#I haven't written these two yet how are my voices for them?

[hard-core-super-star]

push me on the counter, call me princess [W.Maximoff; N.Romanoff]

pairing: dom!wanda maximoff x sub!reader x dom!natasha romanoff

summary: you and wanda develop a connection you definitely shouldn't have with someone in a relationship. unbeknowst to you, it's all part of their plan.

warnings: PURE SMUT, MINORS DO NO INTERACT -> mentions of cheating! [no actual cheating, though! wandanat have an agreement, R doesn't know about it until things get spicy]; mommy + daddy kink; nipple play; impact play; wanda using her powers to hold R down; fingering [R receiving]; oral [Nat receiving]; twinges of humiliation; degradation + praise; nat's a little mean but we love her for it; use of the term 'slut'; probably more but i forgot

wordcount: 3.3k

a/n: so...i'm technically not doing anything official for kinktober this year because school is kicking my butt already BUT i have a few ideas for some very filthy smut fics so i'll be posting them this month. i haven't written for wandanat in a minute so i hope i did them justice. please let me know your thoughts, i hope you enjoy <3

* * * * * * *

It was supposed to be a one time thing.

That's what you told Wanda when she pushed you against the farthest wall in some dingy, badly-lit, New York bar.

The two of you had come back from a long, draining, mission and, instead of staying at the Compound and actually resting, you decided to go out and get drunk to let off some steam. The mission had technically been a success, but it had also been a pain in the ass...and in the shoulder, thanks to the knife wound you'd received.

So, yeah, maybe going out wasn't the best idea in the first place.

In your defense, it was borderline impossible to say no to the witch. Mainly because she was very convincing when she wanted to be, but also because of your massive, and borderline ridiculous, crush on her.

To make matters worse, Wanda was pissed off at Natasha for...something and you ended up taking the place of a supportive partner.

It would have been fine had the drinks in your system not made your inhibitions lower significantly, which rendered you helpless against the green-eyed woman of your dreams. Then again, it's not like you were particularly against that idea in the first place.

Maybe that made you a horrible person.

Maybe that made Wanda a monster.

But how could she be one when she whispered the sweetest words in your ear while taking you over the edge and destroying you in the most pleasurable of ways? How could there be anything wrong about her soft caresses and gentle smiles?

A part of you knows the answer. It's wrong because the witch's heart isn't yours. Or worse, because someone else's heart belongs to the witch.

Because for all their problems and arguments, Wanda and Natasha love each other. At the very least, they tolerate each other enough to stay together.

And you don't fit into their relationship.

You shouldn't.

But Wanda isn't a person you can just ignore.

She makes that perfectly clear no less than a week after your little "mistake".

You're in the kitchen at the Compound, eating some leftovers and scrolling through your phone to keep yourself occupied, when Wanda walks in. You don't need to look at her to know she's pissed off. Her energy is way too heavy to mean anything else.

"Hey, Wands," you say, barely looking up from your phone out of fear of falling under her spell once more.

She walks over to you, leaning against the counter and silently watching you for a second. Her silence honestly scares you, but you don't question her yet. You know better than that.

"You've been avoiding me," she says, her voice soft yet not gentle. "Why is that?"

A shiver runs down your spine at the question. 

You know you can't lie to her, she's a freaking mind reader, but you can't exactly tell her the truth. You've both been trying to ignore it since the morning you woke up tangled together in her bed.

A bed she shares with someone who isn't you.

"I've been busy," you reply with a shrug. "Kate's been forcing me to train every day."

Clearly, that's the wrong answer, considering the tilt of her head.

Yup. You're fucked now.

"Is that so? I didn't realize you two were such good...friends."

Wanda pushes herself off the counter, taking slow, calculated, steps until she's standing behind you. If you weren't so focused on keeping your voice steady, you might have been able to guess what her plan in.

"Well, we both love annoying Clint and making Yelena mad."

She hums in response as her arms wrap themselves around you, pulling you back until you're firmly pressed against her. 

The action almost makes you fall off your stool. You somehow stay put, though, even as every fiber of your being tells you to leave. The harsh truth is that you don't want to leave.

You want her so badly that the consequences don't seem to matter.

Nothing matters but her.

Which is exactly what she wants.

"You should be careful with the little archer," she says, her hands not so subtly caressing your sides. "You know she's just going to use you then throw you away when she's bored."

The irony in her words isn't lost on you.

You open your mouth to let her know that when her hands move up and brush against your chest. It takes all your willpower to stop yourself from gasping.

"Wanda," you hiss. "We're in the middle of the kitchen."

"Relax, detka," she whispers into your ear, your body instantly obeying her words. "You know I won't let anyone see."

"Do I?" you reply. "Because it seems exactly like something you'd enjoy."

The witch chuckles despite herself. "That's true but you're not the only trying to keep things a secret."

You know her words should make you feel worse about this whole thing but right now, they only serve to turn you on. As messed up as it is, there's something exciting about the situation. 

About how much Wanda wants you.

So, even though you know you should push her away, you lean back against her, allowing her hands to explore your body however she wishes.

Your obedience (if you can even call it that) is instantly rewarded by the other woman. Her hands sneak their way under your shirt, her fingers drawing teasing shapes on your warm skin as she makes the journey upward.

"You're such a good girl for me, baby," she mumbles almost absent-mindedly. "Letting me use you like this. Letting me play with you whenever I want."

A part of you wants to put up a fight. To show her you have a bigger backbone than she realizes. That you're able to switch the tables on her whenever you want.

Unfortunately, that part of you goes quiet the second her fingers find your nipples. "Look at you, all ready for me, huh?"

"Shut up," you mumble as your cheeks heat up.

Your words of defiance earn you a sharp pinch to your already sensitive nipples. "Watch your mouth, sweetheart."

It's impossible to stop your back from arching as the leftover sting rushes through your system. You'd learned the hard way that Wanda could either be the sweetest or the most unforgivable lover. In a way, it made being with her all the more exciting...and unpredictable.

Then again, you can't pretend you don't like it. If you didn't, you would have never gotten mixed up with her in the first place.

"Sorry," you whisper, not sounding particularly sincere.

If Wanda notices, she doesn't point it out and instead goes right back to playing with your chest, squeezing and pinching your nipples as she pleases.

Her actions only serve to make you more and more desperate for her. It's almost embarrassing how good she is at reading you. At knowing exactly what buttons to push to turn you into a shaking, pleading mess.

A part of you knows it's thanks to her powers that she can read your desires so well, but you ignore the thought for now. You could beat yourself up over all this later, right now, you had a very important task ahead of you.

"You're eager today," she teases, her eyes zeroing in on the slight movement of your hips. "Did you miss me that much?"

You're not sure why you're in such a defiant mood today but your mouth moves way faster than your thoughts. "Yeah, Kate was too busy today."

You don't see the scarlet that begins to overtake her eyes since you have your back to her. You miss the warning signs until she uses her magic to bend you over the counter, keeping your hands behind your back.

"You're going to regret talking to me like that," she says, holding you down easily thanks to her magic.

It's obvious you should apologize and yet you remain as composed as you possibly can given the situation. As stupid as it is, you're still mad at her for putting you in this situation.

Out of the two of you, she was the one who was in the wrong. She was the one fucking up her relationship just because she was upset with her girlfriend. And she had the audacity to pull you down with her.

To make you like it.

You couldn't place all the blame on her and yet you did it anyway. As if that would somehow fix the entire situation.

Her hand comes down on your ass before you can make your predicament worse. The sudden sensation makes you jump, the leftover sting taking over your mind.

"Wanda." Your attempt to sound mad falls completely flat since your voice is far too breathless for it to be convincing.

She spanks you again. Once. Twice. Each time striking both harder and faster.

"Try again, detka," she tells you, her voice unforgiving. "And then maybe, I'll go easy on you."

She won't.

You know she won't. But the idea that she could is more than tantalizing enough.

Although, then again, it wasn't like you didn't enjoy calling her by her beloved title.

"Mommy," you whisper, your voice sounding way too loud in the empty kitchen.

You don't need to be looking at her to see the proud grin that takes over her features.

This is the real reason why she wants you. Why she likes being with you. Because she doesn't need to fight you to get you to submit to her every whim.

"Good girl." Wanda's hands toy with the waistband of your pants. "Tell me what you want."

You allow the silence to drag on for a second longer than necessary. You both know you won't deny her, you can't, but that doesn't mean you can't keep her guessing. 

Maybe then she'll grow tired of you and stop using you so carelessly.

"Want you to touch me...please, mommy."

You half expect her to drag the moment out until you can't hold yourself back from begging for more. For her.

She doesn't, though, because unbeknownst to you, she's playing a different kind of game with you today.

Wanda uses her powers to undress you, barely giving you a second to register just how vulnerable she's leaving you. You know no one will walk in on you two, she promised you that much, but that doesn't make it any less scary...and thrilling.

"Look at you," she coos, her fingers spreading your slick folds. "So wet and I've barely even touched you. Such a needy thing, aren't you, sweetheart?"

It's embarrassing how hard your walls clench around pure air from the mere tone of her voice. It's that intoxicating mix between degrading and sweet that you want everything she's willing to give you.

"Yes, mommy," you whimper.

"Oh, I know," she says, pushing the tip of her index finger into your tight cunt. "She's such a good girl, isn't she?"

Your eyebrows furrow in confusion but her powers hold you down and stop you from turning to look at her. Your question is answered before you can even ask it, though, as a certain pair of black boots make their way into your field of vision.

"I'm not sure." The sound of Natasha's voice sends a shiver down her spine. "She looks like a desperate slut to me."

Wanda stops you from answering, thanks to her powers. "Oh, come on, Nat, don't be mean. Look how eager she is to be played with."

The redhead rolls her eyes. "That just proves my point."

The witch laughs, taking the moment to sink her finger deeper into your pussy, relishing the wet sounds that fill the kitchen. You're more than a little humiliated, but there's nothing you can do to stop it. Worse, there's nothing you can do to deny how wet the situation is making you.

How desperate you are for more.

Wanda knows. Of course, she knows. It's partly because of her powers and partly because she knows your body far too well. And because she knows you so well, she gives you a chance to call the whole thing off before it even truly starts.

"What's your color, y/n?"

It would be so easy to say "red" and stop everything. You know there would be zero judgement. That despite whatever agreement they've come to, they'd both take a step back and make sure you were okay.

And yet...you can't seem to form the word.

Because, as much as you don't want to admit it...you want this.

"Green..." you whisper.

Wanda leans in, taking your mind off of Natasha's eyes on you, and peppers soft kisses across your back. The softness of her lips is a stark contrast to her previous demeanor and it helps calm down your speeding nerves.

The Russian steps forward, her hand cupping your face and gently tilting it backward until your eyes meet. "You want this, don't you, darling?"

You don't want to admit it but you can't bring yourself to lie to her. "Yes...I want this."

The sharpness in her eyes fades away slightly. There's still an edge of annoyance in her features but she looks almost as turned on as you feel. "Good girl."

Your walls clench around Wanda's finger and she chuckles before starting to move in and out of your tight heat. "I think she likes you, Nat."

"Shut up."

Wanda adds another finger into the mix, expertly stretching you out and drawing out a long moan from your parted lips. "That's it, just give in, sweetheart. Doesn't it feel better when you stop thinking so much?"

It's startling how right she is.

She doesn't wait for an answer this time, though, she simply speeds up her movements, curling her fingers in the way that drives you crazy. The pleasure slowly overwhelms your mind, removing all other thoughts until all you can focus on is how good it all feels. How much you like submitting to them like this.

"Mommy..." You whine, watching the way Natasha's eyes darken in response to your sounds. "Please...need more."

"Aw, are two fingers not enough for you, baby?" The fake pity in her tone turns you on more than it should. "Does your greedy pussy need more?"

You nod desperately, ignoring the humiliation that lingers in your every move.

All that earns you is another laugh from Wanda and an eye roll from Natasha.

The redhead steps back from you, causing you to whimper, before her hands move to her belt. Her eyes remain on yours as she starts removing her garments, slowly revealing the red strap-on resting between her legs.

Your lips part almost instantly once you catch sight of the full size of it and just how incredibly dominant it makes Natasha look. You shouldn't be surprised considering what everyone, including Wanda, always say about her. Then again, seeing is believing.

"So fucking eager, aren't you?" You know the Russian is technically making fun of you, but you can't help feeling a bit proud of yourself for the grin on her face.

She steps forward, her hands coming up to tangle in your hair and guide you forward. There's something weirdly soft about her movements, about the way she takes her time with you. Maybe, just maybe, she likes you more than she's let on.

You wrap your lips around the head of the dildo, your eyes glued to Natasha's face. You can see the flecks of pleasure spreading across her features, the way she clenches her jaw to stop herself from vocalizing it. It's like you're stuck in a far too arousing competition with her. Each of you trying your damn harderst to break the other.

Unfortunately for you, you also have Wanda working behind you, her fingers restlessly pumping in and out of your soaked entrance. She knows exactly how to wind you up. 

Exactly how to keep you on your toes yet wanting more.

Natasha guides you further down her cock, working the length deeper into your mouth. "You look so much better like this, malyshka."

"I told you," Wanda pipes up, choosing that exact moment to work another finger into your tight heat. "You just wanted to be a party pooper."

"Keep talking like that and you'll be next, Maximoff."

"You're no fun."

You've never heard Wanda like this. So pouty and borderline bratty. It's a stark contrast to the dominant woman you've grown so attached to. To the one that turns your brain to putty with just a few words.

"Don't get any ideas, sweetheart. Mommy's still in charge here."

You moan in response, the sound muffled by the dildo currently stuffing your mouth.

"If you're Mommy," Natasha says, starting to thrust into your mouth. "Does that make me Daddy?"

You try to voice your approval for the title but neither of the women pay attention to you. They just keep talking like you're not even there, like all you are is a toy for them to play with.

"I thought you didn't like being called that."

The redhead shrugs in response. "I don't but now I'm curious."

"I think our good girl would like it."

You wait for Natasha to complain and say something about how you aren't theirs. Maybe make fun of you again for even thinking they'd ever entertain that idea.

She doesn't, though.

All she does is double her efforts as she keeps thrusting into your mouth. 

The kitchen fills with the sounds of your pleasure as they both play with your needy holes.

You feel yourself growing closer and closer to the edge, the coil in your stomach getting tighter with each one of their well-timed thrusts. You're completely at their mercy and you love every second of their never-ending show of dominance.

Of control over you.

Wanda's movements speed up and you do your best to ask for permission to cum, knowing all too well the consequences that would await you if you forgot. It's practically impossible to speak, though, considering the way Natasha is still thrusting into your mouth, her hips grinding against the base of the dildo each time she slips the length back inside.

"I know, baby," the witch reassures you. "You want to cum so bad, don't you?"

All she gets is a muffled whine in response, your body jerking forward when her thumb teases your swollen clit.

"Go ahead, darling," Natasha speaks up, her voice practically a low growl. "Cum all over Mommy's fingers for me."

You're not used to receiving such a command from the redhead and yet your body reacts immediatly to her tone. Your whole body seems to come alive as you fall over the edge, Wanda's fingers never ceasing in their movements. She expertly draws out your pleasure until you're left shaking and panting. 

The ringing in your ears doesn't allow you to hear the string of moans that leave Natasha's mouth as she watches the scene. The sight of you coming undone so violently causes her to fall apart, her fingers tightening in your hair until you're sputtering for air.

Thankfully, Wanda knows your limits well.

No words are exchanged as she uses her magic on you again. You're barely coherent, your mind still too muddled by pure pleasure and the cotton-filled haze of submission.

She gently sets you down on the couch, wiping down your soaked skin with a wet cloth, making sure to look you over in case their rough movements bruised you up.

"You okay, darling?" The witch asks as she settles down next to you.

You nod in response, shifting a little until your head rests in her lap. "Yeah...just tired."

"You should get some rest, detka. We have a lot to talk about."

Her words make you laugh. "That's an understament, Wands."

"Whatever." She moves her hand down to run her fingers through your hair, gently scratching your scalp as sleep overcomes you.

There's a lot you don't understand, a lot you really figure out, but you feel safe with the knowledge that you haven't ruined anything. That you're not an intruder in their relationship. If anything, you're a welcome addition.

[wileys-russo]

the royal box II l.williamson

i think this is genuinely up there with one of my favourite fics i've ever written the royal box II l.williamson

"i'd love to do lunch! i should probably find my seat soon but maybe next week? i'll get my agent to text me my calendar." you smiled, kissing the girls cheek and clinking your drink against hers in goodbye as you turned back to the bar.

not having seen her since you'd walked your first runway years ago it never ceased to amaze you how small the world could seem at these type of events, truly never knowing who you'd run into next, most of them a pleasant surprise.

"shame they let anybody in here now, for a royal box it’s really going downhill." but that voice, that raspy tone and infuriatingly attractive accent, that voice was not a pleasant surprise, in fact it was anything but.

"leah." you didn't even need to turn to look at her as she appeared beside you, nursing a drink of her own as the pair of you watched the pre set warm ups commence on the court below, stood together at a large crystal clear double paneled window right by the bar.

"well it can't be that royal of a box if you're here. unless they invited you because you're a royal pain in the ass?" you met her gaze with a fake smile, sipping at your drink as she puffed air from her nose.

"well you never seemed to complain when i was touching your ass darling." she quipped back smugly as you finished your drink with a fake chuckle, reaching over to place the empty glass on the bar top.

you hadn't seen her in months and yet it felt like only yesterday those same bright eyes had been locked with yours, often at any and all hours of the night and rarely ever stone cold sober as you'd roll around in bed together.

but swallowing the past you plastered a polite smile on your face and turned back to her. “lovely of your dad to let you borrow his suit, though it could have been tailored a little better-” you gently knocked your foot against hers, heel dragging up the edge of her pants that indeed were a centimeter or two too long to reveal her ankles.

"-then again, might be best to hide those shoes. did you loan those from your grandad?" you grimaced, leah kicking your foot away with a scowl, necking the last of her own drink.

“well speaking of hiding what a lovely change for you to put on a dress that isn't two sizes too small and soaked in cheap tequila and regret." the blonde smiled charmingly reaching over your shoulder to put her empty glass down next to yours, gesturing to the bartender that she'd like another.

"then again i know thats all about easy access for you, isn't it?" leah smirked as your eyes narrowed but still the fake smile remained on your lips.

“i seem to remember you never minded. less material to rip off and toss on your floor first, then throw at my face once we were done and you wanted me to leave, right?” you retorted back, not missing the way her eyes dipped up and down to check you out.

“do I have a glow about me? i’ve just been getting so much more beauty sleep without the needy calls at three in the morning.” leah questioned, patting her cheeks gently with a smug glint in her eyes as you laughed politely.

“no i was actually going to suggest you try a new eye cream, anti aging maybe? and these frown lines…yikes. then there’s those angry little eyebrows-” your finger wiggled around in front of her face pointing things out, lips curling upward at the way the smug humor was promptly wiped from her features.

“at least my eyebrows are real.” leah was quick to bite, jaw muscles visibly clenching as you chuckled, not at all ashamed of the fact you got yours tattooed, something leah used to find endlessly fascinating.

“well in my defense i have had a lot of practice faking things, haven't i?” you grinned watching her jaw tense even more, knowing exactly which kinks in her armor to poke at to get a reaction even after all this time had passed.

"please. i know you miss me!" leah's eyes rolled cockily as you laughed sarcastically. “aw is that what you have to tell yourself to feel better? baby I haven’t missed you at all.” you promised as her eyes now rolled.

“yeah you wish, i’ve missed you even less.”

“did dad do your tie for you as well or have we learned how to do it ourselves by now?” you pouted mockingly, reaching over and tightening the knot of her tie as she pushed your hands away and quickly tugged it back looser again.

“booked any genuine campaigns yet or is mummy still flashing the nepotism card to get you on the runway?” leah pouted right back as you scoffed and she grinned, also knowing exactly where to poke at you to get what she wanted.

“please like you don’t stalk my socials, i see you watching my stories.” you snickered, eyes drifting away from her and back down to the court where things seemed to be about to start.

“you think about me so much you feel the need to check? do you post things hoping i'll see them? aw baby girl that’s so sweet of you.” leah cooed pinching your cheek as you smacked her hand off you with a glare.

“don’t call me that.” you warned, hating the glee which filled her face at your obvious discontent, cursing yourself internally for allowing her to see as much.

“oh i'm sorry, struck a nerve did i? good girl, is that better?” leah leaned in closer to whisper, lips grazing your ear as she grabbed a fresh drink from the bar and retracted, the hair on the back of your neck standing to attention.

you kept quiet at that, turning away from her and ordering a new drink of your own with a polite smile, still feeling her eyes on your back as she made no move to leave.

"surely there's some doe eyed idiot with a complex for athletes that you can go swoon with the stories of you kicking things to boost your microsized ego?" you rolled your eyes hearing her chuckle and move to lean against the bar right beside you again.

"footballs. kicking footballs, never could learn the rules or the lingo could you? or maybe you just pretend not to know so i'll explain to you over and over and over, always giving you the attention you want so badly." leahs finger swiped at your nose as you gave her a hard look and shoved at her shoulder.

"speaking of idiots, will that wet mop with teeth and a combover you call a boyfriend be joining us?” leah questioned, spinning around so her back leant against the bar top and her eyes scanned the room, everyone slowly filing out to find their seats.

"you really have been keeping tabs." you glanced up at her with a small smirk as she chose not to acknowledge your statement.

“but no he’s probably off partying in magaluf or ibiza spreading some sort of sexually transmitted disease, waving his little dick around and shoving it into everything that moves.” you rolled your eyes with disdain at the mention of your anything but loyal ex, the boy having slept with more women just while he was with you than you think you had your entire lifetime.

"ahh i see, ex boyfriend then. did he catch the sti from you? or was it one pregnancy scare too many that pushed the unwilling father to be away.” leah smirked though she felt you stiffen beside her and suddenly alarm bells went off in her head that maybe she'd taken things just a step too far.

"fuck you leah." you didn't even hang around to wait for your drink, giving the taller girl one final venomous look which made her stomach drop before you were storming off away from her to find your seat.

it had happened when you least expected it.

you'd not seen leah for a couple of weeks as she was on camp for england, but nothing about your hook ups regular or scheduled and certainly not monogamous you'd busied yourself seeing other people.

this night in particular it had been a rather handsome male model you'd been on a shoot with, accepting his offer of dinner and drinks once you'd wrapped for the day, raised never to say no to a free meal or a hot date.

one thing lead to another and later that night you found yourself in a club packed with blurred faceless bodies, surrounded by strangers and drowning yourself in shots to the point you didn't even remember leaving and going home with him.

there was however one thing that was burned into your mind, the biggest regret of your life as the condom had broke while the two of you were going at it.

normally you were always careful and you'd never be this stupid but the boy dismissing it himself you'd been far too drunk to disagree as he made no move to pull out.

not even getting to have a release yourself it had been a gloriously underwhelming seven minutes before he was satisfied and then suddenly too tired to return the favor.

again with potentially more cheap vodka in your system than blood you'd passed out beside him, spending the night in his bed and waking up hours later with a pounding headache and a deep rooted shame as you sat up and slivers of last night flickered through your mind.

grabbing your clothes you quickly dressed and fled his house, no idea where you were as you sat on his front steps and bounced your knee, the shame spreading through your body quickly morphing into anxiety as your fight or flight kicked in.

knowing there was one person who would answer this time of morning you clicked call, phone held to your ear and skin crawling with disgust as you prayed she would come through.

sure enough after only a few rings the dial tone clicked and you heard a yawn. "this is unusually early for a hook up even for you, what you need and miss me this badly?" the teasing tone and snicker died in her mouth hearing how you spoke her name.

"leah." you could barely get it out without crying, covering your mouth as reality set in and the blonde on the other end sat up in her bed, rubbing her eyes and trying to wake herself up properly.

"whats happened? whats wrong?" the concern in her voice was lost on you as you took a shaky breath. "can you come pick me up please? i don't know where i am but i can send you my location." you asked quietly, leah already out of bed and rummaging around for her car keys.

"yeah send it now, i'll be there soon."

you'd moved away from his house lingering on the curb out front when you heard her pull up, standing to your feet and hurrying to her car just wanting to get as far away from here as possible.

leah had intended to get out of the car to check on you but you were already up and opening the passenger door, sliding into her car and avoiding her gaze as you buckled yourself in.

"you alright?" leah asked cautiously voice thick with sleep, taking in your disheveled appearance and oddly quiet manner with a frown. "i'm fine." you muttered quietly, fiddling with your hands in your lap as you stared down at the floor.

"did something happen?" leah asked carefully though you knew what she meant, a gentle nudge to your side having her offering you a bottle of water she'd quickly grabbed from her fridge as she flew out the door.

"can you take me to a pharmacy please? there's one open about ten minutes from here." you asked after accepting the water with a quiet thank you, leah hesitating for a moment which you felt.

"leah, please." you finally looked up and met her gaze, silence filling the car as the blondes eyes raked over you. "actually don't worry i should have just called an uber or something i'm sorry." you shook your head, moving to unclip your seatbelt as leahs hand shot to grab yours.

"no, please i really don't want you in an uber by yourself right now. put the address in and i'll take you." leah promised softly, squeezing your hand and waiting until you nodded to let go, starting the car back up as you typed the address into her gps system.

there wasn't another word exchanged between the pair of you, leah focused on the road and your own gaze trained out the window, occasionally taking small sips of the cold bottle of water clenched in your hand.

"you don't need to come in, i can find my way home from here." you unclipped yourself as leah pulled up outside the small block of shops where the twenty four seven pharmacy was.

"thank you leah." you spoke sincerely and softly, leaning across the console to kiss her cheek, slipping out of the car before the blonde could even get a word out.

she sat there stumped for a second watching your figure disappear into the pharmacy, shaking her head and hurrying to unclip her own belt, turning off the car and hurrying in after you.

"leah what-" you looked up in surprise as she appeared beside you, crinkle of confusion in your eyebrows as the blonde opened and closed her mouth a few times.

"sunglasses! i need sunglasses and...pads?" she floundered around for an excuse, grabbing a pair of shades off the rack in front of you and slipping them on with an awkward smile.

you couldn't help but chuckle, seeing what she was doing but appreciating it none the less. "thank you." you smiled, leah nodding and darting off to grab the pads she had no intention of using as you waited for the pharmacist.

"what can i get for you love?" the older woman eventually appeared in front of you as you shifted uncomfortably. "can i get the morning after pill please?" you asked quietly, not missing the judgement that flashed across her face though it was gone as soon as it appeared.

you jumped at a loud clatter behind you glancing over your shoulder to see a flustered looking leah scrambling to clean up the pile of baby formula tins she'd just knocked over, sunglasses still covering her eyes.

"sorry! sorry! i just...i got this." leah motioned to the tins, cheeks flushed bright red in embarrassment as you bit the inside of your own cheek to hide a smile, hearing the pharmacist sigh.

"is this pill for yourself or someone else?" the woman asked in a monotone, kindness drained from her voice as the same cocktail of shame, anxiety and disgust leapt into your mouth like bile.

"myself."

"have you considered all of your options?" the woman asked again as you frowned with confusion. "my options?" you questioned as again the woman sighed as if you were doing her a grave disservice.

"your options. have you taken a test? seen a doctor? do you know if you are actually pregnant?" the woman raised an eyebrow as your mouth opened and closed a few times, caught off guard by the questions.

"excuse me? it is literally called the morning after pill. how would she have had time to go see a doctor and take a test? not that any of that is your business." leah was suddenly beside you, sunglasses pushed onto her forehead and signature scowl on her face.

"well i-"

"exactly. so can you please get her the fucking pill? legally i don't think she's required to do anything than prove she's of age to purchase it." leah warned seriously as the womans eyes widened and she nodded, quickly rummaging around behind her.

"here." she placed it down in front of you and rang you up, your phone tapping to pay as leah stared the woman down firmly. "thank you." the blonde smiled though it didn't reach her eyes, the two of you quickly making your way out of the store and back to leahs car.

"seems all i'm doing today is saying thank you." you smiled hovering by her car, leah dismissing it with a small wave. "you might need to wait and take that in a little bit though." leah gestured for you to get into the car as she rounded to her own side.

"why?" you asked, eyebrows furrowing in confusion as she started up the engine, arm draped across the back of your seat looking over her shoulder with a grin.

"well because i just realised i didn't pay for these sunglasses."

"we're at your place?" you questioned later as the blonde pulled into her driveway and cut the engine off. you'd already taken the pill during the drive, missing the way leahs eyes flickered to you every few minutes to check you were okay.

"yeah i figured you probably shouldn't be by yourself, just in case theres any side effects or anything." leah brushed it off as you nodded slowly, genuinely too tired and hungover to find an argument.

you followed her out of the car and into her home, finding it strange to be stood here in broad daylight and uncertain of what was to come, awkwardly wrapping your arms around yourself.

"do you want a shower?" leah offered as you glanced down and realised you really could use one, the thought of being able to wash off the remnants of last night too tempting to turn down.

