#i love the transition between the two parts

[fallen5t4r]

to anybody who believes that peter pettigrew was left out of the group during their time at hogwarts i have a freaking bone to pick with u

firstly that makes no sense, if he was already a sort of outcast from the group then it would’ve been clearer from the beginning that he would be more inclined to turn on them which as can be seen in canon didn’t happen, nobody suspected him, isn’t that telling. They were all friends just admit u don’t like his character instead of blaming lack of content with him on the argument that “he betrayed them later anyway” or “he was a death eater” then love barty evan and regulus.

secondly, you’re just simplifying his character down so much to the point he is so two-dimensional, a rock has a better storyline than him. You complain abt a lack of complex characters yet totally disregard his entire character and story which is so complex and realistic to how humans behave. You’re denying yourself so much content from hogwarts time and war time and the transitional period between the two.

Now what I believe is that peter was an definitely part of the marauders, no kid is born evil. He had to have been a decent person growing up if the secret of Remus’ lyncanthropy and becoming animagus’ were shared with him in the first place. That’s why his betrayal hurt so much. Could you imagine someone who throughout your childhood you considered a part of your found family someone you experienced the ups and downs of your teenage years with and then out of fear and cowardice and selfishness they betray you. I also believe that peter was either threatened with death or was under the imperious curse.

Ok that’s all thank you for listening to my ted talk

[drakonovisny]

i hope hozier performs de selby on the concert this winter 😩

[oflgtfol]

∞ :D

"and you think love is to pray / but i'm sorry i don't pray that way"

from tainted love / where did our love go by soft cell

( put a "∞" in my ask box and I'll shuffle my music player and give you my favorite lyric from the song that comes up )

[physalian]

How to Make Your Writing Less Stiff Part 3

Crazy how one impulsive post has quickly outshined every other post I have made on this blog. Anyway here’s more to consider. Once again, I am recirculating tried-and-true writing advice that shouldn’t have to compromise your author voice and isn’t always applicable when the narrative demands otherwise.

Part 1

Part 2

1. Eliminating to-be verbs (passive voice)

Am/is/are/was/were are another type of filler that doesn’t add anything to your sentences.

There were fireworks in the sky tonight. /// Fireworks glittered in the sky tonight.

My cat was chirping at the lights on the ceiling. /// My cat chirped at the lights on the ceiling.

She was standing /// She stood

He was running /// He ran

Also applicable in present tense, of which I’ve been stuck writing lately.

There are two fish-net goals on either end of the improvised field. /// Two fish-net goals mark either end of the improvised field.

For once, it’s a cloudless night. /// For once, the stars shine clear.

Sometimes the sentence needs a little finagling to remove the bad verb and sometimes you can let a couple remain if it sounds better with the cadence or syntax. Generally, they’re not necessary and you won’t realize how strange it looks until you go back and delete them (it also helps shave off your word count).

Sometimes the to-be verb is necessary. You're writing in past-tense and must convey that.

He was running out of time does not have the same meaning as He ran out of time, and are not interchangeable. You'd have to change the entire sentence to something probably a lot wordier to escape the 'was'. To-be verbs are not the end of the world.

2. Putting character descriptors in the wrong place

I made a post already about motivated exposition, specifically about character descriptions and the mirror trope, saying character details in the wrong place can look odd and screw with the flow of the paragraph, especially if you throw in too many.

She ties her long, curly, brown tresses up in a messy bun. /// She ties her curls up in a messy brown bun. (bonus alliteration too)

Generally, I see this most often with hair, a terrible rule of threes. Eyes less so, but eyes have their own issue. Eye color gets repeated at an exhausting frequency. Whatever you have in your manuscript, you could probably delete 30-40% of the reminders that the love interest has baby blues and readers would be happy, especially if you use the same metaphor over and over again, like gemstones.

He rolled his bright, emerald eyes. /// He rolled his eyes, a vibrant green in the lamplight.

To me, one reads like you want to get the character description out as fast as possible, so the hand of the author comes in to wave and stop the story to give you the details. Fixing it, my way or another way, stands out less as exposition, which is what character descriptions boil down to—something the audience needs to know to appreciate and/or understand the story.

3. Lacking flow between sentences

Much like sentences that are all about the same length with little variety in syntax, sentences that follow each other like a grocery list or instruction manual instead of a proper narrative are difficult to find gripping.

Jack gets out a stock pot from the cupboard. He fills it with the tap and sets it on the stove. Then, he grabs russet potatoes and butter from the fridge. He leaves the butter out to soften, and sets the pot to boil. He then adds salt to the water.

From the cupboard, Jack drags a hefty stockpot. He fills it with the tap, adds salt to taste, and sets it on the stove.

Russet potatoes or yukon gold? Jack drums his fingers on the fridge door in thought. Russet—that’s what the recipe calls for. He tosses the bag on the counter and the butter beside it to soften.

This is just one version of a possible edit to the first paragraph, not the end-all, be-all perfect reconstruction. It’s not just about having transitions, like ‘then’, it’s about how one sentence flows into the next, and you can accomplish better flow in many different ways.

4. Getting too specific with movement.

I don’t see this super often, but when it happens, it tends to be pretty bad. I think it happens because writers feel the need to overcompensate and over-clarify on what’s happening. Remember: The more specific you get, the more your readers are going to wonder what’s so important about these details. This is fiction, so every detail matters.

A ridiculous example:

Jack walks over to his closet. He kneels down at the shoe rack and tugs his running shoes free. He walks back to his desk chair, sits down, and ties the laces.

Unless tying his shoes is a monumental achievement for this character, all readers would need is:

Jack shoves on his running shoes.

*quick note: Do not add "down" after the following: Kneels, stoops, crouches, squats. The "down" is already implied in the verb.

This also happens with multiple movements in succession.

Beth enters the room and steps on her shoelace, nearly causing her to trip. She kneels and ties her shoes. She stands upright and keeps moving.

Or

Beth walks in and nearly trips over her shoelace. She sighs, reties it, and keeps moving.

Even then, unless Beth is a chronically clumsy character or this near-trip is a side effect of her being late or tired (i.e. meaningful), tripping over a shoelace is kind of boring if it does nothing for her character. Miles Morales’ untied shoelaces are thematically part of his story.

Sometimes, over-describing a character’s movement is meant to show how nervous they are—overthinking everything they’re doing, second-guessing themselves ad nauseam. Or they’re autistic coded and this is how this character normally thinks as deeply methodical. Or, you’re trying to emphasize some mundanity about their life and doing it on purpose.

If you’re not writing something where the extra details service the character or the story at large, consider trimming it.

—

These are *suggestions* and writing is highly subjective. Hope this helps!

[taintandviolent]

Taco Tuesday ; Gambit x reader!

summary: You live across the hall from Wade Wilson, and one Tuesday, he invites you over for tacos. 🌮 And that’s where you meet him. The Gambit. Post-Void, everyone got out alive and everything is fine. [PART TWO HERE]

word count & w a r n i n g s: 5.4K | smut with very little plot, alcohol mention, slightly drunk (but very consenting) reader, French and typing out accents/dialects, pet names (cher, mon ami, mon coeur, etc.), dirty talk (cos he is a dirty talker, don't argue with me on this), fingering, unprotected sex, p in v, no use of y/n.

a/n: this is based 100% on Deadpool and Wolverine Gambit / Channing's version of Gambit!! sorry for the lack of plot here, he deserves better than this filth, but I am down ASTRONOMICALLY and I needed to get it out. I spent so much time trying to get his accent right, I hope it comes off the way I wanted it to... anyway! i'm not certain if anyone will read this, but if you do - thank you a million times over! as always, requests are open! - banner by @/strangergraphics, and Remy gif by @scintie!

↓ full fic under cut! ↓ / ao3 link here! / I don’t have a taglist anymore, but please turn on post notifications if you’d like to be notified of future fics!

He’s handsome. Like really handsome. 

Your stomach does a flip as he smiles at you, reaching for the bottle of Jack between your legs — wait. Pause. Rewind. How’d we get here?

Living in the same apartment complex as Wade Wilson was a trip. Even more of a trip was living across the hall from him. The things you heard coming from that apartment... nobody would believe you. So, you never told anyone. 

He’s kind. Albeit, zany but kind. Your interactions have been cordial and nauseatingly neighbourly. But on one regular ol' Tuesday afternoon, Wade invited you inside. He said something about having a party later that night, making tacos and being neighborly. He assured you that it wasn't a sex party... which to be honest, you weren't worried about until he'd mentioned it. Against your better judgement though, you'd agreed, and said you'd bring some liquor.

So, that evening, you opened your door, one bottle of Jack tucked under your arm, and another in your left hand. You shut the door to your apartment and walked straight across to your neighbour’s door. Your fist had rapped against the wood only twice before the door swung open, revealing Wade, and a very… strange and very bald looking dog in his arms. 

"Oh, what the fuck?" You asked, looking down at the creature. "I didn't know you had a dog…?"

Wade’s voice rose an octave or two, in a cutesy tone. "She's a new addition, yes she is!" 

"I brought... well, this. Sorry, it was all I had in my cabinets and to be perfectly honest, I wasn't about to go out and spend money on this. I like… barely know you."

"HA! Brutal honesty. We love to hear it." 

Wade took hold of your shoulder and yanked you inside, harsh enough that you made a small sound as he did. He shut the door with his foot, and towed you towards the table, where everyone was gathered. And that was when you first saw him. He wore all black, save for a tan trench coat with a high collar. He lounged casually on one of the dining chairs, playing with a deck of cards. They fluttered from hand to hand effortlessly, and for a moment, you were stuck, mesmerized by the dexterous way he handled them. You weren't sure what was pulling you towards him harder, your heart or your cunt, but you felt an undeniable draw to the man.

Wade's arm wound itself around your shoulders, guiding you around the room to meet each of his friends. At that point, living next to him, mutants were a forced transition. You were used to the concept of them, so meeting a giant silver man, for example, wasn't unexpected. Vanessa was the most normal - you were pretty sure she was human.

Finally, he got to the one you really wanted to meet. The one that your eyes had been darting back and forth to the entire time, the one that when he briefly met your gaze, your heart thudded in your chest. 

"And this... handsome slice of man, is the Gambit. Good luck understanding him, he's a real mouthful."

I’ll bet he is, you thought. 

He pocketed the cards in a quick motion and stood up from his chair. With a syrup-smooth chuckle, the man laughed and said: "You can call me Remy." He did in fact have a thick Cajun accent and spoke quickly – almost too quickly. You blinked once, focusing hard on his words.

"Remy," you repeated finally, before saying your own name and extending your hand. He took it gently and as he shook it, your palm tingled with what felt like electricity.

"Enchanté." (Enchanted)

Your cheeks burned, and you knew they were flushing. You couldn’t control it. "De même..." (Likewise.)

His brows lifted, surprised. "You speak French, mon ami?" (my friend) 

"Heh, uhh... comme un enfant." (Like a child) You chuckled low, averting your eyes for a millisecond. "I took a few years of it in high school and again in college. I’m by no means an expert."

Wade's eyes were wide, flicking back and forth between the two of you. There was obvious chemistry there, and a knowing smirk drew itself across his lips. Abruptly, he yanked one of the bottles of Jack Daniels from beneath your arm, before leaning against the nearby wall.

"Oh, fuck me. You understand Gumbo here? That’s cute. No idea what either of you are saying though, someone forgot to turn the subtitles on. I'll leave you two to get acquainted." Whatever that meant. You scoffed, but turned your attention back to Gambit, looking at him.

“Sit a while, cher.” 

You happily took the chair that he pulled out, not caring that it was facing away from the others, and plopped down onto it, situating the other bottle of Jack between your legs. You gripped the neck of the bottle tightly, and looked at him with a timid, but a come hither sort of smile. After a moment, you twisted the cap off, and flicked it off somewhere to your right. Wade would find it later, or he wouldn’t. You didn’t really care. 

You two talked for hours, most of which consisted of him telling you about the Void, and how hard it had been, while you pretended to comprehend it. Between words, you passed the bottle back and forth, taking mouthfuls, and inadvertently swapping spit as you did. The thought occurred to you about halfway through the conversation, and your stomach tightened. You shook your head lightly and clenched your thighs together, trying to stave off the arousal that was bubbling in your core. 

There we go. That’s better.

He’s handsome. Like really handsome. 

Your stomach does a flip as he smiles at you, reaching for the bottle, which was still situated between your legs. His fingertips just graze the side of your thigh and his eyes flit to yours. He holds his smile, waiting for you to either protest or move the moment forward, and all you can do is gawk, because your cunt starts throbbing. 

As the evening wears on, though cautious, it’s obvious that Remy feels the same pull that you do. He remains cool on the outside, but internally, he was battling the magnetic tugging he felt from you. He couldn't shake it. He’d compliment you, you’d compliment him. At one point, in between sips, you casually drop that you think his accent is hot and he whispers something underneath his breath, something you don’t understand. Before either of you realized it, you had started to lean closer to each other, your faces inches apart, and you felt the warm rush of his breath over your cheeks.

It was as if you both realized it simultaneously. You rear back, an embarrassed expression plastered on your face. Remy clears his throat. His attraction to you was stifling; something that he rarely felt. He was powerless in his want for you, the draw you had was irresistible.

"Maybe we should... uh..." You murmur, looking deep into his eyes. In a room full of people that were starting to fade away the closer you two got to each other, you were thankful you were still sober enough to suggest a different setting. Any longer and you surely would’ve just straddled him and gone to town. 

Remy moves first. 

"We gon' take a walk." He announces to the others, getting to his feet. 

The conversation stops abruptly, silence hanging heavy. You straighten up, trying your best to avert your gaze, but you still see everyone’s reaction. Someone clears their throat and your heart sinks, feeling like you might die on the spot. The one that had been introduced as Logan, gruff looking dude, raises a single brow at you. In true Wade-character, he ugly cackles, shattering the moment. Your shoulders sink, embarrassed, as you head towards the door, doing the proverbial walk of shame. 

Remy meets you at the door and pulls it open, holding it for you. You duck underneath his arm, looking sheepish and as you exit into the hallway, you think you heard Wade mutter something about a fanfiction but Remy yanks the door shut before you can react. 

“You want to… get some air? Or um… I have… well, no I had liquor, but I brought it to Wade’s.” 

He smiles, and looks down at the floor, before lifting his eyes back to you. “We can do whatever you want, chère. You ain’t gon’ catch me complainin’ eitha’ way.”

You chew on the inside of your cheek, considering the options. Your heart was hammering in your chest at the prospect of just being near him without the others around. You two had been close to kissing in Wade’s living room, and now, you had the opportunity to continue that… or take a walk. The latter seemed less appealing. 

“Y’know what, why don’t we… just…” You take a few steps backwards, jerking your head towards your front door. Concerningly, you had forgotten to lock your door. However, it allows you to open it quickly, and walk backwards into the apartment. Gambit follows you in, his attention never leaving you. 

"You sure 'bout dis, mon ami? I can walk away righ' now." His words land heavy, a promise behind them. He was a gentleman at heart, you could tell. Fortunately for him, you were very sure, and wanted every inch of him.

Mon ami - something that in the few hours you'd spent with him, he'd called you often. Among other things. Mon ami meant my friend, but you knew you two weren't just friends. You saw how he acted with others, and the comments he made. Sure, he had a quick wit and a mouth on him, but the flirting... god, the flirting.

He stands in the doorway, his shoulders filling the frame. Silently, you nod and take another step back, giving him some room to enter. He takes one wide step towards you, leaving the door open behind him. He reaches for your hip, and you immediately take to playing with his large hands. Delicately, you pay attention to each long digit, trailing your middle finger along the knuckles, and up and down the length of them. You dip into the spaces between, your fingers barely ghosting over the webbing. 

Was that a shiver? Your eyes flit to his, searching them for a hint.

"You sure do know how to make a man feel good." 

Your heart flutters at his words. With his accent, even the simplest of things sounded charming. At least to you. You felt that he could ask if you wanted coffee or how the weather was and you'd be twirling your hair around your finger like a desperate schoolgirl. Embarrassing. 

You’re about to respond and defend yourself by saying that all you had done was play with his hands, which was hardly considered foreplay, but his fingers come up underneath your chin, gently closing your mouth with a dull click of your teeth. He tilts it upwards to an angle where he could easily kiss you. And kiss you, he does. 

It was the kind of kiss that makes your knees buckle, sends a violent shudder from the nape of your neck down to the base of your spine. It’s the kind of kiss that needs to come with a warning; Danger: Will Result In Sex. As his lips move against yours, you feel the urgency of his need, of his want, and hum into his lips. Remy takes that as a green light and deepens the kiss, moving his body so that it’s pressing flush against yours. The action leaves you immediately breathless and in response, you break the kiss, tucking your chin to your chest. Your hand finds his torso, pressing hard against the muscles underneath the shirt.  

"Ah, don't you be actin' shy now. You been teasin' me for hours."

“I have not!”

“You think I didn’t notice all ‘dem touches an’ looks you were givin’ me? I may ‘ave been born at night, but I wasn’t born last night.” 

He had you there. You couldn’t deny that, at all. Even if you’d wanted to. Which, part of you did. Part of you was very nervous, standing before this very handsome man, with the taste of his mouth still lingering on your lips but another part of you, the louder one, was delighted that he’d noticed. Furthermore, that he’d enjoyed them enough to come to your room.

You lift your hand behind him, pushing the door shut with a harsh shove. With a twist of your fingers, you activate the locking mechanism, sliding the deadbolt into place. Gambit chuckles, grinning down at you. Your heart leaps into your throat, but you press on bravely, lacing your arms around his neck. They trail down the front of his body, feeling the muscles as they twitch with each ragged breath. 

He quirks a brow as if to ask, 'Oh, really?' You simply smirk back at him. The contact is electric, and you find yourself resisting the urge to grind against him immediately. Instead, you focus on his hands again, bringing one of them up to your lips. You press a delicate kiss on the pads, before slipping one into your mouth and sucking gently. Remy makes a deep, husky sound in his throat, and brings his other hand to your hip, where he pulls you roughly against him.

For a man that uses his hands often, the sensations are high. The way your mouth envelops his finger, your tongue writhing around the digit had his jaw clenching, muscles fluttering on the side of his face. When you draw his finger into the confines of your throat, deep-throating it, his eyes roll back in pleasure. He pulls his hand back, shaking it off as if the inside of your mouth was hot to the touch.

"Woo, you nasty, huh? Nevah’ woulda' guessed... you been actin' like a good little girl 'uhround me." 

After that, it all happened very quickly. Gambit takes a step and connects his lips with yours again, pushing them into you in an act of desperation. Without breaking the kiss, he shrugs out of his jacket, tossing it onto a nearby surface. You push against him until his back hits the door with a heavy thud, definitely loud enough for any innocent bystanders to hear. Your fingers undo the button of your jeans, breaking the kiss for only a second to slide them down your legs. 

Once you return to his waiting mouth, the kiss deepens and the coil in your stomach winds tighter, claiming your body in a deep, fiery arousal. His big arms wrap around you, enveloping you in a heated embrace. Just for a moment, it’s tender — but shortly after, his hands drop to your ass, fingers slipping underneath the band of fabric to take greedy fistfuls of each cheek. 

Your hands find their way to his shoulders, gripping the roundness of them to use as leverage. Letting out a little hum, you sweep your hips across his groin, pressing tightly against him. His eyes drift shut, head bumping against the door as he leaned it back, a low growl coming from his throat. Keeping at it, you grind your hips against him, feeling the outline of his length as it hardens.

“You be drivin’ Remy crazy, grindin’ on me like ‘dat.”

“That’s the intention….” You stand on your tiptoes to pepper kisses on his lips, your warm breath fanning over his face, smelling faintly of Jack Daniels. Remy trails his hand carefully up your rib cage until he gets to the side of your breast, where he quickly slips around to the front, his large hand cupping the fullness of it outside of your shirt. Your reaction is visceral; your breath hisses through your teeth at the sensitivity. 

