#I like the contrast between her when she's on a mission and when she's at home

[the20thangel]

The Emperor and His Lady Chapter 2

Summary: As Arabella readies herself to meet Former Empress Lucilla, she encounters Caracalla and Geta. She does not know why Emperor Geta's cruel words affect her more than usual. Visiting Lucilla, she remembers leading tensions growing between Arabella and her Imperator.

Word Count: 1.8K

Masterlist

The following day, Arabella woke up with the warm Roman sun shining on her face. Allowing a small smile to grace her face, she rose, stretching away the sleep from her body. Walking to her bath, she prepared herself for the day, eager to meet Lucilla to break their fast. Putting on a smooth red gown, she placed her golden earrings and two rings on each middle finger. The earring and sapphire ring came from her mother, the only reminder she had left of her, given to her before she left her home.

In contrast, the emerald ring was a gift given to a silly, naive girl who had the illusion she would one day be a kind empress. How ridiculous indeed, Arabella remarked to herself. She was finally completing her look with a sheer but still modest veil on her head. Her veil was a simple one, red with a golden lining. It was just a lovely garment of noble standing to the untrained eye. To those who knew, it was a veil that signified and told everyone she was Geta’s and should not be touched. 

Rising from her chair, Arabella walked out of her chambers and towards her mission. Along the way, she greeted the servants and passing concubines. One concubine, Marcella, smiled at Arabella; she was always kind to her. 

“Good Morrow, sweet one, where you headed this morning, surely not to greet our imperator?” tauntedly asked Marcella, although her taunt was humorous rather than malicious intent. 

“Good Morrow, Marcella, no, not him; I am to visit Lady Lucilla and to break our fast… How did our imperator sleep last night?” Arabella replied. 

Marcella rolled her eyes, knowing that her inquisition of Emperor Geta was not one of care; Arabella asked to see the emperor’s mood before she asked her favor. 

“From what I heard, he was satisfied and happy... Although I cannot be sure myself since I was sent away before the…fun could begin,” explained Marcella, shrugging. 

Marcella knew she was due to be replaced by the emperors. Concubines never lasted with them; the one who did was Arabella. 

The maiden smiled at her companion, thanking her as she continued. Walking towards the exit, if she did not see Geta, she could sneak away before he noticed; it's not like he ever cared to look for her. Of course, today, the odds were slightly against her. The two emperors were walking back from the exit with their flock of concubines for the day. Stifling her grimace and bringing a forced smile, she bowed once the entourage met her. 

“Good Morrow, my imperators…” she softly greeted, rising from her bow but never making eye contact with them. 

“Pray tell me, where do you think you are going, Concubine Arabella?” snorted Caracalla as he hungrily raked his eyes on her. 

Arabella forced herself not to sneer or shudder. Raising her sight but still not making eye contact, she answered, “Wherever my imperator wants me to be, emperor Caracalla.”

Geta watched as his brother's frown started growing on his face. Again, Caracalla was reminded that Arabella only had to answer to him, not them both. Turning to Arabella, a sense of pride and satisfaction blossomed in his chest, and Geta noticed the colors Arabella wore that day. They were his colors, showing off to Rome that she belonged to him and him alone. Before he allowed the sentiments to grow and before Caracalla could do something like strike her, he interrupted. 

“Let the girl go, brother, she will come when no, if I ever need her…” He spoke, cruelly insinuating that he would never call upon her; he would never need her. As Geta began to smile with his brother and entourage’s cruel laughter. His face froze once he noticed her eyes. Although she inclined her head in respect and bowed, her eyes dimmed. They were dimming at the reminder for everyone to hear that she was just his emotional plaything and nothing eyes. Growing frustrated, Geta growled and stalked away, leading the group away from the lady. 

Arabella shakily inhaled to ease her beating heart as she waited for them to leave her. Once she could no longer hear them, she fully rose; the tightness in her heart boomed in her chest, allowing a quick tear to fall from her eye. She quickly forced her walls up and walked out of the palace with a purpose; she was meeting someone who was always glad to be near her. 

Arriving in General Acacius’s villa, Arabella grinned in delight, seeing two parental figures welcome her into their home. Former Empress Lucilla grinned and embraced the woman she considered a daughter. Taking in her appearance for any harm, seeing her perfectly healthy eased her worry about Arabella being so close to the twin emperors. 

The Surrogate family enjoyed each other company, breaking their fast, although both Acacius and Lucilla noticed how reserved Arabella was today. Both fear that she may not have suffered physical harm but emotional from the emperors. Before the two could ask, a soldier asked Marcus Acacius to return to the palace as the emperors called for him. Sighing, he wished his two ladies a pleasant day and followed out. 

“How long do you have with me, sweet one?” asked Lucilla, wanting to know how much time was granted. 

Arabella smiled at the older woman, taking her arm as the two walked towards the gardens. 

“All day, my lady, Emperor has no use for me today…” She spoke softly, trying not to sound upset. 

Lucilla nodded, happy they could spend the day together and enjoy each other’s company. The two walked around the garden and enjoyed Rome’s summer heat and aroma of flowers. As the two spoke of unimportant things, Arabella slowly let her mind wander, letting out the soft hum of a sad lullaby. Lucilla paused to hear the melancholy melody she had taught Arabella four years ago, A Melody of sorrow, which both women understood and shared.

“It is tomorrow, isn’t it…” Asked Lucilla, watching as Arabella's eyes widened in realization.

Nodding, Arabella forced down her tears so she would not cry. 

“Yes, I had not remembered… I now realize why my emotions have been enhanced…” Arabella whispered, her eyes shaking. 

Lucilla sorrowfully smiled, taking the young woman’s hand into her own. She understood her emotions, for she, too, knew the feeling. 

“Has he been cruel to you lately?” Lucilla asked, hoping the answer was no. 

“No more than usual… I was just confused about why his words were affecting me more than usual…but I know, remembering…but I don’t think he does.” She replied. 

“Would he allow you to visit…” Lucilla pressed on. 

Arabella shrugged, “I am afraid to ask; I don’t want to be crushed if he doesn’t allow me.” She confessed that she honestly did not want to risk getting Geta upset. 

Lucilla hummed, not knowing what else to say to provide comfort. As the two walked back from the gardens, their time together ended. With Acacius waiting for Arabella to take her back to the palace. 

Knowing what would come tomorrow, Arabella slowly unraveled her hair, letting her curls fall, and changed her gown to a night dress. Preparing for a long night and more extended day, a quiet knock stopped her from laying on her bed. Sighing, not wishing for night visitors, she slowly went to open the chamber, gasping in shock and seeing Marcella cradling her red and bloody cheek. 

“Gods, Marcella! What happened?” she questioned, bringing her companion in and asking a servant to bring a bowl of water, towels, and a healer. 

“Our Imperator is in one of his rageful moods tonight…” explained Marcella, wincing at the sting from the water. 

Arabella shuddered. Geta’s rages were as nearly bad as Caracalla's. While Geta and a few concubines could control Caracalla, with Geta, it was harder to control. 

“Do we know what brought on his rage?” she pondered, bringing in the Healer and allowing the man to access the damage. 

“I was not in his service today, but as I walked back to the concubines' chambers, I heard his anger through his door, things breaking, and two cries of pain. I saw him strike Otho with Fabia on the floor as I ran in. Both were begging for mercy. I tried to intervene and told them to leave, but it only angered him more, and he threw a vase at me, which is how I got my cut….We were able to leave, but he is still raging. I was told they were sleeping and that he awoke from his slumber terrified and grew angry when he couldn’t find who he was looking for. They don’t know what he dreamed of…” explained Marcella, looking as Arabella paled. 

“I know what made him upset…I will calm him..”

“NO! Sweet girl, please, don’t subject yourself to his pain. He will not want you near him. Please, Arabella, don’t go…” 

Arabella only shook her head; she needed to go. She could not allow anyone else to get injured. As she left, she asked the healer to continue his service, and she would pay him tomorrow—Ignoring Marcella’s outcries, she walked towards Geta’s chambers. 

Pausing at the sounds of things breaking and rageful outcries, she prayed again to the gods for bravery and courage. Inhaling, she walked into the chamber and looked for her Imperator. Geta paused his destruction, hearing someone enter; his face darkened with the sight of Arabella. 

“Get out! I do not wish to see you!” shouted Geta, frustrated as Arabella shook her head. 

Walking closer, she argues, “No, Please let me in my Imperator, please…” 

“NO! I do not want you…Leave!” Geta continued to rage as he threw another vase towards her, a wave of slight regret flowing through him to see her flinch away from the vase. 

Arabella shakily inhaled, knowing his torment, as she raised her arm towards him, with tears in her eyes ready to fall; she allowed her walls to loosen. Even though she promised never again to address him like she was going to, she knew they needed each other right now, even if he denied it. 

“Please, Geta…my Geta, please let me in..” she pleaded, allowing her grief to take over and pleadingly looked at her emperor. 

Shuddering at her softly spoken request, grief ripped through him again at hearing her call him by her Geta. He quickly ran towards her, wrapping his arms around her waist and burying his face in her neck. Sobbing, Geta allowed his body to slump, causing Arabella to struggle against his weight and, almost dragging him, walked to the bed, where she allowed him to press more into her. Hushing him, she ran her finger through his fiery locks, humming the sad lullaby she learned from Lucilla, allowing him to take her comfort. 

As the two continued their tearful embrace, Geta calmed down and asked a question that broke Arabella’s heart again, just like it had done years ago. 

“How old would he have been tomorrow…” he questioned, still hiding his face in her neck. 

Arabella shuddered, allowing a sob to break free, and she tightened her embrace of her emperor. 

“Six, our son would have been six tomorrow, my imperator,” she whispered.

[bthump]

I see a lot of people acting like Guts was so good to Casca when he admitted he just wanted a side chick. Reading the manga it felt that she was unimportant to him, someone to fuck and throw to the side. Even when he was trying to be there for her it felt so...forced. Like he didn't want to be there at all, why do you think that is?

I think it's a combination of Miura deliberately writing it as a flawed attempt at a relationship in terrible circumstances between two fucked up people that was always kind of a mistake, and like, probably some bad writing as well lol.

Like I think it's supposed to at least come across as sweet and earnest and hopeful at the time. A genuine connection between Guts and Casca. Miura has said in an interview that he wrote their relationship to add more drama to the Eclipse, so presumably the audience is meant to root for them to an extent, so that the Eclipse rape can make the reader even more angry lol.

But I don't think it was ever intended to be true love or even necessarily a good idea on the parts of the characters. When Guts invites Casca along he directly says she might get in the way of what he wants to do (fight strong opponents) so his invitation is conditional. This actually foreshadows Guts abandoning her in a cave to go and fight monsters, because she does get in his way.

Casca also cries when Guts fights Wyald and afterwards tells him to die on his own if he's so insistant about it, so even if she hadn't gone insane she probably would've gotten in the way of his dream to throw himself into danger over and over anyway lol.

On the rescue mission they start getting jealous as they get closer to Griffith. They essentially break up right before the Eclipse starts, Casca telling Guts to leave to pursue his dream while she stays with Griffith.

Judeau puts a lot of energy into trying to get them to hook up and leave together, and it's strongly implied that it's because he doesn't feel like he deserves Casca himself and he wants what he thinks is best for her. But when he dies he regrets never telling Casca about his feelings, and Casca even has a little romantic moment with him after he saves her life, which echoes the way she falls for Griffith and then Guts when they save her life.

And it's kind of jarring when she's already hooked up with the protagonist of the story, and certainly suggests that her relationship with Guts is not exactly all-consuming for them. It's realistically unromantic.

Post-Eclipse, Casca is framed as Guts' responsibility that pulls him away from the more visceral temptation to go after Griffith. And this causes him to nearly kill Casca, and then nearly rape her.

When Casca gets her mind back but can't look at him, Guts swings his sword in frustration and restlessness and thinks about Griffith's intense gaze from across a field. After she gets kidnapped, Guts only seems to care that his sword couldn't hit Griffith.

I could go on lol, but basically there are so many deliberate details that point to Guts and Casca's relationship being intended not as super romantic, but rather a more realistic hookup that isn't necessarily a net positive for either of them. And I do think that's what Miura intended, to a greater or lesser degree. I'm sure it was meant to be somewhat genuine and sweet, but I think they're ultimately shown to be incompatible and like, a trainwreck overall.

And yeah, a lot of Guts' shitty treatment of Casca is definitely deliberate, since after the Eclipse he does abandon her, and later attacks and assaults her, and she's currently traumatized by not just Femto and monsters, but also him.

I've actually written a ton of posts about their relationship and its flaws, so I'll link some in case you're interested in more detailed takes:

This is probably one of the best posts I've written about them imo, about how Judeau and Guts' relationships to Casca are compared and contrasted to highlight some of Guts' flaws.

Guts and Casca's hook up being paralleled to Griffith and Charlotte's hook up in terms of both men trying to repress their feelings about the other.

How Judeau's manipulations reflect on Guts and Casca's relationship.

Visual parallels during the Guts + Casca sex scene that suggest they're both rebounding from Griffith.

My take on Guts wanting to earn Casca's affection in ch 33.

Guts and Casca's relationship as a mistake that contributes to the Eclipse happening.

Guts and Casca's hook up failing to have an impact.

A long list of moments that contradict Guts and Casca's relationship as particularly romantic.

Thanks for the ask!

[xmrnothingx]

Samus Aran from Metroid

It's that time of year again, time to draw Samus in a sweater. This time in cool, over-the-shoulder pose. And if it wasn't obvious enough, I love drawing hair, especially Sammy's

[berryz-writes]

Blue

Azriel x reader

Summary: There's a large contrast between the warm and gentle Az you get to enjoy versus the cold and quiet demeanour he reserves for others

Note: FIRST FULL WEEK I HAVE THINGS PLANNED OUT FOR. this isn't entirely my favourite but fuck it we ball <33 enjoy lovelies

@azrielappreciationweek day 1

The kitchen is a warm, flour-dusted haven, filled with the sweet scent of sugar and vanilla as Azriel leans over my shoulder, watching me whisk the batter with an amused glint in his eyes.

“You know,” he murmurs, his breath warm against my neck, “you could just let me do that.” He slips his arms around my waist, pulling me gently against him. “Your hands might get tired.”

I laugh, nudging him with my elbow. “I think I can handle a little whisking.” I turn to face him, catching the soft, rare smile that lights his face, the one that only appears when it’s just us. I lean up, brushing a light kiss to his lips, and feel him pull me closer, his fingers resting at the small of my back.

“Hmm,” he hums, deep and quiet, his lips lingering just a moment longer. “You taste like sugar.”

“You’re distracting me,” I say, trying and failing to keep a straight face.

“Good,” he replies, his voice low. His gaze drops to the cupcakes cooling on the counter, and he raises an eyebrow. “They’re missing something.”

“Exactly,” I sigh, surveying the icing jars and realizing I’ve run out of the last colour I need. I hesitate, glancing at him, knowing he’s had a long week of missions and should probably be resting. But he just tilts his head, a patient smile on his face, like he already knows what I’m about to ask.

“Could you pick up more icing for me?” I ask, brushing a bit of flour off his cheek, unable to hide my smile. “Please?”

He chuckles softly, reaching up to tuck a stray hair behind my ear. “Anything for you.” There’s a gentle warmth in his eyes, a soft devotion that melts me from the inside out.

As he steps back, he squeezes my hand. “Save a few for me?”

“All of them,” I reply with a grin, watching as he heads to the door, wings stretching wide in the golden afternoon light. He gives me one last look before taking off, a dark silhouette against the sky.

Azriel's POV

Flying over the city, my mind lingers on her, the soft warmth of her laugh, the way her eyes light up when I walk into the room. She’s goddess incarnate, far too perfect for me.

The cold air rushes past as I fly, enjoying the time to stretch out my wings to their fullest.

But halfway through my journey, I feel Rhysand’s voice slip into my thoughts, quiet and laced with urgency.

Azriel, we have a guest in the dungeons. I need answers from him if you're available, it's urgent

I think about his words. Maybe if it had been a few months ago Rhys wouldn't have added the part of me being "available" knowing I was waiting at the chance to distract my mind. But ever since y/n walked into my life it was getting easier and easier to spend days doing nothing except enjoy her company. No torture sessions. No constant dagger sharpening. Just time spent with her.

Fine.

Was the simple reply I gave. It would only take a few minutes of my time.

The warmth I felt just minutes ago fades as I turn, heading down toward the underground jail, where shadows and silence reign. My shadows coil tighter around me, sharper, attuned to the work at hand as I descend into the dim halls of the dungeon.

The heavy door creaks open, and I step inside to find the prisoner chained to a chair, his gaze faltering as he meets mine. He tries to summon some defiance, but I can see the fear flicker beneath it, his breaths shallow as my shadows drift closer, surrounding him in darkness. This won’t take long.

I approach him slowly, letting each step echo off the stone walls. Leaning forward, I let my voice drop to a low, controlled murmur, knowing how much more effective a whisper can be. “Let's make this quick. Tell me everything you know"

I didn't have to elaborate on what I meant by everything. He knew what I was here for and I would get it one way or another.

He’s silent at first, eyes darting, and I can see him calculating his options. But there’s no fight in him, not against what he senses I’m capable of. My shadows close in, tightening like a noose around him, each word I speak dripping with cold intent.

After a slow drag of my dagger down the column of his neck the information begins to spill out, fast and frantic. I listen carefully, never blinking, absorbing each detail.

No need for lost blood; I extract every piece with surgical precision, each question laced with the promise of what could happen if he resists. Soon, he’s left shuddering, broken, and silent.

I silently thank the cauldron he didn't make this difficult otherwise I would have to clean up before getting to my wife and the thought of keeping her waiting was not something I enjoyed.

Before I leave, I pause, tilting my head as I look down at him with one last, almost casual question. “Pick a colour.”

His face twists in confusion, fear giving way to bewilderment. “Uh… blue,” he stammers, his voice barely above a whisper.

I give him a curt nod, acknowledging his choice before I turn and leave him to the shadows that linger. As I step into the fresh air aboveground, I make my way to a small shop, selecting a container of bright blue icing, a flash of colour that feels strange against the cold efficiency of what I’ve just done.

When I arrive home, I find her at the counter, surrounded by stacks of sweet heaven. She lights up as she sees me, her eyes crinkling with happiness. "Az! Thank you my love" she says, taking the container and pressing a warm kiss to my cheek.

I'd be lying if i said I didn't melt.

But then she pauses, glancing at me, a flicker of something unreadable in her gaze. “What took so long?”

I shake my head, not wanting her to worry “You don’t need to worry” I murmur, my voice gentle. “Rhys just needed something done”

She watches me closely, as if weighing my words, a knowing look in her eyes. But she doesn’t press. Instead, she smiles softly, letting her fingers brush over mine as she returns to her cupcakes.

I linger there, watching her work, feeling the lightness return to my chest as I settle back into the life we share. She doesn’t push, and I’m grateful.

With her I feel like life is worth living.

note: should have azriel year tbh

[yawnderu]

ANGEL — John Price x Reader x Simon Riley

WC: 6,048 | Part I

Deep down, you knew Simon's way of telling you it's over between you was the moment he gave you his captain's number. Every single message you left Simon was left unanswered, not even opened most of the time, leaving you hoping that perhaps he was simply busy with his missions.

His deployments are oftentimes stressful from what you saw every time he came back home to you, yet you stopped convincing yourself everything was alright after 7 weeks of no contact. Simon Riley is not a coward— not unless it comes to feelings. You're too good for someone like him, someone who could drop dead at any moment, whose only achievements come from killing, forever tainting his hands with blood he can't seem to wash off no matter how many long showers he takes.

He rationalized for months, thought about it— thought about leaving you, too. Yet that lost puppy look of pure trust you gave him every single time he fucked into you, pretty moans leaving your parted lips and soft hands exploring his clothed body, desperately wanting to feel his bare skin against yours, something he never had the heart to give you. Too tainted, too scarred, too ugly. So like a broken man wanting to keep you safe, he did the best with what he had, leaving his captain's number on your night table the moment he was done cumming.

Over 2 months later, Simon still remembers the feeling of your warm skin beneath his lips, the look of pure vulnerability and love plastered on your face, so angelic and pretty, a sheer contrast to the nervousness on his, despite how natural it was to treat you with a tenderness he's never had with anyone in his entire life.

“He fell from a helicopter?” Crinkled eyes meet yours from across the table, taking a sip of his drink before letting out a dry chuckle, nodding his head.

“Aye, hangin' from a bloody rope. Had me scared, thinkin' I lost my Sergeant.” John said with a grin, his gaze softening at the way you were listening so intently, your full attention on him no matter how boring he thought his stories were.

“Is he scared of getting into helicopters again?” You lean a bit closer to him, your chin resting on your hand as you look up at him. From this angle, you're able to admire John's features from up-close. Every single grey hair adorning his beard, his crow's feet, the tiny beauty mark on his nose, the tiny spots on his face, likely gotten from spending a long time under the sun as a soldier from a young age.

“Of course. Took him a while to trust our pilots again, now he always double checks his gear's on right.” Price always pays attention to detail, the way your pupils dilate the longer you stare at him don't go unnoticed in the slightest. He asks a passing waitress for a check, not even giving you a second to offer to pay for your half before his card is already in her hands, going away to charge him for the dinner and drinks.

“And how's… what was his name again? Soap?” He smirks at the mild confusion when using Johnny's callsign, likely assuming it's simply a sex innuendo.

“Soap, yeah. He's a good kid, kind o' like the son I never had.” That gets your attention, looking away for a second to hold back a small smirk before looking back up at him, eyebrows raised.

“You don't have children?” That earns a small chuckle out of him, shaking his head at the question. He gave the waitress a small smile as she came back with his card, pocketing it and getting up from his chair, offering his arm up to you. There's no hesitation as you hook your arm with his, walking to his car.

“Never had girlfriends after joining the SAS. Became a captain at a young age, too.” He looks down at you as you walk, admiring your pretty features, secretly wondering how Simon could have fucked up that badly— how he let such a lovely and sweet girl go. He opens the car door for you, even going as far as to help you put on your seatbelt, letting you have a whiff at his woody cologne, the smell of smoke from cigars mixing in.

“What about you? Any children?” He asks teasingly, shooting you a playful grin before starting the car, blue eyes fully focused on the road. Unlike Simon, Price knows how to drive well, making you feel safe while on the road.

“Hell no. I've been… thinking about it, but men my age were never interested in that.” Even if he was much older, Simon was never even an option. Too emotionally unavailable, too fucked up to even consider having children.

“Part of the reason I like older men.” Your voice is smooth and even, a sheer contrast to the slight knot of nervousness tightening in your stomach, only coming undone when you hear his amused laugh.

Price's calloused palm rests on the gear shift before daring to move it over to your thigh, running up and done slowly, trying to heat up your cold skin rather than doing it to be a pervert, yet your body still reacts to his touch, warmth pooling on your lower stomach.

“Really, sweetheart?” Price isn't stupid in the slightest, yet unlike Simon, his actions aren't malicious. He simply wants to see you squirm, finding pure amusement in the laugh you both share and the playful slap you give to his arm.

“Stop using your charm on me.” You scold jokingly, unable to hide the big grin taking over your pretty face.

“I'm charming now, eh?” His grip tightens on your inner thigh, applying just enough pressure to tease you.

“According to Simon, you always have.” That makes one of his thick eyebrows raise questioningly, his lips pulling into an amused smile.

“I've known him for a long time, y'know? Back when we I was an LT.” He can't help but allow his mind to go back into the past as he drives, images of the eager Simon Riley, a broken man who simply wanted to change the world, who always helped without even asking for much in return.

“Has be always been… like that?” You ask after a few seconds of silence, allowing yourself to be the cat curiosity killed.

“No.” The Simon Riley he met was not similar to Ghost in the slightest.

“He was 'round 19 when I met him. Better than any recruits I've seen.” Yet still teased by his mates for being an apprentice butcher in the past, for being so rigid and basing his entire life on discipline, unlike the many other young soldiers who have since passed.

“I bet. He has that certain look on him, you know? The eyes. I wouldn't want to mess with him.” Price lets out a dry chuckle, nodding his head in agreement. Part of him is glad that he's been working with Simon because it seems that to know more about you, he needs to know about Simon as well.

“We're here, doll.” He parks the car, getting out of his seat and opening the door for you, his calloused hand resting on your lower back, guiding you to your house. You can feel the warmth from his hand spreading all over your body, soothing rubs up and down your back as you walk.

“Would you like a cuppa?” Mirth dances in his eyes at the audacity, already knowing your intentions, and yet.

“Of course.” Price follows after you, part of him growing excited by whatever you have in mind. Your slightly shaky hands fiddle with the keys before you're able to open the door, secretly thankful that you cleaned up your mess earlier in the day.

“What tea would you like?” You ask, turning around just in time to see Price finishing the once-over he was giving you.