"yeah that would be great, thank you."

you exhaled heavily as you exited leahs shower already feeling better, finding a bundle of clean clothes waiting at the door for you to change into.

you couldn't help but inhale as you wiggled yourself into her clothes, drowned in the scent of leahs expensive perfume and green apple body wash, unable to deny the comfort it strangely provided you.

"all good?" leah asked as you appeared, the girl also unable to deny the weird way her stomach twisted seeing you clad in her clothes. "yeah your water pressure is insane." you chuckled making her grin, licking a dollop of jam off her thumb.

"thought you might want something to eat but i haven't exactly done my groceries yet." leah offered you a plate of toast, slight pink blush in her cheeks, something you'd not seen from the footballer the entire time you'd known her.

"its perfect." you assured, ignoring the urge to tease her for blushing knowing the girl had practically saved you today and you owed her a great debt of gratitude.

"do you want to watch something?" leah offered, thumb pointing to the lounge as you nodded, following her over here as you sat down, leah right beside you with her own plate and grabbing the remote.

"is that...just plain bread?" you asked, amusement present in your features at the blondes choice of breakfast. "yeah, so?" she scoffed defensively as you raised your hands up in surrender.

"nothing...the stomach wants what it wants." you laughed, leah kicking you playfully and grabbing her plate, settling back into the lounge and propping her sock covered feet onto the coffee table.

"you watch this?" you asked with surprise as she flicked on last nights episode of big brother. "you don't?" she questioned with a mouthful of bread as you grimaced and knocked your knee into hers.

"of course i do, just didn't picture englands captain wasted her time on trashy reality tv!" you teased taking a bite of your toast as she shrugged, reaching behind her to grab a blanket off the back of the lounge, putting down her plate and gesturing for you to put your arms up as she draped it across the two of you.

"might be a god in the bedroom but i am still human." she winked as you jokingly gagged and she pulled a face, settling back down and munching on her plain bread as a comfortable silence fell between the pair of you.

you weren't sure when you fell asleep but you awoke several hours later dazed and confused. you tensed realising you weren't alone, an arm draped across your midsection as you groggily rubbed your eyes, blinking a few times and coming to.

you quickly realised it was leah draped across you, a mess of blonde hair covering her face as it was tucked into your shoulder, her arm slung tightly across your midsection, other hand intertwined with yours as you realised your fingers were interlocked.

you felt weird, no-you felt good. it felt strangely right to be in this foreign position with her and that was terrifying, the subtle and warm and welcoming domesticity of the situation filled you with dread and with fear.

you couldn't develop feelings for her, not for leah.

leah who wouldn't even look at you after she'd spend hours worshipping your body and having you chanting her name among all sorts of obscenities.

leah who would just toss you your clothes and wander off for a shower or roll back over in bed facing away from you, which you knew all too well was the unspoken cue for you to leave.

yet here she was curled up into you, legs stretched out across the coffee table and tucked under a blanket, holding your hand and your body in a way so tender you had almost forgotten what sincere non sexual intimacy felt like.

so you did what countless nights spent with her had trained you to, you left.

carefully unwinding yourself out of her grip the blonde had stirred but remained asleep, allowing you the time to shrug off her clothes and slip back into your dress from the night before with a disgusted grimace at the memories they held.

folding up her clothes and leaving them on the arm of the lounge you gave her one last look, a weird longing to just wrap yourself back up in her arms all you needed to push you out her front door.

leah had woken up not long after, frown on her face as she realized you weren't beside her anymore and the clothes you'd had on were neatly folded a few metres away, and since that morning leah hadn't heard a word from you.

you sighed deeply as you watched the blonde make her way down the row of seats, smiling and shaking hands as she went but heading right for you.

"you have to be joking." you mumbled to yourself as she dropped herself in the spare seat right beside you, not missing the way you physically recoiled and pulled your body as far to the other side of your seat as you could to get away from her.

"you forgot your drink." leah offered it out to you, giving an awkward smile as you glanced at her but accepted it none the less, taking a sip and sitting it down in the holder on your right.

"i'm not thanking you." you warned her, hoping that was all she wanted and would head off to another seat but you had no such luck as she wriggled around and made herself comfortable.

"look i'm really sorry i took that way too far and-" you almost thought you might not hear from her again as the set started, leah leaning in to whisper to you as your eyes closed and you sighed again.

"its fine, just shut up leah." you sharply cut her off, the blonde nodding and leaning back, both of you pulled into conversations with other people as the box buzzed with quiet chatter.

eventually though you once again found yourself with not much else to occupy you as the chatter died out and the match began to heat up, leah muttering commentary under her breath as you chanced a look at her and chuckled at the concentrated scowl on her face.

"what?" she didn't miss it as your head snapped forwards again and you shrugged. "no go on, whats so amusing?" she questioned crossing her arms and turning her body just slightly toward you.

"frown lines." you pointed to your own forehead and back to hers with a small smile as her cheeks flushed red. "oh." she was quick to relax her face, though as you chanced another look toward her a few minutes later you smiled seeing the scowl right back there again.

"shut up i can't help it, this stresses me out." leah knocked her knee into yours and crossed her arms over her chest. "why? have you given up football for a budding tennis career?" you chuckled as she mocked you and pulled a face.

"no. but i know what the pressure is like to play a sport at this high a level, and how hard you are on yourself for every little thing. even without the eyes on you here they'll be thinking about the media, fans, family, everyone is just watching and waiting, hoping you mess up or do something dumb they can rip you apart for." leah retorted as your face softened a little at her words.

"yeah i sort of understand that." you agreed, feeling not too dissimilarly when you walked a runway. "maybe i'll come to your next show and kick a football at you." leah commented casually as your head snapped toward her, the cheeky grin all you needed to know she was messing about as your eyes rolled and a small smile tugged at your lips which you quickly corrected.

"i saw that." "you're getting heatstroke. only you would wear a three piece charcoal suit in the middle of summer." "summer? have you seen those clouds? i'll put a tenner on that we don't even get through the next set before a rain break."

and annoyingly enough of course leah was correct, the day wrapping up as the skies had opened and an icy wind was whipping around the air, nipping and pinching at every scrap of flesh it came into contact with.

you nodded along with a polite smile, chatting with a few people as you were longing to leave, the cold chill setting into your skin as goosebumps appeared and your arms were wrapped tightly around you.

finally their own car arrived and they bid you goodbye, a sigh of relief leaving your lips as you checked the eta for your uber and saw it wasn't too far away.

"see i told you it would rain." you jolted as soft material settled over your shoulders, turning around to meet a familiar smile.

"don't. you're going to get yourself sick if you stand here shivering like an idiot." leah cut you off before you could even say what she knew you were about to, hands knocking away your own which tried to shrug off her suit jacket she'd draped over you.

"thank you." you admitted with a smile, leah nodding and checking her phone as you tried to ignore just how good she looked. "try not to get it wet, its not actually dad its dior!" the blonde smirked as you playfully rolled your eyes.

"got any plans for tonight?" you made conversation as the pair of you stood side by side, leah shaking her head and shoving her hands into her pockets, rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet.

before you were able to stop yourself or think it through the words were tumbling out of your mouth with a mind of their own.

"do you feel like a dance?"

a dance had been putting it mildly as you moved and swayed your body to the beat, bass so thunderous it pumped and shook the floor beneath you.

taking leah as your plus one you'd arrived to the party you'd been invited to, the blonde shocked to say the least as you'd dragged her into the large warehouse where it was taking place.

it had all started off tame enough, finding a table of your friends you sat down with leah by your side, the blondes charming demeanor taking over as she found no issues holding her own in conversation with them.

then someone had appeared with a round of shots, and well it all seemed to go downhill from there.

which hours later is what had head to the liquid confidence flowing through both yours and leahs veins, her body pressed against yours as lights pulsed around you only showing flickers of her face every now and then.

a familiar urge starting to grow in the coil of your stomach you grabbed the defenders hands, placing them on your stomach and pushing your ass back into her, leaning your head back on her shoulder and feeling her nose tuck into your neck.

“i think you’ve forgotten i know all of your tricks pretty girl.” leah laughed, lips grazing your ear as you strained to hear her over the thumping music engulfing the pair of you.

reaching up and tangling a hand in her hair you pulled her closer, lips kissing at her jaw and feeling her own hands begin to wander as your teeth tugged at her earlobe.

“and I think you’ve forgotten i know all your weaknesses, captain."

that was the final nail in the coffin, a small frown creased into your features as you felt her pull away and worried if you'd misread the signals you thought she'd been giving all night.

but all of that was blown to hell and back as her hand found its home against the back of your neck and she pressed into you again, leading you out of the mass of sweaty bodies on the dance floor.

a grin was plastered on your face as she snagged her suit jacket off the back of her chair and grabbed your hand with her other, pulling you with her toward the exit.

"hi." you smiled as the fresh air hit you, the pair of you wandering away from the drunken fallen soldiers littering the exit, leah pulling your body into hers as you hid yourselves around a corner out of sight.

"hello." she grinned back, hands falling either side of your face as your hand grabbed the back of her neck, finally pulling her mouth to meet yours as the pair of you melted into one another.

"this is a bad idea right?" you mumbled against her lips feeling her nod. "terrible idea." she pulled away momentarily, chest heaving and face flushed pink as you tangled your hands in her blonde locks and she grinned.

"so, your place or mine?"

~

"jesus christ leah." you exhaled shakily, rolling off of her and running a hand through your hair, struggling to catch your breath as you closed your eyes for a moment and felt her body vibrate with quiet laughter beside you.

"you still with me?" you opened them to see her hovering over you, cheeky smile on her lips as you nodded. "that certainly didn't sound fake." her smile morphed into a smirk as you pushed her and she collapsed back into the pillows beside you.

"that was what that was about? proving a point?" you struggled to get out, coming down from your fourth orgasm in a row. "no! well not the first three anyway, but that one? yeah that one was personal." leah confirmed cockily as you reached a hand over to gently slap her cheek, feeling her lips kiss at your palm with a chuckle.

the pair of you had barely made it through her front door, hands burning and twitching as you'd done your best to keep them off one another in the excruciatingly long uber ride back.

"fuck me." leah had exhaled as you wasted no time dropping to your knees in front of her the moment you'd crossed the threshold of the bedroom, tugging at her pants as she clumsily fumbled with her belt.

"i'm trying to." you'd grinned up at her making her eyes roll as she tangled a hand in your hair, having started off pleasuring her first and reaping in the moans you drew from the older girl while your face was buried between her legs.

then things had moved to the bed and leah wasted no time reminding you that just because you struck first she was the one in control, and what felt like hours later here you were struggling to return to earth.

"i should go." your body shifted back into autopilot as you'd finally caught your breath, sitting up and pushing your hair to one side of your head as you covered yourself with the blanket and leaned down to rummage through the pile of clothes on the floor for your own.

"or you could stay." you froze at that, time seeming to stand still as leah tried to push down the nerves which consumed her following her statement, fidgeting with her fingers which were hidden beneath the blanket.

“you never ask me to stay.” you still hadn't moved, arm slung over the edge of the bed and your dress in hand, this uncharted territory quite terrifying as you had no idea what would come next.

“you never seemed like you wanted to.” you sat up at that, looking down at her with a slight frown. "you never seemed like you wanted me to." you quipped back as leah sighed, running her hands down her face and flopping them onto the mattress.

"i didn't think i did." she admitted quietly, glancing up at you as you looked on curiously and nodded for her to continue. "i thought this was just casual hook ups. then you called me that morning from that guys house and hearing how upset you were made me worried, more worried than i would be for someone i didn't care about." she sighed, avoiding looking at you now.

"then we came back here and you showered and wore my clothes and we hung out and it felt good. i thought maybe we might be able to explore something more than just hooking up but..." she trailed off as now you looked away and bit the inside of your cheek.

"but then i left." you finished for her as she nodded. "why didn't you ever answer when i reached out afterwards?" leah asked as you shuffled back to lay down again beside her.

"well when i called you that morning i thought it was just auto pilot. but then you were so helpful and sweet and we did hang out which was different but not in a bad way." you paused to think over your next words.

"then i woke up and you were holding me which felt...good, and that scared me. we've never been intimate in a non sexual way and i guess i just assumed it was a reflex for you since you were asleep, because every time we'd sleep together-" you were stopped as leah cut you off.

"-i'd throw your clothes at you and expect you to leave." the blonde admitted, the two of you sharing a look and a small smile, cheeks flushed with color.

"yes. then i panicked because it felt good and different and weird, and i assumed you'd not share those feelings and just break things off anyway, so i broke it off first to save myself and here we are." your hand moved closer to brush against hers, a silence falling between you.

"so.." leah trailed off, her leg moving next to graze yours. "so..." you echoed, finger stretching to trace a line down the back of her hand.

"would you want to stay over then?" leah broke first, head turning to face you as you noticed the obvious worry in her eyes at what you would say.

"okay." you agreed, corners of your mouth tugging upward as her eyebrows raised in clear surprise. "but you’re making me breakfast in the morning.” you declared, leahs laugh echoing around the room.

"deal. jam on toast it is!" she teased, a warmth spreading through your body as her hand moved again to sit on top of yours, her fingers linking and sliding around your own, the blonde raising it up and placing a soft kiss to your palm again.

"well for me. just plain bread for you right?" you quipped back, catching her off guard as you leaned in and pecked her lips, darting back away before she could return the gesture with a twinkle in your eyes.

“a fun fact you’ll grow to love is i am a terrible chef.” leah admitted as now your laugh filled the room, shuffling closer and turning on your side to face her as she did the same, feet nudging yours apart to slot her leg in between yours.

“and what else should I know?” you smiled, pointer finger of your free hand tracing absentminded lines across her face. "mm well i eat a plain ham sandwich before and after every game, i am a huge star wars nerd, i love country music...and i would really like to take you on a proper date." leah finished with a smile that had you reeling, cheeks heating up even more.

"do the tips of your ears always go red when you're embarrassed? how have i noticed that before thats adorable?" leah cooed and tugged at them as you whined and leaned forward pressing your face into her shoulder.

"leave me alone." you grumbled, pulling your head back onto the pillow and resuming tracing the curve of her jaw. “i think you’re working backwards, I don’t normally sleep with women on the first date.” you teased, green eyes rolling playfully.

"well I don’t normally sleep with women i date.” she smiled charmingly for a moment before the realization dawned on her she'd not quite said that right and she frowned.

“no that came out wrong i meant i-" you didn't let her finish, pressing your lips against hers with a laugh, your mouths moving together in perfect harmony.

"shut up. i'd love to go on a date with you.” you promised, pecking her lips a few more times and melting at the way her face lit up. "yeah?" you nodded. "yeah."

"now something you'll learn to love about me, i've never seen a single star wars movie." you confessed, leahs jaw dropping in disbelief as she sat up so quickly it made you jolt in shock.

"what are you doing?" you questioned confused as she pulled her body away from you, rolling out of bed still completely naked and rushing around her room.

"you, are getting a movie education." she pointed to you threateningly, disappearing into her closet for a moment.

"right now? leah we just had sex i'm naked!" you laughed, wincing as a bundle of material hit you in the face, pulling it away and holding it up.

"oh this is the darth vader guy right? luke skywalkers dad?" you realised who was on the shirt as leah stopped her rushing about, stood at the end of the bed staring at you in disbelief.

"that is like the biggest plot twist of the franchise how on earth did you know that?" "leah...vater in german literally means father!"

"have you always been such a know it all?" leah scoffed as you rolled your eyes, sitting up and tugging her shirt over your head, reaching down to find your underwear.

"i'm making popcorn, get comfy!" leah called out as she darted out of her bedroom. "leah at least put some pants on!" you laughed at her naked form flitting around the kitchen.

"well another fun fact for you to know pretty girl, wearing pants is actually banned in this house."

[envy-of-the-apple]

Moon Starves Sun (FULL VERSION)

Dark!Gojo Satoru x reader

Word Count: 5.8k

Part one: Sun Eats Moon

Part two: Earth Kills Moon

(Warnings: forced relationship, implied nsfw content, implied noncon/dubcon, dark content, implied baby trapping)

When Satoru's close like this, he can hear your heartbeat. 

It's been a while. Ten years. An entire decade. Everything about this is different, yet so familiar. He feels like he's finally reached the shores, feeling the warm sands underneath his feet. Like he's been given his favorite food after being starved for years. Everything melts. Everything except for you. 

He'd like to stay like this forever, listening to your rabbit heartbeat, feeling your soft skin, but for your sake, he pulls himself off you. Lying on a wooden desk probably isn't that comfortable. 

Your eyes are shut. Your breathing is shallow. You're so pretty like this under the moonlight. Your clothes are barely hanging onto your body. He can see every mark he's left on you. Part of him wants to make more, but he'll let you off the hook for now. He's nice like that. 

"Still with me?" 

Your eyes flutter open. You don't respond, but at least you're not crying anymore. He can work with that. 

"C'mon, pretty girl," he says, voice soft, "let's piece you back together." 

The belt left lines on your wrists. He'll kiss them better later. For now, Satoru collects your clothes and heels from the floor, placing them on the desk. He helps you reclasp your bra, runs his fingers on your arms when you finish buttoning your blouse. It's a quiet affair. Every so often, he'd catch your eyes. You don't let yourself linger for long. Satoru finds that a little cute. 

You say nothing when he wraps an arm around your waist, guiding you out of his office. Maybe you're still dazed, still gathering yourself back up, because you don't struggle as much as he predicted. You try to leave his grip when the two of you reach the lobby. He's quick to stop you. 

"Where, do you think you're goin'?" He grips your wrist when you take a step away. 

You look at him, eyes shimmering like water. 

You swallow. "My apartment. I—I need to go back—" 

He clicks his tongue, bringing you back in. 

"We can get your stuff later." He tells you with a grin. "let's just go home, tonight. I'm exhausted." 

You open your mouth. Satoru waits. You say nothing, and he thinks you're starting to get it. 

The moon is a dusky red tonight. Satoru thinks it's an ugly color. 

☾

If Satoru could describe you in one word, it would be: predicatable. 

Normal, boring, a speck in the crowd—none of these are bad things. Just like how much of the universe is nothing, you're an empty void, too. Not everyone can be like him. From the minute he was born, Satoru was destined for greatness—a prodigy, heir to a millionaire conglomerate, the Sun itself. His life isn't written on his forehead for everyone to read. 

You are the exact opposite. Completely unassuming. He practically knows everything about you without even having to ask. 

Like how Satoru can instantly tell you've never been over to a boy's room before. 

You've probably never even been in a relationship before him, either. Even before he managed to corral you into his arms, you were always so annoying about the other things like school and friends. Though, you don't really have much of the latter anymore. His fault, Suguru never fails to remind him. 

He watches as your eyes linger over his shelf: the numerous trophies and awards. You're still standing meekly in the corner, still garbed in your school uniform, clutching your backpack. He has to roll his eyes at how obviously you're trying not to look at him. 

"What're you waitin' for?" He finally asks. You jump, eyes flitting over to find him before you find the floor. He resists the urge to roll his eyes again.

It's not like you two haven't done shit before. You sucked him off twice now, and he's finger fucked you against the bleachers. You should really stop being such a prude. 

"C'mere, pretty girl." 

You comply, dropping your bag, making your way to the bed. When you look at him from beneath your lashes, warily expectant, Satoru feels a thrill rushing through his body. 

He's always been impatient. It's in his nature to take. He nips at your mouth, eager to taste your soul from your soft lips. Soft. Everything about you is so soft—Malleable beneath his fingers. 

Satoru didn't explicitly say what his plan was, but you aren't stupid. He can tell you know what's about to happen when you stiffen in his hold, turn to stone within his grip. He would've allowed it if you hadn't gripped onto his shirt, pulling yourself away from his feasting. 

"Satoru?" You whisper, still leaning away. "The door...?" 

Annoyed, he glances over. His room is open. It shouldn't really matter. 

"It's fine." Satoru tells you. "No one's here." No one's ever here. 

You still look panicked, hands gripping his shirt. Satoru finds that adorably pathetic. How helpless you are. How that's all because of him.

He's sure to make a big show of it. Satoru gives a dramatic sigh, slumps his shoulders, but eventually pushes himself off the mattress to push at the door. He even clicks it shut. He's too nice, sometimes. 

"Happy?" You nod, you don't look very relaxed but your shoulders have dropped a bit. 

Satoru doesn't feel too guilty pushing you down, not when you're already in his bed. He isn't known for his patience. He tastes your skin, leaving marks when he can: teeth bites. He pushes you down down down down so he can sink his teeth into your flesh.

You're asleep and under the covers by the time he's done. The moon's out too. Satoru watches it, largely unimpressed. It's so tiny, a sliver of glowing white. 

And then you shift, turning ever so slightly, enough to catch his attention. He should probably kick you out and send you home. That's what he usually does. When he gets into bed with you, draping his arms around your limp body, he convinces himself it's because he's tired and waking you up would be too much of an effort. 

He lets himself enjoy your warmth; it's nothing like the cold glow of the moon. 

☾

Sometimes, even Gojo Satoru wonders if he's dreaming. 

Sometimes, life is too perfect for him to realize it is real. Everything falls perfectly in place, fitting together like those jigsaw puzzles his caretakers used to distract him with halfheartedly. 

You're in his kitchen, chopping vegetables. 

It had already been a few weeks, but he still wasn't used to this. You, being in his home, in his kitchen, in his bed. Satoru thinks he's masking it well, but his mind is still reeling, it's a difficult adjustment. 

Not a bad one. 

It's like he's been drowning for years and he can suddenly breathe when he sees your toothbrush next to his. It's like he's been stabbed and waking up to your sleeping face is the aloe. It's like he's been suffering through a blizzard, and you cooking in his kitchen, humming a song he doesn't know, is the warm sunny day. 

Things have changed since he brought you home. His home doesn't feel incomplete anymore. As though the apartment itself has agreed that this is where you belong. There are more clothes in his closet, more shoes by the door. The space is ever so slightly less empty and it fills him with tangible relief. He can cook a meal, but it's still nice coming home to something warm already made. 

It makes Satoru wonder what things could have been like, had it not been taken away from him. 

You flinch when he wraps his hands around your waist, nestling into the space in your shoulder. You hadn't heard him come in, apparently. Regardless, you don't linger, fingers hesitating before resuming your task. He finds this part of you adorable. Ignoring the thing that makes your heart race, as though he'll just fade away into the shadows. 

It's his ego that makes him slink into your warm skin, making sure you know he isn't going anywhere. 

"Smells good," he says. 

You nod, pushing away the bell peppers in favor of the onions. Unlike him, you acclimated extremely well. It'd taken nothing to lightly push you to add more and more stuff from your apartment to his. You quietly moved from one setting to another. He remembered this trait of yours from high school. Go with the flow. 

Though, perhaps, it was less out of genuine apathy. Satoru doesn't have to say what will happen to you if you refuse him. He doesn't have to throw lectures about his family and the influence he has on you. He likes that you aren't stupidly brave. He likes that you're meeker, quieter. You pick your battles. 

But he thinks he'd like to see you crack, just one more time. 

"Hey," he says, "let's go out for dinner tomorrow night. There's this restaurant just out of town that has great shrimp cutlet." 

He expects you to nod, like you always do whenever he decides to do something impulsive and meaningless. Instead, you bite your lip. 

"I can't." You mutter after a minute of silence. "I have work. Mr. Higuruma just closed a deal and—and I think I'll be coming home later and later this week." 

Home. It's enough to make his heart flutter. It's the first time you've called the apartment that. Your words almost make him forget about the second thing you said.

Higuruma. The lawyer guy with dead eyes. Satoru remembers him. He always looked at Satoru like he was a child, too stupid to do anything. He never liked how the guy looked at you. Besides, he was way too old for you, never mind that you were taken. You were always taken.

"Oh, right." Satoru gives an exaggerated sigh, fully leaning on you. "Work. What a shame." 

You nod, clearly thinking the conversation is done with. Satoru wasn't so charitable. 

"Y'know, you don't really have to work. Not anymore, pretty girl." His grip on your waist tightens ever so slightly as he pulls you towards his chest. Your hands freeze. The knife glints in your fingers. 

"I make plenty of money. You should just stay home. That way, you don't have to work shitty hours." 

You stiffen underneath his fingertips. He's disappointed when your skin turns frigid. When he peeks over your shoulder, intent to look at your face, there's a nervous smile twitching on your lips. 

"I don't think that's a good idea..." you trail off hesitantly. 

"Hm?" He tilts his head with faux confusion. "Why not?" 

The knife moves up and down, as though you can't decide whether to place it back on the cutting board. Satoru realizes it's your way of fidgeting. 

"It...it would just be unprofessional to leave when everything is so hectic." You finally decide on. 

Satoru scoffs. "So? Who cares. I'm sure everything will work itself out. Just rely on me, pretty girl." 

You don't like the answer, but you don't make a comment on it. Satoru just watches you rotate the knife in your hands. He wonders if you want to use it on him. Slice at his neck, leave him out to bleed on the pretty tile floor. Cut straight through his heart, ending it quickly. 

Or would you like to carve out his eye and keep it as a souvenir? He thinks he'd happily let you. It sounds romantic.

You don't do anything. Instead, you pull back your shoulders as if you're physically ready for war. 

"'Toru," you say gently, softly, and it works in his eyes, "I...can't let you support me like this. It's not right. It's not like we're married or anything." You laugh, like it's a joke. Satoru doesn't cave. 

"I mean, not yet." Satoru rocks you back and forth in his hold. "But gimme' some time to shop for a ring, okay? It needs to be perfect for my perfect girl." 

You follow his movements. He can see your mouth twitch out of the corner of his eye. Your eyes get glassy. 

He knows he's terrible, but he really wants you to crack. 

"You're right, Satoru." You say, "I'll put in my two weeks tomorrow." He grins in delight. 

"That's a great idea, baby." Satoru kisses you on the cheek.

Right, you pick your battles. 

☾

Satoru tells you he loves you, and you're gone, not even three days later. 

He breaks and shatters into pieces he'll never be able to put back. Each day without you is torture. He feels like a corpse, just going through the motions. His clothes feel looser. His skin doesn't feel like his own anymore. Every time he looks in the mirror, he sees someone he barely even recognizes. 

It's like you left with his heart. 

No, you ran away with his soul. 

One day, you were Satoru's, safely tucked underneath his arm...the next, you just weren't. 

His parents don't acknowledge it beyond casual disgust. Every time Suguru talks to him, Satoru can barely comprehend it. Days pass by. Everything reminds him of you. His bed feels emptier; he hates it when he reaches out to the space you used to take up and finds it cold. Your locker remains untouched. Nothing is ever the same. 

Satoru tries looking for you, but you're untraceable. No social media, no friends left to tell where you went, not even your fucking parents know where you are. 

You left him. 

You left him to rot. 

Denial comes first. It can't be. You wouldn't. You wouldn't fucking dare. Anger seeps in the next. For weeks, Satoru can only imagine what he'll do when he finds you. He'll break your legs this time. He'll squeeze your neck so hard that your head pops. He'll kill you over and over again until your corpse is begging to be forgiven. And he won't ever stop, because you're Satoru's. 

That doesn't stay for long. He feels himself get weaker day by day. Food tastes like dirt on his tongue. Any of his earlier vices are gone. 

He misses you. 

Why wouldn't he? You were his everything. 

Like all things, it passes. You aren't there to fuel the flames, so the fire wanes in his chest. The ache in his heart gets smaller and smaller. Things keep him busy. College. Then, his new position in the office. 

Ten years pass. He’s forgotten what you look like. But he remembers parts. Every so often, he sees a flicker of you within someone else. Your eyes are on another woman’s face. Your lips on a girl's smile. It irritates him to no end. It’s even worse when he starts seeking them out, keeping those parts of them for just the night. 

Sometimes, if he closes his eyes, he can still hear your voice—what he thinks is your voice—soft, needy Toru Toru Toru. 

“Gojo, sir?” 

He blinks. Ijichi stands in front of him. Satoru looks down at the meticulously crafted pages. 

“Mr. Higuruma needed you to sign this,” Ijichi lifts a paper filled with bureaucratic bullshit he pays other people to understand.

Why did Suguru take off now? 

“Sure sure,” Satoru says, “I’ll get it done.” 

Ijichi shifts nervously. “Well, it’d be best to finish it right now, Sir. His paralegal is just about to leave the building.” 

Oh, right. The lawyer’s assistant. Gojo could never get a good look at that person, but the assistant resembled a shaking deer to him at most times. He’s not even sure if they’ve ever talked to each other, but he always found the other a bit odd. Big eyes. A shaky expression. 

It was a little annoying to look at. 

☾

Some executive was throwing an office gala, and since he is Gojo Satoru, he needed to come along. 

And since you are Satoru's, you're dragged along too. 

Honestly, the only upside to this is you and that new dress he bought you. A velvet turquoise dress that he can't take his eyes off of. The gold jewelry draped across your neck makes you even more delectable. But his favorite part of the outfit is the shimmering diamond ring. 

The ceremony hadn't been anything extravagant. He'd just booked out one of his favorite restaurants, ordering lobster and sweet wine. He remembered hearing his heartbeat when he bent down on one knee, opening the elegant ringbox, like an oyster revealing its pearl. Looking back, he didn't know why he was so nervous: it's not like you'd say no. 