Remy laughs again and with his free hand, pulls your hips back to his. Swiftly, he spins you around, pinning you between his body and the hard surface of the door. He presses himself tightly against you, shifting slightly so that his thigh was between your legs. The sensation of something that close to your core is dangerous and brings a weak, mewling whimper from your mouth.

“We gon’ have ourselves some fun.” His voice is low, tinged with a new sort of lustful tone that you hadn't heard before. Your mind is spinning, growing dizzy with lust. The alcohol had certainly helped your nerves, you were never usually this brazen. Your core burns with desire at his words, silently begging for everything he was about to give you. His lips hover just over yours; you can feel his breath on your skin and the heat that radiates off his body as it presses into yours.

"Oh my god," you whisper into his mouth. "Fuck..."

His teeth nip at your bottom lip before he captures your mouth in a heated, passionate kiss again. His tongue explores the inside, swirling along your own wet muscle. With every passing second, your heart beats faster and his hands grip your hips tighter, thumbs massaging the flesh above your jeans.

“Wrap ‘dem legs around me, mon coeur.” (My heart) Remy’s voice is husky with want; amongst his playful, lilted tone, a possessiveness lingered, and the thought sends a chill down your spine. He nods once, encouraging you into his waiting arms. You jump up, and he catches you effortlessly, gripping your thighs tight and hoisting you up into his grasp. Feeling secure, you wrap both legs around his waist and encircle his neck with your arms. Your gaze meets his and you can see the wanton need mirrored in his own eyes, darkened with desire.

Remy's smirk is dripping with confidence. Your body's response to him was causing his ego to swell within his chest, and his cock to swell within his pants. He leans in close, his lips against your ear, nipping at the lobe softly before pulling back slightly. In one fluid movement, his hips buck up against your center, teasing you over the layers of clothing. You let out a moan, throwing your head back against the door.

He thrusts up into you again, chuckling low against your ear. The hard line of his cock grinds against you, making you stutter out expletives as it presses against you with a needy demand. 

"You like 'dat, cher? Talk t' me..."

You nod, swallowing and wetting your throat. "Y-yeah, fuck... I do... need you – it – so bad."

“Whaddya’ need?”

“N-need you… so bad.” 

“You can do betta’. Tell Remy what you need...” 

He presses you harder against the door, your back sliding against the wood as he kisses a trail down from your mouth to your shoulder, sucking and biting with all the right intensities. As his hips grind against yours, you feel the damp fabric slide across your cunt, alerting you to just how wet he’d made you. Fuck. 

“Need… need you to fuck me. Hard. Need to feel you everywhere.”  

A few hours ago, you’d agreed to Taco Tuesday at Wade’s. Now, you were getting dry humped by a really hot Cajun guy and moaning into the curve between his neck and his shoulder. You were positive that if someone opened their door, they’d hear you. Somewhere in your brain, the thought should have been moderately embarrassing, but you were far too invested in Remy to care. 

Without warning, Gambit lifts you away from the door and carries you to the nearby couch. He never breaks the kiss, still feverishly claiming your mouth as he moves. Your back hits the cushions and before you can process it, his body weight is on top of you. He slots himself in between your legs, and his hard-on bumps into your stomach as his hips rut against you, finding some relief in the friction. But not enough. 

Remy’s hand finds the hem of your shirt, lifting it just enough to allow his fingers underneath the fabric. You bite down on the pillow of your bottom lip and push your hips up into his. Thick, strong digits sweep across your skin, leaving a burning trail of fire in their wake. Every touch brings your temperature up, and it isn’t long before your entire body is consumed in flames. You sigh contentedly, arching up into his touch. 

Abruptly, Remy straightens up, crosses his arms over his torso and pulls his shirt over his head, revealing his tan skin and bulky muscles. His stocky stature makes your tummy clench with anticipation. He was fit, as you assumed, but that didn’t stop your jaw from falling open at the sight. 

“Wow,” you finally choke.

Remy grins. “You like what you see?” 

You nod furiously, hands snapping to his toned abdomen. He’s warm and his skin is soft, begging to be touched. The muscles flex underneath your fingers as you trace a long stripe from his belly button to his collarbone. Your hands claw at his shoulder, attempting to pull him back down on you, but he resists. 

He spoke with a playfulness, almost a sort of pleading. His thumbs flicks at the hem of your shirt. “Ah, c’mon, ‘dat ain’t fair. Enlève-tout toi, huh?” (Take it all off.)

You thought you understood, but if you didn’t, it didn’t matter. Remy was quick to translate his words, busy undressing you, pulling your worn t-shirt over your head, and reaching around your back to unclasp your bra. Most men would’ve fumbled with the clasp, but not him. His adept fingers make quick work of it, allowing your breasts to fall free. He throws your bra somewhere behind him. 

“Hooo, cher…!” His eyes light up at the visual and you feel heat blooming on your cheeks again, half expecting him to make a lewd comment. Instead, his hands cup your tits, kneading the soft plumpness like dough, thumbs grazing the nipples. He exhales through his mouth, jerking his head to the side. 

Finally, he kisses you again. It’s wet and sloppy and his mouth is consuming you, tasting you hungrily. His hips are still moving, sweeping into yours with a calculated precision. You try to spread your legs but the back of the couch thwarts your attempt. He notices this, watching as you struggle with the space. 

“You got a bed?” He asked in between smearing kisses along your neck and collarbone. 

“Yeah-yeah…. Down the hall.” 

“Remy be needin’ more room for what he wanna’ do t’you.”

His weight is suddenly gone from you, an unwelcome sensation, even though you know he’s about to carry you wedding-style down the hallway. He bends down, one arm sliding underneath your neck, the other in the crook behind your knees. For the second time that night, he lifts you into his arms.

You rest your cheek against his warm pectoral muscle, rocking back and forth, as he walks you both down the dark hallway. The only light in the room comes from the window, the city outside alive and humming. Carefully, Remy sets you down on the bed, unmade from this morning, your dark gray sheets cool to the touch. 

In nothing but your underwear, which at this point, are damp to the touch, you’re left feeling very exposed. But you can’t muster up any shame, not when he’s looking at you with such hunger, such want. Your tummy feels tight, and the feeling gets worse when Remy’s hands drop to his waist, unzipping and unbuttoning his pants. They fall loose at the waist, and he shucks them down the rest of the way, leaving him in nothing but a pair of deep purple boxers. Your eyes swing heavy to the outline that’s now presented to you. 

Oh my god. 

Your breath hitches in your throat. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise; Remy was a big guy, and that proved true downstairs, too. You can barely pull your eyes away from it, but you begrudgingly rip them away, to look up into his gaze. 

“Please,” you beg. “You’re too far away…” Your cunt is aching and nothing but him, his hands, his dick, will sate her. 

He leans forward, flattening both hands on the mattress and walks them back until his face is in front of yours. He sweeps you into another kiss and your heart races. His hands are perfectly positioned on either side of your hips, you feel them graze the flesh. His finger hooks around the elastic of your panties, twisting it around his pointer finger and gradually, he tugs them down over the curve of your hip.

You nod lazily against his mouth, as you feel the warmth of his hand near your core. Your legs drop apart, knees touching the mattress as you allow him access. One hand sweeps across your inner thighs, stroking them, while the other palms your soft mound. His other hand comes to pause at your knee, and pushes his weight into it softly, forcing you to stay spread-eagle for him. No way you could’ve done this on the sofa. 

There’s no hesitation in the way he fingers you; sweeping up through your slick folds, smearing your arousal around until she’s coated in it, splaying your pretty, wet cunt apart with his fingers, looking upon it hungrily. He knows what he’s doing, and how to do it right. You briefly wonder if that’s another mutant power he has… though being an expert at fingering someone seems outlandish. But he’s just so good at it. His middle finger barely touches you, circling the bundle of nerves delicately. Your back arches up towards him, a desperate groan vibrating your vocal chords. Delighted by your reaction, his finger flicks upwards at your swollen, sensitive clit, making your body literally quiver. 

“Uhugh – god…. Shit, oh my god.” 

He continues like this for several minutes, until your cunt is blazing hot and clenching with every moan you give. 

By the time he presses one finger inside, you’re teetering on the edge of an orgasm and your voice fills the room with needy, desperate sounds. You let out a shrill whine, and he slips in another finger, feeling the stretch of muscle as he does. His heart is pounding in his chest, overcome with lust. The way you sound, the way your body is moving and writhing on the bed, he can’t wait to sink himself into you. 

Amidst a laugh, he says: “People gon’ think we up in here watchin’ porn.”

Did he just insinuate that you sounded like a pornstar? You lifted your head, wearily, to look at him. Your chest heaves with each breath as you try to formulate a snarky remark to no avail. He looked so good – well, always – but he looked particularly good on top of you, his bright eyes lust blown and hungry. 

“We’re… we’re… porn… it’s…  oh god.” 

He shushes you. “You just lay back and keep moanin’.” 

Defeated, you huff and your head hits the sheets again, but not before you catch a glimpse of the way the muscles in his forearm ripple as it pumps back and forth into your cunt. You can’t help but moan at the sight, feeling a shockwave rupture your core. Your hips meet his fingers, rutting and writhing against the mattress in a needy rhythm.

Your first orgasm claims your body before you can stop it. You’re clenching around his fingers as they move, crooking upwards into your sensitive spots. Your slick coats his fingers and when Gambit pulls his hand back, thick, clear strands string from between them. He smiles down at you. 

Remy raises himself to his knees. “Turn ‘round…” 

You flip over and back yourself towards him, thinking that he’s going to go at it doggy-style, but to your surprise, he pulls you upright, pressing your back against his chest. His dick is hot between your legs, and when he reaches down to line it up, you let your head loll back against his shoulder. Gambit’s mouth finds the side of your neck, streaking it with wet, suckling kisses. He was taking his time with you, savouring you and you hum happily through closed lips, reaching behind you to thread your fingers through his hair.

“Fuck, you feel so good…” Instinctively, your hips undulate and his cock slips between your folds. Remy’s hips buck once, letting out a groan that comes from somewhere deep. 

“You ready, cher?” He asks, sweeping your hair away from your neck. You nod furiously. You’ve been ready – you were ready the moment you laid eyes on him.

Remy reaches down to sweep his fingers along your entrance briefly, before gripping himself and guiding the head of his cock into the slit. You keen at the feeling of his velvet-soft head pressing into your entrance, warm pre-cum leaking from the slit. He murmurs words of encouragement into your ear as you feel his hips press against your ass, urging his thick, veiny shaft inside your cunt. He does it gently, allowing you time to adjust to the girth, but the sting still makes you cry out. “Fffuck!”

He begins to thrust his hips shallowly, your cunt stretching around his cock. The feeling is all-consuming, and your body feels heavy in his grasp. One hand is gripping your waist tightly, the other, fingers splayed out on your stomach just above your cunt. There’s a pressure building in your cunt, and each thrust magnifies it. The sting of his cock fades to an ache, then to a dull throbbing that makes you want more and you lean forward slightly and press your ass into the curves of his hips, meeting his thrusts. 

“Mm, ‘dat’s it, cher…” His voice is hot on your skin. 

His thrusts get deeper, but there’s a lingering tension in his body that makes you feel like he’s not getting what he wants. You’re right; all at once, Remy pulls his cock from you and switches positions. 

You’re suddenly on your back, looking up at him as he looms over you, all muscle. His cockhead nudges your entrance again, but doesn’t penetrate. 

“Say my name, cher… I needa’ hear it leave ‘dat pretty mouth.” 

“Which one? Gambit? Or Remy?” You ask, breathlessly.

The way his eyes rolled back at the second option told you everything you needed to know. A smirk twisted your lips cruelly and you lifted your body slightly, just enough for your mouth to reach his ear. You moan his name over and over again, knowing full well the effect it’s having on the mutant man.

“Remy, Remy, Remy….” Your tone is high-pitched and whiny, but he seems to enjoy the lewdness of it all. He bucks his hips hard into you, and the fullness reaches an all-time high as he bottoms out, his pelvis hitting yours with a slap.

“Huhhh—!” You gasp, breathing ragged. “Fuck!”

“Gonna’ make you cum so hard you ain’t gon’ walk right for days.” His voice is low and filthy and leaves a stain on your mind. Your cunt clenches around him possessively, pulling him somehow deeper inside of you. 

As your head bangs into your headboard, the tip of his cock bumps your cervix over and over again, and your jaw goes slack, literally fucked silent. Remy hears the thudding of your skull and puts a hand between it and the wood, but he doesn’t stop his relentless, deep thrusting. 

The pleasure reaches a peak and your nails dig into his back, leaving crescent moon shaped indentations on his golden skin. Remy’s groaning loud into your ear as he cums, muttering in an almost incoherent melange of French and English. His accent is somehow heavier, and you can barely make out the words as he’s saying them into your skin. It doesn’t matter though, because you feel how full you are, and Remy’s hot, white completion is leaking out the sides and staining your sheets. 

He stays like that for a moment, hovering on top of you. His cock softens inside, completely spent and eventually, he slips it out, rolling over onto your bed.

“Ah, joi de vivre, huh.” (the joy of life), he says drowsily.

You laugh, and nestle underneath his arm, in the space he’s left for you. 

If you had your way, you’d do it all over again. 

Though he doesn’t say it, so would he. 

[natsaffection]

Im glad i’m not the only one who saw 4ngel1v’s ai pics!! It just brewed up another idea! I told you it would be soon.

Think about Gp Nat as a beefy bodyguard and reader is like a famous singer or actor🤷‍♀️. And they didn’t meet on great terms, but reader ends up hiring nat and whatever it was between them grew. But thing is that they couldn't distinguish their tension from hate. One thing that reader could distinguish though, was Nats jealousy. SO LIKE A YKYK ENEMIES TO LOVERS BUT RLLY SLOW PROCESS TO LOVERS n smuttyy🤭

“What’s with the attitude, you weren’t as grumpy earlier?”

“Loosen up a little, it’s fine to be a risky once in a while, Natasha”

“You’re giving me a handjob at YOUR premiere. We’re thinking of two different versions of risky.”

-💋

I'm not going anywhere. | N.R

Bodyguard!Natasha x Younger!Actress!Reader

Warnings: 18+! MINORS DNI! G!P Natasha, Age gap ( R is 22 and Nat is 32) Inappropriate behavior, so much teasing, kinda handjob, begging, rough sex, pet names, angst

Word Count: 9,5k

A/N: Okay, when this is posted I'll be driving 200 km/h on the highway for the next 36 hours. So I hope everything works out, because I don't have the chance to reply right now 🫶🏼🥸

Thank you my lovely anon, you served again 🌚 I really enjoyed writing this, even though I was very carried away

You were born and raised in a small, picturesque town in the heart of the countryside. Your parents, both teachers, instilled a love of learning and creativity in you from an early age. Your mother, an English teacher, often read you classic literature at bedtime, sparking a lifelong passion for storytelling. Your father, a drama teacher, introduced you to the world of theater and encouraged you to participate in school plays and local theater productions.

As a child, you were curious and imaginative, often inventing elaborate stories and characters in your head. You were very popular in your community for your kind heart and lively personality. Despite your small-town upbringing, you always dreamed of something bigger and longed for the excitement and opportunities that lay beyond the boundaries of your hometown.

At 16, your life took a decisive turn when you attended a summer acting camp. The camp was located in a bustling city, a stark contrast to your quiet hometown. There, you met aspiring actors, directors, and producers and for the first time, felt like you belonged. Your talent was quickly recognized by the camp leaders, who encouraged you to pursue a career in acting.

Upon returning home, you were more determined than ever to follow your dreams. You participated in every theater production you could to hone your craft and build a portfolio of diverse roles. Your parents, though initially concerned about the uncertainty of an acting career, wholeheartedly supported you and believed in your talent and dedication.

At 18, you moved to Los Angeles, the hub of the entertainment industry. The transition was daunting, you were a small-town girl in a sprawling, fast-paced city. You faced numerous rejections and challenges, working several part-time jobs to make ends meet while attending auditions and acting classes.

Your perseverance paid off when you landed a small role in an independent film. Though the role was minor, your performance caught the attention of a prominent casting director. Impressed by your natural talent and screen presence, the director recommended you for an audition for an upcoming blockbuster film from a major studio.

Nervous but excited, you gave your best at the audition. Weeks later, you received the life-changing news: you were cast in the lead role of the blockbuster film. The film was a huge success and catapulted you into the spotlight, making you an overnight sensation.

The sudden fame was overwhelming. You went from an anonymous aspiring actress to a celebrity constantly in the public eye. Paparazzi followed your every move, tabloids speculated about your private life, and fans demanded autographs and selfies everywhere you went. Although you were grateful for your success and the opportunities it brought, the lack of privacy and constant scrutiny were challenging.

Despite the challenges, you remained grounded, thanks to the support of your family and close friends. You continued to focus on your craft, taking on diverse roles to prove your versatility as an actress. You also used your platform to advocate for causes you believed in, earning you respect and admiration beyond your acting abilities

You are known for your down-to-earth personality and genuine kindness. You cherish your close circle of friends and often retreat to your hometown to escape the pressures of Hollywood and reconnect with your roots. Your parents remain your biggest supporters, proud of your achievements but always reminding you of the values they instilled in you.

In your free time, you enjoy reading, painting, and exploring new hobbies. You are a passionate traveler and find inspiration in the various cultures and stories you encounter. Despite your fame, you strive to lead a relatively normal life and appreciate the simple pleasures that keep you grounded.

4 years later.

The evening of the premiere was a whirlwind of flashing cameras, excited fans, and palpable excitement in the air. You, dressed in a stunning gown that perfectly captured your rising star status, had just finished a series of red carpet interviews. You felt a mix of excitement and nerves; this night was special not only because of the premiere of your new film but also because you were nominated for an award for another project. It could be the night you finally take home the coveted trophy.

As the event continued, you felt the familiar but inconvenient need to use the restroom. The premiere was in full swing, and you needed to be on stage soon. You made your way through the bustling crowd, your heels clicking on the polished marble floor of the grand theater.

Finally, you spotted the restroom sign and quickened your pace. But as you reached the door, you encountered an imposing figure: a tall, striking woman with piercing eyes and an aura of authority. Dressed in black, the woman stood guard in front of the restroom door, her stance rigid and alert.

"Excuse me, I need to use the restroom," you said, trying to maintain your polite demeanor despite the urgency of your situation.

The woman, whom you would later learn was Natasha Romanoff, did not move. "The restroom is occupied." Natasha replied sharply and unyieldingly. "Okay, surely there is a second stall..." you pleaded, glancing at the closed door behind Natasha.

Natasha's eyes narrowed slightly. "You'll wait.“ Your patience was running thin. You were a rising star and not used to being dismissed so abruptly. "Come on, I need to go, please. This is really important."

Natasha's expression remained unmoved, her voice cold and professional. "I don't care where you need to go. My instruction is to ensure no one enters until it's clear. Now step back."

Frustration boiled within you. You couldn't believe this woman didn't recognize you, given the number of posters and billboards plastered with your face. "Listen, I understand you have a job to do, but so do I. And if I can't use the restroom right now, there will be a disaster."

Natasha smiled and leaned in slightly, "Then you'll have to hold it, sweetheart."

You were taken aback by the dismissive tone. You opened your mouth to retort, but before you could say anything, the door behind Natasha opened, and another actress emerged, thanking Natasha for her vigilance. The actress’s eyes widened when she saw you.

"Oh my God, Y/N! Congratulations on the nomination, I loved your performance in the last film.“ the women gushed, clearly impressed. You forced a smile, still simmering with frustration. "Thank you. I'd love to chat, but I really need to use the restroom." The women looked at Natasha with a mix of surprise and something different. "Did you talked to her?“

Natasha's gaze remained unwavering and ignoring the question of the Women. „The restroom is free now." she said, stepping aside without acknowledging the women’s comment. You didn't waste a second and hurried past Natasha with a grateful nod. Inside the restroom, you took a moment to breathe, still fuming from the encounter but also somehow fascinated by the unyielding bodyguard.

