'' Tony begins, trailing off a little as he walks around the table, eventually looking into the distance and overlooking the grounds. ,,I have another mission regarding another matter... top secret stuff'' he tells you and you truly hope he wasn't about to send you on another one considering you had just returned.

,,I think we need some girl power for this one, so I'm sending Natasha and Y/N tomorrow'' he begins and your eyes widen a little as your breath hitches. The redheads jaws drop, while the others simply share knowing glances, Steve and Bucky even chuckling a little and their eyes almost speaking silently as if they knew more about this. ,,That sounds great'' Wanda tries, lifting the mood a little but Natasha again simply looks at Tony as if she is about to kill him, clearly not what she meant when she said she wanted more missions. ,,And it's in a beautiful location too'' Iron man continues talking as your eyes keep wandering to the redhead who simply acts like you aren't present. ,,Which is?'' her voice rings through the air, her accent again thick due to her frustration. ,,Paris'' he exclaims almost cheerfully and this time the two of you fail to register the knowing glances and smirks from your other members. ,,City of love'' Steve exclaims with a chuckle ,,Sounds romantic'' Bucky teases which causes for you and Natasha to equally roll your eyes. ,,It's the city of light actually'' she mocks them, fake matching their giddiness.

A few minutes later, the meeting comes to an end and this time you are the one pretty much straight out, not minding the mission with Natasha, despite having a feeling it wouldn't be pleasant. You simply wanted to finish your mission reports and catch up on some very needed rest. As you pass the gym on the way to your room, you watch as Natasha walks in, preparing one of her protein shakes in the corner after equally storming out of the meeting. This time you listen to the feeling in your gut and linger by the door a few moments before knocking gently, not to startle the redhead. ,,Hi'' you exclaim quietly and she simply watches as you linger by the door. ,,How do you feel about the mission?'' you ask sincerly, ready to offer her to speak to Tony so he could maybe convince to swap you with Clint as you had a feeling she hated this.

,,How am I supposed to feel? it's a mission'' she exclaims, scoffing almost before continuing to mix her protein shake and the question makes you feel stupid, despite your best intentions. And somehow, something within you snaps, having been nothing but kind to the woman and her never repaying you in the slightest, not even with being able to have a normal conversation with you. And so the words following practically burst out of you ,,You know you don't have to do it with me, considering you hate me so much'' you huff in annoyance, trying hard to ignore the lump in your throat before turning on your heels and walking off, not necessarily in the mood to hear the words that would probably follow. To your surprise, Natasha turns around at your words, her eyebrows raised, not in anger but in shock as she certainly didn't expect you to be this forward as usually you are always kind, quiet around her and she knew you cared about her feelings and wellbeing due to the little acts you would do for her.

,,I don't hate you Y/N'' is what she really wanted to say, despite having some line ready about ,,Stop being ridiculous, it's a mission and we have to stay professional''. The words simply get caught in her throat as you leave and she can't help but feel bad for having sent you away like this. Truth to be told, Natasha didn't hate you, she felt intimidated by another female Avenger who shared the same abilities than her. You were clever, had some great instincts and you for sure could fight. She never minded the backup at first and she felt some strange connection between you two despite not really knowing all that much about you. However, she hated when it eventually turned into you getting all the missions she desired, despite the stubborn redhead deep down knowing that it wasn't your fault, that you never bragged, never asked Tony and that you probably wouldn't have minded giving some of them to her. With a roll of her eyes, mostly towards herself, she continues doing some of her training, trying to ignore the bad feeling in the pit of her stomach for how this conversation went.

Eventually the avengers find themselves in the dining room, it being pizza night everyone actually joining this time. The sun was slowly setting in the background, coating the room with several large glass windows in beautiful shapes of orange and yellow. As they all flow into easy conversation, your absence doesn't go unnoticed. Especially Wanda knows you absolutely adored Pizza night and the concern was practically written across her face as she hadn't seen you since the meeting hours before. Despite trying to tell herself that this was probably due to you wanting to get some rest, she still couldn't help but feel concerned. ,,Hey Wands, have you seen Y/N?'' the voice from Clint rings through the air, startling the witch a little as she almost clumsily drops her plate. ,,No I haven't'' she almost frowns and she misses how a certain redhead follows the conversation, also having noticed your absence and despite her not knowing about your adoration for pizza night, she had noticed.

,,I'll check on her'' Wanda announces and Natasha watches as she retrieves some slices of your favourite pizza before heading off. ,,You alright there?'' Clint asks as he takes a seat besides Natasha, gladly accepting one of the beer cans Thor handed him. ,,Yeah'' she absentmindedly announces, avoiding his gaze. ,,Ready for your mission then?'' he trails off, causing Natasha to meet his gaze as she simply nods. ,,You know what they say Paris is beautiful'' he begins as he takes another bite of his pizza. ,,And after all, maybe the two of you will actually get to know each other better'' he encourages which Natasha mostly ignores, not necessarily in the mood for this conversation and her being ever the perceptive one, having of course noticed the knowing glances and smirks from the others about this mission and your usual bickering.

Meanwhile a soft knocking startles you a little as you finish sending the last bit of your mission report, muttering a soft ,,Come in'' before laying eyes upon a certain ginger. ,,Hi Wands'' you chuckle a little as you watch her carry in a plate of pizza for you. ,,Are you alright? you're missing pizza night honey'' she announces, her voice soft but laced with concern nevertheless. ,,Sorry just finished these reports and was hoping to get an early night'' you exclaim, gladly taking the plate as she takes a seat at the edge of the mattress. ,,How are you feeling about it?'' she asks curiously, her eyes reading your expression before you huff. ,,I don't know'' you sigh before taking a large bite of your favourite pizza, your mouth instantly watering. ,,I'm sure it will be okay'' she announces softly, tilting her head a little as her green eyes meet yours. ,,She hates me you know'' you sigh again after swallowing. ,,She doesn't hate you darling'' Wanda assures, of course knowing who you are talking about.

,,She's always hated me and I think I hate her too'' you begin and you notice her shocked expression as this was quite unlike you. ,,Come on zlatko you don't hate her'' she tries as you really didn't feel hatred towards anyone or anything other than maybe the villains and scum you fought on missions and spiders. Of course the witch had noticed the tension between you two but she couldn't help and notice the connection you two have and having seen this type of thing a few times before. ,,I think I do Wands'' you sigh again, trying to ignore the anger bubbling out of you. ,,I have always been nice to her and she always treats me like I'm nothing'' you huff, chewing your pizza angrily which causes Wanda to giggle a little. ,,I think this mission will help you two'' she recalls, speaking as if she was very sure of her words. ,,Now get some rest'' she tries before giving you a reassuring smile and leaving you to rest.

Unfortunately rest never really arrived, as the whole night you ended up tossing and turning in bed, not being able to shake the uncomfortable feeling in the pit of your stomach and the ,,what ifs'' about the upcoming mission. And so to no surprise, you almost stumble into the kitchen the next morning, dropping your bags on the floor as you would need to leave any moment, before walking over to the coffee machine, barely awake before bumping into something. As you rub at your sleepy eyes, still yawning a little, your vision slowly fills with shades of black and red and your eyes widen as you realise you stumbled into the woman who you would go on a mission with in a few moments. ,,Shit I'm sorry'' you curse, taking a step back as she looks over your tired features with an eyebrow raised. ,,Seems like your well rested for this'' she sarcastically remarks, taking her coffee before leaving and you can't help but roll your eyes at her antics before making a coffee, grabbing one of the Iron man to go cups that Tony stacked in the kitchen and walking outside with your bags.

,,Good luck to you two, I'm sure it will be an epic one'' Tony remarks as you both pass him, Wanda giving you a reassuring smile despite frowning a little seeing your sleeping state. To both of your surprise, it's simply a quinjet with some supplies, no one is joining either of you and so as you two step inside, both of your eyes land on the seat with the controls and you knew this was gonna be one hell of a fight. ,,I assume you'll be flying?'' you remark, settling for the seat next to that one. ,,Yes, one I'm the better flyer and two I can't let you fly in this state'' she speaks before setting into her seat and strapping herself in. You simply ignore her words, before getting settled yourself, taking a sip of your coffee before glancing out the window and seeing the avengers compound slowly become smaller and smaller in the distance and with the increase of altitude.

Your eyes occasionally glance at the slightly older woman and you can't help but notice how badass she truly looked, already wearing her usual outfit and her red hair glowing. She looks very focused as she flies the jet with ease and despite the hatred you felt towards her, you couldn't ignore the feeling in your stomach, pushing it off for feeling hungry as you skipped breakfast. Eventually you lean back on your seat and Natasha glances at you, seeing you softly and soundly asleep beside her and she tries hard to fight back the little smile escaping her lips, seeing you so sleepy and adorable. Paris was for sure quite the distance and so it takes several hours before you make it remotely close, Natasha having eventually settled on auto pilot and equally relaxing in her seat. As soon as your eyes open, you stretch a little, feeling embarassed to have fallen asleep and already knowing this wouldn't have gone unnoticed by the redhead. As soon as she notices you awake, she stiffens in her seat, putting her hands back on the wheel and her eyes darting towards you. ,,You know if I had fallen asleep, we would be screwed right now'' she remarks and you simply take a deep breath, before walking towards the back.

,,Here'' you offer after a few moments, passing her a protein bar, assuming she also hadn't eaten since leaving. Her green eyes meet yours and she looks at the bar as if you had poisoned it. ,,Fine, more for me'' you huff as she hesitates before pushing one into your mouth, hoping it would fill you up. ,,You didn't poison it?'' she questions, jokingly before you roll your eyes. ,,No, here'' you offer it again and this time she takes it, taking hesitant bites. ,,So what is this mission exactly?'' you ask, really not having too many details about this. ,,No idea, I have an adress for the hotel and a target to observe'' she remarks as she looks at her Ipad, connected to the cockpit. ,,Okay sounds good'' you remark. There's a few moments of silence before you speak again ,,Ever been? to Paris I mean?'' you question before she looks at you for a brief second. ,,Nope.. you?'' she asks before you think back to your earlier days in europe mostly.

,,Yes'' you simply say, trying to fight back the flashbacks of your past. ,,Is it nice?'' she questions and you aren't sure if she's actually trying to make conversation or not. ,,I didn't really get to see a lot of it'' you trail off ,,I spent many years in europe, forced to work for an organisation'' you explain and her face grows a little serious, as your words remind the redhead of her own past and not remotely knowing about yours. ,,I'm sorry Y/N'' she speaks sincerly and this time for the first time in a very long time it feels genuine and if, even for a split second, getting to see the real Natasha Romanoff.

,,Five minutes out'' the redhead eventually breaks the silence, causing you to nod and focus on your mission rather than the hauntings of your past. With practiced ease Natasha lands the jet in a remote area, where a car is already waiting for you, keys inside which Tony surely arranged. After putting the suitcases and gear in the trunk, Natasha glances at you before throwing you the keys. ,,Your turn'' she speaks and you simply nod before settling into the drivers seat. The car ride is silent for a while as you drive through the Parisian suburbs before eventually making it to the busier areas, having driven in europe many times and therefore knowing your way. Before too long, the two of you arrive at a fancy looking hotel, a white old looking building with a valet who is quick to take your keys and someone offering you a hand with the bags.

By the large swinging doors, both you and Natasha are already greeted, quickly handed two key cards with a room number and being pointed towards the elevator door. You are the first one to realise that they gave both you and Natasha the same room numbers and your eyebrows furrow whether this may be the hideout rather than where you would be staying. It takes a minute longer for Natasha to realise as the two of you find yourself in front of the same door, stepping inside and finding a spacious hotel room, however only one bedroom with a large double bed. ,,What is this?'' she huffs before the beeping from her tablet rings through the air. Before too long she accepts a call from Tony, before he appears through a projection in front of you both. ,,Hi girls, nice journey?'' he questions with a smug smile. ,,What is this Tony?'' Natasha questions, very much not amused by the hotel room. ,,This is where you'll be staying, more intel will follow'' he explains and Natasha simply rolls her eyes. ,,Tonight I need you both at a dinner, checking out the place''' and you simply nod, listening to his instructions.

,,For your undercover identity, you are newlyweds and this is your honeymoon, rings are in the bedside table draw'' he smirks before his projection quickly leaves a very confused you and very annoyed Natasha behind. ,,Great'' she huffs before setting her bags down on a nearby floor. ,,So married and only one bed?'' you question rhetorically, hoping to lighten the mood a little but the redhead is having none of it. ,,You can take the bed'' she announces stubbornly before slumping into the small and uncomfortable looking sofa. ,,No it's okay, you can have the bed'' you try but the stubbornness practically radiates from the black widow. ,,Used to sleeping on the floor'' she announces and you simply shrug your shoulders, knowing this isn't a fight you would be able to win. ,,Fine'' you announce before taking your bags to the bedroom, before reaching for your laptop and reading up a little bit more on the mission and trying to find out more about the dinner and your target.

After some reading and much needed rest, you eventually open one of the suitcases that was left in the quinjet, having your name written on it. Inside you find a small silenced gun, as well as a fancy looking black suit, a white shirt and some shiny shoes. It certainly wasn't what you assumed would be inside but nevertheless you get dressed, the Parisian sunset coating your room in shades of dark orange and red. After a shower, you get yourself dressed, hiding the gun inside the blazer jacket before stepping out of the bedroom and finding Natasha in the other room, adjusting her dress and the sight almost takes your breath away. The redhead is wearing a long black dress, some sparkly details on it, the matching heels, her hair perfectly styled. Subconsciously your jaw drops a little as she looked absolutely breathtaking, adjusting her hair one more time before turning towards you, having noticed your presence of course. A little smirk coats her features as the outfit choices were quite something. She simply looks at you before reaching for the matching purse before asking ,,Ready?'' for which you simply nod and follow the redhead towards the car.