"What do you think of it?" He asked when you were back in his bed, bare from everything except that glistening ring. 

"It's pretty." You spoke, perfectly nestled in his chest. 

He feels in his heart when he hugs you, a small kiss in your hair. You say something, but he can't hear it; he is too preoccupied with feeling you in his arms. It's still so new, even after all these weeks. It's the anxiety, knowing at any second you could leave and he'd be nothing. He won't allow that, he can't. 

"I thought about something else, y'know?" He speaks quietly in your hair. "Ropes, chains, maybe. I could keep you here, forever. But—but then I realized how sad you'd get. I couldn't go through with it." 

You give no reaction. When he tilts your chin up to get a better look at you, your eyes are glassy. 

"You get that, right?" 

You nod. He's really too nice, sometimes. 

He spends the entire evening with you, tucked away in a corner, away from prying eyes. Just because he has to be there doesn't mean he has to be sociable. Every time someone walks up to him and you, a drink in one hand, he resists the urge to bite their head off, feigning politeness. He complains about their lack of decorum to you multiple times throughout the night, his head resting on your shoulder. You pliantly sit there, listening and nodding. 

About ten minutes after the last board member left, someone else walks up. By then, Satoru's patience has mostly declined. He peers over with disdain before he can really process who he's seeing. 

"Suguru!" He waves over. 

You stiffen, and Satoru remembers you haven't seen him in ten years. 

Suguru walks over with an easy smile on his face. He's nicely tanned, and Satoru is reminded of the pictures he sent over of the Maldives. Maybe that's where the honeymoon should be. 

"Had fun slacking?" Satoru asks with a grin; Suguru shrugs. 

When his eyes meet yours, he feigns delighted surprise. Suguru speaks your name with practiced shock. It's imperfect, only Satoru can see the amusement dripping from his fangs. 

"Long time, no see!" Effortlessly, Suguru corrals you into a hug. You follow, giving into the cold touch of affection before pulling away back to him. 

"Hello, Geto." You say when you're rightfully by his side again. "It's nice to see you again." 

Suguru laughs, light and airy. "You as well!" He looks at your hands, tilts his head. "Oh? Congratulations, you two! When's the date?" 

"Eh, we'll figure that out later." Satoru gives a quick kiss on your cheek. "Everything happened so fast, y'know? Us reuniting and everything: It feels like fate." Suguru's eyes flash. "Let's not rush this. We'll take our time." 

Suguru nods along thoughtfully. He's looking right at you, and you stare right back. Not used to feeling left out, Satoru is quick to intervene. 

The conversation is light, two long-time friends reuniting after a long spell. You stay quiet like decor, settling into Satoru's side. Suguru doesn't acknowledge you after that. 

"We gotta' go. It's getting late." He eventually says, tugging you along. 

Suguru gives a pleasant smile. "Of course, of course. We should catch up sometime." He directs this at you. You give a strained smile before Satoru leads you off. 

"Suguru." The man turns. Satoru grins. 

"I loved my gift. Thanks, man." 

Suguru's smile is catlike. 

"You kids have fun." He calls out right when Satoru's dragging you away all over again. 

You're silent. Not in the way you usually are, pliant and cute. You're thinking. He gives you a nudge. 

"What's goin' on in that pretty head of yours?" 

You shake your head. "Nothing." And then you say, "He's changed." 

From your view, Satoru supposed that's true, but really—

"Nah." Gojo shakes his head. "He's just dropped his act." 

Satoru's hand was wrapped around your waist when you two ran into him. You hadn't noticed him yet, eyes fixed on the floor. The lawyer hadn't changed since the last time Satoru saw him. That dead expression, those creepy eyes. Higuruma's eyes flit over your figure, before he finds Satoru's. 

He stares. Satoru stares right back. Something gives, and the lawyer calls out your name. 

"How are you?" His tone is cool, and this is another reason why Satoru can't stand him. The guy has no tells. He's just a talking robot. 

Unlike you, fidgeting by his side, practically vibrating with nerves. 

"I'm fine, sir." Your smile gets more painful to look at by the second. 

Your voice earns you a tired smile, a mild pinch of humor. Higuruma shakes his head, waving you off. 

"No need for formalities. We aren't at work." His smile drops just a bit, as he watches you for a bit more, eyes flickering to your hand. "I was...surprised when I saw the announcement. I didn't know you and Mr. Gojo were involved." 

Satoru grins, making himself known like a shark in the water. His grip on you tightens. 

"Oh, you didn't tell your boss 'bout us, baby?" He looks down at you with cruel mirth, pinching your cheek. You wilt. "We go way back—highschool sweethearts. Lost contact for a couple years. It's actually thanks to you we were able to find each other again. We'll send you the invites." He presses a kiss to your hairline. 

Higuruma hums at that. Satoru expected jealousy in his eyes; he's even more upset when he finds none. 

"I'll be sure to save the date." 

Then he shuts Satoru down completely. 

"I heard about your resignation. It's sad to see you go," Higuruma says. 

You nod, but you don't look at him. "Satoru and I talked about it, and we decided it's best if I focused on other things." 

"Very, very busy, this one nowadays." Satoru interrupts. "Between wedding plannin' and all that."

"Is that so?" Higuruma says dismissively, "in any case, you already knew this, but I've begun preparations to start a new firm." He reaches into his wallet, pulling out a card. "I always thought you were good at what you do. If you ever want to get back into the industry, call me." 

You take the laminate slip with a quiet thank you. Satoru feels blue turn into red. 

When Higuruma slips into the party, Satoru tightens his grip on you a little harsher than necessary. He's dragging you through the halls. Behind him, he can hear you stumbling over your heels, begging him to slow down. He knows he should care, but he doesn't. That damn lawyer. Those dead eyes. Mocking him. 

"Did you fuck him?" He asks when his anger has reached a high enough peak that he presses you against the wall. 

Your eyes are wild, flitting back and forth. He'd your expression a little cute if he wasn't feeling like a furnace, at the moment. 

"No. I—we never." You say. "Mr. Higuruma was my boss. And—and he's married—" 

"Really? 'cause you're precious 'Mr. Higuruma' was eyeing you up and down like he's already seen what's underneath." 

"'Toru." You plead. "Let's—let's just talk about this at home. Please? Let's just go home." Home. You said that word again. If he were a better man, he'd melt, but he's not. 

"Shut up." He spits out. "Hike up your dress." 

You stare at him. Then, you try to smile, like he's making a shitty joke. It wavers on your lips. 

"It's...we're still in public." You whisper and it's so cute you think he'd actually care about that. "We—we can't...we shouldn't—" 

"Baby." His voice drops, as he licks at your neck. "Pull up your dress, get rid of those panties. Otherwise, I'm just gonna take it off myself." 

He doesn't need to explain anything further. You already get what he's saying. Right now, Satoru doesn't care if you leave this building with your clothes intact. 

He thinks the worst part is that he knows he's being unreasonable. He's backing you into a corner where you'll have no choice but to surrender, and he knows that, but he keeps thinking about those man's eyes and how he looked at you and it was just all so much. 

He'll apologize to you later, with flowers and shiny gold earrings. He'd give you the world; just be good for him now. 

He just needs his fix. So just be good for him now.

☾

When Satoru discovers it's been you all along, he feels like an idiot. 

In a pathetic way of defending himself, he convinces himself there's no way he could have recognized you. You're so different compared to your high-school self. 18-years old, fresh-eyed, naive. The you now is all grown up: a mature voice, a new hairstyle, clothes he'd never even think you'd wear. 

It also didn't help that he couldn't even see your face since you turned away every time he looked at you. 

Embarrassing. He's just glad Suguru wasn't here to call his blunder. 

He thought about it a lot. He spent an hour in his office, pacing around, doing nothing but thinking and thinking and thinking. Part of him wants to corner you already. He can already feel your rabbit heartbeat on his fingertips, the look you always had in your eyes when he was right in front of you. Part of him wants to ruin your life the same way you ruined his. He wants to tear you apart, piece by piece. Leave you in tattered pieces. 

But he can't do that. Satoru still loves you. 

You left him a hollow shell. Broken. Tainted. There are pieces of him he still can't find. He should hurt you. He's hurt other people for doing less. But they weren't you. Even after all those years, he's never quite stopped loving you. 

But he wants to sate his bloodlust, just a tiny bit. 

His perfect opportunity comes where he, the lawyer, and you are all sitting in one of the waiting rooms. The lawyers explaining something, possibly about the ongoing case. Satoru doesn't really care. Besides, this is what Ijichi's here for. 

He waits until everyone is quiet. You're unassuming. By then, your shoulders have lowered, like you think you've gotten away with it 

"Hey," he says, "do we know each other?" 

The other two don't bother, but you stop completely. The pen in your grip shakes. Satoru resists the urge to laugh. 

You timidly glance up like you're still delusional enough to think there's a fifth person he's talking to. Satoru has always been told his eyes are like two suns: bright and intense. He lowers his glasses. You wilt under the solar flares. 

"Hm?" He prods, enjoying the way you shrivel. "Have we?" 

You swallow, glassy eyes flicking from side to side. Finally, you clear your throat. 

"No." You mutter, voice barely a whisper. "I don't think we have." 

"Are you sure?" To intensify the magnifying glass, he leans closer, like he's examining you. "'cause you look really familiar." 

To his delight, you chew on your bottom lip. He can imagine biting it until it's bloody and raw. He stops just when you're about to shatter completely. Breaking you too soon would take the fun out of it. 

"Oh, wait. I don't think that was you." He relents, pulling back and he can see the relief ooze over your face. "I think I got you mixed up with someone who interviewed here a couple months ago. My bad. Maybe you have one of those faces." 

You nod, eager to take the out. 

"Yes," you quickly say, "one of those faces." 

How adorable. You haven't changed since high school. 

He's usually not this obvious, but Suguru isn't here to berate him about it and it's not like anyone else will get on his ass. The women he brings in are his usuals: tall models with full lips and perfect bodies. Satoru parades them around like expensive jewelry. He wants to see you seethe in envy, stew in it. He wants you to see what you abandoned. 

But you don't do any of that. You just sit there, like the dutiful little workbee you are, right by your boss's side.

And then, you give one of them your jacket. Satoru can't stand it wrapped around her waist like she fucking owns it—own you. She wears it so flagrantly, like any token from you shouldn't be worshipped and coveted. He hates it. He hates it. 

"I've never done this in an office before." She squeals when she shuts the door behind her. "So, how do you—" 

"Get out." 

The girl pauses. What was her name again? Satou was too pissed to give a single shit. 

"Um, what?" 

"What, you deaf or something?" He waves her off as if he weren't seething. "Get out." 

"Oh," she says, blinks, and then she takes a step back. 

"Wait." Satoru stops her. 

"Take that off." He points to your jacket. She does it with zero complaints. When he tells her to drop it on the chair, she follows that too. Reluctant expectation. Kind of like you. Maybe that's why he was initially invested in her. 

He only takes the fabric after she's gone. It's soft underneath his fingertips. Nothing designer, but good quality. When you're finally underneath him again, he'll buy you better clothes, all the jackets you want. 

He needs you. He can't wait anymore. 

He needs you, whether you want him or not. 

☾

Satoru wakes up to something crashing. 

It's faint, obviously coming from the bathroom. Not the best way to be woken up. He remembers the first few nights he brought you home. He'd hear you crying in your sleep, choking on tiny sobs. It was the sweetest little thing, like a whimpering puppy. 

These noises are a little more concerning. 

He yawns, sliding out of bed. You didn't bother locking the door. You didn't even close it all the way, either. A sliver of light comes from the crack before he pushes it open. 

"Baby?" He calls. You don't answer. 

You had knocked over a caddy. Toothbrushes, hairclips, soap dispensers, perfume bottles were scattered all over the floor. You're curled up in the corner of the bathroom, huddled right next to the tub. You seem physically okay, no blood, no bruising, but he can't see your face. And you're shivering. 

Satoru's about to call out to you, when he steps on something. He looks down at the tiles. 

A positive pregnancy test. 

"I'm not keeping it." Your voice is hoarse, like you've been crying for hours. "I'm not keeping it." 

"Pretty girl." He coos, trying his best to keep the glee out of his voice and failing. "Let's not worry 'bout that, right now. C'mon, let's get you off the floor." He reaches for your hand. You smack it away. It stung. 

When you look at him, eyes bloodshot and brimming with angry tears, Satoru's heart skips a beat. He feels like he just trapped a wild animal, making it pace in a corner. Any wrong move could result in his hand getting bit off. It's scary. 

He's finally cracked you. 

"Fuck you." Your voice shakes and wobbles, but it's loud and you're clear. "Fuck you. You're a sick, twisted man-child. You ruined everything. You ruined my entire life and—and now you—" 

You're cut off by his giggling. It sounds psychotic even to his ears. He's beyond caring. You flinch when lifts your face up, forcing you to look into his eyes. He's smiling so hard it hurts. 

"Yeah, I did that. I ruined you. I ruined your entire fucking life. For me." He stresses, squeezing your face so hard you try to pull away. "But I had to. You—you wouldn't be here if I didn't." He sighs, pressing your body to his. "I need you."

You're both huddled on the bathroom floor, captive and lover. He's clutching you to his chest, smiling, nestling his face in your hair. You don't say anything for a while. 

"I'm not keeping it." You whisper. "I'm not. I wouldn't stand it if it ended up like you." 

It's spiteful. You're still in that phase where you think your venom can hurt him, as though he'd see your blows as anything but blessings. Satoru thinks to his own childhood. Where he was given everything, lathered in gold and silver. Yet, the house was always cold. But you were always so warm. 

"That won't happen." He tells you. "'cause you're here." 

Your anger has dwindled to smoke. Maybe you've finally realized how crazy he was for you. 

"Please let me go." It's not a beg. It's not even a request. 

"I can't," he honestly says. 

"You won't." You correct him. 

He smiles in your hair. 

"No baby," he says, "I can't." 

If you ran away again, if you escaped his claws, he'd probably die. Drop dead, rot on the floor. He needs you. Even more than he needs food, water, and oxygen. You won't understand that. You've never been in love before. 

You don't fight him. If anything, you sink into his hold. He's there to catch you, heart soaring. You lean into his chest 

"I hate you." You whisper. His heart beats a little faster. It's probably the first time you've ever been so honest with him. 

God, he loves you. 

"I hope our baby has your eyes," he says. 

"I hope our baby looks exactly like you." 

You say nothing, but when he leans down to kiss you, you finally kiss back. You're cracked, and your essence is ready to be molded in his image, just like he's always wanted you to be. 

If Satoru is the Sun, then you must certainly be his universe, the plane in which he rests, because there would be no existence for him if not for you. 

[totalswag]

hi i love your writings!!!

may i request something angst with y/n and drew pls? like maybe they broke up but still love each other and they haven't told their families about it. so one day they have to meet again at Liliana's birthday party and they have to pretends? but it's getting angst when the party ended and they have to separate again

i still love you ⎯ DREW STARKEY

authors note firstly, thank you lovie! you don’t know how much that means to me. i’ve written angst before but not a lot. this one is gonna hurt so grab tissues if needed.

taglist ⤕ if you would like to be notified every time i post you will type in your username then be all set.

summary attending a birthday party with your ex as a couple after you broken up without telling anyone in your circle.

warning(s) breakups, angst, crying, and feelings for each other.

Drew and you ended your relationship four weeks ago. Never thought your relationship with him would end so suddenly. You have been an absolute reck since. Both of you still love each other deeply.

Family and friends don’t know about the break up—they’d be devastated hearing the news. Just thinking about it gets you overwhelmed with emotion. Drew and you have had small conversations about it but can't pull through yet.

Tonight is Liliana’s second birthday, everyone in Drew’s family will be there celebrating at his younger sisters home. Drew and you were invited prior to the breakup—you’ll be attending as a "couple."

This is gonna hurt you both.

“Okay we act like a couple then we part our separate ways, yeah?” Drew says with a hint of sadness in his voice, enough for only you to hear.

Pulling the front string of your hair behind your ear, looking up at his tall frame, “ye-eah that’s fine.” Your voice started cracking.

The two of you walk up the driveway of the house walking hand in hand like you typically would when you were together. Suddenly, Drew’s hand gently placed itself on your lower back—thumb rubbing gentle circles.

The sensation of his touch on your skin sends millions of goosebumps down your spine; you feel comfortable in his embrace—you are home. When you enter through the back gate, your face lights up as you see his family.

"Oh my gosh, it's so glad to see you both here" Brooke, Drew's younger sister, smiles running over in your direction with a drink in her hand.

After your brief reunion, you moved to see Drew's other family members. Seeing them made you joyful and sad at the same time because you knew you wouldn't see them as much after this. 

Liliana raced over to Drew, arms raised, hoping to be hoisted up. She giggled as he kissed her face. "Stop it, Uncle Drewy," she says, tilting her head back.

Watching the two interact is the cutest thing ever. Liliana looks over her shoulder, gasping, and reaching out to you—taking her in your arms, hugging her, and spinning her around.

"You look so beautiful today," you tell the two-year-old in your arms. She glances up at you, reaching for your necklace before wrapping her arms around your neck.

"You too auntie!"

Drew and you stood near to each other during the party—kissing your cheeks, hugging you close, resting his hand on your thigh—all the things you used to do. You could feel each other's distress.

Your entire body was screaming. You and Drew were dating for over four years. This split is still fresh for both of you. You just wanted to stay close to him the entire time, and he felt the same way.

People asked you how your relationship was going and when Drew was gonna get down on one knee. Just typical questions that've been asked before. No one suspected anything off between you two.

The drive back to your house didn't take long. Drew and you were making small talk about the party and seeing Liliana's face when she opened her gifts.

Drew parked the car and switched off the engine, but neither of you made a move to exit. The streetlights provided a soothing light inside the car, highlighting the stress on his face. He finally ended the silence.

"I hate this, you know," he continued, his voice tight. "Pretending like everything's fine when it's not."

You gulped hard, tears forming in the corners of your eyes. "Me, too. But what options do we have?"

He turned to face you, looking into your eyes. "We can try again. Maybe we just needed some time apart to think things through."

"I still love you," he said softly, his voice breaking.

Your heart tightened at his words, and you clutched his palm tightly. "I still love you, too. But love isn't always sufficient."

By this point, your voice had begun to crack. You just wanted to jump into his arms one final time and have him tell you everything would be fine.

The hush that ensued was deafening. You both understood the reality, even if it was difficult to accept. You slowly and reluctantly drew your hand away and sought for the door handle.

"Goodbye, Drew," you replied softly, exiting the car.

You headed towards your apartment, your vision hazy with tears. Just as you approached the door, you heard him yell your name. Turning around, you noticed the pain imprinted on his face, which mirrored your own.

"Goodbye," he murmured quietly.

He stared at you as you walked to your front door. He wanted he could walk in the house with you, but you never asked. Turning around and waved your final goodbye as he slowly drove away. 

Tears stream down your cheeks as you close the door. You couldn't hold back the tears. You hoped everything had never happened in the first place and that everything would have been okay. However, not everything goes as planned.

All those memories you made together are flooding through your mind as you walk yourself to your bedroom.

One day you'll find your way back. One day.

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[denwritesandcries]

Fall(ing for You) – S.C

Pairing: sam carpenter x soft goth!reader

Summary: Sam is certain that Tara's new quiet friend may turn out to be Ghostface, unfortunately – or not –, that friend is you.

or, it takes the help of tara and a dog for sam to finally come to her senses.

Word count: 6,0k.

Content: scream 6 but without the killing, r's 23, cursing, wingman tara ft. yr dog, jokes abt r being ghostface, fluff, pining, sam falling first AND harder, silly movie references.

Note: hey guys, It's been a while since I've written for scream but I rewatched it recently and finally got some inspiration again! I describe the reader a little more in this but it won't really affect anything if you choose to ignore it.

English is not my first language.

Tara made a new friend.

Sam still isn't sure exactly, but the only plausible explanation for the way Tara has been acting lately is that her sister met someone interesting enough to keep her attention so that she gave everyone a break from her tantrums and reckless behavior since their new start outside of Woodsboro.

Now, that could be a good thing, it had been months since the kids started college and they were all doing relatively well. Mindy had Anika, Chad had Ethan and also there was Quinn, even though she wasn't very close to anyone. Tara should have someone too.

The problem is that Sam has no idea who this person is. Tara just won't tell her.

You see, Sam understands that she might have been a little too protective of her sister and that this made Tara's behavior become defensive towards her. Her new therapist – after she got rid of that quack – is helping her work through that, okay? But curiosity and worry were eating away at her insides. The curfews, the tasers and pepper sprays, and especially the ID checks were all important to keep them safe, dammit! Mindy and Chad had no problem with it, and it was only after all the appropriate measures were in place that Sam could breathe and let these new people be a part of their lives. Not knowing this so-called friend, let alone who they were, was driving her to the brink of a breakdown.

She was trying to give her some space, probing with subtle questions here and there and the most she got was an eye roll and ‘It’s just a sophomore I met at the film club, haven't you said I should try to be part of something that didn’t involve frat parties?’

Well, at least it wasn’t a boyfriend, given the lack of dreamy sighs, giggles into the phone and late-night escapades. That was good. They already had enough problems to deal with and a new relationship so quickly was the same as asking for a ghostface to go for them again and Sam hadn’t been back in Tara’s life long enough to know how to deal with this part of being a big sister yet.

Sam had understood that she wouldn’t meet this mysterious person for a while, at least until her sister’s tantrum had passed, and between two shitty jobs and trying to keep a structured life being responsible for a bunch of teenagers in the big city, she couldn’t find it in herself to insist on the subject any further and get the risk of causing a fight. She thought it would be forgotten.

Now just imagine Sam's surprise when she came home one night after a long, exhausting shift, expecting to eat the leftover pizza she had hidden in the fridge and fall into a deep sleep, only to be knocked over by an noisy and strange dog with a piece of pizza in its mouth as soon as she opened the apartment door. Her pizza.

“Koda!” Someone called. Someone unfamiliar. It wasn’t just the dog, there was a stranger in her house.

Sam’s hand instinctively moves to reach for the taser hidden in her jacket when a pair of black-clad legs show up in her vision. Does Ghostface work with dogs now? She wonders in confusion for a moment, and has given up on the voice changer?

The only thing stopping her from tasing this potential killer in front of her is the pure bewilderment and Tara’s laughter filling the room.

“Oh my god,” the figure bends down, picking up the dog who turns out to be a very excited puppy, the pizza falling from its mouth and onto her shirt, getting it all over her, “I’m so sorry.”

It’s a girl, a face she’s never seen before, looking completely mortified.

“Hey, Sam,” Tara stops beside her, a barely hidden tone of satisfaction in her voice, “This is my friend. I thought you’d like to meet her.”

It's safe to say that Sam didn't like Tara's new friend at all.

“You didn’t think about telling me you were bringing someone?” Sam exclaimed, rubbing her temples wearily, “Especially that Lydia Deetz project right there? I almost shocked her in the middle of the hallway!”

Quinn shifted from where she was leaning against the counter in the small impromptu meeting and didn’t bother to hold back her laugh, “Nah, I think Tara would fit that role better.”

“Quinn,” Sam groaned exasperatedly.

“If I had told you you would have said no,” Tara shrugged.

“Yes! Because we don’t know her!”

It was quite awkward sitting on the couch in their living room less than five feet away from the kitchen and being able to hear every word spoken as if you weren't right there, with your messy dog ​​happily chewing on the sock on your ankle.

This wasn't the turn you expected your night to take when you decided to accept Tara's sudden invitation for a movie night, visiting her off-campus for the first time since you became friends.

You met her at the start of the school year, the day she showed up for a film club meeting before anyone else arrived, well, anyone except you. She seemed completely lost and suspicious, even though she was clearly struggling not to show it, which made you like her right away.

Getting attention and starting conversations was never really your thing, this whole club thing wasn't either, honestly, but you ended up being one of the last older members to join with most of the others having recently graduated and the responsibility of looking after the new freshmans gradually fell on you. Most of the time you kept to yourself, preferring the behind-the-scenes side of things to participating in the long-winded debates of high school teens obsessed with slashers and making Stab parodies, but you noticed the way Tara seemed desperate for any sense of normalcy beneath her laid-back facade and the whispers of murder that haunted her.

You took what seemed like a rabid kitten under your wing and ended up cornered by the personification of a Doberman because of it. Talk about doing good deeds and stepping out of your comfort zone. What a joke.

Tara’s older sister, Sam, if you got it right, stared at you with narrowed, suspicious eyes – just like Tara when you first approached her – towering over your figure that tried to look smaller than it actually was on the couch, as if she was trying to learn every little hidden detail about you.

“So…” you began hesitantly, wanting to break the awkward silence that had ensued, “you have such a beautiful house.”

“Aren’t you too old to hangout with a freshmen?" Sam cut in coldly, one eyebrow perfectly arched in distrust.

You sighed, this conversation sure started off very well, “I’m 23,” you cleared your throat, “Tara’s in the same club as me, and I’ve just been helping her with some classes I used to take when I first started here.”

You hear Tara’s distinct chuckle, clearly amused by your frustration, which doesn’t help your situation much. What a wonderful friend, indeed.

Sam hummed with fake indifference and the other two housemates watched the exchange intently, eyes darting between you like they were at a tennis match, amused by the sight of Sam trying to intimidate the poor unsuspecting twit that you were.

A great friend, for sure. Ugh, this is why you don’t sponsor obviously troubled kids.

It’s not like Sam Carpenter is really intimidating or scaring you out the way she seems to want to, she has bags under her eyes and a greasy pizza stain on her shirt and you’re a grown woman, for God’s sake! It’s just that it was extremely embarrassing to cause a scene like that, especially with someone who you really wanted to make a good first impression.

Interacting so much socially lately was becoming relatively exhausting and you expected it wouldn't become a thing, as you were feeling a bit overwhelmed by everything. You hoped this would be the last big meeting you had for a while. Tara had told you a lot about her sister, mainly about how it was a pain in the ass to always have someone hovering over her, but it was something you never took seriously because of the way she sounded when she talked about it, too loving for someone who hated the situation so much. No, Sam was important and Tara had insisted that you meet her after doing the same with the twins just a few days ago. You had carefully planned how it would happen, what clothes you would wear and what you would say and now your chance to make things right was ruined, the words seeming to have escaped you in a flash. You were reserved, quiet, small in the midst of so much hustle and bustle, used to watching everything go by from the safety of the shadows. Being a mouse was easy.

“Is that all you have to say?”

Less easy when caged with a lion.

“Look,” you tried again, silently squirming as your pup start sniffing Sam’s combat boots furiously as you stood to pick him up, “I really didn’t want to cause any trouble or misunderstanding, Tara called me earlier while I was walking this little guy and insisted it would be okay if I came over for a movie. I can leave now if you want to, I’m really sorry for… well, all of this.”

You noticed Sam's expression became conflicted, as if she didn't know exactly what to make of you standing in the middle of her living room without showing any threat and wasn't used to people actually listening to her on sight. Still, she wasn't going to give up that easily.

“Great,” Sam nodded, her voice sounding less firm, “go then.” She pointed directly at your dog, now sitting at her feet with its fluffy head tilted to the side in a guiltily innocent manner, “And make sure to take that pizza thief with you.”

(You swear he looked personally offended.)

“What? No!” Tara seemed to realize that her little game could backfire and came out from behind the counter in your defense.

“Tara—”

“Come on, Sam, it's movie night!” She stomped her foot loudly, “I refused the invite to Jason's party for that, we were marathoning all the Texas Chainsaw Massacres!”

You don’t even have to be good at reading people to know that Sam had lost that fight the moment Tara looked at her with pleading eyes, knowing that there was no way to blame her for simply doing what she asked.

That didn’t stop Sam from rolling her eyes and huffing in irritation.

“Fine,” she practically growled, shifting her attention back to you, “But I’m gonna keep an eye on you, so you better not act all smart and keep that fleabag away from me.”

“His name’s Koda.” You pointed out, before softening, “And thank you, I promise I’m not gonna—”

“Shush.”

Sam was sure this was all part of an act of yours, just the first step to infiltrate their lives and pull the rug out like others have done before, because no one in their right mind would sit quietly next to someone who nearly shocked and threatened them in many ways just a few minutes ago.

Especially if that someone is burning holes in your head with their eyes, like she's doing now.

Sam watches shamelessly and intrigued, shooting daggers at your figure as you lean back with Tara babbling enthusiastically between you, your puppy completely knocked out on her lap, oblivious to the sounds of death and fake blood spurting from the TV. She notices the way you effectively ignore her, responding to Tara’s remarks with genuine interest, even if your voice doesn’t match her enthusiasm.

You remained quiet beyond those moments and the tiredness along with your lack of sudden movements made Sam feel secure enough to leave the room and finally take a shower – because along with everything she never saw much fun in these movies like Tara –, warning you that it was better for everyone to finish the night when the movie ended.

(She also forced Quinn to take her place on the couch and promise to scream if anything happened. You didn't comment on that either.)

Sam only falls asleep when she hears the sounds of goodbyes coming from the living room and the door house being closed, finally relaxing after all the interaction, deciding that it was enough. You could have been at her house, but that doesn't mean she would let you come over again.