When you emerged a few minutes later, you felt much calmer. Natasha was still there, like a sentinel. You couldn't help but feel a sense of challenge. You weren't used to being treated like an ordinary person, and part of you found Natasha's attitude both infuriating and refreshing. Without a word, you walked past Natasha, not giving her a second glance. As you walked away, you heard Natasha call after you: "Next time, plan better."

Your cheeks flushed with anger. You clenched your fists and kept walking, refusing to give Natasha the satisfaction of a response. The audacity of this woman! You couldn't believe how rude and dismissive she had been.

The energy in the grand theater was electric. The audience buzzed with excitement as the prestigious awards ceremony reached its climax. You, still feeling the irritation from the encounter with Natasha, took a deep breath as you awaited the announcement of the award. The presenter, a well-known acting veteran, took the stage and held the envelope containing the winner's name. "And the award for Best Actress goes to..." He paused for dramatic effect, letting the suspense build. "Y/N L/N!"

The room erupted in applause and cheers. Your heart raced as you stood up, your initial frustration forgotten in the wave of exhilaration. You moved gracefully to the stage, your gown sparkling under the bright lights. As you accepted the trophy, you couldn't help but smile at the outpouring of admiration and support from your peers and fans.

With the trophy in hand, you took a moment to collect your thoughts before beginning your speech. "Wow, this is incredible. I can hardly believe I'm standing here holding this award. First, I want to thank the cast and crew who made this film possible. You are all amazing, and I couldn't have done this without you."

As you continued your speech, your eyes wandered over the crowd, taking in the sea of faces. Then you saw her. Natasha. Despite the distance, Natasha's piercing gaze was unmistakable. Your smile faltered for a brief moment, but you quickly recovered. Natasha watched you intently, a slight smile on her lips. When your eyes met, Natasha winked.

The gesture, small but significant, sent a wave of annoyance through you. You could feel your cheeks heat up, not from embarrassment, but from the irritating coolness of the woman who had previously dismissed you so rudely. You continued your speech, trying to ignore the irritation under your calm facade.

"...And finally, I want to thank my family and friends for their unwavering support. You believed in me, even when I didn't believe in myself. This award belongs to you as much as it does to me. Thank you all." With a final wave, you stepped off the stage, your mind racing. The applause followed you, but your thoughts were fixated on Natasha. It was infuriating.

Backstage, you were surrounded by well-wishers and photographers, but your thoughts kept drifting back to Natasha. You couldn't shake the feeling that your paths would cross again in a significant way..

A few days after the awards ceremony, your agent called you with concerning news. "Y/N, we need to talk about your safety for your tour. There have been some..incidents." You frowned, recalling the increasing number of intrusive paparazzi and overly enthusiastic fans. "What kind of incidents?"

"Threatening letters, suspicious individuals trying to get close to you. It's getting serious, and we think it's time for you to consider a professional bodyguard." You sighed. The idea of having a bodyguard felt like a double-edged sword. You valued your privacy, but recent events had made you feel vulnerable. "Alright, who do you have in mind?"

Your agent hesitated for a moment. "There's someone highly recommended, but she has a... unique style. Natasha Romanoff.“ Your eyes widened. "You must be joking."

"No? She's one of the best in the field. Her methods are unconventional, but she gets results. Given the current situation, I think she's the right person for the job, plus she’s available now.“ Your mind raced back to the Gala night, the unyielding stance, the cold demeanor, and that infuriating wink. But if Natasha was as good as they said, it might be worth a try. Reluctantly, you agreed.

The next morning, Natasha arrived punctually at the agreed time at your residence. Dressed in her usual black, she looked every bit the seasoned professional. You opened the door, your expression a mix of annoyance and curiosity. "So, we meet again." Natasha nodded, her face impassive. "Hello, sweetheart. Patience today?"

You crossed your arms and stood firm. "Just so we're clear, I don't need you to treat me like a child. I can take care of myself." Natasha's lips twitched into a barely perceptible smile. "Noted. But my job is to protect you, even if you don't like my methods." You felt a flicker of the same irritation you had experienced at the Gala. This was going to be an interesting arrangement, to say the least.

A few weeks after the charity gala, you attended a book signing event for one of your favorite authors. The bookstore was packed with fans and media, all eager to catch a glimpse of the rising star. Natasha, as always, was nearby, scanning the crowd for potential threats.

As you chatted with fans and signed autographs, you felt a growing unease. One particular fan, a middle-aged man, lingered closer than seemed appropriate. His intense gaze and the way he approached you made you uncomfortable.

"Hello, can I take a photo with you?" the man asked, his voice overly eager. You forced a polite smile. "Of course," you said, posing for a quick photo. As you tried to move on to the next fan, the man grabbed your arm.

"Wait, you looked so good in the last movie... your style and all..." he said, tightening his grip. Your smile faded, and you tried to pull your arm back. "Please let go."

The man's grip only tightened, and he began reaching into his pocket. Before you could react, Natasha stepped in. She moved with lightning speed, prying the man's hand off your arm and positioning herself between you.

"Step back." Natasha ordered, her voice cold and commanding. The man looked startled but did not move. "I just wanted to give her something!"

Natasha remained unmoved. "I said step back. Now." The intensity in Natasha's eyes and the firmness of her voice finally got through to the man. He stepped back and disappeared into the crowd. Your heart was racing, but you felt a wave of gratitude toward Natasha. "Thank you.." you said, your voice shaking. Natasha nodded, her eyes still scanning the crowd. "Time to go."

At home, you couldn't shake off the day's events. You sat on the couch, replaying the encounter in your mind. Natasha stood nearby, her stance as rigid as ever. "Are you okay?" Natasha asked, her voice softer than usual You nodded. "Yes, just... a bit shaken." Natasha sat across from you, her expression unreadable. "You handled it well. But you need to be more aware of your surroundings. Fans can be unpredictable." You sighed, feeling a mix of frustration and gratitude. "I know. I just didn't expect that."

"That's why I'm here," Natasha said, her tone firm but not unkind. "To expect the unexpected and keep you safe." You looked at Natasha, seeing her in a new light. Despite the rocky start, you realized how much you had come to rely on Natasha's presence. "I appreciate it.“

Natasha gave a crooked smile, a rare expression on her otherwise stoic face. "Just doing my job, princess." You rolled your eyes at the nickname but couldn't suppress a small smile. "You're impossible, you know that?" Natasha's smile widened. "And you're stubborn. I think we make a good team."

In the following weeks, your relationship developed further. There were still plenty of tensions and your share of arguments, but a mutual respect began to grow. Natasha's relentless professionalism and your determination to live your life on your own terms created a dynamic that was both challenging and oddly comforting.

One evening, as you were preparing for another public appearance and saw the crowds you had to move through, you stood closer to Natasha, her presence calming you. Natasha raised an eyebrow, her lips forming a teasing smile. "Careful, princess, it almost looks like you actually like me." You laughed and shook your head. "Don't push it, Romanoff. But, since you're here..." Natasha's smile softened a bit. "Anytime."

Despite the nicknames and teasing, there was an unspoken understanding between you both and you couldn't deny Natasha's skills and dedication. Natasha, for all her toughness, began to see the determination and drive behind your fame and youth that had brought you to this point. Slowly, you began to understand each other and formed an uneasy alliance.

Next up was another film premiere, where you were the guest of honor. The tension between you was palpable again, fueled by your contrasting personalities and constant proximity.

While you were getting ready, you felt Natasha's eyes on you, checking every detail. "You know, you don't have to watch me like a hawk." you said, your tone sharper than intended. Natasha leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. "It's my job to watch you."

"I can take care of myself." you snapped, turning fully to face her. Natasha's eyes narrowed. "Really? Because from where I stand, you've been pretty naive about the dangers around you."

You felt stung by the implication. "Naive? Just because I'm younger doesn't mean I'm clueless. I've worked hard to get here, and I don't need you undermining me." Natasha pushed off the doorframe and stepped closer. "And I don't need you questioning my every move. You hired me to protect you, and that's what I'm doing. If you don't like my methods, find someone else."

You glared at her, frustration boiling within you. "Maybe I will! I can't stand you treating me like a burden." Natasha's jaw clenched, her eyes flashing with anger. "You think I enjoy this? Looking after a spoiled little girl who doesn't appreciate what I do?"

The words hurt more than you cared to admit, and tears sprang to your eyes. "I'm definitely not spoiled! You don't know anything about me! And you know what? You are i-impossible, Natasha! I've had enough of your condescending attitude."

Natasha took a deep breath, clearly trying to rein in her temper. "Fine. Maybe I'm impossible. But at least I'm doing my job. You want to fire me? Go ahead. But don't come to me when everything falls apart."

You refused to let your tears fall. But Natasha saw them. "You're so arrogant... Do you even care about anything other than your job?" For a moment, Natasha's eyes softened, and you thought you saw a hint of regret, but it was gone in an instant. "I care about keeping you alive, even if you don't see it."

You turned away, struggling to compose yourself. "Just leave me alone for a moment." Natasha gave a curt nod and walked out, leaving you alone with your thoughts. You felt a mix of anger and guilt, knowing that despite everything, Natasha was right. The world you lived in was dangerous, and you needed someone like her to protect you.

Later that evening, you stood on the balcony of your hotel room, staring at the city lights. The day's events played over in your mind, and you felt a pang of guilt for the harsh words you'd thrown at Natasha. You heard the door open and turned to see Natasha, her expression unreadable. "Can I join you?" Natasha asked, her voice surprisingly gentle. You nodded, and Natasha stepped onto the balcony, leaning against the railing next to you.

"I'm sorry," you said after a moment of silence. "For what I said earlier. I didn't mean it." Natasha glanced at you, a hint of a smile on her lips. "I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have called you naive... and a little girl." You sighed and ran a hand through your hair. "It's just... this whole situation is new to me, okay? I'm not used to someone constantly having to watch over me."

"I know," Natasha said quietly. "And I'm not used to working with someone so... spirited as you. But I'm here to protect you, Y/N. Whether you like it or not." You couldn't help but laugh. "Spirited, huh? That's one way to put it." Natasha's smile widened. "You're tough, I'll give you that. But you need to trust me."

You nodded, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders. "I trust you. Even if you drive me crazy sometimes." Natasha chuckled. "The feeling is mutual, princess." You rolled your eyes at the nickname but couldn't suppress a smile. "Thank you, Natasha."

"Anytime," Natasha replied, her tone sincere. She looked at you, and before you could think too much about it, you turned and impulsively kissed Natasha on the lips. Natasha stiffened for a moment, then returned the kiss, her lips moving confidently against yours.

Your heart raced as you kissed Natasha, a surprising warmth flooding through you. As you pulled back slightly, you felt something firm press against your hip. Your eyes widened in surprise as you realized what it was. Natasha smirked, clearly noticing your reaction.

"Surprised?" Natasha asked, her voice deep and teasing. You nodded, still a bit stunned. "A little. I didn't see that coming.“ Natasha's smirk widened, a hint of pride in her eyes. "Well, I'm full of surprises."

You felt a blush creep over your cheeks, but you couldn't help but joke to cover your own nervousness. "Didn't know bodyguards got excited so easily." Natasha's eyes darkened with something more than just amusement. She leaned in closer, her breath warm against your ear. "Only when it's worth it."

Your breath caught as Natasha's hand lightly traced over your back, sending shivers down your spine. Natasha's presence was overwhelming, and you felt your heart pounding in your chest. Natasha leaned over you slightly, her lips brushing your ear. "You're playing a dangerous game, princess," she murmured, her voice husky with desire.

Your cheeks burned, and you felt a wave of excitement that both thrilled and embarrassed you. You opened your mouth to respond, but no words came out. Natasha straightened up, an amused glint in her eyes as she stepped back. "Get some rest," Natasha said, her voice returning to its usual calm tone. "You have a big day tomorrow."

With that, Natasha turned and walked back into the hotel room, leaving you standing on the balcony, your mind racing and your body buzzing with emotions. As you stood there, the cool night air brushing your skin, you knew that things between you and Natasha would never be the same again. When you lay down that night, replaying the memory of the kiss and Natasha's teasing words, you couldn't help but smile, your heart racing with excitement and curiosity about what the future would bring.

Your schedule had become a whirlwind of appearances, interviews, and fan interactions as you toured to promote your latest film. Everywhere you went, enthusiastic fans awaited you, clamoring for autographs and selfies. Natasha was always close by.

One afternoon, you were at a signing event in a busy city. The line of fans stretched around the block, and you took time with each person, chatting and taking photos. However, Natasha noticed a pattern: you were livelier and smiled brighter when interacting with your female fans. It was something you did unconsciously, but Natasha picked up on it.

During a break, Natasha couldn't resist commenting. "You really come alive around the ladies, don't you, princess?" she said, her tone teasing but with a hint of something else. You raised an eyebrow, noting the subtle undertone in Natasha's voice. "What's that supposed to mean?" Natasha shrugged, a smirking smile on her lips. "Just an observation. You seem to enjoy their company more."

You felt a spark of defiance. Remembering the balcony scene and Natasha's teasing nature, you decided to push it further. If Natasha wanted to tease you, you'd give her a taste of her own medicine. "Maybe I do," you said, your tone playful. "Is that a problem?" Natasha's eyes narrowed slightly, but she maintained her cool demeanor. "Not at all. Just interesting to watch."

You decided to take it up a notch. For the rest of the event, you made an extra effort to be even more attentive with your female fans. You laughed louder, leaned in closer for photos, and gave their conversations more attention. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Natasha watching, her jaw tensing slightly.

You found it immensely amusing. You liked seeing the usually unflappable Natasha show a bit of emotion, especially jealousy. It gave you a sense of power in your otherwise tense dynamic.

Later that evening, you returned to the hotel. You were in high spirits, still buoyed by the interactions of the day and the success of your plan to annoy Natasha. As you entered the hotel suite, Natasha finally spoke. "You really enjoyed today, didn't you?“ You turned to her, a mischievous glint in your eyes. "Oh, I did. It was a lot of fun. Especially to see how you lose your composure"

Natasha's eyes flashed with a mix of frustration and something deeper. "My composure? I have not lost my composure." You stepped closer, lowering your voice to a teasing whisper. "Sure looked like it to me." Natasha's gaze hardened, but there was no denying the hint of jealousy there. "Careful, Y/N."

You felt a thrill at the challenge in Natasha's voice. "Nope." Natasha stepped closer, the tension between you crackling like electricity. "You're testing my patience." You smiled, enjoying the power you held in this moment. "And what are you going to do about it?"

Natasha's eyes darkened with desire, and she stepped closer, her body only inches from yours. "Do you really want to know?" Your heart pounded in your chest, the air between you thick with tension. "Maybe I do.“ Natasha leaned in, her lips brushing your ear. "Don't forget who you're playing with, princess. I don't give in easily."

You felt a shiver run down your spine, but you refused to back down. "Good. Neither do I." Natasha's smile widened, and for a moment, you thought she would kiss you again. But when Natasha turned and walked away, you couldn't help but feel a mix of frustration and excitement. You had pushed Natasha's buttons and gotten a reaction, but you knew that this game you were playing was far from over.

In the following days, you continued to tease Natasha, finding new ways to provoke her jealousy. You found it incredibly amusing to see the normally composed bodyguard show signs of possessiveness. And despite the tension, there was an undeniable thrill in your interactions. Natasha seemed to enjoy the challenge as well. She never backed down and always met your provocations with her own brand of teasing and intensity. Your relationship was a constant back-and-forth, filled with playful banter and underlying desire.

The evening of the final premiere had arrived, and you were in your hotel suite, getting ready for the event. Your hair and makeup team were putting the finishing touches on your look, ensuring every detail was perfect. You wore a stunning dress that hugged your curves in all the right places, the shimmering fabric catching the light beautifully. You looked every bit the star you were, ready to captivate the crowd and cameras.

As you admired your reflection in the mirror, the door to your suite opened. Natasha walked in, looking as composed and confident as ever. She wore her usual black ensemble but had her jacket casually slung over her shoulder, and her blouse was unbuttoned just enough to reveal a hint of her toned chest. The sight made your heart skip a beat, and you hated yourself for finding Natasha so attractive.

Natasha's eyes scanned over you appreciatively, a small smile playing on her lips. "Well, don't you look like a million dollars tonight." You rolled your eyes and tried to hide your blush. "Thanks. You don't look too bad yourself."

Natasha chuckled and stepped closer. "You really know how to turn heads, princess. Try not to cause too many heart attacks out there." You felt a mix of irritation and something warmer, more exciting. "I'll do my best." you said, your tone half teasing, half serious. Natasha's smile widened. "Remember, I'm here to protect you. Can't have you distracting me too much." You laughed and shook your head. "I'll try not to be too much of a distraction."

Natasha's gaze lingered on you for a moment longer before she nodded. "Good. Ready to go?" You took a deep breath and cast one last look in the mirror. "Ready."

The red carpet was a flurry of activity, with flashing cameras and cheering fans. You moved gracefully through the crowd, stopping for interviews and photos. Natasha was always nearby, her eyes scanning the surroundings for potential threats. Despite the busy environment, your mind was elsewhere. You had been thinking about the ongoing game with Natasha, the back-and-forth of your interactions, and the growing tension between you. Tonight, you decided, you would take it a step further.

As you entered the theater for the premiere, you could feel the electricity in the air. You excused yourself from the group of people you were with and moved to a quieter part of the lobby. Natasha followed you, her vigilant eyes missing nothing. "Everything okay?" Natasha asked, her tone professional but with a hint of curiosity. You turned to her, a playful glint in your eyes. "Oh, I just needed a moment. It's so hectic out there."

Natasha nodded, her stance relaxed but alert. "You should have thought of that before." You stepped closer, your hand lightly brushing Natasha's arm. "You weren't so grumpy earlier. What's with the attitude now?"

Natasha raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued but cautious. "I'm not grumpy. I'm just doing my job." You smiled, your hand sliding down to Natasha's waist, your fingers tracing the edge of her pants. “Loosen up a little, it’s fine to be a risky once in a while, Natasha.”

Natasha's eyes darkened with desire as she realized your intentions. "You're giving me a handjob at your premiere. We're thinking of two different versions of risk." You leaned in, your breath warm against Natasha's ear. "Maybe I like my version better." Your hand moved bolder, stroking over the bulge in Natasha's pants. Natasha gasped, but quickly placed her hand over yours to stop your movements. Her grip was firm, and a smirking smile played on her lips as she leaned closer, her voice a soft, seductive whisper.

"You think you're clever, don't you?" Natasha murmured, her breath hot against your ear. "If you keep this up, I'll have you on your knees, begging for more. I'll fuck you so hard you won't be able to walk straight for a week." Your heart raced at Natasha's words, a shiver running down your spine. You felt a mix of excitement and nervousness, your breath hitching.

Natasha stepped back slightly, her eyes meeting yours. "You have no idea what you're getting into, princess." You tried to regain your composure. "Then show me." Natasha's smile turned dangerous and seductive. "Not here. Not now."

Your heart raced, your mind buzzing with anticipation. You stepped back slightly, your eyes meeting Natasha's. "When then?" Natasha's smile was dangerous and seductive. "You'll see." You felt a thrill run through you. You had challenged Natasha, and now you were ready for whatever came next. As you returned to the premiere, the tension between you was palpable, an unspoken promise of things to come.

The premiere went smoothly, but your and Natasha's thoughts were elsewhere. The silent promise you had exchanged hung between you, intensifying every glance, every touch. As the event came to an end, you felt both excited and nervous about what would happen next. Natasha's presence, as always, was a calming force, but now it was charged with a new kind of tension.

As you finally returned to the hotel, you couldn't resist teasing Natasha one last time. "So, what's next, bodyguard? Do you still think I'm playing a dangerous game?" Natasha's eyes were dark with promise as she stepped closer. "Oh, princess, the game has only just begun." You felt a shiver of excitement. "Good. I wouldn't want it any other way."

You turned to head to your room, thinking you had the upper hand. But before you could take more than a few steps, Natasha grabbed your arm and effortlessly swung you over her shoulder. You gasped in surprise as Natasha carried you into the bedroom.

