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dewdropdinosaur · 24 days

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White Gold Glitters Too

ALASTOR x READER SMUT

Summary: Lucifer takes too much of a liking to Alastor's wife and he seeks to claim her and prove his dominance. Fucking her for Lucifer to hear sounds like a good option.

Warnings: NSFW/18+. MINORS DO NOT ENGAGE. You are responsible for your own media consumption.

Oral Sex, Reader has a Vagina, Heavy Sex, C*m, Implied P in V Sex, Jealous Fucking, Mention of Restraints, Tentacles

I have never written smut before...so I am sorry.

REQUESTS OPEN

Alastor, the infamous Radio Demon from Hazbin Hotel, was known for his charismatic yet enigmatic presence. He ruled over his domain with a devilish grin and a penchant for blood. But beneath his charming facade lay a heart that beat fiercely for one person: his beloved wife, Y/N.

Y/N was the epitome of grace and beauty, with a kindness that melted even the most hardened of souls. She had captured Alastor's heart as soon as they had entered through the doors of the hotel, and he would do anything to keep her by his side. Having been newly wed, Alastor’s possessive nature seemed to rear its head often when it came to his bride.

However, trouble brewed when Lucifer, the fallen angel and hellish king himself, began to take an seeming interest in Y/N. His smooth words and suave demeanor drew her attention, much to Alastor's dismay. Alastor’s confidence was shaken when Lucifer Morningstar began to show a keen interest in Y/N. Despite her loyalty to Alastor, Lucifer's suave demeanor and irresistible charisma stirred a jealousy deep within Alastor's demonic heart.

It has begun innocently enough, with Lucifer's smooth compliments and flirtatious gestures towards Y/N whenever they crossed paths. Then it turned to a hand atop hers or brushing hair out of her face while she worked on fixing up the hotel. At first, Alastor attempted to suppress his jealousy, masking his feelings with his trademark grin and witty remarks. But as Lucifer's advances towards Y/N became more pronounced, Alastor's facade began to crack.

One fateful evening, as the flames of Hell danced in the distance, Alastor found himself unable to contain his simmering jealousy any longer. He watched from a distance as Lucifer flirted shamelessly with Y/N, his patience wearing thin with each passing moment.

His once cheerful demeanor turned dark as he became increasingly passive-aggressive, making evil eyes at the short king(yes my dears, narrators can make a joke occasionally.) But still, Lucifer persisted in his advances, seemingly unfazed by Alastor's silent warnings. Y/N, momentarily stepping away at Charlie’s call for some assistance, left the two men alone in the lobby.

“Well, well, if it isn't the charming Lucifer. Quite the show you're putting on tonight”

Lucifer smirked, “Ah, Alastor, always a pleasure to see you. And might I say, your wife looks positively radiant this evening. You picked a good one.”

Alastor forced a smile, a natural habit of his that was wearing on him. “Why, thank you, Lucifer. She does tend to have that effect, doesn't she? Though I must say, your interest in her appearance is unexpected.”

“Oh, Alastor, there's no harm in appreciating beauty when it's right in front of you. And your wife is truly a sight to behold.” Lucifer leaned closer, using his elbow to nudge Alastor in the ribs playfully; unaware of the brewing violence in the red demon before him. Or maybe he did know and elected to ignore it. Lucifer did get terribly bored.

Alastor spoke firmly through clenched teeth “Indeed, she is. But I must warn you, Lucifer, my patience wears thin when it comes to matters of the heart.”

“Just engaging in some harmless conversation. Does that bother you?

“Of course, how silly of me to assume otherwise.” Both men quipped back and forth so sarcastically it could've been considered the eight deadly sin.

Returning from aiding the princess, Y/N resumed her place by Alastor’s side and back into the conversation. Unable to contain his jealousy any longer, Alastor put a hand on his wife’s shoulder and looked towards Y/N with a forced smile plastered on his face. "Darling, would you care for a stroll?" he offered, his voice dripping with false sweetness.

Y/N, oblivious to the turmoil raging within her husband, nodded with a smile and waved goodbye to Lucifer. As they walked through the dimly lit corridors of Hell, Alastor's mind seethed with anger and resentment.

Finally, unable to bear it any longer, Alastor halted abruptly and turned to face Y/N. "Tell me, my dear, what is it about Lucifer that captivates you so?" he demanded, his words laced with bitterness.

Y/N's eyes widened in surprise at the sudden change in Alastor's demeanor. "Alastor, what are you talking about? Lucifer is just being friendly," she protested, confusion etched on her face.

"Friendly? Yes, that's one way to put it. Though, his friendliness seems rather... focused, wouldn't you say?"

Y/N glanced at Alastor, sensing the tension in his voice. She attempted to defuse the situation with a reassuring smile.

Y/N: "Alastor, there's no need to worry. You know where my heart lies."

Alastor's smile tightened, his grip on Y/N's hand becoming just a tad too firm.

Alastor: "Of course, my dear. I'm well aware. But it's amusing, isn't it? How Lucifer seems to find you so... intriguing."

Y/N shot Alastor a puzzled look, sensing the underlying resentment in his words.

"Alastor, you're being awfully aggressive. Is something bothering you?"

Alastor's grin widened, but there was a dangerous glint in his eyes as he turned his gaze back to Lucifer.

Alastor: "Bothering me? Not at all, my dear. Just finding it fascinating how Lucifer can't seem to keep his eyes off you. Quite the dilemma, wouldn't you agree?

Alastor refused to be swayed by her words. With a fierce determination, he pulled Y/N flush to his chest and pushed her back against the wall, his grip possessive and demanding. Peering down into her eyes, his own glowed with a dark green hue.

"I'll show you who the better man is, my dear," he growled, his crimson eyes blazing with intensity as he slammed his lips to capture hers. Moaning into the kiss, Y/N slowly brought her hands up to find themselves tangled in Alastor’s red locks.

Trailing his hand up to her waist, Alastor gave it a tight squeeze that made his wife squeak. Chuckling at the reaction, both their lips remained interlocked for what seemed an eternity. Deciding she had enough teasing, Y/N grabbed hold of Alastor’s cane and used its shadows to transport them to their shared bedroom. Taking the hint, Alastor walked their bodies to the king sized bed and laid down on the red silken sheets. Now with back flush against the mattress, Y/N wasted no time in relocking her lips back to her husband's.

Nimble fingers traced up her waist, tugging softly on the waistband of her shorts before suddenly ripping them off of her body. Exposed to the cool air, Y/N let out a gasp of surprise that was quickly replaced with a lewd moan as Alastor traced a knuckle up her clothed core.

“Darling, tsk tsk. We haven’t even begun and you are drenching my fingers through these clothes.” Continuing to drag his finger across her pantie-clad slit, Alastor mumbled the words into the base of her neck.

“Stop–fuck–stop teasing Al.”

“Oh but dear, that’s half the fun.” Despite his words, he obliged her request by removing the offending garment from her body. Working his way down, his face ended between her thighs. His eyes widened at the glittering white gold slick that painted her hole.

“Gorgeous darling, glittering gorgeous.” Diving in, his tongue lapped up all the juices that spilled from her needy cunt. Sucking softly here and there while delving as deep as his tongue would allow(he would not admit to using magic to make it longer), Y/N let out wanton moans and lewd hisses of pleasure. Gripping the sheets beneath her as her eyes remained shut in ecstasy. To make matters worse, or better depending on who you ask, Alastor inserted his finger into her while continuing to feast. He could see her holding back some of her noises, desperate to control her lust.

"Darling, do not hide from me."

"But normally you don't want people to hear--"

"That does not apply today. Let all of Hell and that filthy king know you are mine."

Stretching her open, he added another finger; scissoring her wide. Y/n’s eyes rolled into the back of her head and her body involuntarily shifted away from the overstimulating assault. Taking his other hand, Alastor placed it on her hip and held her in place.

“Unless you would like to be restrained, I insist you remain in place.” Perking up at the thought, Y/N gulped. Being restrained by Alastor’s slick tentacles, forcing her legs open so he could do as he pleased; letting him use them to fill every hole piqued her interest. Perhaps for another time.

The thoughts and stimulation from Alastor’s mouth and his fingers nearly had her cumming, mumbling incoherently for just a bit more to push her over the edge. Smirking, Alastor brought a third finger into her hole, its walls squeezing onto him for dear life. Using his thumb to rub against her clit, the stimulation was bearing nearly too much.

“Go on Y/N. Tell me….tell me how I can only make you feel this good. That even the King of Hell couldn’t make you cum just from his fingers.”

That’s what did it, Y/N felt the coil in her stomach snap as she cried Alastor’s name. Surely, the whole hotel had heard her by now. Just as Alastor wanted. Cum now coated his fingers and the bedsheets below as her high overtook her senses and she saw stars.

Drawing his fingers slowly out of her and bringing them to his lips, Alastor sucked on the white gold juices. Both parties covered in a layer of thin sweat, panting heavily and overcome with arousal. Walking his hands forward till both of his arms caged her in on the bed and she could feel his growing bulge against her thighs, Alastor whispered darkly.

“Now dear, feel like letting Lucifer know how good round two is about to feel?”

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r--kt · 22 days

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Do you like Kakashi's dogs? Let's talk about why there are eight of them.

another example of naruto's ✨cultural code✨

contents | the eight dog warriors chronicles · legacy · eight confucian virtues. also look at the cuties love them sm

Naruto Vol. 10 CH 90

[ one dog is wonderful, I'm saying as the owner of a sweet little york terrier. two dogs are good, they won't be bored together. three dogs? yeah, cool! how are you going to walk them though? four? yes... look, maybe we have to draw the line h- wha- EIGHT? Excuse Me!? ]

surely, it's worth starting with the fact that eight is a lucky number in Japanese culture — everybody watched Hachi. of course, this is not the only cultural detail where the eight is mentioned. I want to pay special attention to a thing that I didn't know about until I googled it, and this is clearly what Kishimoto was doing homage to with Kakashi's eight ninken.

The Eight Dog Warriors Chronicles

Better known as Nansō Satomi Hakkenden. and it's not just some kind of book, it's a novel, consisting of 106 booklets written by Kyokutei Bakin in XIX century. Hakkenden is considered the largest novel in the history of Japanese Literature. this is one of the main representatives of the gesaku genre, which includes works of a frivolous, joking, silly nature. further I will emphasize a few more times how damn popular this work is and how often it is reflected in culture.

here are some illustrations for these books

now let's talk about the plot. It's weird, but it's weird at samurai-dogs-story level so stay here.

In brief, the story tells about the commander Satomi Yoshizane, whose native lands were attacked by the army of a man, whose forces surpassed those of Satomi, and the samurai in despair swore to a dog named Yatsufusa that the dog would get his beloved daughter Fuse as a wife if he chewed that man's throat. surprisingly, the dog not only understood the owner, but also fulfilled his wish! after that the commander refused to keep the promise. however, Fuse, true to her word of honor, went with Yatsufusa to the mountains and became his wife. upon learning that his daughter was pregnant, Satomi, in a rage, sent a samurai to kill Yatsufusa and bring Fuse home. she stood up for the dog anyways and died with him. at that moment, eight pearls with hieroglyphs that denoted the foundations of Confucian virtue burst out of her womb. (...cheers for mythology, I guess)

Soon, eight dog warriors who were Fuse's spiritual children were born in different parts of Awa province. after going through hardships, they got together and became vassals of the Satomi clan, then won the battle, and soon reached peace.

some more illustrations made by Utagawa Kuniyoshi. from left to right: Inukawa Sōsuke (the dog warrior), Inumura Daikaku (the dog warrior), Princess Fuse (their mother).

the novel mainly tells about each individual warrior dog and his shenanigans in a funny adventurous way. huge fame has led to excerpts from Hakkenden being staged at the Kabuki Theater and mentioned in the anime and manga, such as Inuyasha, Dragon Ball, as it turned out, Naruto and so on. there's also a lot of films and video games.

The eight virtues

these are loyalty, filial piety, benevolence, love, honesty, justice, harmony, and peace.

they relate more to Chinese culture, but basically Hakkenden was inspired by it too. since I did not read the whole novel, I would still like to mention at least the values on which it is based, and which were embedded in the symbolism of this story. It's quite interesting to apply this to Kakashi's dogs. gives them more weight and depth.

It is also interesting to note that the reason why Fuse gave birth to dogs was also that her father was cursed earlier in the story in a way that his descendants would become depraved like dogs. in Japanese culture, dogs embody the duality of character: the same mentioned filth and depravity, and devotion and bravery. so as samurai. but this is a different conversation, more related to Kakashi and his dog poetry.

Did you get here? Here's an additional discovery for you✨

Pakkun's name (パックン) is derived from the Japanese onomatopoeia “pakupaku” (パクパク) which reflects the sound of munching.

Kakashi, that's very sweet of you.

thank you for reading this to the end ♡

#kakashi hatake #kakashi #naruto #naruto shippuden #Kakashi's dogs

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lisired · 1 month

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waiting game

pairing: best friend’s dad!johnny x (f) reader

genre/warnings: smut, dilf au, age gap, unprotected sex (dont b silly wrap yo mf willy!), orgasm denial, edging, half the fic is just johnny & mc teasing each other to death, oral (f receiving), fingering around people

summary: Your best friend’s dad is a smoking hot dilf seeking vengeance after you’ve spent the past couple of years teasing him, but it seems that you can’t handle a taste of your own medicine.

word count: 9.1k

a/n: ¼ of the Temptation series. feedback is appreciated!

Time was something ironic to you. It flew by quickly when you were having fun, yet seemed to drag on when the moments were dull. If you had to give a prime example, it would be now.

This current moment, with you listening impatiently to the vexing sound of your clock ticking while counting down the minutes before you got to see Johnny again. You had a study date with your best friend - his daughter - in over half an hour, and you were beginning to wish that you hadn’t planned your outfit so far in advance. Now you had nothing to distract you from your throbbing heartbeat in the meantime.

To say the least, every moment with Johnny was nothing short of thrilling, no matter how brief. He had the power to summon a swarm of butterflies in your stomach with a mere smile - unbeknownst to him, of course. As far as you knew, Johnny knew nothing of your silly little crush on him and you wanted to keep it that way. It was fun to imagine what it would be like if he reciprocated your crush, but that’s precisely all it was—your imagination. Hypothetical situations you could only fantasize about. You had to give yourself the tough reminder that he’d never be into his daughter’s best friend. He could never.

Still, you liked Johnny. He was friendly and though he told his dad jokes, he was funny. He was confident. He knew how to cook and he was smart, and you liked that he always knew how to direct conversation. You and Johnny talked sometimes, usually whenever you stayed for dinner, or breakfast. He had never let you feel invisible, or like you were invading a space that wasn’t yours. He welcomed you.

But of course, he was also smoking hot. Smoldering, even. You recalled the first time you laid eyes on him, when you were visiting your best friend and he was in the front yard, mowing the grass. Sweats and a tanktop. Hair stuck to his forehead like a second layer. Drenched in sweat as he battled the summertime heat. Sometimes you still wondered if he caught you gawking, whether it was when you first saw him looking like that or when he told you that he was your best friend’s father and not her brother.

(You were even more surprised to hear that he was in his forties. He could have passed for late-twenties, and you almost scanned his head for a sight of a single grey hair but decided that would have been rude).

Yet as attractive as he was in every sense of the word, there came again the rough reminder that he was equally out-of-bounds. It always slammed roughly against you whenever you daydreamed about him, forcing you to remember that there was a boundary between you both. You could not have Johnny. And even if he were to want you, he couldn’t have you, either. God forbid you thought about how unrequited this was.

None of that ever stopped you from liking him, though. In your heart, there was still an ounce of hope that maybe something could blossom between you, weeding its way through the cracks of the invisible boundary.

What were those cracks? Easy: temptation.

Like any other day, Johnny looked absolutely mouthwatering. He wore a satin shirt and dark jeans, brown hair parted and his skin gleaming beneath the kitchen light. You desperately wanted to make your move right then, but your best friend crashing into your arms forced you to remember why you couldn’t.

“Gosh, I missed you,” Jessica cheered as she wrapped her arms around you firmly.

“It hasn’t even been three days since you last saw me,” you replied amusedly, nonetheless hugging her back. Jessica wasn’t your best friend for no reason. She was closer to you than anyone else, even your own parents. She knew everything there was to know about you. You knew that you could tell her anything, but this was different. You’d rather take this one to the grave.

She rolled her eyes as she loosened her embrace and let you go, “Whatever. Three days, three weeks, it all feels the same,” she said dramatically, making you both snicker. “But for real, my dad was like, just making dinner. Wanna join us?”

It had smelled delicious all the way from the front door. But that was Johnny for you, with cooking being one of his favorite habits. You would feel bad about eating their food though, so you leaned towards declining.

As if he could hear your reply before you said it, Johnny chimed in from the kitchen, “I made your favorite.”

That shut you up before you could reply. Your mouth hang open then closed, and after a moment of self-debate you opened it again. “Shit, pass me a plate,” you’d have to be running a fever or replaced by a shape-shifting alien to turn down Johnny’s chicken Alfredo.

You rested your backpack for now, ignoring their laughter as you strolled inside the kitchen.

By the time dinner ended, Jessica had to unexpectedly leave, mentioning something about a work emergency that you failed to completely catch. You didn’t mind too much, of course. It gave you the perfect excuse to stay in company of Johnny, and you even offered to help him wash the dishes as a thank you for dinner.

“Thank you for helping me with the dishes. You didn’t have to,” Johnny said, stretching his arm to put one final dish away in the cabinet. His sleeves were rolled up so you eyed his biceps like they were the meal, but forced yourself to look away before he could notice.

“Don’t mention it. It’s the least I could do after you made such a wonderful meal, sir,” you replied respectfully. In the same breath, it took everything in you not to let your eyes trail down his body. His shirt was unbuttoned, leaving all the good stuff out in the open.

“Don’t flatter me,” Johnny joked. “Do you know how to cook?”

You couldn’t stop your laughter. “Of course not. I’m a safety hazard in the kitchen.”

Johnny snorted, “Why do you say that?”

“Sir, my expertise extends to instant noodles - hardly even that. One time, I burnt them and nearly killed my microwave.”

Johnny’s eyes crinkled. He knew now to keep you at least six feet away from his microwave, maybe even forbid you from touching his stove or oven. He also thought about giving you lessons. “How in god’s name did you do that?”

“I forgot to put water in them!” You explained, tone laced with shame. “Even if I did know how to cook, my skills are no where near yours. You’re like, the cooking connoisseur. I can’t imagine you forgetting to do something as simple as putting water in noodles.”

“It was an honest mistake,” he replied sympathetically. “But I like hearing about it. Tell me more about your failed cooking escapades.”

“God, where do I even begin? Let me tell you how I got banned from contributing to Thanksgiving dinner,” you said, and went on to explain the whole ordeal.

The way Johnny was snickering at you, it was almost like your conversation had the Victorious laugh track - except his giggles were genuine and the frequency of them didn’t irritate you. He had a beautiful laugh, one that made you simper. It went without saying that Johnny found you entertaining. He knew that he could never drink anything as long as he was around you, in fear that you’d have him spitting out his drink at every funny comment you made.

Johnny also let his eyes linger on your frame. Never had he ever seen anyone make skinny jeans look as stunning as you did, and it helped that your body was highlighted. You could feel his gaze burning into you, but chalked it up to your imagination running wild again. There was no way in hell Johnny Suh was checking you out.

Little did you know, that was exactly what Johnny was as doing. He so desperately wanted to fuck you then and there, but resisted. The opportunity would surface some other day, and to be honest he wanted to see where things would go. You weren’t half as subtle as you thought you were but he was going to play dumb until you quit these little games of your own.

“I’m an excellent cleaner, though,” you added once you concluded your story. Your lips curled into a smirk for the most brief moment, yet Johnny still caught it.

He also didn’t fail to catch the flirtatious undertone. “Yeah? Is that how you secured an extra slice of peach Cobbler versus all your hungry cousins?”

“And siblings. And uncles. And don’t forget my aunt’s seventh husband. But yeah, you get it. Favoritism also goes a long way.”

Johnny was amused, to say the least. He was still stuck on the fact that you had practically just offered yourself as a housewife to him, although it wasn’t necessary. He could think of plenty other ways to use you, other ways that you could put in work for him. It was tempting, but he was more determined to make you wait. He wanted to bottle you up until you exploded, and only then would he bother to clean up your mess.

The sound of a vehicle pulling into the driveway ended your conversation abruptly. He seemed quick to wrap things up once he heard the car door lock. “That’s Jess. Thank you, again, for your help. You two are probably about to study now so have fun, and make sure to tell her I’ll be working in my study!”

So typical of Johnny to drown himself in work. A workaholic if you knew one. You were disappointed by the conversation coming to an end, then aroused by a thought in even less time. You knew that he had to be exhausted and could only think about letting him take his stress out on you, bending you over his desk and fucking you with his entire being.

Shaking the thoughts away, you replied, “I will.” Inevitably would you revisit them (or they would revisit you, rather), but for now you had to focus about studying with your best friend.

You weren’t slick at all, and Johnny wondered if you knew that.

In the following week, you had been coming over more often. That in itself wasn’t suspicious, but he noticed that your clothes became shorter by the day. Nothing completely out of line, yet he couldn’t help but catch how the inches decreased day after the next. He noticed that you became less shameless in flirting with him. At one point he thought that the only way you could be any more obvious was if you confessed the truth, but then you started lying to him. You made up silly excuses as to why you showed up when Jessica wasn’t there, and he had a different plan.

As always, excitement flowed through your veins when you walked through his door. You were always eager to see him, and even more thrilled to show off today’s outfit - one of your favorite skirts paired with a cute top. To be honest, you didn’t know why you were doing this when you had nothing but your intuition to support you, but something told you to dress nicely today.

It was no shocker that Johnny did too. His sleeves were rolled up yet again, muscles peeking through the fabric, and you could only wonder if you’d ever have the luxury of seeing him completely shirtless. Jessica had mentioned earlier inviting you and another friend to chill in the pool this Saturday, but that didn’t mean her dad would be involved. You could only hope, though you were pulled away from the thought when you heard him call your name.

Cluelessly you blinked, asking dumbly, “Did you say something?”

The presence of a smirk was on Johnny’s face for a sliver of a second. You had caught it, and felt your cheeks warm at the thought that you had been caught staring - much worse spacing out - at him.

He repeated, “I said, what’s it today?” And you flushed some more. You obviously knew that you had been over more recently, that was the entire point. But something about him acknowledging it was thrilling yet frightening.

“You say that like I come over every day.”

“It sure feels like it. You might as well keep a key and put some of your things in the spare room,” Johnny retorted. Your heart sank a little at the thought that maybe you really were overdoing it, and sensing a drop in your mood, he added, “Hey, I’m just messing with you. How may I help you today, princess?”

Princess. He had no clue, you could be such a sucker for pet names. You didn’t even know if it was the pet name itself that had your knees wobbly or how it sounded rollling off his tongue, but you didn’t care. You were losing your mind and hardly covering it up.

You cleared your throat. “I left my notebook here, and I just wanted to pick it up.”

Johnny furrowed his eyebrows. “Jessica said that she dropped it off at your place this morning.”

Well, that backfired. It was true that you had left your notebook, and intentionally, but it wasn’t apart of the plan for Jessica to bring it back to you. Now you could only play dumb and pretend that you hadn’t known about it.

“Oh, um,” you were caught, and damn Johnny’s suffocating gaze for not helping at all. You felt like wilting beneath him while he stared at you like that - cynical and inscrutable.