You come back, because of course Tara doesn’t give a damn about Sam’s warnings about being careful around strangers – incessantly claiming that you’re not a stranger – and there you are at the next game night that Chad insisted on making a tradition.

At least there’s no sign of the shirt-destroying furball this time and there are pizzas smelling good on the kitchen counter.

“‘Sup, Sam!” Chad greeted loudly as she walked through the door, waving excitedly from the couch, “We’re playin’ uno!”

Her eyes landed on you, who waved at her with a small, tight smile, awkwardly sandwiched between Anika and Ethan, the way you stood out among them so comical that Sam suppressed a snort. She decided to join in without much protest, someone responsible still had to watch you, after all.

Sam wouldn’t admit to anyone, absolutely anyone, that she was enjoying the evening, listening to the heated exchanges as everyone got competitive. Strangely, she noticed that you didn’t try to engage much in the conversation, just like the other night, seeming happy to just be there. She thought you had been withdrawn then because of her behavior towards you, but maybe you were just shy.

That made her raise an eyebrow, Tara didn’t usually embrace introverts. Actually, she had always been pretty popular even before Sam left, if she remembered correctly, so this was new. She felt a small piece of curiosity spark inside her instead of more mistrust as she expected and it disconcerted her.

“The whole point of the 7 card is that you're not supposed to talk, man!” Mindy throwing chips at Ethan interrupted Sam's flow of thoughts.

“This rule is stupid! The manual doesn't even mention it, read it for yourself!” Ethan shuffled the cards wildly – ​​everyone at the table had seen his hand – pointing, “And you’re talking too!”

“Whatever! Nobody reads the fuckin manual to play uno, Ethan!”

Tara groaned, “Guys, just shut up and everybody buys a card.”

“But that’s not how you play!”

She decided to abandon the game and all the fuss in favor of getting some air and a slice of pizza and was surprised to find that her favorite was still untouched, which was a miracle in such a crowded house.

“Tara said that you liked this flavor,” your voice coming from nearby startled her and Sam saw you gesture to the box in front of her, “My treat, for the other day.”

She cleared her throat hesitantly, “You didn’t have to.”

“I did,” you dismissed with a wider smile, “My dog ​​left you without dinner.”

Sam didn’t respond, but you leaned against the counter next to her anyway, picking at the dark polish on your nails casually, listening to your friends arguing in the background.

“Get tired of the crowd?” Sam asked, deciding that ignoring you wasn’t an option since you clearly weren’t leaving.

“Yeah,” you agreed, shrugging with an odd laugh, “I guess I’ve had enough socializing for one day.”

Sam wasn’t sure why she didn’t just send you away then, seizing the perfect chance to dismiss you like she’d wanted all along and avail everyone's presence to remind that you weren’t welcome, but that strange spark flared in her and made her smile unconsciously, more sincere than the previous tense ones.

“Oh, I know what you mean,” she agreed slowly.

Your expression brightens in surprise, as if you expected a cold, blunt rejection or maybe a slap (probably both) and Sam feels a bit guilty by it. Sighing, she waves you towards the apartment’s tiny balcony, silently inviting you to join her, to which you respond with a firm nod as you watch her unwind the chain on the sliding door – they keep everything locked up tight now – and follow her.

Sam swears she’s not doing this to be nice or anything, all she wants is to repay you for your politeness, that’s all.

The night breeze is refreshing and sends pleasant shivers down your arms and shoulders as Sam leans against the railing and the two of you fall silent. It’s pleasant, actually.

Sam takes a moment to look at you, like, really look at you for the first time since you met and her breath hitches.

Your relaxed features look cheerful and are well-emphasized by the makeup you’re wearing – she tries to search her memory and gets frustrated when she can’t remember if it’s the same style as the night you met – your hair blows a little in the wind and your clothes just fit. Every single thing about you seems to have been specially made to be this way, charming, beautiful.

Your elbow brushes hers in the small space as you lean in to better contemplate the dreary, empty New York sky and Sam’s skin is burning and she doesn’t understand why.

Sam didn’t realize, through all the haze of anger and suspicion and tantrum, until she was touching a pretty girl, that you were, in fact, a pretty girl.

Shit.

“You’re trying so hard not to like her that I’m getting embarrassed for you.”

It’s late. Everyone has already left, including you, who went early claiming you had to work the next morning. Tara should be in bed by now, but she’d be upset if Sam told her to do that, so she doesn’t say anything.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Sam dismisses, packing up the last of the leftover pizza to put in the fridge.

“But you do,” Tara hums smugly, stifling a yawn, “Just admit that you were wrong and that I’ve made a friend who’s not a potential serial killer. And that you might have a crush on her. I saw you two on the balcony.”

“It wasn’t like that,” she grumbles, “And I wasn’t wrong for being worried that you brought home a stranger without telling me, even if she’s not dangerous.”

“Ha!” Tara points out, “So you admit she’s no danger.”

Sam sighs tiredly, bringing a hand up to massage her temple, “She can keep coming over for movie nights or whatever if that’s what you're asking me.”

Tara cheered, jumping up from where she was sitting on the counter to finally go to sleep. She stopped just before turning the corner to her room.

“Seriously though,” she caught Sam’s attention, “You guys have more in common then you might think, that’s why I like her. I think you could too, if you get to know her better.”

“That’s impossible, Tar,” Sam says weary, looking at her sister with the most done expression, “I don’t ‘get to know’ anyone, I already have all the people I need in my life.”

“Maybe you’ll be surprised,” she shrugged, “It would be good for you anyway.”

Sam's approval was all Tara needed to make you a regular fixture in their lives and make movie nights an official thing. Sam usually walks in when they're in full swing, with the two of you deep in conversation about the completely random movie you decided to watch that day, and now she greets you back instead of ignoring like she did before and you look happier every time she does it openly.

She finds excuses to wander around the living room and kitchen when she hears Tara pause the tv for whatever reason, just so she doesn't leave you unsupervised in their house – it was still too early to rule out all the care, after all. It ends up making her feel kind of ridiculous, because, hell, she shouldn't have to make excuses to wander around her own house! But you guys talk during these moments, sometimes.

Sam learns more about you as time goes on, and she tells herself that it's just gathering information, that you're not friends at all, but she finds herself soaking up every bit of detail. What are you majoring in, how long have you been in town, if you live close to campus like most students or if you have roommates like them.

(Actually, when she thinks about it now, Sam probably sounded more like a maniac trying to find out where you live, but at least you didn’t call her out on it.)

Then movie nights are joined by study sessions that Tara insists on having as her first week of finals approaches, and you manage to convince Sam to let you bring your puppy too so he won’t be alone for so many hours and she can act a little more normal around you and have a conversation that doesn’t sound like a job interview. You tell her about the movies you like – which consist of more than just an extensive list of slashers like she initially assumed – in a loud and excited tone instead of your usual repressed one, and it stirs something inside her, which leads to several other facts. Your favorite color, what kind of music you like, what you do when her sister isn't dragging you somewhere, and why you decided to adopt a dog so young when you already had so many other responsibilities.

“He helps me not feel alone,” you replied, looking deep into her eyes, “my roommate graduated last year and moved out. I guess I couldn’t stand coming home to empty houses, you know? And he’s my guard dog, he takes care of me and I take care of him. The little guy might be small but knows how to do damage.”

She could relate to that, in part.

And then you start asking too, suddenly and Sam finds herself with a dilemma after so long avoiding your attempts to get to know her. She’d rather remain closed off.

But a trade isn’t a fair trade unless she gives you something back, is it? And you’ve been quenching her thirst for knowledge for a long time now, you gave her a lot.

So, during one night when you insist on helping her make dinner, she confides in you – somewhat reluctantly – that she really enjoys cooking, especially healthier meals. She doesn't look at you, nor does she say it clearly but still, you listen and Sam is surprised when she finds herself speaking.

“You really should ask her out.”

And of course, Tara is always close enough to raise an eyebrow with a knowing look at her on practically every occasion.

“I've told you already, it's not like that.”

“You're cuddling her dog right now.”

“Just so he stays quiet and doesn't disturb you two! Shouldn't you be studying, by the way?”

“Ugh, you’re so annoying.”

Sam can almost, almost admit that you're her friend too.

(Though she kinda wished it were a little more than that.)

Movie nights evolve into sleepovers, because Sam argues that it’s simply too late and dangerous for you to come back alone and she feels embarrassed – and guilty as much – when Quinn brings up that it has always been dangerous and she didn’t mind letting you go before, when she didn’t care about you.

Now there are some of your clothes in a drawer Tara set aside for you just like a colorful food bowl in the living room for your dog – Mindy jokes that it's theirs now – and there’s rarely a day that goes by where she doesn’t see you.

And when you don’t come over, Tara makes sure to remind her of how anxious she looks waiting for a knock on the door and how she lights up when you greet her first when you finally arrive.

“I swear that now she comes here more to see you than me.”

“You’re imagining things.”

“Yeah, sure,” she huffs, “And when are you gonna make a move again?”

“Never, Tara.”

Sam hasn't heard a thing about you in days. Tara said yesterday that you ended up getting really busy with a college project, preparing a presentation that, her sister quotes, 'needs to be perfect because public speaking is horrible and there's a big chance I'll embarrass myself.'

It's not that Sam asked, it's just that she doesn't text you often and Tara thought it would be convenient to talk about it out loud when she was on the phone with Mindy.

Anyway, it doesn't really matter, it's not like you two are close. You are Tara's friend. If it weren't for her, you two wouldn't even have a reason to see each other. There's no reason to be so stressed.

But she misses you anyway. She's having a shitty day at her shitty job and everything seems to go by even slower because Sam knows that when she gets home at night you probably won't be on the couch waiting with the soft smile she's grown accustomed to looking forward and if she has to deal with another group of rude teenagers she'll freak out.

The sound of the bell ringing at the entrance draws Sam’s attention back to the counter and she ends up face to face with the person who has been on her mind all day.

“Sam!” you approached with a tired smile, your dog wagging his tail happily on a leash in one hand and a paper bag in the other, “I was looking for you.”

You'd never visited her at work before, she didn't even know you knew where it was, having only mentioned it in passing, but there you were, with the smile she wanted to see and bags under your eyes.

“Hi,” she cleared her throat, feeling her face heat up. Damn, she looked like a teen girl with a crush, “I didn't expect to see you here, what, uhm, what do you need?”

You snorted at her flustered attending voice. Seeing her show any kind of nervousness was very unusual.

“Tara called me today demanding I get out of the house for a bit and ‘touch some grass’, so I decided to bring this buddy along, he was begging me for a proper walk,” you shrugged, “And she asked me to bring your lunch.”

Sam paused at that, Tara definitely didn't make lunches for her, much less go to the trouble of delivering them like that.

“...Thank you,” she accepted the paper bag you held out delicately, eyeing the package suspiciously. You held back a giggle when she looked at you again, “Anything else?”

“Oh, um,” you shifted your weight from one foot to the other, obviously nervous, “I’m taking Koda to the park nearby and I thought maybe you’d like to come with us. If you can, of course.”

Sam couldn’t really, it was still a few hours before her shift ended at the coffee shop, but she didn’t want you to leave without the promise of seeing you again.

“Of course,” she found herself replying instead, “I can meet you there in a few minutes.”

She knew she’d made the right decision when you gifted her with one of your warm smiles.

“Okay! Nice,” you nod, absently twirling your dog’s leash around your fingers, startled by the sudden, loud bark he lets out at the delay, breaking the oblivious bubble you were in, “Alright, I should go before he starts trying to jump over the counter.”

Sam barely hears the sound of the bell announcing your departure over how loudly her heart pounds in her ears.

It takes a lot of willpower and her last pack of good cigarettes to convince her insufferable coworker — who’d watched the whole thing with a bored expression and loudly chewing gum while cleaning the coffee machine — to cover the rest of her shift. He ended up ordering her lunch too, thinking it might be something special, only to complain when he was met with a sad peanut butter and jelly sandwich and a carton of warm apple juice. Tara really didn’t cook… but then why had she done that?

(She laughed at him anyway.)

“You owe me, Carpenter,” he grumbled, taping a note to her arm that had fallen out of the package.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever.”

Sam was out the door before he could change his mind.

Taking a deep breath of the damp autumn air, she picked up the yellow post-it note curiously, recognizing her sister’s handwriting immediately.

‘u looked so depressed lately that I

decided to send u a gift

DO something this time

good luck!!’

She knew. She fucking knew that smartass had set her up. Sam should have guessed it before. Tara would never let her get away with this without doing something with her own hands. At least she hadn’t brought Mindy into the scheme this time.

The park you had mentioned was more like a small square and with the rainy cold weather of the last few days, it was pretty empty. Sam could spot you without difficulty, sitting on one of the few benches watching the scenery and she made her presence known when she got close enough.

“Can he even sit still sometimes?” Sam asked, hands in her bomber jacket pockets, pointing with her chin at the dog playing alone on the grass. You moved a little so she could sit next to you and subtly moved closer when she did.

“It rained last night and he's a big fan of puddles,” you chuckled, “I guess he's just excited, we haven't been out much lately.”

He wasn't the puppy he'd been when Sam had first seen him a few months ago and the sight of him running around the trees chasing flowers and stray twigs was actually quite funny.

“He's so covered in mud that it looks like a bear.”

“Well, his name's Koda,” you pointed out amusedly, “I would have called him Pongo but he always looked more like a small bear than a dalmatian anyway.”

She snorted, “If you say so.”

Sam couldn't remember a time when she felt so relaxed, with the weight of your shoulder resting against hers, enjoying the weather of the early season, the ground covered in orange and yellow leaves framing your surroundings.

She couldn't stop the restlessness she felt inside her chest, watching your profile. Feeling warm inside, but also shivering with a terrible fear of ruining everything. Do something, do something, do something echoing like a mantra in her head.

Sam took a deep breath. She'd faced murderers before, for God's sake! She could be braver than that.

"So..." She coughed, "Tara set this up, you know? The lunch stuff and everything."

You turned your attention to Sam, raising an eyebrow with a confused look.

"She did?" You asked, "Why would she do that?"

It's now or never, Carpenter. Focus.

“She did it so I could see you,” she looked away, “Because I missed you. Because I…” She felt your hand reach for hers and noticed a fallen leaf on your shoulder.

“Because you…?” your voice echoed anxious. She could do this. She's going to do this.

“I—”

A loud howl scared the two of you and you turned to see Koda behind a pile of leaves, pupils dilated and jumping up and down.

“Oh no.”

“What?” She stammered.

“He saw a pigeon.”

You see, Sam is not a pet person. She has only had one guinea pig her entire life and only before her father left and a 6-year-old Tara let it escape from its cage never to be seen again – poor Darwin would always be remembered – she does not know how to handle dogs, much less big, excitable ones like yours.

Yet she grabs the leash from your hands when you finally reach your dog who won't stop barking at a tree and ignores your warnings that he is heavy and strong, Sam, it will end up dragging you away and tries to gently pull him to convince him to let go so you can get out of there. Because she is big and strong and she wants to show you that she can handle a mere happy dog.

He acknowledges her like she wanted and also drags her like you said he would.

This manages to surprise her more than the first stab wound she took, how one minute she’s standing still, telling your silly dog ​​to walk in a confident condescending tone, and the next she’s running at full speed through the trees and puddles of the park, your worried voice ringing behind her, as does your laughter.

“Sam!” you exclaimed from a distance, hands cupped around your mouth and dark red scarf falling from your neck, “You need to stop!”

She does stop, yes, but only after your dog has already circled her and Sam must be a ridiculous sight with a colorful leash wrapped around her legs and a dog panting with its tongue out next to her.

“Oh my god,” you lean in closer, unable to hide the amusement in your voice, “Are you okay?”

Sam huffed, feeling a strand of hair fall across her face: “A little help would be appreciated.”

“Sure,” you laughed, reaching out to carefully untangle it, “Maybe I should call him Pongo after all.”

She rolled her eyes: “Don’t mock me.”

“I’m not mocking you, it’s just cute.”

Sam opened her mouth to retort, only to realize how close you two were, with your hands resting on her shoulders to steady her and your faces just inches apart, your breath tickling her skin. You seemed to realize the same thing, tongue coming out to wet your lips, your gaze fixed on her mouth.

Do something. Do something. Do something.

She finally does something. She kisses you.

It's all a mix of sensations, she feels when you sigh, breathing through your nose in surprise and satisfaction, she feels where your hands tighten on the fabric of her jacket and tastes you, warm lips contrasting with the cold skin of your cheeks, with traces of coffee, lipstick and something else so undeniably you that Sam swears her heart might stop.

You pull apart hesitantly, breathing fast, noses touching, eyes shining, and she feels herself falling, literally. Your dog jumps on your waist, demanding to be petted, and you fall, taking Sam with you.

Landing in a pile of leaves is more uncomfortable than the movies make it out to be, but Sam can’t find it in herself to protest when you’re the one on top of her. She smiles and you laugh out loud. She didn’t mess up.

“You’re covered in leaves,” you say, running your fingers through her hair, “And your face is smeared with black lipstick.”

She scoffs, “I wonder who’s responsible for that.”

“He is,” you point innocently at the dog standing next to you.

Sam rolls her eyes, but cups your face with her cold hands to pull you close again, and the second kiss she gives you is just as magical as the first.

Tara doesn’t expect to find a dog taking up the entire couch for the first time in days when she comes back from Chad’s dorm after sending you off on a fake mission to find her sister. Yet, hours later, there it is, with one of the sneakers she forgot to put away when she got home from class stuck in his mouth and trails of mud and leaves across the room.

“C’mon, man, that’s not a toy!”

She hears a laugh and finds herself face to face with Sam, looking completely filthy despite the sound of the shower running in the hallway and Tara knows Quinn isn’t home yet. Oh.

“So, you finally did something?”

Sam nods solemnly, pointing to the dark kiss etched into her jaw.

“I did.”

[foolinafable]

the setup

Five Hargreeves x Fem!reader Synopsis: Five has a rather outrageous crush on his niece's tutor, so Lila and Diego decide to set them up by inviting her to their daughter's birthday party. Word Count: 1.7K Tags: Fluff, season 4, Crackfic, everyone knows they like each other but they are being stupid Note: sorry this took so long to come out, i had half written in august but only finished it now, not really proofread yet so mind any mistakes!

“You came!” the delighted voice of Grace Hargreeves shouted out as the girl bounded her way toward you. Enveloping you in a larger-than-life hug 

“Of course I did! I told you I would, didn’t I?” you questioned the girl, struggling to hug her back with her present in your hands. 

“Yes, but-” the girl started, not able to meet your eyes, embarrassed at her thoughts 

“But nothing!” you quickly interrupted her. “Now go play with your friends. I need to find your mom or dad and figure out where to put your present.” You shooed the girl away towards her friends. 

Luckily, you didn’t need to look far, Lila spotted you almost immediately after her daughter left you. The woman quickly made her way over to you with a large smile on her face, mirroring her daughters. She quickly pulled you into an excited hug before pulling away and taking the present off your hands. 

“So glad you could come, Grace had been asking repeatedly if her favourite tutor was coming.”  

“I’m her only tutor?” you questioned 

“That’s what I said!” The woman laughed, glee apparent in her features as she grabbed your hand with the one not carrying your present, walking you towards where all the adults were unfortunately stationed watching the children, some looking like they would rather be anywhere else. 

“Diego!” Lila called out to her husband, who quickly turned towards her, his smile widening when he noticed you stood next to her. He quickly hugged you in greeting before turning his attention to his wife. 

“Where did you put the pinata? Luther and I are going to set it up.” 

“Um,” Lila looked around, spinning around in a circle to survey the area when her gaze locked onto someone near the ball pit. “Five!” The woman called out, waiting for him to look at her before she continued, “Can you bring the pinata over? Thanks!” She quickly called out before rushing off, mumbling something about needing to get the cake.

The man in question quickly made his way over, holding a very familiar-looking piñata 

“Is that an east side piñata?” you questioned as Five handed it over to Diego, who looked at you with so much relief you thought you could've saved his life

“Yes,” he practically shouted in glee. “Yes, it is!” looking around smugly for someone, but you weren't sure who 

“You might need a bit of a heavier hand with that then. At my younger cousin's birthday last week, it took an adult to hit it for the candy to come out,” you warned the older man. He simply nodded, walking off to put it up, a large smile still present on his face, 

“Hi” the man you were left with almost whispered, believing that he would scare you off if he came on too strong. 

“Hi, Five,” you smiled in greeting, “I haven't seen you at the house recently. Been busy?” you replied. Truthfully, wanting to keep talking to the attractive man, 

“Yeah, sorry, been working overtime at the CIA, sure you understand” he smiled slightly at your attention to his lack of presence lately. Making him believe that maybe Lila and Diego were right about your reciprocation of feelings towards him

 “How has University been?” he questioned, wanting to keep the conversation going 

“Very good”, you respond. Hand on hips at his disbelief in your answer, shock evident on your face “Honestly!” you smile,

“I mean, I'm on Christmas break at the moment, so there’s not much to do other than tutoring.” You shrug your shoulders, trying to hint to the man that maybe the two of you could spend some time together. But before Five could reply, Klaus came bouldering over with Claire. 

“Five! Lovely to see you!” 

The man greets his brother, Klaus, you quickly learn from Five's reply 

“And this is?” Klaus asks, gesturing towards you when Claire whispers to him. 

Klaus “The tutor! We have heard so much about you!”

“Really?” you questioned, looking down at your feet in nervousness. “I didn't know Grace spoke about me so much.”

“Oh, not from Grace-“ Klaus began, a large cheeky smile covering his face. But he was quickly interrupted by the feeling of a hand on his gloved one, causing him to pause in alarm. When he was quickly dragged away by Claire, her eyes wide in alarm, while Five was glaring at him with such ire you could imagine Hades opening up hell for whoever was at the other end of it.

“It was lovely to meet you”, he shouted as his niece pulled him further away from you.

You smiled, a clumsy laugh tumbling out as you looked at Five, his hands covering his face in annoyance, but a clear smile was present on his face when he removed his hands, but before either of you could say anything more, a familiar head of hair came running towards you.

“How is the birthday girl doing?” you ask, ruffling her hair as she smiles widely at you.

“Amazing, but I would feel even better if you watched me go down the slide”, the girl replied cheekily, making a small scoff come out of her uncle's mouth at her words. 

“Well, we can't have the birthday girl not be at max amazingness, can we?” you teased as she led away from Five and towards the play area. An apologetic smile on your face as you left him, hoping that it wasn't the last time you would speak to him today.  

── ✧

You didn’t see the brunette again until much later, stood by the ball pit after having escaped the herd of parents asking you intrusive questions, you were sure you would’ve blown a fuse if anyone else asked why you were still single as you were ‘such a lovely girl.’ 

“Finally freed yourself from the lionesses, I see”, Five joked as he came to stand next to you, beer in hand. “It seems Klaus has not been so lucky.” You looked over to see that they had now set their sights on the boy crowding around him like paparazzi. 

“Remind me to stay clear of that side of the room,” you complained, hands rubbing at your temples in worry that they would begin to hurt “There's only so long I can handle being asked about my lack of boyfriend before I strangle one of them,” you admitted, not catching the man's smile at your words.

“Don’t worry, I'll protect you,” he proclaimed.

“Yes, I'm sure you will be much a deterrent to the herd of mamas,” you joked, laughing at his recoil, head shaking in amazement at your goading.

“You really know how to make someone feel good about themselves, don't you?” he teased 

“Clearly”, you smiled, sarcasm laced heavily in your response.

The balls in the ball pool quickly flew up as a man emerged from them, causing you to jump back in alarm as Luther popped his head up from below, a large smile on his face at catching you off guard, eyebrows raising slightly as he noticed his brother stood next to you. After a laugh, you spoke pleasantries with the man, trying to ignore Five's hard glare that he was directing at him. The younger-looking male sighed loudly, causing the two of you to look towards him, the eye contact made the man go red in embarrassment before clearing his throat, looking exacerbated. 

“I thought you were helping Diego set up the  pinata?”

“I was?” The larger man questioned, eyes wide as he looked around the party, clearly alarmed that he wasn't doing what Five had mentioned, scampering out of the ball pit when he saw Diego, but before he could make his way over, Diego called out for everyone to come over for the game so the three of you slowly made your way towards the growing group of children and adults. Five made sure to lead you over to an area with less noisy parents, making you smile in thanks as he grabbed you by the small of the back to lead you away when a parent tried to call out for you.   

To say the next few moments were a disaster would be an understatement, mirroring your earlier words as the pinata was from the east side no matter how hard Grace or her friends would hit the object, it wouldn't break. Luther, clearly wanting to make it up to Diego for missing the memo to help him, tried to use his strength to break the Pinata, and while the Pinata did break, so did the birthday cake. Bits of it went everywhere like a volcano explosion, covering all the guests, much to the children's joy and parents' horror. 

You now stood off to the side, trying to get any larger pieces of cake out of your hair, laughing at the furious faces of the other adults. When Five gave you a napkin, you smiled, letting out a quiet appreciation as you wiped at your face. Feeling that you had gotten enough off, you turned to the boy, laughing at his cake-covered face.

“Here,” you said, moving to wipe some cake off his cheek with the napkin, trying to contain your giggles, he smiled brightly as you moved away from him slightly, his own hand coming to tuck a strand of hair full of icing behind your ears and then regretfully retracting his hand

“Do you wanna get out of here? Maybe go to a coffee shop where my siblings won't interrupt us every few minutes?” he asked, fingers fidgeting with nerves. 

“Like a date?” you questioned, trying not to get your hopes up, smiling up at him, head tilting slightly to the left as you pondered his words.

“If you want” he replied pensively. 

“I do”, you quickly rebutted, smiling as the boy led you towards the door with a matching grin on his own face.

── ✧

“I told you he would ask her out tonight,” Diego spoke smugly, watching as his brother helped you put on your coat, his wife watching, annoyed beside him.

“I thought it would’ve taken him until our Christmas party.” Lila rebutted, clearly annoyed that she had lost

“But I suppose it is about time you won one of our bets”, she replied smugly, quickly lowering Diego down a peg as the two watched you and Five leave their daughters' birthday party, hands intertwined.

[dont-look-its-embarrassing]

To Be Seen

Azriel x Reader

This is my first ever one-shot or fanfiction type writing on here, so be patient with me bc it will be FAR from perfect or good.

This is purely self-indulgent bc again, I'm new at this and just wanted to write an insert or y/n type little blurb.

Summary; Being the best friend of Feyre when she was human, you regretfully got roped in and turned with her sisters as a tool for manipulation by Hybern. As the sister's find it hard to settle in claiming the attention of the two other bats, you attempt to make Feyre's and the inner court's life easier by flying under the radar and figuring it out on your own. However, are you really as unnoticed as you hope or is a certain shadowsinger entrapped by your caring and soft nature as his heart battles his mind for the third sister or you.

Warnings: None really, mentions of PTSD and anxiety, loneliness and self-help, slow-burn, slight angst with a fluffy ending, reader just wants to be seen but feels like she can't ask

Word count: 2,389

Pt2

The sound of a door opening broke you out of your thoughts as you sat in the drawing room in the house of wind. The gentle crackle of the fire Infront of you allowed your body to sit comfortably within the rather cold season and the book you were just reading sat loose in your lap. You haven't gotten used to your enhanced hearing yet as your now longer and thicker hair gently fell from where you had tucked it behind your ear.

"Y/n?" Your best friend's voice echoed into the room as her footsteps followed. A soft smile spread across your features as she came in, confirmed you where there, and plopped down ungraciously on the couch next to you. "Thank the mother you are here."

Her features where stressed, the worry written all over her face as she took your form in.

"What's going on?" You ask, hopeful to help.

Feyre let out a sigh as she let her eyes wonder to the fire Infront of the both of you.

"Nothing. Everything. I don't know, it seems that everything I do to try and help Nesta and Elaine seems to only make things worse." She rung her hands, a trait she picked up back in the human lands when she was nervous or upset. "It just never seems enough to make them comfortable or to try and apologize for everything that happened."

Your best friend's eyes slightly widened as she took her gaze from the flames.

"How are you? Are you doing okay?" The genuine care and concern oozing off of the female Infront of you reminded you of why you cared so much about your friend in the first place. When she was taken, you had searched high and low for her in hopes to get her back only to have her return happy and healthy with a loving man, or male, doting on her every need. You were ecstatic, and expressed yourself as so, even if it was with fae beings. When you and her sisters were taken, that happiness was put on hold to make sure that you are all where comfortable. Feyre's self-sacrificing nature did always drive you mad, even now when she was so close to being truly happy.

"I'm okay Feyre." She shot you a look, trying to dig deeper and call the bluff you made. "Seriously, I'm here with you and in an amazing place that I could only dream of with great people."

"A lot happened Y/n. A lot happened to Elaine and Nesta, but a lot happened to you." She was right, and it was weird for you to be so put together when the worlds of the other two were falling to pieces. With your more emotional and strong relationship with Feyre, you had been held captive with her sisters yes, but you also took the brunt of interrogation that the wicked king deemed necessary to gain any information of her court. You had put yourself in that position, you knew how awful she would feel about her familial blood being brutalized in such a way, so you took the heat. But, in the end, her sisters still took the change harder and refused to accept their new life, making everyone on edge and overexerting themselves to help.

