#but either way I hope anon gets to write this as it sounds interesting!

[clawsdevour]

his first crush

wc: 1.2k content warning: ur atsumu's first ever crush and he's all nervous and shy and silly!, fluff, atumu x reader, not proofread

note: this is for that one anon req!! im sorry that i chose to write atsumu instead of hoshiumi b/c genuninely i'm still not very familiar with hoshiumi as a character!! T_T but i still hope you enjoy this!!!!!

ㅤ۪⊹ ꣑ৎ

“The girls are gonna practice alongside us this whole week, you better behave” you overhead from the back. A familiar voice jogging through your mind while you attempt to look back to see who said that.

It was Shinsuke Kita, Inarizaki’s boys volleyball captain. He was explaining the current situation the girls’ gym was in and why you were gonna be sharing their courts to the Miya twins who’ve stopped by at your class.

A recognizable blonde behind his grey haired twin was trying to sneakily look through your class. His eyes squinted and widened in excitement the moment he found out where you sat by the window. 

Atsumu had a big fat crush on you and everyone on the boys’ volleyball team knew. The moment school started after summer ended was when you found out you had class with one of them. Meaning, that that person may update Atsumu your every action if they really wanted to.

When you transferred into Inarizaki last year, you were a complete nobody. Not in a way where everyone disliked you, but in a sense where you absolutely knew no one. That was until you tried out for your favorite sport, volleyball, and successfully made it onto the team! From there you met your fellow friends, and classmates that they introduced you to. That of course, also lead to Atsumu’s discovery being you. 

One day you stayed a bit longer in the gym where no one else was in building. You were practicing your serves, in hopes to get better before your next match. From the corner of your eye you saw a blonde man peak his head in, feeling his intense eyes resting on you, but too focused to look back. 

Your dedication towards volleyball and your team got you caught up in his heart. He only came to the girls’ gym to look for his trainer, but was swept off his feet by his first crush ever, you.

“Oh my god Samu, she sits right ‘der” you heard Atsumu loudly whisper from behind Osamu before leaving.

You weren’t annoyed or disliked the fact that Atsumu liked you. You thought it was kinda silly how he chose you to crush on, overall he was popular amongst the girls in Inarizaki. 

Either way you weren’t sure what the rest of the school year is gonna bring but you know it’ll be a very interesting year before graduation.

“Okay girls, remember to be respectful to the boys and their coach because they’re allowing us practice in their gym this week due to construction,” your trainer explained to your team. You’re all standing in front of the gym while your coach continues. 

A few girls in the back were gossiping about the Miya twins and how attractive they are while you smiled under your straight face, a bit excited to see how Atsumu will react the moment he sees you walk in.

“For the first fifteen minutes, you guys will be stretching and warming up together to get along since we’re gonna be in here for a while. The boys’ coach will be subbing in for me while I prepare atheletic sheets to hand out, got it?” A loud ‘Yes!’ roaring from your group. 

Your coach slides open the door, excusing your guys’ intrusion. The boys’ trainer walks over to the entrance to greet you all, the sounds of squeaking coming to a halt to follow behind their trainer. 

When you’re all situated in the gym, their coach is going through all the basic rules about his courts and shows you which one you’ll be practicing in as well as where the balls are kept. Everyone’s bowing and introducing each other, of course a small crowd around the twins as always. They both somewhat ignored the girls, waiting for their trainer’s next order.

“Please choose a partner to get warmed up with for 15 minutes before you both split off and practice in your teams!” yelling across all the chit chat, catching everyone’s attention before they all go off to pick partners.

You’re looking down at everyone’s shoes, knowing everyone’s either already partnered up or already searching for one of the guys. A few steps in, a pair of familiar shoes catches your attention while you look up. It was no else but Atsumu Miya.

“Um… HI! Do you need a partner?” A bit louder than usual due to anxiousness, his hand reaching out to you with the other scratching the back of his neck to calm his high nerves. His large hooded eyes inspecting you in your casual shorts and tee.

“Oh..! Sure,” gladly agreeing amongst the murmurs. His hand reaches out to yours, leading you towards the volleyball cart in the back to select your ball, trying to get away from the crowd that gradually dispersed. While choosing a ball, his piercing tension is so dense the pressure’s making you sweat in fear.

“How bout you choose? You probably know which one’s best!” Turning around rapidly, pushing him closer to the cart nervously trying to get rid of this awkward atmosphere you created.

“O-Okay..” turning his head to seek a ball that’s in good condition. His heart is pumping like crazy, he can’t help but swallow hard. He wants this to go well and to build a stable connection with you throughout the week.

The moment he turned around was when you started to get down to stretch. Taking your mind off that blonde to get all loose, thank god because he would’ve continued to stare you down while you were choosing a ball.

“Let’s practice over there,” facing you again with a wide smile, he’s pointing at the corner of the gym where it’ll just be you two. Everyone’s already finished stretching, either in line to grab a ball where the front of the gym was or peppering to get more warmed up.

You agreed and followed him, he’s walking so stiffly. Did he forget to stretch? You can’t help but have these random thoughts engulfing your mind while you analyzed Atsumu now that you get to see him up close. 

Blonde hair that so needed to be toned with purple shampoo, his brown hair growing in and peeking from the bottom. His tall and broad stature was attractive.. Not to mention his face. Him and his twin are highkey attractive, you had to admit.

“Pass!!” you shouted at him the moment threw the ball in the air. Somehow catching him off guard.

“Sorry about that. Kinda got the jitters, ‘er something like that. Ya know what, ignore that.. That was embarrassing” his pale face flushed a hot red in humiliation from what he just said. You tell him it’s okay and to continue, hearing him course under his breath.

To be honest, you thought that it was kinda cute that he had this more vulnerable and shy side to his tough guy act he always puts up. For once, he was the one who’s more flustered than even just a regular girl.  Before he began to practice with you, all you could think about is how this was gonna be a long but fun week.

masterlist here

[thebluester2020]

If you're taking writing comissions.. I really liked your post about sdv bachelors with reader who squirts...but let's turn it around! How about a farmer (female) who is really quiet during sex? Cuz you know, when she was touching herself alone, she didn't want to be loud and it stayed that way. You don't have to write all the bachelors, I'm interested in Harvey 👀 I imagine he would be concerned at first and overthinking if he did something wrong

Harvey x Quiet Farmer Who Squirts For The First Time

Summary: Harvey makes a quiet reader squirt for the first time. Warning(s): Munch Harvey, Reader is a bit quiet in this one, Slight dom!Harvey(?) [It quickly goes away though lol], Both Harvey and the reader are shy together tbh. Side note(s): Sorry this took so long anon- the procrastination virus hit me hard 😭 [I hope this is close to what you were asking for!] Also, shout out to Aaryan Shah for being my song inspo that allowed me to write this. His music is so good I swear to god.

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

He couldn't help the nervousness that racked his entire body as he feasted upon your sex. You...you were just so quiet!

And that was something that he never minded. Your comfort and pleasure came before any wishes he may have had or would ever had, so long as he was allowed to suckle at your cute clit, sweet babbled murmurs and moans flooding his ears like the welcomed warmth of water over cold skin. He was was fine with you never making a single sound in the bedroom.

Your reactions and silent pleas for him to continue were enough for him, enough to make his cock absolutely ache.

But, at this moment? As your cunt practically begged and drooled for more of his skillful tongue, the sight of your glistening pussy wet from the sheen of your slick making his throat dry as if he hadn't taken a sip of water in days. Coupled along with the fact he was admiring your panting figure through his lashes, a question mark silently formed in his head.

Why were you so adamant on making as little noise as possible?

As arousing as your attempts were...from how you bit your lip so hard to the point he feared it would bleed.

Or how you'd squirm and turn your head side to side, biting either the pillow sheets or covering your lips with the back of your hand if that wouldn't work. Adorable as it was, his desire to hear you moan out his name all the stored-up breath in your lungs frew ever fervent in his mind. To the point he feared he'd begin to cum inside his boxers like some teenager!

But...rather than try to confront you about it, it was far more fun to let his tongue and fingers do the convincing. To let them coax your voice out of you.

"H-Harvey...?" You whispered in a daze as you finally registered Harvey's tongue no longer circling your sex, your breath labored as you shakily rose your head to look at him.

"Yes?" He responded with devotion in his gaze, apologetically pressing a kiss to the inside of your thighs as his fingers slowly traced your labia.

You sucked in a breath, electricity pulsing through you at the simple slow touch. "W-Why did you stop?" You whispered.

Harvey pressed another kiss on you, to the hood of your clit this time as he steadily worked you back up, as well as silently worked himself up to the plan he was about to commit. He almost felt bad for it! Torturing his poor wife who looked like she was on the verge of tears if she didn't get to cum in the next minute.

"Harvey..." You moaned, trying to get his attention once more. "A-Aren't you going to— Oh!" There it was...the noise he'd been so desperately searching for, yearning quietly since the moment you two had started becoming intimate with one another, all from him suddenly plunging his fingers inside of your wanton sex and curling them up into your sweet spot.

An action he more than eagerly repeated as his head dived back towards your sex, lapping and suckling at your engorged clit as he unconsciously rutted against the sheets, aching to release his cock from its confines and find relief in your sweet sweet pussy.

"I'm so clue," You cried out, your thighs shaking as your peak rapidly approached the more Harvey's fingers continued its assault on your G-spot inside your pussy. Something that didn't register in the doctor's head as he became drunk off your juices, barely paying mind to how your thighs twitched more than usual or how you were becoming more and more vocal.

It was like finally receiving that badly wanted gift during Christmas.

His groans against your pussy creating a delicious buzz against your clit that further brought you closer and closer to orgasm until...something felt different.

You grabbed his hair, fruitlessly tugging to try and catch his attention. "H-Harvey...!" You keened, Harvey's free hand digging into the flesh of your hips to keep you open before you came. The sheer force shocked you as a guttural scream ripped from your throat, white flooding your eyes as wetness gushed out of your cunt.

And it was silent as you came down from your explosive high, your chest heaving up and down as you struggled to focus your vision and come back down to reality. Your vision was blurry and...filled with Harvey's worried expression as he looked down at you. "Y/N! Are you okay?" He asked, his voice distant as you smiled all dopey-like.

"Y-Yeah..." You said.

As you steadily propped yourself up on your elbows and rose an arm to loop around Harvey's neck, bringing him closer to you. Both you and he began to blush as you tried to work up to asking your question. "C-Can you do that again...?"

His words choked up in his throat, his cock twitching at your words.

Rather than it being a one-time thing, it seemed he'd have all night to continue to hear your unashamed moans...

[monstersflashlight]

Patreon commission for anon

Request: I was thinking a fem!vampire reader that works at a coffee shop and she has fallen in love with a werewolf customer, but he’s kinda oblivious and a bit of a himbo, and when she finally confesses he’s like…completely taken aback but not in a bad way? And if you feel like it sexy times, but I’m also open to serious fluffy stuff too…ummm the reader is chubby tho, like…I would really appreciate it if you keep it either neutral or make it apparent that the reader is short and chubs.

“You know I don’t like coffee?”

Werewolf (name: Toby) x fem!vampire chubby reader || heavy make out, fluff, pretty much SFW || TW: internalized fatphobia (very light)

“Order for Toby!” You try not to get amused by his taken aback stand as he approaches you.

He always looks so confused when you call his name that you don’t even know why he comes here in the first place. You always have to bite down on your lip to avoid giggling when he takes the first sniff of his coffee. Coffee black, two sugars, one vanilla. Every evening he comes and asks for that, even though he clearly doesn’t like it. It amuses you how he clearly wants to order something else but ends up ordering “the same” everyday.

“Tha- thanks,” Toby’s stutter makes you smile at him, your fangs glistening under the fluorescent and catching his eye. He licks his lips predatory, like he’s savoring your smell in the air, but once again he doesn’t say anything, he just leaves.

You grunt at the next customer, getting angry at yourself for being hopeful that such a cute werewolf would give you the time of the day.

That’s why after a couple weeks writing down your number on his cup and not hearing back from him, you had enough and start getting your break when you know he’s going to show up. The first day you almost give up and get back to work when his soft tone asks for you. But you endure. He didn’t call you. He didn’t show interest in you. Maybe he just likes the way you make coffee (even though he frowns every time he picks it up).

But the third day he shows up in a different time, making you prepare his order the same way you always do, writing your number one last time on the bottom, always hopeful that this time would be the time. When he grabs his coffee, you tell your coworker you are taking a break, wanting to get far for him. He doesn’t let you. He follows you to the back room, your coworker not even caring that he does that.

He crowds against you in the tiny room, he’s so much taller than you that you have to look up when he asks: “Why are you avoiding me?” His tone is a bit hurt and you have to swallow your regrets, because this is his fault.

You press a finger against his chest, accusatory, when you ask back: “Why didn’t you call me?”

“What?” He looks completely confused, and you want to kiss his stupid face so much you have to press your long nails into your palms, the little pain bringing you back to reality.

“I’ve been leaving my number on your cup for weeks and you never called, but then you show up here everyday even though you don’t like coffee just to see me. I don’t get it. I don’t understand it,” you explain. You try not to sound hurt, but it permeates your voice either way. It did hurt, it hurt so much that he didn’t call any of the times you left him your phone number.

“You know I don’t like coffee?” He deadpans, making you even more angry at him, forgetting your pain at his rejection in order to look at him. If you were a cartoon character you’d have smoke coming out of your ears.

“That’s what you wanna focus on?!” You whisper-shout to him. He steps back, completely taken aback by your tone.

“I- Sorry. What?” He questions again, his puppy eyes making you want to melt.

You want to be mad at him, you want to be furious, but when you open your mouth what comes out is: “You don’t... You don’t like big girls, is that it?” You hate yourself a tiny bit for letting your insecurities get the best of you.

Toby’s face contorts in what feels like a caricature. “What?! NO! I love your curves, I want to take a bite of every curve of your body, good goddess you look like my best fantasy came to life,” he says everything so fast that your brain is a bit dizzy by his confession.

When you fully register his words, you are even more confused than before. “Then why didn’t you call?” You are really missing something here. If what he says is true, and what you say is true… Why haven’t you been on a date or something?

“How would I?” His confusion is so clear in his tone, and his ears twitch so adorably when he tilts his head to the side that you want to squeeze him until he’s just a puddle of goo on the floor.

You take the coffee cup and turn it around, splashing some of the contents on the floor. You show him that there’s indeed a number written on the bottom. “My number. In your cup. Everyday,” you repeat.

His surprise is so evident that he gapes like a fish at the numbers and then back at you. Numbers. You. Numbers. You. “Wait. Wait. You like me? You gave me your number?” His question is followed by some mumbling that you don’t catch, like he’s talking to himself. Or more like cursing himself.

“Yes! I’ve been trying to get you to notice me since you first came in,” you confess. You are so glad you can’t blush, because if you could, you’d be as red as a tomato.

He repeats: “You have?” His surprise shouldn’t be as adorable as it is, and it shouldn’t make you want to kiss him senseless. It should make you mad at him that he’s been so obvious to your flirting.

“Yes!” You exclaim, throwing your arms up, exasperated.

“I- I… I didn’t know.” His tone is soft, almost a whisper, and his ears keep twitching over his head. He’s embarrassed, you realize. And that makes you want to coo at him. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry,” he keeps chanting as he squeezes your body against his. Your face barely gets to his shoulders, but the way he squeezes you against him makes every worry you had about him disappear. He wasn’t rejecting you, he was just too dumb to realize you were into him. Stupid werewolf himbo.

Toby’s arms hold you so tightly against him that you fear he’s going to break you. “Dude, if I wasn’t a vampire you would break me,” you let out.

“Oops. Sorry.” He lets go of you and looks like you just gave him the best Christmas present ever. “Can… Can I kiss you?” He asks, his big paws holding your face tenderly.

“I thought you’d never ask.” You grab him by the collar of his shirt and pull down with all your supernatural strength, giggling against his mouth when you hear the ripping sound. But you don’t care. And he doesn’t either.

Your lips are against his, and your fangs are pinching his lips as he whimpers. You deepen the kiss as he grabs you by the waist and pulls you up, your legs wrapping around his middle as you grind against his toned abdomen. His hands find your ass and he starts groping you, his tongue dancing against yours. You are in heaven. After so many weeks of pining, you can’t believe you are grinding against his body as he caresses yours. You’ve never been happier to be with a supernatural, his strength coming in handy to support your weight without any problem. It’s exhilarating.

You make out like horny teenagers for what feels like hours, but it’s probably no more than fifteen minutes. You are breathing heavily against his neck, your fangs gracing his artery without biting down, as he groans and moans, rocking his impressive erection up to meet your needy core. You want to bite him so bad, but you know it’s not the place. Your venom can induce some kind of frenzy in werewolves and you really can’t have him fucking you raw in the backroom of the cafeteria. You like this job.

“Your break is up,” a voice says behind you, making you let out a short scream as Toby giggles, his face buried in your neck and his hands still squeezing your ass like he’s kneading bread.

He lets you down and pats your ass once more, kissing the tip of your nose softly. “I’ll pick you up when your shift is done. I think we have things… to discuss.” The innuendo on his words and the way he looks up and down your body like you are his next snack is enough to make your non-existent pulse race.

You can’t wait for your shift to be over.

Reminder that you can commission me (info here) or suscribe to my Patreon (info here). And that my second account is @whiskis

[sebscore]

gen-z driver chaotically taking over martin’s grid walk? thank you!!

KEEPING UP WITH THE GRID

pairings: f1 team principals, drivers and ex-driver x driver!reader (im too lazy to name everyone im sorry)

warnings: swearing. christian horner. mention of a nipple tweak.

author's note: anon, you are a legend for requesting this! I'm not too proud of the writing, since I wrote this in the middle of the night and my brain doesn't function normally then. but i hope you like it anyway, darling! let me know your thoughts!!

masterlist

• • • • • • •

Y/N was mindlessly scrolling through her phone when a sudden loud voice interrupted her peaceful time. ''How are we feeling about today, Y/N?'' Martin bent his knees, so he could hold the mic up to her face as she sat on the ground. 

''Oh my god, you scared the shit out of me.'' She cursed, quickly covering her mouth as she knows she isn't supposed to swear on Sky Sports. ''Uh, I'm feeling pretty good about it, I'm starting on the second row, so not too bad.'' The driver answered his question, smiling sheepishly. 

''You like having alone time before a race?'' He continued, a grin on his face. 

Y/N shrugged her shoulders. ''I just happen to be alone right now, sometimes I'm chatting with my team or with some of the other drivers.'' 

''Martin, you look a bit tired, you want to sit down?'' She patted the space next to her, feeling bad that he was crouching down while she comfortably sat on the grass. 

The former F1 driver held a look of surprise on his face. ''In all my years I've been doing this, no one has ever offered me to sit down.'' He gave the camera a glance before slowly letting himself sink to the ground. 

''You know, people always wonder 'Where is Martin?' But no one ever wonders 'How is Martin?' We need to take better care of you.'' The man seemed clueless about what she was saying, but he was amused either way. 

''I'm alright, all that walking takes a lot of energy.'' He responded, pretending to wipe sweat off his forehead. 

Y/N chuckled. ''Yeah, I mean, you've been doing this longer than I've been alive, so I understand that you're tired from all the walking.'' She never let the oppurtunity slip to make him aware of their age gap. 

''Well, let's not talk age,'' he sighed, making her laugh, ''anyway, I think I might just hang around here for the entire segment.'' Martin concluded. 

An idea popped into her head as she heard his words. ''Can I do it? I've always wanted to do it.'' 

Martin was surprised for a second time since joining the young woman. ''You mean I let you go around the grid and talk to people?'' 

She nodded. ''Yes, I love bothering people with my presence.'' Y/N said, matter-of-factly. 

The Brit looked at his cameraman, who adamantly nodded his head to the idea of letting the driver do her thing around the grid. 

Martin let out a deep breath, but handed his mic and headset over. ''Just don't get me fired,'' he said, trying to sound stern, ''and don't curse!'' He quickly added. 

''I won't, I promise! I'll see you later!'' She got up from the ground and put the headset on, slightly altering it so it fit her head perfectly. ''Alright, let's make some controversy.'' Y/N exclaimed, pulling the cameraman along. 

She glanced around the grid, trying to find some interesting people to talk to. ''So, I just need to find a person and ask them questions about whatever I want?'' The athlete asked the cameraman, who simply nodded his head, making the camera shake as well.

''Oh, I love this program!'' She giggled into the microphone, doing a small jump out of happiness. 

Y/N observed the grid, knowing her first ''guest'' needed to be a good one. ''Okay, I've found someone!'' She let the cameraman know, pointing in the direction she wanted to go. 

''Alright,'' she tapped the person's shoulder, having them turn to the camera in confusion, ''the first guest on Y/N's grid walk is the team principal of Mercedes… Petronas… Benz…,'' she tried remembering the full team name, ''Whatever, his name is Susie's husband! Welcome, Susie's husband.'' She introduced Toto. 

The Austrian man was incredibly entertained by the young woman's antics. ''Hello, Y/N.'' 

''I have to ask you- how does it feel to be married to the greatest woman alive?'' She asked him, glancing around to find the woman in question. 

Toto laughed at the question, but proceeded. ''It's great, Susie is an amazing person who has done countless amazing projects and campaigns- I'm a very lucky man.'' The sincere smile on Toto's face when talking about his wife brought a smile to Y/N's face. 

''That's so cute- where is she? I only came over here, because I thought she would be here.'' 

''Unfortunately, she's not here today,'' he told her in a sad tone, ''I know that upsets you, Y/N.'' The driver's girl crush on Susie had been an obvious thing for many years, amusing everyone involved. 

Y/N pouted at his words. ''Well, yeah… that upsets me a lot actuall-''

''What is going on here?'' A British accent interrupted her interview with the team principal. 

''Go away, Russell George! I don't want you on my show.'' Y/N teasingly dismissed George, slapping his arm to get him out of frame. 

The Mercedes driver feigned offense, placing his hand on his heart. ''Why not? I thought we were great friends, Y/L.'' 

''Crikey, crikey, crikey! Don't you have shirtless pictures to post somewhere? Bye bye!'' She quickly got away from the Mercedes team, practically running at one point. 

Y/N let out a big sigh into the mic. ''Martin was right, this is tiring,'' she momentarily stopped in her steps, her hand on her waist, ''OH! Look! It's Charles Lechair!'' Her tiredness from a few seconds before was long forgotten as she strided over to her Monégasque friend. 

''Charles, hello, Charles!'' She put her hand on his back, guiding him to the camera. ''How are you feeling about the race today? What are the strategies? Do they know that word at Ferrari?'' She teased the red team. 

''Uh, we're feeling optimistic today and yeah, I'm ready to give it my all.'' He smiled, putting up his tv-friendly facade, not wanting to trash talk his team on television. 

Y/N raised her eyebrow. ''You're so cute being all positive! Keep that attitude, Perceval!'' She patted his shoulder. ''Thanks for talking to me and good luck!'' She bid him goodbye. 

The young driver walked in all sorts of directions. There were many people present on the grid, yet Y/N had quite a hard time finding people to talk to. It was when she walked by the Red Bull team that she found her next victim. 

''Christian! Christian Horner, hello, welcome!'' She and the team principal didn't have the best history, but she knew the viewers would enjoy the interaction as they knew said history. 

''Everyone, I'm joined here today by Red Bull, uh, Orange, Racing or whatever, F1 Team's team principal, Christian Horner.'' She butchered the team name again, although it was one purpose this time. 

She turned towards the man. ''Christian, I won't hold you up too long, but there is one question that our viewers have been dying to ask you and I think this is the right time to finally do it.'' Y/N build the question up. 

''Yes?'' He seemed a bit nervous, attentively listening to her words. 

''Can you say one nice thing about Y/N Y/L?'' 

The Brit visibly looked relieved at the question, thinking it would be something controversial. ''Of course, she's, uh, a very talented race car driver.'' He nervously smiled at her. 

''You heard it here first, ladies and gentlemen, Christian Horner thinks Y/N Y/L is the most talented driver in the history of Formula One!'' She overdramatized his response. 

''You know what they say, keep your friends close, but keep your enemies even closer.'' She patted Christian's shoulder. ''Thanks for the talk, good luck and I hope you don't win.'' Y/N told him before walking off, hearing him laugh behind her. 

''So far, I've talked to Toto Wolff and Christian Horner,'' she said to the camera, ''enemies to, uh, even worser enemies, I guess.'' 

''Guys, we're here with Yuki's boyfriend, Pierre Gasly.'' Y/N stood next to the Alpha Tauri driver, shoving the microphone in his face. He took his airpods out of his ears, already chuckling at the girl's actions. 