“This isn't about tea, is it, darlin'?” He asks with a knowing smile, his jacket slipping out of his shoulders now that you're both inside the house. Blown pupils stare back at him, taking your time to admire the strong body hugged by his tight black shirt. You can see his bulging muscles, broad shoulders fully relaxed as he steps forward, towering over you. A monument of sorts when you're small.

“If I'm lucky, I hope not.” Your breathy voice was all Price needed as reassurance. His lips crash against yours, warm hands gripping your waist tight enough for you to feel the warmth spreading all over your lower body. The smell and taste of cigar smoke overwhelms your senses, too enthralled by the feeling of his tongue wrapping around yours, a small moan leaving your lips the moment his hand trails down to your ass, groping you with care, as if you're made of glass.

“How far do you wanna go?” His forehead leans against yours as his blown pupils stare back at you, his chest rising up and down with each breath.

“As far as you want to.” A small yelp leaves your lips when he lifts you in his arms, your legs instantly wrapping around his strong, muscular waist.

“Bedroom's there.” You don't even need to point— Price can see the open door, so enticing and tempting, allowing your small giggle to consume his whole soul like a siren's song. With carefulness that contrasts the brutality he uses as a soldier, Price sets you down in bed, strong arms on each side of your head, caging you in.

Your breaths mingle together as he leans down to kiss you again, warm tongues wrapping around the other, using his knee to spread your legs enough for his burly body to fit, subtly grinding against your clothed cunt.

“Been wantin' to do this for a long while.” Ever since Simon showed him your profile picture on WhatsApp, introducing you as a friend in need. He wouldn't dare confess it to anyone, not with the way his calloused hand rubbed his cock until it almost hurt, using your pretty face as a relief from the stress of war.

“Pretty fuckin' girl.” He praised, dragging a giggle out of you the moment his beard started tickling your neck, gentle kisses planted all over your warm, sensitive skin, his tongue darting past his lips to give your neck a tantalizing lick.

He can feel your hands exploring his strong body, his muscles bulging and tensing up beneath your soft palms. He only breaks apart the moment your hands go to the hem of his shirt, helping you pull it off of his body, the piece of clothing discarded on the floor.

“God…” Your whisper holds nothing but pure admiration, catching hints of his strong, muscular body, dark hair covering most of it. Your hand drifts up to his torso, caressing his surprisingly soft skin, not minding the scars you can feel beneath your hand. Price has been shot, stabbed, tortured, left for dead— his body acting as a keepsake of every mission gone wrong.

His gaze is soft as he stares down at you, holding a tenderness unlike a man like him, so naturally gentle and willing to show it without the walls guarding his heart— unlike Simon. His calloused hand rubs your thigh before drifting up to the hem of your blouse, carefully pushing it up and removing it with your help.

“Pretty girl.” His back bends slightly as his gentle lips now go to your bare stomach, planting a rapid-fire of kisses all over the soft skin, descending with each passing second, lifting your skin up to reveal your clothed cunt.

“I'll take care of you.” And he means every single word. Captain Price is a bad man, a bad man with a high kill-count and multiple war crimes to his name, yet John Price is a different story— caring and loving, so willing to fix something he didn't even break.

His eyes close the moment his lips connect to your mound, tongue darting out to get a taste at all he's been craving the moment he saw you. He lets out a small groan as the taste of your slickness overwhelms his senses, his hands roaming up and down your waist, daring to sneak past your bra, finally getting a good feel at your tits.

John is a starved man. A starved man whose only salvation is you, looking so pretty and sweet, panties wet with a mix of his saliva and your own slick. He's careful and gentle, pulling down your panties with both hands and dropping them on the floor, his breath catching in his throat when his gaze drifts down to your pussy, glistening under the light of your bedroom.

He doesn't waste any time, lowering himself again between your legs, licking a trail from your tight hole, to your swollen clit. Your legs try to close out of instinct, a whiny moan making its way out of your lips at the sensation of his beard against your cunt.

“Open your legs, love.” He whispered, running his thumb over your hard bud.

“Let daddy taste you.” He kisses your inner thigh before diving back in, licking and sucking on your clit, trying his best to make you feel good. Your moans are too pretty, your cunt too sweet, and Price can feel himself starting to lose control. His cock throbbed, his own desire growing stronger by the second, focusing solely on your pleasure.

“That's my good girl.” He whispered against your skin, sliding two thick fingers inside you. You're soaking wet yet still so tight, only making his desire grow, desperately needing to be inside you. Your whiny moans fuel him, his warm tongue flickering against your hardened clit faster and faster, mixing in with his sucking, his thick fingers curling inside your needy cunt.

Your hands run through his short hair, pulling at it softly to release some of the pleasure building in, the familiar knot in your stomach tightening up with each lick. Your chest rises up and down with each long, labored breath, muscles tensing up as the knot in your stomach finally comes undone, pushing his face closer to your cunt as his fingers move in and out, dragging out your orgasm.

He pulls his fingers out of you slowly, his blue eyes connecting with yours as he licks his fingers clean from your cum, your heart thudding loudly inside your chest.

“Fuck me.” That breathy whisper was all he needed, getting up only to slip out of his pants and boxers, his dick standing proudly. Despite being uncircumcised, you can see his dark pink tip, leaking precum like a broken faucet. Now that he's standing, he takes his time to admire your bare body, his blue eyes going to your tits when you take off your bra.

“Tell me if you want me to stop, yeah?” The option is always there, and he wants you to know. His knees sink into the mattress as he supports his body on top of yours with one hand, lining his hard cock with your entrance, pausing for a moment.

“Let me love you.” He whispered hoarsely, slipping into you gently despite his primal instincts telling him otherwise. He lets out a loud groan the moment your tight walls grip his throbbing cock, his face finding shelter on the crook of your neck. A small hiss makes its way out of your lips as your legs wrap on his hips, pushing him closer and deeper, allowing him to finally bottom out.

“Bloody hell— you're so tight.” He moans out, his thrusts growing faster as you get used to his thickness. He looks down at you, his eyes filled with desire and adoration, longing dancing within. John's lips part as he feels your long nails dragging down his back, driving him crazy with pure need.

“I'm close.” He whispers out, his hips ramming against you with increasing urgency, reaching out to caress one of your soft tits. He plants open-mouthed kisses all over your neck and chest, his breath warm against your sweaty skin.

“Cum inside.” John's eyes widen at your words, his dominant nature taking over as his hands go down to grip your hips firmly in place, the overwhelming desire and pleasure clouding his judgement, drowning out any concerns. His thrusts are deep and powerful, making you his with an unyielding force.

As he loses himself in the heat of the moment, John's muscles tense up, the familiar feeling of pure heat pooling up within him, slamming himself as deep inside you as he can before his cock starts throbbing, shooting ropes of cum with each pulse. His breath is heavy as he slowly pulls out of you, his gaze fixated on the mess of mixed fluids that coats your pretty cunt.

“My pretty girl.” He whispers out, burly arms wrapping around your body, pulling you closer to his hairy chest, allowing you to hear his fast-beating heart. His lips are gentle against your forehead, wanting nothing more than to relax with you after the intense love-making. His actions are nothing short of genuinely caring and loving, wanting to give you good aftercare, all thoughts of Simon finally out of your head.

“Want me to run you a bath?” Price asks in a whisper, planting one last kiss on your forehead before looking down, just to see your chest moving up and down slowly, eyes closed and lips slightly parted, pulling you closer to his warm, naked body so you can sleep better, deciding to get some well-deserved rest as well.

The smell of eggs and tea is what you woke up to in the morning, rubbing your eyes with the back of your hand. The feeling of large fabric keeping your body warm makes you look down, just realizing that John put his large shirt on your body when you were sleeping, a small smile pulling at the corners of your lips as you get up from bed, making your way to the kitchen.

“Good mornin'.” John turns around for a second, blue eyes lighting up when he's greeted by a big smile and his shirt dwarfing your body, giving you a small wink before he's back to finishing your breakfast. You take your time to admire him, so naturally handsome and masculine, his hairy, strong body only having his boxers on.

“Thanks, daddy.” You quip teasingly as he hands you the plate, a small squeal leaving your lips when he starts to chase you around the house, shared laughs ringing around.

Dating John is a sheer contrast to any expectations you had when you first got into the relationship. Despite the fact that he's often away during missions, he has scheduled delivers for flowers and your favorite foods, calling with you the moment he's available.

“What are you doin'?” Price asks with a small smirk, his gaze softening the moment his eyes meet yours, your cheek resting on his strong thigh while he was trying to complete a report. His hand goes to your head out of pure muscle memory, giving your scalp a soft massage.

“I like you from this angle.” He lets out a small chuckle, moving his leg to make your position more comfortable as you nuzzle his leg, your chin now resting on it as you adjust your knees on the floor.

“You like me in every angle.” A grin spreads on his face, his calloused hand running down the length of your hair before resting on your back, massaging the muscles tenderly.

“True, but specially from this one.” The cheeky smile you throw his way does nothing other than to distract him further from his report of the latest mission, cupping your cheek to examine your pretty features better under the light of the room, mirth dancing in his blue eyes.

“You're clingier than my shadow.” He teases, leaning forward until his lips meet yours in an affectionate kiss, not bothered by your clinginess in the slightest. He breaks away just to give your forehead a tender kiss, staring down at you lovingly. The look of pure trust and love your eyes hold drags him back to one of the many late night conversations with Simon back at base.

“Y'like her?” Simon finally dares to ask, ignoring the growing pain on his lower stomach at the idea of you dating John, even if it was Simon's idea.

“Do you?” Price quips, already knowing the reply. There's been more than one occasion where he saw Simon stare at your WhatsApp profile picture, even if your number was deleted— he still keeps your messages, using it as an odd way of finding comfort despite the growing self-loathing from hurting you.

“You know I don't do that.” There's hints of regret spilling along Simon's deep voice, his bare fingers drumming on the cup of tea on his hand.

“Do what?” He already knows the answer, and yet.

“Love. 'M gonna get the poor girl killed.” Memories of Christmas haunt him even years later, his mind momentarily taken back to coming home just to find his entire family dead. All that blood, yet all his shattered mind was able to do was laugh even as he held a gun to his mouth.

“She'll be fine, Simon. The girl knows how to handle herself. Hell, I'm getting her a better security system soon, too.” Despite being in a committed relationship with you, John knows Simon well enough to know he still likes you, in his own way. He's seen Simon break down, seen the worst and the best of him, and eventually got to see the way he built himself back up, coming back to the SAS as Ghost.

“Wha'? You want me to date her, too?” Even if he asked it as a joke, Price's silence and the subtle shrug of his shoulders speaks louder than words.

“I know what you've been through, son. Think about it, you mean a lot to the bird.” John empties the rest of his tea down the sink, giving Simon one last pat on the shoulder before walking out of the room, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

“I'll go get it.” John is brought back to reality with the soft knocks on the entrance door, tilting his head up as you plant a kiss on his cheek. You make your way up to the door, your heart beating inside your chest when you look through the peephole, a familiar pair of dead brown eyes staring back. There's slight hesitation as your hand goes to the doorknob, resting there for a few seconds before you decide to open the door.

“Simon?” Despite the dark hoodie over his head, you can tell he hasn't been doing well, his skin looking more pale than usual, dark eyebags making him resemble more a raccoon than a man.

“'M sorry.” He mutters, hands deep inside the pockets of his jacket, lowering his gaze with nothing but pure shame.

“That's it?” Your guarded tone makes a part of him feel proud that you're not a doormat anymore.

“No. I'm sorry for… ignoring you, and for being a cunt.” His gaze finally meets yours. You can see the shame, the regret, and the pain.

“I was scared.” I wish I could tell you I survive out there because I don't want to leave you yet. Your lips part, though you decide to be quiet for now.

“I don't know if I'll ever be able to tell you why this shite happened.” Despite the way his hands are fidgeting inside his pockets, he's trying his best to be as honest as possible while avoiding dumping his trauma on you.

“That's bollocks, mate.” Price's voice almost scares the soul out of you, turning around to shoot him an exasperated look. For a man his size, he moves with surprising quietness. You can feel his burly arms wrap around your lower body, bringing you closer to him.

“Give 'er a proper apology.” Despite the hesitation Simon feels, the space Price left open for him is all he needs. You can feel another pair of arms wrapping around your body, the familiar scent of cheap fags and gun powder hitting your nose, bringing you back to all those nights you shared.

It's an awkward hug, a mess of limbs and warmth that you finally decide to take in, your arms wrapping around Simon's narrow waist, bringing his body closer to you despite the way his muscles tense up at the sudden contact. You can feel him relax with your touch, his cheek resting against the top of your head.

“'M sorry.” He repeats in a whisper, his cold face finding shelter on the warm crook of your neck, the urge to kiss you again growing stronger by the second, though he remains respectful. You can feel John's cock starting to harden against your ass, making you look up and give him a confused look. His hand goes up to grip your jaw softly, his lips crashing against yours as he starts to subtly grind against you, only making the confusion grow.

Simon's hold on your body tightens, the familiar sensation of his lips against your neck drags a small moan out of you, muffled in John's mouth. His tongue wraps around yours, your breathing growing more labored by the second, soft hands curling on Simon's muscular back, barely able to hear the door closing until you decide to break away from the kisses.

“What's going on?” The nervous laugh that leaves your lips is only met by a reassuring look coming from Price, his calloused hand running up and down your side.

“Part o' the apology you deserve, love.” You don't even have time to answer— not when Simon's rough lips meet yours, the kiss nothing but a pure display of love and affection. Even a ghost can be a lovely thing when you want it to be.

You can feel John's calloused hands drift down to the pajama shorts you're wearing, sneaking a few squeezes on your ass before his hand sneaks past your panties, using two of his fingers to feel your wet cunt, spreading your slick all over. His lips are now busy on your pretty neck, licking and sucking freely, not caring about any love bites he leaves— he knows you don't mind either.

You can hear his hard breathing against your tender skin, your tongue dancing with Simon's, hands desperately sneaking under his shirt, groping his hard, defined muscles. You can feel the bulging scar on his ribs, caressing it with extra care just to show him every single part of his heavily scarred body is loved.

“I missed you.” Simon breaks away from the kiss only to whisper that in your ear, his rough hand already going up to your tit, squeezing the soft fat while all you can do is moan, the combined sensations of the strong men touching you does nothing but drive you closer to the edge, your wet walls tightening around John's fingers, forcing you to squeeze Simon's bicep to release some of the tension.

“Fuck, daddy—” Simon's breath hitches at your words despite knowing you're talking to John, his own cock throbbing at the slight whine in your tone. His hands go to your waist, holding you up as your eyes finally shut, your forehead resting on Simon's chest as John's fingers move faster and deeper inside you, lazily rubbing your clit with his thumb. Your knees start to buck, more whiny and louder moans leaving your lips as you cum all over his fingers, nails digging into Simon's arm.

“That's a good girl.” Price praises in a breathy whisper, delicately pulling his fingers out of your pulsating cunt, taking a second to admire the way his fingers glisten with your slick.

“Taste her.” Simon is a man with no shame. No shame at all, making eye contact with you as he starts to suck his captain's fingers, putting them in his mouth just to taste more of your sweet slick. The hungry wolf is reduced to a starving dog, a small groan leaving his lips the moment your taste is all over his tongue.

He pulls John's fingers out of his mouth once he finishes licking them clean, your mouth opening ajar when Simon's lips crash against his, your heart beating loudly inside your chest as you watch them kiss. You can see their tongues dancing together, sharing your sweet taste in a passionate kiss, Simon's grip tightening around your waist.

They break away after a few seconds, looking up just to be met by Simon's cheeky smirk. He pushes you further into the house, fingers intertwining with yours as he walks into the bedroom like he owns the place, yet in reality, it's simply something he's done way more times than he can count.

“Pretty fuckin' girl.” His hold is all but gentle as he lays down in bed, pulling you on his lap, allowing you to feel the way his hard cock bulges on his jeans, calloused hands going to your ass to make you grind against him, whiny moans leaving your lips at the friction against your sensitive cunt.

You can hear a zipper going down behind you, only making the excitement grow at the idea of seeing your boyfriend's bare body again— no matter how many times you've seen it already. Price's knees sink on the mattress, burly arms wrapping around your waist, grabbing one of your hands just to guide it to his hard cock. Your hands wrap around it, starting to rub him up and down slowly until his fingers join yours, speeding up the movement.

“Tell me you wanna fuck him.” His voice is a whispered command, a dominance you've never heard before— and one Simon has heard too many times during missions.

“I wanna fuck Simon.” You confess, your back pressing against John's strong, hairy chest as you jack him off, your soft palm rubbing against his sensitive tip, dragging a small grunt out of him as you smear his precum all over his throbbing cock. His free hand goes to your back, pushing you down against Simon as you let go of his cock with a small whine of protest.

Simon is desperate and needy— that much you can tell by the way he removes his clothes with an eagerness you've never seen before. You take your time to admire his strong body, pale skin tattered by scars, yet looking so alluring. You adjust your position as he tries to remove his pants, exchanging a small laugh at the awkward position you're in.

He looks more relaxed and honest than you've ever seen, his eyes crinkling as you're getting your shorts and panties pulled down by Price, finally resting your naked body on top of his. It's a new change of pace for both of you— Simon doesn't like to give up control, doesn't enjoy being dominated, it's too personal and vulnerable, yet for you? He's willing to try anything.

“Show him how you much you missed him.” John's soft command makes you nod your head, looking over your shoulder just to feel his lips against your back, his hand coming up to your jaw to turn your face back to Simon. Simon's calloused hand goes down to his throbbing, veiny cock, waiting until you lift your hips up to line himself up to your cunt, a low groan leaving his lips as your tight walls wrap around him, your back arching once he bottoms out.

“Fuck, Simon…” Your face rests against the crook of his neck, planting kisses all over his warm skin as he starts to fuck into you, the wet sounds of your sopping cunt and needy moans filling the room.

Simon's eyes are closed, fully taking in the sensation of finally having your naked body on his after so many months apart. His hands explore your body with familiarity, bringing one of your hands up to his face to make you cup his cheek, gentle kisses planted over and over on your thumb.

You're too far gone to notice John coming up from behind you, keeping you against Simon's body while his free hand rubs the lube all over his veiny cock, a small smirk pulling on the corners of his lips at how much you're both enjoying each other. You're dragged back to reality when you feel his tip pressing against your tight cunt, already full with Simon's cock.

“It's not going to—” Price pacifies you with another kiss on your bare, sweaty back, slowly pushing in.

“I'll make it fit.” He reassures, a deep moan leaving his lips once he manages to slip his thick tip inside you, giving you time to adjust to the sensation before slowly pushing the rest of his cock inside you, pausing once he bottoms out to give you a well-deserved break.

“Fuckin' hell.” Simon groans out, his face scrunching up at how much tighter your cunt feels now that you have two cocks inside you. His short nails lightly dig into your skin, already feeling so close to the edge despite the fact you're just getting started.

You let out a short exhale once they both start moving, cocks rubbing together inside your tight walls, the sensation of being stretched this much starting to feel better by the second, every single nerve inside your cunt being stimulated. You pull Simon for another kiss, feeling his hand coming up to the back of your head just to pull you closer, wanting to feel more of your tiny tongue licking his.

You're a mess of limbs— sweaty bodies colliding, feeling their muscles tightening up around your soft, smaller body. Simon's moans are muffled by your lips, not letting you pull away from the kiss in slight embarrassment at letting you hear the neediness seeping out of his tone.

Their hips move in a relentless rhythm, each thrust sending waves of pleasure coursing through your veins, forcing your back to arch, only giving them a better angle to fuck into you. Price's hands go up to your soft tits, squeezing and groping as he moves faster and deeper inside you, his breath hot against your ear.

“I'm… I'm gonna cum.” You manage to whisper between moans, muffled once again by Simon's rough lips. The overwhelming sensations build within you, the familiar sensation of your muscles tensing up and fingers tingling starts to grow stronger by the second, the intensity of your connection with both men driving you over the edge.

The sensation of one of their cocks hitting your cervix over and over makes you whine softly, muscles tensing up as they sandwich your bodies between them, finally letting go, your orgasm washing over you as your walls wrap tighter around their cocks, your fingers digging into Simon's skin. It doesn't take long for them to follow after you, fucking into you as deep as they can as they release a thick load into you, cocks pulsating with each rope they shoot.

They remain buried inside you for a moment, chests heaving as they try to catch their breaths. Price is the first one to pull out, watching as their combined cum seeps out of your spent pussy before he lays down next to Simon, your warm body being pulled to the side as Simon lays on his side, his cock still buried inside you even while he's softening.

“I love you.” He finally confesses, tired eyes meeting yours for a second before shutting again as Price embraces you from behind. Your leg is resting over Simon's body, making the position a lot more comfortable as you bring his face closer to your chest.

“I love you too. Both of you.” You whisper, tiredness slowly taking over your body, not even realizing that Simon is already asleep, his face buried on your soft tits. Price lets out a small chuckle, planting gentle kisses all over your warm back, his hands lightly gripping your stomach as a way to let you know he loves you, too.

[gravegoer]

OMG I love your last sevika work💖😍

Can we maybe have more oblivious reader ?🥹👉👈

Maybe reader being a total housewife for sevika and loving her VERY much 💖 (my girl deserve a rest )

Taking care of her ✧₊⁺

thank you for your support ! i totally agree with you, my girl needs a BREAK so heres to giving some loving to sevika when she needs it and implementing a little more oblivious reader :) + a little blurb at the end for fun <3 !!

masterlist here

You let Sevika over often. She found a kind of comfort at your home, more so than at hers. Her place was kind of.. plain. I mean, it was funded by Silco, and she's barely home to begin with, always out on missions or at the bar.

But after you offered her your key, saying, "You can come over anytime you want, I don't mind." She definitely took up that invitation. But not without teasing you.

"Want me to come whisk you away in the night, huh? I bet you'd like that."

She basically moved in with you, coming home after a particularly hard mission late at night, sliding into bed with you. You would awake at the intrusion and immediately tell her to get up so you could survey her injuries.

Sometimes you'd make her warm soup if you were alert enough, she wrapped her thick arms around you, her warm hand contrasting with the cold metallic of the prosthetic. Breathing deeply into your ear as you stirred the pot.

You just being her cute little wife made her melt.

On the nights you didn't wake, she would let you sleep in, watching the way your eyelids flutter in your slumber. Letting out a deep chuckle at your small snores. Then she would walk over to the window and light a cigarillo before you awoke.

Instead of going to the bar when she was stressed she would lay in your lap on the couch while you massaged her head, making all her worries shrink away. She groans when it feels especially good, and furrows her eyebrows when you giggle at her noises.

Speaking of massages, she loves when you rub her tense shoulders and whisper sweet things to her. Although she would never admit to it, she smiles at your adamant complements when her face isn't in view.

While your fingers work into her broad shoulders she would tell you stories about the people she has met and the places she's been. The places she wants to take you.

She tilted her head back to rest it on your chest, looking up at you with hooded eyelids as a smile adorns your face. Planting a soft kiss to her forehead you continued your motions.

She screams internally when she sees you walk around the house with a cute apron on. "Kiss the cook? Don't mind if I do," She purred, tilting your chin to plant a hot kiss on your lips.

When you asked her if she liked your cooking she was always painfully honest. Especially when it was good. She lets out a huge dramatic sigh at a good bite of a hot meal. And an even more dramatic grimace at a pinch too much salt.

When she stayed the night she would let you put her hair up in the morning, and on occasion help her get dressed. She calls you over to help her with the buttons on her vest, knowing full well she can do it herself. (She just wants to watch your cute concentrated face) Sevika indulges in the brush of your fingers against her chest, soft and gentle.

Her scent lingered when she left for the day, the dull smell of leather and something warm. She tries not to light up a cigarillo in your house often but the smell does inhabit the couch where she often lit one up while you sat all pretty in her lap.

She loved the way you felt atop her thick thighs, your legs dangling in between hers. She rubbed your thigh with her mechanical hand affectionately while she took a drag. These are the moments you savored.

One morning you woke up significantly earlier then Sevika, the dim moonlight peering through your blinds. Glancing at the clock you read " 5 a.m. " You tried to roll over, back into Sevika's chest as an attempt to lull yourself back to sleep. Her warmth radiates on your face and you try to snuggle impossibly closer so that it would spread throughout your body.

After a few minutes of tossing and turning you ultimately decided to get up. You silently cursed your forgetfulness, as the night before you stupidly forgot to draw your curtains. Slowly slipping out of bed you padded your way to the bathroom and flicked on the lights. The soft buzz of the bulb welcomed you as you fixed your messy bedhead in the mirror.