"Natasha! W-What are you doing!?" you exclaimed, your voice a mix of shock and excitement. Natasha didn't answer immediately. Instead, she gave you a quick, firm smack on your butt, making you gasp. "You wanted to play games, princess. Now it's my turn." Your heart raced as Natasha carried you into the bedroom and tossed you onto the bed. Natasha stood at the foot of the bed, removing her jacket and unbuttoning her blouse with deliberate slowness, her eyes never leaving yours.

"You've been teasing me all night," Natasha said, her voice deep and commanding. "Now it's time to show you what happens when you play with fire." You felt a wave of heat wash over you as you watched Natasha undress. You bit your lip, your breath catching in anticipation.

Natasha climbed onto the bed, her movements predatory and deliberate. She leaned over you, her hands pinning your wrists above your head as she kissed you deeply and possessively. You responded eagerly, your body arching into Natasha's. She broke the kiss, her lips brushing your ear. "You belong to me tonight, princess. And I'm going to make sure you remember it."

Your faces were only inches apart, and you could feel Natasha's breath on your skin. The tension between you crackled like electricity, a mix of anger and desire. Your teasing had always been a game to provoke Natasha, but now, faced with the intensity of Natasha's gaze, you realized how far you had pushed her.

"You drive me crazy, Y/N," Natasha whispered, her voice rough. "Now it's my turn." Your heart skipped a beat, your body trembling with anticipation. "Then don't hold back, please.." you replied, your voice barely more than a whisper. Natasha's smile widened, and she leaned in, her lips brushing your ear. "Oh, I don't plan to."

Natasha's lips crashed onto yours, the kiss fierce and demanding. You responded eagerly, your body arching into Natasha's, your skin tingling with the intensity of the moment. Natasha's hands moved purposefully, one sliding down your side, her fingertips tracing the hem of your dress before slipping underneath.

You gasped into the kiss as Natasha's fingers drew patterns on your skin, sending waves of pleasure through you. You had never experienced such a touch, so firm, so assured. It was as if Natasha knew exactly how to unravel you. "Natasha.." you breathed, your voice trembling with desire. "Please..." Natasha pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, her gaze fierce and intense. "Oh, I like that. Please what?" she demanded, her tone commanding.

"Please... more.." you begged, your body aching for Natasha's touch. A satisfied smile spread across Natasha’s face as she obliged, her fingers finding their way to your most sensitive spots, drawing moans and gasps from you that filled the room. Your world narrowed to the sensation of Natasha's touch, your body responding with an intensity you had never known.

Natasha's hands moved expertly, teasing and pleasing you until you trembled with desire. Just as you thought you couldn't take anymore, Natasha pulled back slightly, her gaze dark and full of promise. "You're not ready for what's coming next," Natasha said, her voice deep and husky. She stood up, her movements intentionally slow, giving you a moment to catch your breath.

You watched with wide eyes as Natasha unbuckled her belt, your gaze following her every move. As Natasha's pants fell to the floor, you caught your breath. There, proud and ready, was Natasha's member. Natasha reached into her pocket and pulled out a condom, rolling it on with practiced ease.

"You were prepared," you teased, your voice breathless. "Did you know the night would end like this?" Natasha gave you a sly smile. "I had a feeling. And by the end of the night, you won't have that attitude anymore."

Your body responded to Natasha's words, a mix of excitement and anticipation coursing through you. Natasha climbed back onto the bed, positioning herself between your legs. She leaned in to capture your lips in another searing kiss, her hands roaming over your body, stoking the flames of desire even higher.

As Natasha slowly entered you, you gasped at the sensation, your body arching into hers. The feeling was unlike anything you had ever experienced, a perfect blend of pleasure and connection. Natasha moved with a careful rhythm, watching your reactions to ensure every movement brought you joy. "Do you like that?" Natasha whispered, her voice deep and rough. "Do you like feeling me inside you?"

"Y-Yes, oh God, yes.." you moaned, your hands clutching at Natasha's back, your nails digging into her skin as waves of pleasure washed over you. "Good," Natasha growled, increasing her pace slightly. "Because I'm not stopping until you've learned your lesson." Your breath grew heavy, your moans louder with each thrust. Natasha's lips found your neck, kissing you, making you tremble. Natasha's hand slipped between you, her fingers brushing over your clit in teasing, light touches.

"Natasha!" you gasped, your body jolting at the sudden rush of pleasure. "Please, stop..."

"Just a taste of your own medicine," Natasha murmured, her voice a husky whisper against your skin. She kept her slow, torturous rhythm, her fingers lightly dancing over your sensitive spot, driving you wild with desire. Your frustration mingled with your arousal, the teasing making you desperate. "Please, Natasha... I need more.." you begged, your voice trembling.

Natasha's smile deepened, savoring your pleading. "You need to learn that actions have consequences," she said, her pace increasing, each thrust deeper and harder. "Is this what you wanted, Y/N? To be dominated, made to beg?"

"Yes, yes!" you whimpered, your body arching, seeking more. "Please, Natasha, I need you..“ Seeing your desperation, Natasha finally relented. She increased her pace, her thrusts becoming rougher, harder. Her fingers pressed firmly against your clit, rubbing in perfect rhythm with her movements. "You feel so good," Natasha groaned, her own arousal evident in her voice. "So tight around me. You love being fucked like this, don't you?"

„God.." you cried, your body shaking with the intensity of your pleasure. "Don't stop, please don't stop."

"I'm not," Natasha promised, her voice rough with desire. She began slowly, her thrusts gentle and deliberate, giving you time to adjust to the new sensation. Each movement was measured, designed to build the pleasure slowly. Her fingers pressed firmly against your clit, rubbing in perfect rhythm with her movements. "You feel so good," Natasha groaned, her own arousal evident in her voice. "So tight around me. I told you how it would end."

"Oh God!" you cried, your body shaking with the intensity of your pleasure. "Don't stop, please don't stop..“ Natasha's breath came heavy, her movements becoming more urgent. "You're going to take everything I give you," she growled. "And you're going to love it." Natasha's eyes burned with a mix of desire and something deeper. "Turn around," she commanded, her voice rough. "I want to take you from behind."

You complied, your body trembling with anticipation. Natasha positioned herself behind you, her hands gripping your hips firmly. With one swift motion, Natasha entered you again, the new angle sending a fresh wave of pleasure through your body. "God, you feel so good," Natasha groaned, her pace rough and relentless. "Do you like this, Y/N? Do you like being fucked like this?"

"Yes, Natasha, y-yees.." you cried, your body pushing back against each thrust. "Harder, please, harder..“ Natasha's grunts filled the room, her movements becoming more powerful, each thrust driving you closer to the edge. "Fuck, what would your fans say if they saw you like this?" she growled.

Your world was a whirl of sensations, your body burning with pleasure. "Please, please, please!" you gasped, your voice breaking with need. "Please, I'm so close.."

Natasha's hands slid to your shoulders, pulling you back with each thrust, her pace unrelenting. "I want to see your face when you come," Natasha demanded, her voice rough. You turned, your eyes meeting Natasha's intense gaze. Natasha didn't break the connection, her thrusts deep and powerful, her eyes locked on yours. "You're so beautiful," Natasha murmured, her voice filled with raw emotion. "Come for me, Y/N. I want to see you come."

Your body obeyed, the intensity of Natasha's gaze and the power of her movements driving you over the edge. You called out Natasha's name, your body trembling with the force of your orgasm, your eyes never leaving Natasha's. She followed you, her own orgasm hitting her hard, her body tensing with the release. She held you close, your bodies entwined, the intensity of your connection overwhelming.

When it was over, Natasha collapsed beside you, both of you breathing heavily, your bodies slick with sweat. You looked up at Natasha, your eyes shining with gratitude and something deeper. "That was... incredible," you whispered, your voice shaking. Natasha smiled, brushing a strand of hair from your face. "You're incredible," she replied softly, her touch now tender, filled with affection.

You snuggled into Natasha's embrace, feeling safe. You had challenged Natasha, teased her, but now you understood the depth of it and the passion that lay beneath your banter. It was a night you would indeed never forget.

The next morning, the sunlight filtered gently through the curtains of your hotel room, casting a warm glow across the bed. You stirred slowly, a pleasant ache in your muscles reminding you of the intense connection you had shared with Natasha the previous night. A contented smile spread across your face as you replayed the events in your mind. The way Natasha had made you feel cherished and desired was unlike anything you had experienced before.

As you stretched lazily, you noticed Natasha already up and moving around the room, her movements efficient and purposeful as she dressed in her black uniform. Still feeling the warmth of the night, you sat up and instinctively pulled the blanket around you.

Natasha caught sight of your movement and smirked. "You don't have to hide under the blanket, princess," she teased, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "I've already seen everything." You felt a blush rise to your cheeks but managed a small smile. "Force of habit, I guess." Natasha chuckled softly and walked over to the bed, sitting down beside you. She reached out and gently brushed a strand of hair from your face. "How are you feeling?"

You leaned into her touch, savoring the intimacy. "Good. Better than good, actually." Natasha's smile softened, and she pressed a tender kiss to your forehead. "Good. We've got a busy day ahead. Remember, it's the final interview for the film today." You nodded, the reality of the day settling in. "Right. The last interview." Natasha's eyes searched yours, a hint of concern flickering in them. "Are you ready for it?"

You sighed, feeling a pang of anxiety. "I think so. Just... nervous, I guess." Natasha squeezed your hand reassuringly. "You'll do great. And I'll be right there with you."

As Natasha continued getting ready, you reached for your phone on the nightstand. Unlocking it, you saw a barrage of notifications. Among the messages was one from a close friend, marked urgent. Curiosity piqued, you opened the message thread.

The message read: "Y/N, have you seen these articles? Be careful with Natasha Romanoff. She's got a reputation." Attached were several links to articles and gossip columns detailing Natasha's past relationships, her numerous one-night stands, and her professional life as a bodyguard. The headlines screamed warnings about her dangerous allure and the trail of broken hearts she had left behind.

Your heart sank as you scrolled through the articles, each one chipping away at the happiness you had felt just moments before. The friend’s message continued: "I just don't want to see you get hurt. She might be good at her job, but she's also known for not sticking around."

Natasha's teasing smile from this morning flashed in your mind: "You don't have to hide under the blanket, princess. I've already seen everything." What if you were just another conquest for her? The memory of her passionate words from last night seemed suddenly tainted "You belong to me tonight, princess. And I'm going to make sure you remember it."

Natasha noticed the shift in your expression and the way you had gone quiet, your eyes glued to your phone. "Y/N, is everything okay?" she asked, concern lacing her voice. You quickly locked your phone and forced a smile. "Yeah, just... some messages." But the seed of doubt had been planted. Despite your efforts to focus, the words from the articles lingered in your mind. Was last night just another notch on Natasha's belt?

As you got ready, Natasha left you alone for a moment to gather your thoughts. The anxiety gnawed at you, turning the warmth you had felt into a cold pit in your stomach.

The day passed in a blur of preparations and travel to the interview location. Your mind kept drifting back to the articles, the warnings, the doubt. By the time you arrived at the studio, the unease had settled deep within you.

When the time for the interview finally arrived, you found yourself sitting in a brightly lit studio, facing a well-known interviewer. The cameras rolled, and the interview began. You tried to concentrate, but your mind kept wandering, haunted by the headlines and Natasha's reputation. "So, Y/N, this film has been a huge success. How has the journey been for you?" You forced a smile, trying to gather your thoughts. "It's been incredible. The cast and crew were amazing, and I learned so much."

But even as you spoke, you couldn't shake the memory of Natasha's voice from last night"Do you like feeling me inside you?"

"Can you share any particularly memorable moments from the set?" You hesitated, your mind momentarily blank. "Uh, there were so many great moments. I think... the camaraderie we shared off-camera was really special."

Natasha's teasing smile from this morning flashed in your mind "You don't have to hide under the blanket, princess. I've already seen everything."

"What are your plans after this film? Any new projects in the pipeline?" You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of uncertainty pressing down on you. "I'm exploring a few options, but nothing's set in stone yet."

Natasha's concern earlier replayed in your mind "Are you ready for it?" The interview continued, but your responses grew increasingly mechanical. Natasha, standing just off-camera, noticed the shift in your demeanor. Her brow furrowed with concern as she watched you, sensing something was wrong. She began to worry that she had overstepped last night, that perhaps she had pushed you too far.

When the interview finally concluded, you left the studio feeling drained and unsettled. Natasha was by your side immediately, her eyes filled with worry. "Y/N, what's wrong?" Natasha asked, her voice gentle yet urgent. "Did something happen during the interview?"

You shook your head, avoiding her gaze. "No, it's not that. I just... need some space right now." Natasha's heart clenched at your words. She followed you silently back to the hotel, the worry gnawing at her. Had she misread the signals? Had she taken things too far last night? The thought of having hurt you in any way made her feel sick.

Back in the hotel room, you sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the floor. Natasha hovered nearby, her concern evident "Y/N, please talk to me," Natasha said softly. "I can't help if I don't know what's wrong." You took a deep breath, feeling the tears welling up in your eyes. "I'm.. scared, Natasha..“

Natasha's heart ached at the vulnerability in your voice. She stepped closer, her hand gently cupping your cheek. "Scared of what? Talk to me, please." You finally met her gaze, the tears spilling over. "I'm scared that last night... that it was just a one-time thing for you. That you only wanted me for my body."

Natasha's eyes widened in shock, and she immediately knelt in front of you, taking your hands in hers. "W-What?“ You reluctantly lifted your gaze to hers, seeing the sincerity and depth of her feelings reflected in her eyes. "Last night was not just a one-time thing for me," Natasha said firmly. "I didn't just want you for your body. You mean so much more to me than that."

You searched her eyes, your voice trembling. "But what if... what if this changes things between us? What if it's just a fling?" Natasha shook her head, her grip on your hands gentle but steady. "It won't be. Because I care about you, Y/N. More than I've cared about anyone in a long time. Last night meant everything to me, and I don't want it to end there." Tears flowed freely now, and Natasha wiped them away with her thumbs, her gaze never leaving yours.

"But what about all these articles and rumors about you?" you asked, the fear and doubt still lingering in your voice. "They say you've had so many one-night stands and relationships that didn't last. How do I know I'm not just another one?" Natasha sighed deeply, her expression turning serious. "Do you remember the actress you met at the restroom at the Gala?" You nodded, recalling the striking woman who had seemed so authoritative.

"Her name is Jessica," Natasha continued. "We were in a relationship a few month ago. It was toxic and manipulative. When I finally managed to leave her, she was furious. She threatened to ruin my reputation if I ever left her." Natasha pulled out her phone and showed you a message thread. "Here, look at this." She scrolled to a particular message and handed you the phone. The message read:

"If you leave, I will destroy your life, your reputation, everything, Natasha. No one will ever trust you again."

You felt a chill run down your spine as you read the words. Natasha's voice was steady but filled with pain. "She's the one who started those rumors and spread the articles. I'm already taking legal action against her, but these things take time."

You looked up at Natasha, seeing the sincerity and anguish in her eyes. "I had no idea..." Natasha cupped your face gently. "I would never use you, Y/N. What we have is real, and I want to protect it. Protect you. Please believe me."

You searched her eyes, feeling the sincerity in her words. "But how can I be sure?" Natasha's grip on your hands tightened, her gaze unwavering. "Because I'm standing here, telling you this. I'm not going anywhere, Y/N. I want to be with you, not just for a night, but for as long as you'll have me."

You felt a flood of relief and emotion wash over you. "I want that too, Natasha. I just... I needed to know." Natasha pulled you into a tight embrace, holding you close. "You don't have to be afraid. I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere." You clung to her, feeling the warmth and strength of her presence. The fear and doubt that had plagued you melted away in the face of Natasha's unwavering support.

As the day continued, you felt a renewed sense of connection and understanding with Natasha. The bond between you had deepened, forged through honesty and vulnerability. With the whirlwind of your film promotion tour finally over, you felt a mix of relief and excitement as you arrived back at your home. For the first time in months, you had some well-deserved time off. Natasha, your steadfast bodyguard, was right by your side as you walked through the front door of your cozy house.

"Home sweet home.." you sighed, dropping your bags and stretching your arms. The familiar surroundings brought a sense of peace that you had missed during your hectic schedule.

Natasha smiled, leaning against the doorway. "It's nice to see you relax." You turned to her, a question lingering in your mind. "So, what happens now? Do you move on to another client with a tour or something?" Natasha raised an eyebrow, her smile widening. "Actually, I took some time off too."

Your eyes widened in surprise. "Really? You took time off to stay here?" Natasha nodded, stepping closer. "Yes, I wanted to spend more time with you. I meant what I said a few days ago, Y/N."

A wave of warmth and happiness washed over you. "You really do care," you whispered, feeling your heart swell with affection. Natasha cupped your face gently, her eyes soft and sincere. "I care a lot, and I want to make the most of this time we have together."

The next few days were blissful. You and Natasha spent time just enjoying each other's company, something you hadn't been able to do during the tour. The bond between you grew stronger, built on trust and genuine affection. One lazy afternoon, as you lounged on the couch together, you started discussing potential vacation destinations. "We should go somewhere special," you suggested, scrolling through various travel websites on your laptop. "How about a trip to a secluded beach resort? Just the two of us."

Natasha leaned in, looking at the screen. "That sounds perfect." You found a beautiful resort that offered private bungalows by the ocean and various activities for couples. "This one looks amazing," you said excitedly. "Let me book it."

Before you could click the "book now" button, the doorbell rings, "Food is here!" You sprint over and meanwhile Natasha took the laptop and made the booking. When you come back with two pizza boxes, you pouted playfully. "Hey! I wanted to pay for it!“ Natasha chuckled, pulling you into her arms. "I know, but I wanted to do this for us." You gave her a mock glare. "You're impossible, you know that?"

Natasha silenced you with a gentle kiss, her lips soft and tender against yours. "Shush," she whispered against your lips. "Let me take care of you for once." You melted into her embrace, feeling the love and care she poured into every touch and kiss. "Okay," you murmured, a smile tugging at your lips. "I guess I can let you spoil me this time."

The anticipation of your upcoming trip added an extra layer of excitement to your days. You spent your time planning activities and daydreaming about the sun, sand, and sea. The more you got to know Natasha in this relaxed setting, the more you realized how deeply you felt for her. As the departure date for your vacation approached, you and Natasha packed your bags with a mix of excitement and eagerness. The thought of being in a beautiful, secluded place with her made your heart race.

Finally, the day arrived, and you both boarded the plane to your dream destination. The flight was smooth, filled with laughter and light conversations about the adventures you planned to have. Upon landing, you were greeted with warm ocean breezes and the sound of waves crashing on the shore.

Your bungalow was even more beautiful than the pictures, nestled right on the beach with a stunning view of the turquoise waters. As you stepped inside, you felt a sense of tranquility wash over you. "This is perfect," you sighed, looking out at the ocean from the large windows. Natasha wrapped her arms around you from behind, resting her chin on your shoulder. "It really is. I'm glad we're here together."

You turned in her arms, looking up at her with a smile. "Me too. Thank you for everything, Natasha." She leaned down and kissed you softly. "Anything for you, Princess." The days that followed were filled with pure bliss. You and Natasha spent your time exploring the beach, swimming in the crystal-clear waters, and enjoying romantic dinners under the stars. Each moment felt like a precious gift, strengthening the bond you shared.

[hxnbi]

⸻ °♡⃘ . WIND BREAKER BOYS AS ROMANCE TROPES

pairings. umemiya hajime, choji tomiyama, sakura haruka, endo yamato, kiryu mitsuki x gn. reader (separate)

part two

UMEMIYA HAJIME + childhood friends to lovers

in my eyes, umemiya is one who would undoubtedly prefer someone who knows him better than himself and connects with him than anyone else—that person being the one he grew up with, someone who can bear his craziness and his occasionally unhinged behaviour. scratch that, his consistently unhinged behaviour.

with all the hardships he had been through in his life, from scraped and bloody knees from playing in the park to shared secrets between you two, you were always there for him, and so would he. umemiya has been your constant since childhood, and the same goes with him. the transition from friends to perhaps something more was seamless. almost as if it had always been meant—waiting, patiently, to happen. friendship formed the foundation of your relationship, and it would be what remains. as you both grew, so did your feelings, maturing into a love that was as enduring as umemiya himself. only when he faced the idea—the terrifying possibility of losing you, did he realize.