''How are you doing?'' 

''I'm-''

''That's all the time we have for you, I'm sorry.'' She didn't let him finish his words and walked away from him, quickly giving him a smile so he knew she was entirely joking. 

She stepped further onto the grid, continuing to look for people. ''A bunch of green outfits, not very fashionable- oh, it's Aston Martin! Let's find Sebastian!'' Y/N mixed herself with the Aston Martin team, trying to catch the German driver. 

''Seb! Seb! Can I ask you a few questions?'' She eventually reached the man, greeting him with a kiss on the cheek. 

His signature bright smile covered his face. ''Yeah, but where's Martin?'' 

''Me and Martin made an agreement, I get to do the grid walk and he gets to drive my car later- although, he never won any races, so that might not have been a great decision on my part.'' She told Sebastian, who seemed confused and fascinated at the same time. 

''Well, I think you're doing a great job as reporter.'' He deflected her words, not wanting to get in trouble by saying anything about Brundle's lack of GP wins. 

She smiled. ''Thanks, anyway… I know qualifying didn't go too well for you, but are you optimistic about the race?'' 

''Yeah, quali wasn't what we were hoping for,'' he sighed, ''It's gonna be difficult today, but we're gonna try our best to get as much points as we can for the championship.'' Sebastian finished his answer with an encouraging nod. 

''That's great to hear! You've been- oh my god, is that your dad?'' Y/N had glanced away from Sebastian's face for one second and saw Norbert watching them, waving at her once he noticed her looking at him. ''Okay, bye Sebastian! I'm gonna talk to your dad now.'' 

She walked past the Aston Martin driver to approach his father. ''Can I ask you some questions? I swear it's very short.'' She didn't want to burden him for too long. 

Norbert gave her a thumbs up, not minding being interviewed for a short time by her. ''It's okay.'' 

''Amazing! I mean, you're a legend of the paddock, Norbert! The drivers love you, the fans love you, everyone just loves you! Do you feel the love every time you attend a GP?''

Y/N had a good relationship with him as he and Sebastian would sometimes attend her karting tournaments together. Norbert had given her parents advice on how to support the young girl as best as possible. In a nutshell, the Vettel family were some of the greatest people she had ever met. 

''I do feel it, it's a great feeling and everyone is so nice to me.'' He wasn't very confident in his English, so he kept it short. 

Y/N smiled at him, delighted she got the chance to talk to him. ''You're always super sweet to everyone, so it's only right that we reciprocate your kindness,'' she nodded, ''okay, last question! Apart from Seb, who is the driver you're rooting for today? Is it someone you know very well? Or someone who is standing next to you and is asking you amazing questions?'' She played with a strand of her hair, pretending like she wasn't talking about herself. 

He laughed at her words. ''I'm supporting you, of course!'' He exclaimed, his arm going around her shoulder. 

''Oh! You're the best, Norbert! You're my favorite Vettel for a reason!'' Y/N said extra loud, knowing Sebastian would hear it that way. 

''I'll leave you alone now, thank you so much and I'll see you after the race.'' She gave him a brief hug and he wished her good luck, which she thanked him for. 

The cameraman had difficulties keeping up with her, used to the slower pace of Martin. Y/N noticed this and slowed down, sending him an apologetic look. ''Alright, I've talked to Seb, so I feel obligated to talk to Lewis now.'' She commented, trying to look for the 7x World Champion. 

''Where is he? He shouldn't be this hard to find…'' The athlete always saw the Mercedes driver hanging around the grid, chatting with his celebrity friends or getting ready with Angela. 

Y/N frowned. ''I should lore him or something…,'' she thought for a moment, ''vegan food, I have vegan food! Uh, free skydiving session! Oh my god, is that Roscoe on the track?'' She tried making him appear, but the only thing she got was weird looks from bypassers. 

However, a certain blond man caught her attention instead. ''Okay, I can't find Lewis, but this person knows him very well… or used to at least.'' 

''Britney Spears! Can I interview you for the highly respected tv-show, Y/N's grid walk?'' She snuck up to the former Mercedes driver, catching him off guard, but he played it off. ''Sure, I'm very honored.'' His monotone voice almost made her cringe. 

''First question: is it alright if I call you Britney? I don't know how you feel about the nickname.'' 

Nico chuckled at her. ''You can call me that, Y/N.'' 

''Ooooh~ I'm getting special privileges! I like it!'' She was impressed by Nico's answer, not being sure if he would go along with her humor. 

''Next question! How does it feel to be a Monaco based Youtuber? Do you enjoy the influencer life?'' 

The former World Champion snickered at her question, not expecting her to bring up his Youtube channel. ''It feels great, I'm, uh, yeah, enjoying the influencer life.'' She could tell Nico was doing his best to come off as positive as possible. 

''Nice, good for you, dude! Anyway, this was Britney, the man who beat the 7x World Champion, Lewis Hamilton, in equal machinery in 2016!'' She quoted the meme that was often made online when people talked about Rosberg. 

Y/N didn't wait for Nico's reaction, a bit too scared if she was honest, and made a run for it again. ''I've talked to three German guys- wait, is Nico German? He said once that he doesn't drink beer, so I don't know if he's considered German.'' She rambled on, not even listening to the words that were leaving her own mouth. 

''There's Jenson.'' She caught the Brit talking to his Sky Sports colleagues. ''You know what? I've embarrassed myself enough already, I'm not making it any worse.'' Y/N went in another direction so as to not cross paths with him. 

''Too bad he doesn't drive anymore, I would have loved to give him a lucky nipple tweak.'' Martin and Jenson used to have this running gag of the older man giving him a nipple tweak for good luck before a race. 

Y/N didn't see where she was going and almost tripped over someone's foot. ''Oh, shit!'' She loudly exclaimed, balancing herself so she wouldn't fall. ''Oh, fuck I can't swear- wait, shit! Ugh!'' She pulled the microphone away from her face, that way her curses wouldn't be picked up. 

''This isn't live, right? Cause then I'm in trouble, I think.'' She glanced at the cameraman, who mumbled a small ''It is live.'' 

''THIS IS LIVE?'' Y/N gasped, looking absolutely horrified at the thought of thousands of people watching her at that moment. ''Let's find Martin then, I think I've done enough damage.'' 

She headed back to the place where the presenter had approached her. ''Martin! Where is Martin?'' The driver glimpsed around, but no Martin in sight. ''I have oatmeal!'' She yelled, before making eye contact with the camera. ''Old people love oatmeal, right?'' He simply chuckled, not wanting to shake the camera too much with his laughing. 

''Oh, there he is!'' Y/N spotted the man and made her way over to him as fast as she could. ''I definitely didn't say anything controversial or cursed throughout the entire thing.'' She greeted him. 

Martin looked relieved as she handed his microphone and headset back over to him. ''I was out of my element for a while,'' he joked, ''did you have fun, darling?'' 

Y/N nodded her head. ''Yes, I'm even considering changing career paths.'' She chuckled. 

''That's great,'' Martin smiled, confident she made some amazing television, ''well, I think you're gonna have to go, cause I can see your, uh, coach not looking too happy.'' He pointed towards her performance coach staring daggers at her. 

''Oh, fuck, yeah, bye Martin! Thank you so much!'' Y/N quickly thanked the man for letting her take over his segment and she dashed out of there, hoping her team wouldn't be too upset about her disappearing into the grid to ask everyone ridiculous questions. 

''She's a special one for sure.'' 

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[firemenenthusiast]

hi hi! I wanna say I love your writing and love that you’re on the Archie train rn - I do have a lil request so I know most people think Farleigh is like submissive but I would love one where he’s like super dominant and for smut he’s like basically leaves you crying from overstimulation and makes you come a lot but like in a fun way not necessarily toxic (which isn’t bad either but yeah) (((: idk I feel like he’s a switch and could be both dominant and submissive

oh my god dom!farleigh finally out ! thank you so so SO very much anon for being so patient with me and i am incredibly sorry for making you wait this long :’(

—“casual”

dom!farleigh x fem!reader

summary: there’s a reason why you should never talk about farleigh behind his back

warning: 18+, smut, pwp, unprotected sex, rough sex (dom!farleigh), brat tamer! farleigh, free use, degradation kink, farleigh and reader sounds like fuckbuddies, cunnilingus, slapping, name calling (slut & whore) (sorry) (not sorry), praise kink, petnames (baby, sweetheart & doll) oral fixation, face-fucking, mirror sex, cock-slapping, spitting, making out, overstimulation, blowjobs, dacryphilia, throat fucking, mating press, teabagging, facial, cum eating, creampie, cervix fucking, ruined orgasm, foul language, humiliation, aftercare, fluff at the end

a/n: i really hope this is okay with what you’ve imagined anon, as writing dom!farleigh is by far my hardest work yet. literally pondered on this piece for months. enjoy ! teehee <3 also keep reading, it gets better

“can you believe it ? like— im not even asking for much but he’s just so, ugh” the girl sitting over at the end of the couch complains. you’re sitting in a circle, well not quite a circle, but it’s a bunch of girls just lounging, sitting and talking about what’s currently bothering them. and this time, the topic is boyfriends. cliché, but they can really be a pain in the ass according to these girls. you’re not sure if you can relate, given that you do not have a boyfriend. but you do have farleigh, whatever you’re calling him. he’s never bothered to put a label on it, and certainly never bothered to ask you to be his girlfriend. “oh my god yes” you hear one of the girls agreeing, followed by the others nodding and grabbing at each others thighs

“what about you ? i mean, we certainly heard a lot about farleigh” one of the girls asks you, snickering at the end of her sentence. everyone around campus is familiar with how farleigh’s relationships never end peacefully. they always end with a series of drama that apparently everyone is tuned in on. it’s like a ‘what did farleigh do this time ?’ show, that airs every couple of months. the common hall massacre from farleigh’s last hook up is still being talked about till this day and it’s been like what, six months ? you don’t know why even after seeing those messy events where farleigh always looked like he couldn’t care less, you still ended up in his bed at the end of the very party where he first laid his eyes on you. i guess when thee farleigh start shows you even the slightest of interest, you have no other option but to give in. it’s like a once in a lifetime opportunity, and one must be strong enough to resist the temptation of getting with the tall, golden skinned brunette. you— ? you just don’t have it in you.

pursing your lips, you quietly force an awkward smile to yourself, practically eye rolling. ofcourse they would be interested. you shut your eyes for a moment before blinking to every eyes focusing on you. truth be told, you dont like talking about farleigh to people, especially to answer invasive questions like this. you already feel so insecure with whatever kind of relationship you have with farleigh, so having people try to peek into it puts you in a very uncomfortable position. “what about him ?” you raise your eyebrows with your question-response in a desperate attempt to push farleigh off the topic. “girl how’s your boyfriend ? is he great or…” one of the girls tease, flipping her hair over her shoulder, trying her best to provoke an answer from you, preferrably a piece of gossip that she could spread to her girlfriends at uni.

“he’s not my boyfriend” you let out quietly, head low, correcting their assumptions that it’s an established relationship, earning a swarm of mutter from throughout the group. some of them already exhanging knowing looks and giggling to each other. well isn’t this just humiliating. “how come ?” the blonde serves you with yet another question, tone obvious that she’s just mongering for gossip. the sudden light dust prickling at your eyeballs are being wiped away by a heavy blink from you. all these questions evoke a sudden rage from within. she’s right. yeah, how come ? how come you’ve been letting farleigh fuck you anytime he wants when he doesn’t ever bother to make you his girlfriend. you’ve realised a long ago that it’s unlikely that you’re gonna be a couple but everyone seems to think the two of you are exclusive by the way none of you have been caught fucking anyone else.

noticing your expression, she decides to spare you the humiliation and just move on to her next question even though the former hasn’t been answered. the situation is making you awfully quiet, and it’s not just because you barely knew any of these girls, you just thought sitting with them in this mild get-together at farleigh’s mansion might offer you some sort of entertainment. never have you thought that you’re the one who’s gonna be the entertainment. the thick buzz at the top of your head confuses you between the exhaustion of talking to obnoxious young adults invited tonight or the weariness of knowing that you’re just a toy to farleigh. at first you didn’t really care, but after a while the boy’s starting to grow on you. sometimes he does care, the way he always walk you back to your dorm after a long night of doing your activities. but most of the times you tell yourself that it’s just common courtesy, and he could be doing that to any girl he wants.

“ah fuck that, how’s the sex ?” was her other question, which was followed by daunting whoops of teasings from the girls. still, every pair of eyes is set on you and it’s gotta be on the top list of your most uncomfortable situation. however the unusual bitterness towards farleigh at the moment gags your desire to shit talk about him to these girls. as you search for something bad to say, you realise that you don’t have anything to complain. guess you’d just have to lie then. straightening your shoulders and throwing your neck back, you lean your back on your propped up arms against the floor.

“have you ever heard that he’s good in bed from anyone ?” you start, which earns eager head shakes from the girls.

“well that’s because he fucking sucks. cums too fast, and guess what ? you’d think he’d atleast bother to make the girl-“ you gesture to yourself, “-cum first, but that’s none of his business it seems” the small piece of information being sought out to the public like that leaves the girls wide-eyed, with some of them dramatically placing their palms against their chest. you feel horrible for lying, and it just registered in your head that this will go terribly wrong knowing that it’ll spread around like an infection. “oh my god. really ?” the blonde attempts to fuel to the fire mid-burning the whole place down, her blue eyes almost popping out of her head, gouging for more info from you.

nodding, you catch yourself feeding her with yet another lie. “fucking sloppy, is what he is. moans like a bitch too. i should’ve been fucking his cousin by now, which, i don’t even know why i haven’t” the last part of this whole unbased shit talk feels too much for you, as you mentally wince at how untrue just all the things you said. the whole room is filled with various sounds of gasping, giggling and overall indefinable mutters. if you were being honest, you’re still not going to tell them how you’re willing to beg for his cock, telling him to make you his cum dump, as long as you get to be fucked by him. you raise your head to examine each of their faces, subtly biting on your bottom lips at their reactions.

it was a small get-together afterall, so you wouldn’t be suprised that some of the hallways in the house are ominously empty at this hour. you could still hear a distinct chatter and music from behind the other walls but as you briskly walk towards the left wing of the mansion, your wrist is suddenly being grabbed from behind, before your whole body is being caged against the wooden wainscot on the wall, pair of huge palms snaking themselves across your forearms. “farleigh—“ you huff out, neck craned to give access to the pair of lips trailing hot, wet kisses across your skin. the tall figure caging and pressing against your body is making you whimper out a small moan, to which he lets out a chuckle. you always make it so easy for him.

wrapping his fingers around your wrist in a firm grab, he brings them above your head before moving his lips towards your soft ones, a string of saliva shining on the flesh with each breath the both of you are taking. his touches grazes your skin delicately, dragging you into becoming an addict. you suck in a deep breath through your nose as you return the kiss, tongue darting to lick on his bottom ones, earning a smile from him. “i’ve missed you” he teases, while running his fingertips along your waistband, knowing the two of you only parted ways when his friendgroup approached him, which later lead you to the wrongful confessions with the girls earlier. words like these makes you long for his affection, spending your sleepless nights thinking about the feelings you may or may not have caught for him. he huffs out against your face, forehead resting against each other as you feel his hot breath on your skin. he leans down to chase your lips for yet another kiss, your noses nudging against each other only for him to hover over your lips with a teasing grin, making you grow desperate from the phantom kiss.

his large hands rest on the curve of your waist when you push him back by his broad chest, both your fingers sprawled over the fabric of his linen. he’s ridiculously good at maintaining his balance all while being pushed back with his head leaning down, still kissing you, his pretty curls grazing the skin on your cheeks. he’s so pretty, the type of pretty that makes you want to look at him all day, the type of pretty that you’d fall for. the way he kisses you could make anyone believe that he’s in love, yet he never cared to let you know, or tell you that this is just a fling for him. you already know where this is going, as you were on your way to find him in his room anyways. you let out a small giggle when he almost toppled back over a bump on the carpet, before he joins you with a low chuckle against your lips.

“c’mon, farleigh—“ whining, you’re half begging for him to just pick you up and carry you to his bed, which, like he could read you mind, he does. “i know, baby”. you’re clinging onto him with your legs wrapped around his waist, your hands cupping his face to deepen the kiss as you feel the growing bulge poking at your thighs. humming into the kiss, he pulls away momentarily to lean you against the wooden door of his room, turning the both of you to hold you against the door, forcing it to shut, all while his tongue licks your taste off yours.

you could feel his desperation grow from his kiss as your fingers work eagerly unbuttoning his shirt. he fumbles with the back of your dress, reaching to undo the string, heavy pants escaping both your lips, practically clawing at each other. after peeling the linen off his shoulder and pulling it down to throw it on the floor, you watch him move recklessly. “fucking get this off” he groans, as you reach to the back to help him. everything is moving so fast, and you glad it does as it seems to be impossible to remain patient with each of farleigh’s touch against your skin. it’s like a craving, an addiction, as desperation fills the thick air inside the room more then the hot breath puffing from your lips.

as soon as you’re left only with the matching set of underwear, farleigh wastes no time picking you back up to throw you on the bed, his body flush against yours as his kisses down your body are starting to get wet. between his fingers raking around your waist and his mouth sucking on the skin of your collarbone leaving wet bruises all across it, you feel yourself getting lost in the haziness, unable to mutter a single coherent sentence. all that could be let out past your lips are whines and moans, as your fingertips graze against his scalp, pulling at the root of his curls. you feel helpless, exposed and needy for him and only him, to do something. once you feel his lips kissing dangerously close to your cunt, sucking and licking especially hard on the flesh of your inner thighs, you find yourself reaching for his face. “farleigh please,,” you let out pleas after pleas, begging for his lips to be where you need him the most. paying no mind to you, he continues placing his marks across your inner thigh and the spot closest to the hem of your panties with his palms smoothing over the skin on your torso.

he’s humming in between kisses, his eyes rips themselves from focusing on marking your skin to look directly into yours, maintaining eye contact. if it wasn’t for the growing bulge in his pants, he’d be willing to spend the rest of his time just looking into your eyes. tilting his head down, he pushes the crotch of your panties to the side, breaking eye contact for a moment to look at the dripping mess in front of him, grinning at how soaked your folds are, making your eyebrows knit. the way your pussy glisten with your wetness gotta be one of his favourite views ever. feeling the ache down your core starts to throb, you can’t help the pitchy moan slipping past your lips and the sudden bucking of your hips into his face. “don’t make me beg farleigh, please” the words coming out of your mouth contradicting each other. before you could add to your complaints, you feel his swollen lips smashing against your folds, his tongue hot, licking away all the wetness collecting and dripping towards your hole. he has one hand holding you down by your waist, and another rubbing on your pussy, spreading the folds apart so his tongue could have better access. the fingers on your pussy roam down to your hole, pushing your clit upwards so he could settle his whole face in between your thighs, his nose repeatedly nudging against your clit. driving his face into your pussy, it’s like he’s stuffing his face with your essence, eager to lick away every drop of wetness dripping down your folds as he feels like nothing tastes better. he hums, sending vibrations through the sensitive nerves, fishing out another whine from you.

“gonna cum, farleigh. please make me cum” the words come out of your mouth like water, without you even having time to think it before. as the knot in your lower stomach begins to get tighter with each sucking of his lips on your folds, he knows you’re seconds away from cumming. you could feel the wave of pleasure threatening to wash down over you, as you’re willing to give up everything to chase after it, even your dignity. shutting your eyes, your fingers harshly grab at the sheets beneath you, as farleigh suddenly rips his mouth away from your pussy, moving over to stand at the edge of the bed, his eyes busy eyeing his hands that are unbuckling his belt. “what the fuck—?!” you almost yelled, anger and dissatisfaction tearing through your voice as you look at farleigh in disbelief. the orgasm that you were chasing is washing away, leaving your pussy feeling so raw and swollen.

he throws you an unbothered look with an eyebrow quirked, his lips shiny from eating you out. “sorry, apparently i’m just not bothered to let the girl cum first” the coy expression on his face obvious, the slight curl at the side of his lips quickly being stripped away. “—isn’t that right ?” he continues, leaning over with his knee dipping into the mattress, his propped arm settling beside your temple, his face inches away from your muted one. the furrowed eyebrows that were accompanying your anger dropped down, as your glossy eyes now being forced to look into his intimidating ones. you could feel that he’s not happy, but none of his expressions tell that, except that you’re fucked.

you hear him let out a chuckle as he leans back, both his knees on either side of your body, resting his weight on your torso. “you should see the look on your face sweetheart” he tsks, shaking his head at you heavy breathing, still affected by the orgasm that he just ripped off from your core. no words could be lolled out of your tongue and you could only shake your head as an attempt to save yourself. he cocks his head to the side before his eyes widen,

“no, i mean it”

moving his knee over your body, farleigh moves to the side of the bed before reaching over to cup the back of your neck, pulling you up to push you off the bed by your neck, forcing you to sit infront of the body sized mirror by his nightstand. you’re kneeling, your hands are forced to prop yourself up from face planting on the hard floor, ass is sticking out on full display giving him the perfect view. oh how he loves when you’re exposed like this for him and no one else.

before you could even react to being pulled off the bed, his fingers already curl themselves across your skin, wrapped around your neck, pulling you upstraight so you could only look at your reflection in the mirror, and his smug face while he crouches down. “look at yourself, such a pretty face-“ he starts, fingers moving to push your cheeks together, his arms pressing down your chest so you’re resting against his shoulder.

“-but so. fucking. dumb.” he says, tapping roughly on your cheek after each words.

the last part of his sentence heavy, emphasizing on how stupid you are that you couldn’t even think before going off telling people such lies. “you know what i love to do with a pretty face that doesn’t know when to shut up ?” he trails off, letting go off your face to continue unbuckling his belt, the metal of the buckle clinking, before unbuttoning and pulling the zipper down.

“as if you know when to shut up” you spit out, trying to retaliate against his words.

he offers you an amused look before shaking his head and smile. “i love when you prove me right“ farleigh chuckles as he looks up to meet your eyes in the mirror, before pulling down his pants, along with his boxers, making his now fully hard length that was straining in his pants spring up, hitting the trail of hair on his lower belly. no matter how many times you’ve seen and been fucked by him, you still think he’s huge. he’s perfectly girthy, his tip always flushes a deep shade of pink and his cock’s just as pretty as him.

he steps closer towards you, reaching down to gather your hair in a makeshift ponytail before pulling you up, forcing you to stand on your knees. he looks at you with that grin you could never crack the meaning of, as you watch his other hand move to grab the base of his cock. his firm grip pulling at your scalp leaves you quiet, as you could only glance between his face, and the leaking cock in his hand. with your head in his one hand and his heavy length in the other, your eyes are on the same level of his waist where you could hear the loud sound of him spitting into his hand, as it lands on his length. the lewd, loud squelching sound of him stroking saliva all over his cock right beside your face makes you clench around nothing

sighing, he pulls your face towards his crotch before starting to slap his hard cock against your cheek. you’re starting to feel degraded to a mere sextoy with the way he’s smearing his cock all over your face, the sensitive tip tapping at your swollen lips. his long digits wrapped around the base serves a great purpose of aiming his slick length so it slaps heavy against your face, bouncing against the skin again and again, omitting loud slapping sounds. “i don’t even know what i’ve ever done to you-“ he starts, tongue poking the inside of his cheek.

“-but you don’t talk about me that way, baby”

he stops the slapping of his cock to wipe it all over your face instead, repeatedly moving his shaft over your nose as it makes him groan in pleasure. your pretty face is covered with the slick of saliva and precum, you hair a mess and sticking all over your face. as soon as he finishes his sentence, your entire reflection on the mirror is being blocked by his legs stepping in front of you, so he could roughly shove his hard cock past your lips, pushing it down your throat. the sudden pressure at the back of your tongue makes you gag, as tears start forming on your waterline. you’re starting to regret the things you said just for the one minute of validation. farleigh has never done anything like this to you, but you know this is not going to end anytime soon.

“shh…shh- it’s okay, im just gonna fuck this mouth slow and nice. is that good ?” he coos, his hips begins thrusting into your mouth, starting nice and slow before quickly changing to a rapid pace in a split second, not allowing you to adjust at all. he’s now properly fucking your mouth, and if you didn’t already feel like a cocksleeve, you certainly do now.