Turning on the faucet, warm water ran over your hands, after splashing it on your face you peered over at the tub. An idea popped into your head. Sevika's had a rough week and she could definitely use some relaxing before the weekend. You smirked at your bright idea. Waking up to a beautiful girl and a warm bath? What's better than that? (Nothing)

Cranking the handle of hot water you tested it, humming to yourself at the temperature. It filled the bath slowly and you watched while you sat on the edge of the tub. Thinking about how Sevika will enjoy your surprise, imagining her cute reaction, and perhaps her lips on yours. At your thoughts you almost drifted to sleep when you were pulled out of your daze by the hot steam hitting your face.

Standing up, you pulled out some soothing bath salts from under your sink, pouring a little into the bath. Swirling the water around with your hands you pumped some soap into the water, coating the surface of the water with bubbles.

When you were satisfied you tip toed back into your room, drying your hands off on your clothes. You giggled at Sevika's large frame on your bed, her snores muffled by the plush pillow on her face. You almost couldnt bring yourself to wake her up.

But you touched her gently on the arm, "Sevi, wake up," You whispered.

When she didn't respond you shook her carefully. She groaned at the intrusion and turned to face you. "What..? it's too early for this," Her husky voice grumbled. She wasn't pleased to see you standing at the edge of the bed instead of laying beside her.

"I have a surprise for you," You whispered sweetly.

This made her squeeze her eyes shut for another second and sigh before running her hands over her face, "Okay, surprise me sweetheart."

You pulled her out of her spot, the blankets pooling on the floor around her feet. Helping her stand up you lead her to the dimly lit bathroom. Her hand was warm in yours, you noted the her light squeeze when she saw what was beyond the bathroom door.

Looking up at her face you saw a small smile grace her features, highlighted by the glow of the light, "All for me?"

You smirked in pride, "Yep! I knew you'd need it. Like it, huh?"

"Always know what I need," She purred while stroking your cheek with a thick finger.

Walking over to the tub, she sat on the edge. Her two fingers beckoned you to come closer, spreading her legs so you could stand between them.

"Join me?"

thank you for the ask ! this was fun to write and i hope for more asks in the future :) my inbox is always open !! and as always reblogs and kudos are always appreciated let me know if you liked this <𝟑 .ᐟ

[acciotaitlynn]

Xavier following you around begging for forgiveness, interfering with your dates, etc after you break up with him because he chose mc to save instead of you but he regrets it now plzzzzzz? 🥺

Hiii! ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ I hope it's okay that this is spicy! Xavikitty's got me really worked up 😩💦 This healed something in me fr. Thank you for requesting!

→ xavier༝you ꒰sylus is your bestie꒱

→ 18+, unprotected sex, vsex, marking/claiming, fingering, masturbation, oral;꒰fem!receiving꒱ angst, overstim, angel/baby/good girl used, ⋆˙⟡ reader is not mc from lads

→ wc: 9k

→ pt.2

It plays on an endless loop in Xavier’s head—he remembers pushing you into harm's way to protect her. He shuts his eyes, steeling himself as the memory flares up like a haunting specter, nausea twisting at its force.

How can he possibly make you understand? After countless lifetimes dedicated to protecting Mai, it’s become instinctual, as natural as breathing. He’s devoted himself to placing her life above all else, including his own, to the point where it requires no conscious thought. His body moves according to her needs, like weary clay molded to her unyielding will.

Typically, keeping her safe fills him with immense pride and joy. She’s the center of his existence—the one thing he’s never once regretted dedicating himself to.

He’s unsure when that began to change. Perhaps it was the first moment he laid eyes on you. He remembers it vividly… 

You stood beside Mai, the woman he’s always considered the most beautiful soul in the world, yet all he could see was you. A soft, surprised inhale escaped him as he caught your radiant gaze. Then his eyes wandered over your form, drawn to the uniform that hugged your curves in all the right places—curves that stirred a long-buried ache in him, a longing he’d almost forgotten existed.

Captain Jenna assigned you to the Unicorns team, instructing them to show you the ropes during your first few months. Much to Mai's dismay, Xavier took a shine to you. You both hit it off instantly, diving into animated discussions about books, video games, and anime that last for hours. 

Xavier changes around you. It's a stark contrast from his usual aloof demeanor; he becomes like an overeager puppy, radiating a cheerful, youthful energy that draws you in. You make him feel alive, his soul buzzing with excitement whenever you're around.

Then there's Mai. The lingering touches and flirtations between her and Xavier are familiar yet futile. He feels something for her—his body still heats up when she’s near, and the butterflies flutter in his stomach whenever she hugs him. But you? You make his heart race to the point where he can't think straight. You ignite a spark in him that he’s hesitant to acknowledge, filling him with light and hope. 

With Mai, it’s different. While she makes him happy, the constant chase for something unachievable cloaks their moments in a bittersweet melancholy, even during the brightest times. A nagging question lingers in his mind—is he starting to care for you so deeply that it’s overshadowing his feelings for her? Is that even possible?

Mai has consumed his thoughts and desires for as long as he can remember. He struggles to disentangle himself from her, even against his will. But ever since that first mission together, you’ve carved a place in his psyche that’s too significant to ignore. 

Unbeknownst to him, his changes around you are glaringly obvious. And you can't help but smirk at how annoyed it makes Mai. She does her best to keep you away from him, often splitting up during missions to maintain her hold. She sits closer to Xavier, throwing you daggers with her glares, her flirtations with him seemingly growing bolder by the day. 

Currently, her arm is draped over his shoulders as she whispers into his ear. As your eyes meet Xavier’s, warmth blooms in his gaze, only to falter when you quickly look away.

It’s only been three days since he pushed you in front of that wanderer without a second thought, pulling Mai away as though her safety was paramount. Mai executed her plan with precision, positioning herself between you and the threat when Xavier was distracted to force a choice upon him. It was meant to convey that he ultimately belongs to her.

You've asked him to avoid speaking to you unless it’s work-related, and even then, you prefer silence. His gentle voice feels like a sharp knife cutting deep into your resolve. Just one more month, and you can escape this toxic duo for good.

Watching Mai cling to him is torture—some sort of cruel cosmic punishment for an unknown transgression. Every place her hands linger is a spot you crave for yourself. Your desire for Xavier has burned since the moment you laid eyes on him. It’s evident he shares that longing, how his gaze roams over you when he thinks you’re not looking, and how he blushes fiercely at the simplest of touches.

You just don’t understand it. You know their heartbreaking history; Sylus filled you in. Giving up on something you've worked so hard for is a monumental challenge. Still, they don’t joke and laugh like you do. His eyes don’t light up for her the way they do for you; that deep cerulean gaze doesn’t trace her form with the same heat anymore. He no longer seeks her out or reciprocates her touches. In fact, he’d likely forget her entirely if she weren’t always throwing herself at him. 

So, why doesn’t he draw a line? Why won’t he create the boundary he so obviously needs? It’s maddening. 

You wish for the patrol minutes to fly by so you can escape, grab a few drinks, and retreat to the safety of binge-watching anime, where you can finally process your feelings. 

Your friend’s ringtone cuts through your frustration as Mai nuzzles into Xavier, earning a grimace from him as he pulls back slightly. The deep voice on the other end of your phone call soothes your irritation like crisp, smoky whiskey. 

“Sylus,” you breathe, relief washing over you at the welcome distraction. You hadn’t realized how much you needed it until now.

“You sound upset, sweetie. Is a certain naughty kitten causing you some frustration again?” he teases, referring to the skank currently toeing Xavier’s thigh. You glance around, taking in the scene around you, and it only intensifies your disgust. It's a crowded street, and she just pops her boot off and goes for it.

“It would be great if you could come take her away. for like, ever,” you mumble grumpily.

"But then you might miss me," he drawls, a hint of mischief in his voice.

"That's why video chat exists," you reply, rolling your eyes.

Mai knows exactly who’s on the other end of that line, but her confidence in your friendship with Sylus keeps her at ease. She knows you don’t stand in the way of her claim on him. Instead, she leans closer to Xavier, her fingers tracing lazy shapes along his arm, a suggestive grin plastered on her face. 

Yet it’s a futile effort. Xavier is hanging on your every word, his focus unwavering. His remains unreadable as you assure Sylus you'll arrive soon.

Finally, the clock strikes midnight. Unfortunately, you’ve ridden here with Mai, as your car is in the shop. You contemplate how to ask for a lift, but before you can gather the courage, Xavier swiftly breaks free from Mai’s grasp and gently guides you toward his car.

Your brow furrows in confusion. “Xavier!” Mai's voice drips with irritation as she tries to pull him back.

He dodges her intervention, a determined look in his eyes. “Don’t you need a ride?” he asks, keeping his gaze steady on you.

Mai’s stunned expression is almost comical, but Xavier doesn’t give her the satisfaction of a response. He’s not about to subject you to another awkward ride with her, especially when he can’t shake the unsettled feeling that gnaws at him at the thought of you having dinner with Sylus. How easily you seemed to relax upon receiving his call is driving Xavier mad. 

As Mai seethes next to her bike, Xavier’s focus remains ahead, his expression calm, but his grip on the steering wheel is white-knuckled. You angle toward the window, crossing your arms and letting the scenery blur past. Irritation bubbles just beneath the surface, and you can’t help but murmur, “Escaping your master’s leash. Impressive.” 

He glances at you, a sad smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, but then he turns his gaze back to the road, leaving the tension hanging in the air between you.

Sylus is waiting when you pull up, propped casually against the bar’s porch, with a cigarette in hand and a knowing glint in his eyes as he watches you arrive. Xavier seems poised to say something, but you hop out of the car before he can get the words out, striding straight past Sylus and tossing a casual “What’s up?” over your shoulder.

You miss the way Sylus shoots a glance at Xavier—a look that says, “You better behave.” He has no grudge against the hunter; Mai chose Sylus, so what was there for him to resent? That was until Xavier started hurting you.

“I seriously don’t understand what you see in her,” you mutter as Sylus takes a seat, prompting a chuckle from him and a playful ruffle of your hair.

“I find it all part of her charm,” he shoots back with a grin.

With an exasperated sigh, you focus on getting drunk enough to forget Xavier. That task feels daunting until Sylus volunteers for karaoke, his performance drowning out your worries. When he flops back down at the table, he wears a broad grin, eyes sparkling.

“Good, right?” he asks, confidence overflowing, and it takes all your restraint not to tease him.

He’s sensitive about his singing. So, you lean in with your best serious face. “So good, Sy. You’ve gotten even better!”

His ego balloons as he settles back into the booth, nodding appreciatively as he says, “Truly.”

Carmine eyes brightened by the drinks, his flushed face scans the room, and you can’t help but feel a twinge of annoyance at how effortlessly beautiful he looks when he lets loose. Just once, you wish he’d look bad, allowing you to be the cute one in the friendship.

Noticing your irritated appraisal, Sylus chuckles, his arm draping over the booth. He shoots you a mock, severe look. “Better not let your hunter catch you looking at me like that, sweetie. Or Mai, for that matter.”

You snort, rolling your eyes. “Your head is getting bigger. Seriously, it might be wider than your shoulders by now.”

But his smile vanishes, replaced by concern as he studies you. “How are you holding up?”

Your gentle smile reflects your appreciation for his genuine concern. Sylus can be a pain, but he also knows how to be a great friend. “I’m okay, I guess. If your girl gets any more hands-on, though…” You narrow your eyes at him like it’s his fault. “Doesn’t it bother you that she’s all over him lately?”

He shrugs nonchalantly, tossing back a shot. “Sweetie, look at me, then at him—what’s there to worry about?”

Your scoff drips with sarcasm, enough to irk him. He raises an eyebrow and playfully kicks your ankle, smirking as you wince and curse loudly enough to catch others' attention. But soon, his worry returns, his voice softening as he tries to comfort you. “You know their history, dove. Surely, you can see that letting her go will be nearly impossible for him. I warned you about this.”

He did warn you, and you didn’t listen. Now you wish you had. You gave him a tender smile and a reassuring pat on his hand, murmuring, “I know. I just need time to accept it.”

Mission accomplished—both you and Sylus are sufficiently drunk as you head out, making plans for him to drop you off at your place. You’re busy teasing Mephisto, who’s perched on Sylus’s shoulder. His irritated nip catches your attention, and you notice Xavier’s car is still parked outside. 

Xavier knows you can see him, but you turn away, hopping on Sylus’s bike as he takes off. Guilt and irritation bubble within him as he hits the dashboard, cursing softly while watching you disappear into the distance.

When did he start hating Sylus for being near you rather than for being near Mai? As he contemplates, he realizes their relationship hasn’t bothered him lately. He’s certain he heard them banging last night from his apartment, and he couldn’t have cared less. All that consumed his mind was how to show you how sorry he is. 

After a while, his imagination ran wild, turning Mai’s cries of pleasure into thoughts of you, your sweet voice calling out in ecstasy.  His desire grew painfully as he imagined you beneath him, gripping himself tightly as he came hard enough to see stars, all while dealing with the guilt of betraying your trust.

Earlier, words had failed him, bound tight by guilt and nerves. He doesn’t know how to make you understand, but he has to try; the thought of seeing you in pain any longer is unbearable. The need to wrap you in his arms and kiss away that adorable frown grows stronger daily.

The hope of taking you home and getting a chance to try again disappears with your retreating silhouette. He groans in frustration, his head hitting the steering wheel as exhaustion trickles over him.

He’s an absolute mess. He can’t eat or sleep—two of his favorite things. Even meat doesn’t hold appeal right now. He’s miserable. 

Helplessly, he follows you and Sylus, watching your figures from his car as you sit in front of the TV.  Eventually, though, he leaves, knowing knocking on your door in the middle of the night to fall on his knees and apologize isn’t a realistic option unless he wants you to see just how much he’s falling apart over this.

At some point, you fall asleep, and Sylus covers you up before heading out. Both you and Xavier hope for relief in your dreams, but instead, your dreams are haunted by each other’s presence.

Mai has taken the day off to accompany Sylus on a business deal, and as much as you hate to admit it, you miss her. It would have been nice if Sylus had taken you along instead, leaving her here to make Xavier as miserable as you are.

Once upon a time, the thought of being alone with him on a mission filled you with excitement, practically keeping you awake the night before from sheer nerves. Now, you do your best to ignore him, walking just out of reach.

He kicks a rock, a quiet sigh escaping his lips. “We should head back soon; it’s getting late. We can look for the protocore again tomorrow.”

Guilt bubbles up in you at the melancholy lacing his voice. You nod and gesture toward a nearby Wanderer, saying, “Let’s take that one down and head out.”

The two of you fight seamlessly, your movements flowing together in a rhythm more exquisite than what he shares with Mai—something that seems to stun him every time. Without realizing it, he’s started gravitating toward you during battles, often having to forcibly pull himself back to her side.

A fresh pang of guilt gnaws at him, a feeling of drifting further away from what he’s always believed to be his purpose in life. He feels so lost, and there’s only one direction he longs to run in.

When did you become his guiding star?

The trip home is the most awkward car ride you’ve ever endured, the air thick with unease. You let out a long sigh, adjusting your seat as you turn up the volume on Mozart's Symphony No. 41, the "Jupiter" movement, hoping the music can cut through the oppressive silence. The soothing notes help ease Xavier's anxiety a bit, which in turn allows you to relax as the tension around you fades—if only slightly.

But as he parks in front of your place and kills the engine, the uncomfortable atmosphere returns with full force. Every part of you longs to bolt inside, terrified of the conversation that looms ahead. You know what’s coming. He’ll look at you with those beautiful, earnest eyes and say he’s sorry, genuinely believing it, but that apology will only sharpen the pain. If he genuinely cared, he wouldn’t have put you in harm’s way. If you mattered to him, he would have shown it when it counted.

You look away, remaining still in a silent invitation for him to speak.

His soft voice slices through the tension, murmuring, “I’m so sorry.”

Another wave of silence washes over you, anger surging beneath the surface—a force that takes all your strength to suppress. You shake your head in disbelief, your nails digging into your palms as you seek relief from the emotional turmoil. Pain to drown out the pain.

He notices, gently taking your hand, unfurling your fingers, and placing them back in your lap. Your body responds to his touch, a raw ache begging for more, while a part of you screams in frustration. Shooting him a glare, you cross your arms tightly, fighting against the tears welling up.

“Don’t touch me, Xavier.” Your voice is low and firm—an order that conflicts with the desperate plea of your heart, urging you to draw him closer.

His face falls, shoulders slumping as his hand drops to his lap. “Okay,” he whispers, the hurt in his voice cracking your heart a little more. You reach for him, then quickly pull back.

Searching your face, he pleads, “May I have a moment to explain? I know it won’t help, but—”

You grab your bag, cutting him off. “No need; Sylus took care of it. You chase her across the cosmos, hopelessly in love with someone who doesn’t deserve you. I'm caught up. Thank you for the apology, though. Really,” you say softly, closing the door behind you. As you walk away, you can almost feel the weight of his regret lingering in the air.

A date at Meow’s Cafe, surrounded by adorable miniature cats, should be a delightful experience. Yet today, it feels heavy with the weight of Xavier’s absence. It’s your first time here without him, and everything is off; the playful mews of the kitties have lost their charm, grating on your nerves instead, while the usually vibrant atmosphere feels dull and lifeless.

The man sitting across from you is undeniably attractive, with dark, wavy hair, a chiseled jawline, and a smile that promises excitement and chaos. You can’t help but appreciate the way his fingers linger a moment too long on your skin or the longing glint in his eyes. Yet, the ache of Xavier’s absence lingers, casting a shadow over your attempts to enjoy the moment.

Excusing yourself to the restroom, you scrub your hands, your thoughts lingering on thoughts of him. Just as you’re about to shake the memories away, his soft voice—almost a whisper—brushes against your ear. “Does he play as well as me?”

You can almost feel the tension radiating from him, the palpable mix of frustration and jealousy. Xavier’s emotions swirl around him, creating a glow that’s impossible to ignore. Watching you with someone else, someone who seems to draw you in far too easily, has shattered something within him. 

As you turn, you’re startled to find him standing there, his presence commanding and intense. His cheeks are flushed, his breaths quickening, and his hooded blue eyes betray a storm of feelings: anger, grief, desire, and a potent possessiveness that sends a thrilling shiver down your spine.

You fight to maintain your composure, voice steady as you ask, “What are you doing here?” Tara set this date up for you just yesterday, assuring you that it would help you forget about Xavier. Clearly, that wasn’t going to happen.

He closes the distance between you in a heartbeat, his lips grazing your cheek as he pushes you gently against the wall. For a moment, his tender touch makes you forget all about the boundaries you've set.

“What are you—”

He cups your cheek, kissing you so softly it nearly steals your breath away. “There aren’t words to express how sorry I am,” he murmurs, his forehead resting against yours, thumb brushing away your unshed tears as you stand frozen, torn between pushing him away and kissing him again.

You allow his lips to skim your neck, cursing your body’s betrayal when you feel an intense warmth spread through you at just the brush of his breath on your skin. 

“If I could do it over, I wouldn’t make the same choice,” he confesses, his eyes lifting to meet yours with sincerity. The truth in his words shakes him to his core—given another chance, he would choose you without hesitation.

Reality crashes over you, jarring you from his spell. You pull away, a sad, pitying look crossing your face. “Yes, you really would,” you reply quietly, determination solidifying your resolve as you stride out of the cafe with your date in tow.

Your date's name is Ash, but it feels irrelevant; he’s merely a means to an end, a warm body to help work out your frustrations. A pretty placeholder whose touch you imagine belongs to Xavier—a delicious fantasy until you accidentally murmur Xavier’s name, and the atmosphere grows awkward. 

Left alone, forced to find release on your own. Visions of Xavier’s cock filling you up while his beautiful gaze locks with yours consume your mind. You’re a mess of whimpers, chanting his name in a prayer that fills the stillness of your room as you ride an orgasm so powerful it borders on pain. Despite its overwhelming intensity, it does nothing to ease the ache that demands you give in to him, insisting on your claim in every way possible.

It disgusts you how you can still want someone who causes you so much pain, someone who can never care for you like you care for him. 

Your phone pings, lighting up with a message—from Xavier. He hasn’t texted you since that fateful mission, and you kick yourself at the happiness the sudden communication brings you.

“I can’t stop thinking about you.”

Next, a video comes through, sending your phone flying across the carpet as a shriek leaves you. Your hand claps over your mouth in shock, and you immediately rush to retrieve it, relentless desire flooding you at the image on the screen.

Xavier reclines on a sofa with his legs spread wide, his black button-up open to show off his lean, sculpted form. He frees his cock—so hard it looks painful. He must be super sensitive because the moment his hand wraps around himself, he lets out a needy little whimper that curls your toes.

You wish more than anything to take him in your mouth, to taste the pretty beads of precum that make his movements slick and sloppy.

Your stunned murmur of, “W-what is happening…” sounds so horrified and horny that it's comical.

Your fingers move almost of their own accord, slipping deep inside you to match his rhythm. You prop your phone up so your free hand can trail over your body, pinching and rolling your nipples as your breath quickens alongside his. You hate yourself for every touch, but you can’t stop. Your attention latches onto him and nothing else, unable to look away, even if what’s about to happen ends up ruining you. 

His grip firms instantly as if aware of your reaction, and he strokes himself faster. His head kicks back, his eyes slam shut, and a low groan escapes him. “I’m picturing myself inside you,” he admits, “Imagining laying claim to every inch of your body and soul.”

His gaze pierces through the camera, earnest and pleading, his blue eyes shining with unfathomable need.

“You think I wouldn’t make a different choice if given the chance, but you’re wrong. Besides fucking you, regret is a constant on my mind, relentlessly replaying as I watch myself make the stupidest choice of my life.” He lays his head back again, keeping his eyes on the camera as he languidly strokes himself, continuing, “Centuries of longing for and chasing after Mai, of dedicating my very existence to her, and then you come along and turn my entire world upside down with just a smile. You make me want to give up everything I believe in to be with you.”

His words trail off as his movements become frantic. With an incoherent mumble, he says, “I bet you’re so tight… so warm. Are you wet for me, angel? I hope so… W-will you cum with me?” The plea in his voice is unmistakable.

You whimper, nodding frantically, your pussy squeezing your fingers as his filthy words spur you on.

Your gaze flits over his body, unable to settle as your pleasure builds. He’s so pretty—his face flushed, sweat beading on his skin, his cerulean eyes burning bright. A whiny, needy repetition of your name leaves his lips as cum covers his hand and stomach, sending you hurtling into your own release.

Shame fills you when the pleasure subsides. His face moves closer to the camera, and he softly murmurs, “I really miss you,” effectively ripping your heart out and stomping on it before the video cuts off, an unsettling silence filling the air. You want to scream and cry, and most frustratingly, you want a second round with the most significant thing ever filmed.

A sudden realization hits you, and you groan, stuffing your face into a pillow with a muted scream. Work tomorrow is going to be so awkward.

Thank the gods your car is finally back from the shop. An immense sense of relief washes over you, knowing you won’t have to endure another ride with Xavier after what happened last night—or, possibly even worse, with Mai.

However, that relief quickly evaporates as you arrive at work and see Xavier striding toward you. He boldly brushes your hair back and leans in close, whispering, “Did you enjoy yourself last night? I know I did,” his smile warm and inviting.

He takes your chin and tilts your face, his voice soft as he confesses, “I’ve never felt so good. Not even at the thought of Mai.” You squeak in surprise, instinctively pulling away.

Xavier has decided he’s done fighting his feelings for you. The hesitation about the changes this could bring to his life—and the guilt that comes with it—is gone. He wants you more than anything, and now he’s determined to show you just how much.

As you walk side by side on patrol, his soft voice fills the air with light-hearted musings and playful teasing, yet you constantly remind yourself why you must keep your distance.

Meanwhile, Mai glares daggers from behind, trying desperately to distract Xavier at every opportunity. She attempts to hold his hand at one point, batting her lashes with a cute little pout. But he quickly pulls away, brushes your arm tenderly, and continues walking by your side. 

A warmth spreads in your heart, and you can’t help but worry about how easily he’s breaking down the walls you’ve built around yourself.

Mai’s cheerful voice grates on Xavier’s nerves as he struggles to finish his paperwork for the day. The office is empty now, and he’s itching to leave, his mind consumed with thoughts of seeing you.

Mai pulls up a chair, pretending to help him, but her true intentions are clear when she rests her hand on his thigh, continuing to write as if it’s the most natural thing. Her fingers begin their creeping ascent, and Xavier’s heart races. His body locks up, and anxiety rises as the ability to breathe leaves him. 

Mai has always been flirty, something he used to find endearing, even if it was just a ruse to keep him coming back for more. But this was more than suggestive flirtation. When she presses her lips to his for the first time, she sighs as if kissing him brings her true joy.

How many times has he longed for this? Centuries of wishing for this moment—and he feels nothing at all. 

Xavier pulls back with a pained expression, searching her beautiful eyes. He makes no move to stop her, testing how he truly feels. After so much effort and heartbreak over wanting, no, needing this and Mai, he has to be sure before giving it all up.