With one look at your best friend's-tired eyes, you knew that she couldn't handle another burden. More like she shouldn't have to handle another burden.

The word tasted sour on your tongue.

Burden.

Shaking your head a small gentle smile graced your face, and you forced your features to emulate that same energy.

"I'm okay Feyre, really. Aside from some cool new power thing that I haven't figured out, I'm fine. " The breath she released could only register as relief in your mind as she met your smile.

"Okay, and we will definitely start working on that when we are all settled here." Her reassurance did little to reassure that it would be investigated. Again, with the two sisters gaining war altering abilities, your random energy (that had yet to manifest) would be put on the back burner until everyone else was settled. Again, the slight dismissal ached, but you understood the need for others to take precedence.

Giving a little nod, you two sit in silence for a bit just listening to the crackling of the fire and enjoying each other's presence. That is, until a wince rippled across your friends face and she slowly rose.

"I'm sorry, I have to go. I think Elaine is out and not talking to Lucien and it's a mess-"

"It's fine Feyre, go make sure they are okay." You assure with the same smile. Giving one last 'thank you, I love you' she was gone like the wind that howled outside the windows. The silence that followed her exit had the ringing in your ears become a bit to unbearable. Removing yourself from the couch, you travel down to your room and grab a quick change of footwear.

Today would be a good day to explore the town, or at least good enough to get your mind out of the dark slump of trying to acclimate to its' new body and abilities.

Making your way towards the door, a small flicker of shadow catches your eye.

"Hello?" You call. You know that Rhys is most likely with Feyre and Azriel is also probably there because of Elaine, so you dismiss it quickly after a moment, chalking it up to just a trick of the light.

Opening the door, the slight chill on the wind has a shiver run through you, but the sun quickly chased it away. Breathing a sigh, you look at the vastness of the stairs below you.

No time like the present.

Taking one step at a time and avid breaks when needed, you would rather not admit to yourself just how much time that trek took. However, upon reaching the bottom, the satisfaction that filled you outweighed the journey. Walking down the streets of Velaris, the bustling normality of the people filled you with ease. As your heels clicked against the stones below, your gaze just missed the little shadow that trailed behind your body.

Taking in the colors and vibrant people, the ease and happiness that covered their faces had the ache in your gut grow more and more. Your mind wandered to if you would ever be that happy and mundane. With everything that had happened so far, the familiar life in the human forest (although had its struggles) seemed like an ideal. It was the lack of routine, lack of knowledge, the newly sprouted life, the misplacement, all of it plus more. You didn't notice your breathing gain more weight and take longer to fill your lungs than it did at the house. You also didn't notice the little skitter of the shadow that had followed you as it raced away towards some unseen location. The heat in your body seemed to increase as the sight of a simple family loving and walking together entered your mind.

Would anyone love you like this?

You couldn't think.

Ducking into a nearby ally, the overhead sheets and covering allowed it to be shaded and darker than the streets 20 feet away. Even then, the darkness of the ally seemed to illuminate with your presence there. However, it wasn't the light, it was the lack of grasp of oxygen you could inhale and the strenuous shaking your body couldn't stop. The tears that fell without your knowledge burned their tracks into your skin and sizzled as they hit the ground. Your body gave way to the spasms that took ahold of you as your mind raced. Burring your head into your knees, you attempted to shut the world out and let your mind slow but to no avail. You wished the darkness of the alley would swallow you whole, allow the sun and light to escape you being seen just this once.

Almost as if your prayers where in fact answered, the light surrounding you died as the darkness of the ally surrounded you. Picking your head up to view what cloud or magical being answered your plea, your eyes were met with those of hazel crouching Infront of you.

"Azriel?" You hadn't met this male for more than a couple days ago. He was nice, offering to go with you places or chat every so often. You had a couple nightly talks with him where you shared some stories between the two of you. Nothing out of the ordinary though, you felt safe around him when he was near. Confusion washed your features and for a moment your brain stopped running in circles and focused on why the male might be in front of you in this very unfortunate situation.

"You're okay." His large hands had gently pried your head from between your own. He Slowly, as if not to spook you further, reached for your hands and took them in his own. As twisted as it sounded, the morbid scarring that littered his skin grounded you further and pulled you back to this moment and out of that forsaken cell and cold water. "Focus on me, breathe."

The ease of your breath returned as the seeming dark cloud that surrounded you peeled back revealing that same dampened alleyway. However, the slight char on the walls and burns on the ground was distinct enough to question. Looking around, more of those marks surrounded you but faded as it got further from you. Opening your mouth to ask, a quick look from the male had you hesitant as he shook his head.

"One thing at a time sunshine." You nod, ignoring the small butterfly that hatched in your stomach at the nickname, but the pain in your head from the little outburst brought you back to reality. Bringing your hand up to caress the muscle between your eyes, Azriel scanned you from head to toe checking for any other possible injuries. "Let's get you back to the house, okay? Have Madja take a look at you and maybe give you something to help process."

Although the beginning of his statement was directed at you, for an answer, the second part was mumbled more to himself.

"Okay." The short response was all you could get past your lips as he sent you a small smile and opened his arms.

Looking at him questionably, he held back a chuckle.

"Have you never flown?" Shaking your head, no, you had never flown before. Winnowed? Yes, but never in the arms of one of the three males residing in the same house at you. The aspect of Azriel being your first had a little flush cover your cheeks. He approached you carefully, scanning your eyes for any aversion to being touched or space invaded. If you didn't just have a literally breakdown in the middle of Velaris, you could've sworn there was a deeper emotion residing in his eyes.

Guilt?

Worry?

Longing?

You couldn't place it and decided not to keep the process waiting. Taking a step towards him, he kept his arms spread out to accompany your space against his.

"Wrap your arms around me." His voice was lowered with your closer proximity. Slowly you brought your arms to wrap around the back of his neck. He waited until you settled there before moving to hoist you up into his arms and walk slightly out of the alley to give his wings more room to take flight.

While doing so, you couldn't help but settle into his warmth as it felt nice against our colder frame. With all the adrenaline wearing off, you were left shivering.

"Make sure to hold on." He noted, which was all the notice you got before suddenly you two were no longer on the ground. Tightening your grip instinctually, you shut your eyes as you could practically feel the male smile at your nature.

"How did you get down there anyway?" With the loud wind it was hard to hear, but again due to the lack of space between the two of you his voice rang clear.

"I walked."

"Down those?" Without realizing the easygoing atmosphere he created, you had peered open your eyes to look down at the stairs you both were currently soaring over. Only a brief look however as you still had some human tendencies and did have a slight aversion to heights.

"Yeah." You nodded and went to shut your eyes once more to finish out the flight, but as you did you caught sight of a new look on the spymaster's face.

Pride.

Landing as softly as possible, Madja was already there waiting for the two of you to arrive. Without thinking, you blamed it on the spymaster's shadows (but grateful they were there). Feyre also stood to the side of her, worry wringing her hands again and you let out a sigh of defeat.

Stumbling out of Azriel's arms, he steadied you, giving a once over before his high lady had shot him an inquiring look. She looked at you shortly after.

"You are never to lie to me again Y/n, you hear?" Her chastising voice was filled with love and worry all the same.

But before you could open your mouth to respond with a thousand reasons why you might, a certain male beat you too it.

"Don't go too hard on her, admittedly we have all been a bit busy to check in." You both glanced back at the male in question as his shadows wrapped around him in song. He has said it was so to promise his attention to fix the problem, which warmed your core.

"She will be okay Feyre." Meeting eye contact with him, he had sent you a small nod of his head and smile before disappearing into the dark.

Your best friend looked at you in question, but a deeper thought was spinning in her head. However, the little throat clear of the healer nearby jumpstarted the next 24 hours of care and therapy from your best friend and the best healers in Prythian. The whole endeavor couldn't tear your thoughts to a certain inner court male and the way his arms felt around you.

Maybe you would be okay.

[spideybatsy]

Late Night

Summary: GN!Reader gets a cleaning job working at Wayne Enterprises when a certain billionaire playboy develops an obsession with them. Pairing: Bruce Wayne x GN!Reader WC: 3K Warnings: being watched without knowing, mentions of erections, nothing too serious. Notes: Can be read as any batsy you’d like, I personally picture Bale bc I’m a slut for him <3 This is the first chapter in my new series! I haven't written in a year, so be kind Masterlist

The wind pressed against your sweat slick skin as you stepped into the shadow of Wayne Tower. A shiver rolled down your spine, half caused by the weather and half by the ravenous butterflies in your stomach. Starting a new job is never easy but God, you have never needed a job as much as you need this one.

The renewal of your lease brought a steep increase in rent at the same time as your boss announced he was closing the business. You couldn’t really say you were surprised, the bakery was definitely a front for something nefarious, why else would the GCPD come in every other week?

It was a shame, really. You loved working at the bakery, especially during those quiet moments when you could just sit there and watch the world go by. God knows you’ll be rushed off your feet now.

Cleaning wasn’t your first choice, nor was it your second. Hell, it wasn’t even on the list. But you were not in the position to be anything but grateful when your friend mentioned an opening at their work. The hours weren’t the best but the pay was surprisingly good.

You walked into the building and were immediately shoved by someone sprinting to the lift. Taking a deep breath, you regained your bearings, straightened your shirt, and headed for security. You’d been in the building only once, for your interview, but figured you’d need some sort of pass to get into the actual offices. 

The security man who served you was disarmingly attractive and you couldn’t help but blush as he ran his eyes down your figure. His hair was a dirty blonde, pushed back and behind his ears. 

“First day?”

“That obvious?” 

He chuckled, before asking for your name and looking you up on the system.  “I’ll just call your supervisor, Emily, to come down.” 

“Thank you.” The two of you fell into an almost awkward silence. “How, uh, long until your shift finishes?”

“I’m on a morning today, so I finish at 12. How about you?” 

“Well, I’ll usually be doing the 4 till 10 shift but they wanted me in earlier today. So, I'll finish around 3.” 

“Too bad.” 

“Why’s that?” 

“Well, I would’ve loved to take you out for dinner.” Were your cheeks on fire or was it suddenly just really hot in here? “Maybe it’ll have to be lunch instead.”

You opened your mouth to respond but was interrupted by Emily calling your name. 

“There you are, I’ve been waiting for you!”

You flashed a sorry smile at him and rushed over to your friend's side. 

“Hey, what’s that guard's name?” Although you knew he couldn’t hear you from here, you still whispered.

You cringed as Emily started to turn back, quickly reaching out and stopping her.

“I think that’s Russell.” She whispered back, “Why?”

“He asked me out on a date.”

“Really?” Well, no more whispering. You simply nodded your head, following her into the lift. “You don’t even have your access pass and you’ve got the men drooling. You dirty stop out.” 

“I haven’t slept with him!”

“Yet.”

“I’ll be telling HR you called me a slut.”

“Hoping they’ll sleep with you too?” 

You couldn’t help but laugh, pushing her slightly with your shoulder. As the numbers on the lift drew higher, the two of you settled down. Joking with your friend was one thing but you needed people here to take you seriously, even if you were just the cleaner.

“Are the people here nice?” You weren’t expecting your voice to sound so… small.

Emily looked over at you, affectionately bumping your shoulder. “Yeah, most of them are lovely.” 

“What about the others?”

“Fuckable.”

The lift doors opened and filled the floor with the sound of your combined laughter. 

—-

“And down here, you have Mister Wayne’s office.” You followed Emily down the hallway, looking into an office and making eye contact with an older man. You gave him a quick smile and was pleased when he returned it. 

“That’s Lucius Fox, he’s really the boss.”

“What about Bruce Wayne?” 

“What about him?” Emily stopped at the front of the last door.

“Well, it’s Wayne Enterprises, isn’t it?”

“Why don’t you ask him yourself?”

You couldn’t help but gasp as she threw the door open, jumping to apologise to the aforementioned man. 

Only, he wasn’t there.

Emily laughed, walking further into the room. “He’s hardly here, probably recovering from his drunken nights spent with supermodels.”

You hesitantly followed her in, amazed by the so-called office. This one room was probably bigger than your whole apartment. It definitely had better views. 

“I’m not sure you should be talking about our boss like that,” you mumbled, walking over to the floor to ceiling windows. 

Emily came to stand next to you, “it’s not like he’s ever here to hear it.”

“Don’t be so sure.”

Your breath caught in your throat as you jolted around, instantly fearing the worst. Was it possible you could be fired before you even got your first paycheck? How were you going to pay rent now?

You couldn’t tell if you should be relieved or not when you realised it was the man you’d smiled at earlier. Lucius Fox. 

“I’ll believe it when I see it.” Emily replied, turning back to the view. 

Oh my God. What was she doing? “Please excuse my friend, Mr Fox. I think she meant-”

“I know what she meant,” he responded while walking over. 

You opted to say nothing and pretended to look out the window, wishing for the tension to dissipate as quickly as possible.

“You’re scaring them to death, Fox.” 

The older man laughed, coming to rest his hand on your shoulder. “Worry not, dear. You’ll grow used to the banter.”

The tension started melting from your shoulders, maybe this wouldn’t be so bad, after all.

—

Within two weeks, you’d fallen into a comfortable routine. You came into work at 3:45 to make yourself a tea and read your book, before starting work at 4. You start at the side furthest from Wayne’s office, as they left the earliest. By the time you reached the common areas, the rest of the staff would be leaving, only Fox remaining. He was always the last one to leave, usually close to 7. You couldn’t help but feel sorry for him, since you knew he was typically the first person in the office too. So, you’d bring him a decaffeinated coffee around 5pm. You’d find yourself talking to him for a while, usually about stories from the past that you could both laugh about. 

Truth be told, you were starting to really enjoy the man's company. He had a dry sense of humour that you found hilarious. Being in the office late could be rather lonely, so you clung onto the moments you had with him. 

A positive of working alone in the office was that you could play all your music out loud. You’d recently gotten into a podcast where three friends read stories and discussed them. A lot of them were light hearted or ‘am i the asshole’ reddit posts.

Tonight, you listened to their supernatural episode as you finished up in Fox’s office when you heard a bang down the hallway. Slowly, you creeped to the door to peep down the corridor but there was no one there.

Maybe the ghost stories were getting to you. You shook your head and turned back into the office when you heard the noise again. Jumping, you looked toward the sound. The only thing down there was Mr Wayne’s office.

Clutching your mop between closed fists, you edged down the hallway. Taking a deep breath, you pushed the door open and rushed in, hoping to catch the perpetrator in action.

Only the office was empty, of course it was. You couldn’t help the relief that coursed through your veins. It was obviously going to be empty, you had yet to see The Bruce Wayne in this room. You were starting to wonder if it had even been used. Maybe Fox should get this office, that way someone can appreciate the view.

You laughed quietly to yourself before turning off the podcast and putting on some tunes. That was more than enough scares for you tonight.

Unbeknownst to you, you were not alone. A certain billionaire had stumbled in here before his night duty, expecting to find the place empty as usual. He hadn’t been in for a few weeks now but things rarely changed this high in the building.

Then you’d burst into the room, armed with a mop and suddenly he couldn’t breathe. You were the single most beautiful person he’d ever seen. Who were you and what were you doing here? 

He couldn’t help the way his dick twitched in his trousers. No. Now is not the time. 

He stayed in the shadows and watched you work, diligently going from one room to another before stopping in the kitchen to make a drink. You pulled a book out of your bag and read for a while. Bruce found himself creeping closer, eager to see what you were reading. 

Then you looked up and it seemed like you were staring straight at him. He knew you couldn’t see him but he couldn’t stop the way his heart stuttered in his chest. Nor the way his lower half jolted. 

What was it about you that made his infamous control slip? He’d never had this issue, not even as a teenager.

Your eyes widened as you kept gazing in his direction and he slowly turned his head. The bat symbol drifted amongst the clouds. 

He held back a sigh as he shifted further into the darkness. 

Maybe he was due a visit back into the office, after all. 

—

Or maybe not. 

It had been a week since Bruce first saw you in his office, clutching a mop like your life depended on it. Sometimes, when he lay awake in his bed, he thought about how oblivious you were to his presence that night. And every night since.

He should really get you some self defence classes, perhaps send them as a gift from Wayne Enterprises. He hated thinking about what could’ve happened if he really was a burglar. He could only keep you so safe, you needed to be able to handle yourself. 

Then he felt a bit crazy. Here he was, talking about you like you were… part of his life. Although, he supposed at this point you were part of his life. He just wasn’t part of yours. Too many times he’d driven to the building just to never get out of his car.

He’d asked Fox about you at his last equipment meeting. He tried to act nonchalant about it, casually asking if there were any new staff on the top floor. 

“We have a new cleaner.” Fox said, relaying your name. “They’ve been here for about three weeks. Settling in very well.”

Bruce repeated your name, strangely satisfied by the way it rolled off his tongue. 

“May I inquire why you’ve asked about them?” Fox’s words caught Bruce off guard. “You’ve never been interested in the Wayne staff before.”

“Just keeping up to date with the comings and goings of my fathers legacy.” Bruce suddenly found the kevlar padding very interesting. 

“Better late than never, I suppose.” Fox hummed, running his fingers across the fabric. “This kevlar is half the weight of your current gear.”

“Is it still as durable?”

You didn’t come up in the conversation again but Fox filed the information away, eager to ask Alfred about it. 

—

“What does your partner think about you working so late?”

Fox’s question caught you completely off guard, causing you to almost spurt out your tea. He immediately grabbed the tissues off his desk, handing them to you.

“Forgive me, it was an inappropriate question.” 

“No, no, no. It’s fine.” You said, finally swallowing down your mouthful. “I, uh, don’t have a partner. So, I don’t think they mind.”

“I suppose that makes two of us.” 

Before you could respond, he tactfully changed the conversation. 

—

“They’re single, you know.” 

Bruce furrowed his eyebrows but didn’t look away from his newspaper. “Whose single, Alfred?”

His heart almost broke free from his chest when Alfred said your name. 

“How would you know that?” Bruce’s words were more rushed than he would’ve liked, the newspaper long forgotten on the table.

“Every old man has his secrets.”

“You spoke to Fox,” Bruce sighed. “They probably thought he was coming onto them.”

“Worried you have competition, Master Wayne?” 

Bruce couldn’t help but chuckle. 

“You know, I may not be the master of romance but I hear that the first step in any relationship is to talk to each other.” 

“Obviously,” Bruce muttered, picking his newspaper back up.

“What you’re doing right now has a name, Master Wayne.” 

“And what is that?”

“Stalking.”

Bruce couldn’t help but flinch at the word. He turned to defend himself but Alfred was already gone, leaving him a pot of tea. 

—

You were sitting in the kitchen, tea in one hand and your book in the other. You’d found yourself in the office a bit earlier than usual but didn’t mind. It was always good to have some time to wind down before you started your shift. 

“What are you reading?” 

You couldn’t help but inwardly sigh, putting your bookmark in. “Just a-” Your breath caught in your throat as you looked up. If Russell was attractive, this man was downright gorgeous. A face carved for a god with luscious hair combed behind his ear. 

He looked eerily familiar but you couldn’t quite place him. You could feel your cheeks heat up as you bought your gaze back down to the book.

“I’ve never heard of The Dry Heart before,” Bruce’s heart leapt from his chest as he took the seat across from you. “What’s it about?”

You sneaked a glance up at him but immediately looked back down when you made eye contact. “It’s about an unhappy marriage, I’m reading it for a book club.”

He hummed, his eyes searching your face. You were even more breath-catching up close. “You must be our new cleaner,” you liked the way he said your name far too much. “I’ve been meaning to catch up with you.”

“You have?” Who was this man? You would remember seeing such a gorgeous face among the office. 

“I try to meet all the new employees but I’ve been a bit slack lately, please forgive me.”

You slowly lifted your eyes to look at him and couldn’t help the way your lips lifted. 

“Consider it forgotten,” you said softly.

He opened his mouth to respond but was cut off by Fox. 

“Mr Wayne, how lovely to see you again.” Lucius came in and stood beside you. “I see you’ve met our latest employee.”

Your eyes shoot, Mr Wayne? Surely not. In your rushed state, you completely missed the way Fox smirked at Bruce, causing the younger man to stare daggers back at him.

“Of course, it’s important to know everyone in the office.” 

Fox hummed, turning back to you. “Please excuse us, I have a very important meeting to drag Mr Wayne into.” 

“Uh, yeah, sure.” You had a hard time even saying the words, your mind whirling. Wasn’t Bruce Wayne an arrogant asshole? This man was the furthest from that. He was so kind and funny. And good looking. Holy shit was he good looking.

No, you’re not doing that. Not to your boss. Especially not when your boss is a world famous womaniser. 

You can’t help the way your eyes follow him as he walks out or the way they trail down to his perfect ass. Entering the hallway, Fox rolls his eyes when he sees the massive smirk on Bruce’s face. 

—

“I was hoping I’d find you here.”

You can’t help but jump as Bruce walks into the kitchen. “Mr. Wayne, I didn’t expect to see you so soon.”

“Please,” he sits down at the table and smiles at you. “Call me Bruce.”

“Okay, Bruce.” 

Bruce savours the way his name rolls off your tongue and how your cheeks go bright red under his gaze. His eyes follow as your blush spreads down your neck and under your neckline. 

“I usually take the new employees out for lunch, your turn is well overdue.” He takes a moment before continuing. “I guess ours would be more like dinner.”

“I suppose so,” you smile at him, oblivious to his wandering gaze. “But you don’t have to do that, Bruce. It’s fine, honestly.”

“I insist. How about tonight?”

You brought a lousy microwave dinner for tonight but there’s no reason why it can’t wait for tomorrow. Plus, who doesn’t like a free dinner? Lost in thought, Bruce takes the opportunity to study the way you bite your lip and store it away for later. 

“Sure, tonight is good.”

—

You weren’t sure what to expect during dinner but it wasn’t this. Bent over, your hand clutching your side in an attempt to ease your stitch as you laugh hysterically. Bruce is laughing too, his smile so big it shows his perfectly pearly whites.

“No way, you’re lying.” You gasp between breaths.

“I wish,” Bruce looks away in faux-shame. “I wasn’t always the smoothest.”

“I find that hard to believe.” Your laugh settles into a smile. 

“Why’s that?” He sounds genuine when he asks, curious even.

“Well, look at you.” You immediately heat at the implication, quickly stuttering off an excuse. This is not a date. “Y-You’re The Bruce Wayne. It would’ve been a-all over the newspapers if you, uh, messed up.”

Bruce merely hums, his eyes dropping down to your lips as you bite away at them again. 

This is bad. You cannot be flirting with the boss, especially not your boss's boss. Sure, he might be into it now but he’s not known to stick around with the same person for long. You can not afford to lose this job if things go bad.

You’re saved by the server coming back to drop off the check. Bruce’s hand grasps yours as you go to take the check, sending a bolt of electricity down your arm. His eyes find your own, a small smile gracing his lips.

“I’ve got you.”

Fuck. 

[goldenempyrean]

Hey there, I have a specific Nat request! Natasha and the reader both come down with a nasty case of the flu but are determined to join the rest of the team on a mission. However, Tony, known for his germaphobia, firmly refuses and quarantines them in their rooms for their own good. Left alone in the compound, Natasha and the reader care for each other and grow closer as they bond over their shared illness. When the team returns, they find Natasha and the reader fast asleep together on the sofa, having found comfort in each other's company during their time of need.

Stuck With Me

〚 Notes - I feel like I haven't written Nat in ages, I was meant to post this ages but never finished! Hopefully you enjoy :D 〛

〚 Pairing - Natasha Romanoff x Reader 〛

〚 Summary - You and Nat both get sick and can't go on a mission with the team. At least you can keep each other company 〛

〚 Wordcount - 2300 〛

〘 Check Out My Masterlist! 〙

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It wasn’t supposed to go like this. The team was buzzing with excitement as they prepared for the upcoming mission, the air thick with anticipation and purpose. Everyone was in high spirits, except for yourself and Natasha, who were huddled together in the corner of the briefing room, looking utterly miserable. 

A couple of days ago, the whole of the Avengers had been made to be some PR, and as such you and the rest of the team had spent the day interacting with the public. Everything had seemed fine at the time. Oh how that’d change. 

That morning, you had blinked slowly as you woke up and instantly regretted it. The first thing you registered was pressure, deep throbbing pressure nestled behind your sinuses snd temples. You rubbed your eyes and groaned quietly. This couldn’t be good. 

Beside you, Natasha stirred, you could hear her groan too followed by a deep, rough cough as she pushed herself to sit upright. She cleared her throat and looked down to you, her expression noticeably softening when she took in your flushed features. 

“You too?” She asked quietly, you could tell from her voice she wasn’t feeling well. Her tone was quieter, more reserved. Not to mention the thick congestion which blurred her words. 

You shivered and shuffled up to her, through the thin fabric of her shirt it was hard to miss how warm she felt and you let your head rest against her, “You’re warm.” You mumbled, pushing the back of your sleeve against your nose as you felt it run a little. 

"I think we caught something," Nat grumbled, her voice coming out raspy and sore. 

"No kidding," You mumbled hoarsely in agreement, “But from where?” 

She thought for a moment, eyes narrowing. "PR day. All those handshakes, the photos... people everywhere." She scrunched up her nose before she stifled a sneeze against the back of her hand,  "Did you get your flu jab?” She sniffled, the question popping into her mind. She’d been meaning to get hers but life was just busy and she hadn’t gotten round to it yet. 

Your eyes widened and you gave her a knowing look, “Oh shit.” 

“Oh shit indeed.” 

** 

If only this hadn’t happened today. Today, yourself, Nat and the rest of the avengers were meant to be setting off on a mission to Wakanda to assist in the ongoing vibranium crisis. It was to be an all hands on deck affair, every last pair of hands needed. 

So instead of curling in bed where you should’ve been, the two of you decided it would be better to drag yourselves down to the meeting room and sit through debriefing like absolutely nothing was wrong. 

You honestly don’t know how you’d thought that you’d somehow get away unnoticed. It was painfully obvious something was wrong. Natasha was as white as a ghost and couldn’t go more than a few minutes before giving into a liquid sniffle, all just to keep her nose from running. Just beside her, you were shivering, visibly and helplessly, all while you couldn’t stop beads of sweat from forming on your forehead.  

“Oh no, absolutely not.” Tony had almost yelped when he entered the room and caught sight of the pair of you, “These two are absolutely not coming anywhere near this mission.” 

You groaned inwardly. Of course, Tony would be the first to notice. He had an uncanny ability to pick up on things he didn’t like - germs being at the top of that list. 

Natasha didn’t haste to shoot him a glare, usually in any other circumstance this would’ve been enough to make him back off but the effect was ruined when her breath hitched and she immediately curled into her hoodie with a series of damp sneezes. 

Tony visibly flinched, his hand already reaching for a sanitiser bottle he seemed to have materialized out of thin air. He pointed toward the door. "Out. You two are quarantined," He decided firmly in a tone that read there was no room for argument. "There's no way I'm letting you infect the rest of us, especially me.” 

Steve and the others had arrived by this point and were murmuring agreement. Somewhere in between Steve trying to rationalise with an ever, stubborn Natasha and Tony shrieking about infection, Bruce had ran down to medical and grabbed a first aid kit. 

When he returned, he kneeled down and pulled out a thermometer from the box. “Alright, let’s see what we’re dealing with here.” He reached forward to take her temperature but she held a hand out to stop him from getting closer. 

“Wait.. I need to-“ Her eyes fluttered shut as she quickly turned to the side, burying her face into the crook of her elbow just as a series of harsh sneezes burst out of her, “Hh'kshhh! Hih'tshh! Heh’ktsch!" 

“Bless you.” You murmured softly. You tried to close your eyes to get some relief from the throbbing in your temples but you jumped a little at the feeling of a thermometer being rolled over your forehead. You had forgotten that Stark had insisted on buying the fancy kind. 

The device beeped its verdict and Bruce sighed, shaking his head in disapproval as he stood back up, “Nat 38.2, Y/N 38.5. In no way shape or form are either of you up for this. You’re both at serious risk of dehydration. You need to rest.”  

“Quarantine. Both of you.” Tony repeated though he’d noticeably taken a few large strides backwards. He pointed towards the door wrinkling his nose in disgust before looking up at the ceiling, “FRIDAY, disinfect the room after they leave. Use the strong stuff.” He exaggerated a shudder as Nat fell into a particularly rough coughing fit. 

“Scratch that, disinfect everything they’ve touched. I want this contained.” 

The system announced a “Yes, sir.” and you couldn’t help but groan in defeat. There was no way the two of you would be able to get out of the now and you shivered once more as you dragged yourself up out of the chair you’d being huddled in, pulling up Natasha to stand up next to you. 

Natasha looked like she wanted to argue, but the effort of coughing left her too exhausted to put up much of a fight. Her posture sagged slightly as she stood, clearly feeling every bit as lousy as you did. You gently nudged her, signaling it was time to go, and she gave a reluctant nod. Neither of you were thrilled with the idea of sitting out on such an important mission, but it was becoming increasingly clear there was no way around it. 