“there you go, you’ve always been so good at sucking my cock. you’re a proper slut you know that ?” he mutters through gritted teeth, both his large hands cradling your head, slamming your face down his cock, heavy balls slapping against your slicked chin from all the drool dripping down your lips. looking up at him, you try to blink away the glossiness of your eyes as you give him an obeying look, seeking for his approval. “oh that’s cute, you’re my little slut aren’t you ?” the whiny moans you’re letting out sends vibrations, further stimulating his cock. “aww mouth too full of cock you can’t even answer” giving you a fake pout on his lips, he pulls out for a moment to let you answer, yet you’re keeping your mouth shut. “i said-“ he yanks your hair as he leans down close to your face, “-you’re my little slut aren’t you ?” you almost topple back before nodding vigorously,

“yes, yes—“

“yes what ?”

“yes i am, farleigh”

your quick response earns a satisfied grin from him before your mouth is back to being stuffed by his hard cock. you try your best not to gag too hard on his length as you know farleigh wouldn’t appreciate that. even with him treating you like you’re worthless, you’re still eager to please him. maybe you are indeed a slut. his slut.

the rapid movements of your head bobbing down his shaft and his hips thrusting into your mouth makes your hands roam up his thighs for leverage, as you look up at him through your lashes. he thinks you look so cute like this, so he offers you a smile from above, the tip of your nose hitting into his lower belly repeatedly. you could feel his thrust getting even faster before one last throw of his head and he’s pushing your mouth off his cock, messy strings of saliva connecting from your lips to his swollen tip, his balls dripping with sticky translucent substance that you couldn’t even tell. could be drool, or precum, or a mixture of both of your fluids. his cock is now resting against his navel, as it bounces with every move farleigh makes. he’s now pulling you up by your arms, the state of you so pathetic that if it were to be described, you’re nothing short of fucked and cockdrunk.

“c’mon sweetheart, hands and knees. need to fuck your pussy” his instructions loud and clear, as your body is being thrown like a doll onto the mattress. and like it’s instinct you immediately crawl onto the bed and prop your ass up, your legs apart, back arching with your face dropped down between the sheets. “i know you’re a good girl” he smiles, hands roaming across the smooth skin of your ass before swiftly pulling down your panties, revealing your soaking wet puffy lips, practically begging to be fucked. “well that’s a sight felix is certainly missing out on” the sight before him makes his cock twitch, a drop of precum forming at the tip before he catches it in his fingers to spread it along his length. getting onto the mattress, his pants already discarded and pooling beside the bed.

he crawls over you to rub his length against your folds, collecting the wetness that’s practically drenching his cock, before thrusting into your hole without warning. a cracked loud moan from your lips grazes both your ears as you give up against the sheets, your sobs being muffled by the soft fabric underneath you. he’s not in the mood of making you feel good as he’s only focused on fucking the dumb out of you and letting his anger out. he’s making you take his cock like a good girl he knows you are, as you struggle to adjust to the stretch of his size. he’s angry, well more like irritated, when he walked by the living room looking for you, only to hear you talking shit about him, and telling pathetic lies with no substance. there hasn’t been one fuck where farleigh doesn’t make you cum first, and he certainly fucks you like nobody else. so when you went off feeding those plastic blondes fake gossip just to appeal to them, of course he’s mad.

his large chest is now pushing down against your back, his large hand found it’s way at the back of your neck, holding your head down that your face is being mushed against the sheets. his harsh thrusts push your body back and forth, your face pressed down so hard to the point that the only sound you could let out are heavy cries and sobs, incoherent mumbles of pleads of his name as you’re being brought to your orgasm while he’s still rapidly fucking into you. “farleigh— mngh,, ohmygod“ in a way you sound like you’re worshipping him, while he’s ball deep inside your cunt, the tip of his cock bruising your cervix.

normally he would help you chase your high down but he doesn’t care. “i’ve never made you cum huh ? you can cum all you want now baby” his words are starting to get to you, as your pussy’s starting to feel so raw. another wave of orgasm come crashing down, leaving you a lightheaded babbling mess. you’re now actually crying for him, tears streaming down your face, shoulders bobbing, as both tears and drool wet the sheets underneath. “no more,, please. s’too much” you manage to let out weakly, your fingers gripping at the poor fabric desperately. suddenly you feel like he’s grown much larger than he usually does.

looking at your fucked up state, he let out a chuckle. “but i thought you wanted this ?” he mocks, he knows that you’re just too fucked up to even make up your mind. you feel so stretched out by his girth, and the position grants him the perfect access to fully fuck his cock into your pussy, thrusting forward in a rough rapid pace into the mattress. “you think felix could fuck you like this ?” he groans, making you shake your head desperately almost like you’re being hypnotised. “n-no,,no- hm“ you let out in response, your voice bumpy from his thrusts that are making your whole body shake. the whole situation is feeding the primal urge in him, as he grunts while biting down the skin at the back of your neck, his hand grabbing at your hair, pulling your head back to lift your face off the drool-drenched sheets. his other hand is holding you close by your stomach, lowering his hand to feel the moving bulge on your lower belly.

“feel that ? that’s my cock- so… fucking deep inside you. so maybe next time you wanna talk shit, fuck-“ he half whispers into your ear through gritted teeth, as his thrusts are starting to falter. both your hot cheeks are being pressed together as he talks right into your ear. “-remember how pathetic you look right now” he finishes off his sentence with one hard thrust, his hot body pressing down against yours before warm sticky substance fills up your hole, drops of it threatening to spill from the brim. you feel his chest resting on your back, he’s catching his breath as he pants into your ear with his hand wrapped around your neck.

“oh fuck,,” he lets out, voice thick with his remaining pants as he watch the cum oozing out of your cunt when he pull his softening cock out. he’s leaning back on his heels, admiring his work, ropes of white leaking down your puffy swollen lips, a low groan escapes his lips when he notices your hole clenching around nothing, pushing out more of his cum. smiling, he reaches over to squeeze your thigh, grabbing at the soft flesh. “such a filthy whore, letting me use this pussy like a toy” he lets out, his words making you feel so dirty. “aren’t you, baby ?” he coos, running his fingers across your chin. letting out a huge content sigh before hearing you mumble out a string out words. “what’s that, hm ?” leaning down, he moves closer to your lolled out face to hear you.

“you came too quick” you struggled to let out those words, yet still determined to try and piss him off.

raising his eyebrows, he seems surprised by your little protest before you feel his fingers slowly smooth over your hair, petting your head.

“i know. and that’s your job to get me hard again”

hearing his words, instant remorse washing over you as you feel him flip you over, that you’re now lying on your back, facing him. he looks even bigger, shoulders broad and glistening in sweat, making you feel like he could cage you in any moment now. his cheeks look flushed and red, his lips pink and swollen yet he never looked prettier. your hands immediately move up to hold onto his thighs, now being on either side of your upper body as his cock is hanging right in front of your face. the remainder of his cum that is clinging onto his tip drips down, landing onto your lips before his fingers push your cheeks open, shoving his cock into your mouth as he tries to fit the whole length inside.

his limp cock feels odd on your tongue at first, but you immediately start sucking on his length. “come on, doll” he urges you, eager to be able to fuck you again. you mentally flinch at the name he’s calling you, as it really makes you feel filthy. deep down you absolutely love filling your mouth full, and sucking on his cock. anything to please farleigh. he’s thrusting his hips down to your face, circling it so now it’s his balls turn to be shoved into your mouth, before being absolutely slobbered with saliva. in no time he’s getting hard again, making it easier for him to fuck into your mouth, only to pull it out and replace it with his balls again, and doing so repeatedly until he feels just. you have your eyes closed, your lips busy fondling and kissing at each of his sack, your tongue covering them with drool.

farleigh is holding onto the headboard, grunts spilling from his mouth from how good you’re worshipping his cock. as he tilt his head down, he can’t help the moan slipping past his lips at you sucking at the underside of his balls. now that he’s fully hard again, he reaches down to grab at the base of his shaft before putting the entire heavy weight of it onto your face, rubbing his length all over your soft skin, like he did earlier.

too weak to form coherent sentences to him, you manage to drag out a mumbled “please…farleigh”. you hear him let out a satisfied hum as you close your eyes, letting the feeling of his wet cock sliding on your face takes control. the length of his cock almost covering your face as he’s contemplating just fucking his cock against the skin of your face into nothing. everything’s just so wet now, his sweaty body against yours, your face warm and sticky with sweat, tears and his cum, with his balls dripping with your drool. you’re too cockdrunk to even protest, letting him use you like a cum rag, wiping the cum off his cock on your skin, your pussy throbbing from another orgasm you just had undone just from how lewd this is.

“you make such a good whore, y’know ? im gonna need to fuck your pussy again” almost immediately after saying that, he’s lifting your upper body up, making you sit while he moves behind you to let your frail body rest against his. “let me have one last fuck okay ?” he whispers into your ear, your eyelids heavy as you slowly nod. his fingers tap at your thigh, signalling you to raise your hips. he has one arm wrapped around you, pulling you up onto his lap as you feel the tip of his hard cock slip back into your cunt with the guide of his other hand. you’re now sitting on his lap, legs bent and all spread out to give access to him. he could feel the stickiness of his cum left inside you engulfing his length, that is reaching deeper, bumping into your cervix. ”fuck, could feel my cum inside you—” the stretch of his cock against your wall is squeezing his cum back out of your hole as low moans escape both of your lips. he begins thrusting at a continued pace, much like before, making your body bounce on his lap. you let out a high pitched moan, your folds still swollen as you mumble out “m’too much farleigh- no more,, please” he ignores your whines and moans, fucking up into you like he’s been starved of it.

he reaches up to grope your tits, that have fallen out of your bra when he was ramming into you earlier. this is the first time tonight that farleigh’s even bothered to touch your nipples as he normally would’ve been too attached to sucking on your mounds by now. the lack of attention to your hard nipples got them too sensitive as you feel like screaming when farleigh tweaks one of them in between his fingers. he’s cupping one of your tits in his large hand while the other one bounces hard with each of his rapid thrusts up your sensitive walls. the sound of your ass slapping against his thighs fills the room as you start to feel your maybe 5th orgasm coming, having lost count- as his thrusts suddenly stop. “nooo,, no- please don’t make me” you start whining at the sudden stop of his movements, shaking your head helplessly to try to get him to change his mind. you know this move so well, he always make you do it when you’re on his lap.

he’s gonna make you fuck yourself on his cock.

“you know the drill pretty girl” his voice firm, not leaving any space for your antics. your head resting against his shoulder feels too heavy to be lifted off, but that’s just you being a brat. you show no signs of moving, with your arms flailing weakly in his embrace. you hear him let out a sigh before being followed by a low groan, lifting you off his lap and flipping you over. you’re now sprawled open in front of him, cold air grazing across your pussy makes you shiver. he pushes his weight down against your thighs with his hands, putting you in a mating press. all you got to do was let out a gasp before a harsh slap from his large hand stings across your face. “i gave you plenty of chances-” he lets out as you feel another slap lands on your cheek

“-but you never seem to appreciate them”

another slap. and another.

you’re moaning, enjoying being treated so harshly by him. as your tears stained cheeks turn red and a new stream of tears are threatening to spill, you try begging for mercy with a weak attempt, “mmh- please, farleigh,,”. your final whiny plea is immediately being cut short by another slap, this one stings especially hard, making you think that he hates you. he’s now grabbing at the flesh at the back of your thighs, fully pressing your thighs against your tits, before his hips start thrusting into your pussy again. wet, squelching sound bouncing off the walls as your wetness start splattering all over the sheets. the shame and humiliation makes you start sobbing again, your breathing heavy as you struggle to take his cock that’s protruding against your walls.

he notices your heavy breathing, yet he has no intentions of slowing down. “you’re breathing like you’re doing all the work, fuck— “ you hear him say. his thrusts after doesn’t last long before he immediately pulls out, his hand quickly reaching down to continue the pressure on his cock. “oh fuck. fuck, fuck—“, strings of curses leave his mouth. stroking his shaft with a tight fist, his pace rapid, desperate and sloppy before his hips begin to fuck into his fist, his balls slapping against his knuckles. “fffuck, fuck yes-” staggering moans spill out of his mouth, making him look pathetic. his voice almost cracks before he’s moving up your body, his hand still pumping his cock rapidly before he’s cumming, spurting warm seed all over your pretty face. it’s not as much as before, but your face’s still covered by his cum, your tongue licking away the drops landing on your lips. you hear him let out a deep sigh, heavy panting before collapsing onto your body.

inspecting his actions closely, your mind still hazy, your face messy with tear stained cheeks, with some still clinging onto your lashes. farleigh had wiped the remnants of his cum off your face, it was the first thing he did after coming back with a bowl of warm fresh water and a piece of cloth. he’s already dressed in his comfy clothes, carefully cleaning your skin with the warm soft cloth. he’s meticulous, like he always is with everything. you look to the side to see a glass of water and a mini chocolate bar that he’d fetched when he left the room which to be honest, you thought he was gonna leave you, all alone and still fragile. looking out the window, the sky’s already starting to gain its light as it’s starting to look a lighter shade of blue. he’s quiet, eyes focused as only his fingers are moving carefully, cleaning off every inch of your body. just as he makes sure you’re all clean and comfortable, you’re surprised when he crawls up closely beside you, snuggling down as he reaches for the soft comforter to wrap the both of you underneath it.

“i thought you were gonna leave”

“not gonna leave my girlfriend alone”

the name hits you like a boulder making you perk up, eyebrows knitted as you realised that you were never his girlfriend. you turn to face him who’s already near dozing off,

“please go to sleep” he mutters out his last words before dozing off for real, pulling you closer into his arms.

taglist: @r4vn @love-me-pls @radioloom @farleighlover @imjustheretoreadsmuthaha @luckystrikerealness @juniperhasfallen @themoonchildwhofell @khxna @fuckshitslover @szapizzapanda @inglourious-imagines

dividers by: @rookthornesartistry

[eustasskidagenda]

omg hi hi! i adore your writing so much :3! if its alright with you, could i get headcanons for how crocodile, law, kid, and ace would be with an autistic s/o who loves to infodump, but is nervous to do so. theres always this odd bit of shame that accompanies infodumping for me because i get so excited i cant properly articulate myself *lays down* its just a mess of stimming, stuttering, and laughing at my own jokes. i feel embarrassed after, even if its totally an illogical response. im unsure if you write for autistic y/n so feel free to ignore this if you dont. thank you so much <33

☆Crocodile, Law, Kid & Ace with an autistic s/o who loves to info dump 

Hello, dear anon! I'm not used to write autistic y/n, because I don't know enough about this and I wouldn't like to be harmful. However, the situation you're describing is something close to ADHD, which I know well. So I've made some additional researches to be sure and come up with something, I hope you will like it. Thank you for your request, it was a sweet one ♡

CW : g/n reader, slight curses for Kid, fluff 

WC : Around 1,500 words

Crocodile 

Crocodile doesn't talk much, he's always serious and quiet. It's just that he's often thinking about his business and plans. But he's a good observer and would immediately notice if you want to say something but are too nervous to do it. He knows you perfectly, so he would recognize the way you're fidgeting.

He's a man with good manners, so his first reflex would be to lock the door and make sure no one can enter and destabilize you. When it's done, he will point his chair towards you.

"Sit. I'm listening, y/n." 

Actually, he likes hearing you speak during hours. He knows it's a way to express your love and feelings. He's flattered that you want to share your world with him. Go ahead and speak, he will listen. Even if he's just nodding or commenting short sentences in response, he has a good memory and will remember everything you said to him. 

If you're talking too fast and start to get really flustered, he will let you know that you're speaking too fast, like 'y/n, what did you just say?' 

Your hyper-focus and info-dumping are appreciated by Crocodile because he enjoys learning new things and you're a source of knowledge. Maybe he's impassive and struggles to express his feelings, but sometimes you will hear him talk about what he learned with you, so clearly he listened to every single word. 

"Don't be ashamed, it was interesting. Can we talk more about this specific point?" 

If you say something that he is really curious about, he has no shame asking for more. It's a way for him to express his genuine care for you. For him, it's a way to prove to you that even though he's always quiet, he cares.

Law

Law is similar to Crocodile in his lack of emotional expression and limited speech. He is always busy, struggling with his parasitic thoughts and taking care of his patients. Finding some private time with you is a challenge for him. 

If you run into Law with excitement about your passion or new hyper-focus, he may feel embarrassed because it's not the perfect time for him. Autism is something he knows about, and he is an intelligent and educated man. And, he wants to make you feel safe and comfortable. 

"I'll be yours in a moment, y/n-ya."

He has a complete understanding of you and is an excellent observer. The way you're already blushing, fidgeting, and swallowing nervously. He can even hear your heart racing. So first thing first, he will tell you to take a deep breath. After all, he’s a doctor. 

"What do you wanna talk about?" 

As Crocodile, he's a great listener. When you're full of passion and excitement, he thinks you're cute. He likes the sound of your voice. He loves when you want to find him and talk about your passion, because you're offering him a break from his work. If you weren't there, he would be stuck either in work or in his own head. When he's with you, he can forget about his dream of avenging. You're his safe place, truly. 

He doesn't speak a lot. But he is listening.M and asks questions from time to time.

"Yn-ya, there's been no urge. Take your time." And if you're stuttering a lot, he would just say nothing because it's pointless to make a remark, as long as he can understand what you're saying, he will never say something about your elocution. 

"That's interesting, where did you learn that much?" 

Law is a curious and intelligent man, so he likes to learn more about almost everything. If it can help him with his plans or maybe his patients, it might even be beneficial for him.

During your bedtime together, he would ask you to talk about your passions. The way you talk and laugh is like his own lullaby. When you speak, he can find inner peace because it shuts down all the voices in his head. He might fall asleep sometimes when he feels tired. It's just that you're providing him with some relief. When he wakes up, he would be deeply sorry. "So, yesterday, you stopped at this precise point… what were you trying to say after?"

Kid 

Kid is so goddamn loud. And really passionate. He's focused on his goal of becoming the next PK and has loved mechanics and robotics since childhood. He would be aggressively sweet, like frowning when he notices how stressed and nervous you act towards him. "Hey, Y/N, why are you so fucking nervous? Just speak" 

He thinks you're cute with your cheeks all red. On the flip side, he's a bit confused. Why are you nervous? Is it his fault? He knows he's loud, hard to love and rough, but he cares about people he likes. Have you seen how he acts with Killer and his crew? He loves his people. 

And, as a punk, Kid is marginalized. He knows a lot about being different, and if you feel ashamed about it, he can understand. "Come on y/n, let's find a private place" 

Grab your wrist in an aggressive yet sweet way and lead you to his workshop or bedroom. He sits you on the bed with his arms crossed and eyebrows raised. "Now we're alone." 

So, you start talking nervously. It doesn't matter if the topic is interesting to him or not, he will listen. Because as I said, Kid is a passionate. Everything can be made interesting by passionate people. So, yeah, talk about birds, cakes, plushies, or anything stuck in your head. He will like it. And he enjoys the sound of your voice. He’s even flattered to be your special someone, the one you’re looking for when you need to talk. It fuels his ego and pride.

He will deal with your stuttering as he deals with Killer's laugh. He'll shut up and smash all the people making fun of you if there's something you hate about yourself. You're his s/o, no one can laugh at you and continue to live without facing his rage.

"Goddamn, slow down" yes, not the best with kindness, but at least he's paying attention. 

He wouldn't help but think you're really cute, with your eyes shining as you finally manage to relax and express how passionate you are. He understands your excitement because when he talks about robots, music, punk or weapons, he's exactly the same. 

Kid is not the most culturally advanced, it depends on the topic. He enjoys learning new things thanks to you or Killer, it's important for him to be credible, and he hates looking inferior in front of others. 

"See, there was no reason to be that nervous" When you finished speaking.

Just poke your cheek, grin and leave a mark of lipstick on your front-head before returning to his activities and yelling proudly to everyone he knows everything about the subject you just info-dump about.

Ace

The sweetest. Ace's personality is both compassionate and protective. He grew up with Luffy, so passionate and talkative people are something he knows a lot about. As he's proud of his brother, he's proud of you and can listen to everything you say for hours. 

"Y/N, is there something wrong?" 

Yeah, he would immediately notice that you're starting to get nervous. His first reflex is to find a more private place, if that's not already the case. He wants to do everything to make you feel safe and loved. If it's winter or just cold, he would even use his DF to warm the room. As soon as you're all comfortable, he'll run his fingers through your hair. "You know I will always listen." 

Ace doesn't speak a lot about what's on his mind. He's way too stubborn and always struggles with guilt due to the blood running through his veins. So he enjoys having someone like you. Your voice is soothing him, and he loves how passionate and honest you are always. 

For him, it's even amazing and unreal to have someone talk to him. You're treating him like a normal human and not a failure, because he feels like it often: unloved, unwanted and unworthy.

"Sweetie, you don't have to rush, we have the time, I'll always listen" if you start to speak too fast.

Would entwine his fingers with yours when you're stuttering and laugh heartily at your jokes. You remind him of his dear little brother. He feels lucky to have you by his side. 

"I could listen for hours." And he's totally honest.

If someone makes fun of you, he's truly mad. You are as significant to him as his brother or Whitebeard. And if someone makes fun of his loved-one, Ace is merciless and really impulsive.

"Please, say more about this specific point!", "Oh, really, that's so funny?" He wants to make you talk even more. Until you're finally relaxed and able to speak without stuttering, blushing, or anything else. He doesn't mind it, even if it lasts for hours. Once you're done, he has his usual sweet smile on his face. "That was so interesting, why are you so embarrassed?" 

So you explain to him that you feel embarrassed about your info dump because you're afraid to annoy people or talk too fast etc." It's alright, you won't bother me." 

You're his sunshine. He feels loved with you. He feels more than just the son of someone; he's just Ace, and that's the most beautiful thing in the world for him.

Such a sweet boy. ♡

[delqcate]

hi angel!!! im aware of how super busy you are rn, but I can't get like frenemies scott barringer and reader out of my head, imagine it, like he's so annoyed by everything she does, she's the total opposite of him, sweet and kind, but also the sarcastic angry feminist, and he's the self-righteous football captain arsehole.

But no matter what he does, she's constantly stuck in his head, and it's kinda like the song "you look so pretty, pretty like the sun, i could watch forever while you shine on everyone" and he's so in love and a little insecure, which he covers up with this pompous arrogant fboy persona

anyways, you're writing gives me life more than anything! when i first discovered your flannel shirt fic on scott, i became obsessed and stalked your profile and obsessively read through all your fanfics, hayden characters or not, I read them all, and im head over heels in love w u :) you genuinely write the best fluff ever, like your my favourite blog for fluff, like don't get me wrong smut is cute and that, but god i would kill for some forehead kisses and hayden fluff

because i love you.

scott barringer x reader

anon you own my whole heart ilysm!!! you're soso incredibly sweet and being your favorite fluff writer??? such an incredible honor 🥹 i'm sorry it took me a while to get to writing this and i feel so bad cause i feel like i just didn't have enough inspiration for this so it's all messy but I hope it's still good. scott and shelby don't get together here but they're still good friends

summary: you and scott don't necessarily hate each other, but you can't tolerate both that much either. after a plan gone wrong, turns out there's a reason why.

warnings/cw: swearing, kissing (i don't know if that's warnings but yeah), fluff fluff fluff

word count: 1.9k

Where does Scott even begin with you? The Cliffhanger's sweetheart, the epitome of the sun in this hell hole, is his friend. Well, sort of.

Because every time he was near you, it felt like he was constantly basking in the sun, yet at the same time, he was warmed up by everything you did, from your smile to your voice. It was almost like he was constantly taunted.

He couldn't get enough of you, though. You were everything he's ever wanted—the warmth and love of another—and yet he still seems to be pushing you away.

But then that all changes when a little surprise is left on one of the class boards one morning when Scott and the other Cliffhangers are called to meet up with Peter and Sophie.

Scott walks into the classroom, wearing a sweater he just threw on due to the cold, and looks at the board in confusion. "Morp? Wh-what's a morp?" His brow was furrowed, and he frankly didn't care too much about decoding it until Auggie followed from behind him. "Oh, cool, a prom?"

Scott looks at Auggie, realizing everyone else is inside already. His eyes land on you, and he suddenly can't focus on anything but you. Everyone was taking a seat, and it took him a moment to realize you sat with him until a hand waved at his face.

"Scott, y'there?" Your voice rings out, and he looks at you, his face brooding as always. "Why? What's up?" He clears his throat and focuses his gaze on you. Despite hating you, he seems to be interested in what you have to say. Probably just sucking it up so it would be over.

You look at him, and suddenly you find yourself drawn to his eyes. Do they seem more blue than usual lately, or have they always been this way? But you don't have time to ponder about that because now it’s his turn to snap you out of your thoughts.

"Hey, are you there?" He gives you a small smirk, and you playfully roll your eyes. “Yeah, sorry,” you say, clearing your throat and resting your head on your palm. “Sophie and Peter paired us for morp planning.”