Her fingers trail delicately over his abs and chest. He lets her kiss him again; this time, Xavier kisses back, trying to coax out some emotion other than this empty void. Kisses trail his skin as she frees his cock, only to pull back in disbelief when she feels his lack of arousal.

He watches her with detachment as she strokes him, pouting when he remains limp in her hand. Gently stopping her as she moves to take him into her mouth, he says, “I can’t do this anymore,” his voice soft but resolute, as a weight lifts from his shoulders.

Mai narrows her eyes, her mask slipping momentarily as she murmurs, “Xavier, you don’t truly want her. You’re just so pent up after all these years that anyone will do,” her veil of teasing returns as she leans closer, urging, “Let me help. This is what you’ve always wanted, right?” 

She frees her breasts from her tank top, squeezing and tugging enticingly. This isn’t the girl he fell in love with—the gentle, kind soul that captured his heart so long ago. Over her lifetimes, she’s become cold and cruel, the alluring brightness in her eyes dimming with time. Xavier realizes he’s been chasing someone who no longer exists, a profound grief washing over him.

Taking out his phone, he finds a picture of you and shows it to Mai as she scowls. Pushing her hand away, he murmurs, “You have no idea what I want. Watch.”

Gazing at your smiling face on the screen, he begins stroking his cock, becoming painfully hard within moments, lust shadowing his features. Mai’s eyes burn with genuine desire and jealousy, but he feels nothing for her.

Tucking himself back into his boxers and fixing his pants, he asks, “Did you throw yourself in front of that Wanderer to lure me into saving you?” This question has nagged him whenever the scene replays in his mind. 

He’s almost certain Mai wasn’t near you when he began the battle, only to find her next to you when the Wanderer attacked. The chaos made it difficult for him to be sure.

The answer becomes clear when Mai clears her throat, quickly glancing away. Nervousness plays on her features as Xavier takes on a chilling demeanor, standing and collecting his paperwork with meticulous movements. Any remaining connection to her ignites and burns away as he regards her coldly, fighting hard to maintain his composure. 

“I’ll be requesting a transfer for both her and myself. In the meantime, don’t even look in her direction,” Xavier says, his calm tone carrying an underlying warning: there will be consequences if she crosses the boundary he’s setting. Adjusting her top, shame, and embarrassment on her features, Mai watches as Xavier turns and walks away. 

Your phone pings as you slip into an oversized T-shirt, and the screen lights up with a message from Sylus: “Looks like you won the game, dove. My money was on you all along,” complete with a celebratory champagne bottle emoji.

What the heck is that supposed to mean? 

You’re about to hit the call button to get an explanation when a knock at the door reveals a rain-soaked Xavier. His eyes light with relief upon seeing you. You let him in, grabbing a towel and doing your best to help him dry off, earning a gentle smile as you fluff his hair. 

“Are you okay?” you ask, pulling away and searching his face.

His fingers brush your cheek tenderly as he nods and says, “If I were to ask you to leave Linkon with me, what would you say?”

Your eyes widen as you sputter, “Um, I—like for the day?” 

He gives you a rare, genuine smile, then chuckles as he replies, “No. Like forever. Together.” He kisses you tenderly and nuzzles your nose. “We can start over somewhere new,” he whispers earnestly.

You want to believe such a thing is possible, but doubt lingers, pulling you away from his embrace. “Xavier… you don’t mean that. Mai—” 

“Is no longer part of my life,” he finishes. Gripping you by the waist and drawing you closer, he tilts your head to meet his gaze.“I don’t care how long it takes to prove it to you. I’m a very patient man,” he murmurs.

“How exactly do you plan to prove it to me?” you ask, your voice low and sensual, surprising even yourself.

You adore the way Xavier’s eyes heat up when he hears it. He hums softly, his lips brushing your ear while one arm holds you close, his fingers tracing down your arm to entwine with yours. When he kisses you this time, your body aches to melt against his, but you stand your ground, determined to make him fight for it. His tongue gently explores your mouth, groaning as he tastes you fully, cupping your cheek and deepening the kiss.

He pulls back and studies you, his thumb grazing your lips, admiring how they glisten as he spreads the moisture around. “So pretty…” he murmurs, his mouth skimming the soft skin under your ear, teeth grazing lightly, sending shivers through your body.

His brows scrunch in a pout as he reaches for your hands that hang limply at your sides, “Why won’t you touch me?” he asks, hurt evident in his tone.

“I’m not sure you deserve it yet,” you mumble, crossing your arms and turning away.

“I see,” he says with a hint of amusement.

Slowly, his touch travels under your shirt, teasing your nipple with light sweeps of his thumb. His mouth and hands explore every inch of your skin he can reach, worshiping you so delicately it takes your breath away. 

“Xavier?”

“Hmm?”

“I want to see you,” you admit, nervousness spilling into your voice.

Xavier’s throat bobs as he nods, his eyes never leaving yours as he sheds his clothing. At first, he’s hesitant, afraid you may not like what you see.

It’s a silly fear since he’s the most perfect thing you’ve ever seen. Lean and slender, his body is honed by centuries of combat, the faint scars on his pale skin testifying to trials overcome. Your hungry eyes catch on his cock, so long and pretty that you moan quietly, just thinking about how good it would feel to take it.

The look of pure longing on your face instantly eases Xavier’s insecurities. His thumb sweeps over his cock, gathering beads of precum before he holds it to your mouth, a plea evident in his eyes. You want to remain strong, but the desire to taste him overpowers you. You suck it clean, your eyes fluttering shut with a sigh. His cock twitches eagerly as a strangled “fuckk, angel” escapes him, his thumb pumping deeply into your mouth as he bites his puffy lip. 

“May I see you too?” he asks quietly, fingers tracing the hem of your shirt. You nod and let him pull it off, fighting the urge to cover yourself as your nipples perk in the chilly air. The way his gaze travels your body is so sensual and awe-filled that it’s almost devastating.

His hands tangle in your hair as he tilts your head, his kiss far more profound than any before. He presses you against the wall, trailing kisses down your stomach and along your inner thighs before pulling your shorts down. A groan escapes him when he sees your bare pussy. 

Instantly, he thumbs open your folds, dragging long, languid fingers through your heat before holding his hand up for you to see. “So wet,” he murmurs, rubbing it around and watching it stick to his fingers. “Is this all for me? he asks, wonder filling his voice. 

You nod, whimpering pitifully as he licks them clean, his eyes shutting in ecstasy at your taste. A desperate curse leaves him as he commands,  “Spread your legs then; I can’t let any go to waste.” You do as he says, whimpering again as his fingers trace delicate circles over your clit. “You’ve done so well for me, angel… practically dripping. You’ll feel amazing like this.” Then his tongue is deep in your cunt, eagerly lapping up your arousal with a deep groan against your skin that shocks your entire system. 

Your fingers tangle in his hair without hesitation, holding his face firmly in place as you grind against it. His straight nose brushes your clit with every turn of your hips, sending waves of pleasure through you. He kneels before you, and his gaze is unwavering as he slips a finger inside you, his lips and teeth teasing your slick, warm skin. Xavier loves how puffy your clit gets under his mouth and how sensitive you are to even the slightest of his touches.

He yearns to be closer to you, to be enveloped in your warmth and your scent as you cum in his mouth. Guiding you to the couch, he lies down and motions for you to come closer. “Use my face,” he commands softly, his voice laden with desire as he finishes. “I want to enjoy my meal.”

He eases you over him, his mouth inhaling you eagerly. Growing frustrated that you won’t put all your weight on him, he pushes you down so your pussy lands flush on his face. “Good girl,” he mumbles against you, urging your hips along. At first, you’re concerned about his ability to breathe, but the worry quickly vanishes as he teases your nipples and plays with your ass.

He whimpers as your fingers finally begin to trace his skin, his hips making needy pumps into the air, desperately seeking friction. Your touches are so tender, your gaze full of adoration, and a giddy smile spreads across your face at the sight of his slick-covered features.

You run your hands lovingly through his hair, the look on your face causing him to fall apart. He lets out a strangled cry that vibrates through your pussy as his cum covers his stomach. He sucks your clit harder, fingers pumping into you rapidly as you ride his face.

“Yes, yes, yess!” you shout, hand gripping his hair tightly while the other reaches around to play in his essence, coating his sensitive, twitching cock as he whimpers quietly. You can’t find it in yourself to feel ashamed as you turn into an absolute slut above him. It’s just so deliciously indecent. 

He’s so sticky from his release, shimmering with sweat and the faint glow of his evol. His face and ears are flushed, your essence covering his mouth and chin. He gazes up at you with so much desire as you bring your soaked fingers to your mouth, tasting them slowly.

The moment he feels your tight walls flutter around his fingers at his taste, he replaces them with his tongue, devouring every bit of your cunt. Even after he cleans all your cum, he refuses to stop. He pulls you tighter against him, forcing your hips to move until you whine and tremble uncontrollably above him.

“T-too much, Xavier, pleasee,” you mumble desperately, tugging at his hair. He chuckles softly and sits up, letting you rest. You settle on his lap as he leans back against the sofa, giving you a gentle smile, his lips still wet and shiny. Your touch is uninhibited now, free from hesitation as your fingers map his skin. 

He’s so responsive. Just the gentlest of touches elicit the most adorable, most sensual sounds. Your fingers ghost over a perked nipple, earning a strangled groan in return. His head kicks, and his hands form tight fists as he tries to show restraint.

You meet his eyes, your voice soft as you ask, ‘Xavier… have you ever felt truly cared for and cherished before?” 

You want to cry and rage when he blushes and turns away, whispering “no” as pain briefly crosses his features. 

Cupping his face, you kiss him tenderly, savoring the taste of yourself on his lips. “I promise, you’ll never have to spend another day without knowing how loved you are,” you vow earnestly.

His eyes widen in surprise as he silently mouths the word “love,” as if trying to see how it feels on his tongue. “No one’s ever said that word to me before,” he admits quietly.

You smile gently, meeting his gaze. “Well, try saying it out loud next time. You need to get used to it.” Your lips find his again, gentle and searching, conveying all the emotions too scary to put into words just yet. You bite and suck at his neck, teasing relentlessly when his body betrays how good it feels. 

You work a faint mark on his collarbone, admiring it with a brush of your fingers as you quietly ask, “Are you really all mine?” Your awe-filled gaze meets his. He pulls you close, cupping the nape of your neck and murmuring, “Yes,” against your lips. A smile lights up your face, mirrored by his beaming expression as he witnesses your joy.

“You are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” he says earnestly, brushing your hair over your shoulder.

You roll your eyes with a teasing grin and mumble, “Don’t push it,” before silencing his words by pressing your tongue into his mouth. He pulls away after a moment, biting his lip as he forces himself to be gentle, playing with your breasts. Little tugs and pinches over one nipple while the other hand traces your curves.

It’s not nearly enough.

“I won’t break, Xavier. You need to do it harder,” you plead, frustration filling your voice.  Your plea is soon replaced with a surprised, strangled cry when he murmurs, “Yes, mam,” and stuffs his mouth full, biting and sucking roughly.

His touch turns rougher, too. His fingers squeeze your ass so hard they’ll surely leave marks, complimenting the bruise blooming on the swell of your breast. 

“All mine,” he says, meeting your eyes with a teasing, confident smile as he echoes your earlier sentiment. You squeak in surprise as he grabs your thighs and presses down, sliding you along his cock, using your pussy to smear his cum around, soaking your heat and thighs in slickness.

You take over, hips moving faster, desperately seeking more of the pleasure he’s bringing you. 

“You’re so soft and warm…” you murmur dreamily, ruining him when you finish with a whimper of, “Gonna feel so good filling me up,” before burying your face in his neck as you move against him.

“Can I put it in? Please?” he begs, lifting your ass just enough to rub circles with his leaking tip at your entrance. He’s trembling, holding back the urge to fuck you roughly. Instead of answering, you lower yourself onto him, wincing as his cock stretches you open. 

He can’t take his eyes away from where you join, watching you drip down his length as he delicately rubs your clit, his eyebrows scrunched up in an adorable expression of concentration. 

“Does it hurt?’ he asks, noticing your quiet gasp of pain as you take him halfway. You nod, whimpering slightly. He leans up to kiss you, pressing down on your bottom lip and tilting your chin to meet your blissed-out gaze. “You’re still so tight, angel. I’ll open you up better next time, I promise.” He nuzzles your nose, trying to distract you from the pain as he pushes in deeper.“Can you take it for me? I-i’m almost there,” he says, his eyes trickling back down to where you suck him in.

Pleasure begins to mix seamlessly with the pain, and you don’t bother to respond, your eyes rolling back as a sigh of ecstasy leaves you. Xavier takes that as a yes and gently presses you down until he bottoms out. Desire begins to overwhelm his features as he watches your essence mix with his at the base of his cock.

He searches your eyes, kissing you softly and murmuring, “How does it feel?” 

“Honestly? Nothing has ever felt so good. So full…” you mumble, starting a slow, torturous cycle of movements. You pull him out to the tip before letting him fill you up again, over and over, until the moment comes when he finally allows himself to let go. He presses you flush against him and pushes deep inside you, setting his own much more intense pace. He spanks your ass with an adorable smile, his blue eyes shining with joy. 

You eagerly match his movements, chanting, “Harder, Xavier! Harder!” You squeal happily when he flips you onto your back, throwing your legs above your head and fucking you so much harder. A mirthful smile appears on his face as his cock pierces deep inside you, forcing out a raw, strangled cry of pleasure. Pleasure builds and crashes in an instant, your pussy gripping and pulsing so tightly around him that he can barely breathe.

“That’s it, baby, cum all over me,” he praises, stroking your clit in time with his thrusts. His pace quickens, helping you ride your release. Sloppy sounds fill the air as you spill over him, spurring him on. He grips your hips tight to keep you from sliding as he fucks into you relentlessly.

“Such a good girl. You can give me another one, can’t you?” he murmurs, his weight pressing down on you, pushing his cock even deeper than before. The soft, pale hair trailing from his pelvis rubs your clit just right. His moves are deliberate, urging you to come again with a sharp cry as tears fill your eyes and your body starts to tremble. 

He kisses your cheek, his movements never slowing. “So perfect for me… Just one more, angel,” he whispers, making pointed thrusts into your g-spot over and over and over until you spill all over him again. 

He can’t seem to stop. Every orgasm he pulls from you only makes him more desperate and needy. “So fucking wet… you have no idea how good you feel,” he mumbles incoherently, burying his face in your neck and bringing you to release again just from the feeling of his warm mouth on your skin and his filthy words. 

“T-too much, Xavier, I can’t! Please!” You’re sobbing and overstimulated—a sensitive, weak mess. 

“Shh. It’s okay… It’ll be over soon. You want to show me how much you love me, right?” His tone is teasing, but the sincerity in his eyes tells you your answer means a lot to him. 

Tears fall harder as he kisses you, and you manage to choke out a strangled “yes.” 

“I know you do,” he says tenderly. His tongue pries open your mouth and softly commands, “Swallow,” as he spits into it. 

Blushing deeply,  you follow his instructions, moaning in ecstasy at the taste, which earns a pleased hum from him. He tugs on your bottom lip, admiring your blissful expression and the tears tracing your cheeks. His praises continue, bringing you closer and closer to the edge again. 

“Such a pretty little angel, following my instructions so well.” Another orgasm approaches alarmingly fast, feeling almost too powerful, and you wonder if your body can withstand it. Xavier seems to read your mind because he mumbles, “You can,” before fucking you even harder. 

You squirt so much that it pulls out a strangled, “Fuck, yes. You’re doing so fucking well…” from him as his cock squelches around inside you. “I–i can’t hold out much longer. You… you feel too good,” he admits softly against your lips.

 “Please, Xavier... Please cum for me, i–i’ll do anything,” you plead, needing to feel claimed by him more than you can express. Wrapping your legs around his waist, you murmur, “Do you want to finish inside?” pulling him as close as you can. 

He whimpers at your words, cradling your head against his chest as his cock continues to fuck into you mercilessly. The moment his hips stutter and he sinks into you with one last, deep thrust, his cum spills inside of you, and he captures your lips in the most tender kiss you’ve ever felt. Despite reaching his climax, he doesn’t stop. His cock pistons into you with renewed force.

With fierce determination, he pulls one final orgasm from you, his movements gradually slowing as you ride through it. As soon as he pulls back and looks at your ruined form beneath him, lust clouds his features, and his cock hardens again. Anxiety hits you over the state of your more-than-abused pussy, and you whine, “Noo, Xavier—just let me take care of you for a little while. ’m too sensitive.” 

He chuckles, scooping you up in his arms and resting back on the couch. You try to fight the arousal his hardened length pressing against your ass brings. He meets your gaze, kissing you softly and holding you close as your heartbeats grow steady. He peppers your face with gentle, searching kisses. 

“Earlier, I asked you how you felt about leaving Linkon with me,” he says, tucking hair behind your ear as nervousness plays on his face. 

“Mhmm; the forever trip,” you murmur dreamily. 

He smiles softly, meeting your gaze, and asks, “So, what’s your answer?” 

You nuzzle his nose and answer earnestly, “I’ll follow you anywhere, Xavier. Just lead the way.”

A month later, you wake up before dawn to find Sylus’s face just inches from yours, a wry grin on his lips as he glances at Xavier sleeping beside you. “I took your key away specifically to prevent this kind of thing,” you hiss, careful not to wake Xavier as you untangle yourself from his limbs and quietly climb out of bed.

You gently brush his hair back, marveling at how his smile lingers even in sleep now. The melancholy that once plagued him for centuries has vanished, replaced by a serenity brought by your affection. He often tells you that you make him feel truly happy and free for the first time in his life. 

After pulling on a robe, you follow Sylus to the kitchen, halting in your tracks when you see a brand-new laptop on the counter. “Sy, what did you do?” you ask hesitantly, eyeing the device with suspicion. He rolls his eyes and motions toward it.

“What does it look like, sweetie?” he retorts, as if that clears everything up.

“Why did you buy me a laptop, Sylus? You know I don’t like gifts…” you start, but he quickly interrupts.

“Well, you should have thought about that when you decided to move several hours away from me,” he replies. You can sense he’s happy for you and Xavier, but there’s a hint of struggle with this change in your relationship.

Drawing him close, you pinch his cheeks, enjoying the irritated glare he gives you. “You’re my best friend, Sylus. I’m not just going to up and leave you after all these years,” you assure him, giving his nose a gentle boop before turning away.

He chuckles, relaxing a fraction as he ruffles your hair and then refocuses on the task at hand. “I bought you the best one on the market. They assured me it has an excellent camera—I need to ensure that my pretty face comes through crystal clear during our video chats,” he says with a teasing grin.

“Ah, I almost forgot,” he adds, casually pulling a new, shiny smartphone from his pocket and handing it to you. “Both this and the laptop come with a tracking system that alerts me immediately if anything seems off,” he assures you, gently grasping your chin to meet your gaze. “Never hesitate to reach out for my help or just for company. I’m here for you, no matter how far away you are. Got it, dove?”

You want to tease him for being so serious, but his sincerity makes it difficult. It’s a rare and precious thing from him. With a gentle smile and tears welling up in your eyes, you pull him in for a tight hug. He freezes for a moment in surprise, but then his arms wrap around you, a smile spreading across his face as he swings you around.

When your feet settle back on the floor, the sadness has melted from his features. “The laptop has top-notch sound specs, too, so I can still sing to you when you’re feeling down,” he reassures you. It takes considerable effort to suppress the grimace that threatens to break your mask of enthusiasm.

Sylus lets out a low, knowing chuckle, easily seeing through you. “Hopefully, you’ll be able to fake that better over video,” he muses.

You grin and look around your empty home, excitement coursing through you. The transfer request with the Hunter’s Association went through almost immediately, and Xavier found a charming cottage with a small farm, plenty of bookshelves, and just enough room for the two of you. Sylus can’t help but smile at your evident joy. “Today’s the big day,” he teases.

You nod, your grin widening as he raises an eyebrow and offers a suggestive head toss. “You should wake your precious hunter now. You’ve got a lot to do,” he says.

Giggling, you pull him down to plant a kiss on his cheek, earning a blush that makes you laugh even harder. Then, you dash off to wake Xavier.

[whereisloe]

my angel ໒꒱

“come from way above” ❀ sevika x reader 𓆝. 𓆟

Got this idea while writing a Silco fic and realized not enough people are writing for this fine ass woman OHMYGOF

I miss my wife, tails. i miss her a lot.

“This doesn’t hurt, does it?” you’d ask as you treated Sevika’s wound, carefully watching every faint expression on her face as you did so. She only grunted in response before letting her head fall into her hand. Considering the positions you both assumed, the woman had been towering over you as you sat comfortably between her legs dressing her abdominal wound. “Aaw , we’re almost done. Just keep being good for me, yeah?” You’d tease with a passive pat to her thigh as you prepped yourself to wrap her waist.

“Shut up” She’d force through a wince as you applied pressure to the deep cut, wrapping it as you did so. “You talk too much”

Once you finished the wrap your hands were quick to roam. Snaking up her chest, and latching onto her neck as you pulled your lips onto her jaw. “Keep getting hurt like this and I might just have to give Silco a little visit for all the trouble he keeps putting you through” Sevika scoffed, half-amused at your wit as she leaned back into the chair. “That man would eat you alive, sweetheart” The petname came off more condescending than endearing as Sevika undermined your words, even brushing off the genuine concern behind the joke with a bittersweet smirk.

“Oh, you promise?” Now it was your turn to laugh as you watched that smirk wipe clean off her face when her expression grew darker. You ignored her very obvious mood change and continued cleaning up your gear. “Y’know, maybe I could get you that pay raise. What do you think?” You’d stand from your crouched position and slowly spin around, flaunting your body at the woman. You even grabbed her rugged hand and bring it to your hip as you knelt into the seat of the chair that had been exposed between her legs.

“Hilarious.” She wouldn’t even half mind you as her hand quickly replaced your hip with a cigar. You rolled your eyes at her passiveness before returning to the ground to clean up your mess. At some point you even walked away allowing Sevika to smoke in peace as you cleaned your equipment.

Once you reentered the room, you’d find Sevika casually reclined on your couch with an unlit cigar still hanging out the side of her mouth. As you got closer her eyes locked on to you, roaming you up and down but once they reached your face, they softened. Just two gentle, big eyes admiring from a distance as you admired back. You were snapped out of your trance when she threw a lighter at you. You caught the metal with ease and examined it. “You forgot to light me” She said plainly, attempting to hide the sentiment she held toward the action. It was reminiscent of the first time the two of you met outside a brothel. Long story short, Sevika was quick to describe you as a huge distraction to her mission that day despite your short interaction that even you barely remembered.

“How cruel of me” You knelt down in front of the couch, now back to admiring your partner from below as her half lidded eyes met your wide ones. Her hand, rough as it was, gently held your cheek as her thumb brushed over your bottom lip. You felt yourself melt into her warm palm as the contrast between her calloused hand and your plush skin sent chills down your skin. You sparked the lighter twice before bringing it to the end of Sevika’s cigar.

She watched you. Allowing the flame to illuminate your soft expressions, and in her eyes, manipulating your features. Making you resemble yourself that night many years ago. She wasn’t any less taken by your more aged features if anything she appreciated them. Glad to see you grow older alongside her than having to admire your beauty from an ageless photo. You would notice her unwavering stare once you tossed the lighter aside and decided to make brief conversation. “You know, I don’t remember much of the first time we met” Sevika took a puff of her cigar before nodding urging you to continue. “But I remember without a doubt the second time”

“I’d be more concerned if you didn’t” She chuckled under her breath as the memories came flooding in. You took note of her already flaking cigar as she held it between her two fingers. Quickly, you placed your ceramic tray gently to her stomach just in time to catch the ash. “That guy had a lot of nerve putting his hands on you, you’re lucky I was there. Otherwise, who knows the things he would’ve did—” Sevika cursed at the thought.

“Well, you were there and I am forever grateful for you,” your voice was low as you rub senseless shapes across her wrist with the pad of your thumb. “my angel” the words were hushed as you kissed the base of her palm, then her wrist, down her arm, and back up her shoulder until you reached her nape where you took a moment. In this time, you pushed yourself onto her, feeling her shift to a more seated position to accommodate for you, you straddle her hips as you tossed your arms carelessly over her shoulders. The ceramic tray had fallen out from under you meeting the concrete with a shattering sound as the shards dispersed. “Damn it” You sighed as you began shifting away from your partner only for her to rest a heavy hand on your waist.

“I’ll clean it, later” Sevika gently guided you back into herself only to latch onto your neck. A shaky breath left your agape lips as you laid helplessly above Sevika. The heat in your cheeks only spread as she shamelessly left those sticky love bites all over your neck.