You caught Nat by the arm gently as she wobbled on her feet. Before the pair of you left, she shot Tony one more withering glare, though it had less of its usual sting. She stifled another sneeze into her elbow, her breath shaking as she sniffled miserably. Tony, ever the kind, sympathetic gentleman of course, took another step back, waving his hand in the air like he could physically push the germs away from himself 

“What are we meant to do now.” You mumbled after you’d left the room. When the others left you’d have the whole compound to yourself, usually in any other scenario the two of you would make good use of the alone time but there was no way either of you for feeling up for that. 

"I don't know," Natasha rasped, her voice was sounding a little worse from coughing, "Sleep, I guess." She sniffed again, her nose still red from the constant sneezing and rubbing. “Or we could stage a jailbreak. Sneak onto a jet before they leave.” 

You chuckled quietly then coughed and chuckled again, “Sorry love but if you think we’re gonna be able to sneak past them while coughing up a lung then you’re more feverish than we thought.” You reached out to rub her back when she started coughing again, “Besides I don’t think you’re up to flying, do you?” 

“Maybe not.” She rasped after catching her breath. The pair of you were just about to turn to make your way to your bedroom when you had a different idea. 

“How about we grab some blankets and cuddle up in one of the living rooms, grab some supplies and camp in there? That way we can watch some movies or something if you’re feeling up to it.” 

Natasha gave you a tired but grateful smile, her green eyes heavy with fatigue. "That... doesn't sound half bad," she admitted in a hoarse whisper, sniffling again as she rubbed at her nose with the back of her hand. "But if we're doing this I wanna rewatch the Star Wars movies.” 

You shot her a knowing grin, “My, my. Natasha Romanoff, the great Black Widow is a secret nerd. Who would’ve guessed?” That earned you a small nudge in reply and on the way, the two of you headed to a storage closet to grab  

as many blankets as you could carry without falling over whilst Nat grabbed a large box of tissues and headed off to get some medicine. 

You’d just settled down on the sofa of the common room when Nat shuffled in holding a bundle of things in her arms. Tissues, cough medicine, a thermometer, two hot water bottles and your matching water bottles.  

Originally, you had seen them being sold in a little shop whilst you were out one day. A clear, hard plastic bottle but with a little cartoon of the Black Widow on it. You’d bought it instantly and it had become the main bottle you’d use.  

Of course Natasha had blushed with embarrassment the first time she’d seen it but she couldn’t deny the action was adorable. So the next time she went out, she had gone out of her way to buy a matching bottle. This time one with a little cartoon of you in your fighting outfit. 

She set the supplies down on the coffee table in front of you before flopping down on the sofa next to you, immediately she regretted letting go of her hot water bottle and grabbed it, cradling it for a moment as she got warm before tucking it under her hoodie. 

“You need anything else?” She shook her head and you cleared your throat before reaching to pick up the remote to start the first movie before handing it to her as you remembered that you had no idea which order the movies went in. 

The corner of her mouth quirked a little as a smile played on her lips, “Episode IV, no prequels first.” She began to explain why it was so important even though it went right over your head anyway, “We watch in release order, we’re not heathens.” 

You nodded along, pretending to understand the logic of watching the Star Wars movies in release order, though to be honest, most of the reasoning had gone straight over your foggy, headache-riddled brain. She rambled on for a little, and you occasionally nodded to signify you were still listening until she eventually pressed play, and the familiar fanfare and iconic text crawl started to roll up the screen.  

For a moment, you both just sat there, quietly watching, the only sounds in the room the hum of the TV and the occasional sniffle from Nat. Her head slowly started to lean onto your shoulder, and without even thinking, you shifted slightly to let her rest more comfortably. The warmth from her hot water bottle radiated through her hoodie and into your side, a comforting presence. 

"You okay?" You murmured softly, glancing down at her. She looked exhausted, her eyes half-lidded as they flickered between the screen and you. 

"Mm-hmm," She mumbled, though her voice was so thick with congestion it came out as more of a hum. She snuggled in closer, her hand absentmindedly toying with the sleeve of your shirt. "This is perfect," She whispered hoarsely, her body sagging into yours with that telltale heaviness of someone about to drift off. She was perfectly still for a few minutes until you felt her chest rising suddenly as she sat up quickly and rubbed at her nose, “F-fuck I-” She tried to warn, luckily you knew what she needed but you still barely had time to pass her the tissues before she set off into a flurry of sneezes. 

“Bless you,” You replied softly after each one, watching as she blew her nose and gave you an apologetic look afterwards which made you respond with a gentle kiss to her forehead, “You can’t help it love, don’t worry.” 

The rest of the week was spent the same way, the two of you cuddled up on the sofa together. You’d hold her close when she was shivering and she’d periodically swap out a cloth to place on your forehead. Napping had become the biggest part of the day, the two of you sleeping with arms wrapped around each other. It had been during one of these naps when the team had finally arrived home. Clint had come clambering in, looking to kick back and watch some trashy TV after days of concentration but what he was met with instead was a huddle of blankets and two sniffly girlfriends tucked up in each other's arms. 

He couldn’t resist snapping a quick photo, one which he totally wouldn’t use for blackmail in the future. He smiled softly as he saw how relaxed the both of you looked and quietly tiptoed out of the room, closing the door softly and writing a note not to enter. There was no point waking the pair of you up, not when you both looked so peaceful. He’d simply wait to tease the pair of you when you were feeling better. 

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[astralnymphh]

𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬, 𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐬.

summary: you and ellie have been living on this farm for at least a year now, tucked in the towering mountains of wyoming and just a quaint trek from jackson. just you and her. you, her, the sun, and the moon. what could today entail? what makes this midsummer's day so special?

reader discretion advised: nsfw, mdni, proposal, picnic, somewhat proofread, sexual jokes, takes place before santa barbara, sucking on fingers(almost choking on them), fingering (receiving), almost-oral (receiving), dirty talk, doing the deed in nature. footnotes: word count (4.2k), masterlist, palestine masterpost, read this, written circa 2023. (hence the writing style change)

it's another day on the farm, yet like no other. it's harvest season, and your crops have got you cut out of your day and preoccupied. plucking fruit and tugging vegetables from the lavish soil in your garden with a certain ellie onlooking from your dusty oak porch. she's observing you in your most natural nature, tending to your art, the garden, and supplying you with a bountiful reaping of food for the inbound month.

there lay a tract of terrain beyond your fences, this beautiful pasture gilded in a magnificent solar ray every afternoon, and ellie's got an itching to bring you there today. with your knees sewn in the dirt surrounding a planter bed, wicker basket beside you and snapping blueberries off their stems, it's got you in a pretty tranquil state that doesn't include the awareness of ellie watching. so when dual warm hands plant on your biceps, it jolts you by instinct.

"how's the harvest babe?" ellie's silhouette looms over you and the berry bush, eyeing the pile of blueberries cradled in the basket, "looks good, when will you be done though, d'you think?" a smirk adorns her lips.

"umm.." your fingers pinch a lone berry, "I haven't gotten to the vegetables yet.." you remind her and yourself, rolling the navy berry between your fingertips.

ellie crouches behind you, "do you haaave to harvest everything now?" she whines, wrapping her lithe arms around your shoulders akin to a sloth and rocking you along with her see-saw motion.

"yes els, if you want food." a quaint giggle erupts from your chest. 

"but we have food, babe. our pantry is full of it." ellie attempts to coax you, voice pitching at the brink of her sentence. her lips brush the hairs on your nape and leave damp marks of adoration.

"did you come out here just to distract me?" your mouth creeps into a sheepish smirk, extending your hand out to pluck the last cluster of berries.

"you can tell me to stop." her pecks don't falter, dotting the length of your placid shoulders, "should I stop?" the question phases through you like a tantalizing breeze.

a melody thrums from your hum, eyes drifting closed in the blissfulness that is her velvety lips, puckering against your jawline and tickling your skin slightly with her hair. 

"els! that tickles.." you shrug your shoulder against your ear, nudging ellie's face off.

"so.. stop?" she reiterates and streams her steady palms down upon your hips.

you plant two cupped hands over her legs that now settle on both sides of you, whirling slowly to face her and furrowing your brows, "you're a menace. what happened to your little art project you started this morning?" 

"well, I saw my wife working outside and just had to join." she draws out an emphasis.

"wife? wife? we aren't married."

"not like we can have a wedding, so I just declare it." her lips resume to your neck, chafing that earthy auburn hair against your cheek.

"you didn't even propose or anything." 

"'chn ch-nge th-t." ellie's speech muffles in your collar, tender grips hugging the crests of your hips.

you don't catch her inaudible words, "huh?" you question, grasping the woven handle of your basket and returning it to your line of sight beside ellie's splayed leg.

"nothin'." her raspy voice clarifies as her head peeks up, melting foreheads and poking nose tips together.

you connect constellations dotting her cinnamon freckles with your eyes, trickling down and charting her coral lips. a smile tints yours, whispering, "what'd you wanna do today?"

"hmm?" her visage turns bumbled, "I never mentioned any-"

"you always bother me when y'want to do something.." you interrupt her, earning a hung-open-jaw look from her as she withdraws from your space.

she heaves, yet a cheeky nasal-lined smile summons on her midface, "you.. know that clearing in the woods, back there?" she juts her head in a vague direction, thumb swiping over her bottom lip.

you glimpse at the distant fence ellie points her head to and nod in understanding.

her hand lands on her thigh, "why don't we have a picnic there?" she offers, prodding your elbow with her raised knee.

"you trynna woo me, els?" you tease, easing your hand on her swaying knee.

"baabbee.." she whines, pleading for an answer that sounds a lot like 'yes'.

her whining casts a reminisce to this morning, you clawing your way out of bed, sorry, out of her locked embrace as you tried to prepare for the day. her tousled auburn hair buried in your chest, fingers drawing shapes on your back, pressing her bare torso against your side and begging for you to stay in bed.

"baabbbee.." her soft wail echoed.

"ellie, I gotta get up." her ardent skin was caressing yours and legs intertwined in a knot.

"nuh-uh, no you're not." ellie snorted and further tightened her bear hug to your demise.

"baby, we needa get out of bed, it's harvest day." you coaxed with a cherished kiss to her crown, weaseled only an inch from her before you got lulled back in.

her lengthy limbs, damn those things, can trap you well and remain unmoving. she only wore her nude toned underwear to bed last night, and you a lace panty. not a moment of your memory is blurred, in fact, what took place last night was well etched in your brain. ellie reeks of sex and so do you, she has traces of jasper red scratches on her back to prove it.

"need you babe.." she reaches for your furled hand, sowing soft and needy kisses on your knuckles.

you sighed and just gave up, curled your body with her and combed solace rows into her jumbled mullet.

"so, what do you say?" her voice in reality reels you in, breaking your chain of rememberance.

you take a gander at her features momentarily before deciding, "yes- sure, picnic sounds good." without hesitation.

"good, cause I'm fuckin' famished." ellie's face slants towards yours, her devious fingers slithering beside her, snatching up a blueberry and popping it in her mouth.

you spot this in your peripherals, "ey! don't eat my berries!" you chuckled.

"your berries? there's only one- two berries of yours that I know of, I'm actually quite acquainted-"

you lightly smack the silly smirk off her lips, fraudly disgusted by her immaturity, "you're so inappropriate!"

"not like anyone's gonna hear.." she ovalizes her lips and gusts the linear bang from her cheek.

"you're weird." you roll your eyes prior to standing up with the scratchy basket handle tucked in your elbow.

ellie follows suit, her hand wrapping and clutching yours loosely, "c'mon, I'll help you make the food." her stature stands a few inches above you, wriggling her bottom lip to the side in a crooked peculiar smile that invites those signature dimples to play.

you shun your pupils to the back of your head, giving her the once-over before pacing through the backdoor with her all giddy in hand.

the iridescent glade comes into view as you're strolling towards it, ellie adjacent to you equipped with a basket in hand and worn out bookbag on her back. you haven't ventured into the woods much after moving here, but with no signs of infected in months you simply deem it safe. she hasn't taken you out like this anyways, not for a while. the last time was her birthday, since it only occurs on special occasions, so why today?

ellie fashions a proud smile shrouded by you being slightly ahead of her, definitely holding hands but you're too thrilled to explore this parcel of forest to take notice. she wore joel's buckskin leather jacket over a plaid shirt, usual jeans with slits in them and sturdy brown boots.

"hurry up babe! I can see it already.." you exclaim with a bounce to your step, swinging her arm around to usher her feet swifter.

a laugh enchants her, "i'm right behind you.. the spots' not goin' anywhere." she assures you calmly trailing a chuckle, but inside, her heart is blooming with beats and sending shrills of tension through her nerves. her mind was up to something.

"it's right there!" you steam off a squeal of elation just seeing the open pasture. the grass is of a radiant jade shade, smothered in a divine ray of sun casting down on it, it looks like it came straight from elysian fields itself. you tear from ellie's hold and dash towards the glade with eagerness.

"babe!" ellie shouts but not without a following chuckle, adoring the pure felicity you expressed brought by this mere sight of nature. she trots after you with a bit of struggle from all the baggage she carried.

you halt just as you reach the center of the glade, staring at the trees surrounding and the canopy provided by their outstretching branches creating crown shyness, all with a bright beam spread across your lips.

ellie catches up with you and sets the basket on the ground, observing the space in detail, "y'want it right here?" she peels the bookbag from her shoulders and tosses it to the grass.

"mhm.." you pump your head in agreement and swivel away from her, admiring the spires of bark and fauna that look like they came from a painting.

she unzips the bag in one swoosh, yanking out a slightly frayed, faded and old beige cotton blanket with little embroidered florals along the hem. ellie dusts it off and thrashes out all the crinkles, laying it flat against the earth and smoothing out all the ripples.

you tilt your head over to witness her squatting down, pulling various objects from the bag and hesitating before she places them down. she appeared to be deep in thought, decorating the empty canvas of a blanket like it was important to her.

ellie's forehead tauts, an arrangement of fine china at her feet, "does this plate look better here.. or here?" her voice chromatically turns gravelly.

"it looks good anywhere.."

"yeah- but I want it to look perfect for you." 

"..." you stare with an amused grin.

"hmm, what's so funny?" she coos and hones her focus on you while carefully tossing the plate to one corner of the blanket.

"just you.. you're goofy." you comment with a dim-witted smile.

her gaze narrows and bares her teeth in a matching dumb smirk, tutting her head, "you wanna see goofy?" she challenges you and crawls closer.

"no, I wanna see a set-up picnic. don't get distracted." you tease and parry her with a nudge from your foot resting on her collarbone.

"tch, okay- okay." she leans back on her heel, hastily creating the idyllic picnic with your help. 

soon, you're cuddling between some small pillows, bowl of dark rosewood cherries to your right and a knitted blanket draped over your bodies. 

ellie lies beneath you, her legs cradling yours and advancing her fingers to the bowl of delectable cherries. she picks one up and hovers it above your lips, beckoning you to bite it. 

"what d'you mean we can't get more sheep?" she wheezes a whimsical laugh, chest jittering underneath your back.

"we already have a dozen, babe." you sink your teeth into the cherry and yank it from the stem, juices oozing over the hill of your chin.

"i have more names for them in mind!"

"you can't even get the names of our current sheep right." 

she flicks the leftover stem into the patch of grass, "uh- yes I can!" she scoffs and jossles her woody auburn locks up a bit.

"sure babe." you goggle.

you allow the conversation to diminish in peaceful serenity, before raising the interrogation, "why'd you bring me here today?" you shuffle atop her, jabbing her palm to keep feeding you. you're spoiled.

ellie snickers and leverages her hand towards the bowl once again, dangling a cherry from between her fingertips. her throat gritts harshly as she clears it, "i.. have something to show you.." her tone lingers on the vowels.

"oh?" a hint of subtle enthusiasm curls in your voice, "got me a present?"

"you'll see, just- get up." she heaves you upwards and hops onto her feet alongside you.

you clasp hands behind your back, a bit of a bumbled facade shadowing your expression when she just stands still like a statue. "umm.. is it not a present?"

"turn around." her lips curve into a mischievous glint across those pretty rosy lips.

"what the fuck are you gonna pull-"

"turn around!" ellie's grin broadens as she gestures to you to spin 'round on your heel, eliciting a dorky giggle from you.

you cave in and twirl on the tip of your shoe, mindlessly gazing heavenward to the scattered wisping clouds.

"you remember the day we started dating?" her voice flows past you, seeming to erupt from a lower stance like she was crouched.

"uh, vaguely." 

this bestows a throaty chuckle from ellie, "and you remember what I gave you when I.. confessed?" 

"yeah, you gave me bent daisies that you tore from the poor ground." you bash her, one brow inclining up your head.

"i'm not a botanist." she nicks the rear of your ankle, shambling against the fabric-veiled grass.

a tingle sprints up your leg at this contact, making you shy away from it slightly. a specter of stillness corrodes the air, so you perk, "can I turn now?"

"yes." ellie's speech trembles yet is laced with certainty, planting a seed of curiosity in your noggin.

you teeter over slowly like a creaking wheel, pupils hastening down to materialize ellie in your mind, propped by a knee, the other raised, pinching a tiny flock of daisies with their honey pistils staring back at you. her face bruising of an apple hue to her skin behind those sun specks, her verdant rings peering from those lashes and a brazen half-moon to her strawberry lips. they part as the realization begins to plague you,

"will you be my wife?"

your body goes hollow and nerves wrack up in shock, an elusive beam of emotions vibrate in your heart and collide your shaken knees to the blanket. a hand quivers against your mouth, the words stolen from you. the love just boils over.

"els- i.. i.." the boulder in your throat clogs, managing to swallow it up and brim you with warm tears, "yes.. yes!"

she practically springs up and coalesces with you, arms wrapped around you and elevating you off the ground with blazing elation. you feel her wide smile plastered against your lips as they make merry, smoothing out to drag her lips over yours in a fervid kiss.

she parts, "no ring but.. we don't need that, right?" 

"mhm, don't need it.." you sever your weight from your feet to her, sticking close, "I love you.. so much." 

"love' you too baby.." she hankers down and sits criss-cross in front of you, easing you into her splayed lap. "now i can call you my wife."

"should we have our own little wedding? just us, like, as if it's some ritual or.. stating our vows or.. handfasting and declaring our love before empty seats.." you ramble nonsensically, assuming it just whooshes right over ellie's head.

"we have our picnic here," she opens her arms to signify the space around you, "we can tie that all up here, including the honeymoon!"

"hmm, 'weird that you mention the honeymoon. I think you said that so it happens now."

"no! I'm just.. throwing stuff to see what sticks.." she diffuses a dumb visage, knitting her brows together.

"i think you wanna get a fuck on in the forest." you leer in your suspicions and creep over her body till' she meets back to ground.

"and if you guess right? would you?" her demeanor shifts to boot a seductive one.

ellie still had some drive in her, even to last night's depictions. the way her lean vein lined arms are still pumping with detectable lust, yearning for your body in ways that should be bound to the bedroom only, but she doesn't give a fuck. she needs to fuck. a fucking given to her. 

"fuck yes I will." you grind your pelvis longingly on her thigh, kneading your confined bud in one long swipe, a good start-up.

not an inhale later and ellie already has her jacket reeled off by the sleeves, a series of stripping set in motion when her shirt's buttons get popped one by one.

you follow through with one sweep of your top over your crown, tethering the bare skin surrounding your bra to the midsummer breeze, giving you a hare of raised bumps that are quickly cured by ellie's ardent skin adjoining yours. 

her lips suture themselves to your plender gap, lapping at the groove of your collarbone delicately while her keen hands roam your legs, squeezing the soft plush padding of your inner and outer thigh with her fingers.

"I'm gonna make you feel.. s'fuckin' good.." she whispers in hushed mists of heat, sanguineous nibbles forging up your chin and gluing your lips together in a lustful frenzy.

"I need you ellie.. now.." you intone against her captivating lips and take hold of her wrist, guiding it to cusp your bra-clad breast.

"so bold of you.." she rewards a praise, tucking her nimble fingers behind the clasp of your bra and pinching it free. her hands tug the straps from your arms and whisk them away to some unknown plot of grass. 

the course of wind grazes past your nipples, making you shiver. you watch her pupils dilate at the sight of your two perky buds reacting to the breeze.

"mm- fuck.. love these." ellie's mouth latches to one of your breasts, suckling the nipple lavishly with a damp suction and playing the other one like a flip-switch lightly with her thumb.

the barely-there feeling of her thumb summons a flurry of carnal want in your core, preluding to your now lubricious panties sopping for physical attention. this seeps through and forms a miniscule spotting on your inseam.

the hand that still had a gripe on your thigh fleets to your crotch, distinguishing this faint blot of wetness, welcoming a proud smirk to dent her midface, "fuckin' wet already.." her voice rasps hauntingly, "gonna get my fingers all pruney.." 

you chafe in desire against her stationary digits, making her snatch them away and repel your pelvis with a push.

"nuh-uh, pants off first."

her face displaces from your hanging breasts, creasing the blanket back up and crunching the grass to gaze back at you. she peruses your zipper and deftly unfastens it to pull your pants down with a might. once they're off, her hands zip into the underside of your knees, flipping you over and mountaineering over you with an undeniable hunger in her manner.

"ellie!" an entranced giggle beams from your throttle, low-key turned on by the daring action.

"god, really soaked these huh?" her voice flows in a higher pitch, referring to your ocean-drowned underwear.

"yeah.. you did that.." 

"mhmmm~” she vocalizes behind shut lips, “don't think I even need to remove 'em to taste you.." 

you witness her descending into the depths between your legs, biting down her cushiony lips and nearly salivating at the front-row seat view to your sobbing cunt. her own arousal starts to stain her own panties and even little riffs of repressed whimpers vibrate from her lips. she graces you with one pour-over before smashing her mouth against your clothed slit, puffing a humid cloud over your entrance and licking up the seeped puddle of slick.

you jerk in sudden sensation, "babe! oh~ fuck!"

"yup, tastes so fucking good." she's like a beast to your crotch, slathering the soiled fabric with even more wetness likes she's fucking starving. her forehead is taut and eyebrows flit in concentration, you can already hear the eulogy ringing for your soon destroyed pussy.

your fingers nest in her hair, massaging and stamping into her scalp at the pure feeling of her tongue, you need her in indescribable ways, "need your fingers ellie.. need u're.. need.." you chant in fleeing breaths.

she grumbles in swelling arousal and unlatches from your puffy slit, brazen giggle chilling her throat at the sight of your avidness.

she huffs, "kay, gonna take these off.." ellie anticipates the moment she gets to stuff your pretty pussy to the brim, drowsy eyes never drifting from the lace concave between the valley of your lips. she slews those panties off instantly and brings them down to your ankles, making sure they'd never be found among the meadow around you.

you spread your legs for her sights to soak in, burgeoning a redness to her face like time and time again, a satisfied grin tugging the corners of her lips.

she sticks two ready fingers in her mouth, moistened them up, "gonna make you see stars, hmm babygirl?" 

you gnaw your lips inwards at her affirmation, eyeing the route her hand takes from mouth to lower regions, forking your slit open and running them clit to hole, hole to clit, repetitively. this coats her digits in a glistening film of your arousal, visibly pleasing her.

"mm- that fucking sound.." the parting of your drenched folds entices her ears like a melody, "hear that baby?" ellie's voice chimes in a honeyed whisper.

"yes.. yes.." your essence shudders in her thrall, vulnerability afflicted by your neediness.

ellie beholds your figure in one final glance before aiming on your center and jamming duo digits in your aching pussy that vacuums her up with the help of your dripping nectar overflowing at the base of her knuckles. you wallow in the gratifying gauge she has brought you to, a fluxing whine tinting your tongue.

"good girl.. taking my fingers in so nicely.."

you contract around her, letting her know how much those words truly thrill you and she rebounds by thrusting her fingers in and out of you at a sluggish pace.

your jaw quivers open in the whirling ecstasy that begins to dribble into your void brain strictly honed on the pumping motion of her willowy fingers.

"hmm.." a visualization prompt in her noggin convinces a plan to unravel by her hand snailing to your mouth, luring it ajar, "open babe." 

you obey with moving lips, flattening the plateau of your tongue beneath her fingers.

"like this don't you? mm- fuck." ellie grunts seeing you engulf her paired index and middle in your warm mouth without a gloom of delay splitting your will. her other fingers meddle with the crux of your delight, sloshing with every insert of her lengthy fingers piping you.

"oh my heaven on eart- auck.." a spastic cough tickles your throat around her digits.

"just suck baby.. just suck." 

you resolve your words and pucker your lips down, swirling your tongue around her still fingers. muffled vibrations of moans string out around them, rattling your teeth.

each flick of her skilled wrist occurs in short breaks, meanwhile pumps hasten inside of you, thumb unfurling to patten down your clit in rigid circles. she coos, "gonna cum on my fingers?" in reply to your writhing contentment.

"fast- fhster.." you shear your chords forcing a plead on fingers narrowly itching the back of your gullet.

"awhh, u're such a mess." her hand forceps your jaw, locking her fingers wedged between your front teeth.

"guh- mmmm!" your body shrivels in unfathomable bliss and an inbound phantom orgasm overwhelming your senses.

ellie starts snapping her hand at an aggressive velocity that slaps against your swollen folds with wet smacks striding the open air, scrunching her nose up at the sheer speed she’s going.

"cum baby- cum.." 

"I- ahh.."

"soak my fuckin' fingers, soak them in that pretty fucking pussy." she encourages in husky mewls, finger pads jostling your g-spot in a rhythm that drugs your mind with numbness, repeating, "cum for ellie.. cum for me.." 

you swear your walls convulse prior to tightening up like a wringed towel and releasing a stinging orgasm upon you, growling on her fingers still present on your tongue.

"ghnnnn.. fck!" you curl up in pleasure and screw your eyes shut. this orgasm hits you like a bullet train and it shows in practice, clawing and digging your mark on ellie's available wrist with clamoring wails from the sanctum of your chest.

"yeah? so fucking hot.." she notes to herself in a low navelly tone, slipping her sticky fingers out trickling in your juices.

you chase your breath stranded in another galaxy, "can't feel my.. legs.. fuck, ellie, where'd you come from?" you quip in emphasis, face still beating red like a volcano.

"from boston, precisely." she sneaks in a dorky response.

"shut up.." you knock on her head with your foot, gasping when she grabs it and plants it on her shoulder.

she bucks her hips into your ass, squeezing her torso between the basin of your legs, levitating overhead. there's a solace moment of a love-staring-contest casting those green circlets infused with devotion and appreciation. staring back up into those eyes assures you, she's home, she's heaven and she's never leaving you. although, ellie, like the freak she is, breaks the innocent moment, "think this'll continue in the bedroom?." she peppers a solemn kiss to your forehead hazed in underlying intention.

"probably, knowing you."

"knowing me what?"

"you know." 

"I don't."

"ellie!"

"we'll find out, hmm?"

[lees-chaotic-brain]

swapped! (todoroki x reader)

summary: after you get hit with a strange quirk, you swap bodies with your long time crush and hero partner todoroki shouto. somehow, every single thing that could possibly go wrong goes wrong and chaos ensues. idea dump here

genre/content warnings: afab reader, reader has some sort of telekinesis quirk for plot efficiency (i got lazy sorry), suggestive, periods, reader is implied to have a heavy flow but it's really just for the plot to ensure maximal crack, mentions of blood, swearing, fluff, crack, todoroki is a little shit (when is he not)

wc: 5.9k (oopsies this is my longest fic to date)

note: this is for @andypantsx3's pretty boy summer collab! (sorry it's late andie) it is also one of my sponsored fics for @ficsforgaza's fundraiser! i couldn't fit all the scenes i wanted into the fic without ruining the flow, so go check them out and sponsor them if you want to read more! also everyone needs to go say thank you to @thelov3lybookworm for giving me the push i needed to stop making excuses and find solutions so i could post. thanks girl <3

i'm not sure how i feel about the ending, but i think it's as good as it's going to get! since i haven't written in a little while and things have been tough, likes, reblogs, and comments would be so so appreciated, and will help me get the next fic on my list done faster!!!

blog navigation | bhna masterlist | extras!

The first thing you notice when you finally emerge from the depths of your slumber is how comfortable you were. Everything feels just right, your pillows are cool against your neck, and your sheets hold the perfect amount of warmth; enough to keep you cozy, but not so hot that your sweat is creasing the silky sheets and making you feel sticky and gross.

The second thing you notice is the very large, very male hand sprawled on the pillow next to your head. A deep male voice lets out a surprised cry as you jerk back, the hand moving with you.. It takes you several moments to realize that it had come from you. 

Your bare feet thump against the wood paneled floor as you stumble out of bed disoriented and realize where you are for the first time. Namely, not in your bedroom.

Glancing around in confusion, you wonder what the hell happened, and how you ended up somewhere so nice.. The space itself is fairly bare, but you can tell that all of the furniture inhabiting it is expensive. From the sleek wooden dresser to the geometric modern light fixtures to the insanely high thread count of the sheets, everything screams tasteful luxury. 

Where are you? You definitely feel asleep in your own bedroom. Reaching up you rake your hair out of your face and freeze. Instead of the familiar texture and length of your own hair, you’re greeted with short, silky soft strands that definitely did not belong to you.