His eyes widen slightly, but he immediately covers them up with his emotionless stare again. “Why us? ," he asks, sounding annoyed. “Dunno,” you reply. “Probably ‘to build a stronger relationship between us’,” you say, playfully mocking what Peter constantly tells everyone whenever there’s a team activity.

He let out a soft scoff but couldn't help but let a smirk form on his lips. He was starting to let his guard down, something he rarely does around people; besides Shelby, she relates to him more than anyone. "Yeah, all that bullshit."

You nod and chuckle, watching as he bounces his leg, a habit you share with him. "All we have to do is plan the music, so it shouldn't be too bad. They're letting us use Peter's office and a couple more gadgets, I think." You shrug, but all you could think of was Scott.

Spending time alone with him in a room for days on end sounded both eventful and terrifying. But at least it was him instead of anyone else; at least you could get some peace and quiet for once.

————————————————————————

It had been days since you and Scott were assigned to make the playlist, and despite the bickering and constant grogginess you two would feel the next day, it was bearable. It caused something in Scott to brew—something he thought he could keep in, but it was just waiting to burst.

Scott dragged Shelby away to a corner in the common room—not the best place to have a private conversation, but it'll do.

"Let me guess," Shelby starts, her gaze landing on Ophelia talking to Peter and back at Scott. "You need advice to ask her out?" Scott scrunches up his face, annoyed but thinking about it. "Well, yeah," he says after a moment.

She chuckles and looks over at you again, trying to think of anything. "Morp's tomorrow, Scott. How are you sure Auggie or someone else asked her out?" Scott suddenly seemed upset at the thought, however. "You think Auggie has more of a chance than me?" His angry question was a little too loud, loud enough to catch your attention, at least.

Shelby quickly looks away and narrows her eyes at Scott, slapping his arm playfully. "Will you keep it down, you idiot?" He whines and leans against the wall, crossing his arms and staring at you from afar. "How am I ever going to ask her out? I'm just the cocky football star, a pompous asshole fuckboy. Every bad thing you could think of."

She sighs and moves closer, taking his hand and watching his expression before continuing, "Sure, you can be a complete asshole." He scoffs and looks at the floor. "Great way to start that off," he muttered. She rolls her eyes and continues with, "But all that matters is what they think of you. You wanna go all out and be stupid with your promposal? Go ahead. I'll be there every stupid step in the way."

He moves his gaze on her and mutters, "Stop calling me stupid. But, thanks."

————————————————————————

The plan was perfect. You and Shelby would be hanging out together, saying some good stuff about Scott, and Scott would play football with Auggie. Auggie would throw the ball at you, and he would save you. He would tie that to some smooth way to ask you out, but he would worry about that later. What was the worst that could happen?

Scott watches nervously as Shelby and you sit at the bleachers, taking a deep breath as Shelby discreetly nods and Scott starts to play. Your gaze moves to Scott, and a small smile grows on your face. Seeing Scott play football was cute to you. Despite being an ex-football captain, he still never lost his love for the sport, and you admire him for that.

Shelby notices your stare and chuckles, looking at Scott and back at you. "You eyeing Scott?" Your cheeks heat up and your eyes land on her, shaking your head as your face gets all flushed up. "No- well yeah, but not in that way! He's my friend; I just want to watch him."

Your gaze moves back to the two boys playing, and you swear you saw Scott wink at you, but maybe it was your mind playing tricks on you; he probably got something in his eye.

But you didn't even have time to think because the football started flying towards you, and Scott's amazing plan came crashing down as soon as the ball hit him right in the face.

"Scott!" You yell out and rush down to him with Shelby. He lets out a loud groan and covers his face. He's never felt so much pain and embarrassment before. "Auggie, fuck!" He groans out. "I didn't mean to, I- I'm sorry!" Auggie frowns and looks at the two, watching as you take Scott into your arms and prop your leg up for him to rest on.

"Shit- Scott, move your hand." You frown and try to move his hand, watching as a crowd of people form, someone rushing to grab Peter. Scott whines and shakes his head, saying something about how it really hurt, but it's muffled from his hands.

"C'mon, please? I swear the pain will be gone soon; I need to see how bad it is." You were trying to stay calm for the both of you, and after a moment, he moves his hands away to reveal a bleeding nose and some tears.

You wince and help him stand up. With the help of Shelby and Auggie, you guys safely bring him to the girls rooms and onto your bed, hurrying off to the bathroom while the two find something that could help Scott besides a wet rag.

You return to him on the bed and move his hand away. A small hiss escapes you, and you start to clean him up. The silence was killing you after a while, so you mumbled out, "That was stupid, y'know?"

He looks at you with an annoyed expression and scoffs, trying not to move too much as you clean his nose and check if it is broken. "Well, I'm sorry for saving your life," he says sarcastically, clearly upset that you didn't appreciate him saving you. Maybe his plan was just stupid.

"I mean, I appreciate it, but look at you now." You frown and place the rag on your side table, grabbing some tissues to clean the spot better. "Why'd you do it? Ruin your oh-so-perfect face for me?" He smirks and looks at you. "You like my face, huh?" You roll your eyes, and he lets out a small laugh as you punch his arm.

"Sorry, I couldn't help it." He lets his laughter die down and listens to the two of you breathing. It calmed him down to hear your breath, especially because he definitely needed to calm down. He took a deep breath and calmly let out, "Because I love you."

You stop your arm and move your gaze from his nose to his gaze, which was locked onto yours. You couldn't tell if it was because he was frozen in embarrassment or because he wanted to show you he really meant it; either way, it left you shocked.

How does he like you? He's made it very clear that he has some hatred towards you , so it didn't make sense. "But the way you act around me—" he quickly interrupted you. "It's because I'm insecure." He sighs and looks down at his hands, feeling the embarrassment creep up on him.

"You're just so- so gorgeous. You make everyone smile and laugh; it's like the goddamn sun. You shine so bright, and I can't help but feel this jealousy towards you because everyone gets to experience all of that." Although he didn't outright say it, it was clear to you that he was jealous, and it was incredibly adorable.

You let out a soft laugh, and at first he thought you were laughing at him, but a small smile formed on his lips when he realized you were laughing with him. "Well, if it makes you feel any better, I feel like I shine brighter when I'm with you. You make me sparkle, I guess."

He chuckles and moves a little closer, sensing the change in tension, and he was sure you did too because you moved closer. "Sparkle, huh? What are you, a vampire?" He smirks and wraps his arm around you, making you roll your eyes and cup his cheek. "Just shut up and kiss me."

"Yes, ma'am." He smirks wider and kisses you gently, immediately crash-landing into heaven as soon as he feels your lips. They were soft and felt heavenly, just like he imagined. The kiss grew deeper but didn't last too long as someone threw a box of bandages at them.

Scott pulls away in annoyance but quickly gets flustered as soon as he sees Shelby and Auggie; he completely forgets they were coming back. "Congratulations, lovebirds!" Shelby smirks and moves her gaze between Scott and you. "But do us all a favor and get a room, will you?"

You let out a small chuckle and quickly helped Scott clean up, hearing the pair's footsteps as they headed outside. Despite both of you being complete opposites, Something told you it would all work out in the long run.

taglist: none!

[glassrowboat]

Childe. Where is Childe. You would do him justice.

Falling In The Snow. Childe.

Okay, I... actually, I don't think I know who you are. Tbh, I don't have that big of an interest in Childe, but given my love for writing banter, I could Def see where you're coming from, Anon.

This is not proofread

Your feet stopped as you heard a voice calling out for you leaving you with one buried in the snow and the other hanging in the air only to be forced to the ground as a sudden weight chambered against your back. It hit you suddenly drawing out a groan from your already chapped lips as you struggled to manage the little monster claiming you as his jungle gym.

“Hi, Teucer.”

You heard him chirp back a hello as his tiny hands settled on your shoulders to grab onto your giant puffer jacket.

“And where's your big brother?”

“Uh, around?”

You heard as your feet stepped into the snow again, forcing it to crunch under you. With each step, a new footprint was left behind, your soles leaving an obvious track you could only hope Childe would get the hint to follow as you headed to your home. Given the cold and the sniffling in your ear, you could already tell some hot chocolate that would be appreciated by all three of you once you were inside those cozy, warm walls.

“So you ran off again.”

He was already denying your words, but with one pointed look his hat covered head was hanging low as he admitted defeat. “Maybe I did.”

It seems both brothers were completely hopeless when it came to sitting still, then.

“Well, if you're going to be naughty, it seems you're going to have to sit in the corner with nothing to do but shiver.” Fixing your hold on him, you shifted Teucer up higher along your back. Mittens, apparently, weren't a help in carrying an overactive child around. “My mom used to make me do the same all the time.”

“That sounds….”

“Horrible? It was. She wouldn't even give me any toys to occupy myself with, either. Can you believe it?” You asked, trying to get a proper amount of horrified shock to your voice even when the cold was turning your tongue into a popsicle.

“Awful.” Teucer agreed.

“And that's the punishment awaiting you when we get back, kiddo.”

You could feel him wrestling against your back the minute his sentence was set, trying to get free of your hold and almost succeeding too as you cursed under your breath when pulling him back to rest against you again. Arms wrapped around your neck. “I don't like that idea very much. Can't we just say I got lost?”

“The same kid who managed to go all the way to Liyue to find his brother got lost in his own hometown? What bullshit.”

Immediately, you recognized your mistake as Teucer gasped. Hands going over his mouth at your curse despite the fact you know his older sisters and brothers have said much worse in front of him; you have too. “You know, mom and dad say you're not allowed to say those words.”

Grumbling to yourself you huffed out an “I know.”

“So…” For a moment you thought you didn't catch what he said over your footsteps, but there he was leaning over your shoulder to ensure you saw his cheeky little smile framed by freckles and a red face. Like this, there was no denying his relation to Childe, not when you saw him in the same twitch of Teucer's lips and wrinkle in his nose. “Say you don't give me a punishment, and I don't tell anyone you said a bad word in front of me. Again.”

And his cheekiness certainly matched a certain ginger.

“You brat.”

“Does that mean I'm in the clear?”

Your foot kicked out a bit more snow with your next step. The flakes flew up in the air only to fall back down to join the piles on the sidewalk your neighbors had shoveled out of their way that morning. “Childe may let you get off easy, but you'll still get something coming to you.”

Your home was in sight by the time you finally settled on a just punishment, the old wooden door already waiting to greet you and welcome you inside as you approached it.

“I won't subject you to the corner, but you're not getting any whipped cream or marshmallows in your hot coco.”

For a moment you were expecting Teucer to try and hassle you even more only for his little hand to reach out and try to shake yours as he declared it to be a “deal” only to realize you couldn't quite shake it when you were giving him a piggyback ride.

With a sigh, you lowered him down, took his hand, and shook on it.

“Now go inside, you scamp.”

Before you even had a chance to chase him inside, following after his fit of giggles to run around the sofa in circles like you've done so many times in the past you saw Teucer's arm raising up and waving through the chilly air. “Ajax! Come on! They agreed to make hot chocolate for us!”

Your head turned to see another head of ginger hair, ever so bright against the white backdrop of Snezhnaya's endless winter it drew your eye with ease. He waved back, easily treading through the snow covered ground like it was a field of grass instead of the very thing you had been trudging through for the last five minutes.

It was only when a flake of snow landed on your nose were you able to pull your attention away from Childe and his casual stride over to you both.

“Go and get inside, kid, or I'll make sure your drink is as cold as ice.”

“Why, so you and my brother can do that gross thing where you kiss and-”

Before he even had a chance to finish that sentence, you were pushing Tuecer. inside your home. He stumbled at first, trying to adjust to the sudden force he was subjected to only to turn back around to try and say what was undoubtedly another comment about you and his brother before you shut the door in his face.

“Kids.” You huffed.

“Kids.” Childe said as he finally made his way over, a cheer to his voice as he smiled down at you.

“Can't live with them, can't live without them.” You stood back up to your full height as you spoke, mitten covered hands trying to brush yourself off to avail as once one layer of snow was gone a new came from the sky to replace it.

“I think he's a joy to be around, even with his adventurous nature. If anything, it's a good reason to get out there to stretch your legs as you try and keep up with him.”

“Of course you'd say that.”

Childe’s hands came to peek out of his jacket, breaking past the layer of black fur you had no doubt was keeping him nice and toasty to reach up and fix your - or his- scarf. The red fabric was brought up to your cheeks, brushing against them. “And I'd say you're a little thief, but we'll call it even if I get a kiss before we head inside.”

“I don't know. That's a big ask.”

The scarf rustled again, but this time, it was accompanied by Childe pulling you closer. His gloved hands held tight onto the fabric, ensuring you couldn't budge an inch when his head ducked down to press a kiss to your snot dripping nose.

A tiny part of you hoped he regretted that, but given the way his eyes where shining, you couldn't help but think he didn't.

“That wasn't even a real kiss.”

“Oh, so now it's not a big ask if it's what you want?” Childe asked, a single brow raising until it hid behind his mess of a haircut. You'd need to trim it for him again.

“Exactly.”

“Well, I suppose if it's what the lady wishes.”

Before you could even try and wipe your nose off on a handkerchief, mainly for his sake, Childe’s hand was resting on your lower back, running over your jacket to pull you in close to him as your lips met. He was warm. It had you stepping in closer to him as he kissed you, and you didn't hesitate to linger even when your lips parted and you were once again greeted with a brilliant smile framed by freckles and red cheeks. The only difference was that this one happened to be your favorite grin in the whole of Teyvat that never failed to have you smiling back.

For a moment, you two stood there, taking in each other's presence as the cold started to seep into your bones from staying still for long until his laugh broke the silence.

“So, hot chocolate?”

“Yeah, hot chocolate.” You repeated as you pulled him through your front door.

There could always be more kisses when you were both under a blanket and curled up on your sofa together with a mug in both your hands.

[runnning-outof-time]

Worth Breaking Plans For | Tommy Shelby x Reader

Request: yes by anonymous

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x reader

Summary: Tommy Shelby never thought he'd willingly go to see a ballet…that was until he found out that (Y/N) was performing in one. (Y/N) (Y/L/N) never thought she was someone worth breaking plans for…that was until Tommy came into her life.

Warnings: drinking and one bad word

Word Count: 4238

A/N: I’ve got another long one for ya here…the words just wouldn’t stop haha. This one was super fun to write. I hope I added enough ballerina elements for you, anon. If you haven’t got your fill by the end of it though, @padfootdaredmetoo has an amazing ballerina!reader series that you should check out! Enjoy! :)

PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!

Comment/Message me if you’d like to be tagged in future stories similar to this one!

(Y/N) just barely had the time to take in her surroundings before she was having a flute of champagne thrust in her direction. "Here," the drink was accompanied by the words of her friend, Lou, "have a few of these and you'll be settled in in no time."

"Thank you," (Y/N) gingerly replied, accepting the glass and bringing it up to her lips so that she could take a sip of the bubbly liquid. She then smiled at her friends, who were intently watching for any microexpression she would share with them. "It's good," she told them, feeling a little silly for even saying that in the first place.

"Good," Julia affirmed, a smile present on her face as she watched her friend take another sip, "let's get into this party now!" she cheered, taking hold of (Y/N)'s hand so that she, and Lou, could lead her deeper into the establishment.

(Y/N) took that time to look around in awe. She hadn't attended many of these parties - as if that hadn't been obvious enough - and was eager to soak in every aspect of it that she could. Spending time with a few friends from her company at either her flat or a smaller venue was more her speed, but that didn't mean she wasn't excited to see the other half of the spectrum.

"Did you hear what Lou said, (Y/N)?" the sound of Julia's voice broke into her thoughts, making her focus on her friends again.

"I'm sorry, I didn't," she admitted, a sheepish smile present on her face. They'd been here for a handful of minutes now and yet there were details of the venue and revelry that she still hadn't caught onto. She didn't feel too bad for being lost in the atmosphere of it all.

"I was saying that I've gotten word about there being some rather prominent figures at this party," Lou repeated herself, a grin forming on her face.

"Prominent in what sense?" (Y/N) couldn't help but ask. She had a right to, considering that she and her two friends were members of one of the most prestigious ballet companies that ran in London and its surrounding areas. Technically they could be considered part of the 'prominent figures' being talked about.

"I've heard everything from entertainers, to politicians, and even..." Julia trailed off, glancing around before she leaned closer to the other two women, her grin growing as she went to finish off her statement, "gangsters."

"Why did you say it in that way?" (Y/N) couldn't help but giggle at her friend's delivery of the word.

"Because the thought of it is so utterly...interesting," Julia responded.

“And exhilarating,” Lou added.

"Wouldn’t it be fun to meet a gangster?" Julia finished off with a question, making Lou nod, a giddy grin present on her face as she added a few more words of agreement.

"Hmm...I suppose," (Y/N) aired more on the coy side of things, looking out at the sea of people that were attending the party. She found it slightly hard to believe that there were actual gangsters scattered amongst these innocent looking party-goers. Maybe it'd only be those fake kinds...like the ones you'd see in the pictures.

"Come on ladies, let's find ourselves a gangster!" Julia cheered, obviously not letting the distinction bog her mind down. She clapped her hands together before leading the other two even further into the venue.

(Y/N) took that time to do some more looking around, her eyes dancing from the band, to the extravagant decorations, to the many people who seemed to be having the time of their lives. Amidst the looking, her eyes stopped on a man...one who immediately stood out from the rest of the people she'd been watching so far. She couldn't help but let her eyes linger on him for a longer amount of time. He just looked so...interesting, for lack of better words, and she found herself entranced by him.

She let her eyes linger on him until Lou broke into her thoughts - yet again - this time going on about seeing a familiar face that she wanted to go speak to. So with slight dismay, she broke her stare and followed her friends.

"Ada Thorne! It really is you!" Lou exclaimed as the three women approached another one, who had brown hair and a well-dressed figure.

"Lou! It's so good to see you!" the woman replied in a similar fashion to the initial greeting, a wide smile forming on her face. "Goodness, you've brought friends as well," she added, her eyes focusing on the other two ladies.

"Yes, I have," Lou answered with a smile, "this is Julia and (Y/N), they're both in the same company as me," she then went about the introductions.

"It's nice to meet you ladies. Lou always goes on and on about the women she performs with...it's so nice to finally put some faces to the stories," Ada said, smiling as she spoke.

"So how have things been with you?" Lou then moved to the small talk portion of the conversation, her eyebrows raised as she awaited a response.

(Y/N) figured that she didn't really need to be a part of the conversation anymore, so she happily went back to people watching. Much to her upset, she couldn't find the man she'd been fixated on earlier, no matter how hard she looked for him. That didn't mean that she didn't still enjoy taking in her surroundings once more.

She stayed locked into her own world until the feeling of Julia jabbing her side brought her out of it. "Goodness, what's that for?" she asked her friend, her eyes snapping to the other woman as she sent her a glare.

"You've been in your own world while we're being introduced to someone here," she hissed, nodding her head to the left to indicate that someone else had joined the group in the meantime.

(Y/N) was a bit nervous to look, feeling bashful all of a sudden for not having proper party manners. But she had to look, because it quickly became apparent that the conversation wasn't going on without it. So she did, and the sight that was awaiting her made her mouth go dry in seconds. Standing before her was the man...the one that she'd been transfixed on earlier. She suddenly hoped that her jaw hadn't gone slack at the realization as she scrambled to think of something to say.

"You'll have to forgive me...I like to take in my surroundings whenever I'm able to," she said to the man, a sheepish smile forming on her face.

"All is forgiven," the man brushed her apology off without second thought. The gruffness in his voice moved her in ways that she truly hadn't been moved before. That, coupled with the intensity of his ocean blue eyes that were currently focused on her, made her feel like her knees could give out at any moment.

"My name's (Y/N). (Y/N) (Y/L/N)," (Y/N) then decided to introduce herself, figuring that the group had already gotten past that step and was waiting for her to catch up.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, (Y/N)," the man said with a slight, greeting-typed nod before continuing, "my name's Tommy. Tommy Shelby," he then offered up his name, along with his hand for her to shake.

"Pleasure to meet you as well, Tommy," she responded to him, accepting the handshake with a kind smile.

"Tommy's my brother," Ada then entered the conversation, making (Y/N) remember that there were others around her, and that she wasn't just standing by herself with this man. "He says he's in town on business, but I think he's come to keep tabs on me," she added, a grin forming on her face as she took a playful jab at her sibling.

"It's nice to meet you, Tommy," Julia offered a greeting similar to (Y/N)'s, which made her wonder if maybe introductions hadn't been completed yet.

"These ladies all belong to one of the finest ballet companies this city has to offer," Ada then gave her brother some more information on the women he'd just been introduced to, her words making Lou playfully chide her.

Small talk re-commenced then, and (Y/N) tried to stay with it for the sake of not making another awkward mistake. She found it hard to be completely focused though, because no matter what she did, she couldn't quite keep her eyes off of Tommy.

——

"Well this is a surprise," Ada remarked when she opened the door to find her brother on the other side of it.

"Do you have plans for this evening?" Tommy asked, deciding to skip the greetings and get to the reason he was standing outside her door.

"I don't," Ada, thankfully, answered without much thought, "is there something you need me for?"

"I need you to come with me," Tommy continued, fishing his watch out of its pocket so that he could make sure he was still on time.

"Where?" now she was answering like the Ada he knew.

"There's a show going on at the theatre...I wanted to go to it and figured you'd might want to come," he gave her some vague details.

"And what is this show exactly?" she asked, tilting her head to the side in a questioning manner.

"Just come with me, Ada," he answered in a dismissive tone, not exactly wanting to play twenty questions at this moment.

Ada pursed her lips, not happy that her brother was being abrupt with her. She took a few moments to think his proposal over, secretly loving how the wait was driving him crazy. "I'll come," she finally agreed to his plan, "just let me make sure that Karl can be watched first," she added, turning and going back into the house to find that live-in nanny and tell her that she was going out.

—

"I never thought there'd come a day where Tommy Shelby would willingly go to a ballet," Ada commented with a smirk as she and Tommy found their seats in the front row of the upper balcony. She'd been sending these little jabs his way since she got the program and realized what show he was bringing them to.

"Ada," Tommy spoke in a warning tone, having heard enough of her teasing.

"Fine, I'll stop," she conceded, although she was trying her best to withhold her giggles.

Tommy just shook his head and turned his attention to the stage's curtains. He could see from the corner of his eye that Ada had opened the program and started flipping through it. He was thankful that she'd now found something else to do. But he wasn't out of the woods just yet.

"Which of the ladies is it?" she asked after a few minutes had passed, her words making him turn to look at her with furrowed brows. "Of the women we met at the party...which one is it?" she added more clarification.

Tommy went to speak, but the house lights dimming stopped - saved - him from having to answer. A round of applause coursed through the theatre as the curtains were pulled aside and the performance began. Tommy spent the next hour or so keeping his eyes fixed on the woman he hadn't been able to rid his mind of since he last saw her at the party.

—

"Oh my, this is so lovely," (Y/N) cooed as she accepted the single flower and hand-drawn picture from one of the girls that had come backstage to meet her, "thank you so much!"

"I drew the picture myself," the girl boasted, her words making (Y/N) look at the picture to see that there were two ballerinas drawn on it: one bigger and one smaller. "I want to be a ballerina one day when I grow up," the girl added, a toothy smile forming on her face.

"You keep practicing and you may just be on stage with us one day," (Y/N) told her, an encouraging smile present on her face.

The group of girls said their goodbyes then, their mothers calling them back over so that they could leave. That was when (Y/N) looked up to see a familiar figure leaning against the wall not too far away. The breath got stuck in her throat as she became focused on him; feeling the exact same feelings she'd experienced at the party. Goodness, he just had this aura to him.

"Tommy," she hated that she said his name a little too eagerly, "I...I would have never expected to see you here," she couldn't help but voice her surprise.

"I was in town and figured I'd come to see a show," he brushed her statement off with a slight shrug of his shoulders after he pushed himself off of the wall to move closer to her.

"Did you come alone?" she just had to ask.

"No, Ada came as well. She went off to find your friend...Lou, I believe it was," he answered, glancing down at the items she was holding then. "Had I known you were accepting gifts, I would have brought one," he said, motioning to the flowers and bears she had in her arms.

"Oh no...that's not necessary," she brushed him off, trying to ignore the giddy feeling she was now getting in her stomach.

"You did well," he complimented her performance, tucking his hands into his pockets as he spoke.

"Thank you," (Y/N) accepted the compliment with a smile. She looked down at the things she was holding then, feeling the heat rise within her more with each second that they held eye contact.

"You know..." Tommy started, clearing his throat before continuing, "you should at least let me take you for a drink; since I came here empty-handed."