The sounds that fell from your lips only further egged her on as she found herself getting lower and her hand higher as it slid up your stomach. Eventually, you grew fed up with her slow teasing and brought your fingertips to the seams of your shirt and watched as Sevika’s gaze grew harsh with anticipation. You were ready to lift the cloth but quickly felt your blood run cold as three heavy knocked fell against your front door. You practically jumped out your skin as Sevika scowled at the source of the noise. “Fuck, I’ll get it” You held a hand over your heart as your slowly opened the door, meeting the eyes of a man who seemed to be one of Silco’s goons.

“Sevika, boss needs ya” The man completely disregarded you. You huffed under your breath and glanced up noticing how she was already behind you, prying the door further open. “Gotchu, now get the hell out of here before somebody sees you” Sevika’s voice was cold and harsh as she talked with the man, her tone almost foreign to you as you waited behind the door for Sevika to finish. Once she did, the door was shut with a frustrated grunt as she leant up against the door contemplating her next move.

“You need me to kill him?” From behind, you brought both your arms around her, pressing your face against her shoulder, you felt her laugh. “I’m sure you could.” She turned around and pressed a brief kiss to your temple. “Drinks on me next date to make up for this”

“Drinks are always on you” Your thumbs rubbed anxiously against her waist as you become increasingly aware of how much you hated when she left.

“Guess I need to stop fucking up, then” She gave your cheek on last stroke before turning to leave only to be stopped when you grabbed her mech hand. “You’re off to a bad start if you’re just gonna leave like that” You pulled yourself into her chest, standing on your toes as your lips locked with hers. Moving in tandem, Sevika fell against the door as you cupped her face in your palms and grew warm as her hand fell on the small of your back. Toward the end of your kiss you felt that warm, genuine smile of hers form against your lips as you fell back onto your heels.

“Be sure to fly back home to me, my angel”

god punishes me by making my wives fictional :( also have yall read that hexstrap fic??? sevika please just the tip 🙏😩

[simplygojo]

ok ive followed you for awhile and i love your writing youre so talented! if youre open to it i wanted to request something. basically my idea was like (aged up) you nobara, yuji, megumi, maki, toge are friends and you play a spicy truth or dare game... basically it ends with crushes confessing their feelings and spicy preferences/kinks and stuff. i was thinking yuji x reader or megumi x reader but anything works. i totally get if you think this is weird and dont want to do it so no worries! - anon <3

Drink, Dare, and Desire

Authors Note: I loved this request!! Thank you so much for your kind words, I really hope you like this and hope it was something along the lines of what you were looking for! 

My requests are always open :)

Pairing: Adult/Megumi Fushiguro x f/reader

Word Count : 3.6K

Warnings : 18+ Content, (mild) SMUT! Alcohol Use!

The night was alive with the hum of the city just outside the dorm windows. You, along with Nobara, Yuji, Megumi, Maki, and Toge, were sprawled across the room, the remnants of a half-eaten takeout dinner and a mostly drained bottle of sake scattered between you.

It wasn’t often that you all found time to hang out like this. Between training and missions, these moments of downtime were precious—and apparently, very unpredictable.

“Alright, alright, who’s next for a drink?” Nobara chirped, swirling the sake bottle in her hand, her eyes gleaming with mischievous energy.

Yuji stretched lazily, a wide grin on his face as he glanced around. “Why stop at drinking when we could make it interesting?”

It took less than a second for Nobara to catch on. “Ooh, what are you suggesting?”

Maki, sitting back with her arms folded, raised an eyebrow but didn’t seem opposed. Meanwhile, Toge, his quiet demeanor in stark contrast to the energy around him, gave a casual shrug. It was rare to see him so relaxed, which probably had something to do with the sake flowing freely.

“Truth or dare,” Yuji declared, rubbing his hands together like he was about to unveil some grand plan.

A soft groan escaped Megumi, who had been sitting quietly beside you, a slight frown on his face as he watched the chaotic energy unfold. “This is a terrible idea,” he muttered, though you could sense a slight interest beneath his usual stoic demeanor.

You snorted, nudging him lightly. “Don’t be such a buzzkill, Fushiguro.”

He shot you a sidelong glance, his lips twitching upward for a second before settling back into his familiar expression. But even as he tried to seem unaffected, there was a flicker of curiosity in his gaze. Truth or dare games had a way of revealing more than they were meant to, and maybe, just maybe, you were hoping for exactly that.

Nobara wasted no time, slapping the floor in excitement. “Okay! Yuji, since it was your idea, you go first. Truth or dare?”

“Dare,” Yuji responded instantly, leaning back on his hands, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

Nobara’s grin widened, and you knew from that look she had something ridiculous in mind. “I dare you… to chug your drink, then kiss someone in the circle.”

The room fell into a momentary hush, all eyes darting toward Yuji as his grin faltered for just a second before he leaned forward and grabbed his drink.

His Adam’s apple bobbed as he chugged the remainder of his sake, slamming the cup down with a triumphant look on his face. Without hesitation, he leaned over to Toge, planting a dramatic kiss on his cheek.

Toge raised a brow, his face impassive as always, but there was a flicker of amusement in his eyes. “Salmon,” he said, giving Yuji a light shove, which only made everyone burst out laughing.

Maki shook her head, a small smirk playing on her lips. “Weak.”

“You’re just mad you weren’t the one kissed,” Yuji teased, wiping the corner of his mouth with a grin.

“Dream on, idiot,” Maki shot back, but the playful tension between them was undeniable.

Toge, ever the quiet observer, pointed to you next, his expression calm as he said, “Tuna mayo?”

“Truth,” you answered, deciding to take it easy for now. You could already feel a warmth spreading through you, the sake making everything seem a little hazier, a little more relaxed.

Yuji leaned forward with an eager expression. “Who do you think is the most attractive here?”

A collective groan followed the question, though there was a sense of anticipation hanging in the air. You felt the weight of their stares, especially Megumi’s, whose gaze seemed to pierce through you.

You cleared your throat, trying to play it cool, but you could feel the heat creeping up your neck. “Megumi,” you finally said, the word tumbling out softly, almost shyly.

The room erupted in laughter and teasing remarks, but all you could focus on was the subtle way Megumi’s jaw tightened, his eyes darting away as a faint flush rose to his cheeks.

“Wow, no hesitation,” Nobara teased, nudging Megumi’s arm with her elbow. “Didn’t think you had it in you.”

Megumi grumbled something under his breath, but his usual stoic front was beginning to crack, a small, rare smile pulling at the corner of his lips.

“Alright, alright, moving on,” you said quickly, trying to divert the attention. “Nobara, truth or dare?”

“Dare,” she replied instantly, crossing her arms over her chest with a look that screamed ‘challenge me.’

You bit your lip, thinking for a moment before smirking. “I dare you to tell us one of your kinks.”

Nobara’s eyes widened slightly, her confident facade faltering for just a second before she burst into laughter. “Oh, come on! Alright, fine.” She leaned back, her cheeks flushed—though whether it was from the alcohol or embarrassment, you couldn’t tell. “I like it rough—like really rough.”

The room collectively gasped before bursting into a mixture of laughter and wide-eyed stares. Yuji let out a loud “What?!” while Maki just shrugged with a look that said, Not surprised.

“That’s way too much information,” Yuji groaned, covering his face with his hands while Nobara smacked him on the back.

“What, too much for you, Yuji?” Nobara teased, clearly enjoying the moment. “Maybe I’ll dial it back next time.”

Toge snickered quietly, glancing at Yuji, whose face was flushed for an entirely different reason now.

—

The game continued, each round more daring and revealing. Maki, always calm and collected, had admitted that she preferred someone who could challenge her both physically and ‘test her limits.’

Toge, while still being mostly silent, revealed through hand gestures and a few simple words that he liked to be taken control of and bossed around—makes sense given his cursed speech ability.

Yuji, with his usual lack of filter, shared a little too much about his curiosity in trying anything—and he meant everything—at least once, leaving Nobara shaking her head and everyone else laughing.

By the time it was Megumi’s turn again, the air in the room felt charged, the stakes higher now that almost everyone had bared more than just their emotions.

Maki’s sharp gaze landed on Megumi, and you could practically see the gears turning in her mind. “Alright, Fushiguro, truth or dare?”

He looked almost bored, but you could tell he was being careful. “Dare.”

A slow, almost wicked grin spread across Maki’s face. “I dare you to kiss y/n.”

Your heart nearly stopped. The laughter and chatter from the others faded into the background as you locked eyes with Megumi. His expression didn’t change, but you noticed how his eyes darkened slightly, like he was weighing his options.

The whole room seemed to still, waiting for his next move.

Without breaking eye contact, Megumi stood up, moving toward you with a calmness that belied the tension swirling around him. Every step he took seemed deliberate, and you could feel the heat rising to your face as the distance between you closed.

He stopped right in front of you, so close you could feel the warmth of his body, the scent of his cologne mixed with the alcohol in the air. His voice was low when he spoke, meant only for your ears. “Are you okay with this?”

You could barely nod, your breath hitching as he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that started soft, almost teasing.

But when you responded, pressing into him, the kiss deepened, the intensity building between you until all the nerves and tension melted away. His hand slipped to your waist, pulling you closer, his thumb brushing against your skin in slow, deliberate circles.

When he finally pulled away, the room erupted in cheers and teasing catcalls, but you could hardly focus on any of it.

The only thing you could think about was the way Megumi’s hand lingered on your waist, his eyes still locked on yours as though you were the only person in the room.

“Wow,” Yuji finally broke the silence, clapping his hands together. “That was intense.”

“Way to go, Fushiguro,” Nobara added, winking at you with a knowing smile.

Megumi, still quiet, returned to his spot beside you, but this time, his body language was different.

There was no more guarded front, no more distance. Instead, his knee brushed against yours, his arm resting just a little too close to be accidental.

The game had peeled back some of his usual stoicism, and now there was something deeper lurking beneath his calm exterior—something you could feel humming in the space between you. 

You dared to glance over at him, only to find his eyes already on you, their dark intensity sending a rush of heat to your cheeks. He didn't look away, didn't even try to hide the fact that he was watching you.

Your breath hitched slightly, the sudden weight of his gaze pressing down on you, making your pulse quicken. It was like he was trying to read you, see past the casual facade you were putting up for the others.

But his eyes weren’t just curious—they were hungry, filled with a desire you weren’t sure you were ready to face head-on, but that also thrilled you in ways you hadn’t expected.

The others were too caught up in their laughter to notice the way the air crackled between you and Megumi, but you were hyper-aware of every single movement he made. Even the subtle shift in his posture, the way his hand rested dangerously close to your thigh, sent sparks through you.

You swallowed, trying to shake off the way your skin prickled with awareness, but it was impossible. The more you tried to ignore him, the more your body seemed to betray you, the warmth in your stomach spreading lower with every lingering glance he threw your way.

Then, as if on cue, Megumi stood up, his movements slow and deliberate. "I'm getting another bottle," he murmured, his voice low and rough around the edges, like he was holding back more than just his words.

You weren’t prepared for what came next. As he rose, his hand grazed your thigh—a light, seemingly casual touch, but it set every nerve in your body on fire. 

His fingers lingered for just a fraction of a second longer than necessary, sending a jolt of electricity through you, and when you looked up, his eyes met yours again, darker now, filled with an unspoken promise. 

Your breath caught in your throat, and for a moment, everything around you blurred—Nobara’s laughter, Yuji’s teasing, Maki’s quips—all of it fading into the background. 

All you could focus on was the heat of Megumi’s touch, the way it had seared through you, leaving your skin tingling with anticipation—you wanted him, bad.

The room felt too small, too hot, and you were suddenly hyper-aware of every inch of space between you and him. It was nothing, really—a simple touch, a brush of fingers—but it felt like everything.

Like the air had been sucked out of the room, leaving only the tension that crackled between you both.

He disappeared for a moment, leaving you to catch your breath. But even as he walked away, you could still feel him. It was like his presence clung to you, the weight of his gaze lingering on your skin even in his absence.

When Megumi returned with another bottle of sake, his calm facade was back in place, but you weren’t fooled. There was a subtle shift in the way he moved, the way his eyes flicked to you as he sat back down, this time even closer than before. 

His thigh brushed against yours, just barely, but it was enough to send another rush of heat pooling in your stomach.

You could feel him now, not just his physical presence, but the storm of emotions brewing just beneath the surface.

You shifted in your seat, suddenly too aware of every inch of your body—how close you were sitting, the way your legs almost touched, the heat radiating off him.

It felt like every breath you took was somehow synced with his, the air between you buzzing with a tension that neither of you acknowledged out loud but was impossible to ignore.

Nobara was saying something, but you barely registered the words. Your focus had narrowed, zeroing in on the way Megumi’s fingers brushed against the rim of his glass, the way his jaw clenched slightly when he looked at you, like he was holding something back. 

The tension was suffocating, but in the best possible way, like it was wrapping around you, pulling you both into a world where nothing else mattered.

You shifted again, but this time it felt deliberate. The tiniest of movements, your knee brushing against his, the fabric of his pants against your skin. 

It was innocent enough on the surface, but the way his eyes darkened in response told you everything you needed to know. The tension between you had been building for too long, simmering just beneath the surface, and now, it felt like it was reaching a boiling point.

When he looked at you again, his gaze was heated, his lips parting slightly as if he wanted to say something but was holding back. You couldn’t help the way your pulse quickened, your heart thudding in your chest. 

You wanted him to break first, to give in to whatever this was that had been hanging between you for so long.

—

The night was winding down, but the weight of everything that had been said—and left unsaid—hung heavily in the air. The others had drifted off to their rooms, their laughter fading into the background as the dorm grew quieter.

It was just you and Megumi now, the soft glow of the lamplight casting long shadows across the room, highlighting the distance between you that was rapidly shrinking with every passing second.

Megumi stood close, his usual stoic expression softer now, more vulnerable than you had ever seen. His fingers brushed against your arm, sending a spark of electricity down your spine. His eyes flickered, like he was searching for the right words but couldn’t quite find them.

"You’re staying, right?" His voice was quiet, hesitant, the rough edge of his usual demeanor replaced with something rawer, something real.

You nodded, heart pounding. "Yeah. I’m staying."

The silence that followed was thick with anticipation, the unspoken tension between you two finally rising to the surface after simmering for so long.

You could feel the magnetic pull between you, an invisible thread tugging you closer, binding you in this shared moment of vulnerability and desire. 

Before you could say anything else, Megumi’s resolve seemed to snap. His lips were on yours again, more urgent this time, as if the dam holding back everything he’d been feeling for so long had finally burst.

His hands slipped to your waist, pulling you flush against him, his grip firm but careful, like he was afraid to let go.

This kiss was different from the one earlier, more intense, filled with unspoken promises and a hunger that neither of you had fully realized until now.

It was as if all the time spent pretending, all the looks, the touches, the quiet moments shared between you, had led to this. 

You let out a long-awaited moan into his mouth as your lips moved hungrily in sync, as if releasing all the tension you’d been sitting in all night.

The fire between you was no longer just a flicker—it had ignited into something all-consuming, something you couldn’t ignore any longer.

You kissed him back with equal intensity, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as you pressed yourself closer, desperate to erase any remaining space between you. 

His lips moved against yours with a rhythm that felt both familiar and new, like you had been waiting for this moment your entire life. The heat between you was overwhelming, your mind hazy with the sheer closeness of him.

Megumi’s hands roamed your waist, slipping beneath the fabric of your shirt, his fingers rough and warm as they explored the sensitive skin beneath.

His touch was deliberate, slow, as though he was savoring every second, every inch of your body that he could claim. 

Each pass of his fingertips was electric, leaving a trail of heat in their wake, igniting a fire deep inside you that you could no longer contain.

The moment his skin touched yours, it was like a spark had been lit, an intense awareness coursing through your body. 

His hands slid up the curve of your waist, pausing just beneath your ribs, his thumbs grazing the underside of your chest with an aching slowness that sent shivers racing down your spine.

The contact was subtle, but the heat from his touch seared into you, making your breath hitch and your pulse race.

Your senses were on overdrive—every small stroke of his fingers, the way his nails lightly grazed your skin, sent a rush of heat pooling in your core.

The alcohol had dulled your inhibitions, making you hyper-aware of every inch of him against you, but it was more than that. 

The intimacy, the raw connection you shared with him, was overwhelming, heightening the undeniable chemistry that crackled between you.

You could feel it in every brush of his skin against yours, every soft exhale of his breath on your neck as he nibbled at your soft skin.

The tension built with every passing second, your body responding to him in ways you couldn’t control. 

His hands moved higher, his touch growing bolder, more possessive, and it was almost unbearable—the way you ached for more, for him to go further, to close the distance that still remained between you.

Your body trembled beneath his touch, anticipation coursing through your veins as you leaned into him, needing him closer, needing more of him.

Your soft gasp filled the space between you as Megumi’s lips pressed against the side of your neck, trailing a slow, deliberate path down your skin. His breath was warm, ragged, and every exhale sent a wave of heat coursing through you. 

He kissed the sensitive spot just below your ear, the warmth of his lips and the scrape of his teeth drawing another shiver from you. It was maddening—the way he took his time, teasing you with soft, lingering kisses that left your body trembling with need.

His lips pressed against the hollow of your throat, and the sensation of his mouth on your skin made you feel like you were unraveling, your body responding to him with a mind of its own. 

Every kiss, every stroke of his fingers sent another wave of heat crashing through you, your thoughts muddled by the intoxicating combination of alcohol, desire, and the closeness of his body against yours.

You could feel his breath falter, his own restraint slipping as his lips moved against your skin, the heat between you becoming almost unbearable. He kissed lower, his lips trailing along your collarbone, leaving a path of warmth and want in their wake. 

Your heart raced, your body thrumming with the need for more, for him to touch you everywhere, to finally give in to the desire that had been building between you for what felt like forever.

As his hands tightened around your waist, his fingers pressing firmly into your skin, you knew that you weren’t the only one losing control.

Megumi’s breath came faster, more ragged, his kisses turning hungrier, more desperate, as though he was just as consumed by this moment as you were. 

The world outside faded into nothing, leaving only the two of you, tangled in each other, the heat of your bodies and the tension that had been simmering between you for far too long finally breaking free.

He paused for a moment, his forehead resting against yours as both of you caught your breath. His hands still held you close, refusing to let go, and when his eyes met yours again, they were dark with an intensity that made your heart race.

"Y/n," he whispered, his voice rough and low, filled with a vulnerability that made your chest tighten. "I’ve wanted this for so long... wanted you."

Your heart fluttered at his confession, the weight of his words settling deep inside you. You had always known there was something between you and Megumi, but hearing it from him, feeling it in the way he touched you, made it all feel so much more real.

"I’ve wanted you too," you whispered back, your voice barely audible, but you knew he heard it. He didn’t need words to understand—he could feel it in the way you clung to him, the way your body fit perfectly against his.

He captured your lips again, this time slower, deeper, savoring every second of it. The kiss was languid, filled with all the emotions you had both been too afraid to admit until now. His hands traced up your back, drawing you impossibly closer, his fingers tangled in your hair as the kiss grew more passionate.

The world outside faded into nothingness, leaving only the two of you, wrapped in each other’s warmth and need. Time seemed to stretch, the only sound in the room the soft gasps and sighs as you both gave in to the moment, to the desire that had been building between you for so long.

Whatever unspoken boundaries had existed between you and Megumi before this night had shattered, leaving only the two of you, tangled in each other’s arms, with nothing but your shared desire and the heat of the moment to guide you.

There was no turning back now.

[llxferim]

-"Choose" part 1

a/n: i had so much fun writing this oml, my wandanat obsession is getting out of hand. I'll post another fic today AND tomorrow :))

Part 2

REQUESTS ARE OPEN!

Pairings: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader, Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: When both Wanda and Natasha confess their feelings for you, you're torn between them. To make a choice, you decide to take each of them on a date. But it just leaves you even more uncertain than before. (Maybe part 1?)

Warnings: smut, 18+, no yn used, Wanda and nat are a tease, eventual smut, smut with plot. teasing, receiving oral (reader). fem!reader, flirting.

Word count: 5.6k (it's a big one so buckle up)

"Both of them?" Kate asks, her eyes widening in surprise as she steadies her aim with the bow. The target looms in the distance, a stark contrast against the backdrop of the training room. "Seriously? You've got two Avengers interested in you?"

She hands the bow back to you, the weight of it bringing you crashing back to reality. Your mind is still reeling, trying to process everything that happened. It's been a week of absolute chaos-Wanda's unexpected confession adds another layer to the situation that began when Natasha, asked you out right before a mission. A few days went by and both of them were acting as if nothing happened, waiting for your response.

You can still picture Nat’s casual shrug before she leaped out the window as if confessing to someone and then diving into danger was just another Tuesday for her.

"I have no idea what to do," you admit.

You draw back the bowstring, feeling the tension build in your muscles. The arrow flies, hitting the target with a satisfying thud that echoes through the room. The sound mirrors the way your heart has been pounding ever since this whole situation began.

"Here you are," Kate says, her tone a blend of amusement and disbelief, "taking down supervillains, and saving the world- regularly might I add—, but two incredibly attractive, badass women liking you, is what you're worried about?" There's a teasing to her voice.

You pinch the bridge of your nose, feeling a headache forming as you sink back into your chair. The weight of the situation settles on your shoulders. "I know!" you exclaim, the words coming out in a rush. "It's ridiculous. I mean, I'm just... me. I never expected any of this. Not Natasha, not Wanda, not any of it."

"Listen," Kate says before She nocks another arrow, her movements fluid. The arrow whistles through the air, striking the target dead center before she retracts the bow with a satisfied smirk. "What if you just... see how both of them are on a date? You know, get to know them outside of all the world-saving and villain-fighting?"

"Like, go out with both of them?" you ask, your brow furrowing as you give her a skeptical look. "I don't want to two-time them, Kate. They deserve better than that." "No, no, " Kate shakes her head. "I'm not saying that. Just go on a single date with them, then decide." She shrugs, a mischievous glint dancing in her eyes.

You stare at her for a long moment, letting the idea sink in. It's outrageous, just simply crazy, and yet... "That's... a terrible idea," you finally admit, heaving a deep sigh as you push yourself up from your chair. Your muscles protest, reminding you of the intense training session you've just been through.

"Rude!" Kate exclaims. "Hey, where are you going?" she calls out as you start to walk away, her voice a mix of curiosity and surprise.

"To go try your stupid idea," you mutter, making sure your voice is just loud enough for her to hear. Which earns you laughter from her. You can't help but wonder what you're getting yourself into.

**

A few days later, still somewhat in disbelief, you found yourself seated across from Wanda at a cozy café.

Just days ago, she had been hurling bad guys around with mere flicks of her fingers. Now, here she sat, looking utterly charming as she sipped coffee from a strawberry-shaped mug.

Cute.

You catch yourself stealing glances at her over the top of your menu. Wanda's striking scarlet hair falls loosely around her face, soft strands brushing against her cheeks, hiding those captivating green eyes, the ones that you wish were on you right now. You find yourself wanting to reach out, to gently tuck her strands back to reveal her face completely.

Just as the thought crosses your mind, Wanda's gaze flicks upward, locking onto yours. "Enjoying the view, darling?" she teases, her voice low and playful, with just a hint of her Sokovian accent.

Your heart rate instantly kicks up a notch, and you can feel warmth blooming across your cheeks. "what? Can I not admire my date?" you reply, aiming for a light tone but hearing the slight tremor in your voice.

"didn't say that" she responds, a sultry smile playing on her lips as she leans in slightly. The movement is subtle, but it closes the distance between you just enough to make your pulse quicken. "Admire as much as you want, darling. I assure you, I'm not going anywhere." The air between you seems to thicken, charged with an electric tension that makes you acutely aware of every small movement, every shared glance. You can't help but wonder how the evening might progress, how close you might find yourselves as the night wears on.

In an attempt to steady yourself, you take a long sip of your drink. The warmth of the coffee does little to calm the flutter in your stomach or slow your racing thoughts. "So," you begin, searching for a topic to keep the conversation flowing "what's been your favorite mission lately? Fury’s been giving us so many"

Wanda's lips curl into a smirk, her eyes glinting with a mixture of mischief and something deeper, more intense. "Honestly?" she replies, her tone carrying a playful challenge. "I'd have to say it was the one where I got to swoop in and save your ass." You can't help but chuckle, "Oh, come on. I didn't need saving," you protest lightly. "I was handling it perfectly fine."

"Sure you were," Wanda laughs. Her entire face lights up with the smile, and you find it impossible to look away. "But I'm glad I could step in. It gave me an excuse to play the hero for you."

Almost unconsciously, you lean closer, drawn in by the magnetic pull between you. "What if." you begin, your voice dropping to a near-whisper, "I told you I rather like the idea of you swooping in to save me more often?"

Wanda's expression shifts subtly, her gaze dropping to your lips for a fleeting moment before meeting your eyes again. The look she gives you is charged with meaning. "I could arrange that," she murmurs, her voice taking on a softer, more intimate tone.