“that’s it…”

hiragi’s face scrunched up, peering over at umemiya, whose face was compressed onto the desk he was laying on. “the hell are you talking about?”

with a burst of energy, umemiya suddenly lifted his face from the desk like a startled meerkat, “THATS IT! THAT’S WHAT IT IS! I LOVE THEM!!” leaving hiragi practically hyperventilating, sighing heavily before popping more than a few pills into his mouth for good measure (not medical advice).

“still don’t understand who you’re referring to…”

that’s just it… you weren’t “just a sibling” to him. he never thought that way. he never ever saw you in only that way.

he began dreaming up a future with you. after all, you knew him best, had been through his best and worst moments, and even then, stuck by him. his desire to be protective over you was a comforting presence, even if it was sometimes perhaps a bit overbearing, but that was umemiya’s personality. through the years, his commitment to you never changed, never wavered, for his mind was already made up.

he didn’t know that the one he needed by his side was there all along. you’ve always been by each other’s side, and now, as you both grow older and as the years tick by, umemiya can't, he just couldn't imagine a day without you. you mean too much for him to just let you go. friendship turned into love, and before you knew it, you both would be together, dancing at your wedding.

...or so was umemiya’s dream when he woke up that morning, just wishing for that to be a reality.

CHOJI TOMIYAMA + love at first sight

a simple, straightforward case of who has caught your eye sort of trope, but choji knew that this was different. choji was never one to hide his emotions—wearing his feelings very much on his sleeve, and when he saw you for the first time, his heart made its intentions clear. the world stops around him the first time he sees you, and he very obviously stares and gawks at you with no shame. it was love at first sight.

togame’s eyes widen like a deer in headlights. “w-what? are you sure?” 

“yeah!! it was like nothing i’ve ever felt before,” choji sighs exasperatingly, leaning on his chair with a clear conscience, “they were so dreamy… i wish i could see them again.”

and see you again, he would. Not by accident, as what you initially thought, but choji and choji alone would pull the strings to make every meeting seemingly happen, all the while acting as naturally as possible.

choji’s larger-than-life personality meant he pursued you with an earnest intensity. his eyes would light up every time you entered the room, glowing with delight every time everytime you paid him even an ounce of affection, and despite that, choji still wanted more. he wanted so much more. his affection was genuine and pure, devoid of any pretence. even togame couldn’t question the authenticity of choji’s supposed affection for you. the boy was utterly smitten.

choji finds any and every way he can to approach you. and his efforts aren’t for naught, as even you could see the sparkles in the boy’s eyes, down to the way he would stare down at him without saying a word. perhaps creepy in any other instance, but it never felt that way to you.

a nervous yet friendly smile would frequently accompany choji’s awkward attempts to get close to you. there was something just so endearing in choji’s gaze—a kind of innocence and even childlike admiration that made your heart soften. he wasn’t just staring; he was taking in every detail of your face and expression as if trying to memorize your presence. his eyes, wide with wonder, held no malice nor ulterior motives, just a simple, unspoken, pure and honest adoration, all underlining his true sincerity.

HARUKA SAKURA + forced proximity

from when he was young, sakura has always distanced himself from people. he had never been one for social interactions, preferring the solitude of his own thoughts rather than the scrutiny of a crowd watching him, judging him. to him, his existence in their lives was a curse. only he deserved it, and only he would bear it. but when circumstances forced you into close quarters, his aloof and icy exterior began to thaw. the closeness of your body next to him, the warmness of your breath, made sakura uneasy, and yet, he didn't pull away. 

initially, like with everyone else sakura ever connected with, he followed his usual pattern of what he knew to do best—pushing you away. not just metaphorically but physically, shoving you to the ground when all you did was to try and lightly tap his shoulder. he had hurt you. this was what always happened without fail. but even still, you never went away, like a rather pesky mosquito.

during the unfortunate times when you were forced to share a small space with him, seeing first-hand the rare moments of openness he usually kept hidden, even from those who supposedly knew him best—because no one actually did. the forced short proximity in the cramped quarters revealed an authentic side, all in the subtle ways he watched over you that your eyes slowly caught on to.

“stay away from me. it’s better for both of us.”

time and time again, you would wonder and question why he continuously tried to gently push you away, but never to the point of truly physically shoving you away and hurting you. even so, sakura, still cared about you. that, he would never deceive.

“no, it’s not, sakura. i told you, i’m not going anywhere.” 

while it did hurt for him to say that about you when all you did was to be his heart, it hurt you, even more, to know that this was truly how he thought of himself to be—a “person” who didn’t deserve love and affection.

“...i don’t need anyone. especially not you.”

“...maybe. but maybe you need someone who won’t leave, no matter how hard you push.”

“YOU’RE JUST GOING TO BE HURT WITH ME—”

you smiled. “then let me be the one to decide that for myself. right?"

no matter how many times he would push you away, despite his constant attempts to distance himself, you were never going to leave that easily, and perhaps sakura knew that his face flushing red. a small crack had formed in sakura’s defences. you never thought that “being stuck” with sakura was a curse, but a chance to see the true person behind the mask.

ENDO YAMADO + opposites attract

endo was your complete opposite in every conceivable way. his piercing, intense gaze was a contrast to your own vibrant, pastel, and borderline revolting energy, balancing each other’s strengths and differences, light and shadow. rather than a mix of oil and water, it created a dynamic that neither of you could have predicted.

endo is more on the serious side. no, very much on the serious side, so your fun and excitement help him loosen up. to many, your contrasting qualities complemented each other, filling the gaps that the other lacked. some would say that your kindness filled the empathy that endo very much lacked, but regardless, endo’s initial skepticism turned into a fascination, and he found himself drawn to the very traits that set you apart from him. he finds it adorable when you do things he would never even dream of, like dancing in the rain, but he never particularly commented on them to keep his composure.

he admires your personality in a rather subtle, aloof way, although he would never say those words out loud. his pride is too great for that. you’re each other’s comfort and sanctuary, finding things in each other you both never had. so strong, in fact, that your honey-coated words and presence can hardly push you away from him, and over time, endo lets you.

your contrasting qualities complemented each other, filling the gaps that the other lacked. anyone who even dares to threaten the solace of your company at your side, endo treats as a literal threat to himself.

after all, you were quite literally his other half.

“yama… why do you always act like you need to protect me?”

“i don’t know what you’re talking about.”

you would give him a look that said, “you can’t fool me,” and he would only tsk and whisk his head in the other direction. 

you’re important to him, more than he can ever put into words. every glance, every small gesture, and every moment. endo doesn’t bother himself with the extravagance of affectionate words and grand declarations, but his actions go far beyond that. the second he notices something out of the ordinary—specifically, that you weren’t at his side at that exact moment of the day like always—he starts beating people up in a fit of rage. he goes berserk and sees red, and only when you arrive (after being frantically called in through your cellphone) does he finally calm down, asking you furiously where you were, with your shoulders being held in the grip of steel.

“fuck… you’re such a troublesome person.”

he needs to protect you, endo thinks. you’re the total opposite of him. you were kind, docile, and gentle, you were like his other half. the opposite of him that he cherished. whoever hurt you meant that they had to deal with him too. no one hurts his lover and gets away with it. everyone in the area knew this fact.

perhaps, opposites do indeed attract.

KIRYU MITSUKI + the boy next door 

kiryu was the quintessential boy next door. he was a sweet neighbour and a total gentleman that everyone admired. looking back at you and his first visit, it could have been more timely. as soon as the doorbell rang, your eyes would groggily open as you went to get the door to see who on earth was the person who disturbed your sweet nap. and as you opened the door, you saw a cute guy standing with a basket of miscellaneous goods in his hands. you almost thought you were still dreaming until you rubbed your tired eyes. “

“i’m mitsuki kiryu, your new neighbour. i just moved into the house beside yours. i met your parents yesterday but you weren’t here, so i figured i should introduce myself personally since we’re the same age and all.”

startled, you were very visibly taken aback, “o-oh, thank you. but, uh, shouldn’t i be the one giving you something?” you said sheepishly.

“oh, well, then you can always just give me something later!” he replied with the brightest smile imaginable, making you sweatdrop.

‘that’s not… what i meant.’

granted, your first impression of him was pretty unexpected, but he quickly proved to be a friendly person who truly had a heart of gold. you found yourself slowly falling for him after spending some time with him as a friend—his easy smile and warm eyes offering a sense of home.

but to find out that your life wasn’t the only one that changed, and that kiryu felt the same. as you grew older, so too did your friendship with the boy you first considered to be a mere neighbour. you were hardly even surprised when you heard that kiryu was a part of bofurin—a gang even you had come to admire. in a way, you weren’t surprised; it suited him and his upstanding moral compass. it didn’t, and never did, drive you away.

he was the boy next door, but also so much more—your confidant, your partner in crime, and your love.

©hxnbi. comments, reblogs, and likes are always appreciated ♡

[swampjawn]

God I love animation. I love it for the way it can bring anything to life beyond the constraints of boring ol' reality, but also the ways that it's inextricably linked to, and draws on the conventions of live-action film-making.

So fuck it, let's look at how Hayao Miyazaki straight up copies some camera framing techniques from his predecessor and the other most influential Japanese filmmaker of all time, Akira Kurosawa! (Kurosawa really was the master of framing scenes around his characters, so he's a great source of inspiration)

(btw, this is a screenshot from this TV special where the two met for the first time just after the release of Kurosawa's final film. It's pretty interesting, and also very cute how nervous Miyazaki seems to be to meet one of his idols.)

Specifically, how the two each choose to break the 180 degree rule (well, not technically 'break' in the case of Kurosawa) to show their protagonists' changing destiny in "Throne of Blood" and "Princess Mononoke".

For anyone who doesn't know, the 180 degree rule is a basic film-making rule of thumb which states that in any scene where two characters interact, you should draw an imaginary line between them and the camera should always stay on one side of that line.

("In the Mood for Love" - Wong Kar-wai)

This way, one character is always looking to the right of the camera, the other is always looking to the left, and the audience doesn't get confused by the geography of the scene. Crossing this line can be disorienting, but when done intentionally, it can convey a paradigm shift of some kind in the scene.

In this scene from "Throne of Blood," (a feudal Japanese retelling of Macbeth) Washizu's wife Asaji discusses tactics with him and tries to convince him to aspire to the throne and to assassinate his lord Tsuzuki while he sleeps.

As two servants appear to notify them that Washizu's sleeping quarters are prepared, the camera dollies left and around the characters' backs. This camera movement is motivated by the motion of the servants' torches outside the room, but it also signifies a change in Washizu's outlook.

Washizu is completely silent for most of this scene, contemplating his wife's advice. But as the camera slides behind his back and across the line of action, the scene is now re-framed, illustrating his change in perspective.

He's been convinced and the trajectory of his life is about to change - and now, facing away from the camera, is the time for action.

Because the camera slides smoothly across the line, Kurosawa isn't technically breaking the 180 degree rule. Miyazaki on the other hand, takes it a little further.

The complimentary scene in Princess Mononoke comes near the start when the wise woman of the village reads Prince Ashitaka's fortune after he's cursed by the wild boar spirit. She tells him that it is his fate to leave the village and travel to the west, where he may be able to lift the curse on his arm. The trajectory of Ashitaka's life changes in this moment too. As he accepts his fate, the change is symbolized by him cutting off his hair, but also by the camera jumping the line.

Throughout this dialogue scene and even as he cuts his hair, the simulated camera sits just slightly to the side of Ashitaka's left shoulder.

But once it's done, for the final shot, the scene is reframed and we jump to the other side, where Ashitaka is now looking to the right of the camera instead of the left.

Making the camera dolly across a scene like Kurosawa's version in 2D animation is no simple task, so this transition with a simple cut is in a way subtler, in another way a bit more jarring, but it conveys the same meaning.

This is the moment when our protagonists make the choice to embark on a new destiny and re-frame their lives.

This has been an excerpt from a short video essay I made a while back, which not many people watched. I think this is at least in part due to my failure to package it well, and it seems you tumblheads like this animation/cinematography analysis stuff, so this is an experiment to see if, with the help of y'all, and a new title and thumbnail, it's at all possible to give this video a second wind in the eyes of the Youtube Gods!

So if you found this interesting, I'd appreciate if you checked it out! Thanks for reading!

[thicctails]

I need more info on the get better children au, especially about when Bill shows up.

*rubs hands together* I finally got some extra time to draw up some new art for this AU, so let's give it some substance >:3 Long post below the read more with extra art :D

Before Euclydia was destroyed, Euclid and Scalene Cipher were some of its most powerful members. Bill saying that everyone loved him as a baby was true for a time; children aren't born very often, and the Ciphers are considered to almost be royalty. It wasn't until Bill's mutation became apparent that people began to shun him. If he had been born to any other family, he likely would have been abandoned.

Though neither Euclid nor Scalene could really comprehend the concept of something being "up", let alone what "stars" could possibly be, both of them used their status to try and find any scrap of forbidden information, hoping that they could find an answer, could find some confirmation that their son wasn't crazy, and didn't need to be blinded by his "medicine."

It was this research that eventually saved their lives. Having the knowledge that it was possible for things to, hypothetically, exist in a three dimensional plane allowed them to pool their powers and create 3D forms for themselves when Euclydia began to burn, pulling themselves off the 2D plane like a sticker being peeled off a page. It wasn't a smooth transition in the slightest, and the flames managed to damage parts of their bodies before they managed to fully free themselves. The rest of their power went into escaping their collapsing reality, and when all was said and done, they were left near catatonic and floating in the space between time and space for many, many years.

They don't really start to recover until a certain frilly guy upstairs nudges them into a new, stable dimension. This one is almost entirely 3D, and inhabited by creatures that look completely alien to the Euclydians. Creatures called humans.

They meet Dipper and Mabel not long after, and the two triangles attach themselves to the babies, doing their best to care for them in their weakened states when their young, unprepared parents fail to be adequate caretakers. Being 2D is far easier for them, so they stick to the walls like shadows and find ways to speak to the twins, slipping into videos and pictures, music and books, their forms changing slightly to match whatever media they slipped into. They teach Dipper and Mabel their colours, shapes, ABC's, ect, comfort them when they get sad or scared, and once they're old enough, how to do basic things like getting themselves food and water when they get left alone too long.

Neither Pines parent really notices their children making grabby hands and babbling at open air at first, though they do become a bit concerned when years pass and they still stare at walls and empty corners like there's something there.

Eventually, as we all know, the Pines twins get shipped off to a sleepy town in Oregon, and Euclid and Scalene are, of course, coming along to watch over their little stars. However, they become deeply uncomfortable when they start to see visages of their son carved into every room of the twin's temporary home.

It doesn't take long for the show's antics to start, but Grunkle Stan gets involved in the twins adventures far earlier because during The Inconveniecing, Euclid uses his ability to manipulate televisions to play one of those old PSA's on loop until he gets spooked enough to actually check on the twins, only to find them missing.

Eventually, through the help of Scalene using a radio to drag up an old advert for the Dusk 2 Dawn, he figures out where they are and arrives just in time to see the tail end of their ghostly encounter. Unable to deny his knowledge of Gravity Falls' weirdness, he and the twins have their Season 1 finale talk that night, and Dipper shows Stan Journal 3, which leads to all three of them searching for Journal 2 (Stan doesn't reveal the portal yet)

Bill gets summoned by Gideon like in Canon, but things veer wildly off course when, upon entering Stan's mind, Mabel asks him if he knows Euclid or Scalene. He freezes up upon hearing the names of his parents, and he immediately calls off the deal with Gideon, ripping himself out of Stan's Dreamscape. Before he can process what happened, he comes face to face with someone he's only seen in daymares for the past trillion years

Bill dips the fuck out once he realizes he's not hallucinating, disappearing to Axolotl knows where to do fun, productive things such as: scream, cry, break shit, sob on the floor, drink until the teeth in his eye ache, stare at the space between stars for days on end, and interrogate every single one of his henchmaniacs to see if they spiked his drink.

Mans has absolutely zero clue on how to navigate this situation, eventually settling on stalking the Pines because he genuinely cannot think of any possible way to approach his (apparently alive????) parents. How do you go about atoning for the extinction of your entire species?

Bill Cipher has never been one to do things for others for any other reason than to get something back, but he figures the best place to start is by protecting these fleshy human young that his parents seem so attached to.

Wait, would that make them siblings? Axolotl, he sure hopes not.

[illyrianbitch]

-ˋˏ MASTERLIST ˎˊ-

✨ indicates smut ♡ indicates a series ✰ indicates a one shot ↯ installment of series but can be read as stand-alone ☼ indicates a drabble ❥ are personal favorites last updated: 9/13/24 helpful links for palestinian aid

Azriel

♡ . —One Summer✨ (On-going)

One beach house, one festival, one summer to fall in love.

♡ . —An Education in Malice✨ (On-going)

With the sharp tongue of your notorious family, you are Azriel's most tantalizing challenge yet. It only takes one small meeting before you both realize that the line between hate and desire is dangerously thin.

♡ . — The Anatomy of Dependence (Coming soon)

You and Azriel are drawn together by an unbreakable bond, encountering obstacles and triumphs across the centuries and finding your way back to each other again and again.

✰. —Death and His Reaper ❥

After suffering a devastating injury in battle, Azriel finds himself on the brink of life and death where he meets you, The Mother's reaper.

↯. — Back to Our Roots

With the Acheron sisters out of town, you and your family plan for a quiet night in— just like old times.

✰. —Where I Left My Lover

After a brush with death, Azriel makes a difficult decision to protect you.

✰. —What We Make of What We're Made

When Azriel overhears Feyre's concern about your transition to fae life, he agrees to check on you.

✰. —When the Heart is Still Longing ❥

Azriel thought you were the one. Now, he can’t move on

✰. —Pretty Little Shadowsinger

Cassian walks in on you dressing Az in one of your dresses.

✰. —An Evening Reunion

Azriel comes home from a mission. You talk to him about your day, but he’s far more interested in you—and your silk nightgown.

✰. —Memories

While packing some boxes, Azriel is overwhelmed by memories of your relationship.

✰. —What Lies Between Us (On-going)

Azriel has spent years trying to escape the ghosts of his past, retiring into a self-imposed exile despite a promising career as a talented detective. When you turn up at his door asking for help on a recent case, his world is disrupted.

✰. —Body Count

Anxious about how your lack of experience compares to Azriel's, you ask him about his body count. Unfortunately for him, he misunderstands the question gravely.

✰. —Safe✨

Azriel's night is troubled by a nightmare. He finds a soothing remedy in the arms of his mate.

✰. —Winner

You and Azriel are both sore losers. But when you cheat in a game of cards, winning takes on a whole new meaning.

Cassian

♡ ↯. —And I'm Thinking About Your Lips ✨ ❥

You and Cassian have been best friends since you were teenagers-- just friends. But one night at Rita's changes everything and now you cant breathe when you're around him and he can't stop imagining how you'd taste. ↯ Part One, ↯ Part Two

↯. — A Hobby for Two ❥

Cassian surprises you with a small gift. You spend the night teaching him how to properly enjoy it.

✰. —A Place For Dying

A mission with Cassian goes terribly wrong.

✰. —Words of Affirmation

Even the Lord of Bloodshed gets insecure sometimes. As his mate, you always know the right words to say.

☼. —Tender

Cassian cuddles with you when you have a migraine

Rhysand

✰. —Insatiable ✨

There are countless reasons why you and Rhysand don’t work… but those reasons don’t seem so important when you’re tipsy in a bathroom with him inside you.

♡ . — Lights, Camera, Love! (On-going)

Rhysand, Hollywood's hottest heartthrob, has everyone smitten—everyone except you, his co-star. But when rumors of your feud begin to affect the show's ratings, your producers propose a last-ditch solution: a fake romance to salvage your public image and reignite fan interest.