Instead of giving you time to form a reply, Johnny only walked forward, and you had no where to run but backwards, until your rear hit the wall and you were grounded in place. “You wanna know what I think?” He crooned, hardly containing a laugh at how bewildered you looked. “I think that you haven’t been forgetting anything this whole time. I think that you wore this pretty little skirt, all for me.”

You gasped when his hand landed against your skin, raking up your thigh and underneath your skirt. In that moment, you were thankful that you had worn it. Johnny had complete access to your body, and you liked it. You liked how his gaze rooted you in place, still as though he would have somehow punished you for making any sudden movements. It was clear that you could have moved if you wanted, but even clearer that you liked the feeling of power he had over you. You wanted him to control you, to maybe push him to any surrounding limit to see just how commanding he could be.

“I think that you just want my attention, baby girl. Is that right?” He asked, as though he wasn’t feeling the answer. With his fingers circling your panties, you knew he was only asking for any other reason than confirmation.

You whimpered, “Sir, please.”

“Please, what?” Johnny questioned, playing clueless. He knew what you wanted. He had definitely known much longer than expected, you realized. All those times where you were so obviously flirting with him, he was choosing to play dumb and ignore your antics.

“Please touch me,” you begged.

Johnny smiled softly - condescendingly - but he still wore that fake confused expression on his face, “I am touching you though, aren’t I?”

Fuck, were you already getting tired of this. He knew damn well what you meant by touching you, and this wasn’t it. You wanted more. You wouldn’t care if he manhandled you right now, you just were in desperate need of his contact so then, and only then, would you be satisfied.

You could sound no more desperate as you whined, “Sir, please, I need more.”

He only laughed - dead in your face. “I don’t think that you deserve it.”

“I’ll do anything,” you knew that you sounded pathetic, but you had been waiting far too damn long for him to be teasing you like this. You couldn’t think of one reason why you wouldn’t deserve it, but there was already a mental list brewing of things you were ready to do to convince him. If a blowjob was what it would take, you’d be on your knees in an instant.

The offer tempted Johnny and he would be lying if he said that it hadn’t. But you had been teasing him for years now, and he wanted you to know how it felt when the tables were turned. If you were going to play games with him, then he was determined to beat you, to push you to every edge until you caved in to defeat. Johnny wanted you on your knees begging, and he was determined to have that. What better way to play than to give you nothing at all?

He liked the premise of you can look, but you can’t touch. There was no better way that he could punish you than by giving you a taste of your own medicine. Restraining himself was much more difficult than he had let on, but he knew you had half his patience at most. With the tricks he had up his sleeve, he’d have you caught inside his net in no time.

He tilted his head. “You want this?”

“Need it,” you replied without missing a beat.

Just as quickly, Johnny pulled his hand away from underneath your skirt, and therefore followed the little relief he had permitted you. An instant whimper fell from your lips, but it was clear as day that he didn’t care. His laugh mocked you, teased you, and you couldn’t fathom why he was playing with you like this. You wanted to ask him why he was toying with you, but he would beat you to any words.

“That’s too bad,” he replied, nonchalantly. “I want you to wait for it.”

You whined, “Haven’t I waited long enough?”

You didn’t realize how close he was to you until then. Nevermind how his eyes pierced holes through your skin and made you swallow hard, instantly making you regret saying anything. How you could feel the warmth of his body radiating onto you without him touching you - even if he practically was. How he towered over you and made you feel so much smaller in comparison to him, how he made you feel frozen in place with nothing but a mere glance. It was power. It was prominent in his eyes, whispering, You’ll do anything for me. You couldn’t tell if it was a simple statement or a demand, but it was true.

“Don’t you think that I’ve waited long enough?” His eyes were cold. You wanted to move backwards, but there was no escape. You were trapped beneath his gaze with no where to run. “Don’t be so selfish. You’ve been playing your little games with me for the past couple of years. Don’t you think it’s my turn now?”

It was then that you realized what this was. It was revenge - sweet to him, yet so bitter to you. Karma really was a bitch.

You heard a car pulling into the driveway, and Johnny finally stepped away from you. “See you later,” a day, two days, a week - whatever amount of time defined the wait of later, it was too much. Call it greed. Call it selfish. But you just couldn’t wait. You wanted him. You needed him. Your body was yearning for touch, but you could feel nothing but cool air.

You needed Johnny now, and yet he refused to give himself to you.

It was finally Saturday, and you were nothing less than thrilled. The days in between now and the last time you’d seen Johnny felt closer to weeks and now that you had an excuse, you were going to be downright insufferable. As if you weren’t going to be insufferable either way. With the way things turned out during your encounter with him, you realized than instead of wallowing in defeat, you needed to play back harder. That meant leveling-up and making it known that you weren’t going down without a fight.

As you hoped, Johnny was also in the backyard. Jess had invited you and her crush Mark over for a pool day, and Johnny insisted on grilling for the three of you. You were ninety-nine percent convinced that you were half the reason, with him simply wanting to get at you - and that he did. He looked more mesmerizing than he usually did, sweat making his skin gleam, and it took you back to the first time that you’d seen him.

You shoved the memory into a dark corner in the back of your brain. Determination filled you to the brim, and you had just the trick up your sleeve to make Johnny lose his mind.

“Ready for the pool?” Jessica asked as you both stepped out onto the patio.

It was difficult to hide your smirk as you replied, “Born ready.” You had been planning this moment out for days, and you refused to let reality not match your expectations.

She rushed to get inside the pool with Mark, but you took your sweet time, waiting for the moment when you could feel Johnny’s eyes on you to drop the towel. It revealed a bright red bikini, and the look on his face when you glanced up to capture his reaction was worth a million bucks. He was looking at you like he wanted you, and that alone was enough to satisfy you.

Don’t burn the food, you mouthed cockily, just before sending him a week and diving into the pool with your two friends.

The rest of the afternoon consisted of mutual stares that lingered far too long, and by the time the day began to fade dull you had been in and out of the pool and Johnny had gone inside. With Mark and Jessica being equally sprung for each other it was easy for your third-wheeling adventure to begin, and you were yearning for more excitement, running out of battery from earlier’s thrilll.

Some time later, you all agreed to end the night here and Mark and Jessica decided to go on a walk before he went home. It being implied that you were going home, you all bid your good farewells to each other and headed out of the pool.

But when they left, there was Johnny standing on the patio, eyeing you as you stood by the edge of the pool. “Heading out?”

“I was,” you replied, but if he intended on staying out here then maybe you’d charge your mind.

“So not anymore,” Johnny smirked as he put the pieces together. “Let me join you.”

You shrugged, as a sign of not caring what he chose to do, in spite of the fact that your heart was racing. You sank back into the water, preferred it over the feeling of freezing air prickling your skin. Johnny’s eyes never left yours as he made move for the pool, but yours left his the moment he tugged his shirt above his head.

Of fucking course, he was ripped.

Feigning nonchalance was becoming difficult - your mouth watered and you could hardly stop your eyes from popping out of their sockets. To make matters worse, he looked even better in the water with his skin golden, water gleaming in the moonlight. The cocky look on his face proved he knew it all too well, and you were struggling now more than ever to restrain yourself.

“Bet you thought you were slick for what you pulled this afternoon.”

You smirked at the memory. Of course, you didn’t. The whole point was to provoke him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You know exactly what the fuck I’m talking about,” Johnny groaned. It sounded hotter than it should’ve, and now you were ready to clip the conversation and cut to the action. “You walking around trying to provoke me.”

You retaliated, “I wouldn’t have to if you would just fuck me.”

It was clearly the wrong answer, you concluded from the way his eyes seemed to darken. He’d put you in your place right then and there if that wasn’t exactly what you wanted. But it was, and Johnny knew that in spite of your front you were crumbling. It wouldn’t be very long before he had you bowing down at his feet.

He seemed calm, though the look in his eye was anything but. “I told you, you don’t deserve it,” Johnny replied patiently. You were a pain in the ass, but he still enjoyed making you wait. It was so obviously driving you crazy, and the day what little patience you had remaining dissipated, he was going to have so much fun with you.

“How can I earn it?” You asked meekly. It was slowly coming to you that Johnny had a resolve of steel, and it would take more than flaunty outfits to get under his skin. You didn’t know what to do and it was making you want to yank your hair.

“Behave,” he said, like you were a toddler. “And maybe I’ll consider it sooner.”

He was climbing out of the pool before you could even think of a response, and even when you called out his name he never turned around. You wondered what he was getting out of this. You knew that all your teasing played a major role, but it seemed to have the opposite effect of what was intended. Instead of wrapping him around your finger, Johnny walked further away from your spell. A part of you kind of liked it. Another part of you wasn’t sure how to adapt. Most boys came to you in a flock at the sight of skin, a little flirting here and there and they were your pawns. But Johnny was so much more complicated, and for once the instructions were unclear to you. You winded up frustrating yourself further instead in your attempts to frustrate him.

He was a puzzle with a million pieces and you couldn’t figure out how to put him together. A stranger you weren’t to challenges, but he was the toughest competition you’d face and the worst part was that he seemed to have you all figured out.

You always used to think that people were exaggerating when they expressed their desire for someone else. No feeling could ever be so strong as to tear someone apart that way. Yet now that you were in a position where something so close to you felt so far away, you finally understood. You finally knew what it meant to yearn for someone, and it was killing you slowly.

You craved Johnny. It didn’t matter if you were in the same room because he’d pretend as though everything was normal between you and you couldn’t fathom how he could ignore the tension so easily. Especially when it was all you could feel whenever you were in the same space together.

Next Friday was when things began to stir up. Jessica had invited you and Mark over for dinner and considering their obvious crush on each other, they sat beside each other. That left one seat remaining - the one across Mark, directly beside Johnny.

That’s how you landed yourself in this predicament. Johnny’s long fingers plunging in and out of you from underneath the table. It started with his hand simply resting on your thigh but then he started rubbing circular patterns, until he inched between them and underneath your skirt. You were fighting back noises and expressions, yet in contrast he joined in enthusiastically on the conversation like there was nothing happening beneath the table.

“Johnny, they’re right there,” you whimpered when no one was watching. You were thankful that Mark and Jessica were so invested in one another, it decreased your chances of getting caught sneaking around with Johnny since they hardly paid full attention.

“Guess that means you’ll have to be quiet then,” he whispered without a care in the world. “Can you do that for me, baby?”

You could only give a casual, slight nod. If you spoke, you were at risk of letting out moans and that was the last thing you wanted.

Johnny purred, “Good girl.”

Fuck, that was hot. If it weren’t for your two friends sitting at the table with you, you would have moaned right then. All the titles and names Johnny called you made your skin feel hot and made your desire for him multiply. It felt like a test on your patience and you were failing.

In his attempt to act as though nothing was wrong, Johnny asked to no one in particular, “Any plans for the weekend?”

Jessica didn’t miss a beat. She announced excitedly, “Mark and I are going bowling. He sucks and wants me to teach him.”

“I do not suck!” Mark instantly protested. “I got a strike once!”

“Once, as in one time,” Jessica giggled.

Any other time, you would have leaped at any opportunity to tease Mark, but you couldn’t even focus on the rest of the conversation. Johnny’s fingers felt too good inside you, reaching impossible places with precise angles. You couldn’t lie, he did a magnificent job at pretending he was completely engaged in whatever conversation, but you could tell he had shifted most of his attention to you. Even without looking at you directly, it was almost like he could see your reaction and Johnny was determined to steer you right off of the edge.

Whenever a moan approached you, you bit your lip, hard. Or shoved a forkful of spaghetti into your mouth. Whatever you could do to prevent yourself from moaning. The brief glimpse of a smirk you saw on Johnny’s lips confirmed that he was enjoying this, but you couldn’t be mad. You were enjoying it too - especially considering this was probably the most you would get from him for a while, you could only be satisfied.

You were only snapped out of this trance when you heard your name called, snapping your head up in the direction of Johnny.

You furrowed your eyebrows. “Huh?” Oh how familiar this situation had felt.

“I said, do you have any plans for the weekend?” Johnny reiterated, looking at you so normally that even you started to believe he wasn’t fingering you right now.

Oh, did you. If Johnny insisted on not fucking you any time soon, then you were going to have a good ole time with your pal, your vibrator. You couldn’t exactly say that though, and even if you could you wouldn’t dare speak more than three words at once. Not when you were so close. So you opted for simply shaking your head.

“Perfect. With Jessica gone I’ll need someone to help me repaint the walls,” Johnny joked, yet you could see right through what he was saying.

Jessica grumbled, “Dad, no. I told you I’ll help you when I get back.”

You forced your voice up as front as you could, “I don’t mind. It’s not like I’m doing anything anyways and,” you fought the sound back into your throat before you continued, “-and it’s the least I could do after leeching off you guys.”

“You’re not a leech,” your best friend reassured. “But if you really want to help him then suit yourself.”

If only she knew you couldn’t care less about the walls, not when you were focused on a completely different type. You wanted Johnny to paint your walls, simple as that.

Conversation didn’t die, but neither did the feeling between your thighs. They were trembling as you approached your orgasm, and you could feel it creeping up on you. You were about to duck your head to hide the pleasured expressions on your face until you couldn’t feel it anymore.

You nearly whimpered, staring at Johnny with only shock. It wasn’t really surprising considering everything that had happened since that day, but you were disappointed. Johnny kept dropping you off before you got to your destination, and you were sick of his teasing and being unable to do anything about it.

“Sorry, princess,” Johnny murmured, but he didn’t look the part even slightly, with a grin playing on his lips. “I’ll make it all up to you tomorrow.”

You guessed you could wait one more day.

730 days.

365 days.

2 weeks.

The countdown was done. The stalling and wait was over. The amount of days you had been waiting for this one specifically you had no clue, but none of that would matter to you anymore once you finally tested on your tongue the sweet taste of victory. You were ready.

You could feel nothing but nerves and exhilaration, but you liked it. You liked how you weren’t sure if you were breathing when you rang the doorbell, but you knew that you weren’t the moment Johnny opened the door. If you had a quarter for every time Johnny had left you breathless, you’d be rich. You couldn’t fathom how a man could look so attractive, and it wasn’t like he always put extra effort into it like you sometimes did. It was something raw.

Johnny smiled when he saw you. “You made it.”

“Of course,” you replied. You sounded relaxed, although you were anything but calm. The mere thought of the events bound to happen in the following moments had you overjoyed.

Johnny let you inside and shut the door. You didn’t get far down the hall before he pinned you back against the wall, the way he did the last time you had been in this scenario. But you knew the outcome would be different this time.

His stare was still hard and deep, but his grin never left. “Ready to paint some walls?”

Damn the walls. You weren’t even remotely concerned about anything that wasn’t on Johnny or in between your legs.

You held his gaze and smiled back as you joked, “Isn’t that your job?”

“I see you brought your jokes with you,” Johnny observed. Then his hand scooted underneath your skirt and squished your thigh. “And another pretty skirt.”

Melting into the warmth of his touch was your only option. You were so starved that you weren’t sure if the smallest touch was enough to get your gears in motion, or if your greed for more was insatiable and it would never be enough. Though it was certain that you wanted him, and concluding from the way Johnny was eyeing you like you were his prey, the feeling was mutual.

His hand crawled closer in between your thighs and the whole time you felt as though you were holding your breath. Johnny had a way of effortlessly making you defocus on anything that wasn’t your desire for him. You weren’t concerned about what was right or what was wrong. You weren’t concerned about the consequences. All you cared about was feeling his skin on yours and meeting him inside of the sheets.

“Just for you,” you murmured, somewhere on the verge of breathless. Johnny knew you weren’t lying or saying things just to make the moment. With your history, it was easy to believe you had picked it out especially for his taste.

The skirt was a personal favorite of Johnny’s. He had never stated it outright, but the way his eyes were constantly on you was more than enough confirmation. Of course you would use your speculations to your advantage - the moment had been dragged out enough and by now it was established that you were beyond impatient.

“Yeah?” He cocked his head. “Wanna show me what’s underneath?”

More than anything. You wanted to lift up your skirt right then and there. Instead, you opted for nodding your head, unable to come up with any words let alone a sentence.

Johnny took no time to toss you up in his arms. He carried you into his bedroom and launched you onto his sheets, eyeing you with a predatory gleam in his eyes. “I’m gonna have so much fun with you, princess,” he cooed.

For once, you had no smart reply - you just let him move on his own accord. You could feel the tension in the room soaring as he crawled above your body, silent and sly as he slithered between your thighs. Johnny could feel his mouth water as he pushed your skirt up, finally getting a full view of what was underneath. Your panties - pretty, lace, and blue (and drenched.)

He pushed them to the side. “Did you wear these for me, too?”

He honestly didn’t even have to ask. The two of you had been down this road before and it was simply a given that you dressed to impress him particularly. Keeping in mind his favorite color plus how much he fancied your wardrobe on you came naturally when you were this desperate.

You nodded again, then asked, “Do you like them?”

“Love them, baby. You look so pretty in blue,” Johnny murmured. His distracted fingers teased your folds and made your breath hitch. You were already wet, but his touch had you melting into a puddle on the mattress. “You ready?”

There was no hesitance in your voice as you whined, “God, yes.” The moment had already been dragged on too long and though you understood that Johnny would probably want to take his time with you, you needed things to pick up the pace, even if just a little.

“Good, because I wanna taste you.”

Johnny pushed your legs out a little more to give himself the room to roam between them. Then he started with pecks to your inner thigh, gentle and sweet and arousing. As if you weren’t aroused enough already. He admired the way your folds glistened with wetness - he knew that you most likely assumed he was taking his time out of being hell bent on teasing the life out of you, but that was only half of the truth. You were just so pretty that he wanted to savor the moment forever.

His tongue teased back and forth over your slit, almost tentatively as though he was only taste-testing you. When you needily bucked up your hips with a whimper, Johnny decided to quit his games and went in for the kill. He ate you out like there was no tomorrow, slow enough to pay attention to detail yet fast enough so that you weren’t left hanging. You bit your lip when you felt him on your flesh. It didn’t subdue your sounds completely, but enough to where Johnny could tell that they were being muffled.

He drew back, dissatisfied by your lack of volume. “Don’t bite your lip. No one’s hear with us so I wanna hear you.”

You were a little dazed when you nodded, present physically yet mentally beginning to tune out. His lips distracted you, coated with a glossy layer of your slick. Minutes ago it was an image that had only seemed to exist when you closed your eyes, imagining this moment as you had longed for its arrival. Now it had become a reality and you were beyond blissful. You wanted to freeze time and prolong the pleasure for as long as possible.

The only thing capable of sucking you back out of your mind was the feeling of Johnny’s lips reattaching themselves to your skin. You couldn’t suppress the moan that fell from your mouth then even if you tried, caught off-guard as you were absorbed in your head. You could feel the smug grin dashing upon his lips but it was hard to care when he was practically sucking the life out of you. This was all you had ever wanted and needless to say Johnny didn’t disappoint not one bit. He was everything you imagined he’d be times two.

“F-feels so good,” you stammered. There was nothing to fake even if you wanted to, it genuinely felt good and he was serious competition for anyone that had ever gone down on you before. Your brain felt clouded and your skin felt hot and you liked it. Loved it.

Johnny would have been insufferable with the dirty talk if it wasn’t for the fact that his mouth was currently preoccupied between your thighs. You could already hear the words he’d probably say if he didn’t have a mouthful of pussy, “Yeah? You like that, princess?” Oh, and the never-ending pet names. You were usually fond of them, but he made them seem next level. Maybe it was his voice or some other factor, but you knew that you were attracted to it regardless.

On his end, Johnny was absolutely wrecked on you. From the way he’s going down on you, with an eagerness that only a starved man could possess (and in a sense, he was one), it’s no secret, either. With how well he managed to hide his desire it got difficult for you to remember that he wanted you as much as you did him, and that was an unsafe amount.

You could feel your orgasm creeping up on you steadily. Your gut was practically screaming it at you, and god you couldn’t wait to cum on his tongue. Every day after the next wasn’t simply edging, but plain orgasm denial. Today was the day the torture was meant to stop.

“Close,” you moaned, as if it weren’t obvious enough, “gonna cum.”

He hummed a muffled, “Yeah?” Johnny knew that you wouldn’t last much longer. Aside from the sensation tearing through your stomach, all the outwardly noticeable clues were the tremble of your thighs and the sounds you made. Though much to your misfortune, the next would be of disappointment instead of delight as he moved away from you yet again.

“Sorry, baby,” he for once sounded decently apologetic. “But I want you to cum when I’m inside you.”

“Fuck me,” you pleaded, although you didn’t have to. Johnny was set on his goal the moment he brought you into his bedroom.

“Trust me, I am. Come here.”

Your movements showed no hesitation as you crawled onto his lap. His lips latched onto your neck and aroused a subtle, soft gasp of surprise from you. You made no attempt to fight his actions though, his hands attacking your skin simultaneously as he tugged at the remaining articles of clothing. As his fingers went for your bra, yours came for his own clothes, unbuttoning his top and slipping it down his shoulders.

Johnny chuckled with amusement at how eager you were. Nevermind himself; he was pinning you back down against the mattress roughly, lips attacking your flesh as his hand slinked beneath your skirt. It wrenched your panties down your thighs and found your clit seconds later, meanwhile his mouth was practically glued to your skin, sucking at your chest, neck, and collarbone. Your neck was most likely covered in hickeys and you knew that, but it felt too good to get concerned over. You figured Johnny would probably have wanted to see them anyways.

The sounds you made each time were cute, but only made Johnny yearn for more. He was going to be an animal the moment he got inside you, wild, untamed, and hunting.

Johnny drew back one final time, knowing what he wanted and that he needed it now. He rummaged throughout the drawers of his dresser swiftly.

You crooked your head to the side. “What are you doing?”

“Finding a condom. Practicing safe sex. Unless, you don’t want me to wear one. I’m clean.”

At that, you were chewing at your bottom lip. Your mind was filled to the brim with dirty scenarios you had thought of before, Johnny cumming inside and making you feel full. You knew the sex would be good either way, but damn it, your imagination had won today.

“I’m on the pill. You can go bareback, if you want,” you murmured, in your attempt to appear as though you hadn’t daydreamed about him fucking you raw.

And of course, he saw right through you. But he only grinned smugly and replied, “Say less. Get on your hands and knees.”

As expected, you took no time to comply. You crawled into position as soon as you heard the command, resting on your palms and knees with your back in an arch. Johnny grabbed a pillow and placed it underneath you, ensuring your comfort first. “You good, baby?”

You nodded. “All good.”

Johnny hummed. He positioned himself behind you not much longer, one hand clutching your waist and the other holding his dick as he then slid inside you. The two of you sighed out immediately in relief - you could feel his grip on you tighten the moment he entered you, and he heard the moan you chirped. There was no doubt that the little waiting game only made this moment better for the both of you, wanting each other in a way that was incomparable to any other feeling you’d ever experienced.

“Fuck, so b-big,” you stammered. You were as aroused as you could have possibly been, but Johnny still had a size you knew would leave you breathless once you saw it through more the print against his pants.

Easing in and out of you, Johnny cooed, “Dick too big for you, baby?” He wouldn’t pick up his pace until he was sure that you were entirely comfortable, and would give you the time to adjust if you needed it. He wanted you to enjoy this as much as he would.

You shook your head. “N-no, I can take it.”

Johnny sported a grin, proud. He whispered, “Good girl.”