The world around you seems to fade into the background, the moment stretching out between you. The usual bustle of the cafe continues, but it feels distant and muted. All you can focus on is Wanda's way the soft lighting plays across her features, the subtle scent of her perfume, and the warmth radiating from her presence. Every tiny detail draws you in deeper.

"so" you suggest, "should we plan our next mission together?" unable to hide the grin forming on your lips.

Wanda raises an eyebrow, the playful glimmer returning. "I like the sound of that." she says with a little smirk "Just us, no distractions" Your heart rate raises at her words "Just don't be surprised if I need saving again" you tease back.

Wanda leans in closer, the distance between you shrinking to almost nothing. Her voice is barely above a whisper when she replies, "I wouldn't dream of it, darling."

**

You and Wanda walked back to Stark Tower as the night fell. Despite Fury's announcement about tomorrow, and how he would personally murder whoever was late to the meeting— Wanda was in no rush. She'd insisted on ice cream, so you both enjoyed the treat while strolling towards the building.

after arriving at the tower, you and Wanda finally reach the floor your room was on, “you sure you can find your way?” Wanda said playful smile on her lips.

“with a guide like you? I’d get lost on purpose” you respond with a smirk, matching her playful tone. Her eyes sparkle a little at that, looking you up and down.

Wanda laughed softly, pulling you back into the elevator and pressing the button for her floor.

“flattery won’t get you everywhere, you know” she chuckles slightly as she steps out of the elevator and leads the way while clutching your hand in hers.

“I mean—” you tease as if you weren’t the one getting flutters in your stomach after touching her hand “—it helps” You give her a slight smirk.

She stops in front of a door, her door. And leans against the wall next to it.

“so what’s your plan? Charm your way through the tower?” she raised an eyebrow, her lingering tone flowing through the empty hallway.

“only to the rooms that matter,” you say, taking a deep breath, “oh yeah?” she said in amusement “What rooms would that be?” she teased. She knew what you meant, but she loved seeing you get all flustered because of her.

“yours is definitely on the list,” you say, closing whatever distance was left between you and her. “oh so there’s a list?” she chuckled in amusement. You couldn’t help but linger your eyes on her lips, you wanted to kiss her so badly.

You look back up, locking eyes with her, and you unconsciously lean forward, as if your body had a mind of its own. Wanda does the same, and your lips finally touch. Your hand slides up in her hair, her hands cup your face and you let out a relief sigh, you were starving for her.

You lean into the kiss, wanting more and more. But Wanda pulled away, You looked at her with a puzzled expression but before you could protest she covered your mouth with her hand and used the other to open the door.

You stumble into the room as Wanda locks the door “You’re such a mess for me” she teases as her lips finally reunite with yours, the lips  which you still couldn’t get enough of. “you know,” she breathes, pulling away from the kiss and locking her eyes with you, “I could read your mind the whole date, right?”

You look at her yet again with a frustrated expression, “What—“ you protest playfully “So you were just playing with me the whole time?” you let out a breath.

“more like teasing you” she chuckles lightly, the soft voice bringing your butterflies back. “you’re an asshole” you scoff, “you know you love me” she responds before leading you to the bedroom.

You sit down on the end of the bed, as Wanda crawls on top of you, not breaking the kiss. You feel hands tugging your shirt upwards, next thing you know it is on the floor along with your Bra.

You let out a frustrated sigh as Wanda pulls away once more. “You need to stop doing that,” She shoots you a teasing smirk and replies innocently, “but I like teasing you”

“shut up” you mumble out in a chuckle as she places kisses along your neck, getting lower. You feel hands sliding down your jeans, “you’re so wet for me, Darling—“ Wanda taunts, looking down at you in amusement, “and I haven’t even done anything yet”

Her hands rub over the soft fabric of your panties, gaining a moan from you which you immediately bite down. “don’t” she says, “I want to hear your voice” she whispers as she continues rubbing, while she sloppily kisses you, the muffled moans echoing in the room.

She takes off your pants, landing kisses down the way to your lower stomach, making you squirm. You try to close your thighs in an attempt to calm your throbbing but Wanda keeps them open.

“Keep your legs open for me, darling” she whispers, her kisses finally reaching your pussy. Causing you to squirm once again, feeling the vibration of her talking through your whole body.

“Wanda~” you moan in desperation. She wasted no time and took your panties off, leaving your pussy bare.

Just when you thought she was finished teasing you, her soft voice broke through the tension. “Say what you want me to do,” she murmured, a playful glint in her eyes.

“What—?” you stammered, caught off guard. The air was thick with anticipation. “tell me what you want me to do to you,” she pressed, her tone dripping with seduction. You could feel your heart racing, each word hanging in the air.

“fuck- just fuck me” Right after you finish the sentence, you feel two fingers shoved in your cunt. You let out a loud moan, caught completely off guard “fucking hell” You mutter out shaking, you could feel Wanda’s tongue making circles around your clit, sucking at it, eating you up, making you arch your back at the feeling.

You almost screamed in pleasure when she inserted the third finger. Your insides clenching around her fingers when she starts hitting the spot. Her tongue not leaving your clit.

Your legs shuddered at the feeling of her tongue against your heat. It almost made you lose consciousness right there due to your neediness.

You were overstimulated, and could barely make up any thoughts in your head. All you could do was moan at the pleasure that was getting too much to bear.

You were so close to cumming, “I’m gonna~” You close your eyes as you groan before Wanda pulled away, leaving you empty, depraved, and wanting more. “Wanda-?” you open your eyes just to see her wiping her lips with her tongue with a smirk, looking at you in amusement. “you’re so cute,” she says, “I was just about to finish” you reply in frustration, out of breath.

She chuckles as her lips reach yours, “but then I wouldn’t get to see your cute, frustrated face” she whispers as she kisses you before you can say anything else. You feel her knee press up against your pussy, making you whimper. Your hands go through her hair pulling her down, depraved for more. Her hand finally falls back down to your pulsating clit, making you flinch at the touch.

It just took a couple of minutes before you were going to cum again, you covered your face out of overstimulation, but that didn’t last long. “that won’t do..” you heard before feeling your hands being tugged, revealing your blushed face. “I want to see your face, darling, don’t hide from me” you hear Wanda’s voice, making you even more close to finishing. “I’m gonna~” you manage to stutter out, “I know, I know” Wanda shushes you, her fingers still rubbing your clit, faster and rougher, while her other fingers enter your cunt.

You let out a whimper before finally cumming, soaking her fingers completely. She slowly pulls them out, bringing them up to her mouth before licking the juice clean.

**

After you two settled into bed, cuddling closely, you felt her hands wrap around your waist. Honestly, you’d never seen her this clingy before, and it made you want to stay in bed with her forever. But Fury, for some reason, thought it was a good idea to schedule a meeting at 8 AM, so you reluctantly got up to prepare to go to sleep.

You leaned down to give her a soft kiss before sitting up. “I’m going to take a shower,” you said, but as you started to move, you felt her tugging you back.

“Why?” she asked, her tone playful.

“To clean up…?” you replied, confused.

“But then you’ll just get dirty again,” she countered, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

“What do you mean?” you questioned, but before you could process her words, she was on top of you again. “You didn’t think we were done, did you?” she teased, her Sokovian accent shining through.

“We can’t—” you stammered, your face burning. “We have a meeting tomorrow—”

“It’s 3 AM,” she said, glancing at the clock before locking her gaze back on yours, eyes sparkling with mischief. “We have time for a few more rounds,” she declared, a smirk dancing on her lips.

You could already feel how soaked your pussy was.

For her.

“A few more..?”

**

Needless to say, you were both late to the meeting, and Fury was not happy. He lectured you both for an hour, at one point you just zoned out, completely ignoring him.

As a ‘punishment,’ he put you on paperwork duty, with Nat. You noticed her reaction when you and Wanda walked in late, her eyes didn’t leave yours for a second, not paying any mind to the meeting. Which is why Fury assigned her with you.

Now, as you sat buried under an avalanche of paperwork, Nat was doing very little to help. Instead, she simply sat across from you, her intense green eyes fixed on your every move as you sorted through the endless files.

Frustration boiled over, and you slammed the file you were holding on the desk. “Nat, you’re seriously freaking me out. Stop staring and come help!” you exclaimed, spinning your chair to face her.

“Why did you two come in late, together?” she shot back, her eyes narrowing as she waited for an answer.

You knew you couldn’t lie to her, so you didn’t even try. “We.. went out yesterday…” you muttered, the words heavy in the air. Nat raised her eyebrows, clearly unimpressed. “Still doesn’t answer my question.”

“I may have stayed over at her place,” you confessed, taking a deep breath as you felt the tension between you two thicken. “Now—can you come help me?”

Nat’s gaze didn’t waver, a mix of frustration and something else swirling in her expression. “You think that’s enough to make me help?” she challenged, a smirk teasing at the corners of her lips.

“Are you really going to make this harder?” you replied, heart racing under her scrutiny.

“Maybe I want to see just how far you’re willing to go,” she said, leaning back in her chair, a provocative glint in her eyes.

“Are you seriously going to make me beg?” you frown, and that earns you a faint smile from her.

“Maybe I will,” Nat replies, crossing her arms, a teasing glint in her eye.

“Please,” you say, putting on your best pleading expression. Her eyes light up with mischief.

“Hmmm… again,” she replies with a smirk, clearly enjoying this.

“Seriously?” you ask, exasperation creeping into your voice, but she just stays put, unwavering. With a resigned sigh, you try again. “Please, Tash.”

“Fine,” she finally relents, sitting up with a satisfied smirk. She walks towards you, the tension in the air thickening as she closes the distance between you.

“Now, let’s see what you’ve got,” she says, leaning over your shoulder to inspect the paperwork. You can feel her warmth radiating off her, sending a shiver down your spine. “You really thought you could handle this without me?”

“Well, I could have. Faster than you I’m sure, but you were distracting me” you respond with a playful scoff before sinking back into your chair.

You let out a small gasp when you feel Nat turning your chair around to face her. She is leaning over you, her hands on the armrest. With her hair cascading down her shoulders, she leaned closer. “was that a challenge?” she raised an eyebrow, her breath close to your ear.

“what are you suggesting” you ask, daring to meet her gaze. “let’s say i have an idea to make things.. more interesting” her voice full of mischief. “whoever has the least amount of paperwork left, until— let’s say” she glances at her watch, “5pm, wins.” she adds, “if you win, i’ll finish the rest of our paperwork” she says with a smirk.

“What if you win?” you ask, a hint of curiosity in your voice.

Natasha leans back slightly, a playful glint still in her eyes. “If I win, you go on a date with me, and— ofcourse finish the rest of the paperwork.”

Her boldness catches you off guard, but, honestly, what else were you expecting from her? you were planning to go on a date with her anyways.

“Fine, that seems fair,” you reply, though you quickly add, “but no distracting each other and no cheating!”

She shoots you a mischievous grin “no promises” she says, before heading back to her desk, flipping open the first file.

You spin your chair around, heart racing, and do the same, the challenge igniting a competitive spark between you.

**

the clock was ticking, it was 4:55, Nat had a little under 10 files left, and you were already on your last one. you glance over at her, but she seemed calm, which made you even more nervous than you already were.

you closed the last file with a satisfied grin, “i win, there’s only two minutes left. give up already tash” you say with a grin, but before you can even lean back in your chair the door opens and Fury’s assistant comes in with a handful of more paperwork, placing it on your desk, “Mr.Fury told me that he needs these done by tomorrow morning.” she says, looking at you.

**

You were completely dumbfounded. “What—no,” you stammer, but the assistant had already slipped out the door. Natasha stood up from her chair, that infuriating smirk dancing on her lips as she leaned casually against your desk. “What were you saying, love?” she teased, her eyes sparkling with mischief. your ears flushed, hearing her call you ‘love’ was doing something to you.

You glanced at the clock. 5 PM.

“fuck me..” you mutter, pinching the bridge of your nose in exasperation.

“That’s the plan,” you hear her say, a satisfied chuckle escaping her.

“You did this, didn’t you?” you ask, narrowing your gaze as you look up at her.

“Me? I would never!” she retorts, her tone dripping with sarcasm as she pretends to be offended.

“Not fair, Tash. So not fair,” you frown, already accepting your defeat.

**

Before you could get any more work in, Natasha had already dragged you away after convincing you, that you would finish them later tonight, but something told you you wouldn’t be getting any work done.

You were sitting in her car, you weren’t sure where Nat would take you out on a first date. In a restaurant? that’s just not her, at least not on the first date. The Movies? that would be too boring.

“We’re here, love” her voice pulls you right out of your thoughts, the word love leaving you red. “why do you keep calling me love?” you ask, opening the car door. “I like how you get flushed everytime” she smirks in amusement.

You roll your eyes, “where are we?” you finally ask, looking around. “heard you liked shooting” she says with a smile as she leads you in a door, her hand on your waist.

You step into a vibrant field, where a selection of paintball markers is laid out on a workbench, accompanied by a pile of paintballs nearby.

Turning back to Natasha, practically bouncing with excitement, you exclaim, “No way!” A playful grin spreads across your face as you tease, “Ooh, you’re so done!” With that, you quickly grab one of the markers and load it with a handful of paintballs.

Natasha chuckles, her smile brightening as she watches you. “You sure about that, love?” she asks, picking up her own marker and some paintballs.

“Oh, I’m absolutely sure! You’ll pay for cheating your way through this date, Tash.” An assistant offers you body armor, but you wave it off. “Ooh, playing tough?” Natasha taunts, mirroring your refusal.

The guy behind the counter clears his throat. “Alright, it’s just the two of you ladies. The rules are simple: no head shots, one shot is enough to win, but feel free to keep playing as long as you like. Stay in bounds, and most importantly, have fun!” His explanation fades into the background as you find yourself captivated by Natasha—her hair tied back, that mischievous grin on her face, the very one you swore you disliked.

“—when I start counting, run and hide. On the count of three, the game begins,” he continues, snapping you back to reality.

“One!” You and Natasha dart in opposite directions.

“Two!” You quickly hide behind a wooden wall.

“And three!” The game starts.

In an instant, you’re on the move, quietly circling around to the side where Natasha ran. This is exactly what you thought a date with Nat was going to be.

**

After playing for a while, Natasha won, but you managed to land few shots as well. By the time you were done, the darkness had settled around you, and you were both covered in paint, laughter echoing in the night as you walked back to her car.

“I was so close to winning, though!” you exclaim, frustration bubbling to the surface.

“Sure you were,” Nat chuckles, opening the car door for you before sliding in beside you.

“No, but really! You just snuck up on me out of nowhere. Before that, I had the upper hand,” you insist, crossing your arms and turning to face her, a playful challenge in your eyes.

“Hmm,” she hums, locking her gaze onto yours, her expression turning serious as the air thickens with unspoken tension.

Then, she leans in, so close that you can feel the warmth radiating from her, your heart racing in anticipation. Just as you think she’s about to kiss you, she pulls away with a teasing smirk, leaving you breathless and wanting more.

“Not fair, Tash,” you say, trying to mask your disappointment, but the spark between you only intensifies.

Halfway through the car ride, it hits you. “Shit…” you sigh, sinking back into your seat. “I’ve got paperwork to finish.” The thought of working feels exhausting, especially after the fun you just had.

“I’ll help you out, love,” Nat offers, her voice soft and inviting. “It’s my fault you ended up with that much anyway.” She giggles, and the sound brings an involuntary smile to your lips.

God, you wanted to kiss her so badly. You quickly glance in her direction, meeting her gaze that sends your heart racing. First Wanda, now Natasha? Taking both of them out was supposed to help you figure things out, but instead, it only made everything more complicated.

“Really, you don’t have to,” you say, trying to sound casual, but the tension in the air hangs thick between you.

“Oh, but I want to,” she replies, her gaze steady and intent. The way she looks at you makes it hard to focus on anything else. It’s a challenge, an invitation.

You want to push her away and avoid the feelings, but instead, you find yourself leaning in slightly, drawn to her warmth. “You make it hard to concentrate,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Good,” she replies, a playful smile tugging at her lips. “I like it that way.”

The tension simmers between you, leaving you both caught in a moment that feels electric, as if one wrong move could change everything.

**

You went back up to an empty office, everyone had clocked out, but you and Nat had to sit here and work.

You sigh as you plop down on your seat, “you know, we could have much more fun than just work, you know” she says, slowly walking towards you, turning around your chair, “you really like doing that, don’t you?” you chuckle, keeping your eyes locked on to hers.

“what kind of fun are we talking about, exactly?” you ask. of course you knew what she meant, but you wanted her to say it. you feel your pussy getting wetter and wetter, desperate for attention, throbbing for her.

“you know what i mean” she says, not breaking eye contact. “say it”

“oh, you don’t want to play that game, Love. trust me” she says in amusement. her calling you love was all you needed before you couldn’t hold it in anymore, you squeezed your legs shut, hoping to satisfy the urge down there.

Natasha notices that and forces your legs open with her knee. you look down at her knee before you feel a hand on your chin, making you look back up, “eyes on me, Love” she demands.

You feel your throbbing pussy, all you wanted to do was reach your hand down and— before you could, Nat grabbed both of your hands, gently, before grabbing a rope from a drawer and tying them behind your back.

Her knee going right back to keeping your legs open. “Nat. c’mon, please” you groan out, looking down at your now tied up hands—“nuh-uh, i said eyes on me.” You immediately look back at her.

that just made you even more wet, you could feel how soaked your panties were getting. you just wanted her—no, needed her to touch you. to completely destroy you.

“please~ just-“ you whimper out,

“look how much of a mess you are.” she looked at you in amusement, sliding her hand from your chest, down to your pants, “all for me.”

She kneels and pulls down your pants, revealing your completely soaked panties, before throwing them on the floor along with your pants.

“if you wanted me this badly, you should have told me, Love” she says, spreading your lips apart, causing a moan to escape your lips. “just stop- teasing, Tash” you breathe out.

“Where’s the fun in that, though?” she asks in the most innocent voice possible. as if she’s not in between your legs right now.

her tongue rubbing over your sore clit, then sliding down and into your cunt. you whimper as she increases the speed.

then she suddenly picks you up from the chair, and sits you down on the desk. her lips now on yours, sloppily kissing you before sliding back down, landing kisses along the way, before reaching your cunt once again.

but this time she doesn’t wait. she starts eating you out right away. her index and middle finger rubbing over your clit. “fuck.. oh fuck” you moan, not able to hold back anymore.

“Nat- slow~ah slow down” you finally stammer out. “at-at least untie my hands” you say, out of breath. it’s as if she’s lost, she doesn’t respond to anything. It doesn’t take long before you get the sensation, “i’m~ i’m gonna cum” you whimper out, as Natasha speeds up, the room filled up with your moans, you were hoping nobody else was staying overtime right now.

You groan out of pleasure, as you finally cum.

Nat gets up with a satisfied look. “Now, untie me, please” you point at your hands with your head, “i gotta finish this work”

“Oh, we’re nowhere near done, love,” she says, gently caressing your face.

“What? Natasha—no,” you stammer, still feeling a bit overstimulated and confused by the moment.

“but sure, i’ll untie you” she says completely ignoring you, as she grabs scissors and cuts the rope open. “Nat, i have way too much work due tomorrow morning, we really can’t” you start explaining, and attempt to jump down from the table, but she catches you and sits you back down.

“we have time for one more round” Her lips find their way to yours, that was all you needed, all your pussy needed to become even more desperate for Natasha.

“fine, make it quick” you moan out through the kiss, “oh, i don’t do quick, Love” she smirks, before pulling away. she opens the bottom drawer of your table, and pulls out something very familiar to you, a Purple vibrator. “what- how’d you even know that was there-?” you ask covering your face with your hands out of embarrassment.

“you really think i wouldn’t notice?” she chuckled. “my desk is right in-front of yours”

“let’s see how well this actually works” she smirked and looked at you before turning the Vibrator on, immediately putting it on your Clit, causing you to flinch. “fucking hell..” you groan out.

she grabs you by the chin and pulls you into a kiss, while she slowly turns up the amplitude, testing how long you’d last without breaking the kiss.

Soon after you pull away, taking a deep breath. “seems to be working well” she states, “what do you think, love?” she asks before turning up the amplitude even more, she knew what she was doing, she enjoyed seeing you be a mess, just for her.

you whimper out in pleasure, unable to answer her. “i asked you a question, it’s not polite to ignore me, love” she said before turning the vibrator off. you look up in frustration, “god you really enjoy doing that, don’t you?”

“i asked a question” she responded with a smirk. “it works wonders, now please turn it back on” you say it in a hurry,

"Since you asked so nicely," she said, her voice low and inviting as she leaned closer, her breath warm against your skin.

As she closed the distance, her lips brushed against yours, tentative at first, like a feather grazing your skin. The gentle touch sent a shiver down your spine, then she turned more rough and out of nowhere, without a warning she turns the vibrator to the highest amplitude. making you scream both out of pleasure and surprise.

it didn’t take long for you to cum after that, she knew exactly which parts she needed to touch to make you feel good.

it was 2am after you finished. she cleaned you up, softly rubbing wipes over the places she left hickeys. giving you soft kisses along the way, as if she didn’t just make you levitate up to heaven out of pleasure.

you sat down to finish the work, but you fell asleep, not even the two cups of coffee you chugged were any help at all.

Nat carried you to your room and finished the rest of the paperwork herself.

[honeytonedhottie]

maintaining/creating a social life⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🧁

ok so i used to have HORRIBLE social anxiety and i think that the contrast between me with social anxiety and me now is INSANE. in a good way ofc. so im not going to talk about how i overcame social anxiety, instead im going to talk about how i created a social life ✨

MAKING FRIENDS ;

the science of making friends is simple and im about to explain it. so go to where there are ppl that u can relate to/want to relate to. example being school, clubs, etc.

next, observe who u want to befriend and make sure to start with a compliment. starting off by introducing urself just makes for an awkward conversation but starting with a compliment puts u and the other party at ease.

something thats rly important is ur CHARISMA and ur magnetic energy so be CHARMING ✨ if u find that the other party is not reciprocating its either they're uncomfy, uninterested, or just a weirdo. and in all cases, you should stop.

MAKING FRIENDS THRU FRIENDS ;

make friends with your friends friends -> make friends with their friends -> and so on and so forth. this is how you network and create a friendly status with lots of people.

if ur in a school setting like i am, make friends with people in ur own grade or in a higher up grade, i dont usually make friends with ppl in lower grades but ofc there are always exceptions.

making friends through friends is how u get invited to parties, have more opportunities be available to you, and ofc network for more connections. guys connections are literally EVERYTHING.

MAKE TIME FOR UR FRIENDS ;

make sure to learn who u call friends. when is their birthday? do they have specific preferences? what kind of music do they listen to? knowing ur friends makes them feel special and thats how u learn to be a good friend. i can make a whole POST about being a good friend cuz i've learned and grown so much with that.

THE POWER OF A COMPLIMENT ;

make it ur mission to give a compliment everyday cuz first off, being nice is HOT so pls be nice and second of all, if ur trying to talk to someone and u start with a compliment i promise that it'll go so much better.

if ur thinking "thats so awkward how will i do that" then the category dont be shy is one that u gotta read cuz girl 💀. if u need an example i'll provide one from my own experience so u can see the power of a compliment.

there was this girl in my spanish class and i always thought that she was so pretty and she seemed so nice. one day we bump into each other in the bathroom and i compliment her hair and makeup, she responds well. we continue to have friendly interactions throughout the rest of the school year and now we are good friends on and off campus.

DONT BE SHY ;

when u make friends please please PLEASE work on ur confidence first. you need to be SURE of yourself. if not, when ur being friendly it could come off as desperation and ppl will humiliate, make fun of and take advantage of u. and thats NOT hot.

be CONFIDENT, you literally have nothing to lose. when u shed ur shyness (thru things like exposure therapy etc) a whole new world is opened up for u bcuz sometimes the only thing holding u back is urself and ur limiting beliefs about urself.

MAKE UR PERSONALITY SHINE ;

make sure that know ur own personality and from knowing that u can find ways in which u can make it shine. no matter what ur personality is though, something that i cannot stress enough is BE NICE.

be friendly and amicable with everyone and stay out of drama and if drama comes to you then stay unbothered 😭. dont try and uproot ur own personality to copy someone else's.

[rosenotactuallyquartz]

amethyst & rose

(an analysis on their dynamic)

amethyst & rose have a very fascinating dynamic. amethyst looked up to rose, believing that she made everything better. the feeling was mutual. they never quite knew just how alike they were, but they inspired each other nonetheless.