Lucien Vanserra

♡ . — Hidden Things (Coming soon)

Following a cryptic vision from Elain, Lucien finds himself seeking out an enchanted artifact at your shop in the heart of the Day Court. What he finds instead is a profound connection with you—and a version of himself he believed he had lost.

Eris Vanserra

♡ . — A House of Hunger (Coming soon)

Every Autumn court citizen is hungry for something; beasts starved for influence, desperate for control, ravenous for power. Your tastes are no different—albeit a bit specific. It's a deep craving that boils in the pit of your stomach, hot and heavy, all consuming. You’re hungry for revenge.

✰. —Blessed

Angered by Nesta's actions, the Cauldron turned you into a fae different than your sisters— a lesser one that resembled more animal than human. Now living in Autumn, Eris shows you a new perspective on yourself.

✰. —Of Our Own Devices

Desperate to reunite with Lucien since his exile to Spring, you find yourself paying an unexpected price to his older brother. Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six

✰. —Handsome as Life and Poison

Defying your father’s sacred command, you wander to the grove where Spring and Autumn blend, only to encounter a sinfully divine figure with glowing amber eyes.

Bat-Boys (Reader x BatBoys)

✰. —Worth It

It can be hard to remember why you’ve put up with your best friends for centuries-- until they remind you why they're worth it.

✰. —A Helping Hand

Even most powerful males in Prythian need relationship advice from their best friend.

Mini-Series

♡ . — Mirthroot Mini-Series

Between dodging death and saving Prythian, its always nice to make time and enjoy one of The Mother's greatest creations: mirthroot. Reader x ACOTAR Characters

[gguk-n]

Transition (Charles Leclerc x Driver!Reader)

Part 2 of Replaced

Summary- After being kicked out of Ferrari rather rudely, Y/N must try to find a seat in the ever changing driver's market in the craziest year at Formula One till date.

{Reader's POV}

After leaving our home in Monaco, I spent the next couple of months regrouping with my team. I visited my family to clear my head; my mother always knew what to do in a difficult situation. She was the brains of the family. After a long and deep talk with her I realised what I wanted with the future. Number 1, I wanted to race in Formula One until I was 60. Number 2, I wanted a team that loved, valued and respected me as their driver. Number 3, last but not the least, I wanted to be paid more than what Ferrari was paying me.

Every team on the grid was open for picking except McLaren. Mercedes was losing their star driver, RedBull had to negotiate with Checo; the two teams I was eyeing right now. If I knew Horner and if I played my cards right, having a female driver on his team would change the dynamic and bring more spot light on the team. If Toto signed me, he would be replacing one iconic person with another; enough to make headlines.

The first race of the season hurt, I couldn't believe the next 24 races would be my last time in red, I couldn't fake the smiles. It hurt every time I saw Charles. We met for the first time since I left a day before Bahrain's media day. He looked as handsome as ever but his eyes held this deep seated sadness, you could see it. "Been a while" Charles almost whispered when our eyes met in the hotel. "It has, I've missed you" I replied. "I've missed you too" he almost cried out wrapping me in his arms. "The last few months were torture. You'll come home now, right?" he asked still holding me in his embrace. "Charles" I began, he pulled away, tears visible in his eyes, "I'll come back soon, mon tout. I need time" I mumbled. "How long will that be, mon cherie?" he asked. I wiped the tear that slipped out of his eyes, "The day I sign a team, I'll move back. I'll know my future and I'll finally be able to look at you without jealousy" I said. "OK" he nodded, kissing me for the first time since we met. "Je vous aime" he stated. "Je t'aime aussi" I replied back.

I finished P2 in the first race of the season. All the media and commentary were going crazy. It felt nice to finish P2. Max was fun to talk to post race during the cool down. He was always the more level headed one in our friendship. Max asked me about how things were between the two off us away from the prying eyes of the media who had already started to announce an imminent break up between the two of us. "He's been shit, since you left" Max spoke. "I'm sorry" I apologised. "oh no, don't apologise to me. I was just stating the obvious." he shook his head. "I heard you're talking to Horner" he commented. "Yeah, we're discussing but like I'm discussing with a lot of teams, honestly." I replied. "As you should, I think it would be fun....if we were team mates." he replied thoughtfully. "I wouldn't mind terrorising Charles in a RedBull" I laughed.

The next few races were quite memorable with me on the podium for every race. It was a proud feeling, a bitter sweet one though. Charles only saw me at race weekends but that was the nature of the sport, didn't mean that I didn't love him any less.

The talks with RedBull fell through since I wasn't able to bring in the kind of sponsors they wanted and the dream of driving in one too. Mercedes was very iffy, where Toto wanted to bring a new driver on the grid; while I was still effectively seatless. But Susie was a smart woman, she knew having me on the team after the void Lewis would leave, would do wonders since I was the first and only female driver on the grid in a really long time and having me would bring the similar kind of publicity, if not the same.

After months of back and forth, and negotiating; Toto agreed bringing a junior driver in too early wouldn't benefit anyone. I would race for Mercedes for the next 2 years and if the options opened up I didn't mind letting Toto have his little fantasy. My announcement would happen in Monza, the home of the tifosi. The perfect time and place. I had moved back in with Charles after the contract was signed. I did not tell him that I planned to announce it in Monza. Charles was just happy to have me back.

Mercedes made the announcement just before free practise, effectively ruining any plans the media had, it played in my favour and I had a ball. "You love drama don't you" Charles laughed. "What can I say? I have a knack for the theatrics" I laughed along. "Quoting Chandler are we?" Charles muttered kissing me as he said it. The days leading up to the race were crazy. As both me and Charles got ready to get into the car he said, "Can't wait to see you in black. You look hotter in black anyways" "Hope to be your teammate again in the future" I nodded as we put our helmets on. Charles won the team's home race. I missed the podium by a smidge, but knowing my future was secure didn't make the loss saddening.

As Charles got down from the podium to meet me, Arthur handed him something. "I thought, whether I finish podium or not I'd ask you this but as a 2 time Monza winner sounds so much cooler." he rambled. "What are you talking about Charles?" I questioned. He got down on one knee, the crowd went silent. "Will you Y/N Y/L/N do the honour of making me your husband?" he asked. I had tears in my eyes, "Yes" I nodded. Charles slipped the ring on my finger and kissed me. I could taste the champagne on his lips. I wrapped my arms around his neck and deepened the kiss while pulling his hair. We pulled away to a lot of hooting and screaming. "Wow" Charles exclaimed. "That's the hottest thing you've done till date, I think I'm hard" he said. "I'm staking my claim." I stated. "I'm always yours, now and forever" he replied. "Can't believe we'll have two Leclerc's on the grid next year." I commented. "Can't wait to race you Mrs Leclerc" he said kissing me again.

[goldenstring6123]

Hiii, my request is an ABC nsfw from each of the LaDS men, because I've been following you since the beginning and I ended up being curious about how you think they act during sex (If you could do Zayne's first I would be very grateful 🙏) I LOVE YOUR WRITINGS!!! (Sorry for any grammatical errors, English is not my first language)

Zayne: NSFW alphabet

Warning: 18+ only, MDNI!, Fem!reader, Full of sex related stuff: Toys, Kinks, Positions, preferences, etc. Read at your own risk!

Author's note: This is really fun to make but it's really long so I'll do individual posts. I was wondering what nsfw abc is and boy am I sooooo— heheh anyways, thank u for making this request pookie! #nsfweds

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Zayne will alternate between bathing you or simply wiping you down with a damp cloth. in order for Zayne to bathe you, you must be awake, or at least half awake, but this is a bit of a risky situation because things might also become 'steamy' in the bathroom.

If he has worn you out or had knocked you out cold, he would wipe you down with a cloth and move you to the other bedroom, then change the sheets in yours and move you back. Zayne would always make sure you rest with at least your underwear and a shirt on because he doesn't want you catching a cold.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Their favorite body part of you is your breasts and chest area. When you're on his lap, straddling him, he likes to bury his face in between your cleavage. Being close to your heart is something he likes to do physically, and when you orgasm, he likes feeling your pussy pulse at the same time as your heart.

Their favorite body part is their own hands. His hands may have scars, but that adds to the beauty of it. His fingers are long, and he keeps his nails neat, and because of this, he's able to reach places where you couldn't when you finger yourself. Plus, you like sucking on his fingers and intertwining it with yours when you're so lost in your mind.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

His cum alternates between opaque and thick to a bit thin and watery, depending on if he's managed to masturbate within the week. When Zayne wears a condom, he cums inside of you quite fearlessly, and you can feel his dick twitch while it spurts out the semen. When he doesn't wear a condom or when he decides to take it off, he likes spurting it on your lower abdomen and stomach. To which he'll use it to lubricate his dick again and pound into you. He's the type of guy whose body twitches when he ejaculates. He thrusts roughly and buries himself in you, only to tremble while he savors his high.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Zayne likes to see you squirt like a fountain. He likes how you write under his grasp while he keeps your legs still. He likes it when you cry that you can't stop cumming when he continues to lap your pussy, or when he continues to push through your orgasm. When you thrust your hip up, and your fluids spray on the bed—Zayne's mind is in a trance.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Fairly inexperienced, a virgin even—he knows what he needs to know through 'research', but a little guide from you would go a long way. He's a fast learner and a bit experimental (surprisingly), so he gets the hang of it in no time. You almost forgot that he's a newbie in just three months in.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Zayne likes two positions. First is the butterfly position, where one or both of your legs are over Zayne's shoulders. This position allows him to go deep while still being able to see your full body and touch you elsewhere. Moreover, he likes that he can seamlessly transition to a mating press if he wants to go rougher on you.

The second position that he likes is when you simply straddle his lap and move to satisfy yourself. He won't tell you this for some reason, but he likes it because you get to do the work while his hands can grope and knead your ass while kissing each other deeply.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

It's always serious when it's Zayne. Passionate, intimate, and caught in the moment are words that describe what it's like to make love. Although he genuinely admires your sense of humor, Zayne's in charge of making you happy in the bedroom.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? Does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

The carpets match the drapes, and Zayne has hair but not by a lot. He grooms them well, but at weeks when he can't afford to take care of himself, sometimes, you can see the hair creep up to his belly button, which is absolutely hot.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? The romantic aspect)

Very intimate. Almost all moments of Sex with Zayne will be intimate as you both want it and desire each other to the fullest, even just sex on regular days. That being said, there is an exception, which is when you're both hot-headed or frustrated: then you just use each other like a sex toy until you're both worn out, to which you'll make love intimately soon after.

J = Jack off (masturbation head-canon)

Contrary to what one may expect, he always finds a way to jack off; he needs to, especially with you so easily flaunting your body in his house or even just by sending him too sexy of pictures of you in his old college long coat. Half of the time, he distracts himself from the growing and throbbing hard on but the rest of the time, he'd excuse himself to the toilet or go on a quick shower run to jack off until he gets everything out of his system.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Secret Kink:

Alcohol kink - Zayne doesn't like to do things to you when you're inebriated because, to him, it's improper to touch a lady when they're not in their right mind. but when it's the other way around, he gets off of it. He gets tipsy for sure, but it amplifies his senses, and he can't focus on anything but the woman who's riding him to their own pleasure.

Well known kink:

Power play - It doesn't matter who takes the lead. Zayne would like it if you pushed him against the wall and rubbed yourself up all over him while you gave him orders not to touch you. It breaks his rational thinking when you yank on his tie and speak to him as if you're his superior. He's willing to follow your every whim and command. On his more erotic days, Zayne gives the orders, and you must oblige without fail because he's quite harsh and doesn't hesitate to give you consequences while cooing at you, be it by edging, orgasm denial, or breaking your orgasm.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

The bedroom. Because it's intimate, your body will be less sore in the bedroom because the mattress is soft and has many pillows to support your back. but of course, if neither of you can hold back, Zayne can do you anywhere as long as it's secluded. It could be his office, the hospital bathroom, or a hotel room with a full city view.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Zayne is turned on when you're acting all innocent and coy while rubbing against him "accidentally" and showing your assets in front of him, and somehow choosing the most revealing combination of house clothing and coincidentally wearing matching lingerie underneath your uniform.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Dislikes asphyxiation. He simply can't imagine choking you in bed, and the mere thought of you even fainting sends his stomach churning in the wrong direction. The bruises that one could get on their neck were even more appalling in his eyes. He knows it's a play, but he genuinely cannot allow himself to do it.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

A perfect balance of both. When you're stressed out, he likes to eat you out before having sex. When he's the one who's stressed out, you give him a handjob or blowjob but you never finish as he'd personally prefer cumming using your pussy.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

It varies on the mood, situation, and both of your conditions.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Quickies happen a lot before you go to work. Who wouldn't be tempted when their partner looks all so dapper and composed while you still bask in the high of last night's memory? A small kiss won't hurt, right? maybe add a blowjob while you're at it? Oh, who's the both of you kidding? Of course, you'll both end up on the couch with Zayne being 30 minutes in his early arrival.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He plays safe, but if he loses a bet or you manage to convince him through some special means, then he will play along as long as whatever you are doing is safe and doesn't cost his dignity too much.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? How long do they last?)

On days when he's stressed, he needs to ejaculate quickly, and this could happen within 10 to 15 minutes. If he's more relaxed and wants to take his time with you, he could go for around 25 minutes before cumming and needing a break. By then, you would've orgasmed twice or thrice, depending on if Zayne is aiming for the right spots.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Zayne has a tenga cup which he used even before you got together. When you get together, he rarely uses it, but when you accidentally find it tucked under the bed, you would sometimes greet his morning boner by using the toy on him. When you're mad at him and bind him to the bed, you'd also torture him with it by edging him.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Your lover doesn't like to tease. He gets straight to the point.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

His breaths are very audible. You can hear him losing his breath in the middle of thrusts, and you can hear him let out a groan when you squeeze your insides on purpose. When you just feel too good, and he's really sensitive, he will let out a long moan while looking up into the ceiling, basking in the sensation.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

As much as he advocates for safe sex, he doesn't like using condoms, but he still does. To him, you were tight and warm, which is good and all but with even that .001 thin condom, he really just can't feel all of you

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Well, chiseled abs, a prominent v line, and a back full of claw marks.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

When you got together, you would think that he's the type to be low-key with his sex drive, but you were proven wrong when you get pounded every other night. He lasts longer than you, too, and can make you orgasm beyond the number of fingers you have in one hand.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Zayne never falls alseep before you. You don't know where he pulls the energy from especially during seasons where the hospital is extremely busy. Sometimes, you manage to stay half awake to see him take care of you, but there are also times when you just drift off mid-sex after a toe-curling orgasm.

Author's footnotes: Hehe I like doing stuff like these, it allows me to get into the nitty gritty details of the character~ will be updating this post with the oink to the other characters once I upload them.

Layout by me using canva premium | Do not repost

[alienssstufff]

HOW DID I GET HERE // NICK OF TIME

My parts for the @bdubszine ! Love that guy to death it’s been a pleasure to work on such a project ^_^!!! These pieces come in a set and are dedicated to his Hermitcraft S7 POV (left page) and 3rd Life POV (right page)

[ ZINE LINK ]

[ notes undercut ]

HOW DID I GET HERE (hcs7)

This page was the winner of 6 other compositions (censored — one day they will be posted in their own time). It takes direct inspiration by the theming of Bdubs’ HCS7 thumbnails in the comic-book style, particularly the episode Bdubs get his iconic big beautiful eyes and smile x]

IN THE NICK OF TIME (3L)

In another universe- the right portion of the set would have been a continuation of the S7 theme, imitating that of an actual magazine spread with recaps and shit (rejected— too much research u_u)

The happenings of HCS7 and 3L overlap, and I wanted to visually show that mirror transition between the two series. The 3L page for that reason was harder to manage without being too different or too underwhelming to its HC37 counterpart. This page is dedicated to his season finale POV of 3rd Life ft Day 1 Crew (and Tango)

[sweetbans29]

It’s Not You, It’s Them - CC

Pairing: Caitlin Clark x Reader

Summary: You hide your parents from Caitlin (based on THIS request)

Warnings: slight (maybe a little more than slight) angst, mentions of verbal abuse, SUPPORTIVE CC, a happy ending (because we all need it)

Word Count: 3.2k

Sweetbans Masterlist

AN:

Caitlin is the light of your life. She has been since the first day that you met her. The friendship that was built between the two of you is one that has kept you going even when everything else in the world seemed to be working against you.

The two of you met freshman year during summer training - your high school had conditioning days to help get everyone into shape before their respective seasons or pre-seasons.

You had been talking to the soccer coach and they encouraged you to go to training, talking about how varsity was very promising for your freshman year. You were one of three freshmen that they were looking at joining the varsity team.

Caitlin was one of the other girls they were looking at. The two of you were some of the first people to show up on the first day, immediately hitting it off and talking about how competitive you both are. The two of you spent the latter part of the summer suffering through training together. You thought Caitlin was insane for playing both basketball and soccer at the same time but seeing how much she enjoyed playing the game, it made sense.

She made the transition into high school bearable. Your freshman year the two of you spent most of your time at school - either in the classroom or on the field. You learned that having her as a teammate was the best possible outcome that you could have ever had.

It was the summer going into sophomore year when the two of you spent pretty much every day at her house. The two of you would keep up with your training so once pre-season workouts started you wouldn't die like the summer before.

That summer was one of the best summers you have ever had - most of it was because you spent it at hers and didn't have to be home. It was also the best because, after a night of deep life conversations, you admitted your feelings for the girl. To your delight, she reciprocated them and the two of you started dating that summer.

During the school year, you would always go watch her play basketball when you weren't both on the field for soccer. And any time the two of you hung out, it would either be doing something out and about or at Caitlin's.

It wasn't until the end of sophomore year that Caitlin questioned why she hadn't met your parents yet.

Your soccer team made it to State and it was the talk of the town. It was the first time the girl's soccer team had made it and for the championship game, the whole school was going to support.

Up to this point, Caitlin hasn't said much but knowing how excited and proud you were for this game she decided to test the waters.

"Hey babe, I have a question for you," She says as the two of you are walking out of practice.

"What's up?" You ask as you are trying to make sure your bag is closed as you juggle carrying everything you need to bring home before the game.

"Why is it whenever we hang out, it is always at my house? You have gotten to know my parents and you know they absolutely love you but I haven't met yours yet?" She asks. In her mind, the reason you haven't introduced her to them is because you were ashamed of her in some way.

You see how her shoulders slump a little and how disappointment lingers on her face. It makes you stop dead in your tracks and she stops but doesn't look at you.

You turn to face her but her eyes don't meet yours. You try to get her to look at you but she keeps avoiding your gaze.

"Hey, hey. Look at me Cait." You say as your bag comes to the ground and your hand comes up to her arm, forcing her to stay facing you. She finally gives in and makes eye contact with you.

"My parents would love you." You say. "They are just super busy all the time. I barely see them." You don't know if now is the time to dive into the whole story as to why you spend so much time at her house and not at home. Ever since you have gotten to high school - you did everything in your power to stay away from home which was easy to do with all the events and extracurriculars. You never wanted to get in their way since they made it very known any time you did.

"I just thought it was because of me or that we are dating or something like that," she says, avoiding your gaze again. "I know some parents are as supportive of the relationship we have."

"Oh babe, that's not it, I promise. When the opportunity presents itself I will introduce you. It is just hard when they are so busy." You say reassuring your girl.

Caitlin trusts you. She knows how much you love her already and has no doubts that you want her. It is just hard at times when Cait sees how much her family loves you and wants that to be reciprocated with your parents. She knows you spend most of your time at hers, whether it be after practice or spending the night but it would be nice to be able to see your home.

Cait also knows how you look for them in the crowd during games but never says anything. It is the polar opposite of her family who is at every one of her games - even pre-season. You never bring it up, nor does Cait, but she notices.

The championship game was no different. In the first half, she noticed how your eyes would scan the crowd in hopes of seeing them there. It isn't until after your team has won that hope fades from your eyes as you are congratulated by everyone except the two people who should be there. Caitlin almost misses the tears that threaten to fall from your eyes as her parents come up with flowers and a poster for you. She doesn't say anything but takes note.