His words brought (Y/N)'s eyes back up to his in a flash, and he most certainly caught the look of surprise she was wearing before she tried hard to hide it. "Oh you don't have to do that," she tried to brush his offer off.

"No, I insist," he held steady, "it'd be a way to celebrate a successful show...my first ballet," he added, the final words of his sentence making her let out a stifled laugh.

"You're truly offering?" she checked with him before giving her final answer.

"I am," he nodded, a smile playing on his lips.

She had to bite back the smile that was threatening to form as she took a moment's pause. If she answered too soon, it would have looked like she was overly excited for this opportunity. "I'd like that then," she told him, hoping that her giddiness wasn't plastered clear across her face. "I need to quickly put these in the dressing room," she added, raising her arms slightly to call attention to the gifts she'd been holding.

"I'll be waiting here," he told her, nodding as she turned and walked towards the dressing rooms.

She was unable to get to them without being stopped by Julia first. "Is that the man from the party, (Y/N)?" her friend asked, her eyes swapping between (Y/N) and Tommy.

"It is," (Y/N) answered, again hoping that her giddiness wasn't too apparent.

"What's he doing here?"

"He's offered to take me for drinks," (Y/N) couldn't help but feel proud as she spoke.

A grin spread across Julia's face as she heard her friend's response, "oh so it's like that?" she questioned, wiggling her eyebrows.

"Not exactly like that," (Y/N) was quick to brush her off, "he's just being kind."

"You'll have to tell me all about it at rehearsals tomorrow...we'll see how kind he ended up being," Julia stated, winking as she put emphasis on the word 'kind'.

"It's not like that, Julia!" (Y/N) insisted, her eyebrows raised as she stressed her point in a harsh whisper.

"Don't keep your man waiting." (Y/N)'s statement was ignored, and Julia's grin only grew as she spoke, ending off with giving the other woman a friendly push towards the dressing room.

(Y/N) let out a huff as she went to quickly put the gifts she'd received down. She then hurried to get changed out of her costume before grabbing her things and heading out of the dressing room. Tommy was standing right where she left him, and she sent him a smile as she approached him. He asked her if she was ready, and she nodded, allowing the two to leave the theatre and go wherever they'd be having drinks.

—

Conversation came easily between the two as they settled in at the bar of one of the more prestigious clubs in the city. (Y/N) would have loved to look around and get lost in her surroundings but, well...she had more interesting things to look at.

They learned a good bit about each other as they sat and talked. (Y/N) told Tommy all about her rise to the company that she was dancing for now, and Tommy in turn told (Y/N) of how he made his way out of Birmingham, coming from nothing to now dealing with some of the heads of the business sphere. He also made hints at some other avenues that he's simultaneously working in, but didn't really elaborate on them. (Y/N) truly didn't need details though...she'd become so enthralled by this man that she was sure it'd take something dire to make her want to leave him.

So enthralled, in fact, that she did something that would be considered rather bold by her standards and invited him back to her flat for a nightcap. Tommy, who was also enjoying himself, accepted the invitation with no hesitation, then going to pay off their tab so that they could leave the club for the building she lived in.

Things transitioned more than smoothly to her flat. The shift in the energy between them became increasingly more noticeable the closer they got to the building, and neither said a word as they rode the elevator up to her floor, instead choosing to let their eyes do the talking as they held each other's gazes.

If she was being honest, (Y/N) couldn't wait much longer to get him behind the privacy of her door. The second she did, her hands found the lapels of his suit jacket so that she could bring him to her and press their lips together in a haste kiss. Tommy accepted it with a matched eagerness, holding her tight to his body as he deepened it.

"I'm sorry...that was a bit forward of me," (Y/N) panted once they'd pulled away. She couldn't mask the bashfulness that was coming on once her mind caught up to her actions.

"Don't apologize," Tommy told her, taking a chance to take in her features at this new closeness, "I quite liked it." A slight laugh left her lips as he finished speaking, one that sounded like music to his ears.

"Would you like something to drink?" she asked him then.

"Sure."

(Y/N) nodded before she glanced down to where she was still gripping his lapels. She exhaled a breath of a laugh before releasing them and smoothing them back to their previous state. Tommy let go of her waist then, and she quickly turned to head to the kitchen so that he wouldn't see her frown at the loss of contact. He followed her to the kitchen, not really wanting to leave her side either.

"Did you enjoy the performance today?" she asked him as she grabbed a bottle and two glasses.

"I did," he answered after having to recall how the night started. It felt like it happened so long ago at this point. "You didn't have much of a part in it though," he pointed out then.

"Yeah," she answered, a bit of a lopsided smile present as she went about pouring the drinks. "I did audition for the lead in our next show though..." she paused, sliding one glass towards him before she looked up with a smile, "and I got the part!" she couldn't help but voice her happiness to this man she'd only met a week ago.

"Yeah? When is the show?" he asked, genuine curiosity present in his voice.

"It's in two weeks. On the twentieth," a fire started to burn in her stomach at the thought of him coming to see her perform again.

"Fuck," he breathed as he looked down at the glass.

This was a response she was not expecting, and it confused her. "What? Is something wrong?" she asked, all of the excitement now gone.

"I'll be out of town that day, on business," he told her, his simple sentence effectively breaking her heart. Why had she gotten her hopes up?

"Oh," she couldn't help but voice her upset, glancing up at him before she took a drink.

She looked at him again as she set the glass down on the counter, trying not to let this turn of events spoil what had been an otherwise amazing evening. Hell, she had this insanely handsome man in her flat...who was she to stand around and mope over something she couldn't control? Tommy was taking that time to look her over too, and she couldn't help but love the feeling of his eyes on her.

"We still have tonight though..." she spoke again after a few moments had passed, keeping her eyes steady on him, watching his every move.

He let his eyes trail over her face again, taking in every inch of it. He licked his lips as he thought about the magnitude of her statement. "We do have tonight," he answered then, letting her lead the interaction.

She couldn't stop from biting on her bottom lip as she thought of how to word her next question. The energy coursing between them was almost palpable at this point, and she wondered how she was able to shift so quickly from disappointment to desire just by standing in his presence. It felt like ages before she spoke again, a hint of curiosity now sparkling in her eyes: "would you like to come to bed with me?"

Tommy didn't wait ages to give his response. He broke the distance between them in seconds, his hands finding the sides of her face so that he could pull her into a deep kiss.

The kiss alone buried the upset of him not being able to attend her performance, and if it was a precursor of what would come, (Y/N) knew that this would be a night she'd hold in her mind for years to come.

——

(Y/N) hadn't had a moment to herself since she exited the stage after final bows. She was being swarmed by the fellow ballerinas in her company, who were congratulating her on a wonderful show and already celebrating their collective performance. She didn't mind it though...she was buzzing from the high herself.

"You have a few fans waiting out in the hall to see you, Miss (Y/L/N)," one of the stagehands told her once she'd finished the conversation she was having.

(Y/N) nodded and allowed the man to lead her to the door that separated the backstage area from the rest of the theatre. He opened the door for her and she thanked him before seeing the same group of little girls that had been at her last show waiting for her. She greeted them with a wide smile, happily accepting their flowers and other gifts that they came back to bring her. After many hugs and a short conversation, she said goodbye and some words of encouragement.

Standing tall again, she looked ahead of her and found the last person she expected to. Tommy Shelby was there, leaning against the wall much like he had last time, but now he had a bouquet of beautiful red roses with him. (Y/N) went over to him without a second thought.

"I brought you flowers this time," he was the first to speak, raising the bouquet slightly to accentuate his statement.

"You...you did," she stuttered out, still not quite believing her eyes, "were...were you...?" She couldn’t get a complete sentence out. Not once in the times they’d met up over the last two weeks did he mention he was able to make it to her show - they hadn’t spoken about it after that night.

"I was," he answered with a slight chuckle, a smile forming on his lips at her shock.

"Please tell me you didn't cancel your plans for me."

"I did," he confirmed what she already knew, "you're worth breaking plans for, love."

The widest smile formed on her face at his statement, and she couldn't help but close the distance to wrap her arms around his neck in a tight hug. He chuckled at her reaction, holding onto her as tightly as she was holding him. "You did amazing," he mumbled into her neck before pressing a kiss to it.

"I'm happy you came," she said, holding back her emotions with a smile as she pulled away, "so happy," she added, her hands moving to his face so that she could kiss him.

Even though she’d just given what was surely the best performance of her career, (Y/N) couldn’t deny that she’d never felt happier than she did at this moment.

Tagged: @mystcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21 @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @notyour-valentine @shelbydelrey @onlydeadcells @peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl @stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder @midnightmagpiemama @cillmequick @rangerelik @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @itscheybaby @gypsy-girl-08 @insanitybyanothername @depxiety @raincoffeeandfandoms @dragons-are-my-favorite @acewritesfics @forgottenpeakywriter @cljordan-imperium @areyenotfondofmelobster @little-diable @thomashelbyswife @iambored24601 @shaddixlife

MASTERLIST

[aziraphales-library]

Hi! Thank you so much for all the work you put into this archive. I've spent so many hours reading fics lately and enjoying every second thanks to you all!

I wonder if you have any recs for human!au fics where Crowley and Azi meet either online, as penpals or some other way that's anonymous, but maybe they don't know each other in real life or they don't know the other is their online friend/penpal. I really like the build-up towards meeting each other and things like that! I hope it's not too confusing. Any suggestions with those themes would be wonderful ❤️

We have loads of fics along these lines on our #social media tag, a specific pen pals post here, and you'll find similar kinds of fics our our #mistaken identity tag. I've got a bunch now, but I'm sure these'll all be on the tags mentioned, because there are only so many (unfortunately; I too love this trope!)...

Texts from an Unknown Number by GaryOldman (T)

The human wrong number AU I have been craving. Trapped at a boring Halloween party, Aziraphale tries to get in touch with Gabriel but his text ends up in the wrong place.

Press L in the Chat (for Love) by Phoenix_Soar (E)

Bickering fan-content creators Aziraphale and Crowley only have three things in common — they are both avid fans of a new revolutionary TV series about pirates, they are popular for their fantastic fanfiction and fanart… and they are members of the same discord server. Neither of them likes the other, but across the chaotic virtual world of a discord chatroom, who knows what can happen when these two unlikely fans are paired up for an exciting collaboration? Us. We know ;) Discord Server AU — a collaboration between Phoenix_Soar (fic) and Djapchan (multivoice podfic organization & editing) for Pod-Together 2022

A Tricky Situation (Entirely of his own making) by sixbynine (E)

"Crowley stood up and went to leave, he turned back just as he opened the door and took a deep breath. “You know I was quite excited to come here and work with you. I enjoyed reading your work. I disagree with a lot of it, but your writing style is lovely and every so often you’d let that privileged rich white boy mask drop and it was fantastic. I was hoping to meet that Professor Fell, but I’m beginning to think maybe he doesn’t exist and I’m going to be stuck with a rude stuck up arsehole for the next five years.” He slammed the door behind him before Aziraphale could respond. Aziraphale gaped, open mouthed, at the shut door." -- Aziraphale is teaching at Kings College London. He's been teaching at King College London for a long time now thank you very much and he does not take kindly to new Professors being sprung on him suddenly. Especially when this one has quite publically made his opinon of Aziraphale's work known. Luckily Aziraphale has an understanding penpal...

Readings From the Books of Ashtoreth by Quefish (E)

Vicar Aziraphale Bookman has a comfortable life. He lives in and serves the small village community of Tadfield. He enjoys contributing to local businesses, taking walks, and of course reading. His 'guilty pleasure', which gives him no guilt and all pleasure, is a series of novels by one AJ Ashtoreth. But what happens when he reaches out with an innocent bit of fanmail?

The Anon Before Christmas by foolishlovers (E)

When Crowley’s friend, blogging buddy and business partner Anathema announces her annual Secret Santa Exchange on Tumblr, she is very adamant Crowley should join this year. The old-fashioned (but admittedly compassionate) man he gets assigned to send anonymous messages to every day until Christmas sounds awfully similar to the fussy bookseller that his friends adore, yet Crowley tries to avoid at all costs. But surely his friends would have mentioned if Aziraphale had taken an interest in the Bad Omens fandom as well… right? Or: An Enemies to Lovers Secret Santa Tumblr AU.

I Knew I Loved You by AppleSeeds (E)

In September 1999, when his family gets connected to the internet, prospective Marine Biology student Crowley discovers an online forum where he can actually talk to people who share his passion for saving the whales. He begins corresponding with a kind stranger he knows only as Ocean_Angel, and is incredibly excited when the opportunity arises to meet this mysterious person in real life. As their friendship develops, Crowley shares things with Angel that he can't talk about with anyone else, and Angel's insights help him to explore and embrace his own identity. As Crowley works towards finding a place in this world where he feels like he really belongs, he realises that a big part of the answer to that question might actually be right in front of him. What if where he belongs is with Angel?

Big Name Feelings by ghostrat (E)

FANDOM AU! • Crowley is a BNF fic writer, and Aziraphale is a lurking artist who might be just a little parasocially in love with him. How they ever became friends is beyond him, but here they are: One month out from Prophet Con, and Crowley is asking him to be his boyfriend. Just for the weekend, of course.

- Mod D

[xaharadesert]

Super Chatty MC - Headcanon

Arcana Characters (Main 6) x MC

A/N: For another lovely anon! I wasn’t planning on writing 2 days in a row, but this was a super cute and simple one, so I had a lot of fun with it! Please let me know if there are any spelling or grammar mistakes (it’s 4am as I finish this, so I’m sure there’s plenty of errors) requests are open!

❤️Julian❤️

He’s undeniably verbose himself, so he’s in no position to judge

There may be moments where you’ll be in the middle of a rant and he’ll accidentally cut you off because you’ve reminded him of one of his own adventures

He will apologize of course, and encourage you to continue what you were saying, but he hopes he’ll get the chance to tell you the story later

Unfortunately he is prone to getting distracted while you’re talking, so while he would love to actively engage with all of your ideas, his mind is too busy making connections to other topics

But even if he struggles to pay attention, he’ll never grow tired of your boundless energy

🧡Portia🧡

As long as the topic is interesting, she doesn’t mind at all

She’s a big fan of gossip, so she’s always listening in to your latest rambles, even if they’re not directed at her

She has a way of needling her own thoughts into your rants and turning it into a proper conversation

You’ll hardly even notice since she matches your energy so well

It might be a bit of a pain for the people around you if you’re in public, but you two seem so happy in your own little world that no one has the heart to bother you

💛Lucio💛

This man has never been an active listener in his life, and as much as he loves you he is not about to start

He won’t stop you from rambling, but he’s definitely not paying attention to what you’re saying unless it’s directly related to him in some way

He’s mostly just thinking about all the things he’s gonna say when it’s his turn to talk again

It’s almost like a competition over who gets to speak; every time one of you pauses for too long, the other gets started on a topic that might not even be related

That being said, when you two are mutually interested in a topic (particularly drama), the conversation can last hours with full investment from both sides

💚Muriel💚

He’s really not a talker, so you’ll never be in competition with him for talking time

That being said, he’s not much of a listener either; he tries his best to pay attention to what you’re saying because he wants to show that he cares for you and your thoughts, but he gets tired quickly

He’s not really used to the constant noise, and it can stress him out sometimes, so he’ll not so subtly shoo you outside to go chat to the chickens

That does make him feel a little bad, and he hopes you understand that he doesn’t have any ill intentions

He just needs a bit of alone time to recharge so he can be the best version of himself for you

💙Asra💙

He loves to listen to the sound of your voice even if the topic isn’t interesting

After knowing you for years, he seems to have some sort of sixth sense that tells him when he actually needs to be paying attention to what you’re saying

You’ll never be able to tell if he’s actually listening though, because he always looks like he’s in dream land (whether he’s gazing at you with a dreamy look in his eyes, or staring off into the distance like he sees an entirely different world, Asra always looks like he’s got more going on in his head than he lets on)

Occasionally he’ll mention some obscure detail that you spoke of maybe once like a month ago just to throw you off track when you think you’ve got his listening patterns figured out

It’s really not something to stress over; he makes it clear that he loves you, and loves your chatty nature even if he seems distracted day to day

💜Nadia💜

She is perhaps the only person in Vesuvia with enough mental power to always pay active attention to what you’re saying

Being a politician has given her plenty of practice at effectively dividing her attention, so she can listen to you while still completing other tasks and even holding other conversations

Just when you think you’ve lost her, she’ll ask a relevant question to assure you that she’s invested in whatever you’ve been ranting about

It’s not always an easy task for her, and she does need a bit of quiet at the end of the day to recharge, but she understands that you have no ill will

In fact, she occasionally takes advantage of your chatty demeanour and sends you out to distract various important individuals who she doesn’t really want to talk to herself (with your knowledge and consent, of course)

[drabblesandimagines]

400 request! Leon x female reader. How they meet or first impressions.

(Also omg I’m so happy you write about resident evil too!)

Thank you, anon! I'm happy I write about Resident Evil too x Travel Pillow Leon Kennedy x female reader, fluff

Looking at the rain smacking against the tarmac through the plane window, you’re not convinced you will be taking off any time soon, despite the airline’s confidence when they’d opened the boarding gate 20 minutes ago. The last of the passengers are finding their seats in the small plane, only two seats either side of the aisle. You feel a knee bash against your thigh and you turn, seeing a handsome man with light brown hair framing bright blue eyes, jeans with a white tee and a semi-smart black jacket stood over the empty seat, looking apologetic.

“Sorry.” He rubs the back of his head, scolding himself for a bad first impression on the pretty girl he is going to be sitting next to for the next three hours. “I swear they make the leg room on these tin cans smaller and smaller every time.”

“No harm done. And, yeah, I agree - trying to get you to splurge for the emergency exit.”

“Mm, and my work won’t cover that expense.” He tugs off his jacket before he sits down, banging his knee against the upturned tray table on the seat in front and winces. “Yep, should’ve got some knee pads.”

You laugh at that and he smiles, sensing it’s genuine in nature. Makes a change.

“Name’s Leon.” He offers you his hand and you take it, giving it a shake and offering your name in return.

“Take it you’re traveling for business, then?” You probe – he’s easy on the eyes and much more interesting to look at than the rain out the window.

“Was.” He leans back, buckling up his seatbelt. “On the way home now. You?”

“Moving - starting a new job on Monday.”

“Oh, wow. Moving via plane?”

You shake your head. “Got a guy driving my stuff over in a few days. Only got the job offer Wednesday.”

“Huh,” Leon mulls. “They sound pretty keen for you.”

“Yeah, well-”

The PA system pings, interrupting you. There’s a crackle of static before a voice rings out. “Good evening, this is your captain speaking. I’m afraid we have a storm warning rolling in and, currently, we are unable to take off. As we are still at the gate and it will be a little while before we can depart, we are going to ask you to disembark.” Groans ring around the plane. “Please be sure to take all your hand luggage with you and be sure to pick up your complimentary drinks voucher from the cabin crew.”

“Bets on it excluding alcohol?” Leon asks, unbuckling his seat belt and getting to his feet as your fellow passengers follow suit - grumbling about the delay, grabbing their bags. “Got anything in the overhead?”

“Yeah.” You get to your feet, having to hunch over a little as the side of the plane slopes. “Black duffel bag.”

“I got it.”  

“What a gentleman.” You smile, watching as he raises his arms above his head to reach for your bag, your eyes lingering on the way his biceps tense.

“I may have an ulterior motive.” He smirks, pulling the bag down and hanging it off his shoulder with ease. You hadn’t been exactly subtle while you had admired his arms.

“Oh?”

“Hoping you might partake in a non-complimentary drink with me.”

“I think I can manage that.”

--

“So, what do you do?”

You’d grabbed a cosy table for two in the corner of the airport bar, a clear view of the departures board in sight in case any news came through about your delayed flight. The complimentary drinks voucher had excluded alcohol, so you had ended up with two drinks in front of you – a soda from the airline that you’d quickly polished off, and one from your handsome seat-mate that you made sure to take your time over.

“Me?” Leon shrugs a shoulder. “I work for the government – just boring bureaucratic nonsense, wrapped up in a lot of red tape. How about you?”

“Software.”

“Guess you’re pretty skilled to be in such high demand.”

“Something like that. Just a niche area. Money was too good to say no.” It wasn’t strictly a lie. “And, if I can be so bold, no-one to leave behind?”

“Bingo.”

“Well, I feel that. No-one for me to return home to. Work keeps me too busy – can be away a few days to a few months.”

“Ah, so you don’t always flirt with women you meet on planes?”

“No,” he shakes his head, “This is just an elaborate apology for bashing your knee earlier.” “Gotcha.” You take another sip of your drink. “So, how long have you lived in DC?”

“A few years now, on and off.”

“Good, then you can tell me all of the bad coffee shops and tourist traps I need to avoid.”

Leon shakes his head, grinning all the while. “I can’t hand over that information, you’ve gotta work your way through sucky cups of coffee like every other fine resident that came before you.”

“Please?” You pout, tilting your head and he’s so tempted to give in with how adorable you look.

“Cute, but no. You’ll understand one day.”

“Not even a clue?”

“Uh-uh, I’m sorry.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Yeah,” he lifts his glass to his lips, trying to hide his smile. “I’m not.”

“Is there anything you can tell me about DC, then?”

He ponders for a moment. “They really like brunch.”

“Maybe…” you rest your hand on the table, wondering if you could reach out and touch his, “..you could take me for br-“

“Passengers for delayed flight AA4628 are asked to head towards gate 34 to commence boarding.” The PA system announces from above your heads. “That’s passengers for delayed flight AA4628 are asked to head towards gate 34 to commence boarding. Thank you.”

“Guess we better head back.” Leon downs his drink and gets to his feet, heaving your bag back over his shoulder.

“Mm,” you agree, downing the rest of your own and your question, and following him back to the gate.

--

The drink must’ve gone more to your head than you thought, especially after a frantic few days of packing, late nights from trying to get everything in order before you moved across the country because you don’t remember the plane even taking off. You wake up to your ears popping as the plane begins its descent and slowly open your eyes, wondering why the seat in front of you is at an angle. It’s then you realise you’re not upright in your own seat, instead cuddling up into someone’s chest, almost nuzzling your cheek into them, an arm draped around your shoulders.

You shoot up, the arm sliding off and you see Leon besides you, smiling sleepily, “Hey, sleepyhead.”

“I am so sorry.” You can feel your cheeks burn as you worry if you drooled, or snored or…

“What, for using me as a pillow?” He chuckles. “It’s fine. For the record, I fell asleep too so it was mutually beneficial.”

“Oh. Good.” You nod, settling back into an awkward silence as the plane continues its descent towards the tarmac and you turn your attention to the window, looking down at the place you’ll be calling home for however long.

As the plane lands and begins taxiing to the gate you wonder if you should ask Leon for his number, or give him your own. It would be nice to know someone in DC, after all. You pull your phone out your pocket, about to ask when an air stewardess appears at Leon’s side, whispers in his ear and he smiles, nods in thanks and unbuckles his seatbelt to stand, before he hesitates and turns to look at you, noting your look of confusion.

“Seems work’s been waiting for me since our delay. My boss has pulled some strings to get me off the flight first, so…” He swallows, disappointed - though he knows he shouldn’t be. He knew from the moment you started talking, despite the feeling in his stomach, that it was fantasy where he could pretend that after you’d arrived in DC, the two of you could exchange numbers and he’d take you out for the good coffee, brunch and dinner, buy you flowers, kiss you under the streetlights…

Idiot, he reprimands himself. You’re a sweet girl, too sweet for the world he’s involved in.

“It was nice to meet you.” He smiles. “Good luck with the new job.”

“Oh.” You can’t hide your disappointment as he finally stands, the air stewardess waiting to lead him back up the aisle. “Thanks. Nice to meet you too, Leon.”

He nods, once, and you watch him walk away.

--

You hesitate outside your new work, the building looming over you. You still don’t know how to feel about this, but how can you reject a job offer from the President of the United States? You bin the cup of coffee you’d bought from a cart in the park on the way here – mistake, curse Leon for not giving you any heads up – and walk inside, navigating through security and reception, before being told to head up to floor three where an Ingrid Hunnigan is waiting to brief you, standing by the elevator doors. She’s a smartly dressed woman, curly hair tied up in a bun and studious glasses, though she greets you with a smile and a handshake.

“Welcome to the DSO. Glad to have you – I’ve been admiring your work over the weekend.”

“Oh, thank you. I’m… It’s good to be here.” You correct.

Hunnigan doesn’t press, instead gesturing you forward. “Sorry, I promise we’ll do a whistlestop tour another time, but you’re going to be hitting the ground running this morning – we have an intel briefing at 0915.”