Considering the heels, you opted for driving again and despite it not taking too long, you couldn't help but feel a little taken back by the scene, Paris lit up in beautiful colours as the sun had set a little while ago and the sky being filled with stars by now. You even manage to catch a glimpse of the Eiffel Tower, the seine and countless people sitting alongside it and enjoying the night sky. Your eyes occasionally dart towards the woman sitting beside you and you simply act as if you tried to look out the window whenever she catches you, despite her green eyes equally darting towards you, as undeniably she also enjoyed the view. ,,Here we are'' you announce after parking and considering the outfit Tony had chosen for you and your undercover objective, you act gentlemen like, opening the door to the car for Natasha, as well as the door of the restaurant before stepping inside. She plays along of course, always staying professional, thanking and smiling at you almost in adoration, playing the role of your wife perfectly.

,,Bonsoir'' a waiter greets you, before you smile politely ,,Reservation for Smith'' you announce, wanting nothing more than to roll your eyes for the name Tony had chosen for this one. ,,Certainly, if you follow me'' he announces before walking the two of you towards the table. ,,After you darling'' you mock a little, letting Natasha follow him first and she simply smirks at you and you knew you would certainly hear about this later. ,,Would you like an appetiser?'' he asks after leading you to the table and you simply help Natasha to get settled in her chair before speaking again ,,I think Champagne sounds great, what do you think darling?'' you question and she simply nods before the waiter leaves with your order. ,,I'm going to kill you once this mission is over'' she speaks through gritted teeth and you can't help but chuckle as you place a comforting hand on her shoulder, quite enjoying this little game of this undercover mission supposedly your honeymoon.

The objective for this mission was somewhat simple, Tony and the others assumed some people owning or working for this restaurant belonging to some organisation that they had chased for a long time. And so both you and Natasha are supposed to explore the place a little, check for anything unusual, maybe even scoop around for a little bit tonight before some more objectives in the following days. ,,Cheers darling, to our first night in Paris'' you announce, holding your glass up after the waiter had brought over your drinks and taken your orders. ,,Cheers honey'' Natasha mocks you, staying in her role perfectly despite her eyes speaking a very different story. The two of you eventually settle into some easy conversation, trying to act like a normal married couple on their honeymoon, sometimes sharing fake loving glances, placing a subtle hand on Natasha's cheek or her hand lingering on your leg. As the meal progresses, neither you or Natasha had noticed anything unusual or out of the ordinary, it seemed like a normal five star restaurant, the staff friendly, other guests equally seeming normal and going on about their nights and tasks.

,,Noticed anything unusual yet?'' she whispers a little as she pretends to kiss your cheek, her mouth ghosting over your ear. You simply shake your head, your stomach greeting you with an unfamiliar feeling as you feel her lips ghost over your ear. Swallowing hard, you simply shake your head before speaking again ,,I'll go check downstairs'' you speak after a little bit and Natasha simply nods as she watches you leave towards the staircase and bathrooms.

Downstairs you find the bathrooms, inspecting those a moment before passing by some supply rooms and the kitchen, quickly checking out the place but finding nothing unusual and simply returning to your table. Natasha gives you a questioning look but you simply shake your head, causing for confusion to fill her features. ,,Can I offer you some desserts?'' the waiter returns and you glance at Natasha who reclaims her role of the loving wife perfectly, passing you the menu ,,You choose my love'' she speaks, almost in a perfect british accent. You smile politely before ordering you both some dessert and the waiter once again off. ,,Did you enjoy your food?'' you ask and she simply nods before asking whether you did too. The remainder of the evening goes by fast, the two of you finishing dessert before eventually getting the bill, deciding without words that there was nothing else to explore before eventually returning to the car.

,,Well that was..'' you begin speaking before she sighs ,,Exhausting'' she finishes your sentence which causes you to frown a little. ,,You didn't enjoy it? you for sure played the loving wife role perfectly'' you smirk a little but she simply rolls her eyes, quick to take off her heels that you assume hurt by now. ,,I don't understand what Tony's aim is here, there was nothing'' you sigh in frustration a little and she simply nods, her features stern, before the two of you return towards your hotel. Arriving there, Natasha is quick to storm towards the bathroom, soon after the shower running in the distance and you settle into bed after getting changed. ,,You sure about the floor?'' you ask as you watch her return with some sweatpants, a hoodie, holding a towel and drying off her wet hair. ,,Yes'' she huffs as she brushes past you, before you simply turn around, quickly drifting off to sleep as the day had been long and the lack of sleep from the night prior.

The stubborn redhead isn't as quick to settle however, she tried the sofa first, however it was so small that she couldn't keep her legs on it and they simply kept sliding down. Eventually, she decided for the floor, retrieving a mat from her bag and a pillow and blanket that you had left on the sofa for her. She ends up tossing and turning for hours, unable to sleep a wink as her back hurt, despite the luxurious hotel, the floor undeniably uncomfortable. It was no lie when she said she was used to sleeping on the floor, however she hadn't slept on a floor mostly since joining the avengers. Her pride gets in the way as she faces an internal battle before eventually muttering ,,Screw this'' and retrieving the pillow and blanket before walking into the bedroom, setting into the space next to you, making sure you are asleep, hoping if she gets up early enough, you would never notice. She makes sure there is enough space between you two as she lays right on the corner of the side that she had claimed.

By the time Natasha wakes next, the sun is already streaming through the windows and white curtains and her eyes widen a little as she notices your arm wrapped around her, as you lay on your side, your face buried in your pillow, a leg loosely draped around the blanket. The redhead remains quiet, knowing if she moved even an inch now, she would instantly wake you and therefore ultimately admit that she was too stubborn to sleep on the floor after all and joined you in bed a few hours ago. The sound of your alarm blaring, wakes you a few minutes later and as you open your eyes and realise what is happening, you quickly jolt away from her embrace. ,,Shit- I- I'm sorry'' you apologise. ,,It's okay'' she speaks almost softly before she makes her way out of bed and towards the bathroom.

,,Sofa or floor too uncomfortable after all?'' you smirk a little proudly as she returns before she simply rolls her eyes at your antics. ,,Not even coffee this is shit'' she curses under her breath, noticing the absence of a coffee machine. A knock quickly interrupts you two and Natasha is quick to draw her knife, in her usual spot by her ankles, before she walks towards the door. ,,Room service'' a friendly woman with a thick French accent announces, before handing Natasha a tray with some coffee and breakfast. ,,I hope you are enjoying Paris and your honeymoon'' she speaks softly before Natasha forces a smile, hiding the knife in her sleeves. ,,By the way if you.. you know wish to not be disturbed, the sign is just here for the maid'' she explains with a wink, glancing between you both. Natasha's cheeks burn red before smiling politely and closing the door and putting the tray on a nearby table.

,,Jesus Natasha it's only room service, no need to kill the poor woman'' you chuckle before taking one of the coffee cups and having a sip. ,,You can never be too careful'' she shrugs her shoulders, before reaching for a croissant and coffee before disappearing onto the small balcony and soaking in some of the sun, clearly not wanting to be anywhere near you, unless necessary for the mission.

,,I spoke to Tony, looks like a stakeout today'' you tell her a little while later as she remains on the balcony, dressed for the day by now. ,,Let's go then'' she announces, reaching for her things before you follow her towards the car. The next few hours are mostly spent in silence as the two of you watch the building that you are meant to watch, not remotely seeing anything unusual or the target that Tony had described and given you intel on. You could tell Natasha was growing impatient as this mission really hadn't given you anything yet, her fingers angrily tap against the wheel, her leg bouncing up and down ever so slightly. ,,I'm going for a walk'' you announce and she barely acknowledges your statement. You had spotted a little boulangerie nearby and so after a few minutes, you return with two coffees and some pastries. ,,Here'' you offer her and her green eyes suddenly meet yours as she takes the coffee and pastry. You could tell she was grateful as she relaxed a little, her legs having stopped bouncing by now. But you also knew Natasha lacked any way of showing you gratitude but you didn't mind, feeling like you know the redhead quite well after all.

,,Anything you want to talk about?'' you ask, feeling yourself grow a little bored as you finish the coffee and pastry a little while later. Her eyebrow raises as she glances at you, scoffing at first thinking you are joking. ,,Y/N, what do you think this is? girls talk and braiding our hair afterwards?'' she questions sarcastically before her eyes dart back towards the building. ,,I mean.. we could?'' you question, your expression almost adorable and she can't help but chuckle at your antics. Another half an hour of silence follows before she speaks again ,,Fine tell me something about yourself then Y/N'' she huffs, growing increasingly bored as the minutes pass and lack of actions. ,,Did you know that I'm an avenger?'' you joke, smiling at her almost smugly and she can't help and again raise her eyebrows and hide the smirk. ,,Oh really, no I didn't know that..'' she remarks ,,Tell me how is that going for you?'' she questions fake curiously and you think about it for a moment.

,,I'm not sure, I like it and I like the others'' you explain before her eyes meet yours ,,But?'' she holds your gaze as she questions you, noticing the hesitation in your voice. ,,I guess I imagined it differently you know? I never really belonged and I assumed being part of it makes me sort of belong? but I guess that's stupid'' you sigh before glancing out the window, some tears lingering in your eyes at the sudden admission and definitely not expecting those words to fall from your lips. Natasha is left speechless for a moment, over the last few days with you, having learnt that you equally didn't have a family, you were practically raised by a terrorism group and hence had quite the traumatic past, almost matching her own. ,,You do belong Y/N'' she reassures, the same feeling settling in the gut of her stomach, similar to some other incidents she had with you before. ,,Don't pity me Natasha, we both know you hate me'' you sigh biting your lips a little anxiously. Before the redhead can respond, she is again cut off, similar to the other time you had said those words to her as you notice a suspicious person exciting the building, wearing black clothes and a hood. ,,Watch out'' you quickly announce, pulling the redhead away from her thoughts, her expression turning from a serious one to a focused one.

Natasha doesn't say anything, simply starting the car and following the man slowly, until he eventually walks into a building, leaving both you and Natasha, once again camping out in the car and watching carefully. ,,Y/N- I-'' she begins speaking after a while but you stop her as your hand raises slightly, your senses quickly alerting you of something or someone present as you close your eyes and try to focus your attention on whatever your body was trying to tell you. ,,What is it?'' she asks seriously, having seen that same expression on your face on missions a few times and knowing what it means. ,,We are being watched'' you quickly announce before the redhead glances out the window, trying to find the source, before a few shots are being fired towards your car and both of you quickly ducking to avoid those.

In a swift motion, you exit the car, leaning your back against it before carefully glancing towards the building again. As your eyes scan the unfamiliar surroundings, they dart towards the front door of the building, the same man from before sprinting out the door, dressed in black, wearing a hood and carrying a gun in his hands as he walks away. The black widow watches as you sprint away ,,For fucks sake Y/N'' she mutters under her breath as she watches you chase him, without her. She is quick to start the car again, knowing from experience there was no point in you both chasing the suspect on foot. As you try to catch up with him, assuming this must have been the target Tony had mentioned, despite the description and clues not quite adding up, he occasionally glances behind, firing some sloppy shots in your direction but you are experienced enough to dodge them.

Approaching an alley, your heart practically beats out of your chest as he cuts into a corner, more shots fired in your direction and a bullet gently grazing your skin but not enough to enter you. ,,Shit'' you curse before collecting all of your strength and eventually catching up with him. You watch the familiar car stopping abruptly in front of him, cutting off all the ways for him to escape. Natasha glances at you, gesturing towards you whether you are okay and you simply nod before she is quick to exit the car and tackle him to the floor. As she does, he doesn't only drop his weapon but you also find several different drugs on him. Your eyebrows furrow as Natasha uncovers his secret, as Tony would have mentioned this if this was the mission objective. As the two of you have him cuffed on the floor, the redhead is quick to call Iron Man himself, informing him of what had happened. While she takes a few steps away, you glance towards your shoulder, noticing a piece of your clothing slightly ripped, assuming from the bullet gracing you. As you gently pull your shirt down your shoulder, you notice a scratch and some blood but nothing serious and so you quickly adjust yourself as Natasha finishes the phone call.

,,You won't believe this'' she chuckles sarcastically as she glances between you and the guy on the floor. She gestures you to walk towards her so he couldn't hear. ,,Not our target'' she mutters and your eyebrows furrow yet again. ,,So why was he shooting at us and why did we happen to be here?'' you ask slightly dumbfounded, having seen a lot in your line of work but never a coincidence of this kind. ,,I assume he figured we followed him and thought we were cops'' she shrugs before glancing at him again. ,,Feds are on their way'' she announces before you nod. ,,You okay?'' she asks, noticing how you are still a little out of breath. In return you simply nod and smile at her, before getting back to the car, wanting to catch your breath.

After another hour, the two of you finally make it back to your hotel room, the sun again having set by now and nothing else on your agenda for the day. The redhead agreed to let you use the shower first and as the cold water eloped your skin you felt a little at ease after the day you had. The mission so far really hadn't been bad, the encounter today nothing you aren't used to by now, given your past and work alongside the avengers. However it irritated you, still nowhere close to gathering any information, despite you and Natasha undeniable the best at this sorta thing. It infuriated you a little, even causing you to doubt your abilities that after several days you still had no clues, that the investigating and your abilities hadn't alerted you of anything so far. I mean there was no pressure, Tony wasn't pushing but you still feel a little defeated. As you get dressed, your thoughts travel to your partner for the mission and how it really hadn't been all that awful so far, despite Natasha clearly hating you but even after everything for some reason you couldn't hate her and you didn't understand why.

As soon as you finished, you collapsed into bed, despite the busy and loud streets outside still filling your hotel room with the occasional noises, the days and thoughts had tired you out, causing you to quickly fall asleep. Natasha had missed you slipping out the bathroom and pathetically knocked a few times before finding it unlocked and eventually finding you in bed. At first she gave the sofa another go, quickly regretting that choice before trying the floor. However, her thoughts kept circling, first about the mission and how it was failing so far, eventually about you, what you had told her about your past, what it was like for you being part of the avengers and she couldn't help the guilt consuming her. She couldn't help but feel like she made you feel that way, the constant bickering, the constant distance towards you and her being cautious and vary of you at first. Over the last few days she feels like she has really gotten to know you, the fact your past and pain was so similar and undeniably that you had impressive abilities, catching the guy today and connecting the pieces. If it wasn't for you, there would have been a high chance of her getting hurt today as she missed the guy, missed the shots and if it wasn't for you noticing and ducking both her and your own head, she knows it could have ended very differently.