Mussing your hair to make sure you’re not imagining things, you glance down, and for the first time notice some inexplicable things.For one, the ground is a lot farther away than it normally is, and for two, last time you checked you did not have washboard abs, or a male anatomy.

The entire situation was confusing, and you were still slightly sleep-addled. Despite that you knew that you needed to find a mirror. A quick glance around the room located one in the corner and you hurry over to it. 

Sliding to a stop you grip the edges of the little stand, frost spreading from your right hand to cover the wood while you gaped at your appearance.

Intense heterochromatic eyes stared back at you, shock filling them. Your hair was a unique mess of red and white strands, the two colors mussed with sleep. With those distinctive features, plus high chiseled cheekbones, a jawline that could cut stone and a slim yet unfairly muscular body there was no doubt about it.

You were Todoroki Shouto. At least, that’s whose body you’re currently inhabiting. His very shirtless body. 

BZZZZZT BZZZZZZT

Saved from having to fight your urges to poke at his abs by the noise, you jump, swinging your gaze around in search of the origin.

BZZZZZZT BZZZZZZT

A simple black phone flashes on the otherwise empty nightstand (does he seriously not even have a lamp??), the caller i.d. sending you scrambling across the room to the phone. 

Fumbling in your haste, you manage to swipe and pick up the incoming call from your cell phone.

Your mind is racing a mile a minute. There were only two ways to get into your phone. The first was the password, but even you forgot it most of the time. It sat safely tucked away on a post it in the safe you store all of your important documents in. The second was through face i.d. and the only person who could unlock your phone with their face was you. And since you were in his body, it wouldn’t be unreasonable to assume that he….Lifting the phone to your ear you speak hesitantly.

“Todoroki? Is that you?”

“Y/N?”

It was unnerving to hear your voice saying your name from the other end of the phone,

“What happened?!” You’re a little mortified to hear the hysteria lacing your words, but you can feel the panicked adrenaline flooding your veins as your body goes into fight or flight.

“I believe that the quirk we got hit with yesterday caused us to switch bodies. However, it is highly unlikely that it is permanent so it will be fine.” Even though it’s your voice, something about knowing Todoroki is on the other end was reassuring enough that some of the tension bled from your shoulders.

“That’s good.” You sigh, rubbing your face. There’s a mildly uncomfortable throbbing coming from your lower half, and you absentmindedly reach down to rub at it, forgetting you weren’t in your own body. Brushing against a bump in your gray sweatpants, you shiver as a familiar feeling spreads through your lower stomach and something twitches.

“Todoroki?” Your voice suddenly gets a little higher, the hint of hysteria from before returning to the normally deep monotone. “We have a problem.”

“What is it? Is something wrong?” 

Ignoring his questions, you stare in growing horror at the very obvious tent in the front of the sweatpants you were wearing. You have no idea how you didn’t notice it earlier, but now that you’ve seen what’s going on down there you can’t help but be extremely aware of the uncomfortable pressure. 

“Y/N? Please explain what’s going on. I’m growing concerned.”

“I-” You splutter, unable to form a coherent sentence. Finally you gather your wits enough to say something. “It’s uh, it’s hard.”

“What do you mean? What’s hard? Oh...” He trails off into embarrassed silence.

“OH?” You can’t handle this. “What do you mean ‘oh?!’ Do something!”

“Like what?” He sounds a little defensive. “What am I supposed to do from here?”

“I don’t know!” You’re shouting now. “But you have to do something! How am I supposed to sit here with your massive boner?!”

There’s a loud crash on the other end of the phone, and you jump. “What was that?”

“Nothing.” He answers a little too quickly, but his voice still retains his usual impassivity. “Anyways, returning to the problem at hand. It will go away on its own after a little while. Unless you would rather handle it yourself-”

“No!” You wince as you practically shout into the phone. “I mean, no it's okay. I feel like that would be unprofessional.”

You can hear the amusement in his voice as he responds. “I feel like this entire situation is rather unprofessional. After all, I did see your breasts this morning.”

There must be something wrong with your hearing because there’s no way he just said what you thought he did. In such a nonchalant manner at that. “Wha-What?” Embarrassingly your voice cracks as you rack your brain, frantically searching through your memories of the night before. Then it hits you. 

“You went to bed without pants, a shirt, and a bra last night.” He informs you matter of factly, and you must be going crazy because there’s no way that that’s smugness you’re picking up from him. “Judging from the temperature of your apartment I’d say that your air conditioning is broken. You should probably get that fixed.”

You’ve completely forgotten about the boner you’re currently sporting due to the mortification of it all. Of course the one time the two of you switch bodies it just has to be the day your AC broke and you went to bed in nothing but a pair of striped cotton undies.

A small part of you mourns that you weren’t wearing something sexier, but the larger part of you is screaming that he is your boss. Sure you’ve been friends for years, and you have a not so little crush on him, but you are his subordinate. This was going to make things so awkward in the office. Hopefully once this is all over you can go hunt someone with a memory erasing quirk down to wipe his mind. But maybe not yours. You kind of want to remember the toned planes of his abs and the impressive bulge in his sweats. 

Giving yourself a shake you chastise your internal voice. Absolutely not. That would be an invasion of his privacy. In fact, you should put on a shirt right this second to respect his privacy, not that he didn’t walk around with half of his hero suit burned off from time to time. Wait. A thought suddenly occurs to you.

“Wait. You have a shirt on now, right? You put on a shirt before calling me.” You laugh nervously, because of course he has more common sense than that. It’s not like he would just sit on the phone with you while your tits were hanging out, right? Right??

“Well no.” Your heart falls out of your ass and you accidentally sear a handprint into the edge of his nightstand at his casual answer. “It’s uncomfortably warm in here and without the use of my quirk I am unable to regulate my body's temperature. Aside from that, I don’t know where you keep your shirts so I prioritized calling you to discuss the situation over going through your personal belongings.

That all sounds perfectly reasonable and you would have fallen for it except for one little thing. “Todoroki. I know for a fact that I was too lazy to put my laundry away yesterday and there is a stack of clean t-shirts sitting on the end of my bed right now.” 

You hear rustling -is he still in your bed?!- as he leans forwards to check. “Oh. You’re correct. My apologies.” There’s more rustling and the sound of fabric sliding over skin as he pulls a t-shirt over his head. “It’s on now.”

“Thank you.” You pointedly ignore the fact that he did not sound the tiniest bit apologetic, filing it away to revisit later. For now, the two of you need to discuss what to do next. “I appreciate it. What’s the plan now though? I think we should meet at the agency as soon as possible and go from there.” 

“I agree.” He seems to lack the sense of urgency currently consuming you as he hums in agreement. It’s incredibly annoying. “We should probably give each other directions on what to do, and where to find the things we need.”

On second thought maybe it’s better that he’s calm and thinking clearly because that was an excellent idea. “That’s smart. I keep a pad of paper and a pen on my nightstand to jot down reminders if you want to use that. Where do you keep your paper?”

“Check my bookshelf.” The telltale sound of paper flipping told you that he found the notepad as you crossed the room and stopped in front of the simple wooden bookcase. “Where is it on your bookshelf?”

“I think I keep a notebook and a pad of paper on the middle shelf.” He sounds distracted and a little uncertain, but when you stoop down to check (it’s weird being this tall) you find a simple yellow legal pad and a black pen. “I got it.” 

“Okay.” The sound of a book closing accompanies his words and there’s a hint of some unidentifiable emotion lacing the two-syllables. 

Not thinking much of it you shrug it off, sitting down down at his desk and listening as he tells you where keeps his car keys, hero suit, and other necessities. You ask a few follow up questions, jotting down what cabinet he keeps his cologne and deodorant in, before launching into your own instructions.

“The first thing you need to do is start the coffee machine. Trust me. My body will not be happy unless you give it at least three cups of coffee or like two big energy drinks before 9 am. Next…” After you’re sure he has understood the importance of caffeine, you move on, explaining where you keep your clothes, car keys, and shoes, as well as where you parked your car. 

“Don’t worry about makeup or hair products or anything while you’re getting me ready. I know there’s a lot on my bathroom counter but it’s not necessary. But you do need to go into the first drawer on your left when you’re standing at the sink and grab my anxiety meds. They should be in an orange prescription bottle. Only take one. And please for the love of god do not forget to put a bra on. You got all that?”

“I believe so. Is there a specific outfit you want me to wear or should I just choose?” You stop and think. Left to his own devices there’s no knowing what he might put you in (his first hero costume proof of his abysmal sense of fashion) so it would be best to give him some guidance. “Could you just wear a casual sweater and some jeans?” 

“Yes. Let’s get ready and meet at the agency in about an hour. If that works for you.” There’s not much writing on the yellow legal pad, the black scrawl of your handwriting barely taking up half a page. Okay. It isn’t that much. You can do this. “That sounds good to me.”

“Oh, I also think it might be best if we kept this from the general employees at the agency for the time being just to reduce drama. Is that okay with you?” 

“Of course.” More than okay actually. Some of them were aware of your not-so-little crush on him, so it would spare you some teasing and interrogation.

There’s a couple seconds of awkward silence, and you get the feeling he wants to say something more, the tension crackling through the speaker of his stupidly expensive phone. Opening your mouth, you start to say something then realize you don’t really have anything to say. The awkward silence persists a couple seconds longer before he wishes you goodbye and hangs up.

Click. Click. Click. Clickclickclickclickclickclickclick. You didn’t even realize that you had started clicking the pen open and closed, a nervous habit of yours. Sheepishly you place the pen down on his desk and stand. Sure the vibes were kind of weird at the end there, but it’s not like anything worth making you nervous happened. The situation might not be ideal, but it wasn’t the biggest deal in the world. You could handle it. The worst part was already over. You just had to meet him at the agency, figure out what to do with the rest of the day, and wake up in your own body tomorrow. Piece of cake.

Gaping in horror, you realize that this was not, in fact, going to be a piece of cake. 

Getting ready had been easy enough so you had arrived at the agency a few minutes before your agreed meeting time, which fortunately/unfortunately put you in the perfect position to witness the walking shitshow.

You had been idly sipping at a cup of coffee, marveling at how many packets of sugar it had taken to make it acceptable to his taste buds when he staggered in, catching the eye of pretty much everyone in the lobby.

Hunched over weirdly, he staggered in, wearing a pair of jeans that rode just a little too low to be professional and a very white, very sheer shirt that was meant to be layered over an undershirt. Or, at the very least, with a sturdy, modest bra underneath.

Alas, you can only stare in abject horror at the sight of what everyone else would assume was you stumbling in, your nipples visible from across the room, the bra that should have been on your body clasped in one hand. 

You’re pretty sure you disassociated for a few seconds from sheer mortification, standing there unmoving for several seconds. Once you had processed (and gone through the seven stages of grief multiple times) you were bolting across the floor, seizing his (your?) arm and dragging him down the hall and into the family bathroom where no one could see.

Slamming the door shut behind you, you shove Todoroki/yourself into the small space, wincing as you watch him stumble in your body. Did you always seem this weak and small in his eyes? The sound of the lock clicking as you shut the door reminds you of the current situation and you turn on him, rage emanating from every pore of your being.

“I. Thought. I. Told. You. To. Put. On. A. Bra.” You’re hurt, and seriously pissed off, neatly trimmed nails digging into your thighs as you grip your pants. Humiliation courses through your body, pulsing behind your eyes in tears that you will not let fall, no matter what. “Is this some kind of joke? Are you trying to embarrass me-”

“No.” It’s disconcerting watching yourself speak and move, but subtle mannerisms remind you that it’s Todoroki you’re looking at, not yourself in the mirror. “I wouldn’t do that to you, I swear.”

“Then what is this?” You wave your hand at your body, flinching at what others must be whispering about you. “Do you want people to think I’m some sort of crazy person who goes around practically flashing people at their workplace? Someone who has no sense of decency?”

“Of course not.” His tone is as even as ever, but you can tell that he feels bad. “People here know what type of person you are. I’m sure they’re more concerned than anything.”

The fabric of his blue hero suit unscrunches as your hands drop to your sides, chest heaving as you take a deep breath. “I hope so.”

There’s vulnerability in your voice, and for a second you find peace in the quiet of the moment before he ruins it. “Besides, I’m more worried about my reputation than yours right now.”

You look up indignantly. “Why? I did everything you asked, and I’m fully dressed so I’m not sure why you’re complaining.”

He winces as your voice raises (maybe the coffee hasn’t kicked in yet) but he hides it quickly. “I mean, from their point of view, they just watched me forcibly drag my subordinate off and locked myself in a bathroom with her. They probably have all sorts of unseemly ideas about what I’m doing right now.”

You freeze. Shit. You hadn’t even considered what it would look like to the others. “I’m so sorry. We can explain this to everyone. Like you told me, everyone here also knows you, and that you would never do anything inappropriate.” 

“It’s fine.” He gives you a genuine, yet slightly strained smile. “I’m not too concerned. However, your body doesn’t feel great.”

‘What’s wrong?” You reach out and touch his forehead. “You don’t have a fever.” Glancing down, you sigh. “First things first let's make you decent. You literally brought the bra. Why aren’t you wearing it?”

“The best way I can describe it is it’s similar to the time I accidentally ate Bakugou’s extra spicy curry, except it’s not in my stomach. It’s more in my abdomen. And I meant to wear it, I just couldn’t figure out how to get it on.”

“Okay. I can help with that.” You motion for him to lift his arms. “Take off your shirt.”

He lifts an eyebrow. “Is now really the time?” The bathroom is silent as you give him a death look. “It’s my body. There is quite literally nothing about the body you are currently inhabiting that I do not already know about. Now, shirt. I’ll help put the bra on.”

Understanding that you were not in the mood, he hurriedly pulls the shirt off, and you’re presented with the sight of your bare torso. Ignoring the strange intimacy of the moment (it was literally your own body you had no idea why you felt weird) you help him slip his arms into the straps, then motion for him to turn around. 

He complies, and that’s when you see it. The relatively small, but somewhat noticeable stain on your crotch in the back of your pants. That’s why he wasn’t feeling good. Your body started your period.

The clasp of the bra dangles in your hands as you stare at it, evaluating your choices. One. You could pretend like nothing is happening but chances are he’s going to have to pee at some point during the day so he’ll find out eventually. Plus the stain wasn’t small.

Two. Be the mature, rational adult you are and calmly explain the situation. After all, there was nothing to be ashamed of. It’s a perfectly normal, perfectly natural, biological function that comes with being a female.

And three. Just leave and go crawl into your bed until this nightmare is over. Let him deal with it himself. 

Option number three was looking pretty good there for a moment and you were calculating how fast you could escape the agency without drawing attention when Todoroki spoke. 

“Everything okay? Why aren’t you doing the hook things?” Snapping out of your trance, you clumsily clasp the back, taking several tries to get all the hooks in the same row. Patting it, you tell him to put the shirt back on before taking a deep breath. “Hey, Todoroki?”

Wisps of hair emerge from the neckline of your shirt, followed closely by your head as he pops into your shirt. “Yes?”

“So like, it’s going to be okay and I swear I’ll help you and I’m sorry you have to deal with this but please whatever you do, don’t freak out. Promise?” He tilts his head slightly, regarding you with confusion. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but if you say it’ll be okay I don’t see why I would feel the need to freak out.”

His calm response puts you somewhat at ease, and you just rip the bandaid off. “My body just started it’s period. With you in it. That’s why your abdomen was hurting. It was period cramps. Don’t worry, I’ll get you some advil soon. There’s a small stain on the back of your pants, but it’s not bad yet. However, it’s really heavy on my first day so we’re going to need to get a tampon in and a pad on asap.”

A blank stare is your only response. “What…is a tampon? And what does heavy mean? Also, does it always hurt this bad?” A small furrow appears between his brows, and you can tell he’s overthinking.

“Normally it’s only this bad for a few days, but I’m used to it by now.” You reassure him, grabbing a tampon and pad from the free dispenser on the wall. “And to answer your question, a tampon is basically a fancy roll of material that goes up there and absorbs the blood.”

You’re doing your best to remain calm and unbothered on the outside, but on the inside you’re losing your mind because there was absolutely no way that you were about to teach your crush how to insert a tampon into your cooch because you managed to swap bodies on the worst possible day.

He looks at you pensively as you approach him with the hygiene products. “Okay. What do you want me to do?”

You pause, considering. How did you want to do this? It would be weird for you to put it in yourself, even if it was your body. The packaging crinkles in your hands as you turn the items over in your hand. The easiest route would be to have him just put the pad on, but you also didn’t want him to deal with the mess and discomfort of sitting in a pad. 

“Alright.” You clap your hands, the sharp sound echoing off the clean linoleum floors. “We’ll get a pad on first, then we’ll try the tampon. Ready?”

“Yes. How do I do that?” Okay. You can explain this. It’s not that complicated. “First things first, pull down your pants and underwear and sit on the toilet.”

A rustle of clothing and the click of the toilet seat against the porcelain bowl told you he had complied. “Wait, but like, don’t look okay. Keep your eyes averted.”

“Understood.” You choose to ignore the amusement in his voice, instead grabbing another pad and giving him a demo. Feeling guilty about the waste, you rip open one of the packages and pull out the pad. It’s thick, and made of cheap material like all free pads in public bathrooms tended to be.

Holding it up so he can see you demonstrate peeling the tab and unfolding it before peeling the sticky back off and showing it to him. 

“Basically you just have to remove the covering and stick it to the bottom of your underwear. Make sense?”

He nods, so you pass him the pad and watch him carefully peel back the appropriate backings and smooth it into the center of your panties. His eyes gleam at you hopefully as he looks up, and when you tell him he did a good job you could have sworn he preened. 

“Good job Todoroki.” A subtle frown pulls at his lips. “So for the tampon-”

“Shouto.” He cuts you off, looking disgruntled. “Call me Shouto.”

“I-What?” Thrown off guard by the sudden demand request you blink at him. “I don’t see how that’s relevant to what’s going on right now, but you’re my boss. It doesn’t seem right for me to address you so casually.”

“But you call me Shouto while we’re at work.” He stubbornly refuses to give the point up, clinging to it like a dog with their chew toy. “How is it any different?”

“Because-” You give him an exasperated look. “Some idiot decided to make his hero name his first name, so when he’s at work his co-workers are forced to use it. I don’t call you Shouto as in Todoroki Shouto. I call you Shouto as in Pro-Hero Shouto. That’s the difference.”

“But we’ve known each other for years.” He’s very matter of fact, clearly missing the point. “I would say we’re close enough for first names.”

He’s unbelievable. Of all the things to focus on right now why on earth is he choosing to argue over how you address him? “Of course we’re close. I consider you a good friend. But I wouldn’t say we’re close enough where it’s appropriate for me to address you by your first name when you’re my boss.”

“I’m currently in a bathroom with you right now, in your body, sitting on a toilet with no pants, on your period. I don’t see how we can possibly get any closer.” He had a point, and you just wanted to get this whole disaster sorted out as quickly as possible so you conceded. “Fine. Shouto. Now, will you please listen to me so we can get this over with and go on with our day?”

Using demonstrative hand motions and trying not to show how flustered you were you explained how to put the tampon in. Finally you finish, and hand him a tampon. He unwraps it, then hunches over in an awkward position trying to see what he was doing.

A red flush crawls up your neck as he quite literally examines your pussy, your insecurities running rampant, thoughts you’ve never had before occurring. Like, what if it looks weird? You didn’t exactly have a huge frame of reference, and all of your past experiences were horny hookups so you literally had no idea what it looked like from his point of view. He was probably repulsed by it. If everything that already happened hadn’t ruined any chance you had with him this was the final nail in the coffin.

A quiet splash cuts through the silence of the bathroom, interrupting your downward spiral. Looking up, you lock eyes with Todoroki, who’s frozen guiltily on the toilet.

“What just happened?”

“I, er, well I’m not sure.” Your eyes narrow. “What was the splash?”

“I did my best.” He sounds defensive. “I had a hard time finding…it…and it’s not easy to line it up and I think I did it wrong because as soon as I put it in it kind of just…spat it back out?”

Gaping at him, you’re at a loss for words before a loud, unflattering cackle rips itself out of your chest. The self-consciousness caused by the strangeness of the moment and being in the presence of your crush fading away as you reverted to treating him like you did in high school.

“Oh-Oh my god!” You’re doubled over, almost crying with how hard you’re laughing. “You can’t find it. You can’t even find the hole. You must be so popular with the ladies.”

As you laugh, a strange sensation builds in your stomach, and next thing you know it feels like you’re getting sucked into a vacuum and shot out the other end. Your vision goes black and fuzzy, the fluorescent lighting of the bathroom hurting your eyes when you finally open them.

When you finally open them and find yourself staring into the unimpressed face of one Todoroki Shouto that is. 

Seeing his face again instead of staring at yours is a relief, but it’s also unfortunate because now you are the one perched on the toilet, your pants hanging around your ankles and a tampon floating around in the toilet water beneath you. 

The two of you lock eyes, and you realize that now you’ve both returned to your own bodies it’s even worse that he’s seeing you half naked (don’t ask you why it just is somehow. Maybe it has something to do with him seeing it from his point of view instead of yours?). 

Embarrassment floods your face, and you yell at him to turn around, hurriedly grabbing another tampon and putting it in before using your quirk to retrieve the tampon from the toilet and dumping it into the trash. A rushed tug has your pants back on, and the two of you stand in the bathroom not moving or speaking. Finally you break the silence.

“Uh, well, anyways. I’m glad this all worked out, sorry for the inconvenience and how weird it was. I’m going to head home and enjoy my day off now. Have a nice day!”

Not giving him the chance to respond, you dart past him and out the door, ignoring him as he calls your name. Yeah right. Have a nice day? More like have a nice life. There was no way you could ever show your face around him again. Maybe you could call Kyoka up and ask her if she needed a new hero at the agency she shared with Denki.

Unfortunately, life doesn’t always go as planned, and you wake up the next morning to your phone buzzing. You called in sick the night before, partially because your cramps were really bothering you, and partially because you were avoiding Todoroki. 

Blearily, you roll over, pawing at your phone before lifting it to your ear. “Hello?”

“Good morning.” Immediately recognizing the smooth, deep voice belonging to none other than the one man you were actively trying to avoid, you do the only logical thing and hang up immediately. 

A couple seconds later your phone rings again, and this time you let it go to voicemail. The sharp trill of your ringtone reaches you through the pillow you pressed over your head, alerting you that he called several more times after that. Finally the calls stop, and you emerge from under the pillows, beating back the strange sense of disappointment rising in your chest.

Ping!

The sound of your phone chiming startles you, causing you to drop it. Picking it back up, you check your notifications with bated breath.

(1) New Message From: Todoroki Shouto

Scared to read the message, you hesitate to click on it, having no idea what to expect. Your thumb hovers over the banner, the light washing over your skin as you work up the courage to check it.

Ping!

Your phone lands on your carpet with a plop as you accidentally drop it over the edge of your bed, not expecting it to go off again.

Ping! Ping!

Cautiously, you poke your head over the edge of your bed, glancing down at the illuminated lock screen. You let out an internal screech of horror.

(4) New Messages From: Todoroki Shouto

Unable to deal with the agony of not knowing what he said any longer, you scoop your phone up and tap the notification, scanning the messages, your heart dropping further and further the more you read.

Todoroki Shouto: Did you just hang up on me?

I’ll be at your place in fifteen minutes. Do you want anything?

*image attached*

Also: are these the chocolates you’re fond of? I asked my mother and sister and they told me they enjoy chocolate when they are menstruating. 

Those are, in fact, your favorite chocolates, but as much as you wanted them you wanted him at your apartment in fifteen minutes even less. The sound of aggressive tapping filled your room as you typed out a response at breakneck speed, praying to whatever was out there that he wouldn’t actually come to your place.

You: Good morning Todoroki-San. I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize it was you and hung up because I was half asleep. It’s sweet of you to think of me, but those are expensive. Also, I’m taking the day off today so is there any possible way the matter you have to discuss could wait until tomorrow? Thanks!

A couple seconds after you hit send, the little label beneath the message changed from “delivered” to “read.” Then radio silence. Anxiety bubbles up in the pit of your stomach? What does read mean? Did he agree with you? Is he still coming? Too drained to deal with the emotional turmoil this was causing you, you rolled over and pulled your covers up over your head. This was a problem for future you.

Drifting off, you were awakened a short time later by your phone chiming once, then again a few minutes later, and the sound of your doorbell ringing. Surely it wasn’t…Half-closing your eyes to shield against the harsh glow of your phone, you unlock it.

(2) New Messages From: Todoroki Shouto

Todoroki Shouto: I’m here. Open your door.

I didn’t want to tell you over text, but you aren’t responding. Bakugou says I have romantic feelings for you and I think he is correct. He also said you’ve been “a mooney-eyed moron” for me since we were in high school. If that is true and you do feel the same way, please let me in. I would like to see you and care for you while you are on your cycle.

Three dots appear, signaling that he’s typing. A couple seconds later, your phone chimes again, not even giving you a moment to process the previous messages.

Todoroki Shouto: Our former classmates also unanimously agreed that I am, in fact, popular with the ladies. I’ll forgive your comment if you let me in. The old lady who lives next door to you is giving me suspicious looks. 

You blink. Rub your eyes. Squint closer at your screen. The words didn’t change, and neither did their meaning. And Todoroki wasn’t the type of person to joke around like this. Your mouth suddenly felt dry, and your pulse thundered in your ears as you realized there was only one thing left to do.

You had to get out of bed and let him into your apartment.

taglist: @arlerts-angel @ponderingmoonlight @sunaraii @hotvinimon

as always, please please please let me know if you want to be added to or removed from any of my taglists. tysm for reading, and i hope you enjoyed it!!

[shiinata-library]

Imagine: You can speak to animals in Middle-Earth

Thorin, Fíli, Kíli, Bilbo's reactions when they understand you can speak to animals in Middle-Earth

N/A: I haven't written in English for a while. I may be rusty…

[ 📚 Main Imagines Masterlist 📚 ]

Thorin

“The inn is this way,” you say to Thorin several times during the journey when he is lost in towns that you pass through. Or something like “I think the stable with our ponies is at your right, then at your left.” Or, “Oh, Balin is looking for you at the town's entrance, hm, straight on, then left after the bakery.”

At the beginning of the journey, it surprised you how many times Thorin could be lost. But now, you eventually get used to it. 

The only thing you’re not used to is the look on his face every time you help him. Surprised and suspicious. While you just want to help him…

Well, could you tell him it's some ravens that are letting you know when he needs help? “The king is looking for Master Balin.” “The king doesn’t walk in the right direction.” “My lady, the king wants to go to the inn.” They are polite but they never give you the choice…

Other animals speak sometimes with you and you love to listen to them. It’s surprising how much you can learn with them. The best place for that is in Beorn’s house. Thanks to his hospitality, you can walk around his house and speak to animals you have never spoken to before. It’s fun and it especially changes your mind after everything has happened during the journey.

Yet, when you thought ravens have let you in peace, two of them come for you in an evening. You have just finished dinner and the night has almost fallen. They ask for help, explaining their baby is trapped in an orc’s trap. At first, you want to refuse : it’s almost night, Beorn is already out in bear’s form, and some orcs are also soon out.

But you can’t let a baby raven die, right? So you follow them in the forest behind Beorn house. A forest that looks welcoming by day, but much less so at night.

Thanks to other animals' help, you finally find the trap, more or less quickly, and free the little one. As he thanks you, you notice the silence around you, especially the ravens. Then, you notice the darkness of the forest. You remain motionless until you hear a voice behind you.

“What are you doing here?” a cold, hard male voice says behind as you turn to him and realise it’s only Thorin. Even in the dark, it’s impossible not to recognise his voice.

Damn, your heart is dead by now. You don’t even find the good words. “It’s our fault, my King,” one of the ravens says as he comes closer to you on a branch. He explains everything to Thorin while you look at him astonished.

“Don’t tell me he could understand you from the start!” you say, upset as you turn to the raven. “Why did you use me all this time if he could understand?” you progressively raise your voice, ignoring where you are.

“Roäc is the only raven I can understand,” Thorin says. “But now is not the time to speak. Let’s go back to–” When he stops talking, you shiver. You can feel you’re not alone. The ravens and the other animals are already left. Thorin suddenly takes your hand and pulls it. You start a quick sprint to Beorn’s house and you’re glad no orcs found you. 

You enter the house out-of-breath. Thorin turns to you, not making the effort to hide his anger. He shouts at you that you should never have gone outside, that you’re stupid, that you could die easy. And like Bilbo before, that you shouldn't be here with them. 

Oh, hm, it really hurts to hear all of that. You remain silent, looking down until you notice he is still holding your hand. His hand is so big but warm. Oh. Hm. It’s hot all of a sudden, isn’t it? 

“Well,” he starts, clearing his throat. “I’m sorry if Roäc bothered you many times. And thank you for saving his little one.” Is he embarrassed? Oh, you would give anything to have more light to see if he is blushing!

“It’s nothing. He and other ravens helped me during the journey, so it's normal.” Now you look him in the eye, you don’t know what to add. He also seems engrossed by your eyes.