“We?”

“Mm – me, you and Agent Kennedy.”

You’re led to a small meeting room and told to take a seat, but Hunnigan remains standing by the door.

“Coffee? Since I haven’t had chance to give you the tour, it’s the least I could do.”

“Oh, yeah. Thank you.” You reply, taking a seat.

“Be right back.”

You fiddle with the hem of your shirt, looking around at the room – not that there’s much to take in, it’s a small, circular table with six chairs around it, a projector hanging from the ceiling and some adaptor cables poking out the middle for someone to connect a laptop.

The door opens a couple of moments later and you turn your head, eyes widening at the figure who enters.

Leon looks equally surprised for a moment before a smirk crosses his lips and he strides in, taking the seat opposite. He leans back in his chair, crosses his arms and quirks an eyebrow.

“Software, huh?”

--

You wake up to your ears popping as the plane begins its descent, your face resting on Leon’s chest, his arm wrapped around your shoulders and head resting atop your own – an all too familiar routine when you travel together by plane. You nuzzle your cheek into his warmth, feeling too content to open your eyes just yet when you feel him move and place a kiss upon your crown.

“Afraid it’s time to wake up, sweetheart”

“Mm, five more minutes. We can’t be landing already, we only just left the gate.” You protest.

His chuckle vibrates through your cheek. “You were out like a light before we even took off. I’m beginning to worry you only keep me around as your personal travel pillow.”

Sighing, you sit upright, trying to rub the crick out of your neck. “That, among other reasons.”

“What other reasons?”

“Hmm,” you pretend to muse, cupping his face in your palm and press a soft kiss to his lips before pressing your forehead against his. “Cos I love you.”

“Love you more.”

-- Comments, likes and reblogs make my whole day! x Masterlist . Requests welcome . Commissions/Ko-Fi

[eatmeandbirthmeagain]

Hi! Im so happy your requests are open again because Ive been meaning to send over this one if youre interested ^^

Could you write something about Baldwin and his scholarly wifey who studies astronomy as one of her hobbies (she's the type to write several manuscripts about her studies & findings tirelessly alongside her queenly duties )

Which means that Wifey is often up all night to study the stars and would sometimes forget that evenings are usually the only hours Baldwin gets to spend intimate quality time with her! Maybe theres a scene where she apologizes and reassures him saying " no star in the sky could ever compare to the one i have in my arms" (something along those lines) as she gives him lots of affection 🌌

♧ Star Boy - King Baldwin x Reader ♧

♧ Angst ♧

A/N: Hello Anon! Thank you for this amazing request, I have been so exited to do this one, it is so cute! I hope this is what you had in mind. Apologies for no fic yesterday guys I am pretty sick right now 😭. As always this is based on the film Kingdom Of Heaven, not the real historical figures. Enjoy!

TW: Leprosy

The queen of Jerusalem was never a princess.

She was never the daughter of a lord or lady either and she was certainly never royalty before meeting her husband.

Instead, was an astronomer. Turning to the stars instead of the earth when things became difficult.

Y/n was famous amongst the kingdom as the most successful female astronomer for her time.

Some frowned upon her, shaming her for being an unwed woman with a job. Cursing her and her “lack of knowledge”, simply for being female.

But this never stopped her or deterred her from her work. Infact, it encouraged her to continue.

And it stayed this way until the day she met Baldwin and was wed to the king of Jerusalem himself. It was by no means a marriage of arrangement. It was certainly one of love.

Her profession never bothered him, Baldwin loved his wife's work even before their meeting, he had read each and every one of her manuscripts, poured over her notes and loved each and every word.

As the years passed, their love for eachother grew and grew, but as did their time apart.

During the day, they were both busy with separate royal duties and by night, the now queen was busy with her studies.

The evening was the only real time Baldwin had to himself and spending that time alone was becoming increasingly common as y/n returned to the chambers later and later each night.

This continued until by the time she returned, Baldwin was already sound asleep, tired from a long day.

She would simply get changed and climb into bed beside him, tucking him in and giving him a kiss on the forehead or cheek before going to sleep herself.

Some nights, she would not return at all and Baldwin would wake in the early hours of the morning to find himself alone in the bed.

Most mornings, y/n would rise before him so again, the king would wake to a cold space beside him with the only confirmation she was ever there in the first place in the form of a note on his desk about her plans for the day and words of love.

He kept every single one, no matter how much they secretly hurt his heart.

Baldwin knew how important this work was to her and did not want to put pressure on her to stop her schedule for him, but it tore him apart each and every day.

He wanted his wife. He wanted to see her, hear her voice, feel her presence.

Until one day, he could simply not take it anymore. It was then that he decided to speak with her about it when she returned to the royal chambers that night.

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

Baldwin sat alone at his desk with his head propped up on his hand. His mask lay on the desk beside where his elbow rested, leaving his freshly bandaged face exposed to the cool night air.

He was tired from the day, but not tired enough to sleep just yet. He was usually asleep by now, but he had to stay awake.

He needed to speak with her.

This simply could not continue, he wanted her. He wanted her words, her love, her affection.

Baldwin waited, and waited and waited until the moon was high in the sky. He felt his eyelid's growing heavy but he needed to stay awake so he straightened his posture to avoid dozing off.

The king sighed heavily.

This was not what he wanted to do. But it was necessary.

Until finally, the door opened quietly and the young queen slipped into the room.

Noticing the candles still lit, y/n’s eyes widened with surprise at the sight of her husband sitting at his desk, still awake.

“Oh Baldwin, I thought you would be sleeping by now,” she said with a smile, walking over to her closet to get changed.

“Yes, I have been meaning to speak with you, y/n” the king said, swallowing a lump in his throat and getting to his feet.

“What's wrong, love?” y/n asked, suddenly nervous.

“I have no intention of offending you when I say this since I know you are very busy” Baldwin paused, rethinking everything for a moment. Maybe it was best if he did not do this now? No, he had to.

“Yes?’ the queen prompted, her slight nervousness turning into fear for what he would say next.

Baldwin took a deep breath before speaking again.

“I miss you y/n. I miss spending time with you, I barely see you now. You're always either in the astronomy tower, writing manuscripts or out of the city. I don't feel like your husband anymore, more like a second choice” Baldwin took another shuddering breath, his eyes filling with tears.

He sat back down at his desk and put his head in his hands as y/n looked at him in silence.

Her heart broke at his words, the realization hitting her quickly. How could she have been so careless? She had completely rejected him, just leaving him alone so many nights and assuming he was okay with it?

“Oh my poor baby I’m so sorry” y/n said urgently, approaching him and taking him in her arms quickly.

Baldwin was fast to wrap his arms around her midsection and bury his face into her robes.

His silent tears eventually turned to broken sobs. After weeks of holding back everything, he couldn't take it anymore.

“Baldwin i’m so sorry” the queen said softly, tears welling in her own eyes.

“I can't believe I have been neglecting you like this”.

Y/n bent down to look him in the eyes, taking his hand in hers and kissing it gently.

“You could never be a second choice Baldwin. You are worth more than any star in the sky”

The king smiled weakly, tears still streaming down his cheeks.

“I promise my love, I will never leave you for my work again. You will forever be my first priority” y/n told him before wrapping her arms around him.

Baldwin nodded and buried himself into her robes again.

“Come on darling, let's get some rest. You must be exhausted” she said, as the two got to their feet. 

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

Once under the covers, Baldwin cuddled against his wife, happy to finally be back in her arms.

Y/n chuckled at his affection.

She had forgotten how adorable he could be. That thought almost brought her to tears again but she held them back, for his sake.

“I love you so much, y/n” the king mumbled before yawning softly.

“I love you too, Baldwin. And I always will” she cupped his cheek in her hand, tilting his face up to look at her.

He smiled sleepily, his tired eyes filled with adoration.

“I've missed you” the queen said, fighting back tears.

“I've missed you too” Baldwin replied as y/n kissed his forehead and pulled him against her body.

She held him as tightly as she could that night, vowing to never let go again.

As soon as he was snoring softly, y/n allowed the tears to fall from her eyes. She bit down on her cheek to prevent herself from crying out loud as she sobbed into the pillow.

“Oh my love, I'm so sorry” she whispered through tears.

How could she just leave him like that? How could she get so caught up and distracted, neglecting him completely.

He was her husband, her HUSBAND. The one man in the world who had dedicated his life to stay by her side no matter what, and she had just ignored him completely.

“Never again” y/n thought to herself as she drifted into sleep.

Never again would she leave his side for anything. Evenings were now for him only, and that is how it would stay.

[wayfayrr]

Hello! If I may, I’d like to make a request.

When I was little (between 4 and 8), my brother and I played Ocarina of Time constantly. It was our go-to game when hanging out. We replayed it and found all secrets and stuff. I was wondering if you could do a platonic self aware OOT!Link one shot? One where Link considers the player to be like a sibling to him since they grew up together in a way?

Thank you so much! I really enjoy your work ❤️

you're very welcome anon! this was such a sweet request to write!! I went with the post timeskip link for this seeing as I've already written one for Majora's mask link and I thought it would be more interesting to have that difference between the two pieces <3 I hope you'll enjoy this

[masterlist]

“Hey, I’ve been wanting to ask for a while… do you still have that old copy of Ocarina of time we used to play together? I’ve been kinda wanting to replay it. It’s a bit of a pain to get a new one or an emulator though so…”

“Uh? I think so, I can check in my attic later and drop it around your place tomorrow if I can?”

“That sounds perfect, thanks for the favour man.”

That was a fairly productive phone call, now I hopefully won’t have to mess about with an emulator or shell out for the subscription to play it again. Seeing as Nintendo doesn’t want to make their old catalogue accessible. All I need to do on my end is to wait and possibly google how to set up an N64 in the meantime.

Turns out that we did still have the old thing, and that it isn’t all that hard to set up either so it’s not like it takes too long for me to hear the calmingly melancholic tones of the game’s opening theme. Our old save file is still there too, although some of the stats on the file seem to have gotten a little bit corrupted because I’m convinced we completed it fully. Although it’s been what like 10 years or more since I would’ve last played, it makes sense that I might just be misremembering things. No harm in seeing where we left off though is there?

Well even though the file says otherwise, looking through Link’s inventory really wants to disprove that - there’s something with the same sprite as Zelda’s letter where it should just be an empty slot. It’s not got a name, if I hover over it it simply brings up a missing value error and the button prompt me to read it. It’s not like there’s any issue if I did open it, it’s an old save file so even if it does corrupt I won’t lose anything. 

Nothing happened, just a fade to blank before it glitched out and the inventory screen popped back up so that I could close it and have a look around…

How did Link turn around as I was paused in the inventory and how did his face get so close to the screen?

“[Name]? I knew you’d be back at some point! I knew you wouldn’t just leave your older brother for good… you wouldn’t would you?”

“...How do you know my name..?”

I know that Ai has gotten incredibly good recently but this is an N64, an unmodded one at that, so whatever the hell is happening right now can’t be due to that. This feels like it could be the start to a creepypasta though with everything going on right now - is this like a real life ben drowned - no it can’t be, he’d be crying blood if it were the case and he wouldn’t be as friendly either. 

“Because you told me it all those years ago when you first played through the game? You always spoke to me like I was a real person, like you saw me as your older brother, so it’s only natural that I started to see you like a little sibling right? Then when you disappeared I got so worried, It’s been so long but you’ve gotten so much older! Did you pull the mastersword yourself, because this much time can’t have really passed can it?... Can it?”

He looks almost like he’s about to cry, I should be caref- why am I so worried about hurting the feelings of a fictional character? Is it cause he sees me like a sibling, a younger one; because he knows me from when I was younger; or because he seems so attached to me already? Maybe I should just… turn it off so I don’t have to deal with it.

“I don’t remember how long it’s been, a good few years at least, Since I’ve played it. I wasn’t exactly planning to-”

“Is that what you used to control me!? I’ve never been able to get a good look at it before. Would you mind bringing it closer?”

“...Yeah I can bring it closer.”

The way he interrupted me was so so sad, he’s forcing himself to be cheery when he looks like he’s about to break down, like how an older brother would act. He really sees himself as my older brother doesn’t he? I have to admit that the way he’s leaning against the screen like an excited kid is also pretty cute I won’t lie to myself, if it weren’t for how insane the situation is I don’t think I’d mind him being my younger brother. He’s younger than me now anyway so that makes far more sense. 

Is the screen cracking beneath him? 

It’s definitely cracking under his weight, there are seconds left before it shatters.

“It’s so simple and yet it was the reason that you were able to-”

Glass can only last so long. And now he’s out, lying on my floor in a shocked heap with glass shards surrounding and covering him. After a couple of seconds of neither of us knowing what to do, we both snap into action at the same time, while I try to help him up and check for any serious wounds… he’s just laughing with the widest goofiest smile on his face, grabbing at my arms like I’m nothing but a wisp of a dream. 

“I - wow I - I could never have imagined that I could - that this - that this was even an option for me…”

“But I can be your brother in person now can’t I?”

[crushmeeren]

Aziraphale/Male Reader

Warnings; The work below contains angst, smut and fluff. Top! Aziraphale, Bottom! Reader, Anal Sex, Oral Sex, kissing, Cursing, Crowley being a good friend and I couldn’t resist letting reader get cream pied at the end.

Note; To my lovely anon requestor for this one shot, I hope you enjoy! I loved writing this, I’ve never written any angst before so hopefully it translates well. I also amused myself while writing this so there’s that.

AO3 Link; Millenia😈

Word Count; 8.7k

You’ve come to the conclusion, that this entire mess with Aziraphale, really only started when Crowley came up with the idea for a fucking suggestion box. Of course, you didn’t know the demons name back then, only by the color of his hair.

You noticed the white haired Angel and the red head when you were flying by, on your way to some stupid meeting or another. As you passed, your ears strained, and you could only catch a snippet of their conversation. The words you did catch, were intriguing to say the least. Hearing the words “suggestion box” and “Almighty” in the same couple sentences had been all it took to make you stop in your tracks and shoot towards them. It peaked your interest. You thought about how useful a thing like that could be. You thought to yourself that it wouldn’t do any harm to have something like that. You had been wrong.

As you came to a stop you braced your wings, tensing the muscles in your back. They kept you afloat, suspended in air next to the other two. Your appearance startled them and they looked at you, eyes wide, speechless. Their wings twitched in surprise. As you took a second to take in the other Angels, you felt a spark of recognition looking at the one with white hair. You realized it was Aziraphale, an Angel you had come to know recently. Not closely, but you were acquainted at that point.

“Either of you want to tell me about this “suggestion box” idea?” Flapping your wings gently, you looked between them. A swift movement of your neck and you had noticed the expression on Aziraphales face made him look as pale as a ghost, as if he had been terrified they were already getting caught. You’re a bit higher up on the food chain, a dominion, so truthfully, you could understand the hesitation. Although you weren’t there to criticize or punish, genuinely curious about their discussion.

You felt the warm swooshing of stars shooting behind the three of you. They had filled up the galaxy with their beautiful bright light. It made your spine tingle pleasantly as you waited in an awkward silence for an answer. You pursed your lips and raised an eyebrow, looking to the red head instead, who wore a grin. He looked overly proud of his idea. It was Crowley who had broken the tension, mouth pulled into a wide smile.

“Right, so I was just speaking to Aziraphale here about a suggestion box. It’s more or less a place where we can write down our ideas to the Almighty and then she can look them over. Of course she’d decide whether they were worthless or not but I think it’s the thought that counts,” he said brightly, fidgeting in place. He looked like he was brimming with too much energy. Not an ounce of awkwardness or unease radiated from him anymore.

Aziraphale, on the other hand, his pretty face had still looked stricken at your presence. Mouth turned downwards, eyebrows pulled together. You had felt a strange sensation in your chest when you looked at his face, it was a bit of an aching feeling. It had felt very unpleasant. Extremely unsettling. You gave Aziraphale a soothing smile in an attempt to make him feel better. You hadn’t been sure then, why you cared so much about how the Angel felt.

“Look, don’t worry about this, I’m not here to get anyone trouble. I was truly curious about this and I’d have to say I think it’s a good idea,” you said, trying your best to convey you meant no harm.

“That’s exactly what I said!” Crowley exclaimed, sounding satisfied someone else had agreed with him.

“The Almighty does not take suggestions! Furthermore, who are we to question the Almightys plan?” Aziraphale said, tone desperate. He looked around frantically, to see if anyone else had been near by listening, anxiety twisted coldly in his belly. Icy tendrils had started to crawl through his veins. You had noticed however, that despite his tone of voice, his demeanor had seemed to calm down, if only a little bit, from the reassuring words you had used.

You reached out a hand and placed it on his shoulder. He had felt warm beneath your palm. It had ignited something in you, something sharp, something warm. It startled you even more than you had been when you caught yourself caring about the Angels feelings. It was when he turned those pretty blue eyes on you, that you felt the breath punched out of your chest. You paused for a moment, feeling urgently that you should have been more concerned about it. You shook it off for the moment anyways.

“Aziraphale, this isn’t a bad idea. It couldn’t hurt to ask a few questions, could it?” you said, taking your hand off his shoulder. His cheeks had been dusted with a barely their pink color from the contact from your hand. You had ignored that too.

“Exactly! It can’t do much harm,” Crowley piped up, making eye contact with you.

“Of course it can! What are the two of you thinking? A word of advice if I may? Be extremely careful saying things like this, you never know who’s listening.” Face contorted into an uneasy expression. Crowley, at that moment, had raised a wing to shield the three of you from an oncoming meteor shower. You and Crowley had shared a look, mentally agreeing to continue this conversation later.

You had glanced at Aziraphales side profile, admiring his sweet features until you had felt that uncomfortable sensation again. The one that had felt overly warm, making your wings itch as you scrunched your eyebrows in contemplation. You decided, at the time, it was probably nothing to worry about. The three of you had watched on in silence, admiring the meteors and taking a moment to appreciate the work Crowley had done on his little corner of the universe.

—————————————————————-

As it turns out, those feelings were absolutely, without a doubt, something to be concerned about. As you come back to your reality, you mull over the decisions that hell has plagued you with making recently. Your chin rests in the palm of your hand, the bone of your chin digging into your skin. Sitting in an uncomfortably hard throne chair in the pits of hell, you look at all the nasty demons under your command. They’re all idiots really, but you suppose they get the job done. Your eyes are sharp as you think about how they really need to change the color pallet down here. Everything’s in muted and dull colors of gray and green, making it look disease ridden.

“Bit depressing down here lately, don’t you think?” The voice comes from your right and you lazily turn your head to the side, letting your hand fall to your lap. You look at the source of said voice where it sits next to you, in his own hard as fuck throne chair. You raise your eyebrow at him.

“What the hell are you on about? It’s always been depressing down here Crowley,” you say, laughing humorlessly. The red headed demon lets out a snort, a breath of air that he pushes hastily out of his nose.

“Yes I suppose you’re right. Although now that you’re in charge, can’t you liven up the mood a little bit?” he jokes, grinning cheekily at you.

“Not a chance in hell! You know this is all your fault right? We’re only down here because of you,” you tease, trying to bite back a smile. Crowley lets out a groan of frustration and tilts his head backwards, throwing his hands up in exasperation.

“Oh c’mon! That was almost 6,000 years ago! You’ve got to let that go at some point you cheeky bastard. Besides, you agreed with me that it was a good idea!” Animatedly waving his hands around, he looks at you with an irritated expression you know isn’t real. When his serpent eyes make contact with yours, you can’t hold back your laughter. Your head tilts backwards as your laughter rings out, startling some of the demons in the same area. You pay no attention to those idiots. You do know, that for as much shit as you give Crowley, you know you wouldn’t have survived hell without him.

You two had become quite close in the last 6,000 years, as close to being family members as demons like the two of you could be. Of course, you both still kept in touch with Aziraphale as well, but that’s just a different beast entirely in itself. Truthfully, the suggestion box had only planted the seed of rebellion in you. It grew over time, spiraling out of control as your feelings for Aziraphale grew. Those feelings, the love and consequently lust, are really what made you fall from heaven. As Crowley grumbles next to you, you’re pulled into another memory. One that never fails to make a lump form in your throat and the chilly fingers of anxiety wreak havoc, twisting your insides until they suffocate.

——————————————————————

“Aziraphale,” you breathe out, watching the Angel walking up to you. Your heart rate picks up speed, thumping painfully against your sternum. The two of you have been spending time together, more often than not, since that impromptu meeting where Crowley spoke about suggestion boxes. That was a few hundred years ago. The meet up you’re about to have with Aziraphale, you know is not going to go so well.

Your hands shake as he saunters up to you, face lighting up brightly, like a star. He always looked so excited to see you. The thought hurts your head and your heart squeezes painfully. You wave at him in greeting. You’ve known for a long time that you’ve loved him. It’s been at least a couple hundred years of knowing your heart beats solely for him.

As frowned upon as human feelings are, you couldn’t stop it. It’s like getting into a car wreck, you see the oncoming car rapidly approaching, but it’s too late. No matter how hard you try to pump the brakes. You also realized long ago that, from his head to his toes, Aziraphale is beautiful. A work of art. There’s a reason such enchanting paintings have been made about Angels.

“Hi lovely,” Aziraphale says, voice soft and tender. “You wanted to meet with me?” Smiling so preciously at you, like you hung the moon for him, you feared you would melt right there. Immediately you feel nauseous. You’re sure you’re going to be sick, stomach rolling painfully. You manage a weak smile, taking in his happy appearance. You hadn’t told him about how you felt yet. Initially you thought that would be your doom, but no, love wasn’t going to be the cause of your demise. It’s lust.

Lust was something you hadn’t experienced before. When those warm, tingly, aroused feelings and thoughts started seeping into your brain, you knew you were fucked, metaphorically. You yearned for something you’ve come to know as making love to the Angel. You wanted to watch his sweet expressions, feel the searing heat of his insides and let him take you apart and put you back together again.

That’s when you felt petrified. You felt it in your bones, that lust was the breaking point. Heaven could tolerate love, God is all about love, but once they knew about your lustful desires, the sins you were committing, it was over. It’s not as easy to hide when you’re higher up in the Angel hierarchy. Granted you weren’t scared for Aziraphale, if he even felt the same way. No, it’s only a real problem the higher up you are. Now, it was only a matter of time before you fell. Just like Crowley. Gods, you hope you could find the fucker once you get to Earth.

“Yes Angel, I- there’s something important I need to tell you,” you say, letting out a shaky exhale. You clasp your trembling fingers together so tightly your knuckles are white. Your face must be pale, it must convey the amount of fear and pain in your expression. You watch Aziraphales face crumple when his eyes flit back and forth, studying your face.

“Dear, what is it? What’s wrong?” he asks, beginning to pull at the edge of his sleeves, feeling anxious. You chew on your bottom lip, looking into his pretty blue eyes, your body flushes hotly. You groan internally, feeling stuck on the edge of a cliff as you feel the strong urge to tell him. He deserves to know before you fall. Who knows when you’ll see him again. That thought makes you sick all over again. You open your mouth to speak, feeling the words physically build in your throat as you tremble, feeling dizzy. Yet something else comes out entirely.

“I, Angel I just,” you groan outwardly, rubbing your face with your hands briefly. “I can’t do this anymore.” Your heart stops, breath caught in your chest. A chill runs down your spine. That is not what you wanted to say. It falls silent between the two of you and you start to feel an impending sense of doom, hair prickling at the back of your neck. You watch the Angels expression shift into one of hurt, one of heartbreak. Eyebrows scrunching, lower lip wobbling slightly as he takes in your words.

“What?” he asks. One word, so filled to the brim with hurt. Voice so soft you can barely hear it. It feels like someone has shoved a butcher knife through your chest, wiggling it in until only the handle sticks out. Guilt burns through you, fuck that’s not what you meant to say! You can’t even speak, mouth dry, icy fear pumping through your veins. You must have taken a beat too long to answer because you see the Angels eyes well up with tears, his eyes shining. You desperately take a step forward reaching your hand out for him but he backs away quickly. Shaking his head in rejection of your touch. The Angel turns and walks away hastily. You stand there with your hand outstretched, body numb as the rush is adrenaline fades away.

You bring a shaky hand up to your face and admire your fingers long after the Angel has gone. You should be moving, savoring the little time you have left in heaven. You hear them coming. You can’t lift your feet, it’s like you’re rooted in cement. The heartache on Aziraphales face, the feeling of your heart shredded into pieces and the unwavering guilt consuming you are the last things you felt in heaven. It’s the last thing you remember before you’re waking up with a gasping inhale, laying on the cold, unforgivably hard dirt of Earth. You gaze up at the stars, not moving, feeling empty and dark.