And so after several hours of her thoughts circling, she again mumbles the same words ,,Screw it'' before walking towards the bedroom, finding you already asleep on your stomach, your upper body exposed as you are wearing a tank top, the red scratch on your shoulder visible and some faded scars. Natasha carefully crawls into the same positions she had slept in the night before, closing her eyes and soon drifting off to sleep, the thoughts finally quiet, the circling having stopped after being near you. Your presence made her feel safe tonight, even though she would never admit it, not to you or herself.

A few hours later, you shuffle slightly as the sun coating your hotel room, softly wakes you from your slumber. At first you feel how stiff and tired your body still feels from the day prior, feeling the scratch on your shoulder throbbing a little before feeling an unfamiliar weight on your body. As you carefully open your eyes you see red hair first before realising. Natasha was laying on your shoulder, her arm draped around your stomach, almost as if she was holding onto you, shielding you from something. Realising the situation your eyes quickly shoot open, eyebrows furrowing as if to figure out whether you are dreaming. Next you feel the familiar sensation in your stomach, your heart fluttering in your chest a little and you can't help the slight smirk playing on your lips, considering this was the second night of finding Natasha in your bed and undeniably loving the fact that the roles are reversed and she is now the one sleepily cuddling into you. If you could, you would take some photos as proof as she would undeniably never speak of this and act like this never happened, probably even threaten to kill you if you ever dared mention this to anyone or her. But nevertheless you enjoy it and so you close your eyes again for a moment, enjoying the warmth both from the sun drawing in from the curtains but also the redhead still sleepily holding onto you.

A knock on your door startles you a little while later and you quickly shuffle and escape Natasha's grip on you, as you walk towards the door. The redhead is quick to wake as well, of course having seen and felt glimpses of her holding onto you before she is quick on her feet, knowing it was room service but not necessarily trusting this mission. ,,Breakfast Miss'' the same woman informs you and hands you the familiar tray and you simply thank her and smile before taking the tray and closing the door. As you take it towards the little table, you find Natasha standing by the door, watching you carefully.

,,Captain America Boxers really?!'' she remarks and suddenly your face goes bright red after setting the tray down, noticing how you never changed into any pyjamas the night prior. ,,Um yeah they are comfortable'' you try to play it cool, hiding your face as you reach the coffee and take a sip. ,,Wait so you are staring at my ass'' you smirk amusedly, you now the one making the Russian's cheeks glow red. ,,No I- it's just'' she huffs, rolling her eyes at your antics. You watch as she shoves one of the croissants into her mouth before you speak again ,,If it makes you feel any better, there are no Black Widow ones, you really should talk to your marketing team'' you chuckle causing her green eyes to meet yours. ,,So you're telling me you would wear those?'' she asks with a raised eyebrow. ,,Course I would'' you smirk, enjoying this a little too much. ,,Just imagine how much nicer it would be to stare at my ass if it was you on it'' you smirk before she throws the other croissant towards you. ,,I'm so going to tell Steve about this'' she remarks with a grin.

----

Within the next few days in Paris both Natasha and you have grown more frustrated by the minute, you had returned to the restaurant, the building from the day before and following up with the compound for any leads but there was nothing. Nothing suspicious, no clues and pretty much no objective. At first Natasha had doubted whether Tony may have gotten the whole location wrong, insisting for him to check again. Eventually the two of you simply fell into the same routine, checking out the same places throughout the day but equally taking breaks. One day, the two of you decided to walk alongside the seine and sit by the river for a while, despite it mostly being in silence you enjoyed it. Another day, Natasha managed to get a motorbike for the night and took you to the same restaurant again, on the way back going a different route so the two of you would pass the sparkling Eiffel tower. And undeniably it had been magical, you couldn't help but feel closer to the redhead and you aren't sure what happened exactly, maybe the fact that she didn't throw sarcastic remarks at you every two seconds, instead actually allowing conversations with you.

There was that one moment however, the night prior to this one when you knew. Natasha was zooming past the lit Eiffel Tower, the lights illuminating the city and people and cars around you. Despite the speed, everything seemed to have stopped for a moment and while you held onto the redhead you knew for some reason. You felt it in your heart then and in that moment as everything stood still your brain knew. Suddenly it all made sense to you, why you felt so comfortable around her, why you had always tried to be so nice to her, always taking how she feels seriously despite her being so closed off. Why you didn't and really couldn't hate her because you cared about the redhead deeply. It felt bittersweet as the realisation rippled through you, knowing the redhead could and would never see you this way, her having made her intentions with you quite clear in the past and despite the little moments with her and feeling like you had gotten to see some real glimpses of the woman and the person behind the walls and facade, it killed you a little, the sudden realisation almost paralysing you as you drowned in the intensity of it all.

Your last night in Paris and this time you couldn't sleep a wink, eventually leaving bed and settling with a blanket on the little balcony, watching the city at night and you finally understood then why they had called it the city of light as despite the darkness of the night it felt alive. ,,Y/N?'' the voice of Natasha startles you, causing you to jolt as you had sat there in the cold for what feels like hours. As your tired eyes look up, you find her standing next to you tilting her head slightly as if to observe you and figure out what you are doing. ,,Are you alright?'' she asks, her voice laced with concern however, the coldness you are feeling draws that bit out. ,,Fine'' you remark, still staring into the distance. The black widow remains there for a second, thinking whether to give you space and leave you be, knowing if the roles were reversed she would want to be alone, however something within told her to stay. And so she simply sits beside you, the small balcony causing for your shoulders to touch as she stares into the distance with you. ,,What's on your mind Y/N?'' she asks after another moment of silence.

,,I'm okay'' you try again, not meaning to sound cold or to send her away but you had no idea how to voice your feelings or how much you both hated and loved this mission at the same time. ,,You don't seem okay'' she remarks, still staring into the distance with you. ,,It really doesn't matter'' you huff, trying to fight back the tears forming in your vision both from frustration and lack of sleep. ,,It does to me'' she almost whispers and at first the words don't register and when they do you can't help but chuckle almost bitterly. ,,Why would it?'' you exhale before adding ,,You hate me''. This time Natasha paused, feeling a pang of guilt in her heart as this was the third time you had repeated those words and the redhead didn't have a chance to set things straight even once. ,,I don't hate you Y/N'' she whispers and this time its barely audible as the avenger didn't enjoy these things, deep conversations, admitting feelings and laying emotions out openly. This time Natasha glances at you, wanting to see your reaction as her green eyes try to find any sign of you believing her words as the thought of you truly thinking so killed her deep down.

However she is met with silence again and so the words flow freely from her lips ,,I care about you no matter what you think''. This time your head snaps towards her, her green eyes locking with yours and you hold her gaze, almost getting a little lost in her eyes as you find nothing but honesty in them. She watches as your eyebrows furrow, trying to understand how closed off and distant she had been at the start, why she had been mean at times, the sarcastic comments when in reality she cared about you. It doesn't add up and not only can Natasha see it in your eyes, she can feel it too as her feelings both overwhelm and confuse her. ,,So.... does that mean you like me after all'' you joke, trying to lighten the mood a little and in return she nudges your shoulder, rolling her eyes in a playful matter. ,,Wouldn't go that far'' she jokes, causing you to giggle which the redhead can't deny was quite adorable.

,,Ready to go home tomorrow, wife?'' you grin at her, offering her your hand and helping her balance on the small balcony. ,,Yes darling'' she jokes putting on the british accent from days before. ,,Let's go to bed then'' you invite and this time Natasha simply follows you and settles on her side. Despite your best attempts in the last few days, Natasha always remained stubborn, you either found her on the small sofa, her legs dangling down the sides or the floor, offering her to join you but she always refused. Yet, every morning when you woke up you found her in bed after all, either you subconsciously holding onto the Russian or her holding onto you and both of your faces startled as you realised, as if it wasn't obvious by now. ,,So am I cuddling you tonight or are you cuddling me tonight?'' you break the silence after a while and if it wasn't so dark you could have seen the smirk spread across her face and the rolling of her eyes yet again. ,,Shut up or I will actually kill you'' she warns.

,,I'd like to see you try, wife'' you chuckle and before you know it, she throws a pillow that had separated the two of you, your way, causing you to squeal a little at the sudden sensation. ,,You're an idiot Y/N'' she remarks. After your giggling quietens down, you turn to face the woman and to your surprise she is already looking at you, her green eyes quickly meeting yours. For some reason you can't help but smile, never thinking for a single moment that this trip would lead to you two not killing each other and ending up in bed with the black widow herself. Natasha watches as your eyes grow heavy, it now being the middle of the night and you barely getting any sleep. She can't help the smile as she watches you try to fight sleep but failing, before soft snores fill the room. ,,My idiot'' she whispers before moving a little closer and wrapping an arm around you.

----

After one last breakfast in Paris and several hours on the quinjet, the two of you finally make it back to the avengers compound, joining the others. Despite the flight being spent with the usual joking and giggling by now, the two of you walked into the meeting room with long faces as the mission really hadn't been all that successful and you both felt like you had failed a little. ,,How was it?'' Wanda asks both concerned and a little excited as she watches you follow behind Natasha, noticing the redheads features almost a little softer around you than usual. ,,It was so great, I can't wait to tell you all about it'' you giggle, causing the witch to smile before following you. As you take a seat beside Natasha, some of the other avengers lingering nearby, you wait for Tony to walk inside. ,,So, Paris?'' he questions, taking some steps around the large table. ,,Not a success'' Natasha remarks sternly, having been upset with Iron Man and the lack of information regarding the mission. ,,I mean come on, you caught a random drug dealer'' he remarks, causing you to glance at Natasha.

,,Did it work?'' Bucky suddenly bursts out, Steve punching him in return, causing you and Natasha to glance towards him confused. ,,Did you finally kiss?'' his words follow after, causing Natasha's features to grow serious. You watch as she connects the pieces, pretty much seconds before you connect it. Hastily she pushes away her chair, her fists banging on the table as she approaches Tony. ,,Don't tell me you sent us on a fake mission'' she hisses before his guilty eyes meet hers. The black widow remains silent, his glance enough to confirm her suspicion and then she walks out, leaving the people in the room behind, stunned and guilty expressions on their faces. They had no bad intentions of course but they had noticed the tension between you two long before you had figured it out, wanting to give you the necessary push but only now realising that maybe making up a whole mission across europe may have been a bit much.

,,Natasha.. Natasha'' you try as you speed out of the room, quickly catching up with her after finding her in the hallway on the way towards the elevator. ,,Are you okay?'' you ask concerned, meeting her features. ,,This is bullshit, a fake mission really?'' she questions, her accent thick as she sighs in frustration. ,,Come on.. it's not too bad, we got to be wife and wife for a week and in Paris of all places'' you chuckle, trying to lighten the mood a little. ,,And we established that in fact you do quite like me'' you add, glancing into her green eyes. Time seems to stand still for a moment as everything around you blurs, Natasha's green eyes suddenly the only thing mattering and the only thing you focus on as her eyes lock with your own. Within seconds you are suddenly much closer than you had originally intended and the lack of distance causes you to stare at the only other thing on your mind, her lips. The redhead studies your features carefully, knowing by now she hadn't read this wrong and after a moment of hesitation she mutters ,,Screw it'' before closing the gap.

As soon as her lips crash onto yours, you again knew. The all too familiar sensation in your stomach, the fluttering of your heart, it all suddenly made sense to you. This was all you had dreamed of, ever since meeting her and despite hating Tony a little you couldn't be more grateful, considering this was due to Paris and getting to know her better. Natasha's lips felt surprisingly soft, despite not taking her for a chapstick kind of girl. The kiss wasn't rough, wasn't needy, it simply felt like everything you two had been trying to tell each other all along. Natasha put everything into the kiss, her longing for you, apologies for how she had treated you at the beginning, realisation that this was what she wanted all along and wanting you to be hers, her idiot, her detka. To hold, to kiss and to cherish for the foreseeable future. ,,My idiot'' she chuckles as you both pull away in search for oxygen, your eyes meeting again and communicating in silence.

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #marvel #avengers #mcu #avengers: infinity war #avengers : endgame #black widow #natasha romanov #natasha romonova #natasha x reader #avengers x reader #scarlett johansson x reader #Scarlett johansson #black widow x reader

[inkskinned]

pay attention to how your partner values your time.

i mean this beyond things like how much time you spend at work or how often you answer their text messages.

if you spend hours getting ready for them, do they value that effort? if you plan a meal and do all the shopping and prep and cooking for it, is it just dinner for them? do they notice the small chores you're always doing, or does it just magically "get done" when they're not looking? do they notice when you've spent time for them, or is it just something that is expected to happen?

my ex understood our relationship as some kind of credit service. he would do something large and nice for me maybe once or twice a season - and then "collect" on that credit for a while. my time was not as valuable as his - i was expected to give up my time for things like the upkeep of our relationship, chores, everything. even though i was in school and employed (and honestly doing more than he was), he assumed my time couldn't be better spent. he used to say i was just "better" at the daily stuff. he was my first longterm boyfriend - i hadn't been taught it. it didn't come naturally. it's just that if i didn't do it, he valued his time too much to do it for me.

recently i saw a video of a man smashing a cake into his new wife's face after she explicitly asked him not to. i'm glad that these days, most people don't find it funny. but still, someone comments: girl, just wipe it off and jump back into the party! but the fact of the matter is - even if it wiped off perfectly, even if the makeup only took a few minutes to reapply, even if the dress wasn't ruined by the oil in the icing - she would have to spend time away from her own wedding in order to do it. her new husband - he gets to laugh and sit around and party. she has to leave her loved ones and go be alone to handle the results of his prank. it might be the only day she gets to see some of these people; but that time spent (the makeup, the dress) is just valued less. it's seen as inconsequential.

just... pay attention. is it normal for you to give up your time, but they wouldn't reciprocate? do they consider their hobbies essential while yours are just "useless ways to fill the day"? is going out with their friends a hallowed event that must not be interrupted - but at the same time, you find that you're punished for or banned from similar events. do you do most of the upkeep? do you trust that if you needed to take a break, they'd absolutely pick up the weight? if you spend time and energy and effort on something, is that valued; or is it just a thursday to them.