He had dreamed of moments like this. Moments where it was just you and him, shutting the world out as you felt each other as closely as you possibly could. Moments where he was pressed deeply inside you, making you moan from every thrust. Moments where he would finally taste a slice of the heaven he had wanted for much longer than he could identify. Johnny had known you wanted him since before a couple of weeks ago. Before that evening in the kitchen, before he confronted you in the hallway, and way before your pool shenanigans. You had always been anything but subtle, and even if you weren’t particularly as bold as you were now, there was always a subconscious ache for him in you that he couldn’t help but sense. You didn’t know it, but you just couldn’t hide your lust.

“Such a good girl. Taking me so well, just like you said you would, princess,” he whispered. That was all it took to make you weak. You were too dazed to tell for sure, but you knew you had probably moaned a little at his praise.

You pushed any other thought back into the spider-y corner in the deep shadows at the back of your brain. Thinking about anything other than Johnny and how he felt between your legs was nearly impossible, and you were relaxed in a way that you hadn’t been in a while. He was just so easy to melt into, someone that made you forget about every other minor and major problem and consequence you’d eventfully have to face.

While he was pounding you from behind, Johnny brought his hand right back underneath your skirt and to your clit. You weren’t surprised that he hadn’t taken it off since he was always unsubtle about his favoritism towards it, and he thought you looked lovely like this.

You whimpered needily, “Johnny.” His fingers were fast at work on you, and in the most positive way possible, you weren’t sure if you could handle it.

“You feel so good, baby girl,” Johnny growled. If anything that only made you want it more, although you already him and he had you.

Sex with Johnny was already better than either of you had ever imagined. There had always been this picture in his head, but now that he could feel you taking every inch of him, he wanted to heighten the feeling and surpass the limits. It was the same for you — your fingers and vibrator could never compare to the feeling of having him inside your walls. He was driving you crazy and you were driving him even crazier.

Even if once was already know risky enough, you were already fantasizing about the next time. You were determined that you could do this “under wraps” thing with him if it meant that you could recreate this feeling again. It was too good to pass up, too good to only have once. There was something so intoxicating about how Johnny felt in you, and how he made you feel generally. Being underneath him alone was somehow one of the most pleasurable things you’d ever felt.

Keeping things under wraps, however, was going to be easier said than done. Not only did it mean keeping this a secret from your best friend, you couldn’t afford to have anyone else find out. But with how the bed creaked, and you were moaning his name loud enough for the neighbors to know what was happening in his bedroom, you were going to need more than a good excuse. You could only hope the walls were thick enough to subdue most of your sounds. The only sounds audible in the room were skin-slapping, moans and grunts, heavy breathing and you swore that you could hear your heartbeat in your brain. You wondered if Johnny could hear it too, or if the banging in your chest was something that only you would be able to pick up on.

The force of Johnny’s thrusts knocked your body forward, enough to cause your face to crash into a pillow. He went at a tolerable pace - not too slow, yet not too fast - and yet, your heartbeat was racing. Maybe it was all the action unfolding around you, or maybe it was simply the exhilaration making your blood feel as though it was zipping throughout your veins. Whatever it was, you knew that you liked it.

There was nothing to not like — Johnny fucked you too good for that. It hadn’t surprised you not even a bit, but Johnny was better than anyone who had ever been between your thighs. He was relentless. The pressure your body felt right then was enough to make you implode.

That was when you could feel it approaching again. It was louder, even more prominent, and you were desperate for Johnny to make you cum. Now that you had finally proved to him that you deserved it, you would snap if he edged you even once more. You were tired of being denied pleasure, and you knew Johnny was tired of denying himself the sweet victory.

“C-cumming, Johnny please,” you begged, plea half-muffled into the pillow. You weren’t above it, not when your orgasm was in arms reach. Johnny had tamed you, and whatever shame or face you had to save was discarded ages ago.

“Fuck, yeah? Hold on,” he muttered.

Johnny changed your positions, moving from behind you to above you, and you underneath him. You glanced at him with furrowed eyebrows, wondering what prompted the change.

As if he could read your mind, he said, “Wanna see your face when you cum, baby girl.”

That made your heart flutter.

It was always painfully obviously when you were far from it. As long as whoever was fucking you was doing a good job, there was never a need to question it, and Johnny was doing a phenomenal one. Never had anyone had you as weak as he did and it was dangerous. You were addicted; and now that you were hooked, it was possible for you to take more of him than was safe.

Yet you couldn’t be bothered. Not now, not when you were so, so close to having it all. You didn’t care what was too much, because it didn’t seem like there was even a such thing as enough. You were on the brink of an orgasm, thighs trembling yet again and your face twisting with pleasure. Johnny hissed at how you were clenching around him, tightening his hold on your hips. He wasn’t at all very much far behind you.

“Johnny,” you cried out.

He leaned low, peppering kisses to your neck. “I got you, baby. Cum for me,” he crooned, almost as breathless as you were.

Moans tumbled from your mouth as you did exactly that, wounding your nails in the bare flesh of his back. Johnny was set off only moments after that, either by your expressions or how you were relentlessly clenching around him, painting your walls with his cum as he groaned sexily into your ear. You couldn’t move, barely even breathe as you rested against your sheets. Your chest rose and fell quickly, but Johnny kissing your skin soothed you; it made everything feel okay.

“How do you feel, princess?” He cooed beside your ear.

You answered through a shallow breath, sporting a grin as you replied, “Full.”

Johnny murmured, satisfied, “Good.” He was showing the utmost appreciation to your body and skin, kissing you and holding you and treating you so gently. It was like being beside him alone made the whole world disappear. He was still inside you, softened up, but he wanted to wallow in this feeling a little longer.

“We’ll do this again, right?” You asked. Maybe it was a little desperate, but you needed to know.

“Of course, baby girl. You thought we did all that waiting just to go one time?”

No, you wanted to say. It wasn’t that you had, but Johnny was unpredictable whenever he wanted to be. You needed a little confirmation, just to be safe.

Instead, you opted for shaking your head. “Will you make me wait again?”

“No,” Johnny shook his head back, “not unless you decide to be a brat again and need to be punished. Think you can be a good girl for me, babe?”

You smiled softly, bobbing your head. The last thing you wanted was to be put through that torture ever again, and if all it took to never experience it again was submitting to Johnny, then it was say less.

You had that out of the way. Johnny was accessible to you, and you to him. There was one small conflict now, you remembered as his phone began to ring, with the caller ID being daughter.

There was still another game that you both had to play; hide and seek.

#johnny smut #nct 127 smut #nct smut #johnny x reader #nct imagines #johnny imagines #johnny suh smut #nct x reader #nct #nct scenarios

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hyunjinsbelovedamericano · 4 months

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Sleepy time with bf! skz

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Tysm for the request! I have wrote something like this before but I have way more ideas

Fluff ofc, implied fem reader on Felix's part

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Bangchan

Winter times is the time where you and bangchans sleeping schedule drop,4am is the new 20:00pm! Even though you have to wake up 3 hours early tomorrow it doesn't stop you from staying up late

Youd end up scrolling on Amazon looking up things that you wanted, Chan knew that you were a shopaholic your basket was FLOODED with items

"baby,you can't keep adding items to your basket like that"

"What why"

"You don't have that much money"

"Yeah but you do"

Chan sighed knowing he couldn't say anything back to this,he always wanted to shower you with gifts he should expect your basket to overflowed like that.

He didn't wanna keep you up too long though,so he cradled you to sleep like you were a baby,your knees would be up to chin and you would be laying on your side,Chan would put him arms around your waist his warm hands relieving any type of pain your stomach was having

Lee know

Lee know would 100% loveeee to cuddle with you and his cats, it's like free melatonin.Soongie would be in between the both of you, purring from the head scratches.

If you're struggling to sleep, say no more, Soongie, Doongie,Dori and Minho are to the rescue!It's like sleeping on clouds, it's comfy cosy and it has Lee know. What more could you want? Right before going to sleep Lee know would help you prepare for bed, if you weren't having such a good day he would help you with your skincare, make sure you have fresh pjs you just have to go to sleep stress free.

He would be a bit confused though, I don't think he would have the best knowledge on how these face masks work

"No,lino-you,you have to-wait"

The face mask would end up all over your face, even going in your mouth once

From now on you know to sheet face masks preventing anything bad happening in the future

Changbin

Changbin always had energy so it would be harder to fall asleep with him,he's constantly so giggly and silly but it's hard to hate him because.. It's changbin

You had a very big collection of plushies which changbin found very cute, before you even started dating you forced him to memorise the plushies names. You had them piled up on the side of the bed and made him name the plushies you picked up.

"Whats his name?"

"That's a he? I thought it was a she-"

You would get frustrated with him not being able to remember ANY of them, you taught him this!

"Changbin! You know this"

"I kinda don't though"

You sigh heavily and plop down on the bed beside him,

"I was too busy looking at your pretty face"

He would try to cheer you up with being a flirt, it wasn't gonna be that easy though. He would have to smother your face is kisses and cuddle you trying to get you to relax, once he noticed that you started getting sleepy he would lay his head on his chest playing with your hair,falling asleep with you

Hyunjin

Hyunjin would treat you like a princess, he wants to make sure you enjoy every bit of your rest,you guys would be snuggled up in a heated blanket he got you for your birthday, this time of the month is the coldest and he definitely doesn't want you to get sick

If you had trouble sleeping he would sing you to sleep,play with your hair until you fall asleep. Anything that makes you feel at ease

When you wake up kkami would be there in between the both of you,how did he even get here? Whatever he's here now and that's all that matters

You guys would have debates on who has to switch off the light

"Hyunjin I'm already in bed"

"So am i"

"Yeah, but, I got here first"

"I don't wanna get up tho"

"Neither do I!"

You would end up forcing him to do it 🤷‍♀️

Han

Omg han would snore so loud,your trying to get some peaceful rest and all of a sudden you hear this agitating grating sound, turns out it han! And he's snoring

You expressed to him how loud and annoying he can be when he's asleep, to this he just acts oblivious and clueless

"What dym I snore? No I don't"

"Are you certain?."

But when he doesn't snore you guys would be pulling all-nighters knowing you have to wake up early the next day

Binge watching your fav k-dramas, one more episode wouldn't hurt right?

I honestly see han being a drooler, he sleeps with his mouth open most of the time which causes drool to fall down the side of his mouth, ew

Felix

He would ramble to the extreme, like daymn don't you ever run out of words to say?

Yk those clips of him where he just says the most stupidest things to ever exist, yeah he's gonna dump them on you

"Yk how Australia is two or three hours ahead of Korea,if you think about it when I go from Sydney to Korea... I'm basically time traveling"

"Felix go to sleep"

All he does is talk honestly,yappa yappa yappa

He would talk until you fall asleep, when he's not talking about stupid shit, he would be talking about your future

Like your wedding day, how many kids you wanna have

"We should have 5 kids"

"NOO"

"Why not?"

"If ur birthing the kids then sure"

Seungmin

You and seungmin would 100% pillow flight, even if you're not awake he'd hit you with a pillow

If you have to get up early and you're not waking up he's just hit you with the nearest pillow he can find

"Honey wake up"

"Honey get your ass up"

".... Okay then"

All of a sudden you'd wake up from being brutally attacked by a pillow, how rude of him

"Seungmin, ow-what are you doing?!"

"I told you to wake up"

What a menace

Jeongin

I lowkey think jeongin would sleep walk, just for lil bit yk😋

You would wake up in the middle of the night and turn to side to see no jeongin, where did he go?

Just as you were about to get up to look for him you heard a creak from the door, you turned to see jeongin leaning his head against the door

Obviously you were confused like,what when how why

You rushed to him and tapped him on the shoulder gently not wanting to alarm him

"Jeongin wtf"

This seemed to awake his from... Whatever and he snapped back into reality

"How did I get here?"

"I don't know you tell me"

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

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suiana · 10 months

Text

yandere general x traitor reader

"..why?"

"how could you expect me to love an empire who took everything away from me? even moreso the guy who made my life a living hell?"

being the sole survivor of a fallen kingdom was a hard thing to accept, especially when you had been forced to become a slave to the monstrous empire who did this to you. you, a member of a royal family had been forced to become a slave in a matter of five days.

it was shocking at first. in fact, you refused to accept it. you still believed that your family was alive, that you were a cheerful and happy royal member of a prosperous little kingdom. yet the constant beatings, insults and mockery from the victor empire dragged you out of that delusion.

the embarrassment, shame, and guilt you had to bare was insulting. to think that a royal member would be reduced to such a status of cleaning horse shit... death would've been a much better option.

he should've killed you. he really should've. why did he even spare you? it made no sense at all. because why would a war general, known for being heartless and cruel, even spare a member of the royal family they were sent to kill?

the emperor wouldn't even question it! just accepted the general's actions and went along his merry way! fuck, you were honestly looking forward to getting beheaded at the possibility of getting killed off... but the general just had to be so trustworthy that the emperor would allow him to do as he pleases. and the fact that he was from a powerful duchy didn't help either.

and so, you had to clean up shit for a while, sleeping in rags and getting beaten up by people of the opposing nation. it was humiliating. you had considered ending yourself on multiple occasions, yet the cautious eyes of the general you had been forced to work for prevented you from doing so.

whenever you tried something dangerous, he'd always be there to stop you. it was as if he were watching you, carefully monitoring you like a specimen. worse of all! he didn't beat you up or berate you for attempting suicide! he did the exact opposite! gently tending to your wounds, kissing your forehead while washing your now frail body... he treated you more like a lover than a slave.

initially, you were confused by his caring actions. didn't he spare you just so he could torment you? but when you observed how his eyes would soften, how you had preferential treatment, you couldn't help but feel the need to use him.

he did whatever you wanted him to. getting rid of those who bullied you, giving you the status of a servant rather than a slave, money, information. he gave you everything you asked for. all he asked in return was your love. but how could you give it to him when he was the one who changed your life for good? luckily you were an amazing actor.

you played him like a fool, dancing around him like this were all but a silly show for your entertainment. and it truly was. for you were secretly gathering a rebellion against him and the empire. thankfully the empire had lots of enemies, so many were willing to join you. it took lots of effort and patience but you had finally done it. and now it was time for the final act to begin.

fire, murder, death. the plan was simple enough. give the empire what it deserved. you had to attribute majority of your success to the general, really. for if it weren't for his foolishness this plan would've never worked out. I mean, who would in their right mind fall for the one who ruined their life? the general had too much of a fantasy that you'd willingly accept him. so much so that it was a little pathetic.

the night hadn't gone as smoothly as you wanted it to be but nonetheless, the main goal was accomplished. murder the royal family and tear down the empire. sure, it was cruel. but they had it coming for them. after all this was the kingdom who did as they wished. starting wars for no reason, invading lands that did not belong to them... this was merely retribution.

you laughed heartily, staring at the destruction around you as you prepared to leave. yet, one person stood in your path. the general who wanted nothing but your love.

tear stricken and heartbroken he stared at you like you had committed the worst crime. but you couldn't really care. you tried getting your horse to speed away from him. however, he wasn't the most feared general for nothing. within a few seconds the positions were reversed and he had the high ground.

you laid on the cobblestone streets, his sword beside your neck as he cried silently while the empire burnt to ashes. no! you couldn't fail! not when everything had gone smoothly! you tried squirming away only for him to stop you by caging your body in between his body. his sword had been discarded and he had resorted to using his body to keep you with him.

and you couldn't stop him. not when he was twice your size with strength rivaling a god's.

"I... I am very disappointed."

you rolled your eyes at his sentence. however, you remained completely still in his arms as he burrowed his face into the crook of your neck. whatever, you'll just run away when he stands up and things will be all back to plan. you just have to deal with his antics for a little while longer.

"I never thought you would act out. not when we were so in love. I guess... I'll just have to teach you."

you sighed. what was he onto now? he had lost his duchy, his empire and-

"let's die together, shall we?"

he smiles at you, tears completely dry as he brings a small dagger up to your cheek. your heartbeat started to race, eyes widened as you shook your head in fear. wait was he serious?!

"don't worry darling. I'll kill myself after I kill you. then we'll be together for all eternity..."

he continues smiling as the sharp dagger caresses your neck, threatening to draw blood.

"I love you so much, my dear. It's just a shame you had to act out like this. I truly wanted to live a happy ever after with you! if only you hadn't brought ruin to the empire...."

he mumbles sadly, pressing the knife against your throat harshly, drawing small beads of blood that stained the dagger red.

"I'll see you in hell in a minute."

slice!

and the world fades to black.

#tw yandere #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere knight #yandere knight x reader #yandere drabbles #yandere scenarios #suiana brainrotting #suiana rambling #yandere oneshot

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machiavellli · 4 months

Text

Some Lorenzo Berkshire headcanons˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

Notes: after a month I made them. I am truly sorry, I am the ceo of procrastination. But I had so much fun writing those though, because Lorenzo is my silly lovely boy, I wanna hug him so bad, he too precious. And this song, reminds me of him so bad, like every time I listen to it, my mind immediately jumps to him.

Honestly I got a bit carried away, I wanted to cover maybe other parts, like how he is as a boyfriend, but well-. You read it and of course you can tell me what you think after :)

Pairing: Lorenzo Berkshire x reader

Infos: pretty much just fluff, possible dramatic scene, no use of y/n, Lorenzo being cute, mutual pinning, English is not my first language (please if you find any mistake report them to me!).

—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-

Lorenzo Berkshire, the most precious slytherin boy:

You two first met when you were just children because of your families

And I don’t know about you, but I used to despise boys so much when I was little, until I was seven (or perhaps even eight), so I kinda imagine your first meeting to be not that charming.

Like little Enzo panicking because he can’t understand what he did wrong, why this little girl is making such a disgusted face for him

But as you two grow more comfortable around each other, he becomes your best boy friend.

You two have many chances to see each other during your childhood and you always tried to make the best out of each encounter.

The type of kids that would cry when they have to separate after playing all day together.

And also the type of children that would definitely try to pull a prank on little Draco, just for them to get chased down by Lucius Malfoy himself after and cry frightened.

But something inside you two changes when you both are forced into your first ballroom dancing class (I headcanon that all the high-ranking families in the magical society enjoy hosting elegant dinners and balls, so follow me on this)

The proximity between you two, the touch of her hand, totally make little Enzo go all flushed.

Therefore, that soft innocent crush in the heart of the two children starts to blossom.

You drew hearts next to his name in your diary, imprisoning your feelings at the edge of a paper too scared to burn at the sight of the light, too scared to show this growing affection.

Little Enzo would sometimes pick a flower from his garden, trying to build some courage in himself for giving it to you. But that never happens.

When you get to Hogwarts he is your rock.

Perhaps if you an introvert he is the one introducing you to people or literally bringing you inside a friend group.

Ever heard of the trope “extrovert adopts an introvert”? Like that I mean.

Anyway, the crush is still there, of course, but none of you dare to even consider talking about it. Because no one has the guts to risk losing their favorite person.

Lorenzo is very cheerful, a ray of sunshine, and as he grows more people start to notice. And that’s a problem.

You are jealous, terribly.

Seeing those girls approaching him, giggling like infants, even when you are right at his side, hurts you.

He always refuse them politely and you smile in you mind.

Lorenzo is such a gentleman and everybody knows it.

Always giving you his arm while walking, opening doors,

moving chairs,

asking “how did you sleep darling?” or “have you eaten today dear?”

hugging you every time you see each other,

Offering his jacket to you as soon as he notice that it is becoming a little cold

Listening you ramble for hours about your favorite subject or a book you just read, always with that delicious little smile painted on his face.

And if he finds you crying for whatever reason he will take you into his arms immediately.

Listening to you explain through your tears what happened, while one hand strokes your hair gently and the other your back.

Seeing you hurt has an effect on him, definitely will let a couple of tears slip while you can’t see him.

Lorenzo is an empath, he will understand you and he will comfort you.

Also I feel like his love language is debatable, but he will definitely like to touch you, to feel your presence concretely.

Even if you two are not together he will often try to pull out an arm around your shoulders, always respecting your decision to refuse it and your personal vital space though.

Perhaps, sometimes, as you are all focused making your pen run during your studies session, he will look at your hand, wishing to be able to linger over it without an explanation.

He is also jealous, of course, because no one knows how desperate he is for you, how he feels blinded by how beautiful you have grown.

He feels his eyes and heart burning when a guy at a party tries to hit on you.

The golden retriever energy is suddenly gone and Theo will pull out a worried look for his friend.

But you aren’t his, how stupid it is of him to ache himself for something he never had.

After another scene of this kind, Theo decides to ask him about this totally not subtle behavior of his. (You already know that I headcanon Enzo and Theo to be best buddies shhh)

It takes a while for him to confess, but either for the tipsy state or the exhaustion that this situation has brought to him, he confess.

After years, let’s say it happens in the 6th year, he finally tells someone, felling already a bit lighter.

Theo looks at him, trying to not laugh, but miserably fails: “mate do you need glasses?”

And then he explains to him that anyone can see that something is going on between the two.

That you look at him like he is the sun lighting your existence and so does he with you.

Perhaps it is time to act now, to not fear, to be brave.

He won’t ask you directly though, I see him more prone to writing down a letter to you

Pouring on paper his feelings, how exceptionally well you make him feel, in conclusion, his love for you.

The angel sent from above that you are in his eyes, that he always had and always will e have at his side if he seals with ink his emotions.

Perhaps it could look something like this:

My Dearest,

In the quiet corners of my soul, I've carried a secret for what feels like an eternity, my heart dances to the rhythm of your name. Amidst youthful dreams and uncertain tomorrows, your laughter echoes in my thoughts, painting vivid hues in the canvas of my days. With each passing day, your radiance grows, illuminating the path of my existence. Today, in this moment of bravery, perhaps taken by a Gryffindor spirit, I dare to confess what has long lingered unspoken: I adore you beyond measure.

Yours sincerely,

Lorenzo

And do we want the realization dramatic? Of course, is that even a question?

You recive his letter in a moment of privacy, perhaps in a quiet corner of the library while you are studying.

A first year approach you and quickly says “It is from Lorenzo Berkshire, he wants to know what you think then” before running away.

You look at the letter puzzled, looking at the delicate handwriting in which your initials are written on the outside.

You open the letter and everything just stops.

Only your eyes move, running desperately over and over again on the words overflowed by pure love.

How is it that you never noticed?

How is it that someone can love you so deeply?

The clock has continued its tireless dance for too long and you finally had enough.

There it won’t be peace until you found him.

An exceptional energy, filled with excitement, happiness and love, takes over you.

You suddenly snap, lifting yourself up from your cozy spot, leaving everything behind, because your real everything is in front of you.

The sound of your shoes, tirelessly beating against the hard floor as you run, is all you can hear.

People send concerned look in your way as you brush not so cordially their shoulder, trying to make your way to your lover.

The halls are full, the rain is once again pouring outside, you don’t even know where you are going, simply drove by the now fully ignited sentiment.

Lorenzo is repaired outside in the viaduct courtyard, waiting for his friends to be done with their smoking when he sees you.

You, bravely exiting the library annex, making your way to the viaduct bridge, looking left and right, looking for him.

Without a word to the others he starts running in your direction, the rain quickly wetting him entirely.

You are now both running, from opposite side of the bridge, people gathering around looking as the scene consume before them.

It is cold,

It is wet,

The nature is gray under the fog.

But two hearts beat ferociously, desperately trying to approach the other.

Your drenched hair flows with your movement, hands in a fist, your vision lightly blurred.

And in the middle of the bridge he catches you.

An hug full of every word neglect for so long.

He spins you around for has many years he had to wait for this, before he lets you go, moving his hands to cup your face gently as the rain harshly pours on you.

Eyes so desperate to crawl into the other’s spirit.