Maybe something could have happened. Well, only if his nephews didn’t enter the room abruptly, shouting they were looking for him. Or maybe it's just postponed for another time…

Fíli 

“Kíli is looking for you,” you say to Fíli once you find him cleaning one of his swords among a lot of them scattered on the floor. An impressive collection that you always wonder if you already saw all of them or not. “This time is because Dwalin has made fun of him and he wants revenge. It seems he can’t leave without you less than an hour,” you resume, smiling as you see him putting away his swords one by one. “The maximum was three days,” he replies, laughing at his own answer. “I'm surprised you found me before him.”

Can you tell him you asked for help from a bird and a dog? The town where you stopped isn’t big but it seems that Kíli couldn’t find his brother ; or maybe it was Fíli who didn't want us to find him. Anyway, you offered your help and with your capacity, it’s always easy to find someone, in exchange for some food or other information. Animals are easier to convince than humans.

“I guess I’m lucky,” you answer, shrugging as you start to walk with him. “Speaking of luck, you should speak to Oín about your recent injury. It could become infected.” Despite your serious tone, he looks at you with a smile, the radiant smile that swings the beads from his moustache, but doesn’t say anything about it. When you join his brother, they immediately start to plan to take revenge on Dwalin, leaving you to your own business before Kíli asks for your help.

During the journey, you notice Fíli disappears sometimes for a short time. You guess you need time alone when you’re a prince with an uncle like Thorin and a brother like Kíli. Even Dwalin and Balin seem to expect a lot from him. It looks exhausting, even from where you are. But, you always eventually find him when someone is looking for him, and luckily for you, he is never upset with it.

Yet, one evening when you were looking for him because Thorin needs him, you got lost in the forest. Because of the darkness of the night, your foot catches on a root and you fall suddenly to the ground. Great, now you’re hurt in addition to being lost…

You chose to sit down for a while, waiting for the pain to pass. Then, you strangely notice there are no animals around you to help you. It’s not good. Not good at all. The only time you didn't find animals in a forest was when there was an orc camp nearby. 

When you wait in this kind of situation, it’s hard to know how much time passes, but the forest is totally dark when you decide to go back to the company’s camp. Now, you can only count on your luck to find the right path and not to meet orcs…

You barely walk when you hear silent branches crackling not far from you. Just a few metres from you, one orc with a small lantern is walking. An orc scout. You don’t have time to take out your weapon that he is already running after you.

When you are about to run, a raven rushes to his face, blinding him, while someone comes from nowhere and kills him without a sound. The lantern falls in the ground and you recognise Fíli. The raven doesn’t wait to fly away, letting you both alone while he crushes the lantern and the fire with his foot.

“How did you find me?” you ask, surprised, as he takes your hand and starts walking away. “Wait, my foot is hurt, I can’t walk fast…”

He stops his steps and takes you on his back as if you weighed nothing. Oh, his hair smells like earth and metal. “My uncle’s raven helped me,” he eventually says as he starts walking. “And some of your friends showed me the forest but my uncle’s raven was the only one who wanted to go with me in this forest’s part.”

“My friends?” you frown. “A squirrel, a bird and, hm, a frog,” he says. “The last one was really hard to follow.”

You stay silent for a moment, understanding he knows you can talk to animals. “How do you know?” you eventually ask, shyly hidden behind his back.

You hear him laugh first as you both get out of the forest, seeing the company's camp nearly. “You talked with all the animals you meet. It's not hard to guess.” 

“So, everyone knows?” you exclaim, glad to be out of the forest given the volume of your voice. “I don't think so,” he says as you breathe in relief. “But I can ask them if they know about it.” 

You don't need to see him to know he's smiling. You travel enough with him and his brother to know when they take advantage of a situation. “What do you want to hold your tongue?” you ask, a little upset. “Nothing,” he replies as he puts you on the ground, his smile widening when he sees your annoyed expression. “Nothing yet,” he hurries to resume. “Let me think about it and I'll tell you.” 

As you both almost join the company's camp, the light of the fire shows his proud face. You don't know what you should expect from his future request, but you know he already enjoys it…

Kíli 

If there is something you enjoy the most in this journey, it’s teasing Kíli. His reactions are always entertaining!

It started at the beginning of the journey when he asked the company where his knife was. Thanks to a little bird’s murmur, you found it for him. He was very surprised. It was honestly so cute. 

Now the journey continues and you often answer his questions. You can even predict the rain. It’s amazing for you and troubling for him. Maybe you should tell him the truth before he imagines anything. But, well, his expressions are too cute and innocent to stop. 

Some dwarves are still suspicious about you, and this doesn't get better with all your answers. So, you would like to avoid Kíli and his questions, but it’s impossible. You’re becoming more and more friends with him, and he often speaks with you, especially in the evening after dinner, when everyone is busy with their own things. (In truth, his brother is also often with you both, when he is not with his uncle and Balin.)

Yet, something changes when you arrive in Beorn’s home. When you realise the skin-changer can also, more or less, speak with animals, you spend a lot of time with him. Used to live alone, you thought you were bothering him, but he seemed interested in talking to you about some animals, their habits, their preferences or the manner to ask them a service. 

So, as Kíli doesn’t know about your ability, he doesn’t understand your obsession for him. “Obsession” may be an exaggeration, but he really misses you. He tries to speak with you, but you often say that you’re busy with Beorn.

A night when Kíli notices you’re not sleeping yet, he looks for you in the house. His worry increases when he doesn’t find you and nobody can tell him where you are. Even if Beorn told them not to go out at night, he ends up outside, walking around the house. 

“No! Don’t get too close to me like that!” he hears you exclaim in the distance. “Don’t force me to use my strength against you!” Then he realises your voice is coming from in the barn behind the house. “No, stop! I already told you not to touch me like that!” Alright, Kíli is now running to you, abruptly opening the front door.

Following Beorn’s instructions, you spend your evenings talking to some animals and all the animals have their own personality. And this bloody dog is too affectionate and full of energy to speak with.

When Kíli enters, he shouts your name, waking up all the animals in the barn. He can’t understand them, but they’re furious against him. He runs to you until he notices the dog next to you. “What’s happening here? Are you hurt? Who is touching you? Even if he is very tall, if Beorn tries–”

“What are you talking about? Beorn didn’t do anything!” you suddenly say, standing up. Then, the dog you were talking with pokes you in the leg with his muzzle. “No, he is not!” you whisper, visibly embarrassed.

“He is not what?” Kíli asks, raising an eyebrow. You start to walk to the exit, but the dog is following you. 

“Yet, you seem important to him!” the dog barks as he walks before you and goes out when you open the door. “He often looks at you during the day. Even his brother is sick of hearing him talk about you all the time.”

“Stop saying nonsense. Join the others for the night and we’ll continue tomorrow,” you reply, not noticing that Kíli looks at you talking to the dog until the dog barks again before leaving. “So, ask him what he dreamt about yesterday night, you will know!”

The dog finally runs away, leaving you and Kíli alone walking to Beorn’s house. He stays silent, hoping you would explain what happened. Yet, you surprise him so much by asking him what his dream was last night that he can’t help but blush and lose his words. His eyes suddenly open wide and he even takes a step back. He was far from imagining that you would ask that question and you clearly understand it when he quickly wishes you a good night before leaving you alone in the entrance.

You stay a while thinking about what happened until you choose to go to sleep, hoping the dog will be talkative tomorrow.

Bilbo 

Talking to animals is so great. In exchange for information or services, they can tell you a lot of things, especially where the best fruits or nuts are. You’re clearly never hungry.

And it didn't escape the hobbit's notice! Bombur or some others saw it too, but they are still too suspicious about you to speak to you. So one afternoon, usually at tea time, Bilbo approaches you on his pony and asks you where you find your apple. You’re happy someone other than Gandalf talks to you, so you gladly tell him and give one from your bag.

That’s how you started your friendship with Mr Baggins. You even call him “Bilbo” now. But you never dared tell him your capacity. He'd think you were crazy, wouldn't he?

Bilbo knows you hide something from him, but everyone has their secrets, so he never asks you how you find those fruits and nuts. It’s only in Mirkwood that he discovers your ability. 

Mirkwood, as everyone else, turns your head and you have trouble staying focused. It’s only when the spiders attack that you notice you aren’t with the company but you can still hear them shouting in the distance. A giant spider finds you, then another. It’s clearly impossible to flee, so let’s try talking?

Well. You try the same technique that Bilbo used with the trolls, but they are more intelligent than them. “It’s the first time a meal can understand us. It’s amusing, don’t you think?” one says to the other. “You’re right, let’s enjoy it a little longer.” 

They talk to you until you don’t hear anything but them. No dwarves’ shouting anymore. Some other spiders join their friends and now, you’re in the middle of a circle of so many giant spiders that you’re ready to faint. You continue to speak, hoping the elves will be here any minute.

But to your surprise, you hear one of the spiders cries and falls, then another. But you don’t see any elf. 

Then Bilbo appears, provokes the spiders, runs far away before disappearing again. All the spiders run in his direction, leaving you alone. You take advantage of it to free the dwarves and then, the elves finally find you like they should have.

After the elves’ dungeons and the escape, it’s only on the freezing Bard’s boat that you can speak again with Bilbo. You sit next to him, wrapping yourself to keep you warm. “I haven't had time to thank you for the spiders yet…” you say, knowing he saw you talk to them. “They seemed to enjoy chatting with you,” he chuckles. 

“I prefer to chat with you,” you say, closing your eyes and letting your head fall on his shoulders. Some dwarves smile but remain silent. You can’t see it but Bilbo’s face has never been so warm despite the cold of the lake.

[envy-of-the-apple]

Moon Starves Sun

Dark!Gojo Satoru x reader

Part one: Sun Eats Moon

Part two: Earth Kills Moon

Part three: Moon Starves Sun(Full part)

Synopsis: The aftermath of 'Sun Eats Moon' in Satoru's perspective.

(Warnings: implied sex, forced relationships)

When Satoru's close like this, he can hear your heartbeat. 

It's been a while. Ten years. An entire decade. Everything about this is different, yet so familiar. He feels like he's finally reached the shores, feeling the warm sands underneath his feet. Like he's been given his favorite food after being starved for years. Everything melts. Everything except for you. 

He'd like to stay like this forever, listening to your rabbit heartbeat, feeling your soft skin, but for your sake, he pulls himself off you. Lying on a wooden desk probably isn't that comfortable. 

Your eyes are shut. Your breathing is shallow. You're so pretty like this under the moonlight. Your clothes are barely hanging onto your body. He can see every mark he's left on you. Part of him wants to make more, but he'll let you off the hook for now. He's nice like that. 

"Still with me?" 

Your eyes flutter open. You don't respond, but at least you're not crying anymore. He can work with that. 

"C'mon, pretty girl," he says, voice soft, "let's piece you back together." 

The belt left lines on your wrists. He'll kiss them better later. For now, Satoru collects your clothes and heels from the floor, placing them on the desk. He helps you reclasp your bra, runs his fingers on your arms when you finish buttoning your blouse. It's a quiet affair. Every so often, he'd catch your eyes. You don't let yourself linger for long. Satoru finds that a little cute. 

You say nothing when he wraps an arm around your waist, guiding you out of his office. Maybe you're still dazed, still gathering yourself back up, because you don't struggle as much as he predicted. You try to leave his grip when the two of you reach the lobby. He's quick to stop you. 

"Where, do you think you're goin'?" He grips your wrist when you take a step away. 

You look at him, eyes shimmering like water. 

You swallow. "My apartment. I—I need to go back—" 

He clicks his tongue, bringing you back in. 

"We can get your stuff later." He tells you with a grin. "let's just go home, tonight. I'm exhausted." 

You open your mouth. Satoru waits. You say nothing, and he thinks you're starting to get it. 

The moon is a dusky red tonight. Satoru thinks it's an ugly color. 

☾

If Satoru could describe you in one word, it would be: predicatable. 

Normal, boring, a speck in the crowd—none of these are bad things. Just like how much of the universe is nothing, you're an empty void, too. Not everyone can be like him. From the minute he was born, Satoru was destined for greatness—a prodigy, heir to a millionaire conglomerate, the Sun itself. His life isn't written on his forehead for everyone to read. 

You are the exact opposite. Completely unassuming. He practically knows everything about you without even having to ask. 

Like how Satoru can instantly tell you've never been over to a boy's room before. 

You've probably never even been in a relationship before him, either. Even before he managed to corral you into his arms, you were always so annoying about the other things like school and friends. Though, you don't really have much of the latter anymore. His fault, Suguru never fails to remind him. 

He watches as your eyes linger over his shelf: the numerous trophies and awards. You're still standing meekly in the corner, still garbed in your school uniform, clutching your backpack. He has to roll his eyes at how obviously you're trying not to look at him. 

"What're you waitin' for?" He finally asks. You jump, eyes flitting over to find him before you find the floor. He resists the urge to roll his eyes again.

It's not like you two haven't done shit before. You sucked him off twice now, and he's finger fucked you against the bleachers. You should really stop being such a prude. 

"C'mere, pretty girl." 

***full version of pt 3 is on a03 and account restricted. in the process of censoring the fic so it can be posted on tumblr**

[writerwrabbleswords]

The worst | [Worst] Wolverine/Logan X [Male Iron Man variant] Reader

Logan hates the void, but he hates it a little less after he meets a bearable Tony Stark - except you aren't exactly a Tony Stark he recognizes.

Quick Notes : I haven't actually written for Logan before, but I'm obsessed after Deadpool and Wolverine so... Here we go. I might write a part two, but I'm not sure yet.

Story Details : Deadpool & Wolverine spoilers, Reader is male but referred to with 'You/Your' pronouns, about 800 or so words, light angst, Logan drinking (obviously), cliffhanger ending.

  Logan disliked the void; he disliked it nearly as much as he disliked Wade, which was a lot. Through the entire thing - the fight in the damn honda odyssey, getting the hell away from Cassandra, even getting brought to the resistance hideout - the only thing he wanted to do was down a few bottles of booze and crash for the night. The conversation he’d had with Laura made him feel… odd. It was hard to explain, and Logan wasn’t exactly known for being ‘in touch’ with his feelings. Hell, he preferred to drown them in alcohol over talking about them or even feeling them. 

  The mutant was drawn from his thoughts (and the bottle in his hand) when the door to the resistance opened, your form entering the hideout. He felt his nose scrunch - the stranger smelled like rust and metal, an unpleasant combination. You looked up from something in your hand, glancing at Logan before giving a curt nod and moving towards the nearby table. It was then that he caught sight of a slight blue glow just peeking out from overtop your undone top buttons; an arc reactor. Logan grit his teeth, tearing his eyes away as he downed half the bottle - of course he’d have to deal with a damn Tony Stark variant, it couldn’t have been that Wade was awake, it had to be him.

 A grunt from you pulled his attention back towards you, his gaze soon affixing to what was in your hand - or more accurately, on your arm. It was a repulsor gauntlet, probably part of a full suit if he had to guess, with the paint faded and scratched. With only a glance, he had a feeling you’d been here a long while. 

  “You’re the first Wolverine I’ve seen here,”

  Your voice cut through Logans’ thoughts, and he couldn’t help the bitter scoff that left him - of course you’d know who he was. Shaking his head, he approached your spot at the table, taking a seat across from you as he watched. You were fiddling with your repulsor gauntlet, the screwdriver in your hand digging between the metal plates as you scowled. For a brief moment, he locked eyes with you. Huh. It was then that he fully took in your form - really looked - and noticed that you weren’t quite the Tony Stark he was used to; you didn’t even look like a Tony Stark.

  “You gonna’ tell me how you got here, or are you gonna’ keep staring at me while I work?”

  Logan huffed at your question, bringing the bottle of booze to his lips as he regarded you. He didn’t particularly want to talk - especially to a damn Iron Man - but he relented, the alcohol flowing through his system loosening his tongue.

  “The jackass known as Wade got us both stuck here,” you paused at his words, arching a brow as Logan took a swig, “He pulled me from my universe to try and save his.”

  He could tell something about his words had struck a nerve because the moment he mentioned his own universe, you all but glared down at your gauntlet, your movements with the screwdriver less controlled and precise.

  “Least you’ll get a chance to leave,” came your bitter words.

  It was now the mutants’ turn to raise a brow, his eyes watching you - analyzing you - for any sign of what set you off. He looked away, tipping the bottle of alcohol back as the liquor slid down his throat.

  “You been stuck here a while?” Logan found himself asking, surprising both you and himself.

  Even more surprising, you looked up from your gauntlet and nodded, your expression softening as you tossed the screwdriver onto the table and sighed,

  “Been here longer than most. Had the TVA approach me to join the fuckin’ ‘sacred timeline’ or whatever, and when I turned it down - tried to warn the Avengers - they sent me here. I got every one of my mates killed.” Logan frowned, but didn’t interrupt. Even to him, it was clear you didn’t often talk about your past, “Cassandra’s been tryin’ to get me on her side for ages now, but I refuse. I’m a genius, not a fuckin’ lap dog for some deranged bitch.”

  That got a bark of laughter from the mutant, who shook his head in amusement; you had the signature ‘Tony Stark’ cockiness, arrogance might have been a better word, but you seemed more down to earth than the one he’d known of back in his universe. You seemed to have a shadow following you, something hidden to everyone that kept you locket away; it was something he could relate to.

  “You got a name they call you?” Logan asked, taking another swig from his pilfered bottle of alcohol.

  You hummed, returning your focus to your repulsor gauntlet as you picked up the screwdriver once more,   “I’m the worst Iron Man.”

[slutsareteacherstoo]

I Hope - A Terry Richmond Drabble Part 1

Phew y'all I'm so nervous! I wrote this short drabble with "I Hope" by Lizzie Berchie on repeat. It's such a hypnotic song (yearners beware!)

Wrote this for the ones seeking something a little softer, sweeter with Terry. Chile idk how to do the tags. But OC Savannah is Black.

I haven't written anything in soooo long but writing this made me feel so good so I hope you like it. Lol please don't expect anything from me in the future I'm just throwing my hat in the ring.

Black Fem! OC - Savannah (dark skinned, curvy, and disabled) x Terry Richmond (Gentle!Terry, Sweet!Terry, Nervous!Terry)

Very much safe for work! | 1k+ words | Fluff

[PART 2] [PART 3] [PART 4]

There is something special

I don't wanna miss it

I'm feeling celestial

You touching my spirit

You touching my spirit

Terry lowered himself on the balls of his feet. His black socks in contrast with the cream-colored rug he was on. He met Savannah at eye level as she sit at the edge of the bed. His eyes were a world of intent, passion and care. He searched her dark brown ones. They were ones filled with yearning and timid anticipation. The only sounds in the room Terry cared about were Savannah’s. Her breathing for one. They were shaky, shallow breaths. He and Savannah had had so many conversations prior to this moment, to assure her that they’d take things at her pace. That he wouldn’t step out or look for anyone else, just because she needed to go slower than he was used to. No one else was on his mind, only her. He was utterly and totally ruined by the woman in front of him. His heart was hers only. And he needed her to know that. He needed to show her — slowly and steadily.

Terry bent forward, cupping Savannah’s face in his hands. She leaned into his left hand and gave him a small smile.

“Hi,” Savannah said aloud, trying her damndest not to break eye contact.

“Hey,” Terry said mirroring Savannah’s smile, only he had more crinkles in his eyes.

The two let out a short laugh. Savannah broke her self-started staring contest and looked away. But Terry’s eyes never left Savannah. Returning her attention to Terry, she couldn’t help but be bashful and blush. Savannah felt the heat rush to her cheeks and knew Terry could too. He began to move his lips side to side, as if trying to stifle a…smile? A laugh?

“What?” Savannah chuckled. She was eyeing him more intently now, while he was the one to be evasive. “ What?” Savannah said again raising an eyebrow. When their gazes met yet again, Savannah felt a bolt of electricity zip through her body.

“It’s you,” Terry said. “I just—you really do blush orange.” The two laughed together. Savannah thought back to when she’d shared that tidbit with him. That under her deep brown skin, the neutral undertones gave way to the hue, to her tell.

Terry thumbed small circles on Savannah’s right cheek.  It was a way to keep the both of them in the moment, a reminder that this moment was real.

“I do,” Savannah admitted as she was back in the unstated staring contest. She could get lost in his eyes honestly— changing from stormy seas to clear skies, planets she wouldn’t mind being in orbit with. The room was silent for a beat, save for the pair’s breathing. Savannah’s had matched Terry’s now, more calm and measured. Then, Terry spoke,

“Savannah, baby” his voice was low and quiet but it commanded her as if it were a different level. “You are in control. When you wanna stop, we stop. When you wanna continue, we continue. We don’t go any further than any of us agree to. Nothing has to happen. And there will be many times after this one where things can.” 

Savannah loosened a bit at that, letting out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. She nodded and Terry continued.

“I got you. At every step, I got you. We’ll take it slow,” he brushed one of her coily tendrils behind her hair. “I’m not going anywhere”

Savannah could feel the tears well up, threatening to blur her vision. The rush of emotions going on inside her, being noisy and inconsiderate, were slowly fading. She felt more sure. So much so, that she took Terry’s face in her hands and pressed a kiss to his lips. He melted like he always did in her grasp and pulled her closer. She took in his bottom lip with fervor, as he let himself be drawn in. As she deepened the kiss, Savannah laid back against the bed, bringing Terry with her. Terry didn’t mind. Like he’d told her, she was in control. If all they did tonight was make out in her bed, he wouldn’t mind it at all. He couldn’t get enough of the feel of her lips and the taste of her tongue. Savannah couldn’t get enough of his scent, pine and rosemary mixed with his natural smell. It complemented her black chamomile and vanilla. Getting lost in the senses, Savannah hadn’t realized she was at the top of the bed, with Terry hovering over her. She opened her eyes and saw the want in his eyes. The look on his face was expectant yet cautious. Her own were a reflection of her newly settled self— this new way of being she was ready to embrace, to let free: eager and willing with a deep craving for the man above her.

“I’m ready,” she said nodding vigorously. “ I wanna try. I wanna try with you.” Terry nodded silently, moving forward to kiss across her forehead. Savannah bowed into it. He made his way from one temple to another, venturing to the side of her neck. He found himself inhaling her scent before kissing and sucking behind her ear. The moan Savannah let out surprised the both of them. It was short, high and sweet (as least Terry thought so). At the sound, he smiled into her neck, while Savannah used her hands to cover her face. Terry came out from the place behind her ear.

“Open your eyes,” Terry said firmly, still holding the utmost care and softness.

Savannah peeked out from behind splayed fingers. Terry lightly grasped her hands and put them at her sides. He’d placed his right hand under her chin, urging her to really see him when he said this.

“I don’t care what sounds you make. Nothing is too silly or too embarrassing. I’m not going to judge you for however your body wants to express itself, especially when you’re having a good time. Especially when you feel good. Because you deserve it. Do you understand me?”

“Yes.” she nodded. And with that, Terry brought his lips to Savannah’s once more before resuming his exploration of her with his lips, seeking out a more inclined Savannah, slowly and steadily releasing her inhibitions to let him in; but most importantly, allowing herself the opportunity — and hopefully more to come— to let go, to allow herself permission to feel good. Terry couldn’t wait to be of service to Savannah in that regard. He’d honor whatever wishes she desired, as long as she’d let him and have him. 

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

A/N: Okay y'all that's it. Watched some of The Underground Railroad today and a lot of the softness and tenderness Aaron performs Caesar with influenced this heavy.

I literally wrote this by hand in pencil, then typed it in the notes app and made minimal edits.

Also the only reason why i gave the character the name Savannah cuz the sound from Waiting to Exhale kept playing in my head. So minus the adultery, this is good man skskk

I also hope something like this for anybody reading it, especially if you need it (lord knows i do). Okay, bye sksksk 🫣🏃🏿‍♀️

[azrielwingspan]

RED SERPENT (Mob! Bucky x f!reader)

Summary: King and Queen of New York. The one who knows how to play the game, survives.

Warnings: Violence, mature content, sexual themes, foul language.

Disclaimer: I do not condone any of the actions written in this story.

You had always associated the colour blue with peace. Clear skies and vast oceans , their expanse making one seem insignificant. It grounded you and reminded you that there are greater forces at play.

That was a year ago.

Now, you associate the colour blue with James Bucky Buchanan Barnes.

King of New York.

The White Wolf.

Your husband.

Smoldering blue flames blazed in his eyes, all consuming and enrapturing. You were yet to figure out how they made you feel. For now, you watched as the steel blue gaze was directed at the man in front of him.

"This is the second time this month , Wilson. I'm going to give you a minute to explain." His tone indicated that he was anything but patient, brewing with explosive anger.

Sam Wilson was Bucky's head of security. His loyalty and discipline throughout the years was the only reason he was given time to explain himself. If it were anyone else, they'd be dead.

Reading the underlying threat in Bucky's words, Sam explained tensely, "There was a fire. Half the men were pulled to control it and the rest were reassigned. Whoever it was, struck then. The fire was the distraction."

A muscle ticked in Bucky's jaw as he restrained himself from lashing out. You sat by his side, ever the pretty wife, not moving an inch. Face devoid of any emotion, you leaned forward with feline like grace.

"Sam, how are you planning on luring the culprit?"

His eyes flicked to you, the slight relief passing through them not escaping your notice. You were far less intimidating than your darling husband. Albeit, far more venomous than anyone realized. One couldn't be married to a madman without having a certain...mental disposition.. as you liked to put it.

"We narrowed it down to Alexander Pierce. Haven't gotten the proof yet but his men's movements over the past few days suggest so."

"Interesting." you lean back in your seat, watching your husband from the corner of your eye. He seemed to calm down and collect his thoughts. Good.

That's how it had been over the past year. Bucky would lose his cool at the snap of a finger and you would garner attention in your direction to give him time to collect himself. A game. Every single moment of the day.

Power came to those who knew how to play the game.

"Did you deal with the police?" Bucky asked finally, his voice steady.

"Yeah, covered it up as a generator blast. Told our man in the department that we would deal with these fuckers on our own." Sam spat out, anger clouding his eyes.

Ugh, men. This was exactly what the other side wanted. Anger to cloud their vision.

Letting out a quiet sigh, you decided to intervene yet again. "Set up a bait."

Bucky's head finally snapped in your direction as you held back a smirk. You'd merely thrown a hint. They could build on it, couldn't they?

"That could work." Bucky said, his eyes roaming over your face. Turning back towards Sam, he continued "Another shipment scheduled a week from now. No product at all, just empty cargo. Increase security around the yard. Meanwhile, I'll redirect shipments and deal with the clients."

Sam nodded his head in agreement and stayed for a bit longer as the two smoothed out the plan. Not finding any reason to pipe in, you spent your time listening to them sipping on a glass of old fashioned.

After what seemed like hours, Sam finally left giving you a small nod in acknowledgement.

Silence ensued as Bucky got up with a groan and poured himself a glass of whisky.

Taking a sip, he smacked his lips before saying "You know the difference between you and me, Y/N?"

He took another sip of his whisky and flicked the glass with his other hand. “We’re drinking the same damn thing. The only difference is I like my whisky neat and you decorate it with fancy shit to make it seem more sophisticated.”

I scoff at his words, shaking my head in amusement. He continued on. “We’re the same, you and I. You hide behind a mask of false politeness and practised smiles. I don’t.”

“What is the point you’re trying to make, James?” you leaned your head back against the couch as the buzz from the alcohol settled into you.

“I must either be foolish or recklessly brave to have married a fucking serpent. You amaze me, Y/N.”

Letting out a genuine laugh at his choice of words , you tip back the rest of the drink, licking your lips as the bitterness leaves its mark behind. A warm hand encircles your hand partially as Bucky takes the glass from you and places it on the table.

Closing your eyes to lean your head back against the couch once more, you let your husbands cologne encompass you.

Let's get one thing clear.

You and Bucky weren't in love. No, this was purely transactional. You got along well , you were able to satisfy each others needs but love was an emotion that didn't come easy to either of you.

So, when his lips trailed soft kisses along your neck, the only emotion involved was lust. Letting out a soft sigh, your eyes still closed, you let yourself enjoy the feeling of his hands running across your body and his lips brushing underneath your jaw.

"You look devastating today." he whispered in your ear, nipping it lightly. Back slightly arching off the couch in pleasure, you turned your body towards his, looping your hands around his neck. "I hadn't noticed." you say breathlessly as his metal arm slips down the strap of your dress and your senses are at his mercy.

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

Stepping out of the steam bath, you put on a bath robe and start doing your skin care. Sleep was ready to take you under. Having sex with Bucky always tended to get you tired...not that you were complaining really.

Like he was summoned by your thoughts, Bucky walked into the bathroom with a somber face.

"What is it?" your hand was halfway to your face, focus honed in on your husband.

Not bothering to respond, he reached around you to grab the spare gun from the overhead cupboard.

"James."

No response yet again.

"JA--"

"Go to sleep." were the three words you got before he slammed the door to the bathroom and left you fuming in the silence of the house.

This. This was why you could never fall in love with him. No matter how good Bucky Barnes could fuck you, make you laugh and protect you, he would never respect you fully.

Soon.

Soon...this world would bow down to you.

Soon.

CHAPTER 2