#just thinkin #good luck out there #while yes this is a gendered phenomenon i wanted to talk about it #in terms of relationships #bc tbh it's a relationship dynamic that can exist in any relationship #and like. gay pll exist #u can experience this in a gay relationship

[undyingoracle]

hai omg can you do alastor reacting to the person he's courting giving him flowers instead of the other way around

Alastor reacting to you giving him flowers.

warnings: gn!reader. romantic scenario. might be ooc. sorry about that.

A/N: I ABSOLUTELY LOVE THIS IDEA. At first, I wanted to write something like him just getting flattered by it? but I think he would be more upset and disappointed that he wasn't the one who was giving you flowers. after all, "he's a gentleman and should spoil his beloved with that kind of gifts every time he got the chance to." (that's what he thinks, at least). Hope you can enjoy it anon! ;; thanks for your request. ♡

English is not my first language, so I apologize for any mistakes. feel free to correct me as long as you're polite about it.

⠀⠀⠀⠀ 𝅭ㅤ𝅭ㅤ⎯⎯ㅤㅤִㅤㅤ୨ ♡ ୧ㅤㅤִ ⎯⎯ ㅤ𝅭ㅤ𝅭

February 14th. a date everyone knew the meaning of. a date where everyone did their best to show off to their loved ones, to spoil them or even fall into the deepest of the lustful desires.

however, for the radio demon it was a pretty irrelevant date. he didn't really saw the meaning of it, and therefore, he didn't get as excited as other people did, and it wasn't exactly because he didn't got gifts or attention during it, in fact he did get lots of gift, specially from people of the cannibal town (who seemed to like him quite a lot). however, all those gift were meaningless to him, and he even hate most of them, since they're usually some kind of sweets, and he isn't really a fan of them, so they ended up in the trash or someone else's hands. he just didn't cared about it, nor the people who gave it to him.

nevertheless, this time it was a little different. he had someone in mind he wanted to give a gift to, and since a few weeks ago that thought has been running around his mind. but being quite unused to being on the giving end on this dates, he was conflicted on what to get to his special someone. flowers? he already got them flowers before, a lot of times and a lot of different types and colors. chocolates? he couldn't even stand the sweet smell of them. other kind of desserts had the same effect. and just like that, he keep discarding ideas that wasn't good enough for him. he wanted to blow you mind, he couldn't just do the simplest things!

soon enough, he asked for advice to the best person: Rosie, who, after giving some other ideas that were also discarded, ended up suggesting that he invited you to have dinner together, but instead of going out to a fancy restaurant, both of you just stayed at the hotel and HE cooked the most mind blowing meal himself. that way not only was he able to show off his cooking skills, but he also was able to make sure that everything was perfect. to the decoration, to the lighting, to the ambience music, to the flavors. he was simply in control of everything. he agreed to this, he thought it was a perfect idea!

so the next day, he went to ask Charlie for help at having a space for you and him alone. she agreed excitedly, of course, and promised him that absolutely no one was going to interrupt their perfect date. so, with her help, he got the kitchen, dining room, and a balcony all for himself.

when the day itself arrived, he immediately started decorating the dining room and balcony, with just a little magic it was a quick process. the table had a pretty dark red tablecloth, in the middle of it were some light up candles. it was just what you expect to see at a table on a romantic dinner really, kind of the cliché stuff. the balcony, however, had some lights wrapped around the railing, you could find some flower petals from the table leading the way to the entrance of the balcony. he wanted it to be the most unforgivable night of your life! that way, even if you ever (tried to because hes not letting thay happen) leave him, you would remember him whenever this date came around.

he also cooked some fancy dishes, some simpler meals that he knew you liked, and Rosie got him some sweets (against his will) that she knew you would love. everything was made for you to love.

soon enough, the time for the date came around, and you showed up. as you were standing before him, he tilted his head, confused as to why you kept you arms behind your back.

— Darling, are you perhaps hiding something from me?

he asked as you giggled. then, you pulled a bouquet of flowers from behind you back and extended it to him, holding it with both hands as you said "happy valentine's day!" excitedly. he looked at you in shock. you got him flowers. and he didn't. you prepared such a beautiful bouquet for him, and he didn't? he felt disappointed in himself for not getting you something as basic as a bouquet of flowers. how could he not get something like that for you? how could he even think of not getting such a beautiful gift to you? he could have made it the best and biggest bouquet ever and he didn't! how could he-

— Hey, Al? Are you ok?

he came back to his senses when you spoke to him. he looked at your worried expression and just chuckled.

— You just took me by surprise, my dear! I wasn't expecting to get such a beautiful and heartfelt gift from you. I am truly flattered by such a cute gesture!

— You're sure? You seem a little... down.

— Well, I am a bit disappointed in myself. After all, such a beautiful person gave me such beautiful flowers, but I didn't get them flowers! How could a gentlemen forget to bring flowers to his date? For shame.

he replied in a joking tone, making you laugh. your laugh was absolutely worth everything to him, he adored it and he loved seeing you so happy.

— Don't worry silly! you already planned all this, didn't you? that's more than enough for me.

after you were done talking he extended his hand to you, taking the bouquet in his other hand as he lead your way to the table. he wanted that night to be something that you wouldn't forget, but he didn't planned for it to be a night that he also wouldn't forget because of a little surprise. not that he was complaining though.

#🩻✦🍎˖ ،،̲ request... #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel x y/n #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel x oc #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #alastor x reader #alastor x you #alastor x oc #alastor x y/n

[lalunalando]

Ruins - CS55

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warnings: 18+! minors dni! smut, fluff, teasing, car sex, unprotected sex (wrap before you tap)

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Mallorca was a place that unless you had been there to see it with your own eyes, you wouldn’t believe such a place could be real.

Yet here you were, laughing along with your boyfriends family, glass of wine in one hand and his hand in the other, enjoying the beautiful weather at his family’s holiday home on the beautiful island.

Looking beside you, you couldn’t help the genuine smile planted peacefully on your face as Carlos joked around with his cousins, looking carefree amongst the people who made him the happiest in this world, which for the past few years has included you.

“So how are you enjoying mallorca so far?” His mother asks from across the table, bringing your attention back to the conversation amongst the women.

“I have never seen a place more beautiful, it’s like you take a breath in and you’re instantly at peace” you respond with a smile, feeling Carlos squeeze your hand to remind you he’s still there.

“We’re so glad you were able to make it this time, Carlos was so insufferable last holidays, always sulking about how much he misses you” his younger sibling Ana teases from the end of the table, earning a grape thrown at her by the embarrassed man to your right.

“I wasn't sulking!” he argues back with a pout.

“cabron, you spent more time pouting at her social medias than actually having a conversation with us” his best friend Roberto shot back from his other side, earning him a sharp elbow to the side.

“aww, obsessed much? i might have to tell my boyfriend i have a stalker” you jokingly teased, making his family burst out laughing around the table.

The Sainz family had been nothing but warm and welcoming since the first time you had met them, instantly accepting you into the family and making you comfortable.

Not having such a close relationship with your own family, this had meant the world to you that without a second thought they had welcomed you into theirs with open arms, Ana and Blanca instantly swapping secrets and clothes with you, Reyes showing you how to cook Carlos’ favorite meals for every mood, Carlos Sr teaching you everything motorsports related he could (excited when he learnt you were already a fan of it before and eager to learn the ins and outs of the industry), Caco making sure you were always safe on race weekends and taken as care of as Carlos was by the team, and even Teto who became a like an older brother figure to you (bullying included.)

You felt safe, you felt home, and you could never love anyone more than the man beside you.

The only downside you had found to this beautiful family trip, was the lack of alone time you and Carlos had been granted.

It had been a bit of a rough season so far, with his contract with Ferrari being announced to be ending at the end of the season, meaning while he was having an extremely impressive year on track, he spent every other moment off track in talks with other teams for a contract for the next season.

Luckily, he was in high demand so there was no issue with obtaining one, it was just about choosing who would be the best fit for him, and it had to be decided by the end of this summer holiday.

All you wanted was a little alone time, starting to grow needy by the day and constantly reminded by the teasing touches your boyfriend would leave you with, like right now as he ran his fingers along your thigh under the table.

It was frustrating, any time something was about to happen between the two of you, someone would pop up.

Like this morning, a heavy make out session brought on by his morning wood poking into your back when you woke up? Interrupted by his mother knocking on the bedroom door letting you know breakfast would be ready in 5 minutes.

Last night in the pool, thinking everyone else had well and truly gone to bed? Roberto cannonballing into the pool after noticing you two were still up to annoy.

You loved them all, and you couldn’t be more grateful, but you were getting needy and desperate for your boyfriend.

”Caro, are you feeling okay? you zoned out on us…” Reyes asks with concern, nodding for Ana beside you to top up your water for you.

“Oh i’m so sorry, must have just had a little too much wine before properly eating, i’m okay!” you assure her, gulping as Carlos’ hand trails further up your thigh.

She just nods with a smile before resuming conversation around the table

“Carlos behave, we are at lunch with your family.” you hiss quietly at him, leaning over to him so no one else could hear the conversation you two were having.

“but conejita, i can’t stop thinking about this morning, you looked so pretty all flushed just from a few kisses, so desperate for me” he responded, his breath tickling your neck and making you almost choke on the sip of wine you were taking.

“Please excuse me, i just need to go make a quick call home before it gets too late over there” you quickly stood up and made an excuse to step away for a second, unable to endure Carlos right now.

Stepping into the kitchen once inside, you braced yourself against the marble countertop and focused on calming yourself down again.

You could feel your skin burning from his touch and the wetness pooling in your panties from all the teasing he was doing, torturing you endlessly.

So focused on trying to regain your composure, you hadn't noticed Carlos come in behind you until he was winding his arms around your waist and pulling you against his chest, making sure you felt just how much he was also suffering with his jeans feeling especially tight against his crotch right now.

“Amor, are you okay? you look a little flushed” he smirks as he kisses down your neck.

“are you okay” you respond in a mocking tone, “of course i’m not okay Carlos, you can’t keep your hands to yourself and we haven’t had a moment alone in a week now!”

“aww, is my pretty baby getting needy?” he teases in response, hands starting to wander down to the hem of the short sundress you had opted to wear today.

You turned around quickly, placing your hands on his chest and pushing him away lightly to stop his torment.

“don’t act like it’s just me struggling, your zip looks like it might burst any minute now, might want to go take care of that mi amor” Placing a light kiss on his lips before returning to the group outside before he could react.

“So do you guys have anything planned for the rest of the evening?” Blanca asks as you settle back into the group, Carlos following right behind you.

“I was thinking about taking her down to the ruins for the sunset and a beach walk” Carlos responds quickly, grabbing your hand on top of the table as you tilt your head in confusion at him.

“Oh that sounds wonderful hijo, i’m sure she’s going to love that!” Reyes smiles at you both

“the ruins? there’s ruins here?” you ask excitedly, being a known nerd for that sort of thing.

“si, Necropolis de Son Real, it´s an old cemetery from the roman era and before” he smiles as he squeezes your hand, seeing your eyes light up in excitement.

Suddenly you hear an exaggerated sigh from beside carlos, before Teto speaks up

“So you're both abandoning me for the evening to look at nerd shit? Why do you hate me?” sending the table into a fit of laughter as he fake cried.

An hour later, you and Carlos were loading into his Ferrari to head down to the coastal ruins.

A 30 minute drive, but it was uninterrupted time together that you were looking forward to just spending in the presence of your boyfriend.

The smooth Ferrari 812 Competizione roaring to life under you, Carlos gives you a sweet smile as you set off, letting you have control of the radio as per your usual passenger princess duties.

Carlos couldn’t help but look at you lovingly while you sang along to “i like the way you kiss me” by Artemas, dancing in the little ways you could while remaining seated.

“i like the way you kiss me, i can tell you miss me

i can tell it hits, hits, hits, hits

not tryna be romantic, i’ll hit it from the back

just so you don’t get attached”

“mi amor, hitting it from the back is what got me attached, have you seen your ass?” he smirks as you swat his arm.

“i should have known you were just with me for my ass” you sigh.

“of course not conejita” he says as he squeezes your thigh before laughing, “you have a nice set of tits too”

Reaching the Santa Margalida coast, you were stunned by the beautiful coastline that awaited you. Getting to the ruins was going to be a bit of a walk but you were too excited to care.

Carlos watched in awe as you skipped up the trail, hair flowing behind you as a breeze moved your dress around your legs, he couldn’t believe he had been so lucky to find someone so beautiful and supportive, someone his family adored, someone he couldn’t wait to spend forever with.

“Carlitos look! look at the cool tomb remains” you exclaim as you finally reach the site

“thankyou so much for bringing me here, i love it so much, this is the coolest thing ever!”

”Mi cariño, i would do anything to make you as happy as you make me by just existing” he responds as he wraps you in his arms and places a kiss to your hair

You spent the next hour exploring around and taking pictures of the site, as Carlos secretly took pictures of you in your element.

Once you had explored it all, he held his hand out for you to take as you started the long trek back to the car.

“so, what has been your favorite thing about this trip so far?” he asks genuinely as you walk down the coastal beach.

“hmmm i’d love to say it was definitely the ruins, but my real favorite thing has been spending time with you and your family. Seeing how happy and carefree you are, i couldn’t love it more” you smile back.

“even though we’ve had no time alone until now?” he says as he pulls you in to wrap his arm around your shoulder.

“don’t get me wrong, i can’t wait to have you to myself in our apartment again” you laugh in response.

As you’re about 10 minutes away from the car, a summer shower starts as the sun goes down, making you and Carlos laugh as you run the rest of the way back to the car hand in hand, clothes sticking to you both the wetter they got.

Jumping back into the car, you couldn’t stop laughing about the unexpected turn of events as Carlos just admired the carefree attitude you showed towards it.

His exes before you would have cursed him out, probably blamed him for the weather shift or at the very least for not warning them (like he knew it was going to happen).

It would have led to fights that lasted days, him eventuality having to be the one to apologize even though he had done nothing wrong.

But you? you were sat in the passenger seat, laughing as you tried to unstick your dress from your skin, not phased at all that it had happened.

Without a second thought, Carlos reached over and grabbed your face, smashing his lips to yours like he needed the air in your lungs to breathe.