You told yourselves that if your parents couldn't get themselves to come to one of the biggest games of your career thus far, then you would truly stay out of their way and just bear what you needed before heading to college.

The next time Caitlin brings it up is during junior year when she offers to pick you up for a date and you turn her down, saying you will meet her at hers.

Caitlin pushes it and insists on picking you up, suggesting that the two of you spend the night at your house this time since her parents will be throwing a dinner party with their friends.

You tell her that they can't stay yours because your parents have a project that they are working on and have taken over the house.

Cait doesn't cave and continues to bug you about it which is the cause of your first fight.

The two of you don't end up going out due to being frustrated with one another. Caitlin doesn't understand why she can't go to your house since the two of you have been together for almost two years at this point and she still hasn't met your parents. You on the other hand don’t know why Caitlin pushes so hard when everything is perfectly fine the way it is currently.

You rarely talk about your parents or home life and for good reason. You didn't lie when you said your parents were always busy but it also wasn't the complete truth.

The relationship with your parents changed drastically when your family moved to Des Moines, IA. Before the move, you were one big happy family. Your parents were super involved in school events and they were always supporting you in sports. But then your dad's job had you moving to a new city and pulling your family away from its community and everything shifted.

Your mom fell into a major depression - taking away from her being a mother. Your dad was always busy with work, making sure to provide for your family. This left you to have to fend for yourself. As you grew up you realized that the less of a burden you were the happier your parents were. They began to enjoy life again but the second you needed something or pulled them from the life that they began building without you - it was like all hell broke loose. They changed from being their happier selves and treated you like you weren't even wanted anymore.

It wasn't hard to see that your parents enjoyed life better without you so you decided to be the least of a burden as you could. Staying out late so they wouldn't have to see you and leaving really early. The less they saw you the less you had to deal with the verbal abuse.

That is why you worked so hard in school and in your sport. You needed an out and didn't want to give them any reason for them to say no. Although knowing your dad, he would pay for you to go whenever you wanted as long as it was far away. But you didn't want to owe him anything. So you poured yourself into your academics and soccer, making yourself one of the top recruits for college.

Caitlin and you made up shortly after the fight, both apologizing for what was said. The two of you decided that your relationship with each other was more important than your relationships with others.

It isn't until senior year that it comes up again but in a very different way than you would have expected.

It is signing day for seniors and you and Caitlin were both signing to Iowa to play your respective sports. Cait dropped soccer going into her junior year as basketball became her main sport. She verbally committed to the University of Iowa that year and you verbally committed to be a Hawkeye for soccer just a few months later. But today is the day the school sets up an assembly where you physically sign your papers.

Your parents are coming to the assembly, knowing the only reason they were there is because it was mandatory for them to be there. If it didn't involve you leaving, they wouldn't give it the time of day.

You are nervous as this would be the first time they are in the same building as Caitlin and her family. You know Caitlin's parents will be amazing, they always are, but for yours - you have no idea how they would react.

They know you have been dating a girl named Caitlin for a while now but never asked you about it. They could honestly care less, which is saying something considering their care for you was almost nonexistent.

You are sitting at the table, listening to your coach's speech on how proud your school is to have you go to the University of Iowa on a full scholarship to play soccer.

The ceremony ends and you see your parents talking with your principal who is showing them what they need to do. Before you know it, you see them walking out - without even a hello to you.

You run them as they walk out of the gym, catching them right on the other side of the door.

"Hey, you weren't even going to come and say hi?" You say as they just stand there looking at you. "I have a few people I want to introduce you to."

Little to your knowledge, Caitlin had run after you when she saw you go after your parents. She stopped when she heard you saying that you wanted to introduce them to people. She stayed on the other side of the gym door listening.

"You know we don't care about meeting anyone - the only reason we are here is because we were required to be in order to get you to leave come the fall." Your father says.

"This is already cutting into work day and the last thing we need is for you to take more of our time." Your mother says.

"It takes two seconds for you to meet them, that's it." You try and ration with them knowing it will only make things worse. But this is the closest you have ever been to making this happen and you know how much Caitlin wanted this.

"Oh trust us, there is no reason they would want to meet us, we have nothing to say about you.” Your mother says. "You have already caused us this headache of having to come out, now asking us to be social with people we care about less than we care about you. You should know us better than that by now to know we just don't care at all."

You swallow the anger and pain that is rising in your chest.

"Oh and about your senior night," your father begins. "Your principal mentioned that we should be there to walk you down the field but that doesn't seem important. Don't expect us to be there."

"Actually, if you could, make sure you are packed and moved out right after graduation. You're 18 and will be out of school therefore you are no longer our problem." Your mother says and it feels like you have just been stabbed in the chest.

Not that it came as a surprise to you but you didn't know where you would go or how begin to begin explaining this to Caitlin.

You just stare at them, not trusting your voice and they walk away.

You take the time you need to compose yourself - thinking through all the possibilities of where you could go after graduation. You feel like you have just been hit by a truck.

Caitlin, on the other side of the door, is now in tears. She is crying for you and hearing the words your own parents said to you. She is crying for all the times she has pushed you, trying to meet them or go and spend time at your house when really you were just protecting her from them. She is crying because she feels guilty for having such loving parents when yours are the polar opposite.

Cait knows you would be extremely embarrassed if you knew she had just heard the way your parents were talking to you so she gathers herself to the best of her ability and makes her way to her mom. Her mom notices how her little girl has broken down and asks what's wrong.

"They are terrible Mom, absolutely terrible," Caitlin begins. "They aren't going to her senior night. I doubt if they will go to her graduation and they are kicking her out the day after we graduate. How can someone's parents be so hateful towards their own child?" Caitlin is now sobbing in her mom's arms.

You finally collect yourself and enter the gym again. As you do you see Caitlin and her mom walk out. You head over to her dad as the plan was to head out to get a meal after the signing.

"Where did Cait go?" You ask as you take a seat next to him.

"Oh I think they just went to the restroom, they should be back right back," he says and you start a conversation with Caitlin's brother.

Caitlin's mom takes her out to calm her down. And they begin to plan how Caitlin and her family can help support you as your family fails to do so.

The next few days, you spend a lot of time at Caitlin's. You don't say why and Caitlin doesn't dare ask, already knowing. You don't tell her about your parents not going to your senior night, not wanting to cause any drama but as it rapidly approaches you dread it.

It wouldn't the first time a players parents were there, but you know for sure you would be the only one this season who walks out alone. Caitlin will be in the crowd and that is all that you need.

Your team gets ready and makes their way out to the field, excited to greet their parents. You are talking with some teammates as they begin to line you girls up.

The way they decided to do this senior night was by calling players by position and then finishing with captains. You would be going third to last - being the first captain called. It eases you a little knowing you will not be the last person on the field with no one walking to meet you in the center of the field.

The ceremony begins and they start calling girls names. You cheer on all of your teammates, holding your breath as you are the next one up.

Your eyes are closed as your head is down. An exhale escapes you as you hear your name called. What you heard next, gave you whiplash with how fast your head flew up.

"Our first team captain going to play for the University of Iowa on a full ride is met by parents Brent and Anne!"

Your eyes fill with tears, falling freely as you see them walk their way to meet you in the center of the field. As you walk you realize they called Caitlin's parents your own. In the seconds it takes you to walk to them, you reflect on how they have loved you and cared for you as their own. Even more so when Caitlin and you told them that you were dating. They had chosen to be your family not only in this moment, but over the last four years.

They meet you in the middle of the court, both are holding flowers for you. Caitlin's mom envelopes you into a hug and you melt into her, savoring the love of a mother's hug.

"We may not have raised you, but you are a part of this family. Today, tomorrow and always. We love you, baby," Anne says as she releases you and uses her sleeves to dry your tears.

You step over and hug Brent.

"We are so proud of you," he says with a smile. "We can't wait to watch you lead the Hawkeyes to the NCAA college cup."

You all walk down and they shake the hands of your coaches. Each one of your coaches has some sort of idea of what your parents are like thank Brent and Anne for showing up for you.

You later learn that one of your closer coaches would have walked out to greet you if the Clark's hadn't asked to do so. You don’t know how but you are incredibly thankful someone was watching out for you - a literally angel.

That night you lead your team to victory, scoring 3 goals, one of them in the last few seconds going into the half putting your team in the lead. The win was a sweet one to top off the night, not that you needed anything else to make this night better.

At the end of the game - Caitlin finds you on the field and you immediately pull her into a hug.

She holds you.

"Doesn't matter what the case, doesn't matter where you are. I got you babe. I've always got you." Caitlin says not letting you go, she refuses to let you go first and will hold you as long as you need.

AN: I hope this did your prompt justice, I thought it was cute. Let me know what you think! And as always, thank you for your love and support 🤍

[plussizefantasia]

Don't Cry Over Spilled Lemonade

Anthony Bridgerton x f!reader

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: None that I can think of, this is kinda angsty tho

A/N: Surprise post IG I wrote this in my notes app because I couldn't sleep so if there are spelling or grammar issues I'm sorry. let me know if you want a part two because I wouldn't mind continuing this.

Anthony adored how close you were to his siblings. You had become a close family friend ever since you defended Daphne against some creep at her first-ever ball out in society, it was your second season and you had taken it upon yourself to keep an eye on the diamond, looking out for her quietly in the background.

You weren’t going to intervene at all, just offer her some advice woman to woman if the need arose but when you saw Baron Taylor grab the redhead by the wrist you couldn’t hold back.

Anthony himself was only seconds away from coming to his sister's aid when you ‘accidently’ tripped into the man spilling your glass of lemonade down the front of his vest. 

“Perhaps my Lord if we kept our hands to ourselves certain… interventions might’ve not had to happen. Don’t you think?” When Anthony had seen your raised eyebrow and defensive posture all aimed at the scumbag who dared lay a hand on his baby sister he couldn’t help but fall a little bit in love right then and there. Not that he’d ever admit it to himself or anyone else for that matter.

A day later Daphne had invited you to tea at their family house in order to thank you for the rescue and potentially make a new friend and ally within the marriage mart.

Ever since that day, you’d been a regular in his home, but you were never there for him as much as he’d have liked you to be. No, you were always there for one of his siblings. You were there to talk with Daphne, first about her counting of the duke and then slowly transitioning into how she felt about being a married woman and then a mother. He could also find you sketching in silence next to Benedict, the two of you after attending to draw the same scene and then critiquing each other's work when you were done. You would trade books and ideas with Eloise, listen to Fran play the piano while working on your embroidery, and the scenes which would warm his heart the most, you’d come around to chase after Greg and Hyancith playing with them in the gardens and keeping a watchful eye to make sure they stayed safe. 

Anthony adored how close you were to his siblings, and he loathed how much of a distance there seemed to be between the two of you. 

You were cold to the Viscount, you had been since the evening you came to Daphne’s rescue, he had attempted to give you his thanks and you had simply excused yourself, “My apologies my Lord but I seem to be down a glass of lemonade presently and I find myself to be quite parched, excuse me.” Your tone was cold and Anthony spent the rest of that night and the next two years trying to figure out what he possibly couldn’t done to make you so icy towards him.

“I do not understand it Ben, she is so kind and lovely to the rest of you but is like a stone wall when it comes to me, what could I be missing?”

“Perhaps she just doesn’t like you brother have you ever thought of that?” Benedict was too preoccupied with this still life to deal with his older brothers pining at the moment. 

“That is not possible, I’ve done nothing but be the perfect gentleman to her.” 

“Anthony I have no idea why dear Y/N does not like you but what exactly will you whining in my studio do about that?” 

“I resent that. I am not whining I am simply asking my dearest brother for his advice on a matter I care very much about. I thought that was what brothers were for.”

“You want my advice, Anthony? Think. Think long and hard about what you want and how you’ll get it because Y/N has no patience for wishy-washy men.”

“That is horrible advice, Ben.”

“When then perhaps you can find better advice from your other brothers. Which will it be Anthony, the one who has been blindly in love with his best friend for years, or the ten-year-old?” 

“I hate it when you’re right.”

“I know. Now leave, that storm cloud above your head is casting shadows on my fruit.” Ben pointed his paintbrush at the bowl of fruit balanced atop a stool. Anthony huffed and knowing that it would bother his brother, he grabbed the apple off the top of the pile and took a bite of it as he strode out of the room

Ben had told him to think, but Anthony didn’t know what to think about. He knew that he craved your attention. He knew that he enjoyed seeing you around his house, interacting with the people whom he loves. He enjoyed hearing your witty comebacks and the way that even if you were not doing anything in particular you still fill the space you’re in.

He wanted her in his life, and if he was being completely honest with himself he wanted more than that. 

It’s during his musing that he runs into her in the hallway, you have a book clutched within your hand, and your head is held high. You don’t stop your stride even though he knows that you saw him. He bites his lip and tampers down a smirk. Add another thing to that list of things he likes about you, you have fire, he just wished that it wasn’t always aimed at him.

“Lady, L/N which one of my dear siblings are you spending your day with today?” He attempts to match his pace with yours catching up to you so that the two of you walk shoulder and shoulder.

“Actually, Lord Bridgerton, I was having tea with your mother this afternoon she invited me over so we could discuss what to do about Frannie’s debut next season.”

This was not something that normal family friends do, you know that and he knows that. His sibling’s entrances into society are a matter which the viscountess must handle, something his mother has had to continue to do because of his lack of a wife. 

“That was very kind of you to help her with.”

“Well, she doesn’t have anyone else to help her.” Your words cut him down, not for the first time. 

“Lady L/N may I be frank?”

“It is your home, you may do as you please.” You turn to face him, your face a mask of indifference. 

“What have I done to cross you, for the longest time I have known you you have been cold to me and I do not understand why?” 

“I had figured that you did not remember, either that or you had purposely forgone trying to speak with me about it.”

“About what?” 

“Our first meeting My Lord.” 

“I remember our first meeting very clearly, it is one of my fondest memories seeing you stand up for Daphne and ruin Lord Taylor’s vest.” He tilts his head to the side and smiles at the memory.

“That was not the first time we met My Lord, the first time we met you snubbed me in front of the entire ton and sparked rumors that did not leave me until two seasons later.” She was harsh in her words and the tightness in her shoulder’s belayed her desire to flee.

Anthony was speechless, surely he had not? He would’ve remembered her, would’ve remembered turning down one of the most beautiful women he had ever met, intentionally or otherwise. 

“I- I beg your deepest forgiveness Y/N I do not remember and if I had I would’ve tried to make it up to you tenfold by now.”

Your eyes began to gloss over and you looked at the wall beside his head, “It was my first season out, Lady Danbury’s ball, and I had seen you standing there surrounded by other gentleman. I had thought you a very fine figure and despite the rumor mill telling me you were nothing but a rake I had tried to begin a conversation. All you did was turn to me and laugh. I wasn’t asked to dance for the entire rest of that season and it was only until my Mother forced the son of one of her garden party friends to dance with me was that streak broken. You were the first and only man I had ever attempted to pursue and you laughed in my face. Were it not for my deep need to help those I see in need I would never have talked to you or any member of the Bridgerton family for the rest of my life.”

“You must know that I regret that, I regret everything I have ever done to hurt you and I will spend the rest of my days working for your forgiveness.” If Anthony was a weaker man he would’ve fallen to his knees and begged for your forgiveness until his last breath, right there in the hallways of his family’s home.

“I appreciate your words Anthony, but that’s all they are… words. I am unmarried, one year from becoming a spinster in the eyes of the entire ton, and you, you are the only one I can blame.” You don’t wait for his reply, just stalking off and wiping the tears from your eyes.

Anthony resolved himself in that moment. He would do whatever it took to make it up to you, to bring a smile to your face, and to cast away the hurt he had caused.

Part 2

[hwaslayer]

after hours (jwy) | one shot.

—summary: an invitation to wooyoung’s event leads to the unexpected— a night of revelation that deeply blurs the lines between harmless fun and the thrill of exploring something more.

—pairing: dj!wooyoung x f!reader

—genre: (18+ - minors dni) fwb to lovers | smut, fluff

—word count: 5k

—content/warnings: cussing/mature language, dj wooyo playing his first club event!, songs in wooyoung’s setlist can get pretty explicit so pls proceed with caution, throwing some ass back at the club lol, alcohol consumption and intoxication, hella chemistry between these two, friends with benefits but with lots of feelings lol, oc x woo are in denial tho hehe, lots of teasing and flirting, kisses, making out, praising, marking, pet names (baby, babygirl, love), unprotected sex, oral (f. & m. receiving), hand job, woo gets slightly rough, nipple play, missionary, doggy, sorry if i missed anything!!

—a/n: this piece came super randomly, but i was inspired by needs x tinashe / after hours x kehlani and needed to whip this baby out ASAP. enjoy!!

💿 wooyoung's setlist 💿

“Thank you.” You sweetly smile at the security guard at the door, brushing your way past the hefty line that ran down the block with your bestfriend, Yeosang. The club is already incredibly packed from wall to wall, the music’s vibrations felt at the base of your feet. For a minute, you didn’t actually think you’d make it inside in time. The security guard at the door wasn’t taking your sweet smiles, frowning as you bat your eyelashes in hopes of letting you skip the line simply because you knew the DJ. He definitely didn’t believe you, nor was he trying to give you the time of day. You didn’t let up though, and as if on cue, he received confirmation from the team inside that you and Yeosang were a part of the DJ’s crew.

Thank god.

Because that line was not it.

“It’s so fucking loud in here!” Yeosang yells as he turns back to look at you amidst the crowd chaos.

“We’re almost there!” You squeeze his hand as he platonically holds onto yours, leading you to the front of the crowd and up to the DJ booth.

“Never invite me out again if you just plan on seeing your boyfriend or whatever.” 

“Not my boyfriend.”

“Yeah, whatever. Close enough.” You laugh when you finally approach the steps up to the stage, the security guard letting you slip through with Yeosang right at your hip. Heading up to the stage, you greet your friends Mingi, San and Yunho as they dance around with a few other familiar faces and sip on their drinks. Wooyoung is the main DJ for tonight’s event, and he’s having the time of his life— doing what he loves to do, with the people he loves most around him. The crowd is feeding into his energy as he smoothly transitions into the next song, dancing and singing along before finally breaking contact from his mixer and glancing over at you.

“Woo!”

“Whattup! You made it.” He smiles, bringing you flush against him for a hug and a chaste kiss to the temple. You blush at his attempt to subtly squeeze at your side, biting on his bottom lip before shifting his headphones enough to partially cover his ear. The thing about Wooyoung is that you adore him. You adore him because he’s been one of your good friends for some time now. You adore him because he brings you happiness, because he’s a good time. You adore him because of these unspoken feelings, that unlabeled ‘friends with benefits but everyone knows you two are feeling each other so why hide’ kinda thing. You haven’t done much besides innocently flirt around, make out a few times, dance at events together, engage in a few heated conversations over the phone, full send with the thirst traps. The chemistry is well and alive; you suppose by now you and Wooyoung would’ve figured things out since it was too obvious to your friends already, but the both of you seem to brush it off, still shying away from it— afraid of ruining the dynamic that’s already there with said label. Something that started off so fun, so innocent, ended up digging a little space in your heart, making you feel things you shouldn’t for your ‘lil past-time.

But, Wooyoung would move mountains for you, just so you know. He’s dying to make this different. Different from the others, different from anything he’s ever dealt with. Because you are different, and he’ll show you every chance he gets.

“Aw, look at you supporting Woo at his event.” Yunho pinches your cheek, his own painted with a red tint from the alcohol he’s been downing.

“Of course. He was so excited about it, ever since he started planning it out and everything.”

“You guys make things so complicated for no reason.” Yunho laughs. “Despite the friends with benefits bullshit, you know we can tell you two actually have feelings for each other, right?”

“Wow, I didn’t know I came to the club to be lectured by Jeong Yunho.” You laugh, gently pinching at his arm. “We don’t like each other. That’s all we are.” He rolls his eyes.