“I sense my letter has reached you” he will say smiling like an idiot drunk on love

You giggle, like the kids you used to be.

Because you have known each other for a lifetime, but only now he has found you.

“My dear, I love you” he will say before kissing you, warming your body, lighting your existence.

Everything faded then, from the cheers of the other students looking at the theatrical scene, to the screams of the various professor trying to pull you inside.

Your heart finally funded his.

—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-

I hope you liked them🫶✨

my ask box is open btw!

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simplyreveries · 4 months

Note

Can I request Lilia, Malleus, and Ortho (platonic for Ortho obviously) x a reader who puts on an act of being a “perfect girl” and always happy but in reality is quite depressed (in the sense where it feels like where their feelings should be is just an empty slot.)? Not forcing you to do this of course ^^

lilia vanrouge

he would lightly jest and tease you all the time— as he can see right through you and your attitude. lilia is definitely someone who you can easily allow yourself to let loose and be more of yourself around him. he always pops up randomly and finds you, usually its surprising and he’ll be doing it some strange way hanging from a ceiling giving you some mischievous smile aha and ask “what's with the sorrowful mood, dear?” despite not showing it, he just has that sense.

you can deny it with a smile all you want but it's nearly impossible to hide anything from this guy. he only shakes his head with a smile at your persistence. thinks your attempts are silly but he wont keep on pushing, he usually prompts to doing things that will make you more comfortable to drop the whole act— he does it in a fun but loving way. he will make it his ultimate goal to make it feel like you can at least tell him anything!

and the time you finally decide to feel more okay sharing how you really feel, he’ll smile slightly even, in a more comforting and sweet way that you're opening up to him. he’ll consider himself quite special. “oh love, that wasn't so difficult was it…?” he’ll let you let out your feelings and emotions however long you want (he’ll tell you he’ll spend the whole night by your side comforting you if he has to and honestly you have to shut that down because he wasn't joking.)

malleus draconia

whenever you and him had your nightly chats outside ramshackle during the cold nights he had always caught some glimpse of you getting tired and stressed with your current situation and letting your act slip— seeing more of what the real you is. he’ll tilt his head slightly, looking down at you and listening quite intently. he does try to give his own advice to help alleviate your troubles.

he would never point out how different you seem when talking to him at night in the privacy of the two of you— in comparison to the bright and confident person you seem to portray yourself as to always be when he sees during the day when you're out and with the others like ace and deuce. he just silently watches and continues to listen and talk to you. he doesn't fully understand you at first, but he wants you to be happy.

malleus is someone you really can lean on… like literally. you could be sitting or standing next to him and feel like its hard and want to lean against him and he will always welcome you to. he loves it if anything, he’ll place a hand on the small of your back or the side of your head in a comforting manner and remind you “youre okay, dearest”

ortho shroud

may have accidentally exposed you once when he was “scanning” once and reading your mood and he asked you why you were so upset? he seemed genuinely concerned though and listed off something you can do to “improve your mood easily!” he's just trying to look out for you haha. he doesn't fully understand yet that you're trying to pretend to be someone you're not.

ortho is used to having to push his brother a little when it comes to being less of a recluse and trying to help him out— he’ll help you too, if you’ll let him. I feel like because he doesn't fully see it it'd take him actually catching you letting yourself slip when no one is around. since then, he would go out of his way to see you daily at school during the day and try to at least cheer you up.

he does feel like someone you genuinely can talk to despite not necessarily being human himself he can be as understanding as he can be with the knowledge he knows. and like i said he’s used to idia’s withdrawn and depressed behavior at times as well. you'll just always seem to have him find you somewhere and his energy makes it hard to really seem sad. he care's a lot about his friends!

#twst #disney twst #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #disney twisted wonderland #twst headcanons #twst wonderland #twisted wonderland #twst imagines #lilia vanrouge #malleus draconia #malleus x reader #malleus draconia x reader #lilia x reader #lilia vanrouge x reader #ortho shroud

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kneelingshadowsalome · 8 months

Text

Immortal (Ghost x Medic!Reader Pt. 3)

"The path to paradise begins in hell."

— Dante Alighieri

Word count: 5.5 k

Summary: He knows now why he always returns to her. It's because he was injured. Badly, severely, life-threateningly injured – no, he was already deceased. What kind of a medic has the power to resurrect the dead? (Last part of Ghost stories.)

Tags/warnings: 18+ only. Angst, fluff, smut. Protective!Simon Ghost Riley. Graphic depictions of PTSD, suicidal thoughts and depression, mild violence. Emotional sex, love confessions, happy ending. Ghost POV.

"You can't come here, lieutenant. Not unless you're injured."

No one has ever scolded him.

He's the one who whips people into shape, who makes them recall who and where they are, that Task Force 141 is no place for fuckery. Now he's the one being reminded of his place.

Somehow it's ok to bring her flowers before dinner, but ever since he started to bring her coffee to get an excuse to see her at work, she began to shut down. He can fuck her doggy style at her place, but if he so much as lifts his mask to kiss the back of her neck at her office, she bats him away like an annoying fly.

And he's fucking confused.

He thought he was doing the right thing. He thought that women like to be courted. Now he's standing in the middle of her apartment, waiting for… he doesn't even know what. Pardon, perhaps.

"Why do you always call me lieutenant?"

"Well I can't call you Simon at work, can I?"

She's chaste and decent. Has been like that for a while now, retreating back to her role of a distant professional.

Something's troubling her, and he tries to get to the bottom of it. Tries his best to cheer her up, even if it's absurd that someone like him attempts to do that.

"Y'could use the alias."

"I'm not going to call you that."

She reads Virgil while making it clear that he's quite ridiculous. A ghost. It must remind her of a children's book rather than something stealthy and fatal; to her, it's a grown man's sad attempt to play a superhero.

"Did you come up with the name yourself?" Her voice has a whiff of irony as she finally spares him a glance from her hard-cover poetry.

"...No," he lies, too soon. Far too soon. She catches him on it, pants down.

"You're a silly, silly man." She shakes her head slowly and returns to her book. Last week, it was Dante who had better things to offer, far better things compared to him – such as a more poetic depiction of hell.

But even with the distant aura he can't quite pierce, she gives him a concept of what it would be like to have a home. A real home where you don't have to dread the evening and everything it brings out in people. Even when he was doing the SAS Fan Dance and lying on the cold ground to have a compulsory 2-hour shut-eye, he never missed home. The weather-beaten trail and a flapping tarp were still a cosier place than the one he'd left behind.

The closest thing to an actual home was always solitude. A few days without routine. A cold shower in the morning to wake him, but not frigid enough to kill the erection. A good, unhurried fap and some stale spit circling down the drain. No one giving him a pitiful eye for tossing old takeaway in the bin and opening the cupboard only to be met with some canned food and table salt.

Now, the first thing in the morning is the sensation of her. Fingertips sneaking their way under his arm and ghosting his stomach, stirring him so softly he doesn't quite know if he's gone to heaven. Home is a sleepy nest and slow kisses followed by the sounds of brewing coffee. Home has become a place of mundane tasks: helping her water the plants and tasting whether the vanilla pudding she made has enough sugar. Changing sheets together, listening to the fitful sea as it breaks upon the shore. Watching how she reads of the Trojan War.

When he just stands there, admiring how her manicured nails glide over the pages, she talks to him again without raising her lashes from the book.

"Did you need something?"

…You. All of you.

Now and forever.

"Ya wanna go out to eat tonight?"

Finally, he grabs her attention. The distance between them is sewn up so fast even a jerk like him can understand he finally made the right fucking move.

"What about your… The mask?"

He shrugs.

"I thought you liked my cooking," she gives him a smile. Sly… Foxy.

"I do. But let me feed you for a change."

He sees in that stare and the way she purses her lips that she's trying to prevent a dirty joke from coming out of her pretty little mouth. As much as he appreciates that little cunning look, as much as he loves when that mouth gets a little dirty, he's more than serious now.

"Come on. Let me take you out."

"Well. If you insist," she smiles, shuts the book, and flies to her closet to pull out a stunner of a dress.

…..…..…..

Her fingertips always make his cock stir. They were supposed to go to sleep – a rare thing, to not slip inside her after a nice lil evening. To his surprise she starts to trace the few hairs on his stomach, threading through them as they thicken below.

He can feel how she gets tense upon seeing that he's hard and heavy before she even reaches there. But she's not tense from anticipation.

"I overheard some of the guys talking about us. Or, well, me."

His cock gives a tug, and she still doesn't touch it.

"How I'm your luxury whore."

The curtain shifts as the wind plays with it: softly, while he's ripped out of the dark safety of the womb.

"Luxury…" She laughs, but it's bitter and thick. "Isn't it funny?"

He's hard now mainly because of the fury that rises. It ripples through his chest and pulls his stomach taut.

"Was it the rookie?"

He hears his voice from far away, from under the sea, but luckily, her hand brings him back. It's placed on him again, this time further up. She likes to trace the cavity between his pecs, pet the hair she finds there, too. Sometimes, she buries her face there and inhales his sweat, then uses that spot as her pillow. It's that very moment when he finds peace if he already hasn't by then.

"You don't have to defend my honour," the night speaks softly.

So, it was the rookie.

Nothing but a boy, younger than Soap and cockier than he was when he left Manchester with nothing but a duffel bag on his shoulder. Nothing but a boy, and she knows how boys are. She knows how boys talk. She wouldn't be in the Force if she took filthy quips seriously.

But this is fucking different. The fantasies of what he'll do to the fucker when he gets back get sicker and more beautiful by the second.

"Just… don't come there anymore unless you're injured. Ok?"

He can't hear her because the vile word overrides even the gorgeous visions of torture. It gathers up his throat as bile, and he barely has time to take a deep breath to force it down before it's too late.

"I'm gonna go take a shower."

"At this hour…?"

"Can't sleep anyway."

He reaches the bathroom just in time before the vomit flies. The power of it forces him on his knees, forces him to take hold of the door frame. Everything he fed to her shoots up, like it was only a dream that he could make her happy.

…Are you just here for sex?

Her shy question echoes from the tiles as another retch pulls the rest of his love out.

He's sweating worse than the time they had to operate him in the field, back when a bullet had worked its way through the naked spot between the straps of his plate carrier. The shower washes some of it away, but the stench stays, the foul word and the insolence, all the shallow things he has given her coat the insides of his mouth no matter how many times he tries to spit it away. The water only does so much, and she's still not asleep by the time he returns to her.

The luxury is waiting for him, silky and sweet.

Wet, even, if he wants.

"Baby… Honey?"

Baby.

He feels his guts in his throat again but swallows them down. She's beautiful, even when sad and sorry. Sorry, and for what? For him, instead of herself and what she's been called, the spite she has had to suffer simply for lying down in the filth with him.

"Are you okay...?"

"Yeah."

He goes to her, pulls her in his arms, and hopes he doesn't smell of puke.

"They're just words. Right?"

I'm more than just your whore, right?

Her hand doesn't shy away from the sweat that breaks through his back. She's not afraid of him, even when he's the monster she never asked for. He can respect that kind of fearlessness.

"You're awfully quiet," she tries.

Baby, please don't go berserk, is what he hears.

"Go to sleep, pet," he calls forth his softest voice, relieved to notice it sounds more like a lullaby than a command. He allows her to kiss him, wondering if she can taste the grave.

"Yes, sir," she breathes a soft smile in his mouth. Then she turns and coats herself with his arm. It must feel heavy around her, but she only gives a happy sigh. "I always sleep better with you. You feel so good… Safe."

He wonders how strange it is that love sometimes feels like pain. Her words come close to a knife slowly being pushed to his insides. They're still burning when she mutters the last essential thing, already half-asleep in his arms.

"They're just words, Simon…"

…..…..…..

He doesn't know much about poetry, but perhaps Dante was right.

The heart of hell is not a fiery lake of torment but an icy, cold, stagnant place. There's nothing there. Everything is frozen: screams, thoughts, even dreams.

He's walked through grey rubble and drenched asphalt, through alleyways of havoc and debris, he's trekked through desolate woodland and marsh. He's run through life like it's a day-to-day race to not get killed, but the worst of it isn't the bullets or the cold or the wind or the rain. It's the sleepless nights, the inertia. His soul in chains. On those nights, he wanted to get killed.

And yet, he's not the only one who has suffered the unfortunate event of being dragged through every plane of hell. He's not the first man to go through the funnel, nor is he the last. It only looks bad in a society where he's supposed to own a credit card and a house. It only tastes like shit when someone asks "How does it make you feel?"

People like him shouldn't go to therapy at all. His solution was to quit playing a modern man the minute he realized he's no longer fit for that role. He's simply a dead body, reanimated to serve a purpose. He's a sharp tool, a weapon. (A zombie.)

He serves the greater good, but everyone knows the greater good is propaganda too. There's no grand fight between light and darkness. Good and evil only conduct people's choices: even his old man must've thought he was making the world a better place by playing the rebel. He told him he served the Queen just to piss that sodded bastard off, but the truth is he never served anyone. Not even himself.

Now, there's an odd purpose to his task. Now, every cell in his body is full of animus.

He's an animated corpse, perhaps, but they forgot to bury the wrath.

"Where's the rookie?"

"Getting stapled."

"Where?"

Which room?

Which fucking room?

He doesn't stay to heed directions. He doesn't need them; his instinct tells him enough. He doesn't even bother to knock, simply barges in, only to see that the boy sits on the bed he used to sit on, in the exact same position as him. And he knows it's not just the blood loss that makes the fucker look so drowsy and smug.

The fury is pierced with an ice-tinged sword as he sees her gentle touch – she's tending to the wounds of an ungrateful kid with the same compassion she gives to all her patients, and the first thing on his mind is that she would make a good mother.

"What're you doing here?"

His voice is soaked in ash, but the boy only looks up from the bed with pure, trouble-seeking gall.

"What are you doing here…? Sir."

She's looking at him too. She's pleading with those eyes. Silently, desperately.

"You can't come here, lieutenant. Not unless you're injured."

Her request only now makes sense as he sees how the boy looks him up and down and sees there's not a scratch on him. There's no reason for him to be here other than to relieve the pain in his loins.

"Well… Have fun," the rookie jumps from the table, and the rage threatens to pull him underwater like a tide. He never needed anything but his voice to stop a man in his tracks. Not size, not rank, not even his reputation, just voice.

"My office. Five minutes."

The boy dares to give him another foul look.

"Is that all you need? Just five minutes?"

He even detects admiration in that stare – like he's some stallion, a prized old stud who receives fine mares to rut. Like the celestial woman standing behind this… boy is just some slag thrown to him like they threw to gladiators of old. His luxury whore.

The rookie finally catches the impending wrath that must swell and roil like sea inside the sockets of the skull.

Yes, boy.

Death is coming.

"Sir," the boy swallows with an arduous blob, then walks out of the goddess's domain, finally with some humility upon those shoulders.

The torture has already begun, and it shoots him full of sweet adrenaline. He tries to mask the rising war from her, but she sees enough just before he leaves her as well. Her words follow him but cannot penetrate the cloak of fury that shrouds him as he goes to prepare for carnage.

"Simon. I just stitched him together..."

…..…..…..

He doesn't solve the problem with a gun or a cock this time.

He uses his fists and a knife.

It should disgust him; how much he enjoys it. It's one of those rare occasions when he almost loses himself in the riptide of blood. The things he imagines are far worse than what he finally allows himself to do. When the boy has a split lip and half his face swollen so bad he can't even see from the bruise, when the wetness dampens the crotch area and threatens to stain the carpet, he lets him go.

"Get out."

He's a different man when he rises from beside that broken boy; from next to the knife he plunged to the floor an inch away from his face to make his intentions clear. The boy is stripped of all arrogance and probably regrets the day he got the splendid idea to insult a woman.

He doesn't have to get his hands deep into paperwork to have the rookie transferred; the boy does it for him. He leaves the base quietly as a shadow and with a face that looks like it has been forced through a waffle maker.

After that, everyone salutes him feet away.

His orders are obeyed without question, without a second's delay on missions. He has never pursued to be loved, but neither has he worked on making people fear him. Now he's not only a source of mystery and intrigue but also fear and wonder.

Soap isn't scared quite as shitless as the rest of them, but neither is he as friendly as he used to be. Price says nothing but he gets a few looks that tell him he has gone too far.

"You shouldn't have," she whispers when they're alone, stopping him in the quiet hallway. She's the only one who doesn't have fear and avoidance in her stare. If anything, the adoration in her eyes has deepened.

He has avoided her strictly, this time obeying her request not to go to her unless he has business there. He doesn't defend himself; he doesn't have the luxury to decide what should or shouldn't be done. He's not a saint nor a judge. He is territorial, though.

"You must be the craziest man I've ever met."

She talks to his shadow as he's standing only a few feet away, unable to touch her.

"Good."

"...and the most incredible."

His sharp intake of air hisses between them as the artificial light casts shadows in electric blue. She tries to thank him for bashing a face in, all her noble Hippocratic Oaths forgotten.

She takes a step – just one, to make it perfectly clear she wants to touch him too.

"You're a brute, Simon."

The woman's eyes are a deep sea of gratitude. He wonders if she's equally as wet between those legs. Her voice says it all: she likes brutes.

The worship in her stare makes him understand why wars have been waged – this is the reason why crusaders sloshed through rivers of crimson blood, why whole civilizations were destroyed. This is why swords are forged and guns are fired. He draws another breath to swear his allegiance, an oath bound in blood.

"No one's gonna call you a–"

She crosses the final breadth of air between them and lifts his mask.

…..…..…..

The waves crash on the shore like clockwork. To him, it's the sound of limbo.

The sea used to pull him in like a seductive pit, especially at night, during the sleepless shifts when he walked to the beach with nothing but the ghosts of all the people he had lost to keep him company. Watching all the futures and should have been's slowly drowning in the sea.

Now he’s here with a living being, and the cold, dead sea has turned into blooming fireworks of crimson and coral. The amnesia has turned into bliss; all the treasures lost in the depths suddenly wash up on the shore like a sunken hoard.

She takes her shoes off the minute they reach the shore, then descends the sands with laughter. She could be from a movie or a magazine, gliding through bleached gold with sunbeams in her hair, sandals dangling from the crook of her fingers, heathers kissing her feet as she dives down the path. Her smile eclipses even the setting sun, and for the first time ever, he thinks it might've been a stupid idea to enlist.

If there’s an opposite to ice and inertia, it's this.

It's her.

"You lied to me," she turns around but doesn't stop walking. "You have been to the beach."

She tilts her head as if reprimanding him, but he knows she's just laughing at his expense. She laughs at his name… She laughs at his broodings, she laughs at his shadows and his hubris.

"Does anyone else know about this place?"

"No."

There's no soul out here but theirs; even the seagulls have withdrawn to rest. She stops to admire the sun, features turning soft as she takes in her counterpart. Apparently, she likes his humble tribute, the scarcity he has to offer. Some hollow bones, his opinion of a beach. Emptiness… A day coming to an end.

"I have no words for this."

"It's just a beach," he offers, and swallows when she turns. When the fuck has he ever felt embarrassed? His mask is gone, so she can see him swallow again as she approaches. It's the strangest thing how she can still cause his heart to hammer in his chest. He's used to stepping into a hail of bullets, driving a truck through a wall, waiting for that last unaware step to lunge forth and slit a man's throat. The organ never wailed then.

Her eyes take in his every flaw and scar, the rotten work on his skin before she wraps her hands around his neck.

"No. No it's not. This is paradise."

She has to rise on her toes to kiss him, and he's glad he got rid of the mask. There's nothing between him and the taste of summer anymore – she reminds him of some bright tropical drink, something pure and sweet and innocent, pure fucking fun, something he has come to understand and define only through movies and tv.

And he knows now why he always comes back to her. It's because he was injured. Badly, severely, life-threateningly injured – no, he was already deceased.

She has introduced him back to the world: the sun, the birdsong, the simple, good life. How it feels like to have curtains, or bake just because it's Thursday, or walk barefoot on the beach in order to feel the burning sand on your skin.

What kind of a medic has the power to resurrect the dead?

"Simon," she shivers into his mouth. "I'm sorry. I didn't want people to think that… That we're just…"

"Pet. I know."

"They said you didn't trouble yourself with relationships."

Years of instinct and training make his spine tingle. He's holding another future in his arms and hopes it's not possible for a sea to swallow a sun.

"They?"

"Well, John. Captain."

Her lashes hide what's going through her mind, but he can tell she's feeling shy from the way she shifts in his embrace.

"I asked about you. In spring. If there's someone… waiting for you."

He wrestles down a bitter laugh. The only lover ever waiting for him was nothingness in that chair; the only wife he came home to was shades, shadows, and dust.

But he's starting to understand what she's trying to say. How, without even thinking about it, he just made the strongest possible declaration of not being here just for sex. He couldn't have sent a louder message with that boy.

Because not only Jonathan Price know that she's his. Soap knows too. Gaz knows too. Everyone working in Task Force 141 knows, even the fucking scrubbers and accountants know what's going on. Everyone knows that Ghost is real, and alive, and troubles himself with a relationship.

"I dreamed of you, you know." Her lashes flutter open, and he's met with the perfect example of total surrender. She's more than happy with the outcome, and why the hell shouldn't she be? Actions speak louder than words. He of all people should know that.

"Love–"

"Do you remember the day I found out you were a smoker?"

"...Sure."

She laughs, taking him back to the odd meeting in the yard when she was prying her suffocating latex gloves off, and he was trying to find some solace in a cigarette because he couldn't have her.

"I was so angry at you. Playing with death at every turn..."

"Yeah. Not the perfect man."

"But you were. You are."

"Pet. If someone's perfect, it's you."

"No… I'm a hypocrite. I wanted you to just–just take me against the wall. After your stupid smoke."

He always wondered if she was suffocating too. In her gloves, in her beauty, in her sterile, medical, professional chasteness.

But he had no fucking clue that she–

"Or during, I don't care…"

Even the thought of her wanting him to tear apart her facades shatters the last sane thought in his head. He has tried to be civil, tried to suffocate the longing, but apparently, he doesn't have to. The image of burying himself inside her cunt while taking a drag from the thing she despises even more than his name or his mask or his guns is too fucking much. The fact that she views a dog like him as a perfect man makes his cock answer her call like a good, stout soldier.

"Is that so?"

She stops breathing for a moment as he takes a drag from her now. She's raw whiskey straight to an empty stomach, the way his mind goes blank from sliding his mouth over the column of her throat. She tastes of sea there, and it's not pulling him in; it's pulling him under. The open-mouthed kisses make her jolt, he even draws out a moan or two; they swell between his legs.

"You like that…?"

She answers to him with a soft whine. A soft nib of her ear, and her hips reply with a roll. The woman tries to latch onto him by gripping his shirt, threatening to do permanent damage to the fabric.

"No walls here, pet. Gotta take you on the sand," he gruffs in her ear, cock hard and ready from her tight little breaths. He could bet half his money that she's wetter than November down there. He could drag his cockhead across her cunt and the sound would be divine.

"Simon–"

"I'll light a cig first."

"Stop teasing," she laughs, voice thick with hunger.

"...Roger that."

His hand is on his belt before he knows it. It's pathetic how much patience he has if he needs to crouch in a downpour and wait for a kill, but at the sight and smell and taste of her, he can't stop himself from wrenching his belt and pants open like a starved dog. It's a rush born of fear - that any time could be the last time.

She seems to shiver from his stare only when she lays herself upon the warm sand, naked as can be. She's like a vision on that beach: leaning on her elbows, thighs slowly parting, revealing the glistening sex between her legs. And she's fucking dripping, like an overripe peach. He could've safely bet all his money on her.