As you both pulled away for air, you gave him a confused look.

“not that i'm complaining, but what was that for? are you okay” you ask.

“i couldn’t be happier, just looking at you makes me realize how lucky i am to have you, i really do love you” he answers sincerely.

You smile and bring him into another kiss, enjoying this peaceful moment shared by just the two of you.

The sun having now set, no one around, just you and your lover.

The peace doesn’t last long though, as Carlos is getting hungrier for you as the kisses deepen.

Before long, he’s moving his seat back as far as it will go and pulling you over the center and onto his lap, making you straddle his thighs as one of his hands grips your waist and the other is tangled in your hair, holding you against him.

You can’t help but whimper as you grind down on his hard cock, the tight material of his jeans not making it easy for him and you could feel it all in the lace panties you wore that barely covered anything as is.

“the sounds coming out of you right now conejita are enough to make me cum at this point if you’re not careful, you’ve left me suffering too many times this week” Carlos groans into your ear before kissing down your neck.

“it hasn’t been any easier for me you know, i can’t do the same things you can when i’ve been in the shower” you tease back, grinding down harder onto him as he hisses.

“you’ve been greedy mi amor? touching yourself without me in the shower?” he growls, almost animalistic.

“don’t act like you haven’t done the same” you smirk back.

Carlos' hand that was tangled in your hair slowly trails down your figure, running lightly over your collarbones and nipples, before settling on your thigh.

He rubs his thumb on your inner thigh, slowly lifting the hem of your dress up your thighs until he can get a peak of your panties.

Seeing the barely-there black lace, he throws his head back and groans at the sight, feeling his dick twitch in his jeans.

“Were you trying to kill me today? what is this?” he asks as he brushes his thumb over your clit through the lace, making you whimper in response as he feels just how wet they are.

“Joder, eres tan guapa” he groans as he leans back a little to look, moving the lace to the side as he runs his thumb over the sensitive bud again.

“Carlos please, i-“

“i know pretty girl, i’ll give you what you need in a second, just let me admire” he drools, slipping his fingers through your folds at a teasing pace.

Without warning, he slips two fingers in to stretch you out for what's to come, making you almost scream in pleasure at the feeling.

“what a good girl, taking two so well for me, think you can ride my fingers pretty girl?” he whispers in your ear, biting and sucking at the skin of your neck, openly leaving marks his family will undoubtedly ask about later.

As you rock back and forth on his lap, his fingers curling inside you to hit the right spots as his thumb continues work on your clit, your nails are digging into his shoulders as you try to focus on keeping your pace.

With all the pent up tension from the past week, it doesn’t take long for you to feel your first orgasm approaching.

Carlos feels it too, knowing the all too familiar clench of your walls around his fingers, he’s desperate to bring you over the edge, using the hand on your hip to increase your pace as his fingers work you harder from the inside.

Your hand flies to the now fogged up window, leaving a hand mark on it as you scream his name and cum around his fingers, your hips stuttering in movement as you become overly sensitive.

He draws his fingers out once he knows you're done, looking you dead in the eye as he places them in his mouth and sucks them clean, making your pussy clench at the sight.

You decide to tease him back as he pulls them out, grabbing his hand and putting his fingers in your own mouth before sucking and twirling your tongue around them, making him growl.

He wastes no time in lifting you just enough to free himself from his jeans and boxers, before lining himself up with your entrance.

“do you think you have another one in you, mi tesoro?” he asks, slapping his tip against your clit and making you whimper as you nod, unable to speak actual words right now.

“good girl, that’s my pretty angel” he praises as he lowers you onto his cock, stretching you out even more at his size.

It didn’t matter how many times you’d done this, you’d never be used to his size.

It made sense that he was as big and thick as he was, the man himself being broad and muscular, but you could never truly expect JUST how big he was down there.

The first time you’d slept together, you’d been sure he was going to break you in half.

His hand had not been anywhere near enough over the last week, once he had had a taste of you he could never go back to anything or anyone else, the only way Carlos could describe how you felt around him is “made by god specifically for him” and he made sure it was known.

“fuck amorcita, you take me so well” he groans, his grip on your hip bruising as he settles you into a pace that drives you both absolutely wild.

“Carlos i’m not going to last” you moan, already starting to see the little white dots in your vision again.

“that’s okay princesa, either am i after the week without feeling you, but when we get back to madrid you better be prepared for an entire day of being used” he growls as he fucks up into you, making you yelp at the further sensation.

A few minutes later and you couldn’t hold on any longer, begging for him to let you finish.

“Carlos please, please, i can't hold on any longer can i please cum” you beg, tears lining your eyes as you crumble.

“let go amorcita, cum with me” he groans as he bruises your cervix from the final few thrusts he fucks up into you, feeling you squeezing his cock like a vice.

With his words, you’re screaming out his name over and over, leaving more handprints on the glass as his hand joins yours and squeezes, rain still falling around the car as it’s cloaked in complete darkness now the sun has fully set.

Carlos feels you let go and does the same, filling you completely to the point you can feel it coming out as he slowly thrusts a few more times, getting you both through your highs.

Finally lifting your head off his shoulder from where you rested while regaining your breath and balance, you give him a few light kisses before trying to slide off of his dick without making too much of a mess, unsuccessfully.

He quickly places your panties back into place over your pussy, making sure to give it a light tap for good measure as he chuckles.

All you can do is roll your eyes as you readjust your dress again, before climbing back over to your seat and getting comfortable for the long drive back.

“Well that will tide me over for about… 5 hours i think?” Carlos jokes as he starts the car up and pulls out of the parking lot.

“Try 7 days my love, we still have another week here” you remind him sweetly, a hint of teasing in your voice.

“Nope, i don’t care if my family hears anymore, i’m not going that long without you again” he states, kissing your hand before an evil smile places itself over his face.

“Besides, once Teto gets sight of the bruises i’ve left on your skin, there’s no way we’re hiding what happened today anyway.”

#f1 fic #f1 fics #f1 fluff #f1 oneshot #f1 smut #formula 1 fic #formula 1 fics #formula 1 fluff #formula 1 smut #carlos sainz smut #carlos sainz jr smut #carlos sainz #carlos sainz jr #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz fic #carlos sainz fluff #carlos sainz one shot #carlos sainz oneshot #carlos sainz imagine #f1 driver x you #f1 driver x reader #formula 1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 one shot #lalunalando

[leaentries]

let them eat cake | nico hischier

SUMMARY: when mrs.cap learns that cake can serve more than one purpose

WARNINGS: food play, slight boob worship, slight nipple play, oral (f. receiving), fingering, swearing, not proofread

WC: 2.97k

A/N: guess who’s back from the dead ! i hope you will take this nico fic as a form of apology for my lack of content recently !

the captain’s girl masterlist!

The familiar blaring of an alarm broke through the warm, golden atmosphere of the bedroom. Sunlight bounced amongst the beige walls, as the air slightly blew against them. Realizing Nico must have left the balcony door open, you managed to peel an eye open to gaze at the sleeping man beside you. 

His chest rose and fell in deep breaths, signaling he was still locked in his restful slumber. You took a moment to admire the youthful lines of his shaven face, taking note of every mark he had. The straight swoop of his nose, or the curve of his eyebrows; you swore to commit them to memory. Your eyes trailed down to his neck, where his chain dangled loosely to the side. A sweet smile found home on your lips as you watched his nose scrunch slightly in his sleep. 

However, your morning bliss was interrupted by Nico’s phone, which, once again, began to scream with that god-forsaken alarm. 

Very carefully, you lifted your body onto your left arm, maneuvering yourself to grab his phone and hit the “stop” button. As it would be, you didn’t quite make it that far before collapsing halfway onto the sleeping boy.

Nico’s body jolted at the sudden weight, hands immediately going to hold your hip and the arm that now lay limp across his chest. 

“Jesus, schatzi,” His voice rumbled with sleep, “What are you doing?” 

You sheepishly grinned at him, “‘M sorry, Neeks. I was trying to turn off your alarm so it wouldn’t make you cranky this morning.”

His eyebrows furrowed, “Cranky? I’m never cranky in the mornings. I think you’ve got me confused with someone else, baby.” 

“Ah, so you're not the guy who almost chucks his phone at the wall every morning because his alarm is so obnoxiously loud?” 

Nico gave you a deadpan look. 

You shrugged at him, “Could’ve fooled me.”

“Yeah, yeah” He quickly flipped you over, his heavy body now pressing into yours, “I’d be careful with what you say.” 

His lips placed slow, hot kisses down your jaw, only stopping once he met your earlobe. He bit lightly, drawing a sharp gasp from you. 

Nico’s voice came out in a rough whisper, “After all, I’m very cranky in the mornings.” 

Nico removed himself from you, taking away the warmth of his thick muscle. Making his way to the bathroom, he gave you a quick wink and a smug smile. You squeezed your thighs together in an attempt to control the ache that now resided in your core. 

“You suck, Hischier!” 

Well, happy birthday to you.

  -

While Nico took his time in the shower getting ready for the day, you took it upon yourself to start making a big breakfast for the two of you. 

Although it was your birthday, you still wanted to do something sweet for the both of you to enjoy. You had been looking forward to sharing an intimate meal with him first thing in the morning. Yet, if you were being honest, you never cared to make a fuss over your birthday. 

It just never occurred to you to care so much. 

As you scraped the last bits of your breakfast out of the pan, you heard Nico’s heavy steps approaching the kitchen. 

“Mmmm,” He sniffed the air with a dog-like fervor, “Something smells good.” 

You nodded towards the two plates, that now sat full, on the island top. “I made us a big breakfast this morning. I thought it would be nice to spend some time together today. Especially since you’ve been busy with all the away games the past few weeks.” 

Nico walked up behind you, hands circling your full waist with a squeeze. 

“That sounds perfect, schatzi.” 

Grabbing your hand, Nico helped you make your way into the high-top seat, carefully pushing you in before finding his way next to you. He gave you a quick peck, reaching to pull your legs to drape across his lap. 

Your stomach argued with hunger, prompting you to finally satisfy your morning needs. You closed your eyes in bliss at the warm taste of your favorite breakfast. Ever since you were a child, you had this same meal every year. Yet, it never failed to bring back the same excitement and nostalgia as it did when you were little.

“Fuck,” Nico mumbled under his breath, “Don’t make that face, baby. It’s too early for me to be hard.” 

You fluttered your eyes innocently, “I don’t know what you're talking about.” 

However, you most certainly did. And the evidence was currently pressing into your calf. 

A low groan escaped his mouth as you dragged your legs slowly from his lap. Grabbing the empty plates, you made a show of your hips in the short walk to the sink. Carefully placing them in the metal confinement, rough hands came to pull you back. 

“Oh!” A squeal echoed into the kitchen as Nico walked your body back to the counter. His large fingers gripped your wrists, pinning them to the cabinet above you. Nico’s face dangled teasingly too far for your aching lips. 

“You know exactly what I’m talking about, schatzi.” He took his bottom lip between his teeth, “Swaying that pretty ass in my face.”

Nico shook his head in disapproval, “‘S not fair to me, baby.” His deep eyes only seemed to grow bigger, “Why are you being mean to me?”

You furrowed your brows in a pout, “‘M not being mean.”

“Oh yeah, you are.” He moved one of your hands back down to cup his heavy length straining against the fabric of his sweats. “Think just because you’re the birthday girl, you get to be a brat? Is that it?”

You huffed in annoyance. You should have known Nico wouldn’t give in to you so easily, even if it was your special day. Deciding to continue your ploy, you gave him your best puppy eyes, “No, Neeks.” You bit your lip, “I just want my favorite birthday present.”

Nico didn’t miss the way your eyes scanned his body, your orbs lingering on his throbbing erection. He could feel his resolve faltering at your sultry gaze, his body naturally leaning in to press against yours.

Although, just as Nico’s lips were about to finally slot on your awaiting ones, his phone blared loudly for the umpteenth time that morning. Nico’s forehead dropped to your shoulder in defeat.

“I’m sorry, baby.” He mumbled, “Gotta go to morning skate.”

Even though you knew he had to leave, you couldn’t help but feel slightly dejected. You nodded understandably, acknowledging his predicament.

Nico picked his head up, placing a sweet kiss on your cheek, “I promise, I’ll make it up to you when I get back, birthday girl.”

-

As soon as Nico had left and the remnants from breakfast had been cleaned up, you easily found yourself falling into a peaceful nap on the couch. Yet, as quickly as your eyes shut, they opened again at the feeling of warm lips trailing your shoulder. 

“Wake up, schatzi,” Nico’s warm voice soothed your sleepy mind, “I brought you something.” 

Intrigued, you lifted your head to meet his gaze. 

‘Wha’dya bring?”

Nico’s mouth quirked up, “Come with me to the kitchen and find out.” 

Giving in to the curiosity, you rose from the couch and followed your boyfriend into the homey room. You felt your breath stop for a moment at the lopsided cake that now sat center on your island. It wasn’t the prettiest or the most shapely, but you didn’t care. With the icing slightly running down the sides and the half-cut strawberries, it was perfect. 

“You made me a cake?” 

Nico shuffled bashfully, “Yeah, I tried to, at least. I-I know it’s not the best, but-” You cut him off before he could finish. 

“It’s perfect, Neeks.” You looked at him with sparkling eyes, “Thank you.” 

“Anything for my birthday girl.” 

You turned back to admire the pink cake once more. Nico’s warm body came to lean against your back, his arms wrapping around to cage you in. You watched as his right hand moved to swipe some of the fluffy icing from the side onto his finger. 

“Open up, baby.” 

You obliged gratefully, taking in his sugar-covered digit. You swirled your tongue to gather as much of the sweetness as possible, sucking lightly. 

“Fuck..” Nico’s voice came out in a hoarse whisper. 

You could feel his hardening length pressed snuggly against your cheeks, taking the opportunity to tease him a bit. Jutting your hips backward, Nico groaned at the pressure. He pulled his finger from your mouth, a trail of saliva still attached. His hand moved to grasp onto your heavy breast through the material of your t-shirt.

Nico’s fingers danced across your peaked nipple, before quickly turning your body in place. He swiped another bit of the icing, letting your mouth eagerly accept his offer. His eyes grew with dark lust at the sight. Nico’s cock twitched with desire at the feeling of your tongue. 