"rose said i'm perfect the way i am!" — amethyst, crack the whip

“one very important relationship is amethyst with rose, because amethyst is what rose wished she could be." — steven universe podcast, volume 3, episode 1

from the beginning, rose felt a connection to amethyst. there were little pieces of rose’s soul in everyone she loved. from there, she wanted to give them the environment that she never had in her early years.

for example, rose perceived greg as the human version of herself in a lot of ways. their minds worked the same way. garnet & rose connected as gems who shared similar beliefs, and they bonded over their experiences related to love & interpersonal connections—the beauty they saw in things that were considered wrong in the eyes of homeworld’s society. as for pearl… she contrasted rose in many ways, and that made their connection meaningful in its own way, as partners. still, when it came to emotions, they were similar (i.e., how they felt when they wanted to protect something or someone, how they loved, etc. in general, they also felt everything very strongly, so strongly that it hurt them). rose was deeply inspired by her loved ones & often admired the traits & skills that she didn’t share with them. however, the similarities between rose & her loved ones likely played a role in what she wanted to do for them. she wanted everyone to have the environment she never had on homeworld. while there were no rules & freedom for all the crystal gems to be who they are (among other things), rose was very extreme, as sugar states.

"the thing that she really lacks is balance, any ability to temper her extremes. this is part of her character throughout her forms: she's always very extreme." — rebecca sugar, end of an era

“[amethyst] was sheltered from knowing the full truth of her origin & therefore she was not free to build on that aspect of her identity. both the advantages of freedom & the disadvantages of lack of structure manifested in her." — steven universe podcast, volume two, ep two

nevertheless, the way rose revered & loved everyone around her was incredibly sincere & intense. her guilt, self-hatred, & lack of self-acceptance made it hard for her to feel empathy for herself. at the same time, she gave so much care, love, & acceptance to all these little pieces of herself. she never realized just how similar she was to those she loved because she often hid things. to amethyst, rose had all the answers, and every day with her was relaxing, fun, and she felt loved. rose was older than her, the nurturing mom friend who (as amethyst said herself) made everything better. at the same time, it was hard for amethyst to fully understand rose's choices and she never saw a lot of her vulnerabilities.

amethyst & rose were so incredibly similar, & they had no idea just how much they had in common. still, they both knew they were similar. both are playful & young-at-heart. both feel emotions deeply, but they cope with their intensity by trying to make things lighthearted.

they share a sense of wonder that makes them see beauty in the most unusual and odd things—moss, random foods. they probably both brought back the most ridiculous things from missions, much to pearl's dismay.

while rose kept secrets, she also did everything in her power to shield amethyst from anything that might hurt her. because here’s something that pearl + rose have in common: they both want to help so much that it hurts them. they want to prevent harm, to protect those they love & see as precious, but they can’t control everything, & that causes a lot of pain.

"i'm not supposed to be small. and everyone's always acting like there's no problem. you can be anything you want to be. no! i can't. i can't even be the one thing i'm supposed to be, you know?" — amethyst, steven versus amethyst

“rose teaches amethyst: you can be anything you want to be! huge advocate of shapeshifting, self-expression, anarchy—however, amethyst can sense shame from rose and pearl over the kindergarten.” — rebecca sugar, end of an era

literally & figuratively, amethyst and rose both felt smaller compared to the other quartzes and diamonds, respectively. though their situations were different—rose coming from homeworld, & amethyst learning about it later—other quartzes made amethyst feel insecure, powerless, & "wrong," much like rose felt as a diamond. despite this, they both became crystal gems, rebels choosing to be their own individuals, knowing they don’t have to follow homeworld’s rules about their gem’s purpose. they both love living on earth.

"what? you mean about the bad thing? how this bad place is where bad gems came to grow more bad gems? is that what you're talking about?" — amethyst, on the run

"rose's message began to resonate, to pink diamond's dismay. her colony was falling apart. so, like a coward, she called for her diamond allies, yellow & blue, to help." — garnet, your mother and mine

their beliefs also made them ashamed when they looked at their gems. rose, though she became her own person and acted as if the past never happened, still remembered being a diamond.

"i never asked for it to be this way. i never asked to be made!" — amethyst, on the run

"[rose] couldn't stand herself; self-destruction is a huge theme throughout the show—the struggle of the feeling that you shouldn't exist, & what that can do to a person. a lot of the themes of the show exist within rose." — rebecca sugar, end of an era

knowing everything that the diamonds did fueled her self blame & only worsened her feeling that she shouldn’t exist. amethyst feels similarly, and while she became her own person and those around her acted like the kindergarten never happened, she felt like a “big mistake.”

"i’m not going to let you stand there & remind me of everything i hate about myself!" — amethyst, on the run

"[rose] reveres them instead, because they are better than she could ever be, & that reverence is so honest & intoxicating that it draws everyone closer to her, without them understanding the deep self-hatred that pull is coming from." — end of an era, page 88

for a variety of reasons, they both struggle with low self esteem. pink felt insecure around diamonds on homeworld & amethyst felt insecure around quartzes on homeworld, making them feel smaller not just physically but emotionally. they often felt like they needed to change themselves to fit in. they also struggle with the feeling that their closest loved ones are better than them, although the reasons may look a bit different. amethyst knows that garnet, rose, & pearl fought in the war and aren’t from the kindergarten, while rose also feels guilt about where she’s from and feels weak & “bad” compared to the others.

“amethyst finally understands rose... wanting her to shapeshift... not feel obligated to be a quartz... suddenly feels sympathy... kinship. it wasn’t amethyst being inspired by rose. rose was inspired by them!” — end of an era

“the truth is that the people in her life would be so much more understanding than she believes they will be.” — end of an era

“i know you feel bad! believe me, i get it! sometimes it feels like you're never gonna like yourself but it's possible, man!” — amethyst, i am my monster

whenever people ask me what rose needed to do in order to heal, my answer is long & complicated. but i will say, i always include connie’s quote from mindful education. “you have to be honest about how bad it feels so that you can move on!” rose needed to be honest & vulnerable with her loved ones. this includes conversations about the past that she was ashamed of. this is why i never joined the fans who say pearl’s reaction to finding out rose kept secrets from even her was inherently wrong or harmful to rose, as a partner.

i always wished we saw more scenes of rose & amethyst. their dynamic is fascinating, & if rose could see amethyst by the timeline of future, she would understand just how much she could relate to her. opening up was difficult for rose, & for a good reason. revealing secrets she was ashamed of, taking accountability, & apologizing for things would always result in abandonment (isolation) or physical & emotional pain (punishments) during her early life on homeworld, with no positives in the end. hiding must have felt like a necessity for survival, & her fear of being caught by the diamonds worsened her anxiety, making her feel used to always hiding. nevertheless, rose really did contribute to a safe environment for amethyst’s early years & i think that’s incredible.

despite the tragic parts, amethyst & rose had a dynamic that was both close & meaningful. amethyst loved the life she had with rose, & now, she completely understands rose’s actions & everything rose did for her. as for rose, she loved someone who she knew well enough to be able to relate to, on some level. seeing their similarities, even the ones that are as simple as personalities, probably helped rose love herself a bit more.

[dimplyowl]

Okay has anyone written any meta about the differences between our two first mates, Auntie and Izzy? Because I just finished rewatching s2 and was struck by how similar their situations are, and their temperaments, and yet how very completely opposite they behave in nearly identical situations.

Cause like. Both their captains are insanely infamous, badass pirates who have an image to uphold, Ed as Blackbeard obviously, and Zheng as the pirate queen who conquered China. They both become romantically interested in someone who honestly has no business being a pirate: oluwande and Stede, both described as soft, not masculine, yes in the end willing to do violence if necessary, but it’s not their preferred way of handling conflict. People who, maybe rightly, the respective first mates consider potential threats to their captain and crew.

But just the way that auntie handles the situation compared to Izzy. Auntie doesn’t meddle. She is vocal about what she thinks of Oluwande, about her concerns about Zheng being distracted, “compromised”, not focused on the mission. But she’s ultimately acting as an advisor for Zheng, which is exactly what her role is. She doesn’t try to control Zheng, she doesn’t remove Zheng’s agency, she doesn’t threaten Zheng or tell her that she’s pathetic for mooning over Oluwande (I know we never get to see any mooning onscreen but cmon, there has to have been some). When the Revenge crew escapes her ship, and she knows she fucked up, Auntie doesn’t run salt in the wound the way that Izzy would take pleasure in doing. She starts to say “I told you so,” and Zheng very firmly tells her “Don’t”, establishes a boundary that Auntie respects, because ultimately Zheng knows she fucked up and she’s not a child who needs to be taught a lesson or managed. Auntie respects her and her personhood.

And compare that to Izzy, who consistently manipulated Ed to get in between him and Stede, threatened Stede’s life on multiple occasions, essentially mutinied against him, sent the cops after them, and then berated and threatened Ed over being heartbroken.

Like, even down to nearly dying. Auntie has a severe gunshot wound in her shoulder that she will clearly die from if she doesn’t accept help. She’s spent the entire season being tough, unwilling to show weakness, equating softness to weakness, but in the end she decides to accept help, to accept a little bit of softness, to change and accept that softness can be good. Izzy in contrast, declines help, knowing that he’s done. He knows he can’t fit in to this new world, this new piracy, where people can be soft and vulnerable and still fucking kick ass. He’s been resistant and outwardly aggressive to this idea, and he chooses to die rather than accept that softness. Ofmd is ushering in a new era of pirating, and Izzy doesn’t fit in it, and doesn’t want to fit in it, and ultimately, narratively, that’s why Auntie survives and Izzy doesn’t.

[romanticintheory]

Can you do something fluffy and domestic with Price. Like maybe him trying to ask civilian reader out on a date, and everything is just going against him. (He eventually does get to ask her whether or not it was how he planned it.)

john wants to ask his favorite waiter/waitress out on a date, but the universe seems to have other plans for him.

john price x gn!reader

part 2

fluff, john trying his best, domesticity

a/n: ty for the request!! you’re my first one so i hope you like it <3 also, let’s just pretend like the timeline of this fic makes sense :)

-

Oh, this poor man was hopeless from the start. He had been interested in you for a while and was finding the courage within himself to finally ask you out. He felt silly about the ache in his chest whenever he thought about what your response might be. He just wanted to do right by you was all. So, when he was finally out of his latest mission and allowed to take a break, he was determined to pop the question to you.

The plan was to stop by the flower shop and buy a simple bouquet for you, but when he found himself in front of the store it had been closed. “Family Emergency. Will be back next week.” He didn’t have a week.

Okay, so, no flowers. It was disappointing, to say the least, but he could make do. 

You were nearing the end of your shift when your coworker, Missy, tapped you on the shoulder. As you turned away from the table you were cleaning, she leaned down and whispered in your ear, “There’s that hot man here, again. He’s asking for you, dear.”

She ended her news with a knowing wink. Looking past her shoulder, you could clearly see John sitting at a table with a menu in his hands. Your cheeks flushed at Missy’s insinuation.

“Thanks,” you managed to choke out, hoping she didn’t notice how flustered you were.

“Of course. That’s the second time, just so you know,” she reminded teasingly, nudging you with her elbow encouragingly before leaving to go attend to her own tables.

Out of the three times John had been to your restaurant (including this one), he spent the last two specifically requesting your presence. Though you tried not to think much of it, you couldn’t ignore the way it made your heart flutter.

Straightening your uniform, you made your way to his table with a genuine smile—a stark contrast to the fake one you give to other customers just for the sake of work. John pretended like he wasn’t secretly watching you in the periphery of his vision and looked up at you once you found your way to him.

“It’s nice to see you again,” you beamed.

“‘S nice to see you too,” he replied, unable to keep that lovestruck smile off his face. “How have you been, sweetheart?”

You laughed softly, “I’ve been alright. You know, just the same old. How about you, John?”

“I’m afraid it’s been the same for me. Just got off a mission.” Not once did his eyes leave yours. It was almost intimidating, the way he was so dedicated to giving you his full attention.

“Really? You’ll have to tell me about it sometime,” you said hopefully.

It was the perfect opportunity for him. All he had to say was, ”Actually, I was wondering if you’d like to go out with me sometime,” and he almost pulled it off.

“Actually, I—”

Ring, ring, ring, ring.

Internally cursing himself, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and saw the contact Laswell flashing on his screen. Usually, when she called, it was something worth hearing. He looked up at you apologetically, but you just smiled and waved your hand at him to let him know it was okay.

Standing up, he answered Kate’s call and pressed his phone between his ear and his shoulder. You couldn’t hear much of what the other person was saying. It was mostly just John nodding his head, saying a quick “yes” or “no,” or mentioning what you assumed were his colleagues' names.

Gathering his things, he turned to you and gave an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, but I have to leave, right now. I apologize for wasting your time like this.”

“Oh, no, don’t worry! It’s nice to have seen you anyway, and I’m glad you’re doing well. I don’t mind, honestly,” you reassured him, secretly disappointed at the fact that his visit was so short-lived.

Clearing his throat, he asked, “If it's not too out of line, may I ask when you get off work?”

Throwing all caution to the wind, you quickly answered, “At about ten thirty.”

“Ten thirty, all right,” he said (more so to himself than you). “Have a good rest of your shift, sweetheart.”

“Thank you, I hope all is well at work,” you nodded, watching as his eyes lingered on your for a moment before he left for the door.

The entire time he was back at work the thought of you sat in the back of his mind. Honestly, he couldn’t even remember why he was there. Something about an important lead? Or maybe a new contact? Honestly, his head was in the clouds.

Even though you didn’t know he was going to ask you out, he still felt guilty for not being able to pop the question to you. As soon as he left the meeting, he was out the door. It was already ten, and it took about twenty-five minutes to get to the restaurant. He silently cursed himself for the second time that day, still determined to get in his car and see if, by some miracle, he could catch you.

He had imagined himself in the exact opposite situation he was currently in. He had wanted to be out of uniform in something more presentable and approachable, being able to spend his time with you without any interruptions. Now, he was having to rush his pace with his uniform on as he attempted to make up for his first failed attempt at asking you out. He didn’t want to be the captain with you, just John Price. 

Peeking into the front door of the now-closed restaurant, he scanned the few workers left inside to see if any of them were you only to be met with disappointment. His frustrated grew ten-fold as he turned away from the door, making his way back to his car.

Just as he was about to hop in, you were exiting the side door with your uniform in hand.

“John?” you called out, stopping just a few feet away from him. You almost didn’t recognize him with the way he was dressed (not that you were complaining).

He whirled around instantly at the sound of your voice. “(Y/n),” he started. “I almost thought I missed you.” You smiled. “No, one of my coworkers needed help with something so I stayed behind just a little bit.” “How kind of you. Most would leave as soon as they were able,” he praised, shutting his car door behind him.

“She’s always been kind to me. I figured the least I could do is repay her.” You paused. “So, uh, what brings you back here so late?”

You.

“Well, I was just…” Why was he nervous? He had asked out plenty of people before (though none quite like you). For Christ’s sake, he was a disciplined soldier capable of incredible feats without breaking a single sweat. He’s faced dangerous criminals with a calm face and a stable mind, but with you, oh, it was like everything he ever learned went out the window.

You waited expectantly with bated breath.

“Well, I was actually wondering if you would want to go out with me sometime. Anywhere you like,” he finally managed. “‘Course, feel free to say no. I promise I won’t be hurt.”

He’s lying, of course, but you didn’t need to know that.

Your face lit up at his question, answering with an immediate, “Yes, I’d love to!”

Finally, finally, he could release the breath he was holding. His shoulders visibly relaxed, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he grinned at your response.

“How do you feel about movie and a dinner?”

Maybe it didn't go exactly as he'd planned, but at least you said yes, right?

[deliciousangelfestival]

He's The Sweetest

Summary: After discovering his secret and coming to terms with it, she faces an even bigger challenge—dealing with her family.

Main Masterlist || If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee on Ko-fi 🙏🏻

Author Note : This is a second part of He's The Killer

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

Bucky sat in a dimly lit office, the tension thick as he faced his boss, Jake, who sat behind the desk. The room felt cold, sterile, just like the life he’d been living for years. Jake leaned back in his chair, his expression unreadable as Bucky’s voice cut through the silence

“Accept my resignation,” Bucky said firmly.

Jake raised an eyebrow, clearly not pleased. “It’s difficult to let you go. I’m serious.”

As if on cue, Bucky’s phone buzzed. He glanced down, his hardened expression softening ever so slightly as he read the message.

You: “Can Alpine stay at my place today? I have another panda toy for her.”

Bucky stared at the screen for a moment, the corners of his lips tugging upwards. He quickly replied, his thumb hovering awkwardly over the heart emoji before hitting send.

Bucky: “Of course. 💕”

He chuckled to himself—never in his life had he thought he’d use that emoji. But this was the first time you had offered to bring Alpine, his beloved cat, to your place. Why? A small knot of concern twisted in his chest.

His lighthearted moment shattered as he tapped into his surveillance feed from the secret lair in his apartment. His eyes widened. “Shit,” he muttered under his breath.

On the screen, he saw you standing in front of his hidden room, eyes wide with shock. His heart dropped. This was why he needed his retirement approved—quickly.

Taking a deep breath, his mind racing. His entire life had been a bleak mix of exhaustion, bitterness, and emptiness. He’d been a hitman for so long, it had swallowed him whole. The thrill, the violence—it used to be all he knew.

But that had started to change the day he found that baby panda.

It was during one of his missions—his target had been involved in the black market and owned a panda as a pet. Bucky remembered seeing the fluffy little creature, terrified and out of place, and for the first time in a long time, something had stirred in him.

He’d cradled the baby panda in his arms, its softness grounding him in a way nothing else had. He couldn’t leave it behind. After eliminating the target, he made sure the panda was sent to a sanctuary where it could be safe. That same panda had grown and was eventually sent to the zoo where it could be with others of its kind.

Since then, pandas had become more than just animals to him. They represented innocence, something he hadn’t felt in years. It had started with that baby panda and, unexpectedly, it had continued with you.

Meeting you had been a complete surprise. You were the first stranger who had ever willingly helped him. That day at the zoo, when you’d offered him your umbrella in the pouring rain—it wasn’t just an act of kindness, it was something more. You worked as a nurse, saving lives, the complete opposite of what he did. That contrast between your worlds fascinated him.

And now, you’d found his secret.

Jake’s voice pulled him from his thoughts. “You’re really not changing your mind, huh?” Jake said, leaning forward, his hands resting on the desk.

He started typing, his fingers flying across the keyboard. After a few moments, he pointed at the screen. “Here. Done. Everything’s erased.”

Bucky glanced at the screen, relief flooding him. "I’ll return the weapons," he added.

Jake shook his head with a dry laugh. “Keep 'em.”

“No,” Bucky replied, shaking his head, especially after the look of shock he’d seen on your face. “I’m done.”

Jake studied him for a long moment, leaning back in his chair again, arms crossed. “You’ve changed, man.”

Bucky nodded, his expression serious. “I’ve decided to change.”

With a low whistle, Jake stood and offered his hand. “Well, congrats. You’ve graduated from an ice block into a normal human being.”

Bucky couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at his lips as he shook Jake’s hand.

Jake handed him a letter. “Here. With this, you can work as a contractor anywhere you want. Consider it a gift.”

Bucky took the letter, folding it neatly. “Thanks, Jake.”

With a final nod, Bucky turned to leave, his hand on the door. “Goodbye.”

“See you around, Barnes,” Jake called after him, his tone softer now.

Bucky walked out of the office, his mind already on you, on what you’d seen—and on how he was going to explain his life, his past, and everything he wanted to leave behind for you.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

Bucky made his way to your place, noticing how quiet the street was as he walked up to your building. When he reached your door, it seemed like no one was home. He frowned, but just as he was about to knock, your neighbor, the sweet elderly woman from down the hall, spotted him.

“Ah, James! How are you, dear?” she called out warmly, shuffling over with a small box in her hands. “Could you give this to your girlfriend? I made her a lemon cake. I heard she’s home.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow. ‘So, you’re home?’ he thought, glancing back at your door. “Oh, thanks, Gladys,” he replied, accepting the box. “I’ll make sure she gets it.”

The woman smiled, patting his arm. “Thanks to her for helping with my hip pain. She's a blessing.”

He nodded, offering her a kind smile. “Glad to help. Enjoy the rest of your day.”

Turning back to your door, Bucky knocked softly, his heart pounding. “Y/N? Gladys made you a cake.”

There was silence for a moment before he heard soft footsteps approaching the door. It cracked open just slightly, and through the small gap, he could see you, holding Alpine in your arms. Your face was hesitant, guarded.

Bucky immediately sensed your fear. He felt a knot tighten in his chest, knowing he was the reason for it.

“Hi,” he said softly, his voice low, trying to reassure you.

You didn’t reply right away, just staring at him with uncertainty.

“Can I come in?” Bucky asked gently, his hand still holding the box of cake. “I’ll tell you everything you want to know.”

You hesitated for a moment longer, but then, with a small nod, you opened the door wider, stepping back to let him inside. You didn’t speak, still standing a few feet away from him, clutching Alpine to your chest as if she were a shield.

Bucky took a deep breath, setting the cake down on the counter. He turned to face you, his eyes soft but serious. “I know what you found,” he began. “The weapons, the surveillance… I need to explain.”

You stayed quiet, watching him closely, your grip on Alpine tightening.

“I used to be a hitman,” Bucky admitted, his voice steady. “For years, that’s what I did. I was… good at it. But it made my life empty, and I became someone I didn’t even recognize anymore.”

"Two years ago, I got hurt badly. I almost died." He paused, reflecting on the memory. "It was a miracle. Because a nurse didn't give up on saving me."

Your eyes widened slightly at the confirmation, but you didn’t move, just listening.

“After that, I didn’t want that life anymore. Even before I met you, I’d already started planning to retire,” Bucky continued, taking a step closer to you. “Meeting you… it just made me want to hurry up and leave it all behind. You were the first person who made me think I could actually be someone else.”

You shifted slightly, lowering your gaze to the floor for a moment, processing everything he was telling you.

“I get if you don’t want anything to do with me after this,” Bucky said quietly. “But I’m not that man anymore. I don’t want to be.”

There was a long pause before you finally spoke. “So… you’re retired now?”

Bucky nodded. “Yeah. I’ve left that life behind for good. Everything’s been erased.”

You looked up at him, still holding Alpine close, but something in your expression softened. “That means… you could protect me, right?”

Bucky blinked, surprised by your question. “Protect you?”

You bit your lip, looking a bit sheepish. “I mean… it’s not like I need someone to, but… it’s kinda reassuring knowing you could, if anything ever happened.”

A small, relieved smile tugged at the corners of Bucky’s lips. He took another step forward, closing the distance between you. “I’d never let anything happen to you,” he promised.

You finally smiled back, the tension in the room starting to dissolve. “I believe you.”

There was a moment of silence, but this time it wasn’t awkward or heavy. It was peaceful. You placed Alpine gently down on the couch and walked toward Bucky, resting your hand on his chest. “I guess that’s just another part of you I’ll have to get used to.”

Bucky exhaled, the weight of the conversation lifting off his shoulders. “Thank you… for understanding.”

You smiled, a bit shyly this time, and then you led him to the bedroom. The night was quiet, and as the two of you settled into bed, you rested your head on his chest, his arms wrapped protectively around you. It felt safe, comforting, like you were finally where you both belonged.

Alpine curled up at the foot of the bed, and Bucky pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head, his heart full in a way it hadn’t been for a long, long time.

🌸🌸🌸🌸

The morning sunlight streamed through the curtains, warming the room. You stirred slightly, still wrapped in Bucky’s arms, feeling a rare moment of peace. That is, until you heard the front door creak open, followed by your mother’s voice echoing from the kitchen.

“Y/N, honey! I brought some food for your fridge!”

Your heart dropped, and you shot up in bed, wide-eyed. 'Oh no. Mom's here. I'm not ready for this!' You frantically glanced around the room, then froze when you heard another voice—a second, more cheerful one.

“And we’re borrowing your bathroom!” your aunt chimed in from the hallway.

Your eyes widened even further. 'Damn it, Aunt Margaret too?' You turned to Bucky, who was still blissfully asleep beside you. Leaning over him, you shook his shoulder with urgency. “Wake up!”

Bucky blinked, still half-asleep, his brows furrowing as he mumbled, “Huh? What’s going on?”

Panic surged through you. You glanced toward the door and back at him. Without another word, you grabbed the blanket, quickly wrapping it around him as you began pushing him toward your wardrobe. “Just get in here!”

Still groggy, Bucky allowed himself to be shoved toward the wardrobe. “Are we under attack?” he muttered, half-dazed.

“Oh, it’s way worse,” you whispered harshly, yanking open the wardrobe door.

Bucky immediately tensed, his training kicking in. “Who?” His voice was low and serious now.

You glanced nervously toward the hallway. “My aunts.”

Bucky blinked, confused. “Your—”

Before he could say more, you stuffed him into the wardrobe, quickly closing the door. You ran a hand through your hair in frustration, throwing on a hoodie and rushing out of the bedroom.