"How do you want me?"

Fucking fuck…

He's walking in a dream: the most beautiful woman in the world is lying naked before his feet, bathing in gold, asking how he would prefer to take her. He doesn't even bother to get out of his clothes; he merely tugs his pants down and crawls between her legs, relishing the tight gasp he gets from being so crude.

Her eyes grow wide at the sight of him there, so close to her core, cock hanging heavy just an inch away from that tight cunt. She tries so hard to look composed while lying under his shadow, to not make it obvious that she wants that ugly thing inside. And it does feel like sin not to spread those legs and plough right in, especially when his fingers meet her silk and find that she's already throbbing.

"Want you just like this, pet," he rasps while dragging the pad of his thumb around her clit. Her back arches on the sand, forcing his fingers deeper into the dripping fruit.

It's different, her wetness; not thick and halfway there, but flowing, leaking, soaking good. The pussy is so glazed that he slips at the first attempt to slide a finger in. Her walls grip him the second he's seated deep, making it known how much she appreciates it that he's not here just for sex.

"Someone's greedy," he's breathing rough, and she whines – he only gets to two fingers before she demands him to fuck her already.

"Want your–I need your cock…"

She's begging, poor thing, almost crying on the sand, and he has no fucking choice but to remove his fingers and grab his cock instead.

"Have to go slow, love."

"Riley–for god's sake, now."

"F' fuck's sake…" He stumbles forward, all but gracefully, forces the tip on her soaked cunt as delicately as he can before pushing right in. She cries from the spread, fingers curling in the sand: a futile attempt to take him in without fainting.

"Tried to warn ya–"

"Don't you dare stop," she gasps, eyes full of love. As always, her wish is his command, and the tightness makes it an endless journey to bliss. The basest parts of him think about dying – having a heart attack on the same beach he almost drowned in, about ceasing to exist just for the sake of knowing that nothing is as good as this.

He's deep as can fucking be, and it's still not enough – it's never enough. He collects her in his arms with a frustrated grunt, cock giving a tight pull only when she's finally safe and snug in his embrace. It's a tight cuddle that leaves them both breathless.

"Hold me tighter..."

It's a soft order, but he can't get any closer: chest plastered on her skin and balls pressed against her ass, the sand grinding against her back as he makes love to her. She’s not made of twigs, but he’s far bigger than her, already threatening to crush her with his weight.

"Tighter…" she begs on his lips, tries to pull him closer with her whole being.

"Pet, I don't want to hurt you."

"You won't," she sings, completely shieldless. Something warns him of danger, a reset far worse than drowning or being buried alive or shooting himself in a lonely apartment. He tries to calm her down with a kiss: he knows she loves kisses - but there are tears in her eyes, and his heart is hammering, hammering…

"Simon, do you love me…?"

She asks that question right on his lips, and the first thing in his dog mind is that it's a stupid thing to ask when he's balls deep inside her and still trying to get closer.

"Yeah," he almost chokes on it, knowing it could be their wedding day and he would still choke on it because it doesn't taste like salt or metal or grave.

"I love you," she whispers. "Do you understand?"

No. No…

I fuckin' don't–

"And I'll always be here for you."

To his shock, there’s no sea water in his lungs, no dirt in his mouth. He’s not choking on anything, he's not in fact dying at all: he’s floating, somewhere between the sun and the sand and the sea. There's no more rush, no jaws of death snapping at his heels. He doesn't even long for heaven anymore. Not when there's a paradise on earth.

"Love, I need you to–need you to focus," he tries to stutter nonsense while she's pledging herself to him. Of course she only laughs at him: it hits him with the sweetest warmth.

"You're so silly…"

"Yeah? I know."

He's laughing too. It's just a few notes that get taken away by the sound of waves. It's just a breath from deep within, and still… Her gaze drops to his mouth, a flutter blinks back more tears.

"I love it when you laugh..." Her eyes shine brighter than the sun, riding the spine of the sea as one perfect tear rolls down her cheek. "Love it…"

The sun sets in tangerine, his new favourite colour. There's a whole bloom out there in the sky when she comes, fast and bright in his embrace. He comes right after, just from trying to stay inside her warmth, deep inside her, around her, and she says it, again and again and again… Until he breathes.

….….….

"Remember when I said I could've managed? Without you," she asks when they lie on the sand, skin on skin, watching the sun set beneath the onyx sea. The waves rise and break, but around them, the air is still. He's still inside her as she pulls his hand over her heart, entwining their fingers together: it's the softest little arrest, but her squeeze doesn't lack strength.

"I lied too."

"I know."

She chuckles softly. "Is there something you don't know?"

"...Yeah. Why you're here out of all places."

She turns her head from the sunset into the falling darkness of him, and he wonders if that's why she's here... To be with his night. She said that people always get the dark wrong: that it's not supposed to be scary at all. That the purpose of darkness is safety, security, that there are tales where the day chases the night, and the night chases the day. She said it's because they're in love with each other.

"You really don't know…?"

"You were smiling before we met and now you're crying all the time."

She looks up at him with trust and devotion, his daylight, his sun. There's none in the sky anymore, but it doesn't matter. It lives in her eyes.

"People cry from happiness too, Simon."

#ghost x reader #ghost x you #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley #ghost x female reader #ghost smut #simon riley smut #simon riley fluff #cod fanfic

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kusuwu · 8 months

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# sfw saiki head canons a/n: first post, requests and anons welcome!

purposely hiding your treasured items in places you will never find them because he knows you will seek him for help.

"kusuo...?" you greet him on the phone in a hushed whisper, embarrassed to be calling him again so soon. you're both aware that all you need to do to get his attention is simply call out to him in your head, but you'd rather do it the old fashioned way (and he liked appearing busy to the people around him so no one would bother him, even though he continues to speak to you via telepathy.)

he just grins to himself, knowing exactly what you needed and why you did. he took your small, soft blanket you've had since you were a child and hid it on mars.

after hearing your explanation he can't help but scrunch up his nose so he doesn't laugh out loud. "of course i'll find your blankie for you," he speaks in his usual monotone voice, one that made you feel uneasy at times like these because you felt like you were bothering him, but he’s really amused that this same old trick had worked yet again.

uses your own thoughts against you, mocking you in a condescending tone whenever he senses the slightest twinge of affection in your heart for him.

saiki's dark pink eyebrows raised as your thoughts filled his head; he looks so handsome today, why am i getting so nervous all of a sudden? we're just friends.

at this point he felt close enough to you to speak out loud when he knew you two were alone, so it didn't surprise him when you let out a surprised gasp when he spoke into your mind.

"you know i can hear you, y/n, right?" he asked, his expression bored as he pretended to watch whatever was playing on the television.

he'll press his chest against your back whenever he wants your attention, especially in public. (will swear to protect you if one of his crazed admirers spot the two of you, overcome with anger and envy.)

depending on how desperate he is, kusuo will either huff dramatically, like a dog wanting to be pet, or even start playfully biting your shoulder.

will go to you on the rare days his powers go past his limit, his telepathy going haywire and forcing him to listen to the thoughts of thousands of people within the entire city. he finds comfort in your warm clothes and gentle heart beat as he desperately clings onto you — you well aware of how much he detests physical contact, so you just let him do whatever made him feel more at ease.

saiki let out a small whimper, his face turning into one of turmoil as his head roars of a crashing sea of thoughts of others. at first he simply leaned his head onto your shoulder, signalling that something was wrong and that he craved your comforting embrace, but when you wrongfully ignored the small act, he couldn't help himself from cuddling into you completely.

he let out a quiet breath as you reassured him that he was okay and that it would soon pass, your voice like an anchor, grounding him in the present moment.

the psychic nuzzled his head of pink hair into your chest, basking in your scent as the smallest things about you made the voices in his head quieter.

he will never hesitate to teleport to you when he can feel your discomfort or sadness, purposely acting out or being silly in an attempt at cheering you up. of course, when you ask why he's being so weird he'll just say he was hyper from all the coffee jelly he's had that morning.

knows your mind inside and out, taking note of your favorite things and surprising you with them later on.

if you beg him enough he’ll shape shift into your favorite animal, and might even let you pet him (which he ends up falling in love with; your gentle hands rubbing into his soft fur, or petting his head while you praise him endlessly.)

secretly being his safe space, his quiet demeanor creating a comfortable atmosphere where the two of you can just sit in silence together and enjoy each other’s presence.

#kusuwrites #saiki k x reader #saiki x reader #saiki k fluff #saiki fluff #kusuo saiki x reader #kusuo x reader #kusuo saiki fluff #kusuo fluff

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azsazz · 6 months

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Cherries, Juniper, and Orange Slices

Daddy!Eris x Reader

Summary: This one is a req from @acourtofmenandthirst: Eris' daughter drawing his scars on her doll.

Warnings: Mentions of scars.

Word Count: 1,639

_________________________________________

Eris peeks his head into the room, amber eyes drifting towards the cot his son, Rook, is currently crying in. The young boy, hardly a year old, has an iron grip on the bars caging him inside the intricately carved wood of his bed. Thick vines and leaves cut into the dark lumber, choked by his little fingers.

Tears stream down Rook's chubby cheeks and Eris coos, pushing into the room. Sunlight creeps in through the light linen curtains. The stained glass creation hung in the window casts colorful shadows across the creamy yellow of the walls.

“My poor son,” Eris huffs dramatically, lifting Rook from his cradle. He’s clothed in only his nappy, reaching up to cling onto his father’s pressed shirt as if he’ll never let go again.

Eris hopes he doesn’t. His children are growing up much too fast.

Rook sniffles, resting his head in the crook of Eris’ neck, and hiccups. Eris pats soothing motions into his son's bare skin, peppering his freckled cheeks with loving kisses as he calms his youngest child down. He rocks the little boy, waltzing up to the big windows and pushes the curtains open, letting the afternoon sun shine in full force. The room overlooks the small orchard in the back of his quaint home. Trees he’s planted himself with help from you and your daughters, an important tradition to your family.

It started on your first date. Eris had already known you were the one—love at first sight—and kept his home away from home a secret from his family, only using it to escape Beron’s throes when he really needed it. Briar, he named it. He had cooked you a hearty meal with the most expensive, luxurious wine he could find, and after a delightful dinner, he’d walked you through the nearly empty rolling hills behind his home, hand-in-hand.

You’d commented how the fields needed more trees and had gushed on and on about what he could do with the space. His shadow hounds had run by your feet, chasing each other through the ankle-high grasses, and he’d immediately taken you to his mount and settled you in front of him, taking the both of you into town to purchase some seeds.

It has been tradition ever since. Birthdays, anniversaries, births, deaths, any and all celebrations the both of you would go into the yard and plant a tree. Maude loves her cherry trees with all her heart, and Eris is convinced the only reason his daughter ventures outside is to pluck the fruit off the trees and stuff herself silly, stumbling back into the house with stained fingers and lips.

A juniper tree for his other daughter, Juniper. This one was harder to acquire, but thriving well in the backyard, closest to the home. June doesn’t seem to understand the value of the tree yet, but someday, Eris knows that she will.

And a sweet orange tree for his little boy Rook. It had been one of your cravings when you were pregnant with him, and to plant the tree only seemed fitting. Rook devoured any little orange bits he was given with the biggest smile on his face.

He makes a grabby hand for the tree, smart enough to know where his favorite treats are from.

“You hungry, little man?” Eris asks, and Rook babbles in response. He lifts his son, blowing raspberries on his bare stomach that has cheerful giggles bursting through the room. Rook’s auburn eyes shine up at his father, laughing only harder when Eris catches a whiff of his nappy, grimacing. “Alright baby, let’s get you all cleaned up first.”

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•

“Why is our son naked?” you muse, allowing Eris to press a kiss to your cheek while you scoop the last of the cookie dough onto the tray. Your mate and daughters had been helping you, but the girls had been more interested in eating the batter their father kept sneaking them, so you shooed them away to play with their dolls while the cookies baked and you patted Eris on the butt as he went to check on Rook.

Your son keens, pressing his own open mouthed kiss to your cheek. It’s all slobber and suction, but you can’t help the beaming smile that splits your cheeks anyway.

“Because he keeps burning them off, Fawn,” Eris answers you, nose wrinkling as he turns to the babe, “Isn’t that right buddy?”

Rook screeches in excitement as his father tickles his stomach. It isn’t abnormal for your son’s power to be flaring up with his emotions. You’d gone through similar situations with Maude and Juniper around this age as well. You still have the burn marks of waddling feet branded into the wood to prove it.

Placing the tray of cookies into the oven, you reach out to take Rook from your mate. “Such a little stinker,” you tease, bopping your youngest on the nose. He retaliates by grabbing a fistful of your hair and you curse mentally, knowing you should’ve tied it out of his reach.

“Where are the girls?” Eris asks, peeking around the kitchen for any leftover cookie dough. In his mission to steal as much as he could for his daughters, he’d forgotten to sneak a taste for himself. The mixing bowl sits soapy in the sink and he deflates a little.

“Coloring in the den,” you answer, eyes twinkling. Your stomach swoops still at the sight of Eris, even more so whenever he interacts with his children. You knew he was loving, but seeing him like this, completely at ease with no worries tightening his shoulders, he looks ethereal. “Why don’t you get them washed up for some cookies?”

“Yes, please,” Eris says, stealing a kiss from you. Rook squeals and you swoon.

Leaving Rook with you, Eris takes off into the next room. He finds Maude and Juniper spread out on the floor, their coloring supplies strewn about. Thylix and Codon, two of his hounds, laze around both girls, having taken it upon themselves to become their guards. They hardly leave his daughters alone, often choosing to sleep beside their beds at night, though Eris knows his daughters let them jump into bed with them as soon as the door shuts behind him.

“What are my baby girls drawing in here?” Eris asks, tiptoeing forward. They startle and the hounds’ ears perk up at the sound of their master, but they don’t move. His daughters look up at him with those big, round russet eyes, and Eris knows immediately that they’re doing something they shouldn’t be.

“Daddy,” Maude pouts, hiding something in front of her. Eris’ brows furrow as he wonders what she’s keeping from him, but her younger sister, Juniper, holds her doll up in the air, proudly.

“Daddy!” June yells, pushing up onto wobbly legs and racing towards him. Eris scoops her up and she squeals, bringing her doll with her, showing off her artwork to her father. Marker streaks across the face of her plaything, reds, oranges, and pinks adorning the cheeks and dress, across the doll’s eye.

“What’s this, Junie?” Eris asks, admiring her artistic abilities. There’s potential, but if she’s going to continue her artistic streak, he better get her something more appropriate to color on. Maybe sign her up for one of the local—or Night Court—art classes.

“It’s Daddy,” she answers, beaming up at her father. His heart swells, but he doesn't seem to be comprehending what Juniper is trying to convey.

He looks around his middle daughter to his oldest, still in her spot on the ground. Her cheeks are pinked with a blush and she’s pouting at her little sister for ruining the surprise.

“Care to explain, Maude?” Eris asks, though he’s not really sure if he wants the answer.

She sighs, shoving up to her feet. She holds up her doll in front of her face like she’s going to get in trouble for what she’s done, but Eris doesn’t understand why.

Until Maude explains. “We drew your scars on our dollies,” she says, and it all clicks. The one across his cheekbone from when Beron has nicked him purposefully with the edge of his sword before he set foot into his first war. His father had said the scar would help him relate to his legion the more roughed up he looked.

Another, peeking out from the strap of the doll's dress, right above her heart. It’s a rendition of the brand on his chest, another gift from his father. He tries not to let his children see his scars, especially that one in particular, but she must’ve seen it when she’d crawled into your bed after a nightmare perhaps.

Eris’ eyes prickle but he blinks the emotion away. His throat is thick, and he distracts himself by taking a second look at Juniper's toy. Upon catching her fathers gaze on the doll, Maude speaks again. “Junie drew Uncle Lulu’s eye scars on hers. I told her we were supposed to be drawing only yours, but she didn’t listen,” Maude huffs a little, annoyed that her younger sister didn’t follow her direction.

“That’s…that’s very thoughtful, Junie,” Eris places a chaste kiss on her forehead and she grins. “You both did such a wonderful job.”

“You’re not…mad?” Maude asks, staring up at him nervously.

Juniper kicks her legs, trying to escape Eris’ grip. He lets her down and she abandons her doll, racing for the kitchen where she can hear you talking to her brother.

Eris kneels, taking Maude’s hand in his and tugging her into his chest for a hug. “No, Maude, I’m not upset. I’m impressed.”

“You really like it?” she asks shyly, pulling back so she can look him in the eyes.

Eris nods once, firmly. “I love it, Maude. You made me look perfect.”

#eris vanserra x reader #eris vanserra #daddy!eris #azsazz next gen #acotar #azsazz #acomaf #acowar #eris #domestic eris

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writingoddess1125 · 7 months

Note

loving reading Buggy's saga with his children, but I confess that I felt sorry for his balls being crushed in the last post😭

please help our dear Buggy recover from this illness 🥹

Of course sweety! 🍭 we shall cure the Muggy Buggy Balls!

Fever pt. 1

Buggy x FemReader + Buggy Twins

Old Men Series Masterlist

Wanna buy me some cup noodles? 🍜

After what was deemed the Nutcracker Arc, Buggy had been down a bit- He had wanted to have more children with you eventually but after the doctor saw the damage from the wooden sword and apparently damage from a previous incident that Buggy still refused to tell you about- The doctor essentially said his nuts were done for.

"I wanted daughters so bad..." He groaned into the pillows, still in his pouting faze as you sat next to him rubbing his back. It had been 2 weeks since Dee had taken the wooden sword to poor Buggys balls.

"I know honey.." You say softly, trying to comfort the man. Truthfully you had seen the damage and had a fairly confident feeling he was done with any baby making- Buggy was knife proof but not blunt force trauma.

"Hey it won't be that bad Buggy, You have two beautiful sons who will carry your legacy and besides we are heading to the island for the rest of our '60 day' vacation" You say softly, at this point the 60 days were no better then a joke- it had already been well over a month on the ship and with Buggy, you two just used the '60 days' as a way to tease one another over how silly it was. And an excuse for a vacation.

Buggy looked up st you, his makeup smeared on his face and he sighed in defeat. Nodding in agreement at this point.

"Yeah Yeah- Two destructive boys with devil fruit powers on an island unsupervised, What can do wrong" He said as he leaned his head against you his arm wrapping around your waist.

"Why would they be unsupervised?" You question with a raised brow, Buggy looking at you with a crooked grin.

"Well we will be busy of course" He says in a flirtatious manner- You playfully shoving his face away while blushing making both of you laugh.

"Land Ho!" A loud voice sounded through the ship, Snapping both of you from your thoughts as you your giggles.

Buggy getting up and offering a hand to you with a smile.

"Ready?" He asked, you could t help but feel your heart flutter at this. Grabbing his gloved hand and nodding, heading upstairs you saw the coming shores of land.

"Look!" Dee yelled from the crows nest, that being were he preferred to stay it seemed- Bee jumping around on deck like the hyperactive child he was.

There was a lush island that was filled with beautiful forest and a small village nestled there. It didn't take long for you all to dock at the island- Buggy happily escorting you and the boys through it.

The island he had picked was absolutely lovely, it was like a strip of paradise tucked nearly in the corner of the East Blue, a small village on the north side of the island and on the southern side was were Buggy had claimed for himself. It seemed Buggy was well Acquainted with the place as well since the locals were familiar with the crew and held no real fear of Buggy either.

"Wow! It's so big!-" Bee cheered loudly at seeing the Island, Dee nodding in agreement as they looked at the village.

"Hehe that's what your mo-" "Medium" You deadpanned, immediately taking the wind from Buggy's sails as he pouted at you taking his joke away.

"Here" Buggy said reaching in his pockets, handing the twins some change and telling them to explore the island and giving them the key to the Inn room they were in.

"This island is you're to explore, Just don't be stupid and go into the water" He said with a grin, the Twins smiling in delight at this before rushing off with their new found freedom.

"Buggy are you sure?-" You question as you watched them run away cackling like little demons.

"This place is totally safe- Besides I'm sure they are just gonna raid the candy shop anyway" You couldn't disagree with his decision and nodded.

Buggy excitedly lead you to the inn you all would be staying in while the details to the cabin was set in. It was a small tradional inn and had a hot spring attached, truthfully you thought it was quite adorable but beautiful non the less. Taking a seat on the massive futon bed you smiled at your Partner.

"I gotta admit, you did a really good job Buggy" You say earning a wide smile from the Clown Pirate.

Buggy was clearly proud of his choices, the praises from you and boys definitely fanning his ego. Especially since you didn't disagree with him that this was a terrific spot or that the inn was quite beautiful.

"I'm going to check how long till the cabin is complete-" He said with a grin kissing your lips before leaving.

The boys were out exploring the island, Buggy was checking on the cabin. You had the room to yourself? Oh how the stars aligned- jumping up you quickly grab a bottle of wine and open the back sliding door to see the amazing hot spring in the back. This was heaven-

Buggy returned after an hour, having picked up some dinner for the two of you to try and have a date night in- He knew he was still new to the whole romance thing but he was trying, aka using books to figure out.

"Hey (Y/N) yhe Cabin will be completed in a few days" Buggy said calmly, walking into the room expected you there- But was met with silence, raising a brow he walked in the room fully and opened the back sliding door that lead to the private hotspring.

That's when his world froze- There you were standing in the hotspring, it looks like you were grabbing a cool rag for yourself and just bend in the perfect angle to see everything.

You turned quickly hearing the noise of the door opening and saw Buggy there with his eyes as wide as saucers and clearly very pleased to see you. Not even having to say anything you turn and face him fully.

When the house was finished you and your small family all moved in. Buggy talking about this would be a safe house for you and kids anytime after the '60 days' or if you wished to just move here and he would return regularly.

Blushing as you stood in the hot water, Buggy catching the look in your eyes starting to strip and sliding into the water after you. His eyes never leaving yours as he closed the space between you two in moments- his hands wrapping around your waist quickly as you two smiled at each other.

It seemed Buggy was right, you and him would be busy.

Truthfully it was pure domestic bliss.

And it was this way- For a little over a month till one morning. You woke up and everything just seemed terrible, The bed made your back hurt, the lights were too bright, the twins already up and too loud.

You heard Buggy trying to talk to you excitedly but his voice was muffled and difficult to understand. Truthfully you didn't even remember making it to the kitchen and making yourself a cup of tea-

It was like you blinked and you were there, the boys chattering loudly as Buggy tried to get them to sit the fuck down as well as telling you something you didn't understand. You felt a hand finally touch your head, seeing Buggy in a different shirt and the twins gone... how long had you dozed off for?

"You look flushed-" Buggy muttered, his eyebrows crunching up as he got way too close to your face. You didn't know why but his face seemed to irritate you, or was it the smell of the apple shampoo? Or possibly-

"BLECH!" You vomited, right on the front of Buggys shirt.

Buggy's face turned red, like he was going to yell but held back and took a breath. See how you had been out of it most of the morning and fairly unresponsive despite him asking repeatedly if you were okay.

"Let's get you to the doctors.."

He said finally, Sighing as he peeled off the shirt and helping you up.

It was a short trip to the doctor in the village, Buggy being too loud in demanding you be seen right away- You wanted to choke him..

In a few minutes the doctor arrived and gave you a routine check-up, You sitting their while Buggy talked some more about random stuff as the Doctor stood back with a surprised smile on his face.

"I see what's going on-" The doctor said with a smile, both you and Buggy staring at the doctor as he set his tools to the side.