He removed his finger suddenly, drawing a whine from your lips. However, you were quickly cut off by Nico grabbing your thighs to hoist you onto the countertop. The cool sensation of the marble ignites goosebumps all over your skin. His mouth immediately found your neck, trailing sloppy kisses down the supple skin. His hands toyed with the hem of your t-shirt, before managing to discard it completely. 

“Look at these, baby” His eyes were glued to your breasts, “Been thinking about my girls all day. Always sit so pretty for me.” 

His fingers were cold as they grazed over your bare nipples. Nico didn’t waste any time as he lowered his mouth to take one into his mouth. You bit your lip to suppress a squeal. His teeth bit the pebbled bud lightly, sending shocks of pleasure to your core. You leaned your head back as a whine echoed into the kitchen. 

“Mmm, fuck,” You panted with arousal, “Missed this so much.” 

Nico raised a brow, “Yeah?” He mumbled as he took in the other nipple, “Missed me sucking on these gorgeous tits?” 

His accent grew thicker as the pure need for you flooded his senses. Your body felt like it was on fire with each lick and suck Nico gave to your swollen breasts. You could have sworn you’d cum from just that alone. 

Nico pulled up, his own chest heaving with desire while he ripped off his shirt. As if a lightbulb went off in his mind, his lips grew into a wicked grin. He gripped the backs of your legs, yanking you forward on the counter. You sucked in a breath, undeniably hot and bothered by his manhandling. Nico kept his hand on your leg, while he reached to pull the platter of cake closer to the both of you. 

You watched him quizzically as he, once again, dipped his first two fingers into the icing. Nico looked back at you, smirking at your questioning face. He answered with a sly wink, before smearing the icing down the length of your chest and abdomen.

“Nico!” You exclaimed with a laugh, “What the hell?” 

“It’s okay, schatzi. I’ll clean you up.” He gave you another smirk, before bending down to trail his tongue along the stripe of frosting. “Always taste so sweet.”

 He took his time, making sure not a single bit of the sticky substance was left. The air ran cool against your skin as Nico’s tongue traveled further down your body. You found yourself panting with arousal. He pushed your shoulder slightly as he signaled you to lay back. 

You gasped, back arching against the cold countertop. He took the time while you adjusted to the temperature to rub some more icing along the insides of your thighs. Your legs parted subconsciously, letting Nico slot his body in between them. 

A whimper escaped into the air as you felt his warm muscle flex against the plush fat of your thigh. He ran his tounge teasingly closer to your throbbing core, but only to trail it back down. Your chest heaved with anticipation, the tension overbearing, and raising a sheen layer of sweat over your skin as he continued his mistrations around where you needed him most. 

Determined to have you begging, Nico pulled away completely. Watching your flushed breasts rise and fall at the pace of your rapid breathing. He had to suppress a groan at the sight of your perked nipples still covered in his spit. His eyes met yours as you looked at him desperately. 

“Nico,” You whined, “Why’d you stop?” 

He smirked at you, “I want you to beg for it, schatzi.” 

A fire lit inside of your stomach at the authority in his tone, yet you couldn’t help the bubble of stubbornness that arose with it. 

“Why should I?” You inquired, propping yourself up onto your elbows, “I mean, it is my birthday. Don’t I deserve a present?” 

Nico almost smiled at your rebuttal, but he also needed to make sure you knew who was in charge. He leaned forward, his rigid abdomen pressing into your soft one. His mouth latched onto your nipples one more, this time sucking harshly. 

You cried out through the mixture of pain and pleasure, your slick practically dripping onto the counter by now. Your hands moved to grip his shoulder roughly, your nails leaving angry red marks in response. Nico only pulled away once he heard your needy cries and felt the way your hips bucked up into him. 

“Ready to stop being a brat?” 

Normally, you’d put up more of a fight, but with Nico’s relentless teasing all day, the thrumming need that pounded through every vein in your body had you complying with his wants. 

“Yes,” You breathed, “Please, Neeks.” Your body began to squirm as he dragged his clothed cock along the wetness pooling from your cunt, “Fuck, please do something.” 

His head tilted at you, hips still moving torturously slow, “But I am doing something, baby.” 

Your head fell haphazardly against the cool marble, an exasperated sigh leaving your throat. It was agonizing what he was doing to you, and he knew it. 

All you heard was a low chuckle before you felt Nico’s body lower and the sound of his knees thumping down against the hardwoods. Your eyes fluttered closed as Nico’s lips began to leave light kisses closer and closer to your clit. 

Nico’s right arm moved across your leg to gather some more icing before prodding at your closed mouth. Right as you opened to accept his fingers, Nico plunged his tongue deep into your soaked hole. 

Your body convulsed at the sensory overload. You felt your eyes roll back as the sweet strawberry cascaded over your taste buds and the surging pleasure Nico provided pulsed through your core. You swirled your tongue around his fingers, determined not to leave a single bit of the treat left.

Nico’s fingers fell from your mouth as you moaned almost pornographically at the intense sensation of him lapping at your velvet walls. His nose nudged against your clit with every pass he made, causing the onset of your orgasm to show its head. Your hands tangled themselves into his thick hair, tugging in an attempt to ground yourself further onto his face. 

Nico moaned against your pussy, the vibrations sending shockwaves up every limb. Your body felt as if it was floating, tingling with the utmost euphoric sensations. That familiar burning only increased as Nico replaced his tongue with two fingers. He plunged them brutally, not bothering to start slow. 

“Fuck!” You cried as your back arched off the counter. 

Nico’s mouth sucked skillfully on your clit, drawing fast circles. You could feel your climax approaching impossibly fast, your cunt beginning to spasm around your boyfriend’s fingers. 

“Close already, schatzi?” He mumbled against you.

You nodded helplessly, overwhelmed by the searing pleasure in your lower stomach. You could feel the blood pounding in your ears as you were hit with one of the most intense orgasms you’d ever had. Your hips bucked against Nico as he continued his abuse through the duration of your high. 

Your mind felt like it was spinning, the weight of your climax taking the breath from your lungs. Your vision went white as your eyes clenched shut. Nico’s finger slowed to a stop, his mouth now leaving gentle kisses to the side of your knee where he rested his head. Your jaw fell slightly, lungs burning from the lack of air. 

All you could feel was Nico carefully removing his fingers, and the weight of his body moving to now stand. His warm hands caressed your hips soothingly, coaxing you back to reality. 

“Come back to me, pretty girl.” 

You eventually managed to peel open your lids, eyes clouded with dreariness. 

“There’s those pretty eyes,” Nico smiled lovingly at your fucked out state, “Let’s go take a quick shower. You’re all sticky from the icing.”

A laugh bubbled up, “Yeah?” You started at him accusingly, “And whose fault is that?” 

Nico just rolled his eyes at your attitude, helping you off the counter and into the bathroom. 

Once you were situated under the scolding water, Nico slid in behind you, arms wrapping around to pull you into his front. 

“Today is my favorite day of the year,” Nico stated.

You lifted your head from his chest, looking at him questioningly, “Why?” 

“Because it’s the day you were born.” 

You felt your cheeks go red, a bashful smile turning up on your lips. You shoved your face back into his toned chest, hiding away from his gaze. 

“Neeks,” You whined with embarrassment. 

Nico just laughed, placing a kiss on the top of your head, “Happy birthday, schatzi.” 

#nico hischier #the captain’s girl au! #nico hischier x reader #nico hischier imagine #nico hischier blurb #nico hischier smut #nh13 #new jersey devils #njd #lea writes stuff ♡

[bangtanflirt]

(Un)natural Instincts (Part 13)

*Series taglist is closed.

angst, fluff, smut

Pairings: OT7 x Fem Reader, Human CEO Reader, Human Assistant Yoongi, Wolf Hybrids Joon, Jin, Hobi, Jimin, Tae, and Kook.

Basic premise: You and your assistant end up rescuing six wolf hybrids. No part of the process is easy.

Part 1 > Part 2 > Part 3 > Part 4 > Part 5 > Part 6 > Part 7 > Part 8 > Part 9 > Part 10 > Part 11 > Part 12

General Warnings: Hybrid abuse and lab experimentation, hybrids as second-class citizens/owned property, smut (Minors DNI, 18+ content)

Specific Warnings: SA trauma recovery and boundary setting, recovering from malnourishment, jealousy, hard dom/sub sexual dynamics, dirty talk, rough sex with anal penetration and breath play, mental infidelity (morally grey since packs have a different view of relationships and exclusivity, but characters are feeling guilty about their thoughts)

____

Namjoon takes the white towel from Hoseok’s hand, motioning for the older wolf to sit on the bed and let him dry his hair. He hums as he massages his packmate’s scalp through the towel, smiling at how cute Hoseok looks when he’s relaxed like this. It’s not just the way his eyes flutter, but everything else. It’s only been a few days since he’s been eating proper meals, but that—and the fancy vitamin supplements you’ve been giving him—have been making visible progress in fighting his malnourishment. His face is no longer sunken in and colorless, and his hair has gotten some of its shine back as well.

There are still moments where everything feels dizzy and weird, as his body relearns to enjoy eating, but overall, Hoseok is in a much better place with food.

“You’re getting your glow back.”

The wolf smiles, feeling his almost dry hair, “Feeling a lot better these days.”

Namjoon pulls away from drying to face Hoseok, fingers gently stroking the wolf’s cheek.

“Tae and Jimin told me about the conversation they had with you. I told the others as well. If you say it’s okay, then I’m going to assume it is. I’m trusting you to set your own boundaries, you know that right?”

It’s moments like these where Namjoon shines the brightest in Hoseok’s eyes. Moments where he knows exactly what to say.

“I am okay, I promise. Thank you for trusting me.” This conversation could have gone a different way, and Hoseok was bracing himself for how frustrating it could’ve been.

But Namjoon knows the difference between leading his pack and infantilizing them, and he’s never for a second thought of Hoseok as incapable of making his own decisions. It’s just, most of the time, the wolves want him to make these decisions instead. It makes them feel safe and cared for when an Alpha does all the thinking.

A gentle knock on the open doorframe interrupts the moment, with both heads turning towards you.

“Just the two I wanted to talk to. Can I come in?”

Hoseok nods immediately, while Namjoon nervously goes along with it. He still doesn’t know how to be around you after realizing the extent of his crush. It feels wrong to look at someone else’s girlfriend with the way he looks at you. Especially not when he’s taken himself.

Hence the way he looks everywhere but at you when you sit in front of them.

“I have a proposition.”

Namjoon can’t help the little chuckle that comes out, endeared by how you sound like you’re leading a boardroom negotiation right now.

Your eyes narrow, looking at him with a pout.

“Sorry, you just looked cute.”

The words leave his mouth faster than he processes what he’s said.

Fuck.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Did I really just say that out loud?

The blush on his cheeks is violent red. You don’t seem phased, though, as you laugh it off.

“Hobi, you better hold onto your Alpha before I steal him.”

Namjoon knows it’s nothing more than a joke to you, but the words have him shifting uncomfortably in seat.

Hoseok obliviously smiles, “You can try Y/N, but our Alpha is too head over heels over us for that to ever happen.”

The Alpha gives a strained smile. Of course, nothing could ever tear him away from his packmates—but that doesn’t make him feel any less guilty for what he’s feeling towards you.

“Fair enough. Okay, back to my proposition.”

You hand Namjoon a manilla folder, with the name “Cha Mi-Suk” over it.

“Cha Mi-Suk?”

“She’s a psychiatrist who also provides psychotherapy, and she’s agreed to work with Hoseok—if that’s okay with the two of you. Assuming I’m supposed to ask you both. Or is it just a conversation between Hoseok and I? Or do I need to ask the whole pack. Sorry I’m not--” you can’t help going on a tangent and tripping over your own words.

This whole hierarchy thing was confusing and new, and you wanted to make sure you were doing it right. On one hand, it feels condescending towards Hoseok to have to ask Namjoon’s permission. However, not asking Namjoon feels like you’re dismissing his authority over them. They don’t teach you this stuff in business school.

“Relax Y/N. This is okay.” Namjoon reassures, “Hobi prefers I make these kinds of decisions for him.”

Hoseok nods, peeking at the papers as the other wolf flips through them.

“But how did you get someone to agree to this? Isn’t it illegal?”

Yes, it very much is illegal. Hybrids are only allowed “therapy” in state-sanctioned facilities like adoption centers, where the government can keep the extent of it under supervision. Designed to gaslight and manipulate hybrids until they bottle the trauma down enough to get adopted, rather than working to help them in any meaningful way. It’s not rocket science to see why private practices aren’t allowed: that would mean giving the hybrids a voice, and possibilities of therapists empathizing with them.

Which is why you were as careful as possible while looking into this for the past few days, all with the help of your boyfriend.

“It’s going to be risky to even ask, but I think Cha Mi-Suk is our best shot if we’re proceeding.” Yoongi had said this morning, over the phone.

“I’ll ask.”

“No, let me. You’ve never broken the law before, Y/N. It’s best to keep your hands clean.”

“I can afford to be in trouble. You can’t. And I know I’ve been a stickler for the law, but I don’t think I’ll regret breaking this one. Not when it’s so cruel.”

You remembered Mi-Suk from one of the parties you’d attended in the past, mother to the CEO of a start-up you had helped get on its feet. She would’ve been forgettable if not for the little scene she had caused during dinner—drinking one too many glasses of champagne and reprimanding another guest for being sleazy towards their fox hybrid.

It was an unusual scene at one those events, someone actually defending a hybrid…something you wished you were brave enough to do back then, without caring of what anyone would say or think about you.

You had found her admirable in that moment.

Thankfully, you and Yoongi’s hunches were right, and it took very little convincing (and a lot of money) to get her on board.

“You’re right, it is illegal. That’s why it’ll have to be a secret. It won’t be on any official records, and she’ll never meet him in person. If we go through with it, Yoongi and I will set up a secure private video chat that he can use for weekly sessions.”

Namjoon nods along, scanning all of her information and credentials with a protective instinct.

“Are you sure you’re okay with this? Breaking the law for us?”

“If it means Hobi can sleep a little better at night, I’m willing to do anything.”