In the kitchen, your mom, Sophie, was already busy rearranging food in your fridge, humming to herself as she worked. She turned when she heard your footsteps. “Oh, hi, sweetie. Hope you don’t mind me coming over. I brought some meals for the week.”

Behind her, Aunt Margaret stood with a small smile. “We didn’t want to bother you, but we need to use your bathroom real quick before heading to the spa. Hope that’s okay.”

You forced a smile, trying to stay calm. “Uh, yeah, sure.”

“Smile more, don’t be rude,” your mother reminded you, placing another container in the fridge.

“Mom, I just woke up,” you muttered, rubbing your eyes.

Suddenly, a sharp gasp came from behind you. “Oh my goodness, who’s this?” Aunt Margaret exclaimed, her voice filled with excitement.

Your stomach dropped again as you turned and ran back toward the bedroom. You barely made it through the door before you saw Margaret standing by the wardrobe. She had, of course, snooped her way in, and now she was staring wide-eyed at Bucky, who was still awkwardly wrapped in the blanket. His muscular arms were exposed, and he looked like a deer caught in headlights.

“Hello,” Bucky said, his voice deep but sheepish, as he pulled the blanket tighter around himself.

Your mom and Aunt Margaret were utterly speechless, their mouths hanging open as they took in the sight of him. Sophie blinked several times, trying to process what she was seeing. “Who… is this?” she finally asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

You swallowed hard, feeling your face flush. “Uh… this is my boyfriend.”

Both your mom and Aunt Margaret gasped in unison. “Boyfriend?” they exclaimed, their eyes lighting up with disbelief and excitement.

“Oh my goodness!” your mom clapped her hands together. “You didn’t tell us you had a boyfriend!”

Margaret, still grinning, rushed toward Bucky, looking at him like he was the most exciting thing she’d seen in years. “We’re so happy for you, Y/N! And such a handsome one, too.”

Bucky, clearly out of his element, nodded politely. “Yes, ma’am,” he said with a small, awkward smile.

Your mom, still beaming, clasped her hands together. “You both have to come to dinner on Sunday. The whole family will be there. We’d love to get to know him better.”

Bucky straightened up, still holding the blanket around him. “Of course, ma’am. I’d be happy to.”

After what felt like an eternity of pleasantries, your mom and Aunt Margaret finally left, their excitement palpable as they discussed plans for the evening family dinner. You closed the door behind them, letting out a long, exasperated breath.

Bucky emerged from the bedroom, running a hand through his hair. “So… dinner?”

You turned to him, shaking your head. “Prepare yourself, Bucky. It’s going to be dreadful.”

He gave you a puzzled look. “You don’t like family dinners?”

You sighed, sitting down on the couch. “It’s not that. It’s just… a lot.”

Bucky sat beside you, looking thoughtful. “I’ve never really done the whole family dinner thing,” he admitted quietly.

You glanced at him, surprised. “Never?”

He shook his head. “Nope. This is new territory for me.”

A small smile crept onto your face. “Well, get ready. My family doesn’t hold back.”

Bucky chuckled softly, his hand resting on yours. “Guess we’ll face it together then.”

You squeezed his hand, feeling a bit more at ease. “Yeah. Together.”

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

It was a quiet Sunday evening when you and Bucky arrived at your family’s house for dinner. As soon as you stepped inside, all eyes turned toward Bucky. It was like he was some rare, exotic artifact on display. Every relative, from your cousins to your elderly aunts, stared at him with wide eyes and hushed whispers, as if they couldn’t believe you had brought someone with you, let alone someone like him.

Bucky, dressed neatly but clearly out of his comfort zone, politely nodded and shook hands as he was introduced to everyone. He kept his posture composed, but you could tell he was uneasy by the way he kept glancing at you, searching for some sort of reassurance.

At the dinner table, the seating was predictably divided—men on one side, women on the other. You sat with your mother, aunts, and cousins, while Bucky sat with the men, looking slightly out of place as they tried to make small talk. You caught his eye across the table, and he gave you a small smile, as if to say, I’ve got this.

But then, it happened. One of your nosier aunts, Aunt Margaret, leaned over to you with a curious glint in her eyes. “So, what does your boyfriend do for work?”

You took a breath, bracing yourself. “He’s a contractor,” you replied casually, hoping that would suffice.

Aunt Margaret wasn’t done. She raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. “Does he have a home?”

“Yes,” you said, your tone firm. “He has his own place.”

“Well, that’s good,” Aunt Margaret said with a sniff. “So much better than your father. He had a medical degree, but what good did it ever do him? Useless.”

You felt a sharp pang in your chest. Your father had always done what he could. He might not have used his degree, but he had made sure you had a roof over your head, food on the table, and your school tuition paid. When your mother needed surgery, he borrowed money to make it happen, and he paid it all back. In your eyes, he had been a good father, despite his flaws. But finding out about his infidelity at his funeral—that had shattered you.

Before you could respond, Aunt Margaret continued, oblivious to the hurt in your eyes. “Well, at least your future is secure now. You could just set the wedding date. The family has already met him, after all.”

You clenched your fists under the table. “Why is everyone so obsessed with me getting married? Are any of you planning to pay for it?”

Aunt Margaret looked taken aback. “It’s just—well, why wait? Especially at your age.”

You felt your temper rising. “If you’re not donating or paying for my wedding, you have no right to give me orders.”

Aunt Margaret gasped, her hand flying to her chest. She stood abruptly and left the table in a huff.

Your mother, always the peacemaker, leaned toward you. “Don’t be mad, sweetie. They only want the best for you.”

You let out a dry laugh. “The best for me? Mom, I’ve seen enough of the marriages in this family to be scared out of my mind. Maybe they just want to see if I’ll have a better marriage than they did.”

Your mom sighed softly. “You don’t know how it will be until you go through it.”

“Mom, please,” you said, shaking your head. “I know you want the best for me. But the one who will actually live the marriage is me, not them.”

Your voice softened as you continued, “I do want to get married. I want to be with the man I love, to stay by his side for the rest of my life. But I need to be sure it’s what I want, on my terms.”

Your aunt, having recovered from her earlier offense, decided to pipe up again. “Well, you’re not getting any younger. Why waste time?”

That was it. You snapped. “Almost all of you have been in terrible marriages! Domestic violence, cheating husbands—and him!”

You pointed across the table at your uncle, whose face turned a shade of red. “You’re the worst of all. You cheated on your wife while she was sick, stressed her so much it led to her getting breast cancer! While she was going through chemo, all she ever wanted was for you to apologize, and you couldn’t even do that. No wonder your kids hate you.”

The table went dead silent. Your uncle glared at you, but he couldn’t deny what you had said. The truth hung in the air like a dark cloud.

“You’re rude!” one of the other aunts muttered under her breath.

You let out a humorless laugh, throwing your hands up. “I’m the bad guy? Fine. It’s not a family gathering if there’s no drama, right?”

Your voice dropped, filled with contempt. “Look, even though we’re family, there are still boundaries. And you’ve crossed them.”

You could feel the tension in the room rise, but you weren’t done. Glancing at Bucky, who had been watching in silence, you reached for his hand, gripping it firmly. “Oh, and if anyone here thinks they can push my mom around, remember one thing.”

The entire table leaned in as you gave them a deadly serious look. “My boyfriend is a hitman.”

Everyone gasped, eyes widening as they looked between you and Bucky. Bucky himself seemed surprised, his eyes blinking as if he couldn’t believe what you had just said. He didn’t deny it, though, which only added to the shock.

You continued, undeterred. “I’ve seen his weapon collection. So if any of you think about messing with us—don’t.”

Your aunts and uncles exchanged nervous glances, clearly shaken. One by one, they started to gather their things, mumbling hurried excuses as they filed out of the house. Only your cousins lingered behind, giving you discreet thumbs up as they left, clearly impressed by your boldness.

As the last of them disappeared, you turned to Bucky, letting out a long breath. “Well, that went well.”

Bucky gave you an amused smile. “Guess I don’t have to return my weapons after all.”

You laughed, feeling lighter now that the tension had lifted. “Guess not. But I think we’ve officially scared them off for good.”

Bucky wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close. “You were amazing back there.”

You leaned into him, feeling a sense of victory. “Yeah, I was.”

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

As the dust settled from the family dinner, only three of you remained in the house: you, Bucky, and your mother. You felt the weight of the awkward silence pressing down, and when it was finally time to leave, you slipped into the car first, not ready to face your mom. You knew she would defend her sisters and brother, no matter what.

Through the window, you caught a glimpse of Sophie, your cousin, glancing your way. Her expression was a mix of concern and curiosity as she exchanged whispers with your mother. Sophie was aware of your feelings, but she had brushed them off, just as she always did. You had confided in her about your trauma, about how her mother's words had cut deep, yet she had chosen to ignore it. In that moment, you realized what you were holding in was like a ticking bomb, waiting for the right moment to explode.

Bucky noticed Sophie’s gaze and turned to her, curiosity etched on his face. “So, was it true what she said? Are you really a hitman?”

Bucky nodded, his expression serious. “I used to be.”

Sophie was taken aback, her eyes widening slightly. “Well, I guess she likes strong men,” she said, forcing a nervous laugh that felt strained in the tense atmosphere.

“Ma'am, may I have your permission to marry your daughter?” Bucky asked, his tone respectful yet playful.

Sophie raised an eyebrow, a mixture of surprise and delight crossing her face. “I won’t ask her now; I’ll wait until she’s calmed down. But I do need your consent.”

“Of course,” Sophie said with a genuine smile, her eyes softening. “I give you my blessing.”

As you drove back home, the tension in the car was palpable. You sighed heavily, breaking the silence. “Urgh. I’m so embarrassed.”

Bucky glanced at you, a teasing smile playing on his lips. “That’s the first time I’ve seen you show so many emotions.”

“No…,” you protested, feeling your cheeks flush with heat.

“I’m not kidding. Instead, I’m amazed,” he said, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Really?” you asked, a flicker of surprise igniting in your voice.

“Yes. In my former job, I used weapons to take out my targets. But you…” Bucky glanced at you with admiration. “You wield words like weapons. It’s not just a triple kill; I saw them lose it.”

His gaze held you captive, and you felt the truth of his words resonate deep within you. He would never put you on the edge; the ending was obvious: you would win the argument. “If you became a lawyer, you’d have a 100% success rate,” he added, grinning.

You looked down at your hands in your lap, feeling a warmth spread through you. “You know, the reason I was brave back there is that you were by my side.”

Bucky’s expression softened, and he reached out, holding your hand gently. “If you want me to,” he said, his voice low and steady, “I can make them disappear. Especially your uncle. Just say the word.”

His grip was reassuring, and for the first time since the dinner, you felt a flicker of safety amidst the chaos.

Bucky glanced over at you, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. "By the way, I’ve got an extra ticket to see the pandas. Want to go?"

Your face lit up immediately. "Of course!" you replied, barely able to contain your excitement, already picturing the fluffy pandas in your mind.

🌸🌸🌸🌸

Extras:

In the stark, sterile environment of the emergency room two years ago, chaos reigned as doctors and nurses hustled to save a critical patient. The man lay on the gurney, his body battered and pale, a deep stab wound in his abdomen oozing crimson, soaking the sheets beneath him. His eyes were vacant, and the beeping monitors signaled a disheartening rhythm that reflected his fading pulse.

“Time of death,” the attending physician announced grimly, his voice heavy with the weight of finality.

“Y/N, stop it. He’s gone,” one nurse urged, her expression a mix of concern and resignation. She stepped back, crossing her arms tightly as if trying to shield herself from the painful reality.

“No. Let’s give it one more try,” you insisted, your heart racing with adrenaline and determination. You positioned yourself beside the patient, refusing to back down in the face of despair.

With steely resolve, you pressed your hands against his chest, starting compressions with calculated urgency. “Come on, just one more time,” you urged, your voice steady yet filled with hope, as if willing him to respond.

The seconds felt like an eternity, but suddenly, the monitor emitted a series of frantic beeps, and you felt a faint pulse beneath your fingers. “I’ve got it! I’ve got a pulse!” you shouted, your heart soaring with renewed hope.

A wave of relief washed over the room as the team rallied around you, working swiftly to stabilize him. You squeezed the patient’s hand, your grip firm and reassuring. “I’m glad you didn’t give up,” you murmured softly, your eyes locking onto his as a connection formed in that fleeting moment.

As the medical team continued their efforts, you noticed the scars etched into his skin—marks of battles fought and survived. Leaning closer, you brushed a strand of hair from his forehead, your heart swelling with empathy. “You’ve been through a lot. Get some rest,” you whispered gently, a comforting smile breaking through your worry as you remained by his side, willing him to pull through.

The room, once filled with despair, now held a fragile glimmer of hope, and you knew that as long as you believed in his fight, miracles could still happen.

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[m4rv3l-girl]

“You Made a List?” - (Knife Play)

Bucky x Y/N

Y/N made an interesting to-do list, Bucky wants to tick them all off..

Requests Open!

Warnings: Smut. Knife play. Blood.

Bucky sat on the edge of his bed in the quiet apartment he shared with Y/N. The room was a stark contrast to his tumultuous past; white walls, a simple wooden bedframe, and a single framed picture of them together on a shelf. He stared at the floor, his mind racing with the day's events. He had been out on patrol, a routine mission that had ended with him saving a cat from a tree. A small victory in the grand scheme of things, but it brought him back to the comfort of their shared space.

Y/N walked in, her hair still damp from a recent shower, a towel wrapped around her body. She noticed the tension in Bucky's shoulders and the furrow in his brow. "Rough day?" she asked, her voice a gentle caress in the stillness.

Bucky looked up and offered a forced smile. "It's nothing," he said, not meeting her eyes. He didn't want to burden her with his past, not when they had worked so hard to build their life together. But she knew him too well.

She saw right through the facade and moved closer, placing a hand on his shoulder.

Her touch was electric, grounding him in the present. He took a deep breath, feeling the warmth of her hand seep into his skin. "I found something," he began, his voice low and tentative. He reached under the bed and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper.

Her eyes widened as she recognized her own handwriting. "Oh, that," she said, her cheeks flushing pink. "It's just a little list I made, you know, for fun." The words 'Things to try in the bedroom' were scribbled across the top in a playful scrawl.

“You made a list?” He mused. Scanning the items, his eyebrow raising at each suggestion. "Knife play," he read out loud, unable to keep the amusement from his voice. "That's the first one?"

Y/N looked at him, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Well, it's not like we're going to try all of them in one go," she said with a laugh, trying to lighten the mood. "I was just….curious"

Bucky's eyes searched hers, looking for any sign of doubt or fear. When he found none, only excitement and trust, he felt his own anxieties dissipate. He had faced worse than knives in his life; this was a game they could play together, safely. "Alright," he said, setting the list on the bed. "But I'm stopping if I think you don’t like it.."

Y/N leaned in, her damp hair leaving a trail of coolness against his cheek as she whispered, "You’ll do it?”

The air grew thick with anticipation as they prepared for their evening adventure. Bucky's heart raced in a way it hadn't in a long time, not from fear or battle, but from the thrill of exploring something new with the woman he loved. As they moved closer, the world outside faded away, leaving only the warmth of their shared space and the promise of an exciting night ahead.

Bucky pulled out a velvet-covered box from his nightstand, Y/N’s cheeks still flushed. Inside was an impressive assortment of knives, each one meticulously chosen for their varying sizes and shapes. They were not the weapons of war he was accustomed to, but tools of passion - items he had collected for enjoyment not for use in combat.

He picked one out, the metal cool and smooth in his hand. The blade glinted under the soft glow of the bedside lamp, and he couldn't help but feel a strange sense of excitement.

He turned to Y/N, who had dried off and donned a silk robe that clung to her curves. Her eyes searched his, looking for any sign of hesitation. He gave her a reassuring nod, and she took a deep breath, letting it out slowly as she felt the tension in the room shift. He approached her, the knife held delicately between his thumb and forefinger.

Tracing the line of the knife along the edge of her jaw, he watched as her eyes fluttered closed, a soft sigh escaping her lips.

His touch was feather-light, a stark contrast to the cold steel. He moved down her neck, the blade barely grazing her skin, sending shivers down her spine. Each stroke was precise, calculated, as if he were mapping out the landscape of her body with the sharp tip.

Her heart thumped in her chest, the rhythm echoing in her ears. She felt the warmth of his breath against her neck as he whispered, "You're sure?" Y/N nodded, the anticipation building like a crescendo. Bucky continued, the knife moving in a gentle pattern down her collarbone and over the swell of her breasts, her body responding to his every move with a symphony of goosebumps.

With the utmost care, he slipped the knife between her robe and her skin, the cold metal pressing against her hardening nipple, drawing out a soft whimper. He watched her closely, reading her reactions like a book.

When she didn’t flinch, he began to feel more at ease.

He knew he could trust her, and she knew she could trust him. They had been through so much together, and this was just another chapter in their story – one of exploration and growth.

He continued to trace her body with the knife, the sensation both thrilling and terrifying. But with each pass, the fear melted away, leaving only desire in its wake. The tension in the room was palpable, a living thing that coiled around them, tightening with every shallow breath she took.

Y/N’s eyes remained closed, lost in the sensation of Bucky’s gentle touch. It was unlike anything she had ever experienced, a dance of control and vulnerability that brought them closer together. The coolness of the metal was a stark contrast to the heat building between them, and she felt every inch of her skin come alive.

As the tip of the knife circled her navel, she gasped, the sensation shooting straight to her core.

Bucky paused, looking for her consent. She opened her eyes and met his gaze, nodding again. He continued, the knife gliding over her hips, her stomach, each movement a silent promise of what was to come.

When the tip of the metal finally slipped past her pubic bone, it grazed the sensitive peak of her clit, she inhaled sharply.

The feeling was indescribable, a mix of excitement and trepidation that had her body trembling. He watched her, his eyes dark with desire, as he began to carefully stroke her with the cold blade. The pressure was just right, not too much, but enough to send waves of pleasure rushing through her.

Her knees grew weak, and she reached out to grip the edge of the bed for support. Bucky noticed her reaction, his own arousal spiking at the sight of her vulnerability. He stroked her clit in a slow, deliberate motion, the knife serving as an extension of his touch. The metal was cold against her hot, wet skin, sending shivers through her body that only heightened her sensitivity.

"Sit still," he murmured, his voice gruff with need. "I don't want to hurt you."

Y/N whined softly, her body straining against the delicious torment he was inflicting. The combination of fear and pleasure was intoxicating, a heady cocktail that had her teetering on the edge. She knew Bucky would never harm her, but the thrill of the knife’s serrated edge up against her delicate flesh was undeniable.

Bucky watched her closely, his own need growing with each gasp she made. He could feel the heat radiating from her body, could see the way her nipples pebbled against the silk of her robe. He knew she was close, so he decided to give her what she wanted – a little more. He teased her clit with the blade, moving it in a slow, up and down motion that had her hips bucking and her breath coming in ragged pants.

Her eyes snapped open, and she met his gaze, pleading for more.

He could see the desire in her eyes, the impatience warring with the fear. With a smirk, he flipped the knife in his hand, the handle now pointing upward. He held it out to her, the metal slick with her arousal. "Suck it," he ordered, his voice low and firm.

Y/N took the handle into her mouth, her eyes never leaving his and she moaned around it as she took it deep. Her hands came up to wrap around his wrist, guiding him as she sucked and licked, her tongue swirling around the handle. Bucky's grip tightened, his own excitement growing as he felt her mouth enveloping the knife.

When he was satisfied with her preparation, he slowly removed the handle from her mouth and brought it back down to her clit, now slick with her juices and her own saliva. He teased her again, the wetness from her mouth adding to the sensitivity. She was panting now, her body begging for release.

"Bucky, please," she whimpered, her grip on the bed tightening.

With a wicked smile, he positioned the handle at her entrance, the metal cool and hard against her heat.

Y/N took a sharp breath as Bucky pushed the handle of the knife slowly inside her. It filled her in a way that was both strange and incredibly erotic. She felt stretched, the sensation of cold steel penetrating her, and she knew that he could feel her tightness around it.

Bucky's eyes never left hers as he began to move the handle in and out, his movements deliberate and controlled. The coldness of the metal was a stark contrast to the heat of their shared desire, and she could feel her body begin to adapt to the intrusion. It was a delicate dance of pain and pleasure, each thrust bringing her closer to the precipice she desperately sought.

Her breath grew ragged, her moans muffled by the fabric of her robe as she bit down on the material. She could feel the knot in her stomach loosening, the tension building as he fucked her with the handle. His hand was steady, his gaze intense, as if he was watching for any sign that she needed him to stop.

But she didn't.

Instead, she pushed back against him, her body begging for more.

The sound of the knife handle sliding in and out of her filled the room, a rhythmic counterpoint to their harsh breaths. Each thrust was a silent declaration of their love and trust, a testament to the bond they shared. Y/N could feel herself losing control, her hips moving in time with his hand, her body straining for release.

Bucky's eyes never left hers, his pupils dilated with desire. He watched her face contort in pleasure, the way her mouth opened in silent screams, and he knew she was close. He increased his pace, the slickness of her arousal making the handle glide in and out with ease.

She was so wet, so ready for him, and the thought sent a bolt of lust straight to his groin.

With a final, desperate thrust, she shattered around the handle, her orgasm ripping through her body like a supernova. Her nails dug into the bed, her back arched, and she cried out, her voice hoarse and raw. "Such a pretty slut, doll," Bucky murmured, his voice thick with approval. He watched her ride the wave, her body quivering with the aftershocks of pleasure.

Y/N's eyes flew open, meeting his gaze as she came down from her peak.

She felt a flush of pride at his words, her heart racing with a mix of love and lust. He had called her that before, but tonight, it felt different. It was as if he were praising her in the most erotic way for trusting him, for letting go of her inhibitions. She knew he meant it as a term of endearment, a declaration of his admiration for her openness.

Y/N nodded, feeling a thrill of excitement. "Yes, I want-…" she whispered, her voice barely audible.

He leaned in, his breath warm against her ear. "What do you want me to do?"

The words came out before she could even think them through. "Carve your initials into me," she said, her voice steady despite the tremor in her hands. "I want to carry a piece of you with me."

Bucky's eyes searched hers, looking for any sign of doubt.

When he found none, he took the knife in his hand, his movements deliberate and precise. He leaned over and kissed her softly, his breath mingling with hers. "Where?" he asked roughly, his voice thick with anticipation.

"My thigh," she murmured, pointing to the spot she had chosen. It was a place she could easily hide if needed, but also somewhere she could see every day, a constant reminder of this night.

With a deep breath and a moment of contemplation, Bucky took the knife and pressed the tip to her skin. “Tell me to stop, Doll.” He pleaded feeling a depraved arousal at this.

“Don’t you dare.” She stated.

She felt the pinprick of pain as the metal broke through the surface, a sharp contrast to the gentle kisses he peppered along her neck. He began to trace the first letter, the 'J', his hand steady despite the tremor that had taken hold of his body.

The cut of the knife peircing through her skin was faint but distinct, a testament to his skill and control.

The pain grew more intense as he moved on to the 'B', the sensation of the blade carving through her flesh sending another shockwave of pleasure through her.

She bit her lip, her eyes watering as she watched him, his focus unwavering. When he reached the 'B', she felt the sting of the blade a bit deeper, and she couldn't help but gasp.

Immediately, Bucky's mouth was on the wound, his tongue darting out to lick away the bead of blood that had formed. The sensation was indescribable, a mix of pain and pleasure that sent her spiraling into another orgasm. In an unexpected throb of agony and ecstasy, her thigh muscle clenched repeatedly under his ministrations.

He kissed the spot tenderly, his eyes never leaving hers.

As the initials 'J.B.B' began to take shape on her skin, she felt a sense of belonging, a mark of ownership that she craved. She knew that she had just given him a piece of herself, and that he had accepted it, claimed it even, was intoxicating.

When he was done, he pulled away, his eyes searching hers for any signs of regret. But all he saw was a look of pure, unadulterated bliss. He couldn’t believe the trust she had in him, the willingness she had to submit to his desires.

It was a heady feeling, one that made him feel alive in a way he hadn't felt in a very long time.

They sat there for a moment, their bodies entwined, the room silent except for the sound of their ragged breaths. Then, Bucky leaned in and kissed her again, his tongue sliding into her mouth, tasting her, claiming her. This was their secret, their shared moment of power and passion, and it bound them together in a way that nothing else could.

The night was still young, and they a few long hours ahead of them. But for now, they basked in the afterglow of their first successful experiment, their hearts racing in sync, their bodies craving more. They were a team, united in their love and their desire to explore the boundaries of their relationship.

And as Bucky held her, feeling the pulse of her blood beneath his fingertips, he knew that no matter where the night took them, they would face it together, unshackled by fear or doubt. They had each other, and that was all that mattered.

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Part 2 - (Temperature Play)

——————————————————————————————————So, what did you guys think? Your comments really help me to cater my writing to what you enjoy! 🫶