“It’s about time you got your lazy arse down here,” Crowley says, voice coming from somewhere beside you. You hear the sound of cicadas nearby. You don’t even startle at the sound of the demons voice, you laugh humorlessly. You don’t turn your head when you speak.

“I suppose you’re right,” you say, only able to feel the smallest amount of relief at his presence.

——————————————————————-

It’s not the first time you relive the memory and it won’t be the last. It always leaves you with a sour taste in your mouth,a nauseous sensation pinching at your belly sharply. You’re on Earth now, going to meet Aziraphale. He’s convinced you to come over and watch some heart warming movie with him. You shove your frozen fingers into the pockets of your fuzzy coat. Snuggling your face deeper down into the warm, soft scarf wrapped around your neck. You’re taking in all the signs around you as you walk down the streets of SoHo, towards the bookshop. Maggie waves at you from the record shop, you return it with a wiggle if your fingers, face never leaving your scarf. You notice you’re able to see your breath puffing out like a dragon.

Things after you fell were never the same. It took thousands of years for Aziraphale to look in your direction, let alone speak to you again. The two of you using Crowley as some sort of bloody messenger boy. Which he did not take to kindly, always grumbling about how you should just fix things and tell Azirapahle the truth. You didn’t. It was only in the last 50 years that things have gotten somewhat normal between you and the Angel. Your chest aches, dully throbbing as you think about how this entire time the Angel thought you didn’t love him. When in reality all you’ve ever longed for was to to be with him. He has long since carved his existence into your heart, making himself at home. You’ve only ever loved him, heart beating for him, existing for him. It’s been that way since the beginning, even if you were too much of an idiot to realize it back then and too much of a coward to tell him.

The bell to the bookshop jingles overhead as you push the door open. Warm air blasting you, warming your frozen limbs. You reach up and pull down your scarf, feeling the blood rush to your cheeks as you step inside, letting the door shut softly behind you.

“Angel! I’m here,” you call out, walking down the steps further into the building. You look around the shop, taking in its cozy atmosphere. Aziraphale pushes open the swinging door of the kitchen with his foot, walking out carrying two cups of what you assume is tea. He smiles adoringly at you. After all this time, the way he looks at you has never changed.

“Finally dear! I was worried the tea would get cold before you showed up. Were you busy with something?” he asks, voice sound happy and bright. You look at him lovingly, eyes soft, gentle smile pulling on your lips. You wave a hand dismissively before you take off your coat and scarf, placing them on the chair nearby you.

“Sorry Angel, Crowley needed my help with something. You now how helpless he is without me,” you tease, rolling your eyes playfully. You take the cup of tea from him gratefully, wrapping your tingly fingers around the soothing warmth of the mug, humming happily. Aziraphale laughs at your comment, holding his own cup.

“Yes yes, the old boy would never survive without your leadership,” he says sarcastically, playing along with you. You smile and run a hand up through your short hair, brushing the locks off your forehead. It makes you feel so warm and content that things are going well with you two. You look down at the light brown liquid, raising the cup and taking a sip. You feel the warmth snake down your throat and smolder in your belly.

“How have you been?” you say, smiling cheekily. Aziraphales cheek turn a pretty pink and he takes a sip of his own tea before he responds.

“I’ve been well love, been missing the two of you if I’m being honest.” Averting his eyes, Aziraphale clears his throat softly and sets down his mug. You melt into a fucking pile of mush at his words, heart thudding painfully. You take a step closer, wanting so badly to reach out and touch him, but you don’t. Instead you smile lovingly at him, waiting until he makes eye contact with you.

“We’ve missed you too Angel,” you say sweetly, letting your tone of voice convey how you feel. The Angel turns scarlet as he notices how close you’ve gotten, startling slightly when he realizes he can see your eyelashes. He takes a step back, feeling flustered and overwhelmed about the warm, tingly feelings you’re giving him and fidgets nervously. Once again pulling on the sleeves of his cardigan. You watch him, the feeling so bittersweet at his consistent nervous behavior. You set down your cup of tea on his desk, clapping your hands together once. It makes Aziraphale jump.

“Right! Well let’s get cozy and watch the movie you’ve been dying to show me,” you say, starting to take off towards the couch placed on the other side of the shop. It’s in a room hidden from the front, not for customers. Aziraphale bites back a smile behind your back, butterflies fluttering dangerously in his belly and he follows behind you quickly, cups of tea forgotten in their places.

The two of you end up on the Angels, surprisingly soft and fuzzy, large three seater couch. Somehow you’ve let Aziraphale manage to convince you to watch the live action version of Winnie

the Pooh. He thinks it’s heartwarming. Granted, it does make sense the Angel wants to watch it, seeing as he’s memorized all the books. You’re both fairly close, thighs almost touching. You each have your respective soft blankets covering your laps. You’ve toed off your shoes and tucked your feet up next to you, leaning against the back of the couch. Azirapahle also shoeless, sitting with his feet resting on the floor, ankles crossed.

Aziraphale laughs at something Eyore says and you don’t really pay attention to the movie, you’re too fascinated by the Angel next to you. You try to focus your eyes on the screen but it’s really hard when you feel the heat from Aziraphales arm seeping into your skin through your long sleeved shirt. Your hands twitch in your lap. You noticed the Angel is trying to talk to you when he pokes your shoulder harshly.

“Hmm?”, you question, without turning your head.

“I was asking if you wanted some popcorn dear. Where’s your head at? In the clouds?” he teases, giggling softly. You turn your head to the right to look at him and you startle realizing how close you are to his face. You don’t answer. You inhale, breathe getting stuck in your throat as your eyes quickly track back and forth, looking into his eyes. Immediately your body flushes, cheeks burning. You notice the intense look in Aziraphales eyes as he involuntarily glances down at your lips. He doesn’t say a word.

Your heart beats even faster when you catch his eye movement. The air between you two feels like something thick, like warm molasses. You shift your body gently on the couch, angling your body towards his more. Aziraphales cheeks turn almost a bloody red color, flush traveling down his neck. Time feels like it’s suspended. You lean just a centimeter closer and your lips are almost brushing.

You think about if the Angel will reject you or not, how it would feel like someone wrapped sharp talons around your heart and forcefully ripped it from you chest. It can’t be worse then the way you hurt him in the past. You think about how’s he probably terrified right now, confused as hell. Guilt throbs in your chest and you realize suddenly, with absolute clarity, you have to kiss him. You have to show him, tell him how much you love him. Even if he doesn’t return the feelings, he deserves to know and you will no longer be a spineless coward about it. You feel your pulse in your fingertips as you bring your hand up to brush your knuckles over his cheek, hand trailing softly down his face before resting on his shoulder.

“Can I kiss you?” you whisper, voice tender. You wait patiently for his answer. A few seconds pass as you watch the battle the Angel has internally. Your worried you’ve overstepped.

“Yes,” he breathes, voice equally as gentle. Then you’re pressing your lips to his. They feel silky, plump and they fit perfectly to yours when you tilt your head. You feel him push back eagerly, hands coming up to fist the front of your shirt. The heat between you both flares, blazing through your veins as your lips start to roll with his urgently, fingers gripping his shoulder tightly. You’ve just slipped your tongue out to lick at his bottom lip, swallowing one of his sweet moans and then he’s ripping himself away, pushing you backwards onto the sofa in the process. You land with a surprised oof sound coming out of your mouth.

“Wait- wait, love, oh heavens, I can’t do this. You’re only kissing me because I wanted you to. I’ve loved you for so long dear and my heart can’t take it if this isn’t real,” he says, panicking and breathing heavily, seeing his eyes well up with tears the way they did so many years ago. You sit up quickly, your eyes stinging as you watch his face. You’re determined to not let him go this time. You lurch forward and you’re wrapping your arms around his neck, hugging him tightly, sure that he can feel the rapid pace of your heart. You know you can feel his. It beats just as quickly. The warmth of his body bleeding through your shirt. Aziraphale stays where’s seated, shaking slightly and pierced to the spot. He doesn’t hug you back.

“No, no that’s not why I did it Angel. This is real, I swear.” You push back from the embrace and frame his face with your hands. You feel the soft, heated skin of his cheeks under your palms. You look into his eyes, your facial expression violently serious. You feel everything you’ve wanted to say for more than a millennia start rushing up your throat, words shoving at each other to be the first out of your mouth. You feel your cup runneth over and you’re spilling your heart out.

“Angel, Aziraphale, I’m so sorry for what I said so long ago. I was just so scared and I know thats not an excuse. I can only

hope to atone for some of my sins and hope you’ll forgive me. I love you, I have always loved you. Ever since the beginning, ever since we spoke to Crowley about that damned suggestion box,” you say, running a thumb over his cheekbone.

The Angel laughs a watery laugh. “I loved you when I fell, I loved you when I became a leader in hell, I loved you when we weren’t speaking and I love you now,” you say, voice getting choked up. Aziraphale stares at you, a couple tears slipping free and running down his cheeks, tickling your skin as he lets out a soft laugh. He’s never looked so happy. He brings his hands up to hold your wrists, fingers wrapping delicately around the bone.

“I love you too,” he whispers, pressing forward to connect your lips together again. It’s everything you’ve ever wanted. There’s no fireworks but instead a feeling of coming home, the sensation you get when you take the first sip of a warm drink after you’ve been outside in freezing weather. Your heart pulses with sweet love and your head feels fuzzy.

This time you’re moaning into his mouth, as your lips move together slickly, feeling his teeth nipping at your bottom lip. You let go of his face, hands dropping to his shoulders, you dig your nails in through the fabric of his shirt. He lets his hands fall to your waist, tugging slightly at the clothing there, indicating he wants you to come closer. You decide to take it a step further and break from the kiss, noticing his lips are deliciously swollen and red. Aziraphale lets out what sounds like a protesting noise. You laugh, pressing a hand to the middle of his chest so he leans against the back of the couch. You hastily grab both of your blankets off your laps and toss them to the side.

Raising up on your knees, you swing your left leg over both of his and move to straddle his hips. A thigh pressing onto either side of his as you sit down fully in his lap and the hard, hot length of his cock presses up against your arse. You are able to somewhat feel the length and the thickness of his dick. It gives you an idea of what you’re about to be stretched open with. You don’t really care about size, seeing as you have no experience, but you know he’s about to split you in half. You watch him bite his bottom lip and his eyes trail your body slowly. Your eyes widen when his hands reach out to hold your waist, you let out a soft gasp in response.

You grip his shoulders tightly once again and grind down into his lap, feeling your already half hard cock thicken as blood rushes south. When your cock presses against his, even through your jeans, it feels as if warm honey is dripping down your spine, collecting and pooling in your belly. You watch as Aziraphales mouth drops open, eyebrows scrunching. His eyes are watching you, lustfully when you press down even harder. His head tilts backwards against the cushion and he groans from the contact.

“Oh!, oh, oh dear, that feels so good, I positively need to have you. Please my love, you’re so pretty, I love you so much,” Aziraphale begs, gasping on an inhale as his head comes back up to see your face again, moaning lowly when you grind your cock against his again.

“Fuck, yes. More than yes, I want you to make love to me so terribly bad, please,” you cry out, feeling your dick twitching in your jeans and pressing against your zipper. You bite your lip and move back and forth slowly in his lap, savoring the feel of his cock. You lean in and brush your soft lips over his neck, trailing sweet kisses up to his jaw and then up to his ear before you whisper against it.

“I love you, please, take me now Angel. I need you,” you say, voice edging on a whine. His fingers tighten brutally around your hips, as he moans from somewhere deep in his chest. He stares at you when you lean back in his lap, his eyes half lidded.

“Will you get naked for me my love?”, he asks, voice low and husky, smooth like butter. You feel a shiver vibrate through you, nodding quickly you stand up off the couch. You waste no time shedding your clothes until you’re in your briefs only, dick straining against your underwear. Aziraphales eyes roam up and down your body slowly, biting his bottom lip as he does. You fidget in place under his gaze and watch as the Angel pulls his cardigan off by the sleeves, tossing it aside as he reaches for the edge of the soft tee he was wearing. He pulls it up and off his head. It quickly finds its place on the floor. Your mouth goes dry as you finally see Aziraphale without a shirt on. Gods, he’s so pretty and so pale, squishy in all the right places. You notice his nipples are a soft pink color. Your cock throbs again.

“Sit down for me love,” he commands softly, raising up from the couch so you can take his place. You waste no time and sit down on the couch, letting your legs fall open so he can fit in between. He steps between them and you almost sob with joy as the Angel falls to his knees between yours, sitting on his calves, the action so seductive you feel like you could cum in your underwear. You palm your cock through your briefs, quickly squeezing your shaft and sigh at the brief relief and pleasure that sings through you. You know your cheeks are red as you focus on the Angel. You watch his hands as they come up and hook into your waistband, tugging gently, asking permission. Nodding eagerly, you remove your hand from your dick.

You lift your hips off the couch and he tugs them down urgently, slipping them off your legs. Your thighs fall open again and he runs his soft hands up the sensitive skin of your legs, pressing his thumbs into the creases between your cock and your thighs. It makes you jolt, cock bobbing up and smacking against your lower belly. You cry out, fingers digging into the couch cushion fiercely.

“Aziraphlale!” you whine. “Don’t tease me, I’ve been waiting for way too long for this.” Aziraphales lips tug into a cheeky smile, soft laugh ghosting over the flushed skin of your dick as he leans closer, gripping your inner thighs and pressing them apart even further.

“Darling, I’ve been waiting to get a taste of you for just as long.” Tongue flicking out to lick long, wet stripes from your balls all the way to your tip. You don’t have words to describe the electric like feeling that shoots down your spine. Your whole body erupts into goosebumps as he wraps his sweet lips around the tip of your cock. He sucks gently and your back arches so hard you think it might break. Your nails start feel like they’ll rip through the fabric of the couch.

“Fuck, oh fuck, that’s so good Angel,” you whine, as the wet, silky warmth of his mouth slides up and down your cock. Aziraphale hums around your cock, spit dripping down your shaft, cooling on your balls. His moan sends vibrations through your groin and a wail gets stuck in your throat, coming out as whine. The Angel swirls his tongue around your tip, running his tongue over your slit and bobs his head steadily. His fingers let go over your thighs and he smoothes his hands upwards to grab hold of your hips.

You feel close to you losing your mind, fingers tangling through his white curls harshly, as he sucks the life out of you through your cock. You don’t press on his head, just letting your hands flow with his movement. You melt into the back of the couch as you sink into the sensation of having your cock sucked on for the first time. You keep your eyes open, tilting your head downwards to watch your cock disappear into his pretty mouth again and again. Your belly twists warmly at the sight, making you throb against his tongue. Aziraphale makes eye contact with you and you whimper. He pushes your cock past the back of his mouth and into his throat, keeping you there. He doesn’t even gag.

“Oh my god,” you sob, feeling wrecked as your arch into his throat, fingers tightening in his hair. He sucks harshly as he brings his mouth back up, pulling off your cock with a lewd popping sound. You slump back onto the couch, whining at the loss of his pretty mouth. You notice his lips are even redder as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. You definitely don’t make a pathetic sound at that either.

“I know love, I bet you feel so good, getting your pretty cock sucked like that, I’m desperate to keep going though, is that okay my dear?” he asks, voice almost a a purr.

“Yes, please,” you groan, letting go of the Angels hair. He smiles sweetly and takes the moment to snake his hands under your thighs, making you squeak as he yanks you forward until your arse is close to hanging off the edge. He places your right leg up over his shoulder. You bring your left leg up to place your foot on the couch, leg bent at the knee. You feel your thighs flex in anticipation as you watch Aziraphale bring a conveniently lubed up finger to your arse. Butterflies fill your stomach and your eyes widen as you feel his finger circling your hole, massaging it gently.

“Is-is it gonna hurt?” you ask curiously, looking at his face. Aziraphales finger barely dips into your hole, making you gasp and he pauses. Gaze flickering up to look at your face, studying you. Your cheeks burn.

“Have you ever done this before love?” he asks gently, tilting his head slightly as he slips his finger in further, past your rim and to the last knuckle. Your head falls back onto the cushion, teeth clenching at the unfamiliar burn. You squeeze your hands into fists and you shake your head no, flushing even more with embarrassment. You bring your head back up slowly and make eye contact with the Angel. He starts to pump his finger and he’s watching you so intensely you squirm, skin tingling as the burn subsides. The sensation so new and overwhelming, you aren’t sure you’ll be able to take his cock.

“My dear, are you saying I’ll be the first one to make love to you?” Slowly sliding his finger back as he adds a second, pushing both of them in steadily all the way, slipping past any resistance easily. You let out a surprised noise and you push your arse down into the movement of his fingers, the stretch on your rim feeling like a dull throb.

“Yes! You’re the first one, fuck,” you curse. Aziraphale lets out an excited noise and leans forward to suck a bite into your chest, teeth nipping at your skin as his thick fingers stretch your arse. You feel a sharp pinch as he sucks the skin into his mouth, breaking the blood vessels, before soothing it over with his tongue. You moan his name sweetly and it makes the Angels dick twitch where it’s trapped in his pants.

“I can’t believe I get to be the first one inside of you my love,” Aziraphale giggles, nuzzling against the skin of your chest, moving to the left to swipe his tongue over your nipple once before leaning back, never stopping the rhythm of his fingers. You feel like you’re drowning in the sensation of his slick fingers dragging against your walls, fucking you open.

“Aziraphale, oh gods, just- I need you, please?” you ask, wanting to feel the Angels cock stretching you instead.

“Yes, yes of course my love, do you feel like you’re prepped enough?” he asks gently, looking into your eyes. You nod, bringing up a hand to brush your fingers over his chest. He bites his lower lip and you feel the Angels fingers slowly pull out, the strange sensation making you wince.

“It’s okay my love, I’m here, I won’t let it hurt okay? Let’s move on, I need to be inside of you just as badly,” he coos, letting your leg fall from his shoulder, you prop it up on the couch. It mirrors your other leg, both bent at the knee, feet braced up on the couch. You’re spread open wide like this, but you’re not embarrassed to be exposed to him. Your cock lays against your belly, flushed, unbearably hard and you can feel the the precum leaking from your slit, leaving sticky marks on your lower abdomen. Aziraphale watches your movements as he raises up from sitting on his calves to his knees so he’s lined up better with your arse.

“Can I see your cock now?” you ask casually, watching his hands move down to the button of his pants. He laughs softly, amused and his eyes track over your face.

“Of course my dear, I know you’ve been just gagging to see it. I bet you’ve thought about how it looks, and about how it feels. Haven’t you?” he teases, voice a bit condescending. You blush, embarrassed, because yes you’ve thought about how it looks and imagined how it would feel inside of you. Your pouting facial expression is enough of an answer for him and he bites his bottom lip, grinning.

You ignore his smug face and reach a hand out to run down his chest again, wanting to feel his, soft, pale skin under your palm. You scratch his skin lightly with your nails on the way down and it makes the Angel whine, his hands pausing on the buttons of his pants. You smile a bit smugly and he raises an eyebrow at you, hands moving, unbuttoning his pants and undoing his zipper. He yanks his pants down along with his briefs to the middle of his thighs. Your hand falls from his chest and your eyes open wide watching his thick, pink cock spring free, bobbing a little bit.

“Oh, oh shit, is that gonna fit?” you ask, voice incredulous and maybe a bit nervous.

“It will my love, I’m gonna make it fit,” he replies, ego definitely inflated at your comment. You hum anxiously in response and decide to wrap your fingers around the middle of his shaft, feeling the silky, warm skin. You’re in awe of how he fits in your palm, and you give him a squeeze. That pulls a delicious moan from the Angels throat and your blood ignites once again, pushing away your nerves.

“Okay, okay, that’s enough, c’mon Angel, make love to me,” you whine, looking into his eyes and you let go of his cock. He looks like he’s about to protest but he takes a deep breath and nods. He grips the base of his cock and scoots closer, rubbing the tip back and forth over your hole, teasing. You start to wiggle your hips, impatiently and then he grips your wrist with his free hand. He brings it to your cock and wraps your fingers around your shaft before letting go. You look at him questioningly.

“It’s your first time dear, it’ll make it less uncomfortable if you touch yourself at the same time,” he explains tenderly. Your heart flutters, warmth expanding in your chest at the fact the Angels making sure this will feel as pleasurable as possible. You smile lovingly at him as you squeeze the base of your cock. Your eyes flutter shut, pleasure tingling through your limbs. The blunt tip of Aziraphales cock presses against your hole and your eyes fly back open, legs tensing slightly, as you grip your cock tightly.

“Aziraphale,” you whine, feeling a bit panicked as your feel your arse start to stretch.

“Shh, it’s okay love, relax for me okay? You’ve gotta relax baby,” he soothes, feeling his cock press in just a bit more. He runs a hand over your inner thigh, in a comforting way. You nod your head, licking your own palm and starting to pump your cock slowly. The pleasure starts to make your lower half relax as it takes your focus off of the pain. Just like that you feel the tip of his cock pop in past your rim, he accidentally slides in a couple more inches before he stops, releasing the base of his cock and gripping roughly to the undersides of your knees, trying to keep still. You hear him moan lowly through his teeth. The pulses of stinging pain from the stretch rocks your whole body and you grit your teeth.

“Angel, ah, ah, it hurts,” you whine, continuing to jerk your cock, taking away some of the pain. Your free hand rests on the couch.

“Oh love, I know, I know, I promise it’ll feel good soon, do you want me to keep going?” Nails digging into your skin, still holding underneath your knees. You know he’s struggling to stay still, but you trust him, so you nod.

“Keep going please, I can do it,” you say, voice determined. Aziraphale leans forward, pressing his forehead against yours.

“I promise I’ll make you feel so good my dear,” he groans, voice strained as he pants, pressing forward, cock filling you all the way until his balls are pressed against your skin. You whimper and nod in response. You can feel him shaking a little bit and the skin of his belly brushes your knuckles as you move your hand. You cry out as you’re stretched to the max, you arse throbbing painfully as Aziraphale pulls his hips back, dick halfway out before pushing in slowly. Aziraphale leans back to straighten up, he presses on the part of your thighs he’s holding, pushing your thighs back towards you as he starts to thrust steadily. Your feet come off the couch where they were perched.

“Ah, ah, ah! Aziraphale!” you wail, fingers leaving your cock and both hands going to grip the cushions. You hold on, feeling like your nails are gonna rip through the fabric as the Angel tilts his hips upwards slightly and starts to continuously brush over a spot inside of you that makes lightening shoot up your spine, a spot that makes you forget you were ever in pain at all. The entirety of the throbbing ache gone as it melts into burning pleasure and you ask yourself why the hell you didn’t do this sooner. You look up to make eye contact with Aziraphale, jaw dropping open, eyebrows scrunching. His gaze is intense as he leans his weight further onto your thighs and subsequently into his thrusts. He’s letting out little moans as you choke out ah, ah, over and over again. You let your head fall back against the couch.

“Oh that’s it isn’t it love? Am I making your pretty arse feel so good? I promised I would,” he says, breathlessly as his hips slam into yours repeatedly, skin smacking together wetly.

“Yes! I-oh fuck, ah, ah, it’s so fucking good,” you lightly sob, starting to feel a strange sensation in your lower belly, like something’s winding up tightly. Your back starts to ache from being folded and you feel a throbbing start up in your cock. You watch it twitch on your belly and your hole starts to flutter. You look into Aziraphales eyes again, feeling flushed and slightly nervous. You watch the Angel struggle to keep his eyes open, feeling your arse clench around him and he notices the way your dick twitches repeatedly.

“Love, you’re about to cum,” he says incredulously, surprised and excited you’re going to cum untouched. Your eyes sparkle in realization. “Just lean into the feeling okay? Let it happen, I’ve got you.” Hips picking up a quicker pace as he thrusts in long and hard movements. You nod, hands coming up to grip the Angels arms for support. Aziraphale thrusts into you a few more times and you feel your orgasm build to a breaking point, knot releasing and your cock kicks hard, warm, sticky release shooting out onto your chest as your mouth opens letting out a howl of pleasure.

“Aziraphaallee!” you wail again, panting hotly as the Angel fucks you through your orgasm.

“Yes, oh yes, good boy, that’s it, cum for me darling. Ah hah, I’m going to cum, you’re so tight,” he rambles, words spilling from his mouth. You nod quickly, starting to come down from the blinding high of your own orgasm, legs shaky as you wrestle them free from his grip, he lets them go, taking a hold of your hips instead. You wrap your legs around his waist, and your arms around his neck. Your chests press together and you notice you’ve both started to sweat. Aziraphale presses even closer and nuzzles his face into your neck, breath warming your skin.