The Alpha can’t help the way his heart flutters when he hears that. How can he hold himself back when you talk as if his pack is your own? You’re really not making this easy for him.

Hoseok’s eyes have stars in them, finally seeing a glimmer of hope for the future.

“It’s okay with me,” Namjoon concludes, “I think it’d be good for you, pup. What do you think?”

The wolf nods at lightning speed, “I’ll give anything a try! Thank you Alpha! Thank you Y/N!”

___

Yoongi comes home in the evening, singing to himself as he takes his shoes off. It’s hard to keep his tune, though, when there’s a constant soft thud coming from one of the rooms. He follows the sound to your library, where a determined blonde wolf is trying to fix one of the side tables.

“You’re going to split the wood if you hammer the screw that hard.”

Jin jumps up, too lost in concentration to register Yoongi’s cologne fill the room.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to frighten you.”

Yoongi joins the wolf on the floor, sitting a little too close for Jin to maintain composure. His cologne is inescapable now. A blended scent of maple and chestnut that makes the wolf feel both calm and nervous.

“Can I help?”

Jin nods, handing the hammer over while subconsciously licking his lips. There’s just something about Yoongi that he can’t help but be drawn to…an aura of confidence that’s never domineering—quiet, subtle, yet commanding. It tugs at his heartstrings in ways that’s usually only reserved for his pack.

Even now, he can’t help but want to watch this sight for hours: the way the man rolls up his sleeves and juts his lips out in concentration.

And how he knows just the right pressure to put on the nail…

…the way he shakes his hair out of his eyes.

…and, the cherry on top of the cake: his fucking fingers.

Long and narrow and so goddamn pretty wrapped around that hammer.

They’d probably look just as pretty inside of--

Jin shakes his head, trying to snap himself out of it.

A mix of lust, guilt, and five hundred other emotions he can’t quite name yet all tornado in the pit of his stomach.

Can’t stay here. Can’t be near him right now.

All the alarm bells ring, and the wolf’s body language changes from too stiff to a jittery mess in seconds.

“I—uh—I remembered there’s something I have to do.” Is the most he can muster before almost running out, leaving a confused Yoongi to finish up the table by himself.

The wolf darts straight to where the smell of oranges is the strongest—the scent of his Alpha to replace the one of Yoongi’s cologne. Leading him straight to the bathroom of your home gym. Namjoon’s stripped down to his underwear, getting ready for a post-workout shower, when he gets ambushed with a hug.

“Hi to you too.” The wolf laughs, wrapping his arms around the welcomed intruder.

But then he notices something weird: Jin never hugs Namjoon when he’s all sweaty, so something was definitely off, “Is something wrong, hyung?”

“I need to feel you. Inside of me. And I need to feel it now because I’m going insane.”

Whatever Namjoon was expecting…this was not it. His underwear suddenly feels a lot tighter.

“Okay, that’s the hottest thing I’ve heard in a while, but something’s clearly up…”

Jin doesn’t skip a beat to confess, doesn’t even avoid eye contact as the words come out of his mouth.

“I think I just got turned on by Yoongi.”

Namjoon’s eyes nearly bulge out of his eye sockets.

“You think WHAT?”

Jin crosses his arms, narrowing his eyes to stare the younger wolf down.

“Hey, no judgement. Don’t act like you don’t have any feelings for Y/N.”

If the first statement wasn’t enough to destabilize him, this one knocked the wind right out of his body.

“H-how did you know?”

“You really think you can keep anything from me? I’m your first packmate. I can read your thoughts like they’re written on your forehead.”

Namjoon coughs, face hot and red. This isn’t a conversation he’d ever planned on having. The plan was simple: crush on you for a little while, get over it on his own, never let a single packmate know.

But now, as it lays out in the open, the guilt has him scrambling.

“I can explain…I…”

Jin waves a hand dismissively, “Hush. We can have a rational talk about this later. Right now, I’m telling you, my Alpha, that I was thinking about another man’s fingers inside of me. So, are you going to do something about that or should I keep imagining—”

All guilt and remorse fade away from Namjoon’s eyes, leaving half-lidded dark orbs in their stead. He doesn’t wait for his packmate to rile him up any further before grabbing the blonde by the waist and hoisting him onto the bathroom counter, quite literally ripping off his clothes from his body.

“Now this, this is what I needed” Jin smirks, claws lightly dragging along Namjoon’s bare back.

“God, you’re such a fucking brat.”

Just the word “brat” has the older man whining. It’s been a minute since he’s been called that. Been years since he acted like one. Ever since the youngest three came into the picture, he’d fallen into more of a dominant role in the bedroom, with their omegas being much more needy than his beta. Although they were all more human than wolf—to the point where only the Alpha distinction really mattered—there was still an unspoken shift when omega hybrids joined the pack. Partly a hormonal thing, but more societal. A beta is supposed to help their Alpha keep the omegas happy. That’s just how it’s always been. When it was just him and Hoseok with Namjoon, the betas could act however they wanted with their Alpha. But the moment Jimin first came into their lives, everything shifted. Suddenly, there was an omega in the picture. Then two. Then three.

And unlike Hoseok, who seemed to prefer giving care, it took Jin a little longer to fit into his new role. Granted, it wasn’t difficult at all—how could it be, when he adored the omegas to the moon and back? When it was instinct to dote on them? It wasn’t long before he grew to love their new dynamic, putting his all into spoiling the pups.

But now, as content as he is with his role in the pack, he can’t help the excitement that surges in his veins at being called a brat again. It makes him feel like that young little wolf he was all those years ago, at the bar where he first met Namjoon. He had spent the entire night pushing just the right buttons to get the Alpha riled up, knowing he’d be in for quite the lesson in the back alley afterwards. And he couldn’t have been more right.

The Jin and Namjoon of those days were fiery and hot and burned each other when skin touched skin. But as the burning passion replaced itself with quiet comfort, it seemed as if only the omegas’ scents could get Namjoon riled up in the same way.

Or so Jin thought. Because looking at his Alpha now, it’s as if the pheromones of fifty omegas are calling to him at the moment. All from a little jealousy.

“Same limits? And safeword?” Namjoon makes sure Jin is fully present in the moment, getting him to squeeze his hand as he answers.

Jin nods, “Same limits, red, and tap twice if I can’t speak.”

“Good boy. I’m not going to hold back.”

“I don’t want you to.”

Namjoon brings his face close to the beta’s neck, grazing his skin with the tips of his canines before whispering in the older man’s ear.

“If you think about him even once while I’m fucking you, I’m going to make sure you can’t walk for months. Is that clear?”

“Y-yes Alpha.”

With Jin’s clothes in a ripped up pile on the floor, the Alpha wastes no time in spreading his beta’s hole wide open, circling the puckered rim with his index finger. He laughs at how just this act gets the older wolf’s ears red in embarrassment.

“Fuck, you look so tight. You could pass as a virgin right now. But don’t worry, Alpha will make it fit.”

Every sinful word coming out of Namjoon’s mouth has Jin getting slicker by the second. But even as slick as he is, the first finger still causes him to jolt up, squirming at the intrusion.

His legs flail on both sides of Namjoon, unable to find footing on anything as he’s on the edge of the counter. The younger wolf decides to show a little mercy and push him back against the mirror, letting the soles of his feet find some balance.

It’s the only mercy Namjoon’s going to give, however, because his finger is sliding in and out of the man with unrelenting speed. And just when Jin’s tensing up a little less, body adjusting to the feeling, the second finger thrusts in with even more force.

“Still so tight. Gonna need three fingers to open you up.”

Jin shakes his head, “Can’t—fuck!—Can’t take three. Please, I’m too—ungh—tight.”

Namjoon uses his free hand to grab the wolf’s chin, demanding eye contact.

“Unless you say the safeword, only I decide how much you can take. Understood?”

“U-understood! Sorry Alpha!”

Contrasting his harsh tone, Namjoon’s eyes are dialed in on every movement Jin is making, fully aware of what his body language looks like when he’s at his limits—which isn’t right now.

No, right now he’s just being an absolute brat. And it’s Namjoon’s duty to make sure he fucks it out of him.

The third finger is especially brutal in the stretch, causing tears to pool around his eyes. It’s the best kind of pain, the kind that has him grow more and more slick—until the wetness is running down Namjoon’s hands and it feels like even four fingers could slide in easily. But a fourth never comes.

Instead, his hole is left empty and twitching as Namjoon slides down his own boxers—cock standing deliciously tall and dribbling pre-cum.

Jin closes his eyes, trying to take deep breaths to prepare for the intrusion, but even that luxury is taken from him. Because, before anything even goes near his hole again, the Alpha’s hand wraps around his throat—allowing just enough airflow to keep him conscience.

If Namjoon thought Jin was tight before, it’s nothing compared to now, when his restricted airways only make his hole clench even harder around nothing. It’s not just lust in the air, but a primal need to be as close as possible after three months of becoming strangers to each other’s bodies. Namjoon can’t have his mate forgetting the pleasure only he can give. Can’t have him thinking about any men outside of the pack just because he hasn’t provided his touch in a while.

He lines himself to the entrance, letting a deep growl escape his lips as the head pops in. The blonde’s eyes to widen to the size of saucers at the stretch, throat still too closed off to properly moan.

“Still good?”

Unable to speak, the beta signals a thumbs up sign, giving Namjoon the go ahead to keep pushing all the way in. Only when he’s bottomed out does he let go of Jin’s neck, opting to wrap around the man’s cock instead. Sounds of skin slapping get louder as Namjoon fully loses himself, reveling in the way his length is being squeezed.

The sound mixes effortlessly with Jin’s sultry moans—thankfully, the size of the mansion spares the sounds from blaring throughout the house.

Even if he wasn’t inside of him right now, this visual alone could drive Namjoon wild: his gorgeous packmate, with flushed cheeks and tightly shut eyes, chasing for an orgasm that’s just out of reach. It’s the kind of expression that makes him wish he was a full wolf—one that could give his mate a proper knot. Because god knows what Jin would’ve looked like getting knotted. The thought alone almost makes him lose it. But he calms himself down, mindful of his current mission: making sure the man in front of him is fucked utterly dumb.

“Who do you belong to?”

The wolf doesn’t—can’t—answer immediately, brain too wired from the cock drilling into him. But he manages to let out a whiny, barely intelligible “you.”

“Are you thinking of anyone else right now?”

Jin shakes his head no, almost violently. He barely knows where he is anymore, let alone any other name besides his Alpha’s. All that he can think about are the eight inches of pure bliss hitting against his prostate, and the big hand that’s sloppily stroking his length.

“Words, brat.”

“No! Only you! Only-ungh-you!”

It only takes a few more strokes for Jin to be pushed all the way over the edge, legs shaking as he rides his high, shooting strings of white on Namjoon’s chest in the process. The sight is all it takes for Namjoon’s orgasm to hit in tandem, all of his senses reaching their heights before disappearing entirely—until the only thing he can feel is the pleasure overtaking every nerve in his body. The two stay still for a moment, both fearing overstimulation from any movement as they stabilize their breaths.

It’s Jin who moves first, gently pushing the Alpha off of him. The two watch, mesmerized, at where they separate: the Alpha’s cum slowly leaking out onto the countertop. It’s so much cum.

“You’re lucky I’m back to feeling nice, or I would make you lick all of it up.”

Jin lets out an out-of-breath chuckle, body still leaned against the mirror, “I won’t waste a single drop next time. Promise.” The tiredness catches up to him, causing his eyes to close on their own as Namjoon cleans the mess.

“Come on baby, we should shower.”

“Too tired.”

“You don’t want to go out there all sticky and sweaty, do you?”

Jin whines for a moment, because the feeling of stickiness and sweat are definitely uncomfortable, but he also can’t feel his legs enough for a shower.

“Fine. But you have to carry me.”

Namjoon laughs while lifting the wolf up, letting him wrap his legs around his torso as he makes his way over to the stall. The warm water runs between both of their bodies, washing away every trace of the lewd acts that were just committed. Every trace except the smell of sex that lingers in the air, mixing with the orange and vanilla of the two hybrids. They stay like that for a while, hugging under the water as Namjoon hums a soft melody in Jin’s ear. Eventually, Namjoon does put the wolf down to properly wash him, supporting both of their body weights as the beta still can’t seem to stand.

“Was I too rough? It’s been so long…”

“You weren’t. I loved it. I love you.” Jin punctuates with a kiss, as deep and passionate as the first one they shared.

“I love you too. I’m sorry about Y/N.”

“And I’m sorry about Yoongi. I know you’re not his biggest fan.”

“So…where do we go from here?” It’s a rare moment, where Namjoon’s the one asking instead of answering. But the look on his face makes it clear that he really doesn’t know.

“We keep each other’s secret.”

Namjoon quirks up a brow as Jin further explains, “We keep it between us, manage our feelings, and the pack never has to know. I’m guessing that’s what you were planning on doing anyway, so just add me into it.”

Damn, Jin really did have him all figured out.

“Okay. We’ll keep it between us.”

Fool-proof plan, right?

____

A/N: Don't worry friends, Hobi was NOT listening to that filth. Baby was watching Netflix with Jimin on the other side of the mansion (after excitedly telling him about therapy <3)

Permanent Taglist: @skyys-universe @morelovefortn @seagulljk @shadowyjellyfishfest @m4gg13-g @wittyreader

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#bts hybrid au #bts hybrid x reader #ot7 x reader #poly bts #bts angst #bts smut #bts fluff #hurt/comfort

[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

It's a Match! || poly!141 x Reader

[Chapter 17] || [Chapter 19]

Pairing: Soap x Reader || 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1.3K~ Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you? a/n: Soap is cute.

Chapter 18: Picnic

It’s 11 A.M. on Sunday when you wake up to your phone ringing. Normally you wouldn’t sleep in so late, but it’s a Sunday and you’ve got no plans, so you’re tucked into bed, lightly dozing off and feeling comfortable.

You roll over and hiss at the cold sheets next to you before you grab your phone from the charger and take it to your ear without looking at the Caller ID.

Clearing your throat, you greet a rough: “Hello…?” and rub your eyes. 

“Oh, someone’s sleepy, huh?” Johnny asks from the other end. “Did I wake ye, sweetheart?” He asks you, amused.