"Congratulations! You're pregnant" He said with a joyous voice- you and Buggy freezing at this.

"W-What but- I thought I was done for!?" Buggy said first as he pointed to his pants- The doctor shrugging at this.

"Well it sees you still gad a chance, but a chance non the less- If you keep trying eventually something can take root" The doctor admitted calmly. You sitting thinking back to different moments in your life... mainly your labor with the twins... 36 hours for both.. the diapers and all that 'fun'.

"How far?.." You manage out, still feeling shell shocked at this news.

"Hm I'd say 5 weeks along give or take?-" the doctor said calmly as he tapped his chin.

You both looked at each other, the thoughts swirling in your guys head as it clicked. 5 weeks is when you guys arrived at the island and..

"The Inn Hotspring-"

You guys said in unison. Buggy staring at you in total shock like the puzzle peices were still formulating in his brain- before he broke out in a wide smile, started loudly cheering and jumping.

"YOURE PREGNANT HAHAHA!"

You sitting there in shock as your partner jumped around the room... did 60 days just turn into 9 dog damn months?

#x reader #one peice x reader #one piece #one peice live action #buggy one piece #buggy the clown x reader #buggy x reader

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harlowsbby · 2 months

Text

Will U? 💘

“Will you be my Valentine?” He sighed and shook his head. “Will you do me the honor of being my Valentine this year?” He groaned and moaned once again.

“What is he doing?” Ace asked Drama as the two of them sat from afar watching Jack. “I think he’s practicing for when he ask Y/N to be his Valentine.” Drama said.

“But aren’t they already dating?” Ace said. “Yeah but you know Jack he’s a bit extra.” He said.

Even though Jack and You were already dating and have been a couple for two years now you still loved the thought of being asked to be his Valentine. Earlier that day Jack had overheard you talking on the phone to your friends.

You had mentioned how you’d wish Jack would ask you to be his Valentine even if the two of you were already dating you just thought it would be cute.

Flashback.

“I just feel like it’ll be cute you know? I walk into the house and he’s there with a poster board or something holding flowers and he ask me to be his valentine.” You romanticized.

“You’re so silly you know that.” Annie laughed. “Like you’re both dating already why would he do all of that?” Jackie said.

“Because it’ll be cute but I know he won’t so I’m not even going to worry about it.” You told them and all three of you started talking about something else.

Jack frowned a bit as he heard a bit of disappointment in your voice he knew right then and there that he needed to make this Valentine’s eventful.

Flashback over.

“Okay so who ordered the dozen of roses and this big ass teddy bear and these chocolates?” Urban said as he came into the studio.

“Yeah and these balloons.” Neelam added on. “I did these are all for Y/N.” Jack said.

He called you a few minutes ago asking for you to come down to the studio he didn’t exactly say way but you didn’t question it. He had gotten red letter balloons that spelt out ‘will you be my valentine?’ Along with roses and chocolates and a teddy bear that was bigger than him.

“You’re going to ask her to be your Valentine? Why do that when you’re both already dating I thought it was like obvious she was your Valentine this year?” Urban laughed.

“I mean yeah but I heard her talking to her friends earlier about how she’d love for me to do this so here I am.” Jack said.

“But I don’t want to be rude but I need all of you to leave the studio because she’s about to be here.” He quickly rushed them out of the room before they were able to say anything else.

He set up the balloons and thanked the heavens that they all fit and put the flowers and chocolates and teddy bear on the studio couch.

Once he was done he had gotten a text from you stating that you had just arrived. When you made your way inside the studio his security escorted you to the studio.

“Jack?” You called out and opened the studio door.

“Jack? Are you in here?” Once you finally opened up the door all the way you were taken back by the balloons and everything else. “Hey baby.” Jack smiled wide upon seeing you.

“What’s all of this?” You turned to look at him with slight tears threatening to spill. “It’s all for you I heard you earlier talking to your friends.”

“You heard all of that?” You instantly felt bad the last thing you wanted to do was to make him feel like he was being forced into doing something.

“I did but it’s okay don’t worry baby but I did want to ask you a question.” He said and you smiled. “What’s your question?” You asked even though you knew his answer.

“Will you be my Valentine?” He asked you. “Of course I’ll be your Valentine.” You smiled.

Jack cheered and picked you up and began to spin you around the two of you laughing like hyenas. “Jack! Okay put me down.” You giggled.

“I love you.” He said when he finally put you back down. “I love you too Jack.”

#jack harlow #jack harlow concepts #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow x y/n #jack harlow x you

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arlana-likes-to-write · 8 months

Text

I Do

Part 2 of Marry Me

Summary: It's your wedding day and as you are getting ready you can't help but remember how you got to this point. But sometimes even on the happiest days, anxiety can be the biggest enemy.

Note: italicized sections are flashbacks

Warning: Angst with Fluff, dirty talk, almost office sex but getting caught, mention of death, toxic past relationships, panic attacks, drinking

Word count: 8.8k

“I can’t believe you're getting married!” Tony exclaimed probably for the hundredth time during this whole process. “I’m more nervous than I was for Vision’s wedding,” you fought the urge to roll your eyes as you sat in front of the makeup artist. You felt bad for the poor woman who had to endure your family’s antics.

“Honey, have a drink,” Maria pushed a glass of whiskey into Tony’s hand. “You are going to stress out the bride.” You weren’t stressed. You were 100% content and ready to marry the woman of your dreams. All you had to do was get through a silly little ceremony and it would be official. You told Yelena that you would settle for getting married in a courtroom but she wanted a wedding. So you gave her a wedding.

“You look like the day you told me you had a crush on her,” Howard said, coming from the balcony with a cigar in his mouth. “All flustered and nervous. If I knew any better I’d say you were getting married.” You chuckled slightly at the light blush creeping up Tony’s face.

“Well then I learned that she was gay,” he pointed at you. “You were my first heartbreak.” You chuckled.

“I think you did well for yourself,” you smiled.

“Damn, right he did!” Pepper said and your bridal party cheered. This was the only thing you cared about, having your family together. Well, not everyone. Damn, you missed your parents.

God, you had to have a long talk with Natasha about your last drink. Your head was throbbing. At least the newlyweds had the forethought to book a place with continental breakfast so everyone could nurse their hangovers. “Someone got laid last night,” Tony said, slamming down a cup of coffee and sitting in the chair next to you. The sound echoed in your head.

“Fuck Stark,” you groaned. “Why are you always so loud?” He chuckled at your expense. The man was never hungover, it was annoying.

“So are you going to tell me who it was?” He took a piece of toast off your plate. “Because I’m all your boss so I will find out,” you kept your mouth shut, sipping on your coffee. “I bet it was with Carol. She eyefucks you at every gala,” you smirked. You knew the former Air Force pilot was with Val, maybe they were looking for a third. “Monica is attractive, was it her? Please don’t tell me you joined Romanoff and Barnes.”

“Shut up,” you laughed. You sighed. “Fine I’ll tell you but you have to keep it quiet. Can you do that?” He nodded. You glared at him.

“Scouts honor. Now come on tell me,” he whined. You smiled, biting your lip as you remembered lasted night.

“It was Yelena,” Tony stared at you, mouth slightly open, and blinked a few times at you.

“Romanoff is going to kill you,” he deadpanned. “At least leave me something nice in your will.” You rolled your eyes, smacking the man slightly on the chest.

“She knows,” his face scrunched in disgust. “Oh my god, ew, not like that,” Laughing pulled your attention away from Tony and you watched as Yelena walked into the dining room with Kate and America. She was still wearing the long-sleeved shirt that you let her burrow. It made you smile. Tony hit your leg. “Sorry,” you snapped out of it. “Natasha gave her stamp of approval for me to pursue a relationship with her.”

“Why did you make it sound like a business proposition?” He asked. You huffed out a sigh, crossing your arms. “I’m kidding,” he laughed. “She’s the one that has put a smile back on your face,” you nodded. Yelena sat down at a table with her sister and her green eyes found yours, a playful smirk on her lips. You wanted to go over and kiss her again. “Well, I’m glad she’s making you happy.”

“Yeah, she is.”

Maria and Howard asked you to join them when your hair and makeup were done. It was a light look as you didn’t wear makeup in your normal day-to-day life. So you stood with them on the balcony that overlooked the winery. “You are making me kind of nervous,” you chuckled. It reminded you of when you and Tony ‘burrowed’ Howard’s 1960 red Mustang. He wasn’t happy.

“There is nothing to worry about, sweetheart,” Maria said, sitting down at the small patio set. Her husband remained standing behind her. You sat down in front of her.

“We have a small gift for you,” you groaned. “Hey, lose the attitude squirt,” You fought the couple tooth and nail during this process. They wanted to help pay for the wedding or gift you something extravagant, but you declined both.

“It’s tradition for the bride to have something old, new, burrowed, and blue on their wedding day,” Maria explained. You and Yelena weren’t having a traditional American wedding with her being Russian and both members of the LGBTQ community but there were some things you were doing. You weren’t seeing each other until Yelena walked down the aisle, Yelena would be throwing her bouquet (you were hopping Natasha would catch it), and you had two flower girls (Lila and Morgan), and Nate and Cooper were your ring bearers.

“For your something burrowed,” Howard took off his cufflinks and handed them to you. “I expect those back in perfect condition.” he teased. You rolled your eyes but took them.

“For your something old,” Maria handed you a pin. “And it counts for your blue.” It was a blue jay pin that your mother gave her. She never took it off. You felt tears form in your eyes. “So they can be there with you while you walk down the aisle.”

“Your father gave me those,” Howard added. You choose Howard and Maria to walk you down the aisle in place of your parents. “They would be proud of you, kid,” you cleared your throat, trying to push down your emotions not wanting to ruin your makeup.

“Thank you,” you whispered. “Both you. I wouldn’t be here without you.”

“It has been a pleasure to watch you grow up,” Maria stood up and kissed the top of your head. “Here is something new,” she pulled out a small box and a letter. “From your soon-to-be wife. We’ll let you open it in private.” You thanked the couple and they returned to the suite as you opened the box. Inside was a new pair of earrings. They were simple golden studs with a small diamond. You smiled and put them in, now you understood why Pepper told you not to wear earrings. You opened the letter.

‘Darling, There are so many things I wish to write in this letter but I’ll keep it brief and save it for my vows. I can't wait to spend the rest of our lives together. As for the earrings, Maria told me a story of a family vacation you took with the Starks around the time of your parent's passing to Cape Code. You wore a pair of earrings that your mother gave you into the ocean and unfortunately lost them. I know these won’t be able to replace the ones you lost. But I hope they provide you with a sense of comfort along with the mementos Maria and Howard gave you. I love you and see you soon.’

You reread the letter a few more times before folding it nicely. You fiddled with the earrings. You were a mess that trip even more so when you lost your earrings. You missed them so deeply and you wished they were here with you.

“Are you sure they want me here?” Yelena asked, anxiously twisting the rings on her fingers. You were sitting in the driveway of the Stark Family Home. It was Maria’s birthday. Tonight was the small gathering for family and a few close friends and tomorrow was the bigger party. The Starks never needed a reason to party. You took her hand in yours, bringing it to your lips.

“They asked for you specifically,” it was true. When you told Tony about your new relationship, he couldn’t wait to tell his parents. They’ve met the blonde but you knew it was at a work event when you were introducing the new group of entrepreneurs. It was different now. She was just another Stark employee now she was a Stark employee and your girlfriend. “If you don’t want to go we can turn around and we can hang out at my place.” Yelena shook her head.

“Is Wanda going to be there?” You sighed.

“Yes,” the blonde tensed up. “But I don’t care about her. I’m with you and she made her choice.” You haven’t run into your ex-girlfriend since her wedding and your new relationship with Yelena. But you knew she knew. Vision seemed quite interested in your relationship, especially with how it would affect the workplace. It wasn’t a coincidence that an email from HR was in your inbox regarding relationships with coworkers.

“Alright, let’s do this,” you turned off the car and walked over to Yelena’s side to open the door for her. “My knight in shining armor,” she said, kissing your cheek. She had the small gift bag in her hand, that you knew Maria was going to be livid about. You held onto her hand as you led her up to the massive doorway. “I sometimes forget how much money the Starks have,” Yelena mumbled, looking at the house. “Tony is so..”

“Stupid, cocky, a pain in my ass,” the blonde laughed, pinching your sides. “Ouch, rude.”

“Don’t talk about our boss like that,” she teased. You rolled your eyes, ringing the doorbell.

“He was a brother to me long before he was chairman of Stark Industries.” It wasn’t long before the door swung open.

“There she is!” Howard said, pulling you in a hug. Your hand was ripped out of Yelena’s hold. “I guess you only come around when you know we’ll have food.” He teased.

“Let me go, old man,” you pushed him off of you as he messed with your hair.

“You did not just call me old,” he gasped. You stepped into the house and Yelena closed the door behind you. “It ain’t my birthday, sweet cheeks.”

“I’m telling your wife you said,” you smiled, fixing your hair and polo. “Howard, I would like to introduce you to my girlfriend, Yelena-”

“Yelena Belova,” the man cut you off, extending his hand for her to shake. “I know all about you. You are the reason Stark Industries is branching overseas to work with the Wakandans,” Yelena shook his hand. You saw the tension leave her body. “It has always been my dream for the company to expand so we can help more people. I’d love to hear all about it.”

“Darling,” you saw Maria walk over. “You promised there would be no talking about work.” She scolded her husband. “Hello, Yelena it’s wonderful to meet you.” The matriarch hugged your girlfriend. Over his wife’s shoulder, Howard mouthed, ‘We’ll talk later.’

“It’s nice to meet you too,” Yelena smiled. “And Happy Birthday.” She handed Maria the gift bag. The woman glared at you but you held up your hands.

“Wasn’t me,” you defended. “That was all her.” You were throwing your girlfriend to the wolves but when it came to Mama Stark it was for the best. Inside were two stained glass blue jays that she could hang in the window.

“Oh, I love them. Thank you,” she hugged your girlfriend again. Your mouth hung open slightly.

“How come when I get you a gift you threaten to kick me out of the will.”

“Hush you,” Maria teased, lopping her arm with Yelena. “Come. Dinner is almost ready so we are having drinks in the sitting room.” Maria dragged Yelena in the direction of the room, leaving you alone with Howard.

“Women,” he said, hitting you with his elbow. “Am I right?” You rolled your eyes.

“You always are,” You grabbed him by the shoulder. “Come on let’s not keep everyone waiting.” When you joined the rest of the guests, Yelena was standing with Tony and Pepper. You excused yourself and joined the trio.

“About time you showed up,” Tony teased, as he leaned closer to you. “Someone has been sending dirty looks to your girlfriend.” You saw Wanda standing with Vision and Bruce, another close friend of the Stark Family. You chuckled.

“Maybe she’s upset I got lucky on her wedding night and she didn’t,” Tony gagged, punching you in the shoulder.

“Children,” Maria warned and Tony mumbled a ‘sorry mom’ under his breath. “Dinner is ready.” The group filled into the dining room, and each person had a personalized name plate to designate where everyone was sitting. You pulled out Yelena’s chair for her.

“Why don’t you do that for me anymore?” Pepper teased as she sat next to you. Tony huffed.

“They are in the honeymoon phase,” he said. “They’ll grow out of it.” You smiled, placing your hand on Yelena’s thigh.

“How are you doing?” You whispered.

“Good,” she smiled. “Really good.”

Once dinner was over, you joined Tony, Vision, and Howard for a glass of whiskey on the balcony. The Elder Stark would pass out cigars but you refused one. It was tradition. You remembered begging your father to join because you wanted to be with him and Tony instead of your mother. You haven’t been on this balcony since you broke up with Wanda. You missed it. Sitting back in your chair, you sipped on your drink and listened to the three Starks talk with one another. Your mind wandered to Yelena. You knew Wanda wouldn’t try to do anything to save face with Maria but you were worried nonetheless. “So,” Howard said, looking at you. Oh boy. “You’ve been oddly quiet. Most nights we can’t get you to shut up.”

“Cool thanks,” you smiled, wrapping your hands around the glass. “I liked listening to you guys talk,” you admitted. “It reminded me of when we were younger and my father was here to join us.” That shifted the conversation and you were grateful until Vision directed it back to you.

“How are you and Miss. Belova?” He asked. You almost choked on your drink.

“We are good,” you smiled. “Just taking it slow and learning more about each other.” You were not giving this man more information to feed to his wife.

“That girl is smart,” Howard praised. “She is going to go far in that company.” Oh, you knew that. She was helping you, Sharon, and Natasha create a branch in California. You were waiting on approval to go ahead with the project.

“Is your relationship affecting your workplace dynamic?” Vision questioned. “You are technically her superior.” Your jaw clenched. You heard Tony shift in his seat, ready to defend you but you held up your hand.

“It has not,” you answered. “If she has any issues, she reports it to Sharon, and then Sharon reports it to me so there is a non-biased party in the middle,” you sat up in your chair. “Now I have a question for you, Viz. Did you have these same levels of concern with Pepper and your brother’s relationship? Or do you just have a problem with it because it’s me?” You smiled. “Excuse me gentlemen but I need a refill.” You stood up and walked back into the house. Walking into the empty kitchen, you dumped your drink in the sink and washed the glass.

“I’m guessing my son said something to upset you.” You chuckled at Maria’s statement.

“He didn’t upset me,” you said. Besides you knew Tony was giving him an earful. “Are you getting a cup of tea? I can make you some.” She nodded and sat down. You began to prepare it. Your mother and Maria were the ones that taught you how to make it. Maria said you could win anyone over with the perfect cup of tea.

“I like her,” Maria broke the silence. You looked at the matriarch. “I like the smile you get when you look at her.” You nodded.

“Yeah, she’s great,” you leaned on the counter as you waited for the water to boil. “Do you think my parents would have liked her?” You asked Maria the same question about Wanda.

“Take my hand,” you did. “As long as you were happy they would have loved whoever you brought home,” the kettle began to whistle. It was the same answer she had given before. You turned around to pour the water into the mug. “But yes, they would have loved her.” That was new. You smiled, loving the warm feeling that covered you.

“Let’s have a toast!” Sarah said, pushing an empty champagne glass in your hand. Laura came up behind her to fill it with a smile.

“She’s been waiting for this moment all day,” you chuckled and thanked the mother of 3. You became close to the Barton Family because of Yelena, you loved going to their house in Iowa. Once everyone had a drink and Lila and Morgan were given apple juice, Tony raised his glass.

“To a beautiful ceremony and a reception we’ll all forget.” You rolled your eyes. Sarah raised her glass next, and you gave her a pointed look to be nice.

“To picking someone that loves you as hard as you love them.” You mouthed a ‘thank you’ to your best friend.

“To looking hot and feeling hot.” Pepper cheered.

“To a long and happy life to the beautiful bride-to-be,” Laura added.

“Cheers!”

It was the Gala of the year, the anniversary of the day Stark Industries was founded. Everyone would be dressed to the nines, the best catering company would be hired and paired with the right drinks. At the end of the night, awards would be given, and there would be dancing, laughing, and sharing stories. Most importantly the press would be there. So much press. Everything had a place and a reason behind it. The type of food, the partners and competitors that were invited, and the way people arrived. It was the biggest headache for those who planned the party but when you stepped out of the car with flashing lights it was worth it. You arrived third to last, in front of Tony and Pepper and Maria and Howard. You rested your hand on Yelena’s thigh. It was the first big event you two were attending as a couple. She was wearing a high slight, dark blue dress with spaghetti straps. You were dressed in a black suit with a dark blue pocket square. Before you left, you gifted your girlfriend a diamond necklace which she was wearing. “Are you excited, sweetheart?” You asked, glancing at her.

“Fuck yeah. I’m ready to eat until I burst and drink alcohol I didn’t pay for,” you rolled your eyes, stopping the car and putting it in the park. A valet attendant would park it for you. You could hear the paparazzi and see the lights from their cameras.

“Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?” Yelena smiled before capturing her lips with yours. It was a slow kiss and she pulled away before you could ruin her makeup. You could kiss her for hours if she let you. Every time you kissed her your stomach flipped.

“About 100 times, darling,” she said.

“Well I’ll tell you 100 more,” you kissed her again. “Let’s go woo the crowd, baby.” You got out first, waving to the crowd before running over to the passenger side. You opened the door and held out your hand. Yelena took it and you helped her out. The camera lights began to go crazy but your eyes were only on your girlfriend. You stared at each other for a moment before heading to the entrance. Then the questions started. ‘Y/n, how long have you been dating Yelena Belova?’ ‘Is this why you pushed so hard for the Wakanda Project?’ ‘Has this affected your working relationship?’ ‘Can you comment on Wanda and Vision’s relationship?’ But you paid no mind to them.

Oh, you remembered the headlines from the first event after your break up with Wanda and she attended it with Vision. ‘Maximoff is after a REAL Stark.’ ‘Y/n loses to the Starks again.’ It was brutal. Maria, the company’s PR, had to put out a lot of fires. You made it your mission to make her job as easy as possible. So you ignored the questions and you had a statement ready to go live tomorrow. You and Yelena stopped for one more picture before entering the venue. You felt a weight lifted off your shoulders, feeling safe within the building. Only selective reporters were allowed during the actual event. “I hate the press,” you mumbled, holding onto Yelena’s hand. She chuckled as her sister and Bucky walked over. The redhead was wearing a floor-length black strapless dress and Bucky wore a suit with his tie red that matched Natasha’s lipstick.

“I see you both made it through alive,” Natasha said.

“Barely,” Yelena teased.

“I don’t know how you deal with them all the time,” Bucky mumbled.

“With a lot of alcohol,” you smiled. “Let’s go drink.”

You were at the founder's table with the Starks plus Wanda, Pepper, Natasha, and Bucky. It was…special to say the least. You kept your hand on Yelena’s thigh while Wanda kept sending daggers your way. It was amazing to see how jealous she was as her new husband ignored her. You noticed Yelena’s drink was getting low as she was in a deep conversation with Pepper. You stood up and took her drink, whispering, ‘I’ll be right back,’ to your girlfriend. Before you could leave the table, Yelena turned to kiss you. You smiled and walked over to the bar. As you waited for the bartender, you heard a set of footsteps approaching you. You knew it was Wanda without having to turn around. You sighed. “What do you want Wanda?” You asked. “You’ve been starring daggers at me all night.”

“I don’t think Yelena is good for you,” She said, standing next to you. You gave yourself whiplash on how fast you turned to look at her, not hiding the shock by her blunt comment. “You both are in different stages of life. You are well established in your career and she’s just getting her footing. It’s not fair to you that she’s using you to get ahead.” Your jaw clenched. Oh, you were so close to losing your cool.

“It’s so nice that Vision looks like a loving and doting husband,” you deadpanned as the bartender put your drinks down. “Oh, I’m sorry I thought were saying things that aren’t true. Stay out of my relationship and I’ll stay out of yours.” As you grew into your career you learned to ignore what people said around you. It was damaging to your mental health to follow every rumor or lie spread about you. Even though your relationship wasn’t out to the public those you worked with knew. They were respectful at face value but you heard their whispers. They questioned the validity of your relationship with Yelena and you were only together to benefit the company or each other. It was ridiculous but your anxiety-induced brain made you question everything. Yelena was so far out of your league, that you wondered why she picked you.

You sat back down with your and Yelena’s drink. “Thank you, dorogoy (sweetheart),” she smiled but frowned suddenly. “What’s wrong?” She asked. You forced a smile and shook your head.