“Please, cum for me, I love you,” you whisper, hanging on to him, trying to push the feelings of overstimulation away. He thrusts in short, choppy movements a handful of times, feeling the way your slick, warm arse sucks his cock in over and over before he’s pressing all the way in, pleasure bubbling and melting its way through his limbs. He presses his mouth to your neck and whines loudly into your skin, vibrating through your throat as he fills you with sticky release. He relaxes his weight against your body and you melt back into the couch. You both catch your breath for a moment before you let your legs flop from his waist, feet landing on floor.

“How are you feeling love?” Aziraphale asks, pulling away from your neck. The skin of his chest sticking to yours as he pulls away. Your release now on both your chests.

“I’m, I don’t even know how to explain how good I feel Angel,” you laugh, only groaning a bit as he pulls his softening cock from you. You sit up on the couch, feeling a flashing sting of pain in your lower back. “Oh shit,” you say, hand bracing your back as you crack your spine, stretching the muscles.

“I think my knees are permanently welded to the floor,” Aziraphale groans, placing one hand on the couch cushion and one on the coffee table as he pushes himself up on shaky legs. His knees creak and pop as he stands. Aziraphale snaps his fingers absently, cleaning the mess they’ve made. You laugh at the sound of his knees popping.

“You okay there?” Standing up from the couch, you tease him and stretch your legs out. He glares playfully.

“You’re one to speak dear, I heard the way your back was cracking,” he jokes, tucking his cock away and buttoning his pants back up. He was still shirtless and you admired his bare chest, ignoring his jab.

“Hmm, touché,” you tease, seeing him reach for the shirt he discarded earlier, pulling it on over his head. You realize you’re still naked and you blush a little bit, hands moving to cover your cock. You shift your weight awkwardly, really not wanting to put jeans back on.

“Hey, uh, do you have any pajama pants I could borrow? I don’t really want to sleep in jeans,” you say shyly, looking away from him.

“Oh? You’re staying the night now?”He teases, obviously messing with you. Either way you feel embarrassment rushing through you. Your face must have looked mortified because the Angel quickly speaks again, waving his hands animatedly. “I’m just joking darling! Of course I want you to stay the night, here I’ll give you something to sleep in,” he says, snapping his fingers and a pair of soft plaid pajama pants appear in his hands. He holds them to you in outstretched hands, nodding happily at them. You narrow your eyes and snatch them out of his hands, slipping them on.

“You giant arse, you scared me for a second,” you grumble, also pulling on the soft long sleeve you had on earlier. Aziraphale laughs.

“ I know! I know, I’m sorry dear,” he says, stepping closer, small smile on his lips as he takes both of your hands in his. You lace your fingers together, feeling you’re so full of love you could burst at the seams. You smile in return.

“Fine I’ll forgive you this time, as long as you let me choose the next movie we watch,” you reply.

“That’s perfectly reasonable my dear.” Tugging on your hands so you both sit down on the couch again, he then lets go so he can pull one blanket up over both your laps. You feel satisfied and warm, like a cat who lays in the sunshine and a thought pops into your head.

“Promise me one thing Angel,” you say, pretending to sound serious as you turn your head to look at him.

“Of course, what is it love?” Aziraphale says, looking mildly concerned when he sees your serious expression. You break into a grin.

“I get to be the one to tell Crowley, he’s going to lose it when he finds out,” you laugh, moving to pick up the remote that had gotten flung to the floor earlier. You hear Aziraphales laugh ring out loudly.

“Yes yes, fine dear, you can be the one to tell the old boy,” he says, smiling brightly. You both lean back against the couch, snuggling together as you choose the next movie to watch. You feel happier now than you have in the last several thousand years. Thank gods Crowley had the idea for a suggestion box.

[ginnsbaker]

Rivers and Roads (Til I Reach You)

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

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

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

Masterlist

-

I

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

II

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

III

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, it's good,” she says.

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

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

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

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

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

IV

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

V

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She looks taken aback. “What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Her hand then reaches out, fingers lightly brushing yours. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yelena smiles.

“Always.”

VI

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

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

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

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

“You're serious,” you say.

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

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

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

“Where is she anyway?”

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

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

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

“No, I don't,” you reply tersely.

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

“Why do you ask?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

VII

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

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

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

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

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

Can’t help but feel protective of her.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

VIII

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you stalking me?”

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

“Worried? Why?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yelena hums, seemingly unsatisfied with your sentiments. 

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

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

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

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

“You knew?”

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

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

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

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

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

Starting with the death of your father. 

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

IX

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

X

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

“Have you ever been in love?”

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

“Got a crush on anyone, then?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Do I know them?”

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

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

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

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

That she’s talking about you. 

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

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

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

“She?”

Yelena freezes at her slip-up. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

XI

Days go by, and you start seeing Yelena differently. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

XII

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

XIII

The Romanoffs’ residence automatically becomes your refuge.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Panic flares in your chest.

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

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

XIV

You avoid Yelena at all costs.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

XV

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She arches an eyebrow, “Dense.”

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

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

XVI

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Semantics,” Yelena argues.

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

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

Your eyes widen. “But... Jeremy?”

She looks away, biting her lip. “That night you punched him? That night, it's supposed to happen. But…” She takes a deep breath, her eyes searching yours. “All I can think of is you being outside that room. I can't do it. I've always... I've always wanted it to be you.”

The fact that she hasn’t been with anyone makes you even more nervous. You want her first time to be memorable and good.

“Yelena, uhm,” you start, fidgeting under her gaze. “I have no idea what to do.”

Her thumb brushes over the back of your hand, a soothing gesture. “Neither do I. But that's okay. We have each other.”

“And if we mess up?”

She smirks a little, that playful glint returning to her eyes. “Then we mess up together.”

XVII

It’s a mess, but neither of you would call it ‘messing up’.

When you’ve removed the final piece of clothing off her body, you find yourself staring at the juncture between her legs, your mouth watering at the sight of it.

It’s a beautiful mess.

Yelena shifts slightly, drawing your attention back to her face. Those brilliant eyes of hers are watching you, filled with understanding and the smallest hint of amusement. “First time seeing one up close?” she teases gently, breaking the tension.

Your cheeks warm, but you don’t look away. “You could say that.”

She reaches out, her fingers gently lifting your chin, guiding you to meet her gaze. “It's okay. Remember? We're learning together.”

You nod, kissing her fingers before she lets go of your chin. 

“But please, touch me already,” Yelena husks out, arching her back and lifting her hips closer to your face in offering. “You’re driving me crazy.”

With that, you let go of your reservations, letting instinct take over. 

But you take your time.

You slide your hands under her buttocks, palming her cheeks and keeping her place just in case. The heady scent of her arousal draws you in closer, a fresh wave of wetness collecting between your own thighs. 

Tentatively, you stick your tongue out to touch its tip against the hood of her clit. The sharp intake of Yelena's breath and her subtle tremor give away her anticipation, making the corners of your mouth lift in a fleeting smile. It’s such a small action, and you can’t believe how responsive and needy she’s become.

“God, you're perfect,” you murmur, before flattening your tongue against her core and licking the entire length of her. Your eyes fall shut the moment you taste Yelena for the first time. She tastes as good as she smells, and you can’t help but repeat the act again and again. Each pass draws a deeper reaction from her, coaxing more wetness to cover the lower half of your face. As Yelena's responses intensify, you're grateful for your foresight in keeping her grounded, especially when she instinctively tries to pull away from the overwhelming sensations you're giving her. 

Opening your eyes, you’re met with the most gorgeous sight of Yelena–her fingers clutch at the pillows, pulling them close, while her body arches and writhes–a pure picture of ecstasy. 

Emboldened by her reactions, you focus your attention on her clit, drawing the sensitive nub into your mouth, letting a gentle suction build. The sound Yelena makes is sharp and unguarded, her fingers weaving into your hair, pulling you closer, urging you closer to her heat. 

The flush on Yelena's face intensifies, painting a path from her cheeks to her collarbone as you continue your ministrations. The squelching sounds created by your eager mouth intermingle with her breathy moans, the rustle of the sheets beneath, and your own low sounds of appreciation.

Sensing her impending climax, you momentarily cease the gentle suction, prompting a desperate plea from Yelena, “Please…” But before she can voice her needs, you plunge back in, your tongue swirling insistently around her sensitive nub.

With a final, muffled cry into the pillows, Yelena's body convulses, waves of pleasure coursing through her. You ease your movements, allowing her to ride out the aftershocks of her climax.

Gradually, Yelena's breathing steadies. The vibrant flush of arousal is gradually replaced by a more relaxed hue. Still nestled between her thighs, you place gentle kisses on her inner legs, giving her time to come down from her euphoric high.

Her fingers, previously tangled in your hair, begin to relax, though she doesn’t release you entirely. Instead, they trace delicate patterns along the nape of your neck and your shoulders. A contented sigh escapes her, and you can feel her legs relaxing around you, the earlier tension now but a memory.

Taking this as your cue, you wipe your mouth and chin and gently climb up, situating yourself beside her, pulling her into a close embrace. Her head rests against your chest, listening to the thud of your heart, which beats just as erratically as hers.

“You okay?” you ask softly, brushing stray strands of hair from her face.

She nods, her lips curving into a small, satisfied smile. “More than okay,” she murmurs, snuggling closer. “Thank you.”

You both lay there in comfortable silence, enjoying the warmth of each other's presence. The outside world feels distant, irrelevant. 

After what feels like hours but is probably just minutes, Yelena tilts her head up to meet your gaze, her eyes turning a darker shade of green again. 

“My turn,” she whispers, her hands already exploring.

A soft chuckle escapes your lips as you arch an eyebrow, the sudden role reversal causing a thrill of anticipation to snake through you. “Impatient, are we?" you tease, the hint of a smirk playing on your lips.

Yelena grins, her fingers deftly tracing a path along your collarbone, down your chest, eliciting a shiver from you. “Maybe I've just learned from the best,” she counters playfully, pressing her lips briefly against your neck.

She doesn't rush, taking her time, soaking in every one of your reactions. The softest of kisses to the inside of your wrist has you inhaling sharply. Yelena watches, a glint of mischief in her eyes, before repeating the action, this time lingering longer. Each delicate press of her lips feels like a brand, and you're aware of the rising heat that courses through your body, centered where you want her most.

The press of her thumb against your pulse point, just beneath your jawline, elicits an unexpected moan from your lips. She chuckles softly, clearly pleased with the discovery. “Found a new spot, did I?” Yelena whispers, her voice husky.

Your response is lost as her mouth travels down, her tongue painting a trail down your collarbone, causing you to arch into her touch. “Yelena…” your voice is a breathy plea, laced with desperation.

Her fingers splay across your abdomen, her touch light, almost ticklish. It's a stark contrast to the firm press of her lips against the soft flesh of your thigh. Your hands find her hair, urging her closer, but Yelena pulls away, teasing.

Her eyes meet yours, filled with a playful defiance. “Patience,” she chides, her hot breath against your skin sending another shiver down your spine.

The build-up is excruciating, driving you to your limits.

When her lips finally meet the wetness between your thighs, the sensation is electric. She starts by laying a series of soft kisses there, each one making your hips jerk slightly, seeking more of her. Her tongue dips into you, tasting, exploring, teasing.

Her fingers join in, sliding through your wetness, gathering it before pressing into you. The combined sensation of her fingers moving inside while her mouth focuses on your clit is almost too much to bear. The slick sounds of her mouth on you, combined with the rhythmic thrusting of her fingers, fills the room. The dampness between your legs grows with each pull and push, with every flick and suck she delivers.

As Yelena works her magic, she surprises you by letting her fingers wander further back, teasing the rim of your other hole. The unexpected sensation causes you to gasp sharply, eyes widening in surprise and a new sort of arousal.

“Trust me?” she murmurs against your heated skin, her voice a low rumble that sends another jolt of pleasure through you.

All you can do is nod, your usual articulateness lost to the whirlwind of sensation. With the slickness from your arousal aiding her, Yelena gently applies pressure there, testing, probing, adding a new layer to the pleasure. The combination of her mouth, fingers inside you, and this new, intimate exploration has you spiraling.

Your fingers clutch her head, guiding her, even as your back arches, pushing yourself further into her touch. Yelena, sensing your nearness to the edge, doubles her efforts. The world blurs out, every nerve ending centered on the wet slide of her fingers and the firm, insistent press of her mouth against your most sensitive spot. With a final cry, you come around Yelena’s fingers, leaving you trembling, soaked, and sated beneath her.

For a moment, there's nothing but the two of you—the heavy breaths, the shared warmth, and the intoxicating scent of your combined arousal.

Then, with a tantalizing slowness, Yelena extracts her fingers from within you. You can feel their absence keenly, the cool air hitting the warmth they've just left behind. As she brings her fingers to her face, the wetness on them catches the dim light, making your heart race even faster.

Her eyes, dark with desire, lock onto yours. You're held captive by that gaze, and then with a smirk, she slides her fingers into her mouth, sucking on them deeply, audibly. The sound, the sight of it, is almost too much.

“Yum,” she murmurs, her voice dripping with mischief and satisfaction. The single word breaks the spell, sending another jolt of heat through you. 

You don't even get a moment to process her bold move because, in the next heartbeat, you're overcome with a renewed surge of desire. Drawing Yelena closer, you can feel the slick heat of her pressing against you, the intimate wetness of your arousal mingling together.

The sensation of her clit, swollen and sensitive, rubbing against yours elicits deep, guttural moans from both of you. Your hands grasp her hips, guiding and urging her into a rhythm that sends sparks of pleasure ricocheting through your body. The room is filled with the sounds of skin on skin, punctuated by the wet slide of your clits moving together, and the heady scent of sex.

Yelena's eyes, half-lidded and wild, fixate on yours, capturing every reaction, every moan that slips past your parted lips. Her fingers dig into your hips, anchoring herself to you, as your bodies grind together, lost in wild abandon. 

Your hands cradle Yelena's face, bringing her mouth to yours. As your lips meet, the kiss is all-consuming—a frenzied mix of passion and urgency, the taste of you still on her tongue.

Your hips falter, and you can't hold back the whimper that escapes when you feel that familiar sensation above your groin. The sensation of Yelena's body moving against yours, combined with the feel of her lips and the taste of her mouth, pushes you closer and closer to the brink.

Your focus narrows to the point where the only thing that matters is the tantalizing friction between the two of you. Yelena's rhythm matches yours, her hips moving urgently against your own. 

“God... don't stop,” Yelena breathes into your ear, her voice shaky with need.

Your reply is caught by a moan as the coil in your belly tightens even more, threatening to snap. “Yelena…” you manage, voice raspy and broken.

Suddenly, her teeth bite down into your shoulder, making you gasp. “Sorry,” she mumbles against your skin, but you can hear the edge of ecstasy in her voice.

“It's okay,” you manage, voice strained with pleasure. “Feels... good.”

Yelena's hips grind unevenly against yours, the slickness between you both growing with each movement. Every thrust sends ripples of pleasure through you both, wetness mixing and coating your inner thighs, creating a deliciously slippery friction. You can feel the warmth of her arousal as it mingles with your own, the combined sensation dizzying.

“God... can you feel that?” Yelena gasps, her voice ragged and desperate.

“Yes,” you breathe, nearly overwhelmed by the sensation. The raw intensity of the moment, the feeling of her wetness against yours, is almost too much to bear.

“I'm close,” she warns, her voice strained.

“Fuck, me too,” you whisper back, lost in the sensation.

Suddenly, Yelena's body stiffens, her muffled cry against your shoulder sending vibrations straight to your core. The feeling of her release, warm and wet against you, combined with the bite of pain from her teeth, triggers your own climax. Your bodies shake together, still feeling the rush of pleasure even after the most intense moments have passed.

The room falls silent except for the sounds of your labored breaths and the gentle rustling of sheets. The rawness of the moment makes your skin tingle, and you become acutely aware of the warm stickiness between your thighs and the pulsating ache where Yelena had left her mark on your shoulder.

She pulls back slightly, her green eyes, now softened, searching yours. The corners of her lips tug upwards in a tender, adoring smile. “That was…”

“...unreal,” you finish, still catching your breath.

She chuckles lightly, shifting her weight to lie beside you. “Yeah, I didn't think... I mean, I hoped, but that was…”

“Beyond words,” you murmur, pulling her closer until she’s resting on top of you.

You both lay there for a moment, bodies intertwined, enjoying the afterglow. Yelena reaches out to caress the bite mark she left, a look of concern crossing her features. “Did I hurt you?” she murmurs, lips brushing against the reddened skin.

You wince slightly at her touch but shake your head. “It’ll bruise, but it's okay. Kind of like it, actually,” you say with a sly grin, making her laugh.

She leans down, pressing a gentle kiss on the bite mark, her lips lingering against your skin. “Sorry, I got carried away,” she mumbles against your shoulder.

“You have nothing to apologize for,” you reassure her, tilting her chin up to capture her lips in a soft, languid kiss. “But maybe we should clean up a bit.”

She nods in agreement, and the two of you untangle yourselves from the sheets. The air feels cooler against your flushed skin as you help each other clean up, using damp cloths to wipe away the evidence of your shared passion.

Afterward, Yelena snuggles close, her head resting on your chest, listening to your heartbeat. 

You drape an arm over her, fingers absentmindedly playing with her hair. “I’m glad it was with you,” you whisper, pressing a kiss on the top of her head.

“I love you,” she says, tightening her grip around you. Those three words nearly bring tears to your eyes as a surge of affection for the girl in your arms envelops you.

“I love you too.”

XVIII

You want it to last forever.

More than exploring each other’s bodies nearly every night, you want each moment spent with Yelena to last forever. You might think it's too soon, but honestly, it feels like you've known her forever. 

She’s it.

She’s the one.

Time, however, has its own pace. Before you know it, you and Yelena are receiving an email from Natasha herself that she will be coming home in two weeks. You can't help but feel a growing tension, a deadline looming over your idyllic world. But at the same time, you’re excited to have your best friend back.

One evening, as you both lay in bed, the soft glow from the streetlights outside illuminating the room, you broach the subject. 

“When Nat comes back,” you start, tracing patterns on Yelena's arm, “I want to make us official. Tell her about us.”

Yelena's gaze meets yours, and though she nods, there's a hesitation in her eyes, a shadow of doubt. “Of course,” she replies, but her voice lacks the enthusiasm you'd hoped for. But for now, you pull her close, not wanting to read much into things especially with how perfect the past few months have been.

XIX

The atmosphere feels different since Natasha’s unexpected return. 

A few days have passed, but the three of you continue to circle around each other, resembling planets in an unsure orbit. Yelena and Natasha seem wrapped up in their own reunion, while you tread carefully, waiting for the right moment to bring up your relationship with Yelena.

This evening, you find your opening. Yelena has stepped out, leaving you and Natasha alone in the living room, sitting at opposite ends of the couch. 

“Has Yelena told you anything recently?” you finally break the silence, your voice betraying a hint of nervousness. 

Natasha tilts her head, narrowing her eyes slightly. “What do you mean?”

“Did she mention something big? I mean… you were gone for quite some time and I understand if you’re shocked, but–”

“Uh, yeah, she did mention something,” Natasha interjects softly. “She got accepted to a program in Leeds.”

The world seems to tilt off its axis. Leeds?

“What?” you ask, failing to keep your voice down.

This is news to you. What’s going on?

“She’s leaving in ten days,” Natasha continues, looking at you curiously. “You didn’t know?”

XX

You only realize Yelena's been distancing herself when you hear about Leeds.

Even though you still see her every day, she's managed to avoid spending time alone with you. Every time the topic of informing Natasha about your relationship comes up, she finds an excuse to divert or leave. Now, she consistently includes Natasha in your plans, turning what were once dates into casual hangouts.

As school ends one afternoon, you spot Yelena's familiar figure quickly exiting the building, her pace hurried, as though trying to escape. It's evident she's avoiding running into you on her way home. You remember the desperation that had led you to skip your last class, just so you could finally confront her.

Taking a deep breath, you quickly catch up to her. 

“Yelena!” you call out. 

She pauses, her shoulders tensing, and then slowly turns to face you. There's a hesitance in her eyes, but you're determined.

“Why Leeds?” you blurt out, all your emotions hinging on that single question.

She exhales sharply, looking as if she's been cornered, her gaze darting around. “I... I applied a while ago. Before everything between us started.”

Your heart sinks. “Were you planning on just disappearing without saying anything?”

Yelena's eyes shimmer with unshed tears. “I was scared,” she admits. “I didn't know how to tell you.”

“That's not fair,” you say, your voice choked. 

She nods, biting her lip. “I know. I'm sorry.”

“I just...when did you apply?” you ask, trying to make sense of the timeline in your head.

“After Natasha told me about her own plans,” Yelena whispers. That was before you saw her in this new, intimate way, before everything between you two began. “I thought it would be best if I too had something to focus on.”

Your eyebrows furrow in confusion. “So you applied because Natasha was leaving? Why didn’t you tell me? We could have figured something out together.”

She sighs, her gaze drifting downwards. “It was a spontaneous decision, a way to cope with the changes, I guess. And then, you and I happened... It all went too fast. Before I knew it, I was accepted and suddenly, telling you became the hardest thing to do.”

The realization stings. All those moments, all those memories, and all the while, there was this looming secret she hadn't shared. “So,” you mutter, a tremor in your voice. “This was all just... a distraction for you?”

Yelena's eyes snap up, wide and filled with panic. “No! Never! It wasn't like that at all. What we had, what we shared, it was real for me. More real than anything I've ever felt.”

Your eyes blur as tears gather around your eyes. “Then why Leeds? Why not tell me? Why not give us a chance?”

You find yourself repeating the questions, hoping that if said enough, they might somehow reshape the truth, making it easier for you to accept and move on.

“I didn't want to put you in that position," she confesses, her voice breaking. “To make you choose or feel tied down. I love you too much for that.”

You exhale deeply, gritting your teeth in order to hold yourself together. “Yelena, love also means being honest and facing challenges together."

“I know,” she whispers, unable to hold back her own tears. “I'm so sorry.”

The world around you seems to blur. “So, is this it? Are we just... done?”

She hesitates for a moment, searching your eyes for understanding. “I don’t want to hold you back, and I need to focus on this new chapter. It wouldn’t be fair to either of us.”

Nodding slowly, you muster the strength to say, “Goodbye, Yelena.”

XXI

For several days, your room's four walls become your entire world. Natasha, sensing something amiss, checks on you with growing concern. When she questions your seclusion, you blame it on a virus, claiming it's safer for you to stay isolated. But the truth is, your heart is shattered, and you can't bring yourself to share the painful reality with your closest friend.

At first, Yelena's messages are filled with apologies, each one dripping with regret. But as the days go by, her tone shifts. There's worry evident in the string of texts that asks if you're okay, questions about your health, pleas for just one response.

Then, as silence from your end persists, the messages take on an edge. “Is this really how you want to handle things?” one of them reads. “After everything, you're just going to shut me out completely?”The accusations sting, but you're in so much pain already that it hardly makes a difference.

A particularly scathing text catches your eye one evening: “I thought we meant more to each other. Is this really how you want us to end?”

The screen blurs in front of you as tears threaten, leaving you torn between reaching out and honoring the goodbye you've already given.

XXII

Seven long days of silence later, something shifts within you. 

Distance can't be an end. You can't let it. You decide it's time to act, to see Yelena, to tell her that you’re willing to put in the work despite the long distance.

Pulling on a jacket, you make your way to her house. Your mind races, framing and reframing the words you want to say, the assurances you want to give, the hope you want to share.

As you approach the house, you immediately notice the absence of music from the living room. Yelena always ensured a playlist was playing in the background, a comforting constant whenever they were home. That familiar comfort is missing now, replaced by an unsettling silence. A knot of unease forms in your stomach. You knock, hoping against hope.

The door opens, and there stands Natasha, mildly surprised to find you at her doorstep. 

“Hey! Wasn't expecting you today,” she greets with a lightness. “You here for Yelena?”

You nod, trying to find your voice. "Yeah, I wanted to talk to her."

A puzzled look crosses Natasha's face. “Oh, she said she talked to you a couple of days ago. I thought... Anyway, she took an earlier flight this morning. I assumed she told you?”

The ground seems to fall away beneath you. You manage a weak smile, masking the wave of emotions threatening to overwhelm you. “I must've missed that. Thanks, Natasha. Maybe I’ll just text her…I think I left something on at home. Better head back.”

You retreat before Natasha can ask any more questions, literally running out of the house before you fall apart in front of her.

Reaching your place, you shut the door behind you, leaning against it as if trying to barricade yourself from the outside world. Your phone buzzes with a message notification. It's from Yelena: 

I'm sorry.