“Yeah… What time is it..?” You ask as you roll back to the warm side of your bed.

“11 A.M..” He tells you with a chuckle. “I’m bored and alone… You mind if I come over?” He asks you.

“Sure…” You reply softly. “Just give me like… 20 minutes to get ready…” You tell him,

“About that…” Johnny replies and then you hear your doorbell ringing through your flat. “I’m downstairs.” He chuckles on the other end of the line.

“Johnny!” You groan. “You can’t show up unannounced like this! The flat’s a mess and I’m not dressed! I need to shower ans all…” You trail off.

“It’s not ‘unannounced’, I called you to announce myself!” He replies and, by the tone of his voice, you know he has a smile on his lips. 

“Besides, I don’t mind if you shower… Hell, I’ll join ye.” He says with a mischievous chuckle. “Get you all lathered up in the shower, soapy skin and all, hm?” He continues.

“You know what?” You say as you snuggle into the blankets. “No.” You say directly. “You’re going to stay down there while I get ready.” You tell him.

“Wha-?” He asks in surprise with a gasp. “But… It’s pishin’ out here.” He tells you.

You turn to look out your bedroom window and sigh at the sight of the cloudy grey skies and rain hitting the panes.

“Well, tough luck! I’m not dressed so I’m not letting you in yet.” You reply. “Hope you’ve got an umbrella.”

“I’ve brought food, mo leannan, it’s going to get cold!” He announces.

“Goddamn you.” You grumble as you toss back the blankets and get up, rushing across the flat to buzz him in at the intercom.

“Thanks!” He adds as he hangs up the call. 

-

“You know, most people would say thank you for getting to have warm food picked up by their boyfriend and spend an afternoon being lazy and having a picnic in the living room.” Soap quips and nudges you with his elbow while watching you eat the soft shell taco he bought you.

You’re sitting on the floor across from each other, using the coffee table to hold your meal and drinks. You’ve noticed that you barely use your actual dining table for what it’s designed… Especially since the boys entered your life.

Johnny sits across from you wearing a pair of navy joggers that cling onto his bulky thighs way too much, and a grey Henley shirt that clings to every muscle of his arms and torso and leaves his collarbone exposed, since the buttons aren't done up.

“Excuse me?” You retort. “A) You’re not my boyfriend,” You begin to say as Soap quips “Yet.” halfway through, which causes you to shoot him a look for interrupting you.

“And B) You didn’t give me time to get ready. I need a shower…” You grumble, to which he, also, has a reply ready. “Ye can shower after. We can even have a nice bath together.” You shoot him another dirty look.

He knows that you’ve noticed that he thinks with his lower head more often than not… And the way he’s smiling at you, all impish and mischievous makes you roll your eyes.

“And C) this hardly counts as a picnic!” You finish as you finish your taco and reach to grab a new one from the box.

“I disagree. It’s food you can eat with your hands and you’re sitting on a blanket on the floor.” He replies. “That’s a picnic.”

“Is not, a picnic is meant to be had in nature.” You retort as you take a bite of your new taco.

“Oh? You’d rather be out there in the pouring rain to make your point?” He retorts with a playful smug on his lips as he points out the window.

Rolling your eyes, you shake your head. “No.” 

“Then it’s a picnic.” He retorts. “And my point still stands that you shouldn’t complain so much.” He adds.

“You’re impossible, Johnny.” You tell him.

He smirks at you and continues eating, his blue eyes watching you closely as you eat the meal he’s bought you, a soft smile on your lips despite the fact you’re a bit annoyed at him.

“Ye know…” He says as he reaches for his can of Coke and takes a sip. “Ye make Simon and Kyle really happy.” He tells you.

Your eyebrows rise as you keep chewing your food. “I do?”

“Aye.” He replies as he leans his elbow on his knee to keep looking at you. “Simon doesn’t talk much about it, but I see it in the way he looks at you. The way he touches ye. Never ever seen the L.T. be so gentle with anyone.” He explains.

“And Kyle… He’s usually upbeat and all but he’s more… well… unbothered, ye ken? Doesn’t fuss about things, always relaxed, chill.” He continues. “Haven’t seen him smile as much as he does as when he bounces up from his chair at the end of the day and rushes out to go pick ye up.” He admits.

Your eyes soften a bit and you find your whole face getting hot as you hear him so you shovel the rest of your taco in your mouth so you can’t say something embarrassing.

“And, to be honest, I get it.” He replies. “I see the way ye light up when you see them…” He admits. “Ye’re so bonnie when ye’re smiling… And yer jokes and banter just put a smile on my face too…” He trails off.

Swallowing your food, you take a greedy gulp of your own soda to try and process what you want to say and you just end up blurting out a soft “I’m just me…”

“And ye’re great.” He replies and smiles as he goes back to eating his food, as if he hadn’t just said something so… sweet and deep.

The rest of the meal is spent talking about other things, less important, less deep things. You look at him with interest and intrigue, as if trying to figure him out, as you two talk about inconsequential things and make banter.

He shows you a couple of his art pieces on his phone, causing you to coo at them, especially a page he’s been working on that’s just got little portraits of everyone he works with. Ghost, Gaz, John… But also some other people he introduces to you. An ‘Alejandro’, a ‘Rudy’, a ‘Nik’, an ‘Alex’... And a ‘Farah’ and a ‘Laswell’. 

You come to realize that he’s… interesting, fun, easy to talk to, silly... Despite how stupid and silly and boring his profile on Tinder made him out to be… Soap’s… great.

Once the meal is done, you tidy up the living room a bit. He takes the trash to the bin, while you fix the pillows and blankets and run the roomba over the kitchen and living room… And, once you’re done, you turn to look at him while you both stand by the couch.

Biting your lip, you look up at him. “So… about that bath?” You whisper.

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

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#ikea writes 💚 #it's a match! fic #cod modern warfare #cod fanfic #captain john price #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #text story #cod x reader #call of duty x reader #soap x reader

[marcsburnerphone]

Wish I never came

Captain john price x f!reader

Summary: being johns wife has been full of security and safety and you never thought he’d be the one to taint that.

Warnings: angst(why doesn’t anyone write about how scary price can be when hes angry peepaw is cra), hurt/comfort, 141 task force loves you, price is fucking scary.

Part 2 out now!

—-------------------

Every first friday of the month you bring the boys and your husband a homemade meal to base. It’s been tradition for almost two years now since the first time you did it on a whim, John begged you for a good roast so you surprised him with some and since there was so much you’d brought the rest for his task.

Today you've perfected the dish gaz asked for, they decided rotations on requests now because it became unfair when soap requested meals only he liked 4 months in a row.

You packed all 4 meals in airtight thermal containers and put them in the car before heading towards base about 2 hours away. The military police men greeted you by first name when you arrived and buzzed you in.

“I've never been happier to see someone in my life.” soap rushes you and traps you in a hug while gaz takes the two bags from your hands.

“Good afternoon, wheres simon and john?” you greet both of them with smiles something that was relieving to see in a place like this. The common area was empty during this time of day so it was clear they weren't here.

Before they could answer simon came in, eyes looking more exhausted than usual. He gives a weak attempt at an ‘hello love’ a common and yet sweet name they’d picked up for you.

“I honestly wouldn't go into his office right now hes a little um on edge i’d say.” he grabs his thermal bowl from the bag its always the black one, this way they dont fight over which bowl has more.

“Nonsense simon he’s my husband, im just going to bring him this and be on my way.” simon shook his head turning a satisfied groan at the taste of real food in his mouth to a disapproving one at your persistence.

“love maybe listen he’s under a lot of pressure right now, its really not the time.” gaz interrupts simons beginning of a sentence.

Without another word you just grab his bowl and a fork setting off torwars his office which at this point you could get to blind.

“Are we just going to let her do that.” gaz looks to the two men.

“We warned and she’s right thats her husband i mean worst he’ll do is ignore her, loves her too much to hurt her.” ghost grumbles.

—

The air is tense on your way down the hall but you approach his door regardless as the familiar scent of a lit cigar fills your senses. You give two knocks before walking in.

“Hey just brought you some lunch.” you say quietly as you walk in observing the splay of files on the floor and desk.

He grunts and doesn't even spare you a look which yeah it stings but it was expected.

“Okay then can I leave it right here?” you point at a spot on a coffee table thats somewhat clear.

“Do whatever you want with it, mm not hungry.” he says lowly while taking another drag from his cigar letting the ash fall freely.

“So should i just leave it in the kitchen, i can just-.” you didn't know why you were rambling or nervous even john had only ever made you feel safe. 

“I fuckin said do what you please with it, I’m busy.” the tone made you shiver, and yes maybe you should've just left it and talked to him later but this wasn't a behavior from him you've ever experienced.

“John I-” 

“Jesus fucking christ take the food, leave the food I dont fucking care but get the fuck out of here as soon as you can thankyou!” His voice makes you flinch as he throws a stack of papers on the floor with an unneeded force, he yelled at you for the first time ever and you couldn't even process it. Was time bending or had the air become thin, you didn't know but you took a few weary steps back towards the door and left the food by the entrance on the floor finally closing it, once you were back in the hallway air found it’s way to your lungs as you took a deep breath.

“Hey its okay come on.” gaz was there gently caressing your arm along with the two others catching up behind him in the distance.

They never thought hed talk to you like that but right when they heard that deep threatening drawl boom from the common area gaz was the first one up and out. He was always overly protective of you.

You weren't crying, no but you wanted to. You just closed your eyes for what felt like ages and whispered an ‘I’m okay’ and left without another word.

Once you reached the comfort of your own car your heart caught up with the speed of your brain and tears poured, the last time you’d cried like this had been in childhood. Without another second you sped around the lot and out of the exiting gates wishing you'd never entered them in the first place.

You got a call not so long into your way home, maybe five minutes if you estimated correctly and you almost gagged at the picture of you and john that popped up as he rang you.

The boys were the ones to call next but you just dazed out on the long road ahead, disassociated from the outside world around you. You stopped at a cafe you particularly enjoyed in a town near your home needing to clear your thoughts. 

Price had waited and even started counting seconds to see if you'd pop up on the ring camera he installed to keep an eye on you, it brought him comfort especially when you'd make cute gestures at it or talk to him through it as you brought groceries inside. But now you should've been home an hour ago at most and still no sign of you.

He had not comprehended how loud he could get and he really only snapped out of it when soap appeared in his office with a very disapproving look. Then he finally noticed the look of fear in your eyes or how the sweet smile you always wore was a frown and then his gaze made it to the container he’d grown so familiar with by the door.

“FUCK!” he could cry grown man tears, he spoke to you how he sometimes speaks to his soldiers and the strings in his heart felt like they were on the verge of combusting.

“You fucked up captain.” soap added to the fuel before leaving his office.

—----------------

Anyone feel that chest pain.

Re-blogs and feedback are appreciated 🫶

#captain price #john price #task 141 #captain price x female reader #barry sloane #john price x female reader #angst #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish

[magnoliavasconcelos]

"He's just a baby"

Pairing: Jungkook x fem!reader

Word count: 382

Warnings: explicit language, suggestive themes

Content: fluff, established relationship, one shot

Situation: your food is too good, Bam is too clingy and Jungkook wouldn't swap his little family for anything.

"What the fuck is this?"

The first words came from a tired Jungkook, dressed in baggy black clothes, hands on his waist and a smile growing on his face.

"What?"

"Have you seen yourself?"

He said, pointing at Bam and me, lying on the sofa with a blanket, Bam's head on my chest as I pet him.

"He deserves pampering, look at his face." Jungkook laughs in disbelief. "Have you seen his size?"

"I think someone's jealous, but who am I to talk, I would be too if a beautiful woman like me wasn't paying me any attention." I say with a small smile looking at Bam once again.

"Of course I am, I know my rights." He says, as he leans in to kiss me. "I made us food." I say, pointing to the kitchen worktop. I see his doe eyes growing as he looks at the food I've prepared. His favourite ramen, with green onions, soft boiled eggs and sesame seeds.

Smelling a sweet scent through his button nose, he looked over and there were small freshly made chocolat cookies with hearts on top.

"You did all this?" He asked me, his eyes wide. "Yes, I went to buy the flour at the shop of that older couple we met."

Ahhh, that day. He thought. A week ago, when we had gone to walk Bam, we found a precious shop, run by an elderly couple, where everything seemed to be in perfect condition. But nothing was more perfect than his girl in a yellow sundress and his dog always on guard around her.

"I love you." Jungkook says as he looks at me with such affection that I feel like I'm going to explode. "I love you too..." I say and then he interrupts me. "No, I love you. In an inexplicable way, in a way that makes me want to enjoy every moment with you. In bad times and in good times, when we laugh like fools, when you get upset about someone at work and I start planning to kill them, when I miss a step in a routine and you cheer me up, when I complain that Bam steals you away from me but I love that he loves you like a mother, the fact that I came home to delicious food you made. I'm just madly in love with our home life."

"Stop it..." I say and feel my cheeks heat up. Jungkook walks up to me with a mischievous smile. "I won't stop, pretty thing." He starts kissing me all over my face, while Bam starts snuggling closer to me, pushing Jungkook further away. "Bam stop stealing my girl, you've had her all day, now it's my turn."

"Don't talk to him like that, he's just a baby." I look at the Doberman. "Who's Mummy's cutest baby?" I ask in a baby voice, causing Bam to climb on top of me and lick my face.

"Give me some attention, I thought I was your baby too." The singer, with tattoos and piercings adorning his smooth skin and bulging muscles, looks at me with an irresistible pout, making me grab his face and kiss him. "You'll always be my baby, my sweet boy, my golden boy, my Kookie..."

He takes me round the waist and kisses me like a hungry man. "I'd really like to eat you right now, but I think we'd better eat the food you've prepared and deal with it later." Jeon tells me without a hint of shame, leaving me all soft. I just nod and we head for the dining table, sit on his lap and enjoy our meal before moving on to the next one.

This is my first fic, hope I can get better.

#jungkook x reader #idol jungkook #idol #idol jungkook x reader #K-pop #BTS #BTS x reader #fluff #one shot #fanfic #established rp #female reader #Bam #jungkook x reader bam #jungkook x reader Bam