“Nothing,” you said, putting your arm behind her chair. “Don’t worry about it.” Yelena watched as Wanda returned to her seat, you could see the gears turning in her head. “Don’t,” you whispered in her ear and kissed her neck. “She’s not worth it.” She looked at you, her lips were inches from yours.

“Come with me,” she said. You knew there was no room for argument. You both excused yourself from the table as Tony cat-called you both. You fought the urge to flip him off as Yelena dragged you to a hallway. “What did she do?” She asked once you were alone.

“Nothing important,” you said, leaning against the wall. “Nothing that I know that isn’t true,” you looked away from the blonde. She sighed, closing the space, and used her finger to force you to look back at her.

“It’s bothering you. So I want to know how to help,” she smirked. “Or I can go over there and force her to tell me, you know I’ve been looking for a reason to kick her ass,” you chuckled. That would be a sight to see. You hated the idea of keeping stuff from her but you didn’t want to upset her. You sighed.

“She said you aren’t good for me,” you told her. “That you are just using me to advance your career.” Her green eyes went wide.

“You know that isn’t true, right?” She whispered. “I-I would never do that.” Tears began to swell in her eyes.

“Hey,” you brought her in for a hug. “I know you wouldn’t. No tears, okay? Don’t let that bitch ruin your makeup,” she laughed against your chest but you kept her in your arms when she didn’t pull away. “Sometimes,” you continued. “I can’t believe that I get to call you mine. You are so far out of my league that my mind likes to be my biggest enemy.” Yelena looked up at you.

“Have you looked in a mirror, detka (babe)?” She questioned. “Or hear what some of the newer associates say about you or read what the press writes?” You remembered the article that Tony joked about. You were New York City’s most eligible bachelorette for a while. “You have the looks, power, and money, and I’m out of your league.”

“Yes because you see as me and not as a Stark without the last name.”

“And I love you with or without the responsibility that comes with that name.” You stared at her.

“I love you too,” you said without hesitation and captured her lips. Someone coughing broke you both apart. It was Maria.

“As cute and disgusting as this is,” she smirked. “The award ceremony is about to start.” Ugh, that meant it was time for your speech.

“Thank you, Maria,” Yelena smiled. “We’ll be right out,” the brunette left, playfully pointing to her watch. “Ready?” You weren’t. You were dreading to go back to that table. As your girlfriend turned to leave, you pulled her back towards you. “What-?” you kissed her.

“Tell me again,” you whispered against her lips. She looked confused. “Please baby girl,” you pleaded. “Tell me again.” Her confusion disappeared and she smiled.

“I love you,” the blonde said. “I am yours and you are mine.” Your heart fluttered.

“I’m yours.”

“Are you excited?” Pepper asked, helping you put on Howard’s cufflinks. You waited for the click of the camera to go off before answering.

“I am,” you smiled. “I think I’m more excited for the reception than the ceremony.” Another photo. Pepper laughed.

“I was the same way,” she moved behind you to fix your collar and lay your bow tie flat. “I want you to know Yelena has helped you a lot but you’ve done amazing as well.” If Tony was the brother you never had, Pepper was the sister. You smiled. “It wasn’t easy but you opened up your heart again.”

“It was worth it,” you told her. “It was worth all the growing pains and hurdles we went through,” Pepper hummed. “And thank you for being there when I wasn’t. You have a lot on your plate and I’m sorry I added onto it.”

“Never apologize,” she placed your hands on your shoulders. “You are family,” you watched her smile through the mirror. “Now you are wedding ready.” You were wearing a cream three-piece suit. The blue jay pin was attached to your breast pocket and the color of your bow tie matched the sage green of the bridal party. You smiled back at her.

You loved your job. Loved it so much. But there were moments that you hated it. You figured that was common for any job. There was a pile of new hires, project requests, and yearly reviews that needed to be done. It seemed to be never-ending as the company continued to grow. You sighed, rolling your neck to release some of the tension, and got back to work. The hours seemed to keep passing but the piles of paper were never ending. A gentle knock on your office caused you to look up as Yelena walked in. “Hi,” you said. She looked concerned. “Are you okay?”

“Are you?” She countered. “We were supposed to meet at Kumos and you weren’t answering your phone. I was worried,” you glanced at the clock.

“Shit,” you stood up suddenly, knocking against your desk. The lamp rattled from the impact. “I’m so sorry. I lost track of time.” You rushed out. Your hands shook as you began to organize the papers on your desk.

“Hey, it’s okay.” But you shook your head.

“I should have been paying attention to the time,” you said. You felt the panic build in your chest. “I got busy with all this,” you gestured to the mess on your desk. “I’m not creating excuses,” you added on. “I-”

“Dorogoy (sweetheart),” she cut you off, raising her hands to stop you. You flinched from the sudden action. Yelena frowned, the worry evident on her face. “Baby,” she said slowly.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized. You needed to get out of here. Quickly, you ran into the bathroom and closed the door behind you. You locked it and slid down the wall until you hit the ground. It felt like there was a thousand pounds of pressure resting on your chest. Every breath you tried to take got caught in your lungs. Everything felt too small and too big at once like you were sinking and couldn’t get out.

Yelena watched as you quickly ran into the small bathroom and slammed the door shut. The sound caused the blonde to snap out of her haze and rush to the door but she heard the door lock. “Fuck,” she mumbled. She knew banging on the door and pleading for you to come out would send you deeper into a panic attack. She’s had to calm her sister down from them. Fishing her phone out of her pocket she scrolled through her contacts. Tony was out of town. She wasn’t sure if she could get her sister involved and she sure wasn’t hell going to call Wanda. That left Pepper. The Russian has texted the CEO a handful of times, mostly regarding takeout when they were at the office late. She was running out of options and hit call. The CEO picked up on the second ring.

“Yelena,” she said slowly. “What’s wrong?” The blonde sighed and began to pace in front of your bathroom.

“I’m in Y/n’s office and she had a panic attack and locked herself in the bathroom. I didn’t know who to call or what to do,” Yelena rattled off. Pepper was silent on the other end.

“I’ll be right down,” she sighed in relief.

“Thank you. I owe you one,” Pepper chuckled.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” the CEO said. “You don’t owe me anything.”

You were still on the floor, back against the wall, and knees to your chest. Everything you tried to calm your breathing down didn’t work and you felt yourself panic all over again. “Hey, it’s me,” you heard Pepper say. “Can you open the door for me?” You couldn’t move. “Or do you want me to use Tony’s spare key?”

“Key,” you said. The door unlocked and Pepper slowly opened it. You watched with tears in your eyes as she closed it behind her and sat down next to you.

“When was the last time you washed this floor?” She joked. You laughed as the dam finally broke. “Come here,” she pulled in a side hug as you cried against her.

“Is-is she mad at me?” You asked.

“No, she’s just worried but we aren’t going to talk about that right now. I just need you to breathe.” You’ve been plagued by panic attacks all of your life and you were prescribed medication at 10 years old. Sometimes the pill didn’t help and your anxiety got the better of you. But this helped, being fully hugged by another person grounded you. You focused on the way Pepper slowed down her breathing and the scent of her floral perfume. “Tell me,” she finally said, drawing circles on your back. “What’s going through your head?” You let out a shaky breath.

“I got caught up in work,” you told her. “And I missed a date with Yelena. I panicked.”

“Why did you panic? Yelena told me you flinched when she raised her hands.” You did?

“I thought she was going to be mad at me,” you said slowly. Pepper pulled away from you to sit in front of you. She pulled your legs down so you could get more air in your lungs.

“Can you be honest with me for one question?” You nodded. “Did Wanda hit you?” Your eyes widened at the accusation.

“What? No, never,” Pepper didn’t look convinced. “I promise. Sometimes she would get upset if she thought I was prioritizing work over our relationship. It was my fault,” you defended. “I should have done better. I should have been better.” Pepper sighed.

“Honey, you and Tony are so much alike I have to remind myself you aren’t a full-blood Stark,” you smiled, wiping away some of your tears. “Do you know how many times he has missed a date because he was too busy? I’ll answer, a lot,” you chuckled. Half the time you were in the lab when Pepper came looking. She never got angry with him, a simple roll of her eyes and she asked what he was working on. You would order pizza or Chinese and the three of you would sit and talk and laugh. It was some of your favorite memories. “I knew he didn’t love me any less. His brain is just a little scattered just like yours.” That was an underestimate, you had so many thoughts and ideas running through your head it was a little overwhelming. “My guess is when you missed a date with Wanda you made it up to her an extravagant way the next day.” You nodded.

“Yeah,” you whispered. “I just didn’t want her to be upset with me. I-” You cleared your throat. “I sometimes flinch when someone raises their voice or moves their hands quickly. I love my parents but they argued a lot.”

“Have you told Yelena this?” You shook your head, looking down at your hands. “Why?”

“Wanda didn’t seem interested in helping me through it,” you shrugged. “I learned to manage it by myself.” Wanda was your first real girlfriend. You didn’t count quick flings in high school and college or random hookups here and there. You were too busy with work or school or managing your public image.

“Look at me,” you did. She was pissed. You’ve seen her with this dark look in her eyes when she was speaking to Stark’s competitors or dealing with the press. “I need you to listen to me, okay?” You nodded. “Yelena is not Wanda and I know it’s gonna take time for you to trust her with this part of you but doesn’t seem better to have some help with this,” you nodded. It was lonely, swimming in the dark cavern looking for a way out. Pepper smiled. “Do you want to speak with Yelena?”

“Yes, please,” you were surprised that she was still here. “Thank you, Pepper. I appreciate it.” The CEO stood up and walked over to the door.

“We are family, always have been, and always will be, got it?” You nodded. “Now follow up question, do you want me to kill Wanda?” Your jaw dropped but soon your laugh echoed against the bathroom walls. “I’m serious. I don’t care if she’s my sister-in-law or whatever.”

“No need,” you smiled. “Besides I think that list is pretty long.”

“Ain't that the truth,” Pepper winked at you before exiting that bathroom.

The door wasn’t closed for long as it reopened and Yelena walked in, taking the spot where Pepper sat. “Hi baby,” you whispered, holding out your hand. She took it. “First, I’m sorry I hid from you. I was just scared and stressed with work. Second, thank you for calling Pepper.” She nodded as she stared at your connected hands.

“What can I do to help?” She questioned. You raised your eyebrows in question. “Your panic attacks. What do you need?” Oh. Wanda never asked. “For me, I don’t like to be touched and the 5 senses counting down works best for me,” you frowned.

“I don’t know you got panic attacks.” Yelena chuckled.

“I bounced around Russian and American foster homes of course I have panic attacks.”

“Why haven’t you told me about them?”

“Why haven’t you told me about yours?” She countered. You sighed, looking away from her. “Not sure when the best time to talk about my past.” She squeezed your hand.

“Wanda didn’t bother to help me,” you admitted. “So I’ve learned to keep it to myself.”

“Hey,” she said softly. You looked at her. “I’m not Wanda. I’m here for the good and the bad, okay?” You nodded.

“Okay,” you whispered.

You were sitting on the couch while you listened to Sarah and Tony bicker back and forth. According to Maria, you were ahead of schedule so you had a few moments of peace before it got crazy again. “Knock, knock,” the door to your suite opened. Natasha walked in wearing a sage green dress.

“Looking good, Romanoff,” Tony whistled. The redhead rolled her eyes.

“You clean up nice, Stark,” she looked at you. “Can we talk?” You hated the way your stomach dropped.

“Yeah, of course,” you stood up and walked over to her. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you gave her a pointed look. “Okay, Yelena had a small panic attack and locked herself in the bathroom. She’s refusing to come out.”

“Take me to her.” You said to her without hesitation.

“I can’t,” she sighed. “She doesn’t want you to see her.”

“I can speak to her through the door,” you reasoned with her. “Natasha, please.”

“Come on,” Natasha gave in. You left your suite without a word to your bridal party and followed her to her room where Yelena was getting ready. You were grateful for Natasha. If it wasn’t for her gentle push you knew you would have danced around your feelings for her sister, too scared to mess up your friendship with her.

“Just send it over to me,” you said, pacing behind your desk. “No, I trust you completely but you have your hands full and I can help,” the door to your office quietly opened. You smiled at your girlfriend and put your finger up to tell her you would be done in a minute. “Hope, I promise it’s not that big of a deal.” Yelena pushed your chair out of the way and sat on top of your desk. You smiled. “I know the next time I’m in California we'll get drinks. Give my love to Scott and Cassie. Bye,” you hung up. Yelena spread her legs to make space for you. You through your phone onto the chair and placed your hands on her thighs. “What are you doing, baby?” You asked. She placed her arms around your neck.

“I was missing you,” you smirked.

“You saw me at the all-company meeting.” She huffed.

“Not the same and you know it,” she pouted. You chuckled, kissing her shoulder and up to her neck. She pulled you closer.

“You can’t stay long,” you mumbled inches away from her lips. “I have a meeting with your sister.” The blonde rolled her eyes, groaning slightly.

“Please never mention my sister and kiss me.” You obeyed because you could never deny her. You kept the kiss slow, not trusting yourself to get carried away. Yelena was intoxicating, that was the best way to describe her. You could get lost in the way she kissed and touched you.

“Yelena,” you warned when you felt her tug your hair slightly. “We can’t do this here.” You wanted to push all your work off your desk and take her right here but you couldn’t. The morning wasn’t enough for you.

“Your meeting with your Chief of Staff isn’t for another 45 minutes,” Yelena mumbled. “You can make me cum before then.” You groaned, resting your head on her shoulder.

“Baby girl,” you whispered, kissing her neck. “You can’t say stuff like that.” You heard her breathing hitch when your lips grazed a sensitive spot on her neck.

“Clocks a ticking, moya lyubov’ (my love),” the last of your restrain flew out of the window and you crashed your lips against hers. She smiled, grabbing onto you tightly as your fingers fiddled with the belt of her pants and unzipped the zipper.

“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” You asked, hands skimming underneath her shirt and goosebumps erupted on her skin. “It’s so hard to keep my hands off of you.”

“Pozhaluysta (please), don’t tease me.” You chuckled, nipping at the skin underneath her ear. You were careful to not leave any visible marks.

“I got you, sweetheart,” you promised. “I’ll always have you.” You trailed your hand down her chest and trailed your finger underneath her pants, the door of your office opened. Yelena jumped, zipping up her pants.

“Ugh,” Natasha groaned. “Not you two too,” she walked over to your desk with the paperwork for your meeting. “I already have to worry about walking in on Carol and Val.” Yelena burrowed her face in the crook of your neck unable to look at her sister. You chuckled.

“Please, I’ve walked in on you and Bucky so many times,” Natasha smirked.

“A little tip, lock the door,” she hit Yelena on the shoulder. “Come on sestra you can get laid on company time after our meeting.” You felt the blonde let out a small huff and jump off your desk, kissing you softly. Your girlfriend flipped her sister off before leaving your office and closed the door behind her.

“Shut up,” you said, sitting down in your chair.

“I have to go bleach my eyes after this meeting,” you rolled your eyes as Natasha sat down. But that smirk was still on her face. “Or drink it so I can forget the image of you having your hand down my sister’s pants.”

“My hand was not down her pants,” you deadpanned. Natasha glared at you. “Whatever, let’s get this meeting going.” Natasha chuckled.

“Of course, someone has a meeting to have an orgasm.”

Natasha opened the door to the suite and it was empty of Yelena’s bridal party. She opened the closed door. “Thank you.”

“I’ll give you space. Call me if you need anything,” you nodded and walked over to the bathroom door, gently knocking on the door.

“Go away,” her voice shook. You fought every nerve in your body to break down the door and wrap her in your arms.

“Sweetheart, it’s me.” She was silent on the other side.

“You're not supposed to see me.” You smiled.

“I’m behind the door, my love. I can’t see you, I promise. Can you tell me what’s going on?” You could hear her breathing begin to pick up. “Hey, hey,” you cooed. “Count for me, baby. 5 things you can see.” You wondered if she heard you as she was so quiet.

“Natasha’s makeup bag, a hair dryer, my towel, Melina’s robe,” she laughed. “And a bottle of vodka Alexei left.” You laughed along with her. You loved Melina and Alexei, the odd couple who always made you laugh.

“Good job sweetheart. 4 things you can touch.”

“Bathroom mat, the door, the tile floor, and the silk of my robe.” You praised her each time she counted something in the bathroom that went along with her senses until her breathing slowed down. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “You shouldn’t have to deal with me like this,” you shook your head even though she couldn’t see you. You sat down with your back against the door.

“Nonsense,” you said. “You will always be my number one priority. So why did you lock yourself in the bathroom?” You asked. You heard her sigh.

“People are going to be looking at me,” she finally said. You kept the snarky comment at bay; ‘Well it is your wedding.’ You knew there was more. “And I started to panic because what if I fall or mess up my vows or Alexei embarrasses me.” You smiled.

“Well, he’s already going to do that so that’s a given,” she chuckled. “Do you want to call off the wedding?” Yelena gasped.

“No, no. I think Natasha would kill me,” You knew she would never do that. “And I’m not doubting I want to marry you,” well that was a relief. “I just panicked.” You hummed. “You must think I’m stupid.”

“Never, baby, I understand anxiety better than most people. There are going to be a lot of eyes on both of us but do you know where my eyes will be?”

“Where?” Yelena questioned.

“On you. I don’t care about anybody else,” you truthfully said. “And you just have to keep your eyes on me. Nobody else matters,” she was quiet as you brought one leg up to your chest and chuckled. “Do you remember when I asked you to marry me?”

“Before or after I punched you,” she deadpanned. You laughed which caused Yelena to laugh along with you. You asked her to marry her on parent’s farm. She was in disbelief at the question her instinct was to punch you. It got a laugh out of everyone that was there to witness it but she said yes.

“Happiest day of my life,” you admitted. “Well, that is a lie, every day spent with is the happiest day of my life.”

“That was disgustingly cute,” you rolled your eyes. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you smiled. “So are we going to get married today?” You heard rustling on the other side of the door, you figured she was standing up. You mirrored her actions. The clicking of the door unlocked and it opened slightly. She brought out her hand and you took it.

“See you are the alter,” you kissed her hand.

“See you there.”

Oh, you were going to throw up. You wanted to take back everything you said. You were nervous as Maria kissed your cheek and Howard hugged you, and they left you at the altar. They took their seats next to the empty ones you left for your parents. Next was the wedding party and you felt Tony grab onto your shoulder. “You are going to cause an earthquake for how much you are shaking,” he mumbled. “Breathe.” You nodded as Cooper and Nate walked down the aisle followed by Lila and Morgan. The music changed, the crowd stood up, and there she was.

“Holy shit,” you said, smiling. You heard Tony and Pepper chuckle at your reaction. It was the first time you saw the dress. Yelena went dress shopping with Melina, Natasha, Laura, and Pepper when you were on a work trip. The dress had a lace top and the style hugged every curve. It had a beautiful train behind her. Every guest's eyes were on her, she was the star of the show but her green eyes were only on you. Alexei kissed Yelena on the top of her head when they stopped in front of you and he turned to face you.

“You hurt, my little girl, I will kill you,” he deadpanned but you saw the joke in his eyes. “I have the skills to do it.” You rolled your eyes at the man.

“Dad,” Yelena warned but Alexei ignored his daughter and hugged you tight.

“You are good for her,” he whispered. “You keep her heart good.” He let you go and joined Melina at his seat. You took her hands and smiled.

“Hi,” you said. “You didn’t fall.” Yelena chuckled softly.

“No,” she whispered. “My eyes were only on you.”

With the ceremony over, changed into your reception suit, and a plate full of food, you made your way back to the sweetheart's table. You stopped as you saw Wanda walking with Carol. You knew she RSVP you still weren’t sure if she’d come. Placing your bowl of mac and cheese down and took a sip of your drink. Damn your wife for getting you addicted to the cheesy pasta. Wife. Yelena was your wife. You loved the sound of that. You walked over to your ex. To your surprise, she smiled when she saw you. “I wasn’t sure you’d come.” You admitted.

“You are the one that invited me.”

“Well, you invited me to yours. I was just returning the favor,” You looked around the venue. “Where’s the hubby?” You questioned.

“Watching the twins,” you raised your eyebrow.

“He doesn’t like me very much does he?” You asked. She didn’t answer but her smile told you everything. There was a time you hated the man too but you learned to let that emotion go. It was better to move forward and not get stuck in the past.

“I wanted to apologize to you and at some point Yelena.” That was odd. “Natasha knocked some sense into me.” You chuckled. “So I’m sorry.” You crossed your arms.

“For what exactly?” There was a lot she needed to apologize and you wondered what she was going to pick. Wanda sighed.

“I have a lot to apologize for but I’m sorry for everything I said about you and Yelena. It was done in poor taste and I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness.”

“I’m not giving it to you,” her face showed the shock she was in. “I don’t think you realize how damaging your actions and words hurt me and the person I love.”

“Why did you invite my family?” She asked.

“I could ask you the same question,” You moved to stand next to her to overlook the party. Yelena was doing a shot with Natasha, Bucky, and Alexei. She changed out of her wedding dress into a white jumpsuit. You loved the way she was smiling. “I don’t like how things ended between us,” you stated. “At one point you were my best friend but it got us to where we needed to be. You with Vision and me with Yelena. I guess it counts for something,” You looked at Wanda, who was frowning. “You aren’t happy with Vision, are you?” Wanda sighed, shrugging her shoulders.

“Not as happy as I thought I’d be.” You wondered what was going on behind closed doors. You hummed.

“Maybe that’s your problem, Wanda. The talent behind happiness is appreciating and liking what you have, instead of what you don’t have.” You walked over to Yelena, wrapping your arms around her waist. “Having fun?” You asked. She excitedly nodded her head.

“I beat Bucky at Pennies,” she said, smiling at you sheepishly. You squeezed her waist to get her to tell you what she was hiding. “You are going to need more mac and cheese, I ate yours.” You gasped.

“Baby!” You spun her around in your arms as she laughed. “We have an all-you-can-eat mac and cheese bar and you eat mine.” Her laughter continued as she rested her chin on your chest. “Why did you eat mine?”

“Because it was just sitting there and I like how you make yours and I couldn’t let it get cold so I ate it.” She giggled.

“God, I fucking love you,” you mumbled, kissing her.

“ya tozhe tebya lyublyu, moya zhena (I love you too, my wife)”

“Moya zhena (my wife),” you repeated and kissed her again.

Taglist: dogtamer415, justyourwritter69, marvelogic, upsidedowndanvers, theenglishswiftie, dark-hunter16, marvels--slut, janstevenswife, casquinhaa, marvelwomen-simp, dmenby3100, sleeperthelazy, rioheartz, mmmmokdok, wonrius, gemz5, ctrlamira, wandasmarley

#yelena belova x y/n #yelena belova x reader #yelena belova x you #yelena belova x female!reader #yelena belova imagine #yelena belova fanfiction #marvel au #marvel one shot #marvel fanfiction

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zorosbeau33 · 2 months

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"They said no"~ One Piece Luffy Scenarios/Drabble

❖ One Piece, Luffy x gender neutral reader

❖ Scenarios/Drabble, Not sure what genre to put on this? Established Relationship AU, Protective Boyfriend Luffy

❖ TRIGGER WARNING Unwanted advances from a third party, 18+ Only due to theme

❖ wc: 750

❖ Prompt "You said no and they didn't listen how does your partner respond?" ❖ Masterlist ❖ Zoro version~

. ⋅˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ ⋅˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

Hope you all enjoy~ If you think this prompt should be done with one of the others leave a comment or send a message~

. ⋅˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ ⋅˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

The night was young, the bars air yet to be filled with the heavy scent of smoke and sweat from the dozens of patrons that would filter through its worn wooden doors. And yet…already several men had one drink too many. This seemed of little consequence to your crew, earning only a mild scoff from Nami in disgust when you first entered. Perhaps due to the fact your merry bunch all congregated at the other end of the bar together, ordering drinks and food. Hopefully enough to satisfy your darling lover and captain’s insatiable hunger.