“Continue to convince yourself if that’s easiest, Y/N. Just want you two to be happy.” You lick your lips, jolting at the sudden roar that comes from the crowd when Woo transitions into another hype, upbeat song.

“Aye, can we get some shots, please? Gotta take one with Yeo and the pretty ‘lil thing right there.” He signals by making a glass-shape with his hand, tilting it back a few times until the bartender off to the side throws him a thumbs up. He looks at you with a smirk, quickly winking before he’s grabbing the mic and hyping the crowd up some more.

The shots turn into two, three, five maybe, before the world is spinning a little more than usual; off-balance and vision slightly blurry. You’re still coherent, and you’re still able to make sense of your surroundings. But the one thing you do find yourself struggling with is how good Wooyoung looks at the table. You try to brush it off, dancing around with your friends and loudly singing along to the songs that blast through the speakers.

“Having fun?” Wooyoung sets the headphones off to the side and steps back from the table to enjoy some company for a bit.

“Yeah, you’re not so bad after all.” You playfully punch him on the bicep and he laughs.

“You look so good tonight.” He says in your ear, pulling you flush against his body again— hand resting on the small of your back. “Gonna give me a bit of your time?”

“I don’t know, should I?” 

“Tease. All those pictures and you can’t even spare me a minute.” He taps your nose and heads back to the table. It’s a few more minutes of Wooyoung hyping the crowd, San and Mingi both welcoming lapdances from a few cuties they met throughout the night while exploring out on the floor. Before you know it, you’re pulled mid-conversation with Yeo and Yunho— familiar hands resting on your waist. You feel Wooyoung push against you, guiding your hips against him for a dance. You love dancing with Woo because it’s fun, and there’s no pressure or expectation to be a certain way with him.

You live for that shit.

And tonight, you need him a little more than usual. In more ways than usual. Tippy-toeing into dangerous territory that makes you wanna act on your feelings.

You’re having to hold onto the edge of the table as Wooyoung bends you over ever so slightly, letting you work your ass against him to the music. He bites onto his bottom lip as he focuses on you, only you, matching your rhythm to the beat. You change your position, no longer leaning onto the edge of the table; back only inches away from Wooyoung. You lean to the side in order to get a better view of him from over your shoulder as you work your ass in slow, circular motions against him. The both of you let out a few laughs in between, focused on each other as if no one else was around. The grip on your hip tightens when Wooyoung’s free hand glides down your back in an effort to bend you over again. Your hands fall to your knees, picking up your pace to match the new song that comes on. 

Wooyoung matches your energy so well it’s no wonder you never want to dance with anyone else the same way you do with him.

The dancing with Wooyoung continues for a bit more before he’s tapping out, tapping your hips once the song finishes. You stand to put some distance between you two, but he keeps you close; arm wrapped around your waist when you turn to look at him.

“I swear to God, Y/N.” He leans into your ear. “You make everything so difficult for me.”

“Doubt that.” He chuckles.

“Oh, you have no idea.” 

“The DJ is being fake and forgetting his set!” San teases. You blush and push him away, allowing him to get back to his craft in the meantime.

The next two and a half hours go by with a breeze, and you find your energy diminishing as the night continues to go on. You find yourself hugging closer to the wall behind the stage, leaning your head against Yeo’s shoulder— watching as San and Mingi continue to dance around and find a few pretties to get to know. Wooyoung turns over his shoulder a few times, tugging on your hand, flirting with you in a way he knows will get you to fold so quick; buckle at the knees, shyly giggle against him from all the cute ‘lil compliments that slip from his lips.

“Tryna go soon?” Yeosang asks near your ear. “Kinda over it.” He laughs.

“Yeah, I am, too! Let me just say goodbye to everyone.” You head to Yunho first, giving him a bear hug before letting San and Mingi playfully hug you and spin you around. “Hey.” You tug on Wooyoung’s hand, causing him to shift the headphones up so he could hear you.

“You’re leaving?” He frowns a bit.

“Yeah! Time for us to head out.” You smile, but he pouts.

“Where are you going?” He looks down at you, brushing the hair away from your face. “Don’t wanna stick around to grab a bite to eat with everyone after?”

“No, I’m tired. Yeo and I are probably just gonna grab something quick on the road before he drops me off.” He pouts even more.

“Gonna make me miss you.”

“Don’t say stuff like that, Woo.” He continues to pout anyway, hand coming to squeeze your side again in an endearing way.

“Can I text you later, then?”

“If I’m up.”

“I need you to be up. Please?”

“For what, exactly?” You chuckle.

“Your company.” He puckers his lips. “Tryna give me a kiss before you head out?”

“Get out.” You laugh.

“Just fuck and get together already!” Mingi says loudly with a hearty laugh. Woo turns to flip him off before shifting his attention back to you.

“Okay, please?” He repeats. “Promise me you’ll be up?”

“Get back to the crowd. I’ll be up.” You reassure him, gently pushing him towards the table. He nibbles at this bottom lip before heading back to his set. You nod over to Yeosang and start making your way out of the club, holding onto his hand as he leads the way again. Once you get outside, the cold air feels good against your sticky, warm skin. You let out a deep breath, keeping your body close to your bestfriend to keep some kind of warmth. 

“I don’t know why you just don’t tell him.” Yeosang says as he continues to walk alongside you on the way to the car parked on the opposite end of the block.

“I have nothing to tell him.”

“Y/N, please.” Yeosang chuckles. “We know.” You roll your eyes and sigh.

“Why is everyone on my case about him tonight?”

“I don’t know, maybe because you two should just quit the act and get together already?” He snorts. “You should at least try when you guys get some alone time later.”

“Who said we will?”

“I know you, you’ll stay up for him.” Yeosang gives you a look before gently nudging you. “Until then, what do you wanna stop by for?”

“I don’t know, I’m not too hungry. Truthfully, I’d be satisfied with some good ol’ fries and an ice cream cone.” You laugh and Yeo nods while swinging his keys around his finger.

“Got it.” He unlocks the door. “Get in princess, we need to get your fries and ice cream before Woo comes over.” You scold him as you settle into the passenger’s seat, recalling some events from the night as he drives off to the nearest fast food joint for the best fries nearby. 

When Yeosang finally drops you off at home, you’ve completely devoured your fries and ice cream cone, and you find yourself slowly dragging yourself up to your studio. The club had just closed, so you weren’t expecting to hear from Wooyoung for awhile. You let out a satisfied sigh when you slip out of your shoes, kicking them off to the side before tossing your bag and keys onto the table. You make a beeline for the shower, more than ready to wash off the club and get into something comfortable. It’s a quick one, though; a good 10 minutes under the hot water with that coconut body scrub you love so much before stepping out and lathering up with some body cream. You toss on an oversized shirt and crash onto your bed, feeling incredibly happy to be in your own safe space.

You wonder what Wooyoung is doing.

It’s crazy because at this point, it feels like the universe is listening closely to your thoughts— especially when a ding comes through on your phone and puts a big smile on your face.

wooyo: cutiepie

wooyo: are you up 🥺 say yes

you: lol yeah i am.

wooyo: fuck yeah! you kept your promise!

you: excuse, since when did i ever break a promise with you?

wooyo: never, that’s why you’re perfect for me

you: shut up lol

wooyo: lol 😙 can i slide through and hang out for a bit?

you: mhm! what happened to eating out with the boys?

wooyo: bruh san got too fucked up so we all ended up going our separate ways

you: wooooow hahah hope he’s good though?

wooyo: he’ll be fine. did u and yeo actually get some stuff to eat?

you: yeah we did. you should grab something for yourself before heading over

wooyo: nah it’s all good. i don’t care too much for it, just need your company. be there in 15?

you: sounds good! front door’s unlocked

wooyo: hot, she can’t wait either

you: stop while you’re ahead jung wooyoung

wooyo: oop hehe woops 🤭

It wasn’t anything new to have Wooyoung come over, but he usually comes to hang out for an hour or so before he’s leaving to head back to his own place. The good thing about Wooyoung is that even though there’s this deep chemistry, this longing for each other, he never forces anything. Never pressures you.

So, he comes through. He gives you a few kisses and gives you a few laughs from his jokes. He cuddles you for a bit before he’s saying his goodbyes and struggling to get himself out of the door.

It’ll probably be the same tonight, maybe.

It feels different because you loved seeing him in his element, and you loved having fun with him. It also feels different because your friends were all up in your case about him— now, you can’t really get the idea out of your head. That maybe, you do really, really want something with Wooyoung and you’re afraid to admit it. Afraid he might not feel the same even though he’s never done anything to hurt you or show you otherwise.

Maybe, you’ll finally take that leap tonight and just go for it.

Say fuck it.

In the end, at least you could say you tried, right?

Amidst all your overthinking, you surprisingly do fall asleep in those 15-20 minutes. You’re awoken by your front door closing, along with Wooyoung’s loud ass keys dangling from his keychain and hitting his thigh with every step he takes. 

“Did you fall asleep?” He giggles when tosses his belongings onto your desk and plops onto your bed.

“I did fall asleep for a bit.” You yawn and fix your position a bit, Wooyoung laying next to you on his tummy.

“I didn’t even take that long, did I?”

“No, but I can’t be tired?! Damn.” He snorts.

“Sorry, sorry.” He kisses the tip of your nose, his arm draped over you. Hand caressing your side under your shirt. His hand is warm, but it tickles against your skin and raises a few goosebumps at how smooth his touch is. He looks at you for a split second before he leans in to peck you on the lips, smiling into the kiss just as he pulls back. “So, did you have fun?”

“I did. You played a good set tonight, Woo.”

“I did, huh?” You laugh.

“Did you have fun?”

“It was so fucking fun.” He laughs. “I just wished you stayed ‘till the end. Everyone seemed boo’d up and I was just the lonely ass DJ playing for the crowd.”

“Please. I’m sure you still had fun until then.”

“I did, but it wasn’t the same without you.” You give him a tiny, toothless smile, hand brushing through his soft black hair. 

“When’s your next one?”

“Why, huh?” He smirks. “An excuse to dance up on me again?”

“Excuse you, you pulled me for a dance!” You playfully swat him on the shoulder.

“Yeah, and? I’ll do it again at the next one.” He pulls out his phone. “I’m doing something next weekend with a few other DJs. Wanna come?”

“Sure. I don’t think Yeo would go, though. I practically dragged his ass out for this one.”

“Okay.” Wooyoung types something on his phone before tossing it aside, full attention on you again. “Promise me you’ll actually stay until the end. Gimme a chance to show you off, too.”

“Wooyoung.” You giggle. He tickles your sides, causing you to squeal and kick your feet before he lets you breathe. You find Wooyoung staring at you again, and it causes your heart to do major flips.

“You’re so pretty, Y/N. You looked so damn good tonight.”

“You did too, I guess.” You tease and he bites onto his bottom lip, leaning forward for another kiss.

“Tease. Hate it.” He presses his lips against yours, holding it for as long as he can before he pulls back. “Why don’t you wanna kiss me in front of our friends, hm?” He presses another kiss to your lips, edging closer to your body so he could comfortably throw his arm around you.

“Because we aren’t together.” You giggle.

“Shouldn’t we change that?”

“Don’t say shit like that, Wooyoung. I told you.”

“I mean it. Why can’t we be? I don’t necessarily have anything to hide.” Wooyoung kisses at the corner of your lips. “Unless you do?”

“I don’t.”

“So, tell me. Why can’t we be?” He asks again, close to a whisper, lips grazing the surface of yours. You don’t say anything, no. Instead, you feel like your actions could do the talking for tonight. Your actions could tell Wooyoung what you’ve been feeling all this time, your actions could tell Wooyoung how much you’ve been longing for him— longing for something more, longing for something deeper than the surface.

You make the first move and push into his lips, instantly deepening the kiss. Your hands tug at the ends of his hair as the two of you fit in each other’s molds so perfectly; teeth clashing against each other in a fit of desperate need, tongues fighting for dominance. Hoping the answer would be evident in the way you move so well with him.  “Fuck, baby.” Wooyoung breathily responds as you bite onto his bottom lip. He moves down to your neck and licks across the surface, gently nipping and sucking faint marks down the column. You feel Wooyoung’s hand squeeze at your hip before he pauses at the material of your panties, threatening to slip them down and toss them off. Everything suddenly feels so heated, too intense, too quick— you’re afraid there isn’t a way to come back from this anymore. “Y/N, if you tell me to stop right now, I’ll stop.” He feels your hesitancy, almost hears you thinking outloud. “Whatever you wanna do.”

“N-no. Keep going.”

“You sure? Cause if I keep going, I won’t be able to stop, you know that, right?” He gently nips at your chin while teasing the edge of your panties. “Been wanting this for so long, I won’t be able to help myself.”

“I want this too.”

“Yeah?” He smirks while finally pulling your panties down and tossing them onto the floor. “Gonna let me finally take care of you?” He kisses you once more before shifting his position to be in between your thighs, hands gripping at ‘em while he presses light kisses in your inner thighs. He smirks to himself and bites onto his bottom lip when he sees you bare underneath the shirt, causing the heat to rise to your cheeks.

“Woo.” You shyly throw an arm over your face.

“Don’t do that.” He chuckles and gently tugs on your elbow. “You’re so fucking beautiful, shit feels too fucking good to be true right now.” In a blink of an eye, Wooyoung presses a light kiss against your pussy— sending tingles straight down your spine. He indulges in how reactive you are, gently easing himself back down onto your heat to give you what you deserve. You let out a breathy moan when Wooyoung latches back on and continues his work on you; tongue working up and down, licking in between your folds. The pleasure makes your back arch in response, another moan slipping from your lips and sounding like music to Wooyoung’s ears. 

“Oh my god.” You let out with a silent moan. You whimper when Wooyoung slips in two digits, pumping into you at a quick pace while his mouth continues to lap at your clit, sucking in between to taste every single drop of you. When he pulls out, you take the opportunity to grind against his mouth; aching to feel the friction you so desperately need, want, from him. “Oh fuck, Woo.” Your moan is a little louder this time, causing him to groan against you as a way to egg you on towards the finish line. “Just like that, please. I’m gonna—” You whine, repeatedly cursing to yourself until you feel that coil within you suddenly snap and throw you off guard. Your moans bounce off the walls and Wooyoung is sure the couple upstairs can hear it loud and clear.

Oh well.

“Did so well for me, pretty girl.” He kisses your inner thigh, leading a trail up to your knee. He sits back onto his knees and removes his shirt, the tent in his sweats making you drool the more you fixate on it.

“Woo.” You look at him with a tiny pout. “Can I?” You sit up in order to reach him and palm hin gently.

“Mm, baby.” He lets out a small moan. “You don’t have to, I just—”

“Please?” You beg with those eyes and Wooyoung can’t help buckle at the knees. You’re already helping him out his sweats, and he feels the urge, the desire, to find out how your pretty lips feel wrapped around his dick. 

The image alone drives him to insanity, and he can’t wait to see you sucking him off like the good girl you are. 

He swallows the lump in his throat when he watches you pump him slowly, taking your lips to his tip. He hisses when you lick away at the pre-cum pooling at the top of the head before lowering your mouth down his length. 

And, fuck.

Wooyoung feels like he’ll lose himself right at this moment. He tilts his head back in pleasure, letting out a small, guttural moan when you work your mouth [and hands] on him. He gently tugs at your hair, pushing you a little further down his length just to test the waters. But, you take him anyway, and Wooyoung wants to fucking combust. You look so, so pretty with your lips around him, and it doesn’t help his cause when he feels his dick hit the back of your throat; pushing him to the highest of highs, purest ecstasy. 

“Fuck—fuck.” He groans. “Baby, wait. You’ll make me cum.” He lets out a breath, eyes focusing on you. He pulls you back just a bit, caressing your cheek when he sees a faint tear streak coating the surface. “I need to be in you. Now.” You bite onto your bottom lip and settle back onto your back as Wooyoung slots himself back in between your legs. He takes your shirt off at the same time, tongue licking a stripe up your cleavage before leaving wet kisses along the swell of your breasts. He quickly pops a nipple into his mouth, tongue swirling around the puffy bud before repeating the motions with the other. 

“Shit.” You hiss. “Wooyoung, please.”

“Please, what?” He teases. He has that shit-eating smirk on his face as he sits back and watches you squirm, pumping himself slowly while he waits for you to respond. “Hm, sweet girl?”

“Need you.”

“Where? Care to tell me again?”

“I swear to God if you aren’t fucking me in the next 2 minutes—” He laughs as he lowers himself back down, just enough to hover over your body and plant a feathery kiss on your lips.

“Say please.” He smiles. “Besides, do you have a condom? I swear I haven’t been messy or anything, you know this. But I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable.”

“I’m on the pill, so please.”

“You sure?” You nod, hands resting on his shoulders. He does a subtle nod before he lines himself up at your entrance and eases in— the both of you letting out gasps while adjusting to the feeling. It already feels too good with the way he fills you up and makes you feel full. For Wooyoung, it’s the way your walls wrap around him so nicely that makes him truly believe you were made just for him.

Only him.

Once he bottoms out, he sits in the position for a second before he slowly rocks against you. Wooyoung begins to pick up the pace when he feels a little more comfortable, pressing kisses on every inch of your skin that he possibly can while whispering sweet nothings against the surface. He praises you so, so well, it has you whimpering a mess underneath him— only wanting more of Wooyoung, only wanting to feel every bit of his soul intertwined with yours at this very moment.

Only him.

“God, you feel so good Y/N.” He lets out a breathy moan into your mouth. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted you. Everything about you is so perfect.” He moans. “So pretty and so perfect.” He picks up his pace, hips working a little sloppier, a little harder. “Just for me.” He sits back and rests his hand on your hips, pounding into you in such a majestic way, it almost has you seeing stars right then and there. You continue to praise him, letting him know how good he’s making you feel, and how you need him just like this. 

Only him.

“Switch for me.” He removes himself quickly and directs you to your fours. He wastes no time slipping himself back into you, the new position and angle enough to make you two crave more and more of each other. Once he buries himself to the hilt, he keeps a steady pace as his hands explore every curve of your body, pressing kisses against the base of your neck;

Shoulders.

Back.

Tracing your spine.

“Feels too good.” You mewl, Wooyoung’s name slipping from your lips repeatedly like a song, a mantra. He continues to pound into your from behind— ass cheeks sore and red from the impact, from Wooyoung’s hands. 

“Wanna make you mine.” He moans in your ear as he thrusts a ‘lil harder, a ‘lil rougher than the last. “Can I, babygirl?”

“Y-Yes.” Your response is almost broken by a cry that’s released, an immediate reaction to how hard Wooyoung is fucking into you.

“Say it louder. Can’t hear you. Can I make you mine, baby?” He repeats, thrusting even harder than the last. His hand glides down your back as you fall onto your chest with your cheek deep into the pillow; ass up and pressed against him so beautifully every time he fucks into you. 

“Yes, fuck!” You let out, hand coming down to rub at your sensitive nub to push you over the edge one last time for tonight.

“Oh shit, gonna cum—” Woooyoung pants. “Where do you want me?”

“Inside.”

“So fucking hot—” He groans while sloppily working his hips until the very end. You feel him fill you up, coating your walls so deliciously it’s enough to push you to your own high. Wooyoung hisses and grunts a few times when he feels you squeeze him, feeling a bit sensitive from his own release. 

“God.” You try to regulate your breathing when you come back down from cloud nine, body falling limp against the mattress with Wooyoung plopping next to you.

“Come here, pretty.” He chuckles, swooping you onto his chest with his hand coming up to stroke your hair and massage your scalp. “Let’s get cleaned up.”

“Okay. But, first. Can you stay tonight?” You look up at him and he smiles brightly.

“Why would I leave my baby’s side?” He kisses your forehead. “Let’s go. If you’re good, I’ll let you take me in the shower.”

“You’re unbelievable.”

“The real after hours after party.” Wooyoung wiggles his eyebrows as he watches you climb over and start making your way to the bathroom.

“You’re so sick for that.” You laugh, squealing as he smacks your ass and follows you into the bathroom, getting his way with you once more under the steaming hot water.

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