To the surprise of few Sanji was flirting it up with the bar maid to get the secrets of their famous cocktails for him to replicate on the ship. Luffy between bites of food with you, and silly slack stick humor with the others was very relaxed. After two weeks of battling marines on island after unfortunate island it was great to be able to just kick back and relax. He’d always held all his crew members, you included, in high regard when it comes to your fighting capabilities. Yeah he didn’t think you were invincible, but he had faith in your abilities to defend yourselves, and you to stand up for yourself with the knowledge he would always be there to back you.

This is why when the sleezeball at the bar put their arm around you Luffy didn’t flinch…well perhaps he had also not noticed at first. Too busy was he swallowing down his flagon of booze in a competition with Usopp to pay heed to the mans offensive once over of your being. He did however hear the switch in your tone as you firmly told the drunkard you were not interested, extricating yourself from his clammy hands. The strawhatted captain stayed calm, smile still in place as he talked with the others, but for once he did not boast of his victory in the competition. Merely laughed lightly, and continued eating, the slightest shift in his posture caught Robins eye. A tiny squaring of his shoulders as he sat up straighter.

Rolling your own eyes you moved to return to the group your new drink in hand, and a frown upon your lips. This however did not go noticed by your new admirer, the creep had his hands around your waist in a sudden and surprisingly quick movement. Pinning your back to the bar a bit roughly, causing you to wince at the force as you tried not to dump the fruity beverage down either of your fronts.

“Now now my pretty I said you should come home with me tonight eh?” His slurred purr felt like hot oil being poured into your veins. It was clear this man was much stronger than he appeared, and the malicious glint in their eyes spelled trouble. Still Luffy did not move, even as Nami jumped out of her seat the farthest person from you. Her yell of outrage on your behalf grabbed Zoro’s attention, several pairs of eyes fixed themselves upon you. Some of your crew still had not seemed to notice but the mans compatriots had, and they now rose and laughing approached cheering their “cap’n” on and making obscene jokes on your goings on for the night.

When your response was to tell him to get lost and kick him away, their laughter turned into drunken outrage. “I said no.” The man sneered at you now all feigned charm lost in an instant.

“You’ll do what I say when I say-” A fist connected with his cheek before he could reach for you again, down in an instant as your back was suddenly against a much softer surface. Luffy's warmth radiated into you from behind as he placed his hat upon your head, covering your view of the scene in front of you. “Oi…they said no.” His voice was deeper than normal, any normal boyish amusement gone. The hand around your waist, trembled softly with white-hot rage, his rubber skin radiating waves of Haki turning it a deep glistening metallic black. Luffy believed in your ability to protect yourself, but a no was a no and if the man tried to hurt you there was no way he was going to sit there and watch. The structural integrity of the bar be damned he was going to smash this man's face into every hard-looking surface he could find so that he’d never try such a thing ever again.

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icallhimjoey · 3 months

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Define Close

♥ ♥ Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader

Summary: What good are flatmates even, if they don't comfort you when you need it most? Or when you need it a normal amount? Or, you know, when you don't really need it, but just really want it?

CW / disclaimer: rpf, fem!reader, afab!reader, hurt/comfort i guess? idk we're sad a lot and joe cheers us up a lot, mentions of reader having hair long enough to be played with

Author’s note: oooohh trouble in paradise? or maybe not... well, at least there's some realisations. a few of them. we'll see how much they'll actually mean and if it'll change anything.

Wordcount: 4.3K

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five

Joe had been thrown for a loop.

What the fuck was that?

He didn’t understand what was suddenly different. Why things had suddenly changed. It was only subtle, they were just two words. But at the same time, proven by the fact that he couldn’t stop thinking about them, they carried colossal meaning.

“Thank you.”

It took him a second to process the words. He didn’t even really hear them at first. Didn’t let them land properly. Not initially.

He watched you walk into the kitchen and have a sip of water before you went to bed. Told him good night, which he returned, and then after you’d left him by himself, he suddenly frowned. Tucked in his chin in confusion.

Thank you?

Thank you for what?

You had never told him thank you before after an evening of a shared pizza and soft comfort on the sofa. Throughout the whole film, Joe’d rested his arm on the back of it, bent at the elbow, fingers slowly raking through your hair at your hairline. You’d curled into him like a cat, feet pressed into the cushions right next to his thighs, knees over his lap and your head on his shoulder.

Close and comfy, like it always was. Like you always were.

Joe had expected you to fall asleep, because you usually did, but you hadn’t this time. The film ended, and as the credits rolled, you sat up, stretched your arms up over your head and yawned.

“Thank you.” you’d casually said before getting up and leaving him there.

You made an offhand comment about needing to clean the kitchen. Said you’d get to it tomorrow and disappeared into the hallway before Joe could say anything about it.

Thank you.

Joe knew he was likely being silly. Saying thank you was a good thing. A polite thing to do, the opposite of rude, or careless. He should actually be glad for it.

Yet, he wasn’t.

It took him a whole day of thinking about it to figure out why it bothered him so much.

For one, he didn’t like that you’d introduced something new that felt less intimate, somehow. You’d never said it before, and he couldn’t think of anything else being different, so why suddenly this? Then, secondly, and Joe knew there was a fair chance he was wrong, but it somehow turned the quality time you spent together feel grossly transactional.

Like he’d done a stranger a favour.

He still didn’t fully get it, because essentially he was accusing you of doing something appreciative, but it just... it absolutely didn’t sit right with him.

Problem was, who was he going to talk to about this?

He couldn’t talk to anyone. Not even you. Because that’s not what you did. You never talked. Not about these things, at least.

And so, because there wasn’t really any other choice, Joe decided to push the whole thing to the back of his mind, where he’d forget about all of it eventually.

He was likely being stupid.

You had been nice.

He could just force himself to say you were welcome if you did it again.

Though he really hoped you wouldn’t do it again.

Didn’t want that to become a new flatmate thing, saying thank you and you’re welcome like you were vague acquaintances.

Things weren’t meant to move backwards like that. Not that Joe dared think of next steps. Forward ones. Of moving whatever was happening between the two of you along. But he didn’t want to go backwards.

He feared things were already slightly moving backwards though, because you’d not snuck into his bed in a while.

And you’d not gone out of your way to find him for a quick hug in a bit.

Joe thought it was likely that you were seeing someone. Or at least talking to someone. Not that this stopped you from draping yourself over Joe’s lap when you’d find him watching TV sat on the sofa, but it felt like you were pulling away just ever so slightly.

He only allowed himself to dwell on it for a second.

Was probably for the best, wasn’t it?

Joe understood that having you as a flatmate only worked out in the way that it did on his end because he wasn’t looking to enter a serious relationship with anyone.

If he was, he’d have to move out.

He’d have to.

There was no way he was going to be able to convince someone, anyone, that you and Joe were just normal flatmates. Especially if it was someone he’d have serious intentions about maybe marrying one day.

Or, if he could, there’d still be the issue that she would then likely not trust it. Not trust you. Not trust him.

So maybe this was smart.

Not as fun, though.

Good, for you. Obviously. You seemed happier. In better moods. This was a good thing, Joe reminded himself, and made a real point to think it every time he felt a little sad when he watched a film by himself in an empty flat. When he went to bed by himself in an empty flat.

A few weeks passed like that, until one afternoon, he’d walked in with bags full of shopping, and saw you’d crawled into bed for a midday nap. You’d left your bedroom door open and Joe took a moment to look at you as he leant against the doorframe.

Why did you look so much better to him when you were asleep?

So much softer. Almost fragile. Like you needed protecting.

He knew he took too long staring at you. Had to snap himself out of it and he squeezed his eyes shut as he closed the door. The self-restraint it took to not just walk right over and get into bed with you deserved a fucking medal, Joe thought.

When dinner time was nearing and he still hadn’t seen or heard you, he took it upon himself to go and wake you up.

Soft knocks on your bedroom door got no answer.

He went inside anyway, whispered your name and walked over to your bed.

You’d curled up into a little ball, face squished between your pillow and your pulled up shoulder and you looked achingly adorable, Joe could hardly stand it.

He used a finger to remove a strand of hair that had fallen over your face and softly said your name once more.

You woke up slow.

Joe got to witness it from up close.

After groaning, stretching and a deep inhale, you blinked your eyes into focus and found Joe sat on the edge of your bed.

“Good morning, sunshine,” he smiled. You frowned at his little joke, knowing full well it was nearing in on the evening. “We’re making pizza from scratch for dinner.”

You hummed and, in all honesty, wanted to roll over and get a few more minutes in. You’d not had a single good night’s sleep all week, so you’d reserved the weekend to catch up.

Just, sleep. No other plans.

“You want some home made pizza?” Joe cooed, eyes all rounded, all gentle.

You nodded, rubbing your face further into your pillow as you did.

“Yea? What toppings do you want?”

Joe forced you to wake up a little more. To think a little straighter.

It took you a second to get it together, and then you softly said, “I don’t know, what did you get?”

“Lots.”

“Hmm,” you tried your best suppressing a yawn. “I’ll have everything then.”

“All right, one everything-pizza, coming up.”

You huffed a laugh and rolled onto your back, managing to open your eyes fully now. You stared up at the ceiling a second, and then looked at Joe.

“I skipped lunch, so this is perfect, actually.”

And Joe just... smiled. Grinned widely as he looked at you. It took a few seconds before he seemed to realise that you could see him, because suddenly he looked down a little bashfully before clearing his throat and getting up.

“No need to rush, it’ll take a while. Dough’s still rising.” Joe talked as he walked out, slapping the doorframe as he passed it before disappearing from view.

And... shit.

You felt it then and you just... you knew you’d been right.

This just confirmed it, and you didn’t like how it all just settled into your bones more. Because, it meant trouble.

You’d first noticed it a few weeks ago.

How you’d somehow, over the span of some months, had fucking managed to fully pavlov yourself. Conditioned your mood into doing a complete one-eighty the moment your flat came into view.

You could’ve had the best day. Be in the best mood. Absolutely no reason to feel sad, to be tired, to be all down. Could be so happy, feel really upbeat, all chipper and energized. But you would quite literally turn the corner, would see your building, and you would feel your whole mood sink with every step you’d get closer.

And for what?

Just so you could be babied by your flatmate?

Because you knew he always would?

Sick. That wasn’t okay.

You had a stern check-in with yourself when, a few weeks ago, you came home after work and used the whole lift ride to think of reasons to be sad, quite literally depressing yourself.

And then, when you walked in on the verge of tears, Joe wasn’t there.

You fucking idiot.

Did all that for fucking nothing.

And now what?

Pick up the pieces yourself?

Where was the fun in that?

You thought about Joe’s bed, then. You knew he didn’t mind you sleeping in there. But, what were you doing, realistically? If you really gave it a good think?

Something needed changing.

Enough of this bullshit.

And when Joe had walked in around eight that evening, you sat down and watched a film together and you’d tried so very hard not to fall asleep. To not wobble in your mood. To not rely on Joe so much to fix what wasn’t even broken. God, you really had to stop convincing yourself that you were broken all of the time.

Once the film finished, you’d told Joe thanks and went to sleep and felt fucking awful for it, but it was probably for the best.

It would be good trying to be a bit more normal.

Use your words.

Be polite and say thanks when you should.

And maybe you should stop going for dates with guys, laugh at their jokes all night, but secretly be so excited to go home where you could sink into Joe’s side and hide yourself away underneath his arm for a good while.

Maybe you should stop having adult sleep-overs at random guys’ places, and constantly think of how your body fit together with theirs compared to Joe’s.

Wasn’t exactly healthy, what you’d been doing, was it?

Best to pull back. If only a little.

But then, waking up to Joe sat on the edge of your bed? Calling you sunshine as he smiled? Talking about making home made pizza together? Whispering all soft so you could wake up gently?

God.

There really was just something about it.

About him.

And even though you lived together, you realised you had missed him when you watched him walk out of your bedroom, talking about pizza dough rising and telling you not to rush getting out of bed.

Overcome by a weird surge of blind affection that would’ve been directionless had Joe not been there, you decided to just let it lead you where it wanted you to go. Let it pull you out of bed. Let it lumber you over to your kitchen.

You had itchy hands that needed to touch.

Arms that need to curl around and squeeze.

Feel him.

Feel him all up against you. Around you. Everywhere.

But, you were stopped in your tracks.

Thrown for a loop.

You hadn’t expected another person there.

Joe was stood by the counter, his back facing you, as he was cutting up some chicken to cook.

At the island stood his father.

“Hello,” Joe’s dad could smile just as warmly as Joe could. All kind and friendly. He said hello the way polite people always did, intonation going from up, then down, and then slightly up again at the end.

You knew Joe’s dad.

Had met him many times before.

You just hadn’t expected him.

He startled the tears right into your eyes.

Which sucked.

Because you were already on your way to attach yourself to Joe for a minute, and now you couldn’t because that’s not what you did in front of other people, and now you were crying, and guess how you always dealt with tears inside these four walls? Who always dealt with your tears inside these four walls?

Panic.

“Ooh, sorry! Did I frighten you?”

“N-no,” you tried smiling to disguise that actually, yes, he had done. But that wasn’t his fault. You had just wrongly assumed that when Joe said we’re making pizza from scratch, that he meant you and him would be making pizza from scratch.

Not his father and him.

Stupid.

Joe looked over his shoulder and saw you stood in the doorway still, body all rigid as your eyes darted from his dad to him and back again, and he saw.

Saw how your index fingers curled to scratch at your thumbs by your sides.

Saw how your held your breath, scared to release it, because what if it came out as a sob?

Saw how you bit your bottom lip into your mouth to make sure they wouldn’t see it tremble.

Saw the telltale crease of your forehead that always came before tears.

Shit.

Joe put his knife down and then, just... stood there. Didn’t know what to do. Because there was company, and Joe didn’t do what Joe usually did when there was company.

So now what?

You opened your mouth, and something stuttered out, but none of you could make sense of what words they were meant to be.

And then you just... stepped back.

Left.

Needed to go hide in your bathroom or something. Splash some cold water into your face and slap yourself across a wet cheek. It was so fucking silly, but it was wildly overwhelming to really want a hug from your comfort-person and then not be able to get one.

Just before you were about to dart into your room, you heard following footsteps.

No voice.

No words.

Just footsteps.

You were about three steps into your bedroom, bee-lining it to your ensuite, when a hand got you by the elbow and stopped you.

“Hey, come here.”

You easily let yourself be pulled back and crashed into Joe’s chest. It was confusing to try and wrap your head around why you suddenly were all up in your feelings, why the sudden dramatics, why your eyes were wet and your throat felt tight.

But then, there was Joe.

Ready to take care of it.

Joe used both arms to hold you against him firmly, one large palm around the back of your head to hold it in place. He let his head rest on top of yours, his cheek pressing into your hair, and you clung to him. Burrowed your face into him and tightly twisted handfuls of fabric of his shirt into your fists as your breathing grew more erratic.

“Shh, it’s okay. You’re okay.” Joe shushed and squeezed you and you mentally kicked yourself for even attempting to deprive yourself from this for weeks.

This was nice. This certainty of safety. Of zero judgement. Zero questions.

Why were you so upset?

It left you shaking.

Joe fucking loved it.

“It’s just my dad,” Joe said, and you couldn’t help the laugh that startled out of you. He said it like he was reassuring you that his dad didn’t bite, but you understood he meant his dad wasn’t going to be weird about what he’d just witnessed. Wasn’t going to mention how you’d just made a fool of yourself.

You turned your head to press your forehead into the hollow of Joe’s neck, rubbed your skin across his and took a second to just breathe. To stick your nose into the dip between his collarbones and to inhale him. To really feel Joe.

And Joe was never the first to pull away.

But his dad was making pizza in the kitchen still.

The longer you’d be gone, the higher the chance of an explanation needed.

“Tell you what,” Joe said after a bit. “You take a minute, clean this pigsty,–” Joe felt you were about to pull back, likely to argue him, so he didn’t leave any room as he quickly continued, “It’s so messy in here, I can’t even see the floor, and then, once you’re finished, in like, half an hour,–” you fully tried pulling out of Joe’s grasp now as you laughed, but he’d really locked his arm in, keeping you in place, still squished against his front. It turned into a playful wrestle to get free as you tried to pry your hands in between the two of you. “When you’ll have managed maybe tidy half of it, we’ll have dinner ready.”

Joe finally let go, and you pinched him in the side for his jokes.

Made him flinch and yelp, and it only made you smile wider.

Your room was hardly a mess.

“I’ll make an extra large pizza with the– with everything on that we can share.”

Fuck off, that made you pout.

“Stop, don’t cry. It’s just because my dad wants bean curd on his, so he has to do his own.”

“Oh, ew,” you grimaced, and Joe made big eyes in agreement as he nodded.

“Bean curd doesn’t count as everything,”

“Bean curd doesn’t even count as food.”

And just like that; you were normal flatmates again.

One just desperately needed a cuddle and the other desperately wanted to give one.

You didn’t need to talk about why.

Didn’t need to explain yourselves.

It just was what it was.

Joe gave your shoulders a last squeeze and left you alone in your bedroom. Pretended to trip on mess on his way out, and you checked, but there was nothing there.

Just before Joe found himself back in his kitchen where his dad was cutting up tofu, he silently celebrated how you hadn’t said thank you this time.

The universe felt restored.

Joe casually told his father that you were half asleep still when you’d walked in a minute ago. And his dad didn’t ask questions. Just asked if he could pass him the shredded cheese.

Having dinner together was fine. You mostly listened to the conversations between the two of them. Chimed in with an opinion when asked. Gave Joe a look when he silently ate all the smaller slices he’d cut, leaving you the larger ones, ensuring you got more than plenty seeing as you’d not eaten since breakfast.

About an hour later, when his dad was on his way out, you heard him ask Joe if he had any plans for the evening. It was Saturday night. You forgot people often had exciting plans on Saturday night.

For a single second, you prayed Joe didn’t have any plans as you selfishly felt you were due some falling asleep in his arms on the sofa.

Then you heard him say, “Horror film, I think,” before the two of them fell into too long a conversation about which films they’d seen over the past couple of weeks. And had Joe seen this film already? Because he’d heard good things. Um, no, he hadn’t. Not Yet. Ah, but he was going to a screening on Wednesday, Joe should join him. And, yea, he’d check his schedule, would let him know, because that sounded like fun.

You were cleaning the kitchen, wiping down the counters, when Joe finally said goodbye to his father and shut the door behind him. You heard how he locked it properly before he joined you again.

Joe didn’t ask if you wanted to watch a scary film with him. Just turned on the TV and found the one he wanted to watch.

Didn’t ask if you wanted a fat glass of red wine. Just poured two and placed them on the coffee table.

He didn’t have to call you over, didn’t have to motion at where to sit, and didn’t have to ask to share the blanket. You were already there, sat down right beside him and covered the two of you with the cosiest throw blanket you owned.

All unsaid.

All perfectly executed.

You weren’t the best at enjoying horror flicks. You were too easily scared, the suspense too difficult for you to handle, but it was fine. Joe was there. And you’d probably hardly get to see any of it, you knew.

Joe knew too.

If not the lack of sleep, the carbs of the pizza and the smooth glass of red would probably get you to drift off in no time.

With your glass in your hand, arm curled in to let it rest against your cheek, Joe invited you to let all your weight slump into his shoulder. He nursed his own glass in his lap as the film started, and you glued your gazes to the TV.

Your eyes were already kind of heavy, but you loved the shared warmth and gentle embrace too much to let yourself fall asleep so easily. You wanted to consciously exist in it for as long as you could, tonight. So you put some real effort into getting into the film, knowing that if it managed to get you hooked, staying awake wouldn’t become a huge chore. Especially with its genre.

But it kind of became a huge chore, anyway.

And you swore there were moments where you could feel Joe’s eyes on you, but when you chanced a quick peek, he was watching the TV, his head inclined to yours ever so slightly.

Maybe that was just the uneasy feeling that the scary film gave you then. Not Joe watching you.

You ignored how that disappointed you slightly.

It didn’t take long for your eyes to grow too heavy to keep open, and after really giving it your best try to fight it, you gave yourself over to what your body wanted. Closed your eyes and turned your nose into Joe’s arm.

Joe smelled like he always smelled.

You couldn’t really describe it, but it was distinctly him.

After a few minutes of teetering on the edge, you felt Joe take the glass of red from your grasp. You wanted to open your eyes, to apologise for nearly falling asleep whilst snuggled up under a cream-coloured throw blanket, but your eyes were heavier than anticipated.

You only managed a small murmur of sound. A little hum to let Joe know.

Your body moved as Joe leant forward to place both glasses onto the coffee table before he sat back, and in your hazy state, you let Joe help you get comfortable again. You felt how his hand slid under your elbow to curl around your arm, rubbing down the curve of it, until it reached your wrist. There, his fingers wrapped around and held on.

Not quite holding hands, but something close.

You dug your face further into his bicep, feeling the contour of it under your cheek and Joe slowly dropped his head on top of yours.

The last thing you remembered hearing were some gory slashing sounds accompanied with loud female screaming coming from the TV.

The last thing you remembered feeling was Joe’s breath that tickled a strand of your hair against your temple.

Yea.

You could just stay there forever.

Fuck rational thought and sensible life choices. They were quickly abandoned and could stay abandoned for all you cared.

Especially when you, what felt like hours later, roused awake a little when two arms lifted you from the sofa. When a voice softly shushed you, even though you made no sound. When an elbow switched off the lights, and when carefully measure footsteps carried you over into bed.

Into Joe’s bed.

You weren’t alert enough to pay attention to Joe’s turns. Hadn’t sensed where Joe was taking you from just his movements.

But the overwhelming scent as you were placed down onto a mattress told you all you needed to know.

With your eyes still closed, your arms searched for Joe across the bed, and you let out a soft whine when you couldn’t find him.

Joe was as quick as he could be.

Rushed around the bed and slid under the covers right into your awaiting arms.

You shifted until you fit together just right.

Comfortably wrapped up, legs wedged in between other legs, arms nudged into crooks of necks and circled around waists. Nose to nose, this time. Close. Sharing breath.

When Joe accidentally bumped his nose against yours, it startled him slightly.

Maybe that was too close.

But then you did something you’d never done before and you nuzzled. Let your noses slide together until those too fit together just right.

Joe knew he shouldn’t think of next steps. Of forward ones. Steps that moved whatever was happening between the two of you along.

But, fuck it.

Tell him how he couldn’t.

Look at how fucking close you were.

And sure, you were just flatmates who did this sometimes. It didn’t have to mean anything, because it hadn’t really meant anything so far.

And yet...

Joe opened a careful eye to steal one last look before he’d let himself drift off, and even though he looked at you with eyes all out of focus, the sight of you made things grow behind his ribs.

He was going to stop pretending this was normal, he promised himself.

Because all of it did mean something.

This carried meaning.

Carried colossal meaning.

---

The Taglisted

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#Joseph Quinn #Joe Quinn x You #Joseph Quinn x You #Joe Quinn x Reader #Joseph Quinn x Reader #Joe Quinn Fanfic #Joe Quinn fanfiction #Joseph Quinn Fanfic #Joseph Quinn Fanfiction #joe quinn x y/n #joseph quinn x y/n #icallhimjoey #define close

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